summary: you were just the shy girl everyone picked on—until jaehyun stood up for you. from that moment on, you couldn’t stop thinking about him… and when he finally takes you, right there at school, you let him do whatever he wants. because he’s jaehyun. and you’re his.
warnings: smut, bullying, explicit language, dirty talk, titjob, blowjob, breeding kink, public setting (school), possessiveness, emotional manipulation, oral sex, explicit descriptions of sex, dominant/submissive dynamics, unprotected sex (implied), masturbation. reader has big tits.
wc: 5,1k
you were used to it by now. the whispers, the laughter that wasn't quite hidden, the way your name passed between lips like a joke, something to smirk about. it had started freshman year and followed you like a curse ever since — a quiet, intelligent girl with a full chest and too much silence to defend herself with. you didn’t talk back. you never did. they liked that. it made things easier for them.
you had been trying to get to your locker that day, clutching your books to your chest, eyes on the floor as usual, when one of them blocked your path — tall, loud, one of the usual assholes, with a stupid grin on his face and a crowd behind him.
“what’s the matter?” he laughed. “books too heavy for your big-ass tits to carry?”
you winced, shoulders curling in, trying to push past, but he stepped closer, towering over you. someone else behind him snickered. you hated the way they looked at you — like your body was the only thing about you that existed. like your face didn’t matter. like you were just... meat.
and then, it happened.
a loud thud — the sound of a basketball slamming into skin — followed by a sharp grunt of pain. the guy in front of you stumbled back, clutching his nose, blood already dripping between his fingers. gasps filled the hallway. you blinked, stunned, just in time to see him.
jung jaehyun.
walking toward you with the kind of calm that could only come from someone who knew his power. he was tall, strong, with broad shoulders and that clean-cut look everyone in school adored — uniform perfect, tie loose around his neck, the sleeves of his shirt rolled just enough to show the veins in his forearms. and god, that face. that beautiful, unfairly symmetrical face. smooth skin, sharp jawline, soft eyes, and a smile that had dimples deep enough to drown in.
“get lost.”
he didn’t smile now, though. his eyes were cold.
“you deaf or just fucking stupid?” jaehyun asked, voice low and dangerous as he stepped right up to the guy who had just been mocking you. “i said get lost.”
no one moved.
jaehyun tilted his head. “do i need to break your nose again?”
the guy muttered something and scurried off, dragging the others with him. no one dared to stay. jaehyun had that kind of pull — not just popularity, but respect. he was the star of the basketball team, the top of the class, the golden boy. he never caused trouble, but you just knew that if he did, no one would ever dare challenge him.
when the hallway finally cleared, you realized you were still frozen. still clutching your books like a shield.
jaehyun turned to you then, and the sharpness in his expression melted instantly. he looked at you like you mattered. like he saw you.
“you okay?” he asked, voice soft now, warm like sunlight.
you nodded, too shocked to speak.
he crouched slightly to pick up the notebook you hadn’t even realized you dropped, and when he handed it to you, your fingers brushed. his skin was warm.
“listen,” he said, eyes locked on yours, “if anyone ever fucks with you again, you tell me. i’ll deal with it.”
you stared at him, heart pounding, face burning. you’d never had anyone say something like that to you. no one had everstood up for you.
“thank you,” you whispered.
and he smiled. not a polite smile — not the kind he gave teachers or classmates — but a real one. soft and open, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his dimples sink deep into his cheeks.
“anytime,” he said, and then he was walking away, basketball back in his hands, spinning it lazily on one finger as if nothing had happened.
from that moment on, he was everywhere. or maybe you were just seeing him for the first time.
every time he stepped into the classroom, spinning his ball, that same lopsided smile on his face, your heart clenched painfully in your chest. sometimes he’d catch your gaze and wave, and you’d feel your breath hitch, cheeks turning pink as you quickly looked away.
you started writing about him. not because you wanted to — you needed to. your notebooks were full of little pieces of him. how his eyes turned into crescent moons when he laughed. how he always tapped his pencil against the desk when he was thinking. how he’d tie a black headband into his hair when studying, pushing it back to reveal his perfect forehead, his sharp brows, his devastating focus.
you wrote about how he always smelled like clean soap and faint cologne. how he bit his lip when he concentrated. how he always sat with one leg bouncing slightly, headphones in, completely lost in whatever music he was listening to.
you wrote about how good he looked in uniform — shirt crisp, blazer fitting him like it had been made for his body, tie loose just enough to show the curve of his neck. you memorized the way his throat moved when he swallowed water after a game, how sweat clung to his temples, how his chest rose and fell under the fabric when he caught his breath.
and sometimes… when you were alone… you let yourself write the filthier parts, the ones you’d never say out loud. the ones you weren’t supposed to think about. how it would feel to have his fingers inside you — those long, beautiful fingers that handled basketballs and pencils and textbooks with such easy precision.
you couldn’t stop. you were obsessed.
the dreams were getting worse — or better, depending on how you looked at it. every night, your brain pulled you into a fantasy soaked with heat and desperation, and he was always at the center of it. jung jaehyun. kissing you senseless in an empty classroom, whispering things that made your toes curl, pinning your wrists down while his mouth did sinful things to your body. sometimes he’d press you against the lockers, sometimes he’d have you on your knees in the locker room, his voice low and breathless, calling you pretty while he ruined you.
you would wake up flushed, sheets tangled around your legs, thighs slick and sticky, chest rising and falling like you had just run a marathon. you didn’t know how to stop it. you didn’t want to. you were too far gone, too deep in this obsession. you thought about him when you were brushing your teeth, when you were walking home, when the teacher said his name during attendance and your heart would stutter painfully in your chest.
he was inside your head, in your notebooks, in your fucking dreams.
and then came the moment — so small, so brief, but it set your entire soul on fire.
you had been organizing your books after class, everyone else already rushing off to lunch, when you felt a presence beside you. your heart jumped in panic, thinking it was another one of the bullies, but then you heard his voice — calm and warm like a quiet summer afternoon.
“you always stay behind?”
you turned your head and there he was, leaning one arm against the locker next to yours, a lazy smile on his face.
“uh… sometimes,” you answered, your voice barely audible.
he chuckled softly, dimples forming. “you’re always so quiet. it’s kinda cute.”
and then, as if he hadn’t just completely set your whole world upside down, he straightened up and walked away, hands in his pockets, tossing a casual, “see you in gym,” over his shoulder like it was nothing.
but to you, it wasn’t nothing. it was everything.
the image of him calling you cute looped in your head like a broken record, every word replaying with different meanings. you couldn’t eat. you couldn’t breathe. how were you supposed to sit through a full gym class with him now?
the next day, the coach had you all out on the track for timed sprints. full laps around the court, the sun already high and merciless.
“four laps,” the coach barked. “let’s see if any of you are faster than last week.”
jaehyun, of course, was at the front — smooth, effortless, like running didn’t even tire him. he finished in under four minutes, barely breaking a sweat, his black shirt clinging to his back, his arms flexing with every movement as he jogged to a stop and checked his time.
you, on the other hand, were dying. you hadn’t even finished your second lap and already your lungs were burning, your legs threatening to give out, your hair sticking to your face in humid strands. you ran like a baby deer — clumsy, off balance, desperate to just finish.
you could hear the laughter behind you.
“jesus, look at those things bounce,” one of the guys snorted, pointing. “they’ve got more movement than she does.”
you didn’t have to look back to know they were talking about your chest again. your face burned with shame, but you didn’t stop. you kept running — slow, pathetic — wishing you could disappear.
from the sidelines, jaehyun had been sipping from his water bottle, head tilted back, sweat glistening along the side of his neck. the moment he heard the voices behind him, his smile faded. his eyes narrowed.
he turned — and then he saw you.
struggling to keep pace, chest heaving, arms barely lifting. and, fuck. he hated himself for it, but his eyes slipped down. just for a second. just long enough to catch the way your breasts moved with every step, pushed up tight against your gym shirt, too big to be ignored.
he looked away fast, jaw clenching, swallowing hard. he hadn’t meant to do that. you were you — the quiet, sweet girl who wrote notes in class and blushed whenever he waved at her. but his body didn’t care about intentions. his palms suddenly felt hot.
and then you stumbled.
your knees gave out mid-step and you crashed to the floor with a soft cry, your hands catching you just barely before you face-planted. a burst of dust rose around you as your body trembled, trying to get up, but you just coughed, hunched over, chest rising and falling like you couldn’t breathe.
jaehyun didn’t hesitate. he was already running toward you, weaving between students, dropping to his knees in front of you.
“hey— hey, are you okay?”
you blinked up at him, dazed, tears pricking at your eyes from the embarrassment and the pain and the heat.
he reached for you gently, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder, steadying you as you tried to sit up. your forehead pressed against his chest for a second, and that’s when it happened — your body tilted forward, and your breasts, full and warm, pressed flush against him.
jaehyun stiffened, just for a second. you felt the tension ripple through him, the way his breath caught in his throat. but he didn’t move away. he kept holding you, focused on your face.
“don’t move too fast,” he murmured. “breathe first.”
you nodded, barely hearing his words over the rush in your ears. you could smell him — clean sweat and soft cologne and something uniquely him. you could feel his arm tightening just slightly around your waist, the strength of his grip making your stomach flutter with heat.
you felt dizzy. not from the fall — but from him.
he took you to the infirmary himself. one arm wrapped around your waist the entire way, supporting your weight, even though you swore your knees were about to give out for a completely different reason. the nurse gasped a little when she saw you, ushering you inside quickly. she cleaned your hands first, then your scraped knees, the sting of antiseptic barely registered against the pounding of your heart. she gave you a bottle of electrolyte water and laid you down on the cot, drawing the thin curtain half-closed around the bed. jaehyun lingered near the corner, arms crossed over his chest, brows slightly furrowed with worry.
“you’ll be okay,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you.
the nurse told him he could go, that you’d be taken care of. he hesitated, then finally turned to leave. but just before slipping past the curtain, he paused and looked back at you.
your lips parted. you wanted to say thank you, to tell him how much it meant to you. but your throat tightened. your mouth wouldn’t move. so you just stared, wide-eyed and grateful, as he gave you the softest smile and walked away.
that image of him—turning back just for you—haunted you the rest of the day.
now, the school was silent. the sun was beginning to set, painting orange stripes across the dusty floor. you were sitting in the very back row of the empty classroom, in your regular uniform again, knees together, hands on your lap. your wounds still stung faintly beneath the bandages.
you weren’t sure why you hadn’t gone home yet. maybe you were waiting for the hallway to clear completely. maybe you were waiting for your heart to calm down. maybe… you were just hoping.
when the sliding door suddenly slammed open, you flinched, body jerking in surprise.
“y/n?”
you turned and saw him—jaehyun, standing at the doorway, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder, eyes widening when he saw you still there.
“what’re you doing here?”
you swallowed, clutching your skirt tightly. “i… i was just waiting… for time to pass,” you mumbled.
he blinked. “huh?”
you shook your head, embarrassed. “nevermind… what about you?”
he walked down the row toward his desk. “forgot my books.”
you watched him crouch, reach under his chair, and pull out a pair of thick textbooks. he dusted one off and sighed, then straightened up and turned toward you.
“guess i’ll see y—”
“wait.”
you stood up quickly, heart hammering in your throat. he paused mid-step, looking at you curiously.
you took a deep breath, walking slowly toward him. “i… i didn’t get to thank you properly. earlier. at the infirmary.”
his face softened. “you don’t have to—”
“but i want to,” you interrupted. “you’ve always helped me. since the beginning. you defended me. you smiled at me. you… you noticed me, when no one else ever did.”
he seemed confused, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “it’s really not a big deal…”
you stepped in closer, until you were right in front of him. your hands came up, trembling slightly, fingers curling around his forearms. he went still.
“let me show you how much it means to me,” you whispered.
your voice was soft but firm, and for the first time in a long time, you looked him straight in the eye. your gaze must’ve shaken him, because his breath caught, lips parting slightly.
you saw it clearly—his pupils dilated, his throat working in a hard swallow, his fingers twitching where they gripped his books.
he nodded. just once.
you dropped slowly to your knees in front of him. his books thudded quietly to the desk behind him, and his hands hovered awkwardly in the air as he stared down at you, his cheeks beginning to flush a soft pink.
“w-wait… you don’t have to—”
“don’t run away,” you said gently, undoing the button of his pants. “please… just let me do this. for you.”
your fingers slipped inside his waistband, tugging his boxers down just enough to free him. his cock was already semi-hard, twitching slightly from the anticipation. you wrapped your hand around it, stroking slowly, feeling it grow heavier, thicker, until it stood hard in your palm.
“fuck…” he whispered, barely audible.
you leaned forward, brushing your lips against the tip before pressing a soft kiss to it. his hips jerked subtly, the sound of your lips parting filling the space between you. you opened your mouth and took him in slowly, inch by inch, until your nose brushed his skin.
he gasped above you, both hands flying to your head—but he didn’t push, didn’t move. he just stood there, mouth slightly open, watching you with wide, stunned eyes.
you began to bob your head gently, hollowing your cheeks, tongue curling under him every time you came back up. soft, wet sounds filled the classroom.
“ah— shit— y/n…”
you looked up at him through your lashes, and he visibly trembled.
after a few minutes, you pulled off him with a soft pop, your hand still stroking him slowly. then, with shaking fingers, you reached up to unbutton your blouse.
he swallowed thickly as your shirt fell open, revealing your soft pink lace bra—delicate and low-cut, barely containing your breasts.
“jesus christ…” he whispered.
you reached behind and unclasped it, letting your full breasts bounce free. his eyes darkened instantly.
“you’ve… thought about this, haven’t you?” you asked softly, taking his cock again and pressing it between them. “thought about these tits around your cock?”
he couldn’t even speak—he just groaned, his hips twitching forward involuntarily.
you spit lightly on your cleavage, then sandwiched him between your breasts, squeezing them together, watching his shaft disappear into the softness.
“so big,” you whispered, beginning to move. “you’re so fucking hard already… is it because you like my tits? you always stare, don’t think i don’t notice… dirty boy…”
“f-fuck—”
he was a mess, jaw slack, hands digging into the desk behind him for support.
“does it feel good? fucking my tits like this?”
he nodded helplessly, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounced with every movement.
“gonna cum for me?”
“y/n, i— i can’t—”
you smirked, speeding up, pressing your chest tighter around him.
“do it, jaehyun. cum for me. give it to me. right on my tits— on my face— anywhere you want…”
that was it.
with a loud, choked moan, his hips bucked one final time and he came—thick spurts landing hot across your chest, your neck, and the corner of your lips.
you closed your eyes, letting it paint you, sticky and warm, your own thighs rubbing together beneath your skirt from how insanely turned on you were.
you looked up at him, covered in his release, breathing heavily.
and jaehyun just stared—like he’d never seen anything more erotic in his entire life.
his breath was still ragged when he looked down at you—your chest heaving, the mess he made still warm across your skin, your lips slightly parted, a satisfied, sinful little smile tugging at the corners. you looked wrecked, ruined, and yet—so eager. so ready for more. he didn’t even realize he was moving until his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, tugging you up with surprising strength.
“jaehyun—?”
you barely had time to speak before he spun you around and pressed you down against the long table behind you. the wood was cold against your thighs, but your skin was on fire. his grip on your wrist loosened only when your back hit the surface, and then—then both of his hands were on your waist, pushing you higher onto the desk, sliding you into place like he knew exactly where he wanted you.
his eyes were darker now, focused. his lips were parted, but not from surprise—no, this was hunger. and you couldn’t breathe. your whole body shivered, because for the first time, jaehyun wasn’t soft, or shy, or hesitating.
he was taking.
you looked up at him, pupils wide and glassy. your hands slid behind you, propping yourself up as your legs instinctively fell apart—slow, deliberate—an offering. your skirt rose high on your thighs, barely covering anything anymore, and jaehyun’s gaze flickered down, locking on the sight of your glistening underwear. he stepped forward, and the bulge pressing against his boxers brushed right over your clothed heat.
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, almost like a prayer.
his hands went to your knees, gently pushing them even wider apart. his body settled between your legs perfectly, and when he leaned down, you could feel the pressure of him—still hard, already twitching again—grinding slow and steady against your soaked panties.
“you were waiting for this, weren’t you?” his voice was low now, rough with need. “you wanted me to lose control…”
you whimpered, nodding, your hips rising slightly to chase the friction.
“you’re so wet already,” he murmured, dragging his fingers down your inner thigh before pressing against the soaked fabric. “fuck, y/n… this is all for me?”
“yes,” you breathed, voice trembling. “always you…”
his lips crashed onto yours—not soft, not tender, but needy and desperate. you melted into the kiss, moaning when his tongue slid into your mouth, his hand already curling under the hem of your skirt, tugging your panties aside to feel how soaked you truly were. his fingers slid through your folds, teasing, barely dipping inside.
“god… you’re dripping…”
his cock rubbed against your bare slit now, still restrained by his boxers, but so hot and thick you could feel every ridge and pulse. you rolled your hips instinctively, wanting him, needing him.
“please…” you begged against his lips, eyes fluttering shut. “i want you… jaehyun, i want you so bad...”
he kissed you again, deeper this time, groaning into your mouth as his fingers dug into your thighs and spread you wider on the table.
and then he whispered against your lips, voice wrecked, trembling—
“then let me fuck you like you deserve.”
you barely had time to react before jaehyun gripped your waist tighter and pulled back just enough to free himself. his cock sprang free—hard, thick, flushed dark at the tip, slick with your spit from earlier. your mouth parted at the sight, eyes wide, pulse rushing so loud it almost drowned out the sound of your own breathing.
he didn’t tease. didn’t ask. he just looked at you—those deep eyes locking onto yours—and pressed the fat head of his cock right against your soaked entrance. you gasped, thighs trembling around his hips, and when he pushed in, slow but steady, your nails scratched at the wood of the desk beneath you.
“fuck—so tight,” he groaned, jaw clenched as your walls swallowed inch after inch. “you were made for this, weren’t you? made to take me like this.”
your body arched, lips falling open in a silent moan as he bottomed out—so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. your fingers reached up blindly, gripping his shoulders, needing to hold onto something as he started to move, rolling his hips with a rhythm that made your breath hitch.
“ah—jae... fuck, you're so deep...”
“yeah?” he panted, one hand sliding up your side, gripping your throat just enough to hold your focus. his thrusts quickened, sharper now, every stroke hitting that spot that made your vision blur. “you like this, baby? you like me fucking you open like this?”
“yes—yes, please, don’t stop—”
his mouth dropped to your neck, lips hot and wet as he kissed, licked, then bit, groaning into your skin as you clenched around him. your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, hips lifting to meet every thrust, desperate, unhinged.
he didn’t slow down. couldn’t. your cunt was so wet, sucking him in, and the sounds between you were filthy—skin on skin, your moans mixing with his curses, the desk creaking beneath you. he pulled back to look at you again, hand still on your throat, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he whispered against your lips:
“you want it?” he asked, voice low, shaky. “want me to cum inside? fill you up like the dirty girl you are?”
your whole body shuddered. you nodded, gasping as your nails dug into his arms.
“yes—yes, please, jaehyun—cum in me, fill me up, i want it so bad,” you moaned, voice breaking. “please breed me... i want your cum inside me, i want you to make me yours, fuck a baby into me—please—”
his hips stuttered.
“fuck—say it again,” he groaned, pounding into you harder now, rougher.
“i want you to get me pregnant,” you cried out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from how deep he was. “i want it, i want all of it, fill me up—don’t pull out, please, jaehyun—”
he lost it.
with a guttural growl, his hand tightened on your waist, slamming into you with everything he had left. your thighs trembled, body twitching as he fucked you through the most intense orgasm yet—your vision went white, walls spasming violently around his cock.
“fuckfuckfuck—i’m gonna cum—” he choked, slamming into you one final time and staying there, buried to the hilt. “take it, take all of it—fucking take my cum—”
his hips jerked as he spilled inside you, hot and heavy, pulse after pulse of thick, messy release flooding your walls. you moaned loudly, holding him close, feeling every twitch, every drop leaking out around his cock.
he stayed there, breathing hard against your neck, both of you drenched in sweat and panting like you'd run a marathon.
“god…” he whispered, lips brushing your temple. “you feel so good. i don’t ever wanna stop.”
you smiled, blissful, dazed, and fucked-out beneath him.
his cock was still buried deep inside you, twitching slightly as your walls fluttered around him, still trying to recover from the last orgasm. your body was limp beneath him, warm and soft, and your chest rose and fell with heavy, satisfied breaths. but jaehyun didn’t move away. he didn’t even pull out. instead, he cupped your face gently, brushing damp strands of hair from your cheek, eyes locked on yours with a hunger that hadn’t faded in the slightest.
“you okay, baby?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.
you nodded slowly, voice gone, lips swollen and parted as you blinked up at him with hazy, blissed-out eyes. you could still feel his cum inside you, thick and hot, slowly dripping out around where his cock stayed snug inside your soaked pussy. the sensation alone made your thighs tremble again.
“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek as he rolled his hips—just a little. it made you gasp, your hands clutching at his arms. “laid out for me… stuffed full of my cum… god, i can’t get enough of you.”
“jae…” your voice was barely there, breathless.
“shhh, baby, i know,” he said, voice thick, low, almost reverent. “i know it’s a lot. but i need you again. just like this. slow, yeah? just let me feel you. let me keep you full.”
he started to move—deep, slow thrusts that had your mouth falling open all over again. every stroke dragged his cock against your walls in the perfect way, the mess between your bodies squelching with each push. he groaned when he felt more of his cum leaking out, and he angled his hips to press deeper, like he was trying to put it all back in.
“fuck—look at this pussy,” he growled softly. “so greedy… you’re still sucking me in like you never want me to leave.”
you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as he leaned down, kissing you tenderly. the kiss melted into something wetter, more desperate, your tongues tangled while his hips rocked slowly against yours.
“i don’t want you to leave,” you whispered against his lips. “i want more… want it all, jaehyun.”
his hand slid down your side, gripping your thigh and lifting your leg up to press your knee against your chest, folding you open more. the angle made him hit even deeper, and you gasped again, body arching under him.
“yeah?” he smirked, panting against your neck now. “you want me to fuck another load into this tight little cunt? want me to knock you up right here on this fucking desk?”
“yes—please,” you moaned, your voice cracking from how desperate you were. “give me everything again… want to be full, want it dripping out of me all night—”
“fuck—fuck, baby,” he cursed, fucking you harder now, his control unraveling again. “i’ll do it. i’ll breed this pussy until you can’t walk. make you mine. no one else is ever gonna get this. no one’s ever gonna touch you like this again.”
you cried out, gripping the edge of the desk as the pace grew heavier, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the empty classroom walls. you felt him throbbing inside you again, the pressure building so fast you couldn’t hold back.
“please cum inside—please, jaehyun—wanna feel it again—wanna be yours—”
that was all it took.
he slammed into you one last time and came with a loud, broken groan, spilling deep inside you again, hot and heavy, filling you completely. your body clenched around him, milking every drop, and you came with a sob, burying your face in his neck as your whole body shook.
he stayed there for a long time, cock still buried inside you, both of you panting, stuck together by sweat and cum and something even deeper. his hand gently rubbed your hip as he kissed your temple.
“you’re mine now,” he whispered.
and you smiled, because you already were.
you were still trembling when he finally, slowly, pulled out, and you both watched the thick mix of your juices drip down your inner thighs, pooling beneath you on the desk. he helped clean you gently, his touch careful, almost reverent, as if he didn’t want to hurt you now that your body was all sore and sensitive from how many times he’d used you.
you reached for your crumpled uniform, cheeks burning, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your blouse as you tried to fix yourself. your bra was slightly damp, your thighs sticky, your knees aching—but your heart… your heart was thudding with something deeper, fuller. you could still feel him inside you. your chest was tight with warmth, overflowing with something you hadn’t dared to name before now.
jaehyun leaned against the desk, watching you quietly with a lazy, satisfied smirk, his hair messy, lips a little swollen. he looked so unfairly perfect—just like always. but this time, you knew what those lips tasted like. you knew how his voice sounded when he moaned your name.
just as you finished adjusting your skirt and were smoothing down your sleeves, he stepped close again, towering over you with that same presence that made your knees weak.
his fingers tucked your collar into place, brushing your skin in the process. he looked into your eyes, so deep, so intense it made your breath catch.
“don’t forget,” he murmured, voice low, possessive, with a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, “you’re mine.”
you bit your lip, heart pounding all over again. “i know,” you whispered, looking up at him with stars in your eyes. “i don’t want to be anything else.”
he kissed your forehead softly, and your heart melted on the spot.
Summary: When your enemy-turned- roommate goes on a date one night, you're left to deal with your jealousy on your own. That is until Jaehyun returns home early and catches you mid act, his name spilling from your lips like a confession you never meant to make.
Genre: smut,enemies-to lovers, roommates- to lovers(?)
Word count: 4,718
Warnings: oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, self pleasure (fem), hair pulling, calling eachother names, banter/bickering, swearing, jealousy, both lowkey down bad
Taglist: @bridgertonletsgo
Author's note: This is written on 2 hours of sleep combined across multiple nights. And I keep finding new flaws each time I reread, but my brain is too fried to care anymore. Based on that bathroom part in the vcr at the fancon and my previous fic. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated as it helps me to keep writing. I hope you enjoy!
Dislaimer:This work is purely fictional. Any resemblance to real person(s) is used solely for creative and fictional purposes and should not be understood as factual representation.
The first problem was that your roommate moved out. The second problem was that rent was due in three weeks. The third problem was him.
Jeong Jaehyun.
At the time, you naively didn't even realise he would become the biggest problem of all.
You found out about your roommate leaving on a Thursday evening.
"I've got news," she announced.
You immediately knew something was up.
"Why do I feel like you’re gonna tell me something bad?"
She laughed nervously.
Because she was doing exactly that.
Apparently, her boyfriend had gotten a new apartment so they'd decided to move in together.
And she would be gone by the end of the month.
You looked at her dumbfounded.
Then you asked the only question that mattered.
"What happens to rent?"
The answer was exactly as awful as you'd expected.
The apartment wasn't cheap.
You could manage your half comfortably.
The full amount?
Not a chance.
So for the next two weeks, your life became one long search for a roommate.
You interviewed everyone.
Students.
Coworkers.
Friends of friends.
Even strangers from rental websites.
And every single one was somehow worse than the previous candidate.
One showed up forty minutes late.
One asked if you'd mind sharing your room because "walls are kind of a social construct."
Like what the actual fuck?
One spent ten minutes explaining cryptocurrency eventho none of the questions you had asked him were about cryptocurrency.
It was safe to say that you were losing hope fast.
Then one afternoon you got a text from a mutual friend.
Hey. Weird question.
Do you still need a roommate?
Maybe...why?
Jaehyun needs somewhere to stay.
You stared at the message almost offended.
Then immediately typed back.
Absolutely not. I'd rather die.
The response came seconds later.
He said you'd say that.
Of course he did.
You'd known each other for years.
Not by choice exactly, but because somehow, he was always present in your life one way or the other. It started with mutual friends then came the mutual events and it blossomed in mutual annoyance. And every encounter somehow ended in an argument.
You couldn't stand him.
He couldn't stand you.
At least that was what you told yourself.
Then your friend sent another message.
He's desperate.
You almost laughed at the text but then looked around your apartment, and remembered your bank account. And quickly came to the realisation that you had no right to laugh at him when you were on the verge of ending on the streets yourself if you didn't find a roommate soon.
A deep sigh left you.
The kind of sigh people made before making life-altering mistakes.
Fine. He can move in next week.
────────────────────────────
The first time Jaehyun stepped into the apartment, he looked around like he was inspecting a crime scene.
"This is smaller than I expected."
"You can leave."
He chuckled.
"You haven't changed."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't."
You rolled your eyes.
"Whatever."
He grinned wider.
Your friend watched the interaction.
"Wow."
"Wow what?" you asked.
"I forgot how much you two hate each other."
"We don't hate each other."
Jaehyun looked at you.
And you looked back.
A beat passed.
"Yeah, no I definitely hate him."
He scoffed.
"Good. I'd hate to be all alone in this."
Your friend buried her face in her hands, already starting to regret her decision to help.
────────────────────────────
Living together started exactly how you'd expected.
Terrible. No, more than just terrible.
The arguments were immediate.
Who used the last coffee pod.
Whose turn it was to take out the trash.
Which television show to watch.
Whether cereal counted as dinner.
It definitely did.
Jaehyun insisted it didn't. There was no "real" nutrition in it, apparently. Eventho, you don't remember asking for his opinion.
The worst part was that he genuinely seemed to enjoy annoying you.
Especially because your reactions entertained him.
One morning, you walked into the kitchen half asleep.
Jaehyun was already there.
Leaning against the counter.
Coffee in hand.
Hair still messy from sleep.
You barely looked at him.
"Morning."
"Morning, sweetheart."
You stopped walking.
Slowly turned around.
"What did you just call me?"
His expression remained perfectly innocent.
"Sweetheart."
"Don't."
"Okay."
You relaxed. For exactly one second.
Then that smile appeared on his face. The one that told you how wrong it was to think he was actually going to stop.
"Morning, princess." He said, exaggerating the n for added effect.
You threw a napkin at him.
He looked delighted.
That should have been your warning.
Because after that it became a daily occurrence.
Sweetheart.
Honey.
Pretty thing.
Sunshine.
Baby.
Every ridiculous nickname imaginable.
Only for you.
Never for anyone else.
Which annoyed you to no end.
"You know," you said one afternoon, "one day somebody's going to punch you."
He looked up from the couch.
"Maybe."
"I hope it hurts."
He smiled.
"You volunteering?"
You hated how attractive his smile was.
You hated how attractive he was.
Actually, no.
You hated that you noticed in the first place. That was the actual dilemma.
Because somewhere along the way things had become complicated.
It started small.
A glance that lasted too long.
A laugh that sounded nicer than it should.
The realisation that you always knew where he was in a room.
The realisation that you looked for him.
And suddenly you were in love with your roommate.
Your infuriating, annoying, way too cocky, enemy of a roommate.
Which was a disaster, to put it lightly. Because Jaehyun clearly thought flirting with you was a game. A way to get under your skin. But nothing more.
Meanwhile, every teasing grin of his nearly killed you inside.
────────────────────────────
Three months later, things became somehow worse.
You had adapted to living together.
Which was dangerous.
Because now Jaehyun was woven into your routines.
You knew what time he woke up.
What coffee he bought.
What shows he secretly watched when nobody was around.
You knew he hummed while cooking.
You knew he left cabinet doors open.
You knew he got grumpy when he was tired.
You knew entirely way too much.
One Friday evening you were met with a mouth watering smell as soon as you opened the front door.
It seemed like Jaehyun was cooking for once.
There was no way, right?
Following the delicious smell, you walked into the kitchen and looked over to the stove.
"What are you making?"
"Dinner."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Then don’t ask if you already know."
He pointed a spoon at you.
"You know, conversations are usually easier when people don't start with stupid questions."
You scoffed.
“That’s a bold way to announce that you're too stupid to handle basic conversation.”
He laughed and just handed you a spoonful to taste.
You immediately froze.
Because he was suddenly very close.
Close enough to see every detail of his face. Close enough to feel the softness of his hoodie brush your skin. Close enough that your heart immediately started behaving like an idiot.
"Well?" he asked.
You quickly tasted it. "It's good... I guess."
His grin appeared. "Damn. Such high praise? I thought you'd spit it out."
"Don't get used to it."
"I think I will."
His lips curved into a smile when he got the last word in, and those irresistibly cute dimples made your heart skip a beat
God.
Oh God.
You were doomed.
────────────────────────────
A week later came the date.
You knew something was up with him all day, so when you walked into the living room, you were already prepared to be annoyed, but the sight in front of you nearly took you out.
Jaehyun was changing the middle of your living room, standing in front of the near full-length mirror. And you could swear you heard your brain shut down like those old Windows computers.
A white shirt was hanging loose from one hand while he stood there completely shirtless. Looking every bit like he walked straight out of your wildest dreams.
Endlessly broad shoulders on display. Those defined biceps, which you wanted to take a bite out of. A toned chest and a set of abs that looked like they belonged in a fitness ad instead of your living room.
You completely froze. And for one terrible second, your eyes lingered.
Then another second.
Then another.
His voice cut through the silence.
"Like what you see?"
You snapped your gaze upward.
He was already looking at you.
Smirking.
The worst part, tho?
He didn't seem embarrassed at all.
In fact, he looked delighted.
Absolutely basking in delight.
Your face heated immediately.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Oh, I'm not." His grin widened.
"Your expression is doing all the flattering for me."
You scoffed and tried to walk past him.
Unfortunately, that required getting closer.
Which only made you notice things you definitely didn't want to notice.
The definition in his shoulders.
The way his arms flexed as he casually held the shirt.
The absolutely unfair muscle definition across his stomach. All the way down to his v-line that was dangerously peeking out...
You looked away so fast your neck almost hurt.
A low laugh escaped him.
"There it is again."
"There is what again?"
"That look."
"There is no look."
"Right." He nodded. "And you weren't staring at my abs thirty seconds ago."
You cleared your throat in a desperate attempt to play it nonchalantly.
"I was not staring."
"You absolutely were."
"I was distracted."
"By my abs."
"No!"
"By my shoulders, then?"
You hid your face in your hands, giving yourself away.
His eyes lit up immediately.
"Oh my God, it was the shoulders."
"Shut up."
He laughed.
Actually doubled over laughing at you.
The jerk looked impossibly pleased with himself.
"You know," he said, pulling on the shirt at an agonizingly slow pace, "for someone who claims to hate me, you spend a surprising amount of time looking at me."
You folded your arms.
"Trust me. Nothing about this changes the fact that you're insufferable."
"Mm." He buttoned another button.
"That's not denial."
You glared at him.
He grinned right back.
You let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on the couch, side eying him.
He looked back into the mirror, now finally dressed in that white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up neatly, displaying his delicious forearms, dark pants, his hair styled up instead of being in his eyes like usual. And he'd decided to wear cologne.
The exact same one that turns you into a mess everytime he wears it.
It's enough not to be overwhelming.
Yet just perfectly enough to make you painfully aware of it.
Your stomach twisted.
Because he looked good.
Really good.
Unfairly good.
Jaehyun noticed you staring again. And a slow smirk crept back on his handsome face.
"Take a pic. It'll last longer."
You looked away immediately, ignoring his words.
"Why are you dressed like that?"
His grin widened once again.
"Like what?"
"You know exactly what."
Jaehyun made eye contact through the mirror as he adjusted his cuff,
"I've got a date."
Your stomach dropped completely.
A date. Right. Why wouldn't he...
He was attractive, charismatic when he wanted to be, and infuriatingly good at making people like him, so it was only a given that he had dates lined up for him.
You forced a shrug.
"Poor girl."
His mouth twitched.
"Jealous?"
"In your dreams."
He laughed.
"You wish I was."
That was all you managed.
"Oh?"
Jay tilted his head.
"You sound disappointed."
You scoffed.
"In your dreams."
"Mhm."
You rolled your eyes to convince him, or maybe convince yourself.
"Have fun." You said, even if the words tasted like ashes in your throat.
His gaze lingered on you.
Longer than necessary.
Then his grin returned.
"Try not to miss me too much, princess."
"Get out."
He left, laughing at your frustration all the way out the door.
But this time, the sound didn't give you the usual butterflies. Instead, it felt like a knife slowly being twisted inside of you.
Jaehyun wasn't yours.
He never had been.
He never would be.
So why did the idea of him going on a date make you feel sick?
You hated it.
You hated everything about it.
────────────────────────────
The apartment felt empty afterwards.
Annoyingly empty.
And the evening only seemed to drag on.
You watched half a movie, you couldn't focus. You opened a book, didn't read a word. You checked the clock, then, checked it again ten minutes later.
This was pathetic.
Absolutely pathetic.
You weren't jealous.
Why would you be jealous.
No, that definitely wasn't it.
You were—
Okay.
You were jealous.
A little.
Fine.
A lot.
Some girl was probably sitting across from him right now. Laughing at his stupid genius jokes. Looking at him the way you tried not to.
You tried distracting yourself again, but it didn't help. It's like your brain insisted on imagining things just to torture you.
Was he having fun?
Was she pretty?
Was she making him laugh?
Did she get to see that smile?
The one that made you fall in love with him the first time.
The thought made your heartache worse.
Hours kept passing. And you were becoming increasingly miserable.
By ten o'clock, you were stretched out on the couch, phone in hand, trying to scroll through social media, but every few minutes, your thoughts drifted right back to the same thing.
Him.
Specifically, the moment you'd walked into the living room earlier.
You groaned and dropped your phone onto your chest.
This was pathetic. Actually pathetic.
You pressed a pillow over your face.
You weren't supposed to notice things about him. You certainly weren't supposed to remember them hours later. And yet your brain kept supplying details without your permission.
His broad shoulders.
His strong arms.
His stupid abs that were way too unnecessarily defined.
Even the way he'd looked completely at ease standing there while you forgot how to function.
Heat crept up your neck.
You shifted on the couch.
"Seriously?" you muttered to yourself.
The memory should have faded by now.
Instead, it seemed to be getting worse.
Every time you remembered the look on his face when he'd caught you staring, your stomach tightened.
Not in a bad way, which was exactly the problem. A very, very annoying problem.
Why him? Of all people, why him?
The guy was insufferable.
Arrogant.
Smug.
Impossible.
And somehow that only made remembering his self-satisfied grin worse.
Your pulse kicked up at the thought.
You immediately sat upright.
"No."
Absolutely not.
You were not doing this.
You were not lying on your couch thinking about Jaehyun or his perfect body.
Unfortunately for you, telling yourself not to think about him only made his face appear in your mind again.
His laugh.
His teasing.
His deep voice.
A strange restless energy settled under your skin. So you stand up and walk to the kitchen. Get a glass of water. And sit back down, drinking the cold water in one go.
The coldness lasted approximately thirty seconds before your thoughts wandered right back to him.
"You're actually the worst," you informed the empty room.
But no matter what you did, he didn't leave your mind. So much so, it got you bothered.
And there was no way you could ignore it at this point.
Jaehyun wouldn't be back in a few hours if he got back at all tonight. So technically, you could do whatever you wanted right now.
It felt so wrong.
How could you think about him of all people like this? How could your own body betray you like this? But the ache between your legs only got worse the more you tried to reason.
So before you know it, your hands are gliding down your own body all the way until you reach the waistband of your shorts. You could still stop now. You should stop now, but the need for relief overtakes your senses.
The moment your fingers come in contact with your soaking cunt, you let out a deep moan.
"Mmmgh...fuck,"
Your shorts and panties are pulled aside just enough that you can feel the cold air in the apartment on your skin.
Your thoughts drift to how it would feel like to run your hands over his body as your fingers glide through your already soaked folds and you start circling your clit.
"Ohh...Jaehyun..."
The quickly forming puddle on the couch is the least of your concerns as you keep imagining how good he'd feel inside of you. How he'd fil you up just right. All the way until neither of you'd know where he ends and where you start.
The vivid images make your pussy clench around nothing. So you ease the ache by pushing two fingers gently inside and immediately curling them to hit that spot that makes your toes curl every time.
"Fuckk...hnngh"
You slowly push in and out, your cunt squelching at the pace. And you feel the obscene nosies mixed with your loud moans, bounce off the walls in the empty apartment. Making the whole thing feel even more wrong.
Yet so good.
You imagine how pretty his skin would look with your marks all over him. How his deep voice would sound in your ears when he's overwhelmed with pleasure. How good his body would feel against yours as he fucks you into the couch.
"Jaehyunnn...please,"
Your coated fingers desperately thrust into yourself to the thought of his cock twitching inside of you as you'd feel him get close. Which only makes the coil in your stomach tighten as you pick up the pace.
You're almost there already. The combination of your imagination and your movements are enough to bring you to the edge.
Almost-
"Please what, princess?"
For one horrible moment, you can feel your soul actually leaving your body as you lock up and register his voice at the same time.
No! You heard wrong. He isn't home. He can't be-
Slowly, you lift your head.
And to your absolute horror, Jaehyun is, in fact, standing by the doorway. One shoulder leaning against the frame and wearing that infuriating smirk across his face in pure delight.
Oh no.
No.
No no no.
You quickly pull up your shorts and try to hide yourself with a pillow.
"How- how long have you been standing there?"
His grin only widens.
"Long enough."
You wanted to disappear. Have the earth swallow you immediately and forever.
"I wasn't—"
"You were moaning my name."
"I wasn't."
"You absolutely were."
"I-"
"You missed me."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I didn't."
He walked over and leaned down slightly. Close enough that you could smell the cologne again. Close enough that your heart started acting up again.
"Princess," he murmured, clearly enjoying every second of this, "If you wanted me that badly, a little asking would’ve gone a long way."
Before you can react, he’s already on the couch, straddling you and trapping you there, his hands braced on either side of your head.
"Is this what you do when I'm not home?"
He grabs your hand, the same one you just used on yourself, and kisses up your wrist, whilst looking deep into your eyes.
"I- I don't-"
"You're such a bad liar, baby"
Slowly, he kisses up your hand, tongue flicking out to lick the same fingers you just used on yourself.
"Mhmm. How sweet."
You freeze, breath hitching as you stare at him in disbelief.
"That little act of yours—that so-called ‘hate’ you feel for me—isn’t really working, is it princess?”
You unconsciously press your thighs together, and his gaze darkens—something in his expression shifting in a way you’ve never seen before.
"You want me?"
Your breath catches.
"I asked you a question."
"...Yes."
"Yes, what? Use your words."
"Yes, I...I want you."
"But we shouldn't..." You start whispering, not because you didn’t want him. Because wanting him had become the only thing you could think about for months now.
His answer was quieter.
“I know.”
But he didn’t pull back. And you didn’t either.
His thumb brushed against your slightly parted mouth.
"I've wanted to taste these pretty lips for so long now..."
His eyes flicker up to yours, and you see the desperation in them.
"Tell me to stop before I lose my mind."
Unable to deny him—or yourself—any longer, you pull him in by the back of his neck and press your lips to his in a firm, decisive kiss.
The kiss doesn't begin gently.
It starts like something is breaking. Like months of restraint finally giving up at once, like every ignored glance and unfinished sentence collapsing into a single, undeniable moment. His hand rises to your face like he’s been waiting too long to remember he was always allowed to touch you. You, in turn, grab onto his shoulders as you deepen the kiss. His warm tongue glides across your bottom lip, and you instinctively open up as you both can't seem to get enough.
You'd imagined this so many times. To the point a part of you had started to believe the real thing could never live up to it. But the moment his lips met yours, every version you'd ever invented just vanished into thin air.
He slowly makes his way down your jaw, all the way to your neck, leaving behind little kisses like promises on your skin.
He looks up, searching for your eyes, "can I keep going?"
You nod immediately, too breathless to speak a word.
He smiles back at you before slowly settling between your legs.
His hands slide down your body. Over your the swell of your breasts, down your stomach and along your thighs.
"You're so beautiful..."
Jaehyun slowly pushes your thighs apart and gently yet firmly, starts pressing kisses on the inside of your thigh. Every kiss closer to where you wanted him the most. And he doesn't take long either before you feel his tongue licking a fat stripe over your shorts.
You gasp at the sensation.
Jaehyun smirks at your reaction before kissing up your core until he reaches the edge of your shorts. With quick hands, he removes the barrier between himself and what he wants. After making sure with you one last time.
You draw a sharp breath as the cold air hits your pulsing cunt for the second time that night. His fingers gently press into your thighs, keeping them apart.
A deep, unrestrained moan falls from his lips as he sees how worked up you already are.
"What a pretty princess, you are." he praises as he takes in the sight of your glistening pussy.
Jaehyun groans at the way you already start clenching around nothing. "You want it that badly, baby?"
That question makes you hide your face and instinctively try to close your legs as heat creeps up your neck. But Jaehyun’s hands shoot up immediately, holding them apart.
“Uh-uh, princess… don’t hide now. You were doing so well for me.”
The protest in your throat dies down the minute Jaehyun's mouth attaches itself onto your cunt. His smooth tongue flat against you, lapping up your dripping juices.
Fuck. He knew how to use it. It definitely wasn't his first time.
He matches every lick to every curve. And every flick to every angle. You squirm against his face, a hand inevitably reaching out to fist into his perfectly styled hair. And a soft whimper escapes your throat as you press him further into you, feeling a moan vibrate through your body whilst his nose brushes against your clit.
"Fuckkkk," you whimpered, gasping for air already as you look down at him.
And almost come on the spot at the sight of him.
His mesmerising, chocolate eyes, lock with yours as he pulls your legs over his shoulders and moves your hips as he dives in deeper. His mouth glistens with your juices, and a smirk locks back in place as he feels you get wetter by the second.
When you tug on his hair, he gives you a split second to breathe before resuming. Picking up his pace even more as continues to drink you, utterly obsessed by the way you taste. Like he'd never get enough. Like he could die happily as long as he could taste your sweetness.
Your breath catches as his tongue moves to your clit, circling and flicking firmly. "Jaehyun," you gasp, eyes closing at the overwhelming feeling.
He pulls back, chuckling at your state, lips swollen from his effort and your essence dripping down his chin.
"Look at you, baby. So lost for words. You’re usually impossible to shut up when you’re pretending you can’t stand me. Is this all it takes, princess? Just my mouth, and you're already a mess for me. You love it, don't you? This is exactly what you wanted isn't it?"
You shoot him a glare, which only seems to amuse him more. His smirk deepens as his teeth graze your clit, and you suck in a sharp breath.
"You fucker," you mutter.
The look in his eyes turns completely wicked as he stays perfectly still, purely to spite you. "Tell me you love it, and I'll make you see stars, baby"
You narrow your eyes and clench your teeth but can't help and give in, "yes, I love it. Jaehyun."
"That's a good girl."
And that's all it took for him. All he needed before he put his tongue back on you and sucked and prodded every bit of your cunt like there is no tomorrow. The burn of his scalp as your fingers kept tugging his hair only adding to his growing bulge.
The way your hips moved against his mouth, the way you kept pulling him in, the way your pussy only seemed to get better by the minute had him going crazy.
"Fuck, yes, Jaehyun!" you cried out, hips rolling up against his tongue, making him hum against your swollen folds.
Jaehyun couldn't stop. Like his fingers had been glued to your thighs whilst the wetness kept leaking from your pussy. You just tasted so fucking good.
Jaehyun whined as his tongue flattened over you, and he started to slurp all the juices before they could escape.
"Jaehyun...Oh God! Jaehyun!" you kept moaning, and the pit of your stomach started to coil up again.
Fuck. You were so close now.
Jaehyun said nothing, continuing his assault on your clit. Alternating between sucking and licking every few seconds, not wanting to miss a crevicle of your pretty pussy.
"Don't hold back, baby. Come for me,"
The moment those words left his mouth and you felt him adding a finger, you came undone. Your hips shaking against his face as your climax hit. Juices running down your thighs and to your ass, which he happily licked off.
The pleasure rushed through your body in pulses, leaving you seeing stars just like he promised you.
He only stops when you push him off and leans back wiping his mouth, looking at your blissed out state in satisfaction.
You’re still on the couch, trying to get your breathing back under control when you tell him,
“This doesn’t change anything.”
Jaehyun lets out a deep chuckle, like you’ve just told him a bad joke.
“You were singing a very different tune a second ago.”
“That was- That was just momentary misjudgment.”
“Oh? Was it now, my princess?” he murmurs, clearly not believing you.
He leans in again, catching your hands and pinning them above your head with infuriating ease. You shut your eyes on instinct, waiting for it—breath caught, heart already giving you away again.
But nothing happens.
Just as he brushes your lips, he pulls back.
You make a small, frustrated sound before you can stop yourself. His smirk turns cunning, like he was exactly waiting for that reaction.
He gets off you, already turning to his room.
“Come find me when you’re done pretending,” he says over his shoulder.
A pause.
Then, his voice drops dangerously lower,
"And I'll gladly make sure you and the neighbours never forget my name again."
Then he leaves with that calm, teasing certainty, like you’ve already been his this whole time, and he’s just patiently waiting for you to realize it—leaving you breathless and completely undone on the couch.
jaehyun gets jealous, and he makes sure you know you’re only his.
❛ content 1.8k words, husband! jaehyun, jealousy, a lots of physical touch, possessive behaviour, lots of kisses, light biting, slightly suggestive at the end (?), hubby jaehyun just wants reader only for himself.
your laughter filled the air again, spilling through the rows of desks like sunlight. a few coworkers glanced up with faint smiles before turning back to their screens, but you didn’t notice — you were too caught up in your coworker’s ridiculous story about the time he accidentally spilled coffee all over a client’s laptop.
you leaned forward against the edge of your desk, eyes bright, hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle another laugh.
that’s the exact sight jaehyun walked in on.
his chest tightened immediately at the view. the office smelled faintly of ink and warm coffee, and somewhere, someone’s phone was buzzing on a desk. but all jaehyun saw (all he cared to see) was you. you, grinning ear-to-ear at another man.
he should have known better. you loved him, you were completely his, you had stood in front of dozens of people and promised it. still, that irrational burn in his stomach rose fast, curling into his throat until it threatened to spill. his lips pressed into a firm line as he shoved his hands into his pockets, broad shoulders squared in a stance that screamed 'don’t test me'.
your coworker said something else, and you laughed again, head tilted back slightly. jaehyun’s eyes tracked the way your throat moved when you did, the way your cheeks flushed from genuine amusement.
that should’ve been his.
the click of his polished shoes against the office tiles made you turn your head, and the moment you spotted him — your whole expression shifted. your smile widened, your eyes softened, like every part of you was suddenly tuned to him and him alone.
“hyunie!” you called warmly, voice carrying across the small office. “you’re here already.”
the coworker blinked, turning to look at jaehyun.
“ah, this must be the famous husband. i heard a lot about you.”
jaehyun moved closer, each step steady but heavy. his gaze flicked briefly to your coworker’s face, then dropped — too close. his arm brushed against yours when he reached your desk, and only then did his lips twitch into something resembling a smile.
“yeah,” he said evenly, his voice low but unmistakably firm. “i’m the husband.”
your coworker’s brows rose at his tone, then he chuckled lightly, raising his hands as though to surrender. “got it. loud and clear. well—enjoy your lunch, you two.”
he retreated quickly, muttering something about an email he had to finish.
you then fully turned to jaehyun, brows lifting. his face was unreadable, though his eyes were fixed on you, scanning every detail like he needed proof you were really his. his hand slid to your lower back, warm and solid, guiding you toward the door with a touch that was a little firmer than necessary.
as you walked together, you could feel the heat radiating off him, his tall frame crowding your space like he refused to let even the hallway air touch you.
“hyunie,” you teased softly, tilting your head up at him slightly. “that was… a little intense.”
jaehyun didn’t answer right away. his jaw was tight, and his thumb moved in slow, unconscious circles against your hip, holding you closer than usual. his brown dark eyes flicked down to meet yours finally, and the storm in them made your chest tighten.
“he made you laugh,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl but with a thread of vulnerability woven in. “like… like the way you laugh with me. i don’t like that.”
your lips parted in surprise. “baby… he’s married. you know that, right?”
jaehyun leaned down, closing the distance until his forehead brushed yours. his voice dropped, a little husky, almost a whisper only you could hear.
“i don’t care,” he said, his pout barely restrained. “that laugh is mine. that smile—” his fingers pressed firmer into your hip, “—is mine. you are mine.”
you felt your breath catch as his warm lips brushed yours in the middle of the hallway — not rushed, not sloppy, but slow and deliberate. he tilted his head, deepening it just enough to make his point very, very clear. his hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek as he kissed you like the entire office could disappear and he wouldn’t even care to notice.
when he finally pulled back, his brown eyes were still locked on yours, chest heaving slightly.
“tell me i’m right,” he whispered.
you were still catching your breath, lips tingling, heat rising in your neck. god, he was ridiculous. ridiculous and so hot you could barely think.
you chuckled softly, brushing your thumb against his lower lip. “you’re right, hyunie. i’m yours. only yours.”
his lips curved then, the first real smile since he walked in, but his grip on your waist didn’t ease — if anything, it tightened, as though he never intended to let you go.
and, in all honestly, you didn’t want him to.
you never wanted him to.
jaehyun kept you tucked firmly against his side as he led you out of the building. it wasn’t like he was dragging you — jaehyun would never be rough with you — but the weight of his palm on your waist was unmistakable. it was claiming and protective. he held you in a way that left no room for doubt about who you belonged to, his fingers spread wide and pressing warm through the thin fabric of your shirt.
the moment the office door clicked shut behind you both, you immediately felt his chest expand with a deep inhale, like he could finally breathe again now that you were out of sight.
still, his silence spoke louder than anything else.
“hyunie,” you murmured, tilting your head as you walked across the parking lot together. “you’re awfully quiet.”
he didn’t look down this time, his jaw set as he guided you to his car. “mmh.”
just that. a clipped sound, tight in his throat. his hand squeezed your side briefly, thumb digging in for a second before easing. you recognized that tic — it was the physical version of his pout.
by the time you reached the car, you were already suppressing a smile.
he opened the passenger door for you, steady and courteous as always, but his eyes lingered, scanning your expression like he was making sure you hadn’t given away something important to someone else. only once you were settled in did he round to the driver’s side, sliding in with a tension that made the air feel heavier.
the car was warm, faintly scented with the cologne you’d picked out for him weeks ago. the engine didn’t start. instead, jaehyun turned in his seat immediately, his large hand reaching for your thigh without hesitation.
the heat of his palm sank through your slacks, grounding and possessive all at once. he didn’t move it right away — he just held you there, thumb resting against the curve of your leg, his dark eyes locked on yours.
you raised a brow. “you’re not going to drive?”
“no,” his voice was really soft, but there was still an edge underneath, an unmistaken stubbornness. “not until you tell me again.”
your lips quirked. “tell you what?”
“that you’re mine.”
his fingers flexed on your thigh, the muscles in his forearm tensing. he leaned closer, every inch of him radiating heat, until the scent of his cologne and the faint warmth of his breath wrapped around you.
“that no one else gets your smile. or your laugh. or…”
his hand slid a fraction higher, squeezing, enough to make your pulse jump.
“…anything.”
the jealousy in his tone was sharp, but his eyes — dear lord, his beautiful eyes — were way more than that. dark brown and glossy with something rawer. not anger. but fear. that tender, ridiculous fear of losing you, even though he had no reason to.
your chest softened immediately. married or not, he was still your puppy, desperate for reassurance.
so, you chuckled softly, brushing your knuckles against jaehyun’s jaw.
“you’re so dramatic. we literally have matching rings,” you lifted your hand slightly, wiggling your left ring finger, the gold band catching the light. “pretty sure that’s proof enough.”
“not enough,” he said instantly. his eyes dropped to your ring, then back to your eyes, intense and unyielding. “say it again. please.”
the word cracked his voice ever so slightly. that single crack undid you.
you reached up, sliding your fingers into his hair. the strands were soft, silky between your fingertips, and the second you tugged lightly, he leaned in like a man starved. his nose brushed yours, and you whispered, slow and steady, letting every word sink into him :
“i’m yours, jaehyun. only yours. always.”
his breath hitched. his lips parted, eyes fluttering shut like he was savoring each syllable. then he kissed you.
it wasn’t a tentative kiss — hell, there was no hesitation in it. his mouth was on yours with a hunger he hadn’t been able to show in the office, lips moving firmly against yours as though he could press the words into your skin and bone. his hand on your thigh tightened, dragging slightly higher, thumb pressing into the heat of your muscle through the fabric.
you gasped softly into the kiss, and that was all he needed. he tilted his head, deepening it, sliding his other hand up to cup your jaw. his thumb stroked along your cheekbone as if to ground you, but the kiss itself was anything but calm — it was consuming.
every breath was his, every sound muffled against the press of his lips. he kissed you like he was trying to drown out the memory of you smiling at someone else, like he needed to overwrite it with something stronger, louder, and undeniable.
when jaehyun finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, your chest heaving. his forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged, but his hand still clamped on your thigh, thumb now drawing restless circles as though he couldn’t stop touching you.
“i swear,” he murmured, voice low and rough, vibrating against your lips, “if anyone ever tries to take your attention again, i’ll—”
his words broke off, the frustration spilling into a whine as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. his lips brushed your skin, hot and damp, moving slowly toward the spot just beneath your jaw.
“i can’t stand it. you’re mine. mine, mine, mine…”
the repetition was muffled against your throat, more a plea than a threat. his teeth grazed you, just barely, and you felt the shiver race down your spine.
you closed your eyes, fingers sliding under his collar to stroke the warm skin at the nape of his neck. his muscles were taut, strung tight under your touch, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as your pulse raced.
“god, hyunie,” you breathed, lips curling. “you’re so hot when you’re like this. you know that?”
a low groan rumbled from him, muffled against your skin. he nipped lightly at your neck, then pulled back just enough to look at you again. his eyes were darker now, his lips parted and swollen from the kiss, his cheeks faintly flushed.
he was every shade of hot and cute at once, and you felt your stomach twist with warmth.
“say it again,” he whispered, voice hoarse.
and you knew he wouldn’t stop asking — not until every last inch of him was sure you belonged to him alone.
“damn…” voice dripping with perverted amusement as they watched you with a hungry gaze, wanting to get a piece of you like a gold metal — rare and untouchable.
eyes diverting to you, scanning every piece of your curves as your muscles were commanding to your every move, your body moving to the rhythm — slow, teasing. the subtle light contrasted through the stage as it shines across your body. you look ethereal under the faint glow as your rhythmic movements made it impossible for many to not look your way as people who were sitting on booths from across the room or closer to you tried to get a peek at you while women were grinding against their laps – swiftly and hypnotizing, yet their attention was all on you.
you glowed under the faint shimmer as you danced like a swan — each movement fluid, each flow calculated with elegance as the spotlight choreographed to your rhythm. bills poured from the sky like confetti, men dressed in sophisticated clothing located at the bar examining you from afar, asking the bartenders who you were but they were too busy to give them the slightest bit of information.
the music began to fade in your ears, sending you into a deep void of your own thoughts.
many nights, repetitive nights. every day became exhausting as you got used to the smell of booze, weed, and of course sex.
every man that walked in was either drunk off of drugs or alcohol. always stumbling on their words, couldn’t keep their composure up, bathed in the stench of weed or couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. they always tried to make conversation but you weren’t interested. you’re just here for the money.
the club was pretty packed on most days. being located downtown was one of the perks of why business was booming. everyday was always an experience. missing shoes, socks, jewelry, even panties were scattered along the floor, left to rot like it was its purpose. many women dressed up in short skirts — short enough that it could pass up as a belt, paired with thin layers of fabric that clinged onto the curves of their body that barely covered half of what was meant to be hidden. but you can’t lie, they always looked really good.
as for the men, they were nothing special. all of them always had the same intention every time they came to the club — sex.
their gazes linger for mere seconds at women who were on the dance floor, stealing glances as their bodies would sway to the rhythm of the music while their clothes would betray them as the fabric slowly rode up revealing the curvature of their frames.
as a result, boners were present through their pants like a horny teenager seeing a sexy model dressed up in skimpy clothes through a playboy magazine. they didn’t care if the majority of these women had boyfriends; their minds were drunk off of getting pleasured. many of them trace their eyes in places they shouldn’t be looking while the sounds of catcalling can be heard from a distance as they admire the view in front of them.
and it wouldn’t be a club if you didn’t see make out sessions near the bathroom stalls. the sounds of moaning reverberated through the dim walls while the music was pounding in every part of the club.
to you, this was nothing special. everyday became pretty boring.
until today.
“that was quite the performance I must say.” a voice ringing through your ears. a voice that you recognize. your coworker, mia. the one who smiled everytime she came to work, the one who always supported you on the sidelines, the way her eyes sparkled every time she saw you, the one who you can call your friend.
“well I’m glad it's over with. i’m ready to go home.” you say with an exasperated tone as she offered you a robe. you gently grab it from her grasp as the cold air prickled onto your skin, making you shudder as you accepted her offer.
“aww c'mon, don’t you wanna stay and hang ouutttt..?” she delivers with a whiny tone, her face plastered with a pouty expression as she watches you wrap the robe around your body with ease.
“no, and my shift is almost over. why don’t we hang out another time.” you try to let her down easy as you both walk down the hallway, trying to get to your dressing room.
“ugh fineeee — you promise?” she rolls her eyes as she awaits for an answer, stopping halfway through the hallway.
“promise.” you turned to her and smiled as you agreed. you saw her off as her shift ended way later than yours.
the clacks of your heels bouncing off the walls like thunder on an eerie night. the hallway was dark, stretched like an endless loop — narrow, silent and disguised in the shadows. the only source of light came from the dying lightbulb that was at the far end. though your dressing room wasn’t far from the stage, it felt like it was a mile away from where you were.
the door opens with ease as you gently turn the knob to enter the room.
the loud treble of the music becomes muffled as the door closes shut behind you, only the bass vibrating against the surface.
you grab your backup clothes — shorts and cute black tube top that was draped over the back of your chair. before you start changing into more comfortable attire, you hear a faint knock from the door behind you.
“hey it’s me.” the voice coming from the other side of the door — muted and muffled.
it was your boss. oh god now what? you were already dreading whatever news he was about to give you.
“hm?” you hummed as you opened the door leaving a slight crack between both of you.
“i’ve got a favour to ask of you.” a pleading suggestion visible in his tone. “i know your shift just ended but, i got a request from someone that was called last minute”. he says as he pushes the door gently as he welcomes himself in without hesitation.
“ughh — seriously, you know that my shift just ended.” you said with an aggravated tone. “why can’t you send the other girls to do this?” you shift with your back rested against the door as it clicks shut behind you, barely audible from the muffled music playing in the background. arms crossed, covering the crack of your breasts.
“this person specifically requested you.” his voice, stern and composed. “look –- i know you’re drained out from the performance, but i’ll pay you extra if you agree to do this.”
you give it some thought before you utter a sound. the room filled with silence — thick and unnatural. you wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, but extra cash wouldn’t hurt.
“alright fine. but you owe me for this.” you scoff under your breath. you abandon your stance as you start making your way to your chair as your clothes were left draped over it.
“glad you agree. once you’re done here, go find mia, she’ll fill you in.” he strides over to the door, leaving you with privacy.
you look in the mirror, the tiredness seeping out from your face as you feel pressure from your eyelids trying to fight the grogginess.
“alright, let’s get this over with.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
the scent of booze vivid in the air. it was intoxicating. the midnight sky filtered through the windows, painting the club with a cool tone that stretched throughout the club. the breeze felt hot — suffocating, an eerie stillness that was unreadable, unspoken of.
jaehyun sits at one of the booths, his gaze lingering across the room. spotting puffs of smoke in the air — a foggy mist, surrounding the club with a blurry atmosphere. the club was pretty chill, the steady sounds of chatter and clinking glasses booming through the room. the overhead lights reflecting a starry night radiance over the crowd of people.
glances from women who looked at his direction as he sat at one of the booths, minding his own business. they bit their lips, twirled their hair as it tangled around their fingers, their gazes observing him from top to bottom — with looks that spoke unheavenly scenarios surfacing in their minds.
mumbles of faint whispers heard throughout the room. exotic dancers, whispering about how attractive he was. the club was slightly dimmed, shadows of silhouettes grew larger with each step, the sound of heels clacking — deep and rich, deliberately echoing across the polished floor as it drew closer to him. pretending to drop something on the floor, erotically bending over, in hopes that his eyes would glance at them to be acknowledged or noticed.
he gives them a heart warming smile. dimples that accentuates deep into his skin, eyes crinkled with warmth and joy — pure innocence behind that smile.
it was no use.
he wasn’t interested at all.
now playing: ♫
the lights dim, contrasted with a subtle red tint. all dancers on poles exit from their own stages. the music gradually fades, softly turning up as the next song begins to play. all gazes shifted to the center stage — including his own.
there you were.
your presence captured many, mesmerized by the view in front of them like an angel sent from the heavens. clothed in pendants, clinging as your body moves fluidly like water, rippling as the pendants match to your hypnotic rhythm. your body covered in glitter, gleaming under the moonlit glow, radiating from the lighting as they paint you with a soft moonshine imprinted on your porcelain skin, making you the spotlight.
your hips swayed with the flow of the music. the bass, low and seductive, emerging through the room like smoke. your figure moved with it — slow, calculated and with purpose. fingertips tracing the sides of your body, highlighting the curves little by little. hips rolling slow and flirtatious as the song was playing.
you smiled as people were watching you with precision, observing you as you danced. you put on a smile, trying to seduce the crowd with your charm. until your eyes landed on one.
your eyes immediately latched onto his. your irises burning into his as you continue with your performance. he was cute. his gaze on you felt electric, with a hint of mischief. you feel your heart swell on your chest, pounding at an unsteady pace with overwhelmness – you were losing focus. you lift your gaze off of him, letting the intensity of the moment linger. and you continue on.
jaehyun’s gaze examined every inch of you. craved with desire. he took his time, taking in the view in front of him. the way your outfit hugged you in all the right places: your hips, waist, and chest. did you have a boyfriend? who is the lucky guy that gets to have you in his life everyday? does he know that he is dating a literal fucking angel? fuck.
a waiter appears into his vision, serving drinks as the performance continues. “would you care for one?” he says as he extends the tray to him.
jaehyun nods as he takes the drink from the tray.
before the waiter leaves to serve drinks to other customers. he calls out.
“hey, so who is that on stage?” he says with curiosity, never taking his eyes off of you.
the waiter leans closer to him, bending slightly to give a clear answer.
“oh! that's y/n. one of our best dancers, she’s pretty incredible….” he pauses with a look of admiration i’m guessing she caught your attention as well, i presume?”
“y -yeah….” his eyes focused on you.
“well if you want to get a one on one time, we offer quality time with one of the dancers in our private booths located near the bar.” he points to him in the direction of the booths. “the person in charge will gladly help you for more information. the girl with the ponytail, her name is mia, she’ll help you out.” he says with a smile on his face.
“alright thank you.” he nods as the waiter leaves.
shit. you were gorgeous.
he needed to have you tonight.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
you just wanted to go home. you were tired, grumpy but the universe said no. you stride to the private booth. all eyes, observing you with a devouring stare, focusing on you — only you.
you spot mia in the distance. and she spots you.
“heyyy girl, heard you got held back.”
“yeah….., some guy requested me at the last minute — great timing.” you try to shrug it off, but, inside you’re bothered by it. “boss told me that you know where he is?”
“yeah he should be standing around here somewhere………oh!, right there! he’s the one in the white shirt.” she points it out to you.
you glance at the direction of where she was pointing. he leans against the wall, phone in hand, covering the majority of his face. the illumination faded, casting the room in a soft, intimate moonlight glow, making it hard to see what he looked like but you did not care.
you make your way to his direction, wanting to get this over with. “alright, so you requested me?” you say with an exasperated tone.
he perks up from the sudden voice, he puts his phone away to see who was in front of him. it was you.
he utters a sound, only for it to be cut off by you. “yea-”
“alright, i’m going to assume it’s your first time here so i’ll go over the rules: the session is only an hour, there is no kissing, videotaping, touching and definitely no sex. got it?” you state as you lifted your head up to see if he was listening.
“got it.” he says to you, giving a light hearted smile.
it was the guy from before. only from a quick glance, you’d assume he was decent looking but no. this man was attractive, like really attractive. he was tall, taller than you imagined, his presence was intimidating, making the entire club feel like a blur as you look at him. he had a slim physique; his build was visible through his shirt, abs peeking through like he wasn’t trying to show off — he was just well built. his arms were well toned, his skin looked fair and smooth under the faint lighting, his veins visible as they ran down his forearm. he looked effortlessly pretty. your breath hitches, you doze off, not aware of your surroundings. shit, did the air feel hot or was your body hot? you didn’t know which.
“you okay?” he says with worry, as his face expresses concern.
your voice gets caught in your throat, trying to keep your reaction hidden. “y-yeah just got caught off guard, i mean, you’re…..you’re not exactly what i expected.” you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure but your cheeks are flushed and your body feels hot. you’re about to explode.
he chuckles softly, a sound that sends waves throughout your body. “and what exactly did you expect?” he asks, his eyes sparked with amusement and a smirk that hints something intense.
you hesitate, trying to compose the right words. “i don’t know, someone less captivating…..” you admit, shyness is visible in your voice. “you’re just — different.”
his expression softens, he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His presence, suffocating and overwhelming. “is that so…?” his voice, smooth, velvety and soothing to the ears. “you’re not so bad yourself, I'll admit.” he says as he stares at you with a look so — ravenous. “every curve, every breath, every angle, every step you take…..you’re mesmerizing.”
“oh?” you said with a teasing tone. “did my performance make you lose your words?” you look up at him seductively, your voice barely a whisper. “or perhaps did I make you want to explore places you’re dying to touch..?”
you were so close. a slight move, your lips would be touching.
nothing. no response. the answer he gave was his eyes trailing to your lips and then back on yours. he was so lost in them, couldn’t even form a sentence.
feeling satisfied, you slowly back away, leaving him craving more. you gesture to him to follow you by motioning your finger, turning your back as it faces him.
a chill runs down your spine as you feel him following, putting distance between both of you. you felt nervous, his presence imprinted a daunting feeling that left an itch on your body that you couldn’t get rid of.
scanning you, deliberate and lustful. the dips of your back — smooth like porcelain, the way your hips sway as you walk; the fabric motioned to your every move. you were so gorgeous
eyes lingering lower and lower in places that shouldn’t be looked at. it was shameful.
but he couldn’t wait. not even for a minute.
the booth had a deafening silence. the stillness in the room made the intensity between both of you — hot, dazed and disoriented. the door clicks shut behind him, automatically locking you both inside. you slowly turn up the music, not too loud but subtle.
he sits across from you, legs spread, arms stretched across the couch’s edge as he stares at you like a wolf stalking its prey. a teasing grin tugged on his lips as it sent goosebumps along your body.
his eyes never leave yours as you slowly make your way to him. you feel your heart thudding in your chest. each step felt heavy as you drew closer, the tension increasing inch by inch.
you stand in front of him, your hands gently clutching onto his shoulders, the soft touch of your delicate hands felt like a caress. you ease yourself onto his lap, gyrating your hips along his crotch — slow and enticing. you could feel him getting hard against you, the tip of his cock grazing between the inside of your thighs. a slight gasp leaves your lips as it’s poking between your legs, begging to be inside you.
you gaze at him — slow and seductive as he does the same. eyes shamelessly lingering along your body, absorbing every inch of you. he bites his lower lip as the thought of you pleasing him, makes him go feral.
jaw clenching, hands tightening into fists as the sensation was too much to bear. his head felt lightheaded, the tips of ears — tinted with a delicate blush, biting hard on his bottom lip like it was going to bleed from the pressure. he wanted to touch you so bad, restraining himself as he didn’t want to overstep the rules. but it was torturous.
"fuck…..” he muttered, voice low, dripping with arousal. “you’re so sexy…”
the warmth of your body against his made your stomach tingle with excitement. his gaze alone, made your pussy throb with hunger, awakening every fiber of your being — aching with a need for his touch. your breath hitched as his eyes traced the curves, leaving a trail of need, desperation in his stare. you could feel the dampness growing, a silent plea for the relief only he could provide.
every client you’ve had never made you feel like this before. this man had such an impact on you and he was a complete stranger. you didn’t know his name or anything — he could be a creepy guy with unknown intentions. but you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to touch you, in places that you wouldn’t let others touch.
you regret telling him that he couldn’t touch you. in all honesty, you wanted him to use you. fuck company policy, fuck the rules!
before he could process a thought, before he could process a breath, your hands are placed on both of his cheeks — gentle, firm and kind of nice to this touch. your lips crash against his. it catches his breath; uneven with each inhale he takes. he gasps in between each kiss, hands gently gripping your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss becomes sloppier, rough and demanding.
the world spun around you, feeling dizzy from the sensation. his lips trails light kisses down to your chin, neck and along your collarbone. each peck leaving a tingling feeling, a whisper of desire, an anticipation of what’s more to come.
“you taste so sweet baby…..” he mumbles against your skin, his voice, low and teasing.
your skin was so delicate, the feeling of silk in his hands — soft to the touch. he could hear your heartbeat thumping rapidly as his mouth grazed your skin. you smelled sweet, a creamy aroma resembling a warm embrace. he bites your skin leaving indented marks along your collarbone. your parted lips, your chest rising up and down and the way your body shudders against his own, sends shivers down your spine as he continues to pleasure you.
his hands clamp around your waist, gripping you firmly as he grinds his hips into you, his hardness drawing a sharp gasp to escape.
the clothes draw a barrier between you two, the tension immensely getting hotter with each passing second. a revelation yearning to be unveiled, waiting to be unraveled.
his hands roam lower until he reaches your shorts. he grabs the hem and slowly pulls them down, revealing your panties. you were soaked, a wet spot formed through the thin fabric.
he peels off your panties — gradually yet effortlessly while his lips are still on yours. your pussy, exposed to the cold air causing you to shudder in response. he pulls away, spitting on his middle finger and ring finger. he gently massages your pussy with circular motions, his fingers dripping with your arousal. “shit baby you’re so wet..” he curses under his breath. you whimper as his fingers gently caress your sensitive parts.
without hesitation, he inserts his fingers deep into your hole, your pussy gripping his fingers so tight. shit, the grip you had on his fingers was practically sucking him in, so deep. curling his fingers, tickling your sensitive spots, pumping in and out of you — the sounds of your pussy and your moans overlapping as it bounces across the room. “f-fuck…..mmmph!” you bite your bottom lip, teeth sinking into the flesh as you can feel the climax arriving. your hands trembling as you gripped on his shirt for support but your body felt weak to the sensation. he was making you feel so good.
“are you getting close, baby?” his voice, laced with hunger. you nod in response, lost in the pleasure to form a sentence. he smirks at the sight of you, he’s created such a mess of you and it wasn’t even his own dick. how will you take his dick if you couldn’t take his fingers?
he increases his pace, your moans becoming louder. the pressure was too much, your body was trembling against him, you couldn’t control it. “s-shit…i-i”m gonna come!” your eyes clenched shut, voice hoarse.
his fingers were drenched with your cum, glistening as ropes of it coat all over. his lips were coated with your hot slick as he barely brushes his fingers over it. his tongue slowly sticks out, licking his fingers as he savours your flavour.
you try to catch your breath, calming down your chest from heaving. until he flips you over, your ass aligned with his crotch.
“eek!” you shriek at the sudden movement.
you hear the sounds of shuffling as he removes his pants —the sound of him taking off his shirt . his belt clinks against the metal, the sharp sound indicates a realization. he was about to fuck you.
the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, caressing your sweet hole with such ease. he grips your waist with a strong hold, positioning you as he takes one hand and aligns it with your entrance. your cum coating the tip of his dick as he slowly inserts it in.
“mmph..!” you gasp, your eyes widened. “fuuuucckkkk……” he dragged out, slowly pumping in and out of you before the pace started to increase rapidly. the grip he had on you was deadly, nails digging into the meat of your skin as the sounds of your pussy, squelching and sloshing against his dick. “baby y-you’re milking me so good..” the sounds of skin to skin contact started to get louder with each second, his grip on your waist moved to your neck, making his dick plunge deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot. “y-you’re f-ffucking me so g-good..” broken moans escape you with each thrust plunging you so good. his swollen dick was swallowing your gummy walls as your tight cunt was squeezing him so tight. “baby y–you gotta loosen up..” he swallowed thickly.
your hands gripped the fat of the couch for support, trying to form a sentence. “haah — you’re too big —”
his eyes darkened at your words, and his pace was brutal.
your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans pouring from your lips as he thrusted into you at such an animalistic pace.
the sounds of you and him were bouncing all over the walls as you both were lost in the pleasure. your lips formed in a line, trying to suppress your moans but he was fucking you so good.
“s-slow down!” you whined out, his dick abusing the fuck out of your cervix, showing no mercy. mmf — sorry baby i c–can’t— not when i have you like this.”
jaehyun tried to keep his voice down but the way your tight greedy pussy was milking his dick was too addicting. he felt his climax arriving with each thrust he jams into you, his whole body tensing as the feeling of the climax was what he needed. he wanted to fuck you ever since he saw you on the stage and he was not going to waste this opportunity. always got to finish what you started.
“b–baby I’m getting close, m’gonna pull out—” he muttered.
you shook your head, putting your hand on his back to keep him inside. “no, just cum i-inside me.”
he swallowed the lump in his throat. did he hear that right? holy shit. “i-inside…is that —”
“f–fuck, please c–cum inside me.” your voice, broken and hoarse.
score.
jaehyun groaned at the thought. you grabbed onto the couch for dear life as he shoots his cum inside of you, bucket loads of it fill you up to the brim — it felt endless. you ride out your orgasm, feeling every little bit wash over you.
he gently eased off of you slowly, pulling his dick out with care. his seed was overflowing, dripping down along your thighs. your skin felt sticky and hot like honey, sweat beading along your forehead as strands of your hair latched onto your skin. the sweat made your skin glow from the soft lightning. your breathing slowly regained to normal as he plopped himself onto the couch also trying to catch his breath. the tension was still thick in the air, “you know, i never catched your name.” you tried to wear off the awkwardness. “jaehyun.” he stares at you as he catches his breath.
the name rolls on your tongue, “jaehyun.” you say softly. this is definitely not the last time you’re both seeing each other.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
ubedolls' notes ⭑.ᐟ hey guys, wrote another fic idea! sorry it took so long. we're sorry to those who can't see the text that much but we gotta keep it pretty. kept overthinking too much while writing but hope y'all enjoy this!
summary: A sizzling summer of sexy singles and the search for love awaits you in Fiji! You’re nervous, excited, and— confused? Why is your ex-boyfriend’s best friend, Jaehyun, here? And why are you starting to second guess your rekindled friendship?
word count: 3.2k
a/n: this is just the beginning of this little storylne! In case you wonder what villa layout I'm using, I'm going based on the USA villa (#brinity4ever) Enjoy and if you want to get a read on the rest of 127's time in the villa, check it out here!
dividers from diviniyae and robinavitchslut
"Hello, Islanders! I heard there was a party going on!" You shout, lifting a bottle of champagne with a loud whoop.
This is it, the moment you never thought would come. Countless months of interviewing and emails with producers, weeks of being locked up in a hotel room, and a history of bad boyfriends have led you to this moment. An opportunity that not many can say they've had, but now you can.
The table surrounded by your now fellow islanders goes from frozen looks of shock to loud cheers, making you smile as you begin your stride toward the table. The nerves you felt just a few minutes ago have thankfully turned into excitement and confidence. And why not? You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, dressed to the nines and done up like a model as you strut toward the approaching group.
There's too many people that greet you in quick succession for you to get a good look at everyone's faces or to fully catch any names. Somewhere in the hurried introduction, a name and a flash of a familiar face catches a memory in the back of your mind. You don't get a chance to focus on it as the next person approaches you with a hug and a smile. Luckily, you're soon sitting around the fire pit with a cold flute of champagne in your hand and a clear view of everyone's face from your seat on the far edge of the sofa.
You're mindful of your body language, exuding confidence with perfect posture, a bright smile, and casual tosses of your hair over your shoulder while everyone goes down the line to introduce themselves.
You lift you glass to your lips just as the last guy sits forward and immediately you choke, curling forward as you croak out, "Jaehyun?!"
"Do you two know each other?" One of the girls, Bella, you learned her name was, asks, her head swiveling between the two of you.
You nod, clearing your throat, "he's best friends with my ex."
"Was," Jaehyun quickly corrects, cheeks rosy, "we're not friends anymore."
One of the guys, Sam, speaks up, "whoa, what happened there?"
"Jaehyun was the one that told me I got cheated on," you reply, hoping it comes off as nonchalant and not hurt. Lord knows your ex has done enough damage to your self-esteem, you don't need his mess to affect you in the villa too.
Murmurs erupt around the group, a mix of surprise and consolation. You shrug it off, answering questions that the islanders toss your way. You go through the usual spiel of your age, job, where you're from, last relationship, and length of said relationship.
"Wait, what's your type?" One of the guys, Leo, asks.
You hum thoughtfully, "I don't really have a type physically. I think I prefer a guy who is silly and makes me laugh, kind, good values, loyal, a gentleman, and respectful. In any sort of connection I just prefer to build a friendship before focusing on the romantic aspect."
Another guy, Ben, smacks Jaehyun on the back with a smirk, "you have an in, dude!"
You're quick to dispute any romantic interest in Jaehyun before the girls pull you for a chat. The girls break down the current couples of the house but reassure you that no one is closed off quite yet. Everyone is still feeling each other out and obviously the partnerships were based on initial physical attraction, though some girls seem more eager to close things off than others.
You all chat for a while, giving each other your worst date stories before you hear a throat clear behind you. "I was sent to call you over for your boys chat," Jaehyun states awkwardly as he tucks his hands into his pockets.
You laugh softly, taking his extended hand as you step down from the platform and bid the girls goodbye. "Funny seeing you here," you tease with a gentle nudge of your elbow.
"Of all the places on earth," Jaehyun chuckles in agreement.
The conversation with the guys goes almost identically to you conversation with the girls, but it's so obvious that some of the guys are laying the flirtation on thick. One day in the villa and they're already thirsting for the next piece of meat on legs. You wonder if they're actually here to find love or have fun. Despite that, you accept all their compliments, absorb all the information they're giving you, and even let Tony give you a tour of the villa.
Tony is nice, handsome and definitely confident. He walks you through the villa, showing you through each area. "And here we have the bedroom," he tells you with a dramatic wave of his hand, "this is mine and Mei's bed, but it can be you and I's if you play your cards right."
Somewhere on the tour of the second floor, one of the couples, Sam and Luna, join you before you all end up on the last stop, the kitchen. You're not sure how much time has passed, but you're both exhausted and happy to snack on chips while you make conversation with everyone around you.
When bedtime is finally called, you're grateful to be in a fresh room, clean faced, and in a soft bed. You settle beneath the covers and sigh happily. The first day is done, you survived and everyone seems nice. The apprehension you felt just a few hours ago is long gone, and you're relieved to have been welcomed warmly.
Over the course of the next couple days, you make your way around the villa, getting a feel of every guy, well, almost every guy. You're polite with Jaehyun but also hyper aware of how odd the situation is. You never felt romantic feelings for him when you hung out before coming on the show, so why would those feelings be there now? He was handsome, sure, that was undeniable, but why put forth effort for something you already know isn't there?
You've spent most of your few days in the villa getting to know the rest of the guys, feeling out potential vibes and connections. No one has fully blown you away, but you know you're looking to build a solid foundation of friendship before diving headfirst into romance.
Tony almost immediately took himself out of the running with his joke on night one and the fact that he is hardly subtle about keeping his gaze on your face and not your chest when he pulls you for conversations. The other girls have shared their same experiences, so it's pretty clear Tony is just there for a summer of exploring rather than actual love. He also seems incapable of talking about anything but his gym routine, his meal prepping, and his muscles. Conversations with him never seem short enough.
Thankfully, the other conversations go semi-better. Sam manages to sneak Luna into every conversation you two have which makes you melt. In the course of the week, you find yourself even giving him advice on how to woo Luna, you already love them together so you won't be stepping on any toes there. Ben is also nice, he's funny, but tells you after just a couple conversations that he's not feeling any romantic chemistry with you. You can't fault him for his feelings and you appreciate his honesty. All signs lead you back to Leo.
Leo has been nice. You both have a decent amount in common and he's very keen to get to know you, constantly pulling you for chats that always end with you clutching your stomach with laughter. As fun as the conversation are though, nothing clicks right away. There have been no sparks, but you force that self-sabotaging voice to shut up. Your journey will have to take some time, especially since you want to build a friendship first. You just have to take it all day by day.
At the end of the first week, in the middle of your conversation with Leo, your phone dings loudly. "I got a text!" You shout, jumping to stand up on the couch, "Islanders, tonight there will a recoupling, boy's choice. As bombshell, I will get the opportunity to have first pick of the boys."
The boys cheer excitedly and the girls eye each other nervously. You dance excitedly on the bench, stopping only when you hear a snort of laughter from the kitchen. You stop, a playful glare focused on Jaehyun, "I get first choice, Jae. If I were you, I'd be flirting my ass off instead of laughing at someone else's happiness."
"I'm not laughing at your happiness," he rolls his eyes playfully, "I'm laughing at those horrible dance moves."
Your jaw drops in mock offense as he shuffles away to a lounger to chat with his partner, Maya. You bid Leo goodbye as you seek out his current partner Jade to let her know where your head is at. You don't want it to be a shock to her and you certainly don't want to let your decision ruin the friendships you're already forming.
"You have nothing to worry about," Jade reassures you with a tight embrace, "I know you're not in the best spot, coming in as a bombshell and having to steal a guy. I really appreciate you letting me know though."
You let out a long exhale, slumping back against the swing seat while wiping fake sweat from your brow, "you're the best. Seriously."
Just a few hours later, when the sun has set and the cool sea breeze has begun to blow, Ariana, the host, struts toward the fire pit where you're all waiting anxiously. She smiles at you all making small talk about your experiences so far before she instructs the rest of the girls to stand in front of the fire pit and calls your name, "as the bombshell, the first choice of the first recoupling is yours. Who would you like to couple up with?"
You exhale softly, wringing your hands together as you stare ahead nervously over the flames of the fire, "I want to couple up with this person, because he's been super nice and we have good conversations. It's early days, but I think we're on the right track to building what could be a great relationship."
"So the guy I would like to couple up with is…" you pause, "Leo."
Leo beams as the islanders around you clap and cheer. He keeps an arm around you as the rest of the villa goes through the recoupling. You're hardly able to focus as your heart returns to it's normal heart rate after the anxiety of making a speech and choosing your first partner.
"Jade, as the only girl not in a couple, you are now single and vulnerable," Ariana recites, making your stomach lurch with guilt, "but you're journey isn't over yet. Get your flirt on, make some connections, and I'll see you all soon."
The tension lifts at Ariana's words immediately. You give a casual pat to Leo's thigh before crossing the deck to hug Jade and apologize once more for leaving her single. She waves you off, jokingly telling you that now she has the upper hand to get first dibs on the next bombshell to enter.
The next day, you find yourself refilling your water bottle when someone clears their throat harshly behind you. You jump at the startling sound and turn to find Jaehyun standing there with an amused smirk, "can I pull you?"
You nod, taking a sip of water before following him up the stairs to a sunken daybed that's been named with neon lights, 'Soul Ties', "don't make a habit of scaring me as your greeting."
He holds out a hand to help you down the steps before you settle into the pillows with a hum, ignoring the unexpected spark of warmth at his touch. Jaehyun extends his arms on the edge of the bed, stretching his legs out before he turns his gaze to you, "so I noticed you've been avoiding me."
You cough, cheeks hot at his bluntness, "I would hardly call it avoiding. I'm being polite, getting to know everyone, taking advantage of getting to know new people and all that."
"You've had a conversation with every guy but me since you got here. Hell, you're even talking to Tony more than me and I know he doesn't make eye contact. Yeah, you have been polite, but you've been super…" he trails off.
"Charming, beautiful, and amazing?" You offer with a smile.
"Awkward." He corrects with a straight face, "Look, I know the last time we saw each other wasn't the best time, but we were friends. We can still be friendly here. I don't want you to feel awkward around me or feel like you have to avoid me because I was the cause of your last relationship ending."
"No way!" You quickly interrupt, reaching out to place a comforting hand over his own, "my last relationship ended because of his shitty actions. You were the messenger of the unfortunate news but I don't fault you for anything. You were incredibly brave and kind to tell me that. I'm really sorry I've been weird around you. I don't want to ruin your experience here or make you feel like you can't talk to me either. You're right, we can be friends again. It's actually really nice to have someone from home here."
"It is nice," he agrees with a soft smile before letting out an exhale of relief, "How's your mom?"
Your brows furrow in confusion as you reel back, "you remember my mom? When did you guys even meet?"
"One time I had to drop you off at home when you got too drunk. You told me your parents' place was closer so I took you there. Nice lady," he explains simply. From there, it's easy to get lost in conversation. You both reminisce on your time before the villa before any drama even went down for hours, hardly even noticing the sun slowly sinking on the horizon.
In the midst of your laughter, a pair of slapping sandals draws your attention toward Maya, Jaehyun's partner who stands with her arms crossed and a smile that looks sweet at first, but the longer you look up at her, the more irritation you see. "You guys have been up here all day! I almost forgot you recoupled with Leo last night," she laughs brittly.
Jaehyun clears his throat as he stands, holding his hand out to help you up, but Maya's gaze burns, so you instead get up by yourself. "We were just catching up, we're old friends, remember?" he attempts to ease the tension.
"Right, friends. Glad to see two friends getting close. Let's go, Jae," Maya instructs, wrapping a hand around his wrist to drag him off before you can even get another word in.
The tension Maya brought with her makes your hair raise and want to get away as soon as possible. Still, you can vaguely make out Jaehyun's voice telling her, "I'd actually prefer if you called me Jaehyun."
You amble down the stairs with your brows pinched, walking across the lawn toward Jade who sits on a lounger beside Leo on pool deck. Leo perks up, patting the spot at the end of his chair for you to take a seat, "hey there!"
"What's with that look?" Jade snorts.
Your gaze is drawn back up to the second floor, where Jaehyun and Maya sit outside the beauty room in a conversation of their own. "I just had the strangest interaction with Maya, like she was mad I was talking to Jaehyun, who I've already said is just a friend, or something," you mumble as you set your water bottle down.
"Oh shit!" Leo laughs as he sits up, "I thought you were avoiding him because the girls had already given you the full rundown. Maya is… she's intense."
"Intense how?" You ask slowly.
"She waltzed in on night one and refused to actually take part in the ice breaker challenge until she had conversations 'of substance' with each of us guys because she's not looking for a summer fling—" Leo explains before Jade cuts him off.
"She's here looking for a husband," Jade chuckles as she twists her hair up and clips it back, "she deemed Jaehyun the most husband-like of all the guys and has her claws sunk in him. It's only a week in so obviously he's still taking it slow. I think her before bed conversation is how many kids she wants."
"Sheesh," you wince, "she does sound intense."
Leo runs his hands through his hair with an amused smile, "beside that, you had a good conversation though?"
"Yeah, no more weird vibes," you confirm before playfully narrowing your gaze between your two fellow islanders and a lazy point between them, "reigniting sparks here?"
"We were actually planning a threesome between the three of us," Jade quickly responds.
You tense, blinking blanky at her. Leo reaches over to smack her arm as he begins to cackle, Jade joins and you slump down in relief, joining in on the laughter. You wipe tears away from the corners of your eyes, "I think the two of you are going to be a problem for me."
Jade shrugs with a bright smile, "you'll learn to love it."
That night, after avoiding Maya and her harsh glare, you jump onto your bed and pull the covers over your legs. Leo is on the far side of the room practicing some kind of handshake with Ben. Jaehyun flops onto his back on the bed beside your own, his microphone discarded on the bedside table between your beds. Being in the bed beside Jaehyun and Maya never felt weird before, but now it does. You're overtly conscious of your actions as you keep your gaze low and pull off your microphone, winding the cord neatly.
"Hey," you hear Jaehyun say.
You peek over at him from the corner of your eye, feeling your cheeks heat at the sight of him. His hair is messy and damp from his shower and chest bare and tanned from a week in the sun. He looks unbelievably comfortable in his pajama pants but also unbelievably handsome with his glasses on. You don't trust your voice and instead arch your brow at him in response.
"Do you still like vanilla lattes?" He asks as he turns on his side to face you.
"Yes…"
"Awesome, I'll whip one up for you in the morning."
You don't even get the chance to dissuade him when the rest of the girls come pouring into the room. You instead lay down, turning to face Jade now in her own bed on the opposite side to make conversation before Leo comes to bed.
You're nearly asleep, Leo is knocked out beside you as you turn away from your partner to find a more comfortable position, when you hear a soft whisper of your name. You open your eyes, gaze unfocused for a second before you see the soft wave of Jaehyun's hand, "good night."
You pull the covers higher to conceal your smile before whispering, "good night, Jae."
a/n: There's plenty more to come including growing closer, the challenge with the kiss, and more ~tension~!!!! feedback is encouraged and appreciated <3
summary , bf!jeong jaehyun has stabbed you in the back a million times….by shaving his happy trail :>
notes , this is so silly sorry lolol
you didn’t even notice it when he fell back onto the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up most of the space, arms stretching out over the pillows. its only until he watches you balance on the edge of the coffee table, teetering on the edge, tiptoeing to try and reach the flickering light bulb thats been annoying you for the past week that he stands up again, wrapping his fingers around your waist to keep you steady. he lets out a small laugh and your brows furrow, scowling at him from above. “you do this then.” your lips press together into a pout, pushing his shoulders gently.
he takes the lightbulb from your hands, a small smile on his lips, arms coming up to unscrew the faulty lightbulb, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his midriff that you take a step back just to glance down at.
“what the hell?”
his eyes run down to your frame, your tense shoulders and wide eyes that depict a shock on your face that he has never quite seen before. you could fall down to your knees, face planted against the ground in pure agony. jaehyun almost looks a little worried.
”what’s wrong?”
”what…have you done.” you yelp, hands reaching for the bottom of his shirt, fingers curling around it to pull it up a little more. finally seeing the smooth skin of his lower midriff, a small sob escapes your mouth and jaehyun can’t stop his lips from curling up into a small smile. he doesn’t even try to stop you when your hands pull down at the waistband of his boxers, running a soft fingertip down the line where his happy trail used to be, in all it’s glory, all for you to admire.
gently, he pats the top of your head with a splayed out hand, fingers coming to ruffle strands of your hair. he doesn’t get it, but he’ll comfort you anyway.
you pull your hands out of his pants, stepping off the coffee table and throwing yourself back on the couch, pinching your nose bridge in genuine stress. “who did this to you?” you murmur, looking up at jaehyun, eyes narrowing. jaehyun thinks you are being awfully dramatic, he cant suppress the genuine chuckle that leaves his mouth, bending down to run a hand down your side, trying to ease the situation, “it was for a shoot.”
you let out another wince, squeezing your eyes shut. this might be the worst thing that has happened to you—ever. your boyfriend, unaware of how much this is affecting you, sits beside you, lifting your legs up to rest them on his lap, caressing his hands up and down them with a light touch. “it’ll grow back.” he scoffs. he can’t tell whether you’re being serious…he didn’t know you liked his happy trail this much.
his hands reach out to your waist, pulling your limp, defeated body up into his lap, cupping your cheeks. all he can do is press tender kisses to the corners of your frowning mouth, finding it terribly cute, trying to hide his smile as you whine against his skin, “bring it back…” your words are muffled against him and he hums against your lips, continuing to shower your parted mouth with small pecks.
“give me a couple weeks.” jaehyun chirps, finding his heart a little warmed, in an oddly affectionate way. you glance down, hands reaching to lift his shirt up once more, just to make sure it’s really gone while his hands rub up and down your thighs.
“i’ll make it up to you until then. i promise.” he croons, and the effort you have put into dragging the corners of your lips down is all for nothing. the betrayal you’re feeling dissipating into giddiness as jaehyun’s hands lay you down over the couch cushions, the palms of his hands cupped around your knees, hovering above you with an amused, dimpled smile on his 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. ;)
