synopsis: you never thought you could be loved this intensely before Baekhyun, lucky for you, he’s now here to make sure you catch up on everything you ever missed on.
word count: 2.8k+
content and warnings: mostly sfw, non-idol au, baekhyun x fem!reader, established relationship (but still new), light angst, sad reader, hurt comfort, fluff, implied d/s dynamics (non-sexual), reader got issues and nightmares, crying, a lot of pet names, mentions of bad friends, mentions of sex.
author’s note: changed my username, the old one wasn’t cute or baekhyun related. this was supposed to have smut but i suck at that and can’t write smut to save my life. also, can you guys tell by reading this that i’ve got daddy issues? 😓
You never knew that your emotions, sadness and tears could mean so much to someone. That it could matter, worry and concern someone this much.
But that was probably only because you hadn’t met Baekhyun in your life earlier. Because now, you felt like you always had someone to lean on, a chest to cry to, and a guiding hand to pull you out of whatever pit of sadness you seemed to fall into often.
It started small.
Only a couple of months into dating Baekhyun, when you started to come over to his place for sleepovers, he slowly discovered about your extremely restless sleeping habits, your sleepless nights.
The first time it happened, you sat up in the bed, heaving and gasping quietly to yourself to catch your breath—seriously trying not to accidentally awaken him because then you were worried that he’d see just how much of a pathetic loser you were.
But it wasn’t easy, you just couldn’t seem to calm yourself down and the tears weren’t stopping either, you just wanted a good night’s sleep with your boyfriend but your brain had other plans.
You swore your breathing froze when he stirred beside you, then he was suddenly sitting up, eyes squinting in the dark to stare at your shaking form.
“Baby…?” The words left his lips in such a soft and quiet manner as if you were some scared wounded animal that he didn’t want to startle anymore. Without any questioning or demanding explanation from you as to what happened that lead you to hyperventilating at 3 in the morning, he just moved closer to you.
You opened your mouth to tell him that it was okay, that he should just go back to sleep, that you didn’t want him to see you in such a pathetic state but all the words got stuck in your throat and the only sound that left your lips was this small wet whimper which made you shut your eyes tightly in shame.
Baekhyun didn’t need anymore words, not that you had said anything, he just took you in his arms, your head tucked under his chin as he tugged you closer—almost on his lap as you sobbed against his chest, wetting his shirt. He held you so… tightly, so firmly, so lovingly, as if trying to shield you from whatever was going on in your head.
“Breathe, baby, breathe…”
He didn’t even question you, just held you. His lips pressed to the shell of your ear as he whispered sweet nothings to you, calling you every pet name imaginable while rocking you back and forth.
After your tears had dried down a little, he pulled away, softly asking you if you wanted to talk about it, when you shook your head, he didn’t push at all.
Instead, he grabbed you and just skipped over into the kitchen, smiling softly as he just told you easily, “let’s make a chocolate cake, hm? You can add the star sprinkles on top, pretty girl.”
Like he wasn’t in the kitchen at 3 in the morning, on top of when he clearly had a lot of work the next day, you tried protesting against it but he pressed a finger to your lips while you both got to making the cake, he licked off the frosting off your fingers, blowing some flour on you, just messing around with you, making you giggle.
Being with him like this made all your problems fade to nothing, the devastatingly big amounts of love and adoration in his eyes as his gaze zeroed in on you whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice and was busy whisking the eggs—it seriously made you feel so scared, being loved so intensely and intimately.
You often found yourself questioning if you even deserved such love from him, but then Baekhyun would wipe those thoughts away from your head with the reverent way he held your face while he kissed you, the way he touched you like you were made of the most precious porcelain and deserved to be cherished and worshipped.
Sometimes after a particularly hard day, after you’ve had some problems with your friends—Baekhyun would try his best to cheer you up, ordering your favourite milk cake from the bakery down the road, playing you a love song on the piano, watching your favourite reality show even though he had never really liked it.
He’d do everything just to take that look of utter hopelessness away from your eyes.
But the truth is, sometimes nothing really worked and Baekhyun understood that, he understood that your emotions weren’t like a light switch that he could turn on and off with just a couple of his loving actions.
He always waited patiently, waited for you to open up, crack out of your shell, climb up and out of the tall walls you had built around yourself, sometimes not even letting him in. He understood why, maybe you’d been scarred similarly in your past and that was why you were so wary now to let people in easily.
And when you’d let finally him in, Baekhyun’s heart in his chest felt like fireworks.
It was late and you both had gone to bed, he didn’t push you to talk of it. But maybe you just couldn’t take it anymore.
And as Baekhyun laid there on the bed, wide awake beside you because he was worried about you, he heard you sniffling, your back was to him and he couldn’t exactly see your face but god, did Baekhyun’s heart dropped to his stomach.
He didn’t say anything to you, just moved closer and enveloped you loosely from behind—giving you room to pull away from him if you didn’t want him or his warmth right now. He’d understand.
But when you leaned back into his chest, your sniffling turning into small sobs that twisted his heart, Baekhyun almost felt a sort of relief that you were leaning onto him, instead of just shutting him out and wallowing in your problems all by yourself.
“I’m here for you, sweet girl, hm?” He felt the need to word it for you, for you to really understand that he was here for you and will always be.
When you answered by twisting and turning to face him, your face all teary and red, holding back the sobs. Baekhyun winced at the sight of your absolutely wet face.
He couldn’t help but tug you even closer to him, you buried your head in the crook of his neck immediately and he wrapped his arms your whole body firmly, anchoring you to him.
“Oh, baby… it’s okay, I’m here for you,” was all the words he could get out of his mouth while you trembled and sobbed into his chest heavily. God knows what lead you to be like this and he felt helpless and almost a tiny bit frustrated as he thought about how reserving you were with your emotions, so he knew he couldn’t even ask you about it, afraid you’d only pull away and retreat back into yourself.
Imagine the level of surprise and relief flooding through him when you began speaking, rambling to him through your sobs, “I saw them at the café… the same one that I told them about, the one I wanted to go at with them but they’d told me they were busy… but then they were there, without me.”
“Who, sweetheart? Slow down, it’s okay, tell me,” he spoke in a hushed tone, hand rubbing up and down at your back to soothe you even further.
“My friends.”
“You saw your friends at a cafe? The one you wanted to check out with them, but they went there without you?” He countered softly, trying to get the picture of what you were going through and trying to tell him.
You sobbed and nodded, but then tried to catch your breath to speak a little more clearly to him, you started again, voice shaky, “yes, then they proceeded to be… passive aggressive when I walked up to them and asked them about it? They were weird towards me, said how they thought I weren’t free that’s why they went without me. I… I don’t think—Baekhyun, they don’t like me anymore.”
You fell into a fit of small whimpers and sobs again while you blamed yourself, words muffled into his chest, “maybe I did something wrong,” and a mix of “i always go and ruin all of my friendships.”
“No, baby. What? Are you kidding, it’s not your fault at all, you are the best and the nicest friend they could ever have. That’s clearly wrong from their side,” he was quick to reassure you and made you didn’t fall into the pit of self-blame.
Baekhyun didn’t like that one bit.
How dare your friends make you feel this way and how could you even blame yourself for this, you were the sweetest and nicest girl he knew. You were not a bad friend—far from it actually, but your friends. Well, he never liked them much from the start. Too many red flags.
But he never said it to you, never wanted you to feel that he didn’t like your friends because of his personal reasons, and also knowing how impressionable you were to his words, he didn’t say it to you because he didn’t want you to cut all your friends off and then stop being the outgoing girl you were.
He spent the night holding you and wiping your tears, telling you with that firm voice of his that he only used when he was really worried or serious about something—that it wasn’t on you at all. How you were the best girl ever and you didn’t wed such jerk friends anyways, how you can go and make more friends and perhaps better ones this time.
When you were finally out from it all and Baekhyun had insisted you on a change of your clothes—considering how wet and snotty you had gotten, he finally voiced the idea he had in his mind ever since you started, “so this café you were speaking of? Where it it?”
You replied to him, now feeling better as you pulled the loose t-shirt down on your torso and smiled. It was fairly new and had opened in the downtown.
Baekhyun smiled at you so tenderly while you spilled details and facts about the place, how you’ve heard such great things about the strawberry cheesecake from their menu and wanted to try it, you were so adorable and all he could do was smile as he presented his offer to you, “So, me and you then, this Saturday afternoon? How’s that sound?”
“What? You’ll go with me?”
He nodded sweetly and had to hold back a laugh at how surprised and taken aback you were at his question, though he also didn’t enjoy it much. Why would you be even surprised? He was your boyfriend, your lover. Of course, he’d be at your every whim and request. He’d take you everywhere you wanted to go to and he’ll tag along with you everywhere.
You suddenly ran to him and threw yourself into his arms. Baekhyun let out a chuckle, soft and warm, coming from the depths of his heart as you buried yourself in his arms, thanking him sweetly.
“You’ve got nothing to thank me for, silly girl. Of course, I’ll go with you. What do you take me for, huh? I’m your man.”
You beamed up at him as you settled back into the bed beside him, “I don’t know, I just think it’s sweet of you. I’ll love to go with you, you’ll love their caramel latte for sure!”
Fuck your friends if they didn’t want to go with you and hang out with you, Baekhyun would do all the things with you that required a friend—because he wasn’t just your lover, he was your best friend, your biggest supporter, your everything and every relation in life that you’d ever lacked.
He’ll be your man, your lover, your best friend, your father figure—whatever it takes for you to feel loved and cherished.
True to his word—like always, Baekhyun was there with you and you both found yourself sitting in a cozy dimlit cafe, munching on cheesecakes and cookies while sipping on your coffees.
Even though it might sound wrong, but Baekhyun didn’t—couldn’t hear a single word of what you were saying, something along the lines of how the place was so great and you’d buy their this and that.
“Let’s take one slice of that for home, too,” he just said easily, referring to the slice of New York styled cheesecake in your plate—he seemed to notice that you liked that one the best.
You nodded mindlessly and fell back into conversation while all he could do was just stare at you, the slice of chocolate cake in front of him long forgotten as he memorised all the little details about you—the way your lips tend to curve in a downwards smile when talking about desserts specifically.
“So… did you like the place, too?” You questioned, almost excited to know what he thought of the food and all that.
What an angel, he smiled at you like you were the center of his universe—you were. He reached across the table, intertwining his fingers in yours and he nodded, “of course, I did. You have the best taste, my pretty girl.”
His words gave you a rush like no other, it went straight to your head and you looked down, going lost in your thoughts—thoughts about Baekhyun.
At this exact moment some sort of epiphany occurred to you—you were so in deep, so far deep in love for him. You felt like a woman who had been lost and wandering meaninglessly your whole life and Baekhyun was the guiding hand who held you tightly and never let you go, like he was the one who could soothe the emptiness aching so intensely inside of you, every inch of your body—your existence, your very being, felt like it was made for him. Like he was meant to be your salvation.
Baekhyun looked at you with extreme levels of love and devotion in his eyes as he gestured the cashier to bring over the cheque. You shivered under his gaze, like you always did, helpless to the effect he had on you.
“I love you so much,” he almost whispered like it was something sacred yet the words came out easy and smooth, like he knew you needed to hear it and he said them often anyways.
“I love you more.”
You finished up quietly and just stared into eachother’s eyes in silence.
He’d take you home after this, giggle on the way home as you tell him some funny knock knock joke. Maybe once you’re both home he’d pepper you in kisses, talk stupid shit about how this painter was better than that painter, play chess though he’d let you win even if you suck at it, hold you close after you win, make out with you then maybe fuck you on the couch—slow and deep, before you’re both falling asleep right there in the living room.
And Baekhyun could and would live for eternity like that, that was all he would ever want in his life. Cry, laugh, fight, and do everything with you—even if it was baking a cake at 3 in the morning or just listening to your rant for hours about your favourite song.
He would choose you, over and over again. Always. In this lifetime and in any other one he existed in.
It was you and all you, the meaning to his life, the sunshine after the thunderstorm, the daisies on a warm summer afternoon, the cold breeze drifting through a hot summer night.
synopsis. you missed your first penalty as a Real Madrid player, costing the team a win which ultimately takes a huge toll on you and your already fluctuating confidence. Luckily Jude, being the natural born leader that he is, is there to reassure you that it’s okay to make mistakes.
warnings. soft dom!jude, praise kink, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, mentions of misogyny, no physical traits described other than jude being taller than reader, not proofread
word count. 2.9k
notes. bad timing? i’ve had this in the drafts for a while since, november 2025, so idk if the writing will be noticeably different or not. either way, i hope you enjoy! (despite the circumstances of today lol)
The second you sent the ball flying right over the goal, you wanted to die.
The game had been tense, tied up 2-2. Until the 87' mark when a player’s hand on the opposing team had come into contact with the ball.
Penalty for Real Madrid.
It was a blessing, and Kylian—god bless his heart—had told you to take it. His confidence in you made your heart swell and you knew that this was it. This was the moment to prove yourself after all the criticism. After each insult sent your way just because you were a woman.
You wanted to prove everyone wrong, but you were too in over your head.
The game ended in a draw, and even with everyone on the team saying that, it was okay, it was part of the game, it happens, it still wasn’t enough to get that ugly feeling of shame out of your chest.
You couldn’t even bear to face the media. You finished washing up and headed back to the hotel with the rest of the team, finding it difficult to even talk.
For the first hour alone in your hotel room, you laid idly on your bed, thinking of all the ways that penalty could’ve gone. You could’ve shot left. You should’ve just let Mbappé shoot it.
A soft knock on your door was what finally broke you out of your trance. Reluctantly, you stood, peering through the peep hole, only to see Jude standing on the other side.
Great. Just what you needed. You contemplated not answering at all, but when he knocked again, you decided it was just best to answer instead of making him worry.
There he stood in all his glory, that look of concern etched onto his face. "You alright?" He asked, eyes flicking over your expression like he was trying to figure you out. "You were quiet on the ride back."
He had to know what that was about, but knowing him, he wanted to hear it come from your mouth.
"Yeah, I’m fine," you replied casually, even though fine was the last word you would have used to describe how you were truly feeling. "Just tired."
"I know that feeling," he mused and stood at the doorway for a few more seconds in silence. You could see the gears turning in his head. Then, “can I come in?”
It was those words that really threw you off. You hadn’t expected them at all. Somehow, you managed to sputter out, “I, uh, don’t… yeah. Yeah, you can come in.”
Your body moved on its own, out of the doorway to give him space to come inside. You could feel the subtle way his body brushed against yours as he stepped forward, subconsciously gripping the doorknob tighter.
"Thanks. I don’t mean to intrude, just…" he sighed, giving you that same look of concern you wished he wouldn’t because it always made something churn in you. "Worried, is all.”
“About?” Like you didn’t already know.
“You missed the penalty and shut down,” he replied bluntly, not bothering to tap-dance around the real reason he’d visited you so late. “I’m not dumb. I can see it on your face. You’re upset.”
“Of course, I’m upset,” you retorted, yet there was no real bite in your words. Just exhaustion. “We were tied and I… I missed the shot that would’ve won us the game. A shot anyone else would’ve made.”
With the frustration always came the inevitable tears. And, as if on cue, you could feel your throat start to close up. Stupid. You couldn’t even handle yourself so what were you doing on a stage as big as Real Madrid?
You turned away, shame and guilt ebbing at you so harshly you couldn’t even look Jude’s way. You weren’t deserving of being in his presence. You let him and the team down.
"Y/n," Jude called with that stupid soft tone that made your heart flip every time. “Come on, look at me.”
You could never deny him so, despite yourself, you turned to face him, tears glazing over your eyes. You could only keep eye contact for so long before your head dipped down. “I’m sorry,” you croaked. “I didn’t mean to miss.”
Jude let out a sigh, no ounce of hesitation in his body as he moved forward to hold you in his arms. He let your head rest against his chest, cradling the back of your head like you were the most precious thing in the world.
“I know. No one does,” he whispered, fingers brushing against yours scalp. “It’s alright. You did nothing wrong. You hear me?”
You nodded even though you still felt like shit because, somehow, only he could get you to calm down like this. You sniffled, hands fisting his shirt.
“Thank you,” you eventually managed to get out.
“Don’t thank me,” he assured you, just as you pulled your head back enough to look up at him through your tear-filled lashes. “It’s what teammates are for.”
For a few seconds, you stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes like it was a normal thing for teammates to do. What wasn’t normal was how hot it got you. The feeling coiled itself in your stomach, running down your body until it reached the area between your legs.
You swallowed hard, and whether he caught it or not was the least of your concerns right then and there.
“You’re tense,” were finally the words to break the excruciating silence. He looked over you—stop doing that—before placing his hand on your shoulder. “You should sit down.”
You were already moving without so much as a second thought, his hand helping guide you until you were sat on the edge of the bed.
Jude towered over you which wasn’t help your brain. Tormenting thoughts of his hands on you began to infiltrate your mind. Unwanted, but ultimately inevitable.
“You okay?” He asked, so concerned, when it was you that was riling yourself up.
“Fine. I’m… fine,” you murmured, hands placed in your lap, absentmindedly messing with your fingers. How much longer would he be in here?
Jude was many things, but blind wasn’t one of them. The subtle shift in your gaze when he was looking at you. The hitch in your breath. The way you were slightly pressing your thighs together now. He saw it all.
"Don't be so hard on yourself," he said. "You can relax around me."
If only he knew he was the one reason why you couldn't find it in you to relax.
When he placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, you shivered. "Is there something else bothering you?"
Yes. You wanted to say. You.
"It's nothing. It's just…" your voice came out a pitch higher. "I'm really sore, that's all. I can't sleep right now." It was the first thing you thought to say.
"It's not that."
You raised your brows, surprised that he managed to call you out so quickly. "Well, it's obviously the game Jude," you said, voice bubbling up with frustration, scared that he'd figure you out, and internally willing him to leave you alone.
He went quiet, as if stunned—hurt, by your outburst, and you regretted your words entirely. He was only trying to make you feel better.
The guilt surged in you, making your stomach cave in, afraid that you had actually hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry," you strained. "I just… I can't think around you."
It was the most honest you'd ever been with him. You hated how you wanted to cry now, a sob lodging itself in your throat. He probably hated you. You ruined it, just like you do everything else.
Instead of walking out like you expected him to, his face softened, gazing down at you like a delicate thing. "Oh, Y/n… I know."
Your gaze shot up at that, looking him in the eye, searching for any sign that he was messing with you, but he wasn't.
"I never said anything because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," he explained, moving forward to sit next to you on the bed. "And because we're teammates. That would be inappropriate."
Right. Inappropriate. Your thoughts exactly. You were glad he was shutting you down. Someone had to be the mature one.
Even then, what you knew was right only hurt you further. As Jude settled next to you, his scent wafted over, overwhelming your senses to the point where you had to force yourself to stay still, clutching the fabric of your shorts.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," he scolded softly, no ill intent in his voice. "I see how hard you work—harder than anybody on this team."
He zeroed in on the rise and fall of your chest, finding his own breath quickening. "You deserve a break. Let me lay that stress off of you… just as teammates."
A shaky breath escaped you. You weren't sure what he meant by that—not until he leaned down to gently press his lips against yours.
Your eyes widened in surprise before they fluttered shut, melting against him like you'd dreamed of doing so many times before.
He coaxed you back down against the bed, hovering over your body, licking into your mouth, kissing you in ways you'd never been kissed before. So good it practically turned off your brain.
Jude pulled back, enough to see your face completely. His lips curved up warmly. "Is this okay?"
You nodded, unable to use your words.
"Okay. Just trust me, and I'll make you forget all about today."
He began to pepper kisses along your cheek, trailing them down your neck. Meanwhile, his hand dragged up along your leg, retreating beneath your shirt to get a feel of your boobs, squeezing one between his fingers, enough to make you whimper.
"I want to make you feel good," he whispered, words velvety as he made his way down your body, spreading your legs open. "You deserve it. You deserve so much, you just don't realize it."
His mouth hovered just over your stomach, eyes peering up at you, searching for even the slightest hint of hesitation, but when he found none, he grabbed the waistband of your shorts, peeling them and your panties down simultaneously.
The sight before him made him groan. "You're gorgeous."
He leaned down, lips pressing against your thigh, feeling you tremble beneath him. Then, he took his slender fingers, running a few over your slit, only to find you completely soaked.
"This all for me?" Jude asked. Rhetorical. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you?"
He pinched your clit suddenly, and your hips twitched up involuntarily, eyes going wide. "Jude—"
"Don't worry. I'll give you everything you need."
A part of you knew you shouldn't be doing this, letting him touch you like you were anything other than teammates. You could only imagine the outrage if anyone were to catch you—but Jude's touch was dizzying, enough to dim the logic in your head.
He finally nested his head between your thighs, tongue coming out to lap up the sweetness between your folds.
Your hand shot out to the side, fingers digging fruitlessly into the bed sheets, while the other held onto Jude's hair.
Jude felt you tug at his hair, groaned, yet couldn't be bothered by it as he continued to feast on you, his thumb rubbing over your clit, fucking you with his tongue, before slipping two of his fingers inside you.
You writhed beneath him, trembling with the effort of not cumming because you wanted the moment to last—to have Jude touching you. "Jude, it feels so good."
"Yeah? I know it does sweetheart. Gripping my fingers like this. Need to prepare you before you take my cock."
Your pussy squelched with each stroke he gave it, walls practically refusing to let him go whenever he pulled his fingers out, only to push them right back in a second later.
"Can you cum? I want you to cum all over me, sweetheart."
The combined sensation of his tongue and his fingers, alongside the achingly sweet words falling from his mouth, was enough to break you, body tensing up as you finally came,
"That's it," Jude crooned, not pulling his fingers out yet. "Give me everything."
You attempted to catch your breath as your body went limp against the bed. You whimpered when Jude finally pulled his fingers out of you, missing the feeling already.
Jude eventually sat back up on his knees, your arousal still on his chin, watching you for a minute.
The sight of you like that, for reasons he couldn't explain, had his chest aching with the sudden urge to protect you. To keep you safe from the world and their disgusting words. You were so perfect, and he wanted you to know that.
He wanted you.
"Turn over for me, sweetheart." Jude didn't wait for you to move, taking it upon himself to grab your hips, turning you over softly until your face was perched against the bed.
His thumbs pressed into the dimples of your lower back, urging you to arch just enough so your ass was in the air, on full display for him.
He wanted to take a bite of that skin, but instead, he pressed his palm against your backside, fingers curling inward just to hear you gasp, before loosening his grip, stroking over the sting.
"I'm not—not used to this," you confessed, more embarrassed now that you had said it out loud.
"That's okay," he murmured, voice rough, and he wouldn't admit that hearing you say that—so bashfully, like that would make him change his mind—went straight to his dick. "It'll feel good for you. I'll make sure of it."
Jude was quick to rid himself of his sweatpants, cock springing out, leaking with pre-cum, practically weeping from being untouched.
He gave himself a quick stroke before coming up behind you, his body hovering over yours, making sure not to press all of his weight into you because god, like this, you seemed so fragile.
"I'll go slow," Jude said, but it wasn't a promise.
You trusted him, didn't doubt him for one second. And after only being able to dream of it for months, he finally inched himself in, so torturously slow.
Tears glazed over your eyes, clearly not prepared for the sudden stretch of him, and your hands went grasping for the sheets. "Oh, Jude—"
"I know," he cooed, words tight, trying to keep some semblance, moving forward until he was fully nudged inside you. "Just relax."
Jude let out ragged breaths, chest heaving as he struggled to control himself when he all wanted to do was fuck you senseless. You had him so hard, twitching inside your cunt, that he couldn't even think straight.
"Move, please, move." It sounded so pathetic leaving your mouth, convulsing around him helplessly. "Jude, please."
His control had frayed, and he didn't need to be told twice, pulling out all the way before thrusting back inside with a moan.
"You're so good f'me," he blabbered as he set a rough pace, kissing your insides so well that your toes were curling, barely giving you a second to breath. "You deserve this—deserve it all."
Each thrust was deliberate, as if he were desperate to rewrite the doubt instilled in your brain. "I need you, y'hear me? You'd never let me down. Don't ever forget that."
You couldn't even respond, cheek gliding along the bed with every stroke, pushing your body in ways football never had. Your pussy pulsed around him instead as a thank you, and it boosted Jude's ego, seeing you so fucked out because of him.
He managed to push deeper inside you, impossibly so, his name falling from your open mouth like a litany—Jude, Jude, Jude—the only thing on your mind being him and the way his cock hypnotized you.
"Gonna cum—gonna give you all of it, all of me," he moaned, stuck in a daze until the very end when he could no longer hold back, spilling inside you, spurt after spurt, like you were his girl—and you were. You just didn't know it.
Pleasure flooded your features, cumming right with him. You felt him go still, plugging you up with his cum, your insides now warm and content.
Jude went limp above you, his full body weight pressing down on yours, almost suffocatingly—a feeling you found strangely grounding.
His head curled down to your shoulder, burying his face in your neck as he let himself take a proper breather.
He had yet to pull out. Not on purpose. He just didn't want to.
"Mm… y'were so good f'me," he whispered, voice thick with exhaustion. He planted kisses onto your neck, drawing more shivers from you. "Love you."
Maybe he hadn't realized what he just said, but you were certainly aware enough to catch it. "You—what?"
He just smiled against your skin. "Love you," he repeated. "Made me feel so good. Cuddle?"
Jude didn't wait for your response, his arms tightening around your body as he manhandled you over to your side so he was spooning you from behind, his cock still very-much snug inside you.
He pulled you as close to him as he could, and you couldn't find it in you to complain. Relaxing in his warmth, his scent, was easy, and it was all enough to pull you under, the exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs.
Your head lulled back against his chest, over the soft thumps of his heart. A smile played on his lips as he watched you sleep, a sight he could get used to.
He sighed, knowing he'd have to settle for calling you his teammate.
⟡ summary: even amid that intense rivalry, there was something stronger than simply being enemies; junmyeon and you knew that very well.
⟡ content: +18 content, mdni, smut, plot with porn, office au, enemies to lovers, mention of alcohol, angst, swearing, oral sex (both receiving), sub and dom leaning, brief manhandling, raw sex, dirty talking, creampie, doggy, multiple orgasms, cum eating, junmyeon's a certified yearner, but reader has evitative attachment | junmyeon x f!reader | wordcount: 15.5k words (sorryyyy)
⟡ a/note: hi, my loves !! omg, part 2 is finally here. first, i'd like to thank you all for supporting ewb when it was just an idea that popped up in my head on a random day. tbh, i didn't expect to write a second part, but when you asked for it, it was like 'why not?' and then, i realized i didn't want it to end (that explains the 15k words, lmao). second, you're gonna see different povs. it was 100% intentional to focus on jm/reader feelings and struggles, so don't be surprised when the pov changes between the dividers !! i hope you enjoy it, mhwaaa <3
Monday morning arrived with its usual sharp reality. Standing in the elevator, you watched the floor numbers climb, adjusting the collar of your blazer to make absolutely certain that the faint, fading shadow on your collarbone was completely invisible to the rest of the world.
When the doors opened, there he was.
Junmyeon was standing by the printer, looking untouchable. His suit was tailored to perfection, his hair was swept back, not a single strand out of place, and he was tearing into a junior analyst about a formatting error in a report. But then, his eyes caught yours.
For a split second, the mask slipped. His gaze dropped to your lips, then flickered to your neck, a knowing glint appearing in his eyes that made your skin tingle with the memory of his mouth on yours. He didn’t smile. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, a familiar, arrogant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re five minutes late.” His voice was smooth and professional. “Busy weekend?”
“I just like to make an entrance, Kim,” you countered, walking past him to leave your purse, purposely brushing your shoulder against his arm.
Junmyeon let out a sharp, scoffing laugh—the kind designed specifically to piss you off—and as usual, he spent the rest of the morning sabotaging your workflow. He accidentally forgot to CC you on a memo, challenged your data in the 10:00 AM briefing, and made sure to mention his sales leads at every possible opportunity.
It was infuriating. It was classic. It was exactly the kind of rivalry that kept the office gossiping.
The week was going to be long, and he was going to spend every second of it trying to get through your mind—and under your skin, but you didn’t mind. After all, you knew exactly how he looked when his suit was on the floor, and his pride was in your hands.
The BBQ restaurant was loud, filled with the sizzle of meat on grills and the boisterous laughter of a team finally letting off steam. Normally, a Wednesday night dinner would be a tactical battlefield for you and Junmyeon, but the atmosphere—and perhaps the several rounds of drinks—had softened the edges of the workday.
Junmyeon was sitting across from you, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the strong lines of his forearms as he expertly manned the grill. He was in his element, playing the part of the attentive manager, but his focus kept drifting.
While you were busy laughing at a story Minji was telling, you didn’t notice that your small dipping bowl was empty. Without a word, and without even breaking eye contact with the person he was talking to, Junmyeon reached over. He took your bowl, refilled it with the exact amount of sauce you liked, and placed it back in front of you.
A moment later, he noticed you struggling with a particularly large piece of galbi. Quietly, he picked up the kitchen shears, snipped the meat into perfect, bite-sized pieces for you, and nudged the plate closer to your hand. It was seamless—a silent, domestic habit that had no place in a professional rivalry.
Sora, sitting right next to you, went quiet. She watched the exchange with wide eyes, then leaned in close, her shoulder bumping yours.
“Okay… what’s going on with you two?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses, but dripping with mischief. “Since when does Kim Junmyeon do table service?”
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “He’s just doing the same for the whole team.”
“Uh-huh.” A smirk played on Sora’s lips as she watched Junmyeon subconsciously slide the best cut of ribeye onto your plate. “He hasn’t cut anyone else’s meat, babe. In fact, he just told Minho to get his own water.”
Minji caught it too, joining the conversation immediately. “If I didn’t know you guys hated each other, I’d say he looks like a man who’s already obsessed.”
“Exactly!”
“Look at him—he’s literally waiting for you to take a bite to see if it’s cooked right,” Minji added.
You looked up, and sure enough, Junmyeon was watching you through the haze of the grill smoke. He caught your eye, and for a split second, that arrogant, competitive mask was nowhere to be found.
“C’mon… he’s just being annoying,” you muttered to your friend, though your heart was hammering against your ribs.
“If that’s annoying,” Sora laughed, raising her glass to her lips, “then I need to find myself an enemy, fast.” Both of them laughed together while you tried to bite your tongue.
“I agree,” Hana added after being extremely quiet, observing everything with a mischievous smile. “It’s getting hot in here, huh?” She pinched your cheek, clearly mocking you.
“Please… shut up.”
The night stretched on, fueled by more rounds of drinks and the loud, comfortable chaos of the team. Even though you were sitting at opposite ends of the table now—having been separated by a reshuffle of seating—the air between you felt like a live wire.
You didn’t speak to him. You barely even looked at him. But you were acutely aware of Junmyeon in a way that felt almost biological. You could feel the exact moment his eyes drifted toward you from across the room; you could hear his low, distinct laugh even over ten other people talking.
It was a strange, magnetic tension that neither of you could explain to anyone else.
When the dinner finally wound down, and everyone spilled out onto the sidewalk to hail taxis, the cool night air hit you with a sharp clarity. The team was buzzing, exchanging hugs and drunken promises of “doing that every week,” but you stayed on the periphery, searching for your phone in your bag.
Suddenly, the space beside you grew warm.
“The driver is five minutes away,” Junmyeon said quietly. He wasn’t looking at you; he was looking at the traffic, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. “I put it on my app.”
“I can get my own uber, Junmyeon,” you replied, though the protest was weak. Neither of you drank that much, but somehow the alcohol had made your limbs feel heavy and your heart a little too open.
“I know you can,” he murmured, finally turning his head to look at you. The streetlights caught the sharp line of his jaw and the dark, unreadable depth of his eyes. “But I’m not asking.”
There was that dominance again—the quiet, effortless way he took charge that usually made you want to scream, but tonight, it just made your breath hitch.
The car was quiet, the city lights blurring into long, neon streaks across the window. Junmyeon looked like a completely different person in the dim cabin. With his head tilted back against the headboard and his glasses slightly askew, he looked human—vulnerable, even. His chest rose and fell in a slow, heavy rhythm that suggested he’d finally succumbed to the alcohol and the long day.
You let out a soft, huffing breath, leaning your head back as well. “Idiot,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the hum of the tires. “Acting like you’re so composed, cutting my food like that in front of everyone... you’re going to get us caught one of these days.”
You paused, watching the shadow of a streetlight pass over his sharp features.
“I don’t know how you do it,” you continued softly, thinking he was sleeping. “Being the most annoying person I’ve ever met and… the only one I actually wanna see at the end of the day. God—it’s frustrating.”
“I called it a talent.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin. Junmyeon hadn’t moved an inch, but his lips were parted in a lazy, lopsided smirk. He didn’t open his eyes, but he reached out, his hand fumbling blindly across the leather seat until his fingers found yours, lacing through them with a firm grip over his thigh.
“You’re… awake?” you stammered, feeling the heat rush to your face.
“Just resting.” His thumb began a slow stroke over the back of your hand. “And for the record, I wasn’t acting. You were struggling, and I know how much you hate asking for help, sweetheart.”
Junmyeon finally opened his eyes, though they were heavy and slightly unfocused behind his glasses. He turned his head to look at you, his gaze dropping to your mouth.
“By the way, you’re terrible at ‘hating’ me. Your voice gets all soft when you think I’m asleep. Adorable.”
You bit your cheek, a smile threatening to break through your annoyed facade. You quickly turned your face toward the window, looking out at the passing buildings to hide the way your lips were curving.
“Shut up, Kim,” you whispered, though you didn’t pull your hand away. “The alcohol is talking.”
“It made me honest.” His voice dropped to a low, intimate rasp as he pulled your hand toward his lap.
You looked back at him, your heart hammering. “Go back to sleep.”
“Yes, m’am.” He curved his lips before nodding at you, holding your hand tighter. The way he was looking at you, with that raw, unfiltered hunger, made you want to surrender all over again.
Of course, the elevator ride seemed to go on forever; the numbers on the display ticked by far too slowly. Junmyeon let you go in first and slowly stepped in behind you. Even when he acted quietly, he radiated a heat that was impossible to ignore.
“Go home,” he whispered, his hand ghosting over your elbow for a split second—a touch so brief it could have been an accident, if not for the way his fingers lingered. “Sleep. You look like you’re already dreaming.”
“And what would I be dreaming about?” you dared to ask, looking up at him through your lashes.
A slow, dangerous smirk ghosted over his lips. “Me. Obviously.”
“Then… you sure you want me to go?”
His eyes dropped to your lips; he couldn’t even answer your question. His mouth crashed onto yours as his life depended on it, wrapping his arm around your waist. Your fingers rapidly looked into his pocket for his keys, struggling to open the door when his lips slid through your neck.
“Fuck—I need you.”
“I know you do, Kim.”
The door slammed open. You didn’t even make it to his bedroom before his tie was wrapped around your fist, pulling him closer until you could feel the frantic thud of his heart against your chest.
It was like the heat in your bodies evaporated the alcohol in your systems. Effortlessly, Junmyeon carried you in his arms to take you to bed. His lips quickly found yours again, his fingers exploring every inch of your body that wasn’t covered by your clothes. Suddenly, his nimble hands slipped off your sweater and unbuttoned your blouse as his mouth trailed down to your neck and collarbone.
“What the hell did you do to me?” He sucked your lower lip, groaning when your fingers gripped his hair tightly.
“Hmm? Nothing… yet,” you purred, chuckling.
His lips curved. “You devilish woman.” Junmyeon just pulled away a few inches as his hands took his vest off, then his tie, and finally his shirt. Without breaking eye contact with you, he let his clothes fall piece by piece onto the floor. “Will you behave tonight?”
When he saw the look in your eyes—that defiant gaze that drove him completely crazy—he leaned in to kiss you once more, slowly, passionately, just like him.
But you weren’t waiting for permission. You knelt over the mattress, your fingers tangled in his belt, pulling on it until it loosened, unbuttoning his pants to take them off in a quick move that made him groan in surprise.
“Shit—”
Your palm met the searing heat against his boxers. His cock was semi-hard, but as your thumb began a slow, agonizingly firm stroke up the length, he let out a sound that was half-gasp, half-sob, reacting at every touch.
“Behave?” You found his eyes that spoke more than his own mouth. “Of course, love,” you whispered against his skin, your mouth trailing hot kisses down his sternum, leaving a wet trail until you reach his hip.
“Fuck—baby,” he choked out, his breath ragged, making his voice sound rougher. “Make me feel good.”
“Always.”
You moved lower, your lips ghosting over the ripples of his abs, tracing the soft trail of hair that led straight into the waistband of his boxers, discharging them in a slow move. You could feel the muscles in his stomach twitch and contract under your tongue. When you finally reached the tip, you looked up, watching his face through your lashes—the way his glasses were sliding down his nose and his lips were parted in a silent plea.
“Are you going to admit how much you need this?”
“I need it,” he rasped, his hands fisting on nothing. “I fucking need you. I’ve been sitting in that damn restaurant all night just thinking about you in my bed. Fuck—please... just take me.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You took his cock into your hand, your thumb swirling over the weeping tip, and then you leaned down, your tongue taking a long, slow lick from the base to the crown.
Junmyeon completely lost it. His hips jerked off, a loud groan leaving his lips. “God, yes! You’re so fucking good at this... and so damn pretty.”
“Am I?” you whispered, before taking him into your mouth, your eyes locked on his.
Junmyeon’s fingers were trembling with the sheer force of the lust. “Fuck yes, doll. So damn gorgeous and mine.”
You pulled out, leaving a trail of saliva, kissing his base, wrapping your fingers around his cock, the heat of his skin searing against your palm. He was thick and pulsing, and the sensation of him jumping under your touch made a low, triumphant hum vibrate in your throat. You started a slow, deliberate rhythm, your hand sliding up to the very crown, squeezing just tight enough to hear him gasp.
“You’re so responsive tonight,” you whispered, looking up at him. “Such a good boy.”
“Y-yes—y’know I am,” he managed to choke out, his hands reaching down to bury themselves in your hair, his fingers tangling deep against your scalp. Junmyeon wasn’t pulling you away; he was anchoring himself, his knuckles white as he fought to stay standing.
That sly smile on your lips couldn’t be hidden even when you bit your lower lip. You leaned in and took his cock into your mouth, the sudden heat and wetness causing his knees to buckle slightly. You swirled your tongue around the ridge, focusing on every sensitive nerve ending until he was swearing—low, filthy words that praised and cursed your name all at once.
“Oh… Jesus. That damn mouth of yours.”
When you slid back out, replacing your mouth with your hand, he let out a frustrated, needy sound. You jerked him off with a relentless, punishing speed, your thumb grinding against the tip while your other hand reached down to squeeze him at the base.
“Fuck... don’t stop, please,” he begged, his hips starting to move in a raw, uncoordinated rhythm, thrusting forward into your palm. “I’m right there... Please—”
“So desperate.” But certainly, every time he begged you, it vibrated directly into your wet, aching cunt.
You dived back down, swallowing his cock again, feeling his tip hitting your throat. You could feel the muscles in his thighs trembling as he lost the battle with his own composure. Junmyeon began to thrust more urgently now, his hips snapping forward against your face as he chased his release.
The lack of air made you pull out, breathless, dripping spit all over your lips. You had him in a vice grip, your palm slick with pre-cum and spit. Every time his hips bucked too hard, you’d slow down, circling his tip with just the very point of your tongue, watching his eyes roll back behind his glasses. Then, before he could catch his breath, you’d plunge back down, taking him so deep your eyes watered, your throat tight and welcoming.
“Fuck—yes!”
The sound coming from Junmyeon was primal—a low, rhythmic growl that vibrated through your skull as his hands tightened in your hair. He was trying so hard to maintain his poise, his thighs corded with tension as he fought to keep his rhythm steady, but you were determined to win.
“Stop fighting it, Junmyeon,” you murmured against his skin, your thumb and forefinger teasing his balls, a slow, heavy knead that made his breath hitch. “Cum for me.”
“Shit,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening, his knees were visibly shaking. “God—you’re so fucking good... I’m coming—”
Junmyeon didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t. His body went rigid, his fingers trembling into your hair as he was breathless, broken, and completely yours.
You swirled your tongue around the ridge of his tip with a wet, frantic suction that was too much for him. Junmyeon finally shattered. He let out a loud, choked-off shout, his hands yanking your head closer as he finally came, the force of it sending waves through his entire body.
You didn’t pull away. You kept licking his tip, lips dripping, swallowing his seed, feeling the heavy, rhythmic pulses against your tongue. When you finally stopped, his cum was dripping from your chin, your fingers sticky. Junmyeon looked like he’d just survived a wreck—holding you weakly, chest heaving, his glasses lopsided and his eyes glazed with a look of pure, unadulterated ruin.
His hands were still shaky, but as he regained a shred of his strength, that stubborn, dominant streak flared back up.
He reached out, his thumb catching a drop of himself on your chin, but instead of wiping it away, he smeared it slowly across your lower lip, making you suck his finger completely. Defiant, you kept staring at him as your tongue circled his thumb, knowing full well that deep down, your body was crying out for a little more of him.
“Now it’s my turn to play, doll.” He leaned down, his face inches from yours. He didn’t hesitate; he crashed his mouth onto yours, tasting himself on your tongue, claiming the mess you made.
Junmyeon pulled back just enough to look you in the eye again, his thumb now teasing the corner of your mouth.
You bit his thumb, looking at him boldly, knowing exactly what effect you were having on him. “Is it?”
“You gorgeous brat.” That dangerous, dark smirk returning to his lips. “I’m not done with you.” He reached for your waist, his grip firm and bruising, his eyes darkening as he looked at the curves of your body still partially hidden by your lace underwear. “On all fours.”
Goosebumps traveled your body. The moment your knees hit the mattress, Junmyeon was behind you, his presence a heavy, suffocating heat. He didn’t wait for you to settle; his hands were rough and efficient, hooking into the sides of your lace panties and stripping them down your legs in one fluid, impatient motion, giving you a firm spank that caught you off guard, making you whimper and clench your inner muscles.
“Shit—Junmyeon!”
He let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated against your skin when he saw your state. “Look at that,” he rasped, his large hands coming up to grip your hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks as he pulled them wide. “You’ve been acting like a little saint while you’re absolutely fucking wet for me.”
“Junmyeon,” you sobbed, your head dropping as you braced your forearms against the pillows. “I swear to god, if you don’t stop talking—ah!”
You gasped as he suddenly leaned down, his mouth replacing his gaze. He didn’t ease into it; he buried his face between your flesh, his tongue lashing out to taste the slick, heavy mess in your pussy. The sensation was so sharp, so unexpected, that your thighs trembled and your elbows buckled.
“Fuck—you taste like heaven,” he growled against your skin, his hands shifting to lock around your waist, hauling you back up so you were arched and exposed.
While he made out with your cunt, he slid two fingers deep inside you, scissoring them with a ruthless, rhythmic speed that had you wailing his name into the empty room.
“Junmyeon!” you cried, your back arching as he hit that perfect spot deep inside. “Oh…”
His fingers moved faster; your fluids made the sensation even more pleasurable. “Tell me how it feels. Tell me how much you love being my fucktoy.”
You felt your knees weak, your eyes closed shut tightly, feeling completely exposed and his. “Ah—I love it,” you confessed, your voice a broken, filthy wreck. “I… Fuck—Junmyeon, you feel so good.” The words slipped from your lips without you even thinking about it.
“Good girl,” he whispered, his tongue finding your clit while his fingers stayed buried deep.
Your legs went weak when you heard that pet name. “Junmyeon… please,” you whimpered.
That soft chuckle made you grip the sheets, enough to know that he was playing the same game you had started. “Shit. So damn wet for me. Just for me.”
Junmyeon pulled out his fingers, making you whimper in fear that he would stop, but he didn’t. His mouth sucked so hard and desperately at your folds that the erotic sound coming from his mouth was enough to make your muscles clench, before his fingers were grinding against your clit.
“Oh… fuck. I-I’m so close.” It sounded like a plea in between ragged moans.
“Wanna cum for me, baby?”
“Y-yes!”
His words were enough to push you to the limit, just as he wanted. Your thighs trembled; the sensation you felt was so overwhelming that even his breathing made you shiver. Your whole body was jolted by an electric shock, pushing you to your first orgasm of the night.
Junmyeon didn’t let the silence last. He moved with a focused, predatory intent, shifting his weight behind you until you felt the searing, solid heat of his cock pressing against your entrance.
“Stay still, love,” he commanded in that deep, lower tone, making you breathe in.
Junmyeon shoved himself in, his tip dragging slowly through the slick mess his mouth had helped create. You were so sensitive that even that slight friction made your inner walls twitch in a desperate, involuntary rhythm.
“Oh… fuck,” he breathed, his voice right against your lower back, thick with a dark, satisfied hunger. “You feel so good.”
You couldn’t even form a coherent thought, you gasped, getting used to the sensation. Your hands scrambled forward, your fingers knotting into the sheets, knuckles turning white as you braced yourself. “Junmyeon... please.”
He held your waist with a grip that felt like iron, and he pushed forward. The first movement was agonizingly slow and consuming, his cock stretching you open, filling every empty inch of you. Your breath hitched and stayed stuck in your lungs—a heavy, overwhelming sensation of being completely claimed.
“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his forehead dropping against your shoulder blade as he buried himself to the hilt. “Every time... you feel fucking incredible.”
You let out a long, broken moan, your head falling to the pillows as you felt the sheer weight of him inside you. “Junmyeon—ah! You’re so deep.”
“I’m gonna be deeper,” he promised, his fingers digging into your hips to steady you. He began a slow, rhythmic pull-out, only to drive back in with a little more force. “You like that?”
“Ah—yes, yes!”
You sobbed his name into the pillow, your body arching as he found the perfect rhythm. The slow, deep thrusts were more torturous than the fast ones, forcing you to feel every ridge, every pulse, and every bit of his cock.
The slow, agonizing rhythm snapped. Junmyeon’s thrusts became harder, more territorial, driving deep into you with a force that made the headboard rattle against the wall.
You let your cheek rest on the mattress, trying to control your breathing, feeling your vision blur with each thrust. “Oh my god…” You felt his palm press against your head, pressing hard, causing your walls to contract once more, quivering in a mixture of desperation and pleasure.
“You like this, don’t you?” he rasped, his voice a jagged growl in your ear as he pulled your hips back to meet every punishing strike. “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels to be filled like this.”
“Shit—” you sobbed, your head thrashing against the pillow. “You’re... fuck—so good.”
“Yes?” he chuckled, pressing his palm a little harder. “Your little pussy feels like paradise. So made for me.”
“Oh—god,” you moaned, completely breathless. “Just… just go harder.”
“I’ll give you anything you want,” he promised, his breath hitching as he felt your walls clenching desperately around his length.
Junmyeon reached forward, his hands finding the clasp of your bra and flicking it open with practiced ease, tossing the lace aside. As you arched your back, seeking more contact, he hauled you upright. He pulled you flush against his sweating torso, your spine pressed firmly against his hard chest. The contrast of his hot skin against your back sent a fresh jolt of electricity through you.
“Can you hold it back a little, hmm?” His breath made you shiver so much that all you could do was nod helplessly.
One of his hands slid up to your throat, his fingers curling around your neck with a firm, commanding pressure that stole your breath and replaced it with a dizzying, primal heat. His other hand was a frantic, possessive weight on your breasts, kneading and pulling at your nipples as he continued to fuck you from behind with a relentless, driving pace.
“Does it feel good?” he whispered darkly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your shoulder. “Just feel me inside, baby.”
You tried to nod, to answer, but the combination was lethal. The lack of air, the bruising pressure on your neck, and the sensation of him filling you to the hilt while his hand dominated your boobs pushed you straight over the edge. You couldn’t even whine; you could only let out a silent, open-mouthed gasp as your entire body seized, tearing up.
“Jun—ah!”
You hit your climax with a violence that shocked you, your inner walls squeezing him so hard it was almost painful. You were shaking, tearing up, your vision blurring as the pleasure peaked, clenching around him in rhythmic, desperate waves.
“Fuck!” Junmyeon let out a pained, guttural shout, his fingers digging into your neck as he struggled to maintain his own control. Your orgasm was dragging him under, the sheer suction of you making his own release feel like a ticking time bomb. “I’m... coming.”
“Ah! Do it.”
Junmyeon tried to keep his pace, but the way you were sobbing and pulsing around him was the final blow to his composure. He let out a guttural, pained sound—half-groan, half-sob. His cock throbbed inside you, thick and frantic, filling you with a heat that felt like it was reaching your very core.
“Fuck—y-yes, yes!” he whimpered, his forehead dropping against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged, desperate hitches. He repeated your name like a prayer, a confession of total surrender that stripped away every bit of his own control.
Junmyeon didn’t pull away. He held you in place, his arm still locked around your waist, his hand slowly softening its grip on your neck, keeping your trembling body upright as your muscles began to fail. You felt your whole system shutting down, leaving you limp and heavy in his arms.
The silence that followed was heavy with the scent of sex and the sound of two people trying to remember how to breathe. Neither of you moved for a long time, the only connection being the erratic thud of your hearts and the cooling slick of sweat between your bodies.
You felt Junmyeon pulling out, his weight leaving the bed for a moment as you collapsed softly into the pillows, your limbs feeling like lead. You heard the rustle of tissues and the soft sound of him cleaning you up with a gentle, focused care that felt like a quiet apology for the bruising intensity of minutes before.
Junmyeon didn’t stay away long. He pulled the duvet over both of you, sliding into the clean side of the bed and immediately hauling you back against his chest. His skin was still hot, his heart thudding a slow, steady rhythm against your spine.
“Drink some water.”
You didn’t have to open your eyes to know that he had already left the glass of water and the pills on the nightstand. “I’m tired.”
“Then rest,” he murmured, his voice thick and heavy with sleep and a faint whiff of whiskey. “It was a long day.” He buried his nose deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply. “You smell so good.”
You let out a weak, shaky laugh, your eyes already drifting shut. “I smell like BBQ, sweat, and probably you.”
“No, no,” he grumbled, his grip tightening around your waist as he nuzzled further into your hair. “You smell like... you. And my favorite distraction.”
You couldn’t believe the absurdity of his words, but there he was making you laugh again. “God… you’re so dumb.”
Junmyeon was quiet for a long second, his breathing leveling out, before he spoke again, the words slurring just a fraction. “Did you call me dumb?”
“Junmyeon,” you moved in his arms to face him directly. His glasses were gone, his eyes were barely open, and he looked completely undone. “Are you drunk?”
He let out a huff of a laugh that ended in a tired sigh. “Yes,” he lied, using that as an excuse to lean in and kiss your lips, slowly, sloppy and messily, until his lips formed a slight curve that looked like a smile. “Very drunk.”
“Sure you are.” You smiled, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, the barely touch made him close his eyes. “Well… since you’re so honest right now, tell me. Who’s actually the best on the team?”
“You,” he answered immediately, his voice dropping to a low, rough whisper. “It’s always been you. You’re the only one who actually makes me work for it.”
You felt a flutter in your chest, but you played it off. “Okay, now I know you’re wasted. You’d never say that sober.”
“Mmm... maybe,” Junmyeon murmured, his eyes finally sliding shut for good. He moved even closer, his lips brushing against your neck as his voice trailed off into a barely audible mumble. “But you’re really good. That’s why I really like you. Just... you.”
Your heart did a violent somersault against your ribs. You felt that strange, warm ache in your stomach, the kind that had nothing to do with the sex.
“What?” you whispered, your breath hitching. “What did you say?”
“You. I like… you.”
“Junmyeon…”
But there was no answer. That deep sigh was the only sign that he had fallen fast asleep, leaving you frozen, replaying his words over and over in your mind.
He was just drunk—that’s all it was, you told yourself. But deep down, your heart kept pounding, wondering how much truth there was in his words.
The morning was a blur of caffeine and denial. You were staring into your coffee mug like the answers were written in the foam, standing in the silent break room. You tried, you really tried to convince yourself that it was nothing but a stupid joke.
The clink of the metal spoon against the ceramic mug was the only sound in the room—until it wasn’t.
“You left early.” The familiar voice ghosting near your ear.
You jumped, the spoon clattering loudly as you nearly slopped hot coffee onto your blazer. You didn’t even have to turn around to know it was him.
“Jesus…” you breathed, finally turning to face him, ending up physically trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “You scared me.”
His lips curved, oblivious to the weight in your chest. “Good morning.” Junmyeon leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, ready to continue when reality hit you like a truck.
That’s why I really like you—looping in your brain. The ghost that made you spend the night staring at the ceiling, and getting out of his bed earlier than you expected.
“Junmyeon—!” The panic filled your soul. You placed your trembling hands on his chest, doing your best to keep a few inches of distance between you. At the end, you were at work. “Someone… could see.” Your eyes darted around the room so quickly, afraid that someone might see you.
“Hey… hey, easy.” Junmyeon cupped your face to help you relax, stroking your cheeks with both thumbs. “There’s no one here. Just you and me.” There was a hint of the man from the night before. It wasn’t his usual competitive glare; it was something quieter, more observant. “Did something happen?”
Great. He didn’t remember.
“No!” you lied, your voice a pitch too high. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked like you needed sleep.”
“I did,” he admitted, trying to catch your eye—which you were trying to avoid. “But I woke up to a cold bed and a very quiet apartment.”
You gave him a weak, strained smile, focusing intensely on everything but his deep gaze. “Yeah, well, I had to work. Besides... I didn’t wanna keep listening to nonsense.”
Shit. You said it out loud. You took his hands and moved them away from your face, feeling like a fool.
Junmyeon went quiet. He watched you for a beat too long, his eyes tracking the way your fingers were trembling slightly.
“Nonsense?” he asked, his voice dropping to that low, private register that always made your stomach flip. “Do you think that everything I said last night was just the alcohol?”
“Wasn’t it?” you countered, finally meeting his gaze, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. “You were wasted, Junmyeon. You said... you said things that don’t exactly fit our rivalry.”
Junmyeon rested both hands on the kitchen counter; now you seemed even more trapped between his body and the counter. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could smell his cologne. He didn’t look like he was joking. In fact, he looked more serious than ever.
“I might have been wasted, but I wasn’t lying,” he murmured.
“Oh… c’mon. You don’t even remember. Why are you so sure?” you said quickly, clinging to the lie as a shield.
Junmyeon sighed, looking down for a second and then back at you with a genuine, confused furrow in his brow as if he were trying hard not to lose his patience. “I-I remember telling you that you’re the only one on the team who actually keeps me work on it.” He let out a short, dry breath of a laugh. “That’s not nonsense.”
“No, not that,” you said, your voice dropping as you glanced toward the door to make sure no one was coming in for their morning caffeine fix. “I mean... after that. Right before you fell asleep.”
He stopped mid-motion. He looked truly lost, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t... I thought I fell asleep right after we talked about it.”
You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. You shifted your weight, crossing your arms over your chest and looking anywhere but at him. You tried to force a light, mocking laugh, but it came out sounding brittle. You reached up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you couldn’t suppress.
“God… it was so ridiculous,” you said, trying to regain your footing as his rival. “You were practically snoring, and then you mumbled that you ‘really liked me.’ Like... really liked me.” You shook your head, forcing another awkward laugh. “I mean, can you imagine? The whiskey really hit you.”
You waited for him to join in. You waited for the sharp, arrogant retort, for him to call you a liar or tell you that you were hallucinating his affection.
But he didn’t laugh.
Junmyeon didn’t move. He stood there with his hand still on the counter, his expression completely unreadable. The usual spark of competition in his eyes had been replaced by something different.
“Why…” he asked, his voice low and disturbingly calm, “is that so ridiculous to you?”
Instinctively, you managed to get away from him, your smile fading, your heels clicking against the linoleum as you tried to maintain some semblance of a professional gap. The air in the break room was suffocatingly small. Every time he stepped forward, you felt your resolve—and your heartbeat—fracturing.
“Junmyeon, stop,” you hissed, your voice a sharp, panicked whisper as you glanced frantically at the glass door. “We’re in the office. Someone could walk in at any second. You-you’re acting weird. Get it together.”
But Junmyeon didn’t pull back. Instead, he stepped directly into your personal space, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “Acting weird?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerously steady. “I asked you a question. Why is it so impossible to believe that I like you?”
“Because we’re us!” you whispered back, your hands shaking as you tried to step back, failing completely. “We compete for everything. We... sabotage each other’s meetings. You don’t just... you don’t ‘really like’ your biggest headache, Junmyeon. It was the whiskey. You were drunk, and I was tired, and we… we need to just move on.”
“The whiskey just made it easier to say out loud,” he countered, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before snapping back to your eyes. Junmyeon looked frustrated, his usual composure replaced by a raw, stubborn honesty that terrified you. “Do you really think I’d let anyone else talk to me the way you do? Do you think I’d spend my nights with someone I just compete with?”
“Stop it,” you breathed, feeling your back hit the cold surface of the refrigerator. “Someone’s gonna hear you.”
“Let them,” he muttered, though he lowered his voice even further, leaning in until his breath was warm against your forehead. “Maybe I’m too tired to pretend. I said what I said because it’s true. I like the rivalry, but I like you even more. And the fact that you ran away this morning tells me you’re either scared, or… you feel the exact same way.”
“Shut up!” you hissed, your voice trembling. “I’m not—”
“Then stop running!” he challenged, his hand hovering near your waist, not touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t feel anything.”
You opened your mouth to give him a sharp, sarcastic retort, but the words died in your throat.
“Look…” he breathed, looking up at the ceiling, a piece of furniture, your mug, anywhere, as if he were trying to clear his mind before continuing. “I know.” He finally met your anxious gaze. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I get it.” his head tilted, your foreheads touching as he closed his eyes in a gesture of total surrender. “But… please. Don’t walk away.”
“Junmyeon…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You closed your eyes just like he did, trying to find the strength to step back. “Stop.”
When you felt one of his hands on your waist and his lips on yours, you gasped in surprise. Your rational side was screaming at you to push him away, to shove him off, and to get out of there as soon as possible, but that something inside you completely betrayed you. Your hands clenched into fists in front of his chest, however, your lips moved with the same intensity as his.
“Stop…” you whispered against his lips, feeling a huge lump in your throat. “Please.”
Junmyeon slowly pulled away from your lips as if doing so caused him physical pain. When you met his gaze, he seemed just as vulnerable as he had on those nights you spent together.
“We need to stop,” you finally snapped, your eyes fixed on his chest, incapable of looking directly at his eyes. “For good.”
“What?” He sounded genuinely panicked. “Yeah… yeah. I know. We-we’re in the office, but—”
“No, Junmyeon,” you breathed and swallowed hard. With what remained of your strength, you pushed him away. You needed to get away quickly, before anyone saw you—or worse yet... before he made you change your mind. “Whatever this was… it’s over.”
“Wait—” His voice came out as a trembling whisper, trying to grab the sleeve of your blazer in an attempt to stop you. “We can talk about it. I told you you don’t have to feel the same. I…” You could feel him clinging to the fabric of your clothes, while you were incapable of even looking at him. “Let’s talk later, yes? Just listen—”
“Junmyeon, please. Don’t do that,” you whispered, looking at his fist gripping your sleeve. “We had fun, yeah. But we both know this isn’t right. I don’t—”
“Then use me,” he blurted out, catching you off guard.
Stunned, your eyes met his again, unable to believe what he’d said. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Yes!” Junmyeon was desperate. He took your hands, begging you to understand what he was about to say. “Listen... I won’t say it again if my feelings make you uncomfortable. But I don’t want this to end. You’re right, we’ve been having fun, and we can keep doing this for as long as we want... as long as you want.” He let out an anxious laugh. “Fuck—I need you. I-I...”
The sound of muffled laughter and footsteps echoed from the hallway, growing louder by the second. The panic in your chest flared, a sharp reminder of where you were. To you, those voices were a lifeline; to him, they were a distraction from the truth he was trying to force you to face.
“Junmyeon, stop. This is insane,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of adrenaline and fear. “Whatever this is, it’s over. It has to be.”
His eyes widened, the raw honesty in them replaced by a flash of genuine hurt. “You don’t mean that. You’re just panicked because—”
“I do mean it,” you cut him off, your words sharp and cold, designed to be a killing blow to the tension between you. “It was a game, and it went too far. Last night was the limit. I can’t do this anymore.”
Junmyeon opened his mouth to argue, his hand moving as if to catch yours, calling your name to keep you grounded in that corner with him. “Sweetheart—”
“No!” you hissed, backing away. “We’re done.”
The door swung open, and two analysts from the marketing team strolled in, mid-conversation about a project. The shift in the room was instantaneous. You smoothed your blazer with shaking hands, schooling your expression into one of professional indifference, while Junmyeon froze.
He didn’t turn around immediately. He stayed facing the refrigerator for a fraction of a second too long, his shoulders tense, his head bowed. When he finally did turn, he looked like always—stiff, cold, and untouchable—but his eyes stayed locked on you, clouded with a silent, devastating realization.
“Good morning!” one of the analysts chirped, heading for the microwave.
“Morning,” you replied, your voice remarkably steady despite the weight in your chest. You didn’t look at Junmyeon again. You didn’t dare to.
You walked out of the break room without looking back. You had to protect your career, your reputation, and your heart. But as you walked down the hall, it felt hollow, and the image of Junmyeon looking defeated in his own domain was the only thing you could see.
“Hey! I was looking for you. I need your help.” Sora appeared out of nowhere to snap you out of your trance, taking you by your cold hand and leading you over to her desk. “Were you in there? Ugh, I bet he was bothering you again, wasn’t he?”
You grimaced, trying to look indifferent. “It’s nothing… just tell me, did you need my help?”
“Oh—yes!”
Every time you walked into the office, and he was there, your facade of professionalism never faltered. But the weight of Junmyeon’s gaze was a physical pressure against your back.
He wasn’t playing the game anymore. He didn’t sabotage your files or tease you in meetings. Instead, he watched you with a quiet, persistent intensity that made your skin crawl with guilt.
By Thursday afternoon, the stress had manifested into a blinding migraine. The fluorescent lights felt like needles behind your eyes, and the hum of the office was a dull roar.
You were slumped at your desk, head in your hands, when you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder.
“Hey,” Hana whispered, her voice laced with concern. She slid a bottle of water and two extra-strength painkillers onto your desk. “You’ve been really tense. What’s going on?”
“There’s something about this report that doesn’t add up.” There was some truth to your words, but you knew that wasn’t the main problem.
“Let me check—uh, Kim sent that? Go ask him,” she suggested the most obvious solution. “Hey, Junmyeon. C’mere!”
“Hana!” you hissed, trying to stop her, but it was too late.
The split second their eyes met was enough to realize that he was completely distracted, as if he’d been lost in his own thoughts.
“Y-yeah.” Junmyeon awkwardly got up from his desk and walked over to yours.
Hana, sensing the awkwardness of the situation, tried to step in, hoping that this would help you solve your problem. “Don’t be a dumbass and help her. I’m watching,” She gestured with her fingers, indicating that she would return to her cubicle but would remain alert.
Junmyeon just nodded in her direction, swallowed hard, and dared to ask: “What happened?”
“Did you check this before sending it to me?” You avoided his gaze at all costs; his eyes remained fixed on your monitor.
“Uh… yes?”
You sighed. “It doesn’t look like it.” Your trembling finger rested on the screen, right where the error seemed to be. “This is last week’s measurement. You didn’t even bother to update it, and you ruined the whole thing,” you said, trying to sound confident enough. “I doubt this week’s figure will still be the same.”
“Shit... I’m sorry. I’ll check it and send it back to you right away,” he apologized, trying not to make the situation worse. “Just give me a minute—”
“Don’t let this happen again, or don’t bother sending it back to me.”
His face seemed blank. Incapable of saying anything else, he just nodded before disappearing back to his desk.
Hana seemed just as surprised by your attitude as Junmyeon, approaching you again warily. “Christ… if you’d said that to me, I probably would’ve run off to the bathroom to cry.” She let out a soft, nervous chuckle. “Sometimes you really scare me.”
A sharp pain came over your chest—perhaps from anxiety, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from heartache. “Sorry you had to see that… I-I think I’m just too tired.”
Chanyeol was mid-laugh, telling a story about a botched client meeting, but he stopped when he looked over at Junmyeon. He sat slumped in the corner of a leather booth, his tie loosened and his gaze fixed on the condensation sliding down his glass. Even when he was there, drinking with his friends on Tuesday night, he looked… sad.
“Okay,” Minho said, setting his drink down and leaning forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by concern. “You’ve been staring at that ice cube for an hour. What happened? Work?”
“No,” Junmyeon muttered, taking a heavy swallow of whiskey. “Everything is fine.”
“Liar!” Chanyeol chirped, his sharp eyes catching the way Junmyeon’s hand instinctively twitched toward his phone on the table. “You’ve checked your notifications sixteen times. That’s not work, Minho. That’s a girl.”
But Junmyeon didn’t even snap back with his usual quick-witted defense. He just sighed, the sound heavy with defeat.
“Yeah…” Junmyeon said, his voice barely a whisper, thick with the alcohol and the weight of your rejection in the break room. “Whatever it was... she said it was over.”
Minho exchanged a look with Chanyeol. They had never seen Junmyeon like this. Usually, he was the one in control, the one holding all the cards.
“Who is she?” Chanyeol asked, genuinely curious.
“Doesn’t matter,” Junmyeon replied. “I think I lost her because I was too honest when I was drunk.”
As the night went on and the glasses emptied, Junmyeon’s professional wall crumbled completely. He wasn’t his usual self anymore; he was just a man who missed you. Under the table, out of sight of his friends’ eyes, his thumbs were flying across the screen.
Junmyeon didn’t hear them. He was just watching as every message he sent went undelivered—noticing he was blocked in your contact list.
He signaled the waiter for another refill, and then another, downing the amber liquid. He were trying to drown the memory of the way you’d looked at him—that cold, professional mask you’d donned to shut him out.
“Easy there, Champ,” Minho said, reaching out to steady Junmyeon’s glass. “It isn’t going anywhere.”
Junmyeon didn’t even look up. He just shook his head, his hair falling over his forehead in a way that was far too messy, even for him. “Every time I close my eyes,” he muttered, his voice trailing off. “I hear her telling me it was a mistake. God! It’s driving me crazy.”
Chanyeol leaned back, crossed his arms, and watched his friend with a mixture of pity and fascination. “You’ve really met your match, haven’t you? She must be something special to have you unraveling like this.”
“She’s a nightmare,” Junmyeon rambled, his head dropping back against the leather cushion. He started laughing, a dry, bitter sound that made the others go quiet. “She’s the most stubborn, frustrating, brilliant person I’ve ever met. She is… so beautiful. And I... I thought we had something real.”
“So tell her that,” Minho urged. “Call her.”
“I did! I sent a message. She’s ignoring me,” Junmyeon said, gesturing wildly with his phone.
“Ignoring you? Did she block you or…?” Chanyeol raised an eyebrow curiously. When he saw Junmyeon’s reaction, he knew he’d messed up, and Minho gave him a light smack. “Sorry…”
“She’s scared. She thinks if she lets me in, she loses it. But I-I just want to—” He cut himself off, his face flushing a deeper red as the alcohol stripped away his last filter.
“You want to what?” Chanyeol prodded, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I wanna tell her that I’d give up on everything if she’d give me a chance,” Junmyeon confessed, his voice cracking. He looked at his friends, his eyes glazed and vulnerable. “Is that pathetic? God—I feel so pathetic.”
They realized then that this wasn’t just a crush; Junmyeon was genuinely, deeply lost in someone who was his equal in every way.
“You’re not pathetic, man,” Minho said softly, sliding a glass of water toward him. “Well… maybe just a little.”
“He’s right...” Chanyeol added, tapping his glass.
“Aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”
“Okay, okay! That’s not the point. You’re just in over your head. Maybe you need to stop acting like you and start acting like this,” Minho suggested.
Junmyeon stared at the water, then back at his phone. He began typing another message with shaky fingers.
“Did she answer?” Minho asked a minute later.
“No…” Junmyeon let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head. He took another slow, deliberate sip of his drink. “But I get it. She’s scared,” he whispered, his thumb ghosting over his phone screen again. “She doesn’t realize that I’m not trying to take anything from her. I just wanna be there.”
“You sound like you’re talking about a war, not a relationship,” Chanyeol pointed out, raising an eyebrow.
Junmyeon emptied his glass again, the ice clinking loudly in the silence. “It is a war.” He was rambling now, his words slurring just enough to make his friends worry, but he never slipped. “I finally lowered my guard, and she used that moment to walk away. Now I’m just standing... waiting...”
Chanyeol leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he watched Junmyeon’s thumb hover over the phone screen for the hundredth time. “You know…” he started, his voice dropping to a suspicious, low tone. “The way you’re describing this girl—stubborn, sharp, always trying to get one over on you... it almost sounds like… well, y’know...”
Junmyeon’s heart nearly skipped a beat when he heard your name. For a split second, his mask completely shattered, but he covered it with a sudden, sharp burst of laughter that sounded a little too forced.
Minho let out a loud, scoffing laugh, slapping Chanyeol on the back so hard he jolted. “Man, the whiskey has finally rotted your brain. Have you actually seen them together?”
“I’m just saying, the ‘war’ thing fit—” Chanyeol started to defend himself, but Minho cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“They can’t even be in the same elevator,” Minho said, turning back to Junmyeon with a grin. “I saw them in the lobby last week. She looked like she wanted to staple his tie to the wall, and he looked like he was ready to fire her into the sun.”
Junmyeon looked down at his empty glass, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips—because of the irony. He nodded slowly, leaning back into the shadows of the booth to hide the way his eyes softened.
“See?” Minho chimed in, pointing a finger at Chanyeol. “Junmyeon wants someone who’s actually nice to him. Not someone who spends her lunch break figuring out how to sabotage his next presentation.”
“I guess you’re right,” Chanyeol muttered, looking slightly disappointed that his theory had been shot down. “I just thought maybe the hate was covering something else up. It happens in the movies all the time.”
“This isn’t a movie, Yeol,” Junmyeon murmured. “In real life, when someone says it’s over, you’re just left sitting in a bar with two idiots who don’t know when to stop talking.”
“Hey!” Minho shouted, laughing as he signaled for another round.
Junmyeon joined in the laughter, but under the table, his grip on his phone tightened. As he listened to his friends mock the idea of you two ever being together, the weight of the lie—and the silence from your side—felt heavier than the whiskey in his hand.
Chanyeol leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he swirled his drink. “If she’s that incredible, stop being a hoarder and invite her next time. Bring her next Saturday.”
Junmyeon’s expression shifted instantly, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated offense. He looked at Chanyeol as if the man had just suggested he sell his soul for a discount coupon.
“Invite her?” Junmyeon repeated, his voice dropping into a protective, territorial growl. “To meet you? Absolutely not!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Minho asked, feigning hurt while clutching his chest.
“It means you’re both idiots,” Junmyeon snapped, though a small, lopsided smile played on his lips from the alcohol. “She has a very low tolerance for nonsense. You two would spend thirty minutes talking about gym stats and bad puns, and you’d scare my girl away before I even got her to sit down.”
Minho let out a bark of laughter that drew eyes from the other tables. “My girl? Did you hear that, Chanyeol? ‘My girl.’ Oh, you are so down bad—you’re drowning!”
“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” Junmyeon muttered, his ears turning a bright, tell-tale shade of pink as he tried to hide behind his glass.
“Oh, you meant it exactly like that,” Chanyeol teased, leaning in and poking Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Look at him! He’s pouting because we called him out. Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Do-Emotions’ is over here writing invisible poetry about his girl who’s ‘too good’ for his best friends.”
“She is too good for you two,” Junmyeon defended, though he was failing to keep a straight face.
“What then? Should we bow when she walks in?” Minho continued, relentless now. “Bet she has him on a leash and he loves it.”
“Shut up,” Junmyeon groaned, burying his face in his hands as his friends erupted into a fresh wave of mockery.
“I bet he has a special ringtone for her,” Chanyeol whispered loudly to Minho. “Probably something soft and romantic.”
Junmyeon just sat there; he played the part of the annoyed friend perfectly while his friend laughed at his face, but inside, he just wanted to be with you.
By the time the taxi dropped him off, the cool night air had sharpened his focus, but the whiskey was still humming in his veins, fueling a reckless sort of hope.
Junmyeon didn’t go to his own door. Instead, he found himself standing in the hallway of your common floor, staring at the dark wood of your apartment door. His hand hovered inches from the surface, his knuckles itching to knock. It was far too late.
I shouldn’t, he thought, his heart thumping a heavy rhythm against his ribs. If I wake her up now, I’ll just prove her right.
He stayed there for a long minute, leaning his forehead against the cool frame of your door, whispering a silent apology to the silence on the other side. “Tomorrow,” he breathed. “I’ll make it right tomorrow.”
The walk to his bed seemed to take forever; his head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. Junmyeon clumsily grabbed his phone and looked for your chat again. You hadn’t read any messages, of course—he was still blocked.
“It’s me again,” he muttered, tapping the voice message button. “Can we talk… please?” He sent it, but he didn’t seem convinced, so he continued: “Baby… I know I was wrong. I screwed up. But I need you to listen to me. Just this once, I promise. After that… you decide, please.”
Junmyeon threw himself onto the bed, taking off his glasses, exhausted, angry at himself for being such an idiot. He brought his hands to his face, wondering if that was enough, but he didn’t think so.
He rolled over onto his stomach to grab his phone again and sent another voice message:
“I’m such an idiot… I-I know I deserve your anger for not remembering what I said… for not saying it when I was sober, for not telling you to your face. God… I’m going crazy. I miss you, I want you… with me,” he sighed, his breath trembling. “I miss you… I miss you so much,” he whispered. “Don’t hate me, please… okay? I promise I’ll be better next time… if you give me a chance. Just one. Please, baby…”
“Okay, spill it,” Minji said, leaning across the table and ignoring her drink. She had been watching you like a hawk all night. “What’s going on in that head?”
By Friday, the neon lights of the lounge reflected off the cocktail glasses, but the vibrant atmosphere couldn’t quite pierce the fog in your head. Hana was the one who had finally dragged you out, insisting that it was girls’ night, while Sora spent the first twenty minutes of the night trying to find you a match on a dating app just to see you smile.
“It was a rough week, that’s all,” you said, your voice steady but your eyes fixed on your glass.
Sora rolled her eyes, clearly not buying the excuse. “Since when do you get a migraine over that? You usually live for that!”
“And Hana already told us you almost killed Kim Junmyeon yesterday,” Minji added, raising his drink as a sign of approval.
“Uh… it wasn’t like that—”
“It wasn’t?” Hana interrupted you. “Girl, you were this close to breaking his neck.” She gestured the distance with her hands.
“It’d have been funny to see that.” Minji couldn’t help but laugh as she imagined the situation. “Bet he used his free weekend pass today because of that.”
“Agree! But… if this rivalry turned into something personal—or if he said something that actually hurt your feelings—you can tell us,” Sora added.
“He didn’t hurt my feelings,” you snapped, a little too quickly. You caught yourself and took a slow sip of your drink. “I’m just stressed. Can we please talk about something else? Like Sora’s disastrous date?”
The girls took the bait, pivoting to laugh at Sora’s story, but you felt the weight of the lie sitting heavy in your stomach. You felt like a hypocrite. You were sitting with your best friends, pretending everything was normal, while you felt like a fool for thinking that you could just “switch off” your feelings.
The worst part was every time the screen on your phone flashed with a new notification, you felt a sharp, involuntary jolt in your chest. You’d reach for it with a speed that was far from casual, only to find a generic news update or an email. The disappointment that followed was a cold, hollow weight—one you were trying desperately to hide.
When it happened for the third time, you flipped the phone face-down on the velvet table a little too forcefully, remembering that, ever since the talk, you had decided to block him.
Minji didn’t say anything at first. She just watched the phone, then slowly lifted her gaze to yours, her eyes narrowing behind the rim of her glass. She wasn’t laughing along with Sora and Hana anymore.
“You’re waiting for a who,” Minji said quietly, her voice cutting through the ambient noise.
“What?” you asked, trying to sound confused as you reached for a fry you didn’t actually want.
“The phone,” she countered, gesturing to the device. “If it was work, you’d be annoyed. You’d be rolling your eyes and complaining about your inbox. But you’re jumping like a cat every time it vibrates. You’re looking for a name.”
Sora and Hana stopped talking, their attention snapping back to you. “Wait, is there a guy?” Hana gasped, leaning in.
“Is that why you’ve been so weird? Is it someone we know?” Sora joined.
“Girls—!”
“Wait, I bet it’s that guy from the logistics team,” Sora said, her eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. “The one with the dimples who was helping you with the inventory sheets the other day. What was his name—Yixing! He was totally hovering!”
“Logistics?” Hana chimed in, leaning over the table. “No way, he’s too nerdy. I think it’s that consultant who was here for the audit. Doh Kyungsoo? He had that ‘I’m smart, and I know it’ vibe that usually makes you want to either fight someone or go to dinner with them.”
You let out a genuine, startled laugh, the absurdity of their guesses finally breaking through the heavy fog in your chest. “Yixing? The guy who spent twenty minutes explaining the difference between ‘shipping’ and ‘handling’? No. Definitely not him. And the consultant? No, no, no.”
“Oh, come on! Then who?” Minji teased, though she was smiling now, glad to see the tension leaving your shoulders.
“I am not waiting for any guy,” you said, shaking your head as you took a sip of your drink, the laughter bubbling up again. “You guys are literally inventing a whole story in your heads. It’s not anyone. I’m just... I’m just being high-strung. You know how I get.”
As the three of them went off on an even more ridiculous target—speculating if you were secretly dating a rival from a different firm entirely—you leaned back in the booth, the smile still lingering on your lips.
Inside, however, your mind was reeling. You watched them laugh and felt a wave of bittersweet irony wash over you. If only you knew, you thought, watching Hana act out a dramatic scene of you being “wooed” by a delivery driver.
“You’re so weird tonight,” Sora laughed, nudging your arm. “But it’s good to see you laughing. For a second there, I thought you were actually gonna cry over a spreadsheet.”
“Never,” you promised, clinking your glass against hers. “Spreadsheets are reliable. People are the problem.”
The laughter continued, and for a few hours, you let yourself be “one of the girls” again, hiding the truth behind a mask of shared jokes and absurd theories. You let them believe you were just being dumb for a night, even if the silence of your phone in your pocket felt heavier than ever.
The night went on, and you completely lost track of how many drinks you’d had. Sora was so drunk that she herself suggested ending the night there, so you all agreed. While they called a taxi, you said you’d go to the restroom first.
Sitting in the cubicle, you checked his chat again; your curiosity got the better of you, and you simply unblocked Junmyeon from your contact list. Within seconds, the messages started coming in. Twenty messages from the night before, including three voice messages—the last one nearly seven minutes long.
You giggled as you read them one by one—each one less coherent and later than the last. He’d clearly sent the audios while drunk, falling asleep in the process. In the haze of the alcohol, your pride felt small, invisible, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit the call button.
One ring. Two. Three. Your heart was drumming against your ribs.
From the other side of the line, the room was dark, the only light coming from the rhythmic glow of his phone vibrating somewhere deep in the folds of his duvet. Junmyeon groaned, his body feeling like lead after the two-hour run and the day’s emotional exhaustion. He’d fallen asleep with his clothes on after a quick shower, waiting for the sound of your footsteps in the hall—a sound that never came.
Junmyeon fumbled blindly, his fingers brushing against cold pillows until they finally closed around the device. He didn’t even check the caller ID; he just swiped the screen with eyes closed and pressed the phone to his ear, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
“Hmm—hello?” Junmyeon’s voice came through, thick and rough with sleep.
“Why aren’t you here?” you blurted out, a giddy, reckless laugh bubbling up. “You said you wanted me, but... you aren’t even trying.”
There was a brief, heavy silence on the other end as he processed the voice waking him at 2:14 AM. Then, you heard the rustle of sheets and his voice sharpened, suddenly alert. “You—are you—where are you right now? Are you alone? Have you been drinking?”
“Yeees! Enough to know you’re being boring, Kim,” you teased, stumbling awkwardly within those four narrow walls. “Were you dreaming about me?” you purred and giggled.
“Damn it… stay exactly where you are,” Junmyeon commanded, his voice dropping into that authoritative tone that usually made you want to argue, but now just made you feel safe. “Don’t move. Give me the address. I’m coming to get you.”
“Hmm, no. Maybe I don’t want to be gotten,” you whispered, smiling like a fool at the door.
“Too bad. You called me. Now give me the address. Now.”
“Rude. I liked it.” You giggled, and then whispered the name of the lounge. “I might have only called because I have a secret for you. But maybe you’re too tired to hear it.”
“Tell me. Don’t hang up. I’m on my way,” he said at full speed.
Junmyeon didn’t even look in the mirror. He grabbed a wrinkled hoodie from the chair and his keys, bolting out the door with a desperate energy. The elevator felt like it was moving in slow motion, every second ticking by like a hammer against his skull.
“Hmm, no, no, no. Secrets don’t work like that!” A new notification suddenly popped up on your phone, warning that the battery was running low. “Shit. My phone’s about to die.”
Junmyeon threw himself into the driver’s seat. He peeled out of the garage, the tires screeching against the concrete as he fishtailed onto the main road. “Wait! Don’t—”
“See you later! Bye!” You hung up before he could say another word.
When you stepped back toward the street, looking for your friends, your expression had completely shifted. The haunted look was gone, replaced by a soft, secretive glow that you couldn’t suppress.
Minji was the first to notice. She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she looked at your face. Sora and Hana followed her gaze, their intoxicated confusion momentarily replaced by sharp curiosity.
“Oh—who was that?” Minji asked, her voice suspiciously sober for someone who’d had four mojitos.
“My uber. Just a friend,” you lied, though the curve of your lips betrayed you. “He’s... he’s in the neighborhood. He’s going to make sure I get home safe. You guys go ahead in the taxi.”
“A friend?” Hana squealed, clutching your arm. “At 2:00 AM? You are so busted! Who is that friend, huh?”
“Go on, get in the car!” you laughed, gently pushing them toward the yellow taxi that had just pulled up.
“Oh, no, no!” the three of them stopped you immediately. Even in the condition they were in, they wouldn’t just leave you alone there.
“I swear he’s already here! Just go!”
“No way!” Hana protested, grabbing your sleeve. “We are not leaving you on a dark street corner at 2:00 AM waiting for some mystery guy. We’re staying until we see the car!”
“I know him! It’s very safe!” you laughed, trying to gently shove them toward the taxi that was idling at the curb. “I’m a grown woman; I can handle a ride home. Plus, if you stay, you’ll just embarrass me by trying to interview him.”
“We will interview him,” Sora chirped, giggling. “I wanna know if he has a five-star rating.”
“Go!” you hissed, half-laughing and half-panicking as you saw a pair of headlights turning the corner—a car that definitely didn’t have an uber sticker in the window.
Minji looked from you to the approaching car, then back to your flushed, desperate face. A look of knowing dawned on her—she didn’t know who it was, but she knew you were far from being in danger. She finally sighed, grabbing the other two by their coats.
“Fine! But you are telling us everything on Monday,” Minji warned, pulling the protesting Sora and Hana closer to the taxi. “If you don’t text the group chat in twenty minutes, I’m calling the police and your mother!”
“Okay! Bye! See you Monday!” you shouted over your shoulder, already moving.
The plan to sneak away clearly failed spectacularly. Even with their taxi waiting, Minji, Sora, and Hana stayed planted on the sidewalk like a wall of stubborn, tipsy witnesses.
When the sleek black car pulled up and the engine cut, you didn’t even wait for the door to fully open.
Junmyeon stepped out of the car, looking worlds away in his casual hoodie, his face tight with genuine worry. He barely had time to scan the scene for trouble before you were a blur of motion, running toward him and throwing your arms around his torso with a force that nearly knocked him back against the car door.
“What—Are you okay? God, you’re freezing,” he muttered, his hands instinctively unzipping his hoodie and draping it over your shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep you safe, holding you closer. He immediately went into lecture mode, his voice stern but laced with relief. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out this late? You’re barely standing. Why didn’t you call me early? Why would you—”
“You’re not wearing them,” you whined, cutting him off as you pulled back just enough to frame his face with your hands. You began inspecting every inch of him, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones. “Where are your glasses, Junmyeon? I like the glasses.”
He blinked, completely thrown by your sudden change in tone. “I-I was sleeping,” he rasped, his voice softening as he realized exactly how much you’d had drank. He cupped your pouty face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Why didn’t you call me earlier? Why did you let it get this late?”
“I just remember I had to tell a secret,” you whispered, leaning into his touch, your eyes half-closed.
“A secret,” he repeated softly. He leaned down, his heart beating fast against your chest. “Okay. I’m here. Tell me.”
You hugged him again, tighter this time, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips brushing against his ear as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I like you,” you breathed, the confession finally out in the open.
You felt him go rigid for a heartbeat, his breath hitching in his throat. “What?” Junmyeon pulled back just an inch, his eyes wide and searching yours with a look of pure, disbelieving vulnerability. “What did you say…” he whispered, his voice thick and wavering.
“You heard me,” Your voice was small, the alcohol-induced bravery beginning to mix with a raw, honest heat. “God! It’s... it’s so annoying, but I do.”
“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice cracking with a vulnerability you’d never seen. “Please... say it one more time.”
“I like you,” you repeated, your voice a little shaky but certain. “I really, really like you, Junmyeon—don’t look at me like that!”
In Junmyeon’s eyes, you were the most gorgeous person he had ever met. His heart was beating at full speed, feeling like he was still dreaming. He leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss that was soft, sweet, and full of the relief he’d been craving.
He was smiling into the kiss, noticing he wasn’t dreaming anymore. When he pulled back to breathe, you were the one who leaned in again—and again, and again, wrapping your arms around his neck, while he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“You’re so warm,” you giggled, peppering his jaw with tiny, messy kisses. “And I see you’re not mad anymore.”
“I wasn’t mad; I was worried,” he confessed, his forehead resting against yours. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry for acting like that…” you murmured softly before giving him quick kisses against his lips as an apology. “I’m sorry, Junmyeon.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding on his chest, embarrassed.
Junmyeon kissed your temple softly. “It’s okay, love. Everything’s fine. I’m here, you’re here.” He took a breath, smiling. As soon as he glanced at the situation over your shoulder, his expression shifted—his smile turned a bit more mischievous. “I hate to ruin this perfect moment, truly... but I think your friends are currently questioning their entire reality.”
The fog in your brain cleared for a split second. You turned your head and saw Minji, Sora, and Hana still standing by the taxi, their mouths hanging open. They looked like they had just seen a ghost—or worse, their best friend making out with the man she’d hated.
“Oh my god…” You gasped, your cheeks turning a violent shade of red. You let out a small whine of pure embarrassment and smacked Junmyeon’s chest. “Why didn’t you tell me they were still there!”
You tried to bury your face in his chest, but Junmyeon just laughed, a deep, victorious sound that echoed down the street. He didn’t look embarrassed at all; if anything, he looked proud. He kept one arm firmly around your waist and used his free hand to give the girls a polite wave.
“Do you ladies need a ride?” he called out, his voice smooth and perfectly composed. “The taxi seems to be waiting.”
Sora blinked rapidly, looking at Hana, who looked at Minji. They looked like they were trying to decide if the cocktails had been laced with hallucinogens. Without a single word, they scrambled into the back of their taxi with the speed of people fleeing a crime scene. Minji gave you one final, wide-eyed “we are talking about this” look before the door slammed shut and the car sped away.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you groaned into his chest, though you were smiling. “They saw everything! They’re never gonna let me live this down!”
“Let them talk,” Junmyeon said softly, smiling, hiding you in a warm hug.
The morning sun filtered through the cracks of the blinds, casting a soft, golden glow across the bedroom.
When your eyes flickered open, the first thing you registered was the steady, rhythmic rise and fall beneath your cheek. You were completely buried against Junmyeon’s bare chest, the skin-to-skin contact sending an immediate rush of warmth straight to your toes.
For a second, it was just peaceful. And then, the memories of last night hit you like a high-speed train.
Your cheeks instantly burned. A wave of pure, unadulterated embarrassment crashed over you. Desperate to escape reality, you scrambled backward and threw the duvet and sheets completely over your head.
Unfortunately, your sudden, frantic rustling of the blankets completely broke the morning quiet.
Beside you, a low, gravelly morning rumble vibrated through the mattress. Junmyeon stirred, shifting as the blankets were yanked away from him. When you peeked through a tiny gap in the sheets, you saw him blinking sleepily, his dark hair a messy, adorable halo around his face. But the moment his eyes adjusted to the room, a soft, incredibly warm smile broke across his face. He didn’t look annoyed at all; he looked completely enchanted.
As you tried to shrink further into the mattress, you suddenly noticed what you were wearing. It was a dark, oversized t-shirt—the exact same one Junmyeon had been wearing last night. Your mind went entirely blank. The absolute lack of memory only made your face burn hotter.
“Good morning, love,” Junmyeon murmured, his voice thick and deep with sleep. He shifted closer, reaching out a long arm to gently tug at the edge of the duvet you were hoarding. “Hiding from me this early?”
Panicking, you immediately closed your eyes tight, freezing your muscles and trying to force your breathing into a slow, rhythmic pattern.
A soft, amused chuckle echoed from beside you. Junmyeon didn’t buy it for a single second.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his hand resting gently on your hip over the fabric of his shirt. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against the outside of your blanket cocoon. “You’re a brilliant marketing strategist, but you’re a terrible actress.”
You held your breath, refusing to move, determined to commit to the bit even as your heart hammered wildly against your ribs.
“Still asleep, huh?” Junmyeon teased, his voice humming with affection. “That’s a shame. I guess I’ll just have to wait here—”
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Junmyeon reached over, his arm stretching out from under the covers to grab the device. He unlocked the screen, his eyes scanning the display as a look of pure, mischievous delight washed over his face.
“Oh… look at that,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “It’s your friends. They’re demanding to know if you survived the night.”
You froze beneath your blanket cocoon, your eyes flying open in sheer horror.
“They seem really worried,” Junmyeon continued, his thumb hovering over the screen. “As a responsible ally. I’ll just reply for you. Let’s see... ‘Morning girls, I’m completely fine and with my handsome boy—’”
“No! Don’t you dare!”
Panic completely overrode your embarrassment. You burst out of your duvet cocoon like a rocket, lunging across the mattress to snatch the device out of his hand. But Junmyeon, already shifted and sat up against the headboard, was entirely prepared for your counter-attack. He smirked and lifted his arm high in the air, keeping the screen far out of your reach.
In your sheer panic to stop him from typing, you lunged forward, your knees sliding across the tangled sheets until you climbed right over him, ending up sitting squarely on his lap. The sudden shift in gravity brought you face-to-face, your chests nearly pressing together.
Junmyeon’s arms instinctively came up to steady you, his hands resting securely on your waist to make sure you didn’t lose your balance and slide off. His eyes darkened with a sudden, intense warmth, tracking the flush that crept from your cheeks all the way down your neck. With a soft, surrendered chuckle, he lowered his high arm and placed the phone right into your hand.
You blinked, looking down at the screen, only to realize it was just his homescreen. No group chat. No texts.
“You...” you gasped, your fingers tightening around the device before leaving it aside. “This isn’t even my phone!”
“Tactical strategy, love,” he countered softly, his thumbs lazily tracing small circles against your waist, anchoring you to his lap.
You groaned, entirely defeated. With nowhere left to hide, you simply let your posture collapse forward, dropping your forehead against his bare shoulder and burying your face in his neck. “Ugh… I hate you. I actually hate you so much.”
“No, you don’t,” Junmyeon whispered, enjoying every second.
His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him as he sat there, holding you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. He leaned his head sideways, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your burning cheek, then another to the crown of your head, before his fingers gently guided your chin up to meet his lips. The kiss was slow, warm, and filled with a deep, quiet relief that made your heart skip a beat.
When he finally pulled back, still holding you tightly, Junmyeon was looking at you with a smile so bright and genuinely joyful that all your panic completely melted away. “So,” he murmured, “you remember what happened last night.”
“Of course,” you mumbled, a helpless smile finally breaking through as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t remember?” You gave him a quick kiss that made him smile.
“Y’know,” he whispered. “Last night, before you called me, I really thought I’d ruined everything.”
You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “You really thought I wouldn’t call?”
Junmyeon nodded, a little bit embarrassed. “I thought I’d pushed you too far,” he admitted, his expression softening into something raw. “I was ready to come to your door again and stay there until you either talked to me or called security.”
You let out a soft, breathy laugh, hiding your face in his neck. “I’d have probably called security.”
“Sounds like you,” he chuckled, his arm tightening around your waist. “But then you called. When I heard your voice, I just needed to make sure you were okay. I needed to see you.”
“I missed you,” you confessed; the words slipped out of your mouth without you even thinking about it.
The immense happiness was reflected on his face. Junmyeon sighed, a long, contented sound that felt like he was finally letting go of a heavy weight. His arms wrapped around you more tightly, until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you. “I missed you too, gorgeous.”
“You’re gonna suffocate me,” you teased, trying not to laugh. “Kim… let me breathe!”
“Never!” he protested, kissing your temple. “I can’t let you go after you stole my favorite shirt.”
“I stole it?” you asked, raising your voice in surprise—enough to make your cheeks flush again. You looked at him with genuine shock, getting caught with your lack of memories.
“You don’t remember?”
Junmyeon froze for a split second, a low, rumbling chuckle starting deep in his chest. It quickly turned into a full-blown laugh, and he hid his face in your neck, his broad shoulders shaking while you glared at him, your embarrassment skyrocketing by the second.
“What?” you demanded, smacking his bare arm softly. “What did I do, Kim? Tell me!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, finally lifting his head so he could look down at your flushed face.
“So, last night, after we got here, I got you onto the bed to get you some water. But you were completely compromised by whatever you drank. You sat up, looked at me, and decided you wanted to be... very close to me. Like, zero space between us.”
Your eyes widened as a horrible realization began to dawn on you.
“You started taking your own clothes off,” Junmyeon confessed, a completely fond, helpless smirk on his lips. “You were actively discarding the hoodie, your skirt, your blouse, trying to drag me down with you. And as much as I am completely, utterly helpless around you, I am not a monster. I refused to do anything that you wouldn’t fully remember the next morning. So I tried to stop you.”
“Oh my god…” you whispered, pulling the sheets all the way up to your nose, wanting the mattress to open up and swallow you whole.
“But you,” Junmyeon continued, his thumb reaching out to gently tug the sheets down so he could see your burning cheeks, “are a fiercely stubborn woman when you want something. Since I wouldn’t let you take your clothes off, you decided to take mine off instead. You literally grabbed my shirt and yanked it right over my head.”
You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands.
“I didn’t even fight you on it,” he chuckled softly, his voice dropping into that warm, velvet register. “But since you were sitting there in just your underwear, shivering but refusing to admit it, I took my shirt and slid it right over your head to keep you warm. And the funniest part? You didn’t even protest. You looked up at me with these big, sleepy eyes, and mumbled that it was yours now.”
Junmyeon’s gaze softened into pure, unadulterated adoration as he looked at you now, his hand sliding to rest securely on your waist.
“You wrapped your arms around me like a koala and wouldn’t let go,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your chin. “You insisted that you wanted me closer, so when I hugged you, you slept like a baby the entire night.” He smiled, his face inches from yours, enjoying your utterly flustered state. “I didn’t know you could be so needy, love. I loved it.”
You stared at him from behind your hands, your fingers peeking open just enough to see the absolute warmth radiating from his eyes. “I am never, ever drinking tequila again,” you whimpered, your voice muffled. “My reputation is entirely ruined.”
His fingers found your hands just to intertwine them with his, giving you a small peck. “Fuck that,” he whispered. “I just care about you. Tequila or sober, bratty or needy—I want all of it. Every single version of you.”
“Ugh… you’re too romantic for your own good, Kim,” you whispered, a soft, genuine smile breaking across your lips.
“Anything for my girlfriend.” He kissed your knuckles.
Girlfriend.
A massive, overwhelming wave of pure happiness rushed through your chest, so intense it almost made you dizzy—but right on its heels came that stubborn, defensive instinct. You narrowed your eyes, instantly shifting into a full, sulky brat mode. You deliberately crossed your arms, puffing out your chest and leaning back just enough to look down at him.
“Excuse me?” you scoffed, your voice dripping with artificial disdain as you pouted. “Who said I am your girlfriend, Kim?”
Junmyeon didn’t look offended at all. In fact, his smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He absolutely adored it when you got like this. The fiery, sharp-tongued attitude that usually terrified the marketing department was, to him, the most endearing thing in the world. He loved the challenge of you, the way you refused to just bend to his will.
“Oh? Let me see if I can persuade you,” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, dangerously register.
You tilted your head, your lips curving into a daring, deliberate smirk. “Oh, really?” you teased, your voice a playful, sultry challenge. “And how exactly do you plan on convincing me, Kim? Because I’m a very tough negotiator, and so far, your arguments are entirely lacking in—”
You didn’t even get to finish the word.
With a sudden burst of energy, Junmyeon gripped your waist and flipped your positions in one smooth, practiced motion. Before you could even gasp, you were flat on your back against the mattress, and Junmyeon was hovering directly over you, trapping your body beneath his.
“Junmyeon!” you gasped, your sulky facade instantly cracking into a giggle from pure surprise.
“I have plenty of arguments,” he whispered against your skin, smirking.
His fingers slid beneath the fabric of his oversized t-shirt, tracing the sensitive curve of your waist, moving higher, then lower, his palms warm and demanding against your soft skin. He knew exactly where you were ticklish, and exactly how to make you lose your breath. You found yourself half-laughing, half-whining, wriggling beneath him in a useless attempt to escape the delicious torment of his touch.
“Jun—Junmyeon, stop! That’s cheating!” you gasped out between giggles, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned down and began kissing you messily—pecking your burning cheeks, your jawline, the sensitive skin of your neck, and finally smothering your laughter with a deep, chaotic, breathless kiss on your lips.
Any lingering desire to fight him completely vanished. Your arms instinctively reached up to wrap tightly around his neck, pulling him down until his weight was completely crushing you into the soft mattress.
Junmyeon slowly pulled back just an inch, his chest heaving, looking down into your eyes. “I want to do this right,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
You could sense he was nervous, trying to find the right words. “Last night, when I heard you, my entire world clicked into place. I’ve spent the last year pretending that arguing with you was just about work, but the truth is, I was just… desperate for your attention,” he admitted. “You’re the only person who truly sees me. You challenge me, you ground me, you… you even bother me! But that makes me happy. Really happy.” He smiled, looking at you.
His honesty was reflected in his eyes; it seemed as if he were pouring his heart out in the sincerest way. You couldn’t deny that it made your heart flutter. You smiled, stroking his cheek gently, letting him continue.
“I want my life to keep feeling that way. With you.”
“Junmyeon…”
“Will you do me the absolute honor of being my girlfriend?”
You looked up at him, your chest aching with a love so profound it felt completely overwhelming. The playful, sulky brat from a moment ago was completely gone, replaced by a radiant, breathless smile that you couldn’t have hidden if you tried.
You wrapped your arms securely around his neck to pull him down and gave him a peck. “Yes,” you whispered against his lips, your heart hammering happily. “A thousand times, yes, Kim.”
Junmyeon let out a soft, shaky breath of pure relief and closed the distance, burying his smile in a slow, deep kiss that felt like a quiet vow between the two of you.
“But don’t you ever think I’d let you win this month!” you warned as soon as you pulled away from his lips. “That free weekend is mine!”
He chuckled softly, certainly loving that ridiculous rivalry you two had. “I am winning, love. By 5 sales, actually.” He announced with that smirk he showed just when he’s literally over you on the list, trying to end the discussion with another kiss.
“You cheated again!” you fought back, biting his lower lip hard enough to make him growl.
“Hey!” But he wasn’t mad at all; Junmyeon was the happiest man alive, and he really showed it. “You’ll pay for it.”
He leaned down and captured your lips again, effectively cutting you off from your next complaint. His hands explored your skin, leaving your panties aside in a quick move, making you both giggle as your fingertips slid across his back.
“I’m counting on it, Kim.”
a/note: if you've made it this far, let me thank you for taking the time to read this and for loving ewb as much as i do. for various reasons, i was feeling pretty unmotivated and i even thought that the first part would be my last fic for a long time, but receiving such lovely comments really lifted my spirits and motivated me to write again. truly, thank you so much. i love you all <3
summary: y/n tries to heal and get over kyungsoo after he lies to her about his true intentions </3
8.5k words
inspired by an old jungkook drabble by oilblotter that i found!!!!! and u can read here
missed part one?
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” Kyungsoo places a hand on your lower back to let you know. You smile at him, holding the cue upright, and reply with a short and sweet “okay”.
Your eyes linger on his body a little longer, watching it disappear behind the door.
“It’s so cool that you’re okay with all this, Y/N.” Jiho catches your attention. He’s looking at you with a smile. The same friendly smile he used to give you on his shifts at the shop. You missed it.
You wished things had been different. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a geek back in the day. Not that you are any cooler now. He was always nicer with you within the confines of his dad’s shop. In the hallways of high school, he was a lot different. At the time, you never really understood why.
It got a lot worse one day. His attitude shifted completely. Even at his dad’s shop. He began to treat you like everybody else: like you were nothing. You couldn’t understand what you had done wrong. All you knew was that you didn’t feel comfortable shopping at his dad’s store anymore.
“With all what?” You reply as you wait for Hyoseob to shoot.
Hyoseob seems too distracted to do so. He straightens and gives Jiho a warning look.
“Stop. What’re you doing?” He nudges his friend with a worried expression. He ignores him.
“With the bet?” Jiho’s head tilts innocently.
You laugh uncomfortably. “The bet?” The words don’t settle well in your stomach. You stare back at the bathroom door, hoping Kyungsoo would show up and ease the tension.
“Jiho, he’s gonna kill you. Please shut up.” Hyoseob makes it worse, begging Jiho to stop whatever he was about to confess.
“You know he only asked you out because we dared him to sleep with you by the end of the semester, right?”
The polite smile on your face falters as you feel your heart sink from your chest. You think back to the time he approached you. You were skeptical. You were careful. You did the steps to protect yourself from him. And you believed him anyways.
Of course it was all a lie. A guy like Kyungsoo would have never gone for a girl like you.
Your breaths become shorter, desperately gasping for air. Your hand rests on your chest, trying to settle the heaviness.
Hyoseob tries checking on you but you push his arm off you. You can feel your heartbeat through your ears as you try and find your way through the door without passing out.
Once you find the door to fresh air, you walk.
You walk as fast as you can for as long as your legs take you.
You didn’t want Kyungsoo going after you to explain himself. You believed his lie once. Who’s to say you wouldn’t fall for it a second time?
Every single moment repeats itself like a joke in your head. Your first kiss. Your first time driving a manual. Your first date.
Fuck.
The comic book. You halt in your steps and just stand in the middle of the sidewalk. You grab the issue from your tote and stare at it. A tear falls onto the vintage copy. You immediately panic, blotting the wet mark with the end of your top.
You wanted to throw it away, ruin it. Ruin the memory of that fake date.
You can’t find it in you to.
You scoff, “A fucking bet.”
This couldn’t be your life. It can’t be.
Your phone rings in your pocket and you laugh at how predictable this all is. You think of what to say. You want to think of some snappy comeback. Anything to hurt his feelings the way he’s hurt yours. But you can’t come up with any. It doesn’t feel natural to be mean to Kyungsoo.
He made you fall for him, hard, and you didn’t know how to be mean to the person who has shown you nothing but kindness this past month. How could it have been fake?
Reluctantly, you pick up the phone.
“Y/N? Where are you?” He sounds panicked. It hurts to hear your name come from his mouth like this. Was he worried you left or that he lost his chance at winning the bet?
The anger returns at the thought that he wasn’t calling from a place of genuine concern. It makes you lose control over your words. You almost regret it.
“Don’t call. Don’t text. When you see me in class, don’t even look at me. Fuck you, Do Kyungsoo.”
You hang up before he can say anything. You wipe your tears under your glasses before gathering yourself to call your brother. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible.
He answers after a couple rings.
“Hey.” Chanyeol greets you casually with the grave voice he uses when he’s out with friends.
“Hi. Are you busy?” You ask, using all your energy to stop your voice from wavering.
“Kinda. I’m at Myeon’s. What’s up?” You hear him stand up and walk to a quieter area. “You okay?”
“I- Can you pick me up?” You don’t tell him how you are, knowing that if you do, you would break down in tears again.
Chanyeol’s big brother senses were tingling though. He knew something was wrong. You can tell he does by how quickly he agrees.
"I’m Baekhyun’s ride. Is it okay if he’s in the car?” He asks while your patience runs thin.
“I really don’t care. Just come get me.” Your words spew out in frustration.
“Fuck, Y/N. You good? You don’t sound good.” Chanyeol’s concern speaks through the phone.
“No, I’m not.”
Chanyeol hears you loud and clear, grabbing Baekhyun who whines with a red cup in his hand.
“K, we’re coming.”
--------
“Y/N! You look so pretty today. Went on a date with that gu-- Ouchie.” Chanyeol hits Baekhyun when he gets to the end of his sentence. If it isn’t clear to Baekhyun yet, it definitely is now that you’ve started sobbing in the back of Chanyeol’s car.
“Oh no.” Baekhyun gasps.
Chanyeol gives him a pleading look and Baekhyun is hurriedly by your side in the backseat, wrapping an arm around you so you could cry on his chest.
“Did he break up with you? Who was it again? Do you want us to take care of it?” Baekhyun threatens in the softest voice imaginable. If you didn’t listen to the words, you’d think he was simply comforting you.
“It’s not even worth it.” You say in hiccups. You straighten yourself out and move away from his chest. Although it feels nice to be held like this, they’re not the arms you want to be wrapped in.
“Give us his name, Y/N.” Chanyeol chimes in. “We’ll just talk to him.”
You wince – finding it a lot more threatening coming from your brother’s mouth. You all knew what ‘taking care’ and a ‘talk’ meant to guys like Chanyeol and Baekhyun. The first time you ever told them you were being bullied was when you were 7 and they were 8. You were only venting. You didn’t expect them to do anything about it. Chanyeol and Baekhyun have never hurt anyone prior. They can’t even kill spiders without screaming.
They had your classmate in a chokehold, turning purple in front of you, the very next day. You vowed to keep quiet from then on, realizing how insane your brother and pseudo-brother were.
It didn’t stop them from finding out about Jiho though.
You didn’t approve of it. You never told them about Jiho’s sudden cold behaviour towards you. They found it weird that you were ordering your parts online instead of in person and went to ‘talk’ to Jiho.
Jiho didn’t come to school for a week after that.
“No. Really, I’ll be fine. It was just a bad date.” You downplay your hurt, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. “Thank you again for picking me up.”
--------
Chanyeol is extra careful with you these days. He doesn’t pry as much ever since that night.
So it’s weird when he lingers at your door.
He checks on you while you’re studying, entering your room nonchalantly with a protein shake. He shakes it obnoxiously, to your annoyance, and checks himself out in your mirror. You don’t understand why he does this. He has his own mirror.
“I’m trying to study.” You tell him with a flat tone. “Go be annoying elsewhere.”
He doesn’t say anything, choosing to plop on your bed instead. He shakes his shake one more time. You sigh.
“What? Run out of snappy comebacks?”
He has your attention now. He wants something and he wasn’t going to leave until he got it.
“Nah, it’s not fun when you’re moody.” He says with a sarcastic smile. “So... I learned something new the other day.”
“What did you learn?” You indulge in what he has to say, fully turning your chair in his direction. You spin your pen, bored.
“Kyungsoo... Remember him? Used to date the cheerleaders? Hangs out with that Jiho kid?”
Your pen falls to the ground.
Chanyeol watches it fall from your hold and raises an eyebrow.
“He asked to hang out. Thought it was a bit weird considering we haven’t hung out in the past year. But then he mentioned you.” Chanyeol continues, tone becoming serious and almost scary. And he knows you understand where he’s getting at.
Your blood runs cold. Kyungsoo’s an idiot.
“Don’t.” You warn him, heart racing.
“I’m meeting him in,” He checks his watch. “15 minutes. At the park.”
“Chanyeol, please. It’s really not worth it.” You plead. You get flashbacks to that kid turning pale and shudder.
“We’re just going to talk. We’re friends remember? I’m just gonna find out what he wants.” He shrugs and chugs his drink like he’s not threatening to snap his neck. “And then I’ll judge if it’s worth it.”
He gets up from your bed and pats your head patronizingly.
“Don’t worry. I know how much you like him. I’ll be nice.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. Fuck.
You’re stuck in your chair, unable to move from shock. Did you have to warn Kyungsoo? You groan, you really didn’t want to talk to him. Why did he have to be so stupid? He knows what Chanyeol’s capable of.
Really, this was his own fault. What did he think would come out of this? You weren’t going to text him. He dug his own grave.
You pick up your pen and return to your studies. You won’t get involved.
You read the sentence over and over, even taking your glasses off to focus. Your poor pen was being chewed up to bits with how stressed you were being over this. Damn you Kyungsoo.
You quickly get up from your seat and run off to the park.
By the time you got there, Chanyeol was already long gone and you almost sigh in relief thinking that he didn’t go through with it. You’re about to leave when you see a familiar back slumped over the water fountain. Your heart softens at the sight of Kyungsoo scooping water and washing his face.
You suck on your bottom lip, gathering the courage to walk away. He isn’t as bad as you thought he would be. You should walk away.
Seeing him wince at the cool water makes you weak and before you knew it, you were at his side.
You don’t look at him right away, focusing on wetting your sleeve with the running cold water. Your eyes drift to a scratch on his knuckles. You can feel his stare on you - strong and heavy. Your eyes sting knowing that he’s watching you.
Once soaked, you finally look up and your heart breaks at the sight of his face. He was looking at you with a warm expression and a solemn smile on his lips. You felt your lips shiver as you apply your wet sleeve on the scrape at the side of his face. Kyungsoo leans into your touch and shakily places a hand on yours.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” Kyungsoo’s voice was low and apologetic. You can’t bring yourself to believe him. “It was a stupid bet that I forgot about. I fucked up. None of it was fake to me.”
Your watery eyes flicker to his. You watch them soften under your touch. Your heart can’t stand icing him out.
“Why’d you call Chanyeol? Are you an idiot?”
Kyungsoo smiles sadly, “You blocked my number. I needed to talk to you.”
You frown, taking your hand away from his face.
“You knew I’d come here?” You ask, feeling betrayed yet again. Kyungsoo reaches to hold your hand again, but you pull it back instantly. “I should have never come here. All you know how to do is manipulate me.”
“No- That’s not what I-”
Kyungsoo is about to defend himself, but you cut him off.
“I was doing fine without you. Do you know how stupid I feel because of you? I thought you lik- I thought you were my friend. And- and- now you call my brother and pull this act? To what? To get me to pity you? What you did was fucked up, Kyungsoo. I was fine without you!” Your tears fall somewhat endlessly across your cheeks. Your hands are shaking in anger, sadness, frustration when Kyungsoo wraps his arms around you.
You hate this. You hate that your body melts in his hug. You hate that he was the one to break your heart and the only one to be able to mend it.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispers into your hair, holding you so close and clinging onto you for as long as you’ll let him as you sob in his chest.
“Tell me how to fix this. I’ll fix it. Please, Y/N. I’ll fix it.” He pleads, holding the side of your face gently. You shake your head, unable to talk for yourself. “I’ll fix it, Y/N.” He pleads, repeating that sentence like a broken record.
“I don’t trust you, Kyungsoo. You really hurt me. I can’t trust you.” You struggle to say, throat aching from crying.
“Then let me build that trust again. Let me prove it to you, please.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’ll fix it.”
You let him hold you a little longer as you shake your head in his grasp. How could you trust that any of this was real? How could you trust him again?
--------
Despite rejecting him at the park, Kyungsoo is still making it extremely difficult to avoid him. You caught him sitting in your spot before class one day, away from his friends. He had two cups of coffee, leg shaking anxiously. You found a seat in the back, near the exit. You thought it would be enough to hide from him.
The minute the professor started the course. Kyungsoo looked back towards the door and found you staring down at him. It took everything in you to look away and focus on the professor and your laptop. You took your notes as well as possible, but it was hard when you felt the weight of Kyungsoo’s stare on you.
As soon as the class was done, you bolted out of the lecture hall.
You meant it when you said you didn’t want to see him anymore. You knew it was unrealistic, taking the same course and all, but if you could just get through this semester, you would be okay. You convinced yourself you would be.
It was even hard to study in the library now. You were afraid that he’d come find you at any given moment, even though you had found yourself a spot in a hidden corner. He has proven to be persistent. It was only a matter of time til he tried to find you here.
You throw your head back and sigh, closing your book. You’ll just head home and hope your family wasn’t home to make any distracting noise. It was getting late anyways.
Unfortunately, the one time you desperately needed the house to be empty, you found that your parents had just gotten home from their business trip and Chanyeol was doing god knows what in his room by the loud screaming he was making. Your mom squeals in excitement at the sight of you. She hugs you tightly.
“I missed you my lil batgirl.” She squeezes your cheeks like you’re still a little girl. You rarely saw your parents but when you did, you swear you didn’t grow in their eyes. You’re still their youngest daughter who isn’t studying to be an astrophysicist, but the little girl who wanted to grow up to be Barbara Gordon. “Speaking of batgirl, a gentleman dropped these off for you.”
Your mom lets you go, excited to show you what was delivered. You wince when you see the same yellow bouquet he got you on your first date. You had dumped the first one onto the compost pile, letting it rot for the plants.
“I didn’t know you were seeing someone, Y/N! He must really like you if he’s getting you Batman themed bouquets. This is so exciting. Tell me everything. Did you go on a date yet?” She means well. It’s not her fault that she and dad had to work all the time. It’s not like they’ll be home any longer than a couple weeks before they have to go off again. Kyungsoo will probably move on to the next too. You didn’t want them to worry.
So you lie to her.
Kind of.
“Yeah, he’s a guy from my astronomy class.” You tell her, giving her a small smile to make it believable. Your mom gasps at the sound of you finally having a man in your life.
“Oh, I’m so glad! Where did he bring you? What did you guys do?” She grabs a vase and fills it with water, anticipating your response.
“Um, he brought me to brunch.” You realize instantly how hard it is to fake it. Your mom notices the falter in your voice almost immediately - her face scowling at the sound. “And then he, um,” You take a deep breath when you feel your eyes sting. She lets you finish. “brought me to a thrift store and,” tears start falling from your eyes again. She comes to your side and sits you down at the dining table.
“Did something happen?” She transforms into a parent in an instant. “Was it a bad date?”
“No, it was perfect!” You cry out, covering your face in your hands. “He got me a vintage comic book even though he found it first and he got me flowers! Just like those! Even opened and closed the doors. He was the perfect gentleman.”
“Then what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” She moves your hands down so she could look at you, her daughter who has never ever cried to her mom this much.
“He did all of it because of a bet.” Your lips turn upside down into a pout. Your mother’s face mirrors yours and pulls you in for a hug. She doesn’t say anything. Her warmth is enough for you. “Gosh, I feel like I’ve been crying so much lately.”
“It just felt so real. I thought he was actually interested.” You scoff, laughing at yourself yet again at how ridiculous you were to believe him. “I feel so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid. Don’t talk about yourself like that. He seemed very apologetic at the door.” Your mom finally speaks. “Have you talked to him?”
“A bit. Chanyeol punched him and I went to see him.” You fold your lips into your mouth after revealing your brother’s antics.
“Chanyeol what? We’ll get back to that.” She shakes her head. “And then what happened?”
“He kept saying he’ll fix it. But this doesn’t seem fixable to me, mommy. He lied to me.” You explain, pouting at her. Your mom places a warm hand on your cheek.
“Why not? He says he wants to fix it.” She tucks your hair behind your ears and looks at you with compassionate eyes. Your mother was always the optimistic parent. She believed everything and anything was easily fixable. You were a lot like your dad who was the opposite. He believes some things should just be left alone. He says only someone like your mother would be able to fix anything with her passion.
“How could I trust someone like that?” You ask, voice small.
“You said it yourself. It didn’t feel fake. To be honest, he stayed a bit to ask about you. He seemed very genuine.” Of course, your mother wouldn’t understand that your pain was far too great to give him a second chance. “Life isn’t as black and white as you think, Y/N. There’s not always a right and wrong. Sometimes there is gray. And I believe this is the gray area. I know you don’t believe me but think about it. Bruce Wayne himself is a morally gray hero too, you know. You mean to tell me what he’s doing is ethical? He arrests these villains who commit heinous crimes, only for them to escape and do it over again. Doesn’t sound safe for Gotham, in my opinion.”
She gets up and smiles. “Just think about it.” She moves towards the stairs, presumably to knock some sense into Chanyeol for your little slip. “Oh, and I think you’re right. He is a perfect gentleman.”
--------
There were two more courses of ASTRO101 before the final. You could handle being late to classes for 2 more weeks. You try to open the heavy door as quietly as possible. You wince when the door shuts loudly, catching the attention of some students. Your eyes search for Kyungsoo’s but they’re not a part of the looming stares.
You find the same empty spot in the back and squeeze through your peers. You mutter apologies before settling down in the awkward seats of the hall.
“Y/N?” A guy in front of you turns and whispers your name.
“Yeah?” You answer, heart racing again. Last time someone approached you, they were doing it for a bet.
“This is for you. From Kyungsoo.” He grabs a cup of coffee and hands it to you.
You frown. “Oh, you can keep that. I don’t drink coffee.”
He freezes awkwardly, stuck in between accepting the offer and fulfilling his promise.
“I think it’s hot chocolate.” He tries to persuade you to take the beverage from his hands.
You feel bad that he would be stuck with a drink he didn’t want. And you do like hot chocolate. Albeit, you don’t know how hot it actually is, considering you’d deliberately shown up late. He never did anything wrong to you, neither did the hot chocolate. You shouldn’t punish them for Kyungsoo’s wrongdoing.
“Ok.” You grab it with a polite smile. He nods thankfully, happy to get more space on the tiny arm desk. You take a sip and watch a light pink post it fall from the cup.
unblock me please :) - dks
You scoff quietly and stick it in your notebook. Not that you wanted to keep it. You were just going to throw it in the recycling bin, like a good samaritan. Though, you do have to turn the page to cover it when you catch yourself staring at it a few too many times.
The professor prepares to end the lesson. You begin to pack your things and mentally prepare yourself to squeeze by the same people you bothered at the beginning. You mutter quick apologies, holding your bag close to you as not to hit anyone.
Like some cliché, you open the door to reveal Kyungsoo waiting for you on the other side, leaning against a wall with a plastic bag and phone in his hand. He doesn’t realize you’ve come out the door. Not with the way he keeps his eyes on his phone.
You frown and move as swiftly as you can.
The rush of wind catches Kyungsoo’s attention. And it’s too late for you to speed before he’s already by your side.
“Can you slow down a bit? Please?” He has the audacity to ask.
“No.” You try to walk faster but you fail. Kyungsoo was the jock after all.
“I got you ice cream.” He waves the plastic bag your way.
You finally stop walking and look at him, his expression hopeful. You grab the notebook from your backpack and take the sticky note out.
“I don’t want it, Kyungsoo.” You push the plastic bag into his chest along with the tiny pink paper. “The flowers, the hot chocolate, the note, the ice cream. I don’t want any of it. Don’t you understand? You didn’t just hurt my feelings. You deliberately lied to me to win a bet and crushed me. This- Material crap won’t make any of my insecurities go away. I’m not going to immediately start trusting you again after I taste something sweet.”
Kyungsoo reaches out to you, but you flinch and take a step back. You put a hand out to stop him from getting any closer.
“I hate that I let you into my life. I hate that you made me like you. I hate that I can’t even fully hate you for doing this.”
It’s embarrassing yelling at him like this in front of so many people. It’s even more humiliating realizing that you’ve been shedding tears.
“So please, if even an ounce of it was real to you, like you said it was, please understand that this isn’t something you can easily fix with gifts or an apology. I need you to leave me alone.”
“Y/N, I-” He tries again, his eyes becoming watery too. His hand twitches as if he’s trying to stop himself from reaching out to you. You can’t even tell if he’s still playing the game. It all feels so real. But you’re not sure anymore.
“Kyungsoo, please.” You shake your head, lips quivering and cheeks wet. Kyungsoo stands there awkwardly as you plead in front of an audience of judging students’ eyes.
That’s when he takes an assertive step towards you.
You let him take your hand as he puts the bag in your hold. It’s warm and makes your heart calm down just a bit. It’s nice, even for just a second, to have him hold you like this.
“Take this, at least, and I promise I’ll leave you alone after this.” His voice is shaky.
You stare at his hand in yours for a second too long. He’s smiling at you despite his eyes telling – no, screaming at you that he was not okay with leaving you alone. Not at all.
Your heart breaks a bit more than it already has. You lower your hand with the ice cream and Kyungsoo finally lets you go. You swallow nervously and walk away from him.
You wanted to believe that there was gray - that what he did could be forgiven. But your heart was far too weak and would simply not allow it. All you wanted to do was close yourself off, return to who you were before Kyungsoo.
And you couldn’t do that if he was there every single day, reminding you why you fell for him in the first place.
--------
“Um,” Chanyeol interrupts your sulking on the bed. Your face first in your black sheets so when you look up at him, it’s hard to see where you cried. “Me and Baek are going out. Did you want to join us?”
“Not really.” You plop your face back into the pillow.
You had originally been studying for your finals, but evidently, could not focus.
“Come on. Let’s do something. We’ll go wherever you want.” Baekhyun’s voice is loud and bright. Most importantly, convincing. Hanging out with Baekhyun does sound fun. You peek from your pillow to find Baekhyun’s beaming smile. He gives you that knowing look that gets you smiling within seconds.
“Can I drive?” You ask, voice muffled from the pillow.
“No way!”
“Absolutely!”
Baekhyun smiles as he hits Chanyeol. “This is the perfect time to teach her stick!” He exclaims as both you and Chanyeol wince for different reasons. Chanyeol is nervous about his car while you get reminded of your driving lessons with Kyungsoo.
“I’ve been learning.” You mutter, glancing at Chanyeol for a reaction. He doesn’t look impressed, rolling his eyes, but nudging his head towards the door. His cool way of telling you “yeah okay”.
Baekhyun, on the other hand, is ecstatic for you. He doesn’t have a manual but he knows Chanyeol and he knows what a big deal this is for you. Baekhyun himself has only driven it a handful of times. He excitingly waves for you to come quickly, despite not being dressed.
“We’re not going anywhere crazy.” Chanyeol says, wanting to leave the house right away.
As promised, your brothers let you take them to wherever you want to go. Wherever you want turns out to be a board game pub in the city you’ve always wanted to visit but could never find anyone to go with.
“You’re so annoying.” You complain when Chanyeol builds yet another road to block yours, giving him the longest road award.
“And you’re a sore loser.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out as he steals the road card with your 2 points. You roll your eyes and turn to Baekhyun.
“Please tell me you have 2 secret points in your cards.” Your eyes are pleading. If anyone could humble Chanyeol, it’s Baekhyun. His best friend only smiles and shrugs, not giving away anything.
You roll the dice and laugh pitifully when you roll a 7. Normally, you’d steal from Chanyeol but he just used all his resources to build that massive wall of a road.
“Sorry.” You apologize to Baekhyun who can only smile.
“It’s just a game.” He says as you pull a sheep from him.
“I guess I’ll pull a development card.” You exchange the cards for a special one. You groan when you see another knight card.
“Are you done?” Chanyeol smiles teasingly.
“Yes, I’m done, Chanyeol.” You say, bored.
“Okay, I’m going to build 2 roads with my development card. Build a settlement. And I win.” Baekhyun talks you through his winning hand. He steals the road card and reveals the 2 secret victory points. You immediately start laughing at Chanyeol’s face of disbelief. Only Baekhyun is capable of defeating Chanyeol. And oh, did that make you happy.
“I love this game.” You exclaim as you start cleaning up the board game. “Did you guys want to play a different game?”
“Whatever you like, Y/N. We really just wanted to hang out with you.” Baekhyun says for the both of them. It warms your heart that you had brothers like them to come cheer you up like this. You and Chanyeol butt heads most times, but when it counts. He’s there.
“Want another drink?” Chanyeol asks, already over being the loser. You nod, about to get up to join him and maybe look for a different game to play. Baekhyun gently grabs onto your wrist. You turn back, confused.
“I was just gonna find a game.” You tell him, pointing in the direction of the shelf.
“I know. Sit for a sec. I wanna talk to you.” His smile is always so bright and comforting. You forget he holds a black belt in hapkido and has beaten people’s asses before. You return to your seat.
You’re not really sure where Baekhyun is going with this. Your relationship was more of an extended brother, one that would make you crouch so he could practice his jumps. There were never deep-talks at night. Chanyeol and Baekhyun kind of left you alone when you were feeling down. They would ask to hang out to get you smiling again. They would give consequences to those who put you down.
Talking. Talking is new.
“I wanted to ask how you were doing. Chanyeol told me what he did, but other than that. I don’t really know how you’re doing. Clearly, not great.” Baekhyun jokes as the image of you plopped face down on your bed flashes into his mind.
“I’m ok. I told him to leave me alone yesterday.” You purse your lips, doing your best not to pout. Baekhyun leans back, taking a sip of his drink. “And I don’t know. It’s sad. I’m sad. He says he likes me but what if he’s still trying to win the bet. I don’t know. I feel like I should feel lucky that Kyungsoo even ‘wants’ to date someone like me, just accept his apology and ignore this all happened. But I can’t. It’s weird. I feel so weird.”
“’S not weird. It was a really shitty thing to do.” He replies, scoffing to himself at how insane this situation is. “You still like him?”
“Unfortunately.” You sigh, not needing another reminder. It was so easy to fall for him.
“Then wait til after the semester’s over. See if he’s still interested after.” Baekhyun leans closer to the table and places the glass on the coaster. “I promise a guy who actually likes you would not leave you alone that easily.”
“I guess.” You shrug, leaning back against your chair.
You don’t think you have it in you to actually wait 2 weeks for Kyungsoo. You’ll try to move on in the meantime, but there was no harm in seeing if Baekhyun was right.
--------
You don’t know what you were expecting.
Kyungsoo actually leaving you alone did not surprise you, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t a tiny bit disappointed. You did tell him to leave you alone after all. Who were you to be upset that he respected your wishes?
Finals pass in a blur and so did your feelings for Kyungsoo.
It helped that you didn’t see Kyungsoo or his friends this past month, not once. You couldn’t find them in the lecture hall. You scanned every seat for them, and not a single one had Kyungsoo in it. He didn’t surprise you after class with ice cream.
Kyungsoo listened. And you finally felt at peace knowing that you could truly move on.
Now you knew, Kyungsoo was never really serious about his feelings for you. Now you knew, he was just a liar that would have done anything to win a bet.
To congratulate yourself for getting this far, you take yourself out for a self-love date. It doesn’t take long for you to stumble across the thrift store where Kyungsoo found the Spider-Man comic.
You haven’t been since Kyungsoo. You’ve been aching to go since finals ended, but you didn’t have the courage to go til now.
You beeline to the mountains of comics and take a deep breath, eyes shining at the marvel in front of you. You started at one corner, crouching down and flipping through the frail books.
Before you knew it, a pile was growing at your side. Every single time you’d find something interesting, you’d put it aside. You didn’t even care to check for the value on some of them. Today was for you. You didn’t want to think about anything else, just superheroes.
The bell to the front door barely breaks your focus. Not many people have been coming in here today. You don’t pay them any attention.
“I’ll be right with you. I’ll just grab them in the back.” The store clerk says in a giddy tone.
Flip ‘Burn Nightwing Burn!’ You add it to the pile.
Flip ‘Gotham City Sirens’ Hmm, it’s a pretty cover, you think. You add it to the pile.
“Thank you so much for your help.”
You freeze at the unmistakably familiar voice. You crouch even more than you were, attempting to hide. There was no way he knew you were here right now. You shake your head. He hasn’t reached out in a month. He doesn’t like you. You’re over that. You try to remind yourself of the efforts you’ve made and how far you’ve come. You return to what you came here for.
Flip ‘War of the Worlds’ Maybe you’ll pass on these for today.
Flip -
“It’s no worries. You can always go through me if you need to grade anymore. My friend works there so you don’t need to drown in all those fees. Alright?” The clerk says. Grade? What could Kyungsoo be possibly be grading?
Your body straightens as your curiosity rises. Your neck stretches as you try and take a peek at what Kyungsoo bought. You purse your lips when all you see is a box in his arms. Without thinking, your legs follow him out the store, leaving the poor pile of comics on the dusty carpet.
You don’t even know what the plan was. Were you just going to follow him until he turns around and shows you what he got? You didn’t plan on confronting him at all. You never even planned on meeting him at all!
It was supposed to be: get through ASTRO101 and never see him again.
Not get through ASTRO101 and follow him out of the thrift store.
You don’t realize how insane you are until he’s getting into his car, and you stealthily hide in an alleyway, away from his mirrors. You know you’ve completely lost it when you haul a cab soon after and ask him to follow Kyungsoo’s car.
You’ve gone crazy. That must be it. You’ve truly lost your mind. Because there was no way you were making a taxi follow Kyungsoo out of curiosity. It had to be because you were becoming clinically insane.
This must be how Harley Quinn felt following The Joker. Maybe Kyungsoo was your villain origin story.
You shake your head, no, you don’t like him anymore.
You reach for your wallet and pay the driver when he parks the car to the side and waits for you to quit daydreaming.
“Sorry.” You apologize timidly, embarrassed by all of this. Kyungsoo was already out of the car and walking up the stairs to an apartment you assume is his. “You can keep the change.”
You stumble out of the backseat and watch him from below. Your heart races seeing him again. He’s wearing a baseball cap, a white shirt and some cargo pants. It’s so effortless, and yet so cool. You hesitate to go up. You’ve come this far. How could you stop now?
Kyungsoo struggles to open the door with the box in his arm. He turns around and sets it on the floor, catching your curious stare. Busted. You gulp when you think you catch a glimpse of his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.
Your mood sinks when his eyes shift elsewhere. He turns around and unlocks his door instead of acknowledging you. He quickly grabs the box and shuts the door, leaving you agape at the bottom of the stairs.
It was unbelievable. He saw you. He definitely did.
You know you begged him to leave you alone, but a quick wave would have been polite, at the very least.
Your legs irrationally bring you up the stairs. You don’t even know what you’ll say to him. All you know is that you’re upset he’d ignore you like that.
You knock on the door.
He opens it, surprised. Not sure why he’s so surprised, he literally saw you.
“Y/N... Hi.” He says awkwardly.
“Yeah hi. I get that I said to leave me alone. But why would you ignore me like that? You clearly saw me!” You frown. You don’t think you’re yelling, but the way he looks behind him at the other door makes you think you’re being a tad bit loud.
“Come inside. My neighbours will hear you.” He gently places a hand on your arm to get you to come in. You eye the box, still in his hand. You shut the door as he takes off his shoes. You follow, biting your lip nervously. You’ve never been to Kyungsoo’s place before.
You’re right behind him as you climb up more stairs to his place. It’s small, perfect for one person. There’s a living room as soon as you reach the top and the bedroom is right next to it. Your eyes scan to the right to find an office space and some recording equipment. His place is minimal. Not heavily decorated.
It makes the sole box on the floor seem out of place.
“So, you came all this way to yell at me for following orders?” He places the box over the other and crosses his arms, lips dying to curve as he teases you.
“T-They weren’t orders.” You stutter, finding his stance a bit too belittling. “I just think it’s rude that you didn’t even give me a smile back there. You saw me.”
He tilts his head to the side with a sly lift of his lips.
“You wanted to see me smile?” He was enjoying this and you just wanted to go back to the thrift store to bury yourself under the mountains of comics.
“No, wait, that’s not what I meant. I just- You were really rude!” You try to explain. You came marching to him with confidence, and here he was, deteriorating all your efforts with a single smile.
He approaches you, backing you into the stairs with nowhere else to go, except down.
“What’re you even doing here? This is far from your place.” He raises an eyebrow curiously.
“I... was at the thrift store.” You say, feeling caught.
“I was just there.” Kyungsoo says surprisingly. “It’s a coincidence that you’d walk right by my place as soon as I got home. Did you get anything cool?”
He glances at your empty hands. He smirks and takes it upon himself to peek in your tote bag, using a single finger to open the bag a little wider for him. He turns to look at you knowingly. There was not a single comic book in there, just a water bottle and your Batman wallet. “Couldn’t find anything?”
“N-No.” You gulp, his face inches away from yours. His plush lips were right there. It was taking everything in you not to glance at them.
“Did you follow me, Y/N?” He asks, towering over you. You were well under his hat - heels centimeters away from falling off his stairs. He was so close to you. There was no way out.
But you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want out. Not with the way he was looking at you.
You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him, tote bag falling off your shoulder and down the top step. Without hesitation, Kyungsoo places a hand on your lower back and pulls you in closer. His hat bumps into your glasses. Kyungsoo quickly removes it, throwing it on the sofa, before hurriedly returning to your lips.
“It was killing me. Not seeing you anymore.” He admits through breaths. “I really missed you. Did you?”
His eyes search yours for a sign that you did miss him too.
Despite convincing yourself that you moved on, you really haven’t, did you?
“A bit.”
Kyungsoo’s face beams upon hearing your words. He grabs your face and kisses you enthusiastically.
“I’m really sorry again for everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you. None of it was fake-”
You frown and cut him off with a kiss, walking him into the couch. He trips and falls onto the cushion, taken aback.
“I was apologizing.” Kyungsoo blinks in disbelief. He doesn’t seem to mind that much by the way he’s rubbing your denim covered thighs.
“I know. You didn’t change your speech.” You try and suppress the smile growing on your face.
“It’s not a speech! I really feel that way. Yes, I approached you for the wrong reasons, but the bet went out the window the moment I got to know you and spend time with you. Teaching you to drive, getting ice cream, ‘studying’ with you. I didn’t care what we did. I just wanted to spend all of my time with you. How can I make you see that?” Kyungsoo doesn’t stop massaging your side. His eyes are begging you to hear him.
You sigh, tired of all this.
Your heart was exhausted, listening to Kyungsoo, falling for Kyungsoo, beating for Kyungsoo. He made you feel so seen and wanted. Your heart was tired of the never-ending loop of should you or shouldn’t you, wanting to find a way to convince that stubborn mind of yours.
“I think I’m tired of pretending I’m not able to forgive you.” You say lowly. Kyungsoo darts his eyes to your pair expectingly.
“You forgive me?” He’s looking up at you, unable to hide the stupid grin on his face.
“That’s not what I said.” You scoff, returning a small smile. You push your glasses that have fallen a bit lower from the bridge of your nose because of how long you’ve been looking down at Kyungsoo.
His grip suddenly tightens around your thigh, not too tight that it hurts, but enough for you to know you did something to trigger him. You gulp when he tugs you a bit closer so you were standing in between his legs.
“Then what did you mean?” He questions you, stupid grin still visible. It looks like you didn’t upset him. His hands were rubbing your lower back, mindlessly massaging you for an answer. Your mind can’t think when he’s biting his bottom lip and staring up at you so cunningly. “What can I do to make you forgive me? Hm?”
“Can you stop that?” You force his smile down in annoyance with two fingers, making his lips frown like some reverse Joker. “It’s making me nervous.”
You can’t lie though. Being like this with Kyungsoo felt like a dream. You, yourself, could not stop the grin growing on your face.
“It’s hard to forgive you.” You sound like a broken record. You think this conversation isn’t going anywhere, just like the last two talks you had with him.
“Then why did you come here? What do you want from me?” You don’t stop him from rubbing your thighs comfortingly. He doesn’t ask with malice or hurt in his voice. He asks with a complaisant tone.
So you say the one thing your heart’s been begging you to confess.
“I really just want you right now.” It comes out breathier than you intend, not realizing how long you’ve been holding your breath for. Kyungsoo’s smile grows under you.
“Then have me.”
You feel a knot growing in your stomach as you watch his warm gaze scan you. He has your whole body heating up on his lap.
Like a moth to a flame, you lean down to press your lips softly against his. His hands shoot up to encompass your body, running up and down your back.
This didn’t feel real.
Kyungsoo smiles between kisses. His tongue dances with yours, making that knot grow especially heavier. It makes you suddenly aware of how experienced Kyungsoo is and how inept you are.
“I don’t know what to do.” You admit between breaths, resting a hand on his chest. His heart’s racing in the palm of your hand. The privilege of feeling the warm beat of his heart is taken away when he takes a hold of your fingers and brings it to his lips, kissing your palm sweetly.
“I’ll show you.” He says lowly near your ear as he shifts under you. You feel your chest get heavier and you take a deep breath to ease the nerves. Kyungsoo sees this and pauses.
“We can stop. I’m happy just being here with you.”
“No, I want to.” You fold your lips into your mouth, trying to hide how shy you are feeling right now. You play with your hair cluelessly, tucking them behind your ear.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” You confess, avoiding his gaze, still shy.
“Me too.” Kyungsoo chases after your eyes with a smile. He’s looking at you the same way he did before he became the man who played you for a bet. And for now, that’s all you want to remember him by.
“Take these off.” He unbuttons your jeans for you and plays with the waistline until you shimmy it off, leaving you in your underwear. Kyungsoo is unable to hide his smirk when he sees the little yellow bat logo. He rubs your side, looking up at you and making that knot grow inside of you.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” He says before placing a kiss on your inner thigh. You feel your heat pulse when he runs two fingers across your folds. “So warm.”
“Put your leg up for me?” He asks but he’s already moving you the way he wants you to, lifting your inner thigh so that your knee was near his head. You don’t know what to expect, letting him take control of everything. You gasp and grab a hold of his shoulder when he pulls your underwear to the side and laps his tongue on your slit.
“Kyungsoo.” You moan when he brings his face closer to your opening, letting his mouth devour you – sucking and licking you with intensity. Your grip on him tightens, feeling bad that you might be hurting him. You do your best not to hold him too strongly, eyes shutting tightly to compensate. When you thought you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore, he slides a finger inside, slowly fucking you.
“Look at me.” He finally comes up for air. “’s it feel good?”
You nod, using the back of your hand to stifle your moan when he adds a second finger.
“D’you like it?” He tries angling his fingers different ways until he finds the reaction he’s looking for. And when he gets it, the back of your hand isn’t enough to cover that moan.
“Kyungsoo!” You call out his name, unconsciously pushing him away from the overstimulation. He’s stronger than you are though, keeping himself steady as you lose it above him. He continues to hit that spot in you as he devours your cunt with his tongue.
“You’re not looking. I want to remember the first time I make you cum.” His other hand grabs onto yours and places it on his other shoulder – still fucking you with his fingers by the way.
“Just squeeze here. You won’t hurt me.” He tells you before returning his mouth on your body. His eyes are looking up at you, compelling you to hold the eye contact. You can feel him smile as he continues eat you like it’s the last meal he’ll ever get.
Your glasses slide down your nose once again and you almost push them up until Kyungsoo goes faster, sucking and slurping your juices. Your grip tightens on his shoulder and you feel your glasses fall even further.
“Don’t.” Kyungsoo warns when you try to push them back. “The glasses don’t move.”
You immediately come undone, body shaking as Kyungsoo’s fingers fuck you through your orgasm. Your heavy breathing as Kyungsoo takes his fingers out and shows you how wet you got, spreading his fingers to create a web of your juices.
“Well, how was that?”
You can’t help but laugh. You straddle him on the couch and tackle his lips.
“So good.” You smile and finally, push your glasses up.
“Good enough to forgive me?” He tucks a hair behind your ear, eyes shining as he scans your face, glowing in sweat.
“Mhmmm.” You feign thinking.
“Oh, that’s not a good response. Let me try again.”
“Kyungsoo!” You squeal when he flips you on your back and situates his head at your entrance again.
“Gonna make you cum til you forgive me.”
--------
You stay over at Kyungsoo’s, unable to move too much with the throbbing pain between your legs. Kyungsoo hands you a mug with hot chocolate and joins you on the couch, spreading a blanket across you two.
“Is this really your favourite Batman?” Kyungsoo turns to you with a questioning look.
“I know it’s not the coolest, but it reminds me of my childhood. We had the VHS and we would always watch it.” You take a sip of the hot drink before setting it down and resting your head on his shoulder. Snuggling Kyungsoo was a lot warmer. He kisses the top of your head and pulls you in closer.
“Kyungsoo,” You say, tone serious. “Were you really gonna leave me alone?”
He looks down to find you already staring up at him.
“You asked me to.”
“I know... But-”
“It’s what you wanted. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I did.” He continues, cutting you off. “I like you, Y/N. A lot. I don’t want you out of my life, ever, but if letting you go meant you’ll see how much I respect and care for you, then it would have been worth it. I hope I can spend every second together proving that my intentions are true.”
You place a hand on his jaw and reach for his lips, kissing him.
“I really thought you’d keep bugging me. I’m glad you didn’t.” You laugh, turning back to watch the movie.
“And I’m glad you followed me from the comic book store.”
You freeze and slowly turn to him instead.
“I didn’t follow you!” You deny, deny, deny until you feel the blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Yes you did! I saw you get out of that cab!” He laughs at you, squeezing your cheek teasingly.
“I just- What did you have graded?? I didn’t even know they did that there.” You pout.
“Wow, you really did stalk me.” He scoffs, shaking his head disapprovingly.
“I did not!” You shout. “What’s in the box?”
Kyungsoo gulps. You look at him suspiciously, then to the box on the floor.
You quickly get up from the couch, the aching now forgotten from your adrenaline rush, and run to grab the box. You open it and find multiple graded comic books. Not just any. All Batman themed. Some of them weren’t even valuable but he got them graded anyways.
Were these for you?
“Ok, you caught me.” He says, towering over you. “I wanted to build this massive collection for you after our first date to try and win you back but then you told me off and that plan went out the window.”
“You’re welcome to have them if you’re still interested. I was going to sell them if you threw them in my face or something.” Kyungsoo laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“This must have cost a lot...” You scan through the comics in awe. You tear up thinking about him scanning through the dusty piles of comic books, picking ones he thought you’d like then paying to have them graded. If you didn’t forgive him before, you certainly did now.
You drop the box and wrap your arms around him tightly.
“You like me.” You mutter in his chest to yourself, finally feeling convinced.
“I do. I really, really do.” Kyungsoo smiles, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head.
chananyeol bong: psa everything i know about batman is from my dad and a quick google search looool pls forgive me for i am a spiiiiidermayynn girlie!! 🤟🏻fffwwwwttt 🕸️once again i did not review the smut bc i get shy rereading that hahahha :') i hope you guys enjoyed this <3 tysm for reading and giving this story so much love 🥹💖💘💕onto the next one!!!! 🫡
↳ summary: baekhyun clearly likes it when you wear his shirts.
↳ wc: 2.9k
↳ baekhyun x f!reader | established relationship, non-idol au, smut pwp. smut warnings: oral (f!receiving, oh he's drowning in it alright), multiple orgasms, overstimmmm, raw p in v, dirty talk
↳ a/n: ty for requesting @strawbebebeberry! and i'm sorry this took so long, i got a bit of smut burnout and i wanted to make sure this was not only good smut but also captured the vibe of the song correctly. i definitely listened to it on repeat while writing :D anyways i hope you enjoy!
“Is that mine?”
You look down at the old t-shirt you threw on before climbing into bed, the colors slightly faded and the neckline stretched from years of use. “Yeah,” you say without much of a second thought, turning off the lamp. Baekhyun’s face is plunged into darkness, but not before you take in the sight of his expression: lips parted slightly, dark eyes shining with interest and a bit of something unreadable. “Do you want me to change?”
“No,” he says, a little too quickly before recovering smoothly. “You should wear it. It suits you more anyways.”
That’s the end of that, but you notice that he sleeps with his hand firmly resting on your upper thigh.
It doesn’t end there either. Whenever you go to bed you notice how his eyes linger, dragging generously over your body, hovering over the tops of your thighs as they peek out under the hem. You have half a mind to call him out for it, but the truth is you want to see him wriggle a little, make him squirm. So, you wear them more often and even throughout the day, lounging on the couch on your stomach, the hem riding up just barely over the curve of your ass.
You’re not a stranger to Baekhyun’s stares. The thoughtful one when you’ve just said something he wants to remember, the frustrated one where his skin creases ever so slightly between his eyebrows, even the one that you’ve only caught small glimpses of, the way he looks at you with adoration when he thinks you’re not looking. But this… is something else. When you wear his shirts and parade around in them, not so subtly flaunting yourself in front of him, he gives you a new look that you haven’t yet seen. It’s beyond just being turned on (another gaze of his that you’ve gotten quite used to). Instead, it feels like you’re being swallowed whole, burning to a crisp underneath the weight of his stare. It feels magnetic, calling out to you, pulling you in.
But for some reason, Baekhyun, who’s never been shy to reach out and take what he needs, has remained frustratingly still throughout all of your days of teasing.
You simply have to take matters into your own hands.
A just barely innocent enough mirror selfie wearing one of his button-downs, perfectly timed for when he’s stuck at the office working late. You leave several of the buttons undone, the lace of his favorite bra of yours peeking above the fabric.
waiting for u to come home ^-^ <3
He doesn’t answer. At first you think that maybe he’s truly so swamped with work that he hasn’t gotten a chance to see your message, and maybe you should pivot into preparing for a cozy night to help him unwind. To your surprise, you hear the tinkling of the keys in the door a mere thirty minutes after you send the message, way before you’re expecting him to return.
“Everything okay?” you ask when he appears in the bedroom doorway. You sit up at the edge of the bed. “I thought you weren’t gonna be back for another hour.”
He has that look again, the one that makes your insides run warm instantly. “Had to come home right away,” he murmurs, taking a step towards you. Something about the air shifts, immediately becoming darker, hotter, his hunger settling like a haze. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing?”
“I haven’t been doing anything,” you say, feigning innocence.
He laughs, a deep, low chuckle in the back of his throat. “Cute.”
“Well,” you say indignantly, “Would it kill you to admit that you like it when I wear your clothes?”
Baekhyun lifts your chin up towards him and immediately you feel the stirrings of desire deep within you. “I like it when you wear my clothes,” he says softly. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”
You swallow, already feeling any sort of bravado wilting underneath his stare. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I didn’t have the time to properly show you just how much it’s been affecting me.” His hand drifts lower, following the dip of the unbuttoned neckline of his shirt until his fingertips graze the top of your tits. “Didn’t want to rush it.”
“We have all night,” you whisper. “Don’t we?”
That’s all the encouragement Baekhyun needs. He sinks to his knees on the floor, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties and dragging the fabric down your legs. He settles in between your thighs, the heat of his breath on your core sending a shiver down your spine. When he kisses your inner thigh, you can’t help the way that your back arches, pushing yourself into his touch.
“You’re so worked up,” Baekhyun says, voice sounding half-amused and aroused. He drags his thumb across your slit, feeling the wetness pooling there. “You like teasing me, don’t you?”
“Get on with it,” you whine. “I need you.”
“Uh-uh,” he says softly. He sucks a mark into your skin, reveling in the way that you shudder. “I told you I didn’t want to rush. I’m gonna take my time with you.”
After what feels like an eternity of soft touches and kissing up your thighs, he finally, finally puts his mouth where you want it. You sigh with relief, your hips rising to meet him halfway as he kisses your clit, tongue dipping into your hole, fucking you with unhurried precision.
Baekhyun truly meant it when he said he didn’t want to rush. His lips brush against you with reverence, slowly taking you apart second by second. Just because the pace is slower doesn’t mean it’s any less devastating. He knows exactly when to lap at you harder, when to insert two of his long, slim fingers inside you, pressing steadily against that spot that makes you see stars.
“Oh, Baek—” you whisper, burying your hands in his hair. “Feels so good.”
He groans against you, almost inaudible underneath the wet, slick sounds of your cunt. His free hand slides up your stomach, underneath the fabric of the shirt, grasping at your tits as he sucks on your clit. “Yeah?” he murmurs. He pulls back and purses his lips, letting a glob of spit fall onto your hole. He pushes it in with his fingers, watching it in awe. “You gonna cum for me?”
“Please,” you whisper. “I want it.”
He ducks his head back down, hooking both arms around your thighs as he pulls your body towards him, lapping at your cunt like a man starved. The sudden change of pace is brutal, devastating. His tongue flicks against your clit while he fucks you deep with his fingers, curling them perfectly. It doesn’t take long at all for your body to cave, your orgasm ripping like fire underneath your skin. You cum with a cry of his name, loud and unabashed, your fingers gripping his hair.
You reach out to pull on his arm, urging him to switch spots but he ignores you, spreading your trembling thighs open once more. “You don’t think I’m done yet, do you?” he asks before burying himself back against your core.
“F-Fuck!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut. Each pass of his tongue feels electric, deftly swirling and sucking in a way that makes your head spin. “Baby, please. Hold on—”
“Nah,” he grins wickedly, sinking his fingers back inside you. “You can take it, can’t you?”
He takes you apart just like this: slowly, teasing, again and again and again. You lose track of how many times your thighs clamp around his head, your voice cracking with each moan. All you have to ground you is Baekhyun’s heated gaze, greedily drinking in your vision as you come apart underneath him. He can’t look away, won’t look away, would rather die than miss even a fraction of a second of this.
He finally lets up, nose and lips shiny and slick with you, standing as he undoes his tie. You sit up to help him, undoing the button of his slacks with shaky fingers. You reach down to palm at his cock, achingly hard and already leaking at the tip. His hips pitch forward as you run your hand up and down his length, spreading his precum with your thumb.
“You’re so hard,” you whisper, a ghost of a teasing smile on your face.
“Can you blame me?” he grunts, eyes screwing shut. “You’re so fucking hot it’s unreal.”
He finishes undoing his shirt and you lean forward, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across his chest and stomach as you begin to jerk him off faster. His hand wraps around to cup the back of your head, holding you close to his skin. He smells so very faintly of the cologne he applied this morning, but also of something that can only be described as him.
“Tell me what you want,” he gasps. “How do you want to be fucked, sweetheart?”
“Wanna ride you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes.
Baekhyun groans, quickly ridding himself of the rest of his clothing before joining you on the bed. You position yourself above him, dragging the tip of his cock against your folds. “Feel how wet I am for you?” you whisper, bending forward to kiss his jaw.
“Yes,” he breathes, reaching one hand out to hike the shirt higher up your thighs. “God, please.”
Slowly, you sink down, biting back a moan until you’re fully seated, trembling on his cock. Baekhyun’s head lolls back against the headboard, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he rasps, hands twisting in the sheets below him. “God, you’re fucking squeezing me.”
You lift yourself back up and fuck down onto him in the way you know that he likes, fighting through the sensitivity that threatens to burn you from the inside out. You roll your hips, bouncing up and down with enough force to shake the bed, chasing your own pleasure with an unmatched ferocity.
Baekhyun stares, eyebrows drawn together in pleasure, taking in the sinful vision of you above him, your flushed face and parted lips, the way he can see your tits bouncing underneath the shirt—his shirt. The realization pulls something primal out of him, a shaky sort of all-encompassing feral need. He pulls you towards him, catching your lips in a kiss while he unbuttons the shirt, fingers tracing bare skin as it’s revealed to him.
“You’re shaking, angel,” he murmurs, pushing the fabric off of your shoulders. “Does it feel that good?”
You let out a breathless laugh, splaying your hands on his chest for better leverage as you up the pace of your hips. “Cocky, are we?”
Baekhyun plants his hands firmly on either side of your hips and thrusts up into you, sharp and mean. You cry out, hands scrabbling onto the headboard to hold on tight before he begins pounding into you from below. “Lemme ask you again,” he says, grunting from exertion. “Feel good, baby?”
“Yes!” you sob, screwing your eyes shut. The pleasure is white-hot, fire rolling through your body and singing behind your eyelids. “Fuck, I can’t—”
“Cum for me,” he commands. “Show me how good I make you feel.”
It’s instant, the way your body bows for him, curling in on yourself as your orgasm overtakes you. He fucks you through it, his grip on your body tight and unyielding, his muscles flexing with each movement. You gasp with each motion, your stolen breath hitching with each thrust, every movement setting your insides alight with flame.
He helps you off of him and positions you on your elbows and knees, burying himself into you from behind. You immediately dip forward, your forehead dropping to the sheets as he sets a brutal rhythm, your moans muffled against the fabric. You take the comforter between your teeth to ground yourself, your head fuzzy and dizzy with arousal.
You feel the weight of his body as he drapes himself over you, grinding his hips deep against your sweet spot. “You always take me so well,” he murmurs, trailing kisses up your shoulderblade until he reaches the back of your head. “Like we were fucking made for each other.”
“Oh my God,” you whine, pushing your hips back, fucking yourself onto him. The sounds are absolutely filthy, the slapping of skin on skin, the wetness spilling onto your thighs, the steady stream of downright pornographic dirty talk falling from Baekhyun’s lips. Everything from good girl to just like that, fuck yourself on my cock. It’s all too much, borderline overwhelming, but you can’t stop. How could you, when it feels this fucking good?
You whimper when you feel yourself nearing the edge once more, placing one hand palm-up next to your head, closing and opening your fingers rapidly. Baekhyun chuckles, interlacing his fingers with yours as he seats himself inside of you, his voice breaking when you clench around him. “Can you cum again for me, love?”
“Yes,” you whisper. “Please, Baek.”
He kisses your back once more before he reaches his free hand around to circle your clit, rolling his hips into you hard enough for the bed beneath you to rock noisily. You yell out, a mix of incoherent whines and his name, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. Stars explode behind your eyelids as you shake, biting the comforter so hard your ears start to ring.
Gently, Baekhyun turns you onto your back and sinks back inside you, moaning at the feeling of your sensitive walls fluttering around him. He grabs your thighs and positions you so that you’re wrapped around him, legs locking behind his waist. He finally unhooks your bra, kissing and biting your chest while he waits for you to adjust.
“Aren’t you tired yet?” you ask breathlessly, voice catching on a laugh.
Baekhyun shakes his head, smirking boyishly in that annoyingly handsome way. “Never.” He surges forward, kissing you messily as he rolls his hips, long, fluid motions that cause you to claw at his shoulders.
His skin is damp, glistening slightly with sweat, the strands of his hair that curl over the nape of his neck sticky with it. The smell of sex, heady and heavy, hangs in the room like a perfume. He leans down and brushes his lips against your neck.
You giggle, instinctively swatting him. “Tickles.”
He exhales out a laugh, drawing you close as he continues to roll his hips into you, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against your sweet spot. Your skin still prickles from sensitivity, your breath still hitches from time to time, but the intimacy of the closeness just hits different. The heat is settling now, dulled down from a deafening roar into a warm hearth.
Baekhyun traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes sparkling at you like you’re the most gorgeous creature he’s ever laid eyes on. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his lips following the path that his finger drew. “My angel.”
You card your fingers through his hair and your heart squeezes at the way he follows your touch, nudging his head into the palm of your hand. “I love you,” you say. “So fucking much, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun keens, head dropping forward as his hips stutter. “F-fuck,” he groans brokenly, looking up at you through his lashes with wild, desperate eyes. “Tell me that again, please.”
“I love you.” You draw his head down, cradling him against your skin, his breath coming hot and needy against your neck. You whisper in his ear, “You’re my one and only. Mine.”
He gasps, roughly grabbing your hips as he ruts into you. “I’m yours— fuck, I love you, I fucking love you,” he sobs, frantically driving into you, chasing his own high. His body tenses up before he spills into you with a loud cry, filling you with his warm seed. He’s shaking, panting from the intensity, holding you close like it’s the only way to keep him grounded to the Earth.
You press a kiss to his sweat-damp temple, soothingly dragging your nails across the back of his scalp. Neither of you wants to move, too wrapped up in each other, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment.
Baekhyun finally lifts his head up, eyes soft with satisfaction, lips red and kiss-swollen. He kisses you sweetly, brushing the stray strands of hair out of your face. “You really are so beautiful,” he says softly. “How did I get so lucky?”
You feel your cheeks blooming with warmth as you hide your face against his chest. “You’re so embarrassing,” you mumble.
“I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror later so you can see what I see.”
You sigh, trying to hide the way that the bluntness of his statement makes you laugh. “Seriously? We just did all that and you’re already thinking about going again?”
“What happened to we have all night?” he pouts. “That wasn’t just dirty talk for me, love. I’m seriously going to show you just how much I’ve been needing you.”
You hum, pretending to think about it even though you can already feel the stirrings of desire deep within you. “Give me thirty minutes.”
“Twenty.”
“Twenty-five.”
Baekhyun tilts his head, thinking. “Can we kiss for those twenty-five minutes?”
You laugh. “Yes, Baek. Of course.”
He grins, pressing his lips against yours. “Thank God.”
You don’t get to give another retort before his lips are back on you. When he shifts, you feel him move inside you, sending a shiver up your spine. You’re in for a long, long night, but you couldn’t be happier.
loverboy baekhyun who cums when his partner says i love you who's with me
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i just reread ‘if you wanna’ and the idea of baekhyun as a sugar daddy genuinely spins my head and you wrote a literal masterpiece of a series. i feel like that fic is the most accurate to him, like it’s very baekhyun of him. i once saw a tweet or something that went something like “baekhyun is the type of man to literally get turned on by you spending his money” and oh my god it’s so accurate, like i can genuinely see him all proud and affectionate and aroused whenever you’d spend his money especially on something expensive, also bbg can we get some more sugar daddy baekhyun, perhaps a sweet drabble 🤭
also requested by anon: more age-gap older baekhyun with a younger reader…? im so in love with the way you write him 😩
baekhyun x f!reader | wc: 1k. sugar daddy au (if you wanna verse), significant age gap (10+ years), established relationship. fluff, no outright smut but it is very very suggestive (kissing, teasing, etc)
a/n: hi lili! thank you for the love on this series <3 here's a fluffy drabble that is intended to be set within the if you wanna verse about six months after the events of the series, but can also be read on its own without reading the original work! i also hope it's okay that there isn't any straight up smut in this... sometimes my smut brain just does not work </3
"Mongryong," you call out, stifling a yawn. "C'mere, baby, I wasn't done yet."
The dog yips, sounding as though he's coming from the front door. There must be someone walking by in the hallway outside that caught the dog's attention, and you're about to call out to him again when you hear the click of a keycard against the apartment's card reader.
Mongryong yips again as your eyes fly open. Baekhyun's voice floats down the hallway, gentle and soft in a way that makes your heart melt. "Hi, buddy! Did you miss me? I missed you soooo much."
You get off the couch and follow the sound, peeking around the corner of the entryway and smiling to yourself at the sight. Baekhyun crouches on the ground, rubbing his beloved dog's belly, a giant bouquet of flowers balanced in his free hand. His eyes are lit up with excitement, but none of that compares to the way his gaze changes when he glances up and sees you standing there.
"You're home earl— oh!" Your sentence is cut off when he wraps you up in his arms, peppering your face with kisses. You breathe in his scent greedily, immediately feeling tension that you didn't even know you had in your shoulders bleeding away.
"I missed you so much," he murmurs in between each peck, finally landing on your lips. "Two weeks is too long. Next time you're coming with me."
"I wouldn't be opposed." You smile in his arms, tenderly dragging the tips of your nails across the back of his head. "I wish I knew you were coming."
He frowns slightly. "You don't like the surprise?"
"No, I do, I'm just so..." You gesture down at your clothes: one of Baekhyun's old t-shirts with some holes in the shoulders, your well-loved sweatpants. You're sure that your hair is a mess from the nap, and you're still blinking sleep away from your eyes. "I just like to look nice for you when you come back is all."
Baekhyun blinks. "You do look nice, sweetheart." He kisses the corner of your lips. "You're beautiful. You always are."
You put the flowers in some water while Baekhyun goes to unpack in the bedroom. It hasn't been even a few minutes before he's calling your name again.
"What's all this?" Baekhyun asks when you walk in, amused.
You wince when you see what he's gesturing at: the mountain of shopping bags stacked in the corner of the room, each bag in various states of disarray. "Sorry, I was gonna clean it up before you came back," you pout, embarrassed. "Why, is it too much?"
"You know that's not it." He quirks up an eyebrow. "How come you didn't model any of it for me?"
"I wanted to show you in person," you say, drifting closer towards him. "Aren't you tired, though? Hungry? We can always do it after dinner."
Baekhyun kisses your temple, hands wrapping around your waist. The way that his hands want so badly to dip even lower doesn't go unnoticed. "I have everything I need right here. Why don't you show me what you bought, hm?"
It starts off innocently enough. He helps you carry all of your bags to the en suite and waits patiently seated on the bed while you put on each item behind the closed door. His commentary ranges from purely complimentary to thoughtful, thinking out loud that this dress would go great with this pair of heels, or you should pair this sweater with one of your purses that you haven’t found a good excuse to wear out yet. No matter what he says, he sends you off with a big smile, stars in his eyes like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
When you reach the last bag, your heart starts to thump a little in your chest. While showing off all the things you’ve bought is fun no matter what, this part is what really makes your blood thrum with anticipation. You adjust the brand new lingerie set over and over again, making sure every little detail is perfect before you step out into the bedroom.
Baekhyun’s breath hitches in his throat, and you see him swallow as you take the few short steps towards him until you’re standing directly within his reach. His gaze drags down your body shamelessly, taking in the way the scant fabric hugs your body perfectly. He reaches out to touch you, but you intercept him, lacing your fingers with his instead.
“You didn’t tell me what you think yet,” you say with faux innocence. “Do you like it?”
He laughs, looking up at you through his lashes. “I love it,” he says quietly. “You’re so stunning.”
You settle into his lap, thighs bracketing his hips. You can tell that he doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know whether to look up at your face or down at your body, struggling to remain composed. It’s a valiant effort. Cute. But luckily for you, you know just how to make his control unravel in an instant.
You lean forward, brushing your lips against his, a barely-there, ghost of a touch. His eyes flutter shut, lashes fanning out onto his cheekbones.
“Thank you,” you whisper, tone oh so silky sweet. “For buying me everything.”
Baekhyun groans, the pads of his fingers digging into your hips. His movement drags you forward slightly, pressing you against the hard tent of his cock. “Oh, you know just how to get me where you want me, don’t you?”
You laugh, sliding your hands up his shirt. “Maybe.” You undo the top button, a shiver spreading down your spine when his eyes reopen, dark and full of desire. “But you know where I want to be, don’t you?”
“Where’s that, sweetheart?” He moves your hair to one side and leans in, pressing a firm kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder.
“Under you,” you whisper, your breath warm against his ear. “Or on top of you. Whatever you like.”
You let out a yelp when he suddenly stands, holding you fast against him while he spins around, dropping you gently onto the bed. He begins to finish unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and you swallow, eyes greedily watching as each sliver of skin is uncovered.
“I have a lot of ideas,” he says, eyes glinting with need. “And I’m planning on getting through all of them tonight. That alright with you, angel?”
You cock your head at him playfully. “I expect nothing less. You have two weeks to make up for.”
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omg i just finished watching obsession… and i was thinking if u could do reader mimicking nikki 😭😭 and baekhyun getting so damn scared.
baekhyun x gn!reader, established relationship., 500 words. sfw, humor, fluff(?). scaring the poor puppy lmao. very minor spoilers for obsession
a/n: i love this movie so much and i was trying to fit in a mention of it somehow in something i wrote and then this popped in my inbox! ty! you're a genius!
"That was crazy," you say, turning towards Baekhyun as the lights go up. "I was maybe expecting it to be a little scarier the way everyone was talking about it, but it was still really good."
Baekhyun's eyes are still locked straight ahead at the screen, hands gripping the armrests for dear life. "Yup," he says through gritted teeth. "Not scary. Not scary at all."
Although it takes a couple of minutes for him to unglue himself from the seat, he bounces back to his cheerful self in no time, driving back home with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh. In fact, any of the lingering scares from the movie are long gone by the time the two of you get ready for bed. You turn out the light of your bedroom and suddenly, a wicked idea starts to form in your head.
“Baby?” Baekhyun asks, sitting up in bed. “Is something wrong?”
You know that any residual light from outside your open bedroom is to your back, casting the front half of your body in complete shadow. “Go back to sleep,” you whisper, in your best impression of Nikki from the movie. “You’re so cute when you sleep.”
Baekhyun yelps. “Why?” he whines. “I was just starting to forget about it too.”
You don’t answer. You merely stand there, still and silent.
“Are you coming to bed?” he squeaks, voice trembling slightly.
“No,” you say slowly.
“Well, what are you—?”
“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Your voice rises in volume, repeating the iconic line.
“AH!” Baekhyun stands up abruptly and turns on the bedside lamp, bringing your face back into the light. “I’m sleeping on the couch,” he declares.
“Aw, c’mon, Baek, I’m sorry. You were the one that wanted to watch it anyways.”
He huffs, lower lip sticking out childishly. “I picked it because I know you like horror movies,” he says. “I didn’t know you were going to torture me.”
“Baekhyunnie…” You cross the bedroom to wrap him in your arms. He remains stiff as a board, pettily not returning any of your affection. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Don’t sleep on the couch.”
You give him a peck on the cheek, then another, then another, and that’s all it takes for him to deflate. “Y’know, you did a pretty good impression,” he mumbles. “Maybe there’s a hidden career for you in horror acting.”
“Mm, don’t encourage me,” you reply. “I’ll have to make you my practice scene partner. You’ll be hearing all of that and worse.”
Baekhyun shudders. “Okay, bad idea. Forget I said anything.”
Minutes later, the two of you lie in bed together, the little spat all but forgotten. Right before Baekhyun drifts off to sleep, you say, “Hey, you know something?”
“Hm?”
Your voice drops to a whisper. “You know you are cute when you sleep, right?”
Baekhyun groans. His hand darts out to press against your side, attacking your most ticklish spot in a brief, devastating way that makes you choke out a startled laugh. “You demon,” he moans. “I never know peace with you.”
“You like it.”
He hums. “Never said I didn’t.”
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writing a kokobop!baekhyun summer fling fic where reader meets him on a vacation 🤭🤭 it’s going so good, fingers-crossed that i don’t lose motivation in the middle of writing smut 🗣️🗣️
as someone who’s all about letting people do whatever they want in fandom spaces if it makes them happy as long as it’s harmless fun, i have very mixed feelings about p-links here on tumblr. especially since i’m so against p*rn and the whole industry itself (like most sensible women are), idk how to genuinely feel about it and especially since i’m a lot on batfam’s side of tumblr, that side is literally filled with it like. please tell me this is valid and i’m not the only who feels like this 🙏🏻
Synopsis: Reader and Chanyeol finally make it to their date. A unexpected rain pour diverts plans, leading them to hide in his studio.
W.C: 6k
Content Warning: couch sex (we made it team!), protected sex (bc of course this Chanyeol would have a condom with him). Consensual first date hook up.
A/N: I do a lot of writing at work which involves being direct, succinct, with active voice. But, I noticed while reading fellow fic writers and fiction books that flowery prose is where the world builds. So pardon for the change but this last part is more aligned to that. The previous parts are written in past tense, but this one is written in present tense. I felt like I had more room to breathe by being there in the moment. It will ick me that the last 3 parts are written differently, but I'm also working on just having fun! So, here it is!
This is the last part of At Your Service. Thank you for the positive feedback. It was so fun to tackle this slow burn without having a clear end in mind. I got the chance to explore my characters and the natural sequence of events, and I'm happy with where we're ending things! Hope you enjoy the read!
“Good morning! Hope you slept well. Picking you up at 1pm, no excuses TT”, reads the text that buzzes you awake.
“1pm on the dot. I’ll be waiting!” You reply through glassy eyes, a cheek still pressed against the pillow.
You roll over and burry your face in your pillow. Fine. Alright. Attempt #2 at spending time together. Yesterday’s cancellation wasn’t how you were expecting your day to end. But then he called and said it was supposed to be date?
“Ugh.” You groan into your pillow.
You weren’t supposed to overthinking Chanyeol’s intentions. But the mixed signals were confusing. Sure, he had said the word date on the phone yesterday, and you wouldn’t mind of it was one. Sure, it would be nice to get to know him better. And, sure, somehow, he hasn’t left your brain since he dropped you off from the festival.
You roll on your back, already exasperated first thing in the morning. Rubbing the sleep off your eyes, “My god… what’s gotten into me,” you mumble to yourself while begrudgingly pulling the sheets away from you.
Enough ruminating. Chanyeol will be here at 1pm. It’s been confirmed. It’s just a hang out. Maybe a date? Shoot…
Your phone was ringing at 12:58pm, as if your constant thinking of him alone materialized his name on the screen.
“Hello?” You answer.
“Hey! I’m here. I don’t know how to get into the building.”
“Oh, don’t worry about coming up! I’ll be right down.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, be right there.”
“Alright, see you soon.”
“See ya.” You push yourself off the couch, where you’ve buried yourself patiently impatiently waiting for this moment.
Right past the entrance was Chanyeol, leaning against his car in the same spot where you last saw him. The midday sun shining against his polished car, also bringing out the dark brown undertones of his hair. His lips spread into an eye-crinkling smile when you enter his field of vision.
“Hi there.” He says, peeling away from the passenger door.
“Hi there.” You reply. Once close enough, he politely opens the door for you to enter, inviting you in with a hand. “So kind of you.” You say while ducking in.
“I need to overcompensate and repent for cancelling yesterday.” He jokes as he closes the door. A small chuckle forms as you see him half jog to his side of the car.
“Okay so, bad news.” He says, taking his position as driver and opening his phone’s navigation app. “The place we wanted to go yesterday doesn’t open until dinner time.”
You kiss your teeth, “You keep disappointment me.” You say with a sarcastic head shake.
“So!” He rapidly cuts you off, “An alternative is my favorite Japanese restaurant. I think you may like it.”
“Sure! However, you’ll only be fully repented if you order in Japanese for us.” You joke.
A stressed-out hand begins to rub the back of his neck, “I’ve never spoken Japanese there.”
“So?”
He stares you down for a few seconds, testing to see how far you’ll take the bravado, but to no avail. “Fine. If that will clear my karma from yesterday, I’ll do it.”
“Hibi encore stage, ladies and gentlemen!”
“Hey, good remembering my stage name!” He says while pulling away from the spot and beginning the drive.
A sudden feeling of bravery took over you, helping you to not over think your next words. “You’ve been easy to remember.”
“You’ve been hard to forget.” He flirts right back. Your eyes freeze on his face trying to remember every hint of that mischievous smirk that crosses his face when he gives you a compliment. “I was really looking forward to seeing you yesterday.” He continues as his knuckles crack when he extends his fingers on the steering wheel. “I truly am embarrassed for cancelling so last minute.” The heavy remorseful tone was so genuine, you instinctively reach over and place a gentle hand on his arm.
“Hey, it’s okay. Work happens.” You let go, wondering if he was okay at the sudden touch. “How was the client’s project?”
His shoulders roll back, shaking off tension from his body. He did this a couple of times as he shares all the details about his day. The client had skipped a week in their contracted time and asked for extended hours to make up for the missed time at his studio. He spoke with so much emotion it was clear that despite the annoying bits, Chanyeol truly loved his job and making music was his passion. While he rambled on, you took the opportunity to slow down on all the small details of his face. The small freckle that rested on his nose, his soft upper lip, the slight hint of facial hair growing on his chin. Your eyes only darting back to his when he would turn to look at you.
“So, whatever, we did as much as we could. I told him he’ll need to schedule a couple more sessions at my usual times. It’s hard to balance all my contracts, I can’t be staying late without proper notice.” He said while turning into a quieter neighborhood.
“Sounds like pain. I’m sorry”
“Yes, and I’m also sorry. I hope I’m forgiven.”
“Hey,” you gently push him, “stop apologizing. You’re forgiven and soon to be repented.”
“Yes, that’s right. Can’t believe you’re forcing me to speak Japenese.”
“You already sing in it! This can’t be harder than that.”
“Uh-uh! My lyrics are practiced, rehearsed, and overly thought of. Conversations are different.”
“You will do just fine. Plus, I won’t know if you make any mistakes.”
He teasingly pushes away your left knee, “I should teach you a few words.”
“Maybe you should.” You say.
“We’re almost there.” He says, bringing his car to a slow stop.
This was an area of town a bit unfamiliar to you. Just small shops and office spaces.
“I’ve never been to this part of town.” You say while looking out the window.
“Oh, only the best of the best is over here. Nothing like a hidden gem in the middle of an office complex.” He parks his car on a street spot. “We need to walk a bit up. It’s right past that ally”. He says pointing at a quaint row of shops that lined a pedestrian only strip. You reach for your door handle, and he instantly launches himself over and covers your hand in his, preventing you from opening it any further. “Nope! Let me.”
“You’re being silly.” You chuckle as he scoots out of his seat and speedies to your side.
“After you.” He says opening the door in a light bow, a hand extended in front of you.
“You’re being really silly.” You laugh, yet take his hand as you exit his car.
He doesn’t let go of your hand until the door is fully closed and your bodies are now walking side by side.
He tells you about all the shops in the area in great detail. For the most part, they were private businesses with store fronts all adorned in an individual fashion to best display their product. There was a wedding and party rental store, a courier service, a framing shop, a photography studio. Tucked within all of them was the sushi restaurant. However, restaurant is a big word to describe the establishment that fit 2 tables and 4 stools along the sushi counter.
A bell chimed as he opened the door for you. The weight of your feet causing the old wooden floor to crack underneath you. It was a small place that felt alive and well loved by its owners and patrons.
“Irasshaimase!” Says the older gentleman behind the sushi counter.
“Hell-… Irasshaimase!” Chanyeol replies now remembering his earlier promise.
You laugh quietly by his side.
“Oh! Hi, Chanyeol! Please sit anywhere.” Says the gentleman in a much warmer tone after seeing who has entered.
He guides you to the table closest to the door, pulling out a chair for you to sit before sitting across from you. “They know you by name?” You ask inquisitively as you keep taking inventory of your surroundings.
“Yes. I come here too often.”
“All the way out here for sushi?”
“My studio is just a few stores town.” He said with a small smile.
“What! You could’ve started with that! We could have totally gone somewhere not so close to work.”
“It really is my favorite place, and I know can trust them. They’re good and reliable. I want everything to go well on this date.”
Your chest suddenly felt like it grew too small for your lungs. “So… this is a date.” You say, not so much ask.
He looks at you with a slight blank expression, cocking his head to a side. “Did I not…? Oh my god.” His eyes widen and he covers his face for a slight second before dropping them and regaining his composure. “I did not ask you out properly, did I?”
“Well, depends on how you define ‘properly’.”
“Aish….” He mumbles. He looks around for a second and then turns back to you. “Hold on.”
He scurries off his chair and takes a few steps to get close to the back of the shop. He whispers something to the gentleman behind to counter that causes him to grin widely while nodding. Chanyeol bows in return and you see him walk to the vase of flowers that rested on the decoration towards the back. He plucks a flower out of the vase and makes his way back to your table.
The realization of what’s happening dawns on you with every step he takes closer to you.
He takes his seat across from you and raises the flower in his hand. He speaks your name and you hold his gaze trying to control the grin that is asking to spread across your face. “I would like to take you out on a date, right now, and get to know you more. Would you do me the honor?”
You can’t hold back the grin anymore and let it explode. Letting go of all the pent up feelings of confusion that had rested within you’re the past few days. You gladly accept the flower and bring it your nose for a smell.
“Yes, thank you for asking.”
“Oh, thank God.” He says slumping back onto his chair in a dramatic way. “I can’t believe I messed up the first and most important part.”
You laugh again. It's not often that you meet a guy that comfortably expresses his feelings and thoughts. “Well, let’s make sure this date goes by well. What should we order.”
Chanyeol unlocks his phone to show you the digital menu. He points out all his favorites and must tries, and the few items he’s yet to taste. You both agree to order a couple of his favorites, and a few new dishes so that you get to try them together.
“Are you ready to order?” Says the gentleman wiping his hands on his apron.
“Yes. Please, we’ll or-“ You kick his ankle under the table and his nose scrunches at the memory of his promise. “I’m so sorry, sir. Is it okay if I practice my Japanese with you?”
The gentleman brightens up and, of course, agrees. You lean back and absorb the image of Chanyeol politely listing your order in a language unfamiliar to you. The gentleman asks a few follow up questions, and Chanyeol replies. There was a bit of the conversation that dragged a little longer, one in which the gentleman slightly pointed his pen between the two of you. That was the only moment you wished to know all the details of the words they exchanged.
“He said it would all be right out.” Chanyeol says facing back to you.
“That was impressive.”
“And a bit embarrassing.”
“Don’t be, you sounded great. What did he say at the very end?” You ask.
“Oh nothing. He asked if you were a friend of mine.”
“Mmmm, I guess I am?”
“Yes, for now.” He says, reaching his hand and twirling the flower’s stem between his fingers.
The gentleman interrupts you again by bringing you water.
“So, tell me something about you I haven’t learned yet.” He bids.
The rest of the meal was spent in easy conversation, as usual. You told him about your family and friends, and he did about his. You each shared stories, likes and dislikes, recounted the festival and the favorite parts and the not-favorite parts. All words shared over a delicious spread of freshly cut raw fish, perfectly seasoned rice paired with a few pickled and other simmered vegetables. The meal comes to a close with a kettle of green tea resting between you two.
“My favorite was the salmon nigiri and the yellow tail sashimi. I surprisingly liked the umeboshi onigiri.” You say listing all your favorite items.
“I liked the salmon nigiri too, but I liked the braised lotus root the most. It was a nice surprise.”
“With these, you’d officially tried everything on the menu, right?”
“Correct. Finally checking off that accomplishment from my list.” He says proudly rubbing his stomach.
“Should you get the check?”
“Yes, I’ll ask.” Chanyeol twists his body to make eye contact with the gentleman, and asks for the check.
“You can stop speaking in Japanese now. You’ve been freed.”
“Mmm, I kinda liked it. Plus, I get to show off a bit in front of you”
You roll your eyes at him before a bright light comes through the front windows followed by a loud thunder. You jolt in place at the sudden loud noise. “Rain?” You look out the window, only to be greeted by impossibly dark clouds.
“Shoot, we better get going. It’s going to pour.” Chanyeol says.
The gentleman did his best at hurrying, but in the short time it took to process the bill and Chanyeol to pay, the heavy clouds had begun to release their showers onto the pavement. Loud rain drops hitting against the window.
“We’ll get soaked if we walk to the car.” He says, taking his phone out to track the weather. “It’s going to rain for the next hour…”
You begin to peruse your brain for alternative options but got stopped by Chanyeol handing over his jacket. “Here. Use this to cover yourself, we can sprint to my studio. It’s just a few stores down on the left side.”
You agree and both bid goodbye and thank you to the man that took care of you. The rain was deafening when Chanyeol opened the door. He gives you instructions against but just requests for you to stay dry as he drapes his jacket over your head. You hold it in place; thankful his broad size actually provided you with good coverage.
He takes off in a sprint, and you follow right behind. The jacket helped ever so slightly, but the sideways rain instantly hit your legs and your body, leaving you feeling entirely too wet. He stops in front of a door and quickly presses a code onto the electronic keypad. You run in behind him right as the rain was starting to seep through your shoes.
You remove the soaking jacket and are mindful not to shake water everywhere.
“Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable.” He says guiding you into his dimly lit studio. It was of similar size as the restaurant, only with an entirely different ambient. He had mentioned it was new and under construction, but this was nearly done except for some minor décor that that needed to be hung and was resting on the floor. The studio was fashioned like a living room. There was a big couch to the right with accompanying side tables. The master soundboard laid divinely across from it, bringing all the attention of the room onto to. Towards the back was a closed off room, with a mic and soundproof padding covering the walls. A row of string instruments stood on display, a worn down cajon now doubled as a coffee table where papers with scribbles all over laid on top of it.
You took it all in, feeling out of place surrounded by so much equipment. He noticed your hesitant pace and kindly came closer to retrieve his wet jacket from your hands.
“You can remove your shoes and leave them by the door. I, however, am soaked.” He reaches for a bag in a closet. It looked like an overnight bag. He leans forward, letting water droplets fall from his hair onto the bag and pulls out pair of pants and long sleeves. “I need to change. Excuse me.”
He made his way to the recording booth, and you look away as he pulls his wet shirt off his body. You remove your shoes and take a few gentle steps closer to the sound board. It all looked like a spaceship to you. As much as you wanted your curiosity to win, you hold your hands tight against you to prevent touching and breaking anything.
“I have this.” His voice jolts you back to focus. “You may be more comfortable dry.” He says returning to the bag and fishing out another set of dry clothes. A pair of shorts and t-shirt.
“Do you keep a wardrobe here?” You half tease.
He combs his fingers through his hair, pushing it all back creating a natural combover look you can’t help but find extremely attractive. “Actually, yes. I’ve crashed on that couch a few times when it’s too late and I’m too tired to drive. I keep a change of clothes just in case”
You were about to decline the offer of clothes when the cold AC had started to turn all wet bits of your clothes into cold spots, and the loud incessant rain outside told you were going to be here a bit longer than expected.
“May I?” You ask retrieving the clothes and pointing to the recording booth were he changed”
“Be my guest.”
You follow his cue and close the door behind you. You’ve never been in a sound booth before. The door closing created a vacuum seal on your ears, giving you the first listen into absolute silence. You carefully peel off your clothes, trying not to knock anything over with your bending body and not get anything wet. Comfort returned after putting on the all too oversized shorts and t-shirt Chanyeol had offered.
You leave the booth with your wet clothes neatly folded. Chanyeol was laying on the couch scrolling on his phone. You place your pile of clothes and gifted flower on the floor, and sit with your legs stretched out, opposite from him.
He immediately tucks his phone away, “you look cute.” He says, glaring at you up and down.
“You keep giving me clothes every time we see each other.” You joke
“You keep needing them,” he says crossing his arms on his chest. “So, how would you rate this date?”
“9/10. One minus point for unforeseen weather.”
He nods, “I agree with that rating.”
“But I could round up to 10 because I’ve never been shown a recording studio before.”
“This ol’ thing?” He says waving his hand out against the entire space.
“I’m serious, this is incredible.”
“It’s my baby.” Sincerity returning to his voice. “I used to rent space to work. It was finally time to have my own.”
“You’ve done well.” You compliment. “There’s so much equipment. And the sound board looks scary.”
“It really isn’t. Come, look” He pushes your legs off so he could get up. He took a seat on the spinning chair in front of the board. With a few button pushes, it all came alive. The computer monitor lit up along with the buttons that sprawled across. He types and clicks a few things as you approach him from behind, resting your forearms on the headrest of his chair.
“Okay look. This is one of the songs I played at the fest.” He says opening a file. The familiar jazz-sound playing from the speakers you hadn’t noticed were hanging from the ceiling. He cuts it off before the words begin. He points to the screen that displayed a never-ending maze of color coded horizontal lines. “Every part of a song; the main vocal track, backing vocals, every instrument, has one dedicated track.” He says noting the many lines of soundwaves that displayed on his screen. “Making music is little about having the best equipment, and a lot about knowing how to put something together that’s sounds good.” He repeats his own words from a few days back. You move from behind him to next to him, pulling up a spinning stool that was nearby. “So, look. Imagine if I increase this bit” He clicks a few buttons and presses play, playing the same track but now with an all too loud record scratch sound that drowned all other sound. “That sounds like ass. Every piece of the music needs to blend and marry each other.” He lowers it against and replays, revisiting the pleasant sound.
“Chanyeol, you’re good at what you do.” You say matter-of-factly.
He looks at you, his eyes trailing between your eyes and briefly on your lips. “No no, I just know what sounds good to-“
“No.” You stop him, “You are good at what you do. That’s how you know what sounds good.” He shakes his head a bit, a quirk that lets you know he’s not good at taking compliments. “And, this was a wonderful date. Thank you.” You say leaning closer, resting your elbows on your knees.
You notice his eyes switch between your eyes and lips again. “I’m glad you had fun.” You only noticed he was giving you a gentle smile because your eyes were also on his lips.
You both hold this moment, not sure how to proceed.
“Can I ask you a question?” You ask. He replies with a nod, his eyes not leaving their spot on your face. “You just met me at work, and now we’re on a date. How did that happen?”
He spins his chair so he’s fully facing you. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He begins. “It felt like my lucky day every time I would need to buy something and you were on shift. I had the opportunity to ask you to hang out, and you magically said yes. Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you agree to come to my practice?”
“I, admittedly, didn’t know it was going to be just us two. But…” You start. “That’s when I noticed how handsome and kind you were. So, I didn’t mind seeing you again at the show.”
It started to feel like the space between you both was getting smaller by the second.
“Can I ask you another question?” He whispers. You nod. “Can I kiss you right now?”
Your faces were so close, only permission was needed to close the gap. “Yes.”
He makes away of all the distance by gently pressing his lips onto yours. It was a peck at first. Then another as he places a hand on your cheek. Then both your lips part as your heads tilt to the side to make more room for a deeper kiss.
You instinctively place a hand on his lap as he snuck his fingers closer to the nape of your neck.
His lips were as soft as they looked. The sound of the rain was still pitter-pattering outside the entrance, and the dim lighting was surrounding you both in what felt like a moment in space where time could stand still.
You wanted to get closer to him, and you could tell so did he by the way his tongue was beginning to tease your lips. You allow your tongues to dance as you brought yourself closer to him. The hand on his thigh moving to gently hold onto his forearm.
He retracts from the kiss and reduces it back to a peck. It was all so tender and polite. While enough passion was present to create a pressure between your legs.
A loud thunder breaks through the silence that was just created.
“We’re going to be here a while, huh?” You joke.
“Looks like it.” He agrees, not quite letting go of his hand on your neck. “We could keep,” he breathes, “we could keep kissing?”
Yes. Yes. 20 times yes. You nod and grab his hands in yours. Guiding him to the couch. You sit side by side, resuming where you left off. Your tongues were quickly melding into one another. The pressure at your core continuing to build. You dare to hike a leg close to him, only to be gladly welcomed by one his broad hands trailing from your thigh to your ass.
You pull away from his mouth to trail kisses down his face, by his lobe, and onto his neck. One kiss by the collarbone resulted in him squeezing your ass.
“You’re trying to kill me?” He asks through clenched teeth.
“We can stop whenever.” You offer while trialing your way back to his mouth.
“I don’t know if I can stop.” He says with an expression of absolute lust on his face. You were loving the control you had on him. The leg hiking up on him spreads wider to hoist yourself up onto a straddle. Both of you on thin lounge wear made it incredibly easy to tell that he was hard under his clothes. The light pressure he was placing on you was making you want him more and more.
A symphony of kisses, breaths, rain, and the occasional thunder filled your ears. It began to feel like nothing else mattered outside of this moment.
His hands had no other place to rest than your hips, where he sprawled all 10 fingers trying to hold onto every inch he could. You grind on him once, making him to throw his head back, sucking air between his teeth.
“Shit…” He mutters.
He was getting harder by the second.
“Fuck…” He pulls you off of him just enough to put a pause to it all. “Are you okay with us doing it.” He asks, always the too honest.
“Yes, I am. Are you okay with it?” You ask in return.
His arms instantly wrap around your waist making him burry his face between your breasts. “There’s nothing I want more.” He expertly pushes you off and places you down on the couch. “One second.” He gets up, his hard on noticeably showing now that he’s standing.
He made his way to his bag and pulls out a condom.
“You’re a well-prepared man, aren’t you?”
He shrugs while ripping the package open with his teeth. You extend your hand requesting the condom. His brow lightly raising as he gets closer to you.
You take the opened wrapper in one hand and place the other one on the back on his legs, bringing him closer to you. Your height while sitting on the couch aligning perfectly with his lower abdomen.
“Take these off.” You ask while tugging at his pants.
He obliges and his impressive length was freed from the spot you were just riding a second ago. You could feel your mouth salivate at the mere sight of him. You wrap a hand around him, stroking him at an impossible slow pace. Looking right at him and stimulating him until he was rock solid. Placing the tip of the condom on his head, you gently rolled it down to his base and into position.
“That was hot.” He mutters. He leans down to hover over your, lifting your chin with his fingers and stealing a couple of kisses. “Your turn," he says tugging at your shorts. Your swing your knees close to your chest and rip them off. “Lay down.” He commands again, and you happily oblige.
Chanyeol hovers over you again, now horizontal to you and begins to slowly kiss your neck. Your hand grasps at his shirt to pull him closer right as another loud thunder strikes. You widen your legs as much as you could to allow him to nestle himself between them. His hands snake under your shirt, cupping a breast as your chest rises and lowers He gently pinches one of your nipples, making you bite on his lip. If he’s into teasing, so are you.
You reach down and hold his dick with one hand, guiding him close to your entrance but using his tip to rub yourself from clit to hole. Spreading your wetness and welcoming him to feel your warmth.
“You’re a tease.” He growls, trying to stay composed.
“So are you.” You reply. Placing him right where you want him to be and letting go.
The hand he had on your breast moves to the back of your legs to adjust you in the way he wants it. He kisses you with increased intensity as he presses his hips forward, fully entering you and making you expand around him. Your fingers naturally find his hair and tug on it as he creates a steady pace sliding in and out of you. Quiet moans are already leaving your mouth in between kisses with every thrust. He wasn’t going too fast. He was giving you all the time you needed to adjust to him. You felt yourself fully relax into him and welcomed him deeper by wrapping both legs around his waist.
“Fuck me.” You ask. You beg.
He groans and loops an arm under you, lifting your hips upwards. You break your kiss to burry your face on his neck. Both of you focusing on the feeling of him pounding into you. You dared to open your eyes a bit. Welcomed by the vision on Chanyeol’s eyes closed, lost in the moment while being protected by the privacy of his studio.
“Fuck. This fucking couch…” He groans a bit in frustration at his limited space to move. “Get on your knees.” He guides you so you are facing the arm rest, while on your knees. You rest your forearms of the arm rest, and let yourself relax onto the position, allowing all of your behind exposed to him. You turn around and see him position himself behind you, “Yeah. This is fucking better.”
His hands find their old place on your hips, and he sheathes himself into you again. Now having better control. Driving you back and forth onto himself. The position was making your tits bounce and your skin clap with his. The angle in which you were at allowed him to hit you right at that spot that you loved.
You snuck a hand between your legs to touch yourself. He did not stop or change his rhythm.
The raw hot feeling was getting overwhelming. The familiar and lovely tension at your core was forming and you knew you were about to come undone. “Chan…Yeol… I’m going to…” You start.
“Let me hear you.” He says, smacking a cheek.
You stop controlling the sounds that were coming out of you. You stop thinking. You stop all manual processes and solely focus on the moment that you were at now. A gorgeous gorgeous kind man was fucking the shit out of you on the couch as you waited out the rain.
Your orgasm takes over your mind and body, making your body sway and jolt in movements out of your control. Chanyeol grasps your hips more firmly to keep you connected, making sure you feel all of him as your walls clench. You dare to look behind you to see him with eyes rolled back and lids half open. He bends over you and shuts his eyes tightly.
“I’m close.” He says in a whimper.
You bury your face deeper onto the arm rest, giving him a better view and full access to you. The sound of your wetness was impolite as your skin kept clapping with his. One of his hands moves to your lower back and like that, he pins you into place as he comes undone. He pairs each remaining thrust with a groan.
You were both out of breath and unable to form any coherent sounds.
You feel him pull out as he gently caresses your ass and thighs. The first return of his usual gentle self. You lower your body down to sit on your ankles and with your eyes, you see him discard the condom and reach for both your bottoms. He hands over your/his shorts over and you place them on, a quiet feeling of vulnerability creeping up within you.
“Um…” He says, sitting back down on the couch next to you. He looks over at you, and in unison you both let out a small chuckle at how intimate the situation is without the right words to pair it with. “I promise you this wasn’t my end goal for today.” He says, reaching a hand closer to you and placing it on one knee, a thumb rubbing on your skin.
You shrug back, “Mine either. But, I’m okay with it.” You say, making sure to not let the vulnerable feeling take over you and make you divert eye contact.
“I’m okay with it, too.” He says. You stay like that for a few seconds, bodies still trying to return to baseline without knowing if it was appropriate to use each other for comfort. A loud thunder reminded you that you were here for just a little while longer. You jolt ever so slightly, still with your senses on high. “Come closer.” He says, patting the space next to him. You scoot over and sit next to him. He drapes an arm around your shoulders, wrapping you in his arms. Your hands naturally find themselves on his lap, twirling at the drawstring as you allow yourself to relax onto the touch. A moment somehow more personal than the sex you just had.
“So, what now?” You ask, sobering up and unsure whether this diverted the date and your intentions together.
“What now?” He repeats. “Ummm…” He says with eyes drifting to the ceiling in thought. “I got to ask you a million questions today, so I know your backstory kinda well. I now know what you sound like when you cum-Hey!” He yelps as you swat his chest with a hand. “That hurt.”
“No, it didn’t” You reply, and he closes his embrace a little tighter.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay like this a little longer. And, if it’s also okay with you, I’d like to keep seeing you.”
You pull yourself up, and lean closer to his cheek. You plant a soft kiss there and his lips break into a tight line, trying to hold in his smile. “Yes. I’d like to stay here a little longer, and I’d like to keep seeing you.”
happy 75th birthday to the most successful female motorsport athlete ever, the legend, michèle mouton, runner up in the wrc drivers championship in 1982, and class winner of the 1975 24 hours of le mans, who also founded the race of champions and served as the first president of the fia's women in motorsport commission!
i objectively know i don’t really know any of those people really, but listen… oscar definitely has something undiagnosed going on there and lando is definitely a messy bisexual, i don’t have to know them personally to point out the obvious
Hiyaa do you write for Chen or are you ot8? There are multiple accounts on exoblr but no one of them write for jongdae and its hard being a jongdae biased because no one here writes for him with all that same weird excuses that he’s married and its weird and etcetc
omg i do write for jongdaeeee and i AM an ot9 exol. i love him, that’s literally my man. i feel like it’s hard to choose a bias in exo and i write for each one of them. im mostly ot9 biased but my biases are baekhyun and sehun. i do have three fics of him in my drafts i just haven’t been able to finish them because of no motivation and uninterest in the plot of the ones i am working on. send me the req of him you want and i promise to do my best work to write it :))
also there are exo writers on here that i know write for jongdae. there are many fics of jongdae by @madeinmyeon and @tulipbaeks also did like a whole ot9 writing event and wrote for him, check out both of their masterlists and you’ll find works of jongdae <33
about him being married… well, i think it’s just fiction and literally rpf and considering if one writes for the other members knowing damn well that no way in hell these guys in their thirties are still single and have no spouse is just being delusional. most of the exos are definitely in relationships too doesn’t matter if they made it public or not and if you’re gonna be writing for one of them might as well write for jongdae. not like the exos are ever gonna see these stuff, plus it’s just harmless fandom indulgences me thinks.
