When one side of the "conflict" still has the capacity to worry about providing gluten-free food for their soldiers while the other one struggles to provide water for their children, you know who the oppressor is.
When one side of the "conflict" constantly asks for donations to fund their army while the other one does the same to afford basic necessities such as water and food, you know who the oppressor is.
When one side of the "conflict" is still able to post videos from the comfort of their homes while the other one is being displaced from theirs, you know who the oppressor is.
A simple analysis of the hierarchy of needs will clearly show, between these two videos, who the oppressor is.
we all get hard when our girlfriend calls us big and strong.
beware: handjob, use of the pet name 'baby' (we ALL fw it), kinda submissive anton yess
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anton loves being in control. he's always the one towering over you, making you feel small, teasing you. but deep down, you know he loves being on the receiving end even more. he can't help taking the lead whenever you're around even if it goes against what he truly wants. you know he'll only fall into his destined position if he's caught off guard.
you find him spread out on the couch watching tv, he doesn't even notice you approaching. you plop down against his side, facing him. he mumbles an absent greeting, eyes boring into the screen.
your hand goes over his clothed stomach, feeling the dents of his muscles with your palm. he glances down at your hand for a moment before looking back up. you continue feeling him up, reaching to feel his muscular chest for a split second. he's visibly distracted now. "wow." you whisper, slipping your hand under his shirt.
"how often do you work out?" you trace his abs with your fingertips. you already know the answer, but you'll do anything to hear his affected voice.
"few times a week." he breathes out.
your head rests on his chest, the bass of his pounding heart flooding your ear. your wandering hand trails to his bicep, squeezing it gently. "so big and strong," you murmur, "what are you training for?" you crane your neck to see his face. his eyes flutter shut every time you give him a squeeze. your palm leaves his arm and he regains consciousness, mouthing a 'huh' when he realizes you'd asked him something.
you reach down to grasp at his thigh through the thick fabric of his sweats, "you train legs too right? a lot of guys only focus on their upper body." you're barely doing anything and he already looks so bothered, your head rising and falling along with his heaving chest. you feel movement when his chin slightly bumps the top of your head, but can't guess if he's nodding in response or not. "you do?" you look up at him, he's staring down at your hand intensely, like he's trying to control it with his mind.
"yes." he says quietly.
your other arm that's been wedged between your body and the couch stretches to rest behind his neck, fingers threading through his hair as he lets out a loud sigh.
your hand creeps back up to his toned stomach, purposely skipping over the growing bulge in his pants. your nails drag against the hard-earned definition of his abs, you can hear his heartbeat quickening when your hand glides down, two fingers slipping just past the waistband of his sweats. they stay there unmoved, "should i start working out too? i feel like i'm missing out on something."
when he opens his mouth to respond, you press down on his lower abdomen, earning what sounds like a low groan mixed with his usual exhales. "are you okay?" you ask lightly, withdrawing your digits and patting the cloth of his waistband as if you're smoothing something.
"no, wait. please." he says hurriedly.
"please what?" if he wasn't so desperate you're sure he would have rolled his eyes. you wait for him to part his lips in response, eager to play your sound-drawing trick on him again.
but instead, his hand envelopes the back of yours. your fingers intertwined, when he guides you directly where he wants.
he retrieves his hand and leaves you in control.
"why can't you react normally when i compliment you?" you tease.
"your way of complimenting," he pauses, letting out a groan when you palm him over his sweats. "isn't normal." he finishes the sentence, his voice rising by the end of it when you grab his length.
"you don't like normal." you tug his sweats and boxers down together slowly, freeing his hard cock. he's already leaking.
he looks at you with wide eyes when you move like you're about to touch him, but then stop midway, raising your palm up to his chin.
your head motions towards your hand when he looks at you dumbfounded. you know he knows what to do, he just wants you to say it.
"spit." you order.
it's obvious he's fighting back a smile while he gathers as much saliva as he can in his mouth, before parting his lips and letting it spill into your palm.
you cup your hand, tilting it so the spit drips down his length.
you give him one long stroke, spreading the wetness so it coats his whole cock. his head instantly tips back against the couch, slack-jawed. you massage his tip with your thumb and he lets out a whimper. "you're so sensitive." you say.
he only nods. you begin stroking his length up and down slowly, earning breathy moans. "you like that?"
he huffs out a quiet 'yeah', biting his lip harshly when you grip the base of his cock. you sit up, your hand that was tangled in his hair reaching under his shirt, feeling for his abs again. "you're so hot, anton." you purr, stroking him faster. "i'd go to the gym with you if it meant you'd fuck me in the locker room."
"fuck." he ruts into your hand.
you egg him on. "it'd feel like this." your grip on him tightens, trying to simulate how you'd clench around him.
he lets out a guttural moan, bucking his hips up to fuck your hand. his eyes are screwed shut, you know he's imagining it.
you can tell he's getting close as his hips stutter, so you purposely slow the pace, stroking him lazily. "already, baby?" you coo at him.
he leaks more precum just from the gentle tone of your voice.
"please continue." he whines.
"you're so cute." you reach up to caress his cheek with your other hand while you continue to stroke him, building up the pace once again. he lets his head fall sideways to rest on your palm, absentmindedly nodding against it when you ask him another meaningless question about the gym.
you gently push his head upright, both hands now going to the base of his cock. with no warning, you duck down and lick the tip. "oh my god." he gasps. you stroke him faster, wrapping your lips around him. he whimpers, "please. faster."
you detach from him and look up to see his eyes closed as he thrusts into your hold, "tell me what you're thinking about." his cock twitches in your hands.
"i'm thinking," he's reckless now, his own hand going over yours to squeeze himself. "i'm thinking about you, fuck," he shuts his mouth to suppress a moan you're still able to hear, muffled. "us at the gym. you counting my reps, then taking me to the back." he whines when you twist around him.
"you wanna fuck me in the gym, baby? have all your friends hear?" you coo at him, or maybe at his dick when you lean down to place a sloppy kiss on the tip. his hips snap upwards, spilling his release all over your hands as he falls apart with a low moan. he's panting when you continue stroking him, milking him of everything.
he nods when you pat his thigh, telling him you're going to go get a towel to clean up his mess. "are you really gonna start going to the gym with me?" he calls out.
you and taesan go together like classical music and rock: not at all. but similar to the way taesan keeps getting piercings, there’s something about the way he gets under your skin that you kind of like— and you’re too proud to admit why you keep coming back for more.
pair ; punk!taesan x ballerina!reader
genre ; smut (with plot), fluff?, rock band au, enemies to lovers
warnings ; fem!reader, taesan has piercings (including tongue), arguing (flirting), some jealousy, ‘make me shut up’ kiss, confessing of feelings, petnames (mostly princess), lots of mentions of taesan’s hands & rings, dom!taesan, bratty/sub!reader, thigh riding, praise, degr*dation, bre*st play, begging, a little sp*nking, no prep, piv
wc ; 8k
playlist ; smells like teen spirit by nirvana / sugar we’re goin down by fall out boy / a little death by the neighbourhood / punk rock princess by something corporate / she’s kinda hot by 5sos / good girl by thomas larosa / s*xtape by deftones / closer by nine inch nails / all i really want is you by the marías
✉️ 𓂃 ₊˚⊹ note ; happy new year!! idk if it’s unhinged to make a playlist for a smut fic but i couldn’t help myself ><. i avoided using lesser-known ballet terms for non-dancers to understand (aka me), but also tried to make it enjoyable for dancers to read. hopefully i was successful lol.
! . . . COPYRIGHT OF IHANGELIC
dancing along with the music of l’oiseau bleu is practically impossible when it sounds like a rock concert is taking place in the room just across from you.
lowering to stand flat footed in your pointe shoes, you raise your hands to your face, pinching your nose bridge in frustration as you try and resist the growing urge to pull your hair out.
the obnoxious sound of drums, a bass’s low rumble, and an electric guitar’s higher tune rings in your ears— drowning out any of your more rational thoughts until you’re left with only rage.
you try your best to block it out, to take a moment to breathe and try to get a controlled hold over your emotions— and you think it may work after you cover your ears with your own hands, the sound of the instruments still audible but sounding more distant. then the teeth gritting noise of a cymbal pierces through the barrier of your hands and it’s almost like it’s a sound effect for the way your train of thought shatters, letting out a sigh that sounds much more like an animalistic scream before stomping over to your phone and turning off the music.
power walking out of the dance studio and to the very unfortunately placed neighboring rental space, you don’t even have to turn the knob as you look through the glass door. the raging bitch face you wear is absolutely effortless as you mean-mug all three ‘problems’ in the room; ‘problems’ that drip in leather, distressed or patched fabric, spikes, and way too oversized jeans. you’re about to feel acquainted with the three men as this situation seems to occur more and more often.
foam panels are stuck to the walls; black cords are neatly coiled or in squiggly lines across the floor; and of course there’s guitars, a drum set, and microphones everywhere.
finally you catch the eyes of the long, blond haired drummer— and that gives you enough incentive to open the door and barge in like you own the place.
“could you be any louder?” you rhetorically ask, but it goes unheard as two of the men sing passionately into their microphones, eyes closed and hands working the strings of their guitars while the drummer keeps playing his drums— all while staring at you with a relaxed, barely inquisitive face.
“could you be any louder!” you shout, the end of the sentence awkwardly fading in volume when there's a screech from one of the guitars and everything goes quiet.
the two seeming vocalists turn their heads to look at you, all three men now staring while you stand, clearly bothered as your hands are on both sides of your hips and your chest heaves with deep breaths of frustration.
“well…” the dark haired, taller one begins— and your expression only sours more as you’re already familiar with how snarky and full of himself he can be. “you’re the one yelling.”
you let out an appalled scoff, unable to help the way your eyes roll as you’re angered even more by how that only seems to make the man smirk.
“if someone has to yell just for you to hear them that means you’re the loud one.”
“you sure about that, princess?” he asks, quirking a pierced brow. your impending explosive response must be visible as the shorter statured one interrupts for damage control.
“w— we’re sorry!” he starts, speaking on his friends behalves. the blond’s expression never changes as he stares at your fuming face, while the darker haired looks like he’s about to protest— but the other continues before he has the chance. “look..we got off on the wrong foot and…”
the way his hands float in front of him, bass hanging against his chest by the strap— it only adds to how lost he looks on what to do, and it makes you feel kind of bad. (for him at least.)
you’re about to start apologizing when he’s suddenly reaching his hand out towards you.
“i’m riwoo.” he introduces, then gestures over to the other two men. “this is taesan and leehan.”
“…y/n” you say somewhat sheepishly, a bit of your shame coming back at the politeness of the bassist you now know as riwoo.
previously you’d only knock aggressively at their door to ask them to shut up, a few times popping your head in when that didn’t work to snappily ask them to please try and keep it down at least a little. you’ve never actually had a full conversation with them before— or an argument...whatever this exchange of words could be classified as.
“unfortunately we can’t really be any quieter. we have to practice for a gig we got coming up—“
“isn’t your little dance school supposed to be closed now anyway?” taesan abruptly interrupts, yet again grinding your gears with the snarky way he says the words ‘dance school’.
“it’s closed for classes, but the rooms can be used for practice up until eleven pm.” you provide smartly, catching yourself before you scrunch your nose in disgust at him.
“we try to keep the noise at a minimum if we’re here at prime hours,” riwoo cuts in again, attempting to explain gently. “but past that…” he trails off, shoulders shrugging as he gives you a sympathetic look.
you process his words, how he really is seemingly trying to help you out here, before sighing softly as your hand raises to press into your increasingly aching temple.
“do you have to use your amps?” you ask, raising a hand to point at one.
“did you not hear him? we have a show to do, we need to practice as best as we can. so yes, we have to use our amps.” taesan firmly states, over enunciating like you can’t hear. his brows are slightly furrowed as his previous amusement is completely gone, a flame of annoyance now in his eyes.
you let your hand defeatedly fall and slap against your bare thigh, taesan’s eyes glancing down at your leg for the smallest of moments before looking back up to glare at you.
“who the fuck do you think you are?” you bite at him, sick of his selfish attitude as you turn your body fully in his direction, crossing your arms.
“wxnder.” he dryly states, making your head tilt in confusion and absolute impatience.
“huh?”
“wonder— but like, with an ‘x’. that’s our band name.” leehan provides, throwing you off as you’re momentarily sidetracked by how deep and smooth his voice is. (are all these men vocalists? also, with an ‘x’— how cheesy can they be?)
“you should come watch us perform.” he smiles widely, eyes creasing and everything. you’re yet again thrown off as he speaks to you with such casual friendliness as though you haven’t practically yelled at all of them and continue to seethe at his guitarist like you want to rip his throat out.
“uh, i…”
“i’m sure miss priss has other things she’d rather do, like dance to swan lake in a feather tutu or something.” taesan finishes your sentence for you, conjuring a string of curses to lace your tongue.
“shut the f—“
“bye, twinkle toes.” he waves you off dismissively, grabbing the neck of his guitar by his multiple ringed fingers as he directs his attention back to his instrument and mic.
“it was nice meeting you, y/n.” riwoo adds somewhat shyly, adjusting the strap of his instrument as well— though much more apologetically.
“see ya’, y/n!” leehan calls before picking up his drumsticks and twirling them in his hands, looking up to taesan for his cue. you watch him cock his chin, the sudden rhythmic pounding of leehan’s drums making you flinch before taesan and riwoo start playing their strings again.
riwoo’s voice starts out soft before slowly raising in volume and you’re shocked by his melodic vocals that contrast so satisfyingly well with the rock instrumentals.
still disgruntled but more off put than anything, you don’t know what more to do than shuffle out of the room, shutting the door behind you as you stare at the air in front of you.
well, guess it’s time to find some earbuds that are sound and pirouette proof.
ㅤㅤ──────────────────────
you got it. you got the lead role.
all the extra (maybe slightly excessive) practicing, late nights and frustration (which would be a lot less if there wasn’t a band next door) paid off.
you’re playing as princess aurora for your dance studio’s performance of ‘the sleeping beauty’, which will be showing at a local theatre next month.
jaehyun, your good friend and fellow dancer who’s always making you smile and lightening sullen moments during classes— is your dance partner, playing as prince désiré.
the second the both of you found out you got lead roles, jaehyun was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, insisting that you go out tonight to celebrate.
which is why you find yourself by jaehyun’s side at ‘sundown lounge’, your favorite bar and hang out spot.
“you look good, by the way!” jaehyun attempts to speak over the loud karaoke, leaning a little closer to your ear as you weave through the crowd.
“thanks!” you turn your head to smile at him over your shoulder, hoping your iridescent eyeshadow twinkles under the lights how you wanted it to.
“you do too.” you compliment before someone’s elbow is jabbed into your stomach, squishing yourself against the wall as you and jaehyun try to make it to the bar to order some drinks. “why is it so busy tonight?”
“i don’t know, maybe it’s happy hour!” jaehyun suggests hopefully, but when you finally reach the counter his theory is proven wrong when you’re told everything’s its original price. regardless, you sip on a strawberry margarita while jaehyun holds a glass of something that looks like muddy water before deciding where to sit.
“wanna go there, near the stage?” he asks, pointing over to a table that’s very near the performance area. you’d rather not have to hear a drunk girl sloppily sing a britney spears song right in your ears but jaehyun finds it hilarious, often unable to resist curling in on himself while giggling uncontrollably— and that always makes you laugh. so you nod your head, jaehyun grabbing your hand to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd before leading you to the table.
there’s only two more songs played before the dj hops on the stage, speaking into the mic. “karaoke will be ending as it’s time for the band of tonight to take the stage. give us a few minutes while the performers are setting up!”
some people in the crowd hoot and holler excitedly as jaehyun turns his head to you. “i wonder what type of band will be playing tonight, last weeks was pretty good.”
“it’s punk rock!” a girl excitedly butts in from the table right next to yours, having accidentally overheard your conversation.
“a rock band?” you ask, somewhat groaned in annoyance as you now have a personal vendetta against the genre. but your tone goes completely unnoticed by the girl as her eyes continue to sparkle with enthusiasm.
“yeah! their music’s really good and they’re all super hot, my favorite one plays the electric guitar.”
“what’s their name?” jaehyun asks, curiosity evidently sparked.
“wxnder!” she answers, and your brows furrow with the familiarity of it. where have you heard that name before?
the girl’s head turns at a sound and her mouth drops open, a small uproar caused as some people in the crowd shriek and cheer. the unexpected noise has you flinching before looking towards the stage— and your jaw drops too, but not in a good way.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” you say to yourself in shock, watching as riwoo sits down his amp and plugs it into the wall.
“what?…what!” jaehyun whisper-yells, grabbing onto your arm to try and get your attention.
leehan appears next, sitting down behind the drum set that’s already on stage and wagging his head to adjust his hair, causing another small wave of squeals.
then a broad back covered by a black leather jacket abstracts your view, and he doesn’t even need to turn around for you to know who he is— but he does anyway. the way taesan almost immediately catches your gaze amongst the crowd is infuriating, smirking while glancing down at how close your table is to the stage before looking teasingly into your eyes again.
and it makes you pissed, unbelievably so— yet you feel your cheeks burn as you can’t help but think about how hot he looks, the stage lights glinting off his lip ring and drawing your eyes towards them.
have his lips always been so…plump?
taesan winks at you before looking down to tune his guitar, hands gripping the neck of it. veins pop out from the contours of his knuckles; long, thick fingers adorned with silver rings picking at the strings.
fuck…
“y/n?” jaehyun tries again, and you finally respond with the shake of your head, downing the remainder of your drink like it’s a shot.
“it’s nothing.” you insist.
after a few minutes of setting up, tuning, and making sure everything’s in order; taesan introduces the group (not that he exactly needs to, since it seems the bar is full of their fans), saying that their opening song will be ‘take my tears’, a song he wrote himself.
usually you and jaehyun talk throughout a band's live performance, as they’ll be playing all night— but you can’t seem to look away as you listen to the lyrics and how they perform.
it’s entrancing— much different than when you’re trying to ignore them through the studio walls. the song is somewhat emotional, beautiful; yet it also has such a fun and freeing feel. or maybe it’s just the way they sing it— how taesan sings it, his body grooving and head nodding to the beat of their sound. the lyrics aren’t what you’d expect from him— the guy you thought he was, and it leaves you wondering what more there is to him that you wouldn’t expect.
your heart skips a beat, and you’re not sure if it’s just the thrill of the rock music or if it’s because of him; the annoying, pompous punk who suddenly looks so sexy when he’s performing. (and never any other time. definitely not.)
you’ve just finished your second margarita and are a little buzzed by the time their set is finished, the night passing faster than you realized.
jaehyun is eating on a basket of fries, yapping away so fervently that he doesn’t even notice how you’ve gotten up from the table and are approaching taesan— who again locks eyes with you as he walks down the steps of the stage to meet you halfway.
“so, what did you think?” he asks, a little out of breath from the long performance, having had no breaks in between songs.
he stands closely so you can hear him— and it’s enough for you to smell his cologne; to see the way sweat clings to the skin of his neck; deep breaths coming out in puffs as his chest expands. something about it all has an effect on you— or maybe it’s something in the air, because taesan doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, admiring your legs in your denim mini skirt.
“you..you guys were amazing.” you compliment, sounding a little out of breath yourself.
taesan makes a ‘hm’ sound, faintly smiling at you while biting his lip— and you swear you see the glint of metal on his tongue.
your body heats up as you wonder if his tongue is pierced too, what kind of things he could do to you with it, what it would feel like against your skin— before you frantically try and dismiss the increasingly dirty thoughts, reminding yourself that the man you’re fantasizing about is right in front of you.
“i didn’t think you’d actually come.” taesan says, speaking in a teasing tone that you swear seems flirty paired with the slight quirk of his brow.
“how’d you even know we’d be here? did you stalk us, princess?”
okay, surely that was flirting, right?
you’re about to playfully roll your eyes, paired with a smart little comment and deny that’d you’d ever be interested enough to ‘stalk’ them— until the girl that spoke to you about wxnder earlier suddenly appears, putting herself between you and taesan.
“you were absolutely amazing, taesan.” the girl croons, confidently placing her hand on his forearm as she leans all up in his personal space.
and you expect him to shrug her off, either politely or not-so politely establish some distance between them. but again, he surprises you— in a way you absolutely hate.
he smirks at her, in just the same way he did to you just moments ago— and leans even closer to her face, unneededly close.
“aren’t you sweet. thank you so much.”
“no problem.” the girl smiles cattily, clearly enjoying the attention.
something in your heart burns, and that familiar feeling of uncontrollable annoyance comes back even worse than before.
“do you think i could get your autograph?”
“sure, princess.” taesan answers lowly— and that does it.
without even feeling the urge to look back and see that girl all over him, you’re gone, picking up a drunk jaehyun by his arm.
“wh— where are we going?” jaehyun drunkenly slurs, eyes glossed over as they look at you.
“to get an uber home.” you answer firmly, eyes hard as you once again weave through the crowd.
you feel eyes on your back, but you ignore it until you get to the door, turning your head as jaehyun leans half of his body weight against you. even amongst all the faces, you and taesan’s eyes meet easily, his arm now slung around the girl’s waist as she whispers something in his ear.
his lips are in that same smirk— like he’s taunting you, and you scoff, dragging jaehyun and yourself out of the bar.
you can’t believe you were actually feeling into him— but you surely don’t have to worry about that now.
he’s just confirmed that he is in fact what you thought he was: an absolute ass and a cocky player who sings on stage to get girls in his bed.
well, fuck him. he can get his dick wet with anyone he wants but it sure as hell won’t be you.
ㅤㅤ──────────────────────
the very next day you’re back at the dance studio, rehearsing for the upcoming performance.
jaehyun whines the whole day, saying that it’s somehow your fault that he got drunk off his ass— but despite that, he does incredibly well during class. you do also, but unbeknownst to you, your friend wonders why you seem so tense— like something has been bothering you all day.
“shouldn’t you go home and rest, y/n?” jaehyun asks you at the end of class hours. everyone else is packing up their totes and leaving, yet you’re stood at the ballet barre doing leg exercises.
“i’ll be fine. practice makes perfect.” you insist, keeping your eyes on your form in the mirrored wall.
“well..just don’t overwork yourself, okay?” jaehyun sweetly tells you, and you flash him a thankful smile through the mirror.
“don’t worry, yunie, i wont. see you tomorrow.”
if it weren’t for the absolute beast you’re known to be in the studio, jaehyun would force you out of your pointe shoes and drag you home himself— but you don’t seem even a little bit tired, and it appears as though you have some steam to blow off.
so jaehyun and you exchange goodbyes before he leaves you in the empty classroom. (yes, completely empty— aside from the lady at the front desk. no one is as obsessive as you to want to stay even another second practicing when you already have for the whole day— on a saturday night, no less.)
you spend the next thirty minutes going over the steps you learned today that you don’t have down perfectly yet, having small cool downs in the form of stretching in between.
‘entrée d’aurore’ is still playing on your phone when you hear the distant voices of what must be the front desk lady and someone else speaking. you wonder if somebody has returned to get some extra practice in as well, and as you hear footsteps approaching, you remain sitting on the floor doing toe touches.
the door to the classroom opens, echoing slightly in the big, empty space— you lift your head to see someone who definitely is not a part of the sleeping beauty cast.
“y/n?” taesan says somewhat quietly, eyes looking around the big room that only holds one ballerina, who looks small in comparison to the high ceilings and vacant space.
your eyebrows furrow, somewhat irritated to see him while also being surprised— not only by his presence but by the unfamiliar way he almost looks sheepish: barely taking a few steps inside the classroom, looking around like he expects someone or yourself to scold him and kick him out.
“…don’t tell me you auditioned.” you joke, although it’s said casually. your eyes only scrutinize him for a second before you look back down to your own hands as you stretch them across your straightened legs and to your toes.
taesan has seen you a handful of times when you’re in your casual practice wear, but what you’re clad in for an official performance class is a little different. you’re wearing a black leotard with a little mesh skirt, a cropped shirt overtop, tights, and black leg warmers.
you look..really cute. even when you’re pretending to ignore him.
“no. the lady at the front desk said you were in here.” he explains lamely, all his usual snarky remarks not coming to his thoughts as he watches you in your element.
“good. i don’t want to see you in tights anyway. not your aesthetic.”
“sure you don’t.”
your head snaps to look at him before you can think not to react, cheeks heating up as you see the twinkle in his eyes and the small smile he tries to conceal by pressing down his lips.
you sigh as though you’re bothered— because you are— obviously…and get up from your floor stretches to walk over to the ballet barre again. taesan follows you.
“i don’t know why you’re here but i’m practicing. you should leave.”
“who was that with you at the bar last night?”
your cold indifference is broken at the unexpected question, your expression clearly confused as you look at the man standing beside you in the mirrored wall.
“what, jaehyun? he’s my friend. he wanted to go out to celebrate our castings. y’know, for the performance i’m trying to practice for right now?”
“so it was a date.” taesan remarks, eyes hardening right in front of you— and there’s that angered burn in your chest again, your hands squeaking from how tightly they hold onto the barre as your expression turns sour.
“who i date isn’t any of your business to speculate. i haven’t asked you what you and that fangirl got up to last night, have i?” you snap, raising a challenging brow at him— but it only makes him shake his head in unbelief, staring at you like you’re an absolute idiot.
“what? y/n, i don’t even know her name.”
“yes, well, i’m not surprised over that. i’m guessing it’s not very important for you to learn a girl’s name— as long as you’re in between her legs by the end of the night.”
his hand is on your shoulder, turning you around to face him abruptly as he stands closely, right in front of you.
“what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you think i fucked her?”
“i don’t want to know what you di—“
“shut the fuck up.” taesan orders, his fingers curling over your wrists making you wonder when they got there in the first place.
“make me.” someone (you?) says, and then you feel the cold press of taesan’s lip ring against your mouth.
it’s firm at first: the way his lips slam into yours, how both of your expressions still look pissed off at each other, even with both of your eyes closed. but eventually you seem to realize that taesan is actually kissing you— and then you’re melting into him, sighing as you feel his touch soften in response.
his kiss quickly turns demanding, lips moving against yours in pursuit of your taste. you squeak when his teeth bite at your bottom lip, not knowing you’ve fallen right into his trap until his tongue has already seized the opportunity and invaded your mouth. turns out you weren’t wrong when you thought you spotted a ball stud piercing on taesan’s tongue, you can most definitely feel it when he brushes it against your own appendage.
your head is pushed against the mirror from his vigor and you whimper, never having felt so dominated simply by a man’s kiss; taesan explores your mouth like he owns it, like it’s his, and it makes your core pulse, a flicker of neediness growing.
the rough groan he lets out as his hands move to roam and grasp at your waist hints at his possessiveness, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin material of your leotard.
“didn’t fuck her. didn’t want to.” he murmurs between the eager movements of his lips. “just wanted to make you jealous.”
“wh— why?” you manage breathily, taesan pressing his body against yours as your hands move to brace yourself on the barre.
“because i like you, y/n.” he smiles and huffs in disbelief at your denseness.
“i want to take you on a date— whether you let me between your legs or not.” he smirks, referring to your earlier harsh remark and making you cringe at the reference.
“i…i’d like that.” you say shyly, looking at him through your lashes. “the date— and..and the other thing too.”
“the other thing?” taesan repeats, confused as you only avoid his gaze, not further explaining— but funnily enough, your sudden bashful attitude is what makes it click in his mind.
“princess?” he experimentally calls, pleased when you automatically lift your head to look at him. his tongue unconsciously peaks out to play with his lip ring as he cockily grins, hand creeping up from your waist to pinch your chin between his fingers.
“why don’t you be a big girl and tell me what you mean?”
your nose crinkles, a pathetic attempt at defiance amidst your embarrassment. taesan’s other hand pinches the tender skin of your thigh, causing you to flinch and whimper at the slight pain as he makes a disapproving sound under his breath.
“come on, y/n. be good or i won’t give you what you want.”
“i— i want you...i meant—”
taesan does anything but go easy on you, eyes dark with mischief as he lowers his head to nibble at your neck. you squeeze your thighs together, looking for relief from the way your pussy now pulses prominently.
his hands move in tandem, one cradling along your jawline while the other brushes up and down your thigh, making you annoyed at your tights with how they keep you from feeling the cold brush of his rings against your skin.
you want them off. you want taesan to take them off. so you admit it.
“want you to fuck me. please, taesan.”
“awe,” he coos. “aren’t you a sweet one.”
you swear the tone in which he says those words turn you into goo, your hands releasing the barre to desperately hold onto his shirt.
“please.” you beg, finding yourself only wanting more praise— more of him— just anything he’s willing to give you.
taesan is able to identify the look in your eyes, staring at your lips and leaning down so slowly, making you whine at his teasing until he finally grants you mercy and kisses you again.
it’s dirtier than before: a lot more spit, moans, and movement from both of your tongues. taesan’s leg leans against the wall between your thighs, and whether it was his purpose to give you relief or not, you take the opportunity and hesitantly grind your core against his ripped jeans.
the pleasure is immediate, sending a tingle up your spine that has you arching against his chest, forgetting any shame as you begin to earnestly grind your hips against him. the thin layers covering your core paired with the roughness of taesan’s denim creates a wonderful friction, feeling how wet you’ve become in your panties.
“shit, you’re such a slut for it.” taesan remarks in genuine awe after breaking the kiss to watch the little show you’re putting on. his eyes take in every movement, from the way you rock against him to how your eyes squeeze shut and you tilt your head back.
the previous song playing on your phone has long since finished as some other tune now plays from your playlist— taesan suddenly becoming aware of it and that he has a girl whimpering and riding his thigh in the middle of a dance classroom.
he abruptly pulls away, the presence between your legs disappearing as you conjure a bratty sound from your throat.
“y/n,” taesan scolds in a harsh whisper. “did you forget where we are?”
“thought you said you’d fuck me if i was good?” you argue, flashing him a defiant expression.
“you think using my thigh to get yourself off without my permission is being good?”
your eyes widen, not expecting him to call you out on it.
looking to the floor and hearing taesan’s responding laugh at your childishness, it only makes the desire to act out against him stronger— you’re just not sure how you can do it in this moment.
“get your things. we can go to my place.” taesan offers, your stomach fluttering at the idea as you do what he says— moving to grab your phone, bag, and change out of your ballet wear.
your heart is pounding out of your chest and what’s between your legs hasn’t calmed down at all either by the time you walk out of the dance studio and sit in the passenger seat of taesan’s car.
and the drive is just as excruciating.
the man seems hellbent on teasing you by not giving you a drop of attention, keeping his eyes on the road while some rock song plays through the speakers. and you know he knows what he’s doing, how you can’t keep his eyes off of him, because the corner of his mouth is subtly turned.
you see no reason to hide it since he’s already aware, so you stare at him— once again admiring how hot his hands look wrapped around the steering wheel, the contours of his jawline and perfect side profile illuminated by the low hanging sun.
your eyes keep wandering— down, down, down until you get to his lap, where you see the large bulge tenting his pants.
your mouth waters and your hands twitch, wondering if he’s really as big as he looks and hoping you’ll get to find out by the end of tonight.
then you’re struck with an idea, recognizing the perfect opportunity you have right now— and you reach your hand out confidently to grope him over his pants.
you’re so proud at the way it makes taesan softly gasp under his breath, back stiffening at the unexpected touch. you mold your hand over his clothed dick, rubbing and gently squeezing— in all the right ways apparently, as you feel him twitch in your hands— even through the thick denim fabric.
“y/n, stop it.” taesan grits, and you hear the squeak of what you guess is his hands gripping tightly around the steering wheel. you don’t look at him until after you’ve located the head of his cock, rubbing over it with your thumb and meeting his fiery glare with a teasing bite to your lip— clearly pleased with yourself.
taesan is visibly pissed at your blatant act of defiance, but he gives you one more chance in the form of a threat.
“you’re not very patient, are you, princess? keep touching my dick like that and you won’t even get to see it out of my pants.”
your hand immediately stills— the man releasing a huff of disbelief when you pull your hand away completely to lay both of your hands on your lap, avoiding his gaze as you stare ahead.
not another word is shared, taesan enjoying the way you nervously squirm in your seat as he finally pulls into his apartment’s parking lot.
“stay.” he simply orders once he’s parked, and you’re left confused as he exits the car, only to watch him come around and open your door for you— even going as far to unbuckle your seatbelt and keep a firm hold around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs of his building. it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach yet your insides twist with nervous anticipation— because he does it all with the same stern eyes he spoke to you with as he threatened not to fuck you.
when the key is twisted and his front door lightly squeaks open— his residence somehow looks exactly how you thought; dark, moody, vintage rock posters and memorabilia hanging on the walls.
you expect him to be cheesy and press you against his door the moment it’s closed, but he doesn’t— instead walking over leisurely to his couch and sitting down, legs widely spread in an oddly commanding and powerful way.
your eyes widen at the arousing image, feeling yourself become sheepish as taesan lets his eyes roam over your form without shame.
“why do you look so shy now? you were such a disobedient little slut in the car.”
you swallow, hardly able but trying to hold eye contact with him as your face heats up in a delicious sort of shame.
taesan sighs as though he’s annoyed with your silence, patting one thigh with his hand.
“come here.”
“…h— huh?”
“don’t make me say it again, y/n.” he orders— and next thing you know, your body is moving to straddle the leg he’s directed you to sit on.
“there we go. guess princesses can take orders sometimes, hm?” he rhetorically asks, but you’re nodding your head anyway.
taesan just stares at you for a bit, admiring how pretty you look sitting and waiting for what he’ll do next, so different from the bratty attitude you had during the car ride.
then his hands rest on your bare waist, giving him easy access as you had disregarded your leotard before leaving the studio, now only wearing your cropped shirt and athletic shorts.
you’re unable to conceal the shuddered inhale you take as taesan’s hands creep upward, seeing him smirk at the sound before his hands slip under your shirt and reach your tits.
“no bra?” he teases, biting his lip as his fingers pinch at your hard nipples.
“n— no,” you struggle out, flinching lightly as taesan plays with your tits without any restraint, like your body is his toy. the contrast of his cool rings against your heated skin causes goosebumps to rise on the surface of your arms, chest pushing further into his hands. “didn’t think there was any p—..point.”
you watch as taesan shakes his head like he’s disappointed, yet he’s smiling darkly.
“dirty girl.” he remarks, giving a firmer pinched tug to your hard bud and forcing a whimper to escape from between your lips. “just take everything off then.”
you’re quicker to do what he says this time, only letting your sudden shy attitude make you hesitate for a moment before getting up from his lap to discard your clothing to his floor, keeping eye contact with taesan as best as you can manage— as he seems pleased when you do. he lets out a hungry exhale when you take off your shirt and your tits are revealed to his eyes, hand leisurely jerking himself off over his pants by the time your shorts are removed— leaving you only in your underwear.
“is that a thong, princess?” taesan asks breathily, eyes slightly widening in what you think might be surprise.
“yeah? it’s…it’s what i always wear underneath my leotard.” you confirm, somewhat confused— until taesan speaks again, hand moving up and down his dick faster.
“fuck, just— just didn’t expect such a prissy girl like you to— shit, i don’t know. you’re so hot.”
you smile— and it’s equally sexy and cute in a way that makes taesan feel like he’s going to go insane if you don’t get back on his lap right away. your fingers slip beneath the band of your panties to tug them off, but he stops you before you can.
“don’t. keep them on, wanna see you make a mess in them for me.”
a part of you— the bratty side— wants to say you already have, the dark spot from your leaking arousal evidence of it. but you don’t, the desire to listen actually winning over as you remove your hands from your hips and straddle his thigh again. you hover this time, not fully sitting down as you’re embarrassed for him to feel your wetness directly against his bare skin, which are revealed through the large holes in his jeans.
but taesan catches on immediately, tutting fondly as his hands squeeze at your hips.
“all the way.” he drawls, like he’s giving a ditzy dog a command they’re struggling to understand— and it makes your stomach flip, hurrying to do as he says.
you know he feels it, how your panties clinging to your wet pussy lips press against his thigh— and as he bites at his lip, drawing your eyes to his twinkling piercing yet again— your face burns as you’re sure he’s probably looking at the glistening residue you’ve surely left on his skin.
“good girl.” he mutters roughly, you whining in response as your hands fist into the material of his shirt.
you feel like such a slut, sitting on a man’s lap almost completely bare while he’s fully clothed, your needy pussy slowly drenching his thigh in your juices; and you sound like one too as taesan leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth.
you gasp and stutter— unsure of what you’re even trying to say as taesan chuckles around your bud, continuing to flick and roll his pierced tongue over you. the contrast of his warm appendage and the occasional brush of round metal against your skin makes you sensitive, hole clenching around nothing with every other swipe of his tongue.
“like that?” he whispers before switching to give your other breast attention.
“yes,” you quietly moan, wrapping your arms around to grip and play with the hair at the nape of his neck, subsequently pushing his face deeper into your tits.
he likes that— if his responding groan is anything to judge by, his hands pulling your hips forward and drawing a more unabashed sound from your lips at the movement.
“use me. get your little pussy off on my thigh.”
“fuck— yes,” you obey, rocking your hips and finding a rhythm.
“shit. that’s it, baby.” he coos, his hand suddenly reigning down against your ass a contrast to his soft tone as it leaves your skin tingling with heat. “just a few little touches is all it takes to get the brat out of you, huh?”
you scoff at that— though it’s interrupted by a moan when taesan flexes his thigh. shame burns your skin and his little remark makes you want to act out again, but all you can do is grind your pussy against him, gasping and going faster whenever your covered clit gets brushed over just right.
your hands that are still tangled in his hair pull to disconnect his mouth from your tits, leaning down to kiss him instead. taesan doesn’t scold you for the demanding gesture— but he does lift a hand to grasp it over your throat. he doesn’t squeeze, but the simple act makes you feel so good and dominated— and his other hand which gropes at your ass and snaps the string waistband of your thong has you falling further into delirium.
“please— please, tae. wanna cum.”
“then cum.” he says simply, and when you finally open your squeezed shut eyes, he’s staring at your desperate face with amusement— and just like that, you’re pissed.
“taesan! i can’t! not— not enough!” you whine, not even able to think about how pathetic you sound.
“you’re cumming by my thigh or not at all. this is what you get for acting like a fucking whore while i was driving.”
you whisper out a sigh, and it’s so broken and helpless as you rock your hips earnestly against him that he almost feels bad— but the bigger part of him is proud; proud in a dark and twisted way at how he’s dwindled the ballerina down to nothing but a mindless slut that’s practically crying with the need to cum.
another spank is delivered to your ass and you flinch, taesan’s hand around your neck getting a little firmer as he forces your teary eyes to look up at him— and you feel like a dog in heat as your hips never stop their efforts to bring you to release.
“please.” you beg, and taesan’s eyes turn hazey at the beautiful sound.
“come on, princess. i know you can do it for me.” he encourages— and turns out that’s all you needed.
taesan gets an up close view as your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as he feels you ruin your panties even further.
his thigh is dripping as you keep rutting your hips against him, letting out small whimpers as you work yourself through your high. taesan grants you mercy at the very end, helping you grind your hips before eventually slowing you to a stop.
then he’s picking you up and carrying you into what you can only assume is his bedroom— because in the next moment he’s laying you down on a black comforter-covered mattress and stripping off his clothes.
you’re panting, still catching your breath— but you still manage to make a somewhat teasing comment as the man’s bare chest is revealed to you.
“no tattoos?”
taesan looks up at you right after pulling his shirt over his head, black hair disheveled and brushing over his eyes as he smirks silently at you and combs it out of his face.
“i thought all emo’s had tattoos.” you tack on— and that gets him to respond.
“emo?! i’m not emo, i’m fucking punk!” he argues, somewhat offended but mostly amused as he works on removing his jeans.
“emo, punk, metalhead. it’s all the same thing.” you offhandedly say.
“…i’m about to go soft.” taesan threatens.
“kidding!” you laugh, sitting up on your elbows— and the smile is completely wiped off your face when taesan removes his boxers and his dick is finally freed, slapping against his abs.
“shit..” you whisper to yourself, watching as taesan rolls a condom on before climbing on the bed and caging you underneath him with his body.
“need me to stretch you first, princess?” taesan sweetly asks after peeling off your drenched panties, hand brushing up and down your hip soothingly.
as much as you want his sexy fingers in your cunt— you can’t wait any longer, spreading your legs for him as you flash him your best puppy-dog eyes.
“no. please just fuck me, taesanie. need you.”
“god…” taesan sighs, not making you wait anymore as he lines his head to your entrance before pushing in slowly. “oh, fuck. you’re so tight, princess.”
your chest heaves as he pushes into the hilt, your hands gripping against the sheets.
“move. fuck me hard, please. want it rough.”
you think you hear taesan mutter something about you being a dream before his pulling out till just the tip is stretching your hole— and slamming back inside.
you both turn a little animalistic and desperate, learning how the other feels and bodies being taken over by the pleasure of it. taesan’s cock stretches you out so good— he fucks you so good. the rocking of his bed frame hits against his wall, and you have a fleeting thought about if the walls are thin and if he’ll get a noise complaint— before all that is forgotten as taesan takes hold of one of your thighs and bends it against your chest.
“feel it, baby? feel how fucking bad i want you?” taesan groans between his teeth, hand squeezing tightly around your leg unconsciously— and you secretly hope it leaves mark indentations from his rings; tiny bruises from his fingers you can admire the next day.
you only can respond so his deeply uttered words with a broken moan, and taesan only fucks you harder.
“that’s it, princess got what she wanted.” he coos, eyes surprising you by how they turn a little soft— though the movement of his hips certainly never do. “always give my princess what she wants.”
you whine at that, grabbing him by the shoulders to ask for a kiss.
“fuck, you drive me crazy, y/n.” he breathes before leaning down to yet again give you what you ask for.
“but i like that about you.” he finishes between kisses.
your thighs are trembling in pleasure, sweat is lining your hairline and glistening from taesan’s chest— and you can’t take it anymore, wrapping your legs around taesan’s waist as your nails dig into his back.
“can i come, please? oh, fff— please?”
“such a good fucking slut when you got a cock in you, huh? can’t believe my princess likes it rough.”
his hand manages to squeeze between your bodies despite how tightly you cling to him, his fingers finding your clit and tracing shapes over it.
“cum, baby. get it all over my sheets.”
your body going stiff before trembling uncontrollably against him, all while your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock— it brings taesan to release as well, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow each other's cries of pleasure.
the come down is slow, taesan rolling over and pulling your body on top of his so he doesn’t accidentally fall against you in exhaustion.
your deep breaths puff warmly against his neck as he cradles you on his chest, hands swirling patterns over your back absentmindedly.
“that was…amazing.” you say around a sigh, enjoying the comforting aroma of taesan’s cologne imbedded into his sheets.
“yeah…are you done?” taesan asks, still breathy yet curious— and you raise your head to look at his face.
“you want to go again?”
“well,” taesan starts, somewhat sheepishly— yet his eyes hold that constant playful sparkle. “just thought you might be curious what it feels like to get eaten out with a piercing.”
your eyes widen, clearly shocked by not only the question but at how correct he is.
“come on, princess. you’re not slick. don’t think i didn’t notice you staring at it when we were at the bar. plus, you did say you wanted me between your legs—“
“can you stop bringing that up!?”
note ; and for anyone wondering, yes, taesan went to reader’s ballet performance. (and yes, he got jealous watching her and jaehyun dancing on stage together…part two material?🤭)
all taglists (perm/fluff/smut) are open if anyone would like to be added! age must be in bio/somewhere on pinned post if you want to be tagged in perm/smut taglist.
December is coming. The advent calendars are already on sale in numerous stores, something for everyone, so we can look forward to…..
What can we look forward to?
What can we look forward to in these dark days when our hearts are full of sadness, when genocides continue and our planet is warming up more and more?
summary: a new job as a barista should be easy enough, right? except it gets a whole lot more complicated when the coffee shop's most loved client just decides he has to have you OR richboy!jk falls for barista!reader and refuses to give up.
content: richboy!jk, downbad!jk, barista!reader, sub-ish!jk, reader plays hard to get just for plot purposes, jk is down horribly bad for reader, afab reader, smut, dry humping, jk's the embodiment of needy, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 8.8k
a/n: another silly and unserious jungkook fanfic<3
masterlist | patreon
"Anyways just be careful with how many pumps you add to drinks. Customers can be extremely sensitive about that kind of stuff. Trust me," rambled on your new trainer, Jen? Jess? Something like that.
You watched disinterested, already having had a menial barista job in the past and being well aware of the high expectations of disgruntled customers. You, too, had been verbally harassed by one too many people in dire need of a drink far too specific for the average person to memorize. It was still appreciated, though, the effort she took in walking you through every step to ensure you did good at your new position.
Despite your focus on the task being demonstrated to you not being at its best, you did take notice when Jean(?) stopped her mentoring and instead spilled some of the drink she was currently making, clearly now equally as distracted as you. Her focus was no longer on the counter you were practicing drinks on, but instead looking past you and towards the counter a few steps behind you.
You meant to call out her name to question her, but without an angle on her name tag or any confidence in actually remembering the correct name, you simply grabbed at a nearby towel and cleaned off the mess, not bothering to look at whatever was distracting her. It was too early for you to bother.
Snapping out of her trance mere seconds later, she tapped at your shoulder urgently, her voice now a whisper as she leaned close for you to hear what she was about to say.
"Oh my God, don't look, but that's Jungkook," she whispered excitedly, as if letting you in on information you had any context about — hint: you had no idea who nor what she was referring to.
Turning around, you eyed another one of your new coworkers tending to the line at the counter, but more specifically helping out some guy. Focusing your eyes on him, you could now understand why his presence had caused a short-circuit in Jane (?) and why she felt the need to announce his presence to you.
The distraction in question presented itself in the form of a very tall and fit guy, one with a fully tattooed sleeve and dreamy black curls. Other outstanding attributes were the very obvious muscles encompassing his entire body and the shine that came from the various piercings on his face. In short, the man was nothing short of a dream straight from a Pinterest board — and the charisma radiating from his mere presence did not help matters.
"He's a regular. No one really knows much about him other than he's rich. He tips like 200% above his total," continued June, still leaning in your direction to whisper.
You felt bad at how obvious you were whilst staring at the boy, but he was likely the prettiest one you'd seen in a while. The blank expression in your stare did not tell on you, but it did not deny the fact that you were staring.
"We take turns serving him," your coworker informed you, "Sometimes we fight over it. He's a natural flirt, but he does it with everyone, so we're not sure if he's taken or not," she proceeded to tell you benign details about him that had you nodding along as you continued to stare at him.
The usually fast-paced place seemed to slow down when he entered the coffee shop, with most baristas' attentions going to him rather than their jobs. If he was aware of it, he was good at ignoring it, instead giving a flashy smile to the lucky barista currently tending to him. From the short distance between you, you were unable to hear his conversation, but you still had a perfect view of him as he simply existed. He could easily see you, as there was nothing in his way, but he hadn't yet, somehow oblivious to the attention he was receiving from all other baristas in the house.
As time stood still for everyone else, it continued normally for him. He paid for his drink, having it quickly bypass all other prior orders and made immediately by one of the many girls fawning at him. God, even the two baristas working the drive-thru had taken a short break from it go gawk.
It wasn't until moments later that Jungkook seemed to get a taste of his own medicine, with his own time suddenly coming to a halt. As he turned around to leave, sweet drink now in hand, his eyes incidentally met yours, causing him to pause mid turn and do a double take in order to catch your eyes again.
It was ridiculous, really. Almost too identical to those moments you'd see in those dumb romcoms you used to enjoy as a teenager. Except this was actually happening. And it was happening to you. As all your new coworkers watched his every move with extreme attention.
His eyes widened a bit. It was something the naked eye might've missed, but not you (nor the other five girls watching). His head tilted a bit to the side — maybe in curiosity due to not having seen you there before (Joanne did mention he was a regular). A ghost of a smirk took over the natural smile that had been on his lips since arrival. And lastly, a nod was sent your way — a nod in acknowledgment to your presence, but also with a flirtatious hint to it. It was hard to describe. You simply had to be there.
You remained watching him with a poker face throughout. The same poker face you'd had since clocking in to work that morning. It wasn't that you were mean or not a people person, you simply hated work. You'd been told you had a bit of a resting bitch face and gave a mean impression to those who didn't know you, but that was beside the point. The pretty boy whose attention you'd caught had gotten lucky, though, as he at least received the ghost of a smile from you before he left.
The first thing to occur upon his departure was a squeal from your left. The perpetrator? Julie (or whatever her name was).
"Oh my god!," she let out, grabbing onto your shoulder so you'd face her, "Did you see that?"
"See what?", you asked, not 100% sure of what had just happened.
"He totally checked you out . He's never done that before. Maybe he likes you? God, don't let Lila find out, she's got a huge crush on him," she informed you, once again assuming you knew who the hell Lila was.
"Hah, I think he might've just been surprised to see a new face," you downplayed, "What were you explaining before he got here? The thing with the pumps and the-"
"He comes here every morning at 8 or so. How about you take his order tomorrow? Y'know, just to test my theory," she suggested, disregarding your question.
"Orders? It's my first day here. Isn't training like two weeks lon-"
"It's fine! I'll be shadowing you. You'll do great! Now let's get back to your training-"
"Jane! I need more change at drive thru!", called one of the drive thru girls, interrupting your conversation.
"Coming, Lila!", she responded, giving you a polite smile before handing you the shaker she had just been holding, "Just practice some drinks how I taught you. I'll be right back to show you how to work the register."
So her name was Jane. And that was Lila.
At least you learned something today.
The subject of Jungkook stayed for a while after he left.
As you got to know a few of your other coworkers during your shift, you came to learn more useless details about him. Useless due to the fact that none of your coworkers had ever actually had a real conversation with him. It appeared as if he was always in a rush any time he stopped by. This bit of knowledge made it even more scandalous among your coworkers that Jungkook had stopped to blatantly check you out before continuing with his busy day.
And so the next day, you were admittedly a bit nervous when they'd suddenly prepped you for cashier duties only one day on the job. You'd done this before, but it was always slightly nerve wracking working a new cash register system and dealing with an entirely different hurdle of customers. That and the fact that you knew all your coworkers were awaiting the moment in which Jungkook came back, only this time he'd get a one-on-one with you.
For one, you didn't believe the suspicion that he liked you.
It was impossible to assert that from the simple one-over he'd given you. But then again, you didn't know the guy as well as your coworkers claimed to.
It was at 8:17AM that the theory was finally tested, when a certain heartthrob walked through the glass doors with all the charismatic energy a person could possibly carry.
He looked as handsome as he did the day prior, especially because now you had a beeline view of him, simply waiting for his arrival on the other side of the counter. His hair was wavier today somehow, and he donned a tight short-sleeve that gave you the perfect view of a sleeve full of colorful tattoos — fuck. His jeans were loose but still gave you a nice view of his physique. It was easy to tell the man was ripped to hell, yet another probable reason as to why your coworkers were all in love with him. Chunky shoes and shiny piercings accessorized his outfit, bringing an edge of grunginess you typically enjoyed in guys.
All things considered, he seemed just like your type.
However, the concept of even crushing on a guy that had every other girl at his feet sounded far too exhausting. You were just not into the idea of chasing after a guy who had a line of women waiting for their turn (or just chasing any guy in general). Today you'd simply serve his drink to prove a point and put an end to any possibility of even a mere flirtation with Jungkook before it even began.
Somehow, he hadn't taken note of you until reaching the cash register, too distracted by his phone as he made what was likely a familiar path for him — he was a regular, after all.
When he reached you, finally putting his phone away, he reacted similarly to last time, doing a double take before letting his eyes land on you for a more permanent stay. His mouth opened and closed a few times, hands reaching up as if undecided on what to entertain themselves with and remaining awkwardly on the air. A gulp took over his voice before he shook his head slightly to clear his head.
"Hi," he began, "You're new."
"Hi, yeah. What can I get for you today?," you got straight to the point.
As flattering as his reaction to you was, a line would probably form any minute now, and you'd already been thrown to the wolves, so you needed to move things along. There's never any time to waste in customer service.
"Oh, uh, the other baristas know my usual — but, uh you're new, like you just said, so, it's uhm just an americano. Medium, please," he rambled, not smooth like you'd expected someone as handsome and put together to be.
Your chuckle couldn't be helped, but at least it wasn't the girlish giggle you truly felt like letting out in the presence of such a man, "Yeah, okay. That'll be $4.95. Anything else?"
He stared at you blankly for a few moments, two silent blinks trapping his large eyes before clearing his throat, causing you to look up from the cash register to give him a curious look, hoping that was enough of a silent indicator at him to speak up.
"Your number, maybe?"
Admittedly, this caught you off guard.
You were surprised at the swift shift in confidence in Jungkook. Literal moments ago he was stammering his way through a sentence, yet the second time you looked up from the cash register he began to sport a cocky smile, confidently leaning against the counter separating you.
"God, you're gorgeous," he then added, eyes moony as he stared at you. It was said with a clear lack of thoughts in his brain, though also with an air of confidence, almost as if he were stating an irrefutable fact.
"Uhm, thanks," you mumbled, taking the money he was currently handing you with an awkward smile, "Okay, got a $5," you recited the usual cashier dialogue as you dug into the register for his change, "Here's your change. Your drink will be ready in a few minutes."
He took it, eyes still glued to yours with a dreamy smile on his face. Tilting his head to the side, his smile widened, "So, no number?", he asked with a teasing tone.
"Sorry, not allowed to give it to customers," you lied, "What's your name? Need it for the order," you asked despite already knowing his name. Disclosing this information would've only made him more adamant in asking for your information.
"That's a lie. Most of your coworkers have slipped me their numbers before," he called you out nonchalantly before giving you his name without any further argument, "What's your name? You don't have a name tag on," he seemed very okay with continuing with the small talk as much as possible, ignoring how your eyes looked past him to eye the line that had began forming.
You sighed, noting how settled he was on his spot, with his arms now leaning comfortably on the counter. He was clearly not going to leave with at least something from you.
You gave him your name, adding reluctance to your tone, attempting to send a message of disinterest.
Lifting his hand, he reached to yours which was currently lying on top of the screen of the cash register, softly grabbing its limp form to offer you a handshake. You did not grasp his hand in yours in return, making the handshake one-sided.
"Very nice meeting you. You'll be seeing me very often, gorgeous," he winked, dropping a bill way too high for a $4.99 order into the small tips cup on the counter and finally walking away as suave as humanly possible.
Internally, you groaned, knowing this was going to be the topic of conversation as soon as you clocked out for your break.
As expected, a few of your coworkers squealed at you immediately after Jungkook's departure, rambling about how clear it was that he was into you. And yes, that much was obvious — especially considering the large $20 tip he'd left you for merely taking his order. It was difficult to not give into their encouragement to ask him out or to at least respond to his advancements next time.
Most of your coworkers expressed happiness for you, simply enjoying the sight of the pretty boy coming around on a daily basis, while one or two seemed to grow an immediate dislike for you upon his sudden interest in you. Regardless, you wished to steer clear of any emotions his crush on you could bring. All you wanted out of this job was to clock in and clock out and call it a day.
The next time you saw him was two days later when you were finally scheduled to work again. Once more, you found yourself at the cashier once again. Despite it being your first week, your trainer had decided that you seemed apt for the task after the test trial with Jungkook a few days prior, so cashier duties were now assigned to you.
You didn't mind this. It was a straight forward task and far more preferable to drive-thru or clean up duty. However, you couldn't lie in saying you weren't a little on edge at the thought of interacting with Jungkook again. So maybe you spent an extra five minutes this morning on your makeup, so what?
You spent most of your morning taking orders for the early risers that frequented the store. They were all pretty nice, likely too tired at such an early hour to trouble the baristas in charge of their morning dosage of caffeine.
"Hey, gorgeous," were the words that took you out of your thoughts, calling your attention to the boy you'd been subconsciously thinking about all morning.
"Hello, Jungkook. What can I help you with?", you readied yourself to enter his drink on the register.
"What, don't remember my order? Missed you the past few days, by the way. Where'd you go?", he pouted.
"Sorry, not good at memorizing customers' orders, you're going to have to remind me. And I was off this weekend," you were straight forward in your responses.
Similarly to last time, he leaned on the counter, diminishing the distance between you as much as possible before speaking again, a smirk still present on his face.
"That's no problem, gorgeous, I'll remind you every day. Any chance you're nearing your break any time soon?", he questioned with confidence, repeating his order afterwards for you to type into the system.
You sighed, interrupting your work to respond, "No, I-"
"Actually, yes!", interrupted a sudden third voice.
You turned your head to the side to look at the intruder. It was Jane, of course.
"She's been working all morning. She's due for her 15," she let out, pushing you away from the cash register to take your place, "I'll work your order for her," she insisted.
"Great," Jungkook smiled at you in triumph, "In that case, throw in some cake pops in for my new friend," he went to take out some cash, handing what was likely too much to Jane and insisting she keep the change.
Turning his eyes back for you, he nodded in his direction as a silent request that you round the counter and head over to his side. Jane somehow completed his order in artful speed and handed it over to you with a wink before nudging you to encourage you to go. With a slight scowl, you did as suggested, handing Jungkook his drink and cake pops before he gave one back for you.
He began walking over to an empty counter, leaning against it and inviting you to do the same. Very casually, he drank from his drink and took a bite from his cake pop as he offered the other one out to you, chuckling when you grabbed it with reluctance.
"C'mon don't act like I got you hostage."
"You kinda do. My break wasn't until another twenty minutes. This just means I'll have to stay another half an hour," you quipped, more contrarian than anything.
He liked this, it seemed, indicating his amusement with another chuckle. It was probably not usual for him be met with much resistance to his flirting. And it wasn't as if it didn't work on you (it did). You were just not very willing to focus on it over your job — as menial as it was.
"I'll cover your overtime, gorgeous, don't worry about that," he smirked, "What time does your shift end anyway?"
"Hah, wouldn't you like to know?", you laughed antagonistically, continuing to nab at the sweet treat he'd given you.
Taking a step forward, he got up in your personal space. It wasn't an intimate type of closeness, but rather a standoffish one. He was challenging your own defiance against his flirting.
"You are aware I'm flirting with you, right?"
"Very."
Another amused chuckle left him, "How many visits is it gonna take me for you to reciprocate?", he asked, "Fine, maybe being so forward after my second visit was a bit too much, but I'm willing to play the long game if you are."
You listened to him with the ghost of a pleased smile on your face. Fine, maybe he was attractive and likable too. You weren't about to shut him down so easily. Maybe the long game sounded good to you too.
Taking the rest of your cake pop into your mouth with one swoop, you gnawed at the leftover candy on the stick, sucking at it with a pop before eyeing him again and nodding at him.
"You're more than welcome to, Jungkook."
He nodded back, "Them I guess I'll be seeing you here tomorrow ..." he paused with a lift of his eyebrow, a silent question for your name and groaning when you continued to grin silently, "Come on! At least give me your name!"
The giggle left you before you could stop it, continuing to sound out your name to him as a sign of peace.
"Pretty name," he murmured to himself, "Same time tomorrow?", he asked before turning to leave.
"I'll be waiting."
In the following two weeks of working as many hours as possible at your new job, you were finally no longer in your training period. You were now considered as useful an employee as Jane and Lila, meaning you got your name tag and could now comfortably settle into your cashier position.
In these two weeks, you also saw Jungkook almost every day (sans those in which you were off).
It got to a point in which Jungkook would occasionally stop by a second time in the afternoon in search of a peek of you, usually proving unsuccessful, but still trying anyways.
As summer time ended, the mornings became more packed, meaning yours and Jungkook's encounters diminished in time due to the peak of clients in the mornings. Jungkook was not shy in expressing his disappointment at this, always giving you eyes to attempt to get you to stall on his orders so he could spend a little extra time at the counter with you, or even attempting to bribe you with tips so you'd give him your number (something which had almost worked a few times).
Now, an entire month into your job, it was safe to say that Jungkook's crush was more than mutual by this point (though it really always was).
Unfortunately, your back and forth was so limited that you were yet to really find out anything about the guy other than his first name. Apart from having a vague idea of his wealth, you didn't know any basic details such as his age, profession or even his last name.
To be fair, you had never attempted to learn more about him, but this was partially due to your belief that he must've just enjoyed your casual flirtation. Likely, he liked your hard-to-get personality and enjoyed attempting to break you down. He had never actually asked you out past that first time he invaded your break, after all.
Up until today, that is.
"Please let me steal you away for your break," were the first words the boy had spoken to you when he'd finally caught you at the cash register after days of missing you altogether, "Or! I can wait until you get off. I'm finally off work for a few days. Please don't make me beg. I will do it, but it won't be pretty for anyone."
You sighed, fake annoyed at the gigantic pout on his face, "You've seen me almost every other day," you started, only to be interrupted by him.
"But you're always busy! God, why do so many people need coffee anyways?"
"Ask yourself. You're a frequent client here."
"Yeah, but that's different! I don't even come here for the coffee anymore. It's too packed," he continued, peeking behind him for a moment to make sure he wasn't holding up a line.
"Really?", you decided to play with him, "Why do you come, then?"
He leaned in closer to the counter separating you, grin copying your own satisfied one, "You know, the least you could do is acknowledge my flirting. It'd be really mean if you didn't."
"Fine," you gave in, "I work a full day today, but my lunch is in twenty minutes. Now order before my manager scolds me for letting you loiter."
He scoffed, "All your coworkers love me, that could never happen. But fine. I'll have my usual," he conceded, "I'll be waiting for you over at a table outside. If you don't come, I'll become even more of a nuance," he threatened jokingly as you processed his order, taking his payment and handing him a receipt with a reluctant nod in agreement.
"Okay, leave!", you couldn't help but berate him as you handed him his drink — which, hard to admit, you knew by heart.
With another chuckle in your direction, he made a face at you and made his way out, making sure to leave a far too large tip before exiting.
The twenty minutes before your lunch were spent boringly to say the least. Not many customers were around at that time of day, so you spent most of your time lounging around the small bar and restocking any lids or cups you felt were low enough to be refurbished. Contrary to how you'd previously expressed yourself, you were actually looking forward to getting to hang with Jungkook.
He was fun, what could you say?
Just a few minutes before your lunch break actually began, a subtle knocking sound caught your attention, causing you to focus your view on one of the many windows in the shop. Looking in that direction, you caught a smiley Jungkook attempting to grab your attention, waving cutely when you finally noticed him.
"Are you done?", he mouthed through the window, hands making a 'come hither' motion to entice you into coming out, eyebrows lifted in anticipation.
It got increasingly difficult to hold back a smile any time Jungkook would do something unknowingly cute, but you still managed.
You looked at the clock hanging on the wall, noting you had two minutes until your break. Looking back and forth between the empty coffee shop and Jungkook fawning at you from the window, you made a decision. What were two minutes, anyways?
Shrugging, you gave him a small smile, you began heading outside after clocking out of your register, having to force back a giggle at how much bigger his own smile got at your reciprocation.
"Was that a smile I saw?", he grinned when you finally made it outside.
You rolled your eyes, though the ghost of a smile didn't leave you.
"Shut up. You got me for thirty minutes, don't waste it."
You walked side by side up until the table Jungkook had been sitting at, not taking a seat but standing next to it.
"Do I have permission to take you out?", he tried, biting his lip in hopeful anticipation.
Pretending to mull over it for a moment, you crossed your arms and pursed your lips, hmm'ing at the proposal.
"C'mon! You know I like you. All your coworkers know I like you. And, y'know what? I think you like me back- Okay, wait, don't give me that look. Fine, you at least tolerate me."
"And?"
"See! You didn't deny it. That's a step in the right direction. Let me take you out. Please? I'm not in this just for the chase, if that's what you're thinking," he practically pleaded, looking down at you with those gigantic eyes you were unsure if you were truly immune to.
"Then why me?", you asked, truly unsure.
"I don't know," he began, "Call it love at first sight, I guess? Do I need a reason to like you? There's too many. I like everything I've known about you," he finished with sincerity in his eyes.
But you couldn't really buy it so easily.
"Jungkook, you don't even know me."
"But I want to! That's the whole point of dating. C'mon, I won't get in the way of your job. I'll even take you out somewhere fancy. I know you like pastries, I always see you go for the sweet drinks rather than the coffees, and you always pair them with a cake pop. See? I know as much about you as you've allowed me to know," he braved it and stepped closer, grabbing onto your hand tentatively, "So, please?"
You huffed, looking down before looking back at him, attempting to force the endeared smile out of your face.
"Fine. You can take me out. But not right now. If you want to take me out, you have to wow me. A measly thirty minutes in my work apron is not enough."
He took a few moments to wipe the huge smile off his face before responding, clearing his throat before doing so.
"Completely valid. Give me your number so you can text me your address and any time you'll be free for me to wow you," he handed you his phone, taking yours in exchange.
"Really? Any time?", you asked as you absentmindedly added your contact info to his phone, "Don't you have a job or something?"
"Huh, now who's the one who wants to get to know me?", he smirked lightheartedly, "That's for you to find out at our date," he went to hand your phone back, "Now, if I'm not mistaken, I still have an allotted seventeen minutes to spend with you."
In usual Jungkook fashion, he insisted on buying you something to eat from your own establishment, huffing at any suggestion for you to use your employee benefits and leaving a large tip as per usual. Whatever was his job, it must've left him more than satisfied. It made you curious, though his personality was even more intriguing. Against how you may have presented your lack of enthusiasm, you were quite excited for your upcoming date.
The next time you saw Jungkook, you got a very clear idea of what his job must be. Or at least of which tax bracket he sat comfortably at.
You weren't sure what model of car sat in front of your apartment at this moment, but you were sure it was worth beyond the money you'd see in this lifetime. There was also no doubt it belonged to Jungkook. The personalized JK1997 license plate was good enough indicator of its owner.
After giving Jungkook your number, you became victim to a myriad of messages from him from that moment on. Not only did he make plans for your date, but he also took advantage of how easily reachable you had become and chose to display his affection for you in the form of endless messages.
You couldn't lie to yourself, it was fun to have a guy so deeply interested despite your constant indifference towards him, specially if it was a guy that looked like Jungkook.
His messages varied from flirtatious to friendly to downright thirsty — there had been an instance of him sending you a picture of him at the gym, one which you shamelessly saved to your camera roll. You'd tease him about sending pictures back, but the most you ever gave him were selfies (to which he responded with threads of heart eyes).
Your date had been planned almost immediately. Jungkook, claiming himself a romantic, insisted on not telling you his plans, but did recommend you wear a pretty dress and some cute heels. He ached to see you all dolled up for him (his exact words).
Part of you wanted to be a brat (as he seemed to enjoy) and deny him of this pleasure. But a bigger part of you as tired of rejecting him and wanted to break him in different ways. And so you dressed up. You pulled out the dress you thought would wear him down the quickest, dolling yourself up to the best of your abilities and even donning the cutest pair of heels you could find.
The fruits of your labor manifested themselves in the form of a practically drooling Jungkook standing in front of your apartment door, stammering a greeting to you as his eyes went up and down your body multiple times, taking various stops at the parts he likely deemed his favorites.
He led you downstairs by your hand, groaning out loud at your perfume as he complimented it, claiming you must've wanted him dead before he even got to take you on your date. Maybe he was half right about that.
Once downstairs, he played dumb when you gaped at his expensive car, simply claiming that you deserved nothing but the best and opening the passenger door to you with a kiss to the pack of your hand.
His hand remained on your thigh the entire way over, nimble fingers occasionally tracing t the skin or sometimes even squeezing at the plushiness of it. You smiled in satisfaction at how blatant he was about wanting you. He'd always been loud and proud about it, but the reactions he was giving you tonight inflated your ego tenfold.
The restaurant was, once again, another demonstration of his wealth. This time you scoffed at any other suggestion to him being rich, to which he simply chuckled as he allowed the host to lead you over to your seats — some which he'd introduced as the best in the house.
"Are you going to tell me what you do for a living or should I start speculating?", you asked after a few sips of wine.
"What are your thoughts?", he decided to entertain you.
"You're in the mafia, maybe? Or a nepo baby? One of your parents married into wealth? You don't seem the lottery type. You look like you're very well accustomed to being rich," you began speculating, enjoying his amusement at you.
"All very fine guesses, but no. Gonna have to try harder."
"Can I bribe you into telling me?", there was a suggestive tilt to your tone.
"Please bribe me."
You giggled. You enjoyed how open he was about liking you. It was extremely refreshing. It was hard to remember now why you'd ignored his advances for months.
"Tell me," you whined.
"It's nothing exciting. I'm afraid you'll be bored by it," he clicked his tongue.
Maybe you should flip the script and show him your own interest?
Before you could decide, your body took control of its own, with your leg beginning to drag up and down his own under the table in a slow and seductive fashion. He instantly hiccuped at his drink when he felt the touch.
"Tell me?", you asked again, but your tone was far more convincing this time. You let the strap of your dress fall to the side, giving him a sneak peak at the strap hidden underneath it; the first hint at the pretty set you'd thrown on for later.
"A-ah, I'm just a video editor and producer. Nothing too exciting," he managed to not stutter too much as he felt your touch and allowed his eyes to zero in on the tiny sliver of bra.
"Oooh, sexy."
"Well, not as sexy as being a barista," he joked back through a stutter.
"Is that why you're always at the cafe? You're rich enough to not work a menial job like the rest of us peasants," you leaned towards the table a bit, foot continuing to tease at his leg.
"I'd say the pretty barista there is the bigger reason- Baby, you gotta stop doing that," he interrupted himself.
"What, I can't flirt with you? How's that fair?"
"You have the upper hand here. It's not fair!" he almost whined.
"Trust me, I could be doing much worse," you threatened with a smirk, "Don't make me sit next to you. I'll be even meaner up close."
He gaped at you for a few moments before readjusting himself on his seat, eyes trailing to your chest for a brief moment before attempting to refocus.
"Baby, did you enjoy your meal?", he suddenly switched the subject, sitting up straight now.
"We just got here," you tilted your head in confusion.
"Yeah, but, uh, I think I might've left my stove on. Come back home with me to check?"
Oh.
Well, that was fun enough for you.
But you could make it funner.
"But I wanted dessert," you pouted as you let your foot find higher heights on his legs.
"What I want isn't on the menu," he played along with a matching pout.
"Will you treat me to something good if I say yes?"
"I'll give you anything you want," he gave up on the double entendres, tone exasperated as he visibly itched to get up from his seat.
"Fine," you feigned disinterest, slowly getting up from your seat only to be rushed by Jungkook who had suddenly made his way over to your side of the table, ushering you out of your seat.
He scrambled through his wallet to grab a stack of cash, gesturing at the waiter to let him know it covered the bill and that he could keep any extra as a tip. You giggled as he dragged you away, not at all subtle in what his goal was. Even his grip on your wrist as he dragged you away was clear on its intent.
"Well, that was a shitty date," you deadpanned back in the car.
"You're the one who ruined it by playing footsie with me!", he rasped, attempting to focus on the road while you sat pretty beside him with an unspoken promise of sex as soon as you reached your destination.
You were happy to not be the one driving.
"But you said you'll treat me once we take care of your oven, right, Kookie?" you teased with a hand beginning to draw patterns on his leg, causing him to flinch with a whine.
"D-don't touch me! I will crash and I need you intact for I wanna do to you," he grumbled.
You laughed again, surrendering for the rest of the ride.
The next time you spoke was when Jungkook began pulling into a building that looked a few tax brackets above your own. It oozed luxury, being so high up that you could not see the end of it from the car window.
"A producer, huh? Dude, you're loaded. You could probably buy out the entire franchise of the cafe I work at," you marveled as you took in the expensive-looking parking lot you were pulling into.
"Can I? Will that get you to stop working and pay attention to me?," he pouted.
The sight gave you some cognitive dissonance. On one hand, you had an extremely attractive Jungkook donning what was likely an insanely expensive suit whilst maneuvering the car with only one hand. Meanwhile, you also had a needy boy pouting at you for your attention.
But you decided to play into the latter. The control he gave you was just too enjoyable.
"Needy," you teased.
"You have no idea."
And those were hid last words before he finally parked the car, rushing to get out and round it in order to help you out of your seat. It was embarrassing, really, the urgency in which he ushered you towards the lobby, practically dragging you all the way to the elevator before pressing a button far too high for the ride to be a short one.
Which was why you chose to take advantage of tour solitary surroundings whilst in that small ascending box.
Jungkook should've seen it coming, really. You hadn't been shy about being a tease back at the restaurant, nor had you really restrained yourself while in his car. It should've been obvious to him that you'd try and pull something whilst on the elevator too, right?
Wrong. Or well, at least if his whimper of surprise had been any indicator of his cluelessness.
The most sensible thing to do (in your horny opinion, at least) at that moment had been to corner him and catch him in a heated kiss. Apart from his initial surprise, it seemed like this was the right step to take, seeing as he fed into it immediately.
His hands were just as needy as his person, gluing themselves to your body and refusing to leave it for even a second. Every curve was felt and squeezed at as his tongue infiltrated your mouth. But his needy hands weren't even the best thing about him.
Your favorite thing was how shameless he was when it came to his sounds. If a mere kiss had him whimpering against you, you were ecstatic to know what second base would make him sound like.
Pulling at his hair, you pulled him away from you just so you could take a look at his dazed eyes (which were very adamantly glued to your lips). The sight was too pretty to ignore. But this lasted mere seconds before the poor boy drew you into another kiss, humming when you kissed back with the same amount of fervor.
Needy hands landed on your hips, long fingers digging into the plush and pushing them against his own. His hardness was already proudly present and dragging itself against whichever part of your body was closest. Pants were released right into your lips and suffocated against your tongue. No words were exchanged, as the sounds of clothes ruffling and tongues meeting were already loud enough.
Sadly, the beautiful art of dry humping had to be put to a stop when the elevator dinged, indicating you'd reached your destination.
True to his character, Jungkook whined again, immediately setting course for his apartment as he dragged you by the hand once again. You found your destination quite quickly as Jungkook fumbled to let the two of you in, practically pushing you in before closing the door behind him.
"Fuck, I want you so bad," he spoke for the first time as he pressed your lips together once more.
Blindly guiding you through his expansive apartment, he somehow managed to only bump twice before making it to his bed. Sadly, you were unable to take in your surroundings due to Jungkook's insistence in keeping your lips locked, but who were you to complain?
Landing on his bed, Jungkook remained standing, beginning to throw off his blazer and unbutton his shirt as you leaned back in a sitting position, legs spread to allow him to stand between them. You enjoyed the show, not even attempting to get yourself into any state of undress.
"Stop staring at me like that. You're making me nervous," he whined when he found himself finally shirtless, squinting at you as you quite literally ate him with your eyes.
You knew he'd be the prettiest sight from the moment you first spotted him, but he looked even better than you could've possibly imagined. He was clearly sculpted, but you didn't realize it'd be to this extent. Carrying a lean figure, every inch of his body still managed to contain toned muscle. The tattoo sleeve also did not help manners.
You ignored his whining, continuing to stare.
"Come up wrap me," you lifted your hands childishly as if to invite him to undress you, which he accepted happily.
Chuckling at your demeanor, his hands reached out to you, helping you stand up before blindly unzipping your dress and letting it fall down to reveal the other pretty garments you'd chosen to wear for him.
"Oh, you hate me," he mumbled upon a single view of what was hiding below your dress.
Pressing his forehead to your shoulder, he groaned, hands hanging by your sided as he appeared to apprehensive to touch you, not really knowing where to start.
"You haven't even looked at it yet!", you pouted, "I got it just for you. And it was expensive — maybe not by your standards, but," you shrugged.
His nose trailed its way to your neck by then, breathing you in and continuing to groan at the peak of lingerie he'd just gotten. There was no way he had gotten a good look from his proximity, but knowing that the mere suggestion of you dressing up for him already had him frustrated.
"I'll buy you a wardrobe full of them," he huffed whilst his hands felt you up, fingers lightly scratching at the lace barely covering your hips and breasts.
"If I rip it, will you be mad?", he asked after getting his fill of you. Your neck was practically wet with his saliva by then.
"Well, you did say you were gonna buy me more, so,"
Your statement was followed by a ripping sound coming from down south, your lower half now fully nude as you gasped.
"Jungkook!"
"Oh, these rip easily. That's good. I like these," he muttered, unhooking your bra before beginning to kiss his way to your breasts.
"K-kook, fuck."
His lips caught onto one of your breasts, tongue teasingly rounding the hardened bud in the middle before nipping lightly at it. A huff of air was released against your skin as he sighed in what you believed to be contentment.
"You're so pretty," he sounded pained as he said it.
He continued kissing at your breasts and feeling at your body for a few moments before laying you back on the bed, hands aiding you in scooting towards its middle so he could hover above you comfortably. His hands didn't leave you once, latched onto some part of your body at all times.
Trailing down with wet kisses, his lips acted as a magnet against your skin, finding their way to your middle slowly but desperately. Immediately once there, he nuzzled his nose into your bundle of nerves, sighing against it before letting his tongue get a taste.
"I- fuck, Kook," you sighed when you received a wide lick to your folds, followed by precise movements of his tongue.
Jungkook's proclivity towards oral became obvious quite quickly. It was as if he was trying to replace all the wetness seeping out of you with his own saliva. It sounded disgusting in theory, but felt far too good in practice.
"Hmm, fuck. Baby, I need to be able to breathe," he chuckled breathlessly when your thighs began squeezing around his head a little too harshly.
"It's your fault," was all you mumbled before whining at him to continue.
Unable to deny you anything, he kept going, tongue pointed as it poked and licked at your swollen pearl while his ring and middle finger slowly inserted themselves inside, doing a 'come hither' motion and gracing against your walls to perfection. The constant rumble of his groans against you did not really help matters either.
"You're too fucking good at this, shit," you groaned when he held you impossibly closer, nose rubbing against your clit as he licked at your hole maniacally.
"Just, fuck, it's so warn n pretty," mumbled the drunken man.
It made you pulse the way in which he described your cunt. Pretty had never been a word you'd considered, but who were you to oppose his expert opinion?
Far too soon, you felt your orgasm approach. All your senses were heightened. The smell of sweat, the feeling of his tongue against you, the sound of his grumbles of self-serving pleasure; you were done for.
When you came, it didn't come to you as a surprise when Jungkook refused to create any distance between you. His head remained buried between your legs, tongue lapping at you despite your body begging at him to stop. The sensitivity was high, but the pleasure was ever so present, you didn't have it in you to actually make him stop. Your hands dug into his hair even harder than before, though they were indecisive as to whether to pull him closer or away from you.
"God, fuck. I've been wanting to do that since I met you," he groaned out once he resurfaced.
He climbed beck up your limp and ruined body, kissing his way to your lips before nastily shoving his tongue in your mouth. Not bothering to ask whether or not you'd want to taste yourself, he took a wild guess and asserted you'd be enthusiastic in your reciprocation — which you clearly were, practically reaching down his throat with your own tongue.
Naturally, your bodies melded with one another as you kissed. Both pairs of hips became needy as they ground against each other. Bumping bellies, you ensured Jungkook remained trapping against you as you wrapped your legs around his nonexistent waist. He chuckled at this for half a second before continuing to devour your lips with his own, hips even more desperate than before.
"Wanna- fuck, wanna cum like this, but ... God, need to be inside you," he grunted out his predicament.
Pity.
Maybe you'd rebirth the lost art of dry humping some other day. It'd be far more fun to make Jungkook cum in his pants, after all. Why waste a perfectly naked Jungkook with some dry humping when he was already in a full state of undress?
"What are you waiting for?", you nudged him with your foot, opening your legs further to demonstrate your want for him.
"You're mean," he huffed as he kissed you before pulling himself away to scramble through his end table for a condom.
In an uncharacteristically non suave manner, Jungkook ripped the condom open with his mouth, peeling it over his hardness with an urgency that showed you just how needy he was. This caused you to giggle at the sight.
"You laugh now, but I'm about to fuck you into this bed," he grunted as he absentmindedly rewrapped your legs around his waist, ensuring you locked them behind his back so he could grab onto his cock and begin lining himself up.
"Fuck, baby, do you see that? So puffy and needy," he mocked, tip running up and down your folds, catching your clit long enough to make you gasp.
"Stop it. I'm the only one allowed to be mean," you complained, legs pulling him forward.
"Right," he chuckled, "What I'm about to do to you feels really mean, though."
"Jungkook, I swear to- F-fuck!"
"God, so fucking tight," he mumbled under his breath, "Feels even better than I imagined."
You panted for a few moments as you adjusted yourself to the huge intrusion, eyes faltering a bit.
"Thought about this a lot?"
"Every night, baby," he groaned when you gave him the green light to start moving.
With this, he began grinding into you with an intensity that showed you he'd been telling the truth. Despite how much of a mess he'd been throughout your date, his suave and confident persona was ever so present whilst fucking into you.
There seemed to be no thoughts in his mind that did not revolve around your pleasure. His pace was mind-numbing yet sensual, his fingers circled at your clit with the perfect precision, his lips never ceased in their smacking against your skin. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was trying to ruin you for any other man (hint: he was).
"Feels good, baby?," he grunted between thrusts, breathless and almost unable to form a sentence.
"K-kook-"
You were unable to formulate words, and he knew as much. Or at least that's what you got from the smirk pressed up against your cheek as he trailed back up to your lips.
"You're going to cum with me, right, pretty? Hmm?", his nose nudged your own, lips leaving teasing kisses against yours, "It'll feel so good, gorgeous, okay? I'm, fuck, I'm almost there."
"Kook, I'm c-cumming, sh-shit! Fuck!", you wailed when it finally hit you, having no time to feel embarrassed at how quickly it came. It had all been too much, but you were pretty sure Jungkook knew that.
He followed you into the abyss with a groan and a small bite down the skin of your shoulder. He hummed against the skin, getting it damp with saliva, but you didn't care. The heat from his body as he pressed you down onto his sheets created a damp sheen of sweat between you. It was all very humid and nasty, but the knowledge that Jungkook was currently creaming into a condom whilst buried inside you, mind lost as his sounds filled the room, was more than satisfactory to you.
"Fuck," he groaned once he slumped himself next to you.
He lazily slipped off the condom, throwing it at a trash can laid near his bed before nuzzling his body against your limp one. You had made no move since your orgasm, simply taking in the pleasure that had just invaded you mere minutes ago.
"You're dangerous for a barista."
"You knew this the moment you saw me. That's what you liked about me."
He hummed happily, "You should actually be mean to me next time. It'd be hot."
"Masochist," you laughed.
"Guilty."
"All the girls are gonna hate me when they realize I toon you off the market," you whined as you flipped yourself to your side, scooting closer to him and practically burying yourself in his skin.
"But you love that, don't you?", he chuckled.
You giggled back.
"Guilty."
to read short 2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!
content: more cafe shenanigans with reader and her coworkers, jungkook still being down bad, smut, afab reader, tit fucking, face riding, mentions of sexting, etc.
wc: 351 (teaser); 2k (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"What the hell are you doing here with those?"
"Is that how you welcome your boyfriend?"
Those were his last words before you rushed to round the counter and get him out of earshot, dragging him by the arm towards the exit. On his other arm, he held tightly onto the ridiculously large bouquet of flowers he'd entered the facility with mere moments ago.
"Woah, what's with the aggression?", he scoffed in jest when you finally made it far enough from your coworkers' eyes.
"Dude, I already told you Lila's been on my ass since she found out we're dating. You have got to stop bringing gifts to my workplace," you groaned, though still taking the flowers from him and giving him a peck as a form of thanks.
There had been a few instances already in which Jungkook had been far too loud and proud about your relationship whilst visiting you at your workplace. It always led to thin-veiled animosity between you and your coworkers.
"So? Who cares about Loraine, or whatever her name is?", he shrugged.
"I do! And it's not just her. They're all in love with you. And most of them keep giving me the cold shoulder because of you! Lila's just the worst of them."
He pouted and coo'd, chuckling when you complained at him for patronizing you. His arms wrapped around you, still chuckling in amusement at your predicament.
"Well, you won. You have me," he hummed in satisfaction.
"Pfft. As if I chased after you," you scoffed.
"Is that a challenge? I'm not afraid to go back in there and confess my love for you."
"Jungkook. No!"
"I won't. Just because," he stopped to check his watch, "it's 2:02pm, which means you get to clock out and I get to take you home. So get your pretty ass back in there so I can get my girlfriend in bed."
"It's two in the afternoon."
"I said what I said," he gave you one last squeeze before grabbing onto your hand and leading you towards the cafe you'd just technically kicked him out of.
...
find the continuation on patreon!
if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3
instructor!sunghoon x ballerina!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, mirror sex, pet names (sweatheart, good girl), bad ballet references bc idk what i'm talking about, slight mention of self doubt, not proof read, anything else lmk!
wc: 7.4k
REQ: ballet intructor!sunghoon helping ballerina!reader stretch and you know where the rest leads to 😼
a/n: hi! i took this request and shuffled it around to make it this! hope this is okay anonnie and i am also so sorry for the late posting of it! i've been working on so much lately and with my little break i didn't do much writing. as always, comments, reblogs, and likes are all welcome!
Applause echoes through the spacious studio as one of your fellow dancers finishes receiving her critique from Mrs. Yang. Her routine was strong, though it seems she needs to work on her turnout - something you hadn't noticed. Perhaps it’s because your nerves are clouding your perception; after all, it will be your turn once she's finished.
The Annual Exhibition is less than two months away, and this will be your first time presenting your completed routine for approval in front of an audience - especially Mrs. Yang, who is more than just an instructor to you; she’s your role model, the person you’ve looked up to throughout your entire ballet journey.
Throughout your high school years, you dedicated your evenings and weekends to ballet school, working tirelessly just for the chance to apply to the National University of Arts and audition in front of Mrs. Yang. For months leading up to this moment, you poured everything into perfecting your pliés and pirouettes. Blisters marred your feet, and exhaustion settled deep in your bones, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was proving yourself worthy.
“Y/N, you’re up,” Mrs. Yang’s voice echoes through the studio like a haunting ghost.
Following her words, you get up and shake off any nerves you have, all too aware of the impact performing badly will have; she could cut you from the exhibition or tell you to scrap the routine entirely, and both of those are not an option for you.
Now, as you step forward to take your place at the centre of the studio, the weight of the moment presses down on you. Every muscle is tense with anticipation, and your heart races as you prepare to dance.
The music begins, and you launch into your routine. At first, the nerves are overwhelming - each movement feels too stiff, too calculated. But as you glide into an arabesque and sweep through a series of pirouettes, something shifts. The familiar rhythm of the dance takes over, and your body begins to move almost on its own, flowing through each step with a grace you didn't know you possessed.
You’re hyper-aware of Mrs. Yang’s presence, of her eyes following your every move, but instead of faltering, you find yourself sinking deeper into the performance. Each développé stretches to its fullest extent, each sauté feels lighter than air. Your breathing steadies and the tension in your muscles transforms into power and control.
As you close the final sequence with a grand jeté, landing with a precise yet delicate touch, you can feel the room holding its breath. You finish in a graceful reverence, chest heaving but mind calm. In this moment, all the hours of hard work, the pain, and the sacrifices feel worth it. You've given everything you have.
But as you glance at Mrs. Yang, it doesn’t look like she’s as satisfied with your performance as you are. Her face is stoic, unreadable, but you’ve been in her class long enough to decipher even the subtlest of her expressions. The slight raise of her right eyebrow sends a wave of dread crashing through you. That’s never a good sign. Her eyes cling to you with the intensity of an unwanted gaze, leaving an uncomfortable knot twisting in your stomach.
She remains quiet for a few minutes, the silence stretching unbearably as though she’s gathering her words. When she finally speaks, her tone is clipped, measured. “It’s good, modern, and meets the criteria.”
You brace yourself, knowing that a ‘but’ is coming.
“But,” she continues, and you wince slightly, “you are not sharp enough. I mean seriously, Y/N, how many times do I need to pull you up for this? Do you not want to improve?”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You don’t want to disappoint her. You gave everything you had in that performance, even though it was just a run-through. But it’s clear that it wasn’t enough.
You bow your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Yang’s irritation sharpens. “Then for the love of God, can you listen to me this time?” She stands up, her movements precise and deliberate as she walks over to you. Her voice is firm, tinged with exasperation. “This exhibition is crucial to your future career. It’s what sets you apart from the others, and yet you seem to lack such basic skills. Even the first years are forming lines better than you.”
Her words slice through you, each one a reminder of the standards you’ve failed to meet. The sting of her tone is almost unbearable, but you know deep down that it comes from a place of faith. She nitpicks because she sees potential in you, potential she wants to help you realise. Each six-month review she’s had with you, she’s made it clear that she believes you can make it far in this world.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Yang,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
“Apologise to yourself, not to me.”
A chorus of snickers drifts from the edge of the room. You glance over to see a group of girls, giggling and holding in laughter, their eyes full of condescension. The sound pierces through your already fragile self-belief, making you shrink into yourself, every snicker chipping away at whatever confidence you had left. Doubt begins to creep in, gnawing at the edges of your resolve. You start questioning whether you’re truly cut out for this, whether all the sacrifices you’ve made have been for nothing.
Before you can spiral too deeply into your own thoughts, Mrs. Yang’s fingers press firmly against your cheek, gently but insistently turning your face to meet hers. “You can’t do this on your own, so I’m assigning you a coach.”
“But you are my coach,” you reply, your voice tinged with confusion.
“Yes, but I don’t have time to give you hours of one-on-one training,” she says, rolling her eyes as if that statement should be obvious. She strides back to her seat, preparing to evaluate the next girl in line. “I have someone in mind. They’re very fluid and pointed in their gestures. They should whip you into shape. I’ll book you an out-of-hours studio for the foreseeable.”
The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You stand there, rooted to the spot, unable to fully process what she’s just said. Sure, she’ll still be your instructor during scheduled lessons, but this means that on top of your gruelling 12-hour days, your endless rehearsals, and the constant pressure to perfect every move, you’ll now have to spend extra time with a new coach.
It’s overwhelming. The thought of adding yet another layer of intensity to your already packed schedule makes your head spin. Your body, already pushed to its limits, protests at the idea of even more hours in the studio. Your heart sinks as the reality of the situation sets in. How will you manage it all? How will you balance the expectations of not one but two demanding mentors?
You want to succeed, to rise to the challenge, but a part of you is terrified that you’ll crumble under the weight of it all. The path ahead, already steep and treacherous, has just become even more daunting.
As Mrs. Yang calls out the name of the next dancer, you force yourself to step aside, the familiar sting of exhaustion settling into your bones.
You can only hope that this new coach makes it worth your while.
_____
The long day of classes has left you drained, every muscle aching with the residue of endless rehearsals and critiques. The last thing you want to do is spend more time in the studio, yet here you are, trudging down the empty hallways of the performance centre with your gym bag slung over your shoulder. The familiar scent of rosin and sweat lingers in the air, and you can't help but feel a pang of dread at the thought of more practice. Your mind buzzes with the memory of Mrs. Yang’s words earlier this week, her disappointment, and the pressure of living up to expectations weighing heavily on your shoulders.
As you push open the door to the studio, your eyes fall on an unfamiliar figure - a boy standing with his back to you. He’s tall, strikingly so, with broad shoulders that taper down into a lean, athletic frame. His dark hair is tousled, falling just above the nape of his neck, and he’s dressed in loose joggers and a fitted white tank top that highlights the sinewy lines of his muscles.
You hesitate in the doorway, momentarily taken aback by his presence. The studio had been booked for you, and the last thing you want is a confrontation with a stranger. You clear your throat softly, hoping to catch his attention. “Um, hello?” you say timidly, your voice barely above a whisper. You hope that a gentle approach will encourage him to leave without any fuss.
The boy whips around at the sound of your voice, and your breath catches in your throat. His face is nothing short of breathtaking; sharp, elegant features softened by a small, almost shy smile. His eyes, a deep, captivating brown, seem to sparkle with quiet intensity as he takes in your appearance. For a moment, you’re struck by how impossibly beautiful he is, like a sculptor’s masterpiece brought to life. He seems too perfect, too unreal, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest as you meet his gaze.
“Hi,” he says, his voice smooth and warm, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. He’s still studying you, and you can’t help but take the opportunity to do the same, noting every detail of his flawless face - the way his lips curve slightly upwards, the sharpness of his jawline, the softness of his eyes.
You blink, trying to regain your composure. “I don’t mean to be rude,” you start, hoping to keep your tone polite, “but my teacher booked me this room for a few hours.”
He raises an eyebrow, his small smile never fading. “Four hours to be exact, yeah. She also booked you…me.” The confusion must be evident on your face because he adds, “I’m your coach, Sunghoon.”
“You?” The word slips out before you can stop it, and you instantly regret how incredulous you sound. The last thing you want is to offend him, but the shock of the situation has thrown you off balance.
“Yeah, me. Why?” His tone is still light, but there’s a hint of defensiveness in his voice, and that sends you into a mild panic. You quickly shake your head, trying to salvage the situation.
“No, no, I’m not trying to say anything negative,” you stammer, holding up your hands as if to ward off any misunderstanding. “It’s just… I’ve never seen you around the performance centre, let alone the ballet corridor.”
He nods, seeming to understand your confusion. “That’s because you’ll find me in the sports centre.”
You take a moment to size him up, your mind racing as you try to figure out what sport he could possibly play. He’s too lean to be a rugby player, his legs too slender to be a footballer, but he’s tall enough to be a basketball player. You consider the possibility of him being a rower or maybe a gymnast, but nothing quite fits. He’s a mystery, one that piques your curiosity.
As if reading your thoughts, he interrupts your internal questioning. “I’m a figure skater.”
The revelation surprises you, and you can’t help but blurt out, “Oh.” You pause, trying to piece together why a figure skater would be chosen to coach you in ballet. Placing your bag to the side of the room, you turn to him again. “So why are you coaching me?”
“Why can’t I?” he counters, his tone holding a subtle challenge that makes you feel slightly defensive. “Mrs. Yang said you’re having trouble looking elegant and punctuated in your movements. Skaters have the same problem.”
You nod slowly, but a part of you is still sceptical. “But you guys have ice and skates. I have a wooden floor and ballet pumps.”
A laugh escapes his lips before he quickly covers his mouth, a look of apology flashing across his face. “Sorry, it’s just…what does that have to do with anything?”
You frown, still not entirely convinced. “You guys have blades to move you. I have to coordinate my legs to move me. You guys can think about fluidity and movement.”
He crosses his arms, his expression becoming more serious as he regards you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound? We have to balance on a tiny blade and have every chance to slip or crash from a jump.”
His words hang in the air, and you suddenly feel a bit foolish for your assumptions. Of course, figure skating requires immense skill and precision - maybe even more so than ballet, given the added challenge of balancing on ice.
“Okay, fair point,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. You also hate it when people underestimate the skill and energy it takes to perform ballet, and yet here you are doing it to him about his own sport.
He steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze. “I know you were expecting some ballet genius to help you but our arts are similar. It’s about control, balance, and grace,” he explains. “On the ice, every movement needs to be both powerful and delicate. The same applies to ballet. You need to find that balance between strength and elegance. That’s where I come in.”
You nod slowly, beginning to understand his perspective. The way he speaks, the passion in his voice, makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this might actually work. “And you think you can teach me that?”
“I know I can,” he says confidently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, that is.”
There’s a challenge in his words, one that you can’t resist rising to. You’ve always prided yourself on your work ethic, and you’re not about to let anyone doubt your dedication.
“I am,” you reply firmly, meeting his gaze with determination.
Sunghoon starts the session by having you go through your routine. His eyes are sharp, missing nothing as he watches you move across the floor. You’re acutely aware of his presence, the way his gaze seems to weigh on your every step, every turn, every jump. It’s unnerving at first, but you push through the discomfort, focusing on executing each movement with precision.
When you finish, he steps forward, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re good,” he says, and the praise sends a warm flush of satisfaction through you and a blush to your cheeks. “But you’re too tense. You’re overthinking every move, and it shows. Ballet is as much about feeling as it is about technique. You need to let go a little.”
You frown slightly, not entirely sure how to do that. “Let go?”
“Yeah,” he says, moving to stand beside you. “Your muscles are too tight, your movements too calculated. It’s like you’re afraid of making a mistake, so you’re holding back.”
You look down at the floor, his words hitting a little too close to home. You’ve always been afraid of making mistakes, always felt the pressure to be perfect. It’s something that’s been drilled into you since you first started dancing, and it’s hard to shake.
He must sense your hesitation because he steps closer, his voice softening. “Hey,” he says gently, and you look up to find his eyes full of understanding. “I get it. But if you keep holding back, you’re never going to reach your full potential.”
There’s something in his voice that makes you want to trust him, something that makes you feel like maybe he understands you in a way that others don’t. You nod slowly, taking a deep breath as you try to let go of the tension in your body.
“Good,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. “Now, let’s try something different.”
_____
For two hours straight, you push your body to its limits, executing each movement with precision and determination. Sunghoon’s voice fills the studio, giving you sharp, pointed instructions that you follow without question. But as the minutes tick by, the atmosphere begins to shift. The calm, encouraging demeanour he started with fades, replaced with a growing tension that seems to coil around the two of you, tightening with each correction he makes.
“Extend more,” he snaps as you move through a series of arabesques. His tone is snappier now, the softness from before replaced with something harsher. “You’re still too stiff.”
You grit your teeth, focusing on stretching every muscle to its fullest, making sure each line is as precise as possible. But no matter how much you try, his dissatisfaction only seems to grow.
“Again,” he commands, his voice laced with frustration. You try to push your discontent down, channelling it into your movements, but the more you try, the more his critiques seem to cut through you.
“You’re losing focus. How are you going to perform on stage if you can’t even manage this in practice?”
The sting of his criticism hits you deep, and you can feel your confidence waver. Are you really that bad? You’re hitting the moves correctly, focusing intently on your lines - the very aspect of the performance Mrs. Yang had criticised you for. You’re doing everything he’s asking, so why is he still so frustrated? Shouldn’t he be pleased that his coaching is starting to take effect?
You execute a pirouette, landing with precision, but the instant your foot touches the ground, Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the air. “No,” he says sharply, shaking his head. “You’re not following through. Where’s the energy? The intention?”
“I’m trying!” The words slip out before you can stop them, frustration bubbling over. Your chest heaves with exertion, and you meet his eyes, desperate for some sign that he understands how hard you’re working, how much you’re giving.
But his expression remains hard, unreadable, and that only fuels the growing tension between you. “Trying isn’t enough,” he snaps back, stepping closer, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You need to do more than just hit the moves. You have to feel them. Right now, you’re just going through the motions. There’s no passion, no fire.”
His words cut deep, and you feel a flare of anger mixed with hurt. “I’m doing exactly what you asked,” you retort, unable to keep the edge out of your voice. “I’m focusing on the lines, on the form. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes,” he says, his frustration palpable, “but you’re missing the point. It’s not just about form; it’s about bringing the movements to life. Right now, you’re nothing more than a marionette, moving because you’re being told to, not because you’re actually feeling the dance.”
The comparison stings and you can feel yourself reaching boiling point. You’ve been working so hard, pushing yourself beyond what you thought you were capable of, and yet here you are, being told that it’s still not enough. A part of you wants to shout at him, to tell him that he doesn’t understand how hard this is, how much pressure you’re under. But instead, you swallow the words, letting the irritation simmer beneath the surface.
Sunghoon’s gaze softens, just a fraction, but it’s enough to make you feel the weight of his expectations even more acutely. “I know you can do better. Mrs. Yang told me you’re one of her best students,” he says, his voice gentler now with the content, though no less intense. “That’s why I’m pushing you. I need you to push yourself. You’ve got so much potential, but something’s holding you back. What is it?”
His question hangs in the air, heavy and probing. For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Why are you holding back? Is it the fear of failing? Fear that you’ll never be good enough? Or maybe, deep down, you just don’t believe in yourself.
The silence between you stretches, thick with hostility. Sunghoon steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming, the heat radiating off him nearly suffocating. You can feel the intensity of his gaze, a challenge flickering in his eyes, daring you to shatter whatever invisible barrier is restraining you.
He’s so close now that you can see the tight set of his jaw, the way his eyes blaze with a fire that sends a shiver down your spine. The frustration is palpable, a tangible force crackling in the air, making it feel electric, charged with something both exhilarating and frightening.
With a firm but gentle touch, Sunghoon places his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face the mirror. He steps in behind you, closing the space between your bodies. “Look at yourself,” he says, his voice low and resonant. “See how tense you are?” His large hands slide down from your shoulders, tracing the line of your body. “Every muscle is knotted up. You can’t perform at your best unless you loosen up. Stop overthinking. Just…let go.”
Your eyes meet his in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Then, almost instinctively, his fingers press into your sides, firm and commanding, gliding up your waist and torso with deliberate slowness. The sensation sends a wave of heat through your body, and your breath catches as he lifts your arms, stretching your upper half with a fluid motion that leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
“Feel this,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, sending another quake over your body. He holds your wrists above your head with one hand, the other pressing into your lower back, making you hyper-aware of the heat emanating from him. “See how good that feels?”
Using his knuckles, he circles the bottom of your spine, dissolving any knots and doubts from it. You resist the urge to moan but your eyes roll to the back of your head as you push your hips into him, aching for more of his magical touch. Out of all the massages you have ever had, this tiny glimmer of one beats them all.
His breath spreads over your skin, and his fingers tighten slightly around your wrists as he holds you in place. Once you bring your eyes forward, he locks in with yours in the mirror. His piercing stare is intense and your heart quickens, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.
“You like that?” Sunghoon asks, the smirk plastered on his face as he feels you grinding onto his growing boner. He can see you wanting to let go in the reflection of your eyes as well as the neediness in your breaths, giving him all the consent he needs to take this further.
As he releases your wrists, his hand trails down your shoulders and back to meet the other. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your top, firm yet tender. His fingers glide along your spine, coaxing your body to arch into the movement, a soft sigh escaping your lips. His touch is skilled, knowing exactly where to press and where to ease, melting away the tension in your muscles, leaving you pliant under his hands.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers, the edge in his voice betraying his awareness of the effect he’s having on you. The connection is almost too intense to bear. But you can’t look away, drawn to the magnetic pull between you. He slides his hands over your sides and across your lower abdomen, fingers digging slightly into your muscles, the pressure both soothing and intoxicating as he massages your belly and hips.
You instinctively begin to lower your arms, the proximity making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. But his grip tightens around your waist in warning. “No, keep your arms up, sweetheart,” he says, his tone demanding, the instructor in him resurfacing.
Resting his hand flatly on your stomach, his fingers spread as he pulls you flush against him, your back meeting the solid expanse of his chest. The contact makes you acutely aware of every point where your bodies touch, your heart hammering in your chest as your breath catches. His hands linger at the waistband of your leggings, before slowly, his hands dip down, fingers brushing against your skin, exploring with deliberate, teasing slowness. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity through you, your skin tingling under his touch.
His hands move lower, the anticipation building with every inch he covers. You can feel your muscles trembling, your arms still stretched above your head as he asked, but the effort to maintain the position becomes increasingly difficult with every passing second.
His fingers find your folds, slipping between them with an agonising slowness that leaves you gasping. The sensation is overwhelming, your body instinctively moving with his fingers, but he’s quick to remind you of his control. “Keep your arms up, be a good girl and listen,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a quiet authority that leaves no room for disobedience.
The smirk on his face is unmistakable as he watches you struggle to comply, the tension between following his instructions and giving in to the intoxicating pull of his touch almost unbearable. His fingers continue their slow exploration, teasing and tormenting you with a skill that leaves you trembling, your resolve weakening with every passing moment.
Impulse begs you to let your arms fall, to collapse into his embrace, but his gaze holds you in place, that smirk still playing on his lips as he watches you battle with your own desires. The contrast between his command and the sheer pleasure he’s coaxing from your body is dizzying, leaving you on the edge of surrender.
Yet, despite the intense need coursing through you, you force yourself to keep your arms raised, stretching above your head, the effort only adding to the thrill coursing through your veins. His fingers move with deliberate intent now, pressing deeper, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body that make it almost impossible to think, to breathe.
Sunghoon’s fingers expertly play with your pussy, two of them circling your sensitive nub with a maddening precision that leaves you dizzy. “Do you feel how exhausted your arms are?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of smugness, as though expecting an answer despite your obvious distraction.
Nodding, you squeeze your eyes shut so tightly that white spots dance behind your lids, a kaleidoscope of fleeting lights against the darkness. The burn in your arms is a sharp contrast to the way your hips instinctively move, undulating in perfect sync with his skilled fingers. It's a delicious torment—the strain in your muscles somehow amplifies the pleasure coiling low in your belly, turning every sensation sharper, more intense.
Suddenly, his lips are on your neck, a gentle press of heat that sends a shiver cascading down your spine, threatening to unravel you completely. The warmth of his mouth on your skin is your undoing, and before you can stop yourself, your arms give way. You collapse forward, hands scrambling to find purchase, seeking him instinctively as if he's the only thing keeping you grounded. Your fingers dig into his arms, nails biting into his skin as you cling to him, desperate for stability in the storm he's unleashed within you.
"See how loose you feel?" His voice is a murmur against your neck, each word a hot, teasing caress. "How your body wants to move on its own, to give in? That’s how your performance should be."
As if to punctuate his point, his fingers slide inside you, the sudden, intimate invasion tearing a sharp gasp from your lips. Your hips buck against his hand, craving more, driven by the need he’s ignited in you. His other arm tightens around your waist, holding you close, anchoring you to him as his fingers continue their relentless rhythm, each stroke designed to push you further, closer to the edge.
The atmosphere around you thickens, every breath heavy with the electric tension between you. The heat radiating from his body seeps into yours, an overwhelming presence that consumes you, making it impossible to think of anything but the here and now. The scent of him - musky, intoxicating - fills your senses, making you feel lightheaded, dizzy with desire. You can feel the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against your lower back, a solid reminder of his own need, adding fuel to the fire already burning within you.
His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, more urgently, more demanding. "Even your pussy is so tight," he murmurs, his tone more observation than criticism. "Do I need to open this up too?"
Your laboured breathing is your only response, mingling with the slick, rhythmic sounds of his hand moving inside you. The coil of pleasure in your core tightens with every thrust, winding tighter and tighter, the pressure building until you feel like you might shatter from the intensity of it.
Your hands clutch at his arm, desperate, seeking something solid to hold onto as your legs threaten to buckle beneath you. His fingers curl inside you, finding that perfect spot that sends your vision spinning, a raw, needy moan escaping your lips. The feeling of his hard length pressing against you, coupled with the masterful way his fingers work you, has your entire body humming with sensation, alive with the need to surrender to the pleasure he’s offering.
Sunghoon’s mouth returns to your neck, lips brushing over your sensitive skin, his teeth grazing lightly as he sucks, sending another jolt of arousal through you. "That’s it," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a low, rough command that vibrates through you. "Let go. Feel it. This is how you should be."
His words wrap around you like a spell, breaking down the last of your restraint. Your body moves with his, falling into the rhythm he’s set, lost in the heat and desire pulsing between you. Every stroke, every touch, draws you deeper into the abyss of pleasure, until all you can do is let go and let him guide you.
“Fuck, Sunghoon,” you manage to mewl, your voice trembling, breathless, as you throw your head back, letting it rest against his chest.
A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him, the sound reverberating through you, adding to the fire already blazing in your veins. His lips trail up to your ear, his tongue flicking against your earlobe, a playful, teasing nip that sends another shiver racing down your spine. “That’s it,” he whispers, his voice thick with a mix of amusement and desire. His fingers curl inside you again, hitting that spot that makes your entire body jerk in his hold, another gasp torn from your throat. “You like this, don’t you? You’re such a perfect student, so eager to please.”
All you can do is nod, biting down on your lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill over. He hums appreciatively, his hot breath brushing against your ear, the sensation sending another ripple of pleasure through you. “Good,” he purrs, his voice low and commanding, like the instructor he is. “You’re a quick learner when you want to be. You respond so well to guidance.”
Without warning, his hand shifts, thumb finding your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your hips jerk involuntarily. Your vision blurs, stars dancing before your eyes as the pleasure crashes over you in waves, each one pulling you deeper into the sensation. His fingers move with expert precision, relentless in their pursuit of your release, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.
In the mirror before you, Sunghoon’s eyes lock onto you, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he relishes in watching the pleasure contort your face. "You’re moving perfectly, not overthinking, just feeling how you should," he murmurs, almost to himself, pride evident in his voice.
Just as you feel yourself teetering on the brink, he slows his movements, dragging out your pleasure, keeping you suspended on the edge. You whimper with need, the desperation in your voice only making him grin wider. His lips brush against your ear, his voice a dark, seductive whisper that sends your brain into orbit. "You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Be a good dancer and let go, show me how well you can perform."
It’s not a question; it’s a command. And with one final, skilled stroke, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiralling into a climax that tears through you, leaving every atom in your body shaking with intensity and your muscles instantly tensing, just to relax once again.
As the tremors subside, you feel his hands shift, fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings. “We’re just getting started,” he murmurs, a hint of something dark and promising in his voice. Slowly, he pulls them down, the fabric dragging against your skin, heightening your sensitivity. “You’re still tight,” he observes, voice low, almost thoughtful. “We need to work on that.”
He positions himself behind you, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the cool air against your bare skin. Pushing his joggers and boxers down to his thighs, he lets his hard cock spring free, your body shielding it from the mirror in front of you, but as he drags it along your folds, you get a sense of the thick, long shaft he is about to impale you with.
His hand moves to your hips, guiding you, adjusting your stance, and your hands find home on the mirror in front of you, fingers splaying across the cool glass. “Arch your back,” he instructs, voice firm yet gentle, as if this were just another rehearsal. “Relax into it…let me in.”
With a measured, almost calculated precision, he enters you, the sensation of him filling you completely making you gasp. In the mirror, your reflection catches your eye, your mouth falling open as you watch him disappear inside you. “Oh god,” you moan, the image of your bodies coming together, the way he stretches you, only intensifying the sensation. “Sunghoon…”
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you, pulling you deeper into the moment. “Look at yourself,” he commands softly, his breath hot against your ear. “See how your body opens up when you let go? When you stop fighting and just let the movement happen? That’s how you get perfect lines.”
His pace is slow at first, methodical, every thrust a deliberate stroke meant to coax your body into submission. Your eyes lock onto your reflection, the sight of his hips moving against yours, the way your skin flushes with arousal, captivating. “Fuck, your pussy is sensational,” he breathes, a hint of strain in his voice as he pulls back slightly, only to push deeper. “Almost as good as your allegro.”
You let out a broken moan, your gaze flicking between his intense expression in the mirror and the way his muscles are contracting in his arms as he firms his grip on your waist, focusing on pounding into you with fervour. “Sunghoon… more… please…”
Each movement of his hips is like a masterclass, each squeeze from his hands and twitch of his cock only making your body ache for more. “Don’t hold back,” he whispers, his grip on your hips tightening, pulling you closer. “Let your body respond to mine.”
Your eyes widen as he leans forward slightly, the angle allowing you to see more of him in the mirror, his jaw tightening with every thrust. “Feels so good,” you manage to gasp out, your voice breathy, desperate as you push back against him, trying to take him deeper. “Please, don’t stop…”
The mirror reflects the sheen of sweat forming on your skin, the way your body arches into his touch, how every line of your form matches the rhythm he’s set. Your body moves with his, every thrust pushing you closer to that edge again, every word sinking deeper into your mind. His hand slides down your stomach, fingers finding your clit once more, adding that extra layer of stimulation that has your legs shaking. “That’s it,” he coaxes, voice rich with approval. “Give in to it. Let your body move the way it wants to…the way it needs to.”
“Sunghoon… oh, god… I’m gonna-” Your words cut off in a whimper as his pace quickens, the pace he sets becoming more intense, more demanding, each thrust designed to unravel you, to push you past your limits.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs into your neck, his gaze flickering up to meet yours in the mirror, watching how your breath fogs up the glass in front of you and your fingers claw down the flat surface in an attempt to grip onto something tangible. The sight of you coming undone in the reflection only seems to spur him on, his hips snapping against yours with renewed vigour.
“Sunghoon, I-” you try to speak, but the words dissolve into a moan as he thrusts deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur and stars dance before your eyes, the bell of his cock kissing the sensitive spot inside your walls.
“Show me,” he commands, his voice like a conductor’s baton, directing the crescendo. “Show me how beautifully you can fall apart.”
Sunghoon’s arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling your trembling body back against his chest. The new angle allows him to thrust even deeper, the motion sending shockwaves of pleasure through you, each stroke of his cock searing itself into your memory. You feel completely filled by him, the sensation overwhelming as your reflection quakes, your body obeying every demand he silently makes. Your muscles clench around him, and as your head falls back against his shoulder, you cry out his name.
The mirror captures every detail - the flush of your skin, the arch of your back, the way your mouth opens in a silent scream as another intense climax rips through you. This one is even more powerful than the last, leaving you utterly undone, your body shaking in his arms as he holds you steady.
As the waves of pleasure begin to ebb, your eyes lock onto the mirror once more. You see yourself as Sunghoon sees you raw, vulnerable, but also strong, capable of surrendering and finding beauty in letting go. For a moment, all you can see is the perfect dancer he’s crafted, the one who’s learned to trust the rhythm and fall apart beautifully.
Chasing his own release, he begins to buck his hips in a fast, sharp manner, aware that two orgasms on your end could make you extra sensitive. Your pussy milks his cock as he cums deep inside of you, his nails scratching your hips and down your ass, as he moans out your name, chanting it like a hymn during confession.
His chest heaves against your back and he kisses anywhere he can on your neck and shoulders to ground himself in the present, bringing himself down from his high.
As he slowly slides out of you, his arms never leave your body, keeping you close. He gently lowers you to the ground, sitting you down and holding you against him. Your body feels like jelly, completely spent, but his embrace is comforting. He presses soft kisses to the back of your head, his breath warm against your damp skin.
"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tender, full of pride.
You tilt your head back slightly, looking up at him with a small, exhausted smile. "I don’t think I’m supposed to be this relaxed when I perform at the exhibition," you manage to say, a breathless giggle escaping your lips.
Sunghoon chuckles along with you, the sound vibrating through your body where you're pressed against him. He shakes his head, brushing a few strands of hair away from your sweaty face. "No, you should have some feeling in your bones," he agrees, wiping the moisture from your brow with the back of his hand. "But do you see how, when you let yourself do what your body wanted, you felt a million times better?"
You nod, the memory of the intensity still fresh in your mind. "Yeah…I did. It felt different…freer."
"Exactly," he says, his eyes softening as he gazes at you. "That’s how ballet is supposed to be. You can’t bring emotions to an audience if you’re too busy concentrating on getting the next move right."
"But Mrs. Yang always talks about perfection," you counter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "She says, ‘You need to be perfect to achieve perfection.’ She repeats it all the time."
Sunghoon sighs, a look of understanding crossing his features. "It’s the same for us," he admits, his tone tinged with a mix of disdain and resignation. "Every skate has to be better than the last, or else you’re a failure." His voice carries the weight of someone who’s heard those words too many times, who’s internalised them and yet knows there’s more to the story.
"But perfection isn’t something you learn from a textbook. It’s not something you can force." He pauses, looking down at you, his expression thoughtful. "You need to find your own colour, your own style. That’s where true perfection lies - when it comes from within, not from trying to meet someone else’s standards."
You hold his gaze, the truth in his words sinking in. For years you have tried to live up to Mrs. Yang’s expectation that you lost your real love for the art. Or maybe, not lost the love, but rather buried it under the weight of being perfect.
"But…what if I never find it? My colour."
Sunghoon’s lips curve into a small smile, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin. "To be honest, you’re better than most. You’ve got the skill, the technique, but you’re holding yourself back because you’re so focused on being perfect." His eyes bore into yours, sincere and encouraging. "You need to let your posture breathe, stop worrying about being flawless, and just…dance. That’s what’s holding you back - then you’ll find it."
His words resonate deeply within you, stirring something that’s been buried under layers of self-doubt and external expectations. "So I just need to let go?"
"Exactly," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "Let go, trust yourself, and let your body move the way it’s meant to. Just like we did there."
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your shoulders lift just a bit. "I’ll try," you whisper, the words carrying more determination than you thought possible.
Sunghoon smiles, a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture so tender it nearly makes you melt. "That’s all anyone can ask for," he murmurs, his voice reassuring.
You nod, feeling a newfound resolve build within you. As you sink deeper into his embrace, the world around you seems to blur, leaving behind the certainty that you’re ready to let go, to embrace the dancer you’ve always been meant to be.
After a moment of quiet, Sunghoon pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips, grounding you. "How about we get you cleaned up, and then we run through it again?" he suggests, his tone light yet purposeful.
You smile, the idea of starting fresh with this new perspective sparking a sense of excitement in you. "Yeah," you agree, your voice steady. As Sunghoon helps you to your feet and fixes your outfit for you, you feel your heart burst with determination and adoration, both for ballet and the man in front of you.
You’re going to have to thank Mrs. Yang for this by giving the most passionate performance at the exhibition.
Maybe Sunghoon can keep coaching you until then. You do need to work on your flexibility after all…
fwb has to be one of my absolute favorite tropes ever, and i kind of got a little carried away writing this so. idk here’s a drabble LOL
warnings: pining (sort of. if you squint maybe), PinV, fingering, squirting, oral (f. rec), unprotected sex (it’s not really specified but i also don’t mention a condom so…wrap it before you tap it), pull out method
hard hours: open (bnd, enha, &team)
when the offer was originally proposed to you, you gave him a weird look. one of your closest friends since high school was asking to be friends with benefits?
on the other hand…what else did you have going on for you to say no? what reason would you have had? you didn’t think for too long, accepting the new title.
so that’s how you got to where you are now, in sunghoon’s bed wearing nothing but a bra and panties as his hands roamed your body, his touch light as a feather. you pulled him down into a kiss, one that seemed to hold nothing but desperation.
you could feel him pressing against you, his hard cock against your clothed core. you left out a whine.
the two of you had sex frequently, more so, whenever one of you were horny or lonely (or both), you would ask to meet up. there was almost never any question anymore.
he ruts against you, his breath heavy against your lips. you needed him, bad. he treated you so good, it often had you wondering if this could ever be something more than just sex.
that’s when you remind yourself that he has other women in his life. you’ve seen how he looks at them, talks to them, flirts with them. and you’re not them. your relationship with him was good. you had all the fun without the worry of an actual relationship. you were friends.
you kiss him again and he groans into your mouth as he reaches a hand down to palm at himself. he reaches over and pulls your panties down, his finger dipped between your folds, the wetness allowing him to move easily.
it sent a shiver down your spine.
“more…” you whispered, biting your lip softly.
he pushed a finger into you, your pussy clenching around it, desperate for his touch.
“so wet for me, so needy..” he said softly against your skin, pressing kisses along your face and neck. his free hand was used to help hold you still.
by the time he introduced a second finger, you were struggling to stay still, even with his help.
he fucked you with his fingers at a quickening pace, curling them inside you at just the right angle.
“ffuck…” you whined, your head falling back against the pillow.
“gonna cum for me? cum all over my fingers?” sunghoon said through heavy breaths. his eyes were glued to the sight of his fingers entering your pussy, and he knew you were getting close.
you couldn’t even speak, not with how fast his fingers move inside of you. you let out a high pitched moan as your orgasm washes over you, pushing your hips up against his fingers to help ride out your high.
“so good for me…such a good girl for me…” he praised you, his fingers leaving your pussy, bringing them up to his mouth, licking the wetness off of them. fuck, you hated the way he knew what he did to you.
you were so sensitive, but you continued to crave his touch, and he hadn’t seemed to be done yet, not with the way his face was between your thighs, his hands rubbing gentle circles against your legs. he pressed soft kisses around your core, teasing you lightly, causing a soft whine to escape your lips. he licked a stripe up your folds, reveling in the taste.
he used his tongue skillfully, getting lost in your taste. he thumbed at your clit while his tongue continued to explore. your hands gripped at his hair, needing him closer somehow.
he could tell you were getting close again, but this time he pulled his face away, sitting up.
you whined, “no…”
he laughed softly, “don’t worry. gonna fuck you so good…”
your head fell back again as you could feel his hard cock line up with your pussy.
he watched your face for any sign of discomfort as he pushed into you. you grabbed at the bed sheets, feeling him fill you up.
he started to move, fucking into you at a pace that felt just right for both of you.
“oh fuck- keep going..” you pleaded, eyes rolling back in pleasure as you could feel your orgasm start to build up inside of you.
“gonna cum again? already?” he teased you, his breathing getting heavier by the second. he was getting close too, you could tell.
“your pussy’s so good…gonna cum soon…” he continued, groaning softly as he fucked into you. he used one of his hands to play with your clit, the stimulation adding up.
the pleasure inside kept building up until you could feel it snap inside of you, washing over you, “oh shit- cumming…” you whined out best you could, your release spilling out of you around his cock as he fucked you through your high.
the sight was unbelievably hot, and he pulled out quickly, using his hand to push himself over the edge, releasing over your stomach.
as you both came down from your highs, you watched as he started to clean the both of you up, helping you get redressed.
right. it’s over now. you’d leave to go back home and probably wouldn’t see him again until one of you were in need of a quick fuck.
being friends with benefits had it’s benefits…but it also kind of sucked when you could feel yourself falling hopelessly in love.
SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead.
AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.
AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...
wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️
a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.
you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate?
you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his-
the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open. you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default.
it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete.
you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside.
it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible.
you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn.
not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you.
you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world.
that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today.
you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right?
though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”
it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you.
“you okay, y/n?”
you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that?
but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”
they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever.
you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less.
the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore.
the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen.
after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train. although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere.
you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway.
you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once.
so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown,
wait a second-
something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?
you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well.
you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you.
you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—
have you met before?
you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform.
a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.
“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings.
his only response is a blink.
it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment.
you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it.
“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…”
you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop.
that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.
“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes.
“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”
your mouth drops open.
“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands.
the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively.
“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“
you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-”
again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away.
the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”
his next words make your blood run cold.
“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n—who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists.
“who are you? and why do you look just-?”
“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”
you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction.
it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting.
he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense.
his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.”
“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“
“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.”
before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off.
you can call me niki, his words echo in your head.
his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—
you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision.
all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong.
you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t.
to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t.
and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was.
things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on.
following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast.
It wasn’t physically possible.
you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died.
niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.
niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you.
“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes.
“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”
he raises his eyebrows.
“me? explain?”
you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“
“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes.
“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”
you sigh, rubbing your temples.
“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”
he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore.
“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you.
the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.
his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.”
you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”
“yeah. are you?”
“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!”
he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.
you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform.
“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”
his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter? that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”
he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.
“obviously not, because that’s dumb.”
you scoff.
“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“
he glances at you and you tense,
“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters.
you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”
there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly. “i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.”
you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around?
he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.”
the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place. except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in.
“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces.
“i know. there were police here for days.”
you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when?
you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened?
“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth.
soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away.
“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door.
you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books.
you pause, “yearbooks?“
he nods, “yeah, our school’s.”
strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home.
but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page.
“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.
“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...”
you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name,
nish—
he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones-
ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you.
just like niki. you were actually speechless.
eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches.
“no way—”
“—and there’s you.”
it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you.
almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo.
according to niki, this you is dead?
you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on?
the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?”
you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“
he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.”
you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer,
“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”
you don’t know what to say.
could it actually be?
what other explanation could there be?
“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.
“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—”
you do air quotations,
“—switch dimensions to another world?”
niki shrugs, “no idea.”
he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”
his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”
you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?”
“what?”
you glance at him questioningly, “what?”
niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”
you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath.
“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”
you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.”
“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.
“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.”
“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation.
“well, it actually happened last thursday.”
you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up?
“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance,
“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.”
at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise.
at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in.
you?
a suicide at school?
what about your family, your friends-
“no,” you whisper, shaking your head. “i… i would never-“
you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”
his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“
unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.
that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-
was just a stranger to him.
yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits.
it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression.
“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.
“are you sure that i-i did it?”
you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs,
“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got.
your face hardens.
“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?”
his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.
“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?”
something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.
even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”
despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you.
you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”
he stiffens, “what?”
you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.”
you need to. for yourself.
niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“
“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”
he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”
you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.”
he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him.
“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door
“wait! you’re being serious?!”
his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”
“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.
you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”
he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.
“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”
“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender. annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.
“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”
“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.”
niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe.
“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand,
“miss imposter.”
you take it gladly, harshly. “don’t call me that-“
“my name is y/n y/l/n.”
you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.”
to which you almost punched him.
but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful.
“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.”
“what about clothes and toiletries?”
he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.”
you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here.
a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?”
“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.
“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”
you hold back a laugh at the words.
clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle.
“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?”
“apparently a horrible one,” you snort.
after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation.
“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”
“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow.
you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay, smartass. then how do we get in?”
“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.”
“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him.
the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort.
niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard.
obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness. you wondered if they were staying with other family.
or were they at work? so soon after your death?
you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.
the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.
you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall
you glance down at niki.
“can you make it?”
he scoffs,
“easy.”
it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point.
you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down.
you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”
“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”
“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.
niki’s eyes widen.
“be careful, y/n.”
“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion.
without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you.
your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open.
“you got it?”
“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window.
finally, you can breathe.
it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation.
after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room.
all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you.
a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation.
at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room. not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,
“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”
he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”
“oh.”
the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”
he nods and begins to snoop around.
“wait,” you call out hesitantly.
niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.
“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.”
he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.”
you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.
you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-
“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face.
you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?
niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen-
wait a second,
your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things?
you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t.
“don’t!”
his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view.
“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows.
“no? am i not supposed-“
“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”
you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.
he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile.
“you can proceed!”
he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one.
you pull out…
a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room?
and even more so, why was it hidden?
niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open.
“a box of chocolates?“
he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”
“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter.
niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance.
“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?”
he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”
you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind.
after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious—
like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different.
just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be.
“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”
niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.”
you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one.
“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.
“what day and time is it, currently?”
“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”
“when does the police station close?”
dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?
luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.
niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“
his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”
you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”
you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“
you grin. “onwards, then.”
“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”
he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”
“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.
he nods.
“illegally?”
he nods again.
you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?”
he shrugs, “probably.”
“good thing i’m not from this world.”
perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.
“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft.
you gulp, “i guess i should.”
you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead.
you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.
“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”
“are you sure?”
“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice.
niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.
“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.
“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”
you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.”
“then what?”
you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.”
you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-
it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-
you squint.
the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-
your thoughts are interrupted by niki.
“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”
he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone.
but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.
“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.
“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests
you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day.
“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”
he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”
you nod, “okay.”
it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead.
were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops?
more like, if anyone cared?
while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror.
yes, you affirm, you’re alive.
you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts.
but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink.
everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-
a knock on the door makes you jump.
“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“
the door swings open.
you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.
“goodnight, niki.”
you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks,
“night, y/n.”
it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore.
you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights.
in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.
you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.
“niki?” you say quietly.
another shuffle.
“yeah?”
“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”
there’s a pause.
“about you?”
“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”
niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure.
“y/n, what are you trying to say?”
you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter.
“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”
“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts.
you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face.
the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you.
especially about what you said.
niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.
he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused.
why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it.
meanwhile, you stayed at his home.
thinking.
thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead.
you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously.
you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki.
you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.
however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”
he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”
you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!”
he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further.
“you must’ve been bored without me.”
that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so). sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.”
but you knew he was right and he knew it too.
“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown.
“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…”
“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.”
you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.”
you nod, “that’s good.”
“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”
you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday.
“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”
you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look.
“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?”
niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.”
instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof.
“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step.
“step? as in, my case?
“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”
you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were.
“okay—shoot.”
what was the worse thing he could suggest?
“we should sneak you into school-“
your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?”
niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did.
“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”
“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker?
“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.”
you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.
“fine.”
niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,
“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?
he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.
“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“
confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about?
“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket.
you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.
you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly.
“you’re actually being smart...”
his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation.
you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?”
he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…
“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.”
“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly.
niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?”
you falter. “huh? it isn’t?”
he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.”
you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.
“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”
turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice.
niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger.
meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair.
you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him.
on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.
he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms.
instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart.
after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head.
“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.”
please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort.
you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself. “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“
you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways.
“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.
he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.”
he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect.
niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.
with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal?
normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends.
on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive?
“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes.
“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?”
“am i actually loaded in this world?”
niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“
you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know.
“how much are you talking?”
he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“
you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed.
“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.”
you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?”
he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace?
“what?”
you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are?
“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?”
then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?”
you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…”
suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide. panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—
straight into the locker.
your own locker.
you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime?
in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise.
no way. park sunghoon was in this world too?
you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?”
really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out.
“sorry. that was me, pres.”
it was niki’s voice.
you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon.
“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily.
sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.”
niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.”
“alright, see you later.”
you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave.
but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker.
your heart rate picks up. did he notice you?
however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back.
you frown—what was that?
after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms.
“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself.
“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.
“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”
“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.”
“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“
“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off.
you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed.
everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace.
you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”
one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace?
“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.”
you sigh. next time.
it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it.
the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice.
tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis.
niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven.
niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused.
he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“
all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door.
“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“
the door handle begins to turn.
you and niki share a look of panic.
your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath.
“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume.
“nope. just me.”
you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was.
“it was just probably the video i was playing.”
“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her.
you let out an exhale of relief.
“y/n?” you hear soon after.
“under here.”
you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed.
you meet his curious eyes. cute.
“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off.
“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”
“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“
“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it.
“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?”
he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp.
you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours.
niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead.
is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat?
niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere.
“so, uh, i had an idea.”
“yeah? what’s up?”
“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”
“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point.
“you got the charger, right?”
niki nods, taking it out of his pocket.
it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end.
when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing.
“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.”
“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.”
you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger.
“okay. now we wait.”
niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”
he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”
you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id.
as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth.
“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”
you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it.
“oh my god.”
“don’t even-“
“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”
you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.”
niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”
you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.”
niki notices the sour expression on your face.
“oh. you don’t like him?”
you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”
you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him.
besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words.
“good to know.”
“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.
but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace?
and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind.
“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully.
“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”
“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”
“well, i’ve got a task for you.”
niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public.
he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them.
and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you.
danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”
“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”
haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.”
she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears.
niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it.
you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing.
everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died.
the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone.
you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness.
you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name.
“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side.
his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face.
what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion.
“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind.
“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace.
“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice.
his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world.
he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again.
niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep.
you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before.
somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table.
11 am. niki must be at school still, you note.
you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass?
niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay.
when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk.
went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me.
niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud.
he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day.
he’s scared.
niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure.
he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.
tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected.
you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall.
you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.
niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged.
then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.”
he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.”
you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”
“okay,” niki repeats.
it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.
suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain.
the rain doesn’t stop.
and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly.
“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly.
“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.”
“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically.
he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self.
“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”
“but-“
“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.”
you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“
niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”
a challenge was a challenge.
you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun.
“just so you know, i technically won.”
you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“
you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified.
niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”
“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout.
“what do you want to eat?”
“anything. i’m serious.”
niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food.
“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”
you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly.
“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze.
“how’s this one?”
you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.
“i think this one fits you more.”
as he grumbles, you laugh.
“fine, but i get to choose yours.”
he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”
you splutter, “but that means-“
“yes. i’m the princess.”
“obviously,” he adds.
in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow.
“i’ve never done this before, so…"
instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes.
“what now?”
niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”
you’re at a loss for words.
niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”
“o-okay.”
you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.
“hey, this photo came out good!”
“but what happened to the first one?”
you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek.
it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way.
it was something you had never felt before.
“..-y/n?”
“huh?” you snap out of your trance.
“i said, you can keep this copy.”
you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“
“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay.
you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off.
on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.
“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”
“whatever you say, mr. responsible.”
he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.
that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events.
“niki?”
you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”
“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”
“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”
“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”
“what? what do you mean?”
even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you.
“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”
“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.
“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”
niki grimaces.
“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”
“nope. what are they like?”
he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”
“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.”
you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps.
now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking.
your specialty.
niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart.
as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed.
and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers.
that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it.
you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn.
“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”
you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”
“what were you doing on my phone?”
you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you.
“oh, and?”
you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face.
that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone.
you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-
it was so close.
the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night.
he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”
you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?”
he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.
and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.
it was time to confront the truth.
you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted.
this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it.
you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor.
you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it.
and hearts next to sunghoon’s face.
horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth.
during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up?
just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts.
and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar.
he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops.
you sit on the floor next to the lockers with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care.
the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket.
you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been.
“y/n!”
great, now you were hearing things as well?
furious footsteps stomp towards you.
“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”
“n-niki?” your eyes widen.
before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet.
“why would you come to school without me?”
for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?”
he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“
“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“
a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”
you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction.
he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium?
“why are we-“
“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”
after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence.
niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”
you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!”
“you don’t understand,” his voice raises, and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him.
“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”
at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down.
“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter.
you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life,
you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you.
and this was the first time you felt wanted.
you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him.
when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.
without a second thought, niki pushes you.
he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—
straight into the pool.
your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later.
he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago.
you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air.
after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air.
“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”
you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”
you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”
he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”
you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.”
“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”
after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part.
growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”
you thank him and he looks around awkwardly.
“what is it?” you squint at him.
“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”
you soften, eyes falling to the floor.
“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.”
you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can.
niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”
“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”
“w-what? but how?”
you shake your head. he goes to hug you.
you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face.
“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.”
niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”
he wonders why you say you and not we.
at that, you falter.
“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.”
niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”
you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.”
it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home.
“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes.
and he looks back at you with pained ones.
niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in.
the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.
it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway.
you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.”
the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were.
you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears.
“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.”
he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.”
if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world.
“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper.
“how will you even get back home?”
you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”
niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”
as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky.
the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket.
you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.
while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”
your body trembles, “i don’t know.”
“then… will i ever see you again?”
you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry.
yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”
niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already.
“this is it,” he says.
but neither of you move.
“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces.
“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.”
you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.
“i promise i’ll find you again.”
he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.
crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one.
you never knew niki’s name.
and then everything fades into nothing.
that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go.
then, you’re gone.
in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together.
all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting.
but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore.
and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers.
you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform.
niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second.
when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there.
he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing.
after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him. niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time.
when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved.
and then he’s free.
epilogue...
you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that.
there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy.
ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.
even after graduating, it never left you.
you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto.
“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in.
they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.
you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”
he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled.
“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize.
“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”
you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.
“me?”
he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile.
“my name is nishimura riki.”
first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!
warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (female receiving), public sex, sex under the influence, praise kink, breathplay, groping, dirty talk, doyoung lifts the reader at some point
summary: “If there was one person you’d imagine taking as a plus one to your cousin’s wedding, it definitely wouldn’t be Doyoung - your definition of a sour know-it-all in flesh and bones. Blame it on your friends that are never there when you need them, or your annoying curiosity for his cold demeanor, but there he is, downing expensive champagne with you.
One glass and you can still stand him.
Two glasses and he’s not so bad after all.
Three glasses and he’s in your bed.
Does the boy drive you mad or are you mad about the boy?”
“This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had in the one year we’ve worked together. I don’t think you're smooth enough to convince me to sleep with you. Besides, didn’t you say you’d never sleep with me like, ten minutes ago?”
“That was different. Now I have something to prove.”
“Which is?”
“That you still find me attractive enough to sleep with me.”
“Please”, you scoff, “don’t flatter yourself. In fact, I bet you can’t turn me on even if you tried.”
“Oh really?”
“Yup. You can try. Right now.”
Doyoung goes silent in thought for a couple of seconds, looking more determined than ever when he speaks again.
“Can I touch you?”
“Yes”, you answer immediately, gulping dryly at the thought of your coworker’s hands on you.
“Okay.”
a/n: This is my extremely late submission to @slightlymore 's Doyoung collab "mad about the boy" <33
general taglist: @naomis-sins , @jjaeyoonoh, @infnteen , @babyksworld, @kaja2016
“What do you mean you only have a room with a double bed?”
Your fingers threaten to rip your hair out with how tight your grip is on your locks, trying your hardest to explain to the young receptionist that you’ve explicitly requested a double room with separate beds. You must look so miserable, huffing and puffing in the lobby of this beautiful summer resort that your cousin booked for her wedding. Stoic and bored, your plus one waits for you to get your room card already, toying with a plastic spider plant next to your luggage in the meantime. As if the whole thing doesn’t bother him in the slightest. As if he doesn’t hate you just as much as you do.
You met Doyoung at the high school you work at. He’s a Physics professor while you teach Math, and for the rest of the teaching faculty this was enough of a reason to convince you to go on a date with each other. “It’s meant to be!”, they’d tell you during break time, urging you to go up to him and ask for his number. Your mouth would gape in shock as they’d recount stories of how fun he was at their birthday party, or how helpful he was in their time of need. A new student would come up to you every week, handing you a hand-written love letter with trembling hands, and ask you to pass it on to their favorite Physics teacher.
What was so great about the guy anyway?
He’s handsome, sure, long limbs and royal stature making him stand out in the crowd. His rich academic career and leading abilities demanded respect from his colleagues, while his youthful face made him approachable to the students. If you wanted something to be done and executed well, you’d leave it up to Mr. Kim. But why should all of this matter to you when the guy hates your guts from the moment he stepped foot in this goddamned school?
You can only conclude he does, with the way he avoids you like the plague. Parent-teacher meetings, field trips, school dance chaperone duties - he’d change and bend the schedule so that he ensures he’s in the same room as you for the least amount of time possible. Your wounded pride combined with his cold demeanor was enough for your silent hatred towards Doyoung to slowly boil in your heart.
Your third cousin’s wedding invitation got shipped to your house on a cold winter night. The ceremony would take place on an island three months from now, while the accommodation and plane tickets would be covered by the couple. She actually used to teach at the same school as you, something that brought the two of you closer, and while you love her to bits you also want to block her on Facebook so, so badly. You can only handle so many posts of her perfect dog and her perfect house and her rich husband that flies her out to Bali every summer before you lose your mind.
When you opened up the envelope, a black tear full of your mascara soiled the pretty handwriting. You were finishing up a bottle of wine, mourning the end of your latest relationship - a personal trainer who convinced you to sign up to his stupid gym and couldn’t make you orgasm even if he had a gun pointed to the back of his head. “Fuck you!”, you screamed at the lifeless piece of cardboard as you drunkenly circle that you will bring a plus one, and he will be much more fun and interesting and hot than the all-purpose flour of a man your cousin’s getting married to.
You only got reminded of your drunken mistake a week before the wedding, when your cousin called you to confirm you’d still make it to the venue with your company. Stressed and confused you said yes, as you’d rather die than admit that it was all due to an unwanted gym membership and a head full of alcohol. Plus, you really wanted to be there on her special day. It wasn’t like you couldn’t find one person to bring along, right?
Wrong. You were stuck on your phone for an entire day, your ear burning from the overuse and the heat of the consecutive rejections from your friends and family. A birthday party, a football game, a baby shower - they were all seemingly more important than a week’s notice destination wedding, each apology pushing you deeper and deeper in your quicksand of desperation.
You moaned about it to one of your teacher friends and fellow wedding invitee that Monday at the break room. You’d all met when your cousin still used to work at the school.
“I’m really sorry y/n. I’d come with you but I’m bringing my husband along”, she cooed apologetically, rubbing your loneliness even harder all over your face. “Why don’t you ask someone from here?”
“No one’s available this weekend”, you sighed out, pointing at the people in the room one by one. “She has a kid, he has vacation leave, her dog is sick, his wife would say no and -“
“I’m free.”
Your finger wavered awkwardly, pointing at the person whose name didn’t even have the chance to leave your lips. Doyoung didn’t move his head in your direction, even though he was addressing you, his hand still robotically grading a student’s test with a red ballpoint pen.
A sharp pain numbed your side as your friend nudged you excitedly, her face stretching out in a suggestive smile.
“See? Mr. Kim will take you! It’s about time you two get to know each other better”
“Oh no you don’t have to!”, you reassured him with a voice two octaves higher in pitch, “I’m sure I’ll find someone -“
“It’s fine”, he interrupted, removing his glasses and finally looking at you. This was one of the very few times his eyes fell on you, and you know this because the same chills run through your spine every time they do, “Think of it as returning the favor for that one week you substituted me when I was sick.”
Now that sounds more like him, calling it even. Not wanting to be indebted to someone he dislikes made sense to you, but spending an entire weekend with them to do so is still a bit much. You opened your mouth to argue back some more, when your friend managed to speak up before you did.
“Great, it’s decided then! As always, Mr. Kim is the man to step up when someone is in need”, she sang and Doyoung flashed his gummy smile at her, the sight so foreign to you that you had to blink twice to make sure you weren’t hallucinating from a caffeine overdose.
The bell rang and with it he got up on his feet, collecting the rest of the papers to be graded and making his way over to your desk. He looked like an Italian supermodel with his expensive slacks and poise in his walk, and when he gave you a small piece of paper with his number written in bright red ink on it, your friend almost passed out in sheer thrill.
“Text me the details, I’ll come to pick you up after work on Friday”
And that he did, carrying your overfilled suitcase with impressive ease all the way to the airport. The ride there was just as awkward as you imagined it to be, with the two of you switching the other’s desired radio station back and forth. It was insufferable just how stubborn he could be, and with every minute of silence you got from him the more it became clear to you that bringing him along was a terrible idea. The plane ride was just as boring. Even his socks annoyed you, grey and lifeless and something your grandpa would wear. Come to think of it, your grandpa would have made a more entertaining plus one than Mr. Downyoung.
Defeatedly, you take the room key from the receptionist and call for Doyoung to follow you to the fourth floor. He refuses to let you carry your luggage to the elevator, making the rest of the hotel staff coo at what they probably thought was a couple starting their summer vacation.
As soon as the mechanical door slides closed you sigh in frustration, rubbing your temples to alleviate some of the tension in your body. You wish you could just travel through time, fast forward the whole three painful days to come until you’re lying comfortably on your bed again.
“It’s impressive, really”, Doyoung deadpans just as you thought you might’ve actually forgotten what his voice sounds like, “You’re a math teacher and you can’t do the simple task of booking the right room.”
“I told you”, you groan, exasperated, “I asked them for twin beds.”
“Well did you call to check again yesterday?”
“No? Why would I bother the couple for something so trivial?”
“Trivial”, he repeats lowly as he stares at the floor buttons glow one by one, the elevator music taunting him. “I’ll sleep on the couch”, he states after a second of silence and follows you down the hallway.
The room was really nice, you admit, decorated modernly and with a beautiful sea view from the big balcony. But there was no couch. Only a luggage rack and an armchair, both too small and uncomfortable for either of you to sleep on. The bed on the other hand was long, perfect for Doyoung’s height but not particularly wide, forcing the accommodated couples to get closer for a couple of nights. You groan at the uncomfortable realization, and slowly start to unpack.
“The wedding rehearsal starts in half an hour”, you remind him as you unzip your suitcase, flipping it open, “we should start getting ready”. He lets out a hum of acknowledgment, and hangs a nicely tailored cobalt blue suit in the available closet space before he grabs another outfit and locks himself in the bathroom. You take this as a chance to quickly change in the bedroom, opting for a light dress that fits the hot climate of the island. You were freshening up your makeup when you hear the lock click open, and then your jaw drops.
You’ve never seen Doyoung look like this in your one year working with him. He’s wearing a patterned shirt, the coral reds of the flowers on it bringing out his porcelain skin beautifully. It is slightly unbuttoned at the top, letting sharp collarbones and a couple of stray hairs peek out, and your imagination takes liberty in heading even more south. You just can’t believe Mr. Kim hid such thighs in those grandpa slacks, a comfortable pair of shorts melting over them now instead.
“What is it?”
His voice jolts you out of your dream zone and your face burns from getting caught. His calculating eyes stare back at you, and your mini dress suddenly makes you feel naked.
“Nothing, you just look- different.”
“Bad different?”
“No no!”, you exclaim, pulling up some more fabric over your decolletage. “I’m just so used to seeing you in those boring black and grey sweaters”
“Ouch. You’re not runway ready either”
“Ugh- You look good!”, you blurt out frustratingly and then yelp, cringing at your slip up. “I just wanted to give you a compliment, damn. Can we go to the main hall now?”
Doyoung thanks you under his breath, muttering something about the color of your dress and reminding you to take the room card with you before you head out.
The wedding hall was absolutely beautiful. Tulle decorations welcomed the guests right off the gate, evening light shone beautifully through the windows. People were bundled together in small social circles, and the foreign faces made you stick even closer to Doyoung’s side. You notice that he’s wearing one of those sweet-smelling body sprays, and the scent is so surprising for him that it excites you.
A female shriek makes you fall with your ass back to reality, and you’re suddenly engulfed in a tight embrace. When you realize it’s your cousin, in a white simple dress that resembles a wedding gown, you relax into her arms, glad to have actually made it.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy you’re here!”, she exclaims in genuine joy, and before you manage to take a breath she already moves onto her next victim.
Doyoung freezes in the hug, not used to your cousin’s affectionate nature and trying his hardest to at least pat her back in the confinement.
“And you brought your boyfriend with you! Oh, he’s so handsome! Are you guys thinking about taking the big step? Y/n, you better squeeze your way forward during the bouquet toss-“
“He’s my friend!”, you interrupt her, your heart pounding from the series of inappropriate questions. Doyoung snickers at the word ‘friend’ but you ignore him, focusing solely on your cousin once again. “He’s my coworker, actually. Doyoung’s a Physics teacher.”
“Ohh, I see. You say physics but I see a lot of chemistry between you two~”, she lilts suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows in the process. “Wait- is that Mr. Kim? The new, hot, young teacher that you told me all about?”
Fuck, you forgot about that. A couple of months after your cousin moved schools she’d suggested you go out for a drink or two to catch up. Things were still new with Doyoung and your first impressions were quite good, especially considering his looks. You may have gotten a little drunk that night and spilled way more than you should’ve.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“The Physics teacher, yes! My replacement! You said how he’s all serious and proper and probably nasty in be-“
“Y/n! Mr. Kim!”
The sound of your coworker’s voice sounds like honey to your ears as it interrupts the embarrassing conversation, and you use up the extra time it takes for her and her husband to greet the bride to cool yourself down. You still haven’t checked up on Doyoung, you don’t dare to look at him, and you can only hope he somehow didn’t finish the rest of that sentence in his head.
“I was just chatting up with my cousin’s plus one over here, so tell me- is it true that they came as friends? I don’t buy it.”
“If anything there’s always a lovers’ quarrel between the two.”
“I work better in more organized environments”, Doyoung butts in. You can’t keep yourself from rolling your eyes.
“And I work better with people who actually take the time to talk to me. You know, the bare minimum.”
“Oh come on y/n”, your coworker nags as she stands between the two of you, looping each hand through one of your elbows, “didn’t you say the other day that he was frustratingly fuckable?”
“You must’ve misheard me”, you murmur from her left side, “I probably said he is irresistibly punchable.”
“And you, Mr. Kim. Don’t pretend like you didn’t ask me if y/n was single on your first week at the school.”
Your head snaps at the speed of light, eyes studying the man who hardly wobbles on his two feet under the weight of the accusation. Why on earth would he ask if you were single? Why would someone who barely handles being in the same room as you even care about that? The signals were mixed, swirling with each other inside your head and you have to order your heart to stop beating so loudly before someone hears.
“Leave the kids alone”, the husband sighs, just a little more exhausted from the conversation than you, “don’t mingle in their personal business”
“We’re just happy they’re spending some quality time together”, your cousin says, and you wonder which part of the silent airplane trip or elevator argument would even qualify as that, “How about you all take your designated seats now?”
You shuffle with Doyoung through the row of wooden chairs, searching for your names in the printed papers that lay over each of them. You don’t comment on the previous conversation, at least not until you’re seated, not sure which one of you will be more flustered at the mention of what was said.
“So we’re friends, huh?”
“You’re the one who offered to come with me to this damn wedding. Don’t act as if I dragged you here.”
“I just saw someone needing my help and I-“
“I’m not your damsel in distress.”
Your icy tone makes him flinch and he loosens one more button of his shirt, in need of more air. The exposure of his skin makes the atmosphere feel stuffy, and it’s easier to blame it on the humid climate of the island than the indisputable sexual attraction you have towards him. Why did his thighs have to look so damn good in the middle of an argument?
He’s about to say something back when the bride-to-be slowly starts walking down the aisle. Everyone is in their casual clothing, someone’s unruly child cries in the background. The wedding planners are running around in pure anxiety to get everything right, yet the sight is still undeniably beautiful. You notice your aunt tearing up in the background, and you cannot blame her. Your cousin is absolutely glowing even in her simple slip dress, smile beaming as she locks eyes with her fiancé. There’s a clear moment of realization in their eyes, like the fact that they’re about to start a new chapter in their life finally kicked in.
You steal a quick glance at Doyoung, curious of his reaction. He’s probably thinking of how little they’ll last. How marriage is a stupid little social construct. How no woman could ever be a match for a great brain like-
“Doyoung, are you crying?”
Your date jumps at the sudden interrogating question, quickly rubbing the wet corners of his eyes with the thin fabric covering his shoulders.
“It’s a beautiful moment”, he sniffles, and clears his throat after his voice cracks a little. You still stare at him incredulously. “What? Are you that shocked that I have a heart?”
“Kinda.”
The morning light kisses your eyelashes through the window, forcing them to part. The first sound that your ears pick up is that of running water, nicely mixed with the birds’ song coming through the window. Checking your phone, you realize you overslept, with the wedding being only a couple of hours away. You’re lying right in the middle of the double bed, your roommate already awake and taking a morning shower, apparently.
Last night’s events flash before your eyes like a film strip. Remnants of embarrassment from having to ask for three extra pillows from the reception desk warm up your cheeks. Then the both of you, two fully grown adults, went up to your room to line them up in one straight pillowy border that separated the double bed evenly. Your blood boils at the memory of Doyoung telling you, a math teacher, that you weren’t dividing the mattress into two even halves. “I wish I could split you into two even halves”, was the last thing you remember murmuring before falling asleep. Curious, you look around for the missing pillows, noticing they’re scattered on the floor, and that is when the bathroom doorknob turns.
The first thing you notice is Doyoung’s naked torso, toned abs and tiny waist triggering your eyes to close. You feel him move towards the center of the room, and when he turns around to look for something in the closet you squint your right eye open to steal a peek. His hair is damp, waterdrops falling from the edge of his locks and dancing over his shoulder blades. You follow one as it travels down from his broad shoulders to the deep line of his spine, landing on the towel that hangs lowly from his hipbones. He bends over then, showing off a nice outline of his ass, and you are so invested in the view that you barely manage to go back to feigning to being asleep when he walks towards you.
You feel the bed dip next to you, and a little droplet of water falls on your cheek. His chuckle almost startles you as you fake deep, steady breaths.
“You know, I never pictured you to be a cuddler.”
Pretending not to hear him, you keep your eyes shut tight, yet you can’t stop the blood from accumulating on your face.
“As soon as you fell asleep you threw all the pillows to the floor and grabbed on my waist like a koala. It was cute.”
Cute.
The urge to scream and hide and ask about the details of your embarrassing actions was overwhelming. You can feel his hot breath as he examines your face closer, begging your racing heart to calm down when he chuckles again. A small yelp leaves your lips when you feel a towel thrown at your body, convinced that it is the same one you wished would magically slip off of Doyoung’s hips a minute ago. Opening your eyes, you see his lower body covered still, and yours veiled with a clean hotel robe.
“Stop playing dead, you’re a terrible actress. You should go get a shower now if you don’t want us to miss the wedding.”
You swirl the champagne around in your glass, staring at the bubbles that float to the top until they burst one by one.
The ceremony went as smoothly as the rehearsal, with the sky staying bright and the bride looking brighter. Nighttime came already, and everyone had now settled down for the reception, gathering around their designated tables. Your eyes wander away from your drink for a while, focusing on Doyoung’s lithe fingers instead. They toy with a small baby’s breath from the bundle of flowers you caught earlier during the bouquet toss: your cousin couldn’t have aimed at the top of your head better even if she was a javelin throw champion.
The mere sound of his breathing next to you annoys you at this point. By the end of the night, there wasn’t a single guest at this damn wedding that didn’t gush over your date. Why the hell did he act so completely different when he was around you? What kind of sick satisfaction did he get for being an ass?
“Are you ready to address your little problem?”
You feel the little hairs on the nape of your neck rise up as his low voice grazes your ears.
“What problem?”
“Your little staring problem. Staring at me to be exact.”
Instantaneously, you rip your gaze away from his hands, glaring at the glass in front of you instead as if it was the most interesting thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t try to catch me naked this morning.”
“Excuse me?”, you shriek before lowering your voice after collecting a few worried stares from the people at your table, “I didn’t ‘try to catch’ you. You got out of that bathroom barely naked on your own!”
“Oh?”, he feigns surprise, his lips forming into a smirk that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to kiss or punch off his face, “I thought you were asleep?”
“I was trying to save us both from the embarrassment”, you mutter under your breath, placing the back of your palms on your cheeks to force your face to cool down.
“In my defense, I didn’t know you’d wake up anytime soon. You were snoring really loudly.”
“So while I was sleeping I snored, threw the pillows off the bed, and cuddled you”, you groan, exasperated. A numb headache was moving slowly but steadily from the inside of your brain outwards, and you try to shut it out by pouring yourself another glass of champagne. “Great. Anything else?”
“Stop drinking so much”, Doyoung scolds you, grabbing the bottle out of your grasp just as you manage to fill your glass to the rim.
“Doyoung. I had at least ten people today ask me when I’m getting married when I don’t even have a boyfriend, and now I’m stuck in this lame wedding reception with a person who hates my guts. I am going to drink. Now if you pulled that stick out of your ass and had a glass yourself maybe we’d even manage to have some fun instead of subjecting me to that nonstop nagging of yours.”
“You tried to kiss me.”
“What?”
“Last night, in your sleep. You tried to kiss me.”
Frustrated with the situation you found yourself in and completely embarrassed, you have no other choice but to take a brave sip of the champagne you just served, emptying half a glass.
“Guess I’m doing charity while sleeping. If you’d experienced the loving touch of a woman maybe you wouldn’t be such a dick.”
“When your friend said that you were wild in bed I didn’t think that practically attacking me in my sleep was what she meant.”, he fired back, ignoring your insult.
“Did she tell you that before or after you asked her if I was single?”
“Like I would ever sleep with you. You’re insufferable.”
“Please. You’d probably cry after I was done.”
Doyoung scoffs and grabs the champagne bottle again, this time filling a glass for himself. He downs the drink in one go, and the burning in his throat fires a new passion inside him.
“Fine. You want us to have fun? Let’s play a game then.”
“A game?”
“Yes”, he replies, determined, and fills both of your glasses again. “We’ll ask each other questions. It can be anything, but we’ll answer genuinely. If you don’t want to answer, you drink. Got it?”
“Fine, but I’ll go first.”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you offer to come with me to this wedding? And I want a real answer.”
“Do you really think I hate you so much?”
“You can’t answer my question with a question!”
“Technically, it’s a clarification. Doesn’t count.”
“Oh my god, you’re so annoying”, you groan, wondering if it’d be against the rules to drink even if you don’t lose a round, “You barely talk to me at the school, you avoid me and argue with me on practically anything. So I’d say yes: I do think you really hate me that much.”
He sighs and withers in his seat a little, looking regretful.
“I don’t hate you. I think you’re a good friend. And a brilliant teacher. And you can be fun when you want to be. That’s why I came with you to the wedding.”
“You still haven’t stopped arguing with me since we came here though.”
Doyoung shrugs.
“It’s hot when you talk back.”
He doesn’t look at you, his hands and eyes occupied on the baby’s breath from earlier to ease his nerves. Just as you open your mouth to say something, he asks you a question.
“Why didn’t you say anything after I came out of the bathroom this morning? You know, to let me know you were awake? I truly thought you’d be sleeping. I mean, you yell at me for way less.”
For a passing moment, you consider drinking and opting out from giving an answer. Your hand twitches and almost reaches out to the champagne in front of you, yet eventually, you decide against it. The questions will probably get gradually harder anyways.
“At first I saw all the pillows on the floor. I was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, the door opened and I panicked. And then…”
You hesitate to continue further.
“We said truthfully, remember?”
You exhale a deep breath out.
“Then I saw how you looked fresh out of the shower.”
“And?”
“And I wanted to look at you a little more.”
Doyoung hums, the corner of his lips tugging up subtly.
“If you don’t actually hate me, why do you avoid me at work? And don’t you dare deny it.”
The man next to you laughs, dropping his head back and letting his black locks hang freely. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol that’s heightened your senses, but you submerge yourself in the silvery sound of his laughter. You stare at the pretty blue veins on the side of his neck, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down. When he smiles like that he looks nice, you think. Mellow.
“I take my work very seriously. I want to do things well. And when you’re around, I can’t do that. You distract me, I guess.”
“I distract you? How?”
Doyoung’s eyes rake at your body twice, suddenly making you overconscious of every inch of skin that the mini dress you chose to wear tonight manages to cover up. Or rather, the parts of your body that it doesn’t.
He doesn’t answer further, drinking instead. You can see his eyes getting glossy from the alcohol, his pupils dilated. You’re certain you look like that as well.
“My turn. At the rehearsal, you were shocked that I teared up. Do you not believe in marriage?”
“I don’t know about marriage”, you admit after pondering for a bit, “But I do believe in lifelong partners. Do you?”
“I want one”, he confesses, “But I don’t know if I’m meant to have one.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know”, he sighs almost defeatedly, a bitter smile on his face, “I’m scared of that level of happiness, I think. I tend to avoid love.”
You both take a drink out of your glasses, feeling like it’s needed after a conversation like this. As you wait for Doyoung to come up with another question, you gaze at your cousin and her husband slow dancing in the distance. The sight triggers a stinging feeling of longing inside you, pulling on your heartstrings.
“Did you really say I was ‘irresistibly fuckable’?”
You blink three times at the unexpected question, cursing your friend under your breath and her big mouth. The kick that the champagne gave you allows you to answer way more bravely than you normally would.
“I think we’ve made it clear by now that we both found the other attractive when we first met.”
“When we first met? Not anymore?”
“This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had in the one year we’ve worked together. I don’t think you're smooth enough to convince me to sleep with you. Besides, didn’t you say you’d never sleep with me like, ten minutes ago?”
“That was different. Now I have something to prove.”
“Which is?”
“That you still find me attractive enough to sleep with me.”
“Please”, you scoff, “don’t flatter yourself. In fact, I bet you can’t turn me on even if you tried.”
“Oh really?”
“Yup. You can try. Right now.”
Doyoung goes silent in thought for a couple of seconds, looking more determined than ever when he speaks again.
“Can I touch you?”
“Yes”, you answer immediately, gulping dryly at the thought of your coworker’s hands on you.
“Okay.”
The first thing he does is grab the apron of your chair, dragging you closer to him. Worried, you look around you for the reaction of the people also sitting at your table. No one seems to really pay attention to you; some of them had already withdrawn back to their rooms, the rest focusing on the people grooving on the dancefloor. The cool night breeze grazes your bare arms, making you shiver.
“Relax”, Doyoung tells you softly while taking off his jacket. You watch entranced at his shirt hugging his chest, the white fabric stretching over his biceps. His fingertips pet your nape then, sweeping your hair to the side before throwing his jacket over your shoulders. The heat emitted from his body warms up your side, making you melt in your seat.
And then he places his left hand on your knee under the table. Closing the small distance between you, he lets his lips touch lightly the shell of your ear.
“Tell me when to stop.”
He starts off relatively gently, drawing circles on your bare skin with his thumb. You look at how short the skirt of your dress is, regretting your decision to leave your thighs exposed like that. You’re making his job so much easier.
“You like that?”, he asks you then, the rasp of his voice sending another shiver down your spine.
“It’s indifferent to me”, you lie, making him laugh.
“God, why are you so tense? To quote you, if you pulled that stick out of your ass maybe we’d even manage to have some fun.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
“You’re into anal baby?”
“I-”
Doyoung laughs again, his gummy smile contagious. His naughty kind of humor surprises you, and the nickname sends a wave of warmth to your face. A small moan leaves your lips as he drags his nails lightly against your skin.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“I want to make you feel good.”
His fingers move up higher, to the fleshier part of your thighs. He keeps drawing the same design over your sensitive skin, and you soon realize that it’s actually his name.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“W-What?”
“I didn’t think anything could top that summer dress you put on yesterday. But then you wore this-”
He points vaguely at your black strapless dress, eyes dark as they take you in.
“You like it?”, you ask boldly, not easily intimidated.
“I’d rip it off of you in a heartbeat if you let me.”
You squirm in your seat at his words, feeling wetness pool between your thighs. Desperate, you cross your legs to discreetly rub your thighs together, hiding your arousal from the sharp observer next to you. Doyoung doesn’t let you off the hook, kissing his teeth disapprovingly at your movement.
“Did I give you permission to do that?”
“You’re not the boss of me, Kim Doyoung.”
You’re almost panting under the pressure of his stare, feline eyes commanding you to do as he says. His hands squeeze the meat of your thighs in a warning, making the rings he wears dig deeper into your skin.
“I won’t ask again. Spread those little thighs for me.”
Feeling small, you uncross your legs back to their previous position, parting them slightly.
“Good girl.”
All your thoughts evaporate in an instant when you hear him praise you. As his fingers move to the highest part of your inner thighs, just a few inches away from the place that aches to have him most, you can only hope he mercies you. You barely make the conscious effort of biting your tongue to not make a sound and attract unwanted attention. The tablecloth can only hide so much.
“So, are you ready to address your little problem?”
“My staring problem?”
“I was talking about the one between your legs this time. You’re soaking.”
A needy sound from the back of your throat reaches Doyoung’s ears, breathy and desperate - exactly like he wanted to have you.
“You sure moan a lot at my ‘indifferent’ touches.”
His fingers still pet your inner thighs, reaching the crease of your hips now. You can feel his digits spreading your wetness around, fully dipped under your dress.
“All this mess for me? How cute.”
You’re on the verge of losing your mind, right in front of all these people, especially when his index hovers right over your-
“Enough!”, you squeal before he gets the chance to gain full control of you, admitting defeat. Doyoung retracts his hand slowly, almost disappointedly, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
When you see him lift his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, you can only finish your glass of champagne to cope.
You were two of the last people to leave that ceremony, your little game keeping you occupied. The small path to your hotel room was void of any people, with only the sound of your heels interrupting the lulling sounds of the night. You almost trip in your step and you blame it on the wet poolside tiles, yet you know that that’s not the reason. Doyoung’s suit jacket is still hanging comfortably from your shoulders, his scent coiling around your body and making your head buzz even harder.
In a moment of forgetfulness, you get an intrusive thought asking you where you’d kept your room key. Halting abruptly, you start looking through the contents of the tiny bag you dragged along in panic, Doyoung staring at you questioningly.
“I can’t find the room key.”
“You asked me to hold it, remember?”, he reminds you calmly, fishing the keycard from his slacks before putting it back in his pocket.
You sigh, exhausted. “You’re right, sorry”
“You seem distracted”, Doyoung observes, “Is it because you lost the bet?”
The clacking of your heels stops again.
“What? I didn’t lose!”
“You let me touch you, I did. You liked it and asked me to stop because you couldn’t handle it. I think this qualifies as a win.”
“I couldn’t handle what?”
“It felt too good'', he shrugs.
“Right”, you spit sarcastically, knowing damn well he’s right but still arguing with him like it’s a reflex. “I was worried I was gonna cum from you rubbing my knee so hard. Oh Doyoung, don’t tell me that’s where you think the clit is.”
The man addressed kisses his teeth, trying to ignore how good you look in his jacket and how the ripples of the pool water illuminate your face. You’re overwhelmed by the animalistic instinct to keep the argument going, wishing it turns into something else. The champagne made you both a little too bold.
“Like you could do any better.”
“I absolutely could.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I’d have you begging for it.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Before any logic manages to make its way to the decision-making part of your brain, you shove Doyoung to the nearest wall, pushing your body against his. He smells even nicer in this proximity, the scent of his aftershave added to the things that mess up your thinking, yet you don’t let that distract you from your goal. Taking his larger hands in yours, you guide them across your waist to your lower back, right over your ass.
“You talk a big talk for someone who admitted to wanting to rip my dress off of me tonight.”
The man swallows dryly, eyes staring down at your exposed chest. You see his eyes open wide for a second before diverting his attention to the pool in the back, anything to take his focus off of you. The hardness that is poking your thigh is telling enough. You grab his chin, making him look at you again.
“You’re making this very hard for yourself by pretending like you don’t want me, Kim.” Determined, you start a line of kisses across his jawline, sucking lightly on the skin below his earlobe. The moan he lets out makes your knees shake a little. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.”
Unable to contain himself, Doyoung lowers his hands enough to grab your ass. You mewl in his ear at his roughness, just to taunt him.
“Shit, y/n.”
“I’m not wearing any underwear, thought you’d like to know.”
You can’t look at his pretty face, yours still buried in his neck, but you can clearly sense the torment he feels.
Finally, he gives up.
“Fuck this”, he mutters, pulling you into a kiss.
Doyoung moves his lips against yours deeply, with need, like he knows he’s never gonna get enough. You kiss him back just as eagerly, letting your tongue slide against his. The kiss feels perfect, as if his lips were only meant to be pressed against yours. Your whole body buzzes in the desire to make up for lost time.
“I want to taste you again”, he whispers into the kiss. “We can go back to hating each other in the morning.”
Doyoung slips from your hold then, falling down onto his knees. His hands move upwards from your calves towards your thighs, pushing up the fabric of your mini dress until you’re exposed enough for him. He leaves a bite on the soft skin of your inner thighs, on the place that he pet so diligently under the table earlier tonight.
“You look good like this.”
Confused, he pinches the collar of his dress shirt, tugging it a little.
“In this shirt?”
“On your knees.”
He chuckles, putting his mouth on your pussy finally. His lips are plush and soft, his small exhales make you shiver. You look around for any unwanted viewers yet your mind goes blank once Doyoung starts to move his tongue. Every lick feels like heaven, circling around your opening and entering you with his tongue. Biting your lip to stay as quiet as you can, you lift your right knee and rest it on his shoulder, grinding against his face.
“That’s it, use me.”, he sighs against your sensitive skin, making you want to scream at the sensation. His hands find their way over your ass again, grabbing you gluttonously. The mess of slick and spit helps your movement, his nose bumping against your clit with every circle of your hips. You’re already on edge from his teasing earlier, and when he starts to suck at the sensitive nub, you just can’t take it anymore.
You come embarrassingly fast, whole body tingling as he continues to flick his tongue against your clit during your high.
“I…”, is all you manage to whimper, but Doyoung doesn’t need anything else from you. The sight of you falling apart against his face is more than enough, patiently waiting for your legs to stop shaking and cleaning up the mess between your thighs in the meantime.
With a satisfied grin and a half-soaked up face, he gets on his feet again, holding you by the waist so that you don’t collapse. You’re still drunk by the orgasm and a bit disoriented, yet you still manage to slip your hands between your bodies, finding the outline of his cock. You start to massage his member over his clothes and Doyoung hisses, buckling his hips against your palm. The fabric under your fingertips starts to get wetter by the minute.
“I want you in my mouth”, you confess, dragging the zipper of his pants down and freeing his dick. He feels hot and hard and so fucking big in your palm that your mouth waters, precum already dribbling from his tip.
He stops your lazy strokes with a hand on your wrist before he kisses you again, and you can clearly taste yourself on his swollen lips. Not one to easily give up, you guide the tip of his cock between your wet folds, languidly dragging it back and forth until he groans in your mouth.
“Not here. Let’s go to our room.”
You nod, almost too desperately, letting him lead you forwards as you separate your back with the wall. It could be the champagne’s fault for your disorientation but it feels like you’re moving the wrong way, yet you don’t want to part your lips from his so you trust him blindly. The last thing you remember was floating on air.
Before you feel your body submerging in the pool water, that is.
You spend a few moments in panic before you realize you’re underwater, Doyoung quickly pulling you to the surface. You’re both panting when you finally manage to breathe again, and you curse at him when he flicks his wet hair out of his forehead, the droplets blinding you.
Your small designer bag floats just a couple of meters away from you, everything inside it ruined but you’re too tipsy to care about it now. All it takes is a glance at Doyoung’s flushed face for a nervous laugh to bubble up from your stomach, contagious as it makes him laugh as well. This is the lightest you’ve felt in a long time.
He swims closer to you, and you instinctively wrap your hands around him, locking your legs around his waist. He looks so handsome in the fluorescent lighting of the pool, his wet skin reminding you how good he looked this morning when he came out of the shower. You appreciate the little droplets decorating his eyelashes, fluttering as he blinks, staring at you. He looks at you so deeply that you’re scared he’s gonna see right through you, past the layers of skin and bones, and discover something that you’re not ready to admit just yet.
“What is it?”
“Even now, you look beautiful.”
You’re taken aback by his compliment, your face getting hot. In the ambiance of the night, you fail to remember what it was about Doyoung that you disliked so much. He lifts his thumbs to your undereyes, gently rubbing the running mascara off your face. You lean closer, giving him a peck at first, your hands smoothing down on his chest before kissing him again. And again. And again.
Soon, your back hits the wall of the pool, your body trapped between the hard surface and Doyoungs warm body. He sweeps his tongue across your lower lips, asking to enter your mouth again and you gladly let him. You’re shamelessly making out again, in the water now, and you feel his right hand slide from your face to your neck, grabbing at your throat.
He breaks the kiss, taking the time to admire how good you look deprived of oxygen. Your eyes are unfocused, mouth gaping open and lipstick smudged, tongue hanging out slightly. You look fucked out and it turns him on, cock painfully hard under your bare pussy.
“But you look more beautiful with my hands around your throat.
A thumb rubs your cheek before moving down to press onto your lips, and you lick his finger tentatively before sucking it inside your mouth. Your wet tongue moves around the digit slowly, making sure you show him just how talented you are before you let him go with a loud ‘pop’. God, he regrets not taking up your offer earlier.
“I need you”, you mewl with the little air still in your lungs, and Doyoung lets you go to hear your voice more clearly. “I need you now.”
“Fuck, I can’t wait either”, he agrees, looking around to make sure no one’s around. He turns you around then, the front of his body pressing against your back, and you rest your elbows on the pool tiles in front of you. Doyoung hikes your dress even higher, over your hips, kissing the top of your shoulder sensually. “You’re gonna have to be quiet. Okay, doll?”
You blindly agree with his words, already grinding your ass against him. He growls at your impatience, stilling your hips, and blindly looks for your entrance. You both gasp when he bottoms out inside you.
“Fuck”, you mutter at the feeling of him filling you to your gut, the stretch starting a fire in your stomach. He reaches for your chest, letting your boobs spill out from the hem of your dress to play with. The sensation makes you shiver, whimpering when he starts to tug at your nipples. Doyoung’s fingers that you love so much intertwine with yours as he starts to push his hips forward faster.
The pace is barely manageable, and when you push against him he finds that spot that has you seeing stars. If you were bad at being quiet before you were terrible now, long moans covering the sound of the small ripples you’re both creating.
His palm startles you when it covers your mouth suddenly, your sounds successfully muffled by his chlorine-flavored fingers.
“What’s wrong, does it feel too good?”, he asks smugly, snapping his hips even faster.
Your pride crumbles as you nod, biting on his fingers as his own snake their way over your already sensitive clit. The circles he draws around it have your eyes roll to the back of your head, your body putty in his hold.
“You said you could take it, but here you are, moaning like you don’t care who finds you getting all fucked out in public.” You whimper in his hand, gasping for air when he lets you breathe again. “The only thing you’re allowed to say from now on is my name when you come. Got it?”
“Doyoung!”, you moan out when your second orgasm washes over you, hitting you so hard that you think you might pass out right then and there. Your walls clench around his length, triggering his own orgasm, and he quickly pulls out of you before cumming in the water. His arm is still protectively wrapped around you as he thrusts his cock over your ass, riding it out.
You swim in complete silence for a while, catching your breaths. Doyoung helps you pull down your dress, picking up the floating bag for you as well. His jacket had survived the fall, dropping from your shoulders right before you took your involuntary dive, and he gets out of the pool to retrieve it as well.
“Are you okay?”, he asks you softly, helping you get out as well.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
It only took a couple of steps for you to realize that soaked heels on a wet tile floor are probably a bad idea. You stepped carefully, trying your hardest to keep your balance but still looking like a deer learning how to walk for the first time.
You stare in confusion when Doyoung crouches in front of you with his back facing you.
“Hop on. It’s too dangerous for you to walk like this.”
“But I-”
“The reception is not that far. Come on.”
Reluctantly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, jumping a little for him to hold the back of your knees. The alcohol moves in your belly, making you dizzy, and you rest your forehead against the top of his head to ground yourself. You can smell the hotel’s shampoo he used this morning, and if you weren’t as embarrassed to have him carrying you you’re certain the scent alone could relax you enough to be put to sleep. You’re only hoping that he can’t feel your beating heart thumping against his back.
Doyoung doesn’t put you down even when you reach the elevator, the receptionists gossiping about you yet he doesn’t seem to care. You tap on his shoulder shyly, wanting to tell him you can handle it from here. Before you can even open your mouth, he repositions you higher on his back, his body language shushing you.
You wish you hadn’t caught your reflection on the elevator mirror. You’re both soaked to the bone, Doyoung’s clothes stuck on his body and his dying erection semi-visible on his thigh. His eyes are red from the alcohol and his lips pink from your lipgloss, but it’s not like you look any better. Your wet hair is messy, your makeup gone. You can’t wipe that stupid smile off your face.
He still carries you to the room, even opens the door for you.
“Here princess”, he mocks you, letting your feet touch the floor finally. You thank him quietly and move over to your suitcase, looking for your pijamas and some fresh underwear to put on. You’re not sure how to address the situation, it’s ridiculous how you can barely look at the man that just made you cum twice in the eyes. Not in a bad way, of course: he just didn’t feel like the same Doyoung that got in that flight with you yesterday, and you couldn’t stop the feeling of hope from growing enthusiastically in your stomach.
You grip the bathroom door nervously until your knuckles turn white, mustering the courage to spill out at least half of what you’re feeling. The sound of his name grabs his attention.
“What we did tonight-”
“...was a mistake.”
“Huh?”
You blink back at him twice, cursing at the tears that burn your eyes.
“It was a one time thing, right? Like I said, we’ll go back to hating each other in the morning.”
The room is dark, and you hope the dim lighting hides the obvious hurt that manifests itself on your face. You hate how a part of yourself still wants to grab him by the collar and take him in the shower with you. Beg him to love you again before that ‘morning’ comes. Kiss you so hard that he forgets whatever it is about you he despises so much that he can’t let it go. You can barely keep your voice from breaking.
“Right. I’ll take a shower and then I’ll pass out. Goodnight.”
“Good-”
You don’t let him finish, closing the door between you. He shouldn’t see you cry.
In the midst of all the laughter on such a beautiful morning like today, pressing on the power button of your phone while hoping it still works out of a miracle, you were the obvious stand out. You move your legs absentmindedly, only your feet dipped in the water, body slumped and looking miserable next to the children’s pool. You hoped that the sound of shrieking children might distract you from recalling the big rejection of last night, yet your growing headache makes you gradually regret yout decision more and more.
As you stare at a mother forcefully smear her child’s face with sunscreen, your phone still dead in your lap, your fingers toy with the buttons of your shirt. Doyoung’s shirt, actually. The same printed one he wore two days ago at the rehearsal. The need to have his smell on your body too intense for you to resist. God, you’re so pathetic.
“It looks better on you than me.”
His voice from behind you startles you, and before you can excuse yourself nicely he’s already taken a seat next to you. He looks rough, jaw stubbled from not shaving and with dark circles under his eyes. You wonder if he had a sleep as restless as yours.
“I know”, you reply and he chuckles. “I’m sorry for taking this without asking. I was planning on returning it before you woke up.”
“It’s okay”, he shrugs and you’re met with silence again, the atmosphere heavy with the memories of last night weighing you both down. You were ready to pretend taking a call from your useless phone when he speaks up again.
“Let’s play last night’s game again.”
“The question game?”
“Yeah.”
“Doyoung, I can’t handle any mimosas right now.”
“No alcohol, just questions. Just-”, he sighs, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just talk to me.”
“Theres nothing to talk about. We did what we did, you regret it. It’s fine.”
“No it’s not fine-”
“It’s fine!”, you insist, lifting your shoulders and dropping them again disappointedly. “I can’t force you to like me back.” You can tell your words upset him, but he still decides to let you finish. “But I was kind of hoping you’d at least be my friend.”
You hear a muffled groan from your side, turning to see Doyoung rub his face with his hands.
“I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“Why?”
“Because I do like you back.”
“You- you do?”
“God, y/n, are you serious? I’ve liked you ever since I walked into the school and saw you on the teachers’ lounge for the first time. I like the stupid pins you wear in your hair. I like the little songs you make up on Monday mornings. I like your handwriting on the chalkboard. I like the way you say my name, I like how you feel around me. And now you’re sitting next to me looking all pretty in my shirt and all I can thing about is-”
You press his open mouth against your lips, muffling his words, kissing him fiercely. He’s surprised but only for a second before the heat of your body thaws his frozen state, digging his fingers in your hair as he kisses you back. His rough stubble scratches your chin but the dull pain only makes you kiss him harder, pulling your body against yours until your heart hammers loudly in your ears. Your lips part open and tongues meet, minty from the toothpaste you used that morning and you’re ready to fully succumb under his body weight, let him lay those broad shoulders on top of you fully.
“There’s children around!”, an angry father from afar yells so you push him away, embarrassed, rubbing your lips. The pure serotonin that you get when you see his gummy smile again is irreplaceable, and you both laugh in the ridiculousness of the situation. You wonder what your coworker would say if she saw the two of you like this, getting carried away by each other at such a place, and you giggle thinking of her reaction. Doyoung is the first to speak.
“In conclusion, yes, I will be your friend.”
“Is that what you do with your friends?”
“Sure”, he jokes, and you shove him a little with your elbow. “I’m always here for you if you need shoulders to cry on”
“Awww”
“...or to lay your legs on.”
“Doyoung!”, you squeal and kick some water his way, like a cat that needed to be reprimanded. He laughs heartily, lightly, patting his skin that got wet dry.
“All jokes aside”, he adds, intertwining your fingers and resting your connecting hands on his thigh, “when we get back, I want to take you out on a proper date.”
“Fine”, you agree, giving him another kiss and hoping it won’t get you kicked out, “As long as you promise that you won’t throw us fully clothed in a pool again.”
“Keep it up and I’ll throw you fully clothed in a pool right now.”
This is just downright filthy. Probably the smuttiest jungwoo smut on the tumblr app. Literally almost a YEAR in the making. The product of much thirst, and much fondness<3 I hope the 20 other people on here who are JungPs enjoy :,) Edit: Fixed spacing, added word count!
Word Count: 7.8k
Warnings: Smut, mature themes, language, choking, semi-public, praise/degradation, dirty talking, hair pulling, name calling, the whole nine yards basically
When you and Jungwoo signed up to go on a Study Abroad getaway, you didn’t know you’d be chaperoned. It seems like you’ll have to keep your paws off each other. It’s only a semester without it, how hard could that possibly be?
Your back hits the door with a loud thud as you’re pushed up against it. In the tall boy’s flurry of hasty movements, you’re surprised you two even managed to get the door closed at all. Thank goodness you did though, otherwise the whole ‘welcome home’ party downstairs would’ve heard the feral sounds coming from you and Jungwoo. Any inhibitions you’d previously held about jumping each other’s bones the second you stepped off the plane were unceremoniously pushed to the side the moment the two of you locked eyes across Jaehyun’s living room.
Two months. It had been two months of subtly brushing up against each other at art museums, ducking behind some shrubbery to steal kisses, and desperate make-out sessions in the dormitory pool just before the curfew cutoff.
When you and Jungwoo realized you were going to be in the same group for your university’s study abroad program, you were over the moon. What could be more romantic than spending a whole Summer semester in Europe with the love of your life?
Well, what you two didn’t realize is that your hosting professors were not only strict but very old fashioned. Any students seen merely breathing suspiciously near each other were not-so-subtly separated by a guide “just passing through”. Under no circumstances were members of the opposite sex allowed to be together at the lodgings. So, needless to say it was a little hard for you and Jungwoo to get any alone time.
It wasn’t all bad! There were plenty of beautiful sights you saw together. Both of your camera rolls must have thousands of pictures and videos saved from these months alone. One of the guides even looked the other way so you could get a quick picture kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower.
But underneath the innocent smiles and gingerly clasped hands, you were just itching to get your hands on each other. Jungwoo has always had… a big appetite. Everyone knows his stomach is practically bottomless, but only you knew how much he craved… other things. You’ve grown used to it now but admittedly the beginning of your relationship left you both extremely surprised and extremely satisfied. You were a little flustered the first time he started begging you to let him eat you out… for the third time that evening. And you were even more embarrassed the very next day when he slipped a hand between your thighs on the couch, looking up at you with those deceptively pure-looking boba eyes. On a regular day he always had his arms wrapped around your waist or a hand gently resting above your knee.
He seemed unconcerned about the rule when you pointed it out on the sign up sheet, but slowly the lack of touch started to get to him. He’d stare at your lips while you’re talking, text you flirty little things during lectures, and leave you increasingly disheveled after your secret make-out sessions in the dorm pool. You could always feel how much he needed you rubbing up against your leg. Despite his ‘big problem’, he never went past making out. When things would get too intense, he’d always pull back and start helping you out of the pool so you didn’t miss curfew. You’d offered to help him out but he always blushed beet red and declined, saying something about ‘being too shy to do that in public’.
Not that he didn’t think about it. He probably spent more time thinking about doing dirty things to you than not! But in his mind, this is a matter of self-discipline. He’s a rule follower. A morally upstanding man. Beyond not getting in trouble, he had to prove to himself that he could last without needing to feel you. Although, even he started to notice how on edge he seemed to be at times. He was so beyond done with using his own hand to get off in the shower instead of yours. All he wanted was you. You certainly wanted him too, but there was nothing else you could do about it. Secretly though, you were kinda curious to see just how long he could go on like this.
You really notice him starting to lost his composure the third week of the trip. The guides took you to a small town in France to celebrate the conclusion of midterms with some delicious food and sultry evening atmosphere. After a few glasses of champagne, they were loose enough to stop counting how many students were behind them every five minutes. This is when Jungwoo chose to strike.
Absentmindedly staring at the sunset, your arm was suddenly yanked towards the opposite direction of the group. He was dragging you by your forearm so quickly all you could see ahead of you was your boyfriend’s ramrod straight back and the occasional glimpse of his exasperated expression. His eyes scanned over every inch of the architecture before him until he spotted a small opening in the side of an alleyway. It was dimly lit and vacant, every soul in the surrounding area seemingly went where your tour group was going. Perfect.
“Babe- Jung- wait-,” your words were drowned out by his mouth capturing yours, though they were only halfhearted hesitations anyways. His lean but firm arms boxed you against the wall of this enclave he’d dragged you into. His body was pressed flush against yours and you could feel his heart beating out of his chest. The stickiness of the humid night air made the exposed parts of his skin cling to yours in the hottest way imaginable.
Did you really want him to stop kissing you like his life depended on it? Absolutely not. But you were starting to get dizzy from the lack of oxygen, so you grabbed a fistful of his fluffy hair and pulled it backwards to get him at least a few inches away. He had the audacity to groan a little too loud in pleasure over the sensation. It reminded him too much of other things that made you yank his hair.
“Woo, you know we are in public what has gotten into you? If someone sees us or, or hears us, or…” You’re staring so hard at his swollen lips and flushed skin that it’s tough to concentrate on scolding him. Of course he knew to wear that black tank top, strategically exposing his strong arms. And his expensive watch you got him for Christmas that highlighted his incredibly attractive wrists and hands. And the chain necklace he bought at a pawn shop purely because you stopped breathing when he tried it on. With his chest exposed like that, all you want to do is rip that damn fabric off his body. …What were you saying again?
“I can’t take this anymore.” He leaned down to spatter kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders, “I want you so bad it’s killing me.” He relished in the small sounds he was drawing from your mouth. He hadn’t been able to hear them in so long (apart from in his dreams) that each one lit a small ember under his skin until it became a roaring bonfire. He stopped just in front of your right ear to whisper, “If I had it my way, we would have been back at the dorms having fun hours ago. Don’t think I haven’t felt your eyes all over me from afar the entire semester. Are you trying to make me lose my patience on purpose?”.
While it’s true that your lustful mind has been seeing even his Stussy t-shirts as lingerie, you never meant to do it on purpose. You are simply an observer in this little study of yours, waiting to see how long he can last before he gives in to his dirty thoughts. In hindsight, maybe you spoiled him too much and leaving him a little desperate could be just the push he’s been craving. He’s a bit of a freak in private, despite his shyness. Maybe he’s secretly enjoying being left high and dry. You were secretly enjoying watching his moral code start to dissolve.
Your vision is losing focus as his hand slides closer and closer to where you’ve been wanting it for weeks. His lower body is stuck firmly to your torso and you can feel just how much he’s been missing you through his jeans. His lips dive to capture yours again, and his tongue is in your mouth, and your hands are tangled in his hair, and you are mentally fully prepared to get your back blown out in a random French alleyway when you feel something buzzing in his pocket.
You both come back to reality when you realize his phone is ringing. He lets out the most frustrated sounding sigh you’ve ever heard, pouting against your lips before he pulls away. Your two sets of eyes catch the string of spit drawn between his lips and yours and he breathlessly laughs at this before reaching for his phone. The caller ID reads, “Mark Lee Bar”. Of course it would be fucking Mark that blue balls us, you think to yourself.
You feel like a pervert when the annoyed whine that comes from your boyfriend gives you goosebumps. “Hnnnnng this is so fucking, unfair- ridiculous-“ He thumps his finger on the answer button. “Lee Mark, if you are calling me for anything other than the French Royalty inviting our tour group to the castle, hang up. Right now”. Jungwoo leans his head down to rest on your shoulder in an effort to calm down. You take the opportunity to play with his hair a little bit. It provides you both the benefit of admiring the soft tendrils loosely falling through your finger, and the satisfaction of sending shivers up your lover’s spine.
“It’s not looking good man… the guides are sobering up and they’re deefffinitely looking for you. I can’t hear what they’re saying too much from our table but they keep like, asking for like, a tall guy with blonde hair and that’s gotta be you dude- one sec”.
You can faintly hear Mark attempting to order more drinks with his broken Toronto-French on the other end. Not wanting to waste this opportunity to get one over on your sexy guy, you ‘subtly’ shift your legs around until your thigh is right up against his dick through his pants.
As if it couldn’t get any worse for the two of you Jungwoo starts practically moaning into your neck, “Babe. Baby. Stop that- please fuck- oh my god”. Any attempts at authority from him are totally undermined by his desperately pitchy tone. Which, you knew would be filtering directly into the phone pressed against his cheek. You almost laughed out loud… almost.
“I’m sorry what was that dude? Look just get back here soon before they like, throw you in French jail or something. Although, you might wanna clean up a bit. I can tell I’m interupting some-“ you can hear his eyebrows raise, “passionate enrichment time?”.
Beep.
Saw that one coming. In Mark’s defense it must be kind of obvious considering you two seem to be the only students missing and Jungwoo was practically panting into the phone humping your leg a minute or two ago. Unfortunately, it was probably best for your future academic standing with the university that you two head back. Your lover hadn’t unglued his body from yours just yet despite having already hung up on his dear friend. “Jungwoo? We should probably go, I’m sorry baby I miss you so much too”. You rubbed some circles into his lower back and left a peck on his temple in an attempt to console him.
“God I need you so badly this is so not fair. I hate Europe, Europe is stupid”. His griping would be so hilarious if not for how legitimately dejected he seemed at the moment. After another minute of holding you in his arms he promptly stood up and readjusted himself as best he could to hide what the two of you had been doing since ‘accidentally’ losing the tour group. Once he was finished, he spun around to admire your beauty as you put yourself back together. No way was he gonna tell you your lips looked a little too swollen to be sunburnt. He had to let the world know you were his somehow.
“Let’s get going gorgeous”. The man-puppy hold his hand out for you to grab ahold of and leads you leisurely back to the intended tour destination. You remember making your excuse to a less-than-amused professor and hearing Jaehyun jeering your boyfriend from a distance.
But that experience pales in comparison to what happened in Berlin.
Fast forward about a month and a half. You and your cohort have seen Paris, Rome, Madrid, and Amsterdam. Each city was different and charming in it’s own unique way. Jungwoo and you had been on your very best behavior the rest of the trip, save for some risky texts sent to each other while locking eyes across lecture halls. Your professors in each of these cities continued to enforce their outdated stance on Co-Ed education, forcing even lecture halls to be “boys on one half and girls on the other”. But when your group arrived in the final city of your journey, Berlin, a new professor had joined the fray.
“Hello students, my name is Dr. Arno Hahn. I will be your professor for the remainder of your term abroad. I hope you will enjoy your time in my beloved city of Berlin. Sit with whomever you’d like, so long as you aren’t going to be noisy, and we’ll get started.”
Instantly a tall shadow appeared in the left corner of your vision and plopped down in the chai. Of course it was only Jungwoo, but you aren’t even sure how a human being could move so quickly? He set his textbook and bag down on the long wooden desk before you and lazily shot you a smolder, “Hey pretty thing, you come here often?”. You giggled at his corniness and his endearing dimple crested grin stretched across his face.
The class started soon after that. Notebook users scribbled down as many notes as they could, and many students could be seen rapidly typing away without even looking up from their laptops. About an hour passed by before you felt something creeping up your leg. When you shot a glance down you saw Jungwoo’s shoe touching your calf. Looking to the left, you gave your man a quick smile as if to say ‘you’re extremely cute trying to play footsie but I’m concentrating right now’, and you refocused on jotting down notes.
A minute passed, then once again you feel something touching you. This time it ghosted along the side of your thigh. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you a head rush, given how sex-deprived you were approaching the end of this trip. But this is in class, theres like fifty people in here. Sure you were seated towards the back of the hall, and nobody was behind you, but still! It’s about dignity. Or at least, that is what you were telling yourself.
You set down your pen and snaked your left hand down to gently pry Jungwoo’s off of your thigh. As your palm pressed against the top of his, he twisted his hand around in your grip until he had your fingers laced together. He squeezed ever so tight, teetering on the edge of painful, and made eye contact with you. He mouthed a silent, ‘Please, I want to make you feel good.” in your direction. His doe eyes, handsome face and extremely sexy forearms and hands definitely made it hard to say no. His pupils bore into yours as your considered his offer. He squeezed your hand again, and slowly moved his chair closer and closer to yours. Once he was within reach, he leaned over to whisper his pleas into your very flushed ear.
“My honey, just wanna help you hm? Wanna make you feel so good baby. I know how much you like my hands and I can give it to you right now, no more waiting, doesn’t that sound good? Know your pussy can’t go much longer without getting filled up by me, can you baby? This is my only offer until we’re back home. Take it or leave it.” He stamps his sultry proposal with a wet smooch to your ear before backing off. Every centimeter of skin that was touching yours vanished and, the little actor that he is, went right back to taking his notes as if nothing even happened.
Meanwhile, you are in a… state, to say the least. First of all: when did your sweet and gentle giant start having this ‘public sex’ streak? Secondly: why is the idea of having his long, boney fingers inside you during a lecture turning you on so much? Thirdly: how much longer is this stupid lecture going to be?
You’ve grown too hot to ignore his request. And you trust him with anything. So you grab his hand and place it back on your legs, this time far closer to where you actually want it. You make eye contact with Jungwoo again. You give a tiny nod to confirm that you want him, no, need him to deliver on his promise. His eyes swirl with an unimaginable sense of lust as a shit eating grin spreads along his face.
He gestures with his free hand for you to face forward and keep writing. You obediently pick up your pen and make your best attempt to copy whatever is on the board. Dr. Hahn is saying something, about… something. But all you can hear is the blood rushing through your ears and surely spreading to your cheeks.
You are so glad you wore your sundress today (most definitely what caused your lover to be so antsy) because it provides easy access for two cold fingers to gently brush over your still clothed slit. The long wait makes the sensation so intense you nearly cried out from relief. He rubs circles on your sensitive clit for a while, then ghosts his fingers down your folds, and back up to your clit again. He does this repeatedly in some kind of ritual to drive you genuinely mad with lust. Your left hand, which been wrapped around his wrist, starts to sink its nails into his skin.
Eventually he stops and wraps his digits around the positively ruined fabric of your panties, making you think he’s gonna move it to the side and finally scratch the itch to have some part of him inside you. Boy were you wrong. Instead, he pulls the fabric upward teasing pressure directly onto your sensitive bud. Your bottom lip is slightly bleeding from how hard you’re biting down in an effort to stay quiet. You cannot believe you let your boyfriend mind-melt you into letting him touch you in such a public place, considering both of you are aware of how bad you are at keeping quiet even in the privacy of your own room.
A demon of lust must have possessed your beloved in that moment. Because he takes the opportunity to lean over and whisper filth into your ear again. “You’re so fucking wet for me I bet Dr. Hahn can hear you all the way down there baby. You want my fingers in your pretty pussy hm? Do you? Answer me.”
The best you can manage is a very small and hopefully inconspicuous nod while the professor is looking at the board. Jungwoo seems to understand this. “You do? Well then, beg me.” You swallow heavily. You are definitely sweating, it has got to be at least 20 more degrees in this classroom than it was before. Where did he learn to talk like this?
“Did you not hear me? I said, beg. Out loud. Do it. Or I swear I will get up and leave you like this right now, probably dripping all over the chair like a whor-“
“Okay! I think after an hour and a half, a break is in order. Everyone get up and go get a drink and something to snack on. We will reconvene in 15 minutes.” Dr. Hahn announces before leaving, presumably to get his own refreshments.
The entire class gets up and slowly files out, chatting amongst themselves. After a few minutes of very tense waiting, you both breathe a sigh of relief when you’re the only ones left in the hall. Nobody spared a glance under your table. As bold as your partner is being now, he is still very shy at the idea of actually getting caught.
You swallow thickly and glance over at Jungwoo only to discover he was already looking your way with a fond grin. He slinked his hand away from you under the table causing you to let out a small whimper at the loss of his warmth. His other hand cups your cheek, softy caressing it before he leans in to steal a kiss off your lips. The kiss itself was very romantic compared to what had just occurred, you knew he was trying to make sure you understood he didn’t mean what he said. Even after all this time his sweetness still makes your heart do backflips.
When he breaks away he giggles cutely and starts packing up his things. You stare at him in confusion, “Babe we still have 30 minutes of class left after this break”. He doesn’t acknowledge your question, instead double checking that the few notes he had typed were saved to his laptop before shutting it off and sliding it into his bag.
Then he started getting on the floor.
You couldn’t be more perplexed with your lover’s behavior when that vile little smirk reappears before you. He shuffles a little bit until he has somehow fit his entire tall body underneath the desk. Wait… he’s not thinking…
“Kim Jungwoo. We’re gonna get caught if you do this.”
He hits his head on the roof of the desk and hisses in pain. “We won’t get caught, so long as you can just be quiet for once. You can’t see anything from the front”. Unfortunately he was right. The thick wooden tabletop folded over the front, forming a wall. It was made this way to prevent professors from accidentally looking up people’s skirts. Considering how you’re using it right now, it’s a pretty genius invention.
At this point Jungwoo was fully under the tabletop and seated between your legs. He started rubbing his cheek against your thigh, not unlike a dog would, in an attempt to convince you join his evil scheme. “Just want a little taste that’s all my honey” he cooed in a sickly sweet voice, jutting out his lower lip. Fuck. He learns far too quick how to push your buttons. He starts murmuring between kisses to your exposed skin. “Please? Pretty please? You can finally cum after all this time won’t that be so nice? Know my mouth can make you feel so good, just love you so much”. A knot you didn’t know was forming in your stomach began to tighten. This was so risky. You needed him so bad after getting cockblocked in four different cities, but the prospect of losing your academic and social dignity still weighed heavily on the your mind.
While you deliberate, Jungwoo crawls his hand up your leg to grab hold of yours. He drags your fingers down your lower body and plants it on his head. “I’ll let you play with my hair how does that sound?”. Meeting his eyes you can see the swirling darkness from earlier has returned, beckoning you to dive in. That little minx. His duality makes your head spin. One moment he’s swinging arms with you like a child as you wander the street of Germany, the next he’s convincing you to let him eat your pussy in a room full of people. You’d be lying if you said you wanted him to back away. You wanted to do this, needed him so badly. Fuck dignity. “Okay Ju-Jungwoo okay just, be quick about it.” The way he wiggled with glee should be downright criminal.
“Don’t worry baby, I know you won’t last long”. He wasted no time pulling your panties down to your ankles. He left small pecks all the way up your thigh. When he met your core, which was still leaking from earlier, you felt him practically purr in delight. As he kissed your clit, you heard the large classroom door swing open. A couple students had returned from the break and were still chatting away about their plans for the evening. You thought Jungwoo had chickened out since he froze for a moment but he soon went back to work. Running his tongue through your folds, following the same route his fingers had. Large hands moved down to hold your legs apart. You remembered yours was still enmeshed in his hair. Feeling bold, you gave it a good tug. Your partner hummed quietly against your clit sending shockwaves down your spine and your nerves into overdrive. Quickly you swung your head to the left to see if the other group of students had heard, but they were still just talking it up.
More students began to filter back in as Jungwoo lathed the pad of his tongue heavily up and down over your most sensitive area. Your grip on his hair tightened but you didn’t dare pull it again. You’ll have to remember to poke fun at him later. Jungwoo yanked you forward by your legs to get a better angle for his meal. Slowly he pushed his tongue inside as Dr. Hahn and the rest of the class returned. It took everything in you to be quiet but your grip on your boyfriend’s puppy-soft strands helped to ground you a bit.
“For this remaining half hour, there is a Ted-talk I would like to show you that may help you better understand the subject. It is about 20 minutes long and you may ask questions with the last 10 minutes of our time today.” The lights in the hall were dimmed, and the projector turned on. In a matter of moments the ‘Ted-Ed’ screen appeared at a moderately high volume. The perfect cover.
Jungwoo seemed to have this realization too, because he slipped his tongue out of you to push two of his fingers in. You couldn’t help but let out a hum at the stretch and hastily covered it up by clearing your throat. You faintly hear your boyfriend chuckle underneath you at your oh-so clever coverup. The pace his fingers set is unbearable. Thrusting in an out quickly like a well oiled machine. You start squirming in your seat, unable to handle the pleasure without moving. Jungwoo reprimands this by sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your thigh, a nonverbal way to say ‘Stop running away from me’.
You have no idea how nobody else in the room is hearing the way your pussy squelches with each thrust of his long, veiny fingers. Just picturing the image of what it must look like is enough to put you close to the edge. There’s just something about Jungwoo’s hands that drives you insane. The way he delicately manicures them, wraps them around his phone, draws circles with them on your back. Even the most mundane tasks he performs with his hands can set you ablaze. He will never let you live the ‘finger painting incident’ down.
You’re so lost in your dirty mind you hardly notice that he’s added a third finger, dragging you up to the threshold of your impending climax. He begins littering hot kisses along your legs again and you’re practically panting, yanking on his hair hard enough to send the message loud and clear that you’re close. He responds by latching his lips back onto your clit and sucking like his life depends on it. You feel his large front teeth bite down on your sensitive bud and suddenly you’re cumming so hard your vision is white. Somewhere in between la la land and the real world you get a hint of a metallic taste on your tongue. Presumably where you’ve split your lip open trying to be quiet. You start coming down to the feeling of Jungwoo’s hands gently caressing your thighs, massaging the tense muscles and leaving chaste pecks on any places he might’ve bit too hard. His touch conveyed the ‘Was so good, I love you so much”, that he usually blabbers out after a sex session.
Suddenly, the lights are flipped back on and through nearly closed eyes you see the projector screen being rolled up. “Alright, well I hope you feel a little bit better about what we learned today. I know everyone wants to get out of here and site see so if you have any questions please reach out to me via email or come early to our next class. Dismissed!”. You don’t have to wait very long for everyone else to leave though you had to stall with your bag a bit to convince the professor you weren’t lingering to ask a question.
When Jungwoo emerged from under the table his hair was sticking up in all directions and his face was covered inch-to-inch in blush. He was so red you thought he might pass out. You never want him to be too embarrassed, but sometimes when he does get shy he’s just too cute to handle. Despite being a little freaky during the act, he always hides his face in your neck after you get intimate back home. You can only imagine the level of sheepishness he is experiencing now. You laughed when he avoided eye contact with you and stood up to smooth his hair back down a bit and pull your probably ruined underwear back up under your dress. “You are so precious sometimes you know that?”.
A bashful smile and laugh took the place of his flustered pout. He stole one more quick kiss from you and laced your fingers together. “Don’t make me more embarrassed!” he complained while checking his phone. “Did you wanna go get ice cream from that place we passed on the way here? Jaehyun said he and Mark are already there since their class ended really early”. You nodded and let your handsome man lead the way.
This brings you back to the present day. Pushed up against the door of Jungwoo’s bedroom he’s renting in Jaehyun’s house. Suffocating under his relentless lips. He finally breaks away to hiss, “God it’s been so long, missed you, need to be inside you, wanted it every night”. Your shirt is pulled over your head and thrown across the room. The clasp of your bra is undone before you can even blink. The warmth of his mouth on your chest feels so good after so long. You could’ve cried if not for your animalistic need to have your boyfriend inside of you as soon as possible.
“Jungwoo please. Just want you in me. Need you to cum inside please, please”. You are beyond desperate at this point. That dark look in Jungwoo’s eyes is back again, “Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Can’t think without me being inside you can you? Pretty baby is such a slut just for me”. Your pants were unfastened and thrown as well, presumably landing in the same heap the rest of your clothes had been piled up in. He pressed his body against yours again, his mouth finding yours out of instinct. This time you were the one to end the kiss, putting a finger on Jungwoo’s lips when he tried to chase you down again.
“Its not fair that I’m the only one without clothes Woo. Let me help you out of yours”. You slide your cold palms underneath the bottom hem of his Stussy t-shirt. Massaging his abs and dragging your fingernails up his torso to tease him. A low pitched mix between a growl and a whimper emits from him. As your fingertips swirl around his nipples causing his breathing to get shallow, you get a dastardly idea. After tearing his shirt over his head, you sink down to your knees. Eye-to-eye with his swollen bulge in his pants. “You look so tense here too Woo. Poor boy. Don’t worry I’ll help you”.
Before he can say a word you’ve taken his cock out of his pants. He was so worried the very first time you’d sucked him off, “It’s a little big so just be careful don’t hurt yourself”. By now you knew just how much you could take of your boyfriend’s ‘gifted asset’ and he wasn’t afraid to let you have it. Gathering up some spit in your mouth you let it dribble onto his cock before engulfing the head. It almost sounded like Jungwoo was in pain he was groaning and huffing so loudly. You recalled that just outside this door was a huge ‘Welcome Home’ party full of fellow students that could probably hear him over the thumping bass if they stood close enough. Payback for Berlin.
As you sank farther down his length, swirling your tongue along the sides, Jungwoo’s sounds had turned to incoherent mumbling. “Mmhnm love you soomuch you’re so sogood. So hot fuck so hot. Wanna be in you wanna feel you. I can’t- fuck- can’t cum yet don’t wanna cum now”. He was practically fucking your mouth he was squirming so much. After another few minutes of your hot mouth torturing his length he laced his fingers in your hair to yank you off. “Gotta save it for inside you baby just like you wanted”.
You stand up and he starts shoving you in the direction of his bed until you both fall backwards so he can clamber on top of you. He must have stepped out of his sweatpants on the way over because his cock was standing proudly in his right hand as he towered over you to pin your wrists down with his left. He dragged his dick against your folds, covering it in the flood of slick that was already waiting for him. Every sense in your body was laser-focused on him. “You want my cock huh? Ready for me to finally fuck you open?” You almost gave yourself whiplash with how enthusiastically you nodded you head. “Oh no baby. That’s not how we ask” he chuckled cruelly, “Beg me”. All the hairs on your body stood upright. “Beg me like the good whore you are. Letting me push you up against a wall wherever I please, letting me eat you out and feel you up in front of so many people. You have no pride left to cling to. So don’t pretend to be fucking shy. If you want it so bad, beg.”
Where this sadistic demon came from, you do not know. But one thing is for sure, your mind is dangerously blank and you’re wetter than you think you’ve ever been in your life. Very aware of how red your face is, you attempt to quietly bargain with him. “Jungwoo I can’t its too-” “Don’t bullshit me. If you can speak then you can ask me nicely”. It seems like you’ve got no choice.
You swallow your pride as far down as you can bear and whimper, “Please fuck me”.
“What was that? I didn’t hear anything.” Oh my god you were gonna kill him after this was over.
Louder this time you utter, “Please fuck me Jungwoo I’ve waited long enough.”
“Hmm.” He seems to consider your response for a moment. “You can do better than that. Not nearly desperate enough.”
“Oh my fucking god please fuck me. Please. Need you to make me yours. Fuck me so good the way only you can. I’ll be your slut I’ll do whatever you ask just please fill me up”. You’re sure someone outside had to have heard all that but you couldn’t care less when Jungwoo shoves himself inside you at long last. The stretch hurts a bit but the relief you feel draws a loud moan from your chest. “Yes fuck please”. You lock lips again in a messy and desperate attempt to be as close as physically possible. A string of spit rolls down your cheek but you’re both so far gone there’s no way to determine who’s it is.
Slowly he pulls out and shallowly thrusts back in. Sex with Jungwoo isn’t normally fast or rushed, he’s the type to want to take his time and be in your warmth as long as he can stand it. But his strokes make your toes curl every time. They brush just over your sensitive spot and glide across your walls in the most perfectly satisfying way. He slowly starts to find a pace, thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm. The noises coming from your pussy are pornographic. The wet sounds are so loud that anyone would know exactly what you were up to. You would be a little embarrassed if not for the way Jungwoo was eating it up.
“Oh my god you’re so fucking soaked I’m gonna have to get new sheets” There are some who say laughing isn’t sexy, but the dark chuckle that comes from Jungwoo after that statement is downright nasty. “Fuck- you missed me huh baby?” you think you nod in response but you’re so concentrated on the pleasure that you’re honestly not sure. The skin-on-skin contact feels so amazing after so long. You’re hypersensitive to the places where the two of your bodies are stuck together, it makes your nerves set on fire and the knot in your stomach pull tighter. The way Jungwoo’s tall figure has to arch slightly to be above you. Giving you the perfect view of his toned stomach and arms. It’s like he’s everywhere. The thought of wanting him to engulf you in his entire being makes you feel so insane, but it’s so hot.
“I missed you too, missed the way you wrap around me, the way you sound, how good you smell,” he keeps talking in that condescending tone you like but you can hear the whimpering start to creep in like it does when he’s close, “Couldn’t stop thinking about having you, almost came in my pants in that alleyway when you pulled my hair,” the pace of his thrusts gets faster and sloppier, “You were so good for me when I ate you out in the lecture hall, so fucking hot. It’s like you’d do any filthy thing I asked just to get a piece of me.” He lets go of your wrists to slide his hand gently over your neck, he applies no pressure but the mere weight of his long, perfect fingers on your windpipe sends goosebumps trailing up your body. “Maybe I should hold out on you more often hm? If it makes you lose your mind this much.” He gives your neck a gentle squeeze and you quite nearly finish on the spot. “You close baby? Does my pretty slut wanna cum?” You answer in the form of a choked out groan. Hoping desperately that that would be enough for him.
Of course you really should know better than that.
You could cry when he suddenly slows down to almost nothing, shallowly sliding in and out at a snails pace. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “What did I fucking say earlier. Use your words or I’ll pull out and make you watch me finish in my hands.” You try to string together any coherent thoughts you have left. You come up with nothing but a jumbled mess of “Cum please”, “Please Jungwoo”, “Need it”. The way he laughs in your face as you desperately plead with him to let you cum is sinful. There’s a delicious duality at play between his calm and sweet tone and sadistic actions that drives you crazy. Your cries seem to have been good enough for him though, as he resumes his punishing rhythm a minute after. His breathing is ragged and the sounds of the party outside are completely drowned out by the squelching of your lower bodies. “Mmhmn fuck- baby you want it inside? Want me to fill you up? Make you all mine? Stuff you so full of my cum that Jaehyun and Mark can see it leak out tomorrow?”.
“Yes please, yes please fill me up, wanna be yours all yours” Your mind is going blank, you’re right up against the cliff. With your free hands you reach up to grab his hair, claw his back, anything to ground yourself for the impending fall.
“Cum for me baby cum all over me. I’ll fill you up just like you want.” With his permission, you’re shoved unceremoniously right off the edge. You can hardly see or breathe, all you can think about is how warm he feels, how good it feels, how much you love him. Jungwoo follows right after you, fucking you through your climax right into his own. When you come back down to Earth, his entire body is draped over your chest. Slightly crushing you, but you couldn’t care less. The primal need to have your lover’s skin and sweat on yours makes any discomfort insignificant. He’s panting so hard you fear he may pass out while still inside you.
“Baby? Woo? You okay?” You reach up to comb your fingers through his hair and rub circles on his back. He can be so rough with you, but he’s still your giant puppy when the deed is done. What came next was a surprise.
Jungwoo starts moving again.
“Ju- jung- babe what are you-“ Somehow he lifts himself back up enough to silence you with a sloppy kiss. The over sensitivity is sickly sweet. And the way his cum gets fucked out and leaks down your ass adds to the pleasure.
“Fuck- wanna be in you forever. Wanna lock you up here so I can have you all the time.” He sounds so desperate it’s killing you. His voice is almost on the verge of tears, as if not being inside you would be the most unimaginable tragedy to him. His reaches a hand down to swirl two fingers over your clit. You let out a borderline scream from the over stimulation. “One more for me? Please baby give me one more I know you can. Just one more for me my pretty. Wanna feel you cream my dick one more time”.
Well. Who could possibly say no when he asks like that?
You can hear footsteps just outside the door and you can feel your lust increase at the thought of being caught, much to your surprise. Jungwoo slams a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your rather loud sounds. But it only serves to make you moan even louder when his perfect fingers are in such close proximity to your mouth. He swirls the fingers on your clit as fast as he possibly can and leans down to breathe in your ear again,“Give it to me honey, cum for me. Wanna make you feel so good, just let go on me baby”. The pressure in your body is akin to a pipe bursting. The intensity of the first orgasm is almost doubled by the second. You feel like you cum for hours, Jungwoo rubbing your clit and fucking his seed up into you all the way through it. He’s so perfect. He treats you so well. Makes you feel amazing.
This time when you come to, it’s to the sensation of a wet washcloth rubbing down your lower body. Jungwoo is no longer inside you and is doing his best to clean up the mess he’s made of his lover. His top half is still bare but he does have his sweatpants back on. When he sees that your eyes seem to have consciousness behind them, he has that award winning bashful grin on his face. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, nose, and lips before leaning down to flop on the bed next to you. He buries his face in the side of your next and breathes deeply in before slowly exhaling. You can feel the red flush on his face against your cooling skin. It makes you giggle sweetly, the way he gets so shy after things like this. It partly why you find yourself so endeared by him though. You give him a small kiss on his scalp. “Are you all finished big boy or are you gonna surprise attack me again?” You cheekily poke his back side while he laughs.
“I’m sorry! I just, didn’t want to be done with you yet”.
“It felt good though”.
“You’re not fibbing?”.
“No puppy it was really good!”.
“Please don’t call me ‘puppy’ right after I sexxed your brains out”. He earns himself a smack on the ass for that one. “Hey! It’s true isn’t it?”
“Yes but don’t used the word ‘sexxed’ please. What are you twelve?”. Your playful banter post-orgasm is one of your favorite moments with Jungwoo. Although, any minute you get to spend with him is probably your favorite.
“I was scary wasn’t I? You seemed to like it a lot.” His boba eyes start to peek at you as he lifts his head a bit from the crook of your neck. The shyness is starting to wear off making way for his usual silliness.
“You were SO scary baby, very scary”. Your sarcasm makes him pout a bit. Then he sits up, furrows his brows, and starts attacking your stomach with tickles. Your innocent laughter rings out like a chiming bell and it makes Jungwoo fall for you even more than he already has somehow. “Okay okay! You were sexy it was hot. It was very manly.”
Satisfied with your answer, he ends his tickle assault and gives you a cartoonish smolder. “Tsch- I knew it. I’m just too hot and sexy for you to resist”.
You sit up as well and step out of the bed as best you can with wobbly legs. “Come on ‘Hot and Sexy’ lets rinse off before we have to go face the judgement of ‘Dumb and Dumber’ downstairs”.
“Wait!”
You turn towards him in confusion. He grabs both your cheeks and plants a very sweet kiss on your lips one last time. “Okay. Now I’m satisfied”. His fluffy hair is all in his eyes, which are beaming with love-light. His still rosey cheeks are the perfect picture of beauty.
GENRE/CW: smut, fake dating, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, drunk sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of jaemin and other dreamies, mentions of karina and yunjin, lmk if i missed anything!
WORD COUNT: 16.2k words
SYNOPSIS: your ex getting a girlfriend after just two weeks of breakup was enough to infuriate you to the point where you had to step up and make him regret breaking your heart. solution? fake date his best friend and make him jealous!
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i couldn’t get lee jeno out of my head and here we are now :3 i hope you guys enjoy it! i wanna thank my loves @ddeonuism and @celeste-hoon for helping me with the ideas and dialogues <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33
Drink and forget.
That was your plan for the night, and what’s a better way to achieve it than attending a party with your friends?
“Woah! Girl, slow down,” Yunjin scolded you, taking the shot glass out of your hand, “it’s been half an hour, Y/n. If you take another shot then you’re going back to the dorm.”
You groaned, “you know why I’m doing this Yun. I should’ve listened to you and Rina.”
Hyuck whined, “what’s the point anymore? You didn’t listen to them and still fell for him instead of me which resulted in him breaking your heart.”
That earned him a smack on his head by Ningning, who now turned to you with a smile to lighten up your mood, “it’s been two weeks already, babe! Let’s forget about him and dance—” she said, her last word trailed off as she stared at the party entrance, the same time the music got loud.
“I can’t believe he left so easily,” you whispered to yourself, gulping down your sentiments before paying attention to where your friends were staring, turning around to look at the entrance gate.
There he was, the reason why you had been cooped up in your room, crying your heart out. The reason why you were drinking to numb your feelings, yet it all went downhill the second your eyes fell on him.
Na Jaemin.
His walk was confident, his sculpted face looked more charming than ever as he sported his ever so gradient smile looking indifferent to what had happened between you both.
Topping it all, he had a girl clinging on to his arm, giggling as she pulled his arm to be pressed between her tits. She was clad in a mini dress which barely hid her ass and your friends glanced back at you with a nervous expression on their faces.
Your face, however, remained stoic as you exhibited no sign of emotions despite feeling the anger burning up inside you, your fist clenching as you saw them walk towards your group.
You couldn’t believe how Jaemin was the same guy who used to give you shy smiles whenever your groups used to sit together as he was a close friend of Mark and Hyuck.
Your friends had warned you, they did, but you were so blinded by his innocent face and pure smile which held secret promises of sincerity and a hope of something more. You took your time to notice that he cared for you, even waiting outside your classes with a bouquet at times.
He had you swooning, ignoring the warnings and signs you should have seen coming. His sweet talk lured you right into his trap, and you found yourself saying yes to him in a heartbeat, marking the onset of your honeymoon phase. It was dreamy, to the point even your friends were convinced he had changed his ways and finally decided to settle down.
Yet, deep inside you could feel your gut telling you that it won’t last, and he proved it just right when he forgot your one month anniversary, when he forgot the flavour of your favourite ice cream, when he didn’t bother calling you or taking you out on dates.
When he admitted that he was bored and wanted out.
It lasted for two months before he decided to break up, leaving you standing by yourself in your dorm, tears cascading down your face before your roommates heard a broken cry leave your mouth. Yunjin and Karina never left your side after that.
Others tried to talk some sense into Jaemin but it was as useful as a chocolate teapot.
The hope of him regretting his decision went downhill when you saw him with this new girl, barely two weeks after your break up, the corner of his lips turned up into his usual smirk as he stood in front of you all, getting no smile or greetings yet he didn’t mind.
It was a rare sight to see his best friend frowning, nonetheless a frown of disappointment settled on Jeno’s lips.
Despite the loud music and the array of sweaty bodies dancing all over the room, you could feel the deafening silence in the circle of your group until a small whine came out of Jaemin’s new girl toy, who pouted and whispered something in his ear, giving you the opportunity to look at Yunjin, who looked equally disgusted at the exchange.
The girl must have asked him to introduce her because he nodded with his usual smile, turning around to face everyone as he spoke up, “hey guys! Meet my new girlfriend.” He motioned at her to speak up.
Her fake giggle made you want to throw up, and you noticed how you weren’t the only one who felt this way as Hyuck excused himself from the conversation, rolling his eyes, which made you smile.
That didn’t stop her, “hi guys!” She exclaimed, dragging out the hi, “I’m Linda.”
A series of snorts and coughed up laughs emerged as she proceeded to introduce herself, which included you who tried your best not to laugh at her oblivious state, completely disregarding the fact that she was not welcomed here.
No matter how heartbroken you were, feeling like a fool as Jaemin’s eyes took your outfit in wasn’t something you’d allow to happen. You didn’t bother excusing yourself as you left the circle, Yunjin following you in a beat as you just missed the whine Linda let out at your disrespectful actions.
“The fucking audacity?” Yunjin was furious, your inner turmoil matching her expression, “I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to bring that bimbo here.”
You wasted no time in gulping down your fourth shot, no one bothered to stop you this time, knowing well you needed it as you tried to keep your tears at bay, it was too late to say you regretted saying yes to the player.
Your body felt hot as your mind clouded into a hazier state, the confidence overpowered your painful state, your legs taking you to your friends who knew you were drunk beyond your capacity as you danced with them, rolling your body and letting yourself free.
Yet the one thing that never left your mind was revenge.
You wanted revenge.
The booming voice of your alarm clock was successful in contributing to your raging headache as you opened your eyes with a deep groan, feeling disoriented and your hangover building up.
“Fuck—” you muttered, shutting up your alarm.
You were surprised to notice the medicines and a bottle of water that was kept on your nightstand, and you didn’t waste a second before gulping it down to help your headache as well as your parched throat.
Being grateful that it was a Sunday, you slumped back down, trying to recall the night but the only memory that stayed in your head was the one of Linda squishing Jaemin’s arm on her boobs. Your jaw clenched at how easily he moved on.
Just then, Karina entered the room with a small smile. She was the only one who looked normal as she wasn’t at the party yesterday.
“Oh! I was just coming to wake you up. We’re all going out for brunch since no one is in their right mind to cook,” she informed you with an amused look, noticing how you were still wearing your dress from last night.
A shower was exactly what you needed at the given point as you tried your best to get ready in fifteen minutes, your mind filled with ideas to take revenge, no matter how childish it sounded. But how? Well, searching the net didn’t help much. You weren’t going to post a bad picture of him in the name of revenge.
It also wouldn’t work because it was impossible for him to have a bad picture.
You sighed, linking your arms with Yunjin and Karina as you got out of the car which the latter drove as you walked inside your usual diner to see everyone sitting together after aligning the tables.
Hyuck pulled you to sit with him, he barely had his eyes open as Mark went on telling everyone how Hyuck got pissed drunk last night and made out with his knee while crying.
The scene was easy to imagine which made you all burst into laughter at the poor boy who could only whine, “your knee tastes like mustard!”
The laughter died down when you felt a repeat of yesterday happening yet again. It was a friends only brunch, but apparently, Jaemin’s Linda didn’t get the memo.
You could see his best friend trailing behind him yet again and you wondered how Jeno handled Jaemin despite his actions which now made everyone uncomfortable to some extent.
“Should I punch that asshole?” Hyuck asked, whispering in your ear and you sighed for the tenth time today, shaking your head as you completely ignored the two people and focused on eating and chatting with the ones who made you feel better, however, you could feel Jaemin’s eyes staring at you.
You just wanted to go back, already tired of the couple who couldn’t keep their public display of affection at bay. Now you were sure it wasn’t just the hangover that made you wanna puke.
“I think I just lost my appetite,” you commented, causing the guy in front of you to snigger.
You looked up for the first time to see Jeno sitting opposite to you, sending you a smile once he saw you looking his way, which you returned easily.
He usually kept to himself and he wasn’t the talkative one in the group. You had only talked to him while greeting him whenever your groups met, and once when Jaemin got drunk beyond control at a party and so you had to call Jeno to pick him up. Your interactions were limited to him because of one person.
Your smile dropped the second you heard that annoying giggle again, Jeno only looked your way with a small frown after as you averted your gaze back to your lap, gulping down your anger.
The sound of a message notification from your phone grabbed your attention, and you opened it to find your group chat being active.
Uni haters 🤬👊🏼 (minus Jaemin)
mOrk: uhh yo guys this is awkward 😬
hyuckie: can’t believe i lost my title of annoying king to jaemin’s gf??? 🤬
ningx2: she’s not even a guy
yunjinnie: but she’s annoying
ningx2: can’t argue w that 🤪
rinaa: let’s just eat and leave as soon as we can, the air is suffocating me 🤕
you: too late i can’t eat anymore 🤡
injun: im leaving i can’t w this bullshit, she didn’t even wear her wig properly
mOrk: holy shit? she’s got a wig on?!?! 😨
You laughed as you noticed Renjun calling the waiter for the bill, which you all split as soon as you can and made your way out of the suffocating place, leaving the two in there as Jeno too decided to leave early.
The drive back home was barely five minutes long, which soothed your nerves as you sang along to old songs Yunjin played on the speakers.
They could notice how you looked exhausted, but it was more than that, they knew you had something in your mind and it was related to none other than your ex.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Yunjin asked once you entered your shared dorm room.
“What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine!” You tried laughing but it came out fake, causing Karina to raise her brows.
“Spill. Right now,” she ordered, making you sit in between them as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, which wasn’t directed to them.
“Fine. I want revenge,” you confessed, “he looks so happy and unbothered as if nothing happened? How can he say hi to me as if it’s the most casual thing in this world after he broke up with me saying he got bored? Ugh I hate his guts!” You ranted.
“So, do you have any plans for that?” Yunjin asked.
“Not really,” you muttered, “safari really recommended me to flirt with other guys in front of him,” you laughed, picking at the pillow cover of your couch.
Yunjin refrained herself from snorting, “would he be jealous of a random guy though?”
Karina laughed along, “yeah it’s not like you can date his best friend to make him jealous?”
Your eyes widened, your head turning slowly as your lips curled into a devilish grin, immediately causing your friends to exchange nervous glances and speak up.
“Don’t fucking tell me you’re considering this,” Karina blinked, incredulous.
“Listen—” you started, only to be cut off midway.
“No way,” a breathy laugh left Yunjin as she tried to contain her words and make you understand without any cussing.
“It’s not a bad idea, okay?” You tried to convince her.
“So what? Are you gonna seduce Jeno?” She asked.
You laughed which sounded more like a pfft, “of course not, silly! We’ll fake date each other!” You said, face shining as if you had presented the greatest idea known to mankind.
“Be so for real right now,” Karina deadpanned.
“Lord, Y/n think straight. This is real life, you’re not in a cheesy rom-com movie or a book,” Yunjin provided her input.
“I know! But I just have to make him jealous for what? A month before he gets bored of that Linda girlie, and maybe Jeno would agree to it too!” You nodded at the possibilities.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Yunjin rubbed her eyes, “me either,” Karina said as they both looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.
Your smile only got wider, “this is the best way to make it work!” You announced before looking at Karina sheepishly, “please send me Jeno’s number Rina,” you said in a sweet voice, knowing she was the social butterfly of the university before you waved a goodbye at them, walking into your room, formulating a plan alongside.
“This is gonna be a disaster, right?” Karina asked Yunjin, sighing.
“Oh definitely, it’ll be a show.”
You walked in your room, contemplating if it would be alright to discuss this on text or if you should meet up with him, the latter option was more plausible yet scary because what if Jeno laughed at you? What if he didn’t agree to work with you for the sake of his friendship.
With such a stupefied idea, the possibilities were endless. Besides, you weren’t gonna ask for a lot, just a little hand holding, maybe hugging but nothing beyond that. You have to play pretend and smile a lot around each other. That would sell your drama and that would make Jaemin jealous and realize that he lost a gem.
You waited and thought about it for a few days before finally giving in.
You took a deep breath, giving yourself a last nod of encouragement before you picked up your phone, saving the number Karina had forwarded you and clicking on his profile before sending a text.
To: Jeno🐾
You: heyy jeno! 🥰 it’s Y/n, can we meet up?
You wondered if that emoji was too much, but you did not get enough time to ponder upon it as Jeno texted you back in a minute.
Jeno🐾: Hey, Y/n :) sure, is everything okay?
You: yess! i just need to talk to you about something :3
Jeno🐾: How about Starbucks at 5?
You: perfect, i’ll be there ^^
Jeno🐾: See you <3
Your mouth widened at the heart at the end of the text, before you brushed it off, thinking that he sent it by mistake. You kept your phone on the nightstand, standing in front of your closet to select an outfit for your meeting.
The plan was made, you just had to discuss it with Jeno but you had never talked to him before, maybe that is why your heartbeat rose up. He was a good looking guy, there’s no denying that and you’ve heard that he was one of the smart ones too.
You bit your lip as you straightened out your top, rethinking your life decisions. There was no backing out now. You looked in the mirror again, satisfied with your outfit and makeup. You knew you looked stunning as you grabbed your phone and bag before driving Karina’s car to your desired destination.
The place was almost empty except for a few people who sat and worked on their laptops. It was easy to spot Jeno, his dark hair shone under the dim lights of the cafe, he pushed his specs up for it to rest on his perfectly pointy nose, his lips parted ever so slightly as he focused on reading a book which you had never heard the name of.
His aura looked calming, which boosted your confidence as you made your way towards the table he was sitting at. It was near the window, at the end of the cafe, which gave you enough privacy. Somehow the seating choice felt very Jeno to you.
Clearing your throat, you mustered up your courage, smiling slightly. “Hey, Jeno!” You spoke, looking him in the eye.
That was enough to capture his attention, he looked up at you with a smile that reached his eyes.
He looked adorable.
“Y/n! Hey, come sit please,” he said, gesturing at the seat on the opposite side of him.
His eyes were soft as they looked at you sitting down, noticing a strand of hair which you tucked behind your ear, finally looking up at him, trying to find the right words to start the conversation.
“Isn’t it weird how we’ve never talked before?” You chuckled, causing him to nod with a small laugh.
“That’s true. How can I help you today?” He asked, keeping the book aside, carefully placing a bookmark before doing so.
You kept your confident smile on, “I needed your help with this hypothesis I have,” you nodded as you explained it to him, and he was sure that the meet up was for academic purposes now, “so I need to take a little survey. Can you answer some questions for me?” You asked.
He nodded as you took out a notepad and pen from the bag you were carrying.
“Sure, I’d be glad to help,” he smiled, eyes turning into soft crescents, which you stopped to stare for a second too long before realizing that he was waiting for your questions.
You snapped out of your daze as you started scribbling on your notepad, “your full name?”
“Don’t you know it?” He asked, confused.
“Shh just answer, it’s the official protocol.” You huffed.
“Lee Jeno.”
“Gender?”
“Seriously—”
“Just say it!”
“Okay, fine. Male.”
“What’s your age?”
“I’m 23.”
“Introvert, extrovert or ambivert?”
“Introverted.”
“Marital status?”
“What?”
“Single? Okay. So on a scale of one to ten, how willing are you to help me get back at your best friend by being my fake boyfriend?” You asked, your smile never faltering.
Jeno blinked once, then twice. “You lost me on that one,” he spoke up.
His eyes displayed a mixture of shock and amusement, and maybe it was your figment of imagination that you saw him snigger but you weren’t the one to give up.
Your lips jutted out in a pout, eyes shiny as you looked up at him, “c’mon! You won't let a girl beg for a little help, right? Especially when she was hurt so very deeply by the said ex, right?”
Jeno looked at you, your pout only deepening in the hopes of him accepting your idea. He only leaned on his arm, coming closer with an enthralled smile.
“So what you’re suggesting here is that I fake date you to get back at my best friend for hurting you?” He confirmed and you nodded enthusiastically, “how’s it going to work?”
“Easy! Jaemin isn’t the one who gets affected by a lot of things but if I date his best friend, that’s you, then he would get jealous and would regret breaking up with me,” you explained, “then I won’t take him back,” you announced, triumphant.
Jeno nodded, as if contemplating whether the offer was worth it, “what do I get out of it?” He asks.
“A fake and pretty girlfriend of course,” you smiled, “and a chance to teach your best friend some manners,” you shrugged as if it was a win-win situation.
Jeno’s expression didn’t give out what he was thinking and you were patiently looking at him for some sort of answer, hopefully a positive one.
“Do I have time to think?” He asks.
“I would give you some but then I’m an anxious being,” you stated which elicited a laugh out of him as he never expected that coming out of you.
But he had seen it all, the way Jaemin behaved with you. He forgot all important dates, gave priority to his parties and the friend group which was potentially harmful for him, not to mention that his reason for breaking up was worse than the worst excuse, saying he got bored, only to find a girl two weeks later. Jeno truly hated Linda as she accidentally broke his favourite vase while he made out with Jaemin in their shared apartment.
“Fine. How are we going to go about this?” Jeno sighed, giving in finally as he saw your face practically lighting up with excitement.
“Wait! Does this mean you’re in?” You asked just to be sure.
“I don’t think I have any other option,” he teases but you don’t mind, you were simply enjoying the feel of victory already, “so, now what?” He asks, finally realizing what he had gotten himself into.
Fake dating.
“Now, we’re going to set some ground rules, which of course, we’ll write down and sign as a contract,” you say, getting a page out of your notepad.
“Like that one movie by Jenny Han?” He raised his brows.
You stopped to think for a second, “yeah but it’s not like we’ll fall in love or something,” you shrugged with a laugh and he nodded.
Y/n and Jeno’s rules of fake dating! <3
Don’t fall in love
Hand holding is okay
Drive to the uni together
Nicknames are a must!
Kissing is not allowed!!
Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina
Break up once the goal is reached.
Goal: make Jaemin regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)
Signatures
You passed the sheet to Jeno, “anything you’d like to change?” You asked as he read it all, and you noticed his brows slightly scrunching as he did so, exactly how they were scrunched when he was reading his book earlier.
“I’m assuming you told your friends already,” he pointed out rule number six, to which you nodded sheepishly.
“No kissing?” He asked, “you know no one’s gonna buy it if we don’t kiss, right? But of course, if you’re not comfortable then it’s fine.”
You bit your lower lip, wondering if you should consider it since he was right. Kissing is the easiest way to show affection, “I think you’re right, we’ll do it only when it’s required,” you said, and he nodded.
You wondered how he was so calm with all of this, and you liked that he was asking questions about it all.
“What’s with the nicknames?” He read rule number four.
“Jaemin is big on nicknames, I bet he calls you some too. He used to call me princess,” you sighed, remembering how it used to be. It hurt but the current hatred overtook that feeling.
“Alright, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Your eyes widened at his deep tone, but he only smiled, “just practising,” he said and you nodded, gulping down.
“Okay, so is the list done?” You inquired.
“Yeah, I just have to add one thing,” he said, scribbling down another rule while you asked him random questions.
“Have you ever dated before?”
He shook his head, “you’re my first,” he winked, and you wondered how he was so good at flirting.
“So—” you were going to ask another question but it seems like he knew what it was.
“I know I’m silent but it doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced,” he stated, and you were amused as it was the first time he saw him being this way, “besides, this deal of ours would benefit me by driving the girls away.”
“Right,” you snickered, looking at what he had written, “why PDA?” you asked.
“Because that’s the key to irritate Jaemin, especially with Linda around who sees no other seat but Jaem’s lap,” he explained as your face scrunched at the image.
“You really are smart,” you muttered, signing the contract before handing it to him, who was quick to sign it too before you extended your hand.
His big hand encased yours in a handshake and you couldn’t help, but notice how his fingers were slender, veins visible on his hands as his grip was firm on your hand.
You had sealed the deal.
Y/n and Jeno’s rules of fake dating! <3
Don’t fall in love
Hand holding is okay
Drive to the uni together
Nicknames are a must!
Kissing is not allowed!!
Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina
Break up once the goal is reached.
PDA whenever the target is around!
Goal: make Jaemin regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)
Y/n Jeno
Signatures
“Listen, I know plans don’t work at times, there’s no reason to be sad over it—wait why are you smiling? There’s no way—” Yunjin asked as soon as you entered your dorm after your meeting with Jeno.
“He agreed,” you squealed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Jeno? The scholar guy who’s silent for the majority of the time, the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before, he agreed to fake date you?” Karina’s mouth was hung open and you only nodded excitedly.
They both looked at each other before nodding, “now, you need a day out. We’re talking waxing, getting your hair done, and preferably your nails too since you’ve had that colour for too long and new clothes—” they made a list as they successfully dragged you out for all of it the next day, saying it’s a little something they’d want to contribute to your fake dating strategy.
You didn’t mind a bit of it, being pampered was something you loved and it was long due as you had devoted all your time to crying after your breakup.
It was when Monday rolled by when it finally settled in. You were going to pretend to date Lee Jeno, in front of everyone. Your friends gave you last minute pep talks and you were more than glad that they had decided to help you dress up too. Just then your phone rang with a notification.
Jeno🐾: Morning, sunshine <3 Ready to sell our show?
You: good morning!! i'm more than ready! are you tho? 👀
Jeno🐾: I’m already waiting for you outside, love ;)
You almost choked on the water you were drinking as you remembered the rules. You had to go to the university with him, “bye guys! He’s here,” you said to your roommates, getting up and grabbing your bag as you made your way out in a hurry.
Jeno was standing by his car as he lived in the apartments and not the dorms, which was ten minutes away from your university campus. As for your dorms, they were a solid five minutes walk from your room.
He looked up from your phone as he heard you walking closer to him, “hey,” he smiled.
“So punctual, you’re right on time,” you said, “seems like you’re excited.”
He chuckled, opening the passenger seat door for you, “I can’t say I’m not excited to see other’s reactions,” he admitted as you sat down inside, thanking him softly.
Jaemin had never once opened the door for you.
He got in the car, focusing on the road, “what’s the goal for today, princess?” He asked in his deep tone.
You blamed your overly sensitive skin for the tingling you felt due to his voice, also sitting to notice how his face looked like a sculpture.
“Soft launching our relationship,” you answered, clicking his picture.
“In the cafeteria, during lunch then?”
“Exactly! You just have to sit next to me and smile, that’ll be enough for Hyuck to suspect something,” you explained the basic plan just in time as you reached the university parking lot.
“Why? Do I never smile?” He asked, getting his seatbelt off.
“You do, but only to our group. Others get a neutral expression only,” you pointed out as if you had analysed him fully.
“Wait,” he stopped you from opening the car door, getting out and opening it for you with a tiny smile.
Well that worked since people were nosy enough to notice a girl coming out of Jeno’s car, which is a scene that never occurs.
He politely offered you his hand as he helped you stand up. His hand was warm juxtaposing your cold ones, as he pulled you towards him, your shoulder pressed against his chest, which you could feel was chiselled, he definitely had pecks.
“Smile, princess,” he whispered, and you overcame your state of hyper focus on him before putting on your best smile.
“What are we doing?” You asked, your smile never faltering.
Jeno was somehow really good at looking at you with fondness in his eyes, he’d be a nice theatre guy if he takes up acting.
“Dropping my girlfriend to her class, of course,” he said smoothly, and you started walking, hand in hand.
“You’re pretty good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?” You teased, noticing others staring at your hands.
“Why? Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?” He asked back and you were truly amazed to see him retorting to your questions, given that you had barely seen him talk before.
He felt your hand slipping and quickly intertwined your fingers. The gesture made sure to send a shiver down your spine.
Jaemin never held your hand while walking.
“We’re just getting started, we’ll see how it goes,” you suggested, causing him to nod and continue the conversation you had left off.
“So what you were saying back in the car is that people perceive me as someone who’s mean?” He tilted his head in question.
“Of course not! They perceive you as someone who’s unapproachable.” You say seriously, you both stopped walking as you had reached the class.
He blinked at you once. You blinked back.
And you both burst out into soft laughter before he ruffled your hair slightly, bending down to your level, “study well, princess.” He winked, walking away to attend his own lecture.
You tried your best to focus on the lecture as you jotted down the notes alongside, however the feeling of thrill kept your leg bouncing the entire time, your mind working out possible scenarios with everyone’s reactions.
Soon, the classes were over and it was the time for your lunch break, which also meant that it was the time for you and Jeno to act in front of everyone else.
“We’ll cheer for you,” Karina said and you could only laugh at her expression. She still couldn’t believe that you were going through with this.
From the entrance of the big cafeteria, you could easily spot the table where everyone had already assembled.
“Ready?” A deep voice whispered in your ear, successfully causing you to jump back.
But Jeno was quick to grab your waist and pull you closer before you could trip, his eyes equally widened as yours, “god! You scared me,” you said, breathing in deeply to calm your heart.
You could feel his scent infiltrating your senses, it was a perfect blend of woody and citrus, which was also paired with slight musk and mandarin. He smelled really good.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, letting go so you could stand straight.
His eyes were full of worry, mouth slightly agape and you smiled to let him know you were okay. “Now, smile and talk,” you said as you both walked into the cafeteria.
“Do I really never smile?” He asked you, “because people are staring.”
“I told you already! You smile only with our friends and we have never really talked before, at least in front of others,” you laughed.
The whole group went silent as the two of you approached. Haechan was the first one to raise his eyebrows as you sat down with him, but Jeno didn’t sit next to Jaemin. Instead, he sat down next to you.
Linda, as usual, was sitting on his lap, but that didn’t stop Jaemin from staring at you and Jeno.
“Something is fishy,” Hyuck pointed out.
“What is?” You asked, feigning innocence.
Jeno was silent when he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. You could feel your stomach tingling, and he simply smiled your way.
“Firstly, I saw you getting out of Jeno’s car in the morning,” Hyuck noted, “secondly, he was holding your hand and he walked you to the class. Thirdly, he’s been smiling nonstop.”
“Dude, no way!” Mark simply laughed, thinking it’s another one of Hyuck’s joke.
Ningning looked lost while Renjun seemed to be focusing on your expression, “I don’t think it’s one of his jokes this time,” he said.
“It’s really not!” Hyuck whined, glad that Renjun was agreeing.
“Does this mean—” Mark’s eyes widened.
“—that they’re dating,” Yunjin said, acting her best as she widened her eyes, almost standing up at the confession.
A series of gasps left their mouths, “what?” They collectively exclaimed.
You tried your best to hold in your laugh as Jeno turned to look at you, and from the side of your eyes, you could notice Jaemin staring at you deeply with his jaw clenched.
“They are! Look! He’s got his arm around her waist,” Hyuck exclaimed in an overdramatic way.
“Guys—” you tried to say but Jeno stopped you.
“It’s fine, princess. They know now,” he smiled, pulling you even closer in a side hug.
That caused Ningning, Mark and Haechan to scream while Linda squealed, jumping on Jaem’s lap.
Jeno caressed the corner of your lip adoringly, “no need to hide it from our friends, baby,” he said before looking up, “Hyuck is right, we are dating.”
“What the fuck?”
“Since when?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you fuck?”
All eyes turned to Ningning in disbelief as she asked the question, “what? I’m curious,” she shrugged, everyone looking at Jaemin subtly to observe his reaction.
You leaned into Jeno’s chest, making yourself comfortable as you saw everyone chatting excitedly, your eyes settling on your ex for just a moment to see his furrowed brows and hardened eyes, a vein popping out from his neck.
Day one, successful.
“So you’re dating now, huh?” Jaemin’s voice asked Jeno as he entered their shared apartment.
Jaemin was sitting on the couch, face devoid of expressions as he asked the question.
Jeno chuckled softly, gripping his bag tighter as he walked into the room, standing in front of Jaemin, “yeah. Who would’ve seen that coming?”
That caused the other boy to chuckle along, but it sounded strained, almost ending with a scoff, “I certainly didn’t see it coming.”
“You don’t sound happy for me,” Jeno said, his tone teasing.
Jaemin was trying hard to keep his smile up, “What makes you think so?”
“Your smile. It’s strained,” Jeno pointed out, grabbing the bottle of beer in front of Jaemin and taking a sip out of it.
Jaemin clicked his tongue, looking Jeno dead in the eye, “how can you date her? What happened to the bro code?”
Jeno remained calm, “why? Weren’t you the one who was done with her?”
“She’s my fucking ex, Jeno,” he snapped.
“That’s right, she’s your ex. She’s not yours anymore, she’s my girl.” Jeno smiled, keeping the beer back on the table before walking away.
“Oh! And, try to be happy for us now, I don’t want my princess to be sad because of us, yeah?” Jeno gave him his infamous eye smile before returning to his room.
The plan was working.
You didn’t have morning classes the next day, which is why you had to walk to the main campus instead of getting a ride with your fake boyfriend. Yet you left your dorm an hour before your lecture to meet up with Jeno as he had something to tell you.
The one thing you liked about your University was its beauty, the gardens and fresh flowers only heightened up your spirits as you tried to find Jeno in the garden of the STEM faculty, which was mostly empty.
You spotted Jeno waiting for you by a tree. He was reading the same book he had in the cafe the other day, you had also noticed how frequently he used to go to libraries during your relationship with Jaemin. He loved to read.
“Hey,” you said, standing in front of him with a smile.
“Hey there, princess,” he replied, making you tilt your head.
“Why are you calling me that? We’re alone right now,” you laughed.
“For practice, of course,” he said in a beat before he handed you a cup of coffee, the exact one which you get from your favourite cafe nearby.
“How’d you know?” You blink, surprised at his sweet gesture, also thanking him for it.
He shrugged, “I’m known to be attentive,” he said.
Jaemin never knew your favourite drink.
“Jaemin talked to me yesterday,” he told you as you took a sip of your coffee.
“Yeah?” You asked, stepping closer to hear what he had to say.
“Yeah, he truly hates this setting. He asked me how I could date you.”
“Oh my god, he didn’t even hesitate? What did you say back then?” You asked.
“Hold on—” he said, grabbing your waist and turning you around, his hand resting on the back of your head as he pushed you against the tree.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyes widening as he leaned closer, making your heart beat out of your chest as you looked into his honey brown eyes which were surrounded by little specks of gold.
“Jaemin,” he breathed out, “he’s here and he’s looking our way.”
To Jaemin, it might look as if Jeno and you are kissing but his lips are still inches away from yours, his scent pleasing your olfactory receptors as your ex only scoffed and walked away.
“Oh,” you said in understanding.
Jeno only chuckled, “so, he went on saying how you are his ex and I shouldn’t be dating you,” he continued to tell you the story.
Only Lee Jeno can talk so calmly in such a compromising position. You wondered if Jaemin had left already.
“What did you reply?” You asked, voice coming out in a whisper as your body became aware of his hand which rested on your waist.
“That you’re not his anymore,” he claimed, “that you’re mine now.” He said, breathily.
You gulped down your nervousness. You knew it was a part of the act yet you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingling ever so slightly as you nodded.
“Is he gone?” You asked, referring to Jaemin.
Jeno blinked twice, finally looking up to see no sign of your ex anymore as he stepped back and you breathed in deeply.
“The plan is working perfectly then,” you let out softly.
He nodded, eyes crinkling.
“I almost forgot,” you gasped, “Yunjin gave me this idea that we should go on a date!”
“A date?” He asked, knowing that it’ll just be the two of you there.
“Yes. It’s honestly just to make it believable. We can go out, click pictures and have a good time by eating good food,” you said, looking in his eyes for confirmation.
“Sure, let’s do that,” he agreed, making you smile as you said you’d text him the details before rushing to your lecture.
Jeno simply leaned back, staring at your rushing figure with tender eyes.
Another week had gone by swiftly and the only thing that bothered you were the girls who came up to you, asking if you were truly in a relationship with Jeno, to which you said yes with the sweetest smile you could muster, crushing all their hopes of having a future with your fake boyfriend.
Hyuck was hellbent on knowing more about this newfound relationship of yours, Ningning simply wanted to know if the calm and silent guy was good in bed, Yunjin and Karina were amazing at acting as if they didn’t know it was fake. Mark approached Jeno as he tried to get a few tips out of him since Mark wanted to man up and confess to his crush.
As for Jaemin, you haven't seen him for the past two days. He didn’t sit with your group during lunch, nor was in any of your shared lectures. Even his girlfriend came to ask you guys if you had seen him. Only Jeno knew that Jaemin had spent the past two days drinking at their apartment.
That was the least of your concerns as Ningning kept asking you random questions.
“Favourite hair colour on guys?” She asked.
“Black looks heavenly,” you admitted.
“And haircut?” She asked Karina.
“Anything as long as it’s not a bowl cut,” she winced, distaste for that haircut clear on her face.
“But guys, undercut looks so fucking hot, you have to admit that,” you pointed out and everyone seemed to agree with you.
The conversation was casual but Jeno decided to take it up a notch and surprise you with something you had decided upon, yet never executed.
“Let’s go on a date today, baby,” Jeno suggested, again making everyone stop and stare at you both.
“Dude, how are you so cool?” Mark whined, wanting to do the same with his crush.
“I thought you were shy, but I guess the silent ones are the freakiest,” Ningning commented.
“He’s literally talking about a date, Ning,” you sighed.
“I can't believe he took you away from me,” Hyuck shook his head as you gave him a look.
“You guys were never together in the first place,” Karina reminded Hyuck, and he sobbed dramatically.
Jeno looked at you expectantly, his eyes seemed bigger than usual and you could swear they were shining just the perfect amount. It somehow made you look away, biting your lower lip in the process before you nodded.
“I’d love to,” you admitted.
“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at five,” he said, grabbing his bag and swinging it on his right shoulder.
He noticed how you looked happy this particular day, your face had a certain kind of glow to it and your smile was brighter. It seemed as if you were doing better now, and your friends really loved to see you this way.
He bent down, touching your cheek tenderly, pressing his lips on your forehead ever so gently, making your eyes flutter close at the soothing sensation.
“See you then, princess,” he whispered, looking at you one last time before going to attend his next lecture.
“Did he just?” Hyuck covered his mouth.
You were just as shocked as the others, not expecting any kind of PDA at all, especially when Jaemin wasn’t around. That was the first time he had done it. You bit your lip yet again, looking down at your lap, trying to contain your smile.
Yunjin and Karina looked at you before looking at each other with a knowing look.
Then they smiled, wishing for the best.
“What do I even wear?” You huff in distress, looking at your roommates who looked like statues seeing your bed full of random clothes tossed around.
“You can simply ask him where you guys are gonna go, it’s not like you’re actually dating and it’s a surprise,” Karina pointed out.
You stopped, saying, “you’re right actually,” but then you whined, “I don’t wanna ask him such simple things, help me out guys.”
Yunjin sighed, mustering her stylist expression as she gave your wardrobe and your bed a once over, quickly getting all articles of clothing she wanted before handing them over to you, solving your problem in two minutes maximum.
“Don’t you think this dress is a little fancy? I mean, we’re probably going to a local cafe,” You asked, cocking your brow.
“Just trust me and wear this babygirl,” Yunjin said, using her usual nicknames.
You had just finished applying your lip oil, concluding your makeup as you got a notification from Jeno saying he was outside your dorm.
You smiled unknowingly at the text, a feeling of excitement, or rather, giddiness creeping up your stomach as you bid your roommates goodbye, grabbing your purse and not forgetting to thank them for tolerating your tantrums.
Walking out of the dorm and towards the exit, you stopped as you saw Jeno leaning against his car, which wasn’t an unusual sight for you, however, you had never expected to see him in a black jacket, thinking that he’d be clad in his usual hoodies.
His hair was neatly trimmed as he sported an undercut, which he didn’t have in the morning, meaning he got it cut right after your classes.
Right after you revealed your liking for the particular haircut.
“Jeno,” you whispered, walking closer to him, noticing how he wasn’t wearing his usual specs either, probably opting for the lenses instead.
He was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixated on the flower he held in his hand, completely immersed in his thoughts before he looked up to see you standing right in front of him.
“Y/n,” he murmured, his heart pounding slightly as he noticed the light breeze gently swaying the hem of your dress, “you look beautiful,” he smiled, dissipating your jittering nerves and sending a wave of warmth through your chest.
“You look so—” you tried to find the right word, eyes never leaving his face as you had never seen him look so bold before, “captivating.”
He laughed at your statement, “here,” he said, extending his arm and passing you the flower he had gotten for you, the tips of your fingers brushed against his ever so slightly, “glad I could captivate you, sweetheart,” he whispered, winking at you.
You were left stunned, wondering where did he get his sudden boost of confidence from as you sat inside his car, watching him start the car, gripping the steering wheel normally, yet it made the veins of his hands pop out.
You cleared your throat, “so, where are you taking me today?” You asked him.
“Well, that’s something you’ll have to wait and see,” he teased, building up your anticipation.
“Okay, is it far though?” You asked, falling into a conversation with him so easily, and he told you it would be an hour long drive, making you wonder where you were off to.
There was something so endearing about others sharing their favourite things and talking about them, you loved to hear all of it and you felt even better seeing Jeno comfortable around you as he went on telling you about the books he’d been reading and recommending the ones you’d like.
One hour felt like a few minutes with him, time passing by effortlessly. Your lips parted in surprise once you saw where you were.
It was the fancy restaurant you’d been wishing to visit from the past year, but never got a chance to do so, “oh my god, I really wanted to come here to eat,” you told him, smile brightening and you were glad you had dressed up for it.
“I know,” he said, extending his arm for you to hold.
You looked at him, incredulous, “how?”
“I asked Karina,” he admitted as you held on to his arm softly.
You were thoroughly surprised at his revelation, knowing that he could’ve taken you to any normal place nearby but he chose this. You were in awe at how beautiful the interior was as you focused on the little details here and there.
“You didn’t have to do so much, Jeno,” you whispered, loving how his skin shone under the light of the chandelier.
He shook his head softly, eyes never leaving your face, “I know it’s a fake date but it doesn’t mean that I’ll take you to our usual cafés, you deserve more than that.”
You breathed in softly, breaking eye contact and looking at your fiddling fingers. You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest. Everything he did felt so genuine and well thought of. He cared about your likes and dislikes, he always took a note of your preferences.
Jaemin never did that.
“You’re too fucking sweet,” you muttered under your breath so he can’t hear it.
“Hm?” He asked, menu in his hands as he scanned it thoroughly for all possible options.
“Nothing,” you smiled, getting your phone out and clicking a few candid pictures of him, which did capture his attention.
“What’s that for?” He looked at you with big eyes, his face giving out the cutest expressions despite him looking tough in his undercut and newfound style.
“Why not? Can’t post my boyfriend on my story now?” You asked cheekily.
It was something you both had decided you’d do, the likes and replies flooded in soon as your friends were flabbergasted at the fact that Jeno had cut his hair and dressed up so well.
You both decided upon the dishes you wished to have and the waiter noted it down kindly, leaving you two alone to talk after.
“Won't you post me too?” You asked.
“I will, you just have to wait for a while. I promise it’ll be the prettiest picture ever,” he said, full of confidence.
“Well, that’s a challenge then because I don’t usually like my photos,” you smirked and he leaned in.
“We’ll see how that goes,” he challenged.
It was great that you could share any kind of emotions with him, whether it was you being goofy, him being silent, or you being nervous as he turns to be confident. It was a mix of everything.
Soon, your food was served to you and even the scent of the scrumptious meal was enough to make your mouth water as you hummed with delight with just one bite, saying it melted just perfectly in your mouth.
You didn’t notice him watching your eager face, loving your reaction as he felt like he did the right thing bringing you here. Until you catch him watching you.
“Is there something on my face?” You asked cluelessly, pouting as you ate another bite.
“Actually, yeah there is,” he said, leaning closer to caress the corner of your lip with his thumb, brushing away the crumbs gently as you simply sat with your heart pounding at his gesture. Even more so when he smiled, licking his thumb, “all done.”
“You’re really so good at it,” you muttered, and this time he heard it.
“At what?”
“If you do this,” you said, gesturing at your lip, “to any girl then she’ll definitely swoon over you.”
He raised his brow, “why? Did you like it that much?”
An awkward chuckle left your mouth as you tried to dismiss his question, “I’m just saying,” you state, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
He only laughed, “alright, sweetheart.”
You whined, and the other families around looked at you both with soft eyes, thinking you both were cute together as his eyes turned into crescents at your behaviour.
You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so at ease being out with someone. That wasn’t just all, Jeno insisted on taking you to another place for a little walk. Night had fallen as you walked together on a rather empty bridge, yet it was a pretty sight—water reflecting the glistening stars along with the crescent moon.
“How’s Jaemin?” You asked all of a sudden, not noticing Jeno’s smile faltering for a fraction of a second.
“He’s coping in his own way. I bet he’ll be back to uni tomorrow. But he definitely regrets it,” Jeno lets out slowly, “isn’t that your goal?”
You stop walking, trying to find the right words, “yeah,” you whispered, “but it’s not over until he confronts me himself. I need some closure,” you said, looking at him with a teasing smile now, “why? Don’t wanna be with me anymore?”
He licked his lips, biting his tongue as he smiled, which you noticed was another habit of his, “of course not. It’s good to have someone to talk to.”
“Yeah? Then tell me more about you,” you said, looking at the water as you folded your arms over the railing.
He was silent for a few seconds, joining you to lean on the railing, “I’ve always been the shy kid I guess. I was the one who always used to read sitting in the corner of a class and so, I never really had friends.”
You didn’t glance at him, letting him speak freely. Jeno was one of the kindest souls you had ever met and it was obvious even in the little time you had known him. You wanted him to be happy.
“Jaemin was my friend ever since we were kids, our families are really close so he was forced to befriend me. He didn’t mind it, he was the kindest child and helped me talk to others, he was also the reason why I met you guys,” he sighed, “Jaem was always first when it came to everything, he led the way for me and I let him do that each time.” He turned his head, looking your way as he whispered, “until I realized I should’ve been the first this one time.”
You couldn’t understand what he was referring to, yet you understood that Jaemin was dear to him, however his recent actions caused him to drift apart from Jeno.
A flash of light took you out of your trance. Jeno had clicked your picture, “show!” You said, almost jumping closer to him and his shoulders rose up as he laughed when you tried to get his phone from his hands.
“You’ll see when I post it,” he said.
You whined again, “but what if I look bad in the picture?”
“You can’t ever look bad, sweetheart,” he said earnestly and you could feel your cheeks heating up as you closed your mouth shut, biting your lip as you looked away shyly.
He chuckled, “let’s get you home now.”
You checked the time on your wristwatch, “oh, yeah. It’s late.”
You both started walking towards his car, getting off the bridge as Jeno saw you shiver with the sudden gust of chilly air hitting you.
He wasted no time in getting his jacket off and passing it to you, “here, it’s cold.”
Your eyes widened to see him wearing nothing but a white tank underneath which displayed his muscles as the moonlight accentuated it further. You never knew he worked out, your eyes travelling to his arms which were veiny.
Jeno looked unreal, almost like the bad boys you’d see in a movie but his well sculpted face made him look like a Greek god. He really had it all.
You didn’t even notice you had stopped walking as Jeno wrapped his jacket around your figure, smiling slightly as you reached the car, his scent enveloped you aa you hugged the jacket closer to you.
“T—thank you,” you spoke, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering.
“Can’t let my girlfriend freeze now, can I?” He stated more than asked.
He helped you get in the car by opening the door, which he always did. It was another habit of his which you found endearing. He got in the car soon, looking your way before he leaned in all of a sudden, his face inches away from yours, causing you to stop breathing for a few seconds.
The shape of his lips was beautiful.
He leaned back soon, dragging the seatbelt with him as he secured you in your seat. The proximity reminded you of how he kissed your forehead in the morning, and your mouth worked before your mind could as you asked him about it.
“Uh, so—why did you kiss my forehead in the morning?” You inquired.
He most certainly was not expecting that question, and his expression gave it away, “your friends were watching,” he stated, licking his lips, “and Mark was suspicious as we never kissed before or did anything other than hand holding,” he explained.
“Did he ask you about it?” You questioned, hugging the jacket closer to your body.
Jeno hummed as a reply, seeing you get comfortable on the seat with droopy eyelids, he knew you were going to fall asleep soon and he let you.
His heart could only take so much for one day.
He made sure to drive safe, glancing at your sleeping figure from time to time and he swore you looked like a baby when you slept.
You reached back safely and he stopped the car, he didn’t wish to wake you up when you looked so at peace. He called out your name softly, coming closer to pat your shoulder.
You stirred in your sleep, opening your eyes slowly to find Jeno close to you.
“We’re here,” he spoke, voice low.
“Oh,” you blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the street lights as you got out of the car, not expecting Jeno to get out along with you.
You looked at him in question and he just shrugged, his muscles flexing in the process, “let me walk you to your door,” he said.
Jaemin never walked you to your door.
“Don’t you ever get tired of being a gentleman?” You asked with an amused smile.
“Not when it comes to you,” he uttered quietly.
Heat rushed up the tip of your ears now that you stood in front of him, “Jeno—” you whispered, “thank you so much for today. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a date.”
A fake date, you reminded yourself.
“It’s good to see you happy,” he took a step closer, “good night, princess.”
He was gentle as he slowly brushed his fingers on your forehead to tuck your hair behind your ear, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your forehead in a featherlight kiss. You closed your eyes, the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin as he bid goodbye to you.
He was walking away by the time you could open your eyes and breathe again, not even bothering to ask for his jacket back from you.
You looked around your place once to see if your friends were watching this time.
They weren’t.
Your room had a tranquil atmosphere as the moonlight coming from the window lit it up. Your roommates were already asleep in their respective rooms as you got changed into your sleepwear and took your makeup off, carefully keeping Jeno’s jacket on the bed, not once thinking that your pillow would exude a scent like him too.
It was hard to sleep, as if you had a feeling of giddiness bubbling up inside of you. Even after tossing and turning, you couldn’t find a perfect position to sleep, not to mention how your mind had created a montage of today’s date, replaying it over and over.
You sighed, staring at the ceiling before closing your eyes shut, hoping you’d get some sleep before waking up for Uni in the morning. And slowly, you drifted to dreamland with Jeno’s scent lingering in the air.
Your alarm clock was your enemy. You really needed a few more minutes to catch up on your sleep, grabbing your phone to see if there’s something that could drive your sleepiness away.
There was.
Your picture was the first thing you saw when you opened Instagram, it was posted by Jeno instead of being put up as a story, which was unusual since he only had two pictures on his account—one of him and the other one of his cats.
A soft gasp left your mouth, heart thumping out of your chest as you saw the picture. The flash made you glow and you had the tiniest hint of a smile on your face as you looked at the night sky.
It was indeed your prettiest picture anyone had ever captured, it was exactly what Jeno had promised.
The caption, however, made you turn around and grab your pillow as you screamed into it, kicking your feet.
My girl, that’s what he wrote in his caption, paired with a red heart.
You knew it was for show but that didn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach from going feral. It felt too real, the gestures, the little things. It felt more real than your previous real relationship and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.
It was another day where you had afternoon classes, and so you did not go to the uni with Jeno. You had not liked or commented on the picture yet, pondering about how to go on about this.
Jeno had texted you twice, wishing you a good morning first and then asking if you had your lunch yet. You were tempted to reply but first, you gained a slight amount of courage and liked his post.
You typed a comment with the first thing that came to your mind.
You’re mine forever ❤️
Your cheeks burned up as you kept your phone down on one of the picnic benches kept around the campus, as that was the exact place you were sitting at after your classes had ended.
A very whiny and feminine voice called out your name, and you looked up to see Linda along with your ex and your fake boyfriend. The smile on her face was sickening and you wondered what they were doing together.
Yet again, you did not think twice before getting up and burying your face in Jeno’s chest, wrapping your arms around him in an embrace. This shocked Jeno, you could feel him go still for a negligible second before a deep laugh boomed up his chest, you could feel him vibrate as he wrapped his arms around your frame.
“Missed me that much, baby?” He asked, patting your head.
Jaemin watched the scene unfold with dark eyes.
“I missed you so much, baby,” you whispered.
It was the first time you had used a nickname on anyone, heck you never even called Jaemin that.
A cough separated you both and now you couldn’t muster up enough courage to look at Jeno while he couldn’t stop looking your way.
“Linda wants to have lunch together, like a double date,” Jeno told you and you saw Linda nod excitedly.
“It’s so romantic! We even got the lunch packed, see!” She raised her hand to show you two bags which probably had the lunch she was talking about.
This day couldn’t have gotten more weird.
“That sounds great!” You tried to sound cheerful but it only came out awkward.
Good for you, Linda didn’t pick up your tone and clapped excitedly, “we only have thirty minutes because I have my salon appointment after so let’s be fast,” she spoke in a go.
You noticed Jeno sporting the same look of confusion as you, it was an awkward situation indeed. Jaemin didn’t say a word, only observing you and Jeno.
Jeno took the paper bag and got the packed lunches out. He had gotten you your favourite salad with grilled chicken as he opted to get the same dish for himself, not forgetting to get you coke, which you preferred to drink while eating.
He really paid a lot of attention to your likes and dislikes.
Linda really couldn’t read the room as she never once stopped talking about this new lingerie set she got for herself, “Nana liked it too,” she giggled and you tried to focus on eating, not having it in you to picture it in your mind.
“I’ve told you not to call me that,” he spoke, his words harsh.
That was the first time he opened his mouth ever since you started eating. Linda didn’t care, pouting slightly as she started talking again, “let’s play couples quiz!” She squealed.
You could feel your headache growing with her high pitched voice.
“Jeno, when’s Y/no’s birthday?” She asked.
He fixed his gaze on you, answering the question correctly. You tried not to be shocked, displaying your sweet smile for them. He actually knew a lot about you, the eye contact made you bite your lower lip before you asked.
“Jaemin, when’s Linda’s birthday?” You asked now, questioning him directly, which he did not expect.
“Third of February,” he said and Linda gasped, offended.
“That’s not my birthday!” She almost screamed, bickering with him for a solid minute as Jeno passed you a few tissues, seeing the salad get on your fingers.
“Okay, next question,” she said and she kept on asking him questions as if it was a rapid fire round and Jeno answered each of them correctly. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, he knew your favourite colour, your favourite tv show and singer, your favourite cake and song.
Jaemin knew nothing.
Linda didn’t know a thing about Jaemin either, just like he never knew a thing about Linda.
Jaemin slammed his fist on the table, getting up and walking away without any second glance, you almost jumped with how loud the sound was, your hand resting on top of your chest to soothe your nerves.
Linda ran after him, or rather she tried to run after him in her heels.
“Are you okay?” Jeno asked you softly, his fingers caressing your cheek as he searched your face for any kind of discomfort.
You nodded, gulping and looking away.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Your skin wouldn’t stop tingling where he had touched you, it was almost impossible for you to breathe when he was so close to you.
“Y—yeah, I’m okay. I think I should go and get my assignments done now, yeah,” you said, fumbling over your words as Jeno frowned, wondering if he did something wrong.
“Y/n—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved at him, almost running away, leaving him with a dejected sigh.
Of course, you didn’t have to answer his questions, he reminded himself. It was a fake relationship after all.
So, while you laid in your bed with your pillow clutched close to your chest, Jeno stood in front of Jaemin at their apartment.
“Since when do you eat salad?” Jaemin asked, tone somewhat disappointing laced with a hint of jealousy.
“Y/n likes it,” Jeno smiled softly, “It was hard not to like it after.”
“You hated coffee,” Jaemin almost accused.
“I like it now, it’s normal to develop your taste,” Jeno replied calmly.
“You’ve never gone on a date before, you’ve never had this kind of hairstyle before. You’re changing yourself and for what?” Jaemin sighed, shoulders dropping when he accused him again.
Jeno only bit his lip, “love does things to you and I think I'm changing for the better.”
Love.
That’s all Jaemin had to hear before leaving the room.
“Why are you sulking, babygirl?” Yunjin asked you the next day, seeing you sitting with your blanket wrapped around you, a piece of chip in your mouth as you lazily snacked on it.
“Nothing,” you mumbled, hiding your face.
Yunjin rolled her eyes, “you were squealing in the morning yesterday, what changed?”
You sighed deeply, “I guess I’m just feeling a bit down today,” you shrugged.
She sat down on the bed, right in front of you before pulling you in the most warm and comfortable hug. It was something you appreciated even more this particular day. You felt conflicted with your feelings.
It’s the little things, it’s always the little things when it comes to Jeno, it creates a bigger picture for him. But for Jaemin, it was only the larger picture with no elements supporting it.
“That’s the problem, babygirl. I’m not gonna let you drown in your own blanket all evening. You’re coming with me to the party,” Yunjin stated, opening your closet to select an outfit for you already.
Turns out that Yunjin can be a great manipulator because there was no way you’d be standing in the middle of a party with a vodka shot in your hand otherwise.
Maybe drinking would help you, it always does. It’s almost pathetic how you’re ready to get shitfaced for a whole night just to get rid of intrusive thoughts, the thoughts which consisted of Jeno and Jeno only.
You drank that shot in a go, getting another one as Hyuck tried to stop you but to no avail. Once you had taken three shots, all in a row, you turned around to find Karina, who looked as if she spent a while trying to find you.
“Y/n! Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing your hand, “come, we’re gonna play upstairs.” Without much fighting, she dragged you upstairs and Hyuck followed behind.
You wondered what Jeno would be doing right now.
The multicoloured lights were shining bright as they covered the expanse of the whole staircase, which you had trouble walking up, courtesy of your heels and a very short dress.
Karina opened the door to a room and your eyes immediately scanned the surroundings to understand who you were going to deal with tonight.
It was your whole friend group and some of their mutual friends too, however that wasn’t why you stood frozen in your spot at the given moment.
Lee Jeno, the guy you had been avoiding since yesterday, was sitting in the same circle, the bean bags, sofas and chairs were arranged to be that way, as he sipped on a can of beer which he held in his slender fingers.
Seeing him at the party was shocking enough as he rarely attended any, but to add on to it, he was all dressed up as well.
He sipped on the drink, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gulped. The side angle gave you the best view of his undercut and defined jawline, your eyes travelling down to his chest, which was exposed as the top few buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, a black leather jacket covering him up as he also sported a few rings on his long, veiny fingers, a necklace gracing his slender neck.
You almost forgot how to breathe until Karina pushed you forward, which gained the attention of Jeno, who smiled your way as he expected you to come over to him.
Karina and Yunjin high fived in the background, meaning; it was their plan for you both to meet at the party.
Your heels clicked as you walked towards him, it was as if you both were the only ones in the room at the given moment. He wasn’t being subtle as he stared at you, especially how he looked up when you stood next to him.
“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you to him—which was something you never expected.
You landed straight on his lap, his arm wrapped around you securely as the other one rested on your thigh, covering up your skin which was showing, courtesy of your short dress.
Your mind blanked, you couldn’t think anymore as goosebumps rose up your arms when he spoke in his deep voice, the others also stopped to stare at you both as he was not the one to show affection in public.
Hyuck and Yunjin teased you both, yet that wasn’t something you paid much attention to. You didn’t even see Jaemin sitting in the same room, as if he wasn’t anyone to you anymore.
“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered, making you sit close to him, your hand working on its own as it held on to his broad shoulder for support.
You should have been used to this whole fake dating plan of yours, yet you couldn’t ever get used to Jeno’s constant surprises. It didn’t feel like it was fake when it came to him and it most certainly wasn’t a help how you could feel the alcohol kicking in, his hand felt warm on your cold skin.
“Jeno,” you whispered, looking at him with hooded eyes.
However, you never got to say anything further as others had decided on playing a classic game of twenty one dares.
The first dare went to Mark, who was given the dare to kiss his crush who sat right next to him.
“Why were you avoiding me all day?” Jeno asked in a whisper when everyone else was busy cheering for Mark.
You had no answer for it, nor did you have any way to control your heart which was thumping out of your rib cage with the proximity.
You breathed out with a chuckle which sounded forced, grabbing a beer can which was on the table in front of you, “avoiding you? Why would I?” You asked, looking away.
That wasn’t much help as he was quick to grab your chin, making you look his way again, “did I do something wrong?”
His actions were bold, yet his voice was sweet and full of concern. You shook your head, resting it on his shoulder, “of course not,” you whispered, not having it in you to look at him, “you’re really perfect, Jeno.”
He wasn’t given any time to react as others cheered.
Apparently, it was your turn to get a dare and the evil smile on Renjun’s face gave it all away, as if he knew exactly what was going on between you two.
“I dare you to kiss Jeno,” he smirked as everyone minus Jaemin clapped, Mark nodding, still red from the kiss.
“True, we’ve never seen you kiss,” Hyuck muttered in realization.
You stopped breathing, seeing everyone cheering for you. You had fake kissed him when Jaemin was watching that one day in the lawns, yet this was a whole different story when they were demanding an actual kiss from you both.
Jeno’s hand tightened around your waist, your dazed eyes taking in his expression as he raised his hand to cup your cheek, caressing the corner of your lips gently, as if he was asking for your permission.
You knew you were drunk, yet all your senses made you feel as thought you were the sanest person alive. The anticipation felt so painful and you could feel Jaemin’s stare on you both.
With a tender sigh, your eyes closed shut as you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him into you.
Your lips collided in a fervent kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging it ever so slightly, causing him to groan into your mouth as his hand supported the back of your head, tilting it slightly as your desire and passion fused together, transcending your surroundings.
You couldn’t hear the whistling or screaming around your surroundings, your mind completely gave in to the pretty boy, who was kissing you like his life depended upon it.
His lips were soft, perfectly moulding against yours as you moved them in harmony, letting the sheer pleasure take over your senses to the point you couldn’t differentiate between whether you were drunk which made you feel as if you were in the state of unadulterated ecstasy or it was simply Jeno’s effect on your body.
You didn’t pay attention to Jaemin, who threw the beer can on the floor, walking away from the room, nor did you care about Linda who ran after him.
All you knew was that Lee Jeno was kissing you and he was exceptionally amazing at it.
He squeezes your waist as you gasped, letting him bite your lower lip, lacking his usual self control as he mentally claimed you to be too intoxicating for him.
“Hey! Get a fucking room!” Renjun shouted.
That was enough for you to break the kiss, your eyes still closed as your chest heaved up and down, blood rushing to your cheeks as you felt tingly all over, the shiver going down your spine all the way to your abdomen.
Jeno was already staring at you by the time your eyes fluttered open. His lips looked plump, slightly swollen from how you had kissed him, the veins on his neck seemed even more prominent but his eyes—they were dark, laced with lust.
He didn’t wish to stop.
You didn’t want him to stop.
He got up from the chair, making you stand up along with him, his fingers quick to intertwine with yours as he pulled you with him, your wide eyes drifting to look at Karina who only winked at you, giving a thumbs up alongside it.
“Jeno,” you breathed, following him out and into an empty room, which he locked before pushing you against the wooden door.
You could barely stand given how weak your knees felt at that exact moment. It most certainly didn’t help that Jeno bent down to your level, the dim lights of the room making his skin shine as he asked you again.
“Why were you avoiding me, Y/n?” His tone gave you goosebumps when you heard your name roll out of his tongue.
Forming sentences felt like a tough job when his lips were borderline touching yours, “because,” you whispered mindlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Your voice was quiet, just like the room, which made it sound louder than intended as you looked him up through your lashes.
His jaw was clenched, you could notice him breathing deep, his hold on you tight and you chuckled deeply, alcohol taking over your senses, “I can’t stop thinking of you, Jeno.”
You didn’t let him reply before you pressed your lips onto his, your bodies pressed against each other, mouths moving as your lips melded and parted, his hands all over your body, every touch igniting a spark in you.
He tapped your thigh twice and you got the memo, jumping into his arms as he picked you up with ease, muscles flexing in the process but his lips never left yours while he walked towards the bed, helping you lie down as he got on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist as your dress started riding up your thigh.
He leaned back, eyes fixated on yours but you only continued to pepper kisses along his jawline, and down his neck, making him growl as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt.
“You’re drunk, baby. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning,” he says softly, breathing in your scent as he inhales deeply.
“I’m not,” you whined, switching your positions to be sitting in front of him, trying to remove his jacket, before he stops you with his fingers wrapping around your wrist.
He cupped your cheek as you looked at him sadly, “tell me, do you not want me?” You’d ask, playing with his necklace.
“Fuck,” he muttered. He couldn’t hold himself back, not when your eyes sparkled with innocence and undeniable glimmer of need, “you have no idea, darling,” he chuckles, running his thumb on your lower lip, which was still wet from your kiss, “I want you so fucking much.”
That was enough for you to smile at him, eyes hazy as you slid off the bed and got on your knees, unbuckling his belt as you fumbled with the button of his jeans while Jeno couldn’t believe this was happening.
The strap of your dress slid down, revealing more of your cleavage, that’s exactly when you helped him get out of his jeans, revealing his boxers. Your fingers grazed his clothed cock, your lips tugging up as you saw him groan, even more so when you kissed his semi-hardened cock.
His eyes never left yours during the entire time you teased him, getting his leather jacket off, leaving him in his white button up and boxers, which you pulled down in a go.
A shiver went down your abdomen, making you close your thighs with how big he was. His cock was hard, leaking with precum that made your mouth water. He had the biggest cock you had ever witnessed in your life, girth and veiny too.
He sucks in a sharp breath when you take him in your small hand, squeezing it a smidge before planting featherlight kisses all over his length, swirling your tongue around his head, he bit his lip as he took the scene in front of him. You licked big stripes of his length before taking his head into your mouth.
That snapped him out of his daze, he couldn’t take your teasing any longer. Pushing himself up slightly, he spread his legs to accommodate your body between it as he grabbed your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you took him in, your hands stroking the base where your lips couldn’t reach.
“Just like that, sweetheart,” he growled, pushing your head to hold his cock in you even deeper.
You can’t help but think how he looks nothing like his sweet self in the given moment, he looks like a devil who’s thirsting for lust, his eyes dark and so immersed in your activities.
His length throbs in your mouth as you continue your ministrations, quickening your pace as you sucked him off with all you had, hearing him growl made you realize how your panties were soaking wet when you release him with a satisfying pop sound, looking up at him again.
He sat straighter, his thumb wiping the saliva that was all over your chin and lips before pulling you up on the bed, spreading your legs to see a wet patch on your panties as you struggled to take your dress off.
He chuckled deeply, “Oh, bunny. Let me help you with that,” he says cursing once he sees you without any bra, his fingers tracing your neck, your clavicle and goes down all the way to play with your tits.
However, that’s not all he does. Your toes curl when he yanks your panties to the side, immersing his tongue to tease your clit before he licks and sucks you thoroughly, humming against your folds as he gets drunk on the taste of your juices.
His tongue prods on your entrance, pushing it in as your fingers grabbed his roots, tugging on his hair which also elicited a deep groan from him, your eyes rolling back with how ecstatic you felt.
He fucked your cunt, pushing his tongue in while his thumb worked wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you squirm around, finally moaning out, “Jeno, oh god!” You cried out.
“That’s it baby, scream my name,” he whispers against you, the moist squelching noises filling up the room as you arched your back, your body shaking with how you could feel your high approaching, as he yearned for your pussy, not stopping once, as if he had completely plunged his body to focus on your pleasure and your pleasure only.
You chanted his name as if it was a mantra you had to recite, and that’s exactly when you felt your stomach tightening, a teardrop leaving the corner of your eye, cascading down your neck as you allowed yourself to feel the unadulterated bliss Jeno provided you with.
It wasn’t the alcohol, you admitted.
You were drunk on Jeno.
You breathed in deeply as he licked you up, finally getting up as he rolled your nipples between the rough pads of his fingers before he also removed his last article of clothing, leaving you to see the shadow of his abs and pecs clearly.
“Tell me you won’t regret this in the morning, baby,” he breathes out, searching your eyes as his length brushes against your sensitive cunt.
“I won’t,” you promised, “I want you, I need you, Jeno,” you cried out as his eyes turned hooded.
He silenced your loud moan with his lips on yours, your nails digging into his back as he gave a sharp thrust, filling you up till he bottomed out easily with how wet you were, kissing your tears away and giving you a minimum of two seconds before he grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head.
“Do you know how pretty you look right now, bunny?” He asks, giving you another sharp thrust, this particular one hitting your g-spot, which had you whimpering out his name, “all mine, yeah?” He asks, thrusting harder, his hips slapping your ass.
“Y—yours!” You managed to speak, eyes closing shut with pleasure.
“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me when I fuck your pretty little cunt,” he whispers as your wail out when his cock hits your cervix.
He takes his time to kiss and mark your neck, his teeth digging in as he sucks on your sensitive skin harsh enough to leave marks.
It was effortless how he moved in and out of you so easily despite groaning about how tight your little hole was and you felt dumb, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. You just knew one thing and that was Jeno.
He manhandled you easily, turning you around and lifting your ass up, your face buried into the pillow as your mascara smudged, just how your lipstick was smudged all over your cheeks.
He thrusted into you yet again, smacking your ass as he saw it jiggle with the impact, another moan reverberated the room, which made him spank you twice more before he started fucking you again, your walls clenching around him with need as he gave you almost brutal backshots.
“I’m—Fuck!” You cried out, almost passing out as you breathed in deeply.
You both were so close, his cock twitched in you as his thrusts got sharper, “go on, bunny. Cream my cock like a good fucking girl,” he growled.
You withered beneath him as you screamed out his name with sheer pleasure as you reached your high, coating his cock with your juices before he also moaned deeply, fucking his cum into your glistening pussy.
He breathed in deeply as he pulled out, staring at your cunt which was dripping with your juices mixed together.
He sighed softly, holding you in his arms, “baby,” he whispered softly as you initiated a soft kiss, getting on his lap again as your heart beat rose up to the point you could hear it in your ears while Jeno felt the same way.
He could see how exhausted you were by how you started dozing off in his arms. He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, he didn’t want to know. All he wanted was to have you in his arms now and freeze the time.
It took him time to get up as he helped you get dressed up again, before he picked you up in his arms, getting down to see the party winding up. You were asleep and cuddling into him, his heart still racing as he saw Yunjin smiling at you two, “take her home with you,” she said, “and you better take care of her,” she added as a genuine warning, which made Jeno nod earnestly.
He would never hurt you.
He really was perfect with how he took you to his room safely, with how he tried to remove your makeup even though he had no idea what he was doing, yet he was gentle as you slept with how drunk and exhausted you were. He made sure to change your clothes to his loose ones, just so you would sleep comfortably.
He had fucked you, however he still was respectful and tried to not look your way while he changed your clothes.
You looked so peaceful as you snuggled close to his pillow in his bed, he couldn’t help but stare at you with a soft smile as he kissed your forehead, “sleep well, baby.” He whispered as he slid under the covers next to you, holding you as if he was scared he’d lose you, his body shivering ever so slightly at the thought as he cradled you in his arms.
Jeno really was perfect.
Your body was sore, the sunlight almost blinding you, adding on to the throbbing pain in your head as you shifted around the covers, opening your eyes with a groan to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings.
A low cry left your lips as the memories of the past night flooded into your mind, the graphic details of Jeno and you, the way he had asked you if you’d regret it.
You didn’t regret a thing.
And neither did you know how you’d face him after this. Yes, everything that started off as a fake relationship but even you couldn’t deny that none of it felt fake to you.
Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you saw a little note on the nightstand saying—
Good morning, sweetheart <3 Please take this medicine when you wake up and also drink the hangover soup! I’ll be at Uni and will be back by the time you wake up, love.
“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You whined to yourself, kicking your feet, “why do you have to make me feel this way?” You whispered to yourself, gulping and looking at the medicines and a bowl of soup on the nightstand.
You didn’t realize that you were wearing Jeno’s clothes till you spilled a little drop of soup on it, eyes widening for the nth time today as you gasped.
You couldn’t stay anymore, you got up and rushed to grab your clothes, which were folded neatly before you changed into them with a rush, getting out of his room while you checked your phone, bumping into a hard chest.
You winced, looking up as your expression dropped.
Na Jaemin stood there, his eyes sad as he searched your face for some kind of emotion, any kind of emotion, however you didn’t give him anything, choosing to walk away but he was quick to grab your wrist.
“Y/n,” he spoke your name in desperation and you tried your best not to turn around, yet you did, looking at his regret stricken face as he spoke further, “I broke up with Linda,” he started and you almost snorted.
“Well, good for you,” you said, turning around yet again, only to be stopped.
“Don’t fucking do this, Y/n,” he breathes, eyes watery, “I know you and Jeno aren’t dating. Come back to me, baby, I regret everything I did to you, please?” He almost begs.
“Don’t call me that,” you seethed out, “you know nothing about us and it’s too late, Jaemin. I don’t want you.”
He didn’t let you leave, pulling you into a hug as you struggled to get away, “I know you’re angry and you don’t mean it. Let’s be together again, we used to be so happy,” he whispered.
“And you fucking ruined it,” you cried out, pushing him away, “you ruined everything and you never cared about us! But y’know what? Jeno isn’t like you. He’s kind, caring and he’s genuine about everything,” you let out, stepping away, “I love him.”
Saying that out loud felt like you had lifted a boulder off your chest. Your face was equally surprised as Jaemin, but you didn’t stay any longer, shaking your head as you rushed out of the apartment and got into the safety of your own dorm.
You loved Jeno.
And you were sure he didn’t feel the same, it was all fake for him. You sat in your bathtub for hours, pondering and mentally slapping yourself for letting this happen but it was beyond you. Jeno was so easy to love.
What scared you the most that he hadn’t called you once, nor did he reply to any of your texts throughout the day. Your heart broke into pieces when he didn’t show up in front of your dorm to pick you up.
You were sure he hated you for drunkenly acting up that night, maybe that’s why he kept avoiding you. You had ruined everything.
The plan for the day wasn’t to attend the classes, but to find Jeno. Every second that passed by without him talking to you felt like a punishment, as if your anxiety would eat you up through and through.
He wasn’t by the lawns, he wasn’t in the cafeteria and you could feel your eyes welling up with tears of frustration when you couldn’t find Jeno. Yet you didn’t lose hope as you thought that he’d be in his lectures.
A big smile etched your face when you found him standing in front of his locker and you sprinted his way, which startled him. It was as if he didn’t expect to see you in front of him, his eyes leaving yours for a second before he smiled at you.
It was forced.
“Jeno,” you breathed out as you felt fidgety, “can we talk?”
He bit his lower lip, not answering for a few seconds before he nodded, guiding you towards the rooftop for privacy, not uttering a word throughout the way.
You stood side by side, watching the cloudy sky as he finally looked your way, “congratulations,” he let out, trying to smile.
You looked at him, confused which only made him speak further.
“I saw you and Jaemin hugging,” his voice broke but he gained his composure, “I know you’re probably back together now and you don’t need me—”
“Jeno,” you whispered, shaking your head as you stepped closer to stop him, yet he continued.
“We don’t have to fake date anymore,” he nodded, looking at his feet, “I’m glad I could help you forget about him for some time and also with your revenge—”
You were on the verge of crying by now as you whispered his name again.
“I’m so stupid to have thought that maybe it won’t be fake, but I know you want Jaemin—”
“Don’t you fucking see that I want you? Jaemin and I talked, yes we did and I told him I don’t want him. I don’t fucking want him, Jeno. You’re not a rebound to me, This isn’t fake to me anymore, I don’t think it ever felt fake to me,” you let out your frustrations, shutting him up fully.
“My heart feels like it would beat out of my chest every fucking time I’m near you, this longing intensifies each day and it scares me so much,” a crystalline tear escaped your eyes and Jeno was quick to cup your face, as if on instinct and wipe it away, “you do this sweet things no one ever did for me, you remember the smallest details about me and I feel restless when we don’t talk. I’ve grown so used to being around you, it’s not fucking fake. I think—I’m falling in love with you Jeno,” you finally let out.
“You—you love me?” He asks, voice barely a whisper as he finds it hard to breathe and you nod, his slender fingers still cupping your cheek, “you hugged Jaemin—”
“I pushed him away,” you said in a beat, “he hugged me, I didn’t,” you assured him, grabbing his hand which rested on your cheek, “I told him I love you.”
Jeno pulled you in his embrace, his body shook slightly which broke your heart thinking how he had it all wrong, you never wanted to see him hurt, just like how he always wished for you to be happy.
He held you tighter, making you feel safe as warmth bloomed up your chest, “I liked you ever since I saw you painting with Renjun on the day we met, but Jaemin was faster to reach out to you,” he confesses and you part your mouth with surprise as he leaned back to look at you, chuckling ever so lightly, “I hated how he treated you but when you came to me for help, I got selfish and used this to get closer to you, even if it meant that I’d have to fake date you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, “but I fell harder each day, even more so when I had to hold your hand and it felt so small against mine yet it fit perfectly, when you dressed up so beautifully for a fake date with me, when you looked so adorable in my jacket, when you remembered my birthday and my likes which even I hadn’t noticed before. I fell in love with you, baby,” he smiled through the tears as you pulled him in for a kiss, both of you smiling uncontrollably as it full of tenderness and affection, your hearts beating together as you shared unspoken promises through it.
You weren’t fake dating anymore as you looked at him with a silly smile, taking the document of your agreement out before scratching out a line.
How can you tell Palestinians to evacuate to Rafah, as it is supposed to be the only ‘safe’ place, but then bomb it anyway?
Palestinians don’t have anywhere to go. And people who could do so much to help are ignoring every single cry for help.
YOU ARE WATCHING A GENOCIDE HAPPEN. Hopefully, in the future, the world will be outraged of all the people ignoring the genocide in Palestine that is going on right this fucking second.
Fuck the Met Gala. Fuck Israel. Boycott Starbucks. Boycott McDonalds.
