warnings. — oral (f rec), petnames, fingering, hard fucking, multiple sex scenes, jaehyun is hungry af, edging, praising kink, dumbification, multiple sex positions, wife and husband, married, loud sex, y/n has a full back tattoo, they're so inlovee, backshots, size difference / size kink, manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding kink (light or heavy), marking.
wc. — 2.3k
synopsis. — jaehyun comes home from military leave exhausted but desperate for his wife (reader) the second he walks in he devours you—deep kisses, relentless oral, then rough backshots on the couch for half an hour straight. needy, vocal, marking you up while praising you softly. high sex drive means the night is nowhere near over. your body and full tattooed back take everything he gives.
the door clicked open at 11:47 pm. jaehyun stepped inside still in his military fatigues, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, boots heavy on the wooden floor. twenty-eight years old, broad shoulders filling the frame, taller than the doorway made sense for. two weeks into his temporary discharge, thirty days total—and this was the first night he made it home before midnight. the apartment smelled like the jasmine rice you cooked earlier and the faint vanilla of your lotion.
you were on the couch in an oversized black t-shirt and nothing else, legs tucked under, scrolling on your phone, back decorated with that full snake graphic tattoo that curled from your shoulder blades down to the dip above your ass. you looked up when the door shut and your whole face changed—eyes softening, lips parting like you’d been waiting for this exact second.
he dropped the bag. didn’t even kick his boots off properly.
“hey,” he said, voice low, tired, but already thickening with something else.
you stood up fast.
he crossed the room in three strides, caught you by the waist, and lifted you clean off the floor. the size difference hit immediately—your feet dangling, his biceps flexing under the fabric as he pulled you against his chest.
he was bulkier now, months of training carved into lean muscle, abs tight, happy trail disappearing under his belt. you fit against him like you were made to disappear there.
“missed you so fucking much,” he muttered against your mouth before he kissed you.
it wasn’t soft. he swallowed you whole—tongue sliding in deep, wet, controlling the angle so your head tilted back. you whimpered into it, eyes fluttering shut, mouth going slack almost instantly because he didn’t let you lead.
he did everything: sucked on your tongue, licked the roof of your mouth, bit your lower lip just hard enough to make you gasp. one big hand cupped the back of your head, the other gripping your ass, squeezing, kneading like he needed to remind himself you were real.
your back hit the couch first. he followed right after, caging you in, knees on either side of your hips. you were already breathing hard, cheeks flushed. he pulled your t-shirt up and off in one motion, mouth latching onto your neck, then lower—collarbone, the soft swell of your breast, sucking marks that would bruise tomorrow. his dimples flashed when he looked up at you for half a second, that boyish smile cutting through the hunger.
“jaehyun—” you started, but he was already moving down, spreading your legs with his shoulders.
he ate you like a man starved. tongue flat and slow at first, then focused, relentless. every lick, every suck had your hips twitching. he groaned against you, the vibration making you whine louder. one arm hooked under your thigh, holding you open while the other hand pressed down on your lower stomach, keeping you still. you came the first time fast—back arching, small hands fisting his short hair, a broken “fuck” slipping out.
he didn’t stop.
second time he added two fingers, curling them just right, mouth still working your clit. you were shaking, overwhelmed, eyes glassy. he looked up at you, lips shiny, dimples deep. “that’s it, baby. let me have it.”
by the third you were pushing at his shoulders, too sensitive, but he just kissed your inner thigh and murmured, “one more for me, my wife. missed this pussy so bad.”
when he finally pulled back, his cock was straining against his pants—thick, heavy, already leaking. he stood just long enough to shove his fatigues down, shirt ripped off over his head. abs flexing, biceps bulging, that happy trail leading down to where he was rock hard. y/n’s eyes widened a little every time, like you still couldn’t believe how big he was.
he flipped you over without warning, pulling your hips up so you were on all fours on the couch, back arched, that snake tattoo on full display. he ran his palm down your spine, thumb tracing the inked bones and scales. “love this fucking tattoo,” he said, voice rough. “love looking at it while i fuck you.”
he pushed in slow at first—letting you feel every inch, stretching you open. you were so tight, so wet from his mouth, but still gasping at the fullness. your waist in his big hands looked tiny. he bottomed out and stayed there a second, forehead pressed to your shoulder blade, breathing hard.
“so good,” he whispered. “my beautiful wife. so fucking perfect for me.”
then he started moving.
rough. desperate. months of pent-up need in every thrust. skin slapping, couch creaking under you both. he gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, one hand sliding up to press between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest down while he fucked you deeper. backshots for what felt like forever—half an hour at least, pace never letting up. he’d slow down when you got close, edging you until you were crying into the cushion, then slam back in harder.
“jaehyun—please—” you whimpered, voice muffled.
“i know, baby. i got you.” his voice stayed soft even when his hips were brutal. “cum for me again. wanna feel you squeezing me.”
you did—over and over. he talked you through every one: low praises, “good girl,” “that’s my wife,” “missed you so much, missed being inside you.” his hands never stopped moving—groping your ass, squeezing your waist, reaching around to rub your clit when he wanted you to fall apart faster.
he pulled you up once, back against his chest, still buried deep, one arm banded across your stomach while the other hand tilted your head for another messy kiss. tongue fucking your mouth while he ground up into you. you went boneless, mouth hanging open, little gasps and whines the only sounds you could make while he did all the work.
by the time he finally let himself go, you were both drenched in sweat. he came with a deep groan, hips stuttering, filling you until it leaked down your thighs. even then he didn’t pull out right away—just held you close, kissing the back of your neck, dimples pressing into your skin as he smiled against you.
“we’re not done,” he murmured, voice hoarse but already hungry again. “got a whole month, baby. and i’m not letting you leave this apartment much.”
you laughed weakly, still trembling, pussy aching in the best way. “rip me then.”
he flipped you onto your back, settled between your legs again, mouth already descending.
“that’s the plan.”
both of you barely made it to the bedroom.
jaehyun had you in his arms the second he pulled out from the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist like muscle memory. cum was still leaking down your thighs, but he didn’t care. he carried you down the short hallway, mouth never leaving yours—tongue slow and deep, licking into you like he was trying to taste every whimper you made. your arms were loose around his neck, brain already hazy, body buzzing from the first round.
he kicked the bedroom door open with his foot and dropped you onto the bed face down. the sheets were cool against your overheated skin. you didn’t even have time to push up on your elbows before he was on you—big body covering yours completely, one knee shoving your legs together so they stayed straight and tight. he mounted you like that, chest pressed to your back, weight pinning you down just enough that you couldn’t really move. the snake tattoo on your spine flexed under his palm as he ran his hand down your back.
“stay like this, baby,” he murmured against your ear, voice low and rough. his cock, still hard and slick from before, nudged between your thighs. “gonna fuck you just like this.”
he pushed in slow, forcing your legs to stay closed so the fit was ridiculously tight. the squelch was loud—wet, obscene, every inch sliding through the mess he’d already left inside you. you moaned into the pillow, the sound muffled and broken. you were already so full, so sensitive, but the way he stretched you with your thighs pressed together made everything feel sharper.
jaehyun groaned deep in his chest, forehead dropping to the back of your neck. “fuck… so tight. hear that? that’s my wife’s pretty pussy.”
he started moving—long, heavy strokes that made the bed creak. every thrust pushed you deeper into the mattress, your small frame swallowed under his taller, bulkier one. the happy trail on his stomach brushed against your lower back with every roll of his hips. his biceps flexed on either side of your head as he braced himself, one hand sliding under you to grip your waist—21 centimeters of soft skin and bone that fit perfectly in his palm.
you sobbed.
not from pain—from being completely overwhelmed. the kind of brain-clouded sob that came when you were already fucked dumb and he just kept going. your moans turned wet and shaky, face flat against the pillow, mouth open, drool starting to soak the fabric. every time he bottomed out the wet slap of skin and the squelchy sound of your pussy taking him made you cry out louder.
“jae—hyun… ah—fuck—”
poor neighbors. the walls weren’t that thick and it was past midnight, but he didn’t slow down. if anything your broken little sobs fueled him more. he loved when you got like this—completely lost, eyes unfocused, body limp except for the way your walls fluttered around him.
he leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “that’s it, my beautiful wife. let it out. sound so good when you cry for me.”
always a kisser. he turned your head to the side with two fingers under your chin and kissed you like he was starving for it. tongue sliding in deep, playing with yours, sucking on it, licking the roof of your mouth while he kept fucking you in that tight, closed-leg position. you couldn’t even kiss back properly anymore—your mouth just stayed open, letting him do whatever he wanted. soft whines and gasps vibrated against his tongue every time he thrust hard.
he pulled back only to kiss the corner of your lips, your cheek, the shell of your ear, then dove back in again. one hand stayed on your waist, the other reached under to rub slow circles on your clit. the dual sensation made you sob louder, legs trying to twitch but trapped between his.
“so fucking wet,” he whispered against your mouth, voice soft even as his hips snapped harder. “missed this. missed filling you up every day. my wife… my pretty little wife taking me so well.”
he edged you twice like that—slowing down right when you were about to tip over, grinding deep instead of thrusting, kissing you through the frustrated whimpers. then he’d pick the pace back up, rougher, deeper, until the squelching noises got louder and your sobs turned into desperate, hiccuping moans.
third time he didn’t stop.
you came hard, body shaking under him, pussy clenching so tight around his cock that he hissed. your face stayed smashed into the pillow, mouth open in a silent cry for a second before the sound broke free—high and wrecked. he fucked you through it, never pulling out, just slow deep rolls of his hips while you pulsed around him.
“good girl,” he praised, lips brushing your temple. “cum on my cock again, baby. wanna feel it.”
he didn’t let you come down. flipped you just enough to slide one arm under your chest, pulling your upper body slightly off the bed so he could kiss you better while still fucking you from behind. tongue in your mouth, lazy and filthy, matching the rhythm of his hips. you were completely brainless now—eyes half-lidded, tears clinging to your lashes, little whimpers every time he hit that spot inside you.
he kept going. minutes blurred. the wet sounds of your pussy, the slap of his hips against your ass, your muffled sobs and moans filling the room. his hand never left your clit, drawing another orgasm out of you until you were shaking so hard he had to hold you tighter.
“jaehyun… can’t—too much—”
“you can,” he said gently, kissing the side of your neck, then your jaw, then claiming your mouth again. “one more for me. my beautiful wife. let me have it.”
when he finally let himself finish, it was with a low groan against your lips, hips stuttering as he pumped you full again. he stayed buried deep, chest heaving against your back, arms wrapped around your small frame like he never wanted to let go. sweat slicked your skin. the snake tattoo on your back glistened under the low lamp light.
he kissed you again—slow, deep, tongue gently playing with yours even as you both tried to catch your breath. you were limp, fucked out, barely able to respond, but he still licked into your mouth like he couldn’t get enough.
“love you,” he whispered, voice hoarse but soft. dimples pressing into your shoulder as he smiled against your skin. “missed my wife so fucking much.”
he didn’t pull out yet. just held you there, cock still twitching inside you, kissing the back of your neck, your tattooed spine, murmuring praises while your body trembled with aftershocks.
Synopsis 𖦹.ᐟ : you were at a dead end with jobs so you decided to listen to your friend's advice and look for some rich family to look after but you weren't prepared to be faced with such a handsome man to be the dad.
Warning : mdni, unprotected sex, oral (f.rec) , p in v , fingering, multiple female orgasms, light nipple play.
Wc : 2.4k
A/n : this is for jaehyun's discharge finally 🔥🔥
You Look at the big house in front of you that might even be considered a Palace for you, you walk in your worn out converse to the door and knock on it waiting for someone to answer the door, rethinking your life decisions, you were here for a babysitting job, though you dislike kids, never was your cup of tea, you were here because well, let's say you need a part-time job, or something on the side to save up while being able to study, you were broke, your bank account having spider webs in it from how empty it was, you wouldn't even be able to be in college but you tried to apply for scholarships and you were lucky enough to get accepted, thankfully they provided dorms and breakfast, and since you come from not a very rich family, you had to get a job, as a barista, you worked as a bartender, but you'd last a semester before some of them shut down due to no customers.
Babysitting was never your cup of tea, you did it once when you were a teen to get some cash in summer and it was the worst experience of your life, all the crying, putting up a fight for stupid stuff, wanting to stay past bed time and not just listening–choosing to whine instead begging you to soften up and let them stay ‘five more minutes’ for the nth time. You couldn't handle it and it was the last time you even considered looking at children – or considering having one.
But your friend told you about these rich people and how they rarely even look after their own children so naturally they look for a babysitter, so naturally you gave the thought some time, and so you decided to look for some children to look after, looking through websites and parenting communities, your eyes full on one of the posts
‘Looking for a babysitter for my girl! She's 5 years old and needs someone to play with” so you send to them – assuming it's a mom not looking much into the profile
“Hello, ma'am I've seen your post about needing a babysitter and I was wondering if you're still available?”
sending a message like you did to the other parents.
It took a week for anyone to answer , you thought you were too late asking to be some kid babysitter– until you got a message
“Oh yes hello, thank god , may I ask when you are free?” They ask, a little too straightforward but sure
“I'm available tomorrow all day” you send after checking the account. It was anonymous, no profile photo, no name it only says jeong, what kind of name is that? You think but shrug it off , and it takes few minutes before they answer
“That's perfect , can you come tomorrow at 11 am?” They send and you raise an eyebrow. What kid would possibly be up at 11 am? But you send a quick message agreeing to the time regardless.
And here you are standing in front of the door, it was exactly 11 am. You waited outside for a minute before the door was opened and if you said this wasn't the most beautiful man you've seen, you'd be lying.
“Hello? I'm here for uh Mrs.jeong? Must be the wrong house-”
“No you're right, I'm mr.jeong” he says, his voice a bit deep it was almost scary, he moves away a bit and lets you in, you walk in looking at the minimalistic yet rich design
“I didn't quite catch your name” he says and you tell him your name
“Okay so we need to talk first” he says
“Oh it's okay I wait for Mrs.jeong” you smile awkwardly
“There's no Mrs.jeong” he says and your smile drops slightly, well shit you just embarrassed yourself in front of a man you've met a minute ago.
“Ah I see, well yeah sure” you nod and he leads you to the living room, he gives you his daughter's schedule and all the rules she has to follow and all the rules you have to follow.
“Are we clear here?” He asks and you nod awkwardly
“You'll be paid 500 per day” he says and suddenly the job isn't so scary
“When can I start?” You ask
“Now.” He says and stands up
“I have to go to work , she comes back from school at 2 pm” he clears, what type of job starts at 12 pm? You think internally but nod anyway, he hands you a paper with his number before leaving.
You hear a knock assuming it's his daughter, you open the door and there she was, looking like her father, she walks inside and raise an eyebrow at you but doesn't question anything regardless, she goes to her room to change out of her clothes, there were some food already prepared for her, probably made by a some expensive chef or something.
“So, do you like cartoons?” You ask nonchalantly and can see her eyes obviously spark up as she nods and after her meal you open a Disney film for her to watch, she pats next her signaling for you to sit and you do so, burying her face into your side before Turing her head to watch the cartoon.
Soon enough she was falling asleep on you, you turned off the TV and took her to her bed. And you stay in the living room until her dad comes home.
It has been two months since you started babysitting June, you've also gotten closer to Mr.jeong– who told you later to call him jaehyun, you never really questioned what happened to her mother, she never mentioned, there are no photos of her, did she give birth and leave? You didn't really care.
You knock on the door and wait til someone opens, jaehyun opens the door, standing there looking every inch of the rich man he is
“Oh hello y/n” he smiles softly, his deep dimples showing and honestly it take every ounce of control not to jump onto him and kiss him on the spot
“Oh hello jaehyun” you reply before walking into the house
“She didn't go to school today since she was sick, take good care of her okay?” He says and you nod
“Daddy?” You hear the little voice coming from behind jaehyun
“Sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?” He scolds lightly
“Can you stay home?” she pouts and looks up at him, her eyes looked droopy and looked adorable overall.
“Sorry sweetie but daddy gotta work okay? I'll try to come early” he says and gives her a kiss on the cheek before leaving.
You take her to her bed and tuck her in.
“I wish you were my mommy” she says suddenly and you giggle assuming it's just the fever talking
“I'm sure your mommy loves you more” you tease
“My mommy left me” she pouts
“I heard daddy say so before when he thought I was asleep” she pouts
“You should rest, I'll grab your medicine okay?” You say suddenly and leave the room, that's why there are no photos of the mysterious woman, June herself probably never met that woman, this poor kid knowing so much at such a young age, you shake your head and grab her medicine.
Jaehyun did come early as he promised but she was already deep in her sleep
“How is she doing now?” He asks worriedly
“She's fine now, her temperature is normal, she's just asleep” you say and he sighs gratefully
“Thank you y/n” he says and pulls out your money for the day but with extra cash, you were gonna refuse to take more money but it won't really matter to him so why the hell would you do that?, you take the money and put it in your bag and grab the bag before leaving.
Today was the weekend, which is usually when you don't go but jaehyun tells you it's ‘urgent matters’ so you go after he says he's going to pay you more, you arrive at 6 pm, which is a weird time but better than being awake at 11 am on a weekend.
You knock the door as usual and jaehyun opens after a minute as usual, he was wearing one of these expensive looking suits
“Hey Jaehyun, where is June?” You look around, used to June being around the door if she wasn't at school
“She's at her grandparents house” that makes you freeze, why the hell would he call
“So why did you call then?” You raise an eyebrow
“I wanna take you out” he says and you look at him like he's speaking a foreign language and then look at down at your your hoodie and the jeans that have had permanent pen stains on them
“Well I must be overdressed then” you say sarcastically earning a chuckle from him
“Well come in, I got you a present” he says and invites you inside
And leads you to his room which you remember was prohibited for you to enter and now he's inviting you to his bedroom you walk in after him and find a box sitting on the bed and he signals for you to open it
There was laying a gorgeous dress and a new pair of shoes which surprises you
“Oh wow that's- thank you” you say awkwardly
“Well wear it, I'll wait outside” he say and you nod
You get dressed and though you're wearing heels it felt nice to wear something other than these sneakers.
You walk out of the room and find jaehyun in the living room and his face lights up when he sees you, you notice his ears starting to redden up.
“Took you long enough” he teases showing off his dimples as he smirks slightly when you roll your eyes.
He takes you to one of these fancy restaurants where everyone is dressed like they're going to the met gala.
After you both order, you talk about things to keep the conversation going
“You know , June really likes you. She's had nannies and babysitters but she never liked them as she does with you.” He says and smiles slightly
“That's sweet, I don't even like kids but maybe I've changed my mind now, well kinda” you shrug and he chuckles
After eating the main course and dessert obviously he drives back to his house
“This was very nice jaehyun, I can't remember the last time I went out” you say and it is true, you only babysit June on your breaks and weekends when jaehyun is busy doing god knows what and you want to graduate so you go home and study your ass off falling asleep on the desk, yeah..not your best time.
“It's nothing, I do have to thank you for taking care of June after all” he says, his dimples popping.
He goes to the kitchen and pour you a glass of his finest wine, sliding the glass in front of you before pouring some for himself as well, his eyes stay fixed on you as you drink the red liquid
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask awkwardly
“Like what?” He teases and raises an eyebrow.
“I don't know, like you wanna eat me maybe?” You shrug and finish your drink
“Maybe I do” he says
“Well I give you permission to” you say sarcastically and you can see his eyes darken , he walks to you and helps you stand, his hand on the small of your back leading you to his bedroom.
“Daddy must be starving huh?” You chuckle and he smiles
“Oh you don't wanna know” he pushes you onto the bed , he unbuckles his belt and removes his dress shirt , your dress was short enough he can see a hit of your white panties.
He climbs on top of you and leans down peppering kisses over your neck and chest
And bites down on your neck before pulling away, sliding down to your core, he pushes your dress up and slides your panties to the side burying his face in your cunt, his tongue licking up and down your clit, your hips buckle your fingers gripping the sheets tightly as you let out weak moans, his fingers rise to your clit entering you which makes you gasp due to their low temperature, but get adjusted to it, he curls his fingers up which makes you grip on his fingers before coming all over his fingers.
When he's off you you can't help but stare at his sculpture abs and the happy trail on his abdomen leading to his cock, he takes his pants and boxers off showing off his thick and veiny length standing tall and proud over his stomach, he climbs on top of you again and looks down at you but slamming into you hitting your spot immediately, thrusting in and out of you the pleasure flying straight to your brain, you release a string of moans and whimes , begging him to fuck you even more and he doesn't miss a beat, and oh did he look dreamy, all sweaty and sticky, hair sticking to his forehead, his breath heavy , you were snapped out of your thoughts when he pinches one of your nipples making you wince and whimper in pain mixed with pleasure, you were reaching your climax, he felt it when your walls grip tightly on his cock milking him desperately your body aching for release, your eyes roll , hands gripping his shoulders pretty sure leaving marks there, as you come all over his dick, his pace fasten when he feels close not stopping even when you beg him weakly too tired to stop him, his pace slowing down when his loads empties in you filling you up with his white sticky liquid.
He lay next to you , you were almost passed out.
You wake up and find the bed empty and look around you to find jaehyun already awake and dressed up
“I'll go to work, June is coming at 5 pm” he says, his tone neutral
“Oh..yeah okay” you say awkwardly and grab your jeans and shirt that you were wearing
“You looked good yesterday” he says
“Oh yeah all thanks to you the dress-”
“I mean naked.” He cuts you off, teasing you and his lips curl into a knowing smirk when he sees your flushed face.
Summary: Just as you moved into your new apartment, you had one rule: don’t get involved with anyone. Work, sleep, repeat—that was the plan. But destiny had other ideas, placing the most infuriating, irresistible neighbor right next door, ready to turn your life upside down.
Tw?: explicit sexual scenes, emotional abuse, prolonged conflict and avoidance, family conflict, anger, shouting, and intense arguments, fire, property damage, strong language
Pairing: jaehyun x reader
Word Count: 23k
Author’s Note; I have this story in the works since January of 2023 and I just finished it :) I hope you like it because I LOVE IT 😁 it’s also not proofread and it might have some plot holes but work with me pls 🥹
Finding a place to rent these days? Nightmare. It took you three months to land an apartment that was actually worth your money and didn’t make you want to scream. Moving in, though? A dream. Space to yourself, freedom to do whatever you wanted—goodbye, years of awkward roommate drama. You’d worked hard for this, and it felt amazing.
Everything was perfect. Gorgeous apartment, good job, life basically handing you a little slice of happiness.
;
And then there was him. Jeong Jaehyun. That walking disaster of a neighbor. You didn’t hate easily—you’d always thought it was a waste of energy. But him? He tested every ounce of patience you had. Seriously, if aggravation was an Olympic sport, he’d have a gold medal.
So you did what any sane person would: avoided him like the plague. Every hallway encounter, every elevator ride—strategically ignored. Yet somehow, he always found a way to drive you absolutely insane. It was like he had a sixth sense for exactly how to get under your skin.
And yeah… you had to admit it. With a mix of shame and defeat, your stupid, infuriating, headache-inducing neighbor? Ridiculously good-looking. Fine, you’d give him that. But beauty didn’t cancel out his behavior. He was rude, obnoxious, and had zero manners. Basically, a nightmare wrapped in a ridiculously hot package. Honestly, how was it even fair that someone could look like a calendar model while also being a complete terror?
You told yourself firmly: “Do not get involved. Do not even THINK about him.” And yet, the universe had clearly decided your stubborn little heart needed a challenge. Jeong Jaehyun, congratulations—you were officially the worst thing to happen to a perfectly happy life.
As you exited the elevator, you spotted him—Jaehyun—leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone with that bored, infuriating expression he had perfected since the day you moved in. You should’ve kept walking. You really should’ve.
But he lifted his eyes the second he sensed you, like a shark smelling blood.
Perfect.
You walked past him, head high, pretending not to notice.
“Hold up,” he said lazily, stepping right into your path. “You’re going to just walk by without saying hello? Rude.”
“Move, Jeong.”
“Why?” he asked, tilting his head. “Scared?”
You rolled your eyes. “Of what? Your ego?”
“Ouch.” He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “Relax. I just wanted to let you know something.”
You didn’t stop. “Don’t care.”
That was when he dropped the bomb—quietly, intentionally, the way someone throws a dart at a target they’ve memorized.
“I saw the notice on your door this morning.”
You froze. Just half a second, but enough for him to catch it.
His smirk widened.
“Pathetic,” he said softly. “You’ve lived here two months and you’re already late on rent?”
Your heart stung. Not because he was right—he wasn’t—but because he was weaponizing something he had no right to touch. The “notice” wasn’t about rent; it was a simple package pickup slip taped wrong. But he didn’t know that. He didn’t need accuracy. He needed ammunition.
He stepped closer, voice dripping arrogance. “Figures… You look like the type who can barely hold their shit together.”
That.
Right there.
That’s what made your blood boil.
“That’s none of your business,” you snapped.
“Oh, trust me,” he said, leaning in just enough to tower over you, “everything about you is my business. You live next to me. Your problems spill over.”
You shoved him—not hard, just enough to get him out of your face.
“Don’t ever talk about me like you know anything,” you said.
He laughed. Actually laughed. “Or what? You’ll cry about it?”
The slap came before you could think. A sharp crack echoed through the hallway.
His cheek reddened. His smile vanished.
“You’re gonna wish you didn’t do that,” he said quietly—dangerously.
You held his gaze, voice low and steady. “Touch my life again, Jeong, and I swear I’ll make yours hell.”
Then you walked into your apartment, breath shaking with anger, not heartbreak, not weakness.
Once the door shut, you pressed your back to it, exhaling hard. Tears didn’t fall, but your hands trembled from pure adrenaline. You weren’t fragile—you were furious. And worse? You knew he was just getting started.
Because Jaehyun didn’t hate you.
He enjoyed ruining you.
And that made him ten times more dangerous.
A few days passed without seeing Jaehyun—miraculously. You credited that entirely to divine intervention. But, of course, your luck ran out the moment you stepped out in your peak fashion era: black t‑shirt, sweatpants, messy bun, and the “don’t even think about talking to me” energy.
Naturally, Jaehyun appeared at the exact same moment, looking like he’d walked straight out of a magazine—black slacks, crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to make your blood pressure spike.
He froze when he saw you.
You stared back blankly.
Then shut your door and walked on, perfectly ignoring him.
Unfortunately, he still had a functioning set of legs.
Of course, he used them. He whistled and stepped in front of you, leaning forward with that smug, infuriating grin. “Aaand where is this lovely lady going?”
“Out of my sight,” you muttered.
He ignored that completely. Of course he did. He reached out, plucking your hand as if it belonged to him, and pressed it dramatically to his chest.
“Feel that? My heart. It beats only for you.”
Your brain short-circuited. Why did that stupid word make your stomach flip? Why was your heart betraying you?
You yanked your hand back. “What the hell is your problem?”
He chuckled, because naturally he did. “You liked it.”
“N-no I didn’t,” you stammered, internally cursing yourself for almost believing him.
He smirked like he’d just won the lottery. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
You shoved past him. “Better luck next time, asshole.”
But, naturally, he wasn’t done. He caught your arm—not hard, just enough to frustrate you into a frenzy.
You glared. “What!!”
He tilted his head, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face. “You’re cute when you’re mad. Did you know that?”
You pushed harder. “I am not cute. I am furious. And you’re the absolute worst human being I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe. But admit it… you love hating me,” he said, stepping aside just enough to mock you.
Finally, you freed your arm and stormed off, chest puffed out, adrenaline mixing with triumph. Victory felt sweet. You weren’t falling for his nonsense—not today, not tomorrow.
The truth?
You were done letting Jaehyun think he could push you around.
He wanted to play games? Fine. You were ready to play smarter.
And this time, you’d win.
You genuinely loved your work. Every late night, every tight deadline—it all mattered because it got you here, to a place where you could live comfortably, have your own space, and build a life you were proud of. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Some days, though, managing it all felt like juggling flaming swords while blindfolded. And after those days, the only thing you craved was the moment you could return to your apartment—the ultimate reward. The idea of curling up in your own space, sinking into a hot bath, and falling asleep without a single interruption made your heart race in the best kind of way.
But apparently, the universe disagreed.
Because of course, God—or whatever cosmic force enjoyed making your life difficult—had other plans.
You hadn’t seen him all day, and for a fleeting, blissful moment, you thought maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to ruin today.
Ha.
Ha. Ha.
You should have known better.
As you rounded the corner to your building, there he was—Jaehyun. Leaning casually against the railing, looking impossibly put-together, as if the universe had designed him specifically to test your patience. That smug grin on his face was all the warning you needed: your peaceful evening had just officially ended.
~
You froze mid-step, just a heartbeat away from your apartment door.
“Evening,” he said, voice smooth, dripping with amusement. “Looks like someone’s in a hurry to get home.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re everywhere today.”
“Unfortunately,” he said, shrugging like it was a burden to exist in this universe at the same time as you, “I still have a set of legs. And apparently, good timing.”
Your chest tightened with irritation. He wasn’t just a nuisance—he was a storm in human form, the kind of storm that made you rethink the very concept of peace.
You tried sidestepping him, sliding past as if he were a shadow. But he shifted, deliberately, blocking your path with the grace of someone who had spent years perfecting the art of annoyance.
“Going somewhere… or just pretending you’re ignoring me?” he teased, voice low enough to make your teeth grit.
“I’m going somewhere that doesn’t involve talking to you,” you said sharply, tugging your bag closer.
He leaned just enough to mock you. “Ah, that’s the problem with you. You always think you can escape. But the universe seems to think otherwise.”
You rolled your eyes. Universe, fate, whatever—he wasn’t supposed to be a part of your evening. And yet, here he was, grinning like he owned the world, like he had every right to invade your perfectly ordinary life.
You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. Your glare alone seemed to irritate him enough to keep that stupid smirk firmly in place.
And as you finally pushed past him, heading for your apartment, you felt it—the familiar, infuriating tension that he brought with him.
~
Yes. You hated him.
Yes. He drove you insane.
Yes. You wanted nothing more than to avoid him entirely.
And yet…
Part of you was already bracing for the next encounter.
Because Jaehyun wasn’t going anywhere.
Not today.
Not tomorrow.
And definitely not anytime soon.
__
~FLASHBACK~
The moment you stepped into your apartment lobby that first day, you never imagined it would feel like stepping into a battlefield. Boxes stacked high, a fresh smell of paint in the air, and your hopes for a calm, quiet start—all of it ready to be dismantled.
And then, of course, he appeared.
Jaehyun.
You don’t remember the exact first words that passed between you—maybe it was a grunt, maybe a sarcastic “watch where you’re going”—but you remember the feeling. That instant, undeniable spark of irritation that made your skin crawl. He wasn’t just annoying; he was audacious in a way that demanded attention, even when you were trying your hardest to ignore him.
He had moved in the day before you—or maybe the week before—but somehow, in those first few minutes of seeing him striding through the lobby like he owned the place, you knew that nothing in your perfectly structured life would ever be the same.
At first, it was small things.
He played his music too loud when he thought no one was home. He leaned on the shared walls in ways that rattled your bookshelves. He had this infuriating grin every time your mail got delivered late, or when the elevator doors closed just before you could make it. Every little thing felt personal. And in your mind, it was.
The worst, though, was his confidence bordering on arrogance. He moved through the building like the entire complex revolved around him. Every time you tried to establish boundaries—your space, your routines, your peace—he tested them. Pushed them. Broke them with a smug smile like it was a sport.
And then came the incident.
You had spent weeks, maybe even months, meticulously moving into your apartment. Every box unpacked, every corner cleaned, every corner of your sanctuary arranged just the way you wanted. You were exhausted but proud. That evening, you had dropped onto the sofa with a sigh of relief, ready to finally relax.
And there he was.
Jaehyun, leaning against your railing—not even in your apartment yet—holding a package he had “borrowed” from the lobby. Not your package. Not even anything related to you. But the way he had looked at it, smirked, and then glanced at you like it was some sort of joke… you could feel the irritation boiling through your veins.
He had said something like, “Careful, some of us actually try to live in peace around here.”
You hadn’t been in the mood for sarcasm. Not that anyone ever was with him. But it didn’t matter. Something in the way he said it, the way he looked at you like he owned the world, was enough to make a line in your brain snap.
And that was when it truly began.
Your hatred, his irritation—whatever he felt toward you, whatever you felt toward him—it was a mix of pride, ego, and pure clash of personalities. You were meticulous, orderly, careful. He was chaos incarnate, unapologetic and infuriatingly confident. Every interaction sparked friction. Every word, every look, every smirk added fuel to a fire neither of you could—or wanted—to put out.
It didn’t take long for the building’s other tenants to notice. You two weren’t just neighbors; you were adversaries. A war in miniature. People might have thought it was amusing, but for you, it was serious.
You tried to maintain your distance, to keep your life separate, to enforce some sense of peace. But he always found a way to cross that invisible line. Small provocations, loud enough to be noticed, pointed remarks, deliberate teasing… all of it escalating.
And somehow, it always ended with the same result: he left smirking, satisfied with himself, and you were left fuming, plotting, and utterly convinced that he was the worst human being alive.
The funny thing—or maybe the tragic thing—was that this rivalry didn’t just exist on the surface.
It seeped into everything.
Every time you heard his footsteps, your brain went on alert. Every time you rounded a corner and saw that smirk, your chest tightened with that familiar mix of anger and… something else you couldn’t name. You didn’t like him. You hated him. And yet, your world had unknowingly started orbiting around the chaos he brought.
Because Jaehyun wasn’t just a neighbor.
He was the storm that refused to leave.
And as far as you were concerned, storms were dangerous. But they were also… impossible to ignore
__
You shook your head, forcing yourself back into the present. Memories of all those early confrontations—the sharp words, the stolen moments of triumph, the constant mental tug-of-war—made your chest tighten.
And yet, there he was again. Leaning against the railing just like he had on that first day, looking far too perfect for anyone to hate him properly. Somehow, he still managed to radiate chaos, the kind that made it impossible to walk past without a flare of irritation.
“Funny running into you… again,” he drawled, that same infuriating grin teasing the edges of his face.
“Funny, huh?” you replied, voice clipped. “I was hoping I’d finally have a peaceful evening.”
He snorted. “Peaceful? Around me? Now that’s ambitious.”
You ignored him and started walking toward your door, bag swinging slightly. He moved, as always, to block your path.
“Running late, as usual,” he said, stepping closer. “Or just trying to escape me?”
“Trying to escape the embodiment of chaos,” you said sharply, stepping around him.
He mirrored your movement effortlessly, smirk widening. “Chaos, huh? I like that. Makes life… interesting.”
You stopped, hands on your hips. “Interesting? You mean infuriating. I’ve spent years building routines, and you break them every time you show up.”
“Maybe I like seeing you react,” he said casually, leaning on the wall like he had all the time in the world. “Keeps me entertained.”
Your teeth clenched. “Entertained? I am not a source of amusement, Jaehyun.”
He shrugged, all innocence and arrogance wrapped into one perfectly maddening package. “That’s what makes it fun.”
You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. And, naturally, he grinned.
__
The next evening, the sky had darkened into a bruised purple, and rain lashed against your windows with a steady, relentless beat. You were curled up on the sofa, finally ready to unwind, when a frantic knock shattered the quiet.
Your first thought was, Who the hell could that be at this hour?
You opened the door, and your heart skipped—half in irritation, half in disbelief. There he was. Jaehyun. Hair plastered to his head, jacket soaked, eyes wide with panic, holding nothing but a small bag.
“What…?” you began, narrowing your eyes.
“I—my apartment,” he stammered, voice tight and uncharacteristically shaky. “There’s… uh… a fire. Small, maybe, but… it’s not habitable. The fire department took care of it but I need… somewhere to stay.”
Your stomach dropped. You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You’re not supposed to feel anything for him. And yet…
“You’re asking to stay… here?” you said slowly, disbelief coloring your tone.
“Yes,” he admitted, finally meeting your eyes. Vulnerable, raw. “Just… for the night. Or until it’s… you know, fixed.”
There it was. The old Jaehyun bravado gone, replaced by someone who looked almost human, desperate. And your pulse betrayed you with a flutter you didn’t want to admit.
“Fine,” you said sharply, stepping aside. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it. And don’t touch anything.”
He nodded quickly, almost embarrassed by the compliance. “I won’t. I promise.”
You moved through the apartment, tense and precise, pointing out the sofa and making it clear he was to stay in his corner. He settled, still shivering from the rain, and the awkward silence was thick, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Finally, he muttered, almost to himself, “I hate having to rely on anyone.”
“You hate relying on me in particular,” you snapped, crossing your arms.
He flinched, then let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Yeah… well, it’s… complicated.”
The storm outside pounded against the windows, echoing the storm in your chest. Here he was, frustrating, infuriating, right there in your space—and yet somehow… fragile.
You tried to remind yourself that this didn’t mean anything. It was a practical arrangement. Temporary. Necessary. Nothing more.
But as the evening dragged on, his presence became a quiet pressure. Small things—like him brushing past to grab a blanket, or cursing under his breath at the cold, wet socks—made your chest tighten.
“Don’t think this makes you less insufferable,” you said finally, tone sharp.
“Good,” he replied, voice low, almost teasing, though the edge of vulnerability remained. “Wouldn’t want to be.”
You glared at him. He smirked. The fire between you—hate, frustration, irritation—was alive and crackling. But underneath, subtle and undeniable, was something else. Something neither of you dared to name.
And as the night settled around the apartment, the rain tapping a steady rhythm, you realized this: Jaehyun was closer than ever. And whether you liked it or not, this storm—both outside and between you—was far from over.
__
The apartment was quiet, save for the rain tapping against the windows. You tried to curl up on the sofa, wrapping the blanket tightly around yourself, determined to reclaim your evening. But Jaehyun’s presence made the air feel heavy, charged, impossible to ignore.
He shifted on the couch, stretching slightly, and—of course—his leg brushed yours. You jerked back instinctively, glaring at him.
“Careful,” you snapped, trying to sound annoyed. Your chest betrayed you with a quickening pulse, though you refused to acknowledge it.
“I am careful,” he said, voice low, teasing, with just the faintest edge that made your stomach twist. “Wouldn’t want to provoke you… though it’s tempting.”
Tempting. The word hit like fire.
You tried to ignore him, tried to focus on your book, but every subtle movement he made—the shift of his shoulder, the way his hand brushed over his jacket—was like electricity against your nerves.
“Do you ever just… stay still?” you muttered, frustration lacing your tone. “Or is being insufferable your full-time job?”
He smirked, leaning just a fraction closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “I like watching you react,” he murmured, voice low and rough, almost a growl. “It’s… satisfying.”
You froze. Hate and desire tangled inside you, sharp and confusing. “You’re impossible,” you hissed, fists curling in your lap.
“And yet… here we are,” he said, leaning forward, lips dangerously close to your ear. “You can’t hide it forever.”
Your breath caught. You shoved him—hard enough to startle him, but not away completely. He grinned, clearly enjoying the push-pull.
“Stay away,” you snapped, voice shaky despite your determination.
“Not a chance,” he whispered, low, arrogant, and so close you could feel his warmth. “You drive me insane. And I like it.”
Like it. Not gentle. Not soft. Just that sharp, infuriating, teasing edge that made you want to slap him… and also… not pull away.
Your chest tightened, mind spinning. Hate and frustration battled desire, your body betraying you with every brush of his leg against yours, every subtle movement that made the air between you sizzle.
You shifted on the sofa, trying to create some space, but it was useless. Every time you moved, he adjusted, so your bodies remained dangerously close, heat radiating off each other.
“I don’t even know why I put up with you,” you muttered, voice tight, trying to mask the tremor in your chest.
“Because I annoy you in all the right ways?” he shot back, smirk wide, eyes gleaming with mischief. His leg brushed yours again—harder this time—and a jolt of heat shot through your body.
You jerked away, frustration burning hotter than embarrassment. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he murmured, leaning forward, lowering his voice, “you’re still here.”
Your chest heaved, pulse thundering, as his gaze pinned yours. The tension coiled between you, electric and raw, making it impossible to think straight.
Before you could protest, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours.
This wasn’t a brief peck. This was a full-blown, greedy kiss—demanding and insistent. Your body reacted instantly: your hands shot to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed to resist. His lips moved over yours with a practiced confidence, teasing and claiming, and every brush of his tongue set your nerves on fire.
You tried to push him, tried to break free, but it was useless. He was relentless, pressing his body against yours, one hand curling around your waist while the other tangled in your hair. Heat flared in your stomach, spreading through every nerve ending, and your resistance began to crumble, little by little.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark, smirk teasing but fierce. “See?” he whispered, low and rough. “You wanted that.”
“I—” you gasped, lips still tingling, chest heaving. “I… hate you!”
“And yet…” he leaned in again, capturing your lips with a second, harder kiss, “here you are.”
Your hands clawed at him, half in protest, half in desperate need. Every nerve in your body screamed, your mind spinning with frustration, desire, and fury all at once. The kiss deepened, long and hungry, tongues dancing, breaths mingling, leaving no doubt: the line between hate and desire had blurred entirely.
When he finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, breaths ragged. Both of you were flushed, heated, and impossibly close—neither willing to admit what had just happened, yet neither able to deny it.
The room was silent except for your ragged breathing, but the tension—dark, electric, unbearable—lingered, heavier than ever.
__
The rain didn’t stop. Not once. Not even for a minute. Thunder rolled in the distance, lightning flashing intermittently, casting fleeting shadows across your apartment. Every day felt the same: gray, damp, wet, and loud with the constant drumming of rain against the windows.
Jaehyun was still sprawled on your sofa, a blanket draped over his shoulders, smirking as though he owned the place entirely.
“Do you ever sleep?” you asked, arms crossed, glaring at him from the doorway. Your hair was damp from trying to keep it dry while running errands in the downpour, your sweatpants sticking slightly to your skin.
He yawned, stretching, and his leg brushed yours as he shifted. “Sleep is optional,” he said lazily. “Teasing you… far more important.”
You groaned, rubbing your temples. “This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. And this rain is ridiculous.”
“Rain?” he echoed, smirk widening. “I think it’s perfect. Adds ambiance. Sets the mood. Makes our little… coexistence… more exciting.”
You rolled your eyes so hard you were pretty sure he could feel it. “Exciting? You’re soaking up my couch, stealing my food, and acting like you’re the only person in this apartment building. That’s your idea of exciting?”
He laughed, low and infuriating, the sound echoing against the walls. “You love it.”
“I do not!” you snapped, but even as the words left your mouth, the damp heat of his body close to yours made your pulse race. He was a constant brush of danger—annoying, infuriating, and… uncomfortably magnetic.
The rain kept falling, a relentless, pounding reminder that the world outside was gray and wet—and inside, tension and frustration were rising like steam from the kettle. Every day became the same:
• He would “accidentally” brush against you while reaching for something.
• You would glare, shove, or snap, and he would smirk, basking in the tiny victories.
• You debated how much of your groceries he had to pitch in for, joking that he was basically paying “rent in flirtation.”
• Thunder rolled. Rain soaked the windows. Lightning lit up his smirk in flashes, making it impossible to look away.
One evening, after a particularly violent storm rattled the apartment walls, you both ended up in the kitchen at the same time, trying to grab the last mug of hot chocolate. Your hands collided, fingers tangling, and the small touch sent sparks shooting through both of you.
He raised an eyebrow, lips curved into that infuriating smirk. “Careful,” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “At this rate, I might have to kiss you.”
Your heart skipped. “I… hate you!” you snapped, yanking your hand free, though your body betrayed you, warmth spreading through your chest and stomach.
“Uh-huh,” he said, stepping closer despite your retreat. “Sure you do.”
And the storm outside mirrored everything inside—the heat, the frustration, the tension, and the unspoken desire. The rain would not stop. And neither would the sparks between you.
__
The rain still hammered against the windows like a relentless drum, lightning stabbing through the gray sky, thunder rolling in deep, low rumbles that made your chest tighten. The apartment felt smaller than usual, cramped by the constant sound of the storm outside—and by Jaehyun, who leaned against the doorway like he owned the space, smirk firmly in place.
You were perched on the edge of the sofa, arms crossed, a blanket around your shoulders. He had spent the afternoon moving lazily from the armchair to the window, watching the rain, and every now and then his gaze flicked toward you. It wasn’t teasing in the obvious way today—it was quiet, deliberate, and somehow more dangerous.
“Do you ever get used to this?” you asked, voice low, keeping your eyes on the book in your lap, though you weren’t reading a word.
“Get used to what?” he drawled, stepping closer, each footfall echoing slightly against the wooden floor.
“This… this rain, this… being trapped in here with you.”
He tilted his head, dark eyes glinting. “Trapped? I don’t feel trapped.”
“You’re infuriating,” you muttered, ignoring the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours as he passed.
“And yet,” he murmured, voice low, just behind your ear, “you haven’t left.”
You shivered, though it wasn’t just the damp chill from the storm. Heat pooled low in your stomach, your body betraying your mind in the most inconvenient way possible.
He sat on the arm of the sofa opposite you, knees dangerously close. The tension between you had shifted—not teasing in the bright, sarcastic way it usually was—but sharp, charged, intimate. Every glance, every subtle movement, every brush of his knee against the side of yours was a spark waiting to ignite.
“You’re… quiet today,” he said, voice soft but edged with something dangerous.
“I’m plotting my escape,” you replied, voice tight, though your pulse betrayed you. “Don’t get any ideas.”
He leaned forward, hands braced on his knees, gaze locked on yours. “Ideas are hard to control when you’re this close.”
Your chest tightened, heart hammering. You wanted to push him away, but your body reacted against your will. You could feel the heat of his presence, the way his leg brushed subtly against yours, the low intensity of his stare pressing into your skin.
Then, without warning, he closed the last inch between you and pressed his lips to yours. This time it wasn’t playful or teasing—it was slow, consuming, and deliberate. Your lips parted instinctively, responding even as your mind screamed to resist. Hands pressed against his chest for balance, for space, for control—but the pressure of his body against yours was relentless.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breaths mingling. The storm outside roared, but inside, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you, heat and tension twisting tight in the small space.
“You’re… impossible,” you whispered, voice rough, chest heaving.
“I know,” he murmured, smirk teasing the corners of his lips, though his eyes were darker, more intense than usual. “And yet…”
“You’re infuriating,” you snapped, though your fingers itched to touch him again, to pull him closer despite every part of you that wanted to maintain control.
“And yet,” he repeated, voice low, “…here we are.”
-
The morning after the kiss—or whatever that was—Jaehyun was gone. Your apartment was quiet, the rain outside still drumming against the windows, but the suffocating tension that had filled the air was gone with him.
You breathed a small, almost embarrassed sigh of relief. Finally, some space. Some distance. Some room to think without him leaning too close, smirking, or testing the limits of your patience.
And yet, the memory of him lingered—his smirk, the way his body had pressed against yours, the low teasing in his voice. You hated it. You hated him. But somehow… part of you ached for it too.
The day went on, uneventful in appearance, but your thoughts were anything but. You went to work, focused on your projects, trying to shove the memory of him and that kiss into a box in the back of your mind.
Then, later that evening, as you walked back through the lobby of your apartment building, you caught sight of him. Across the hallway. His hair was damp from a drizzle outside. He didn’t smile, didn’t smirk, didn’t approach. Just… stared.
Your chest tightened. That familiar rush of irritation and desire collided in your veins, making you want to turn and run, and yet some ridiculous part of you wanted to confront him.
“Go away,” you muttered under your breath, though you weren’t sure if you were telling him or yourself.
He raised an eyebrow. “You first,” he called lightly, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—something unreadable. And then, just like that, he was gone.
You exhaled shakily, wondering what the hell was happening to you. You hated him. Absolutely hated him. And yet… you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
__
The next few days felt… different. You moved through your routine with careful focus, determined to ignore him entirely. And yet, fate—or whatever cruel trick it enjoyed playing—kept him lingering on the edges of your life.
It started with the little things. In the elevator, your shoulders brushed slightly as you both reached for the same button. In the lobby, he leaned against the railing as if the building itself had been built for him to watch you pass. At the café you frequented, he appeared in the corner of your vision, casually sipping a latte, watching, smirking.
Each encounter set your nerves on edge. You hated it. Absolutely hated him. And yet… your pulse betrayed you every single time.
One rainy afternoon—you had refused to let him see how annoyed you were—you stormed into the lobby, umbrella dripping, frustration bubbling from the day at work. And there he was, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk fixed firmly in place.
“Bad day?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.
“Mind your own business,” you snapped, stomping past him.
He moved just enough to block your path, though, forcing you to stop. The air between you felt charged, electric. You could smell the faint rain on him, hear the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
“Don’t walk away,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours. “I’m not done talking.”
“You’re never done talking,” you shot back, though your hands twitched, itching to shove him or… God, you didn’t even know.
He smirked, tilting his head. “Maybe I like that you fight back. Makes it… fun.”
Fun. That word hit your chest harder than it should have. You clenched your fists, frustration twisting in your stomach. “You are impossible,” you hissed, spinning past him, leaving him staring after you like he owned your attention.
And yet, as you walked away, a small, stubborn part of you wondered—why did your chest still pound when he smiled? Why did the memory of his lips linger in your mind, stubborn and infuriating?
The tension between you didn’t ease over the next days. Every encounter became a game: who could insult the other more cleverly, who could remain flustered without showing it, who could walk past without turning to stare. And all the while, the attraction simmered underneath, undeniable and unspoken, like a fire kept under ash, ready to flare at the slightest spark.
Even when he wasn’t around, you felt his presence: in the lingering irritation of your thoughts, in the way your pulse jumped at the sound of a familiar laugh echoing through the hallway.
Hate. Desire. Anger. Curiosity. They were all tangled together in ways you hadn’t admitted even to yourself. And somewhere deep down, you knew this slow-burning storm wasn’t going anywhere soon.
__
Jaehyun appeared at your door that evening without warning, shoulders slumped, eyes shadowed with something heavier than usual.
“What do you want?” you asked, arms crossed, heart racing despite your best effort to stay composed.
“I… needed to see you,” he said, voice low, almost too quiet to hear. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a heaviness that made your chest tighten.
You frowned. “For what?”
He hesitated, eyes flicking away, then back. “Closure… maybe. Or just to… talk.” He took a step closer, but the tension didn’t melt. It thickened. His proximity was maddening.
You sighed, but the familiar fire in your chest flared. “Talk about what, exactly? You can’t just show up here and—”
His lips cut you off, brushing against yours in a quick, sharp kiss. Not a peck—deliberate, testing, demanding attention. You shoved at him, but the movement only made him press closer, his hands tracing the edges of your arms as if weighing the fight against the longing.
“You’re… impossible,” you spat, breath shaky.
“And yet,” he murmured, voice rough, “here I am.”
Something in his tone, the sadness beneath the teasing, made your chest tighten. This wasn’t just lust. This wasn’t just the old game. He was struggling with something, letting it bleed into the tension between you. And despite yourself, the pull was undeniable.
Every accidental brush, every low, teasing remark carried weight now—pain, desire, anger. The air sizzled around you. Hate and want tangled together in every movement, every gaze.
You hated him. You hated the way your body betrayed you. You hated that you even cared that he was hurting. And yet, when his lips found yours again—longer, deeper, claiming—you couldn’t stop yourself from responding.
The doorway barely contained the heat between you as his lips pressed to yours again—longer, deeper, claiming. Every brush of his thigh against yours, every hand on your waist, every shiver in your spine ignited a fire you couldn’t suppress.
He tilted your head, lips moving over yours with a mix of dominance and need, testing boundaries, and you found yourself leaning into him despite your mind screaming to push away. His hands traveled up your sides, sliding under the hem of your shirt, tracing your curves, teasing your ribs and stomach, mapping you like he owned every inch of your skin.
You hissed as his teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging gently before letting go, only to trail kisses down your jaw to the curve of your neck. “You’re—dangerous,” you breathed, fingers clutching at the front of his shirt, nails grazing his chest.
“And yet, you let me do it,” he murmured, voice rough, vibrating against your skin. His hands slipped under your shirt entirely, palms pressing against bare skin, thumbs brushing over ribs and hips, teasing, claiming, demanding.
When he pressed forward into your body, your knees weakened. He moved you with ease through the doorway into your apartment, the click of the door behind him sealing the space in a private, charged bubble. Every step was deliberate, brushing, teasing, his chest and lips against yours, forcing you to feel every inch of him.
Once inside the bedroom, the room felt small, intimate. His hands left your waist for your back, pulling you to him fully, lips moving hungrily against yours. You stumbled back onto the bed together, tangled in sheets and limbs, hearts racing.
He paused for a moment, looking down at you with dark, intense eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to stop thinking about this?” he asked, voice low, full of frustration and need.
“I shouldn’t want this,” you spat, but your voice cracked, betraying you as your fingers ran through his hair, tugging him closer.
“Good,” he said, grinding his hips lightly against yours, the friction making your breaths catch. “Because I want this. All of it.”
Clothes became an obstacle quickly. Shirts were tugged off, buttons undone, skirts lifted, pants slid down, all with a mix of teasing and rough urgency. Every brush of skin against skin was electric, your bodies learning, memorizing each other in the heat of desire.
He kissed you everywhere—neck, collarbone, the hollow beneath your jaw—pausing only to bite, tease, and hear your sharp intake of breath. You pushed him, trying to regain control, but he rolled you gently onto your back, hovering above, lips teasing, hands roaming.
“You’re not allowed to fight me right now,” he whispered, thumb brushing over your sensitive spots, eliciting moans and hisses from you. “Not when you’ve been thinking about me like this for months.”
You gasped, nails raking down his back as his mouth found yours again, teeth nipping gently before kissing hard, claiming, pulling at every nerve. He ground against you, each movement teasing, testing, pushing, and you matched him, arching, bucking, desperate for friction, for contact, for release.
Hours passed in a rhythm of push and pull, fight and surrender—hands gripping sheets, hair, shoulders; teeth grazing skin; moans and whispered curses filling the room. Every argument, every insult, every playful taunt became fuel for the fire, a dangerous dance of hate and lust that left neither of you able to look away or stop.
When he finally entered you, slow and deliberate at first, then with increasing urgency, the world narrowed to skin, heat, and tension. Every thrust was a mixture of desire, frustration, and power—the enemies-to-lovers tension exploding in every movement. You gasped, moaned, arched, and clawed at him while shoving and pulling, arguing with every touch even as your body betrayed your words.
Your climax came first, shivering, moaning his name against his chest, and he followed, lips pressing to yours, teeth grazing, whispering curses, sighs, and your name as he collapsed beside you.
Both of you lay tangled in sweat and sheets, breathing hard, hearts racing, eyes locked. The tension didn’t vanish—it lingered, a low-burning mix of hate, desire, and something neither of you dared to name yet, leaving you both trembling and aware of how irrevocably dangerous this connection had become.
__
Three days had passed since that night, and neither of you had acknowledged it. Not a word. Not a look beyond the casual nod. And yet, the air around him seemed different. He walked past you in the lobby, but the slight brush of his shoulder against yours made your pulse spike despite the casual expression you plastered on your face.
“Morning,” he said, low, clipped, as if it were nothing, yet the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement—or was it smugness? You couldn’t tell.
“Morning,” you replied, hands full of your bag, refusing to look at him directly.
Later, in the hallway, he blocked your path—not fully, just enough that you had to glance up to meet his eyes. “You forgot something?” he asked, arching a brow, voice smooth as silk but edged with mischief.
“Forgot what?” you snapped, though your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag.
“That I can remember everything,” he said, brushing past you with his usual arrogant smirk, thigh grazing yours just long enough to make you flinch and heart thud in a way that made you scowl.
You wanted to be furious, to shove him away, to tell him off for the lingering effect he had on you, but… you didn’t. Your pulse betrayed you, and he noticed. Of course, he noticed.
“Still walking funny,” he teased later that evening when he passed you again, “like you’re remembering something… or someone.”
“Shut up,” you hissed, cheeks heating, yet part of you couldn’t help the smirk tugging at your lips. You hated that he had this effect on you.
The tension between you thickened with each encounter:
• The elevator rides, too close, casual hands brushing.
• The lobby banter, sharp words laced with subtle flirtation.
• The quiet, unspoken acknowledgment of that night—never named, always lingering.
You argued, you teased, you fought, and yet the lingering fire from that night never fully went out. Each day was a careful balance of hate, frustration, and undeniable attraction, a slow burn that neither of you wanted to admit.
And neither of you did.
But everyone else in the building? Probably knew …
__
You hadn’t seen Jaehyun since the moment in the elevator, not properly. Just glances in hallways, stupid smirks, the brush of his arm when he walked past you like he couldn’t resist getting too close.
Every time, it made your stomach twist in a way you hated.
Like this morning.
He caught your eye across the hallway, leaned against a locker, arms crossed, expression bored—until he saw you. His lips tilted up, slow and infuriating, like he knew exactly what memory he was putting back in your head.
You rolled your eyes and kept walking.
He still let his shoulder hit yours lightly when he passed by.
Not hard—but intentional.
“Watch it,” you muttered.
“Why?” he murmured, barely turning his head. “You never complain when I’m closer than this.”
Your face heated immediately.
“Go to hell.”
He chuckled under his breath, the deep kind that hit annoyingly low in your spine. Then he walked off like nothing mattered, like you didn’t still think about how he sounded above you that night.
It was the usual.
Annoying.
Distracting.
Predictable.
Until the afternoon.
That’s when everything went to shit.
You had stopped by the small convenience store near campus to grab gum, and when you stepped outside, you froze.
A girl—maybe sixteen, maybe seventeen—was sitting on the curb with two heavy grocery bags, scrolling her phone with a look of defeat on her face.
You recognized her instantly.
His sister.
The one he kept private.
The one he never talked about unless someone dragged it out of him.
You hesitated, because this was a part of his life you’d never been near.
But the bags looked heavy, and the girl looked frustrated, and it felt too cruel to walk past.
You walked over, slow.
“Hey… do you need help?”
She looked up, surprised—and then her eyes widened. “Oh! You’re—uh—Jaehyun’s friend, right?”
Friend.
You almost choked, but sure. Whatever.
“Something like that,” you said. “Are you okay?”
“My bus didn’t come, and these are for dinner, and if I’m late again Jaehyun’s gonna freak out,” she groaned, pushing her hair back. “He stress-cooks. It’s weird.”
That pulled a laugh out of you. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”
Before you could think twice, you said, “I can walk with you. It’s not far.”
She blinked, surprised, then smiled. “Really? Thank you.”
You grabbed one of the bags.
She grabbed the other.
And you walked.
The conversation was light, harmless. She was sweet, talkative, completely oblivious to anything between you and Jaehyun.
But halfway there, she sighed.
“I hate that he doesn’t let me do anything alone. He tries, but he’s always worrying. He acts like Mom’s about to check in on us any second.”
The words stuck in your brain.
His mom didn’t live with them.
You knew that much.
And clearly, it wasn’t an easy subject.
“I’m sure he just cares,” you said gently.
“He needs to chill,” she grumbled. “I’m not a baby.”
It wasn’t your place.
You knew it wasn’t your place.
But something in you—curious, soft, stupid—said:
“Maybe I can talk to him? Tell him you’re responsible enough?”
Her eyes lit up. “Would you?”
And that was the moment you crossed the line.
You didn’t mean to interfere.
You definitely didn’t mean to betray Jaehyun’s trust.
But she looked so relieved, and you didn’t think it through.
When you reached their street, she hugged you quickly before running inside.
You didn’t follow.
You left.
And you thought that was the end of it.
It wasn’t.
__
You saw him that evening.
He approached you fast—too fast—not in the teasing way, but with a controlled, sharp energy you had never seen from him.
“Come here,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t a request.
He pulled you aside behind the building, jaw tight, eyes cold.
“What the hell were you doing with my sister?”
You froze.
Your mouth opened.
Closed.
“I—she needed help with the groceries—”
“I don’t care about the groceries.” His voice cut through yours, low but vibrating with anger he was barely holding. “Why were you talking to her about me?”
Your heart dropped.
“You told her I should stop worrying about her.”
“That’s not what I—”
“You tried to get involved in how I handle my family.”
You swallowed hard. “I wasn’t trying to—Jaehyun, I swear, I was just—”
“You were just overstepping,” he snapped.
You flinched.
He wasn’t yelling, but it was worse—this was disappointment, hurt, and anger tangled together.
“I told you before,” he said slowly, breathing uneven, “there are things in my life you don’t get to touch. And you went and touched them anyway.”
“I was trying to help,” you whispered.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
He stepped back like he couldn’t stand how close he’d gotten. “You had no right.”
You felt your throat tighten.
He shook his head once, jaw clenching hard.
“For someone who hates me so much,” he said bitterly, “you sure act like you get a say in what I do.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” he said, voice dropping even lower, “what you did wasn’t fair.”
Silence.
Painfully heavy.
He inhaled once, sharply, like he was swallowing the rest of what he wanted to say.
Then he turned away.
“Don’t talk to me.”
He didn’t look back.
He just walked off, leaving you standing there with the sickening realization that one small choice—one moment of wanting to do something good—just ruined everything.
You didn’t sleep that night.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the way Jaehyun looked at you—like you weren’t someone he argued with or teased anymore, but someone who genuinely disappointed him.
You kept replaying the moment over and over.
His voice.
His jaw tightening.
The way he stepped back from you like your presence itself hurt.
You’d never seen him like that.
Not toward you.
And the worst part?
He meant every word when he said don’t talk to me.
__
The next morning, you spotted him in the hallway.
He saw you, too.
You knew the exact second he did, because his expression shut down instantly—like flipping a switch—and he turned the other way without hesitation.
No smirk.
No comment.
Not even a glare.
Just… nothing.
It hurt more than you expected.
You weren’t supposed to care.
You weren’t supposed to feel anything beyond annoyance.
But your stomach twisted painfully, and you hated it.
You hated that one fight—one mistake—could shift the entire dynamic between you so violently.
You tried not to stare at him.
You failed.
You watched him walk away, watched the tense set of his shoulders, watched the way he didn’t look back even once.
It was the first time he ever ignored you.
The first time he didn’t have some snarky remark ready.
The first time his silence felt like a punishment.
Later that evening, you stepped out of your building, needing air more than anything.
Your head was a mess — the fight replaying over and over, his face when he realized what you’d done, the disappointment that sank deeper than anger ever could.
You weren’t expecting to see him.
But there he was.
Jaehyun stood outside on the sidewalk, just a few steps from the entrance.
Hands in his pockets, shoulders tight, staring at nothing — the way someone stares when their mind is chewing them alive.
He didn’t notice you at first.
The streetlights cast a faint gold on his face, making him look even more exhausted than earlier — tired in a way that went past the body and into the bones.
His phone buzzed once.
He looked at the screen.
Locked it again without answering.
You didn’t know why that made your chest twist harder.
“…Jaehyun?” you said softly.
He turned slightly, just enough to acknowledge you.
Not enough to actually look at you.
And that small movement felt like a punch.
“Are you—Are you okay?” you asked.
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t scoff. He didn’t throw a sarcastic comment like he normally would.
He just said, quietly, “Don’t.”
You froze. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t pretend we’re suddenly close,” he said, eyes still fixed on the dim street ahead. “Not after today.”
Your stomach dropped.
“I wasn’t pretending,” you whispered.
That made him finally look at you — but only with the kind of expression that tears you apart because it’s not anger.
It’s disappointment.
“You crossed a line,” he said. “And the worst part? You don’t even understand how deep it was.”
You swallowed, heat rising in your chest, in your eyes.
“Then tell me,” you said, voice cracking against your will. “Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”
He let out a slow breath, shaking his head lightly.
“You shouldn’t have been around my family,” he said. Not loud. Not harsh. Just… drained. “That was the one thing I kept separate. The one thing I didn’t want you involved in.”
“I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know,” he cut in. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt anything. But intention doesn’t erase the line.”
A car drove by, the sound filling the silence between you for a moment.
Then he murmured, “I can’t do this right now.”
That sentence hurt far more than if he had yelled.
“Jaehyun, wait—”
He stepped back.
Not abruptly.
Just far enough that you could feel the space he was putting between you.
“I need time,” he said, eyes on the pavement. “Away from you.”
He turned and walked toward the side street.
He didn’t look back.
And you stood there under the streetlights, heart pounding so loud it hurt, realizing:
This wasn’t just a fight.
This was distance.
Real distance.
And it was only the beginning.
__
The next few days were brutal.
Not in the sense that something catastrophic happened — no fire, no accident, no storm — but because every encounter with Jaehyun became a war in itself. A quiet, invisible war where neither of you said much, but the air between you screamed.
You caught glimpses of him everywhere: leaving his apartment, coming back late from work, picking up a coffee from the corner café. And every time, it was the same. He didn’t greet you. Didn’t glance your way. Didn’t even acknowledge that you existed.
At first, you tried subtlety. A nod. A soft “hi” when you passed in the lobby. A tentative smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Each time, he ignored it. Not coldly, not rudely — he simply moved past you like you weren’t there, and it shredded your chest in ways you didn’t know were possible.
By the third day, the silence between you had become unbearable. You found yourself timing your comings and goings, trying to avoid him, yet longing for the chaos of his presence at the same time.
~
It was late evening when the unavoidable happened.
You were carrying a bag of groceries, tired and distracted, when the elevator doors opened, and there he was.
Jaehyun.
Eyes narrowed. Shoulders stiff. That wall of distance radiating off him in waves.
Your stomach dropped.
He stepped into the elevator without a word, pressed the button for your floor, and leaned against the wall — giving you space, but not enough to escape the tension.
You tried. You really did. “Uh… hey.”
No response.
You swallowed. “Look… about the other night…”
He shifted, finally glancing at you, the shadow of pain still in his eyes. “Not now.”
Your chest tightened. “Please. Just—just a minute.”
He shook his head, jaw tight. “I can’t.”
The doors opened at your floor. He stepped out without another word.
You froze in the elevator, heart racing, watching him disappear.
And that’s when it hit you.
You weren’t just upset that he was avoiding you.
You were terrified of what it meant.
~
The next day, you tried again.
You waited outside his door when you knew he’d be coming back from work, arms crossed, mind rehearsing every possible thing you could say to break through his wall.
And he came.
Without looking at you. Without pause.
“I thought about what you said,” you tried, stepping closer.
He didn’t stop. He didn’t even flinch.
“I know I messed up,” you whispered. “And I—I want to fix it.”
His footsteps didn’t falter. His silence was deafening.
Finally, he glanced at you — brief, cold, unreadable — and said, voice low and steady, “There’s nothing to fix right now. And maybe… there won’t be for a while.”
He walked past, and for a fraction of a second, you swore you saw the shadow of sadness in his posture.
But the distance he kept? That was deliberate. Unyielding.
And you realized, with a sick twist in your stomach, that this avoidance was more painful than any argument you’d ever had with him.
~
The week stretched on like this.
Every time you saw him, it was the same: silence, distance, careful avoidance.
And yet, every glance, every movement, every time his presence intersected with yours, carried the weight of unspoken words. Tension built like a storm on the horizon — quiet, smoldering, ready to erupt.
You knew one thing:
The fight wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
And when it finally came, it wouldn’t be just about the argument.
It would be about everything.
Everything you’d done, everything you hadn’t done, and everything you were both too stubborn to admit.
__
The first few weeks after the fight felt like walking through fire. Every attempt to reach him, every hesitant word you tried to say, was met with cold indifference. His clipped tones, the way he avoided your eyes, the deliberate silence — it was suffocating. It was clear: he didn’t want to talk. And after enough bruised pride and frustrated heartbeats, you gave up.
The weeks turned into months, and a rhythm emerged. You and Jaehyun became experts at coexistence by distance. The lobby was a gauntlet of timing; elevators became a strategic gamble. You left your apartment only after he had already gone, or returned just after he had slipped inside. In the rare moments your paths did cross, it was a quick, averted glance or a stiff nod. Every accidental brush of a shoulder, every glimpse of him across the parking lot, reminded you that the fire between you hadn’t truly gone out — it was just smoldering, waiting.
Each day carried the weight of the unspoken. Anger and irritation lingered, coiling around your stomach like a snake. Longing pressed at your chest in quiet moments, but you refused to give it a voice. Curiosity gnawed at the edges of your mind: what was he thinking? Did he feel the same pull you did, or had the fight permanently hardened him against you?
The sister’s presence hovered in the background like a ghost. You never saw her in these months, but you knew she was there, slipping into his apartment after school or on weekends. Jaehyun’s stress-cooking rituals, the careful organization of his papers and counters — she witnessed it all. She helped him, guided him, supported him — but always without you knowing. You only caught glimpses from a distance, moments where you saw him softened, relaxed in ways he would never allow around you.
And yet, the unspoken barrier between you remained unbroken. You lived side by side, carried out your routines with surgical precision, and went to bed each night knowing that the man you had once been drawn to was only a few doors down, untouchable, unreachable.
It wasn’t until one quiet evening near the end of that year that the carefully constructed walls began to crack. Jaehyun came home, shoulders slumped in a way that suggested exhaustion deeper than physical fatigue. The sister, finally, confessed the truth. The lies she had fed him a year ago — the distorted version of what you had actually said — were laid bare. She admitted the manipulation, the misunderstanding she had created.
For the first time in twelve months, something shifted. The weight of anger, confusion, and distance pressed against him in a way that made the air between you taut with potential. It didn’t resolve anything — not yet. But it opened a door. A crack, a tiny fissure through which the tension, the desire, and the unresolved feelings you both had kept at bay could begin to seep through.
And while the year of avoidance had carved deep grooves between you, both physically and emotionally, the truth finally planted the seeds of change. You didn’t know what would come next, but for the first time in a long time, the silence didn’t feel permanent.
~
The moment the words sank in, Jaehyun froze. His fingers, which had been idly tracing the edge of the counter, clenched into fists. His heart pounded, and a bitter taste of disbelief curled in his mouth. He stared at his sister, unblinking, as if the weight of a year’s worth of misunderstanding had physically pressed him into the floor.
“You… what?” His voice was low, controlled, but it carried the edge of a storm barely contained.
“I—Jaehyun, I didn’t mean—” She started, hands trembling, but he raised a hand, cutting her off.
“Didn’t mean?” he repeated, voice taut, raw. “You lied to me. All this time… you twisted her words. You made me think she said things she didn’t, things that… that…” His throat tightened. The anger bubbled up, bitter and scorching, but beneath it, something else — a sharp pang of hurt, betrayal sharper than any knife.
“I was trying to protect you,” she stammered. “I thought… I thought if you didn’t know, you’d be better—“
“Better?” he snapped, stepping back, pacing a few steps away. “You don’t get it. You’ve been feeding me lies. Lies that kept me angry, distant, and alone. Do you have any idea how that felt?”
Her eyes filled with tears, but he didn’t look at her. He turned toward the window, the faint city lights casting shadows across his face. He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight, as if holding himself together.
“I trusted you,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I trusted her. And you—” He paused, taking a breath, the sharpness in his chest making it hard to form the words. “You used that trust… to manipulate me. To make me hate her. A year wasted because of your interference.”
The silence that followed was thick, heavy, suffocating. He finally sank onto the edge of the couch, head in his hands, shoulders shaking slightly — not with tears, but with the weight of suppressed emotion. Anger, frustration, confusion, and a deep, raw vulnerability he rarely allowed anyone to see.
“I… I need time,” he said finally, voice quiet, but firm. “I need to think. I need to… process this.”
His sister’s words faltered, apology spilling from her lips, but he didn’t respond. She tried again, softer, “Jaehyun, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
He shook his head. “No. Just… leave me alone for now.”
And with that, the space between them was filled with the echo of betrayal, and a silence that wasn’t peaceful — it was sharp, cutting, a reminder that the trust he once had was fractured. He stayed there for a long time, staring at nothing, letting the flood of emotions crash over him in waves. Anger, hurt, loneliness… and, buried beneath it all, the slow, stubborn ache of longing for someone he hadn’t stopped thinking about all year.
__
The week had settled into a rhythm neither of them wanted, a careful dance of timing and distance. Every glance in the hallway was measured, every step calculated. They moved around one another like satellites, aware of the other’s presence but orbiting at safe distances. Words were scarce, replaced by cold nods or deliberately avoided eye contact, and the air between them carried a weight neither admitted aloud.
Jaehyun, however, wasn’t about to let the distance stand unchallenged forever.
It started small.
“Coffee?” he asked one morning, leaning casually against the wall in the hallway as she passed by. She didn’t look up, didn’t respond. She kept walking, her stride steady, deliberately ignoring him.
He sighed, shoulders tightening. He knew she was cold, deliberately so, but it didn’t stop the pull he felt.
Later that evening, he tried again. She was walking down the hallway, arms crossed, eyes focused straight ahead. He leaned casually against the wall, pretending to be indifferent, but the tension in his stance betrayed him.
“You always do this,” he said, voice low, teasingly sharp. “Walk past me like I don’t exist, and yet—”
She froze for a heartbeat, then continued walking.
“You’ve ignored me for a whole year,” she said finally, voice tight, clipped, every word deliberate. “You think you get to just start talking to me now? I spent twelve months pretending you didn’t exist because that’s exactly what you did to me. I think you need to remember that before you start complaining about anything.”
He stepped forward, frustration coiling in his chest, voice low but strained. “You don’t get to just do that to me, either,” he said, jaw tight. “I’m not some puzzle you can walk past and ignore. You’re driving me insane.”
She didn’t look at him, eyes still fixed ahead, but her shoulders stiffened. “I could say the same about you,” she said quietly. “You ignored me for a year. Don’t act like you’re the only one who suffered.”
The hallway seemed to shrink around them. He exhaled sharply, tension and longing and frustration tangling together in his chest. He took a step back, leaning further against the wall, voice barely above a whisper. “Damn it,” he muttered. His composure, carefully rebuilt over the past weeks, cracked again — every word she said, every motion of deliberate coldness, cutting deeper than he wanted to admit.
She finally glanced at him, just for a fleeting moment, expression unreadable. And then she continued walking, leaving him alone in the hallway, chest tight, heart pounding, caught somewhere between rage, desire, and the helpless pull he couldn’t fight.
__
The days after the long silence unfolded like a carefully choreographed dance, one neither of them had truly chosen. They moved through the apartment complex with the precision of two people avoiding collision yet drawn to the same gravity. Jaehyun lingered a moment longer at the elevator, just enough to catch her glance, and she, of course, looked anywhere but at him.
It became a ritual. Morning encounters by the mailbox, careful nods that said nothing; afternoons in the stairwell where he would lean against the wall, pretending indifference, voice low and teasing, “You really know how to ignore a man, huh?”
She kept her posture rigid, eyes forward, tone clipped. “And you really know how to make yourself unbearable.”
Sometimes, when their shoulders brushed as they passed, both would stiffen, a flash of heat creeping where irritation and longing tangled. Jaehyun would smirk, his lips quirked in mischief, and she would scowl, though her pulse betrayed her. The tension, simmering and relentless, built something neither wanted to name aloud yet couldn’t deny in the quiet of their own thoughts.
It was in those silent, charged moments, in the teasing remarks and accidental touches, that the world outside seemed to blur. Every glance, every sigh, every word weighed heavily, dragging them toward an inevitable collision they both feared.
~
The rain had started quietly, hesitant at first, a soft drum on the rooftops, and then it came down harder, relentless, drumming against the pavement, soaking the streets, turning the world into a blur of silver and dark reflections. She moved quickly, coat clinging to her, hair plastered to her cheeks, boots splashing through shallow puddles. Every step seemed heavy, soaked through, yet her heart pounded faster than her feet could carry her.
And then she saw him—Jaehyun—running toward her, drenched from head to toe, dark hair plastered to his forehead, clothes heavy with water. The world around them faded—the roaring storm became their private stage, lightning illuminating his sharp, urgent features, thunder shaking the ground beneath them.
“I can’t—” she started, voice barely audible over the rain, but he cut her off, voice raw and urgent, echoing through the storm.
“I’ve had enough of pretending! Enough of holding back!”
She froze, heart stuttering, as he skidded to a stop just a few feet away. Water ran down his face, down his neck, soaking the fabric of his coat, yet his eyes burned brighter than the storm.
“I love you,” he shouted, voice cracking with emotion, trembling with all the weight of the last year. “I’ve loved you through all of this—the teasing, the hatred, the distance. And I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry for how I treated you during that year. I should’ve trusted you, believed you… but my sister lied to me, and I let it come between us. I let it hurt you. I… I never wanted to hurt you.”
Her chest tightened. She shook her head, unwilling to let herself believe it, unwilling to give him even the slightest victory. “You’re… imagining things. I… I can’t—I can’t do this,” she whispered, voice trembling against the torrent.
He stepped closer, rain splashing against her, hands hovering just near her, aching to close the gap she insisted on keeping. “Stop lying to yourself! Stop lying to me! I mean it—I love you, and I’m done with the lies and the distance. I can’t wait any longer!”
Her laughter was bitter, lost in the storm. “Pretend? Do you even understand how much I’ve fought? Every second, every heartbeat… I’ve been trying not to fall for you. And now? You think I can just run to you and—say it? I can’t. Not like this!”
Every word of resistance only made his eyes glimmer more with fierce intensity. “And I’ve waited long enough! I don’t care if you fight me, push me away, act like you hate me. I love you. Every insult, every glare, every shove—you made me love you more. Do you understand me? More than I can put into words!”
Her defenses crumbled. Instinctively, her hands rose, tangling in the wet strands of his hair, pulling him closer despite herself. “I… I can’t pretend anymore,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I—”
And then his lips were on hers, urgent, claiming, fire and rain, the tension of a year of hate, teasing, and unspoken desire exploding into a single kiss. She responded immediately, body pressing against his, water plastering their clothes to one another, every inch of her shivering, every heartbeat colliding with his. Every withheld touch, every suppressed confession, every spark of desire ignited in that kiss, consuming all hesitation.
They broke apart just long enough to gasp, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling in the rain. His hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing her wet cheeks. “You… you love me,” he said, almost incredulously.
She nodded, tears mixing with the rain, shivering, a small, exhausted laugh escaping her lips. “Yes… I love you.”
The storm raged around them, lightning splitting the sky, thunder rolling through the city, yet it no longer mattered. The rain soaked them to the bone, but inside, the world had narrowed to the two of them—finally, irrevocably, undeniably together. She pressed herself into him again, lips meeting in another searing kiss, the storm outside merely the echo of the storm of love, relief, and desire that had finally broken free between them.
And this is why I love you, you Obnoxious Little Shit. ;)
warnings: long-term relationship, sex on the plane, fingering, (semi)public sex/make out, mutual masturbation, cock-blocking, profanities
words: 3,7k
"You good?" Jaehyun questioned as you peeked above the seat divider. You rubbed your eyes before answering hoping it’s been hours since you fell asleep.
You were finally able to focus your vision on the screen before Jaehyun and realised the sad truth, he still had the same movie on. It hasn’t been as long as you hoped for.
You sighed.
"No, my head's splitting." Jaehyun pouted, sorry for how you’ve been feeling since the very take off.
"I'm sorry. We still have more than five hours to go,” you pouted in return, closing your eyes to let a dramatic sigh out.
"Let me crawl over to you." You rested your chin over your palm that was laying on the divider. You forced an even cuter face expression onto your boyfriend so he’d move to the side, but he looked at you like he couldn’t hear you, taking his headphones completely off his head.
“Huh?" He voiced out the confusion written on his face.
"Move." You shooshed Jaehyun with your hand to the other side of his seat, leg already over the divider.
“Baby, we're going to be told off." You rolled your eyes at his distress, proceeding with your action.
“Everyone’s asleep, it’s night.” You gestured to the ceiling of the plane, to point out the fact the lights were off. You could hear your neighbours snoring quietly in distance and flight attendants have not bothered you ever since dinner.
There was no way anyone would notice you taking a nap on your boyfriend’s chest. He was definitely being dramatic.
“Hi.” You flirted, palm on his chest as you tried to find a comfortable enough position to lie down. “Long time no see.” Jaehyun melted, letting his doubts go as soon as your body weight pressed him into the seat.
He pecked your lips and shuffled a bit, letting your legs tangle up with each other.
“I immediately feel times better,” you raised your head back up and ran your fingers up Jaehyun’s neck to get his head in your hands. Jaehyun blinked at you with a little smirk adorning his mouth. You let your teeth sink into your lower lip looking at his pretty face. You pecked Jaehyun’s cheek and pressed your face into his jaw. “No, I lied. It still feels like I’m going to pass out.” Jaehyun’s arm crawled around your waist and caressed it, mouth pressing into your temple.
“Take a nap, I’ll make sure I’m not moving under you,” Jaehyun pushed you a little off him and stretched his body in his seat, wiggling his butt a little over the seat and pulled you back in on top of him once he was visibly done with getting comfortable. “Okay, I’m ready to be your pillow.” You smiled and pecked his cheek once again, snuggling into him more and closing your eyes to try leaving this torturous head ache behind in the dreamland.
Jaehyun was a perfect pillow with a built-in heating function and sleeping on top of him indeed was a blessing, even if you had a business class seat of your own right next to him. It was practically incomparable no matter how you looked at it. But why were you even thinking about it? In your sleep?
That… felt weird. You felt Jaehyun’s throat move against your head and it was the very last clue for you to realise you weren’t sleeping anymore. You woke up.
Maybe because it was time for you to, maybe because he was chewing on something and given you were with your ear on his chest Jaehyun managed to wake you up.
You raised your head up immediately, not taking a moment to figure out how long it’s been like the previous time. "What are you munching on?"
"Ugh, my flat croissant." You acted like you couldn't notice the insinuation on my.
It was intentional, you've had yours before you even boarded the plane; and Jaehyun was especially sulky when it came to you stealing his food. And you had a history with that, you had to admit it.
"Can I try it?" he immediately scowled at your audacity and you’d smirked in return. Well, the game was on, he’ll end up giving it to you. Whether he wants it or not.
“Nuh-huh." He’d cocked his eyebrow and took another tiny bite.
"Come on." You nudged his side.
"You tried it when you ate the same one you had for yourself.” He let a loud sigh out and you knew exactly what he was going to bring up. “Remember how we were at the grocery store and I said baby, should we buy these flat croissants to take with us on the flight? You said yes sure, and when I asked if I should get two or more, remember what you told me?” You blinked at him quietly, holding in a chuckle. “I’m fine with one, you can take more if you want to.” And that’s how you ended up with just two of these in your shopping cart.
"You should share!" you went for the low blow. "Sharing is cari-."
"Ain't I'm already sharing my seat, my earphones, my clothes, my life, practically everything with you?" Jaehyun's brow raised in disbelief.
"And you're complaining?" you smiled. You had the answer to that in his eyes.
"No, I love it." Jaehyun cheesed. "I love you." he pressed his mouth flat against your cheek. “But I won’t share the pastry."
“Please,” you sang out the e. “You have to make the list complete by adding in the food.”
“That is the only little thing I want to have to myself.” He whispered more to himself than to you, biting on his cheek before he’d looked at the flat croissant.
Jaehyun took a demonstrative bite before your face and chewed on it with a happy smirk on his face. You furrowed your brow, pouted, then stuck with opening your mouth like he was gonna give in and let you have a bite.
He wasn't gonna fold, you were sure. He was proving that to you by swallowing what he chewed and taking another bite. You were ready for another show of performative chewing.
When he leaned in and shoved the freshly bitten piece into your open mouth with his tongue you were nothing short but flabbergasted. You didn't expect him to play mama bird. You didn’t expect him to play along at all.
"Ew!" You exclaimed feigning disgust, acting like his tongue in your mouth was anything new to you.
You felt the knot tighten at the pit of your stomach. Jaehyun licked into your mouth and moved back with a smirk. You swallowed the croissant. "I want more." you whispered, leaning back into him.
"Of what exactly?"
“Everything."
Jaehyun let the smile pass his lips as his hand reached out to your chin, pulling your face closer to his.
You let his lips cover yours, deliberately taking care of your upper lip as he kissed you like you were the most fragile piece of art.
You pressed your palms against his chest, properly straddling his thighs and pushing your mouth firmer against his. Jaehyun moved his attention to your nape, pushing you back as your body tried to press into his more.
“Baby, we’re on a plane.” He hiss-whispered against your lips and tried to make you slide back down from him.
“I’m not doing anything inappropriate.” You shook your head with a little pout and got your fingers onto his scalp, pulling a little on his hair.
“This is pretty inappropriate for a plane,” Jaehyun looked down at your thighs covering his crotch and pushed you down to the side once more.
“Don’t be a bore.” You let your mouth into the corner of his; if he wants to be a good boy - okay. You’ll play by his rules. “Last week you promised me sex on the plane.”
“I was drunk and talking absolute bullshit,” Jaehyun chuckled and all of a sudden pulled you a little closer to him.
“You said you booked business just because the lavatory is bigger.” You teased him further. He said all of that to his friend’s face because he challenged Jaehyun’s pride of being too much of a grandpa for his age. You wanted to strongly disagree when that conversation even started, but shut your mouth as soon as Jaehyun’s mouth started bragging things you’ve never heard before. Never even imagined he’d suggest you do.
You knew he was bluffing, you had a very good reason to believe this trip and the business seats were purchased for a special occasion, and you were sure the special occasion is you with a rock on your finger on your plane ride back home. Not to fuck.
“Okay, okay,” he let a sigh out and moved his neck around like he was going to stand up right this moment to go there.
“I wanted to watch the movie,” you gave him a leeway, and Jaehyun happily took the bait, resting his body under you.
“Okay, pick anything you want,” he gestured for the screen and you ran your eyes through options, choosing Hotel Grand Budapest.
You’d taken the earbud from his hands and rested your head once more over Jaehyun’s chest, sliding a bit more off him to not weigh him down too much and focused on the movie.
Your fingers inevitably went for Jaehyun’s side, caressing clothed skin there, and when the absentminded touch didn’t raise any suspicion on his side, your restless hand went for his stomach, chest and arm, ending up with your mouth peppering kisses over his jaw. This must be enough of a clue the touch wasn’t absentminded in the first place.
“Baby, there’s nothing sexy about the movie?” Jaehyun snorted, catching your head.
“You’re sexy though.” You played with your brows, extending your neck to give Jaehyun a kiss; he’d let you kiss him, kissing your lips too, and you ended up in this attempt to keep the make out quiet, even though Jaehyun’s fingers gripping onto your thigh were making it impossible for you to do it.
He seemingly changed his opinion on plane make out’s and was indulging quite fiercely in one with you right now, lips sucking onto your upper lip, making your mouth open and give his tongue an opportunity to wrestle beautifully with yours. Your body pressed Jaehyun more into the seat and your mouth wasn’t able to hold in a gasp when your thigh brushed past his hardening crotch.
You were hyper aware of the people surrounding you, it’s not like you were reckless. You heard a couple of them snore, you saw screens light up their seats, you were also hyper aware of the fact that the annoying sound of someone making out right next to you must be heard three rows before and after you, but it was hard to keep yourself at bay when you managed to get Jaehyun into this, and hot damn was he into this.
His fingers trailed over your waist and you’d expected him to make you sit on top of him, but Jaehyun’s palm went elsewhere, pulling the blanket from the side of his seat to cover your bodies. Why would he do it? You weren’t cold, not when his lips trailed down from your mouth to your neck-.
Oh.
That’s why he needed a blanket.
Jaehyun’s palm sneaked under it and the very next moment you felt his palm press between your legs through your sweatpants. You let a surprised gasp out, you weren’t expecting to take things this much further. Jaehyun’s fingers made your right leg hook more around his waist and he’d pressed his fingers into your core with a lot more pressure than usual, keeping in mind the buffer made by your sweatpants.
You leaned back a little and made Jaehyun give up kissing your neck; you initiated a stare off, which challenged Jaehyun into giving your aroused core deliberate strokes that he knew for sure were making the shivers run down your arms.
Your palm slipped down his abs and teased the lower abdomen, not anything more or less, just soft strokes of your fingers where his body was covered by the underwear. His stomach was burning hot to the touch, hotter than it usually was. Maybe, because you were winded up by the publicity of this act; maybe because you were up in the sky and everything felt times stronger. Like Jaehyun’s fingers stroking you throw two layers of fabric was giving you a hard time keeping your composure, feeling the knot at the pit of your stomach get heavy already. When he didn’t even do much.
“If we continue and anyone sees - we’re forever blacklisted from the airline.” Jaehyun broke the silent staring with a little dimple-inducing smirk of his.
“Do you feel like stopping?” You let your fingers slip lower, brush against his hardening dick hidden by a few layers of clothes of his own.
“Not really,” he slanted his head a little, like he wasn’t believing he was admitting it, and you smirked at him, letting your fingers boldly pass the sweatpants and get your fingers onto his underwear. You flexed your fingers a couple of times over Jaehyun’s crotch and he went for a slow, deliberate sigh from the depths of his lungs.
“You good?” You chuckled.
Jaehyun caught onto the teasing and went for the same sort of torture on you, passing the sweatpants layer, and damn, going even further with his fingers slipping past your panties. He’d let his finger rub against your fully soaking clit and in no time your entire brain fogged and wasn’t able to proceed with any more teasing on his body. You leaned into Jaehyun and let him kiss you, holding onto his stomach with your fingers for support. You needed this to not let yourself come within the first two minutes, to not let yourself make a sound that’ll draw all of the attention you didn’t need.
“Baby, you have to keep it all in.” Jaehyun whispered against your mouth exactly what you’ve been thinking and you nodded, gripping onto his shoulder instead.
Jaehyun’s fingers went further, spreading your folds as he rubbed them against your clit, going even more ahead with his middle finger spreading you open. You felt his finger pump in and out of you and rearranged the way you’ve been holding onto him up until this moment.
You wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed your face into his collarbone, leaving your body at Jaehyun’s mercy. Letting him do things the way he wanted.
You panted into his neck, trying to hold back from orgasming and at the same time wishing for nothing else.
Your arms kept shivering, and you were sure now it had to do something with all those kilometres you were up in the sky. “Should I stop?” He teased into your ear and you found it in you to pinch his shoulder as a response, he cannot be serious right now. “I do feel sometimes like I’m too led on by you, maybe I should just resist this one time-,” your arm that’s been holding onto Jaehyun’s neck for dear life shifted when he moved his hand away from your slickness and you attempted choking the man that found the environment appropriate enough for teasing. This little shit, he’s always like this, he lives to be loved and needed by you and even more so lives to tease your undying love for him. Tease so he’d feel even more loved and needed in response.
“Ouch, ouch-, okay,” Jaehyun’s free palm wrapped around your elbow to ease the chokehold. “I don't want to die on a plane; I'm sorry.” He chuckled into your ear and roughly returned his fingers where they previously were, making a loud gasp spill from your lips.
“Jae, my head’s spinning,” you moved your head so your mouth would be next to his ear and the deafening gasps you let out were fanning exactly over his ear.
“Just a little more-,” he’d cooed in response and your arm began to tighten around Jaehyun’s neck once more, making him tug on your elbow. “If you continue with choking my head’s going to spin too,” he breathed out of his nose. The way your thigh involuntarily rubbed against his crotch as his fingers ran over your clit must be part of this head-spinning torture of his also.
Jaehyun’s hand twisted in your clothes, angling it so his thumb would circle around your clit and your brain gave up. Your head spun, body shuttered, toes curling. Your body swallowed Jaehyun’s fingers more, tightening around them in contractions and in a couple of seconds you went meek in his arms.
“Did your orgasm was so good it made the plane shake?” Jaehyun sneered, lifting your head up off his shoulder to peck your lips.
“What?” You asked, fully confused. Jaehyun fixed your sweatpants over your waist and found a wet tissue to wipe his glistening hand.
Jaehyun didn’t need to open his mouth, because the plane shook once more and you now felt what he meant - you hit the turbulence zone. You let a chuckle out piecing together his little remark and pecked his mouth. Your palm traveled south and you brushed it lightly against his crotch. He was still hard, nothing changed for him, duh.
“You know you lowkey own me one?” Jaehyun found your palm under the blanket, covering it with his. He put more pressure on his dick and closed his eyes in pleasure.
“I know, I’m even considering giving it to you, since you gave me a plane-shaking level of orgasm.” You smirked in response, getting your mouth covered with Jaehyun’s lips as a reward.
It felt like the plane plunged into a flow of incoming turbulence and once more shook in a long hit that made you grip onto Jaehyun’s shoulder for a moment.
You let your fingers stroke Jaehyun, but with the next little jolt the seatbelt sign went on. You both glanced up, but looking down into Jaehyun’s eyes it was pretty clear this time - he couldn’t care less for any signs, he needed your fingers, at least, pumping him into oblivion starting now. And you weren’t about to protest, you would gladly give him what he wants.
Your hand once more slid to his underwear and your hand went for slow strokes, making Jaehyun’s eyes close and his chest raise faster than before. Even though his eyes were closed and he looked like he was solemnly focused on you stroking him, in about three strokes his hand cover yours and he’d stopped you. You looked at him confused as soon as he opened his pretty eyes. His eyes drifted ahead and your head peeked from his seat, to see the flight attendant going down the row and checking if the seatbelts are on for the passengers.
Jaehyun forced your hand off him and onto his chest. His hands going gingerly onto your waist. “We’re watching a movie, he hissed into your ear and you nodded, focusing your gaze on the screen.
You know what he did there. He wanted for both your hands to be visible for the flight attendant. To let her know that you weren’t being nasty, you were just watching a movie together. Sure, that’s what you’ve been doing.
You blinked at the movie that was still on, feeling Jaehyun’s erection press into your knee. You had to cover it in case her eyes went south.
You tried hard not to look at the lady approaching you, but it was hard to ignore the surprise plastered on her face upon realisation that there’s two people in this seat instead of one. Jaehyun removed the bud from his ear, that he somehow managed to find in this little act, and looked at the flight attendant.
She looked at you instead, “Miss, the seatbelt sign is on, please return to your seat,” the lady politely gestured to the ceiling and glanced down onto your seat.
“Yes, sure,” you casually agreed and with Jaehyun’s help crawled back into your seat. It was too fucking cold and empty. Being next to Jaehyun felt trillion times better. His eyes followed you confused, for some reason. You wondered if he was shocked at your obedience. You were just trying to not attract any attention, tried to not pay her attention to the fact your ear didn’t even have the earphone, that you were just staring at the screen with no audio.
The lady moved on as soon as you did the seatbelt and you leaned over the divider once more to look at Jaehyun, look down onto his waist and see something you weren’t able to finish off. “How are you feeling?” You reached a hand over to pat his forearm.
“Like we’re never flying anything but economy ever again.” You chuckled into your shoulder.
“But you love me, and it’s not really my fault-,” you flattered your eye lashes at him.
'You'll regret this later.” Jaehyun grumbled, trying to steady his breathing and think of something that would calm him down.
"I'll do my best to make up for it.” You blinked at him and caught his palm with yours, lifting it to give it a tiny peck.
He sighed, but held onto your hand regardless, letting you know he wasn’t actually mad.
You held onto his fingers for as long as your brain allowed you to, the seatbelt sign was on for ages and you felt yourself drift away, until Jaehyun’s fingers let go of yours as soon as the seatbelt sign went off and he took off in the direction of the bathroom quicker than you could’ve imagined, taking his needed time in there.
𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒆. “Passar por cima do seu próprio 𝗼𝗿𝗴𝘂𝗹𝗵𝗼
já havia sido tarefa difícil; mas mais difícil ainda foi
fazer 𝗝𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻 engolir o dele — ou quase isso, afinal
era você quem engolia o 𝗼𝗿𝗴𝘂𝗹𝗵𝗼 de 𝗝𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻 quase
toda noite desde que esse lance estranho começou.”
─── 𝗲𝘅-𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗼! 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻 × 𝗹𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗮.
𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗚✷𝗥𝗜𝗔: smut. 𝗣𝗔𝗟𝗔𝗩𝗥𝗔𝗦: 4327.
𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗦✷𝗦: o jaehyun é meio red flag aqui sei lá,
abs riding, exibicionismo (prática), semi-public sex,
uma unidade de tapa na cara & exes-to-still exes.
─── 𝗡✷𝗧𝗔𝗦: vou deixar isso aqui, beijocas!
A pele escorria, brilhando sob a baixa iluminação do local num viço sugestivo ao que você se esforçava para secá-la o mais rápido possível, pois ainda que a piscina fosse aquecida, era uma noite fria. Deu conta de se livrar da maior parte do líquido com certo pesar, teria nadado mais um pouquinho se não houvesse decidido que ignorou Jaehyun por tempo suficiente. E ele também já não poupava o próprio olhar descarado — esquecendo-se que, supostamente, deveria estar prestando atenção no vídeo que já se repetia pela quarta vez no celular.
O acordo feito precedente à viagem era de que deixariam as questões de vocês dois fora das malas, não trariam o affair junto nas férias. E não, não existia um jeito natural de fazer isso. O que sobrava para vocês era se ignorar o tempo inteiro, porém era nítido que o autocontrole ruía com o decorrer dos dias. Era engraçado, para dizer o mínimo. Foram tão teimosos na tentativa de não deixar que isso sequer tivesse início e agora tinham que lutar para evitar que acontecesse o tempo inteiro. Passar por cima do seu próprio orgulho já havia sido tarefa difícil; mas mais difícil ainda foi fazer Jaehyun engolir o dele — ou quase isso, afinal era você quem engolia o orgulho de Jaehyun quase toda noite desde que esse lance estranho começou.
Por vezes, considerava um tanto injusto. Se não dava certo com Jaehyun, também não era certo que transar com ele fosse tão gostoso. Todos os dias pensava em como tudo poderia ser diferente se ele fosse ruim de oral ou se tivesse um pau minúsculo, qualquer coisa que fosse capaz de dar jeito nesse seu amor de pica irritante. Se bem que talvez tenha sido erro seu antes de se envolver com ele, não leu nas entrelinhas do contrato de namoro que, em caso de término, pau de ex é algo que causa vício.
“Eu não preciso de babá, sabia?”, o comentário ácido estava guardado na sua cabeça faz um tempinho, desde que viu o homem se sentar ali.
“Alguém tem que te impedir de quase se afogar de novo.”, ele mostrou uma das covinhas num sorriso provocativo, tinha certo talento para rebater ironia com rapidez.
“Eu ‘tava em mar aberto daquela vez, me erra.”, lançou um olhar debochado, apertando o cabelo entre os dedos para se livrar do excesso de água nos fios. Passou a toalha pelo corpo uma última vez, jogando-a na espreguiçadeira ao lado da que ele estava deitado assim que achou ser suficiente. Cuidadosa, encarou a porta da varanda só para garantir antes de se sentar em cima das pernas de Jaehyun, confirmando uma última vez que não havia ninguém espiando. Um acordo silencioso havia sido feito com o grupo de amigos sem que uma única palavra precisasse ser dita: eles fingiam não saber que vocês dois ainda estavam transando e vocês dois fingiam não saber que eles sabiam.
A intimidade que nunca precisava ser forçada também tinha percentual de culpa na sua dificuldade em desistir de Jaehyun. Era estressante somente pensar em todo trabalho que daria conhecer alguém do zero novamente. Ter conversas rasas, ter que apresentar aos poucos seus gostos e desgostos, ter que ensinar a outro par de mãos como você gostava de ser tocada… tudo soava inconveniente demais. E a conveniência estava logo ali, disponível embaixo do seu corpo — nunca se recusava a estar.
“Sai do meu colo.”
Ou quase nunca.
“Me tira você.”, riu travessa, balançando a cabeça para fazer com que as gotículas de água restantes no seu cabelo acertassem a pele dele. Ele apertou o rosto numa expressão desconfortável, mas os dedos não se moveram um centímetro sequer. “Foi o que eu pensei.”, zombou da falta de atitude.
“Tá me molhando inteiro.”, ele passou uma das mãos pelos olhos, jogando o telefone na espreguiçadeira ao lado. O comentário gerou um pensamento sujo na sua cabeça, mas resolveu guardar para si mesma:
“Eu vou ficar calada, Jaehyun.”
Ele se levantou brevemente, inclinando o pescoço para conseguir puxar a toalha na qual apoiava a cabeça. Lançou-a por trás do seu corpo, ajustando-o para cobrir suas costas — te protegendo do frio. O gesto trouxe conforto, especialmente porque o calor corporal dele havia esquentado o tecido. Você se deitou no torso nu ansiando por ainda mais calor, as mãos envolvendo o pescoço do homem em busca do toque morno. Não surpreendeu quando o abraço apertado virou selinho e o selinho se perdeu num beijo carente.
“Vai parar de fingir que eu sou um desconhecido?”, ele murmurou contra os seus lábios.
“Se você souber se comportar…”, sussurrou de volta. Era impaciente demais, mal terminou de falar e já queria a boca dele na sua outra vez. E como se houvesse urgência em contrariar, as mãos grandes envolveram seus peitos num aperto ciumento — sempre ficava meio sentido quando era privado do seu corpo por muito tempo. O beijo babujado escapou dos seus lábios, Jaehyun mordiscava cada pedacinho de pele que surgia pela frente, só sossegando quando encontrou seu pescoço. Você nem por um segundo pensou em recusar ou estranhar a rapidez, esses poucos dias na “seca” foram suficientes para te fazer sentir falta de um carinho mais safado. O corpo ficando molinho ao sentir o hálito quente sendo soprado em cima de cada mordidinha dolorida.
Ele arrastou o tecido do biquíni para o lado, o bastante para fazer o biquinho do seu seio saltar para fora. A boca quente envolveu a pele antes mesmo que houvesse tempo para você se arrepiar, chupava devagarinho, aninhando o rosto contra o seu torso. Suas mãos envolveram o cabelo e o maxilar do homem, fazendo um cafuné suave para estimular que ele não parasse. Assistiu-o fechar os olhos, expondo a ponta da língua para brincar com o mamilo antes de voltar a abocanhá-lo.
Davam tudo de si para manter o que faziam debaixo dos panos, porém todos os pensamentos exibicionistas que consumiam sua cabeça quando estava com ele te faziam duvidar se a vontade de esconder era genuína. Era tentador pensar em expor, em mostrar para os amigos de Jaehyun que você ainda era a mulher que colocava ele ‘pra mamar todo dengoso — a imagem de masculinidade existente na cabeça deles provavelmente ficaria bem abalada. Imaginar o rumo dessa brincadeira era fácil demais, o desejo que castigava vocês dois era mais que óbvio, ainda que não houvesse tempo suficiente para dar conta dele.
Você deixou que um puxão de cabelo afastasse Jaehyun de você, fingindo-se de desentendida quando aproximou a boca do peitoral dele. Ironicamente, o homem sempre resmungava quando você brincava ali, só que você nunca dava muita importância — sabia que a resistência era só pirraça. Pretensiosa, acolheu um dos mamilos dele entre o biquinho que fazia. Mamou devagarinho, levantando o olhar para assistir às expressões dele. Jaehyun soltou um muxoxo que você já esperava, tanto que soube remediar na hora apertando o pau dele contra sua palma por cima dos tecidos.
Ele abriu as pernas, empurrando o quadril contra sua mão. A excitação não te admirou, sempre soube fazer Jaehyun ficar duro com facilidade. Afastou o toque numa provocação barata, correndo as pontas dos dedos em volta da ereção sem tocá-la outra vez. Brincou com a barra da peça, ameaçando puxar. Sentia tesão em assistir o olhar todo cheio de expectativa dele, o aperto na sua cintura se tornava dolorido aos pouquinhos — era engraçado notar a pressão crescendo. Selou o peitoral dele mais uma vez, descendo de forma vagarosa, lambendo em certos pontos.
Precisou encostar os pés no chão à medida em que descia, os olhos cravados em Jaehyun como uma felina faminta. Raspou os dentes no quadril dele, simulando uma mordidinha. Seu joguinho te levou até o limite da pele exposta, deixando um beijo molhado bem no comecinho da virilha. Os dedinhos se enroscaram nos passadores da bermuda que ele usava, puxou-a para baixo como se houvesse a intenção de o despir, mas tudo que fez foi largar a peça na parte mais baixa do quadril. Agora era possível ver ainda mais da trilha rala de pelinhos, que ficava um pouquinho mais cheia e espalhada ao chegar à barra da cueca.
O olhar correu para o rosto de Jaehyun por alguns segundos, ele te olhava intrigado, incerto dos seus próximos passos, afinal nem você sabe o que estava fazendo quando selou aquela área com apreço. Não sabia dizer o que havia ali que te deixava tão excitada, era um traço que te fazia entortar a boca em outros homens. Mas não em Jaehyun. Em Jaehyun era um tesão. Salivava só de ver os pelos aparadinhos, pois sabia bem ao quê eles levavam.
Colocou a linguinha para fora com timidez, correndo o músculo esponjoso pela parte inferior do abdômen dele. A sensação dos pelinhos arranhando te fez arrepiar um pouco, no entanto não foi ruim, só diferente. Resolveu ser mais atrevida, lambendo desde a pelve exposta até os gominhos que você tanto amava.
Sentiu a pele eriçar quando os dedos grossos agarraram os fios da sua nuca, o puxão numa força meio desmedida te guiou até o rosto dele outra vez. Você mordeu um sorriso no lábio inferior, era uma delícia ser subjugada assim — sem um pingo de força ou vontade de lutar contra. Jaehyun te fez engatinhar em cima do corpo dele, deixado sua orelha na altura perfeita para que pudesse sussurrar:
“Mama meu pau, vai. Para de fazer graça.”, o tom rouco beirava a súplica, mas o aperto firme no seu cabelo te dizia que aquilo estava quase deixando de ser um pedido.
“Você ‘tá maluco.”, fez-se de desentendida, amante fiel da dinâmica provocar e não fazer absolutamente nada depois.
“Tá todo mundo ocupado demais lá dentro.”, ele lambeu os lábios, o olhar desviando para sua boca por meio segundo. “Ninguém vai ver, amor.”, o apelo para o apelidinho carinhoso te fez querer rir — fazia parte da lista de coisas que vocês não podiam mais falar (“eu te amo” sendo a principal delas), Jaehyun deveria mesmo estar desesperado.
“Assim que eu encostar a boca aqui, alguém vai resolver jogar o Jungwoo na piscina por ter perdido no Mario Kart.”, aproveitou a posição para se encaixar no colo dele novamente, pertinho de onde ele precisava tanto de você.
“É tempo suficiente pra eu gozar.”
“Não vai dar certo.”, negou com a cabeça, apoiando as mãos nos ombros do homem como a mulher comportada que você era. “É um milagre que eles ainda não vieram atrapalhar.”
“A gente ainda não fez nada desde que veio pra cá.”, a chateação era nítida, como se ele não houvesse concordado abertamente que as coisas fossem assim durante a estadia inteira.
“A culpa não é minha, conversa com teus amigos.”, deu de ombros, era um tantinho melhor em fingir não se importar do que ele.
“Você é a amiga deles também. Conversa você.”, devolveu a responsabilidade.
“E o que você quer que eu fale?”, arqueou a sobrancelha em descrença, sorrindo de cantinho. “Ô gente, o Jaehyun quer me comer, tem como vocês nos deixarem a sós por meia horinha?”, tirou os olhos dele, encarando a varanda enquanto proferia tudo numa encenação questionável.
“Quase.”, te lançou um olhar claramente sem humor. “Fala que é você que tá querendo dar pra mim.”, encarou seu corpo de cima a baixo, um canalha completo. Seu silêncio aumentou o sorriso dele, se negasse ou concordasse, o resultado seria igual. “Que foi? Você não quer?”
“Tem câmera aqui também, sabia?”, resolveu ignorar a pergunta, olhando de canto para a parede como se lembrasse de algo.
“E quem garante que eles vão checar essa parte da filmagem?”, rebateu seu questionamento com mais um dele próprio. “Aposto que a gente não vai ser o primeiro casal a transar aqui.”, a intenção de amenizar a situação estava ali, entretanto teve efeito reverso. O termo escolhido causou estranhamento:
“Nós somos um casal?”
“Um homem e uma mulher é um casal.”, desconversou da forma mais descarada que conseguiu, dando de ombros como se o que tivesse dito fosse senso comum.
“A definição não funciona assim e você sabe o que eu quis dizer.”
“Se a dona da casa achar a gente fodendo na câmera de segurança ela com certeza vai achar que é um casal.”, fez pouco caso, ainda que fosse nítido que tentava fugir do deslize que cometeu. “Inimigo a gente não é.”
“Então você concorda que ela vai ver.”, enterrava Jaehyun um pouco mais a cada frase, lutando contra todos os demônios do mundo para reprimir o riso. Se estivesse sendo sincera, pouco se importava em ser vista — já havia fodido com ele em lugares muito menos apropriados —, mas gostava de fazer teatrinho.
“Coloca a toalha por cima.”, ele bufou baixinho, não é como se estivesse totalmente alheio às suas intenções. “Assim.”, ajustou o tecido, cobrindo parte do modo como você ainda seguia encaixada nele.
“E isso vai deixar menos óbvio?”
“Porra, hoje você tá chata…”, murmurou sem pensar, apertando os olhos numa expressão frustrada. O arrependimento bateu no segundo em que você ameaçou se levantar, as mãos de Jaehyun se fechando na sua cintura em tempo recorde.
“Me solta.”
“Foi sem querer.”, enlaçou suas costas com os antebraços num aperto firme, forçando o seu torso a se abaixar. “_____.”, quase ronronou seu nome naquele tom mansinho — o que só usava para te chantagear. “Sem drama, por favor.”
“Não é drama. Eu tô chata não, tô? Então deixa eu ir embora.”, reclamou, porém deixou de se esforçar para se afastar.
“Você sabe que não foi sério.”, selou seu cabelo, já que você se recusava a deixá-lo beijar seu rosto. “Amor, me desculpa…”, resmungou todo arrependido, fez sua pele arrepiar. “Cuida do seu homem.”, os lábios ainda colados no seu cabelo sussurraram em tom de súplica — você ainda se pegava surpreendida do quão longe Jaehyun conseguia ir só para transar. “Tô sentindo saudades.”
Gostasse ou não de admitir, o fato é que era fraca. Já havia declarado derrota para si mesma no segundo em que se sentou no colo de Jaehyun, estava ali para ceder.
“Mais um vacilo e você vai dormir de pau duro hoje.”, advertiu, estapeando a bochecha dele de leve antes de deixar um selinho na boca macia. Acolheu o lábio inferior do homem dentro da boca, deixando a saliva correr livre quando o beijo se tornou mais sujo — curtia muito escutar os estalinhos molhados. As mãos se tornaram inquietas outra vez e, quando foi capaz de notar, já brincava com a barra da bermuda, correndo as pontas dos dedos pelos pelinhos como se fosse hábito.
“Deixei crescer ‘pra você, sabia?”, ele confessou num sorriso, era conhecedor da sua obsessão estranha por aquilo.
“Ainda não entendi o porquê de ter raspado.”, você correu a língua pelo cantinho da boca dele ao fim da frase. Afastou um pouco o rosto para lançar uma pergunta desconfiada: “Queria comer quem?”
“Você, amor. Só você.”, sorriu canalha, mas você deixou passar — por mais estúpido que soasse, queria acreditar que era genuíno. O olhar desconfiado não sumiu ali, entretanto. Você lançou uma expressão arteira para ele e pôde ler nos olhos do homem o momento em que ele percebeu que dali coisa boa não sairia. “Só você…”, repetiu, a atenção se desprendendo do seu rosto para observar suas ações com certa descrença. Você já afastava a própria calcinha de ladinho, abrindo as dobrinhas da bucetinha para montar no abdômen dele. “Sério isso?”, torcia para que fosse só provocação, mas te conhecia o bastante para saber que você tinha total capacidade de deixar que a brincadeira ficasse só nisso.
“Sério isso.”, você replicou num tom irônico. “É gostoso…”, fechou os olhos, tombando a cabeça para o lado. Começou devagarinho, aproveitando–se da maneira como os os pelinhos curtos espalhados ali faziam uma fricção leve, mas o jeitinho como já se melava inteira estava acabando com a sua sensibilidade. Ajustava o quadril para encontrar a posição certinha quando sentiu as mãos de Jaehyun na sua bunda outra vez.
“Detesto essa porra de calcinha.”, o comentário escorria ciúmes, você conhecia de longe. Enrolou o elástico entre os dedos como se desdenhasse do tecido.
“É? O Woo reparou em você olhando ‘pra minha bunda o tempo todo.”, alfinetou com um sorriso de canto, se esfregando com mais firmeza ao perceber que a reação dele não foi muito boa.
“Se reparou é porque também ‘tava olhando. Te falei ‘pra colocar um short.”
“Você perdeu o direito de fingir que manda em mim faz um tempinho já…”, a fala perdeu força no final, a atenção desviando para o modo como se sentia. As pernas fraquejando, o corpo se arrepiando inteiro num tesãozinho gostoso...
Jaehyun sabia bem como brincar nesse momento, mesmo quando só estava sendo usado. Os dedos ora pressionando sua cintura, ora afastando o tecido da calcinha de ladinho quando ela voltava a cobrir seu grelinho — para que você conseguisse continuar rebolando sem empecilhos. Você estava fascinada em assistir o abdômen cada vez mais meladinho brilhando sob a baixa iluminação. Jaehyun também não conseguia desviar o olhar, respirando fundo e logo apertando os músculos embaixo de você, pois sabia muito bem que era mais gostoso roçar assim.
“Tá tão molhada, linda…”, murmurou em tom de elogio. “Esfregando essa bucetinha gostosa em mim… sacanagem, amor.”, o timbre grave reverberava direto na sua entradinha. Jaehyun conhecia bem. O rostinho frustrado de quem não está tendo o suficiente poderia ser notado por ele até de longe, dizia que você precisava de muito mais do que gostaria. Afinal, era um carinho frustrante, dava trabalho brincar com o seu pontinho daquele jeito — a intensidade do toque nunca era suficiente —, mas dava tanto tesão que não conseguia nem pensar em parar, roçando com mais força para remediar.
O homem não era estúpido, sabia que aquele era o momento de se aproveitar um pouquinho de você. Segurou a extensão do próprio pau pela base, guiando-se unicamente pelo tato para encaixá-lo na sua bunda, transformando o roçar gostosinho numa espanhola não muito convencional. Jaehyun era tão faminto quanto você, por isso não aguentou e logo se colocou para dentro do tecido fininho, as peles finalmente se tocando diretamente. Apertou a carne entre os dedos outra vez, estocando devagar contra o vãozinho quente. O buraquinho mais apertadinho pulsou sozinho — era difícil ignorar o carinho que recebia ali. Não havia certeza de quando, mas em algum momento você passou a negligenciar a própria vontade de se estimular, dando toda atenção ao modo como simulava reboladinhas cada vez mais sugestivas contra o caralho encaixadinho ali atrás.
Foda-se. Pouco se importava. Precisava transar de verdade nem que fosse só por uns minutinhos.
A mão trêmula tateou até conseguir encontrar a base da extensão e livrá-la do aperto da sua calcinha, segurando-a num ângulo desconfortável para encaixar a bucetinha ali. Forçou tudo para dentro, sentando devagarinho, você e Jaehyun grunhindo em uníssono. Foi tão gostoso sentir ele ali após tanto tempo que precisou de bons segundos para colocar sua cabeça no lugar.
Experimentou um rebolado lânguido, parando abruptamente ao sentir seu estômago revirar, o interior das coxas tremeu. Porra, não é possível que já tava ‘pra gozar. Tentou mais uma vez, só confirmando a suspeita de que era completamente fraca pro pau do “seu” homem. Jaehyun, se leu a situação da forma certa ou não, fez a coisa errada: roçou seu clitóris com o polegar, espalhando a lubrificação que restava ali.
“Não…”, cravou as unhas no pulso dele, empurrando a mão dali com muito esforço. “Eu vou gozar…”, reclamou baixinho, arrependia-se de ter se estimulado tanto antes de finalmente colocá-lo dentro de você, porque agora mal conseguia sentar nele sem sentir que ia se molhar inteira de tanto êxtase. “Jae… Jaehyun…”, choramingou. “Espera. Espera… Calma…”, pediu mansinha, tentando afastá-lo do seu corpo. Qualquer coisa era muita coisa, sentia-se superestimulada. Ele não desistiu, no entanto, gostava de te ver fraca, burrinha, totalmente sem controle das próprias reações. Chegou ainda mais pertinho, quase se sentando.
“Quer porra aqui dentro, amor?”, como se a voz sussurradinha já não fosse demais para a sua cabeça, ele forçou a palma da mão na parte inferior da sua barriga, tornando a pressão ainda mais forte. Você balançou a cabeça para concordar desesperada, afastando a mão dele outra vez. “Senta mais um pouquinho, senta. Vou te deixar cheinha.”, roçou o nariz na lateral do seu pescoço, largando um beijinho molhado ali. “Tá escorrendo no meu pau, amor. Você quer tanto…” ele morde devagarinho, prendendo a pele entre os dentes.
O aperto na sua bunda se firma, os dedos grossos agarrando os lados para te deixar bem abertinha. Jaehyun toma a iniciativa de fazer você se mover, usando o aperto para forçar um vai-e-vem vagaroso em cima do pau dele. A entradinha tentava se fechar a cada movimento e a sensibilidade fazia uma dorzinha gostosa pulsar no meio do estômago.
“Sobe comigo ‘pro quarto?”, a proposta soou nos seus ouvidos ao que ainda tentava adiar o próprio orgasmo, mas ainda assim conseguiu discernimento para lançar uma expressão desgostosa. “Todo mundo sabe, amor. Ninguém é idiota.”
“Vai ser constrangedor…”, mais gemeu que falou de fato.
“Constrangedor vai ser eu entrando de pau duro depois que a gente terminar aqui.”, resmungou. “Posso te colocar de quatro lá, amor. ‘Cê gosta tanto de dar ‘pra mim assim, não gosta?”, era pura provocação e, pior: do tipo que funcionava. Deixou um chorinho tão dengoso escapar que foi até humilhante. “Fica toda abertinha, falta chorar…”, envolvia a proposta num timbre doce, no jeitinho manso de falar que era tão… Jaehyun.
Você não conseguia mais.
Deixou de dar ouvidos ao homem, não era capaz de responder por si mesma estando tão cheia dele — provavelmente acabaria aceitando qualquer besteira que ele quisesse te propor pelo simples fato dele te fazer gozar gostoso. Respirou fundo quando finalmente se afastou, empurrando de volta na espreguiçadeira para que ele voltasse a se deitar.
Abriu os olhos por muito menos que um segundo, vendo a sombra de uma silhueta esguia deslizando pelas cortinas. Julgou ser Jungwoo ou ou Doyoung — os cortes de cabelo eram parecidos. Sua espinha gelou em adrenalina quando a sombra pareceu pairar muito sobre a porta encoberta pela cortina. Tremeu, a cinturinha desesperando-se com o pensamento de ter mais um orgasmo com Jaehyun arruinado. Um arrepio esquisito correu pela suas costas quando a porta se abriu aos pouquinhos, revelando um Jungwoo curioso — que ajustou a visão até ser capaz de enxergar você.
Contrário ao que achou que faria, não se sentiu minimamente compelida a se esconder ou mesmo interromper o que fazia. Talvez pudesse culpar a vontade tão teimosa de gozar ou o ruído no seu ouvido que mais soava com a sua consciência suja te pedindo para deixar que o homem visse você usando Jaehyun sem pudor algum. Jungwoo hesitou por meio segundo, quase se virando para entrar novamente, mas o modo como você sorriu toda sapeca ‘pra ele soou como um pedido para que ficasse ali.
Você passou a sentar mais forte, desfazendo de vez o nó do biquíni para deixar seus peitinhos pularem sem empecilho algum — como um prêmio pro seu espectador. Apoiou as mãos nas próprias coxas para erguer mais o torso, olhando para baixo de relance só para constatar que Jaehyun ainda estava burro demais com o próprio prazer para ser capaz de abrir os próprios olhos.
Mordeu a boquinha, apertando as sobrancelhas ao notar Jungwoo ajustando o próprio pau dentro da bermuda que usava. A carinha que ele fez quando apertou de levinho te fez ficar tão desconcertada que precisou sentar com mais força em Jaehyun, a mãozinha trêmula correndo pro grelinho sem que você pudesse pensar. Se masturbou toda desesperadinha porque sabia que já gozava, só não tinha certeza se tentava remediar ou piorar a queimação gostosa no seu estômago.
O chorinho sensível escapou da boquinha sem que você conseguisse evitar, forçando os olhos a ficarem abertos, fixados em Jungwoo, enquanto molhava o pau de Jaehyun inteirinho. Aguentou quase nada, revirando os olhinhos quando o buraquinho arruinado se apertou ‘pra esguichar mais um pouco do melzinho para fora — ficando molinha demais até para continuar sentando. Jaehyun, que já era muito bem habituado a lidar com você, tomou as rédeas rapidinho, usando o aperto na sua bunda ‘pra foder a bucetinha por conta própria.
Não demorou para que Doyoung também colocasse a cabeça para fora da porta, provavelmente estranhando o fato de Jungwoo sequer se mexer. Você ainda estava meio grogue quando precisou morder o lábio para conter o riso assim que ele também ficou de olhos arregalados ao notar o que acontecia, puxando o homem mais novo pelo braço antes de fechar a porta num baque surdo.
A expressão estúpida parecia ter triplicado quando voltou a encarar Jaehyun. Se contraiu inteira sob o olhar desconfiado do homem, o bastante para fazê-lo perder o restinho do autocontrole, apertando suas coxas todo afoito ao que estocava para cima. Socou gostosinho sem encontrar nenhuma resistência no caminho, pois mesmo sensível você ainda era faminta por ele — tinha aprendido a levar tudinho que ele quisesse te dar.
Você se abaixou, enfiando o rosto no pescoço masculino. Quase se babando e gemendo baixinho enquanto deixava ele meter rapidinho até esporrar. Só soube que o fim tinha chegado quando ele empurrou até a base, ficando parado para largar a porra quente bem no fundo da sua bucetinha.
Jaehyun mordeu o lábio dentro de um sorriso safado ao se retirar devagarinho, era completamente doente no jeito que você se apertava inteira — como se não quisesse deixar ele sair. Colocou sua calcinha no lugar com certo empenho, pois não queria deixar nada vazar para fora. Ele sentiu um suspiro mansinho no pescoço, já ensaiava qual desculpa precisaria dar para quando entrasse te carregando no colo — tinha plena noção que você entraria trocando as pernas se tentasse andar por conta própria e isso era muito pior de tentar explicar.
“Sabe, Jae…”, murmurou toda dengosa, ganhando um carinho no cabelo como se ele te incentivasse a falar. “Acho que não vai ser tão constrangedor assim…”
─── se você chegou até aqui, obrigada por ler! [🤍]
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Contains detailed, frequent descriptions of sexual acts, uses strong, explicit language, features themes of separation anxiety, desperate intimacy, and impending loss.
Genre: Erotic Romance / Smut / Military Deployment Fiction
Summary: On his final night before military service, Jaehyun arrives at his lover's house for a night of desperate, raw intimacy. Over two rounds of intense, explicit sex—marked by passionate kisses, rough play leading to multiple orgasms, and a final, emotional climax with him ejaculating inside her—the couple attempts to store up physical memories to sustain them through their long, painful separation.
The knock was heavy, desperate. When you opened the door, Jaehyun's eyes—usually warm and mischievous—were wide and pleading, edged with unshed tears. The military haircut and the soft burgundy sweater were a heartbreaking contrast. He didn't speak; he just grabbed you, his mouth finding yours in a punishing, deep kiss. Your hands flew to his face, pulling him closer, trying to absorb the grief in his mouth.
He tore his mouth away, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. "I can't believe this is it," he choked out, his voice thick. You pulled his head close. "It's okay. We have this night. Just us." He ripped his sweater off his head and threw it to the floor.
He shoved you onto the kitchen counter, his face a mask of raw need. He yanked your clothes aside, exposing you fully. This first time was a ritual for you. He dropped to his knees, his jaw tight. "I need to feel you break for me," he growled.
His mouth devoured your cunt. He didn't stop, his tongue working with a demanding, relentless pace. He slipped a wet finger deep inside you, pushing up hard and fast while his tongue worked your clit. Your eyes rolled back, a soft, helpless moan escaping your lips as your first orgasm hit. "Oh my god, Jaehyun!" He kept going, relentlessly, until the second wave crested, then the third. He was focused, driving you higher with every flick of his tongue, demanding your total release.
The fourth climax was a long, shuddering wave that made your entire body clamp down. He just smiled fiercely and didn't pull back. He kept his fingers inside you, pushing that spot until the pressure built impossibly high again. Then it hit: the fifth, massive wave. You screamed, your body shaking as a violent squirt soaked his face and the counter. Your face was flushed deep red, eyes squeezed shut, and hot tears were falling down your cheeks—tears of pure, physical pleasure.
He stood, pulling your hips forward, his rock-hard cock lining up. He looked straight into your eyes, his expression fierce and possessive. "I'm gonna breed you right here." He didn't wait for an answer, shoving himself in one deep, agonizing thrust. You let out a muffled cry as his thick shaft buried itself inside your wet pussy.
He started a heavy, grinding rhythm. Your breath hitched with every pull and shove. "It fits so good, baby," he groaned, his voice cracking with emotion. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Please don't ever leave this deep. Stay right there." He held your face, kissing you hard, mixing your sighs and his low groans.
He didn't pull out. He lifted you, carrying you to the bedroom with his cock still buried deep inside. He fell onto the bed, and you rolled onto his chest. This final round was all about closeness.
You lowered yourself fully onto his thick shaft, the movement slow and torturous. You pressed your chest to his, making your heart beat against his. He started to move, pushing up into you. You started rocking your hips, faster and faster, your hair flying around your face.
Then he grabbed your hips, his eyes burning with desire, pushing you harder. "Take me one more time, you can do this, baby!" he yelled, his voice rough with finality. He drove into you with powerful, fast thrusts. "I'm coming, I'm fucking coming! I'm putting my whole load inside you," he shouted. He drove into you two final times and then exploded a thick, hot load deep inside you.
He cried out, his body trembling as his cock twitched inside your pussy, still hard and pulsing with his cum. You held him tight, your own tears finally slipping down your temples, this time a mix of love and sorrow. "I love you. I love you so much."
He held you until the tremors stopped, his final groan a low, shaky sound against your neck. He didn't pull out. He kissed your forehead, a long, soft kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were finally wet—a single tear tracked down his cheek. "I'll be back," he promised. You just tightened your arms around him, your only answer the sticky warmth of his cum bonding you both together, already leaking out of your pussy onto the sheets.
𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖠𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖤 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀. rocco
1304𝗐𝖼 (best friend) jaehyun & (gn) reader nothing but fluff some dialogue written in hangul and left untranslated to emphasize the language barrier | jaehyun is described to be taller then yn excessive drinking skinship
THE KOREAN WORD FOR LOVE CAN BE REDUCED INTO TWO COMPLETE CHARACTERS.
사랑 (sarang) is easily written, easily pronounced and a word you know well when spoken. A word you can pick out now and then whenever Jaehyun is carrying on with his friends. One easily identified by the fluctuation of his voice. The way it comes out in a low, slurred whine whenever he’s drunk and clinging to his closest companion, or the softened, sweet intonation accompanying a phone call to his parents.
It’s always the same with him. Said slowly and intentionally. 사 slips from his teeth, lower pitched than its following counterpart. 랑 finds itself in a higher register, flicked off the tip of his tongue as it presses against the roof of his mouth. 사랑 is a familiar, practiced word when verbalized, but not so much when it’s written.
Something that Jaehyun is endlessly grateful for, considering the fact that he finds himself tracing it on your body any time he has the chance.
It never started off intentionally, this pseudo-confession of his. It was an accident, like most bad habits are, after one too many three dollar shots at some shitty hole in the wall Taeyong recommended. You don’t understand Korean. Sure, a few words here and there, but nothing that makes you remotely coherent to anything he’s half-heartedly slurring in your general direction. This in and of itself doesn’t normally pose a problem.
But after his fifth shot? English words seem impossibly out of reach and his vocabulary reverts to what he’s most accustomed to.
“나는 이 노래를 사랑해요,”
His lips are pressed to the side of your head as he speaks. Voice barely audible over the pulse of the music and the quietness of his tone. Words reserved only for you, as if you had any chance of understanding them in full. The weight of his palm presses into your shoulder, fingers curling around the curve of it and slipping down to your bicep as he stumbles where he stands.
Jaehyun is glued to your side. Pressing every bit of himself against you in both a concentrated effort to keep standing and a selfish desire to be all over you without the consequence of his feelings being all too obvious. “난 그냥 취했을 뿐이야,” he’d slur to Taeyong after one too many knowing looks, brushing him off with a roll of his eyes and beginnings of a pout, “아무것도 아니야. 그냥 술을 너무 많이 마셨을 뿐이야.”
Your incapacitated counterpart’s blonde hair is sticking uncomfortably to the curves of his cheek and the back of his neck—roots grown in and dyed ends fraying—slick with sweat from the simmering heat of the dive. His tank top is in a similar state, now slightly sheer as it clings to his torso, the short-sleeved button up he was wearing as a jacket now long gone. It would be cooler if he weren’t hanging off of you, a point that Taeyong has brought up three times too many, but Jaehyun thinks he’d rather overheat than part from your side for more than half a second.
“You what?”
You can only catch the angle of his jaw from your peripheral, unable to move your head with the weight of his own pressing into it. You wish you could—see him, that is—so that perhaps you could read his lips. Sounding out the syllables slowly before he corrects you with a huffed out laugh. You’d probably catch more than one word that way, if you weren’t too distracted by the flush of his cheeks and droop of his eyes.
“나는 이 노래를 사랑해요,” he repeats, bridge of his nose brushing against the curve of your ear as he angles his head towards his shoulder. Words enunciated slowly, clearly, and a bit louder this time. An unconscious reaction from your inability to understand and one you’d appreciate more if it weren’t partially drowned out by the obnoxiously loud drunken chatter surrounding you.
“What about the song?”
You can hear him exhale, fingers squeezing your bicep in a gentle motion that you know is attributed more to frustration than affection (though perhaps Jaehyun would say it’s a little of both). But it’s not that your confusion over such a simple sentence is completely unfounded. The use of the formal 사랑해요 (saranghaeyo) isn’t necessarily wrong but…it’s an unusual word choice. 좋아한다 (joh-ahanda), to like, would be more fitting. To like a lot rather than to feel love for.
But Jaehyun has always been a romantic, never using 사랑 flippantly and attributing it to the things he truly does love rather than simply like. Like this song.
And you.
“사랑,” the hand unoccupied with being wrapped around you is quick to get ahold of your own, “사랑해요. 나는 이 노래를 사랑해요. 사랑해,”
Jaehyun’s fingers clumsily trace the hangul onto the back of your palm. Over and over again with each repetition. As if you had any sense of what the shaky, uncoordinated strokes of his finger meant. It’s an earnest effort, one that probably wouldn’t have helped even if you were able to gather what he was spelling out with the way he keeps sloppily combining the characters together.
“Love,” he slurs, accent unusually heavy in a way that makes the ‘L’ sound more like an ‘R’, “사랑해,”
The second time he found himself writing the word, it was more purposeful with little intent of teaching. And the third. The fourth. The tenth. So on and so forth. It’s hard, honestly, to encapsulate every bit of what he feels for you in either variation of the phrase; I love you.
Three measly words that he wears out in his head, stretching them thin with overuse. He loves everything you do, everything about you. How can that be explained in such a simple phrase? 새상에 너밖에 없어 seems more fitting, though even that falls short (and is perhaps more embarrassing to say aloud).
Jaehyun finds himself drawing 사랑해 on your arm whenever you sit next to him on the couch. Your back whenever he makes the mistake of sharing your “queen” (it’s barely a full) sized bed for a sleepover. On your pulse point at dinner. Your thigh when he’s driving. He murmurs it into every hug, every shove of his shoulder when you can’t help but burst into laughter, every squeeze of your hand, every touch. It’s second nature. To trace the characters in long, languid strokes of his finger. Effortless and unconscious. Something that now comes to him as naturally as breathing.
사랑해. I love you.
When you do ask, what he’s drawing, he only hums. Red hot embarrassment prickling at his ear lobes, flushing down his neck and resting in his cheeks like he had been caught red handed (which for all intents and purposes he had been). Face a color that could rival a stop sign as he raises the back of his hand in a poor attempt to hide his flustered reaction. Eyes looking everywhere but your own as he clears his throat. “Nothing,” he says with a nervous laugh, “Just drawing.”
Jaehyun’s always been a terrible liar; his tells are much too obvious for his own good. But you don’t push him for an honest answer. Whatever it really is, it doesn’t bother you. So you drop the subject. It’s nice—his hands on you. Even if he does act like he’s never touched another person before in such an affectionate way (he has, but none of those people were you).
It becomes something you expect, something you look for in the pauses of your conversations. Something you find yourself trying to recreate—tracing the same shapes into the palm of your hand, trying to recall the lazy rhythm of Jaehyun’s own fingers. Not knowing what it means, but writing it nonetheless.
사랑해. I love you.
🦌: every time i write for jaehyun i think of the worst aura loss of my entire life where i fumbled him so horrifically during our fancall and i have to shut my laptop and go take a walk
Hello, I was wondering if u could wrote something really intimate with a possessive Jaehyun ? Miss him so much 🖤
Back to sleep (M)
Word count: 2,2k
Warnings: sexual content, oral (fem receiving), big dick jaehyun, the use of the word 'daddy' once (pls don't cringe it just felt right), unprotected sex, breeding kink
A/N: def enjoyed writing this req cuz I miss his fine ass too. Hope you enjoy 🤍🤍
Jaehyun kisses your neck, hands snaking around your waist underneath the white covers. The sunlight peaks through the blinds, hitting your face in the most perfect manner. You still smell like flowers from the night before, the scent of your perfume mixing with the salty ocean air flowing through the windows.
He feels like he could melt into your skin. You're as soft as a pillow, he just can't help but grip your skin a little tight, but not too tight. His lips linger on every spot he kisses for just a few seconds, soaking in every bit before he moves on. He doesn't know it, but you're already half awake enjoying every moment of this silently.
He slowly slips his hands up your chest, fondling your breast all while leaving wet kisses along your shoulder, his pretty soft moans escaping on your skin. “Y/N, wake up,” he whispers.
You let out a soft laugh, making him smile on your skin. “Good morning,” he whispers in your ear. “You look so pretty when you sleep.”
You lift your hand, placing it on top of his already touching your chest. Jaehyun bites his lip softly, feeling you push your ass in his hips, furthermore smothering his hard on. The man feels like he's in a dream, the way you turn, eyes half open as you stare at him still trying to fully wake yourself. He just can't help himself, immediately lifting himself off your shoulder and onto your lips, kissing you in the softest most sensual way possible.
“Good morning,” you said, voice groggy. “At least let me brush first.”
Jaehyun shakes his head. He's got that look in his eyes that means he's not planning on letting you get up from the bed for a while. You feel him move his hand from your chest silently, finger tracing down your stomach all the way between your legs.
You don't stop him when he dips a finger into your pussy, lips grazing your ear. “I'm sorry, I just can't help myself,” he mumbles. You're not looking at him but you can tell he's smiling.
You place your hand over his, pressing your back onto his naked chest, his rapid heartbeat on your back. Jaehyun rubs your clit slowly, pressing his fingers into you. You turn your head, brows slightly furrowed at the butterflies in your stomach. He wastes no time capturing your lips in a deep kiss, tongue instantly on yours. You remove your hand from his, reaching back, wanting to jerk him off, but he shook his head.
“Don't worry about me,” he said almost in a whisper. “You'll get that soon I promise.” He kisses you one more time before going back to your neck. Jaehyun kisses down your body slowly, wet kisses trailing down your side until he moves you, laying you on your back. You can tell where this was headed just by how he stared at you through his bangs.
“Baby please,” you sighed softly. “Let me shower.”
“Fuck no.” Jaehyun kisses your stomach, licking the skin as he prys your legs open. “God you're so perfect.” His body towers above yours, eyes blown with desire as he licks your chest, nipples in his mouth almost instantly. Jaehyun is so lost in your body, eyes closed as he flicks his tongue on the soft bud.
“That feels good hm?” Jaehyun stares up at you, your expressions and noises making him melt in your skin. “Keep making those noises for me princess.”
You felt like you were being punished and rewarded all the same time. He knows your body better than you do, knows what you want to hear, what you want to feel. He's your soulmate and you wouldn't have it any other way.
He moves down your body, shifting under the covers in the king-size bed. You watch as he disappears between your legs. Jaehyun kisses the inside of your thighs, nipping at the skin making you jump. “God I missed this so much,” he mumbled on your skin.
“You ate me out last night,” you giggle softly.
"And I couldn't wait to do it again." He kisses your clit, licking the bud of nerves right after. Jaehyun wrapped his lips around the bud, sucking it. His eyes were piercing as he stared at yours, your body immediately beginning to tremble from the intense pressure. Releasing your clit with a small pop, he guides the hot muscle along your pussy, licking a long stripe collecting your slick on his tongue.
He feels your hands move the blanket from his head, allowing you to see more of his beautiful face. He continues to lick you all over, making you moan more and more. He's so obsessed with you, the way you lay there sleepily eyes still droopy from waking up. Jaehyun knows no one will ever make you feel as good as he does even when he's not even trying.
“My pretty girl,” he mumbles. He reaches up, your hand instantly interlocking with his.
“Jaehyun, it feels so good,” you whimper softly. Your other hand ends up on his head, pushing it forward as you begin to move your hips. Jaehyun is staring at you, almost intoxicated on you, enjoying every moment of being at your mercy.
He keeps his tongue on your clit, moving his other hand between your legs. Jaehyun easily slips two fingers in you, your pussy squeezing around the digits. “Fuck,” you gasp.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers. “My pretty girl. All mine, right?”
“Yes baby,” you moan softly. Jaehyun fingers you slowly but that only amplifies the pressure building in your stomach.
“And this pussy belongs to me right?” You nod fast, whining louder when he fingers you faster. Jaehyun redirects his attention to your clit, tongue flicking the bud with a smirk on his face.
The air blowing in from the ocean mixed with the air in the room, the smell of salt and sex mixed hitting your nose sending a nice zing up your spine. He pounds his fingers into you, every ounce of self control beginning to disappear with every whine and whimper you let out.
“Oh my God,” you moan, throwing your head back. “Feels so fucking good. Keep going, just like that.”
Jaehyun kept his same pace, lips locked around the sensitive bud sucking softly. He could feel your walls behind him tightening around his digits, body beginning to tremble under his touch. Jaehyun knows your body too well, knows you're about to cum right on his fingers.
He feels your hands rake through this hair, a strong grip on the brown locks as you hold his other hand tight. Jaehyun fingers piston in you, the sound of your pussy squelching loud in his ears. “Keep grinding baby, you can do it. Cum for me,” he says softly, eyes locked on yours.
Your hips are moving on their own, jaw dropped as soft moans and whines fall from your mouth. “Fuck, oh my god…” The grip on his hand tightens when your orgasm hits you. That euphoric feeling filling your body. Jaehyun pulls his fingers out, staring at them with stars in his eyes.
You watch him suck his fingers cleans then immediately moving on to your soaking wet cunt, lapping up your cum like it's the last time he'll taste you.
“Holy fuck,” he mumbles. “I am so lucky to have you.” Jaehyun lifts himself up, crawling on top of you. You look so pretty under him, the thin layer of sweat on your face, lips wet and bruised from both you and him biting them.
His cock is hard, thick and long against his stomach. The tip is angry and red dripping with precum, contrast to his soft words and touches. Jaehyun loves the way you gawk. You've been with him for so long, but it still makes you excited and nervous. But aside from your lustful expression, a drained expression consumes you.
“Are you tired princess?”
You nod, lids low in lust. “If you loved me, you'd fuck me back to sleep.”
You didn't have to tell him twice. Jaehyun climbs onto you, falling onto his side. You turn your body to face him, breast pressed against his chest when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His breath is ragged, too gone to reel himself back in.
“Gonna fuck this pussy good, don't worry,” he mumbles, words almost slurred fighting against his excitement. Jaehyun lifts your leg, throwing it over his body. You're impatient and too tired to want to take things slow, so you reach between your bodies, taking his cock and lining it with you. Jaehyun pushes his tip in, a gasp leaving his lips.
“Jesus,” he moaned breathlessly. “You're all mine. All mine baby.”
“All yours.” You cup his cheek, kissing his face while he bottoms in you, splitting you open. Jaehyun thrust in you slowly, too afraid of cumming too early.
He's so deep inside you, his cock rubbing against every ridge inside you making your head spin. You kiss him soft, lips lingering on him as you breath heavily. Jaehyun's hand is tight on your waist, trembling with energy as he drags his cock in and out of you. But his self control can only last so long. He begins to thrust faster, the need for more friction starting to take over.
“Jae,” you whine softly, brows furrowing. “So deep..”
“I know baby, I know,” he coos. His deep voice rings through your ears. The slow pace feels good, too good, but you need more and he could tell. Without a word he pulls out, leaving you empty for a second before he gets in front of you. Jaehyun sheaths himself inside you quickly, pushing your legs up knees to your chest.
The sensation is too great to even make a noise, the moment he begins to drill into you, you go slack jawed. Your hands hold the back of your knees accompanying his hands on your thighs. He pounds into you, the sound of your wet cunt hits his ears making him grin.
“You like my cock so much don't you?” His voice is rough and raspy, breath staggered.
A feeble “Uh huh” is all you could let out, not being able to form the proper words. “Just like that, fuck,” you whimper.
“Anything for you baby. My pretty baby. You're made for me, just for me.. Shit, oh my gosh.” Jaehyun can't stop rambling. He's completely fucked out of his mind. The sensation of your tight wet pussy has him lost, the pleasure fogging his brain a bit too much for his comfort. But he likes feeling lost in you.
“Come here, kiss me daddy.”
Jaehyun lets his body fall, one arm holding himself up, the other wrapping around your waist. Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him deep and hard, your moans spilling into his mouth every time he hits your sweet spot. You held onto him like your life depended on it, nails starting to dig into the back of his neck.
“Who do you belong to,” he says between gritted teeth.
“You.”
“Good girl. Fuck baby I'm so close,” he groans. “Gonna cum so deep in this pussy. You'd like that wouldn't you?”
You nod fast, whimpers being the only sound you can make at this point. Jaehyun watches your eyes roll back, head slowly falling back as you let out a guttural moan. “I'm cumming Jaehyun.”
“Let go for me babygirl, cum all over this dick.” Jaehyun keeps pounding you, your walls getting tighter and tighter around him. He loves watching you cum, the way your body trembles and the cries you let out are like heaven to him, but he can't stop. He has to cum, he has to breed you. Jaehyun thrust even faster, chasing the high he's been waiting for since the moment he woke up.
“Gonna breed this pussy, gonna make you mine.” Jaehyun's eyes are screwed shut now, fucking you so deep the only thing you can see is stars. You've gone from quiet moans to loud, tired whimpers, begging for more but overstimulated at the same time. “Gonna put a baby inside you princess. You want that?”
“Y-yes put a baby in me,” you whine in his neck.
His grip on your waist gets more intense, shaky groans pouring into your ears when he cums deep inside you. The warm feeling fills you up, providing both of you with a sense of relief. And you kiss him, deep and hard the taste of his sweat hitting your lips onto your tongue.
Jaehyun fully collapsed on top of you, heaving as he buried his face in your neck. He lets a moment of silence pass, taking in the moment appreciating the closeness of your hot bodies. That's when he remembers where exactly you two are. In a beach house, windows open, the smell of the ocean hitting his nose once again mixed with the smell of both your bodies intertwined.
“I love you so much,” he whispers, listing his head when faced with your peaceful expression. You fell asleep. Your pretty lips slightly parted, face still glistening with sweat, arms still around his neck, and cock still inside you. And he could lay with you like this for ages.
The man chuckles softly, trying not to wake you from your slumber, but that's easy because soon enough he passes out right along with you.
