⌲ Summary: Five years after their breakup, Y/N is exhausted, overworked, and doing everything she can to keep her son happy. Unfortunately for her, River has decided the solution to all of their problems is tracking down her famous ex-boyfriend and ambushing him in the middle of BTS practice.
♢ Pairing: Taehyung x single mother!Reader → idol au
♢ Genre: second-chance romance, exes-to-lovers, unresolved feelings, mutual pining, soft angst, humor, smut (also buff-Tae cause i'm never letting that man go)
m a s t e r l i s t
Knock knock.
"Come in."
"Uhm, Taehyung-sshi?"
"Yeah?" Taehyung had replied as he normally would to someone calling his name, but the employee who had knocked against the door of their lounge in the practice studio continued to hesitate and fidgeted nervously as he looked up curiously. Even Hoseok and Jimin who were there with him stopped their doomscrolling on phones to focus on the interruption.
"There's...uh...someone asking for you."
Taehyung frowns, not remembering any plans for today besides practice. "Who is it?"
The poor man visibly swallowed.
"...He says he's your son."
Queue; a pin dropped in the room as Hoseok choked on air and Jimin’s head snapped toward Taehyung so fast it was almost concerning.
Taehyung himself only stared flatly at the employee while his brain worked through approximately twelve different possibilities in under three seconds. There was, unfortunately, only one remotely plausible answer.
"And did this supposed son say anything?"
"Only that it's very important."
"...right, bring him up."
The employee looked relieved to be dismissed from the conversation entirely, bowing quickly before slipping back out the door. The second it shut behind him, silence detonated.
Jimin blinked once. Twice. Then; “You have a son?!”
Hoseok pointed aggressively from the couch. “THAT’S what I’m saying!”
Taehyung groaned quietly, already regretting every decision that had led him to this exact moment.
“No,” he said flatly. “I do not have a son.”
Jimin stared at him. “Then why did you sound like you knew who it was?”
“Because,” Taehyung muttered, dragging both hands down his face, “I’m pretty sure I know who it is.”
That only made the room more confused. Hoseok sat forward. “Kim Taehyung, if a child walks in here looking exactly like you, I’m calling Namjoon immediately, and what happens after is none of my business.”
Taehyung shot him a look at the threat just as another knock sounded against the door. Before anyone could respond, the door eased open slowly and a boy stepped inside.
He looked about twelve. Maybe thirteen if you didn’t look closely. Dark hair tucked beneath a black baseball cap, oversized hoodie swallowing his thin frame, backpack hanging from one shoulder. The boy looked briefly at Hoseok and Jimin first, clearly recognizing them, before his gaze landed fully on Taehyung.
That strange punch to the chest came suddenly. Because he looked nothing like Taehyung. But he looked so much like you.
The same eyes. Same habit of pressing his lips together before speaking. Same expression when nervous. For a moment, Taehyung forgot how to breathe.
The kid straightened awkwardly under the silence. “…Hi.”
Hoseok looked between them wildly while Jimin had gone completely still.
Taehyung stared at him. “River?”
The boy visibly relaxed at being recognized, and Taehyung couldn’t fathom why he thought it was possible to forget him. “Yeah.”
God.
Last time Taehyung had seen him, River had still been missing his front teeth and carrying dinosaur bandages on his knees. Now the kid was almost at his shoulder.
“My son, are you?”
The boy shrugged one shoulder easily, entirely too unbothered for someone who had just dropped a nuclear statement on one of the most famous men in the country. “It was the only way they would even let you know I was here.”
Taehyung stood slowly, hands settling on his hips as he tried for sternness, but the traitorous pull at the corner of his mouth ruined the effect immediately. “That’s manipulative.”
River tilted his head. “But it worked.”
There was no way Y/N survived this kid daily without developing a migraine.
River stepped fully into the room then, closing the door carefully behind him like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just walked into a BTS practice lounge and given everyone inside half a heart attack.
Taehyung stared at him properly for the first time in years. Longer limbs, bigger shoes, though they’d clearly seen better days, but the same intelligent eyes. Still carrying that same quietly observant energy he’d had as a child, except sharpened now—more sarcastic around the edges.
And still unmistakably yours.
“You got taller,” Taehyung said before he could stop himself.
River huffed softly. “That’s usually what happens after four years.”
Taehyung pressed his lips together hard, fighting laughter now. “Wow. Okay.”
“You started it.”
Taehyung ignored that completely, unable to take his eyes off the boy in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he asked carefully.
At that, River’s earlier confidence seemed to flicker. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bright blue backpack. “It’s about my mom.”
summary: What happens when you call your best friend a good boy?
warnings: p0rn with very little plot, pet names, outdoor s3x, praise, established relationship, friends to lovers, size difference, overstimulation
“Oh, you are so a golden retriever boyfriend, Channie!” You grabbed your phone and in a flash started to scroll and search for the definition. It was summer and that meant BBQ’s and beers at Chan’s place. The sun was high in the sky and the two of you were on your fourth or fifth beer. “A-ha! Here it is!” You turned your phone screen to Chan so he could read the perfectly executed Urban Dictionary definition. His eyes squinted a bit as he read, mouthing the words “loyal” and “easy-going” and “sunshine”. His lips slowly curled up into a smile as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.
“You really think that about me?” He asked softly, his eyes still locked onto you.
“Of course I do!” You beamed, smiling so wide your cheeks made your eyes almost disappear. Chan was fiercely loyal, that was the truest part of the definition, almost to a fault. For the better part of a year he had been in a more than toxic relationship. Every fight, every argument, every misunderstanding he had with her, you tried your best to be the supportive friend even though it was killing you inside. You were happy that the relationship had ended and you knew your best friend was better off but there was a part of you that sensed Channie needed a reminder of just how great he really was.
You leaned forward in your chair so your face was even closer to Chan’s. “I could just pat your head and tell you what a good boy you are!” You giggled softly and patted the top of his head one, two, three times. “Good boy.” You said gently. Not in a teasing tone or as a way to mock him. The words were just stated as fact. Those two words shot through Chan’s chest like a bullet. Bursting through his ribcage clear to the other side. He froze in place for a moment unsure of what this feeling was. He had been praised before, sure. He had been told he was “doing great” by girls while he was inside of them. Slamming away, in and out and in again. Hitting those soft, spongy spots that made their eyes roll back and their tongue loll out of their mouth. He had been told how big he was. “So big!” Was a regular phrase that he never got tired of. His cock stretching and making room inside a tight, wet cunt was a feeling he was used to, a feeling he loved.
But this feeling was new. It was feral, gnawing, needy, aching. You were someone that saw him, really saw him, for everything he was. His accomplishments, his flaws, his ups and his downs. You had been there for all of it and still saw the best in him. He wanted to be good for you. That's what this feeling was. He wanted to hear those words again and again and again while he made you feel the most intense pleasure of your life.
The next few minutes moved like sand through an hourglass. Chan stared at your lips still wet with beer from your most recent sip. He leaned in slowly, lingering in the moment to see what your reaction would be. Would you pull away? Would you be upset with him for evening attempting such a bold move? Kissing his best friend, this could change everything between the two of you. Chan leaned in closer still, his eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes then back to your lips again. He wanted to taste you so badly. He needed to show you just what a good boy he could be. Your breath caught in your chest as Chan’s button lips lightly brushed against yours. His nose angled against your top lip right in that spot underneath your nose. Cupid’s bow. That’s the word that flashed in your mind as you closed your eyes and started to part your lips for him. He smelled like beer and sunscreen. Like summer and sunshine incarnate.
“Chan…” You moaned into his mouth barely above a whisper.
Chan growled back in response, He snaked his hand through your hair until it rested on the back of your neck. He pulled you in hard, deepening the kiss. Your body responded in an instant. Without hesitation you pulled at his tank top to bring him closer to you. A wordless promise that you were ready for anything he had in store for you.
Chan gripped your thighs hard and wrapped them around his waist while simultaneously picking you up and sitting you down on the edge of the patio table. The metal from the old table legs squeaked and creaked softly as you and Chan moved as one. He reached his arms up and slightly back to pull his tank top up and over his head. His biceps flexed and pulsed with the intense muscle that lay underneath. He groaned in frustration at the sight of your jean shorts. While earlier today he was admiring how perfectly they sculpted around your ass, now they were just too tight and too in the way of where he so desperately needed to be.. He pulled at the buttons clumsily and ripped at the zipper so harshly that it completely broke.
“Channie!” You squealed. You weren’t really mad. In all truth you found it incredibly sexy. You had never had someone want you so badly that they were willingly to tear off your clothes.
Chan gave you a slight smirk and simply said, “I’ll buy you new ones.”
Next thing torn to pieces was your panties followed by the same weak objection from you and the promise made from him.
You lived in a quiet, suburban neighborhood. You rented but you loved your quaint little home. One thing you never gave much concern to was your neighbors. You would have backyard barbeques with your friends almost every weekend and while you weren’t particularly “wild” you didn't let the potential of uppity neighbors stop your fun. Besides, your neighbors would party sometimes too. You’d hear loud music or shouting and shrug it off. Who cares? No, you never really considered the people living around you. That was until your best friend started to slide his hard cock inside you. When Chan’s cock was starting to stretch you, slowly inching its way deeper and deeper, then you considered who might be around. Because now, in this moment, you had to moan, you had to scream, you had to shout something. It was all just so good. It was all just so much. He was just SO. GODDAMN. BIG.
“Ch-Channie..” You murmured. “C-cover my m-mouth. I’m gonna scream..”
Chan looked up from where his cock was moving, almost at the base now. He tried hard not to move his hips too much so you could adjust to his size. You were just so tight it was driving him crazy. He nodded and gently covered your mouth with his large hand. Your eyes rolled back as he bottomed out inside of you. You let out a long, muffled moan, gripping hard at his forearms. You wiggled your hips wildly, signalling him to start moving his as well. Then you mumbled something into his hand right before he pulled it away.
“What?” He grunted, his eyes focused again on your perfectly wet cunt wrapped around him.
“I said, Good Boy.” You panted through a smile.
Chan’s pupils widened and his eyelids lowered. His hands found their way to your hips as he gripped hard until the tender sensitive flesh felt like it may bruise. You arched your back from the sensation of pleasure and pain. Chan snapped his hip and began to thrust into you at a feral and unforgiving pace. One of his hands left your hip and trailed slowly down your stomach until his thumb resting on your swollen clit. He rubbed easy concentric circles on the sensitive nub making your pussy squeeze and grip around his cock. Every time you clenched around him he groaned and growled in approval. Little words were used now, just guttural sounds of pleasure and need for release. Only one phrase remained now.
“Say it again.” Chan moaned. His feral cries were mixing with a begging plea that sounded so delicious you felt like you could cry.
Synopsis: You and Felix are contestants in a social experiment where singles meet and date in private pods, allowing them to communicate without seeing each other. (18,5k words)
Author's note: Sorry for the late post but it's here and fair warning, it's getting spicy y'all. As always, hope you enjoy it❣️
Felix has never been this nervous in his entire life. Not during culinary competitions.
Not even when he proposed to you. Yet somehow, standing here now in front of the sliding doors leading to the reveal hallway feels infinitely more terrifying.
His hands stay clasped tightly in front of him, fingers rubbing anxiously together while he tries to properly breathe despite the violent pounding of his heartbeat. Because on the other side of those doors is you. The woman whose voice became his fiancée in less than a week.
Felix swallows hard and shifts his weight slightly, trying not to bounce nervously in place. He wonders what you’re doing right now. If you’re nervous too. If you’re pacing the room or fixing your dress for countless of time like he does. Because in a few seconds, everything is going to change. Because after days of imagining your face and your eyes and the way your lips curve when you smile— He finally gets to see it for real.
Felix closes his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. Then exhales. Again. And again. The nerves twisting through him right now aren’t about whether he still wants this. He wants this more than anything. It’s the opposite that scares him.
What if you look at him and something shifts? What if he doesn’t fit the version of him you created in your head? The thought unsettles him because no matter how emotionally connected you two are, physical attraction still exists in the real world outside the pods.
All of a sudden, Felix feels painfully aware of every tiny insecurity he normally ignores. Does his hair look okay? Should he’ve picked a different suit? What if you think he’s ugly? What if—
The producer’s voice cuts through his spiraling. “Ready, Felix?”
He laughs softly under his breath because he’s not ready. Not entirely. But still, he nods. Because no amount of fear could possibly make him turn around now. Not when it’s you waiting on the other side.
-
FELIX: I genuinely can’t believe this experiment worked. Like… of all places to find my future wife? Behind a wall on reality television? [laughs] But somehow it happened. And I think that’s what makes this moment feel so overwhelming. Because now it’s real and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared about meeting face-to-face for the first time. [nervously chuckles] What if I don’t fit her expectations? [thinly smiles]
-
You think this might be the most nervous you’ve ever been in your entire life. You stand directly in front of the sliding doors leading to the reveal hallway, trying very hard to keep yourself composed. Trying and failing, more like. Because your palms are sweating so badly you keep wiping them against your dress every few seconds only for them to immediately become damp again.
“Oh my god,” you whisper under your breath. Your chest rises as you inhale deeply through your nose, forcing yourself to breathe slower.
You’re okay. You’re fine. This is Felix. The same Felix who makes you laugh until your cheeks hurt. The same Felix who listens carefully when you talk about painful things. The same Felix who promised to love you unconditionally through a glowing wall while your entire heart shook in your chest.
It’s Felix, your fiancé.The words send another nervous wave crashing through your stomach.
In the pods, you only had feelings. Voices. Emotional connection. Out here, reality exists again and despite trying to calm yourself down, your thoughts keep spiraling anyway. What if he looks at you and hesitates? What if you disappoint him? What if he expected someone prettier, more elegant—
“Nope,” you mutter quickly to yourself, cutting the thought off before it can claw at you.
You straighten your shoulders slightly and inhale again. Because no matter how scared you are, one thing remains painfully true beneath all the panic: You want him.
Maybe that’s why this feels so overwhelming because Felix somehow slipped past every defense you built around yourself over the years without even trying. A man you’ve never seen before somehow became one of the safest places you’ve ever known.
Then suddenly, a mechanical sound echoes through the hallway. The doors begin sliding open and your entire world changes with them.
-
YOU: I still can’t believe this worked [softly laughs] Like genuinely… I came here thinking this whole thing was a bust already. [laughs] and now somehow, I found someone who aligns with me so naturally it scares me. Felix feels… [softly smiles] Like a star that just fell right onto my lap.
-
Felix inhales deeply the second the doors begin sliding open and there you are, standing at the other end of the hallway like something pulled straight out of a dream he’s been building in his head for days.
For one suspended moment, the entire world goes quiet. Felix just stares because somehow, you’re even more beautiful than anything he imagined. Soft lights glow around you while your eyes immediately find his, widening slightly before your entire face breaks into the brightest smile he’s ever seen. And instantly, his own lips curve upward so hard his cheeks ache.
Felix doesn’t hesitate. He half-jogs down the hallway toward you before you can even properly start walking his way, laughter bubbling out of him from pure disbelief and happiness.
You’re laughing too now, nervous and overwhelmed while continuing to mutter soft, breathless little oh my gods under your breath as he gets closer and closer.
The second he reaches you, his arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you flush against him like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And whoa— You’re real.
Before he can even process the feeling fully, Felix instinctively leans in and kisses you. Just this overwhelming pull dragging him straight to you the second he touches you. The kiss lands a little stiff at first from nerves, then soften and deepens almost immediately beneath shared relief and disbelief and emotion overflowing too fast to contain properly.
And god, it’s everything he hoped it would be. More, actually. Kissing you feels strangely familiar like finding something he didn’t realize he’d been missing.
When Felix finally pulls back, breathless and smiling, his arms stay tightly around your waist while yours loop instinctively around his shoulders, holding him just as close. You feel exactly the way he imagined it would feel. Exactly the way he wanted it to feel.
Felix presses his mouth close to your ear, overwhelmed emotion making his voice smaller than usual. “You feel like a dream to me.”
A soft laugh escapes you immediately against the crook of his neck, warm breath brushes the skin there.
He leans in closer, lips grazing your ears as he whispers again, “I’m never going to let you go.”
Your arms tighten slightly around him at that and then softly, with that smile still lingering in your voice, your murmur, “I hope not.”
Slowly, reluctantly, the two of you pull back just enough to properly look at each other. Your hands slide down naturally until your fingers lace together between you.
Felix swears he could stare at you forever. Because you’re looking at him the exact same way he’s looking at you — bright-eyed and stunned and full of disbelief that this person is finally real.
You blink at him slowly before your free hand lifts carefully toward his face. Your fingertips brush lightly against his jaw, almost hesitant. Like you’re still making sure he exists.
“Did you just walk out of a fairytale?” you ask, voice so low it’s almost a whisper.
Felix not sure if he heard you right. “Mmh?”
“You literally look like a prince charming,” you answer softly.
Felix laughs quietly, cheeks immediately warming. His hands lift to cup your face gently between them before he leans down and kisses you again. This one slower and full of intention. Everything unspoken spills into it naturally — the pod conversations, the vulnerability, the fear, the certainty, the impossible feeling of finding each other through a wall.
When Felix pulls away this time, his forehead rests lightly against yours while he breathes softly through a smile. “I love you.”
The words leave him effortlessly because he’s been planning on saying it to you because it only feels right to him to do it in person. Yet he can’t deny that saying those words out loud terrifies him a little.
Your expression softens immediately into something unbearably tender. “I love you too.”
The answer comes just as naturally and a second later, your eyes widen slightly like it’s only sink into you just now. The wight of those words. “Did I just say that?”
Felix bursts into laughter immediately and you follow suit a second later, burying your face briefly against his shoulder in embarrassment while he holds you tighter, grinning so hard his face hurts.
Because this is real.
You are real.
-
FELIX: It was too perfect [shyly laughs] And she’s so beautiful. [shakes head in disbelief] Like actually unfairly beautiful. But more than that… It still felt like her. [smiles] I couldn’t be happier that it’s her. She’s genuinely too good to be true.
-
You can’t stop staring at him and honestly, you think your brain might’ve stopped functioning the second Felix walked through those doors. Because how is he real? How is this the same man whose deep voice murmured softly to you through speakers at midnight? The same man who joked about seven children and kangaroos and tiny chef hats?
He looks like something out of a fairytale. Lean and solid and devastatingly beautiful under the warm lights of the reveal hallway, blond hair falling perfectly around his face while his eyes stay locked on yours like he still can’t believe you’re real either.
Prince charming. That’s genuinely the only thing your overwhelmed brain can come up with right now. And absurdly enough, that deep voice does not match this face at all.
You let out a small disbelieving chuckle under your breath, still staring at him while your fingers remain tangled together between you.
You shake your head immediately, smiling helplessly. “My prince charming…” You murmur almost to yourself.
However, Felix’s expression changes slightly, nervousness flickering across his face again as one of his hands slips free from yours and moves toward the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He softly smiles while pulling out a small velvet ring box.
And despite already saying yes in the pods. Despite technically already being engaged, seeing it happen here in front of you feels entirely different.
Felix opens the box carefully before taking the ring out first and then slowly, he gets down on one knee.
No part of you ever genuinely believed moments like this would happen to you. Not like this and definitely with someone looking at you the way Felix is looking at you now. With so much affection, so much trust, so much hope — it almost makes your knees weak.
Felix glances up at you with the softest smile before asking, “Will you still marry me?”
In that moment, all your fear suddenly disappears because the answer feels easy now. You know that even if those doors had opened and he looked completely different. Even if he looked nothing like the version you imagined—
You still would’ve chosen him. Over and over again. Without hesitation. Without doubt.
Your eyes sting warmly again as you smile down at him and in conviction, you answer, “Yes.”
Felix’s entire face brightens and the smile that spreads across his face looks ethereal in its happiness as he carefully slides the ring onto your finger. And somehow, that tiny weight settling there makes everything hit you all over again.
You’re engaged.
Felix lifts your hand carefully afterward, holding it so gently and then presses a soft kiss on the ring perched on your finger.
“Oh my god,” you whisper shakily.
Felix laughs softly before standing again and immediately pulling you back into his arms.
This hug feels warm and full, like something inside him finally relaxed hearing your answer in person. And then he kisses you again. And again. Small kisses between laughter and smiles and shaky breaths like he physically can’t stop touching you now that he finally can.
You kiss him back just as desperately. Because every emotion you’ve been carrying for days suddenly has somewhere real to go.
When Felix finally breaks away, he leans close to your ear again to whisper, “I can’t wait to marry you.”
The words hit you right in the chest Because even now, part of you still feels like this can’t possibly be real. “Please keep holding me tight,” you mumble softly against his neck as you tighten your arms around his shoulders. “So I know this is real.”
Felix lets out the softest laugh and then unexpectedly, his arms tighten around you even more and suddenly your feet are off the floor.
You squeal immediately, clutching onto him as he spins you around in a slow circle, laughing breathlessly while dizziness and happiness crash through you all at once.
His laughter vibrates against you warmly before he finally sets you down carefully only to kiss you again immediately afterward like he still can’t get enough. Like neither of you can quite believe the other actually exists.
Eventually, the staff gently signals that your time is almost up. Reality creeps back in too quickly. Reluctantly, the two of you slowly separate just enough to properly look at each other again.
Your fingers remain tightly intertwined with him. “I’ll see you again soon,” you tell him softly.
Felix smiles instantly at that and leans forward to place one more kiss against your lips. And another against the ring on your finger. Then slowly and reluctantly, he lets your hand go.
The two of you begin walking backward toward your separate waiting rooms, neither able to fully stop looking at each other. Every few steps, one of you glances back again. Then both of you do. Again and again. Until you’re both laughing softly at how ridiculous you probably look.
Still, you can’t stop smiling at him. Not even for a second.
By the time you reach your doorway, you lift your hand toward him in a small wave.
Felix immediately does the same, smiling so warmly your chest tightens all over again. Then the sliding doors close between you.
The second they shut, you completely collapse backward onto the tiny sofa inside the waiting room. Your hands immediately fly to your face, feel the blood rushing in your cheeks.
“Oh my god.”
Your voice echoes through the empty room while your heartbeat still refuses to slow down.
Because against all logic, you really did just meet the man you’re going to marry.
-
YOU: The emotional connection between us is so strong that seeing him in person honestly didn’t change anything. It just confirmed everything I already felt. [Shyly laughs] And yes, obviously I think he’s attractive. And now I’m just really excited for the vacation. [smiles] I’ve been emotionally respectful for five whole days. [mischievously grins] And I think my fiancé deserves to get taken advantage of a little. [laughs]
-
The hotel suite is beautiful. But honestly, Felix barely notices it at first because he’s too busy watching you.
The second the two of you step inside, your entire face lights up with quiet wonder as you slowly take in the room around you. It’s spacious, the furniture are all cream-colored, rose petals scattered on the bed while massive windows stretch across almost the entire wall overlooking the ocean outside.
You wander farther inside almost instinctively, fingertips brushing lightly against the flower arrangement on the coffee table before you disappear toward the balcony doors.
Felix follows without even thinking about it like his body already naturally gravitates toward wherever you are.
The sliding doors open softly, letting in warm evening air carrying traces of salt from the sea below. Most of the sunlight has already faded now, leaving the sky painted in deep shades of blue and orange while the ocean glimmers faintly in the distance beyond the resort lights.
You step closer toward the metal railing, leaning against it slightly while staring out at the view. “It’s so beautiful,” you murmur quietly to yourself.
To Felix, you are the only beautiful view he sees. Especially with the way the wind pushes softly through your hair while the fading sunset casts warm light across your face, and suddenly he feels that same overwhelming disbelief all over again.
You are his fiancée.
Slightly shaking his head in disbelief, he steps closer behind you before slipping both arms gently around your waist and you immediately melt against him like you belong there.
Felix rests his chin lightly against your shoulder while the two of you stare out toward the ocean together. The warmth of your body against his feels grounding somehow after how surreal the last few days have been. You continue quietly admiring the view beneath your breath while his arms tighten just slightly around you.
The silence that settles between you isn’t awkward at all. It’s the kind of silence that feels intimate rather than empty. Felix thinks he could stay like this forever honestly. Just holding you while the world slows down around both of you.
Then after a while, you slowly turn your head slightly toward him. Your eyes meet his from over your shoulder. And there’s that look again. That warm disbelief. That softness that seems reserved only for him now.
“I still can’t believe all of this,” you honestly share, voice so small yet heavy with disbelief. “It feels like a fairytale.”
“Well, you deserve it,” he assures you, playfully touching your nose with his. “Everything and more.”
Then he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. The kind of kiss that feels less overwhelming yet somehow even more intimate because of it.
Your fingers lightly curl around his forearms while you kiss him back immediately, smiling softly against his mouth halfway through it.
Felix smiles too because kissing you already feels dangerously addictive and the craziest part is this is only the beginning.
-
FELIX: I’m really excited for this part. [laughs] Because in the pods, we connected emotionally first. And I love that we got to build that foundation before anything else. But now… [smiles] I get to actually spend real time with her, getting to know her better… [slyly grins] physically.
-
Dinner on the balcony somehow feels even more surreal. Maybe because now there’s no wall between you anymore. Just you and Felix sitting across from each other with the glow of the candlelight that’s swaying along with the sea breeze while the distant ocean hums softly somewhere beyond the darkness.
The trip to get here exhausted both of you enough that the second the food arrived, neither of you even tried pretending to be elegant about it. Somewhere between the casual chat and feeding each other, the atmosphere softens into something warm and intimate.
At one point, Felix insists on making you try a combination of food from his plate. “Trust me,” he says confidently while holding the fork toward you.
“You’re literally a chef. If this tastes bad, your whole reputation collapses.”
Felix dramatically gasps. “You wound me.”
Still, you lean forward and take the bite from the fork anyway and he’s right, it’s incredible.
“Oh, yeah,” you mutter while nodding in approval.
Felix grins proudly and for a moment you just sit there quietly looking at him while your chest is flooded with happiness. Because everything feels perfect right now. The suite. The ocean breeze. The food. The view. Him. Especially him.
Eventually the plates empty out, leaving only half-finished glasses of wine between you while the night deepens around the resort. You sit curled slightly sideways in your chair while Felix sits close enough that your knees brush occasionally under the table.
It’s hard not to notice the way he cannot stop looking at you. At all. Every time you glance up, his eyes are already on you, soft and focused, but enough to make your stomach flip embarrassingly hard. And he’s always touching you too like he’s afraid that you’re just fragment of his imagination if he weren’t.
Now his hand softly rubs up and down your bare arm absentmindedly while he stares at you like he’s still trying to process that you’re real. “Beautiful,” he murmurs quietly.
Your heart stumbles immediately and you tilt your head slightly to the side, a teasing smile pulls at your lips. “The view? The suite? Me? You?”
Felix softly laughs before shaking his head. “Everything’s beautiful,” he admits, gaze softens as he stares at your face. “But mostly you.”
He says it so naturally like it’s simply factual. Then his fingers gently catch beneath your chin afterward, guiding your face toward him before he leans in and kisses you tenderly. The kind of kiss that melts through you instead of overwhelming you.
When he pulls away, you can’t stop yourself from smiling at him immediately afterward.
Felix smiles too, almost helplessly, before his hand drops lower toward your side. The back of his fingers brush lightly against the exposed skin beneath your cropped top. The touch is gentle, tender even. But the way he looks at you while doing it suddenly feels intense somehow. Like he’s actively holding himself back from touching you more.
The realization sends heat rushing straight through your body. So softly, flirtatiously, you ask, “So… what’s next?”
Felix’s eyes flicker toward yours immediately. The corner of his mouth lifts into a half smirk. “We can do whatever we want.”
You keep your composure and lean a little closer across the small space between you, faintly biting your lower lip before asking innocently, “Whatever?”
Felix immediately breaks into a sheepish grin. It’s adorable and dangerously attractive. Still, despite the obvious tension thickening quietly between you now, his voice remains gentle when he answers, “We don’t have to rush anything just because we’re engaged. I want you comfortable.”
Your expression softens at that. Especially with the way he gazes into you with his small, doe eyes.
“I’ll only move at your pace,” he adds with such warmth that keeps sneaking past every defense you’ve ever built.
You softly smile at him and glide your hand up his arm. “I really said yes to the right man, huh?”
Felix’s smile turns sheepish once more and you lean forward, capturing it in a tender kiss. And he tastes so sweet, sweeter than any desserts.
-
YOU: Yes. I definitely want to use this vacation to get to know Felix better. But also… he’s ridiculously hot [slyly grins] I just can’t wait to tear his clothes off and jump his bones. [shamelessly laughs]
-
The bathroom is almost as big as the suite itself and the warm lights creates this soft haze as steam slowly fills the air from the tub you’re currently preparing near the window overlooking the dark ocean outside.
Felix honestly doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act normal right now. Because suddenly domesticity with you feels dangerously intimate.
You sit on the edge of the tub, one hand steadily control the faucets to find the perfect mix of hot and cold water. Your toiletries scattered beside his on the counter already like the two of you have known which side to take. His chest suddenly overflowed with warm feeling.
Felix stands by the sink unpacking his toiletry bag, dressed only in black boxer briefs while the hotel bathrobe hangs loosely off his shoulders. His hair is slightly messy from the humidity already beginning to gather in the room. Meanwhile his brain is trying very hard not to short-circuit every time he looks at you. Which is difficult. Very difficult.
Felix pulls his toothbrush from the bag before pausing abruptly. He rummages through it and realizes that he only packed a toothbrush, but no toothpaste.
“Hey, can I borrow your toothpaste?” he asks, turning slightly to the side.
You glance over your shoulder briefly while dipping your fingers into the bathwater to check the temperature. “No.”
Felix turns toward you immediately with a betrayed expression. “No?”
The second he sees the tiny smile tugging at your mouth, realization hits him. You don’t mean it. You’re joking.
You burst into laughter almost immediately afterward and walk toward him. “Of course you can borrow mine. What’s mine is yours now,” you warmly say.
You said it so simply, so matter-of-factly but it hits him square on the chest. Especially with the way you lean closer after and press a featherlight kiss against his jaw.
Felix exhales softly at the contact automatically, one of his hands settling instinctively against your waist.
Your palm rests against his chest for a moment afterward. Your eyes steady on his. Then, your hand glides downward, fingers lightly trailing over the toned planes of his stomach. Your eyes flick down as you’re following the trail of body hair that leads you lower and lower until it disappears beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.
“I like this,” you murmur so softly it almost like a whisper.
Felix completely stops functioning for a second. His face grows warm while his heart hammering inside his chest. Because the look you’re giving him right now is soft and playful and seductive enough to make his brain completely blank out.
And your hand is still there, resting lightly against the waistband of his boxer briefs while you stare up at him through your lashes with the faintest smile curling at your lips.
Felix swallows hard while your smile widens, clearly enjoying his struggle. Then after letting him suffer for another second, you finally pull away.
“The tub’s ready,” you announce casually like you didn’t just nearly kill him.
You don’t wait for another response though. Instead, you turn toward the tub and he watches through the mirror as your fingers slowly untie your bathrobe. Not long after, the robe slips from your shoulders and then falls soundlessly to the floor.
All of a sudden, every coherent thought leaves his body entirely. You’re beautiful. Devastatingly so. His eyes drift helplessly over the curve of your back, the soft lines of your body illuminated under the soft bathroom lighting while you step carefully toward the tub.
One foot first, then the other. And slowly, you lower yourself into the water with a soft sigh.
Felix stares at your reflection in the mirror for one suspended second too long before dragging both hands over his face.
Lord, give me strength.
-
FELIX: I’m just a man at the end of the day [grins] I’m trying to be respectful. But she’s… [sighs] she’s beautiful. Insanely beautiful and she knows what she’s doing… [shakes head] [sucks air through his teeth] I need everyone to understand that I’m fighting for my life in there. [laughs]
-
You sink deeper into the warm water with a soft sigh, trying very hard to act normal. Because Felix is still standing there by the sink looking unfairly good in nothing but messy blond hair, sculpted abs on show, black boxer briefs, and a bathrobe barely hanging from his shoulders like it’s fighting for its life. Meanwhile you’ve been waiting for him to join you for what feels like forever now.
“Felix,” you call out impatiently.
He glances at you over his shoulder immediately, amused already. “Hm?”
“Get in.”
A soft chuckle leaves him at your tone. But he still doesn’t move fast enough for your liking.
You dramatically stack your hands together against the edge of the tub before resting your chin on top of them, staring directly at him now.
“Come, get in already,” you coax sweetly.
Felix laughs at your impatience, finally turning fully toward you this time. His fingers slip toward the opening of the bathrobe first, slowly tugging it from his shoulders.
You’ve already spent the entire evening trying not to stare at him too much, trying to behave like a normal fiancée instead of someone one step away from climbing him like a tree. But the second the robe falls away completely—
Oh.
Oh, wow.
You physically stop yourself from gasping out loud. Your eyes stay locked on him shamelessly now while something sparks within you and throughout your body. Because he looks even better than you imagined. Toned stomach. Dainty waist. Lean muscle softened just enough to still look gentle instead of intimidating.
He’s beautiful. Completely unfair to exist in real life.
He notices your stare immediately and doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest. If anything, his mouth twitches upward slightly at the corners. And goodness, that unwavering confidence is the sexiest part of him.
Without breaking the eye contact, his fingers hook into the waistband of his boxer briefs. And despite trying very hard to maintain composure, your eyes widen just slightly while you watch him slowly push the fabric down his hips.
You don’t even pretend not to look anymore. Your gaze openly sweeps over his body while your brain quietly short-circuits. Every part of him is perfectly sculpted. Especially that part. Soft and hard at the same time somehow. And the sheer size of it — makes you gulp air instinctively.
When your eyes finally meet again, there’s undeniable heat lingering there between both of you now.
Felix absolutely senses that too. Still, he says nothing. He keeps looking at you with that same confidence while stepping into the tub. The water shifts gently as he lowers himself in slowly across from you, careful not to send water spilling over the edge.
Then, he’s here. With you. Warm skin. Damp hair. Soft eyes fixed entirely on you.
Felix settles comfortably against the opposite side of the tub before lifting his gaze toward yours again. The smile he gives you immediately makes your stomach flutter. It’s loving, but definitely not innocent anymore.
You reach for your champagne glass first before lifting it slightly toward him and he mirrors the gesture automatically. The delicate clink of glass echoes softly through the steamy bathroom. Then both of you quietly sip your drinks while looking at each other over the rims of your glasses.
And with the look Felix gives you, you’re pretty sure you’re in trouble.
-
YOU: I think it’s wise to take things slow. But have you seen him? [Widens eyes] I genuinely can’t. And god knows how long it’s been since— [stops] [shyly covers face with both hands] [looks at the camera] You’re going to see some real action tonight [laughs]
-
Felix is trying very hard to stay calm. Very. Hard.
Which would probably be easier if you stopped looking at him like that. Or if you weren’t currently half-submerged in warm water looking soft and flushed and entirely too comfortable wrapped in steam and candlelight. Or if his entire love language wasn’t physical touch.
Because now that you’re finally here with him — real and tangible and within reach — keeping his hands to himself feels nearly impossible. So naturally, one of his hands slips under the water until his fingers gently find your leg, rubbing softly along the side of it.
The touch is absentminded at first. Affectionate. But the second you smile at the feeling, his chest warms instantly.
“I like how physical you are,” you murmur softly, toes rubbing at the inside of his thigh.
Felix grins immediately. “Yeah?”
You nod. “I can tell physical touch is your thing.”
A playful look flashes across his face. “Oh, I’m very physical.”
You chuckle warmly at that, shaking your head slightly like you already know exactly what kind of trouble he’s going to be.
His fingers continue gliding slowly along your leg before gently lifting your foot out of the water. He doesn’t hesitate, but leans down and presses a soft kiss against your ankle. The gesture feels strangely intimate, tender in a way that makes his chest ache unexpectedly.
He lowers your leg carefully back into the water afterward and continues rubbing the side of your shin.
“If you’re very physical,” you mutter, placing your champagne flute down on the edge of the tub. “Then why are you over there?”
His brain barely processes the question before you’re already moving toward him. Water shifts around both of you as you carefully crawl into his side of the tub, and he instinctively braces a hand against your waist to steady you.
Then unexpectedly, you turn around and settle yourself directly against him instead. Your back presses flush against his chest while warm water ripples around both your bodies.
Oh, no, this is dangerous. Very dangerous. Yet, his arms wrap around you automatically anyway like there was never any other option.
You tilt your head slightly toward him afterward, murmuring softly, “It’s so much better.”
Felix smiles, mostly because he’s trying very hard not to completely lose composure right now. So instead of letting his hands wander where he desperately wants them to, he settles them carefully against your stomach instead. His fingers rub slow absentminded circles against your skin while he tries to focus on literally anything else besides the feeling of your body pressed against his. Which is impossible because the slightest of movement makes him more aware of you. The warmth of your skin. The softness of your body against his chest. The heat slowly building between both of you that has absolutely nothing to do with the water temperature anymore.
You sink deeper into him comfortably, like you belong there. Then your hands settle over his.
And when you turn your head to look back at him, your eyes say everything without you needing to speak. Want. Curiosity. Invitation.
The look pulls him toward you instantly like gravity. Felix leans in without thinking and kisses you. The kiss feels different. Deeper and hungrier. Your lips part softly beneath his, and the second you kiss him back, something inside him unravels a little further.
Your fingers suddenly tighten around one of his hands, slowly guiding it upward and placing it on your breast. It amazes him that your soft mound perfectly fits his hand. Like it was made for him.
Instinct takes over immediately. His palm cups you gently while his thumb strokes your hardening bud under the water. A low moan escapes you into his mouth that nearly destroys whatever restraint he has left. He kisses you deeper instinctively, his mouth opening against yours while his fingers knead softly at your breast.
Your hand tightens around his wrist and when his tongue brushes against yours, you immediately meet him halfway, kissing him back with enough intensity to make his head spin.
Everything suddenly feels hot and dizzy and overwhelming all at once. Your lips crash against his again and again while water shifts around both your bodies with every movement. And somewhere in the middle of it, Felix realizes things are escalating very, very quickly.
-
FELIX: What was I supposed to do with that? [chuckles] It’s like fire meeting gasoline. Nothing can stop this kind of chemistry [mischievously grins]
-
Your mouth crashes against Felix’s again before either of you can properly think about slowing down. But to be honest, you can’t stop kissing him. Not when he kisses you so passionately, so hungrily and so affectionately all at once. Every time his mouth moves against yours, your body melts deeper into him automatically.
It feels dangerous how naturally the chemistry comes between you. Because yes, maybe you planned on taking things slow. Maybe you told yourself emotional intimacy mattered more. But right now, with Felix’s hand cupping your breast in the warm water while his mouth keeps finding yours over and over again—
You realize the physical attraction might actually be just as intense. If not worse. And from the way he touches you, kisses you, breathes against your mouth like he’s trying not to lose control entirely—
You know he feels it too.
Your lips part from his eventually, both of you breathing slightly heavier now. But the second you pull away, Felix immediately chases after another kiss. You laugh softly against his mouth at the eagerness. Still, you let him steal one more kiss before gently pulling away again just enough to murmur teasingly against his lips, “You said you’d follow my pace.”
Felix’s eyes darken immediately. A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “That’s right. Yeah,” he says, almost breathlessly.
You hold his gaze the entire time as your fingers slide down to take his free hand gently into yours. Then slowly, you guide it to where you want him the most, placing it on the heat between your legs.
The second you let go, Felix understands immediately. Your want, your need and he’s more than happy to comply. The sharp inhale he takes against your lips sends satisfaction curling warmly through your stomach.
Because now it’s your turn to watch him struggle as your own hand drifts lower next, finding his length easily under the water. Warm and hard already at your touch.
Felix exhales sharply the second your fingers wrap gently around him.
You smirk softly at the reaction before leaning close enough to murmur near his mouth, “Try to match my pace then.”
And with that, your hand starts moving and Felix’s head drops slightly against yours as a quiet groan escapes him immediately, restraint visibly cracking apart with every slow stroke of your hand on his cock.
-
YOU: I was just testing him [innocently smiles] To make sure he could follow my pace. [shamelessly smiles] And I must say… [bites lips] he was doing pretty well.
-
By the time the two of you finally leave the bathroom, steam still clings faintly to Felix’s skin while both of you remain wrapped in hotel bathrobes, damp hair messy from the shower and from each other’s hands.
You barely make it two steps into the bedroom before Felix grabs you again and immediately, instinctively, you cling to him. Your arms wrap around his shoulders while your legs hook around his waist without hesitation, laughter bursting out of you as he lifts you effortlessly into his arms. Warmth blooming inside his chest at how naturally you fit against him already.
He carries you toward the bed while your face presses briefly into his neck, both of you grinning helplessly like idiots in love. Then he drops you gently onto the mattress.
The second your body bounces against the soft bed, an excited shriek escapes you.
Felix bursts into laughter, completely smitten. “You’re too cute,” he says through his grin.
Then he climbs over you and another thrilled sound leaves you the second his body settles above yours.
Your legs immediately wrap around his waist again, pulling him down closer until there’s barely any space left between your bodies. Then your hands cup his face and tug him into another kiss.
And god, Felix could stay here forever. Just kissing you slowly while your bodies press together through thin layers of fabric, your fingers slipping into his damp hair while his hands settle against your waist possessively.
The chemistry between you feels almost overwhelming now that nothing is separating you anymore. Every kiss grows deeper. Every touch lingers longer. Every breath feels shared. And eventually, impatience wins.
Felix breaks the kiss only long enough to tug roughly at the belt of your robe. You laugh breathlessly against his mouth as the fabric loosens beneath his hands and the robe parts open completely beneath him.
Only then he pulls away. He takes a moment to properly admire you and your breathtaking body against the white bedsheets while warm bedside light traces every curve of exposed skin beneath him.
For a suspended second, Felix simply stares. His chest aches strangely with it. Not only in lust. There’s something else too. Something almost disbelieving.
Your eyes eventually meet his and beneath the want, the desire, Felix catches something else flickering briefly underneath it. Insecurity.
One of his hands rises gently to cup your jaw. His thumb brushes softly against your cheek while he looks directly into your eyes. And with complete sincerity and admiration laced every word, he murmurs softly, “How did I get so lucky?”
Your entire expression softens. Your lips curve into something small and soft. Almost shy.
And quietly, like you still can’t quite believe it yourself, you whisper back, “How did I get so lucky?”
Felix smiles at that. Because nothing feels better than hearing his feelings echo back to him. The certainty. The affection. The way you look at him like he’s something precious too. It makes his chest feel unbearably full.
So Felix leans down and kisses you again, slower. Like he’s trying to pour every overwhelming emotion he has for you into the kiss itself. And beneath him, you kiss him back exactly the same way.
-
FELIX: It honestly feels really nice finding someone who’s so compatible with me. Not just emotionally. [shyly smiles] But physically too. With her, everything just feels… right and easy. [smiles] I’m genuinely obsessed with her already.
-
You’re getting impatient again. Which honestly shouldn’t surprise you anymore. Because Felix keeps kissing you like he’s trying to ruin your ability to think properly, and every second spent with fabric between your bodies suddenly feels unbearable.
Your fingers quickly find the tie of his bathrobe, tugging at it with barely concealed urgency while he kisses you breathlessly above the white hotel sheets.
Felix laughs softly against your lips at your impatience. “Baby—”
“Need this off,” you mumble immediately, hands still working at the robe.
He warmly laughs at that and eventually, taking pity on you, he pulls back just enough to shrug the robe off completely himself. The sight of him bare beneath the soft golden bedroom light makes heat curl low in your stomach all over again.
God. He’s beautiful.
You instinctively part your legs wider for him as he settles himself between them again, still standing at the edge of the bed while leaning over you. His hands brace beside your head before his mouth finds yours again immediately.
You kiss him back just as eagerly while one of his hands slips lower between your thighs again, thumb circling softly on your clit that make your breathing uneven almost instantly. At the same time, your own hand wraps around him again, stroking him slowly while he softly groans into your mouth at the contact.
The tension between both of you climbs higher and higher with every kiss. Every tease of his fingers on your clit. Every pump of your hand on his cock. Every quiet sound swallowed between your mouths. Until eventually it feels impossible to deny what’s happening anymore.
Reluctantly, Felix finally pulls away from the kiss, forehead resting briefly against yours while both of you breathe unevenly. “Give me one second,” he murmurs softly against your lips.
You nod immediately despite the disappointed little sound threatening to leave you.
Felix softly laughs at your expression before pressing one quick kiss to your mouth and disappearing toward the bathroom.
The second he’s gone, you slowly sit up in bed. The bathrobe still hangs messily around your shoulders, barely clinging there anymore so you shrug it off completely and let it fall carelessly onto the mattress behind you.
You look up just as Felix returns holding a condom loosely in one hand while looking at you with an expression so soft it almost catches you off guard. Like he still can’t believe you’re real.
You smile slowly up at him before teasingly say, “I thought we were on a plan for baby number one out of seven.”
He breaks into laughter. “Already trying to trap me?”
“You proposed first,” you point out innocently.
Still smiling, Felix steps closer before gently catching your chin between his fingers. He leans down and kisses you softly. Then against your lips, he murmurs, “We’ve still got lots of time to plan all that.”
And somehow, hearing him talk about a future with you still makes your chest ache every single time.
“And for now, I want you just for me,” he murmurs, softly yet seductively.
Felix kisses you again afterward, slower this time, like he’s savoring the moment instead of rushing through it and you kiss him back just as softly. Because suddenly this feels intimate in a way that scares you a little. In the best possible way.
-
YOU: I absolutely understand the vision now [nods] [grins] I’m just saying [shrugs] I suddenly can’t wait to have all of his seven babies. [laughs]
-
Felix lets the kiss linger for another second before finally pulling back just enough to lift the condom between two fingers. But before he can finish, your hand gently wraps around his wrist as you take the foil packet from him with a soft smile.
“I’ll do it for you,” you murmur sweetly.
Felix immediately melts a little at that. Honestly, he would probably let you get away with almost anything when you use that tone on him. So without question, he hands it over.
But instead of opening it right away, you rise to sit on the edge of the bed and set it aside onto the mattress beside you. Then your hand wraps around his cock again.
His head immediately tips back slightly at the feeling of your soft, lithe fingers wrapped around his sensitive length.
You only smile in response before leaning forward, soft lips press little kisses against his stomach first. Then his left rib. Then his navel. Then lower. And lower. Every kiss feels teasingly unhurried, like you know exactly what you’re doing to him.
Felix forgets how to think altogether as he watches you with parted lips and increasingly uneven breathing while your mouth continues its trail of kisses down the length of his cock. The slow stroke you give him afterward nearly makes his knees buckle.
You smile before pressing another soft kiss on the tip and decide to tease him by landing a kitten lick just before you pull away completely.
“Are you trying to make me lose my mind?” Felix breathes out helplessly.
Instead of answering, you take him into your mouth. Just an inch but it’s enough to let him feel the soft, warm feeling of your mouth around him.
“Baby…” he hisses, eyes locked on the way your lips wrapped around him.
You giggle softly against him in response, and the vibration alone nearly destroys him. But then you begin to suck him and whatever thought he had immediately dissolves.
Felix’s hand instinctively finds your hair the second you guide it there yourself, fingers tangling into soft strands while you take more of him into your mouth and suck gently.
A sharp breath tears from his chest. “Oh fuck…”
The feeling of your mouth around him makes his head spin almost instantly. His fingers tighten in your hair a little too hard before he catches himself, breathlessly muttering apologies while you continue looking up at him through your lashes with entirely too much satisfaction glowing in your eyes.
“I’m actually going insane,” he says repeatedly under his breath, almost laughing from disbelief between breaths.
The smug little smile you give him around him only makes things worse. Eventually you pull away slowly, and Felix genuinely thinks he sees stars for a second.
Only then do you finally rip open the foil packet and this time, you carefully roll the condom onto him while he watches you with a softness that almost surprises himself. Because somehow even this feels intimate with you.
When you finish, you glance up proudly. “All done.”
Felix smiles helplessly before leaning down to kiss you immediately. “You did such a good job,” he murmurs warmly against your mouth.
Your smile against his lips nearly ruins him all over again and as the kiss deepens, he slowly lowers himself with you until both of you collapse gently back against the mattress together. His body presses fully against yours now, skin against skin. The weight of him makes you wrap your arms around him tighter instantly, fingers digging softly into the muscles of his back as if trying to pull him impossibly closer.
Felix kisses you slowly through every breath, every little sound, every shift of your body beneath him. And when he finally guides himself between your legs, he still takes his time. He rubs his cock between your folds in slow, teasing motions.
The feeling makes you whine softly into his mouth, your fingers tightening against his shoulders immediately.
When he glances down, his length is already coated in your essence so he pushes into you slowly. Just enough to make you sharply gasp against his lips. But instead of pulling away, your legs open wider for him instantly, silently encouraging him closer, deeper into you.
Felix groans softly at the feeling while carefully easing himself fully into you inch by inch until there’s no space left between your bodies at all.
The sensation nearly overwhelms him. The warmth. The tightness. The way your body welcomes him so perfectly it almost feels unreal. Then your legs wrap around his waist and the movement pushes him deeper still.
“Fuck,” Felix shakily breathes out against your cheek.
For a moment neither of you moves. You just stay there together breathing each other in while your bodies slowly adjust. Then your fingers brush gently through his damp hair, pushing strands away from his forehead while you look up at him softly.
“How do I feel?” you whisper.
Felix’s eyes close briefly. A helpless smile pulls across his face before he looks back at you again. “Exactly how I thought you would.”
You tilt your head curiously. “Meaning?”
Felix’s thumb strokes softly against your cheek. “Right,” he softly murmurs. “You feel… right.”
Your entire expression softens at that and then a playful little spark returns to your eyes almost immediately afterward. “And now,” you murmur sweetly, “let’s see if you can fuck me right.”
He laughs breathlessly against your mouth before confidently says, “Oh, I definitely can.”
And with that, Felix begins moving, slowly and steadily. Every thrust deep enough to make both of you feel each other intensely, completely.
Your fingers clutch tighter and tighter at him the longer it continues. One hand grasping desperately at the bedsheets while the other digs crescent-shaped marks into his shoulder. And oh, every little sound you make pushes him closer to losing himself completely.
The tension builds quickly between both of you after that. Too much sensation. Too much emotion tangled into every kiss and touch and in the way your bodies rubbing against each other. Until finally your whole body tightens beneath him all at once.
Felix feels the exact second pleasure crashes through you. You gasp sharply against his mouth while your body trembles around him, completely unraveling beneath the overwhelming intensity of it.
Felix holds you through it, kissing you tenderly, whispering little praises against your lips while you slowly come back down from your high.
“So good for me… so beautiful… coming for me like that…” he murmurs in between little kisses he places on the side of your face.
When your eyes finally open properly again, you look up at him with dazed eyes and completely wrecked affection. You grin as you playfully murmur, “The hell with it. Let’s have seven kids.”
-
FELIX: There’s absolutely no doubt the physical connection is just as strong as the emotional one. Maybe stronger [shyly smiles] And yeah… I’d say I was very right about my choice.
-
Morning arrives in warm sunlight and the distant sound of waves drifts faintly from outside the balcony doors.
For a moment, you don’t even remember where you are. Then you open your eyes fully and find Felix already looking at you. And instantly, warmth spreads through your chest.
He’s lying on his side beside you, hair messy from sleep, one arm tucked beneath the pillow while the other rests lazily around your waist. His expression softens immediately when he notices your eyes fluttering open.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispers quietly, voice impossibly deeper in the morning.
You shyly smile before snuggling closer to him instead of answering right away.
Felix immediately makes a soft sound of approval and opens his arms wider for you without hesitation. Like this is already routine for him.
Your cheek presses against his bare chest while sleep still lingers heavily behind your eyes.
The room is warm. Felix is warm. Everything feels safe in a way you’re still getting used to. And honestly, you could stay here forever.
As you close your eyes again to steal another few seconds of sleep, you feel Felix’s lips brush softly against your bare shoulder. Then another kiss trails lower along your arm. And another.
His arms tighten around you afterward, pulling you impossibly closer while he lets you drift there comfortably against him for another moment.
Eventually you finally lift your head slightly, peeking up at him through sleepy eyes. “Good morning,” you murmur softly this time.
Felix looks at you like your existence alone already made his entire day. “Good morning, baby.”
The tenderness in his voice makes your chest ache a little and then somehow both of you lean in at the exact same time. Your lips meet halfway naturally in a slow, almost lazy kiss. When he pulls away, it’s only to tilt his head before kissing you again and again. And again. Tiny affectionate kisses that make you softly giggle against his mouth.
“I could get used to this,” he mutters softly between kisses.
You smile at that and Felix kisses your smile too.
For a little while, neither of you says anything afterward. You just stay tangled together on the bed, staring at each other with soft sleepy affection that feels almost dizzying. Your fingers drift gently through his blond hair while his hand absentmindedly trails down your spine.
Neither of you can stop smiling and every time your eyes meet, another helpless grin appears like both of you are still stuck in a dream state. Then, as if he physically can’t help himself, Felix leans in again and gives you another long lingering kiss. One that leaves warmth buzzing softly through your entire body afterward.
When he finally pulls back this time, he brushes his nose gently against yours. “So, what do you want to do today?” he asks softly.
You hum thoughtfully for approximately one second before answering, “Stay here and lock you in this room with me.”
Felix bursts into deep, sleepy laughter. He’s pulling you even closer as he simply answers, “I’m down for that.”
You laugh too before wrapping an arm around his waist more tightly. “But we should probably go outside eventually.”
“Mmm,” he hums, too comfortable to even talk.
You trace lazy circles against his chest while thinking. “We could do a boat ride and maybe go swimming?” you suggest.
Felix presses a sweet kiss on your temple. “That sounds nice.”
But despite saying that, neither of you actually moves. Instead, you snuggle closer into him and he tightens his hold around you like he has no intention of letting go anytime soon either.
The two of you remain tangled together in bed while sunlight slowly fills the room brighter and brighter around you. Neither one of you ready to break the softness of the moment just yet.
-
YOU: Last night was… fun. [smiles] We definitely did some very deep [snorts] exploring of each other. Waking up next to him this morning felt really nice too. But yeah. The exploring part was also very nice. [giggles]
-
The boat cuts smoothly through the ocean while sunlight dances across the water in endless glittering waves.
Felix sits beside you near the back of the boat, one arm stretched comfortably along the seat behind you while the wind tousles both your hair every few seconds.
The farther the boat takes you from shore, the prettier everything becomes. Open sea. Endless blue sky. Warm sunlight spilling across your skin. And despite the breathtaking view around him, Felix keeps finding himself looking at you instead.
You’re currently rambling about how unreal the water color looks while squinting toward the horizon, your sunglasses perched slightly crooked on your nose from the wind.
Felix smiles helplessly to himself.
“What?” you ask immediately after catching him staring again.
“You’re just too cute.”
You snort at that. “I’m literally talking about water.”
“Exactly.”
Felix leans over immediately to steal a quick kiss while you’re distracted laughing.
You squeal softly into it, hand pushing weakly against his chest while he grins against your lips.
“Ugh, you’re so obsessed with me,” you say with feigned annoyance.
“I am,” he simply retorts.
The rest of the ride passes easily after that. Your hand resting absentmindedly over his thigh while Felix occasionally presses lazy kisses against your shoulder or cheek whenever the mood strikes him. He could get addicted to this frighteningly fast.
Eventually the boat slows near a beautiful open stretch of water far from the shore. The sea here looks impossibly clear beneath the sunlight. Once the captain announces it’s safe to swim, Felix immediately stands and starts peeling off layers of clothing. His t-shirt is the first to go and his shorts next, leaving only his black swim trunks behind.
You’re currently struggling beside him trying to pull your denim shorts off carefully without accidentally dragging your bikini bottoms down too.
“Need help?” he asks, already smiling.
Without waiting for your response, Felix gets behind you, hands at the ready one each side of you.
You softly chuckle at his eagerness in helping you. “Yes. Why not?”
Felix steps forward, closing the last few inches of gap between his chest and your back. His hands tugging at the waistband of your denim shorts while you hold the straps of your bikini bottom. His hands move carefully and affectionately, making sure not to accidentally tug the wrong thing down.
He crouches to help you get rid of the shorts completely. “There.”
You finally straighten afterward with triumph and turn toward him fully. “Thank you,” you sweetly mutter.
Felix genuinely forgets how to breathe for a second. Because seeing you in that pink bikini affects him even more than seeing you naked earlier. Maybe it’s the sunlight against your skin. Or the tiny smug smile on your face after successfully winning the battle against your shorts. Or maybe it’s simply you and this impossible attraction between you that only seems to grow stronger every hour he spends around you.
Whatever it is, Felix suddenly feels dangerously distracted again.
You catch the look on his face immediately too. “What?” you ask suspiciously.
Felix shakes his head once like he’s clearing it. “Just trying very hard to behave myself.”
You gently catch his chin in your hand and turn his face to the side, but somehow, his face turned back toward you again. And you laugh at that.
Felix reaches for your hand before leading you toward the edge of the boat together and the ocean stretches endlessly around both of you now. He glances toward you one last time. “Ready?”
You nod instantly.
And together, hand in hand, the two of you jump. Cold water crashes around Felix the second you hit the sea, laughter immediately bubbling out of both of you beneath the surface.
When he resurfaces, you’re already pushing wet hair away from your face while laughing breathlessly nearby. And god, he’s gone for you. Completely.
The next hour passes in easy happiness after that. Swimming beside each other. Splashing each other. You cling onto his shoulders at one point while Felix effortlessly keeps both of you afloat, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist while you laugh about absolutely nothing important.
Everything feels easy and natural. And Felix realizes somewhere in the middle of it that spending time with you like this might honestly be his favorite thing in the world already.
-
FELIX: I’ve only physically been with her for, like… three days. But it genuinely feels longer than that. We’re just really attuned to each other. [grins] And I know it sounds insane because this whole experiment moves so fast… [softly smiles] But I really do feel like I met the right person.
-
The sea breeze feels cooler now after swimming for so long under the sun.
You sit beside Felix at the back of the boat with a towel draped around your shoulders and another one spread beneath both of you over the seat. Your legs are tangled together lazily while the boat gently rocks against the water. A half-finished plate of fruit sits between you along with two cold drinks sweating under the afternoon heat.
Felix is currently talking about something the captain mentioned earlier, sunglasses pushed up into his damp blond hair while sunlight catches against the freckles scattered across his skin.
You can’t stop staring at him and eventually he catches you doing it too.
“What?” he asks with a grin.
You smile a little sheepishly. “You’re such a good swimmer.”
Felix brightens at the compliment. “Yeah?”
You nod. “You looked way too comfortable out there.”
He laughs softly before leaning back against the seat. “I used to swim a lot growing up in Australia.”
Your attention sharpens into curiosity. “With your family?”
Felix nods. “Yeah. We’d go to the beach all the time.”
The second he starts talking about them, you hear immediately hear the warmth in his voice. The affection. The ease. He talks about family memories so fondly, like love was always something freely given in his life.
Hearing it feels strangely foreign to you. Beautiful. But foreign. You quietly pick at a strawberry for a second before blurting out the thought that’s been lingering in your head since yesterday.
“You think I’ll fit in?”
Felix freezes, head tilted to the side. “Huh?”
“Your family,” you mumble sheepishly. “Do you think they’ll like me?”
His brows pull together in confusion.
You shrug lightly, trying to sound casual even though your stomach suddenly twists with nerves. “Because you know, I’m meeting them soon.”
Felix still looks genuinely confused. Almost offended on your behalf somehow. “Baby,” he says carefully, reaching for your hand immediately. “Why wouldn’t they like you?”
You avoid his eyes briefly. “I don’t know.”
The truth is, you do know. Because deep down, some part of you still expects rejection before acceptance. Still waits for the moment people decide you’re too much or not enough all at once.
His hand tightens gently around yours before he lifts it toward him. “I like you. A lot,” he pauses to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “And if I like you, I know my family will too.”
Before you can answer, he presses a soft kiss against your knuckles.
The gesture makes something warm ache inside your chest immediately. And even though the reassurance settles some of your nerves, it doesn’t erase them completely. Still, it helps.
Felix tilts his head slightly and then carefully, he asks, “What about your mom? Will she like me?”
You immediately let out a nervous laugh. “That’s actually terrifying to think about.”
Felix laughs too at first until he realizes that you’re not joking.
“I’ve never brought anyone to meet her before,” you admit and saying it aloud suddenly makes the reality of all this hit harder. The wedding. The families. The outside world waiting for both of you after this vacation ends. “I honestly don’t know how she’ll react.”
You glance toward Felix again and immediately notice the concern appearing across his face now too. Which naturally makes you want to tease him a little.
“My mom is very hard to impress, by the way.”
Felix looks at you for a second. Then without hesitation, he calmly says, “I’ll try my best to earn you.”
The sincerity in his voice catches you completely off guard. Not win her over. Not impress her. Earn you. Like loving you properly matters more than anything else.
Your chest aches so suddenly and intensely that you don’t even think before leaning in and kissing him.
Felix immediately kisses you back, one hand sliding gently against your jaw while the boat rocks quietly beneath both of you.
When you pull away, your forehead lingers against his. “You shouldn’t worry,” you murmur. “What’s not to like about you?”
Felix smiles at that. A small warm smile that makes him look almost shy despite everything. Then he leans in again and gives you another long lingering kiss while sunlight dances endlessly across the water around the two of you.
-
YOU: There’s still a lot to think about. A lot waiting for us after this. And honestly, it’s scary if I think too hard about it. [softly sighs] But for now… I just want to focus on him. On us. I kind of just want to enjoy this vacation with Felix while I still can. [smiles]
-
Felix is halfway through buttoning the cuffs of his shirt when production knocks on the hotel suite door.
A staff member pokes their head in with a bright smile. “Get dressed and head down to the beach in thirty minutes, please.”
And just like that they leave without further explanation or details. Which honestly unsettles Felix a little more than he wants to admit. Because usually, no information means surprise and surprise on reality television rarely means peace and relaxation. Still, as long as it has nothing to do with losing you somehow, he figures he can survive it.
Especially when he turns around and sees you stepping out of the bathroom.
“Wow.” It slips out before he can stop himself.
You laugh softly while smoothing your hands down the sides of your black dress. “Do I look… okay?” you nervously ask.
Felix just stares at you helplessly for another second. The dress hugs you perfectly, elegant and simple while your hair falls softly over your shoulders. And somehow you still look at him like he’s the pretty one in the relationship.
“Okay?” he asks in utter disbelief. “Baby, you look incredible.”
Your smile turns shy around the edges. “Thank you.”
Felix walks over, hands automatically finding your waist. Then he leans down and presses a careful kiss against your cheek as to not to ruin your makeup.
You smile warmly at the gesture before slipping your fingers through his hand and just like that, the nervousness settles a little because you’re here.
The two of you walk down the softly lit pathway together afterward, palm trees swaying gently in the evening breeze while distant music grows louder the closer you get to the beach. Eventually the path opens into a beautiful patio area set up near the sand and when he thinks you two are the first to get there, Felix notices a couple sitting together on one of the outdoor sofas.
Recognition hits almost immediately. “Shane?” Felix blurts out.
The man instantly breaks into a grin and stands up. “Felix!”
At the exact same time beside him, you let out a low surprised shriek after recognizing the woman sitting next to Shane too. “Oh my god.”
Everything suddenly clicks into place. Felix laughs warmly while pulling Shane into a quick friendly hug. Introductions happen immediately after that. You excitedly greet Shane’s fiancée, Laura, while everyone talks over each other at once, still processing the fact that these are actual faces attached to voices from the pods.
Soon, more couples begin arriving. More familiar voices. More shocked reactions. More introductions. And slowly it dawns on Felix exactly what this is. These are all the couples who made it out. Everyone who got engaged. Everyone currently vacationing in the same hotel just like you and him.
The realization feels surreal because just a week ago all of you were dating blindly through glowing walls and now everyone’s here holding hands with their future spouses in real life.
Eventually the chatter quiets when the female host finally enters the patio.
“Welcome to your vacation!” she begins with a bright, teeth-baring smile.
Everyone cheers and smiles and applauds and the host lets it settle before continue talking. “How’s your romantic getaway so far?”
There’s laughter immediately. A few teasing comments. Some very guilty-looking faces around the group. Felix and you look at each other at the same time and immediately burst into laughter.
“I'm sure you have recognized everyone in here,” the host continues, briefly looking at everyone before staring back at the camera. “But gentlemen, we want you to meet the ladies. And ladies, we want you to meet the gentlemen that you did not propose to.”
The host goes on, introducing each couple properly one by one, including you and Felix. She takes another moment of break before speaking again. “Congratulations to all of you on your engagements.”
The cheers erupt again and Felix tightens his hold on your hand as he looks at you. And it feels like a pinch-me moment still. You and him, engaged.
“You guys fell in love and chose somebody to marry you without ever seeing them. You've had no distractions, nothing to get in the way. Here you have the chance to develop your emotional connection into a physical one,” the host says with a soft smile lingering on her face.
But the smile dims a little and her tone turns serious when she talks again. “When you go back home, will the realities of the material world, your looks, your age, your background, affect the way you feel about each other? How are you guys going to integrate your lives? How is all of that going to come together with your fiancé?”
Felix feels your eyes on him even before he looks at you. He understands the wavering gaze, the way you tightly hold his hand on your lap, the fear that everything might change the moment you both step out of this bubble.
“Your wedding are just four weeks away,” the host reminds with a steady yet firm tone. “Will you say 'I do' to the person you chose to marry or will you walk away from them forever?”
She looks at the camera as she asks the one question that sums this whole experiment, “Is love truly blind?”
While Felix keeps nodding along politely and soothingly rubbing the back of your hand, internally he’s having a tiny crisis. Because suddenly this feels very real again. He’s going to marry you soon.
Still, the host eventually lifts her glass with a smile and offers a toast. “To love and happiness and to all of you enjoy this moment!”
Everyone lifts their glasses as well before finally taking a sip and the host tells everyone to enjoy the rest of their vacation before leaving the patio.
For a few seconds afterward, everyone just kind of sits there processing. Until suddenly Jim stands up dramatically, grabs a bottle of liquor from the table, and announces, “Alright, everyone. Let’s get this party started.”
Instantly everyone bursts into cheers and laughter. And just like that, the party started.
-
FELIX: It was honestly really nice finally seeing everybody outside the pods. And everyone here is very attractive [chuckles] But it is weird now realizing we’re all technically getting married… after dating each other first. [laughs] Reality TV is insane.
-
The patio grows louder as the night gets late. Music drifts through the beachside space while drinks keep appearing in people’s hands and conversations overlap from every corner of the party.
The second you spot Morgan across the patio, you nearly spill your drink trying to get to her. “Morgan!”
She turns around instantly and lets out a scream just as dramatic as yours before practically launching herself at you.
The two of you immediately crash into a hug. Then another one. And somehow another after that too.
“Oh my god, I missed you,” Morgan groans dramatically into your shoulder.
“I missed you too!” You pull away only slightly before grabbing her hands again like you need to confirm she’s real. It feels oddly emotional seeing everyone again outside the pods. Especially the girls you spent every single day with.
Morgan squeezes your hands warmly. “It feels weird without Daria though,” she says softly.
“I know,” you sadly mutter, a little ache settles in your chest at the thought of it. “She’s literally the sweetest person ever.”
Morgan nods immediately. “Seriously. I can’t believe she didn’t end up with anyone.”
You sigh softly before taking another sip of your drink.
Then suddenly Morgan’s entire expression brightens mischievously. “But can we talk about your man?”
You immediately laugh. “What about Felix?”
Morgan leans closer dramatically. “He is not what I expected him to look like.”
That makes you laugh even harder. “What were you expecting exactly?”
“I don’t know!” Morgan bursts out laughing too. “Like… some huge muscular guy with a thick beard.”
You nearly choke on your drink laughing. “A thick beard?”
“Yes!”
“Oh my god.”
The two of you dissolve into louder laughter together while nearby people glance over curiously. “I thought the same thing at first,” you admit eventually while wiping tears from your eyes.
“Right?!” Morgan says triumphantly.
“But he’s actually a very gentle person,” you continue softer now, unable to stop smiling when you talk about him.
Morgan immediately melts. “Awww.”
“And we’ve been getting to know each other better and…” You shrug shyly. “So far he’s very much my dream man.”
Morgan immediately narrows her eyes teasingly. “So far?”
You burst into laughter again.
“No no no,” she says dramatically. “What do you mean so far?”
You shake your head while laughing. “I don’t know. He’s just… He’s too good to be true.”
Morgan’s expression softens immediately afterward. She reaches over and squeezes your arm gently. “I think you guys deserve each other. And I’m really happy for you,” she sweetly says.
Your chest warms instantly at the sincerity in her voice. Before you can answer, Morgan pulls you into another hug anyway and you happily let her.
When you finally pull apart again, you lift your drink toward her. “To finally winning the battle over Jim?” you tease.
Morgan snorts into her drink before clinking her glass against yours. “To hot fiancés.”
You snort loudly. “Yes. That too.”
The party continues afterward, everyone slowly mixing together more comfortably now that the initial shock has worn off.
At one point you end up chatting with Jim near the table full of snacks. He looks exactly how you imagined he would. Messy hair. Tattoos. That careless confidence dripping from him naturally. Though admittedly… He’s smaller and shorter than you expected. Which immediately becomes too funny not to mention.
“You know,” you say casually while sipping your drink, “the women’s lounge literally ran out of wine because of you.”
Jim bursts into loud laughter immediately. “I’m not sorry,” he jokingly says.
You laugh before lightly nudging his shoulder. “Well. Thank you for choosing my best girl.”
Jim immediately grins. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”
You clink your glass with him and take a small sip.
Once Jim swallowed his drink, he looks at you and casually asks, “How’re things with Felix?”
Your smile appears automatically. “We’ve been really good.”
And just hearing yourself say it out loud makes warmth spread through you again.
Jim nods knowingly and laughs to himself before speaking. “You know, when Felix talked about you back in the men’s lounge, that man did not hesitate about you for even a second.”
Your chest tightens, a soft smile pulls at your lips at that.
Jim takes another sip of his drink before continuing. “Honestly, I kind of figured he’d be the first one engaged.”
That makes you laugh. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Jim points toward Felix across the patio where he’s currently laughing with Shane. “One pod date and that guy was gone for you.”
The affection in Jim’s tone catches you off guard a little. “And I’m genuinely happy it’s you he ended up with,” he adds sincerely.
You smile softly at that and then immediately ruin the emotional moment on purpose. “I’m just relieved I didn’t have to deal with your drama in the women’s lounge for longer.”
Jim immediately doubles over laughing. “Okay, fair enough.”
“You had those girls fighting for their lives.”
“I’m charming. What can I say?”
“Menace.”
Jim cracks up again while you laugh along with him and somewhere across the patio, Felix catches your eye. The second he sees you smiling, his own expression softens too. Like he’s automatically drawn toward you even from across the room.
And your stomach still flips a little every single time.
-
YOU: It was honestly really nice seeing the girls again and finally putting faces to the voices from the pods. I must admit that some of them are pretty hot [giggles] but like… whatever [dramatically rolls eyes] [laughs] I already got the best one anyway.
-
Felix ends up gathered near the bar with most of the guys while everyone slowly settles into easy conversation now that the initial awkwardness has disappeared.
Rob is currently leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, looking way too entertained already. “So,” he says, eyes narrowing mischievously at everyone. “How’s everybody been behaving?”
Immediately the group erupts into laughter because absolutely nobody believes anyone here has been behaving.
Jim lifts his glass casually. “I stayed up until four last night.”
The boys immediately explode.
“No way.”
“Brother.”
“Four in the morning?!”
Jim only shrugs innocently while trying and failing not to laugh at everyone’s reactions.
Felix is already grinning into his drink when Stefan suddenly groans dramatically beside them.
“I accidentally pulled my back yesterday.”
The entire group immediately starts yelling over each other.
“Nooooo.”
“Stefan!”
“Already?!”
Stefan points defensively at everyone while laughing. “It was from the luggage!”
Nobody believes him for even half a second. The guys howl even louder afterward while Stefan collapses into embarrassed laughter himself.
Felix wisely decides to stay quiet during all this. Because if he keeps his head down long enough maybe nobody will ask him anything. Unfortunately, that strategy lasts approximately ten seconds. Then suddenly everyone turns toward him together.
“What about you, Felix?”
“Oh yeah.”
“You’ve been suspiciously quiet.”
Felix exhales through his nose while trying not to smile too hard already. “I mean… we agreed not to rush things just because we’re engaged.”
A few of the boys nod approvingly.
Felix continues smoothly, pretending he doesn’t notice everyone leaning in now. “And I told her I’d move at her pace.”
Rob immediately elbows Felix hard in the side. “Just tell us already, man.”
The entire group bursts out laughing instantly.
Felix finally cracks too, dropping his head while grinning helplessly. “Okay, listen,” he says through laughter. “I just didn’t know she was apparently an F1 racer.”
The boys immediately lose their minds again.
“And now?” Jim asks dramatically.
Felix shakes his head with mock exhaustion. “Now I’m struggling to keep up with the pace she set.”
The reaction afterward is a genuine delight. Half the guys double over laughing while Jim nearly spills his drink all over himself.
“THAT’S MY BOY!” Jim yells dramatically before throwing an arm around Felix’s shoulders.
“You look very happy for someone suffering,” Shane points out.
“That’s because he likes it,” Rob immediately says.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Felix admits shamelessly.
The group howls again. Then Jim lifts his glass high into the center of the circle. “To Felix surviving his fiancée.”
Everyone cheers loudly before bringing their drinks together for one giant toast beneath the beach lights.
And despite all the teasing, Felix can’t stop smiling afterward.
-
FELIX: I think what we have is more than just sex. She’s genuinely become my best friend really fast. We talk about everything. We laugh all the time. Being around her just feels easy. But also, there’s a difference between sex being good… [slyly grins] and sex being so fucking fantastic.
-
By the time you and Felix stumble back into the hotel suite, both of you are warm from alcohol and laughter and hours spent socializing.
The second the door shuts behind you, Felix lets out a dramatic groan. “Oh my god.”
You barely manage to hold in your laughter before he drops backward onto the bed face-first, arms spread out dramatically across the mattress. “I shouldn’t have drank that much,” he mutters into the sheets before rolling over to lay on his back.
You shake your head fondly before climbing onto the mattress beside him. Well, not exactly beside him. On top of him.
You straddle his waist easily while Felix immediately makes a soft sound beneath you, his hands instinctively finding your hips. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the alcohol, blond hair messy from the humid beach air and too many hands running through it tonight. And when he looks up at you with those slightly dazed eyes, your stomach flips embarrassingly fast.
God. You really like this man. Your hands settle against his chest while absentmindedly playing with the buttons of his shirt.
Felix watches you quietly beneath half-lidded eyes, thumbs rubbing lazy circles against your thighs.
“Since you finally saw all the girls tonight…”
“Mhm?”
“Did anyone catch your attention?”
His grin immediately widens. “Why? Are you jealous?”
You genuinely pause to think about it for a second. Then honestly answer, “No. Not really.”
Felix bursts into soft laughter beneath you.
You shrug lightly and confidently say, “I know what I bring to the table.”
“That you do,” he murmurs immediately, expression softens as he looks up at you again.
“If you’re asking whether I want to make seven kids with anybody else though…” He shakes his head once. “No. I only want them with you.”
The way he says it playfully and sincerely at the same time makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Felix slides his hands higher along your waist and gently pulls you down closer to him until your faces are only inches apart. Then he kisses you. Softly yet passionately.
You kiss him back instinctively while his hands settle comfortably against the small of your back. When you finally pull away, you stay hovering close enough that your noses still brush together every few seconds.
One of your hands drifts upward to cup his jaw gently and notice the way his eyes stay fixed on your mouth. “Are you trying to get lucky tonight, mister?” you murmur teasingly.
Felix slyly smiles at you. “I’m already lucky.”
His arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer against him. “I’m engaged to you.”
You scoff immediately even though your heart does another stupid flip again from hearing it. “You’re good,” you mutter.
“Yeah?”
“Mmh. So good.”
Then you crash your lips against his again before he can get smug about it.
-
YOU: I know I said that a few of them are attractive. But I genuinely can’t imagine feeling the same level of physical attraction I have with Felix with anyone else. There’s just… [seductively smiles] A lot of chemistry there. Like. A dangerous amount, actually.
-
The hotel room is dim except for the warm bedside lights casting gold across your naked form, and every bouncing movement of you on top of him pulls another shaky breath from him.
There’s heat in his gaze, unmistakably so, but something softer lives there too. Affection and admiration. The kind that squeezes on your chest whenever he looks at you too long.
His hands roam across your body slowly, reverently, like he’s memorizing every inch of you through touch alone. Up your waist. Along your sides. His palms eventually meet the softness of your breasts. Every touch of his fingers over your hardening nipples draws a reaction from you, another breathless laugh or soft sound that only makes him smile wider beneath you.
“How would I turn away from this, mmh?” he murmurs, voice rough with awe more than anything else. “When you look this good. Fucking me this good, mmh?”
You only grin knowingly at him before continuing to move against him in slow teasing motions that make his head fall back against the pillow briefly.
“Baby,” he groans quietly, laughing under his breath afterward like he’s already losing his mind a little.
Felix keeps his eyes on you. No matter how much watching you rolling your hips back and forth, clenching around him and quivering in places, tirelessly chasing your high — have him tethering on the edge. He holds back as much as he can.
Not long after, he watches the exact moment the pleasure taking over your body. The way your eyes screwed shut, head falls to the back, the way you let out a stifled scream and how he finds it cute and sexy at the same time. Oh, he’s down bad.
The smile is permanently etched on his face at this point as he gently runs his hand between your breasts and rests it there, feeling the way your heart beating fast under the layer of flesh and bones.
“How come you’re so cute coming around me like that?” he teases.
You giggle at that, completely unapologetic and land a gentle slap on his chest. “Shut up!” you say rather affectionately.
He lets you relish the high as he indulges himself in touching you, noticing that you’re much more sensitive now under his touch. He gently pinches on your nipple and you lewdly moan in reaction.
When your eyes are on him again, he can see that the desire burn brighter now as you begin moving again, moving your hips back and forth, ever so slowly that it surprises him once more how tightly you’re wrapped around him.
“We’re going straight to next round, I see,” he teases with his deep, rough voice.
You smirk and nod. “Touch me, baby,” you whine, needily.
Felix is more than happy to comply. He squeezes on the flesh of your waist before gliding them up to your chest, kneading on your breasts. One hand stray upward, meeting your mouth. He swipes his thumb across your lips before jamming it into your mouth and you immediately suck on it.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he absentmindedly mutters, eyes wide and heavy with lust.
You smirk with your lips wrapped around his thumb and keep smirking when he pulls it out. With his thumb now coated with your saliva, he uses it to tease on your erected nipple, rubbing over it in circular motions.
“Fuck, baby,” he mutters breathlessly in so much awe. “So fucking hot. So fucking perfect for me.”
He feels you clenching from his words and that’s it, his self-control begins to slip away. He moves his hand to your shoulder and then pulls you down. You immediately melt against him while his arms wrap tightly around your waist, holding you close enough that there’s barely space left between your bodies anymore. Then he kisses you deeply again, warm and lingering, like he’s trying to pour every feeling he has for you into it.
When he breaks the kiss, he looks at you with this dazed little smile. “How am I supposed to behave,” he mutters absentmindedly, “when you look this good?”
You smile at that, hands sliding into his hair while his settle firmly on your hips as he starts bucking from under you, meeting your thrust halfway. And every now and then, he just can’t stop himself from kissing you again in slow and messy kiss. The kind that keep turning into soft laughter halfway through because neither of you can stop smiling.
Eventually the sex turns intensely intimate, like it’s more than just physical fulfilment now. It’s him and you, bonding and connecting in a way that is never done before. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Felix looks at you with sincerity shining through the desire clouded his eyes.
“I love you,” he whispers quietly and the words still hit him hard every single time. Because of how real they are. So real that it scares him a little sometimes.
You brush your thumb gently across his cheek before whispering it back without the slightest hesitation this time. “I love you too.”
Felix smiles like hearing those words from you might honestly become his favorite thing in the world. He pulls you closer after that until you’re practically folded into his chest while both of you laugh softly into another kiss while continue moving in sync and not stopping until the two of you are falling apart around each other.
-
FELIX: Told you [mischievously smiles] The sex is fucking fantastic.
-
Waking up tangled together in bed and kiss Felix first thing in the morning is already starting to feel normal in the most dangerous way possible. At the same time, he keeps reaching for your hand absentmindedly, keeps kissing your shoulder while walking past you, keeps looking at you like he still can’t believe you chose him.
The strange thing is it doesn’t feel strange at all. It feels like the two of you have been around each other for years instead of days.
And today, the production team set up a cooking session for the two of you so Felix can showcase his skill and teach you. And in the process, they get the footage the need for the show.
The two of you are standing side-by-side in an open kitchen studio overlooking the ocean which sounds romantic in theory. In practice, however, you’re holding a knife like this is the first time you ever do so.
Felix notices immediately and asks, “You okay there?”
You narrow your eyes at the cutting board dramatically. “I suddenly forgot how cooking works.”
He laughs softly beside you and the sound sends a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You’re doing fine.”
“No, I’m not,” you honestly share. “I’m nervous because this is your area of expertise
Felix shakes his head before stepping closer behind you. “It’s not a competition, baby.”
His arms slide gently around you as he carefully adjusts your grip on the knife. “Okay,” he softly murmurs patiently near your ear. “Curl your fingers in a little more so you don’t cut yourself.”
You obediently follow his instructions while trying very hard not to get distracted by how warm his chest feels against your back.
“There you go,” he praises softly almost immediately.
You glance over your shoulder suspiciously. “You praise me for everything.”
“Because you’re cute.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It helps me.”
You snort while Felix grins shamelessly behind you. Despite your nerves earlier, the entire cooking session becomes easy after that because Felix never once makes you feel stupid. Never takes over. Never acts like you should already know things. He just patiently guides you through everything, gently correcting you when needed and celebrating every tiny success in gentle affection. He makes you feel safe and comfortable and you actually find yourself enjoying it. A lot.
Felix beams proudly after you successfully dump the ingredients into the pan without spilling anything.
“That’s my girl,” he says proudly.
Eventually the dish is finished, plated nicely enough that you almost feel suspicious about it. You immediately shove the spoon toward Felix first. “I give you the honor to be the first to test it.”
His eyebrows lift. “Why? You don’t trust yourself?”
“I trust myself less than I trust you.”
Felix laughs again before taking the spoon from your hand and tasting the dish thoughtfully.
You stare at him anxiously the entire time.
“Well?”
He keeps chewing slowly on purpose now, clearly enjoying your suffering.
“Felix.”
His lips twitch.
“Now, don’t go Gordon Ramsay on me.”
He bursts into laughter while still trying to finish chewing, shoulders shaking beside you.
“First of all, rude,” he laughs breathlessly.
“So it’s bad?”
“No!” He points at the food dramatically. “It’s actually really good.”
You squint suspiciously at him. “Be honest. Don’t be biased.”
“I am being honest!”
Still unconvinced, you grab another spoon and taste it yourself. And he’s right, it’s actually good.
Felix immediately slides an arm around your waist and pulls you against his side while watching your reaction proudly. “See? I’m being honest,” he says smugly.
You slowly nod while taking another bite. “We did a good job.”
Felix grins brightly. “We did.”
Then he looks down at you with that unbearably warm expression again. “You’re amazing.”
Your chest tightens a little and it’s not because the compliment is huge. But because he says things like that so easily. Like loving you is the simplest thing in the world.
You smile softly up at him and say it back to him, “You’re amazing.”
Without thinking much about it, you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug. Felix melts into it instantly, hugging you back tightly enough that giggles spill out of you.
When you pull away slightly, you look up at him, fingers lightly smoothing the fabric of his white linen shirt. “I really mean it, you know. You’re amazing.”
Felix’s widen as he playfully says, “And I really meant it too.”
“You’re amazing because you never made me feel like loving me is difficult,” you share sincerely, heart tightening as you let your vulnerability shows. “And you never seem scared to show how much you care.”
For a second, he only looks at you and then slowly, a smile blooms on his small face. The kind that feels warm all the way down to your bones.
“Well, it honestly isn’t that hard,” he murmurs softly. “And I really do love you.”
And hearing it still makes your heart stumble every single time.
-
YOU: It’s really nice being with someone who isn’t scared of showing his feelings. [softly smiles] And I know reality’s going to hit us soon. [sighs] We’re going to go back home eventually. Meet families. Merge our lives together. Deal with actual real-world problems. But I just… I hope we stay like this. I hope none of that changes who we are with each other.
-
The hotel bar is booked by the production team for the last group gathering of the vacation.
Felix keeps your hand locked with his the entire walk there like yours is an extra limb of him. The second the two of you step inside, Jim loudly points toward them from across the room.
“There’s the honeymoon couple.”
Felix immediately laughs while you groan beside him. “Oh my god. We’re never escaping this nickname.”
“Nope,” Morgan says brightly while handing you a drink.
Soon enough everyone gathers together near the center of the bar, drinks already in hand while production encourages everyone closer for a group toast. The atmosphere feels completely different now compared to the first night at the beach party. Like everyone finally settled into the reality that they’re all actually engaged now.
Rob raises his glass dramatically first. “To somehow surviving this experiment.”
“And to surviving Jim,” Shane adds immediately.
The entire group erupts into laughter while Jim protests loudly.
Felix grins before lifting his own drink too. “To love being blind.”
Everyone cheers after that, glasses clinking together in a messy chorus before the night properly begins. Afterward people naturally split off into smaller conversations scattered around the bar.
At one point Felix finds himself leaning comfortably against the counter beside Rob and Sonya while you stay tucked warmly against his side, your arm looped through his.
Sonya is in the middle of telling a ridiculous story from the pods while Rob keeps interrupting dramatically every thirty seconds. “You did not say that.”
“I absolutely did.”
You’re laughing so hard beside Felix that you nearly spill your drink, and without even thinking about it he reaches over to steady the glass in your hand before kissing your temple absentmindedly. The motion feels automatic now and apparently everyone else feels the same with their partners because no one even reacts to the affection anymore.
Across the room Jim has Morgan tucked practically into his lap while Shane keeps stealing kisses from Laura in between conversations.
At some point Felix catches himself looking around the room quietly. All these people. All these relationships that somehow came from talking through a wall. It’s kind of amazing and unbelievably, it worked for him too.
“I just can’t seem to fit the face to the voice,” Sonya says, laughing to herself as she looks at Felix in utter confusion.
You gently place your hand on her forearm and say, “I know right?”
“Like… did you expect this,” Sonya says, hands gesturing at Felix as she talks to you. “…When you said yes?”
You snort and briefly glance at Felix, “Honestly, no,” you jokingly say, feigning serious expression. “I felt like I got catfished a little.”
Felix stares at you in disbelief, shaking his head and then holds the side of your face. “No, baby. You expected this,” he says, the tone soft and coaxing. “I’m your prince charming, remember?”
Your expression softens instantly afterward, lips pulling into a wide grin. “Yes, you are.”
Then, because you’re slightly tipsy and affectionate tonight, you lean up and kiss him right there in the middle of your sentence.
Rob immediately groans dramatically beside them. “Yeah, okay, alright.”
“Get a room,” Sonya says while laughing.
Felix only grins against your mouth before kissing you once more anyway just to annoy them further.
-
FELIX: I’m kind of sad to get back to the real world. I want to. I’m excited to introduce her to family and friends. To be a part my life, but… I kind of don’t want to go home either [laughs] I like our bubble. I want to keep her to myself and not share her. [laughs] Yet.
-
You end up on one of the vacant sofas near in one corner of the bar with Laura, both of you finally taking a breather from the noise and energy of the party.
Felix is across the bar now with Jim and Shane, already laughing at something loudly enough that you can hear it over the music.
You smile into your drink at the familiar sound and Laura notices immediately. “Oh, you’re so in love,” she teases.
You snort softly before taking another sip, not having anything to say to either deny or confirm. Your happy face shows everything.
Laura tucks one leg beneath herself on the sofa before asking, “So… how’s it really been with you and Felix?”
You think about it for a second and honestly answer, “It’s been great.”
You glance toward Felix again briefly before continuing. “I think what shocked me the most is how… in sync we are.”
Laura nods slowly while listening. “Like emotionally?”
“Emotionally, physically, personality-wise…” you shrug lightly but a small smile tugging at your lips. “Everything just kinda fits.”
Laura hums thoughtfully before taking another sip of her drink. Then suddenly her expression turns mischievous. “You know everyone’s betting you two are the success story of the season, right?”
Your laughter escapes immediately. “Oh my god.”
“It’s true!”
You shake your head while grinning into your glass. “Well,” you say playfully, “let’s hope so.”
Laura watches you for a second like she’s genuinely happy seeing how relaxed you look talking about either Felix or the relationship. Then casually she asks, “So how’s the physical attraction?”
You nearly choke on your drink because it’s so sudden.
Laura bursts into laughter immediately while you cough dramatically into your hand. “I need details!” she laughs.
You shake your head while recovering but your cheeks heat anyway. “I mean… we agreed to take things slow.”
Laura lifts an eyebrow knowingly. “And?”
“And then things just…” you gesture vaguely. “…heated up eventually.”
Laura laughs into her glass. “That’s really cute.”
You smile before nudging her leg lightly with yours. “What about you and Shane?”
Laura’s expression dims just slightly while she looks down at her drink. “It’s…” she exhales quietly. “I’m still figuring things out.”
You stay quiet, letting her continue if she wants to.
“The Shane I knew in the pods…” she pauses thoughtfully. “And physically being with Shane now— I’m still trying to make those two versions connect in my head.”
You nod slowly. You kind of understand what she actually means. Because from everything you saw in the women’s lounge, Laura had a hard time letting go of Jim after he chose Morgan instead.
So carefully, teasingly enough not to make it heavy, you ask, “What, are you attracted to somebody else?”
A beat later, you playfully add, “Jim, perhaps?”
Laura immediately laughs into her drink. “Oh my god.”
“So that’s a yes.”
She shakes her head but still smiles afterward. Then honestly, she answers, “Yeah. Jim is probably more my type physically.”
You already guessed that and maybe that’s what this whole thing is really testing. Reality versus expectation. Fantasy versus what’s actually in front of you.
So gently, you tell her, “Laura, I’m sure you said yes to Shane for a reason and I think you just got to focus on that, on building your relationship with him.”
Laura nods and then takes a small sip of her drink.
“I think you should go on your own pace. Not to rush things and you know, talk and communicate your feelings. I think that’s very important,” you say with utmost cautiousness, not wanting to sound like you’re preaching.
Laura nods slowly afterward, thoughtful now. “You’re right.”
You’re just about to take another sip of your drink when suddenly a warm hand settles on your shoulder. You already know it’s Felix before you even look up.
“Are you two talking about me?” he asks, one brow raises higher than the other.
You tilt your head innocently. “Why? Is your ear burning?”
Felix immediately laughs while Laura points accusingly at you. “Yes. She’s obsessed with you and can’t stop talking about you.”
“Oh really?” Felix asks smugly while dropping down beside you on the sofa.
You groan while he automatically slides an arm around your waist anyway and without effort, conversation picks right back up again. Like the three of you have known each other for far longer than a couple of weeks.
The party continues around you while Felix absentmindedly rubs slow circles against your waist the entire time he talks.
And god, you kind of wish this night never had to end.
-
YOU: I feel really lucky because the moment Felix and I got together… [softly smiles] Everything just kind of fell into place. I honestly don’t want this vacation to end. Like… at all. [laughs] I think we should all just stay here forever. No responsibilities. No stress. Just the beach and the sun and kissing my fiancée twenty-four seven. [grins]
-
Long after the party ends and the hotel quiets down, Felix finds himself wide awake beside you. Maybe it’s because tomorrow means leaving this strange little paradise behind. Or maybe it’s simply because every time he looks at you, he feels too much all at once to sleep properly.
Whatever it is, he’s not surprised when you suddenly lift your head from his chest and whisper, “Want to try the pool before we leave?”
Felix immediately smiles. “Yeah. Sure.”
Which is exactly how the two of you end up sneaking through the quiet hotel hallway in the middle of the night trying not to laugh too loudly.
The resort is mostly asleep now, the pathways lit only by dim golden lamps and moonlight reflecting off the water nearby that somehow makes everything feel even more intimate. Like the entire place belongs only to the two of you for a little while longer.
By the time you reach the swimming pool, Felix lets out a soft breath of relief seeing it completely empty.
The pool glows blue beneath the night sky, water shimmering softly under the lights beneath it. Without much thought, Felix pulls his shirt over his head first before tossing it onto one of the loungers nearby. Then he immediately turns toward you, catching you unbuttoning your shirt.
You already know the look on his face “I can take it off myself,” you say with an amused tone.
“I know,” Felix replies easily. “But I want to do it.”
Your expression melts immediately into that smile he’s quickly becoming addicted to. So you let him.
He gets behind you, slipping his arms under yours, hands reaching to the front of your shirt. Slowly, carefully, his fingers working open the buttons one by one before taking it off from your shoulders. Like he enjoys even the smallest acts of taking care of you.
Once he’s done, he quickly folds your shirt before placing it beside his own on the lounger. Then he steps into the pool first, hissing softly at the cold water until it reaches his knees. Afterward he turns and holds a hand out toward you.
Without hesitation, you take it and let him guides you into the water, one hand steady against your waist while you step down into the pool beside him.
“Cold,” you whisper shakily.
Felix warmly laughs at that. “I’ll make you warm,” he teasingly says.
Slowly the two of you drift toward the edge of the pool until your back presses against the cool tiled wall. Felix settles between your legs naturally, chest pressed against yours.
And goodness, you look beautiful like this with your hair slightly damp, eyes soft under the pale moonlight, skin glowing blue from the water around you.
Felix stares a little too long before softly murmurs, “You’re so beautiful.”
A smile blooms on your face and before he can stop himself, he leans forward and steals a quick kiss from you just because he can. Then his hands settle comfortably at your waist while the two of you sway lazily together to the slow rift of water.
For a little while neither of you says anything. Just listening to the quiet of the night around you.
Then Felix sighs softly, “I can’t believe vacation’s already over.”
Your lips curl into a dramatic pout. “No.”
Your arms slide around his shoulders, pulling you even closer to you. “Let’s just stay here forever.”
Felix smiles against your jaw before pressing a light kiss there. “I’m down for that.”
Then another kiss on your lips, a slow, lingering kiss that leaves warmth spreading through his chest afterward and he wishes — God, he wishes — that maybe real life can wait a little longer.
-
FELIX: If I could stay in this vacation forever with her… I would. [grins] Unfortunately that’s not how life works. [wistfully sighs] We’re going to go home soon. Real life’s going to happen. But I have faith in us. In what we’ve built together. [smiles] I think we’ll figure it out alright. [nods]
-
The water laps softly around the two of you as you stay tangled together near the edge of the pool. Your legs are wrapped around Felix’s waist under the water now, arms looped loosely around his shoulders while his hands rest securely against your thighs.
The night feels impossibly quiet. There’s only sound of water, your breathing and his. And being this close to him feels dangerous sometimes. Because the closer you get to Felix, the more terrifying it becomes to imagine losing this.
Your fingers drift lazily through the damp hair at the nape of his neck while he watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, completely relaxed beneath your touch.
He really is beautiful. Even more up close. The bluish pool light catches the freckles dusted across his cheeks and nose, and without thinking about it much, you lift your hand and gently begin tracing them with your fingertip.
Felix smiles immediately. “What’re you doing?” he asks softly.
“Connecting the dots.”
He chuckles quietly while letting you continue. Then your finger pauses beneath his eye where the tiny heart-shaped freckle sits. You lean in and press a soft kiss there.
Felix’s smile widens instantly afterward, so fond it almost makes your chest hurt. For a moment he only looks at you quietly and softly, he asks, “Is there anything that makes you nervous about living together?”
The question settles between you and so far, living with Felix has felt weirdly easy. Of course there are a few things about him that don’t align with you, but it’s nothing that you can’t tolerate. No moments where you suddenly realized you couldn’t coexist together.
So you answer honestly and shake your head lightly. “Not really.”
Felix’s expression softens a little at that, but then you continue, a little too honest. “I think what makes me nervous is us going back to reality.”
And that’s putting it lightly. Because the truth is you’ve been dreading it since the moment the final day of vacation started.
You glance away briefly before continuing. “When we go home…” Your fingers absentmindedly smooth against the back of his neck. “We’re both going to be busy. And I know you work crazy hours sometimes. We probably won’t get to see each other as much as we want.”
The thought alone makes something heavy settle in your chest. “And I just…” you sigh softly. “I don’t want us to lose this.”
Immediately Felix’s hands tighten slightly against you reassuringly. “We’ll just have to be intentional about it. Like… proper time management. Putting work down when we need to.”
You nod in agreement. “Yeah.”
Felix brushes away a strand of hair to the side of your face. “We have to make an actual ‘us time’.”
His thumb tenderly caresses your cheek as he adds. “No matter how busy things get. We have to make time for us.”
You nod slowly at that and somehow hearing him say it so confidently eases something inside you a little. Before another thought settles, he leans forward and kisses you, lingering enough that your head quiet down for a moment.
When he finally pulls away, his forehead stays resting against yours while both of you breathe the same cool night air. And then softly, almost like he’s admitting something fragile, he murmurs, “My life is so much better with you in it.”
Your chest aches immediately. The good kind of ache. And you’re sure it comes from being loved too gently. Too sincerely.
Then, Felix softly whispers, “I appreciate you.”
And god, nobody has ever loved you this loudly before. So you kiss him first this time and then whisper it against his lips. “I appreciate you.”
And Felix smiles into the kiss like hearing that from you means everything.
-
YOU: Throughout the whole experiment, we had no phones. No internet. No distractions. My entire focus was just… Felix. And when we go home, there’s going to be work and people and responsibilities. [softly exhales] So yeah, that worries me a little. I think my biggest concern right now is whether he’s actually going to say ‘I do’ at the altar. [nervously chuckles] If he says no? I’d be very shocked. I’m going to be… very disappointed. And very devastated. [sadly smiles]
-
✨ LOVE IS BLIND: PART THREE is available on Patreon ✨
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𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙀::After months of endless teasing, Jeongin finally lets go of his restraint. In a heated night alone in the dorm, the usually shy maknae discovers a deep, possessive hunger within himself. For the first time, he takes full control — claiming you with rough passion, strong hands around your throat, and an overwhelming need to mark and fill you until you’re completely his.
𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎::First Time Dom (Jeongin) • Possessive Behavior • Choking / Hand around Throat • Rough Sex • Multiple Creampies • Breeding Kink • Overstimulation • Dirty Talk • Marking (Hickeys & Bites) • Mating Press
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀::2k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ╰ Jeongin x reader
𖦹𝗔/𝗻::At this point, I probably have around 15 fic drafts waiting to be posted 😭 I like to plan everything out before I actually start writing, so I'll be posting and writing them little by little
The same goes for requests. I might take a while, but I promise I'll write them 🤍
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The dorm was quiet, the other members long gone for a late-night schedule that Jeongin had conveniently avoided. You had been teasing him for weeks — light touches, whispered provocations, wearing short skirts around him just to watch his ears turn red. But tonight something had shifted. The moment you stepped into his room, Jeongin’s eyes were darker, hungrier. The shy maknae was gone. In his place stood someone discovering a side of himself he had been suppressing for too long.
He closed the door behind you with a soft click and immediately pressed you against it, taller frame caging you in. His hands gripped your waist possessively as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that started slow but quickly turned desperate. His tongue pushed into your mouth, exploring with a new kind of urgency, like he was claiming something that had always belonged to him.
“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, voice lower and rougher than usual. “Always teasing me… smiling like you know exactly what you do to me.”
His hands slid under your shirt, palms hot against your bare skin as he pushed the fabric up and over your head. He tossed it aside carelessly, eyes dropping to your breasts with open hunger. Jeongin had always been gentle, almost hesitant in the past. Not tonight. He cupped one breast firmly, squeezing it as his thumb brushed over your nipple until it hardened. He leaned down and took it into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make you gasp, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.
You moaned softly, fingers threading through his dark hair. He switched to the other breast, biting lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue. His free hand trailed down your stomach and slipped under your skirt, fingers pressing against your panties.
“Already so wet,” he whispered, almost in awe. “All for me?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Jeongin dropped to his knees, pulling your skirt and panties down in one motion. He spread your thighs wider, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. His breath ghosted over your pussy before he leaned in, dragging his tongue slowly from your entrance up to your clit. The first taste made him groan deeply.
“Fuck… you taste so good,” he breathed.
Jeongin ate you out with growing confidence, his inexperience showing in the eager, slightly messy way he licked and sucked, but the hunger made it intoxicating. He focused on your clit, sucking it into his mouth while two long fingers pushed inside you, curling immediately to find that spot that made your knees weak. He pumped them faster, tongue working relentlessly as your moans filled the room.
Your hand tightened in his hair, hips rolling against his face. He looked up at you, eyes dark and intense, lips glistening with your arousal.
“Don’t hold back,” he said, voice commanding for the first time. “I want to hear you.”
He added a third finger, stretching you open as he sucked harder on your clit. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers were obscene. Pleasure built fast and intense, your thighs starting to tremble around his head. Just when you were about to cum, Jeongin pulled back, fingers still buried deep inside you but unmoving.
“Not yet,” he said softly, a possessive glint in his eyes. He stood up, towering over you again, and wrapped one large hand gently around your throat. Not squeezing hard, just enough to hold you in place, to make you feel owned. Your pulse raced under his palm.
Jeongin kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue while his fingers slowly pumped in and out of your soaked pussy. He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.
“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” he confessed, voice husky. “About taking you. About making you mine. Tonight I’m not holding back.”
He removed his fingers and brought them to your lips. You obediently sucked them clean, eyes locked on his. Jeongin watched with dark fascination, his cock straining painfully against his sweatpants.
He stepped back just enough to pull his shirt off, revealing his toned chest and abs. Then he pushed his pants down, freeing his long, thick cock. It was flushed dark at the tip and already leaking. He stroked himself slowly, eyes never leaving yours.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered quietly, that new dominant tone sending heat straight to your core. “On your back. Legs spread.”
You obeyed, lying down on his bed as he climbed over you. Jeongin settled between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing your clit before pressing just the tip inside you.
He leaned down, hand returning to your throat as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open around his considerable size. A broken groan escaped his lips when he bottomed out, hips flush against yours.
“Fuck… so tight,” he whispered, voice trembling with restraint and need. “You feel perfect.”
He stayed still for a moment, savoring the feeling, before starting to move — slow, deep thrusts that made you feel every inch. His hand remained around your neck, thumb stroking your jaw tenderly even as his hips began to pick up speed.
Jeongin’s eyes were locked on your face, watching every reaction, every moan, like he was memorizing how to ruin you perfectly. His free hand gripped your hip, pulling you into each thrust as he started fucking you harder, discovering the pleasure of control.
“This is just the beginning,” he breathed against your lips, voice sweet but possessive. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think about anyone else but me.”
His thrusts grew more intense, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room as he gave in completely to the new hunger raging inside him
Jeongin’s hips snapped forward with increasing force, driving his thick cock deep into your dripping pussy. The stretch was intense, his length filling every inch of you as he bottomed out with each thrust. His hand stayed wrapped around your throat, not choking, but firm enough to keep you pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy.
“Fuck… you’re so tight around me,” he groaned, voice rough and breathless. His dark eyes were locked on your face, watching every flicker of pleasure as he fucked you harder. “I can feel you squeezing my cock. You like this, don’t you? Like me finally taking what’s mine.”
You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back as he pounded into you. The wet, filthy sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass echoed through the room with every brutal thrust. Jeongin leaned down, capturing your mouth in a messy, desperate kiss, his tongue fucking your mouth in the same rhythm as his cock destroyed your pussy.
He pulled back slightly, adjusting his angle so the head of his cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot with every deep stroke. Your breasts bounced wildly under him and he couldn’t resist — he ducked his head and latched onto one nipple, sucking hard while his free hand kneaded the other roughly.
“So fucking pretty,” he mumbled against your skin, teeth grazing your nipple before sucking again. “These tits are mine too. Everything is mine tonight.”
Jeongin’s pace became almost feral. He released your throat only to grab both of your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand as he drove into you even deeper. The new position made you feel completely helpless under him, and the possessiveness in his eyes sent fresh waves of arousal through your body.
“Look at me,” he demanded, voice low and commanding. “I want to see your face when I ruin this pussy.”
He fucked you with long, powerful strokes, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, the head of his cock kissing your cervix each time. Your juices coated his entire length, dripping down to his balls and soaking the sheets beneath you. The wet squelching sounds were obscene, mixing with your loud moans and his deep groans.
Jeongin suddenly pulled out, making you whimper at the emptiness. He flipped you onto your stomach effortlessly, yanking your hips up so you were on your knees, ass raised high. Without warning, he slammed back inside you from behind, the new angle making him feel even bigger.
“Shit— so deep like this,” he growled, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks while the other reached around to rub your swollen clit in fast circles. He was fucking you mercilessly now, hips snapping against your ass with loud slaps, his cock stretching your walls perfectly.
You cried out, pushing back against him desperately. Jeongin leaned over your back, his chest pressed against you as he bit down on your shoulder, sucking a dark mark into your skin.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this for so long,” he confessed between heavy breaths, voice trembling with raw hunger. “Wanted to hear you scream my name while I fill you up. You’re going to take every drop tonight.”
His fingers moved faster on your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles while his thick cock continued destroying your pussy. You were shaking, thighs trembling violently as your orgasm built dangerously fast.
“Jeongin— fuck, I’m gonna cum—” you moaned, voice breaking.
“Cum on my cock,” he ordered, voice dark and possessive. “Let me feel you milk me.”
Your orgasm crashed over you hard. Your pussy clenched violently around his thrusting length, juices gushing out around his cock as you screamed his name. Jeongin groaned loudly at the feeling, fucking you through your orgasm without slowing down, prolonging the intense pleasure until you were sobbing into the mattress.
He didn’t stop.
Even as you trembled from oversensitivity, Jeongin kept pounding into you, chasing his own release. He pulled your hair gently, making you arch your back as he railed you from behind.
“You feel too good,” he panted, voice strained. “I don’t want to pull out. I want to cum so deep inside you… want to fill this pretty pussy until it’s dripping with me.”
His thrusts became erratic, desperate, his heavy cock throbbing inside your sensitive walls. He reached around again, rubbing your oversensitive clit, forcing another wave of pleasure through your exhausted body.
“Jeongin— please—” you whimpered, tears of overwhelming pleasure pricking your eyes.
With a deep, guttural groan, Jeongin buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, pulse after pulse as he kept grinding deep inside you, making sure every drop stayed buried as far as possible. His body shook against yours, low moans spilling from his lips as he emptied himself completely.
Even after he finished, he stayed inside you, cock still twitching with aftershocks. He collapsed carefully over your back, pressing soft kisses along your spine while his hand gently stroked your side.
“You did so good for me,” he whispered tenderly, though his voice still carried that new dominant edge. “But I’m nowhere near done with you tonight.”
He slowly pulled out, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum leaked from your abused pussy. Jeongin flipped you onto your back again, spreading your legs wide as he leaned down to kiss you deeply, already growing hard once more against your thigh.
The night had only just begun.
Jeongin’s breathing was still ragged as he stared down at the mess he had made between your legs. His thick cum slowly leaked from your swollen pussy, dripping down onto the sheets. The sight seemed to awaken something even darker inside him. His cock, which had barely softened, was already hardening again, twitching against your thigh as he leaned over you.
“You look so fucking good filled with my cum,” he whispered, voice husky and possessive. He ran two fingers through the leaking mess and pushed them back inside you, making you gasp at the oversensitivity. “But I’m not done. I need more. I need to fuck you again.”
He kissed you deeply, slow and hungry, his tongue claiming your mouth while his fingers lazily pumped in and out of your cum-filled pussy. The wet, squelching sounds were filthy and loud. Jeongin groaned into the kiss, clearly turned on by the evidence of his own release still inside you.
He broke the kiss and flipped you onto your back again, spreading your legs wide apart. This time he didn’t tease. He lined up his cock and slammed into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You cried out, back arching sharply as he stretched your already sensitive walls.
“Jeongin— fuck!” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders.
He didn’t give you time to adjust. Jeongin started fucking you with deep, powerful strokes, his hips snapping forward relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the entire room as he drove into you harder than before. His hand returned to your throat, holding you in place while he pounded your pussy.
“You’re mine now,” he growled, eyes dark with newfound hunger. “This pussy is mine. I’m going to fill you up again and again until you can’t walk tomorrow.”
He leaned down, sucking hard on your breasts, leaving fresh marks across your soft skin as his cock continued destroying you. Every thrust was deliberate and deep, the head of his cock hitting your cervix with punishing force. Your juices mixed with his previous load, making everything slick and messy, coating his balls and dripping down your ass.
Jeongin suddenly pulled out and manhandled you onto your hands and knees. He gripped your hips tightly and slammed back inside, the new angle making him feel impossibly deeper. He fucked you like an animal — fast, rough, and desperate — his heavy balls slapping against your clit with every thrust.
“Arch your back more,” he ordered, voice commanding. You obeyed, pressing your chest into the mattress and pushing your ass higher. Jeongin groaned at the sight, one hand coming down to smack your ass sharply before squeezing the soft flesh.
“Such a good girl for me,” he praised, voice sweet yet dominant. “Taking my cock so well even after I already filled you.”
He reached around and rubbed your clit in fast circles, never slowing his brutal pace. Your second orgasm hit you like a wave, pussy clenching violently around his thick length as you screamed his name into the pillow. Jeongin moaned loudly at the feeling, fucking you through it without mercy.
He pulled out again, breathing hard, and lay on his back beside you. “Ride me. I want to see you bouncing on my cock.”
You straddled him eagerly, legs shaking. Jeongin gripped your hips and guided you down onto his length. The stretch was intense as you sank all the way down, his cum from earlier making the slide easier. Once he was fully inside, you started moving — rolling your hips before bouncing on his cock.
Jeongin’s head fell back, eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he watched your breasts bounce with every movement. He reached up, grabbing them roughly, pinching and tugging your nipples while thrusting up to meet you.
“Faster, baby. Ride me harder,” he demanded, voice breaking with pleasure.
You obeyed, bouncing faster, the wet sounds of your pussy taking his cock echoing obscenely. Jeongin suddenly sat up, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other hand returned to your throat. He kissed you messily, tongues sliding together as he fucked up into you with powerful strokes.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned against your lips. “So warm… so tight… I’m never pulling out again.”
He flipped you again, this time pressing your legs up against your chest in a mating press. The position made him sink even deeper. Jeongin fucked you with everything he had — long, punishing strokes that left you sobbing in pleasure. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto your chest as he railed you mercilessly.
“I’m gonna cum again,” he panted, eyes locked on yours. “Want to fill you one more time. Please let me breed this pretty pussy.”
His words, combined with the brutal pace, sent you over the edge again. You came hard, squirting around his cock as your walls spasmed wildly. Jeongin groaned deeply, burying himself as far as possible before he came with a broken moan. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy once more, pulse after pulse as he kept grinding deep inside you, making sure it stayed buried.
Even after finishing, he stayed inside you, collapsing on top of your body while still buried to the hilt. His lips found yours in a slow, tender kiss — a contrast to the roughness from moments before.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered against your mouth, gently stroking your hair. “I didn’t know I could feel like this… so possessive. So addicted.”
He slowly pulled out, watching with dark fascination as his cum leaked from your abused, puffy pussy. Jeongin gathered some on his fingers and brought them to your lips. You sucked them clean obediently, making him groan softly.
“We’re not done,” he murmured, already hardening again against your thigh. “I still want more. I want to fuck you in the shower next… then again on the floor… until the sun comes up.”
He kissed you deeply once more, hands roaming your body with a mix of possession and care. The shy boy who had hesitated before was completely gone. In his place was someone who had discovered exactly how much he loved dominating you — and how much he needed to keep claiming you over and over again.
The night stretched on, filled with moans, filthy promises, and the sound of bodies colliding as Jeongin explored every new hungry instinct he had been hiding
13:58 | Rant to me, I like the sound // I like your voice, I like your mouth
Han Jisung x Fem!Reader • Word count: 1.7k
Content warnings: smut, established relationship, voice kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, idol-verse but barely mentioned
Author’s note: hai hai! okay this will be my last animanga turned skz fic ㅋㅋ requests are open <3
Jisung sighs as he walks into his hotel room. He smiles slightly at the intricate folding of the blanket left by the cleaning staff. He takes his phone out, snapping a picture before sending it to you. Tours you couldn't attend were hard for him; for someone who was once so put off by relationships he had come to find himself rather insatiable when it came to you. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh at one of his shitty jokes, how you always know he’s had a bad day when he’s just walked through the door, your pretty pretty voice and the way it cradles his name so gently when he has you pressed into the sheets of your shared bed.
His phone pings, bringing him out of his thoughts. Wide grin on his face when he sees you’ve messaged him back.
— auuughhh so cute >o<
He smiles at the message, sitting on the edge of the mattress before responding.
— Not as cute as you, baby.
Another one right after.
— Miss you
He waits patiently for a response when he sees you’ve read it; frowning as the minutes tick past and you don’t say anything. He shakes off the feeling, stepping into the bathroom to shower as he waits for you. A low groan leaves him as the ache from his day is washed down the drain, hand scrubbing at his hair before he’s pulled from the moment by his phone going off.
Jisung would be— should be embarrassed by how quickly he gets out after that, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Rinsing the soap from his skin before drying off quickly. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, towel slung low on his waist as he picks his phone up from where it was resting on the bedside table.
— are you back at the hotel?
— Yeah, just got done showering. Did you wanna call?
— perfect
— maybe later
He frowns at this, an anxious feeling building creeping in his belly at how you brush him off. Just as he goes to type what was probably (definitely) a message a tad too desperate; his phone pings again.
— put your earbuds in
— attachment: one voice memo
Jisung chuckles, shaking off his earlier insecurities. He loves how well you know him; that he’d rather hear your voice telling him about your day than read your messages. He gets up from the bed, grabbing his earbuds before settling into the mattress. It’s softer than the one you share; but somehow still not as comfortable without you resting next to him. He presses play, a smile already on his face.
“Hi, baby.”
He stiffens at the tone, breath hitches as he listens to you shuffle around.
“I miss you so much, you know,” you sigh into the microphone, “it’s just not the same without you here.”
His cock stiffens at the sultry sound of your voice, mind racing.
“I want you to do what I say, okay, baby?”
His head falls back into the pillows, a low groan leaving his lips. He nods despite the fact that you can’t see him. Fist clenching as his cock twitches in anticipation.
“I bet you’re hard already, aren’t you?” You tease, “You’re so easy, baby. I love that about you. Love knowing you can get off just from my voice.”
There’s more shuffling on the other side before he hears a familiar sound; a whine followed by the slick sound of your cunt.
“Take your cock out,” you instruct.
Jisung quickly yanks his towel open, squeezing at the base of his cock.
“Spit on it, baby. Just like I would.”
A loud moan falls from his lips, precum leaking steadily out of his reddened tip before he follows your instruction. Stroking himself slowly to lubricate himself.
“Want you to tease the tip, can you do that? I know how much you like when I do that, handsome. When I put my lips around it to taste you.”
Jisung nods, large hand palming over his cock. His hips buck up into the touch; pleasure searing through his veins so harshly he’s not sure if he’ll last. He thinks about you looking up at him; the way you smile as you trace the tip of his cock with your tongue before sliding him into your mouth.
“Does that feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” he moans, whines slipping steadily past parted lips, “fuck— so good.”
“I miss you so much,” you whine, and— fuck, Jisung can hear the way your fingers pick up their pace. The wet sounds of you fucking yourself open while you whimper.
“Miss everything about you,” your voice is breathy now; an air of desperation slipping off your tongue, “miss feeling your fingers inside me. The way they— oh! The way they fuck me open.”
All restraint is lost on Jisung at this, fist fucking quickly onto his cock as he hears the way you’re falling apart for him. Lust boiling in his belly over the fact that he has you like this; even miles apart.
“Miss your tongue,” you must’ve adjusted the phone closer to your cunt; because the wet sounds of your fingers take over the speakers.
He pictures you on the bed you share, head thrown back as you desperately rut into your too small fingers. Jisung thinks about coming home to you; your legs over his shoulders while he licks the mess between your thighs. The way your hands grip his hair when his nose presses against your clit while he fucks you with his tongue.
“But, Jisung.”
Fuck; you’re not playing fair. The sound of his name falling from your lips has him calling your own out loudly; hips bucking up to meet the thrusts of his hand as he imagines you on top of him. The way your tits bounce in his face. How whiny you get when he takes your nipple into his mouth. The coy look you give him when your legs are too tired, how your pretty eyes roll back when he tucks his legs up to pound up into you.
“Jisung!” You cry out, “Miss your cock the most. The way you stuff me full; when you make me take it over and over until I’m— fuck! I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m—
Jisung falls apart with you; moaning unabashedly as rope after rope of cum falls onto his heaving abdomen. He whines your name; picturing your smile; your laugh; your—
“Jisung ,” you sigh; satiated, “wish I was there to lick the cum off of your stomach.”
His cock twitches where it rests on his abdomen; and he huffs out a laugh at the pout in your voice.
“I love you,” you sigh, “come home soon.”
“I love you too,” he whispers into the silence of the room.
He picks his phone up from where he’d tossed it to the side earlier, gripping his cock once more before taking a picture. Laughing to himself when your contact photo comes up as you call.
“Hi, princess.”
— !! do not translate/copy/repost/feed into ai !! —
Synopsis: What happens when you meet your bias from your Ult k-pop group? For the unprepared Y/N, she has that exact opportunity after her new friend gets sick and she calls the friend's boyfriend to come take care of her. Her friend has always been private about her relationship. When Y/N shows up at her friend's apartment after calling him for help, it all becomes clear.
Chaos. That was the only way to ever describe things when it came to the guys. There were four upcoming fashion engagements, plus their upcoming festival. Everything that had happened in Japan seemed to have blown over. Speculation in online spaces had died down as well. There were some other things going on behind the scenes as well though. Decisions being made. Ones that I knew were weighing on Seungmin.
I was so busy trying to figure out a plan between Chan, Minho, Felix, and Jeongin all had engagements with their brands in the same week. Figuring where I should be was made a little easier because of some factors. Stella was going to make the trip with Chan, which normally wouldn’t change my plans. But I figured with the baby coming they didn’t want me trailing along in any down time. Minho’s was the shortest, it didn’t make sense. Kat also traveled with him. When I was still trying to figure it out between Felix and Jeongin, Felix had approached me. He was sort of my top priority because of how many brands he was working with. Sometimes it almost felt like I was more his manager. Not that was a complaint in any way, I truly enjoyed what I was doing. Though I was keeping an eye on something else in relation to the guys. In the end it was decided I would go with Jeongin. I hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know him outside of group hangouts and most of his events had been domestic so far.
While I was getting ready for that trip Seungmin had gone to the doctor’s and the decisions were finally made. Though word wasn’t going to be released for another week. Which meant after we got back. I knew that Seungmin was upset, but the fact that his ankle wasn’t healing the way it needed to… it was the right decision. They had been making adjustments but then it had been called. The medical team didn’t want him on the long haul flights.
“This sucks,” He sighed sitting on the bed as I packed. He’d just gotten home with the news. “We were preparing for this to be a possibility, but I should be there.”
“Seungmin, if they made this call you know they had good reason.” I knew I wasn’t saying anything that he didn’t already know.
“They’re worried the long flight could cause other problems,” He explained.
“We knew this was a possibility.” I reminded him. It was something we had talked about at length over the past couple of weeks. I walked over to him, he rested his hands on my hips and leaned forward. I ran my fingers through his hair. “Look at it this way. With how much time I’m traveling, and you will be on tour later this year… This gives us a chance at some time just the two of us.” I smiled.
He seemed to relax at this realization. Painting a positive light on an otherwise upsetting situation.
My trip with Jeongin wasn’t going to be a long one, just a few days. A bit longer than Minho’s trip to Japan though for his engagement. It gave me a bit of time to get to know the maknae a bit more.
“Are you excited about Minta’s move?” I asked as we were on our way from the airport to the hotel.
Jeongin looked up from his phone and nodded. “I hope she can be settled before our other festival and the tour.”
“She won’t be alone, Innie. When you’re gone, I mean.” I smiled at him.
“I know, but it’s such a big move and the timing of everything…” He trailed off.
“Hey, we’re all navigating it. If you think about it… its going to be a first for most of us. Kat was on tour but not with the guys… Bunny is the only one who was really involved at the time.”
“Mmm… Mochi and I were talking, but only as friends. She had all these crazy theories of what I did for work to be traveling as much as I was at the time.” He smiled.
Watching the way he smiled when talking about her, he lit up. “Can i ask you something?”
Jeongin nodded.
“Where did the nicknames come from? She calls you Fox whenever she talks about you and you just called her Mochi.”
“Oh, our usernames.” He said then showed me the chat they’d talked on. ShyFox28 and MintyMochi13. “We didn’t share our real names or pictures. We only chatted on here and voice chat. I figured out who she was because her visit lined up with everything Stella was saying with her cousin visiting. I figured it out. I almost screwed it all up though.” He went on to tell me about what had happened in the elevator when it had gotten stuck.
I had heard tidbits of the story, but hearing him tell it… It was like when Changbin talked about meeting Bunny.
“I’m glad you found one another.” I smiled.
The trip with Jeongin had been a quick one, easy even. I knew the guys had their final preparations because they were leaving in two weeks to go to the states for the festival. Our flight happened to arrive in Korea close to Chan’s, so we were surprised by Chan and Stella at the airport. While the two guys walked together, interacting, and I am sure feeding content that would end up online, I walked with Stella. She seemed a little uncomfortable, but didn’t comment on it.
I was so glad to be home. With all the guys back home, the announcement about Seungmin staying back from the festival was due to go out. Despite our conversations about it all, I knew he was still beating himself up, as if any of this was his fault. It wasn’t, of course. There was also the concern of how fans might react. I believed that most would be concerned about him, but there would always be some that would make stupid posts.
After the news went out, I made a conscious effort to stay off my phone for the night. Of the two of us in the relationship, I was the one who was chronically online. Seungmin joked at times that I made a good replacement for Felix in knowing what was going on online.
That night Seungmin was sitting on the end of the bed. As I walked by, he caught my hand and pulled me over to him. I stood in front of him, he didn’t have to say anything. I felt it in the way he gently pulled me and saw it in his eyes.
“Do you need a distraction?” I asked, already feeling a shiver as he ran his hands down my sides.
“Yes.”
I moved to sit in his lap, I was still in my dress from the day and the skirt rode up as I did. His gaze flickered down, one hand finding my thigh. I shivered again and he smirked. One thing Seungmin could not deny was enjoying the way I reacted to even the slightest touch from him.
*Pairing: idol!Jimin x f!hair stylist!reader
*Word Count: 5k
*Posted: may 27, 2026
*Genre: SMUT, tiny bit of fluff, mainly pwp, idol au
*Summary: You always make Jimin feel good about himself when you do his hair for every performance. Tonight, he's extra confident. So, he finally goes for what he wants. And what he wants, is you.
*Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, MINORS DNI. bit of a power imbalance considering reader's job, tiny bit of alcohol consumption, oral (f. receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex (be smart, ya perverts), jimin likes his hair pulled, jimin = consent king, switch!jimin (you'll see), getting caught (ish?), bit of angst/anxiety at the end, reader's brain is mush, some pet names, jimin calls reader noona (just go with it, it's for the vibes), uhhh yeah
*A/N: welp. braided-hair jimin has had me in a chokehold since i saw him like this with my own eyeballs on saturday night. and it just got me thinking.. maybe he likes his hair pulled. i dunno. here's the product of my brainrot. enjoy it.
Main Masterlist
“Braids.”
Jimin looks at you like you have two heads.
“Why braids, noona?” he asks curiously.
You pull out your hair styling tools and arrange everything on the tabletop in front of him, threading your fingers through his hair as you think about your vision.
“Your hair’s the perfect length for them. We have time. Can you just trust me for now, and if you hate them, I’ll take them out?” you ask.
Jimin huffs out a small laugh, his eyes sparkling as he smiles.
“Alright. Go for it,” he concedes, settling into the chair more comfortably.
With that, you get to work. Your fingers work nimbly, sectioning and crossing strand over strand, tying each braid with small rubber bands as you go.
At the end of twenty minutes, Jimin’s hair is styled into four small french braids across the top and sides of his head, the bottom layers of his hair loose around his shoulders. You tap his shoulder, signaling to him that you’re finished.
“What do you think?” you ask him, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
He turns his head left and right to look at his hair, nibbling on his bottom lip, as if gathering his thoughts before he gives you an answer.
“Damn, okay. When you said ‘braids,’ this isn’t what I thought you meant. I love it, noona,” he says, giving you that signature, eye-crinkling smile.
“Yeah?” you ask, exhaling a breath of relief at his approval.
Jimin nods excitedly. “Yeah.”
You release him from your work station then, cleaning up your hair tools now that your job is done.
During each outfit change of the concert, you check on Jimin’s hair, securing and restyling braids as they come loose, ensuring his hair stays as neat as possible.
He sits perfectly still, always the cooperative client, as you redo a single braid that’s now falling into his face.
“Pretty hyped tonight, huh?” you ask with a soft laugh.
He starts to nod, his head tipping forward, causing him to let out a quiet hiss as he accidentally tugs at the braid in your hand, a sharp sting coursing through his scalp.
“Sorry–”
“Shit–”
You both speak at the same time, your hand instinctively releasing the braid.
“You okay?” you ask him then.
Jimin can’t help but chuckle then.
“All good, noona. Can you fix my hair now?”
You just smile, going back to redoing the braid you were working on.
There’s a minute of silence between you two, the chaos of backstage fading as everyone starts to take their places to go back on stage for the last part of the concert.
“I am hyped tonight,” Jimin says then, answering your question that was so rudely interrupted by you pulling his hair, “I’m really feeling myself tonight.”
You smile at him in the mirror as you finish fixing his hair.
“Good. See you after,” you say with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders, stepping back to let him go.
Jimin stands from your chair, glancing around before he leans in, his breath ghosting your ear.
“I’d rather be feeling you, though,” he murmurs, and he turns to go back on stage without so much as another glance your way.
-
The absolute whirlwind that is backstage post-concert is nothing you aren’t used to. Even as a hair stylist, you, and everyone else, are expected to help with the cleanup to make sure the dressing and styling rooms are left impeccably clean. That is BTS’ reputation, after all: the perfect guests at every stadium or venue they perform at, leaving nothing dirty or disorganized when they leave for the night. It’s something the whole staff has always prided themselves on, ensuring the group maintains their perfect image, ever the respectable idols.
As you pack your things and head toward the staff buses with everyone else, Jimin falls into step beside you at the back of the group.
“Come celebrate with me,” he murmurs quietly.
You glance at him, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Celebrate what?” you ask him.
He shrugs.
“Told you. I’m really feeling myself tonight. Come have a drink with me.”
Your voice lowers, not wanting anyone to hear the conversation.
“Jimin.. you sure that’s a good idea?”
He shrugs again, his hands in his jeans pocket.
“No one has to find out, noona. C’mon, it’s just me. I’ll have some champagne delivered to my room and we can hang there. No pressure.”
You can’t help but sigh slightly then.
“Yeah– okay. But if anyone finds out…”
Jimin holds out his pinky finger then, automatically moving to intertwine his finger with yours.
“They won’t. It’s perfectly safe.”
He falls out of step with you then, disappearing down the long hallway to your right, catching up with the other members while you continue walking toward the staff buses.
-
Back at the hotel, you change out of your staff clothes, then rummage through the casual clothes you brought with you for this leg of the tour. You aren’t sure if Jimin’s actually going to follow through with inviting you to hang out, and you really don’t know how casual to dress if he does.
Your phone vibrates, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Jimin: room 3903.
That’s it? you think, expecting more in his message than just telling you where to go.
Jimin: i’m in sweats. don’t worry about how to dress, noona.
Typical, you think, always knows.
You pull on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, an oversized hoodie over it, and slip on your sneakers. Grabbing your phone and room key, you slip out of your room and move quickly down the hall.
The members and staff have this entire floor booked, the tour having so many people working to keep it flowing flawlessly that you always take up a whole floor in every city you go to. You really hope no one leaves their room while you’re out here, because you don’t have a clue what your excuse would be at this point.
Your eyes track each room as you pass, wandering down the hall until you reach Jimin’s room. Your knuckles tap softly on the door, shifting from one foot to the other as you wait.
“Get inside before someone sees you,” Jimin says with a chuckle as the door opens, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugs you into his room.
Inside his room, you can’t help but glance around and let out a small laugh as you take in his massive suite compared to your standard room.
“Damn. Really feeling that tax bracket difference,” you say then.
Jimin rolls his eyes, looking sassy as ever.
“Perks of working our asses off for fifteen years. They gotta keep us happy,” he says sarcastically.
He makes his way over to the kitchen area, popping open a bottle of champagne that probably costs more than your monthly salary, and pours two glasses.
“None of the others wanted to drink with you tonight?” you ask curiously as he hands you a glass.
He shrugs. He seems to be doing that a lot tonight.
“I didn’t ask.”
He sips his champagne, hand waving in front of you to encourage you to do the same.
You take a sip too, the sweet, bubbly taste exploding on your tongue.
That’s when you notice something interesting.
“You didn’t take the braids out,” you point out.
His eyes sparkle with his smile as he walks back toward the sitting area.
“They look good. Made me feel good,” he says, plopping down on the couch.
You follow him, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.
“The fans seemed to love them, too,” you say with a soft chuckle.
Jimin looks at you then, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Did you?” he asks.
“Hm?”
He sips his champagne again, throat bobbing as he swallows.
“Did you love the braids, noona?” he clarifies.
It’s your turn to shrug then.
“They look good on you. I wouldn’t have done them if I didn’t think they would,” you say.
Jimin shifts on the couch, closing some of the distance between you two. He brings his left leg up on the cushion, sitting more casually.
“You made me feel really confident tonight,” he continues, his Busan satoori coming out a bit with his casual demeanor.
You can’t help but laugh softly.
“That’s what I’m here for. Making sure you feel confident enough to go on stage and be happy with how you look.”
You sip your champagne again before setting the glass down on the coffee table.
Jimin’s gaze follows your movement, his hand moving to set his own glass down.
He swallows, jaw working as he considers his next words.
“You’ve been doing my hair since debut,” he says then, “and you always make sure I’m happy with it before you let me go on stage.”
Your brow furrows in confusion.
“Well, yeah— of course I do. I might be the stylist, but it’s you that has to be okay with how you look.”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head.
“Not all stylists feel that way. Some think it’s their vision, and the idol just has to live with it.”
Jimin shifts a little closer to you on the couch, leaving only a foot of space between you now.
“You actually care,” he continues, “you want to make me feel good.”
You rest your elbow on the back of the couch, turning to face him a bit more.
“I do,” you say simply.
That mischievous glint in Jimin’s eyes shines a little brighter now.
“I want to make you feel good too,” he rasps, his Busan satoori bleeding into every word now.
“Hm?” you ask, confused.
The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk then.
“You asked me to trust you earlier,” he says, “can you do the same for me now?”
Your body tenses slightly as Jimin closes the remaining distance between you two on the couch, his thigh pressing against yours now.
His arm snakes around your shoulders then, hand coming up to cup the side of your neck. His thumb traces the line of your jaw, making your head turn instinctively toward him.
“Jimin—,” you start then, meeting his gaze.
“Trust me, noona,” he breathes, his face inching toward yours.
He nudges at your jaw then, his breath ghosting your neck as his nose trails slowly along your jawline.
“Can I?” he murmurs, the slight vibration of his voice hitting your neck, “can I make you feel good this time?”
You shiver slightly, the heat of his breath making your skin tingle.
“Jimin— is that a good idea?” you whisper.
He chuckles softly against your neck then, his lips brushing against your skin.
“You’re always so collected, noona. So put together, worried about everything,” he murmurs.
You laugh a bit nervously, unsure what to say.
“Can’t you stop worrying about if something’s a good idea, and just think about how good it would feel to let go?” he continues.
His lips press a barely-there kiss to the spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.
“Just trust me,” he repeats.
You pull back, looking at him. You definitely thought he was fucking with you, but the look of pure want in his eyes tells you how wrong you were.
“Okay—,” you say quietly then, “yeah. I trust you.”
You barely get the last word out before Jimin surges forward, claiming your mouth in a desperate, sensual kiss. His hand grips the side of your neck more firmly, holding you in place.
You kiss him back, lips following his lead as he deepens it. It’s all teeth, tongue, and heat, him licking into your mouth like he’s been dying to do it for longer than he’s let on.
Your hand moves to his stomach, fisting into his t-shirt as you keep him close. You feel his free hand wrap around your hip, his fingers gripping right at your waist.
“Taste like the champagne,” he breathes against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip, eliciting a soft catch of your breath.
His hand at your waist tugs you forward, putting you on his lap. He gently positions your thighs so you’re straddling him, his hand sliding to the small of your back then, pressing firmly to slide you closer so your chest presses to his.
“Don’t stop now,” he breathes, looking up at you, “I know you want this as badly as I do.”
Your free arm drapes onto the couch cushion behind him, fingers threading into the back of his hair as you claim his lips this time.
Jimin’s hips buck up against you slightly, a soft hiss following the movement as he kisses you.
The kiss gets more intense, your earlier hesitation fading into confidence. Your tongue meets his, sloppy and inhibited. You pull his lower lip between yours, sucking lightly.
“Ah— shit, noona. Please,” he breathes.
That makes you pause. “Please?” you murmur against his lips, pulling back just a bit to look at him.
He tugs at the hem of your hoodie then, his eyes half-lidded as he nods. “Yeah, please. Wanna see.”
You strip your hoodie and t-shirt off in one motion, tossing it on the floor haphazardly.
Jimin’s eyes darken slightly, taking in your black bra, the tops of your breasts spilling over the edge of the cups. His hand immediately slides up your back to the clasp, stilling there.
“Okay if I take this off?” he asks, eyes searching yours.
“How else are you gonna see?” you ask, a small smirk of your own crossing your lips now.
Jimin flicks his fingers quickly, deftly undoing the clasp and moving both hands to the straps at your shoulders, pulling them down to fully reveal your breasts to him.
A low groan leaves Jimin’s lips then, his hands sliding to your front and stopping at your ribs. His thumbs brush the underside of your breasts, eyes meeting yours again.
“Can I?” he asks, ever the king of consent.
“Yeah,” you breathe out.
His hands cup your breasts, squeezing and massaging them, his thumbs occasionally brushing or circling over the nipple. He shifts forward, his lips pressing to the hollow of your shoulder above your collarbone.
Jimin trails hot, wet kisses along the path of the bone, his tongue darting out to lick at your skin.
“Thirteen years,” he breathes against your collarbone, “thirteen years of being too fucking professional with you to ever want this.”
He sucks the skin lightly, leaving a tiny red mark that’ll fade by morning.
“But not tonight. Tonight— tonight you gave me the confidence to ask for what I want,” he finishes.
Your breath hitches, hips rolling against him as his lips reach the sensitive skin of your throat.
You tug at his t-shirt then, wanting him to be as bare as you.
“Lemme see you now,” you say quietly.
Jimin chuckles, his eyes glinting with that signature sparkle as he pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere on the floor.
“God— Jimin, what the fuck?” you ask, a soft scoff leaving your lips.
He gives you that cheeky smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he shrugs.
“Been in the gym a lot with Yoongi-hyung and Jungkookie,” he says casually, as if there’s nothing impressive about his newly formed, nearly-washboard abs.
“I see this,” you say, rolling your eyes.
He takes one of your hands, dragging it down his chest and abdomen.
“Touch me too, noona,” he whispers then, “want you to want me, too.”
Your hips roll against him again, his words sending a jolt through you.
Jimin groans more audibly then, his hips bucking up to meet yours.
“Fuck,” he exhales, “don’t stop.”
You lean down and capture his lips again, one hand resting at his lower stomach, your thumb brushing along the sensitive skin there while your other hand holds the back of his neck.
He kisses you back, more sensual than before, his tongue dragging against yours as he lets out a soft moan into your mouth.
He squeezes your thigh gently, slowly working his way higher up your leg as he kisses you more. At the top of your thigh, his thumb brushes the inner part, and he breaks the kiss, keeping his mouth close against yours as he speaks.
“Can I touch you more?” he murmurs.
You nod against his lips, sliding your ass further up his lap, causing his thumb to press against your clothed core.
Jimin takes the hint, his thumb pressing firmly and rubbing circles over your clit through your leggings, making you gasp.
His soft, short laugh comes out against your lips.
“Pretty noise, noona. Can you make more for me?” he teases gently, his thumb circling a bit faster.
He moves quickly then, shifting his position, flipping you onto your back on the couch and kneeling between your thighs.
“Need these off,” he says, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings, waiting, as always, for your consent.
Instead of saying anything, you lift your hips. His hands pull at your leggings, dragging them and your panties down your thighs. He gently pulls one foot and then the other out of the material, tossing the rest of your clothes onto the floor.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, his hands resting on the outsides of your thighs as he leans down to press his lips against the inside of your knee, “gonna make you come for me.”
His lips follow a path up your inner thigh then, his mouth wet and hot against your skin, hands parting your thighs as he settles on his belly between them.
His kisses get sloppier, more urgent, more tongue, the higher up he goes, and your breaths come shallower, quicker, as your body responds to the anticipation.
“Jimin— what are you doing?” you whine softly.
He chuckles against your skin, nibbling it gently.
“Teasing. Or showing you what to expect when I get my tongue on your pussy,” he says, “you decide.”
A jolt of desire courses through you at his words. He notices, because, always so attentive with everyone, of course he does.
“You’re thinking about it, huh? About how good it’ll feel to have my tongue between your legs?” he teases.
You whine softly again.
“Fuck— yeah, I’m thinking about it,” you admit.
He chuckles again, his tongue dragging down your inner thigh until he stops, his face hovering just above your core.
“Stop thinking then.”
His eyes meet yours from between your legs, and his tongue drags a long, slow path from your entrance up to your clit, stopping there and tracing firm, target circles around the sensitive bud.
You can’t stop the moan falling from your lips, your hips squirming as his tongue continues its torturous circles.
“The walls aren’t soundproofed, noona,” Jimin chuckles against your pussy, making you clap your palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds.
When he sees your hand covering your mouth, he licks faster, his tongue circling your clit, the pattern only broken when he dips lower, tasting your arousal before returning to that sensitive spot.
You moan into your hand again, pressing harder to make sure the sound doesn’t travel.
He buries his tongue deeper, alternating between fast and slow strokes, experimenting to learn what makes you moan and tremble the most.
You squirm more, his hand coming up to rest over your lower stomach to keep you still. His free hand trails up your thigh, two fingers pressing against your entrance before they slide inside you.
You gasp, the added stimulation only fueling your pleasure.
Jimin huffs a soft laugh against your pussy again, crooking his fingers upwards in search of your sweet spot.
His tongue works tirelessly, never slowing as his fingers work until they press against your g-spot.
You whimper into your palm, thighs shaking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. You uncover your mouth briefly to whimper quietly.
“Jimin— fuck, there. So close.”
He speeds up his licks, tongue lapping at your clit in tandem with his fingers thrusting directly into your g-spot.
You feel your climax build rapidly, clamping your hand down over your mouth again just as the coil in your lower stomach snaps.
You moan out into your palm, wave after wave of pleasure ripping through you. Jimin doesn’t stop, simply slowing his movements to push you through your orgasm.
He only lets up when you wince quietly from oversensitivity, pulling his mouth off your pussy and slipping his fingers out of you gently. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean of your juices before wiping his mouth on his upper arm.
“Good?” he chuckles quietly, meeting your eyes.
Your breathing is still too unsteady to speak, so you just lift your hand to give him a thumbs up and a weak smile. He sits up then, never looking away from you.
His eyes sparkle as he smiles back at you, holding his hand out to help you sit up too.
“You’re cute when you’re fucked out like this,” he comments, making you glare at him. But there’s no heat in your gaze, your eyes dropping to the obvious erection tenting his sweatpants.
Your breathing finally settles enough to talk without pausing between words.
“Off,” you say simply, your hand pulling at the fabric of his pants.
Jimin looks at you one more time for confirmation before sliding his sweatpants and boxers off, settling back on the couch in the same spot you started.
Without hesitation, you climb back into his lap, straddling him. Your wetness brushes his cock as you settle, a sharp hiss escaping his lips.
“You’re sure?” he breathes, “because I really wanna fuck you.. but don’t feel like you owe me for what I just did.”
You roll your hips on his lap, grinding your still-dripping pussy against him in response.
“I’m sure,” you whisper, “wanna ride you.”
He groans, the sound low in his throat as you position yourself with his cock pressed to your tight hole.
“Then— fuck, then please, do it,” he murmurs, voice cracking slightly.
You sink down onto his cock then, walls stretching around him to accommodate his size. He’s thick, making the movement slower than you would’ve liked, but after a moment, you settle on his thighs, his cock buried completely inside you.
“Shit—,” he hisses through his teeth, hips instinctively bucking up, his cock hitting deeper with the movement.
You gasp, the pressure against your g-spot intense as his cock hits it just right from this angle.
Jimin’s hands settle on your hips, thumbs gently stroking your skin as he looks up at you.
“Move for me, baby,” he breathes, his hands pressing upwards to lift you.
Your arms wrap around his neck, lips meeting his in a heated kiss as you lift yourself, grinding down on his cock, forcing a low moan from his throat.
He kisses you back, the kiss slow and lazy as his hands work to help guide your rhythm. Your breasts press against his chest, hips rolling as you repeatedly bounce on him.
The room fills with the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, his low moans and your quiet whimpers.
“That’s it,” he breathes, “fuck— pull my hair, noona.”
Your rhythm breaks slightly as you process his request.
“Please—,” he continues, “not hard. Just— tug it. Like you did when you were doing my hair earlier. When I moved and you accidentally pulled it. Felt good.”
You kiss him again, regaining your bearings, and ride him more deliberately then. Your hand slides into the back of his hair, fingers threading into it at his scalp, and tug lightly.
The sound that escapes his lips can only be described as a desperate whimper, quiet and needy.
“Shit— yes. Please, more,” he breathes.
You break the kiss, tugging his hair a little more firmly to tip his head back, your lips pressing to his throat. He groans at the sensation of your mouth on his skin and the pulling of his hair, his hips bucking up to meet your every move.
His fingers press into your hips, leaving indentations on your skin, soft grunts and deep, low moans punctuating every thrust up into your pussy.
“Noona— gonna come. Where—,” he starts, his question cut off when you suck lightly at the base of his throat, your fingers tightening in his hair.
The sting of the harder tug pulls another needy whimper from him, his hips thrusting up hard.
“In me,” you breathe against his throat.
He groans deeply, his hips thrusting up once, twice, three more times before they still, stuttering against you as he spills inside you.
“Fuck,” he moans, “you— fuck.”
You slow your hips, rolling them slowly to draw out every drop of his release, continuing until his hands pull you down to stop you from moving anymore.
The room is quiet now save for panting breaths from both of you. Jimin’s arms wrap around your waist then, his eyes opening to meet yours. His thumbs brush the skin of your lower back, not saying anything at first.
After a few slightly awkward moments, he finally speaks.
“Well— that was.. that was fucking incredible,” he chuckles nervously.
You chuckle too then, nodding. “It was.”
He lets out a slow breath, the awkwardness fading as you both realize things are still okay between you two.
“I really don’t wanna kick you out,” he says quietly then, “but— we’re already pushing it with you even being here.”
You shake your head slightly then, a small smile crossing your face.
“I know. I’ll go,” you say, understanding.
Jimin leans forward then, pressing a few quick, tender kisses to your lips, his lips curving upward in a smile of his own.
“Not mad at me?” he asks.
You shake your head again.
“No. Not mad. I’ll be— so fucking fired if anyone ever finds out about this,” you respond.
His smile fades slightly, but it’s not in sadness, just gentle understanding.
“You won’t be. I’d take the blame, have them cover it up. I told you, it’s perfectly safe. You’re perfectly safe with me,” he says quietly.
You nod, pressing a kiss of your own to his lips before you finally pull yourself off his lap.
The two of you dress quickly, and Jimin stands, facing you. His hand reaches up to smooth over your hair, making sure it doesn’t look too messy before you go in case you’re seen.
You take one last look at each before you finally step away.
At the door, you turn back and give him a small smirk.
“Next time you’re feeling yourself again…” you trail off.
Jimin’s eyebrow raises, curious.
“Come feel me instead.”
Jimin can’t help but laugh at your words, giving you that characteristic eye-crinkling smile.
“Yeah,” he says, “I will, noona.”
With that, you slip out of his room, making your way back down the hallway toward your own room.
Just as you’re about to open your own door, you hear a clearing of someone’s throat from behind you.
You freeze, heart rate picking up as you turn slowly to face the owner of the sound.
Looking up, you’re met with the man who made the sound, instantly knowing he definitely either saw you leaving Jimin’s room, or worse, heard you from inside.
“Namjoon,” you say quietly, “it’s not—.”
“The walls aren’t soundproofed, noona,” he cuts you off, “be more careful next time, unless you want the whole floor to hear you,” he says simply.
You let out an anxious breath, nodding slowly.
“I won’t say anything. But I can’t say the same for the rest of the staff,” he continues.
You fidget with your room key, still anxious under Namjoon’s gaze.
“Go to bed before someone else finds you out here,” he finishes, giving you a small, dimpled smile before he disappears into his own room.
You turn back quickly, unlocking your door and rushing inside. You press your back against the door, exhaling shakily.
Fuck.
Namjoon knows you just slept with Jimin. You trust him to keep his word and not tell anyone, but if he heard you.. who else did?
Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzes.
Jimin: told you, noona. you’re safe with me.
You breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s tinged with residual anxiety, knowing Namjoon probably talked to Jimin too, based on his text.
Jimin: just gotta be more quiet next time.
Jimin: hope there is a next time.
You smile softly to yourself, reading his messages as they come through.
You: there will be.
You put your phone away, getting ready for bed. The anxiety fades eventually. You curl into your sheets, staring at the dark ceiling above you as you get lost in your own thoughts.
You just slept with Jimin. An idol who, all things considered, could be labeled as completely untouchable. Shouldn’t be accessible, especially not to you. The one who’s been with him since the group’s debut, traveling the world, at every performance and event, simply styling his hair. Making sure he looked good, felt good. And it shouldn’t have happened at all, but it did.
You keep replaying the night in your head. How he touched you, the way he asked over and over for your consent. The way it seemed like you’d done this a thousand times before, when neither of you have ever even attempted to cross that line. None of it makes sense. Shouldn’t it have been a little awkward? Shouldn’t there have been more fumbling, more learning each other? Shouldn’t there have been a little more hesitation?
You shake your head, hoping to clear your mind. What’s done is done, and you can’t take it back now that it’s happened. You start to drift off to sleep, your brain slowly shutting off for the night.
But there’s one specific thought that you can’t seem to shake from your mind.
The thought makes your brain buzz, your mind replaying his request, every sound that fell from his lips as he responded to you.
It’s thrown casually across the table, light and teasing, the kind of thing people ask when the conversation dips into that easy, familiar rhythm—laughing, sharing stories, poking at each other just enough to get a reaction. Someone leans forward, chin in their hand, eyes bright with curiosity.
“So,” they say, dragging the moment out just a little. “What’s your ideal type?”
And somehow—
Somehow—
Everyone looks at him.
Min Yoongi
Yoongi doesn’t react at first. He’s leaned back in his chair, one arm resting loosely along the back, the picture of disinterest like always, like none of this really matters enough to warrant more than a half-hearted response. He exhales quietly through his nose, gaze dropping briefly to the table like he’s considering just not answering at all.
“Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, low, almost automatic.
“Too late,” someone shoots back immediately. “You have to answer now.”
A few people laugh.
You don’t.
You’re sitting just across from him, trying very hard to look like you’re not paying too much attention, even though your heartbeat has picked up for no reason you want to examine too closely.
It’s a harmless question.
It should be.
Yoongi shrugs slightly, like it’s not a big deal, like it doesn’t matter either way.
“I don’t have one,” he says at first, voice flat, dismissive.
Groans ripple around the table instantly.
“Boring.”
“That’s such a lie.”
“Everyone has a type.”
He rolls his eyes faintly, already done with this.
“I’m serious,” he says, quieter now, like he means it.
You're best friends with Min Yoongi and somehow along the way he became a father figure to your daughter.
Yoongi never planned on being anyone’s appa.
He barely planned on being out of bed most days, if he’s honest.
You were his constant first—late-night calls, takeout on the floor, quiet companionship that didn’t ask too much from him when the world already did. He liked you because you didn’t need noise to fill space. You understood him in the pauses.
And then your life shifted.
Suddenly there was a tiny human in your arms, and everything about you sharpened—your priorities, your exhaustion, your love. Yoongi didn’t step back.
He just… adjusted.
At first, he stayed in the background.
He’d sit on the edge of the couch while you fed her, eyes flicking over like he wasn’t trying to stare. He’d bring groceries without asking, leave them on the counter like it wasn’t a big deal.
“You don’t have to keep doing that,” you told him once, watching him unpack formula like he’d done it a hundred times.
He shrugged. “I was already out.”
“You hate going out.”
“…I was already out,” he repeated.
You didn’t argue.
He got used to her faster than he expected.
Faster than you expected.
It started small.
Holding her while you showered.
Rocking her absentmindedly while scrolling on his phone, only to realize ten minutes later he’d been swaying the entire time.
Letting her grab onto his finger—tiny, impossibly strong grip—and just… staying there.
“She’s got you wrapped already,” you teased one night.
He scoffed. “She weighs like, what, three kilos?”
“Four now.”
“Still.”
But he didn’t pull his hand away.
Sleep became the biggest thing.
Not his—yours.
Yoongi noticed the way your eyes burned, the way you moved like you were running on fumes and instinct.
So one night, when she wouldn’t settle, he just… stood up.
“I got her,” he said.
You blinked at him. “Yoongi, you don’t—”
“I got her,” he repeated, already taking her from your arms with a surprising amount of confidence.
You hesitated. “She might cry.”
“She’s already crying.”
“…fair.”
He didn’t look at you again, just turned and paced slowly around your living room, her small body tucked against his chest.
And you—despite yourself—fell asleep on the couch.
You woke up to quiet.
That kind of quiet that feels suspicious.
For a split second, panic hit—until you sat up and saw them.
Yoongi, slouched back against the couch now, head tilted slightly, eyes closed.
Your daughter asleep on his chest.
One of his hands was resting protectively over her back, fingers splayed like he’d been making sure she stayed there even in his sleep.
Your chest tightened.
He didn’t even realize what he’d become.
It stopped being a question after that.
He had a key.
He showed up unannounced.
He knew where everything was—diapers, bottles, her favourite blanket.
“You reorganized,” you said one afternoon, watching him move through your kitchen like he lived there.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Made more sense this way.”
You stared at him for a second. “…you’re nesting.”
“I am not nesting.”
“You are absolutely nesting.”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it.
She started recognizing him.
That was the turning point.
The way her face lit up when he walked in. The way she reached for him, little arms grabbing, tiny voice babbling excitedly.
Yoongi tried to play it cool.
Tried.
But you saw it—the way his shoulders softened every time. The way his voice dropped an octave when he spoke to her, quieter, gentler.
“Hey,” he’d murmur, taking her from you like it was second nature. “You good today?”
She’d just grin at him like he hung the moon.
The first time it happened, it wasn’t even a big moment.
No build-up. No warning.
Just a normal afternoon.
You were in the kitchen, Yoongi on the floor with her, letting her crawl all over him while he half-heartedly protested.
“You’re heavy,” he muttered as she climbed onto his stomach.
She laughed, patting at his face with clumsy hands.
“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “You’re strong, I get it.”
You smiled to yourself, leaning against the counter, watching them.
And then—
“Appa.”
Everything stopped.
Yoongi froze.
Completely.
“…what?” he said, barely above a whisper.
Your daughter just blinked at him, then smiled again, like she’d said the most natural thing in the world.
“Appa,” she repeated, clearer this time.
Your breath caught.
Yoongi didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t breathe.
“She—” he started, voice cracking slightly. “She didn’t—did she just—”
“Yeah,” you said softly. “She did.”
He looked at you like you needed to confirm it was real.
Then back at her.
Then back at you.
“I didn’t teach her that,” he said quickly, almost defensive.
“I know you didn’t.”
“I didn’t—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “That’s not—”
He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Because she reached for him again.
“Appa.”
That did it.
Something in his expression broke open—not messy, not overwhelming, just… quiet and deep and completely unguarded.
His hand came up slowly, almost unsure, brushing her hair back from her face.
“You can’t just say things like that,” he murmured to her, voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
She giggled.
Didn’t understand a word.
You stepped closer, kneeling beside them. “You okay?”
He let out a breath that sounded like it had been stuck in his chest for years.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
His eyes flicked to yours, something vulnerable sitting right there.
“That’s… a big word.”
“I know.”
“She shouldn’t—” he started, then stopped himself.
You tilted your head. “Shouldn’t what?”
“Call me that,” he said quietly. “I’m not—”
“You are,” you cut in gently.
He shook his head. “I’m not her—”
“I’m not saying you’re replacing anyone,” you said, just as soft. “But you’re here. You’ve been here.”
He looked down at her again, at the way she was clutching his shirt, completely content in his space.
“She chose that,” you added.
That hit.
You saw it land.
Because Yoongi had never been someone who believed he deserved things easily.
Least of all something like this.
“…appa,” she mumbled again, already distracted, tugging at his sleeve.
He huffed out a quiet, disbelieving breath.
Then, carefully—so carefully—it was almost like he was afraid of doing it wrong—
He adjusted her in his arms.
Held her a little closer.
“Yeah?” he murmured, voice low and steadying. “You calling me?”
She beamed.
And Yoongi—
Min Yoongi, who kept his world small and controlled and guarded—
Synopsis: What does it take to balance the overwhelming weight of fame and a desire for a peaceful life? To the world he is RM, leader of BTS. But to Y/N he is simply Kim Namjoon. Together they navigate the ever careful balance of what the world can and cannot see. From a first meeting to BTS 2.0 their relationship blooms in unexpected ways.
Tag List: @staytinyarmy @magpir8629
~2021~
My event had been a total success. Despite all my worries that something would go wrong, nothing had gone wrong. Everything had gone smoothly, there had been some great networking, and now the exhibit was set to open to the public. I was still riding on the high of it all when the first text came in from the pink haired idol. We had exchanged numbers, but I had honestly not thought he would actually text me. So when my phone buzzed and his name popped up, I was surprised.
I found myself trying to type out a response, but I really didn’t know what to say to that. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if I should be entertaining this conversation. He had said he wanted to get to know me more, but I couldn’t help but think that I wasn't the first girl he’d tried this on. For all I knew, when he said he wasn’t trying to use the idol card it was all just a bunch of smooth talking. I didn’t want to be naive in all of this. I typed something and deleted it several times before deciding to just be honest with my thoughts.
Namjoon: How was the rest of your night?
Me: A total success. Dumped all my worries on you for nothing.
Namjoon: A well deserved success.
Namjoon: And I didn’t mind.
Me: Did you enjoy the rest of your night?
Namjoon: Yes, though I admit the best part was seeing you again.
Me: I’m flattered. But I need to put this out there. You’re right, I do know who you are. I’m not looking to play games. If you’re just looking for someone to flirt with and have a potential fling… I’m not the girl.
Namjoon: Give me a minute to get somewhere private. I want to call you.
I knew any girl would kill to have the private number of a guy like him. Famous, handsome, charming. But that wasn't me. I wanted real connections. What I didn’t realize was that was exactly what he was looking for, what he had seen in me. Part of me almost told him not to call, shut him down completely. But something stopped me. Despite my phone being in my hand, I still jumped when my phone went off. The small thought of 3 for 3 crossed my mind and made me smile.
“Three for Three.” I answered, trying to break the awkwardness of greetings for a first time call.
“Three… You jumped.” He let out a low chuckle at the realization of what I was saying.
“I jumped.” I laughed.
“I really should be more mindful now that I know you startle so easily.” He teased. I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Maybe… just a little.” I didn’t understand how it was so easy to fall into flirtatious banter with him. This call was literally because I told him I wasn’t that girl.
“Y/N…” His tone shifted, as if he too remembered the reason he was calling. “I understand what you are saying, your text I mean. I can see where you might get the idea that maybe that’s what I’m after. But I promise you, it’s not.” He let out a sigh. “I debuted eight years ago. I have never given out my personal number like I did with you. Have I had flings? Sure. I won’t deny that. But I just…” He seemed like he was trying to find the right words but was struggling.
“Namjoon…” I tried, but he went on.
“I saw the recognition in your eyes when you first looked up. For a minute I thought I had made a mistake approaching you, that maybe I had just set myself up for an awkward fan interaction. Something that would come around and bite me in the ass. Except you didn’t say a word. Instead we exchanged book recommendations. You lit up when you shared your favorite book.” he went on. “I stopped myself from going after you to get your name because I told myself I didn’t want to tarnish one of the most human interactions I have had since becoming an idol. But then when I saw you at the exhibit, I couldn’t stop myself.” There was a small pause, “I meant what I said last night. I want to get to know you. Am I flirting with you? Yes. But I’m not looking for a fling. Just some human connection” I listened to everything he said. When I didn’t immediately say anything I heard his small sigh. “Y/N?”
“I’m here…” I said quietly. “I realize I made some harsh assumptions. I know who you are, but I don’t know you.” I bit my lip as I thought out my next words. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d like to get to know you, too.” I finally said. “As friends.” I clarified, creating a boundary. Or so I thought. Little did I know, two chance meetings and this phone call were all about to send me down the craziest path of my life.
“So if I asked if you’d like to meet up for coffee or drinks, maybe you’d say yes then?” Namjoon asked carefully.
“I think I could say yes to that,” I smiled shyly. For some reason I couldn’t shake the butterflies in my stomach. Even with that little ‘as friends’ line I’d drawn. I was sure it wasn’t because I was starstruck. Because yes, I knew who he was. That didn’t mean I followed their group as a fan. If anything, who he was was what made me so hesitant.
“Okay, cool. I’ll text you and we’ll make plans. I need to get back before someone comes looking for me. I had to sneak off to call you but I wanted to make my intentions clear. I’d hate for you to think I was just after one thing.”
“Alright, bye.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
I really wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into.
The first time we went out we spent over three hours talking about books and art. We probably could have gone longer if he didn’t have an engagement to attend to later that afternoon. They were in the middle of promotions for their upcoming release. Which explained the pink hair. That was as much as we touched upon his celebrity status though. Instead keeping the subject to shared interests. Conversation came surprisingly easy.
The next time I saw him, he’d come by the museum while I was working. I had mentioned in a text the night before that I had needed to go in early for a delivery. He brought me coffee and a breakfast sandwich.
When we weren’t making plans to see one another in person, we were texting. There were even a few phone calls when he could slip away. At one point he admitted his group members were getting suspicious of him sneaking around. It wasn’t as if they didn’t date or mess around, but he said he was trying to preserve whatever this was.
The next time I saw him was the night before he was supposed to fly out for some promotional obligation with the group. We had been texting pretty much every day. Sometimes he would talk about whatever demands he was dealing with, but he often shied away from talking about his idol life. He’d asked me if I would join him for dinner. We had made arrangements to meet at this little hole in the wall that I knew. I figured it was small enough that we shouldn’t run into any trouble. I had just underestimated the scope of his fame. I stood outside waiting for him, smiling when I saw him. When we first went in, the place was empty. It’d get busier later after people were leaving the nearby bars and looking for something to eat. Namjoon opened the door for me and I slipped inside. It looked like it was going to rain.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” I asked as we settled in at a table.
“Early, then we go right into a schedule pretty much as soon as we land. It will be a long few days while we’re out there.”
“WIll you be back this way before you go back to Korea?” I asked, because the reality that he was just visiting my city had started to set in.
Namjoon smiled, “Yes, we have some tapings to do. And we are doing some recording at a studio here in the city. Later this year we have four shows, too. I’ll be around more than you think.”
“Good, because I’ve been kinda getting used to having you around.”
“Really?” Namjoon raised a brow then leaned forward with a small smirk. “As friends, right?” he teased.
I pressed my lips together trying to think of a witty answer because things already felt like they were shifting between us, when I saw the way his eyes darted towards the window and his expression shifted.
“Shit,” he muttered and sat back.
“Namjoon, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“We have to go,” suddenly he was standing and reaching for my hand. As we walked, he pulled his hood up and kept his head down. I did my best to keep up with his long strides. I didn’t understand what was happening. The whole time he kept a firm hold on my hand. When we got outside, I realized what the problem was when I heard a girl behind us.
“I swear, it was RM. He was in there at one of the back tables.” I glanced back to see the girl dragging her friend back to the restaurant we’d just left. I realized how close we had just come to being seen.
It had started to rain while we were inside, and now as we walked quickly down the street we were both getting soaked. When we had made it several blocks, we ducked under an awning and he pulled his phone out. I didn’t understand what he was saying, because it was in Korean. I hugged myself, shivering from being wet and cold. I peaked out from where we stood, but it didn’t seem like we had been followed.
“Come here.” Namjoon said gently. I turned back towards him and he had unzipped his jacket and held it open. I hesitated, understanding what he was implying. “You're shivering, Y/N.”
“N-no I’m n-not.” I said stubbornly, but my shivered stutter gave me away.
After a moment, I did step forward. He pulled me in against him, and wrapped his arms around me as I leaned in against his broad chest. He was warm, despite being as wet as I was. I brought my arms around his waist as he held the jacket around us both the best he could.
“I’ve got someone coming to get us.” Namjoon said, resting his chin on my head, watching the road, and waiting. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” he sighed.
“For what?” I was still shaking, but pulled back enough to look up at him.
“The strangeness that comes with my fame. If we keep this up, it’s not going to be the last time.” his voice dropped.
If we keep this up. His words lingered.
“Okay… and?” I felt like he would be able to feel my heart racing with how close we were.
“I don’t want it to scare you away…” his eyes met mine. “Not when I’m just getting to know you.” He leaned down as I looked up at him. We were so close, I could feel his breath. “Not when I want to…”
Namjoon didn’t finish his sentence, at least not with words. I gasped softly as his soft lips met mine. I gripped the back of his shirt as he brought one hand up to hold the side of my face. The kiss was warm and gentle. Tentative. I knew as he slowly pulled away my cheeks were painted pink. He rubbed his thumb tenderly against my cheek.
I wasn’t sure after a kiss like that anything between us was going to be able to stay ‘as friends’.
Synopsis:After an injury derailed Y/N's dreams of dancing, she felt unbalanced. Her life was turned upside down and she was left unsure of what was next. Until her self-discovery and travels brought her to street performance. Still unbalanced, the day came when the stranger joined her. She had no idea that behind the mask and cap was Stray Kids' own Hyunjin or the balance that chance meeting might bring.
I had seen the writing on the wall during that rehearsal when I had joined the guys. They had been making adjustments to the choreography and other pieces. The guys had their first festival in two weeks when the announcement went out. Seungmin was staying behind. I was curious what that meant for the other seven. Sure, I had seen the adjustments they had made at the fan meeting, but Seungmin was there. I had also seen the adjustments they were making during rehearsal. I just hadn't realized it was for his absence entirely. Missy had mentioned that Seungmin was still dealing with his injury, I guess I just hadn't realized to what extent. I could sympathize with him though, it eas no fun dealing with chronic pain. If he had a chance to rest and let it heal then he needed to take the hiatus.
Hyunjin and I were hanging out at home in night when I thought to bring it up. He was currently massaging my leg, causing me to wince slightly. “How does it work, I mean if one of you have to step away for a while?” having not followed the group closely I was unaware of the hiatus he had taken. Nor that they had actually lost a member after debut.
“The group has dealt with it in two capacities. Once when we had a member leave the group. That was hard because we had to change everything. We even decided to re-recorded a lot of our early stuff.” He explained, softening his touch when he realized I was wincing more. “When I went on hiatus, they adjusted. It was also when they were doing some filming. It's hard… but we are a team and we figure it out.”
“You went on hiatus?”
I listened as he went on to tell me about what had happened back in 2021. The anonymous accusations online, the indefinite hiatus, meeting with his accuser. Having gone to school in Korea at that age, I understood the expectations and how much a weight a bullying accusation held. He spoke of the how he had spent the time off reflecting, doing charity work, and making donations. I realized that even though this had happened several years ago this still weighed on him.
“I hope this doesn’t make you see me in a different light,” he finally said. HIs hands had fallen still, resting on my leg.
“Hyunjin, we all make mistakes. But also you as a middle schooler is not the same as you at twenty-six.” I reassured him. “I love you, every bit of you. Your past, your faults, it all makes you who you are.” I said. “Besides, I went to Korean school when I was younger, remember? Then after that I went to an arts school. People were ruthless. So… I get it. Both sides of it.” I wasn’t dismissing the bullying accusation, that wasn’t what I meant.
It was getting closer to the day the guys would be flying out for their first festival. My father hadn’t been letting up on things since I dropped the news that I was engaged to a man and staying in Korea to be with him. A man that I had never even mentioned to my family. It wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t had my brother try to search through my social media. They wouldn’t find anything. There was absolutely no mention of Hyunjin on any of my socials. For obvious reasons. Hyunjin had enough on his plate with the festival and the changes that were being made. I ignored most of the calls, texts I answered with short one or two word answers. I felt like I had backed Hyunjin and I into a corner with this lie. It had definitely put us right back in the same limbo we had been in before actually becoming a couple. I was worried that it seemed like things moved too fast. But I was realizing, things were different here. It was unheard of for couples to move so quickly rather than drag out their relationships. They didn’t waste time on relationships they didn’t believe wouldn’t last. If Hyunjin was talking about marriage, then he was serious. It wasn’t just about my legal status.
I was on my computer looking at flights when Hyunjin came home from rehearsal. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair was damp. As he walked by heading towards the bathroom to shower, he paused to kiss the top of my head. That’s when he saw the site I was on.
“Where are you going?” He frowned.
“I think I need to go home and deal with my father.” I sighed.
“Don’t you think maybe I should be with you?” Hyunjin asked.
I leaned back looking up at him, I understood what he was saying. “You don’t know my dad, Jinnie.”
“He thinks that we’re engaged, Darling. I should be with you…” His eyes flickered to the screen, seeing the destination of the flights I was looking at. “Come to the festival, then after we can go together. I have an engagement with one of the brands while I’m already not flying back with the others.”
“Hyunjin,” I tried to argue.
“It’s all in New York, Y/N.” He pointed at my computer.
“Okay,” I finally nodded. “Should I let Stella know, since I’m sure it means she’ll have to adjust for whoever was staying back with you?” I really wasn’t sure how any of this was going to go.
“I’ll take care of it, darling.” He pressed another kiss to the top of my head.
“Okay… so about that shower. You stink,” I teased, trying to lighten the moment a bit.
It was enough to make him chuckle, “I’m going.”
I looked over at my phone and sighed picking it up sending out a text to the girls.
Me: Okay, who has done the whole meet the parents bit? Hyunjin wants to meet my dad and I don't think this is a good idea.
Missy: Suengmin met my parents. When my mother kept pulling her normal BS he got up and announced we were leaving.
Kat: Jisung and Minho met my sister at my dad’s funeral.
Stella: My brother raised me, him and Chan are all buddy buddy now and gang up on me with this pregnancy.
Angie: Felix and I were friends as kids, so we practically lived at one another’s house.
Minta: Haven’t even thought about it. I should probably tell them I’m moving to Korea, too.
Stella: Minta! Really??
Bunny: I don’t talk to my family, they don’t even know where I am. It’s better that way.
Seeing the girls’ responses I realized how we all came from such different backgrounds. But in a way none of us were entirely close to our families. Maybe it was why this little found family we’d created with the guys had become so strong. Well, I knew Angie’s parents were both gone and it sounded like Kat was in the same boat.
Me: I’m freaking out. When my father was pushing for me to come back I might have said Hyunjin and I were engaged, now he’s doubled down since he didn’t even know I was seeing anyone.
Missy: WAIT, back up.
Kat: Engaged? When did that happen?
Me: No, no, no. I PANICKED and just said it. We aren’t engaged.
Bunny: ……
Minta: Oh, this is good.
Stella: Does Hyunjin know you said that?
Me: Yes… he was sitting right there when it happened.
Missy: OMG
Things sort of devolved after that and the girls weren’t much help. Bunny had been oddly quiet. I watched as the girls all went back and forth, i wondered if the guys’ group chat ever got this chaotic. But then I realized, that yes it probably did and was likely even worse.
Chan, Jeongin, and Felix all had engagements with their brands that week. Which with three of the guys gone and Seungmin resting, Hyunjin had some more free time. We were spending a lot of time down at the studio dancing. Prior to them flying out there had also been some whole thing with Kat, Minho, and Jisung. Hyunjin hadn’t been involved in the scheme, but he had told me about it. Kat had also mentioned it in the group chat.
One of the days Hyunjin had said he had some things that he needed to take care of, so we agreed to meet at the studio in the evening. Angie had come by and suggested we go out and spend the day together. Oddly, I felt like something was up. Hyunjin wasn’t one to just say he had ‘stuff’ to do, he would typically elaborate a little bit. Felix was grinning when I’d stopped by their apartment to meet with Angie. Everything about the day just felt a bit odd and I couldn’t quite place it. We ended up going to get our nails done. I enjoyed Angie’s company, she was starting to get more comfortable with everyone like I was. In her case it was a situation of being on the outside looking in for all these years and now being in the center of Felix’s crazy life. We all had to adjust in some ways.
At the end of the day, I texted Hyunjin to tell him I was going to go home and change before heading to the studio.
Me: I’ll be there soon.
Jin: I already have your bag, you can change here.
I frowned, it didn’t make sense. Rather than argue with him though, I adjusted my route and headed to the studio. It was a space that had really become ours. Everyone knew if they couldn’t find us, this was where we likely were. I now had a key to get in and assumed that he was already back in the studio waiting for me. Easily letting myself in, I made my way down the hall. I never expected what i found as I pushed the door open.
Flowers lined the mirrored walls, the lights had been dimmed just enough to cut the harshness of them. The room was fragrant from all the flowers. There were small flickering lanterns spread about as well. The entire space was almost unrecognizable. In the middle of it all, Hyunjin stood. He looked as though he’d just stepped out of one of his photoshoots and it made me feel quite underdressed in my shorts and hoodie. Though my clothes were starting to match him a bit more as he helped build up my wardrobe.
“Hyunjin?” I took it all in as my eyes fell back to him again. “What is all this?”
He smiled, it was that seductive smile he often got, the way his eyes softened yet darkened all at the same time. It always made my heart race.
“We got stuck in limbo again, darling. I wanted to make my intentions clear. No more back and forth, no more thinking it is just a ruse because of a slip of the tongue. I hope that you will say yes when i ask if you will be my wife. You are my love, you are my muse, you are my balance. I don’t see a future without you in it.”
or: oh great. your roommate bailed on you right before the new month's payment, and you need to find a new roommate asap. lucky for you, chan came (literally) to your rescue. he's charming enough, and more importantly, pays rent on time. you've agreed to split rent by half, but rent won't be the only thing getting split in half, because he's hiding a big secret. and no, not just the one in his pants.
warnings: MDNI!!! contains heavy sexual content, camboy!chris x roommate!reader, porn with some plot, perv!reader, masturbation, piv, mānhandling, spānkïng, hāirpulling, too many kinks , kinda switch!chan but he's mostly a dom daddy dwdw, I'm a cocky chan truther so yk what's coming, a sprinkle of fluff and banter.
wc: 11k
a/n: loosely based off this drabble
"You're fucking kidding me." You stare at the text message. Three sentences that might as well be a bomb dropped in the middle of your living room.
Hey, sorry for the short notice, but I’m moving in with my boyfriend at the end of the week.
I know rent’s due soon, but I kinda already spent my half on the security deposit for our new place.
Good luck finding someone else!
shit
Rent is due in nine days, and your bank account isn’t exactly overflowing.
You’ve never lived alone before. Couldn’t afford it even if you wanted to. And the thought of scrambling to find a new roommate in a week makes your stomach twist.
You're halfway through drafting a frantic "roommate needed ASAP" text to your groupchat when your phone buzzes.
it's one of your few friends who actually bothers to check in.
Heard about your roomie bailing. Absolute bullshit.
Anyway I know a guy. Chill as hell, works freelance, needs a place.
You'd vibe.
You hesitate, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The last thing you want is some rando bringing chaos into your already crumbling life.
But then your landlord's terse "rent due on the 1st, no exceptions" text flashes in your mind.
Fine. Give him my number.
Chan texts you thirty minutes later. His messages are polite. Full sentences, proper punctuation, none of that monosyllabic grunting.
He suggests meeting at the apartment tomorrow afternoon to check the place out, and you agree.
The next day, you're scrubbing the bathroom sink when the doorbell rings. Chan stands in the hallway holding a paper bag that smells like garlic and herbs. "Figured we could talk over lunch," he says, smiling like this isn't weird at all.
Up close, he's so much cuter than you expected, blond hair, unfairly big broad shoulders, dressed in a blank tanktop that showed them off perfectly.
You blink at the take out bag, then at Chan’s easy grin.
There’s no nervous energy radiating off him, no awkward shuffling — just this unsettling calm, like he’s already decided he belongs here. “Uh,” you say, wiping your damp hands on your pants, “you didn’t have to—”
“I know,” he interrupts, already toeing off his sneakers without waiting for an invite. The scent of roasted garlic and rosemary spills into the apartment as he breezes past you toward the kitchen. “But food makes everything less weird, right?”
You trail after him, you don't know whether to be annoyed or charmed.
Chan unpacks the food containers, grilled chicken, some kind of herby rice, roasted vegetables that don’t look like the sad microwave steam bags you usually survive on.
He slides a plate toward you. “Eat first, then interrogation.”
“Interrogation?” You stab a piece of chicken, watching him warily.
Chan shrugs, mouth already full. “Standard roommate shit. ‘Do you snore?’ ‘Are you a serial killer?’ ‘Will you steal my leftovers?’” He swallows, grinning.
“The answer’s no, no, and only if you leave them unlabelled.”
The food is homemade stupidly good, and Chan’s presence is… unsettlingly comfortable.
By the time you’re scraping the last of the rice off your plate, you’ve learned he does something vague with digital marketing (“Basically, I convince people to buy shit they don’t need”), he actually enjoys doing laundry, and he likes to cook.
“So,” Chan says, stacking the empty containers, “you wanna show me around, or should I just start claiming drawers?”
The tour is quick — your apartment isn’t exactly sprawling — but Chan makes appreciative noises at the closet space and tests how sturdy the bed frame is (#whatdatmean).
When you hesitantly mention rent, he waves a hand. “Half’s fine. I’ll pay first and last upfront if you want.”
You stare. “You don’t even know the amount.”
Chan shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got it.” He pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and, before you can protest, your own phone buzzes with a notification.
It’s a Venmo payment for double what you were about to say rent costs.
Your mouth opens, then closes. “You—what? That’s too much.”
“Nah.” He pockets his phone, grinning at your baffled expression. “Consider it a ‘sorry for being weirdly pushy’. ”
You don’t argue. You can’t argue — not when your bank account is currently breathing its first sigh of relief in months.
A girls got priorities, and he doesn't really seem to mind. it's a win win scenario.
~
The first month was… strange. Not bad, just strange. he was genuinely nice, easy to talk to. it wasn't long till the initial awkwardness — if there was any — wore off. you'd become something sort of friends, and both of you settled into a quiet rhythm.
he'd left cash for rent in a neat stack on the kitchen counter on first of the month, slightly more than his half again.
When you tried to give him the extra back, he just waved you off.
You caught glimpses of his routine. disappearing into his room at odd hours, the low murmur of his voice through the walls late at night.
And then there was the day you came home early.
You weren’t supposed to be back until ten, but your shift ended early, and the bus was miraculously on time for once.
The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the door, just the hum of the fridge and the faint creak of the floorboards under your feet.
You’d barely set your bag down when you heard it — a low noise from Chan’s room.
Your fingers froze on the zipper of your jacket. The sound came again, breathier this time, followed by the slick, rhythmic sound of skin on skin.
you thought it was a girlfriend he never told you about.
The idea punched a weird, hollow ache into your ribs — which was stupid, because it’s not like you had any claim on him.
Still, you stood there frozen in the hallway, his door slightly ajar, listening to the sounds of his pleasure like some kind of creep.
You backed out of the apartment, easing the door shut with just the softest whisper of the latch catching. Your pulse hammered in your throat as you ducked into the stairwell, pressing your back against the cool concrete wall.
The rational part of your brain screamed at you to stop being weird, to just walk back in like a normal person. But the irrational part — the part currently in charge — was too busy replaying the sounds spilling from Chan’s room to listen.
You get out of the building and circle the block twice, three times, counting cracks in the sidewalk. The air smells like rain that hasn’t fallen yet, and you bask in that atmosphere till roughly an hour has passed.
When you finally drag yourself back inside, the apartment is quiet. Chan’s door is shut tight, the shower running, and no girlfriend in sight.
she must've left early.
You freeze halfway to your room when the shower shuts off. your feet are planted still go to your room, go to your room
but you weren't quick enough, and a few seconds later, Chan emerges with only a towel slung low on his hips.
He's startled when he sees you, droplets flicking off his hair as he jerks his head up. “oh hey—” His voice is casual before you cut him off, "shit—sorry!" your face heats up at the sight, your eyes wander, trailing down his toned chest that still had water droplets running down, before snapping your head in the other direction.
was he always this muscular?
and you can't help but notice that there are no hickeys on his neck, no marks on his arms, and surprisingly put together for someone who just had his girlfriend over less than an hour ago.
"no no— you're good." he reassures with a smile, "you're back early."
You swallow hard. “Yeah. Shift got cut."
Chan leans against the doorframe, his damp hair curling at the ends. You try not to stare at the way his towel clings precariously to his hips, but your gaze keeps flicking downward anyway, betraying you.
"Everything okay?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.
"Y-yeah," you stammer, fingers twisting in the hem of your jacket. "Just—uh. Busy day."
Chan hums, nodding. His eyes flick over your face, lingering a second too long on your flushed cheeks before he grins. "Cool. I was just gonna make some food if you’re hungry."
The casual offer throws you off. You were expecting — what? Awkward silence? Averted eyes? Not this easy warmth.
but you just nod dumbly. "Yeah. Food sounds good."
he pushes off the doorframe, padding toward the kitchen. The towel rides up slightly with each step, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones, and you have to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a noise.
“You good?” he calls over his shoulder, like he can feel your stare burning into his back.
“Fine,” you squeak, following at a safe distance, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. The kitchen tile is cool under your socked feet, a welcome distraction from the heat crawling up your neck.
Chan hums again, rummaging through the fridge with one hand while the other keeps his towel secured. The muscles in his back flex as he leans forward, and you’re suddenly very interested in the color of your sponge bob socks.
“Leftover pasta okay?” he asks, pulling out a container with a rattle of plastic. You nod mutely, watching as he moves around the kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the tiles.
The stove clicks to life, the hiss of gas filling the silence between you. Chan leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, “So,” he starts, “how was work?”
You blink. “Uh. Fine. Boring.” The words tumble out too fast, your pulse jumping when Chan chuckles. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly you’re hyperaware of every inch of space between you.
he scrapes the leftover pasta into the pan, the sizzle of garlic and butter filling the silence between you. His towel shifts dangerously low with each stir, but he doesn’t seem to notice — or maybe he does.
The corner of his mouth twitches when he catches you staring, and you snap your gaze to the ceiling like it’s suddenly fascinating.
"You know," he says, voice light, "most roommates don’t freak out when they see each other half dressed." The wooden spoon clinks against the pan as he scrapes the edges.
"I wasn’t freaking out."
Chan laughs, "You literally yelped like I pulled a knife on you." He glances over his shoulder, eyes dragging down your body in a way that makes your knees weak. "Unless you’re into that."
The pasta sizzles loudly in the pan, drowning out the choked sound that escapes your throat at Chan’s words. "I—that’s not—"
Chan turns fully now, abandoning the stove, and the towel dips dangerously low. His smirk is infuriating, "Relax," he murmurs, stepping closer, "Just teasing."
You laugh nervously, the sound too high pitched, too obvious. "I'm just gonna—" You jerk your thumb toward your room, already backing away. "Change into something more... home-y."
Chan raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Home-y,"
"yea—!" your voice cracks "y'know comfortable....home clothes"
Then you gesture vaguely at his towel, your voice cracking slightly. "Are you— uh, gonna put on actual clothes before we eat? Because I'm pretty sure health code violations apply to apartments too."
Chan glances down at himself, then back up at you, "Why?" He grins, tilting his head. "Distracted?"
"Yes—no," you sputter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest like armor. "I just don’t want your—" You wave a hand wildly in the general direction of his hips. "That—near my dinner."
Chan laughs, a full blown laugh, and you take that chance to bolt for your room, shoulders hunched as if that’ll make you smaller, less noticeable.
The door clicks shut behind you with a click, and you press your forehead against the cool wood, exhaling sharply.
"And turn the heat down!" you call out, voice too high,"Unless you want to burn the house down!"
Another laugh, muffled through the door. "Yes, mom," Chan drawls, the playful lilt in his voice making your cheeks burn hotter.
The stove clicks as he adjusts the flame, the sound followed by the soft thud of his footsteps padding down the hall. You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to the creak of his bedroom door, the rustle of fabric as he presumably — finally — changes.
You peel yourself off the door, fingers fumbling at the jacket of your shirt. The fabric clings to your skin, damp with nervous sweat, and you wrestle it off.
Home-y. Right. who even says that?
Stupid stupid stupid.
Your dresser drawer sticks halfway open, You grab the first shirt your fingers brush against, soft from too many washes, and a pair of sweatpants with the elastic stretched out.
'He has a girlfriend,' you think, shimmying out of your jeans. The denim catches around your ankles, nearly causing you to trip.
'Probably. Maybe. Who the fuck knows.'
You yank the shirt over your head so hard the neckline stretches. The mirror across the room reflects your flushed face, your hair mussed from the fabric dragging through it.
You look and feel ridiculous.
You pull up your pants, then pause, fingers hovering at the waistband. Avoid him. Simple. Logical. You can do that.
but it wasn't that easy. after all there is only so much avoiding one could do to someone they live with.
The apartment isn’t big enough for elaborate evasion tactics, and Chan seems to have a sixth sense for popping up exactly where you don’t want him.
Leaning against the fridge when you’re raiding it at 2 am, or lounging on the couch just as you’re about to claim it for a late night tv binge.
So you just ended up being cooped in your room for most of the day.
But Chan isn’t stupid. eventually after days passed by, he’s leaning against your bedroom doorframe when you crack it open after what you thought was a safe half hour of silence.
“So,” he says, arms crossed, voice dripping with amusement, “you’re avoiding me.”
You freeze, one socked foot hovering mid step like a cartoon character caught mid sneak. “No,” you lie too quickly.
Chan raises an eyebrow. “You literally just ducked into the bathroom because you heard me coming down the hall.”
“I had to pee.”
“For the fourth time today?” His grin lopsided, “Either you’ve got a UTI, or you’re full of shit.”
You grit your teeth, fingers tightening around the doorknob. “Maybe both.”
he sighs out laugh, then steps closer, “Listen,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a serious tone, “if this is about the whole towel thing—”
“It’s not,” you answer quickly, too loud, too fast.
“So it is about the towel thing.”
“I’m not—” You exhale sharply through your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can you just—” You gesture vaguely at the space between you. “Give me, like, a three foot radius?”
Chan tilts his head, considering. His gaze drags down your body, before settling back on your face. “Nah,” he says finally, “I like you flustered.”
You bite your lip, eyes darting around, then settle on his, before darting around again.
The silence stretches, until you finally crack under the weight of it. “you—don’t you have a girlfriend?” you blurt, the words stumbling out in a rushed, stuttering mess.
Chan blinks, his smirk faltering for half a second before dissolving into genuine confusion. “A what?” His laugh sounds startled, almost disbelieving.
You press your lips together, suddenly regretting every life choice that led you to this moment.
Chan's eyebrows climb toward his hairline, "A girlfriend?" He repeats, "What, like, some theoretical girl who sneaks in when you're not looking?"
You gesture vaguely at him — the tousled hair, the unfairly sculpted shoulders, the effortless charm that clings to him like a second skin.
"You just—seem like the type." The words tumble out half mumbled, your gaze darting anywhere but his face.
Chan’s laughter echoes through the hallway, loud enough that you flinch—not just from the sound, but from the way it makes your stomach flip.
"Oh my god," he wheezes, leaning against the doorframe like he needs the support. "You thought I had some secret girlfriend sneaking in here to—what, fuck me while you're at work?"
You cross your arms tightly, "It's not that ridiculous," you mutter, but even you hear how weak it sounds.
"First of all, if I had a girlfriend, you'd know. I'm not subtle." His smirk tilts into something teasing. "Second, I'm very single. And third—" He pauses, tilting his head. "Wait. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You thought I was getting laid in there and didn't invite you?"
Your face burns. "No—that's not—"
His grin softens slightly, but the teasing glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. "So," he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "what is it, then?"
You swallow hard, fingers gripping the edge of your shirt so tightly the fabric threatens to tear. "Nothing," you lie. "Just—roommate stuff. Boundaries."
Chan hums, "Boundaries," he echoes, Then, "You know you can just tell me if I’m doing something that makes you uncomfortable, right?"
You swallow hard, "Yeah," you mutter, gaze trailing to his eyes and holding his stare for the first time throughout this conversation "I know."
Chan pushes off the doorframe with a shrug, "Alright then," he says, clapping his hands together like he's wiping the whole conversation away. "Takeout time. You in?"
it's like all this man does is think about food...and make you weak in the knees.
You blink, "Uh. Yeah. Sure."
Chan pulls out his phone, already scrolling through delivery apps, "Thai? Or that new Italian place that opened down the street?" He glances up, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Unless you're feeling sushi again, but last time you complained about the wasbi being too strong."
The normalcy of it — the way he remembers your stupid, offhand complaints about condiments — makes something in your chest tighten.
You clear your throat. "Thai’s good."
~
The weirdness fades slowly, chan doesn’t mention the girlfriend comment again, and you stop bolting like a startled deer every time he walks into a room.
He starts leaving his door open when he’s working, the rhythmic tap of his keyboard drifting into the hallway. You catch yourself lingering in the doorway sometimes, watching the way his brow furrows when he’s concentrating, the way he bites his tongue when he’s stuck on something.
once, he catches you staring and pats the space beside him on the bed without looking up from his laptop. “Help me brainstorm this dumb tagline,”
You perch awkwardly at first, careful not to touch him, but Chan sprawls like he owns every inch of the mattress, his thigh pressing warm against yours. and before you know it, you’re leaning into him, pointing at the screen. “That one’s terrible,”
~
Movie nights become a thing.
The first movie night starts by accident — or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. You’re curled into the corner of the couch, knees tucked under your chin, scrolling through your phone while Chan sprawls across the other end, his laptop balanced precariously on his thighs.
Then the Wi-Fi cuts out.
Chan groans, tossing his head back against the cushions. “Fucking landlord,” he mutters, jabbing at his keyboard like it’ll magically fix the connection.
You snort, watching him glare at the screen like it’s personally offended him. “Guess we’re gonna have to talk to each other,”
“Horrifying,” he deadpans, then grabs the remote off the coffee table. “a movie it is.”
You end up with some terrible action movie Chan insists is a “classic,” but neither of you pay much attention. Halfway through, you catch him watching you instead of the screen, his head turning back to the movie when you caught him.
You brush it off, focusing on the screen, but your pulse jumps when Chan shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours.
The credits roll, and he stretches. The couch creaks as he shifts, stretching his arms overhead with a groan that does things to your already frayed nerves.
"Well," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, "that was a cinematic masterpiece."
You snort, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, if you consider explosions and zero plot development masterful storytelling."
Chan’s chuckles “Plot is overrated,” he says, “Sometimes you just wanna watch things blow up.”
Chan then exhales heavily and stands. “Alright, I’m hitting the shower,” he says, stretching until his shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of toned stomach. You look away — too late — and Chan’s smirk is audible in his voice. “Try not to miss me too much.”
“In your dreams,” you mutter, but your pulse jumps when he pauses by the hallway, glancing back over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he says softly, almost to himself. “Exactly.”
You sit there, frozen, until the bathroom door clicks shut and the shower starts running. The sound of water hitting tile fills the apartment, and you press your palms to your overheated cheeks, exhaling sharply.
Stupid. You’re being stupid. That probably didn't mean anything.
But then your phone buzzes on the couch beside you, and Chan’s name lights up the screen.
forgot my towel. mind grabbing it?
You stare at the message, then at the hallway, Trap, your brain supplies helpfully.
type back,
Seriously?
he answers immediately
dead serious. i’m vulnerable here.
You groan, dragging a hand down your face, but you’re already standing. His towel hangs on the back of his bedroom door, You grab it, then walk out to the bathroom.
You knock once, then freeze when Chan calls out, “Just come in.”
Your throat goes dry. “Absolutely not.”
Chan’s laugh echoes off the tiles. “Relax, I’m decent.” A pause. “Mostly.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, then shove the towel through the gap in the door, arm outstretched as far as possible. “Here.”
Chan’s fingers brush yours as he takes the towel. His skin is warm, damp, and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, voice closer than you expected. You can *feel* his smile through the door. “You’re a lifesaver.”
You bolt back to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.
too much for your first movie night.
~
just when things were getting normal, It happens again on a monday.
You’re home early again, the apartment is silent. You toe off your shoes, and you were about to shout a "I'm back" when you heard it again.
Low, breathy moans slipping through the crack in Chan’s door.
Your feet root to the floor, ears straining as the noise curls around you.
His voice, thick with pleasure, murmurs something you can’t quite catch — then a wet, rhythmic sound that sends heat flooding your cheeks.
apparently, this man takes his....alone time very seriously.
that's what it had to be right? you can't blame him — you've been there once or twice.
Your breath sticks in your throat, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. The sound— god, the sound — wraps around you, thick and heady, Chan's voice breaking on a moan that scrapes down your spine.
You should move. should bolt to your room, slam the door, drown it out with headphones. but your feet refuse to cooperate.
You tiptoe into the hallway, his door is cracked just enough, and your pulse hammers so loud its drowning out any other coherent thought in your brain.
A peak wouldn't hurt...
The door creaks faintly as it opens another inch, just enough for you to see.
Chan sits on the edge of his bed, but not like you thought. Not hidden, not private. No, this is something else entirely.
A ring light casts a glow over his bare skin, the camera propped on his desk angled perfectly to capture every inch of him. His laptop screen is open with a reflection of him and a rapid stream of comments too fast to read.
Oh.
Oh god.
Your stomach drops, then tightens all at once.
Chan’s head is tipped back, his throat working around a groan as his hand moves lazily between his thighs.
You press yourself against the hallway wall, pulse hammering, thoughts running a hundred miles per hour.
you did not expect this.
His breath hitches, a sharp, punched out sound, and your nails dig into your palms.
Chan’s fingers twist at the base of his cock, his thumb smearing precum in slow circles. The camera catches the way his abs flex as he arches into his own touch, his voice ragged when he murmurs, "Wish you were here." before he bites down on his lower lip. "Could use a mouth right now."
You watch, frozen in place, as his thighs tremble, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside him. The comments on his screen blur into a frenzy of emojis and a bunch of pinging donations. His breath stutters, his jaw clenching as his strokes turn erratic, desperate. “Yeah,” he gasps, voice breaking, “yeah, just like that—”
Then he comes with a choked moan, stripes of white painting his stomach as his back arches off the bed.
Gosh, he’s gorgeous — and you barely register the dampness between your own thighs until Chan slumps back against the pillows, chest heaving.
Chan exhales sharply, his fingers still lazily stroking his softening cock as he leans forward, just enough to tap something on his laptop.
he ends the stream with a wink and a low, raspy comment that you didn't quite catch. The screen goes black, and you barely have half a second to process the situation before your body kicks into motion.
You bolt down the hallway, socked feet silent against the hardwood.
Your bedroom door clicks shut behind you just as Chan gets up. You press your back against the door, lungs burning from holding your breath, and listen.
Water runs in the sink. A towel rustles. Then you hear footsteps.
They pause outside your door.
You purse your lips and hold your breath. Then Chan hums, before his footsteps retreat down the hall.
You slump against the door, exhaling shakily.
Holy shit.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you fumble to pull it out.
you home early?
You stare at the text, thumbs hovering over the screen. Lie, your brain screams. Tell him no. but then how would you fake going into the apartment if you're already inside the apartment?
Just got back
You hit send before you can second guess it.
Cool. Dinner soon?
Your fingers hover over the screen, the weight of his question pressing against your ribs like a stone. The air in your room feels — too thick — and suddenly the idea of sitting across from Chan at the kitchen table, pretending you didn’t just watch him get off on camera, makes your stomach twist.
Gonna shower first.
Your phone buzzes again before you can even set it down,
Can I join?
You nearly drop it, blood roaring in your ears. Then—
jk. don’t use up all the hot water.
You toss your phone onto your bed and drag a hand down your face with a sigh.
You're deeply fucked.
~
That night, you stayed up aggressively googling him till his page came up.
Onlychans? really?
you'd laugh at the username if it wasn't for the videos that popped up when you clicked on his profile.
Chan, shirtless, sprawled across what is unmistakably your living room couch, one hand lazily palming himself through his sweatpants.
Chan, biting his lip as he slicks lube down his cock, the camera angled to capture every twitch of his abs.
Chan, moaning, his head thrown back against the pillows of his bed —your apartment, your shared space — while his other hand works something thick and glistening into his—
You slam the laptop shut.
Your face burns. Your pulse thrums in your ears. The apartment is silent — Chan’s out for a run, or so he’d claimed when he’d left an hour ago.
You open the laptop again.
It’s Curiosity. That’s all.
It starts innocently enough — just checking his schedule, really. A quick glance at his calendar pinned to the fridge.
"For productivity purposes," Chan had joked when you asked.
Then, sure enough, it spiraled.
You memorize the time of his streams, monday nights, Friday nights, he'd timed them perfectly in sync with times he knew you wouldn't be home. that's why you've been blissfully unaware of him filming in different locations around your shared apartment for the past two and a half months.
And the occasional late night surprise session that leaves you fumbling for your earbuds at 1 am. You'd literally be home, but he'd go live anyway. was he into that?
you were into it too, admittedly, because you turned out to be just as shameful as him.
The notification pops up at 1:47 am on a Wednesday 'Chan is live!' (yes, you turned his notifs on) and your fingers freeze mid doom scroll through Instagram.
your room is dark except for the glow of your phone screen, you're supposed to be asleep.
You tap the notification.
Chan’s face fills the screen, his grin already in place as he adjusts the camera. He’s shirtless, propped against the headboard of his bed, one arm draped lazily over his bent knee. The ring light casts shadows along his abs, highlighting every dip and curve.
"Late night surprise," he murmurs, "*Miss me?*" aaaand heat is already pooling low in your stomach.
His fingers work on hinseld, slow and teasing at first, thumb smearing precum in lazy circles while he talks— god, he sure does talk, filthy praises and half formed fantasies spilling from his lips like he’s whispering them directly into your ear. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, your other hand slipping under the waistband of your pajama shorts.
Chan arches his back on screen, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you guys are greedy tonight," he rasps, stroking himself slowly. His thumb presses against the head on every upstroke, just how you’ve learned he likes it — learned from watching, from nights spent with your phone hidden under your pillow, screen dimmed to its lowest setting.
"Fuck, m'close," Chan groans, your fingers moving between your thighs in time with his rhythm, matching the pace, hips shifting under the sheets, your breath coming shallow.
It’s not the first time you’ve watched him like this, but it’s the first time you’ve done it live, with the shaky thrill of knowing he has no idea you’re here.
A whimper almost escapes you when he swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, his breath hitching. You press your palm over your mouth, stifling the sound.
The last thing you need is him hearing you through the thin walls.
The thought alone, him catching you, realizing, sends a sharp jolt between your legs. You squeeze your thighs together, chasing the feeling before it slips away.
His hand speeds up, the wet sound of his skin moving over his cock muffled only slightly by the mic's noise suppression. "God, fuck—gonna come so hard for you," he grits out, his voice cracking on the last word.
You press your free hand harder against your mouth, fingers digging into your own cheek as you watch his stomach tense, the muscles there flexing under the sheen of sweat. Your own movements stutter when he lets out a low, punched out moan, his hips jerking up into his fist.
You’re so close you can’t think straight. The coil in your stomach winds tighter with every stroke of his hand, every filthy sound he makes, matching his rhythm like you’re desperate to prove something— like if you can just finish at the same time, it’ll mean something. Stupid. It’s stupid. But your hips jerk anyway, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts against your palm.
"Fuck, fuck—" His hand stills suddenly, fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he tips his head back, you watch as his body locks up for one second — and then he’s coming, stripes of white painting his stomach, his chest.
Your own climax crashes over you at the same time, so violently you nearly choke on the gasp you swallow down, your back arching off the bed as pleasure burns through you in hot, dizzying waves.
He’s still catching his breath, his free hand dragging lazily through the mess on his stomach, fingers tracing the lines of cum with a slow, absentminded swipe.
His lips curl into that stupid, effortless smirk you’ve seen a hundred times,
"Mmm, fuck," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, still a little breathless. "You all got me good tonight."
He reaches for a towel off screen, the muscles in his arm flexing as he wipes himself clean. You watch, transfixed, as he tosses the towel aside and leans closer to the camera, cheeks are still flushed, his lashes low.
"Hope that was worth the wait," he says, eyes flickering to the chat before he grins. "gosh you guys are generous with the tips tonight." and you catch a few of the comments.
slave4u: how bout you come and give me that tip
sweetheartonline: gone broke just for you </3
Chan just chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, I’m done. You’re all insatiable." He stretches his arms above his head, his torso arching beautifully, "Next stream’s friday. Be good for me til then, yeah?"
With one last wink, he reaches forward, and the screen goes black.
You yank your earbuds out, Your chest heaves, your skin still buzzing, your thighs still sticky, and you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids until colors bloom behind them.
you find it ridiculous that you're actually enjoying this, perverted thoughts. Stupid. So stupid.
~
Two weeks pass after that. You're hyperaware of Chan’s presence in a way that makes your skin itch. Every casual touch sends sparks skittering up your spine.
You try to act normal, you really do.
But you catch yourself staring at his hands when he cooks, remembering the way they moved over himself on screen, and have to physically shake your head to clear the image.
Chan, for his part, seems to thrive on your discomfort. He leaves his bedroom door cracked just a little wider than necessary, and infuriatingly, he's rarely not shirtless.
it's okay. you're okay. at least you tell yourself that.
till it's Friday morning, marking the beginning of your third month.
the apartment is quiet, still bathed in the soft gold of early morning light filtering through the kitchen window. you hum under your breath as you flip pancakes.
then Chan emerges, shirtless, his sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair still messy from sleep.
He leans against the doorway, watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk. “Morning,” he rasps, voice still thick with sleep.
this feels too domestic for your liking.
“Morning,” you mumble, not turning around.
Chan pads closer, bare feet silent against the hardwood, until he’s right behind you. His warmth radiates against your back, “Smells good,” he murmurs, and you swear his lips brush the shell of your ear.
The spatula clatters against the pan. too domestic.
Chan chuckles, as he reaches around you to steal a piece of pancake from the prepared stack. His chest presses against your shoulder, his skin searing where it touches yours. “Careful,” he teases, popping the bite into his mouth. “You’ll burn them.”
The pancake batter sizzles violently as you stand there, frozen, Chan’s body heat scorching against your back.
His fingers brush your hip as he reaches for the syrup, and you nearly drop the spatula again.
"You’re jumpy this morning," Chan muses, leaning against the counter beside you. "Bad dreams?"
sure, if 'bad' and 'wet' are the same thing. "something like that."
Chan hums, tilting his head as he studies you. "Got plans today?"
You flip another pancake onto the growing stack. "Just groceries later." The words come out steadier than you feel.
His grin grows. "Mind if I tag along?"
You shrug, "It’s just errands."
Chan snags another pancake, leaning into your space until his bare shoulder presses against yours. "Exactly. Sounds thrilling." His fingers brush yours as he steals the spatula, flipping the last pancake with a flick of his wrist. "Come on. I’ll even push the cart."
You huff a laugh despite yourself. "You’ll get bored in five minutes."
"Bet?" He bumps your hip with his, "Loser buys ice cream."
~
The grocery store is exactly as mundane as you predicted, but Chan makes it unbearable in ways you didn’t anticipate — his fingers lingering when he passes you items, his chest pressing against your back in crowded aisles like it’s accidental. By the time you hit the freezer section, your nerves are frayed.
"Pick a flavor," Chan murmurs, chin hooked over your shoulder as he reaches past you to open the glass door. His breath ghosts across your cheek. "I’m feeling generous."
The freezer air hits your face, but it does nothing to cool the heat creeping up your neck. Chan’s arm brushes yours as he leans in, his fingers tracing the edge of a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "This one," he decides, plucking it from the shelf. "tastes like toothpaste sometimes, but eh" he said with a shrug.
You snort, grabbing a classic vanilla, but he plucks it from your hands and replaces it with something absurdly decadent, something with caramel swirls and chocolate chunks.
"Live a little," he grins, tossing it into the cart.
The checkout line is agony. Chan stands close enough that his knuckles keep brushing the small of your back, each touch sending sparks up your spine.
the cashier — an exhausted looking college student — scans everything, he pushed your hand aside when you tried to pay, and handed the cashier his card.
he caried all the groceries too, and swatted your hand away when you try to carry any.
it feels like he's your boyfriend.
The apartment door clicks shut behind you both, grocery bags rustling as Chan kicks off his shoes. You’re still fumbling with the laces of your sneakers when he brushes past you with the plastic bags.
You follow, already going to pull things out and putting them in their designated cupboards, Chan’s already rummaging through to find the ice cream, His grin is wide as he holds it up. "Scoops or straight from the tub?"
"freezer" you deadpan, "it's probably melted by now"
his shoulders slump a little, turning around to place the tubs in the freezer.
"and, scoops," you mutter, "We’re not animals."
he snickers, "Debatable."
Chan nudges the freezer door shut with his hip, the ice cream safely stowed away for later. "Movie night?" he suddenly asks, casual as anything, "Haven't done one in a while."
You nod, "Yeah. Okay."
You retreat to your room to change, fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt before you even reach the door. The fabric sticks to your skin, too warm and you peel it off with a relieved sigh the second you’re alone.
The dresser drawer squeaks as you rummage for shorts and a tank top since its getting too hot, but your hands freeze mid reach when you hear Chan’s door creak open down the hall.
The unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the floor — jeans, probably — makes your throat go dry. You strain to listen, pulse hammering in your ears, as Chan hums under his breath. Something clatters, a belt buckle, and then the soft rustle of fresh clothes being pulled on.
You yank your own shorts up so fast you nearly trip, ears burning. Pathetic.
When you emerge, Chan’s already sprawled across the couch in loose joggers and that stupidly thin white tank top.
"You took forever," Chan drawls from the couch, already eating his way through a popcorn bucket.
"You're picking?" he scoffs, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "After the garbage you called 'cinema' last time?"
You snatch the remote before he can lunge for it. "You picked Twilight unironically last time."
Chan clutches his chest like you've wounded him. "Bella Swan is a cultural icon."
You scoff, scrolling through the options, ignoring Chan's dramatic sigh as he flops back against the cushions. His knee bumps yours, but you don't pull away.
"Fine," he huffs. "But if it's another pretentious indie film where people whisper for two hours, I'm revoking your movie privileges."
"Fine," you grumble back, scrolling past a dozen of said pretentious indie films with moody black and white thumbnails. "But only because I pity your attention span."
Chan's grin is immediate as he stretches an arm along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder.
"pick something with action," then wiggles his eyebrows, "Or nudity."
You elbow him hard in the ribs.
"Ow—," Chan wheezes, but he's laughing, catching your wrist before you can retreat. His fingers are warm and rough against your pulse point, thumb pressing into the flutter there. "Violent and kinky," he muses, tugging you closer until your shoulders press together. "I like it."
You yank your wrist free and snatch up the remote again, scrolling through titles.
Chan's laughter vibrates through the couch cushions as you land on something, anything, just to shut him up. The movie starts with a car chase, tires screeching, glass shattering. Perfect. Loud enough to distract whenever Chan shifts beside you.
"Action and nudity," Chan murmurs, nodding approvingly at the screen where some actor's shirt rips open during a fight scene. "You do know me."
You sink lower into the couch, arms crossed. "Shut up and watch."
The first ten minutes of the movie blur into a haze of gunfire and badly timed one-liners, the volume turned up just loud enough to drown out the way Chan’s fingers keep tracing idle patterns against your shoulder.
You focus resolutely on the screen, but Chan’s warmth beside you is impossible to ignore. His knee presses into yours, his bare arm brushing against yours every time he reaches for more popcorn, and each touch sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.
Then, during a lull in the action, Chan shifts beside you, his hand sliding from your shoulder to the back of your neck. His fingers curl gently into your hair, thumb brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear.
"You’re not even watching," he mmurmur.
You swallow hard, refusing to look at him. "Am too."
Chan hums, unconvinced, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin. "Liar."
His accusation hangs between you, thick and charged, and suddenly the movie feels like background noise.
His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, tipping your head back just enough that you have no choice but to meet his gaze.
His eyes are dark, there’s no teasing smirk now, no playful glint — just hunger.
Your breath hitches audibly.
Chan’s thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me to stop."
You don’t.
His lips crash into yours before you can form a coherent thought, the remote clattering to the floor as your hands fist in his shirt.
Chan groans into your mouth, fingers tightening in your hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with so much desperation.
The movie drones on, but all you can feel is the way his hips jerk forward against yours as you press closer. His hands slide down to grip your waist, hauling you halfway into his lap without breaking the kissl.
"You’ve been driving me insane," Chan pants against your lips, one hand slipping under your shirt to trace the dip of your spine. "Watching me, pretending you weren’t—fuck—" His words dissolve into a groan when you grind down against him, the hard line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh.
He knows you know. he has all this time. The realization makes your eyes widen slightly—but it doesn’t surprise you. Not really.
Not when Chan’s fingers tighten possessively around your hips, his teeth scraping your lower lip like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.
His palm slides up your ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your thin tank top, and your breath stutters against his mouth.
Of course he knew. The cracked doors, the late night streams he timed too perfectly with your schedule. Those weren't just coincidences.
You pull back just enough to see his face, your eyes wide with the realization that just dawned on you.
his lips are swollen from your kisses, panting, “Surprise,” he rasps, voice wrecked.
Chan’s grip shifts, hauling you fully into his lap, and you gasp when his hardness presses against you. His chuckle vibrates through your chest as he rolls his hips up, slow and filthy. “Thought you’d never crack,” he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw.
Your hands fist in his tank top, the fabric damp with sweat where it clings to his chest. “You—asshole” you pant, hips jerking against his involuntarily. “All that teasing—”
Chan's grin widens "All what teasing?" he murmurs, pressing an open mouthed kisses to your neck. "You mean leaving my door open just a little too wide?"
His teeth scrape your skin, "Or maybe streaming at exactly the times I knew you'd be home?" His palm cups your breast through your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple.
You gasp when he pinches lightly, hips jerking against his. "You're insane," you manage, though the words come out more breathless than angry.
Chan laughs against your throat, before his teeth sink into the tender skin just below your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders as his hands slide down to grip your hips, guiding your movements as you grind against him. The friction is dizzying, the thin fabric of your shorts doing nothing to dull the heat of him pressed against you.
"Insane?" His breath is hot against your damp skin. "Baby, aren't the one who watched my streams every other night?" His fingers slip under the hem of your tank top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with maddening slowness.
You whine, the sound high and desperate in your throat, and nod before you can think better of it. The admission burns your cheeks, but the way Chan groans against your skin makes it worth it.
"yeah?" he rasps, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.
Chan’s fingers flex against your waist, his breath hot against your lips. “Every fucking time,” he admits, voice rough “I’d pretend it was your hand on me,” His thumb presses into the dip of your hipbone, “Your mouth.” His gaze drops to your parted lips, then back up, heavy lidded. “You have no idea how many times I came thinking about you watching me.”
Chan exhales sharply, his nose brushing yours. “cancelled tonight’s stream,” he murmurs, lips grazing yours with every word. “would rather beg you to fuck me instead.” His palm slides up your ribcage, fingers tracing the edge of your bra through your tank top.
“You don’t have to beg,” you murmur, lips brushing his as you swing your leg off his lap. Chan exhales sharply, hands gripping your waist tighter like he’s afraid you’ll pull away entirely, but then you’re sliding to your knees between his legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers.
His breath catches when you tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and leaking against his stomach.
gosh he's even bigger than he looks on camera.
Chan's breath stutters when your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking into your grip before he can stop himself. "Fuck—" His voice cracks, a hand flying to fist in your hair as you stroke him slow, watching the way his eyelids flutter.
He's hot and heavy in your palm, already slick at the tip, and the way his thighs tense when you swipe your thumb over the head is obscene.
Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair when your lips brush the head of his cock, his breath stuttering out in a ragged groan. “Fuck—fuck—” His hips jerk up instinctively, but you pull back just enough to tease, swirling your tongue over the tip without taking him deeper, and you can’t resist glancing up through your lashes to watch his face twist with pleasure.
“So loud,” you giggle, blowing a slow breath over the wetness you’ve left behind. Chan’s thighs tense under your palms. “All those streams,” you continue, stroking him lazily with one hand while the other traces the vein running along his length, “and you never moaned like this.”
Chan’s laugh comes out strained, his chest heaving. “it wasn't you,” he grits out, hips rolling up into your touch. His fingers tug at your hair, guiding you back to him with a quiet desperation that sends heat pooling low in your stomach. “Now stop teasing—”
You swallow him down before he can finish, humming around him just to feel the way his whole body jerks. His moan is filthy, unfiltered, his hips canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like he can’t help it.
You take him deeper, throat working around him, and Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair, not guiding, just holding on for dear life.
“god—” His voice cracks when you hollow your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock. His other hand fists the couch cushion beside his thigh, knuckles going white. “So good—shit—you take me so fucking good—”
You pull off with a slick pop, lips brushing the flushed tip as you peer up at him, teasing, thumb swiping over the bead of precome gathered there.
Chan’s chest heaves, his abs flexing as he stares down at you, His grip in your hair tightens just enough to sting — a silent warning — but you just grin and duck back down, sucking him deep until his thighs tremble.
Chan curses, his hips lifting off the couch as you bob your head, the wet sounds obscenely loud even with the movie still playing forgotten in the background.
“Gonna—” He's cut off by his own gasp, “Gonna come if you keep—”
You pull off with a wet sound, lips slick and swollen, and replace your mouth with both hands, jerking him so fast his hips stutter off the couch, his breath coming in ragged, punched out gasps.
“Wait—fuck—” Chan chokes out, fingers scrambling at your shoulders, but it’s too late — his back arches off the cushions, muscles locking tight as he spills hot over your fingers and his own stomach.
His thighs shake under your palms, his cock twitching in your grip as you stroke him through it, slower now, milking every last drop until he’s whimpering and oversensitive, his hands weakly pushing at your wrists.
“Turn around,” Chan rasps, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers slide from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your spit slick bottom lip. “Want you riding me.”
Your stomach flips at the command, but before you can move, Chan’s hands are gripping your waist, hauling you up onto the couch with surprising strength. He settles you over his lap in one smooth motion, your thighs bracketing his hips, and the sudden press of his bare skin against yours makes you gasp.
Chan groans, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he leans back to look at you, really look at you, his gaze dragging down your body with a hunger that makes your skin prickle.
he hooks a thumb into the waistband of your shorts and tugs, sliding them off, his breath hitching when he finds you already soaked through your panties.
"Fuck," he exhales, dragging the damp fabric aside with one finger, his touch featherlight as he traces your slit. His other hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you down until your foreheads touch, his breath mingling with yours. "You're so wet," he murmurs, voice rough with disbelief. "Just from sucking me off?"
You nod, hips canting into his touch shamelessly, his finger circles your clit —once, twice, before dipping lower, sliding into you, crooking just right to make your back arch. His free hand fists in your tank top, dragging you closer until your chest presses against his, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden against him.
His thumb pressing firm circles against your clit, and your vision whites out for a second — just long enough to miss the way his free hand fists in your tank top, yanking it up until the fabric bunches just above your chest. His mouth replaces his fingers, teeth scraping over your nipple through the lace of your bra, and you gasp, hips stuttering against his hand.
“Thought about this,” he pants against your skin, his tongue lapping at the wet spot he’s left behind. “Every goddamn stream—imagined you like this, wet and desperate for me.” His finger curls again, dragging a broken moan from your throat, and his grin is all teeth when he leans back to watch you unravel. “Knew you’d be prettier than I imagined.”
You grab his wrist, stilling his movements, and his brows furrow — confused, frustrated — until you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap properly this time. His cock, half hard again, twitches against your thigh as you grind down, the friction drawing a ragged groan from both of you.
Chan’s hands fly to your hips, guiding your movements as you rock against him, his breath hot against your collarbone.
“Wanna feel you,” you murmur, fingers fumbling between you to grip him, slicking him up with your own arousal. Chan’s head falls back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you line him up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
You sink down onto him with a choked gasp, thighs trembling as he stretches you open inch by agonizing inch. Chan’s hands clamp around your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, but he doesn’t rush you —just watches as you take him deeper.
"Fuck," you whimper, nails scraping his shoulders when he bottoms out, your body shuddering at the unfamiliar stretch. "You’re—god—you’re so big—"
Chan groans, hips twitching beneath you, fighting not to thrust up. "Yeah?" His voice is wrecked, breath hitching as you clench around him. "Feel good, baby? Stuffed full of me?" His fingers trail up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts while you adjust. "taking me so good."
You roll your hips experimentally, and Chan’s head thuds back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "That’s it," he rasps, hands sliding to grip your ass. "Use me—ride me just like you imagined."
The words send heat flaring up your neck, but you can’t deny them, can’t stop the way your body responds, hips rolling in slow circles. Chan hisses between his teeth when you clench around him, his fingers flexing against your skin.
"Christ—fuck—you’re so tight," he grits out, eyes locked on where you’re joined. "Bet you thought about this every night, hmm? Watching me stroke my cock on cam while you fucked yourself on your fingers?"
You whimper, thighs quivering as you lift yourself halfway up before sinking back down, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. his breath stutters, his hips jerking up to meet you halfway, and the sudden shift punches a ragged moan from your throat. "Oh fuck—Chan—"
"Say it," he demands, thumb brushing your clit as you bounce in his lap. His voice is rough, wrecked, his pupils blown wide, "Tell me how much you thought about this, how many times you came imagining me inside you."
You gasp when he pinches your clit lightly, your rhythm faltering, "Every—ah—every night," you admit, nails digging into his shoulders as you grind down harder. "Watched you—touched myself—god, wanted you—"
Chan groans, fingers tightening on your hips as he guides your movements, thrusting up to meet you. "Knew it," he pants, lips brushing yours with every ragged breath.
"Knew you were getting off to me—fuck—your little gasps when I’d look at the camera—" His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing your nipples through your bra. "Bet you came so pretty for me, huh? All quiet so I wouldn’t hear?"
You nod frantically, hips stuttering as his cock hits that spot inside you, the pleasure building dangerously fast. "Y-yes—*fuck*—Chan, please—"
"Please what?" he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk even as his own breathing falters. He slows your movements deliberately, dragging you through each excruciatingly slow roll of your hips. "Need me to fuck you harder, baby?"
You whine, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to chase your own rhythm, but his grip on your hips is unrelenting. "Yes—god, yes—"
he flips you onto your stomach before you can finish begging, his hands rough and sure as he shoves your knees apart against the couch cushions. The fabric burns against your bare thighs when he yanks your hips back, his cock sliding out of you with a slick sound that makes your face burn.
You barely have time to whimper before his fingers dig into your waist, lifting you on all fours with a sharp tug — his chest presses hot against your back, his breath ragged in your ear as he lines himself up again.
he doesn’t give you a second to adjust. He slams into you with one brutal thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your elbows buckle against the cushions. His cock stretches you open deeper than before, the angle hitting deeper, and you choke on a scream when his hips snap forward again, setting a punishing pace before you can catch your breath.
Hands clamp around your hips, fingers bruising as he drags you back onto him with every thrust. The couch creaks beneath you, the sound drowned out by chan’s ragged groans and the slick slap of skin on skin. His rhythm is merciless, no teasing now, just pure, desperate need as he fucks into you like he’s been starving for it.
Chan's grip on your hips shifts — one hand sliding up to fist in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine bows beautifully beneath him. "Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice rough with something between awe and hunger as he takes in the sight of you spread out beneath him.
His fingers tighten, pulling just enough to make your scalp prickle, before his palm cracks down against your ass, the sound echoing through the room louder than the forgotten movie still playing in the background.
You gasp, thighs trembling as the heat blooms across your skin, but Chan doesn’t give you a second to recover. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that has your nails scrabbling against the couch cushions for purchase. "Take it," he orders, voice wrecked, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "God, you feel so good—clenching around me like—" His words dissolve into a groan as he picks up the pace, each thrust punching a ragged sound from your throat.
His free hand slides around your waist, pressing firm circles against your clit, and the dual sensation has your vision blurring at the edges. "That’s it," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his rhythm falters for just a second, "Gonna make you come just like this—spread out, taking me so well—"
His thumb presses harder against your clit, and your back arches involuntarily, a broken moan tearing from your lips as the pleasure crests suddenly, violently.
Chan curses, his grip tightening as you clench around him, your body shuddering through the waves of it. "Yeah, there you go, gonna cum for me?"
You nod vigorously, your fingers twisting into the couch cushions as Chan’s thrusts turn erratic, his breath ragged against your ear. "Cum with me," he rasps, and it’s all you need.
Your body clenches around him like a vice, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense your vision whites out for a second. Chan groans, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a broken gasp, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.
Chan pulls out slowly, hissing through his teeth when you clench around him reflexively, oversensitive.
The couch cushions are damp beneath your trembling thighs, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat as you collapse onto your stomach, chest heaving. Chan exhales sharply, running a hand down your spine, before flipping you onto your back, more gently this time.
The shift makes you wince, your body still thrumming with aftershocks, he slides off the couch onto his knees between your legs. His palms skate up your inner thighs, spreading them apart with slowly despite your weak protest. "Shh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. "Just wanna taste you."
You squirm when his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin, but Chan’s grip tightens, holding you open. "Chan—" His name comes out hoarse, your voice wrecked. "I’m—ah—too sensitive—"
Chan’s fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open despite your squirming. His tongue flicks over your clit, just enough to make your hips jerk, oversensitive and trembling.
“You can take it,” he murmurs against your skin, “You’re a big girl, yeah?” His teeth graze your inner thigh, before his mouth closes over you again, and your back arches off the couch with a choked gasp.
You can take it. You do.
Every swipe of his tongue sends sparks shooting up your spine, your fingers twisting into his hair — not to pull him away, but to keep him right there, his mouth working you through the dizzying aftershocks of your orgasm.
Chan hums against you, the vibration making your toes curl, and his grip on your thighs tightens when you try to press them together instinctively. “None of that,” he chides, nipping at your skin before dragging his tongue up your slit again, “Just let me have you.”
You whine, hips caving into his mouth despite the oversensitivity, the pleasure tipping into something almost painful, but you don’t tell him to stop. Couldn’t if you wanted to.
"so sweet," he groans against you, the words vibrating through your oversensitive nerves. His fingers dig into your hips, pinning you down when you try to squirm away from the intensity. "No— stay still."
You whimper, but obey, letting him spread you wider as his tongue delves deeper, circling your entrance before dragging back up in one long, torturous lick.
"Chan—please—" you gasp, but you’re not even sure what you’re begging for — him to stop or never, ever stop.
His response is to hook your leg over his shoulder, angling you deeper into his mouth, and then he’s sucking you in, his tongue working you with precision. You sob his name, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the pressure builds again, too soon, too much—
You choke out his name, fingers scrambbling at his shoulders, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, before your hips jerk violently against his mouth.
“Chan, gonna—oh god—” The warning spills out brokenly, your thighs clamp around his head as you come with a shuddering gasp, your back bowing off the couch as pleasure rips through you.
he groans against you, the vibration wringing another broken sound from your throat, he doesn’t pull away, just laps at you greedily, his tongue dragging through the mess you’ve made of him with slow strokes.
“Fuck,” he rasps against your skin before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “You’re perfect like this.” His thumb brushes your clit once, testing, and you jerk with a gasp, your body still thrumming with aftershocks.
Chan grins up at you, all dark eyes and swollen lips, before dragging his tongue up your slit one last time.
Chan rises from between your thighs with a groan, his lips slick and glistening with you, you realize with a jolt — before his mouth crashes into yours, the kiss filthy and possessive, his tongue licking into your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, sticky with sweat, and he moans into your mouth when you tug — sharp, just to feel him shudder.
You pull away eventually, both of you panting, sticky with sweat and other things, and collapse onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. Chan drags you half on top of him, your head resting against his chest where you can hear his heartbeat still racing beneath his skin.
His fingers trace idle patterns along your back, the movie’s credits roll, forgotten, casting flickering shadows across the ceiling.
You nuzzle into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat slowing down, the rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. His skin is warm and slightly sticky, and you press a kiss to it without thinking, smiling when his fingers pause for a second before resuming their path along your spine.
"Quit staring," you murmur, tilting your head up just enough to catch him watching you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. soft, almost awed, Chan huffs a laugh, his thumb brushing your hipbone where he’d gripped hard enough to leave marks earlier.
"Can’t help it," he admits, voice rough with exhaustion "You’re kinda fucking gorgeous like this."
You snort, but your cheeks heat anyway, and Chan’s grin widens when he notices. He shifts beneath you, rolling just enough to tuck you more firmly against his side, his arm a solid weight across your waist.
The movement makes you wince, your thighs ache in a way that’s equal parts delicious and punishing, and Chan’s fingers tighten reflexively, his smirk turning smug.
"Sorry," he lies, and you bite on his shoulder just to hear him yelp.
his yelp dissolves into laughter, his fingers digging into your sides as he squirms away from your teeth. “Fuck, ow,” he complains, but his grin ruins the effect, “You bite hard—should’ve known you’d be a menace.”
You grin against his shoulder, pressing another kiss to the reddening mark you left behind. “Payback,” you murmur, tracing the outline with your tongue just to feel him shiver. Chan groans, his hips jerking reflexively beneath you, and you freeze when you feel him stirring against your thigh—already half hard again.
“Seriously?” you ask, incredulous, and Chan has the audacity to look proud, his smirk widening as he rolls his hips up against you.
“What?” he teases, voice dripping with false innocence. “Can’t help it—you’re right there, all warm and fucked out—” His hand slides down your back, fingers skimming the curve of your ass before squeezing lightly. “And you bit me. That’s basically foreplay.”
You press a hand to Chan’s chest when he tries to roll you beneath him again, your thighs still trembling from the last round. “Shower,” you mumble, and Chan makes a wounded noise against your collarbone in protest.
“Five more minutes,” he tries, lips trailing up your neck like he’s trying to convince you with his mouth.
You laugh, breathless, and squirm out of his grip before he can distract you properly. “No—shower,” you insist, swatting at his hands when they try to drag you back. “We’re disgusting.”
Chan pouts — actually pouts, like this big hunk of a man didn't just fuck the daylights out of you — and flops back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, but his eyes track your every movement as you stand, snickering when you wobble slightly on unsteady legs.
You stumble towards the bathroom, then you glance back at Chan, sprawled across the couch with his arms behind his head, watching you with that stupid, smug grin, and ask, "When’s your next stream again?"
his grin falters into confusion when your question registers. "Monday," he says automatically, his brows furrowing, "Why?"
You hum, "Just thinking," then you shrug, "maybe I’ll join you next time."
he's caught off guard when you leave him hanging and close the bathroom door behind you, "don't start something you can't finish!"
Summary: Yoongi accidentally causes internet chaos during a concert in Mexico, then calls you right after just to get teased for it. Somewhere between embarrassing fancams, late-night flirting, and a random colorful skull from a market, long distance suddenly feels a little harder than usual.
Status: Oneshot
Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 4.4k~
Genre: Idol!AU, Fluff
Rated: T
Tags: Boyfriend!Yoongi, Secret, Slice of Life, LDR
Posting Date: May 17, 2026
SCC: Ko-fi ☕️ ・ Taglist 📝
That night, Seoul was at its coldest. Light rain had been falling since the afternoon, making the apartment air feel cool and cozy. You had already showered, wearing one of Yoongi’s oversized shirts that somehow had been staying in your closet more often than in his own lately. Your hair was still a little damp when you climbed onto the sofa carrying a thin blanket and a glass of iced americano with almost-melted ice.
The TV had actually been playing a drama for a while, but you weren’t really watching it. Your focus was only on mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. Your FYP that night was completely random—people reviewing spicy food, Jungkook gym edits, videos of angry cats getting bathed.
Until suddenly…
A concert video.
The lights were insanely bright. Fans screaming loud enough to burst your ears even through your phone speaker.
And in the middle of the screen—
Yoongi.
You automatically stopped scrolling.
His hair was soaked with sweat, his breathing still visibly heavy after performing. He was wearing a thin white tank top underneath and a black outer jacket that had already fallen halfway open. His face was red from the heat and exhaustion, but he still looked absurdly handsome in the most annoying way possible.
The caption said:
“HE ACCIDENTALLY TOOK OFF EVERYTHING 😭”
Your eyebrow instantly lifted.
“Hah?”
The video kept playing.
Yoongi was seen pulling off his jacket from behind his neck, probably because he was hot. But somehow, the inner shirt got dragged up with it.
And a split second later—
The entire venue literally exploded.
“KYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAA—”
The fans’ screams cracked from how loud they were.
The camera recording immediately shook violently. Someone dropped their phone downward. Someone else only recorded the venue ceiling because they got too hysterical.
Meanwhile Yoongi…
His expression was priceless.
He instantly stopped moving, blankly staring for one second like his brain was buffering, then quickly pulled his shirt back down while laughing shyly.
You immediately covered your mouth.
Then burst out laughing alone in the living room.
“OH MY GOD.”
Replay.
Replay again.
And the more you replayed it, the funnier it got because he genuinely looked like it was completely accidental. Even the member next to him turned around with a shocked-but-laughing expression.
The next TikTok appeared from another angle.
One zoomed in on Yoongi’s face.
One was in slow motion.
One used dramatic Titanic music.
Another one had the caption:
“Mexico survived earthquakes but not this.”
You practically collapsed against the sofa laughing.
“Poor him…”
But you still replayed it again.
Honestly, it wasn’t just funny.
Yoongi looked way too good there.
That white tank top clung to him because of the sweat. His arms were full of veins after performing. His black hair fell slightly onto his forehead. And his embarrassed, panicked expression somehow made everyone lose their minds even more.
Your phone even started constantly buzzing.
The BTS group chat instantly became chaotic.
Jimin:
hyung trending 😭😭😭
Hoseok:
I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAKE OFF YOUR JACKET ON STAGE
Jungkook:
Mexico will never move on
Namjoon:
internet is gone
You laughed again while screenshotting several videos.
Then without thinking, you opened Yoongi’s chat.
For a few seconds you were still smiling to yourself before finally typing.
You:
[5 screenshots]
Congratulations
Typing…
Typing stopped.
Typing again.
Yoongi:
I want to disappear
You immediately laughed again.
You:
No seriously 😭
This is so funny
Yoongi:
I just wanted to take off my jacket
You:
And accidentally took off your dignity too
Read.
No reply for a few seconds.
Then—
Yoongi:
You’re enjoying this way too much huh
You:
Very much
Yoongi:
Mean
You:
An entire stadium screamed like they got jumpscared
Yoongi:
I was shocked too
You:
Your face was so funny 😭😭😭
You replayed the video again while grinning to yourself.
Especially the part where Yoongi immediately pulled his shirt back down with an expression like “what the hell just happened?”
You even zoomed in on a certain screenshot.
Oh.
Oh no.
His arms were insane though.
Without realizing it, you took another screenshot.
You:
Btw are your arms even legal?
Yoongi took longer to reply this time.
Maybe he was showering. Maybe eating. Or maybe regretting his life because the entire internet was now filled with fancams of him.
Finally the chat bubble appeared again.
Yoongi:
Are you thirst tweeting now too?
You:
I’m a victim of the timeline
Yoongi:
Delete TikTok
You:
Can’t
The entertainment tonight is too good
Yoongi:
I’m tired
You:
But handsome
Read.
No reply for about a minute.
Then suddenly your phone screen showed an incoming video call.
You instantly laughed before answering.
The moment it connected, Yoongi’s face immediately filled the screen.
His hair was still slightly wet after showering. He was now wearing a loose black shirt with the collar hanging lower on one side. His skin was still slightly flushed from the concert and hot shower. He sat leaning against the hotel sofa while staring at you with a tired face.
“Just keep laughing.”
The second you heard his raspy post-performance voice, you laughed even harder.
“Sorry—really sorry but this is genuinely funny…”
Yoongi closed his eyes briefly while letting out a long sigh.
“I opened my phone and it was pure chaos.”
“Well that’s your fault.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“You know people are saying Mexico lost their minds tonight?”
“I want to uninstall the internet.”
You were still smiling widely while staring at the screen.
And damn it, the more you looked at him now, the more you kept thinking about him earlier on stage.
Sweaty. Heavy breathing. Tense arms.
God.
Yoongi watched your face for a few seconds.
Then the corner of his lips lifted slightly.
“Oh.”
“What oh.”
“So you were freaking out too apparently.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I was just surprised.”
“How many times did you replay it?”
You instantly went silent.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Exactly.”
“…a few.”
“How many is a few?”
“Well… several.”
“You took screenshots too.”
Your eyes widened immediately.
“How do you know?!”
“I can tell from your face.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“You look guilty.”
You let out a small huff while leaning back against the sofa again.
Yoongi watched you with a faint smile. Even exhausted like that, he still had energy to tease you.
“You seriously…” you muttered quietly.
“What?”
“You made an entire country hysterical.”
“One country is exaggerating.”
“No it’s not. Their screaming was terrifying.”
Yoongi just laughed softly.
And oh my god, that soft laugh.
You hated how easily he made your heart feel weird just from his voice alone.
“You need to see the edits now,” you said while reopening TikTok. “Someone already made a slow motion version.”
“Don’t show me.”
“Too late.”
You played one video.
The second the hysterical fan screams blasted from your phone, Yoongi immediately covered his face with one hand.
“OH MY GOD.”
You burst out laughing again.
“Your expression is so funny!”
“I’m genuinely embarrassed.”
“It’s rare seeing you this embarrassed.”
“Because it wasn’t intentional.”
“You literally buffered on stage.”
“I panicked.”
“It showed.”
Yoongi sighed deeply while sinking further into the hotel sofa.
His shirt shifted slightly higher around the sleeves.
And you… unconsciously glanced again.
Yoongi noticed.
Very noticed.
“What are you doing?”
“Hm?”
“You keep staring.”
“I’m not.”
“You think I don’t know?”
You instantly got flustered.
“Fine, maybe a little.”
“You said it was funny.”
“It is funny.”
“So what is it now?”
You bit your lip briefly before quietly answering,
“…handsome too.”
Yoongi went silent for a few seconds.
Then he smiled very slightly.
A thin smile.
The kind that made your heart melt because he genuinely looked happy hearing it.
“You make me feel confident so easily.”
“Hey don’t get too confident.”
“Why?”
“Or you’ll intentionally take your shirt off at concerts.”
He immediately laughed.
“I’m not that bad.”
“You sure?”
“You’ve already seen it plenty of times too.”
And like someone pressed pause—
You instantly froze.
“…what?”
Yoongi casually leaned back while looking at you.
“Why are you pretending to be shocked now?”
“MIN YOONGI.”
“What?”
“That’s a different context.”
“What’s the difference?”
“AN ENTIRE STADIUM SAW THIS.”
“But who sees it the most often?”
Your cheeks instantly heated up.
“That’s not the point—”
“You literally sleep hugging me every night.”
“STOP.”
“And now you’re embarrassed?”
You immediately covered your face with a sofa pillow while groaning in embarrassment.
Yoongi just laughed victoriously from the other side.
“Finally embarrassed too.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You started it earlier.”
“But now you’re doing it on purpose!”
“Hm.”
“What do you mean hm.”
“It’s cute seeing you flustered.”
You peeked from behind the pillow.
Yoongi was still smiling faintly while watching you. His face looked far more relaxed now compared to the beginning of the call.
And strangely enough, you really loved being the reason he relaxed after a long concert like this.
“You’re really tired huh?” you finally asked, your voice softer.
Yoongi nodded slightly.
“A little.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yeah.”
“Drink water?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Yoongi.”
He laughed softly again.
“I drank.”
You watched his face for a few seconds.
His eyes were slightly red from exhaustion. His voice sounded heavier too. But he still called you just because you teased him about that stupid wardrobe malfunction earlier.
Your chest warmed on its own.
“You should sleep later,” you said quietly.
“Later.”
“Don’t keep saying later.”
He looked at you for a moment.
Then quietly said,
“I miss you.”
Your expression instantly softened.
“…it’s only been a week.”
“Long.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“Yeah.”
You smiled faintly.
And for a few seconds, you just stared at each other through the screen, both exhausted but comfortable.
Until Yoongi finally spoke again casually,
“But seriously.”
“Hm?”
“You were more excited than the Mexico fans.”
You instantly glared.
“Because that’s my boyfriend.”
“Oh so you were jealous?”
“A little.”
“Aigoo…”
“What do you mean aigoo.”
“You’re cute.”
“Not cute.”
“You’re jealous over an accidental shirt slip.”
“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”
“Because it is funny.”
You huffed in embarrassment.
And Yoongi, who had looked half-dead exhausted this whole time, just smiled even softer while quietly saying,
“The one who sees the most is still you anyway.”
You immediately collapsed backward onto the sofa while covering your face.
“OH MY GOD MIN YOONGI.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
You were still lying flat on the sofa with your face covered by a pillow, while Yoongi’s soft laughter kept coming from your phone speaker.
Satisfied laughter. The kind of laughter from someone who realized he had successfully made his girlfriend malfunction.
“Get up.”
“No.”
“Why are you so embarrassed?”
“Because you said it like that!”
“But it’s true.”
You lowered the pillow slightly, glaring at the screen.
“Yoongi.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t flirt when your face still looks like this after a concert.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Why?”
“Dangerous.”
That smile immediately appeared again. Small, crooked, annoying.
“I’m literally just sitting here.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.”
Yoongi laughed softly while resting his head against the hotel sofa. The dim room lighting made the lines of his face look even sharper. His black hair was still slightly damp and falling over his forehead in a way that looked way too good for someone claiming to be exhausted.
And the thing making your heart race the most— He looked so comfortable right now. Relaxed. Soft. But his eyes hadn’t left you this entire time.
“You seriously…” you muttered quietly while avoiding his gaze, “you just caused internet chaos and still have time to tease me.”
“Because I miss you.”
His answer came too fast. Too honest. Your heart instantly skipped weirdly.
“You usually get clingy when you’re tired,” you said, trying to sound casual.
“And?”
“And right now I can’t hug you.”
Yoongi went quiet for a moment.
His expression immediately softened a little more.
“I know.”
The atmosphere suddenly became calmer.
You were already used to tour schedules. Used to video calls from different countries. Used to falling asleep on call until one of you passed out first.
But somehow this time felt different.
Maybe because Yoongi’s schedule was too packed. Maybe because you had gotten too used to being close before he left. Or maybe because right now he was looking at you like that while seeming like he really wanted to come home.
“You know,” he suddenly said, his voice low and raspy, “right after the concert, the first thing I did was check my phone for your message.”
You instantly looked back at the screen.
“Seriously?”
“Hm.”
“Why?”
“I already knew you’d make fun of me.”
You laughed softly.
“And you still looked for it.”
“Because I missed you.”
God. You genuinely couldn’t handle it when he suddenly got soft like this. Especially when he followed it up with a tiny smile while secretly staring at you.
“Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
“You make it hard to sleep.”
“I haven’t even started yet.”
You instantly froze.
“What do you mean you haven’t started?”
He casually shrugged a little.
“You said I was flirting earlier.”
“And?”
“But I was just acting normal.”
Your cheeks instantly heated up again.
“Okay then don’t start.”
“What if I do?”
“MIN YOONGI.”
He laughed softly again. Not loudly, but low enough to make your stomach feel weird. Then he moved slightly closer to the camera. And god. That was a terrible mistake.
Because now his face completely filled your phone screen.
“You know what the funniest part earlier was?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“You got possessive immediately.”
“I was not possessive.”
“You literally said ‘that’s my boyfriend.’”
“Well he is.”
“And then you got jealous.”
“A little.”
“You really like me huh.”
You instantly glared in embarrassment.
“Overconfident.”
“But it's true.”
You let out a long sigh while covering half your face with the blanket. Yoongi watched you with a faint smile.
“Cute.”
“Don’t call me cute.”
“Why?”
“It just makes me more annoyed.”
“But you’re smiling.”
You reflexively touched your lips.
Damn it.
He was right.
Yoongi instantly looked satisfied.
“I know your expressions by heart.”
“You don’t need to know them by heart.”
“Too late.”
A few seconds later the atmosphere became quiet again. You could hear the hotel AC from his side. Occasionally there were distant sounds from the hallway, but other than that there was only the sound of your breathing.
Yoongi looked really exhausted now. His eyes were half-lidded. His loose black shirt slipped slightly off his shoulder when he moved. And unfortunately it made you remember the earlier video again.
Yoongi noticed again. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re spacing out.”
“I just remembered earlier.”
“Which earlier?”
“You know which one.”
He smiled faintly.
“Oh. The Mexico incident.”
“Don’t call it an incident like it’s a scandal.”
“It felt like one.”
“The internet literally lost its mind.”
“You did too.”
You sighed softly.
“Well how was I supposed to react…”
“Hm?”
“You earlier were…”
You stopped yourself.
Yoongi waited.
And somehow that was worse than if he pushed you.
Because he just quietly stared at you, making you even more nervous.
“What?” he asked again softly.
“…hot.”
Yoongi immediately tried to hold back a smile.
“Oh?”
“Don’t get too confident yet.”
“But you called me hot.”
“You are hot.”
He finally let out a small laugh.
“Wow.”
“You’re not fair.”
“Why?”
“You know exactly what your post-concert face does to people.”
“What does it do?”
“Yoongi.”
“Answer first.”
You covered your face again.
Which only amused him more.
“Aigoo…”
“Stop laughing.”
“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“And you’re so evil when you miss me.”
Yoongi went quiet for a moment.
Then with a lower, softer voice—
“I really do miss you badly right now.”
Your heart instantly dropped. The way he said things like that was always dangerous. Not excessive. Not dramatic. But because his tone stayed calm, it somehow felt more real.
“When are you coming home?” you asked softly.
“Still a few more weeks.”
You instantly pouted.
“That’s too long.”
“Hm.”
“I hate long distance.”
“Me too.”
Yoongi slowly rubbed his face before looking at you again.
“That’s why when I get home later, don’t complain.”
“Why do I suddenly feel nervous?”
“You’re the one who called me hot earlier.”
“I REGRET SAYING THAT.”
He laughed again.
“You can’t take it back.”
“Yes I can.”
“No you can’t.”
“You’re annoying.”
“But you miss me.”
You stayed quiet. Because he was right. And Yoongi knew you too well to the point where he could already see the answer before you even said it.
He leaned back again while staring at the screen for a few seconds. Then casually said,
“After the tour, I probably won’t let go of you.”
Your heart dropped.
“Yoongi…”
“Hm?”
“Don’t say things like that while looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“LIKE THAT.”
He laughed softly.
“I’m just saying I miss you.”
“The way you say it is the problem.”
“What if I was at the apartment right now?”
You instantly went completely silent. Yoongi saw your reaction and his smile became even thinner.
“Hmm.”
“Don’t hmm.”
“I’m just imagining it.”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“A little.”
“Yoongi…”
“I’d probably pull you onto the sofa already.”
Your breath instantly caught.
“And then you’d say you’re tired.”
“I am tired.”
“But you’d still come over to me.”
You genuinely couldn’t handle him once he started talking in that low voice. Especially now that his face already looked sleepy and soft. The deadliest combination.
“And then?” you asked quietly without realizing it.
Yoongi’s eyes immediately lifted slightly.
“Oh, so you want to keep listening.”
“Actually, never mind.”
“No. You asked.”
You bit your lip slightly. And Yoongi saw it. Of course he saw it.
“So dangerous,” he muttered softly.
“What?”
“The way you look when you’re embarrassed.”
You instantly turned your face away. Which only made him smile even more fondly.
“Come home soon okay,” you finally said quietly.
Yoongi’s expression instantly softened again.
“Hm.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you more.”
“Overconfident.”
“I’ll prove it later.”
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The time difference started becoming more and more annoying once BTS began touring in America.
In Seoul it was already evening while the sun there had only just risen. Sometimes you had just finished work while Yoongi was still at rehearsal. Sometimes you woke up in the morning to dozens of random texts from him sent at three in the morning local time because he couldn’t sleep again.
And the longer the tour went on, the more the longing started to settle in too.
Not the dramatic kind of longing that makes you cry every night. But the kind that appears in small things.
Like when you automatically took out two glasses from the cabinet before realizing you were living alone in the apartment right now. Or when you found Yoongi’s black hoodie still hanging over the living room chair and instinctively hugged it for a second because it still carried traces of his familiar perfume and laundry scent.
Or when you came home exhausted from work and realized there was no Yoongi sprawled across the sofa pretending to sleep just so you would approach him first.
That night you were sitting at the apartment work desk while staring at packaging design files that hadn’t gotten anywhere for hours. The desk lamp glowed brightly while the rest of the apartment stayed dim and quiet. Light rain fell outside the window, making the atmosphere feel calmer and lonelier at the same time.
You had just changed the song on Spotify when your phone vibrated.
Incoming video call:
Yoongi.
A smile instantly appeared on your face without realizing it.
You hadn’t even pressed accept yet, but half your exhaustion was already gone.
The moment the call connected, the screen immediately showed a shaky camera moving everywhere. At first there was only a bright sky and the sound of people passing by. Then a few seconds later Yoongi’s face appeared.
And seriously.
He looked way too relaxed for someone who was supposed to be world famous.
A black cap pulled low. An oversized gray hoodie. His mask was hanging under his chin because he was probably too lazy to talk with it covering his face. Black hair sticking out slightly from under the cap and moving with the wind.
He walked slowly while holding his phone low, like he was genuinely just some ordinary person wandering around an evening market.
Even though he was Min Yoongi.
That was exactly what stressed you out.
“You’re outside?” you asked while automatically sitting up straighter.
“Hm.”
Yoongi’s answers were always short when he was relaxed. His voice sounded heavier from tour exhaustion, but there was a lighter tone that rarely appeared whenever he was genuinely enjoying himself.
The camera shifted slightly, showing small stores around him. Everything was full of color. Neon hanging fabrics, hand-painted ceramics, tiny lights, and faint street music in the distance.
You immediately understood why he liked that place.
Because it felt alive.
And because it was exactly the kind of place that would make you stop at every shop just to stare at random cute things.
“You went out alone?” you asked again.
“Hoseok and Jungkook are eating. I got bored at the hotel.”
His answer sounded so casual that you had to stop yourself from sighing loudly.
Yoongi was always like this.
Sometimes he still forgot who he was now.
Not because he was arrogant or intentionally dismissing his own popularity. Actually the opposite. Sometimes he genuinely still thought he could casually walk around without attracting too much attention, especially outside Korea.
Even now?
Even people who didn’t follow BTS would probably still recognize his face.
And you knew perfectly well the other members often said the same thing—Yoongi was sometimes way too relaxed about himself.
“Are you even being careful?” you asked while lowering your laptop volume.
“I’m wearing a cap.”
You stared at the screen flatly.
“That’s not a disguise.”
“I’m also wearing a hoodie.”
“Wow. Incredible.”
Yoongi chuckled softly.
His laugh mixed faintly with footsteps and market noise, but it was still enough to make the corner of your lips lift too.
Even so, you kept paying attention to the surroundings behind the camera. People passed by without caring, but there was still a small nervous feeling sitting in your chest.
Not because you didn’t trust him to take care of himself.
But because you knew what the world was like now. One person realizes that’s Min Yoongi from BTS, and five minutes later there could already be a crowd.
And the funny thing was, Yoongi himself still looked genuinely confused whenever that happened.
“You seriously…” you muttered while leaning back in your chair, “still think you guys are nobodies sometimes huh?”
Yoongi stayed quiet for a second before finally smiling faintly.
“Sometimes I forget.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m just taking a short walk.”
“You say ‘just taking a short walk’ like you’re some guy running the neighborhood photocopy shop.”
He laughed more clearly this time.
And honestly, you liked hearing him laugh like that.
Lately the tour schedule has been too exhausting. His face often looked tired. So every time Yoongi sounded genuinely relaxed and comfortable, you felt relieved too.
The camera moved again, showing rows of tiny colorful stores. Neon-painted Mexico skulls, brightly embroidered fabrics, flower mugs, and strange ornaments that somehow still looked artistic.
“You’d love places like this,” he suddenly said.
And he was right.
Your eyes were instantly drawn to all the colors.
You have always loved bright things. Random tiny objects that were cute and overly crowded-looking. Even your apartment had colorful decorations. Yoongi often mocked for having “too many colors.”
“I bought something for you,” he added casually, as if that sentence alone didn’t instantly warm your heart.
You automatically turned quickly toward the screen.
“Hah?”
Yoongi looked satisfied seeing your reaction.
He was always like that. Sometimes purposely saying things suddenly just to watch your shocked expression.
“I kept seeing it and thinking about you.”
And god.
No matter how simple the sentence was, it still always made your chest soften.
Because Yoongi wasn’t the type to openly act romantic. Which was exactly why small things like “I saw this and thought of you” felt far more special.
You immediately started guessing excitedly.
Maybe a cute plate.
Maybe embroidered fabric.
Maybe a long brightly-colored dress Yoongi himself would never touch but would still choose because “this is so you.”
The more you imagined it, the more curious you became.
Especially because the way Yoongi kept holding back his smile clearly showed he was enjoying this.
“Come on, show me,” you whined.
“No.”
“Yoongi.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“It’s fine.”
He finally stopped walking in front of one of the stores. The camera lowered slightly toward shelves full of colorful ornaments.
Then he picked something up.
At first you didn’t realize what it was.
Until he lifted it closer to the camera.
“…is that a skull?”
Yoongi instantly grinned faintly.
“Yeah.”
You stared at the screen for several seconds with a blank expression.
Out of everything in Mexico…
Your boyfriend chose a skull.
But of course it wasn’t just any skull.
It was a brightly painted Día de los Muertos ceramic skull. Pink flowers, blue lines, neon yellow, tiny bright green details. It looked more cute than scary.
Still—
“Why a skull…”
“But the colors are cute.”
“You’re seriously weird.”
Yoongi actually looked proud of his choice.
He slowly rotated the skull toward the camera like he was showing off expensive artwork.
And the longer you looked at it, the more it really did feel… very you.
Crowded colors.
Weird.
Slightly chaotic.
“You like it, right?”
You tried holding back your smile.
Because honestly, this really was Min Yoongi-style romance.
Not flowers.
Not stuffed dolls.
Not expensive jewelry.
But a random colorful skull he saw at a market and immediately thought of you.
And somehow that made your heart ache from affection.
“You know normal people buy flowers for their girlfriends.”
“I’m different.”
“Clearly.”
“You don’t like it?”
You finally laughed softly while leaning your head back against the chair.
“I do…”
“Exactly.”
“But you’re still weird.”
Yoongi laughed in satisfaction again.
Behind him, the shop lights had started turning on because evening was approaching there. The bright colors around him looked warmer now. And in the middle of that crowded market, Yoongi stood there holding his ugly-cute little skull proudly.
Strangely enough…
That sight only made you miss him more.
Because you could clearly imagine him casually walking from store to store, then stopping the second he saw that thing and thinking:
“This would definitely be something Y/N likes.”
And now you really wished you were there with him.
