warnings: mdni, 18+, soft! svt, in love! svt, etc.
wc: 1.7k+
Seungcheol - Seungcheol sleeps on his back most of the time, usually with an unopened book in the middle of his chest, and one hand displayed over his stomach. His lips are parted, his eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as his fluffy hair sweeps over his forehead in the middle.
He also usually has you pressed against his side, with your leg hooked over one of his, while his free arm serves as your pillow. He likes you flushed against him, both of you sharing body heat with a blanket coming up to his waist.
He claims he can't fall asleep any other way. When you try to move, he moves, following you like a moth to the flame. And if you try to leave? His eyes squint open, a familiar pout forming on his lips, ready to ask, " Where do you think you're going?"
Jeonghan - Jeonghan doesn't let go of your hand when he falls asleep. His fingers are interlocked with yours, holding you softly but firmly as you two face each other.
In the dark, he whispers sleepily, asking you to tell him about your day, your plans, to tell him everything he missed when he was away from you for work. His thumb caresses your knuckles while you talk, rubbing softly and other times, pulling your hand to him so he can place a kiss over your fingers.
Eventually, he'll get too tired, and he'll pull both your hands to his chest. He keeps both of your hands right over his heart, letting you feel his heart beat steadily as you speak, his eyes fluttering close as he listens.
Joshua - Joshua sleeps with his hand up your shirt.
His chest is pressed into your back, his arm slung over your waist as his hand cups your breast under the oversized t-shirt you wear to bed. It used to be his, but now you've claimed it as yours, finding comfort in the worn shirt like it's a security blanket. And if you can't wear it, laundry day takes your favorite shirt from you, you'll easily demand Joshua to take the one he wears right now off for you.
When he does what you've asked without hesitation, it never fails to make you grin, warmed by his shirt and his gesture. You're wrapped up in the scent of soft florals and something distinctly him. It makes him hold you closer, his head lowered onto the back of your shoulder as he curls around you, happy to go to sleep with you smiling sleepily because of him.
Jun - Jun falls asleep in whatever position you find comfortable. And that's even true regardless of whether he finds it comfortable too.
The moment you're cuddling into him, on top of him, behind him - he's not moving an inch. He would never dare disturb you the moment you melt into him, your cute face nuzzling into his arms, his chest, or his back until your breaths deepen and you're fast asleep.
He'll find a way to fall asleep, however you found him. Finding peace in your touch, even if it means his neck, his arm, his back, might be sore the following morning.
It's worth it, and he does it again each night you find your way to him.
Soonyoung - Soonyoung curves around your body when he sleeps. He's pulling you into his chest, your back against his front as he wraps around you.
His lips will barely brush the back of your neck, his nose nuzzling the curve of your neck as he sighs happily. With you in his arms, he can finally relax. Letting go of long days of work, muscles melting as his legs tangle with yours.
He sleepily tells you about his day like it's a bedtime story, words slurring towards the end, his lips imprinting the story against your skin before he finally exhales a long breath.
Then it's quiet, the even, deep breaths he huffs in his sleep lulling you to follow in his footsteps as he holds you close.
Wonwoo - Wonwoo sleeps on his side with his back facing you.
He doesn't mean to, it's just how it ends up going when he falls deeper asleep after you two cuddle. But it's okay, you actually prefer it because then it allows you to cuddle him from behind.
Your arms will wrap around his waist, and even in his sleep, his hand finds yours, interlocking your fingers as you press flush against him.
You can't explain it, but nothing feels better when you can hide behind Wonwoo's broad back, your face pressing into smooth skin after placing a quick kiss to his shoulder blade.
Woozi - Woozi sleeps on his stomach, preferably in between your legs.
His head rests on your stomach, moving up and down each time you take a breath. His arms wrap under your waist and back, hugging you to him or, better yet, him to you.
It's like he's hugging his favorite stuffed animal when he was a child. And it's the perfect position to feel your fingers card through his hair, your nails scratching his head just right to make him almost purr like a cat in your lap.
He loves that he can lay his weight onto you, grounding both you and him as he drifts off to sleep, your fingers threaded in his hair as his cheek smushes into your sternum.
Minghao - Somehow, you fell asleep on either side of your shared bed.
Maybe it has to do with it being too hot. You two have no issue cuddling, but then it's too much, and you're both throwing the blankets off to cool off. But then it's too cold, and his hands pull you close, and then the cycle repeats.
It's like when you have to stick one foot out of the blanket to be the perfect temperature, but then have to worry about the sleep monsters getting you.
So, you two stay apart, facing each other as you go to bed. But it's okay, because by the time morning comes, you're exactly where you started- in his arms with the blankets twisted at your feet.
Mingyu - Mingyu needs you practically on top of him for him to go to sleep.
He uses you like a weighted blanket, pulling you half on top of him or even fully on top of him as he lies on his back. Your head gets tucked under his chin, his large hand resting on the middle part of your back, keeping you flush against him.
You can actually feel his muscles relax, a deep, satisfied sigh slipping from his lips as he keeps you on him. Your leg hooks over his hip, your other leg spreads out, while your arm wraps around his. It's like you're a koala bear and he's the tree with the way he wraps you around him.
And you wouldn't be lying if you said it's one of the comfiest positions you get to fall asleep in. Your cheek smushed into his chest as he holds you.
Dokyeom - Dokyeom ends up following you into your side of the bed when you two fall asleep.
He starts on his side of the bed, like normal, cuddling you until you roll onto your back subconsciously. Then he follows you. It ends up with him lying on his stomach, his feet on his side of the bed, with his upper body on you. His head is on your stomach, his arm wrapped around your leg.
Dokyeom sleeps diagonally, taking up all the space so he can wrap his arm around you like you're his personal pillow. He holds you like that, his head rising up and down with each breath you take, his cheek smushed into your tummy, his other hand tucked under your back. He traps you between the bed and him, refusing to let you go.
You'll literally have to wake him up for him to free you from his grasp.
Seungkwan - Seungkwan sleeps with a leg hooked over yours.
His face rests right above your chest, both of you sleeping on your sides as you face each other. His leg tangles over yours to keep you close while his arm extends upwards to comb through your hair softly, listening as you tell him about your day. His other hand sneaks up your shirt, tracing shapes into your back as he slowly melts into you.
He needs to have you surround him, to let him get tangled up with you until he doesn't know where you start and he ends. The comfort of being in your arms after his long day of work never fails to bring a happy sigh from his lips.
And it ends with him falling asleep with his fingers resting on your head while his face presses between your breasts, keeping you flushed against him.
Vernon - Vernon falls asleep tangled with you.
Your face is pressed into his chest, his arms are wrapped around your back, and you're both lying on your sides. One of his hands is tangled in your hair, holding the back of your head softly, while his other hand rests on the lower part of your back.
He falls asleep knowing you're listening to his heartbeat, the steady rhythm mixed with his fingers drawing mindless circles across your skin, making you fall asleep before he does.
And it's while his legs are tangled with yours, his lips curve into a sleepy smile, happily falling asleep knowing you're in his arms.
Dino - Dino drapes half of his weight onto you like a weighted blanket.
It doesn't matter if you're lying on your back, your side, or on your stomach because soon enough, his arm is slung over your body, and so is half of his upper body.
It's the best, you get all of his warmth and the feeling of his body melting into yours as he tucks his face into your neck.
Sometimes, he will mumble slurred, sleepy words against your skin. He tells you his dreams, his day, his future that involves you. Other times, he is so exhausted he just presses one long kiss into the curve of your neck that shapes your shoulder, hoping you understand how he loves you deeply.
hi r u doing smut fics? but anyways if u do pls make about how whc 2 characters would react if you give them a bj 🤭
anyways i luv ur whc fics keep it up thanks xoxo
weak hero class headcanons — going down on the boys of weak hero class 🔞
synopsis — how the boys of whc... well, anon’s ask is pretty self-explanatory
pairing/s — (all the whc boys here are in senior year/18+) sieun x reader, suho x reader, baku x reader, gotak x reader, juntae x reader, baekjin x reader, seongje x reader, beomseok x reader
a/n — >< everyone’s been waiting for something a bit more... out there for the whc boys, and since i rarely do smut, this was definitely a challenge !! i hope everyone has a fun time. disclaimer: this is pure smut, mdni. if you’re a minor in the taglist, don’t interact pls. i removed who i know are under 18, but might have missed some.
masterlist | join the taglist | request a fic
⤷ yeon sieun
he doesn’t say a word when you kneel, just watches you with that intense, unreadable stare. it’s not until your lips wrap around him that his breath hitches—barely audible, but sharp. his fingers curl into the arm of the couch, the only giveaway that he’s actually unraveling.
you go slow, wanting to see what kind of reactions you can pull from him. he swallows hard. his thigh twitches. then, finally, a sound—low and breathy: “don’t stop.” he doesn’t guide you. doesn’t push. but when his hand cups your jaw, there’s something raw in it—like he’s grounding himself with you. he finishes with a tight exhale, eyes fluttering shut, and when he comes back down, he murmurs, “come here,” like he’s desperate to hold you, to take back the control he just gave up.
⤷ ahn suho
he watches you kneel in front of him, his expression shifting from surprised to almost amused. “you sure about this, baby?” he asks, voice still calm, but you can hear the hint of anticipation beneath it.
but the moment your mouth wraps around him, his teasing demeanor fades. “f-fuck—wait—” his hand flies to your hair instinctively, not rough but firm, guiding you just the way he wants. his hips buck upward just a little as he tries to hold himself together, but it's clear he's losing it.
"shit, you feel so good," he groans, voice thick with need. “y-you’re gonna make me—” he cums with a sharp gasp, eyes fluttering shut, his grip tightening in your hair as he shudders. afterward, he pulls you up into his arms, kissing the top of your head with a soft laugh.
“you have no idea what you just did to me,” he whispers, his breath still unsteady, holding you close like he never wants to let go.
⤷ park humin (baku)
“oh my god, wait, wait—holy shit—” he’s already whining before you even start, half laughing, half panicking. you press your mouth to his length and he melts, one hand flying to his hair like he needs to pull it to stay conscious.
he talks through the whole thing—loud, flustered, ridiculous. “you’re so hot, oh my god, i can’t—babe, babe—your mouth is actually insane—” he keeps trying to look down at you, like he doesn’t want to miss a second. every time you suck a little harder, he moans like he’s being possessed.
“i’m gonna cum, oh fuck, i’m—ah, shit—” he whimpers, hand flying down to cover his mouth as you take all of him in. afterward, he lies flat on the bed, panting. “i literally saw god. was that even real? or did i hallucinate?”
⤷ go hyuntak (gotak)
he doesn’t say a word—just watches you silently, jaw clenched. when your lips wrap around him, he inhales sharply through his nose, gripping the edge of the couch so hard his knuckles go white. his voice comes out low and strained—“don’t tease. if you’re gonna do it, do it.” and when you take him deeper, a groan rumbles out of his chest—so deep it makes your thighs clench.
he doesn’t fuck your throat, doesn’t move much at all—but you can feel the tension in his body like a live wire. he cums with a stifled grunt, holding your head there as he spills down your throat. afterward, he leans back, breathing heavy, eyes glazed. “…fuck. that was something else.”
⤷ seo juntae
he looks like he might pass out when you kneel—eyes wide, hands flying up like he’s about to protest but forgets how. “w-wait, you don’t have to—i mean, if you want to, i’m not gonna stop you, but—” and then your mouth is on him and he chokes on a gasp. his hands hover awkwardly in the air for a second before he grips the blanket, knuckles white.
“ohmygod—th-that feels—” his voice is high, barely coherent, broken between moans and shaky breaths. you glance up and his face is flushed, lip caught between his teeth, eyes behind his glasses already watering. he cums with a whimper, hips bucking up with his thighs trembling, immediately covering his face. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to go that fast, i just—holy shit, you’re really good at that.”
⤷ na baekjin
he doesn’t speak when you kneel, but his expression changes—sharpening, almost curious. maybe a little hungry. he stays perfectly still as your mouth wraps around him, but his breathing falters, eyes darkening as he watched his length disappear against your lips, hand twitching once before it settles gently on your head. he groans—quiet but intense, jaw clenching every time your tongue swirls around him. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, hand tightening in your hair.
you feel his thighs tense under your touch, and his voice breaks when he tells you, “just like that.” his body shivering as you hollow your cheeks. he cums with a gasp, hips barely jerking, breath catching like he didn’t expect it to hit so fast. after, he helps you up, kisses you slow and deep, he touches your jaw gently and pulls you into his arms, forehead to yours and whispers, “thank you, darling.” like you just saved his life.
⤷ geum seongje
he smirks the moment you drop to your knees, eyes glinting with something dark. “damn, baby. didn’t think you had it in you.” but when your mouth sinks down on him, that smirk vanishes—replaced by a look that’s feral.
his hand fists your hair, not rough at first, but when you moan around him? he pulls—hard. “fuck—keep doing that,” he growls, “you look so good like this. fuck, you’re mine.” keeping you there as his hips twitch forward. he pulls—not to hurt you, but to keep you there, like he needs it. his other hand wraps around the back of your neck, firm and possessive, holding you close as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth.
“look at me,” he growls. “i said—look.” his pupils are blown wide, gaze locked on yours like you’ve got him under a spell. “you’re fucking perfect like this,” he pants. “mine. you get that? mine.”
“fuck, you’re gonna make me—” he cums with a sharp gasp, head tilting back as his muscles tighten, breath ragged. the moan he lets out is raw, needy, almost desperate—the kind that lingers in your ears long after.
and afterward, he yanks you into his lap, kissing you sloppily, breathing you in like he needs you to live. “don’t ever do that for anyone else,” he whispers against your lips, “i’ll lose my fucking mind.”
⤷ oh beomseok
he stares when you kneel in front of him—eyes wide behind his glasses, mouth slightly parted like he can’t believe what’s about to happen. “a-are you… really gonna—?” his voice is so quiet, it barely comes out. he shifts back on the bed like he doesn’t know where to put his hands. but he doesn’t stop you—he can’t. and the moment you wrap your lips around him, he breaks. “f-fuck—wait—” his head falls back instantly, a choked gasp punching out of him as his fingers grasp at the sheets.
his glasses slide down a bit, his breath stuttering as the heat rushes straight to his face. he whimpers when you take him deeper, soft and sharp, his thighs trembling slightly as he tries so hard not to move. “you look so good like this,” he pants. “fuck, you’re gonna make me—” he cums suddenly, hips twitching up into your mouth before he can warn you. it’s high-pitched, needy, almost embarrassed as he moans through it—his glasses fogged, his whole body tensed and shaking. afterward, he reaches for you with trembling hands, pulling you against his chest like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “how am i supposed to act normal after that?” his usually deep voice is slightly higher now, still recovering from the high.
if u liked this, a reblog would be greatly appreciated to help my work reach other people as well >><< !! thank u thank u sm
Summary: A European transfer student publicly tears into Yeong-bin for picking on Si-eun, humiliating him in front of the whole class and leaving Si-eun quietly stunned that someone would defend him.
Yeon Sieun x foreign!reader
A/N: saw a TikTok about how people from other countries would deal with "kdrama bullying“
Part two
Navigation
It was one of those mornings where the air in the classroom felt… stale. Not from the actual temperature, but from the way people sat in their little circles, whispering, laughing at things that weren’t really funny. The fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead, and the whiteboard at the front was still covered in faint traces of yesterday’s math problems.
You had been here long enough to know the way things worked. Who sat where. Who spoke, who stayed silent. Who everyone laughed with and who they laughed at.
And who they targeted.
It didn’t take a genius to notice that Yeong-bin liked to pick at certain people. He didn’t always throw punches — not at first. His game was subtle, petty things that stacked up: a missing pencil, a chair moved just enough to make someone trip, a cruel joke delivered with a smile. He had that polished, fake charm that worked on teachers and certain classmates, the type who’d bat their lashes at authority and then turn into a hyena the second backs were turned.
You were at your desk, flipping through your notes, when you noticed him in motion. He was at the back, where Si-eun sat quietly, like always, his posture perfect, hands resting neatly on his desk.
Yeong-bin’s shoe was in his hand. Not on his foot.
And in one casual, almost lazy swing, he smacked the side of Sieun’s desk — hard enough that the rubber sole clipped Sieun’s arm. The thwack echoed just enough to draw a couple of snickers from nearby desks.
Sieun didn’t even flinch. He just glanced down at the shoe for half a second, then up at Yeong-bin.
“Oh — my bad,” Yeong-bin said, feigning innocence with an overdone grin. “Didn’t mean to.”
It was obvious he did.
Sieun’s voice was calm when he answered, almost too calm. “Don’t make the same mistake again.”
You could tell he meant it as a polite dismissal. A line drawn, but softly.
But you were already pushing back your chair.
“Yah, what’s your fucking mission?” you said loudly, your accent cutting through the Korean syllables like a blade. Heads turned.
Yeong-bin blinked at you, taken off guard. “What?”
“You heard me,” you said, walking up between the desks until you stood right beside Sieun’s. “Why the fuck are you bothering him? The man’s literally sitting here, doing nothing, trying to study, and you’re smacking him with your dirty shoe like you’ve got a point to prove.”
The room had gone quieter. A couple of classmates exchanged glances, the kind that said oh, this is new.
Yeong-bin laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. “It was just a mistake—”
“No, no, don’t do that,” you cut in, raising a hand. “Don’t give me that ‘oops, I didn’t mean it’ crap. You’ve been on his case for weeks. You think no one notices? I notice.” You glanced at Sieun for a split second — he was staring at his desk, shoulders stiff, but you swore there was the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Yeong-bin tilted his head. “Why are you even getting involved? It’s between me and him.”
You took a step closer, closing the space until you were in his comfort zone. “Between you and him? No. It’s between you and your inflated ego. You think you look tough picking on someone who isn’t reacting? You just look pathetic.”
A low ripple of whispers moved through the room. Someone at the back muttered, “Holy shit…”
Yeong-bin’s smirk faltered. “Do you know who my parents are?”
You actually laughed — loud enough that the sound bounced off the walls. “Oh, here we go. The classic line. ‘Do you know who my father is?’” You mocked the tone so perfectly it earned a couple of giggles from the back.
“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck who your parents are. My country doesn’t hand out free respect to people just because Mommy runs a company or Daddy’s on a golf course with politicians.”
A few people gasped at your bluntness. Someone even choked on their drink.
Yeong-bin’s jaw tightened. “Watch your mouth—”
“No,” you said sharply. “You watch yourself. You’ve been yelling at him all week, threatening him over nothing. Why? What’s so threatening about him sitting quietly, minding his own business? What’s your problem?”
“I wasn’t yelling—”
“YELLING,” you repeated, your voice booming enough to make half the class jump. “Yes, yelling. You want me to show you what it sounds like? Keep talking.”
Now you were close enough to see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. You leaned slightly, voice dropping low enough for only him — and Sieun, right beside you — to hear. “In my country, if you pull this kind of crap, someone puts you through a wall. I’m not saying I will… but I’m very tempted to give you a demonstration.”
When you straightened, you clapped your hands once, sharp. “So here’s how this is gonna go: You’re going to leave him alone. No more ‘accidents.’ No more pretending to be nice when the teacher’s here and an asshole when they’re not. Because if I catch you at it again—” you tilted your head, smiling coldly “—we’re going to have a real conversation.”
It was the kind of smile that wasn’t friendly.
For the first time since you’d started talking, Yeong-bin didn’t have a comeback. He glanced away, muttered something under his breath, and shoved his shoe back on before retreating to his desk.
The room stayed silent for a beat, then the usual low chatter picked up again — but now it was tinged with excitement, with sideways glances in your direction.
You turned to Sieun. “You good?”
He looked up at you, eyes unreadable for a moment. “…Yeah.” His voice was quiet.
You gave him a small nod before heading back to your desk, ignoring the stares.
What you didn’t see — because you didn’t look back — was the way Sieun’s gaze lingered on you for a long moment after.
Inside, his thoughts were a quiet storm. No one had ever done that for him. Not in this school. Not with Yeongbin. And especially not you.
And he wasn’t sure what unsettled him more — the fact that you’d stepped in at all… or the way his chest felt strangely warm because of it.
★⠀svt ot13 & “we really shouldn’t be doing this”⠀|⠀smut, mdni. various scenarios for each member. 2.6k wc
SEUNGCHEOL⠀★⠀he’s your boss.
the lock on the door clicks behind you, a spotlight on the bulge prodding your thigh as seungcheol drags you back against him — impatient, now that the turmoil in him has finally given way.
“sir—”
“don’t call me that.” he rasps, hands fisting in your blouse. “not right now, please.”
you melt into him as his lips find your neck, pressing your body flush against his. he squeezes desperately at your sides as he throbs in his pants — nothing like the composed, strict boss you know.
“if i’m about to make this mistake,” he mutters at your jaw, fingers twitching just beneath the swell of your breasts. “i need to know you want it too.”
“we shouldn’t..” you whisper against his mouth.
“i know.” he swallows. “tell me to stop, and i will.”
your answer is to pull him in by his tie, and press your lips to his — months of tension breaking loose into a messy, desperate kiss. seungcheol groans as you lick into his mouth, grabbing your ass through the skirt and rolling you against his hard-on.
“take this off for me?” he sighs, leaking into his suit pants from the friction. “been wanting to taste you..”
JEONGHAN⠀★⠀you’re his friend’s crush.
“keep an eye on her,” he’d said. “make sure she gets home safe.” the words of his best friend had gone through one ear, and jeonghan can feel them leave out the other as your tongue explores his mouth.
jeonghan had kept an eye on you under flashing red lights — heat bubbling in his gut with each sway of your hips — and when you approached him, drawling that you wanted to leave, who is he to break a promise?
it’s not jeonghan’s fault that you’d climbed over the car’s centre console and plopped yourself in his lap. he’s not to blame, really, when his honest first response was to resist.
“sweetheart, we shouldn’t.” he’d sighed, dazed eyes watching you rock gently on his lap. his cock fills out his pants eagerly, and he clenches his fists to hold back. “my best friend likes you.”
you hummed, fingers threading through his hair. “but i don’t want him.”
jeonghan lets go — of his grip, and his control — as he swallows your breath in a kiss. allows himself to grab your waist, guiding you to grind against his bucking hips.
his groan melts onto your lips, length pulsing where it rubs into your ass. “i don’t want that either.”
JOSHUA⠀★⠀he's waiting for marriage.
the barrier of fabric between you both is soaked through at this point — joshua in his boxers, rutting into your panties as you kiss and grope each other desperately for god knows how long at this point. it’s not nearly close enough, but your fiancee’s been steadfast in his beliefs and in his patience.
you get tangled up like this every night, and each time joshua insists that you sleep before things go too far, smiling despite the obvious tent in his pants.
you think tonight will be not different — until joshua pulls back with a low whimper, eyes raking over your body with a ruined look.
“shit,” he curses, swallowing your gasp as he kisses you rougher than before. “we should just do it.”
“but.. we can’t..” you trail off into a light moan as joshua sucks at your neck, a large hand coming to squeeze your breast.
“i want you.” you feel the way his cock throbs at your heat. he chuckles. “really bad. i might die before the wedding. it hurts me to turn you down..”
his hand skims down your tummy, stopping at your panties to ghost over your clit. he smiles at how your hips buck.
“let me?”
JUN⠀★⠀he’s your leading man.
jun licks a whine from your mouth as it rolls off your tongue, his clothed length rutting just right against the thin cotton of your underwear. he presses you further into the wall, the heat between you growing damper.
you almost forgot that this is the same junhui: a quiet character, playful on a good day — but particularly cold to you and you alone. his leading lady. even with the cameras, he struggles in pretending to even tolerate your presence, and it’s making your job harder.
how ironic, that when you finally asked him outright what his problem was, you shortly found yourself smothered by him in a desperate kiss.
“shit—this is a bad idea,” jun groans out onto your lips, precum staining his pants as he mindlessly humps up into you. “why am i even doing this?”
yet, he makes no move to pull away, and you smirk.
“don’t go falling for me,” you quip, cut off with a gasp as his tip prods your clit in a particularly rough thrust. he steals another kiss from you, and you whimper. “…we should stop.”
“i know.” jun mutters, adam’s apple bobbing in a gulp as he watches where your hips roll together. “but i can’t.”
SOONYOUNG⠀★⠀he’s your brother’s best friend.
you muffle soonyoung’s moan with a kiss, your hand down the front of his pants and wrapping around his cock. the first stroke brings a loud squelch from the amount of precum coating his length, and soonyoung’s head lolls back in pleasure — knocking against the bathroom mirror.
you shush him, teeth nipping at his tongue as a warning, earning a whine in response. you stop the movements of your hand, but his pelvis just jolts upward, fucking himself into your fist.
“you need to be quiet,” you whisper-yell. your brother would break this door down, and break his best friend’s legs if he knew you were in here together.
“i shouldn’t be doing this,” soonyoung says weakly, but puts no effort to stop. his cock pulses in your hand as you twist at the tip. “i know better.”
you roll your eyes — he wants to self reflect now? when he’s already this hard?
your breath hitches as he reaches for you, firmly cupping his hand over your crotch. he groans, conflicted. “i want you..”
“better make it quick.”
“won’t last anyways.” he tugs your pants down, sighing in relief at the sight of your bare pussy. “your brother’s gonna kill me…”
WONWOO⠀★⠀his friends can hear.
wonwoo tilts his head at you like a curious cat as you climb into his lap. he cranes his neck around you to not lose sight of the computer screen — there’s a whole woman on top of him, and his attention still is on the game. you feel even less remorse for what you’re about to do.
you grab his chin, forcing him to look down at you.
“what are you—” wonwoo chokes as you lift your skirt up, presenting your bare pussy pressed to his crotch. muffled voices come from his headphones, and he clarifies that he’s talking to you. great, there’s company.
you’re too pent-up to care, grinding against his now half-hard length, and wonwoo lets out a pained noise.
he reaches for his headphones, intending to mute himself, but you grab his hand and guide it to your pussy instead. wonwoo’s breath hitches as you coat his fingers in your arousal. he raises his hips from the chair, rubbing his boner into your ass. you let out a light whine as his fingers tap your clit.
“we shouldn’t...” he murmurs, yet gently lifts you for room to tug his pants down, cock springing free. “just stay quiet.”
JIHOON⠀★⠀you both work early.
jihoon hums appreciatively as you massage the aches from his back. it was almost midnight by the time he got home from work and quietly crawled into bed. after slouching at a desk all day, the feel of your soft hands on him — groping, caressing — felt like fucking heaven.
you missed him like hell, and the little noises of relief he was letting out from the massaging were driving you up the wall. before you know it — you’re palming jihoon through his boxers, desperately grinding yourself onto the hand he’s got down the front of your pyjama pants.
you’re both exhausted from the day, kept awake only by the pure need caused by this proximity. jihoon’s barely keeping his eyes open, but he’s so hard and you’re so wet under his fingers.
“baby, we should go to bed..” he grumbles, letting out a breathy moan when you squeeze his base. “we both have early starts in the morning.”
you whine in protest, jihoon drawing the sound out as his thumb nudges your clit.
“you sleep, then.” you pull his cock out and roll on top of him. he doesn’t even lift a finger to stop you.
he groans in defeat, lining himself up. “after.”
SEOKMIN⠀★⠀you just got dumped.
“w-wait a second—” seokmin sputters, not sure what to do with his hands as your own start to feel him up.
you don’t respond as you squeeze his thighs, fingers creeping further to the growing bulge in his shorts.
“this isn’t right, i can’t,” he lets out a startled moan as your face nuzzles into his neck, breath tickling him.
“can’t what?” you ask, licking a stripe up his skin.
seokmin sighs. “i can’t do this to you..”
he can’t find the strength to push you away though, so he just sits there, body silently begging you to touch him.
he still sees a taken girl when he looks at you — a girl who belongs to someone else. as a matter of two hours ago though, that’s not true anymore.
you’re supposed to be heartbroken, and he was supposed to be comforting you. but he can’t help the way his heart swells over you being so quick to make a move.
“we’re not doing anything?” you giggle, fingers ghosting over his lap, catching the way his dick throbs.
seokmin takes one look at your lips, then throws all caution to the wind — leaning in to kiss you desperately.
no harm if you’re not doing anything, right?
MINGYU⠀★⠀you babysit his kid.
you brace yourself with a hand on the wall, whining out among the lewd squelching filling the room, too embarrassed to look down at the source: mingyu’s mouth going to town between your thighs.
you’ve orgasmed twice at this point, but he showed no intentions of stopping after the first came quick. you can feel his smirk pressed into your skin as he laps at you like a dog, fucking only a single finger into your hole and it still being enough to fill you up.
there hadn’t been any words, not since he’d asked if you’d seen his son to bed. you nodded, intending for him to pay you and send you on your way — not corner you and drop to his knees.
you squeak as mingyu hollows his cheeks to suck your clit, the sparks of a third orgasm rushing quickly into your gut.
“m-mr. kim,” you whimper, earning a smug chuckle to rumble on your clit.
“what is it, pretty?”
“we should stop..”
you’re taken aback when he listens, licking his lips as he pulls away.
“if that’s what you want.”
you swallow, noticing his other hand gripping himself through the pants. then, you softly shake your head — and he smirks.
“turn around for me.”
MINGHAO⠀★⠀he’s looking after you.
“hm?” minghao lets you pull him down to the bed, and you wrap your arms around his waist. “did you need anything else?”
he gently strokes your hair, smiling fondly at how you’re clinging to him. it’s been dark days as of late — and minghao’s been here to support you through it. carrying you to the shower when you can’t leave bed, spoonfeeding you since you’d rather starve.
he doesn't need any thanks. not every best friend might go to those lengths, but minghao does because he loves you.
minghao’s body freezes when he feels your mouth pressing kisses to his open palm. you try to pry his thighs open, and he stops you with a gentle hand on your face.
“we shouldn’t do this..” he sighs. “not because i don’t want you, but… it isn’t right. not now.”
you pout at him, resting your head in his lap as your fingers slide to his crotch. despite his reluctance, he’s already half-hard.
“i want to feel good,” you palm at him, and he just barely whimpers. “please?”
minghao’s weak to the way your eyes plead at him. he relents, pulling you up for a kiss and savouring your lips on his for the first time.
“if it makes you feel better.”
SEUNGKWAN⠀★⠀you’re at a party.
“tell me you’re mine.” seungkwan rasps, crooking two of his fingers up into your pussy. you squeak out the words, your entire body buzzing with heat over this unfamiliar side of your loving boyfriend.
seungkwan’s angry, has been since he pulled you into this bathroom by the arm, shutting out the rest of the party as he pushed you against the locked door.
you’re trying your best to stay quiet — but it seems like he wants to provoke you into making noise as his thumb swipes at your clit and his fingers fuck into your g-spot, uncaring for whoever hears.
“boo,” you whimper, insanely attracted to him. “we shouldn’t.. not here..”
seungkwan clicks his teeth, ripping his hand away. he steals your lips in a harsh kiss, licking into your mouth like he’s trying to prove a point — which he gets when your hips buck, chasing his touch.
you moan in surprise as he rubs his tip through your folds. you’re so worked up that you hadn’t even realised he pulled his cock out.
“i’m not going to hold back, so don’t you either.” he bites at your lower lip, and you just melt. “i want that fucker to hear.”
VERNON⠀★⠀you’re not using protection.
you tremble under vernon, nails digging into his tensed forearms as he grinds against you — skin to skin, your combined arousal squelching with each rut of his cock through your folds.
his tip bumps your clit so perfectly, and he’s watching each little reaction on your face so intently that you could cry. not just because of how loved you feel, but how bad you need him too.
vernon’s even worse off than you are — but he can’t cross this line. unless..
“i know we shouldn’t,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth when his tip catches on your hole with a particularly rough thrust. “but, fuck, i’m really struggling here..”
“me too,” you admit, wrapping your arms around his toned back. “i want it.”
his eyes widen, slowing the rocks of his body, and you nearly choke from the loss of friction. “don’t just say that..”
“i’m not,” you give him a reassuring smile, pecking his nose sweetly. “i want to feel you.”
“fuck.” he groans when he dives in for a kiss, reaching down to line himself up. his head of his cock just nudges your heat, and it twitches. “okay.. but if you say—”
“not gonna wanna stop.”
CHAN⠀★⠀you’re both too drunk.
you giggle as chan’s heavy breath tickles your neck. his lips latch onto the skin to suck a bruise and you shiver, body writhing under his pinning you to the couch.
“baby, shi—stop squirming, please,” he moans out at your frantic hips rutting against the tent in his pants — the throb of his cock matching the one in his temples.
your head is swimming, chan’s touch leaving a trail of fire across your sweating body. you can’t even remember leaving the bar, let alone making it home; all your hazy brain knows for sure is that you need chan.
“want it,” you bumble, not a thought passing in your head as you reach down to grip him. chan keels over, his drunken lust taking over as he humps into your hand.
“we shouldn’t do this,” he huffs to himself, a brief moment of clarity. it wouldn’t be right.
you’re so sensitive to everything right now, you swear your eyes well up in desperation. or maybe your vision’s just that blurry. determined, you drag your crotch against him, moaning out at the burning friction.
his mouth drops open in a whimper, just letting you. “but, i guess we could..”
Settle in with your coziest blanket and grab some popcorn, because it's time to SVTFLIX & chill! Hosted by @100vern, SVTFLIX is a Seventeen collab inspired by all of our favorite K-dramas. Whether you're in the mood for a romantic comedy that breaks the fourth wall or angsty magical fantasy, our talented cast of writers has you covered.
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Most of these titles include adult content, which is restricted to those 18 years of age or older. Minors are not welcome to engage with this content and will not be tagged in fics that contain it, even if requested.
📺 True Romance, starring Choi Seungcheol
after going on a blind date with false pretenses with the ceo of your company, things take a turn when he asks you to marry him to keep himself from ending up in an arranged marriage.
pairing: ceo!seungcheol x f. reader
genre: romance, smut, fluff, fake engagement, rom com at times, angst
rating: 18+
warnings: cussing, explicit sexual content, lying
✷ director: @straylightdream | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: business proposal
📺 Business Proposal, starring Yoon Jeonghan
finding out your boss is a misogynistic pig when you're up for the biggest promotion of your life is, to put it mildly, minorly inconvenient. finding out your ex is also a candidate? majorly infuriating. sometimes the only way to win is to not play… but other times the guy working a dead-end job at the convenience store near your apartment agrees to fake marry you so long as he gets what he wants out of the deal. too bad you can't stand each other.
pairing: jeonghan x f. reader
genre: fake dating, marriage of convenience au; mutual annoyances to lovers, miscommunication; crack, fluff, angst, smut
rating: 18+
warnings: capitalism, misogyny, adult content
✷ director: @100vern | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: no gain no love
📺 Guard of the Heart, starring Joshua Hong
You have a lot of standards to meet. You’ve always had. Your family, your company, your fans, they all expect the best from you. And while it is your company who signs your checks, you have yet to disobey your family. So, when your mother demands you go on a blind date to find yourself a competent husband to take over the family business, you listen. You go on a blind date and meet with the worst possible man you could imagine — Joshua Hong. Annoying, careless, Joshua, who manages to make an impression on you nonetheless. But you refuse to fall for him or his shenanigans, especially after the series of events following your first meeting.
pairing: demon!joshua x idol!f. reader
genre: romance, strangers to lovers, bodyguard romance, magic
rating: 18+
warnings: smut, blood, graphic descriptions of violence, obsessive fans, death threats
✷ director: @jakedustry | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: my demon
📺 You Again, starring Wen Junhui
it's been 10 years. since you last saw jun. since the break up that rocked you. since you've been back to this town. since you thought about any of this. but leave it to one of your closest friends to draw both you and jun back in and send your world spiraling again.
pairing: jun x f!reader
genre: attempts at humor, fluff, angst, smut, exes to ?
rating: 18+
warnings: smut, past relationship issues
✷ director: @starlightkyeom | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: our beloved summer
📺 Our Rented Marriage, starring Kwon Soonyoung
out of options when your roommate becomes engaged to her boyfriend, you find hope that maybe there you'll find your ground when you meet kwon soonyoung, your landlord, and the man who asked you to marry him for the sake of rent.
pairing: soonyoung x f. reader
genre: slice of life, romantic comedy, angst, marriage of convenience, strangers to lovers, slow burn, suggestive
rating: 18+
warnings: alcohol, smoking, miscommunication, harassment, misogynistic environments/workplace
✷ director: @mellow-wishes | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: because this is my first life
📺 Truly Madly Deeply, starring Jeon Wonwoo
Jeon Wonwoo is a brilliant programmer. The "what if" of your college years, he's back in your life in the most dramatic way. Yours and Wonwoo's internal Cells villages get into a state of chaotic, hilarious situations and things get interesting. Your Love Cell finally started to wake up from its deep slumber after your last devastating heartbreak. Jeon Wonwoo, has come to wake up every single Cell in your brain in the best way possible, to heal and to learn. To love again.
pairing: wonwoo x reader
genre: friends? to lovers, romance, fluff, slight angst, comedy, fantasy au, mutual pining
rating: 18+
warnings: strong language working environment, mentions of eating due to stress, past relationships, suggestive, a tiny little miscommunication, wonwoo is down bad
✷ director: @lovelylonelinesssvt | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: yumi's cells
📺 Crossing the Bridge to You, starring Lee Jihoon
When Jihoon returns to Daeho after three years, the last thing he expects is running into a woman who claims to be his fiancé. You, who have been stuck in Jinyowon for the past three years, rattle his world with your eccentric yet kind nature. Your boldness is new to him but so is your naivety; will he get his happy ending despite the tragedy that has bound him to guilt? Will you get yours after opposing your mother? Only time will tell.
pairing: sorcerer!jihoon x priestess!f. reader
genre: angst, fluff, fantasy, strangers to lovers, marriage of convenience
rating: 18+
warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, near death situation, memory loss, constant suffering, blood, posession and usage of weapons (swords, bow and arrow), murder, corpses, mentions of suicide, self-blame, lack of freedom and being locked up, messed up timeline of AOS s2 plot
✷ director: @cherrymayz | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: alchemy of souls
📺 Crumpled Paper and Metal Stars, starring Lee Seokmin
Your second semester of grad school has begun. Everything should be relatively easy, you've completed a semester and most of the people in your cohort adore your kindness and sunshine like disposition. Just as you're getting settled, an anonymous post ignites your semester. Instead of an easy sixteen weeks of learning, you're balancing teaching, a post that has the attention of literally everyone, and the personification of a gray cloud: Lee Seokmin.
pairing: grad student!seokmin x grad student!f. reader
genre: grumpy x sunshine, angst, university au, cohorts to lovers, fluff, secret relationship and the angst that comes with it, anonymous confession
rating: 18+
warnings: alcohol, seokmin is the grumpiest (lowk to the point where he's an asshole), mentions of academic burnout, mentions of a sick parent, suggestive scenes
✷ director: @gentleisa | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: dear m
📺 Oops!! We Broke the Plot, starring Kim Mingyu
You and Mingyu are childhood friends and two self‑aware comic characters that are forced into clichéd romcom roles you both hate. On the page, he’s the perfect jock and you’re the villainess; off the page, you’re a nerd–queen duo secretly in love. Fed up with scripted drama and unwanted love triangles, you rebel, glitching the comic as the Writer fights to force you back into place. What follows isn’t a romcom but a battle for agency, freedom, and the right to choose each other.
pairing: mingyu x f. reader
genre: romantic comedy, smut, angst, drama, childhood friends to lovers, meta, breaking the fourth wall(?)
rating: 18+
warnings: smut/nsfw content
✷ director: @xomakara | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: extra-ordinary you
📺 Universal Error, starring Xu Minghao
Being a doctor is hard work. Running your own fan page with over a thousand followers and translating a Chinese webtoon every week? Even harder. Being an avid reader and fan girl of the popular Chinese Webtoon, "Universal Error" turns your life upside down for the better as you translate it every week for your leaks page. However, when the finale turns dark and the main character, Xu Minghao's ending is left open-ended and undetermined. You thought your life couldn't get any worse, until an unforeseen circumstance happens that ends with you waking up in an alternate reality with Xu Minghao's life in your hands. Will you be able to change his reality or would you be left with a Universal Error yourself?
pairing: xu minghao x f. reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, thriller, suspense, fantasy
rating: 18+
warnings: smut/nsfw content, talks about murder, weapons, blood
✷ director: @livmarauder | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: w: two worlds apart
📺 Cyber Love is Bullshit, starring Boo Seungkwan
You hate Love Alarm and everything that it stands for, especially since it's the reason why your last relationship ended. Now navigating through a society where people rely a machine to dictate who you fall for, you find a lone soul like yours who makes you believe in love again.
pairing: seungkwan x reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, found family?
rating: 18+
warnings: talks of infidelity, sexual content
✷ director: @aeristudios | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: love alarm
📺 Rabbit, starring Vernon Chwe
Revenge is the only thing that kept you alive after your family’s betrayal. When the police force you to earn your place by infiltrating the same syndicate that destroyed you, you step back into a world that feels far too familiar - especially Vernon, who seems to see right through you.
pairing: vernon x f. reader
genre: mafia, criminal, angst, smut
ratings: 18+
warnings: violence, criminal behavior, explicit language, explicit content
✷ director: @sailorsoons | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: my name
📺 You Think You Know a Guy, starring Lee Chan
Chan’s grandmother says she disapproves, but he knows she doesn’t mind so long as he proves he can turn a profit before he's given a role in the family business. That’s the easy part, Chan thinks, since a friend in Tokyo says business is booming for his own boyfriend rental service. So he hires four good looking guys— the himbo, the stoic romantic, the playboy, and you, the pretty one. The hardest part, Chan thinks later, is stopping himself from looking your way. (Or: allegedly straight Chan questions his sexuality when all he can think about is the guy who works for him.)
pairing: boss!chan x afab reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers
rating: 18+
warnings: questioning sexuality and gender, employer/ee dynamic, queer themes, accepting family/friend group, accidental but non-malicious misgendering; reader is afab, uses she/they pronouns, and looks androgynous
✷ director: @imnotshua | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: coffee prince
Please note that all information above is subject to change, including story content and posting deadlines. Writing is meant to be fun, so while all involved are encouraged to post by the deadline, we understand that shit happens! Our talented group of authors are as excited to release their work as you are to read it, so please be patient and kind. Thank you so much for your interest! ✷
Pairing : Best Friend!Hyung Line x Reader Genres : Friends to ???, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Mild Angst Warnings : Mild Stalking/Unwanted Following, Cursing, Food Mention Word Count : 7.5K
ᯓ★ Synopsis : You separate from the friend group into the crowd with nothing but a casual promise of donuts, but when he notices you missing for way too long, panic rises fast. The moment he hears you say: “Hi, Babe!!” at him—your best friend—with a strange man following closely behind you, all he can think is to protect you first then ask questions later.
In the late afternoon, you had been walking with the boys—your friends, your chaotic bunch of thirteen—at the busy pedestrian festival showered with music, street food, booths lining either side of the road. You and the boys had been weaving between the food stalls and snapping photos for the memories. The air felt warm with the dusk casting orange hues across the sky, and laughter echoing in the background.
You had wandered off for just a second to chase after a pop-up donut truck you had spotted. Just for a moment. You briefly mentioned it to the group, so they were aware. It was just for a moment. A dumb decision, maybe, but the boys had been walking slow, and you were sure that you could find them again after. They are quite the loud bunch.
But except now, you’re alone.
The crowd has thickened.
Thus, currently you stood still for a moment, a paper bag of mini donuts in hand, scanning left and right. No familiar faces. No familiar laughter. No shouts of: “Y/N-yah, where’d you go?!” Their phone buzzes with a group message—someone had sent a meme. You reply with a quick: “Coming back rn lol,” but the reception is... well, in simple terms, shitty.
That’s when it happens.
A voice behind you.
Close.
A bit too close.
“Hey, you lost or something?”
You flinch—slightly—but smile politely as you turn. Your first instinct is to assume it’s nothing.
The man is maybe mid-thirties, dressed casually, with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something about his posture… too relaxed, like he’s been watching you longer than just now. You don’t want to assume the worst possible situation, but something about this man stood before you.. doesn’t feel right.
You shift your weight, trying to angle away without being obvious. Maybe, it’s because you’ve been hanging out with the boys over and over who have been nothing but gentlemen with a sprinkle of chaos in-between. But perhaps that’s why you don’t feel comfortable with this man..?
It seems as though he’s just trying to help.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things..
“You okay there?” he asks again, stepping into your space a little too confidently. “You look like you could use some company.”
Nevermind.
Your fingers curl tighter around the paper bag. Shit, leaving the group for these donuts wasn’t the best idea.. probably should’ve taken at least one of them with you. You try to keep your voice light as you muster up a reply.
“No, I’m good. I’m meeting someone.”
“Really?” His gaze dips briefly—too briefly—to the donut bag that you have clenched in your hold, then back to your eyes. “Didn’t see you with anyone.”
Fuck.
Your smile drops slightly. That tone…
Not friendly.
Not curious.
Just challenging.
Testing.
You take a step back. He matches it forward.
Ah, shit.
“You sure? I’m just saying.. a pretty one like you, out here all alone? Dangerous world.”
The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. It felt uncomfortable, it felt invasive, it felt suffocating.
“How about you come with me?”
That’s when your stomach flips. The wrong kind of fear starts to bloom… slow, creeping, sour. You glances past him… there’s people everywhere, but no familiar faces. No tall frame of Mingyu towering over the crowd, no bright blonde hair of Seungkwan bouncing above heads, no quiet presence of Wonwoo anchoring you. Just strangers. Everyone busy with their own moments.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You fake a laugh, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, scanning again. Then suddenly, you see it. You see something in the distance—someone familiar. At least, you hope. You hope to everything that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t try to doubt it for a second before you start speed walking.
The guy follows.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out, sweetheart. C’mon, you’re being a little rude now, don’t you think?”
Nope.
Nope, no thank you. This isn’t just creepy. This is wrong. Your heart is racing faster now, breath hitching, and still, you don’t want to cause a scene. Doesn’t want to draw attention. Doesn’t want to be that person.
And then—you see him. One of the boys. One of your boys. Just a few feet ahead. His back turned.
Relief punches through your chest like a gasp of air after being underwater. Thank goodness, your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You don’t think, don’t plan. You only had one thing on your mind:
Help.
You just walk faster, almost running now, weaving through people.
The creepy guy keeps following, still muttering something—something about you being stuck-up, something about just being nice.
And then you finally reach your best friend. Your lifeline. Your other half. You quickly rush up, and in the most sugar-coated voice you can muster:
“Hi, babe!!”
You say like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you’ve been dating for years. Like nothing is wrong.
But your whole body is tense. Your smile is trembling.
Now it’s up to him.
⭑.ᐟ Choi Seungcheol (S.Coups)
He had just finished purchasing everyone’s drink orders with his money—forcibly chosen against his will by the likings of Jeonghan—balancing a tray of lemonades and sodas like a pro. He weaved through the crowd with ease to return back to his group of two Americans, one tiger, one Italian, one dinosaur, eight Koreans, and one gremlin.
Wait.
Where’s the gremlin—where are you?
He paused mid-step, scanning the people around him.
The boys were still nearby, too, but Seungcheol had a habit. A compulsion, really. He always knew where everyone was.
Especially you.
So when he glanced up and didn’t immediately see you, his body tensed before his brain could even process it. He took a small breath to soothe himself at a bit. The group had been teasing you earlier for wanting to get donuts, Seungcheol frowned. Maybe you weren’t far. Probably just a few booths away, getting a snack to bite.
But his gut didn’t like not seeing you. Not hearing you. Not knowing exactly where you are.
He placed the tray down on a nearby lifted-up cement rim around a tree. The boys can wait longer for the drinks, after all, they did make him pay. He went to each for his phone in his pocket to text you, asking where you were.
He turned, scanning the crowd once more, slowly. And then—
There.
You.
Weaving through the crowd. A few meters away. Moving fast. Dodging between people.
Something in your eyes made his chest clench.
You were smiling—too big. Not your usual soft, gummy grin. It was the fake kind. The kind you used when you were trying to stay unnoticed. The kind you wore when you were nervous.
Behind them, about a pace and a half too close, was a man.
Older. Following. Staring at you.
Too close.
Way too close.
Seungcheol’s pulse flicked once—not in panic, but in that quiet, dangerous way. Like a trigger pulled inside his chest.
He’s tailing you.
And you look scared—petrified even.
He locked eyes with you. The moment you saw him, your whole body dropped into something vulnerable. Safe. He could see it.. the mask starting to crack.
And before he could even call your name, you were at his side, breath just a little uneven, hand clinging tight to his arm like a lifeline as you said:
“Hi babe!!”
It was so unlike you—so forced—that it physically hurt him to hear. But he didn’t let it show.
He dropped his voice low, warm but lined with steel.
“There you are.”
He shifted, wrapping the other around your shoulders immediately, tucking you close to his side. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need context. He felt the tremble in your fingers. The way you tucked yourself in like you wanted to disappear.
He knew.
Seungcheol’s eyes snapped up and found the man approaching behind you. The guy looked like he was trying to play casual, hands in his pockets, but his smile had that same edge Seungcheol knew too well.. the kind that wasn’t friendly.
He locked eyes with him.
“Can I help you with something?”
His tone was polite. Too polite.
But his expression said: ‘You’re five seconds from a mistake.’
The guy faltered.
Hesitated.
He was clearly caught off guard—like he hadn’t expected someone like Seungcheol to be waiting. Maybe he’d thought you were actually alone. Or that you were bluffing.
The man’s eyes flicked between your arm wrapped tightly around Seungcheol’s, and Seungcheol’s gaze was cold and unwavering.
“No, man, it’s cool,” the guy muttered, suddenly losing the swagger he’d approached with. “Just thought they looked lost—“
Seungcheol didn’t say a word, tilting his head.
He just looked at him.
His stare was sharp, cold. Steady. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. He dared the guy to keep talking.
The man’s confidence withered. His face twitched.
That was enough. The guy turned and walked off.
Only when the creep was fully out of sight, swallowed by the crowd, Seungcheol finally exhaled, slowly, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder.
“Hey.” His voice dropped back to normal.. soft. Comforting. “Are you okay?”
You nodded wordlessly against his arm, but he could feel how hard you were breathing. Like you hadn’t dared to breathe before.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, tilting his head so he could see your expression better. “Even just a signal, you know I would’ve come running.”
You gave him a weak little shrug, that familiar silent language you shared. Like you didn’t want to cause a scene. Like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to make noise over something that hadn’t ‘really happened.’ Like you didn’t want to be a bother.
“Hey, look at me.” He ducked slightly, trying to catch your eyes. When you finally did, he said gently, “Next time… don’t even think. Just call. I’ll find you. No matter where you are.”
Still clinging, still trembling slightly, but a little more grounded now. You took in a small inhale before speaking, your voice was soft, breathless:
“Reception’s shit.”
It made his chest tighten.
“Okay. That’s fair.” He gently adjusted you under his arm, like making space for you to breathe again. “Next time, though, screw the reception. Just scream. I’ll hear you. I don’t care how loud. I’ll find you even in a crowd of people.”
You gave him a weak little grin—one of those tired, grateful ones that barely reached your eyes but said more than words could.
“Here. Still cold.” He gave your shoulder one last squeeze and held out a lemonade from the tray, “And I promise I didn’t drink from it. Yet.”
That got a tiny smile. A shaky one…
But a real one.
‘I never want them to go through that again,’ he thought, ‘I nearly lost my mind.’
But he didn’t say it out loud.
He just pulled you close and started walking to the group with a tray of lemonades and sodas.
⭑.ᐟ Yoon Jeonghan
The boys were huddled near a fried skewer cart, arguing over whether the spicy squid one was actually spicy, or if Seungkwan was just being dramatic again.
Jeonghan wasn’t really listening. His eyes were on the crowd.
Or more specifically—
The space where you should’ve been.
You’d been with them twenty minutes ago. Trailing beside him. Nudging him every time you saw a cat-shaped pin. Tugging his sleeve to ask if you should buy boba again even though you were still holding the last one.
Now?
Gone.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked suddenly to the person next to him, eyes scanning the crowd.
Jun shrugged without thinking, watching as the debate unfolded between the group. A normal occurrence.
“Didn’t they say they were going to get donuts?”
Jeonghan blinked.
That had been a while ago.
And you hadn’t come bouncing back with your usual ‘Look, I brought snacks!!’ victory speech.
“I’m gonna go find them.”
“Want me to come—“
Jun’s words had fallen deaf to Jeonghan’s ears as he was already out of range. He already peeled away from the group and slipping into the crowd like a ghost.
It wasn’t panic—not yet.
You were clever.
Careful.
But Jeonghan had always had this sixth sense for when something wasn’t sitting right.
And right now, something in his chest was beginning to buzz.
The crowd was thick. Music thumped in the distance. Laughter echoed from somewhere behind him. His eyes flicked across faces, ponytails, hats, and strangers. Looking for you… any sign of you.
Come on, where’d you wander off to..
Then—
“Hi, babe!!”
The words sliced through the noise. High. Syrupy. Off.
Jeonghan’s head turned immediately.
He didn’t just hear it—he registered it. The tone. The pitch.
That wasn’t your voice.
Not the real one, anyway.
His spine straightened. He caught sight of you a second later. He turned—fast—just in time for you to latch onto his arm like you were auditioning for a cheesy romcom finale.
You were smiling, but Jeonghan knew every version of your smile. The soft ones, the flustered ones, the ones you gave when you were mad but pretending not to be.
This one?
This one was entirely different.
There was something stiff in your shoulders. Forced. Your fingers gripped tighter than they should have.
And right behind you.
A man.
Mid-thirties. Too close. Too casual.
Looking like he owned your space.
Jeonghan blinked once.
And then—
“Ahh, my baby’s back,” he whined smoothly, turning to face you fully, already slipping into the role like it was second nature. He dropped into a dramatic tone as he pulled you into his arms like it was the world’s most absurd romcom. “There you are. I was just about to go looking for you.”
His hand pressed gently against the back of your head. His chin rested lightly on your crown. He dropped a kiss on the top of your head with zero hesitation. “You had me worried. What took you so long, hmm?”
He kept smiling. His voice, sweet as syrup.
But his eyes—
Stayed open.
Locked onto the man.
Still smiling, Jeonghan tilted his head slightly.
“Do you mind?” he asked, the edge in his voice razor-thin. “Or is there something wrong?”
His tone.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t angry.
It was just… dead calm.
The man hesitated. Eyes flicked between you two.
“…Nah,” he said finally, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t realize they were with someone.”
Jeonghan’s smile stayed polite—too polite. The kind that made people uneasy.
“Do you realize it now?”
A pause.
The man gave a short chuckle and backed off, muttering something under his breath—probably a lame excuse or a half-assed apology—before disappearing into the crowd.
Quickly.
Jeonghan didn’t move until the guy was swallowed by the crowd.
He stayed exactly as he was with arms looped around you, chin still resting on your head, like the scene had never ended.
Only when he was sure you two were alone did he let out a breath through his nose. Jeonghan felt the tension start to ease beneath his arm. Your grip on his sleeve loosened—just slightly.
“You really gotta stop looking so dateable,” he murmured, voice dipping into something much softer now. He eyed the small donut bag in your hand, “It’s dangerous out here for cute ones with donut addictions.”
You gave a quiet, breathy sound—halfway between a laugh and a sigh. He leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up with one finger.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing down at you now, voice lower, realer.
You gave a small nod.
“Reception’s shit,” you murmured, barely audible over the noise. “Tried texting earlier, but nothing. Figured calling wouldn’t work either.”
Jeonghan clicked his tongue.
“Tch. We really need to get you a flare gun or something. Or—no. Better yet, one of those giant inflatable waving guys. So I know where to find you.”
That earned him the smallest huff of a laugh. You still looked shaken, but your shoulders had lowered a little.
“Good instinct, though,” he teased. “‘Babe’? Bold choice. I almost blushed.”
You rolled your eyes at him.
He grinned.
“Come on, babe,” he said just loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, tugging you closer to him. “Let’s go tell Ddaddu-ya that you wandered off again so I can pretend to be mad while he actually yells.”
And as they walked, Jeonghan threw one last look over his shoulder.
Nothing, he noted.
Good.
He made sure to stay close by you the next time you guys had went out in a public crowded area, not daring to have you alone even if you went to get a brief snack.
⭑.ᐟ Hong Jisoo (Joshua)
The street festival was loud.
Not overwhelming—just busy. Music from two directions, kids with balloon swords, a bubble machine fogging the sidewalk with glittering mist. The kind of summer chaos that would normally make Joshua tuck his hands into his pockets and quietly observe.
But now?
He was frowning.
Subtly. Barely. Just a crease between his brows.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked over his shoulder as the others debated tteokbokki vs corndogs again.
“Don’t worry,” Seungkwan replied with a wave. “They said they were just getting a snack.”
Joshua didn’t answer.
His eyes scanned the crowd. Left. Right. His hand tightened around the sleeve of his jacket. His eyebrows furrowed, finding no sight of you around.
You had been gone too long.
He felt around in his pocket in search for his phone, fingers briefly touching the cold metal. He carefully pulled it out of his pocket, turning it on to check his notifications. Yet there was nothing. Though, he has a habit of not checking his messages—this was a more dire situation. He did a double check and unlocked his phone to check his contacts with you. Nothing. No text. No missed call.
He frowned more.
You said: ‘Just a snack, it’ll take two or three minutes.’
That had been nearly ten minutes ago.
You were a lot of things, but being this careless with time wasn’t one of them. And if you were gone for this long, you would at least say something. Not unless something was wrong.
The festival was packed. Music, laughter, the hum of fans and food carts. Bright colors and chattering families. But something buzzed uneasily at the back of his mind. The longer you stayed gone, the louder it got.
“I’m gonna go check on them,” Joshua said quietly to Jun, who was sipping on a mango smoothie nearby.
“Huh? Oh—didn’t Jeonghan-hyung say they were getting donuts?”
“Yeah,” Joshua said, already walking away.
He turned from the group, quietly slipping toward the edge of the crowd. He moved through the crowd calmly, not running—not yet—but scanning faces, cutting diagonally across toward the alley of snack booths you’d disappeared into earlier. His fingers twitched at his sides, every sense alert. Eyes moving constantly. Watching. Searching for—
“Hi, babe!!”
He stopped cold.
His heart jumped.
He froze.
That voice.
The tone was off. too loud, too sweet, sugar-panic coated in panic. Too high. Too cheerful. It hit his ears like a sour note.
Joshua’s gaze darted toward the voice—
And landed on…
You.
Moving fast, weaving through a cluster of strangers, your expression all wrong. Your smile was pasted on like a sticker. Bright. Wide. Fake.
Joshua’s smile flickered. Just for a second.
His eyes tracked past you.
And trailing behind you—
A man.
Older. Unfamiliar. Close. Too close.
Wearing that expression—the one that made Joshua’s stomach twist.
Joshua didn’t think. He just moved.
His body language didn’t change—still calm, still collected—but he stepped into your path without hesitation. He saw as the relief flooded your eyes as you closed the distance fast, reaching for his hand.
Joshua didn’t hesitate.
“Hey, love,” he said gently, voice warm as summer sun. He took your hand instantly, fingers weaving through yours, and opening his arms just wide enough for you to slip in.
You didn’t hesitate.
You clung to his side like he was home.
“There you are,” Joshua continued. His voice seemingly stabilzing you, he noted as he felt you briefly relax.
“I was looking for you,” he added, brushing a strand of hair from your face like he hadn’t just noticed the way your hands were shaking.
He shifted your body at an angle, away from the man. A way to step firmly between you and the stranger.
Shielding you.
Grounding you.
His smile stayed soft.
His voice didn’t raise.
But something in him locked into place.
Then he turned his head slightly.
And locked eyes with the man who was caught off guard.
“Everything alright?” Joshua asked, voice quiet. It was polite, but perhaps.. a bit too polite.
His voice was just.. light. Kind. Courteous.
But under that soft tone was something cold.
Something sharp.
And the guy must’ve felt it.
The man blinked. Looked from you to Joshua. His expression shifted—something smug fading into irritation. “Oh, I didn’t realize they were with someone.”
Joshua smiled.
Beautifully.
“They are.”
Still soft. Still calm.
But something in his voice flattened—like ice freezing over a surface that used to be warm.
He didn’t break eye contact.
The man hesitated. Seemed to calculate something. Then gave a half-hearted shrug and disappeared into the flow of the crowd.
Joshua didn’t watch him go.
He immediately turned his full attention back to you. Still holding you gently. Still soft. You hadn’t let go of his hand. Your grip was tight, fingers trembling just a little.
“You okay?” he asked, softly.
You nodded. “Tried texting. No signal.”
“I figured, good try anyway,” he said, brushing your hair. He squeezed your hand gently, reassuringly. “You had me worried for a second.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, you have nothing to apologize for, okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, you came right on time, thankfully.”
And just like that, his smile returned—real this time.
He brushed a thumb over your knuckles. “You’re getting pretty good at improv. ‘Babe,’ huh?”
“Desperate times,” you gave a breathless laugh.
He chuckled under his breath and leaned down a little closer.
“Well, if you’re going to call me that, you’re legally required to give me a donut now.”
And when you gave a tiny eye roll and bumped your head against his shoulder, he knew you were okay.
“But don’t make this a habit,” he whispered. “I’m possessive.”
That earned the another tiniest eye-roll from you. He was glad, it was easing you up. He exhaled quietly and gave you one last glance over.
Then—
“Come on,” Joshua said. “Let’s get back to the others before Vernon decides you got abducted by a boba vendor.”
As they walked, his hand never left your back.
And his eyes?
They flicked once—just once—over his shoulder.
Checking.
Making sure the man didn’t try anything else.
Because Joshua could be patient. And sweet. And endlessly kind.
But if anyone try to lay a hand on you?
He would be ready. They’d find out just how sharp a smile like his could get. And this time, the gloves would come off.
⭑.ᐟ Wen Junhui (Jun)
It was loud, sticky, and chaotic.
Vendors yelling over music, the scent of grilled squid wafting through the summer air, and someone—probably Seungkwan—shrieking about losing rock-paper-scissors and having to pay for everyone’s drinks. Again.
Jun was happily nursing his skewer of candied sweet potato, leaning against a wall in the shade, watching chaos unfold like theater.
You were beside him just a moment ago. Laughing behind your hand, doing a dumb little dance after stealing one of Dino’s egg breads and sprinting away like you robbed a bank.
He’d tossed a grape at your head and missed on purpose. You snorted.
Everything had been light.
“Bro, how many dumplings can you eat before you die?” Vernon asked nearby, holding two trays like it was his last supper.
Jun answered immediately, “Six. And then resurrection.”
Joshua chuckled. Hoshi declared, “Ten if you inhale. No chewing.”
“Y/N, how many for you?” Jun turned his head, still smiling.
No answer.
He blinked.
Looked beside him.
Nothing.
Just the shifting crowd. The echo of the music. No figure of someone stealing a snack from another member. No sound of your laughter.
Nothing.
He scanned again.
No Y/N.
Huh.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asked casually, assuming you were crouched behind someone.
“Didn’t they say they were gonna get donuts?” Jeonghan replied, eating a grape that he had stolen from Joshua.
Ah.
That’s right..
Jun nodded slowly. “They did.”
He waited.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then a minute.
His brows furrowed just slightly. No big deal. You were independent. But still—
You usually would text or call him if it was taking longer or something.
He pulled out his phone, texting the group chat that you and the members were in, asking where you had gone. No response. He shifted in his seat, impatiently. Then he clicked on your name. No response.
Another thirty seconds.
Something subtle in his chest coiled.
You were never gone this long, especially if you had just gone for donuts—the line wasn’t long either, the last time he passed by it. But you wouldn’t be gone without texting or calling, complaining it was taking forever if it was truly taking you this long.
Jun’s instincts started whispering.
Something’s wrong.
Then after a pause: “I’m gonna go check on them.”
“Do you want me to come with?” Joshua asked, as he lightly smacked Jeonghan’s hand away from his grapes. Jun shook his head, standing up. Before he walked off, he heard Joshua say: “Text the group chat when you find them.”
But he was already walking, even before he realized it. Quietly weaving through the crowd, still holding his half-eaten dumpling. Eyes scanning. Steps calm.
But his mind wasn’t.
He was slipping through the crowd, halfway toward the snack booth street when he heard it.
Your voice.
“Hi, babe!!”
Jun froze mid-step.
His head snapped toward the sound.
There you were.
Y/N…
Walking quickly toward him, posture too stiff, smile way too bright to be real. Your voice laced with sugar and sirens.
Jun’s eyes narrowed instantly.
You never called anyone ‘babe.’ Not even jokingly.
Not unless something was wrong.
And then he saw the man.
Older.
Taller.
A stranger.
His stance too confident. Too casual for comfort. His smile too familiar.
Jun’s heartbeat didn’t even change.
But his expression dropped into ice.
In a blink, he moved.
Three fast strides, then he was at your side.
“Hi babe,” you said again, breathless this time. Your hand immediately curled around his arm, latching on.
He didn’t hesitate.
Jun smiled.
It was a pretty smile. Gentle. Relaxed.
He looked down at you with lazy affection, like you’d just gifted him flowers in front of a camera crew.
“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, voice coated in silk and warning. He pulled you close, his arm circling your waist like it belonged there.
Then his head turned toward the man.
His smile vanished.
Gone just like that.
Jun stared him down with zero emotion in his face.
Like he was made of stone.
His Mandarin accent thickened just slightly, slipping through the corners of his words like sharpened glass:
“Can I help you?”
He didn’t blink.
Didn’t flinch.
Just let the silence stretch.
The man faltered.
Didn’t answer.
Just backed off.
Good choice.
Jun didn’t say another word.
He turned his full body toward you, guiding you with the pressure of his hand, and walked away like the guy didn’t exist. Only when you were both several steps into the crowd again did he glance down at you.
“What happened?” he asked quietly, brows still furrowed.
“I was getting donuts before the man approached me and wouldn’t leave me alone..”
He exhaled. “You okay?”
You nodded, letting out a heavy breath. Still gripping his sleeve.
A beat passed.
Jun softened.
“You’re not hurt?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Jun tugged your hand up and pressed a kiss to your knuckles like it was a casual habit. “You scared me,” he said plainly.
“You scared him,” you muttered, and Jun smiled faintly again.
“Good.”
He gave you a look. Then with a hum, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the last chunk of the dumpling.
“Open,” he said, holding it up to you like a peace offering.
You blinked, then opened your mouth and he popped it in with a quiet: “There you go.”
A beat.
He nudged your shoulder gently, as if nothing happened. Then, with the softest lilt of his voice, “You owe me a donut, you know. You abandoned me. That’s emotional damage. I almost died of heartbreak.”
“You, mhmm, almost died?” you had managed to say, muffled by food.
“Absolutely. You abandoned me. Tragic.”
You laughed—finally. The tension eased out of your shoulders just a little.
He smiled.
He took his jacket, wrapping around your shoulders without a second thought. With a final glance at where the man disappeared, he led you back toward the others—
Arm still firmly around you.
He made sure to stay close by your side for the rest of the day, whether you realized it or not.
⭑.ᐟ Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)
It all started with a banana.
Specifically, a banana he’d won at the one of those festival games five minutes ago.
It sat tucked under one arm like a small child while Hoshi danced a little victory jig in front of the others. Dokyeom cheered like it was the Olympics. Seungkwan said he looked like a child who’d just been told Santa was real. Mingyu tried to steal it and almost got bitten. Jeonghan told him he looked like a toddler. And you—you had snorted so hard you wheezed.
He beamed.
He’d paraded it through the street like a newborn.
“This is my child,” he declared proudly.
Dokyeom nodded solemnly. “I’ll be the godfather.”
Mingyu tried to kidnap it. “Let me hold him.”
“No! You drop things!”
It was a perfect day.
Somewhere between the snack stalls and the photo booth, you had wandered off, mumbling something to Joshua about donuts and disappearing into the crowd.
No one thought much of it at first.
It wasn’t unusual. You did that sometimes, floating between members like a soft breeze. They were used to spotting you again by the bounce of your steps or the faint sound of your humming one of their songs.
Until—
“Hey. Where’s Y/N?”
The question came from Wonwoo, calm but sharp.
Seungkwan blinked. “Didn’t they go get donuts?”
Hoshi glanced up, mid-bite of his fish cake. The group had decided to gather around a fishcake stall—figuring it was a good place to eat and wait for you to buy your donuts. He watched as Dokyeom pulled out his phone, checking it, “They didn’t text…”
Joshua was already looking around. “They left like… ten minutes ago.”
Ten minutes.
Too long.
Hoshi stopped smiling.
His eyes immediately scanned the surrounding booths. There were way too many people. Too much noise. But it didn’t matter to him—what mattered was finding you.
But nothing.
No bobbing, happy figure. No familiar figure with a bag of donuts in hand.
Just nothing.
He was holding his breath.
“Hey,” Seungkwan said, tone quiet now. “They’re not answering their phone.”
And just like that, Hoshi wasn’t holding a banana plush anymore.
“Soonyoung—“
He broke off from the group without another word, weaving through the street like a cat with a mission. Booths blurred past, voices too loud, people too close—
Hoshi’s brain flipped into overdrive.
He spun around, mind already racing. You were good at slipping off quietly, sure, but you would always pick up your phone. You knew how much the members would yell at you for not answering, especially at a crowded, public space like this—
He was holding his breath.
And then he heard it.
“Hi, babe!!”
A voice.
It wasn’t just any voice.
It was your voice.
He turned so fast, zeroed in on the voice—
And there you were.
Hoshi let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t even realize he had been holding. He felt the tension in his shoulders relax, seeing you. You were rushing forward to greet him, waving at him. Then his eyes drifted off.. behind you.
Some guy.
Older.
Close.
Way too close.
Looking at you with the kind of expression that made Hoshi’s jaw clench.
“Aigoo, there’s my jagiya!” he blurted out, loud and singsong. His voice was just the right kind of bright—it made a few heads turn, but most importantly, it gave you an out.
His arm slung around your shoulder like you’d been dating for years.
“Hey,” he whispered quickly against your ear, soft under the noise. “Do I need to call the others?”
You shook your head.
He dropped a kiss on top of your head as if it was the most natural thing in the world. At the same time, his gaze snapped to the guy. Hoshi pulled you subtly behind him.
Now you were out of the guy’s reach.
He was in the way.
“Everything alright here?” Hoshi asked brightly. His smile stretched ear to ear—but his eyes?
Pure warning.
The stranger faltered. “I—uh—was just—”
Hoshi tilted his head.
“Oh, cool,” he said cheerfully, still smiling, despite the fact that the guy didn’t even finish his sentence or form a proper one.
“You can leave now, man,” Hoshi added, all warmth gone from his voice.
Still polite. But firm. Eyes steady. Voice low.
The man faltered, caught off guard.
“Didn’t realize they were—yeah, okay, whatever,” the guy mumbled, backing off with an awkward hand raise.
Gone.
Hoshi waited a beat. Then one more. Just to be sure.
The moment he was gone, Hoshi’s arm dropped slightly—but his hand found yours and held it.
“Hey,” he murmured, suddenly very quiet. “You okay?”
You gave him a nod.
“You sure?” he pressed, voice gentler than before. “Really really sure?”
You playfully rolled your eyes at him, bumping your head against his arm with a little huff. He grinned again, this time genuine.
You didn’t say any words—but this?
This was enough for him.
His whole body exhaled.
“Good. You’re safe now.”
Then a pause.
With perfect timing, Hoshi then continued:
“AND YAHHH—don’t ever vanish mid-fishcake again?? I was gonna give you the last bite but nooo, you had to go flirting with creeps.”
You smacked his arm with a dramatic gasp.
“HEY! You started the ‘babe’ thing first!” he said, laughing now, spinning you in a little circle. “I was just being a good fake boyfriend! I was a super convincing boyfriend, right?”
“Sure,” you muttered jokingly, dragging out the ‘e’. “You kissed my forehead.”
“Yah, you’re lucky I didn’t propose.”
“I would’ve seriously just left you then and there.”
“Romance is dead,” he muttered, mock-pouting.
He tugged you gently. “Now c’mon, banana plushie and I were getting lonely.”
As he safely brought you back to the group, he didn’t drop his arm from your shoulders. Not even once.
Not even when Seungkwan shouted, “YAH! Did you guys actually start dating or I need to know before you block both of you for not telling me?!”
But the next time, you walked through a crowd or public, Hoshi didn’t let go of your hand—making sure to stay by your side at all times.
Not leaving.
Not even once.
⭑.ᐟ Jeon Wonwoo
The sun sat warm against the summer air, casting golden light over the cobbled market streets. The kind of light that made everything feel easier—soft, alive.
“Hold still,” Vernon said, aiming his phone at Mingyu, who was flexing dramatically next to the takoyaki stand.
Dokyeom cackled behind them, shaking a drink can like a maraca. “Okay but look at Jun—he’s still salty from the photo booth.”
Jun scoffed, arms crossed. “I blinked once and you used that picture as your lock screen. I demand justice.”
“Live with it, I looked like trauma,” Seungkwan muttered blankly as prior at the photobooth Hoshi, somehow, had convinced Seungkwan to wear matching novelty sunglasses shaped like chili peppers.
“I looked hot. Literally.” Hoshi, added mid-pose with his banana plush, struck a heroic stance. “But I’m winning this entire day.”
“Because you kidnapped a plushie?” Woozi said dryly.
“Kidnapped? I rightfully earned this, excuse you,” Hoshi dramatically gasped, clutching his heart as if he’s been offended. “I’m a father now.”
The group laughed, falling into their usual chaos—loud, teasing, playful.
But in the middle of it all… Wonwoo blinked.
He turned slightly, subtle—not even fully realizing why at first. Just a small twist of instinct.
Something was missing.
You.
He hadn’t heard your voice in a while. Not your usual quiet giggle or the way you softly repeated jokes to yourself two beats after everyone else. No bounce in your steps, no faint tug on someone’s sleeve.
His gaze scanned the group.
No sign of you.
Then he remembered—you’d said something earlier. A casual comment to Woozi, just before slipping away:
“Be right back. Gonna grab donuts.”
That had been… maybe ten minutes ago.
Not long, technically. But enough.
A prickle of unease unfurled in his chest.
His posture subtly shifted.
Wonwoo was never the first to panic—never the loudest, never the one to call attention. But he’d spent enough time watching people to recognize when something didn’t feel right.
And the air was different now.
“Are you going to go look for Y/N?”
Wonwoo blinked in surprise—not expecting the sudden voice, he glanced over to his right to see Jeonghan staring up at him. Wonwoo could only assume he had noticed Wonwoo looking around, in search of you.
“..Yeah.”
“You can go ahead. I’m getting concerned too. They haven’t answered our texts. I’ll let the group know you left, text me if you find them.”
Wonwoo nodded, stepping away from the group without saying much, moving like a shadow through the crowd.
It didn’t take long.
Down a quieter alley between booths—that’s where he saw a familiar figure.
You.
Stiff. Uncomfortable. Your hands at your sides, sleeves twisted in your fingers, walking away. And tailing behind you—
A man.
Smiling too much. Too close in your personal bubble. Talking in a way that your shoulders tense. His voice wasn’t loud enough to hear, but Wonwoo didn’t need to.
Your smile was the wrong kind.
Tight.
Awkward.
Defensive.
You looked up just then, eyes scanning the crowd, like a silent call for rescue and locked with his.
“Hi, babe!!”
Wonwoo didn’t flinch.
He didn’t break eye contact.
He just walked straight toward you, posture calm, but gaze sharp. Wonwoo stepped between you and the guy behind you, slipping in like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“There you are,” he said softly.
Not rushed. Not loud.
But your relief was instant.
His voice was low, calm. No extra affection. No forced pet name in return.
He could tell you didn’t need that—not right now.
You needed was him.
He slipping his arm around your waist—not too tight, just enough that you’d feel it. Feel grounded.
Then he turned.
“Can I help you?” he asked the man.
His voice wasn’t angry. Wasn’t raised. But there was something about it—something low and precise, like a blade pressed flat against a table.
The guy hesitated.
“I was just talking to them,” he mumbled. “Didn’t realize they had a boyfriend.”
Wonwoo tilted his head slightly.
“You realize now?”
Silence.
The man faltered. Licked his lips. Took one step back.
The air between them turned cold—heavy.
“…Didn’t realize they were taken,” he swore, muttering under his breath, trying for a shrug that looked more like retreat.
Wonwoo didn’t move until he was gone.
Didn’t break any eye contact.
Another beat of silence—long, tense.
Then the man turned and left, fast.
You didn’t speak.
Neither did he.
Not until you two were fully alone.
Then he looked at you.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
You nodded once, and that was enough.
“That guy touched you?”
His voice was still soft—but different now.
Sharper. Quieter. Like the edge of a blade glinting under low light.
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head immediately.
Wonwoo nodded once.
Just once.
They stood there for a moment—quiet, tucked into the soft edge of the alley, shielded from the noise. He didn’t press. Didn’t ask for details. Just waited.
Finally, you let out a slow breath. One hand brushed his coat sleeve in silent thanks.
“Next time,” Wonwoo said gently, “I’ll come with you.”
A pause.
“…Even if it’s for donuts,” he added.
Your laugh was small—but real this time.
His arm stayed firm around your waist as he walked you back to the group of chaos where you rightfully belong—with them.
And Wonwoo made sure not to leave your side for the rest of the day.
⭑.ᐟ Lee Jihoon (Woozi)
He didn’t mean to lose track of you.
It wasn’t like you had vanished—you had said it clearly, even tugged gently on his sleeve when the group was getting distracted by a street magician pulling corndogs out of a hat.
“Donuts,” you’d whispered with a smile. “Be right back.”
And Woozi, eyes half on the chaos and half on his phone, had nodded.
“Okay. Text me if you need anything.”
Then he got pulled into Hoshi and Seungkwan’s debate over whether or not Seungkwan could legally be classified as ‘street-famous.’
“People cry when they meet me!
“They cry because you charge them for your autograph—“
“Marketing genius!”
Then a some point, a balloon vendor had exploded a confetti-filled heart right over Joshua’s head. Vernon even muttered: ‘It’s symbolic.’
The next thing Woozi knew, ten minutes had passed.
Then twelve.
Then fifteen.
And his gut twisted.
No message.
No calls.
Nothing.
Just a growing itch in his chest.
It wasn’t like you to be gone that long. Especially without an update text that you got the donuts or were heading back.
He didn’t announce he was leaving—he just moved. Silent. Quick. The group barely noticed as he stepped out of the circle. Truthfully, he probably should’ve at least briefly told one of them that he was stepping out, but he didn’t care.
His brain scanned through worst-case scenarios like files in a drawer.
What is you had gotten lost?
What if you had gotten hurt?
What if you managed to lose your phone?
What jf you had fell down, proceeded to get hurt, and lose your phone in a matter of seconds?
What if—
Then he heard it.
A voice.
High, bright, strained.
“Hi, babe!!”
‘Babe..?’
Woozi’s feet froze mid-step.
He knew your voice. He knew what it sounded like when you were excited, or shy, or sleepy, or teasing.
This?
This was none of those.
This was forced.
And you had never called anyone ‘babe.’
Not even as a joke.
He turned sharply toward the sound.
There you were.
His eyes met yours.
When your eyes saw him, they lit up with unmistakable relief. Your eyes were pleading. Wide. Trying to communicate without giving yourself away.
Then he saw.
Someone else.
A man.
Following you, like he belonged there.
He didn’t.
And Woozi knew it.
His expression didn’t shift. But inside, something burned.
Without a word, he walked straight up.
He moved.
Fast.
No announcement, no raised voice.
Just suddenly there.
Woozi stepped in beside you without missing a beat.
“Babe,” he said flatly, tone bored but meaningful. He tugged you gently behind him. His grip wasn’t tight—just enough to move you out of the guy’s line of sight. “You weren’t answering. You good?”
He didn’t look at the guy.
Not yet.
The man blinked. “Oh—uh, didn’t realize they were with someone—”
“They are,” Woozi cut in. Finally looking at him.
A pause.
Then he raised a single brow.
“Problem?”
No malice.
No volume.
Just flat.
Sharp as a blade.
The air dropped five degrees.
The man’s eyes flicked down, then backed up like he wasn’t sure if Woozi was bluffing—or processing target locations. The man shifted, coughed awkwardly.
“…Nah. My bad.”
Woozi didn’t move.
Didn’t nod.
Didn’t thank him.
He just stood there—expression unreadable, presence sharp.
The guy left.
Fast.
Once he disappeared around the corner, Woozi exhaled once—slow and quiet—before glancing back at you. You exhaled shakily. You were still tucked slightly behind him.
“You okay?” Woozi turned to you, expression softening a fraction, he briefly scanned the area as if expecting a second threat.
You nodded, shoulders finally dropping. “He kept trying to follow me. I didn’t wanna make a scene.”
“You should’ve screamed,” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing. “I would’ve decked him.”
You blinked, a little startled. “You would’ve?”
He gave you a look.
“Y/N. Even if I write songs for a living, it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to throw a punch. I go to the gym.”
That made you laugh—breathless, soft, the sound of adrenaline melting off your skin.
He looked at you a moment longer, then glanced down at your empty hands.
“…Where’s the donuts?”
You blinked, startled. Then your entire face fell.
“I… dropped them.”
Woozi blinked.
“…You dropped the donuts?”
“I panicked.”
A small snort—a mixture of amusement and disbelief, escaped Woozi's lips. Not towards you but rather at the sheer absurdity of how ridiculous it was. He shook his head slightly.
Woozi swiftly slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his card—his black card, holding it out for you to see.
“Let’s go get more. I’ll stand behind you this time.”
You smiled, and this time, it reached your eyes.
As they walked back toward the main street, Woozi’s hand brushed yours once.
Deliberately.
He didn’t take your hand.
Just made sure it was there.
He didn’t say anything else. But as they walked back to the stalls with new donuts, he stayed closer than usual.
why jihoon is the perfect lowkey hang guy (according to the voices in my head).
WARNINGS: fem!reader (emphasis in a feminine presence in his life), kind of friends to hook up, smut, body fluids (cum), masturbation (f. & m.), fingering, blowjob, penetration, creampie, semi-public sex, spanking, vibrators, will make you rethink your standards, will ruin casual relationships for you. 4.4k words.
A/N: his is a drabble, not a fic btw, it’s messy, rushed, and honestly kinda poorly written, so, please lower your expectations 😭 i’m trying to come back slowly after a long hiatus. i’ve been working a lot lately n got married (that’s the reason i disappeared for so long). sorry for going quiet with no updates, truly, and thank you for sticking around anyway!! i missed y’all so fucking much, i swear. hope you still enjoy this little thing 🖤 THE BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN
jihoon is literally the perfect person to sneak around with in a big friend group or even at work/college, and it’s actually insane how nobody talks about it properly. like when you’ve got a whole damn crowd around you 24/7; people loud as fuck, always touching your stuff, always opening doors without knocking, always asking “where you going?” like they’re the damn FBI.
if you ever wanted something secret, something private, something that feels more intimate, you’d pick jihoon every single time, trust me, because he’s not messy with it. he’s not loud. he’s not showy. he’s not that annoying type that needs everyone to know he’s getting some pussy. he’s quiet, discreet, and the scariest part is he’s so naturally like that, it doesn’t even feel like he’s hiding. it just feels like he’s existing in his own world.
and it’s not even giving “i’m a bad boy, i’ll ruin your life bc im cold” either. i know people love forcing that “cold” vibe onto him, but it’s so fucking fake. if you’re already part of the group, if you’re not some random outsider trying to insert yourself, he’s not gonna treat you like a disposable secret. he’d treat you like a choice, like it’s not just convenience.
you should tell when someone’s just bored versus when someone actually wants you. and jihoon it’s the type that can look bored at everything in the world and still make you feel picked out like you’re the only thing in the room that makes sense.
it starts small, it’s you two sharing the same couch after everyone’s done screaming and laughing, the air smelling like ramen cups and energy drinks and that weird body spray someone keeps overusing. you’re tired, you’re scrolling on your phone pretending you’re not watching him from the corner of your eye. he’s got that calm face on, like nothing reaches him, like everything slides off.
but then you notice how he does notice things. the tiniest shit. you shifting your leg. you huffing because somebody left the window open and now it’s freezing. you rubbing your temple like you’ve got a headache. he doesn’t ask “are you okay?” just makes it better in the quietest way possible, like he’s patching you up without letting anyone catch him doing it.
and you’re sitting there thinking, god, this is exactly why he’d be perfect for secret anything. because he doesn’t make it a production. you could literally disappear with him for ten minutes and no one would realize it was a thing. it would just look like life happening. “oh, jihoon went to grab something.” “oh, y/n went to the bathroom.” nobody would connect the dots because jihoon doesn’t leave crumbs. he’s not that guy getting cocky and walking back into the room with that smug look on his face like “yeah i just did that.” noooooo absolutely not. he walks back in like he never left, like nothing happened, like he’s always been sitting there like he’s the safest liar you’ve ever met, except it doesn’t even feel like lying because he’s not doing it to hurt anyone.
and honestly, if you ever got into that kind of situation with him, some little after-hours slip, some “we should go somewhere quieter” moment, you wouldn’t even feel scared. not in a bad way. you’d feel that buzzy, stupid adrenaline like you’re in on a secret joke with the universe. the kind that makes your skin feel too tight, like you’re wearing your own body wrong,, you’d be walking behind him down a hallway that’s too bright, past a bunch of doors that all look the same, thinking about how ridiculous this is because you’re literally just walking and yet it feels filthy. it feels like you’re doing something you’re not supposed to, just because he’s the one leading the way and he’s not saying shit about it.
and you know what would absolutely fuck you outt? it wouldn’t be some big dramatic move. it’d be the quiet stuff, like him stopping in front of a door, checking behind him out of habit, and you realizing he’s doing it for you. like he’s making sure you’re safe before anything else. and you’d hate that you love it, because it’s way too intimate for something you’re pretending is casual, it’s way too boyfriend-coded for a situation that’s supposed to be nothing.
and i truly don’t think he’d have the courage to look you dead in the face and go “this is just sex, don’t catch feelings.” like… be so serious. jihoon? saying that out loud? absolutely not. he’d rather chew glass. he’d rather stare at the wall and quietly suffer. because if it’s you, if you’re already part of his everyday, already someone he trusts enough to be around when he’s tired and unfiltered, he’s not going to want to reduce you to nothing, do you get me?
he might try to act like it’s simple at first, like it’s contained, like it’s just a fun little secret you both keep tucked away. but he’s a romantic man, i’m sorry, i KNOW it in my bones. he’s the type that gets attached in the most inconvenient way possible, like a song getting stuck in your head. he won’t admit it until it’s already too late, until he’s already thinking about you when you’re not there, already noticing your absence like it’s a missing piece of his routine.
because you’re different in his life. you’re not one of the boys, and that matters, not in a weird gender-war way, but in a real, human way. there’s something about the way you exist that changes the air around him. you bring this female caring energy (without momming ofc), this vividness that doesn’t feel loud but feels warm, like a lamp turned on in a dark room. you notice when he’s quiet for too long. you offer him the last bite of something without making it a big deal. you ask him if he ate. you tease him in a way that doesn’t embarrass him. you look at him like he’s not just “jihoon from the group” but like he’s a whole person. and that kind of attention, that kind of softness, sticks to him, it worms its way into his life and makes a little nest there.
so yeah, if you start sneaking around with him, it wouldn’t be this explosive, messy, public thing. it’d be small, it’d look like nothing from the outside, but it would feel like everything when you’re inside it.
it’d be late, everyone half-asleep or distracted, some dumb movie playing in the background that nobody’s actually watching. and you’d catch him watching you instead, just for a second, just that quick flick of his eyes, and it would hit you like a punch; oh, maybe he wants me?? not like a random urge. like a choice he’s making over and over. and you’d feel your stomach drop because you’d realize you want him too, in that stupid, greedy way that isn’t just about seeex.
and the secret would become this thing you carry around all day like a little spark in your pocket. you’d be standing in the kitchen with the others, nodding along to some conversation you don’t care about, and you’d feel jihoon behind you, close enough that you can sense him without turning around. he wouldn’t touch you, obviously, he’s not reckless. but the suspense would be there anyway, humming under your skin, and it would be so fucking hot, honestly, because nothing’s happening and yet everything is happening. your brain would be screaming, your face would be neutral, and he’d be acting normal like he’s not the reason your thoughts are filthy as hell.
and then when you finally get a moment alone again ,just a sliver of privacy, it would feel like exhaling after holding your breath all day. like you can finally be real for five seconds. and he’d still be quiet and calm. but the second you’re close enough, it would be obvious; he’s been thinking about it too, he’s been holding it in too, he just does it better than anyone else!!
and that’s why he’s perfect for it. because he can keep a secret without making you feel like one.
he’d let you invade his routine in the softest ways, he’d make room for you like it’s accidental, like it’s nothing, but suddenly you’re always there, your charger plugged into his outlet, your hair tie on his wrist, your hoodie on his chair. and he wouldn’t say “stay.” he wouldn’t even ask tbh, he’d just keep leaving the door open for you, again and again, until you realize you’re not sneaking around anymore.
and since you know i'm not the best with fluffs, here's the SEX part you've been waiting for;
jihoon would never rush it, that’s the first thing you gotta understand. he’d take his sweet fucking time even when the clock’s ticking and the rest of the dorm could BARGE in any second. he’d have you backed up against the wall in some random empty bathroom while everyone enjoyed the airbnb your group of friend rented for the weekend, your back pressed to the cool tiles, legs already shaking before he even touches you properly.
he’d start slow, always. hand sliding up your thigh under your skirt, the tip of his fingers dragging lazy circles on the inside until you’re squirming. “stay still,” he’d mutter quietly, not even looking at your face yet, just watching his own hand disappear under the fabric. he’d hook your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off, because why waste time when he already knows exactly how wet you are for him.
and you would be dreeenched. he’d feel it the second his fingertips brush your folds, slick, hot, coating him immediately. he wouldn’t say anything about it at first, just let out this quiet, almost annoyed little breath like he can’t believe how easy you get for him. then he’d drag those two fingers up, collecting all that wetness, spreading it over your clit in the slowest, softest circles. not pressing hard, just gliding, teasing the hood, letting your own slick make everything slippery and obscene.
jihoon would watch your face the whole time, eyes half-lidded, lips parted just enough that you can see the tip of his tongue when he swallows. he’d notice every twitch, how your hips jerk when he circles just right, how your breath hitches when he drags the pad of his middle finger flat over the swollen little bud. and when your clit’s already hard, puffy, standing out like it’s begging, he would get mean in the gentlessst way possible.
he’d focus right on the tip. that tiny, hypersensitive peak. using just the lightest pressure, barely there, feather-soft, rubbing tiny, tight circles with the very tip of his finger, using your own wetness to make it glide smooth. no rough friction, no pinching.
you’d feel that hot agony that’s almost too much, the kind that makes your thighs clamp around his wrist even though you’re dying for him to keep going. he’d feel you clench around nothing, see your back arch off the wall, and he’d still keep that exact same rhythm, eventhough you are moving a lot. “breathe,” he’d whisper, free hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw like he’s soothing you through the torture. but he doesn’t stop, actualyl he NEVER stops when you’re like this.
jihoon would lean in then, lips brushing your ear. “you’re dripping down my wrist, feel that?” he’d let his fingers slide inside, just enough to push it all back inside you, slow and a bit shallow, barely two knuckles deep, while his thumb stays glued to your clit, still working that tiny point in the same feather-light circles. the contrast would fit perfectly; the stretch of his fingers filling you up, the maddening tease on your clit.
your knees would buckle. you’d grab his shoulders, nails digging in, trying to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. that great, curling agony would hit, making your vision blur and your breath come in pathetic little gasps. he’d feel you start to flutter around his fingers, walls pulsing, and that’s when he’d finally press just a fraction harder on your clit, still light, but enough to tip you over.
“let it happen, hm?” he’d murmur, voice so fucking calm while you’re falling apart. “i’ve got you.” and he would. he’d keep rubbing through it, drawing it out until you’re shaking, whimpering into his neck, thighs trembling so bad he has to pin you against the wall with his body so you don’t slide down.
also,, jihoon would be the absolute fucking menace when you're stuck in those tight spots, like crammed in a van on a road trip with the whole crew, or holed up in some shitty hotel room where the walls are paper-thin and your friends are giggling in the next room over. he thrives on that shit, the risk of getting caught without actually blowing the cover. he'd wait until everyone's dozing off or distracted, maybe during a late-night drive when the music's low and the highway hums under the tires, or after lights out when the only sounds are snores and muffled whispers.
he'd start subtle, always. sliding his hand over your thigh under the blanket in the back seat, fingers inching higher while he stares out the window like he's lost in thought while he is feeling you tense up because you know exactly where this is going. “relax,” he'd whisper, lips brushing your ear as he leans in like he's just adjusting his seat. his fingers would dip under your shorts or skirt or pants or idk, no rush, just tracing the seam of your panties until you're shifting, trying not to make a sound.
and here's where he gets nasty as hell, he'd never hush those wet sounds. fuck no. he'd tease you on purpose, dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting that slick that's already building because let's be real, being this close to him in secret always gets you going. he'd circle your clit lightly at first, then dip inside, curling just enough to make you clench, and that's when it starts; that obscene, creamy schlk schlk schlk every time he pumps in and out. loud enough in the quiet space that your face burns, but he fucking loves it. his eyes would flick to yours.
if you try to clamp your thighs shut to muffle it, he'd pry them back open with his free hand, shaking his head slightly. “don't,” he'd mutter, holding your gaze so you can't look away. he'd keep that rhythm going, fingers fucking into you deeper, wetter, making sure every thrust pulls out that filthy, squelching noise, like your pussy's betraying you right there in front of everybody.
and if you're traveling solo with him, he'd amp it up. pull you into his lap in the hotel bed, sheets tangled, and fuck you slow and deep, no condom because why bother. he'd grind in balls-deep, stirring his cum inside you from the last round, turning it all creamy and messy, that schlk turning into a full-on sloppy symphony.
he'd hold his moans back, biting his lip until it's white, jaw clenched tight so only these quiet, guttural grunts slip out. but if you get too loud, gasping or whimpering, his hand would clamp over your mouth firm but gentle, fingers pressing just enough to remind you. “shh, y/n,” he'd breathe, eyes locked on where he's disappearing inside you, mesmerized by the way your wetness coats him, strings of it pulling every time he draws back. the wet smacks, the creamy churn, he'd never try to drown them out. he'd slow down on purpose sometimes, pulling almost all the way out just to slam back in and make it echo louder, like he's moaning through the noise itself, each one pulling a stifled groan from his throat.
if u get ashamed, he'd eat that up. he'd see it on your face, cheeks flushed, eyes squeezing shut like you can't handle how embarrassing it is, how your body's so loud and needy, and it'd turn him on more. “look at you,” he'd whisper, free hand tilting your chin so you have to watch too, “so fucking wet for me, can't even hide it.” he'd tease you mercilessly, thumb rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts to make you gush even more, if it's a creampie situation, he'd pull out halfway through your orgasm just to watch his cum mix with yours, then push back in slow, savoring the extra gush that comes with it, like he's painting you from the inside.
jihoon would never fake like he hates it.
another thing is that i think jihoon would lose his entire fucking mind the second you drop to your knees in his studio. door locked, purple light on, beats paused mid-loop because he can’t focus anymore with you looking up at him like that. he’d be slouched in his chair, legs spread just enough, sweatpants pushed down to mid-thigh, cock already hard and leaking because you’d been teasing him for the last hour with little touches and glances while he tried to work.
your hand wrapped around him, stroking lazy and firm, thumb swiping over the tip to spread the precum. but the real shit starts when you dip lower. when you cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm, feeling how heavy and tight they are. jihoon would suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, head tipping back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut for a second like he’s trying not to come right then.
“fuck… yeah, right there,” he’d mutter, one hand sliding into your hair, fingers flexing like he needs something to ground himself. you’d lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, then take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, but you’d keep playing with his balls the whole time, squeezing lightly, tugging just enough to make his hips twitch, massaging them in slow circles while you bob your head.
that gets him… inspired? not just the wet heat of your mouth, though that’s already killing him. it’s the attention to his balls, the way you cradle them like they’re just as important, the soft hum you make when you feel them draw up tighter. he’d start breathing harder, little choked-off sounds slipping out despite how hard he tries to stay quiet.
sometimes he wouldn’t even let you finish him with your mouth. he’d pull you off gently, hand replacing yours on his cock, jerking himself fast and sloppy while you keep fondling his balls, pressing your lips to the sensitive skin right above them, kissing and licking while he watches you with dark, blown-out eyes. the sight of you down there, devoted, shameless, worshipping that part of him, he’d come hard, spilling over his fist and your fingers, thighs shaking, a quiet, broken “fuck” punched out of him.
after, he’d just sit there panting, staring at you like you rewired his brain. he’d pull you up into his lap, kiss you messy and grateful, muttering against your mouth, “you have no idea what you just did to my next track.” because hes somehow already hearing it in his head, som slow, filthy bassline, heavy and pulsing, inspired by the way you made him feel completely fucking owned in the best way.
also, i think jihoon isn’t the type to walk around with a mile-long list of kinks and fetishes tattooed on his brain. he doesn’t need a whole playbook of crazy shit to get off. most days, just the sight of you with hair messy, lips swollen from kissing, thighs trembling because you’re already soaked just from grinding on his lap, is more than enough to make him hard and horny!!
but the second you whisper something you’re curious about, something that makes your cheeks burn when you say it out loud, he doesn’t even blink. no judgment, no “really? that’s your thing?” he just nods once, and goes, “okay. show me what you want.”
vibrators? he’d pull one out of the drawer like he’s had it waiting, lube already on the nightstand because he’s always prepared. he’d hold it against your clit while he fucks you slow and deep, watching your face the whole time, adjusting the speed until you’re arching and whining his name. spanking? he’d flip you over his knee without a word, palm warm and heavy, starting light and building until your ass is pink and stinging and you’re dripping down your thighs. he’d rub soothing circles after every few smacks, kissing the back of your neck.
he’d try anything once if it’s something you’re into; bondage, edging, roleplay, even the weirder stuff you’re too shy to google. he’d ask questions quietly beforehand: “how hard? how long? tell me if it’s too much.” and he’d stop the second you tap out, no questions, no guilt-tripping, just pull you into his chest and holding you until your breathing evens out.
and i just know his after care is the best of the best. he’s not performative about it, he doesn’t make a whole production. he’d reach for the wet wipes he keeps right there on the nightstand, warm ones because he thought ahead and popped them in the microwave for ten seconds. he’d clean you up so gently, wiping between your thighs, your stomach, anywhere that’s sticky, while you’re still boneless and floating. if you slump right after, too fucked out to move, he’d just tuck the blanket around you, kiss your forehead, and grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “drink a little, baby,” he’d say, voice soft, holding it to your lips until you take a few sips.
sometimes he’d even give up his own shit just to make sure you’re happy. like that one time you mentioned offhand that you hate sleeping in complete darkness because it makes you anxious; he started leaving the little desk lamp on low, even though he usually needs pitch black to crash after late nights. or when you said you get cold easy after sex, he’d pull out an extra hoodie, his favorite black one, and drape it over you before you even ask. he’d let you steal his pillow because you like the way it smells like him, even if it means he’s contorting himself around you all night.
he’d skip his usual post-sex shower if you’re clingy and just want to be held, staying sticky and sweaty with you curled against his chest. he’d even pause his music production for the night if you’re in the mood to talk or cuddle instead of him disappearing into the studio. “i can finish the track tomorrow,” he’d mumble into your hair, arms tight around you like letting go isn’t an option.
if things go riiight, jihoon would be so fucking exclusive the second he realizes he actually likes you, not just the surface-level, you’re hot and fun shit.
it wouldn’t be dramatic, no big declarations, no posting cryptic lyrics on his insta story. but hed realize with the way he stops replying to flirty dms overnight. the way his phone stays face-down when you’re around because he doesn’t want you thinking there’s anyone else pulling his attention. he’d delete dating apps without a word, not because he’s trying to prove something, but because the thought of even scrolling through them feels pointless when you’re right there.
sex with him would hit different because of that exclusivity. every time he touches you, it’s like he’s saying “this is only for you.” he’d look at you like you’re the only person in the world who’s ever made him feel this way, eyes soft but burning, hands mapping your body like he’s memorizing it for keeps. he’d whisper your name against your skin like it’s sacred, like saying it out loud is a privilege he doesn’t give anyone else. and when he’s inside you, slow and deep, holding eye contact, it’s sooo “i chose you and i’m not choosing anyone else” way.
you’d feel exclusive down to your bones. the way he remembers exactly how you like to be touched, the little spots that make you gasp, the rhythm that makes your toes curl. he’d never rush, never half-ass it, because to him, time with you is rare and precious! even if it’s quick and sneaky in the studio or the back of a car, he makes sure you come first, always, like it’s his personal mission.
and here’s the mature part that i absolutely LOVE about him; he wouldn’t pressure you for more. if you’re not ready to date date, if you just want this secret, steady thing that’s yours and his, he’d hold it for years without complaint. no guilt trips, no “what are we?” ultimatums. hed just keep showing up the same way he was from the very beginning, reliable, attentive, exclusive. texting you goodnight even if he’s halfway across the world on tour. sending you random voice notes of beats he made that remind him of you. slipping into your bed at 3am after a long day, wrapping around you without needing to talk about it. it’d be this unspoken agreement that you’re each other’s safe place, no labels required.
but if one day you decide you do want more? if you look at him across the room and think “fuck, i want this for real”? he’d try. god, he’d try so hard. he’d sit you down, quiet and serious, and say “i’ve been waiting for you to be ready. if you want this, i’m all in.” and it would be awesome. he’d be the boyfriend who plans lowkey dates that feel like home; late-night drives, studio sessions where you fall asleep on his couch, cooking together at 2am because neither of you can sleep. he’d hold your hand in public without hesitation, introduce you to his family like you’ve always been there, make space in his life like you were always meant to fit.
either way…whether it stays this beautiful, mature, exclusive secret for years, or turns into something official, he\d make you feel chosen. every. single. day.
Summary - The one where your love language is physical touch, and your boyfriend hates touch.
Tags: Lee Jihoon x (dramatic) f.reader, fluff, established relationship au
Warnings: none for now
Word Count: 2.5k
A's Note: I love this kind of themes as my love language is also touch. I am going to write more of this since I can't get enough of it. Click here for part 2.
The table gets rowdier, the drinks sloshes out of the glasses, chopsticks clanking against the steel bowls and plates. To confess you are a little disappointed. You poke the meat on your bowl of rice with the chopsticks, resting your cheek on your propped up palm.
Jihyun, your friend, realises the distress consuming you gives a nudge to your knee. “It’s okay.”
You nod, eating the meat, watching your boyfriend from the corner of your eye. Jihoon is diligently chewing on his food, eyes on his friends who are singing and dancing. Your relation with him sprouted one month ago, shy confessions exchanged at a corner table in diner. What you thought a love confession would end with a fiery kiss, at least at your flat if not for the wonky diner, but he just dropped you home with a soft smile and a good night.
Jihoon isn’t big on physical touch or sweet words—the exact opposite to you. Opposites attract, they do, you were pulled in for his calm demeanour and handling issues with chill where you would be wreaking havoc for even a minor disruption. What they don’t say is that extreme opposites also can’t gel well.
Soonyoung, one of his friends, stumbles towards your boyfriend looping his arm around his shoulder only to get shoved off. He just laughs off at his friend’s disgust, and swallows him in a hug. He skips away before Jihoon can kill him with chopsticks.
You avert your eyes to your friend who nods in compassion. You lean your cheek on her shoulder, kicking the floor under the table. He is supposed to sit beside you and not away. He is supposed to be holding your hand and you shouldn’t be seeking support from your friend. You should be kissing and not be scared of getting shoved away.
A sigh escapes your lips watching your man, he is fucking hot. The cat eyes are sharp enough to catch every single movement, his pink lips are your favourite out of all, if only you could get a minute with them. His column of neck haunts your dreams leaving you gasping for air. His broad and thick shoulders, and his chest are the root cause of your despair. So close yet so far.
His gaze flits from his friends’ mischief to yours. You feel your heart in your throat getting pink under his attention. He watches your friend patting your head as you nuzzle closer into her.
“Do you want some alcohol?” She whispers in your ear to make sure you hear her over the Dokyeom’s high pitch voice.
You muffle a no, sadness taking over you as Jihoon is back to his phone, typing away. Just in case, like with a tiny little hope you check your phone to see his messages. None. An ache starts in your chest, it’s familiar to you as you recognise it from the time you had a one sided crush on him, and watching him converse with other girls (no smile, short answers but still).
“Need to pee.” You inform your friend before retrieving yourself from her warm embrace and bee line to the washroom.
You look into the mirror hung over the sink, washing your hands, mumbling some encouraging words and affirming yourself that he still likes you or else why would you two are still dating? He wouldn’t have invited you at all to this dinner, even if it was supposed to be your first date kind of thing.
You open the door once you dry off your hands and stumble a step watching Jihoon leaning against a wall scrolling on his phone. You turn around to go back into the washroom before you catch yourself and remember he is your boyfriend.
At the click of the door Jihoon looks up from his phone, a small smile on his lips. “Done?”
You nod, confused. “You can go in,” you move aside, giving him space to use the washroom.
“Nah,” he pockets his phone, “let’s go.”
He is already walking ahead not even looking back at you to see if you are coming or not. The restaurant is getting busier, all the tables are occupied with waiters and customers walking everywhere. You follow behind him, admiring his work outfit, black trouser pants and white button up shirt, sitting perfectly on his body outlining his definite shape.
A tipsy man in his fifties is laughing and talking to himself is going on his way to what you assume to be the washroom when he suddenly barks out a laugh, crashing into—Jihoon.
Jihoon is before you even before that man can knock into you. You blink at the tipsy man mumbling an apology to Jihoon and Jihoon giving a curt nod. He looks over his shoulder, “okay?”
You hum, crushing down the need to lace your arms around his waist and hide from the world behind his broad shoulders. He leads you to the table, his hands in his pockets, the long black hair strands swaying slightly with his authoritative steps.
You squeal inside, oh god why god, he is so sexy.
He sits on his chair and you dejectedly occupy the empty chair beside your friend. The night is spent with disappointment and the need to feel his warmth.
—
If you agree to Jihoon’s invitation one more time you will just fling yourself out of the window. The karaoke’s dancing lights mess with your head, Soonyoung’s melodic voice goes beyond sometimes with his enthusiasm, your ears aching. Jihyun is again at your side, offering comfort while Jihoon sat on the opposite side bench.
“Why does he invite me to all of this and not talk?” You whisper-yell to your best friend. “Maybe I should just go home.”
She gives you an aw, my poor baby expression and pats your head. To drool more at your boyfriend’s biceps and firm chest under his office shirt, you look in his direction again. Only, he is missing at his spot. Your heart sinks to your stomach, did he leave?
“Jihoon isn’t—” you pause midway, your mind stops processing when he, the man of your thoughts, sits next to you, shoving a drunk Dokyeom aside.
Jihoon smiles at you, his eyes doing that cat thing again. Not only sending your mind into a ruckus but also messing with your heart. His subtle scent infiltrates your senses, you lick your lips dropping your head to your lap.
Jihyun, a traitor under the ruse of a friend, exits towards the washroom. You are nervous, the ac is on full blast, you were feeling cold just seconds prior and now your neck is sweaty. You wanted, no, needed, his attention, and when he is sitting next to you fulfilling your wish you are as good as a scaredy cat.
Jihoon relaxes, stretching his legs and resting his arm on the ledge of the couch and around your shoulder. His arm brushing your skin whenever you fidget in your seat. You suck in a deep breath, butterflies swarming in your stomach at the proximity, and messing with your head.
Soonyoung is belting out a sad song like he is fresh out of a break up, while his girlfriend claps to the beat with starry eyes. Jihoon and you listen to whatever crap his friend circle is sprouting, pretending to be attentive to their drunken words and laughter when, in reality, you are aware of Jihoon’s finger tapping on the soft cushion, his fingers brushing your shoulder.
It is driving you to hell and beyond as you are big on giving and receiving love in physical form. And it’s the thing that had you going crazy from being unable to hold onto your boyfriend.
Jihoon has a small smile watching Dokyeom choking on a snack. Sadistic. Your stomach flutters. God, you need to get yourself checked. Dokyeom finally gets to breathe, looking at everyone with wide eyes and a hand on his neck.
You laugh, finding the whole ordeal entertaining, momentarily distracting from your troubles. Dokyeom chokes again, now on water sputtering it everywhere and you squeal, holding your stomach laughing your ass off, curling into the man beside you.
The stiffness underneath you has you stilling. You sneak a look at Jihoon, his lips are pursed into a thin line. An acidic taste sours your mouth, you mumble a sorry before you seperate yourself from him and maintain some space between you two.
Jihoon hates touch, you have seen how he shoves his friends away, how he walks with his hands folded and sees that no one is in his personal bubble. For fucks sake, he didn’t even kiss you, you being his girlfriend, the one who has every right (with consent) to touch, feel and hold.
Jihyun comes back from her washroom, frowning seeing the two of you sitting away from each other. She takes a seat on the other side of the room trying to give you the space and privacy you were craving with your boyfriend.
Now you aren’t sure if you want to be with him, not after how he reacted, his subtle rejection hurts. You make a move to go to your friend, Jihoon grabs your wrist. “Sit down.”
You frown. He adds, “please.”
He pats the space next to him telling you to sit with him. The strobe lights ache your head, the loud music and your friend circle’s loudness twists your stomach. Everyone’s having fun, except you. You are circling around Jihoon, throwing yourself in what ifs, and the fear of how you might accidentally cross your line. You did in the spur of the moment, something you couldn’t control, and you have seen the line between his eyebrows, and the press of his lips. The same distaste he has shown many times, but not to you. This isn’t how you planned your future with him.
Jihoon, perceptive of your moods and their meanings, leans into your ear whispering, “why did you want to leave?”
You clamp your hands together, knuckles pressed white, a shaky breath escaping your lips. You have to do it, you have to end this, you can’t continue living this way. “Jihoon,” you suck in a shaky breath, “we don’t match.” You gesture between you two with your finger, “we are so different.”
The unimpressed press of his lips is back, and you are scared. The cat eyes are sharp, observing each twitch in your face, the unshed tears, and he stands up, holding your hand. Surprised, you gaze at the contact, his firm grip on you shakes up the resolution in your heart. This is Jihoon, how can you go on living without him?
“Let’s go somewhere calm. Super song isn’t the right bgm for our scene.” Jihoon casually leads you outside, checking left and right, choosing to go right, and passing through the other loud karaoke rooms. In search of a quiet place, Jihoon is wandering, taking his time to find a place without people, and on the other side, you are stuck at watching how his hand slips from your wrist and slowly intertwines with your fingers, as if it fits only there, surrounded by you.
Did Jihoon initiate contact before? You are talking of ending your relationship and he is whistling while opening a broom closet. Jihoon is unpredictable. He closes the door behind you, darkness engulfing you both. He doesn’t turn on the light, and your eyes adjust to the darkness. The closet is tiny, Jihoon is resting on the opposite wall, and his body brushes against you whenever he moves.
“Why can’t we work out?” Jihoon asks, moving around to get you two comfortable, filling the dark room with the rustling of his dress shirt.
You lick your dry lips, snapping out of how firm his chest feels against yours. “We just don’t. You shouldn’t meet someone like me,” you throw your hand up, accidentally hitting his chest. God, what is he hiding in there? “You should go out and meet someone who is, who is prim and proper and someone that doesn’t have their mind full of filth.” You gasp, covering your mouth, shocked at yourself and the damn slippery mouth of yours.
Jihoon kills you with his silence. You groan, clutching your hair. This is the reason you shouldn’t communicate in person instead of sending a well framed and overthought text message. You should just blame the closeness, his hands next to your waist, leaning against your side of the wall instead of his’. How can one sane woman think in this situation?
“Since the reason is out, I’ll out myself.” You nervously chuckle to yourself. “Bye, Jihoon.” You think of giving a ninety degree bow, and realize you’ll probably headbutt him. You end with an awkward wave of hand.
“Bring your ass back here.” His words sent a shiver down your body. What?
You look over your shoulder, “what?”
He holds your shirt, pulling you back into his chest. “Where are you going?” His lips on your ear makes you grab onto his arm that’s around your waist.
“To like,” you whack your brain to formulate a good answer, “throw myself onto the road, and kiss the road as I go flying,” your mind, as expected, stopped working the moment Jihoon gives a tiny kiss on your ear followed by a low chuckle.
“I don’t want you to die,” the sudden saint to sinister Jihoon has you electrocuted, “I need to see you, be with you,” he grabs your waist slamming you back to him as you try to escape his arms, “touch you, and have filthy thoughts whenever I see you.”
You gasp, nails digging into his arm, “Jihoon,” you whimper, his lips drags across your neck, baring his teeth at the spot your shoulder meets neck, sinking his canines softly, but not quite biting. “You-you don’t like touch!”
He detaches his mouth, you whine turning around to look at him. “I don't? I didn’t know that.”
“You shove people away, you are ready to murder Soonyoung even if he breathes in your direction!” You flail your arms, “even a few minutes back when I was laughing and was all over you, you, like, glared at me. I can’t take it, I hate it when someone rejects my touch.”
“Ah,” he says, “is that why you wanted to break up.”
You nod, hitting his chin with your nose in the process. “Ah, it hurts.”
Jihoon sighs, “you could have talked it out with me instead of like breaking up with me.”
You pout, “how can I?”
“I am not big on physical touch,” he agrees, “and probably hate it when someone comes near me,” you take a step back but he pulls you into him, “but that doesn't mean I hate it with you. I never hated your touch, but instead,” he falters.
“Instead?” You ask with a bated breath.
“I crave it.” Jihoon slowly leads you to the wall, caging you between his arms, “when you were laughing, and were all over me, I was shocked,” his finger traces your face, from your temple to your chin slowly, ticklish. “I may not express it explicitly but I want only you to be in my space.”
His lips brush over yours, “no one else.” He presses them over your lips, wet and warm against your cold ones. You gasp, clutching onto his shirt, crumpling the fabric, his body is on yours, feeling all the hard ridges and the muscle.
