summary: jeonghyeon really needs more self control (lmao no he doesn't)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!!!
tw/tags: plot where? flirting, implied nudity, kisses, making out, lap sitting, hair pulling, name calling (doll), fingering, riding, choking, pre-negotiated safeword/signal, leejeongs a lil wild but v soft for u
a/n for 🐺 anon ty for sharing the dream that inspired this short, spicy and spontaneous fic and for @yunacoeur bc our little leejeong obsessed squad won’t be complete without your hype energy ily both 💜 enjoy this fic and the lil mood board I made to destroy our sanity. I hope you dream of him tonight!
You’re in bed when he gets home.
It’s late. He’s missed you. You’re all sleepy and soft and fuzzy around the edges, whining as the light from the hallway filters in when he opens the door.
“Leejeong-yah!” God, he hates it when you call him that. (He really doesn’t)
“I’m home.” He announces.
“Yeah, no shit.” You groan, sitting up, running a hand through your mussed up hair.
His response promptly goes flying out the window along with the rest of his sanity.
You’re wearing his shirt. And what looks like absolutely nothing else. Jeonghyeon takes a deep breath. He needs to control himself. Really, if he lost his shit everytime you did something like this, he’d literally have a heart attack.
Still his eyes wander down to the sliver of skin between the hem of his shirt and the sheets. You shift a little as he stays quiet. Oh, you’re definitely not wearing anything else.
“Jeonghyeonie?”
“Hmmm?..” No, he’s definitely not moving closer, his legs just have a mind of their own, is all.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” He says absentmindedly. Oh look, he’s on the bed now.
“Like…this…” You’re suddenly faint, he’s right in front of you, his legs bracketing your bare ones, his arms more or less pinning you against the bed frame.
Okay, maybe Jeonghyeon’s a little crazy right now but who can blame him when you look like that? Cheeks flushed, gaze bashfully trying to avoid his. Well that won’t do.
The edges of his mouth quirk upwards, just a little, before his hand is tilting your chin up and his lips meet yours. It lingers, sweet and needy and just leejeong. He pulls away briefly just to say”
“I missed you.” And then he’s kissing you again, hotter and hungrier. You can’t help as your fingers fly to his hair, tugging at the strands.
Jeonghyeon snaps, a hand snaking around your waist and flipping you over so he’s leaning against the bed frame, you on his lap. His shirt is all rucked up, exposing your bare thighs and well, everything. He runs his fingers over your skin reverently, leaving goosebumps in his wake, all the heat pooling between your legs where he’s pressed, firm and straining.
“Pretty doll.” He murmurs and you whimper, just a little. Jeonghyeon doesn’t even bother to undress, slicking up his fingers and opening you up for him, other hand cupping the back of your neck to hold you close.
“You’re so good for me.” He praises as you get shaky, hands gripping to the back of his shirt as his fingers send jolts of heat up your spine.
Your boyfriend can’t help but call your name as he slides in, saying it like a prayer, holding onto your hips for dear life as he breathes heavily, jaw clenching. Then, he wraps one hand loosely around your throat and pauses. Jeonghyeon looks at you, a tentative question.
“Okay?” You nod. “You know that I’ll stop if you tell me to stop?” Another clear nod. “And if you can’t talk?” You give him the signal you agreed on. “Okay I’ll-”
Fingers tighten around your neck and you gasp as he coaxes your hips up only for gravity to bring them back down. Both of your breaths stutter, your more than his. He’s slow at first, glancing up every few seconds to check on you. But soon, his pace becomes frantic and you can only cry out faintly, warm fingers cutting off your airflow.
“You feel…” He whispers into your ear, almost as overwhelmed by the sensation as you were. “You’re doing well, doll.” You swear you nearly white out from that alone.
Later, concerned hands carefully run over the red marks around your neck. You’re blissed out and boneless, lying on top of him, his chest still heaving.
“Good?” He asks like it’s your first time, so tentative that you can only smile.
“Very good.” You breathe out. You’re warm and cleaned up, having changed out of his soiled shirt into another one, still his of course. He’s in his pajamas too, hair still a little damp from the bath you both took.
“Goodnight Leejeongie~” You murmur as you doze off. Jeonghyeon closes his eyes.
If he lost his shit everytime you did something, he’d definitely have a heart attack by now. But sometimes, you know? That didn’t seem too bad.
genre: SIN aka smut/heavily suggestive themes, canonverse (over me)
wc: 568
summary: In the wise words of @cherriegyu [pls see above]
MINORS DO NOT LOOK!!! DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!!
tw/tags: what plot? bondage themes, pet names, fingering, fucking, mirror sex, tears, marking, implied oral, implied size difference kinda, possessive ish leejeong, unprotected sex/creampie [yes both of them got tested beforehand and if its an afab reader, they're on the pill]
a/n it's been a lil quiet around here and i got no time to write a full fic so here's a short drabble to summon the cult and land us all back in delulu, inspired by cherrie and the anon who sent me this ask, pls enjoy and feel free to yell at me after~ thinking of doing a whole over me spicy series, you can check out the jay part here
Soft red fabric binds your wrists together, his fingers gripping the excess as he presses your arms above your head. The surface of the mirror is cold against your palms. You gasp as he crowds you in further. He leans forward, lips ghosting against your ear.
“Shhh doll,” he whispers. You feel him behind you, his frame caging you in, his hips nearly flush against your behind. He’s gotten you somewhat undressed, the skin of your shoulder exposed so he can mouth at it, tugging cloth down to your knees, just enough to leave your bottom half bare.
Your thighs tremble as his other hand comes down to stroke between your legs, the slide getting stickier as he does. The tips of his fingers tease a little before he works them in. You choke down the whimpers that threaten to escape as he adds more, one after the other.
Finally, he taps at your thighs and you spread as much as you can with your clothes sliding down, almost to your ankles. Betraying his impatience, he wastes no time gripping at your hips and slipping into you before one of his hands goes back to pinning your wrists against the mirror. The noises you let out are cracked and broken as he thrusts, gasping into your ear.
“Can you open your eyes for me?”
It takes a few moments before you register. He’s relentless, rolling his hips slowly but forcefully, taking all of the air out of your lungs as he goes deeper and deeper. Your lashes flutter, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim light. Fingers tug lightly at your hair, your chin tilting upwards slightly.
“Look doll.”
Your eyes meet through the mirror. The white blouse shirt he’s wearing is crumpled, unbuttoned, his lean stomach heaving, abs shiny with sweat. Somehow, his black trousers are still on, only undone at the front so he can fuck you. He’s practically towering over you, bearing down on your prone body. His hair is a mess, dishevelled bangs hanging over his eyes, strands sticking to his forehead. The way he looks at you is dark, hungry for something, sending a chill up your spine while heat shoots between your thighs. You clench involuntarily and he hisses.
Look at me while I’m fucking you.
It’s brutal but oddly sweet. The way he slams into you yet holds you so gentle and firm. His voice demands but his eyes are still soft under the darkness, the hunger. He’s unrelenting, leaving marks on your shoulders and back before soothing them with his tongue. It’s a lot. It’s almost too much. You don’t realise it until your eyes are blurry with tears, slipping down your cheeks as you take it, pleasure and pain. He curses the moment the first drop falls, squeezing your wrists to the point that you’re sure his fingers will leave imprints, your whole body flush against the mirror as you watch him take his fill.
“Only look at me, yeah?” He murmurs, a command and a plea all in one. “Just you and me.”
You manage to choke out a sound of agreement before he loses all composure, groaning as you feel him spill into you. For a second, it’s quiet, both of you trembling. Then, he sinks to his knees and finishes you off, lapping at his own release out of you as you shake uncontrollably.
Missing Park Hanbin hours😔 I’m Phanbin deprived😭😭 can you do highly suggestive cuddles with hanbin <3
Perfectionist
pairing: park hanbin x reader
genre: canon ish, fluff, suggestive themes
tw/tags: waking up, kisses, pet names, light banter, making out, kinda stripping, non explicit descriptions of intimacy, it gets real cheesy towards the end, lets have self confidence everybody, I’d like to go to sleep now too pls and thanks
wc: 677
summary: maybe you’re the reason hanbin’s so obsessed with perfection.
a/n it's quite overdue bc of things that have happened (I believe we are all aware) but i hope you enjoy this anon!
Check my pinned for more fics!!
“Jagiya~”
Hanbin watches as your face scrunches up a little, making a non-committal noise and trying to hide your face in his chest. He laughs a little, petting at your hair. You melt into his touch, not wanting to get up. He doesn’t either.
Perfect mornings start with you.
Maybe his body aches from a late night of practice. Maybe his head is protesting just a little from a lack of sleep. Still, he likes seeing how you wake up, reluctantly opening your eyes and looking absolutely affronted by the idea that you’d have to leave the bed.
It’s adorable. You’re adorable. It might be him. But the way you groan and try your best to reach for every part of his body and stubbornly pretend you’re still asleep is the best thing he’s ever seen.
Hanbin, for most part, is a morning person. Or at least, he is when it comes to you. Because why be asleep when he can spend every waking moment with his favourite person?
“Bin-ah?”
“Mmmm?”
“Stop thinking so much and go back to sleep.”
“And what if I don’t want to go to sleep?” He teases you in the sing-song voice that you don’t really appreciate at the moment.
“Then shut up and let me sleep.”
“I don’t want to,” God, now he’s whining. With much effort, you open your eyes and peek up at his stupid smiling face. Well that won’t do.
There’s exactly one way to make Park Hanbin shut up in this kind of situation.You take a mental survey. He did mention not having schedules today. You didn’t have anything on either. It all checked out.
You grab the front of his shirt to pull yourself up and kiss him. Immediately, he’s kissing back, the hand in your hair cradling the back of your head. He catches your bottom lip and something pleasant pops in your brain. Blindly, you reach over and nudge and perhaps shove a bit until you’re on top of him.
His hands are on your shoulders, sliding down your rib cage, gripping at your waist, roaming all over. They’re needy, pressing gently at your hips until they’re against his. He inhales sharply at the pressure, the friction as you swivel them a little. If waking up holding you got him a little firm, he was definitely aching for you now.
Fingers slip under your shirt to caress bare skin. You’re mouthing at his neck, nipping and running your tongue over what you know are his sensitive spots but you don’t leave marks. That’s for another day, when he has enough time for them to fade.
Hanbin has such precise control of his body until it comes to you. You who knows where to touch, where to be soft and when to be a little firmer. You can make his hips jump involuntarily, ripping out sharp inhales and sweet sighs, his hands develop a mind of its own around you.
It’s dangerous. Hanbin’s a little obsessed. He’s a firm believer in practice. That the constant repetition and correction will condition the body to move closer and closer to perfection. No amount of practice can prepare him for the way you slip down, tugging at his shorts as you do. He can’t correct himself, only lay there helplessly as you take what you want, leaving him trembling and full to the brim with desire.
Nothing is more perfect than the faces you make when he pleases you, the noises that he pulls from your lips. He’s greedy, he’ll practise over and over and over again until you are shaking and shoving him off.
Perfect is lying with you, limp and maybe a little lightheaded. Chest heaving as you bully your way back into his arms, close your eyes and doze off. And suddenly going back to sleep sounds like the best thing in the world. Because that’s the kind of power you have over him.
So who can blame Park Hanbin for being a perfectionist when he’s in love with the perfection that is you?
Hey!!! I love your writing so much,, especially your jay fic ;; I saw that you loved canon fics and omg literally SAME,, so i was like lemme request a lil something lolol
Jay smut, reader is his makeup artist during the over me “era” and you can free style the rest <333
😺 anon
Tonight I’ll take you away
pairing: jay x reader
pronouns: none used
genre: canon, suggestive themes, smut
wc: 1940
summary: you proposition the cute trainee that’s been making eyes at you while you’re working
Check my pinned for more fics~
MINORS DO NOT READ PLEASE!!!!
tw/tags: flirting, staring, realities of the idol industry, makeup, plastic surgery mention (not referring to jay), assumptions made about the industry, covertly arranged hook up, jay kinda subby, bondage, mention of pre negotiation/boundary setting, teasing, kissing, making out, nipple play, oral sex (both receiving), non explicit and explicit descriptions, riding, orgasms, reader bottoms but gender isn't specified, reader is implied to be older than jay but you can imagine it however you want
a/n tysm for loving my writing, 😺 anon! Hope you like this, it took quite awhile but I finally got to writing it~ thinking of turning this into a whole over me 🥵 series but while thoughts are being had, y'all can check out the leejeong part if you haven't!
“잘생겼어요?” [Jalsaenggyoso]
You pause, just for a second, hiding that brief moment of confusion by dipping your brush back into the eyeshadow palette.
“You mean 잘생겼나요?“ [Jalsaenggyonayo]
Even under his foundation, his cheeks flush. You’re unfazed, having worked with a fair amount of foreign idols, you’ve received your share of flirtatious comments and sometimes even straight up propositions both in shaky Korean and poor English, up until they realise you’re perfectly capable of understanding both.
Tapping off the excess, you motion for him to close his eyes, holding his chin to steady him and swiping lightly over his lids. And because you rather avoid another misunderstanding, you continue to talk in English.
“Keep your eyes closed for me, please.”
You instruct him as you blend it in with a darker shadow at the outer corner of his lash line. He’s a good looking kid. In this industry, they all are, honestly, they have to be. You can only do so much contouring to sharpen their jawlines and slim their faces and define their nose. Some of them are so naturally attractive that you wonder how they have such good genes and others? Well, there’s nothing the knife and needle can’t take care of.
“And open.”
He does and you can’t help but notice how striking he looks. It does help that he has a natural double eyelid, saving you the effort of going in with the tape, the subtle liner popping out immediately. You make a few small adjustments, ignoring how his breath goes shaky every time you use your hands to angle his face.
He is, by no means, the subtle type. But he’s also a trainee, a Western-raised one to boot. They tend to be…a lot more expressive by nature, unabashed staring, the more established idols even going as far as making open advances, confidence given by signed NDAs and the knowledge that whatever footage of this will be deleted. While he doesn’t have that confidence, his face speaks volumes, wanting eyes, the ends of his mouth quivering upwards as you lean in to brush tint over his lips, even the little Korean he messed up earlier.
“You really shouldn’t stare like that when there are cameras.”
You murmur, glad that they haven’t been able to clip a mic to his shirt yet. There are only two cameras in the partitioned off waiting room, one mounted on a tripod meant to record the whole room although you know from experience that it won’t pick up audio and both of you weren’t in any kind of suspicious position either. Besides, they hardly used the footage from there, the behind the scenes most likely taking clips from the handheld camera that the other trainees sitting on the couch were talking at.
So honestly, neither of the cameras would catch him but you figured that anyone planning to be an idol might as well be a little more cautious.
“Sorry,” he immediately ducks his head, sheepish with a little embarrassment now evident on his face. Definitely a lot more expressive.
It tones down but he seriously won’t stop stealing glances at you. Even when he’s called over to film or you retouch the makeup of the other trainees, your eyes end up meeting whenever you look his way. When they’re called to stand-by backstage, mic packs are taped on with you and the rest of the makeup and styling team making last minute adjustments. Maybe, it’s a lapse of judgement but you reach up and tug the black choker askew on his neck back into place.
Maybe only you two hear the sharp inhale he makes when you do that.
“Need to get into the mood of your song, you know.”
You quip under your breath as you retouch some parts of his face, no need for any extra blush, at least.
“Ah, yes.”
He offers you a smile in return. Cute.
You’re part of the staff that accompany them to the studio for retouches. All of them stand still as you fix up smudges or spots that’ve been sweated away. But it’s only Jay who really looks at you with a little something as he parts his lips to let your brush fix up the gradient, making sure they look soft and plush and camera ready.
“Good luck, fighting!”
It’s not that suspicious with all the other staff cheering them on but he lights up right away. It’s too cute.
And then they do the dry run and in the place of that shy, soft-spoken, smiling kid is this sensual man with sultry vocals that does things to you. It’s a blur, the song wrapping up way too fast and leaving you a little breathless and slightly warm under the collar.
They come backstage and maybe you bustle up to Jay too quickly but in fairness, the rehearsal has his bangs sticking to his forehead, foundation a little smudged and you definitely need to do retouches.
“Did I do well?”
He asks you, all quiet again. There’s no trace of the man onstage in his bright eyes as he smiles at you. When you tell him he did, somehow he manages to look even happier. You watch him greet the fans with those eyes before completely flipping the switch, vocals coming on even stronger, giving them flirty little smiles as rose petals decorate the stage.
And that’s when you decide, well, why not? He was cute and he seemed to think you were too. You’d suck his dick…if he wanted you too.
__________________________________________
After the M Countdown filming and a fan meeting that had you on the side for more touch ups, you found out that he, in fact, wanted you too.
It isn’t too difficult, you being in the industry long enough to go about making arrangements discretely and without too much fuss. NDAs aside, it does help that while he is on a highly-publicised survival show, he still is considered a trainee which makes it easier to slip under the radar. There’s a little pre-negotiation, setting boundaries, getting consent but it goes over smoothly.
Which is why he’s here, actually trying to avoid your gaze, the red ribbon stage props binding his wrists to the bed posts, his pants somewhere on the floor. It’s a very pretty sight, you think to yourself as you watch him squirm, his arousal out in the open, cheeks flushed. It’s fun when they’re needy. It’s even better knowing that a hundred people can scream their name but your name will be the only one they’ll say tonight.
Jay says your name in a way that’s reminiscent of how he sang earlier. Melodic, almost breathless, just a little needy. You’re settled between his legs, running a hand over his thigh, enjoying the way he trembles slightly when you ghost at where he wants it. He’s all shy and stuttery again but his body is as expressive as before.
He surges forward as you lean in, meeting your lips with his. He’s not a bad kisser. You aren’t surprised, assuming that growing up in the West and not starting training as a child like some of the inexperienced ones you hear about must have had something to do with that. He’s still shy but there’s a sense of self-assurance in the way he mouths softly at your bottom lip. Parting his lips to let you slip your tongue in, exploring the spots that get his hips to jump, his wrists to strain against their bindings.
The sounds he makes are like music as you scrape your teeth over his neck, careful not to leave any bruises. You lap at abused skin and he starts getting noisy. That’s fine. No one would hear and even if someone does, they know it’s none of their business. Fingertips graze his nipples and you watch him twitch, leaking onto the sheets. You can’t help but ask.
“Good?”
“Please. Can you-”
“Can I…?”
“Can you do that again, please?”
And because he asked so nicely, you use your mouth, flicking your tongue out. He’s gasping, bucking his hips, trying to get some friction where he’s aching. You could toy with him all night but you won’t do that. Not tonight, at least. You press kisses lower and lower, his breath getting shallower nearly halting as you pause between his legs and look up at him.
“Will you stay still for me?”
It’s taking awhile to register but once it does, he nods. Well, you can’t have that.
“Words please.”
He looks so stricken, it’s almost adorable. But it’s barely a second of hesitation before he answers.
“Yes, yes- ah!”
You take him fully into your mouth, as much as you can. He’s heavy against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks for more suction, bobbing your head a few times. You look up and his head is thrown up against the headboard, eyes closed, lip tint smeared on his parted lips, sharp breaths escaping. You run your tongue along the veins on the underside of his dick and the sounds he lets out are obscene.
Impressively enough, he manages to keep his hips steady, letting you go at your own pace. But you know you’re good. You’ve been told that you’re good. Waiting till he relaxes, basking the pleasure of your tongue running over him, suckling softly, even moving to leave a mark or two on his thighs. Then, without warning, you’re descending, taking him almost fully in your mouth, breathing steadily through your nose.
You’re pretty sure the whole floor heard him just now, his hips jerking up traitorously. You pull off and the whine that comes next is delicious. He’s wrecked, bangs stuck to his forehead in an erotic echo of earlier, eyes dark and pleading, fists clenching uselessly.
“I thought you’d stay still for me?”
What comes out of his mouth next is almost unintelligible, a mess of Korean and English, all you know is that he’s begging. You shush him, your clothes joining his on the floor. You’ve got him hypnotised as you sink your fingers between your own legs, the wet squelch betraying how eager you are. He slides in, nice and easy and you take a moment to relish in the fullness that this angle offers, straddling him fully.
Your hands press his hips downward, keeping them still this time until you’re ready to feel him deeper. It’s a lost cause once you let go, he moves, as much as he can with his hands still restrained and unable to provide leverage. You let him tire himself out before you take your own pleasure, rolling your hips and enjoying the way he sounds when you do. He doesn’t ask you to untie him so you ride him until he’s about to tip over the edge, it’s not hard to tell with someone as expressive as him, the brink of an orgasm is written all over his face.
Maybe you’re a little sex drunk but the sound he makes when you push him past release should be recorded and made into a song. But for now, you’re the only listener. Chest heaving, you free his wrists and before you know it, it’s his face buried between your legs, helping you reach your own release.
“Is it okay if we stay tonight?” He asks after you’ve cleaned up, lying on the bed, limbs tangled together. He’s very tactile, you've found out.
You consider the consequences before shrugging, quite enjoying the way he presses soft kisses against your shoulders, singing softly to the song that’s playing quietly in the background.
tw/tags: dance club, pining, girlypop duo does tomboy, kep1er character cameos, swearing, ggang team is back, seunghwan is very much harassed, leejeong munjung devil twins, chen jianyu just vibing, kinda unhinged ngl, confessions
wc: 1248
summary: no, seunghwan was not pining and he definitely wasn't staring at your ass, thank you very much.
a/n it's taken a long time but I finally wrote it! Also idk titles so I just stole from seunghwan's lines in ggang lol. Thank you so much @milie02 for requesting this! I hope you like it~ Everyone pls enjoy~
check my pinned for more fics!
Sometimes you wonder why the cute boy, who you sometimes catch watching you stretch before practice, never tries to talk to you. It’s not that you’re assuming anything. It just happens that he looks your way a lot. And yes, you do notice it. Maybe he thinks he’s subtle but he really isn’t.
You haven’t been in the dance club for very long. While you’ve been trying different styles since you were little, your first year of university was a whirlwind, living away for the first time, getting used to classes, going to MTs and festivals, joining the organisations that your sunbaes recommended. It left you little time, if any, to look for a studio where you could practise your beloved hobby.
Luckily, one of your sunbaes introduced you to the dance club, open to all majors and exactly the thing you were looking for.
“Okay everyone, from the top.”
You’ve been grouped up with Seo Won, Kim Dayeon, Cha Woongki and Seo Youngeun for a cover of (G)I-DLE’s Tomboy, one of the performances that regularly made up the repertoire for the club’s end of the semester showcase. The last time this song was performed had been legendary, led by now graduate students Shen Xiaoting, Zhang Hao and senior Sung Hanbin when they were in their first and second years. So yes, you had very large shoes to fill.
From the other side of the room, Seunghwan is definitely not watching the way you move your hips. Someone smacks the back of his head. He spins around only to see Chen Jianyu walking casually to his spot, the graduate student shrugging in response.
“I know you like them but can we do less staring at their ass and more practising please hyung.”
“I’m not staring at their ass.”
Seunghwan hisses at Lee Jeonghyeon who just looks back at him, unimpressed.
“Sure hyung.”
Mun Junghyun chimes in because Seunghwan gets zero respect from any of his dongsaengs these days. As if on cue, Junhyeon decides to chime in at that very moment.
“So should we do it like this? Or…” He demonstrates a bit of choreography before realising what kind of conversation he walked into.
“Oh was Seunghwan-hyung staring at- mmmph.” Seunghwan hurriedly shoves a hand over the other’s mouth because Junhyeon has no sense of volume control about 80% of the time, now being one of those times.
“Junhyeon-ah.”
“Mhmmph?”
“Do me a favour and please shut up.”
“Hmmmhmph.”
With that, Seunghwan finally lets go because Junhyeon can’t speak in muffled gibberish forever and also they actually needed to practise. Junhyeon stares at him but doesn’t say anything. It’s finally quiet. Actually, it’s a little too quiet.
Seunghwan realises that the music from your group’s speaker cut out and he’s confronted by the magnificently judgemental stare of Cha Woongki while he calmly sips his water. Seo Won looks a little too entertained and the girls give him knowing looks. Luckily for him, you’re busy monitoring your practice on someone’s phone.
“That was great, hyung.” Junghyun decides to say because of course he does.
“Very subtle.” Jeonghyeon adds. Seunghwan swears they’re the devils.
“Is he confessing now or are we starting practice?” Jianyu asks because even the eldest won’t give Seunghwan a break.
“The new choreo please, Junhyeon-ah.”
Seunghwan is tired.
__________________________________________
“And for the record, you know Lee Seunghwan was totally staring at your ass earlier.”
“Oh, is that his name?”
Woongki takes your face in his hands and proceeds to squish your cheeks.
“Oh my poor clueless baby.”
“We’re the same age?” You’re vaguely alarmed and a little confused, eyes flying to Seo Won, your lovely sunbae just shaking his head.
“He’s definitely into you.” Dayeon pipes up.
“He’s never even talked to me though?”
“Seunghwan-sunbae’s just shy.” Youngeun justifies.
“Well I think he’s being a pussy.” Woongki declares, all of you gasp, including the ahjumma who’s about to take your orders. Dayeon offers her an apologetic look and asks for extra rice for the stew you ordered.
“Don’t call him names when we aren’t even sure if he likes me.”
“Oh he definitely likes you babe, he just needs to grow some balls and confess, Won-hyung and I have money on him cracking by the interim check.”
“Sunbae!” Seo Won’s unfazed, calmly thanking the ahjumma who’s brought steaming bowls of kimchi jjigae and rice to the table.
“I bet on the pre-final performance.” Dayeon says, grabbing some rice.
“Oh same.”
“I- wait how many people bet on this??”
“I dunno, like the whole dance club?”
“Eh???”
__________________________________________
Seunghwan can’t believe he’s doing this.
“I can’t believe he’s finally doing it.”
“He is?”
“Yep.” Three voices say at the exact same time. Seunghwan throws a dirty look at his traitorous group members. Seriously, he needs better friends.
Junhyeon pats him on the shoulder ceremoniously, looking way too solemn for this.
“You can do it, hyung, I believe in you.”
The younger boys sounds so sincere that Seunghwan’s almost touched.
“Don’t fuck it up, hyung.”
Nevermind.
It’s the interim check. Nothing too serious. Just the whole club getting together to check everyone else’s performances out and give tips. Definitely. And because Junhyeon loudly volunteers them to go first, they’re going first. Fuck.
Here’s something Seunghwan learned from letting Junhyeon lead their choreography. He’s actually pretty fucking good. They’re in sync, all their moves are sharp and on beat and he even gives everyone a small part in the centre where they can show off their strengths. Then, they get to the freestyle part.
So here’s another thing Seunghwan learned from letting Junhyeon lead their choreography. He’s also pretty fucking good at incorporating the stupidest ideas and getting everyone to agree to them. Case in point, what Seunghwan is about to do now as he puts on the stupid meme shades that Junhyeon had convinced the whole group to wear.
He’s front and centre, grooving to the beat and looking at where you’re sitting near the front with the other dancers covering Tomboy. Seunghwan takes a deep breath and with his whole chest, yells out your name and then says:
“GO OUT WITH ME!!”
The whole club goes wild, hooting and then cheering when you stare at him with wide eyes before nodding. Seunghwan swears his cheek muscles are going to collapse from how hard he’s smiling. They wrap up the dance without a hitch and immediately his members are descending upon him, yelling their congratulations.
On your part, well you get a grand total of thirty seconds to comprehend what just happened before Woongki announces your group is going next and bodily dragging you with him. You suddenly remember what you had agreed to do for the interim check.
“I mean he confessed already so-”
“You’re doing it, babe.” Woongki cuts in, leaving no room for protests.
Seunghwan thought he wasn’t prepared to confess today. What he really wasn’t prepared for was you sauntering over to him during your freestyle section (the infamous la la part), hips swaying as you proceed to drop it low while everyone freaks out, him included.
After that, Seunghwan can no longer say that he wasn’t staring at your ass. Woongki and Seo Won make a shit ton of money from the betting pool that had been going. And you? Well the cute boy, who you sometimes catch watching you stretch before practice, did more than just talk to you. And that’s the story of how Lee Seunghwan eventually became your boyfriend.
hey could you make some one shots w kum junhyeon where he says something mean to reader but then he regret it at the end
You didn’t have to say it like that
pairing: kum junhyeon x s/o reader
pronouns: none used
genre: canon au, angst ish, fluff, hurt-comfort
tw/tags: junhyeon confession flashback, bp finale aftermath, intrusive thoughts, junhyeon going through it, harsh words, giving space, apologies, cuddling
wc: 729
summary: your boyfriend has many words to say and sometimes some of them hurt.
a/n last lil drabble before I take a smol break to work on finals 😭 ~ pls love, appreciate and enjoy!
check my pinned for more fics!
You know Junhyeon talks a lot. Maybe a little too much sometimes. The words just flow out until some of them end up tangled in others, switching places, creating completely new meanings. You know this because that’s how he confessed to you.
“I know me really like you, will I go out with you?”
You stare for a second. Then, you laugh.
“Well, I hope you will.”
It takes him about a minute of celebrating before he realises exactly what he had said.
Everyone you told was amazed that you understood him so fast.
After the finale, he’s the quietest you’ve ever seen him. Sure, he’s smiling, handing out his enthusiastic congratulations to the debut members, greeting the other trainees. But as soon as the cameras are off and he joins you backstage, Junhyeon shuts off.
It isn’t the good kind of silence either. More like something uncomfortable is buried underneath his skin, emanating from him in an oddly dark dejected way. He moves mechanically, following behind as you unlock the door. It’s late and he just sits there. You sit with him.
“How are you feeling?” You venture tentatively, a little unsure of how to navigate around this Junhyeon. You’ve seen him angry, sad, tired, deliriously happy and downright silly but this seemed like something else entirely.
“I dunno, just tired I guess.”
“You’ve worked hard. You should rest.”
He laughs humorlessly.
“That’s what all of them told me. You’ve worked hard, Junhyeon-ah. You’lll get there, Junhyeon-ah. You did your best. Is this my best? Okay, maybe with my rank, I shouldn’t expect anything but I was close. I could’ve made it. But I didn’t, and I should have expected that but-”
He’s breathing so hard that you’re a little worried.
“They told me to prepare myself. Hoetaek-hyung, Jongwoo-hyung, even Kamden-hyung and Seungeonie were ready for it. So how come I wasn’t, huh? How could I even expect to-”
“Hyeoni, I-”
“No. You don’t get it. Just, just don’t say anything.”
His voice is quiet and fierce and ice cold and he’s never spoken to you that way. And it hurt, honestly, it did.
Of course, you didn’t get it. You were just another member of the audience, looking at what was happening from the outside. Maybe dating Junhyeon gave you a little more to work with than an average person but you still watched through the screen as they edited these boys down into characters and fit them into specific shelves for applause. You watched. Junhyeon lived that.
So no, you really didn’t get it. But he didn’t have to say it that way. He’s upset, angry, sad, frightfully so because he put months of work into this program and while not everyone got to stand in the spotlight in the end, he’s told you how addicting it is once you get a taste.
You don’t say anything. You get up and go take a shower. Maybe you let a few tears flow while the water’s running, to soothe the sharp ache in your chest. The shower goes until your skin is pink from the heat and tender to touch. You get dressed, do your skincare, dry your hair and go to bed, resisting the urge to check on your boyfriend again.
Junhyeon slips in beside you when you’re dozing off, hair haphazardly dried, skin as pink as yours.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“You weren’t wrong,” you whisper back.
“I still shouldn’t have said it that way.” he tells you. “I was frustrated and mad at myself and I took it out on you.”
“It’s fine, I think. Just let me know if you’re feeling like that and you want to talk and you just want me to listen.”
“Okay.” He agrees. “I’m sorry again.”
You open your arms and he slips between them, letting you hold him.
“It will be fine.” He says both to you and to himself. “The company said they’ve got plans for us too if we don't make it.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Your eyes are so heavy, all too soothed by the smell of his shampoo and how warm he is.
“I get the whole week off, I think. We should do something tomorrow.”
“Okay, Hyeoni.”
He gives you a quick kiss before relaxing into the sheets.
