pairing: scoups x reader
genre: fluff, est. relationship
wc: 1.1k
a/n: i used a lip plumper for the first time. my lips look like two bums now lmao. anyhoo this is part 3 of kissy face cheol uwu
part1 part 2
"How much time do we have left?" You shout from your shared bedroom. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down the front of your outfit before reaching for the tiny tube sitting on the vanity.
The lip plumper you bought three days ago after getting influenced by a girl on TikTok with impossibly glossy lips.You grab it with a quiet hum, twisting the cap open before smoothing the cool product carefully across your mouth.
From outside the room, you hear Seungcheol's voice carrying lazily through the apartment. "Baby, we're not late yet, take your time."
You smile to yourself automatically. He says it so casually, like it's obvious he'd wait forever for you if he had to.
And honestly, he probably would.
Seungcheol has never once rushed you while getting ready. Never complained when you changed outfits four times. Never sighed dramatically or checked the clock every thirty seconds like some boyfriends did. If anything, he liked watching you get ready. Liked sitting nearby and talking to you while you did your makeup.
You give your lips one final press together before grabbing your bag and stepping out into the living room.
Seungcheol is exactly where you expected him to be—spread comfortably across the sofa with one arm resting behind his head, phone balanced in his hand while he scrolls absentmindedly through something. He's dressed already, dark jacket thrown over a simple shirt, hair slightly messy in that way that somehow only makes him look softer.
The second he hears you approach, he looks up and smiles lovingly.
"There's my girl," he murmurs, locking his phone and sitting up properly. "Ready to go, babe?"
You nod while walking toward him, already leaning down instinctively before you even stop in front of him. "Mhm."
Your lips brush against his in a quick kiss. His hand settle naturally against your waist, thumb rubbing absent circles through the fabric of your outfit before you pull away.
"Lemme just put on my heels," you mumble, pressing a kiss on his dimple.
By the time you're out, Seungcheol has already taken out the car. As you slide into the passenger seat,you see him tapping lightly against the steering wheel to the music playing softly through the speakers. The inside of the car smells faintly like his cologne and the iced coffee he insisted on grabbing earlier.
The moment you settle into your seat, he turns toward you slightly.
"You warm enough?" he asks automatically.
"Yes, dad."
"I'm serious," he says, reaching over to tug lightly at the sleeve of your jacket. "Last time you said you were fine and then stole my coat an hour later."
"That's because you're basically a human heater."
"You love it."
You do.
Instead of answering, you lean across the center console and kiss him again before buckling your seatbelt. This kiss lasts longer than the one from earlier.
Seungcheol kisses you lazily, one hand still resting on the wheel while the other comes up automatically to cup your jaw for a second. His lips are warm against yours, soft and familiar enough that kissing him feels less like an action and more like muscle memory at this point.
When you finally pull away, he looks faintly dazed for a second before starting the car properly.
The drive begins quietly.
Your phone rests in your lap while you scroll mindlessly through notifications, occasionally glancing up to look outside at the passing streetlights. Seungcheol hums softly along to the music under his breath, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.
Suddenly, you hear a tiny hiss from your side. Your brows pinch slightly, but you ignore it. When it happens again, you immediately glance up.
Seungcheol's face is scrunched slightly in confusion while he presses his lips together awkwardly. His tongue darts out to wet them before he bites lightly at the bottom one like he's trying to figure something out.
"What's wrong?" you ask.
"Dunno hun." He glances at you briefly before looking back at the road. "My lips feel weird."
"Weird how?"
"I don't know?" he tilts his head. "Like…burning?"
Your gaze drifts to his mouth,and the second you properly notice it, laughter bursts out of you so suddenly you nearly choke on air.
Seungcheol's head snaps toward you immediately. "Why are you laughing?"
"You—" you gasp between laughs, pointing uselessly toward him. "Babe, your lips."
"What about my lips?"
"Your lips got bigger." You wheeze.
"Babe stop playing." His voice drops.
"I'm serious!"
The panic on his face appears almost immediately after that. One hand flies up to yank down the vanity mirror above him while the other keeps the wheel steady. You watch his expression morph from confusion to absolute betrayal in real time.
"WHAT THE FUCK?"
The sound that leaves your mouth after that is somewhere between a laugh and a wheeze. Because his lips really are noticeably puffier now—soft and swollen and ridiculously glossy from him constantly rubbing them together.
"Oh my god," he groans, still staring at himself in horror. "Why do I look like I lost a fight with bees?"
"It's the lip plumper!" you finally manage to say. "I forgot I put it on!"
"You forgot?!" He looks genuinely scandalized. "You can transfer that stuff through kissing?!"
"I guess so!"
Despite his complaining, he keeps absentmindedly touching his lips every few seconds, brows furrowed while he processes the sensation.
Honestly, it's adorable. Especially because beneath all the whining, he still keeps leaning toward you at every red light like his body naturally gravitates in your direction.
"Babeuhhh," he whines miserably, sinking lower into his seat. "What am I supposed to do now? Your parents are gonna open the door and immediately start laughing at me."
"They are not." You place your hand over his thigh.
"Yes they are! Look at me!"
You laugh harder at the genuine panic in his voice
"They honestly don't even look that different," you insist. "Your lips were already big.”
He gasps softly, turning to look at you. "…You flirting with me right now while I'm suffering?"
You shrug casually, leaning across the center console again. This time, when you kiss him, he lets out the tiniest wounded whine into your mouth because the tingling definitely got worse but he still kisses you back immediately.
You pull away at the sound, eyes narrowing offended. "Do you not want me to kiss you?"
"When did I say that?" he mumbles instantly, pouting.
The pout only makes his lips look bigger.
You wanted laughed again. Instead, you lean in and kiss him once more. And despite the burning sensation, despite the whining, despite the fact that he keeps complaining every thirty seconds—Seungcheol still tilts toward you every single time like he physically cannot help himself.
Synopsis✨ Vanilla. It's the blandest of all the flavours. It's reliable, but boring. So how the hell are you supposed to react when your boyfriend calls you vanilla in front of his friends?! By making your point in front of your class mates, of course.
Genre✨ established relationship, fluff, smut, professor/ student, age difference
Warnings✨ age gap (she's 25, he's 34), professor/ student, public oral m. recieving, a little deep throating, he pulls her hair a little bit, cums in her mouth, she's under the desk so nobody actually sees anything
Word count✨ 3.8k
a/n✨ this is just something quick that's been in my drafts and just needed the header image doing but I LOVE professor Cheol, so I might revisit this with some drabbles at some point (:
Part 2 is here
You glare at Seungcheol across your friend’s living room wondering whether, at some point, he’ll realise that you’ve not spoken to him or anyone in over twenty minutes.
But he doesn’t. Because he’s currently holding court with everyone whilst they hang on his every word. Idiots. The end to this ridiculous story he’s telling, isn’t even that funny. Or maybe it is. It’s just his voice that’s making you grind your teeth.
Usually you love your boyfriend’s voice.
But not today.
Today it sounds like nails on a chalk board.
The reason for your current mood is simple. Seungcheol let his mouth run away from him and informed all your friends that you weren’t “risky” in the bedroom. All of them laughing and quickly moving on like it was nothing.
But to you? It stung.
You’re not a prude. And you’re not adverse to doing anything and everything your boyfriend suggests. But what he’s getting at is that you don’t want to have sex in public.
Which in your opinion, is a pretty solid line that most people would agree with you on.
Yes. You’ve had fantasies about showing off just how well Seungcheol fucks you. Or putting on a grand performance so people know just how whiney he gets when you really draw out a blow job. Especially to the girls in your class who bat their eyelashes like they have a chance with him, whilst he pretends he doesn’t notice.
But do you actually want to have sex with him, in front of other people, like you’re something you’d see at an interesting afternoon at the zoo? No you don’t.
Seungcheol’s face lit up when Woozi brought up that he and his secretary often “get busy” (his words, thankfully not Seungcheol’s) in his office whenever the mood takes them. But your boyfriend declared that it isn’t something you and he could ever do.
It was what he said next that made you want to rip his head off.
“______ is way too much of a wuss for that. She just likes everything simple..... Vanilla.”
Vanilla?!!!
He thinks your sex is vanilla?!
How fucking dare he.
Just last week you were pestering him that you wanted to try pegging. But nooooo, “I don’t think you’d like that.”. Which translates in Seungcheol language as, “I don’t like losing control and I especially don’t want to lose control when you have full access to my ass hole.”. So Mr Vanilla put an end to that discussion.
So. You’ve not spoken for the entire evening.
You don’t speak to him as you bid your friend’s farewell.
Nor do you speak to him the whole way home as he chirps along to the radio.
“You’re quiet,” he mumbles into your shoulder as he kisses you there, whilst you finish your skincare routine, his hands massaging your hips like he hasn’t got a care in the world.
His little pecks on your pyjama covered shoulder come to a grinding halt when he realises you’re not answering him.
“What’s wrong?”
The frown on his face you normally find so cute just makes you want to roll your eyes now.
How can he not know what he’s done?!
You stare at him through the mirror, not even his perfect little pout making you want to kiss it away encourages you to forgive him.
“Nothing.”
“Oh come on. I know there’s something wrong with you, you’ve got those little lines between your eyes.”
“Fuck off Cheol.”
You stomp past him, not forgetting to bang your shoulder into his and desperately try to pretend like it didn’t fucking hurt.
Stupid idiot Cheol and his stupid idiot muscles.
He plays you at your own game. He doesn’t speak, just gets into bed beside you and starts grading papers, occasionally sparing you a glance to see whether you’re caving yet. But you’re not.
How dare he say what he did?! And in front of your friends! They could’ve at least disagreed, not that they’d know what you like in bed, you haven’t known them as long as Seungcheol has. They were his friends first. But they could at least have not laughed at what he said.
Your turning of the pages of the book you’re reading becomes so loud it’s like they’re slicing through the atmosphere with a knife.
You’re not even reading at this point.
Just scowling and turning the page. Scowling and turning, scowling and turning until.......
“You’ve some fucking nerve, you know that!”
“And there it is,” Seungcheol says knowingly, slamming his pen on the pile of papers on his lap, “what nerve am I meant to have had?”
“You really don’t know?!”
“No! We had a nice evening with our friends,” you ignore the way his bicep flexes as he runs his hand through his hair, “and we’ve come home and now you’re acting like a child.”
You hate that. You hate when he calls you a child.
You and Seungcheol have been a couple for three years, you met whilst you were working as a barista in the local coffee shop and he was a lecturer at nearby university. You’d been in between writing jobs and deciding about doing a masters in journalism but couldn’t commit to anything. About a year ago, you took the plunge and started your masters.
It helped that your main lecturer was really hot.
The main lecturer (obviously) was Seungcheol.
You didn’t mind that you were a couple of years older than the other students, most of them being in their early twenties and you 25. But you never really noticed it. Seungcheol was 34 and so had that whole hot professor thing going on that you could get lost in, to help drown out the cooing of the other girls over him.
But when he calls you a child. It strikes a chord in you that reverberates nothing but annoyance.
“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“So now I’m a child and I’m boring?!”
His eyebrows knit in confusion.
“Who said you’re boring....if it’s Jihoo and her friends again, just ignore them. I was not flirting. I just picked up the nine pencils she’d very obviously dropped on purpose.”
Jihoo. One of your boyfriend's many admirers. Fuck there’s some days you want to strut up to his desk and mark him all over so that they know he’s yours. That they don’t have a chance.
But you have to keep it secret. God forbid the governors find out that two consenting adults, who knew each other before you’d even enrolled, are in a relationship.
“It’s not her. Maybe she wouldn’t be boring though.”
“I never called you boring!!”
“VANILLA AND BORING ARE BASICALLY THE SAME!!”
Silence. He just stares at you.
It takes a few more seconds for his brain to catch up with what you’ve said.
“This is about that?” He has the audacity to snicker. “It was one comment baby!”
“It was a comment about how I’m not good enough for you.....not sexy enough for you. And you expect me to just be cool about it?! To just breeze over the fact that you told everyone that I’m boring?!”
“I never said boring! And I certainly never said you weren’t sexy enough!”
He edges closer to you, so you edge a little closer to the edge. Why would he want to be near such a boring person as you?!
“Vanilla is NOT sexy. Vanilla is bland, it’s boring, it’s what you get when you need something more exciting on the side.”
“If you’re insinuating that I’m sleeping with someone else ______, we’re gonna have a massive fucking problem.”
You wonder if there’ll ever be a day where your pussy doesn’t clench when his jaw does. Shit, he always has such a hold over you even when you’re pissed at him.
And you know he’ll never cheat on you, he treats you like you’re the centre of his world. Always has.
“I’m not. But you’re insinuating that I’m boring in bed. Excuse me for feeling like shit when my boyfriend announces to everyone that I’m fucking boring!!”
“I never said boring! I just said you wouldn’t do anything in public!”
“I don’t think that makes me vanilla.” You huff, folding your arms and avoiding his eyes.
“It was the wrong turn of phrase. I’m no good with words,” his smirk makes your resolve crumble as he edges closer to you.
“You’re a journalism professor. Words are your job.”
“Damn.” He pushes you back onto the bed, hovering over you, “You’re right. But I promise baby, I didn’t mean vanilla in that way.”
“You still said it,” you mumble, willing yourself not to give in as his scent fills your senses and he kisses your jaw.
“I’m sorry.” His kisses flutter down to your neck, “forgive me?”
“What ice cream am I then?”
Fuck you love how his eyes scrunch when he smiles, your cheek is aching from biting it to stop you smiling back at him.
“Cherry.”
“You’re only saying that because you like cherries.” You roll your eyes.
“I don’t just like cherries,” he admonishes you dramatically so you can’t help but smile up at him, “I love cherries. I love how they taste, so juicy, so fucking perfect.” You purse your lips in a bid to look stoic, “honestly baby, cherry is pretty addicting.”
His hand moves up your thigh, fingers running over your pyjama short covered pussy. Eyes asking permission to let him carry on.
And you let him.
He spends the night showing you just how much he loves cherries.
But you don’t forget.
You’ll get him back for tonight. When he’s least expecting it.
Weeks go by and you never bring up the vanilla comment again. In fact, you’re pretty certain he’s forgotten he even said it.
But you haven’t
And that’s how you find yourself here. Under his desk in the lecture hall, waiting for class to start.
One part of you wants him to come in just as the class starts, then he has no way of stopping you doing what you’re about to do. But another wants him to find you beforehand because you’re nothing if not petty, and you want that ‘I told you so’ moment.
The door opens and closes and you manage to check your watch, noting it’s only five minutes before the most eager of your fellow students begin to arrive.
His chair moves, his ass meets the leather and just as his knees are heading for your face, you speak.
“Cutting it fine aren’t you, professor?”
“SHIT!!!” he squeals.
He hurls himself back on the chair, going at some speed thanks to the wheels and smacks into the chalk board. The horror on his face and the way he clutches his chest is the most satisfied you’ve felt since he made you cum three times in a row, two days ago.
“That was very butch.”
“______?!”
“No.” You answer, sarcastically, “I’m the goblin that lives under your desk.”
He wheels himself closer to you, thighs flexing deliciously as he does so.
“Why are you under there?”
He’s peering down at you, any hint of shock gone and replaced with mischief, and that one specific twinkle in his eye that’s somewhere between horny whenever he sees you on the ground in front of him, and a need to be a little shit.
“Why do you think I’m under here?” You challenge, trying to ignore the fact your ass is going numb.
Seungcheol smirks at you. He’s not going to make this easy for you. Not now he’s starting to realise what’s going on here.
“Perhaps you’ve developed a deep interest in wooden flooring?” He muses. “Shall we have our next date night at Ikea?”.
He thinks this is funny? You’re ready to risk it all and he’s making fun of you?
“Fuck off.” You try to push his chair back but he grips the desk so the wheels don’t move.
“Now ______. That’s no way to talk to your professor.”
“Well you’re being fucking annoying. Get your dick out.”
“Excuse me?! Is that any way to treat someone?! At least woo me first, take me to dinner and tell me I’m pretty!”
You just glare at him, shoulders hunched from being under the desk and one ass cheek now fully out of action.
“Come on, you’ve made your point. Get up.”
“No.”
“______,” he warns, voice low as he glances at the door, “you’ve had your fun. Everyone will be here soon.”
“Is that right Professor Choi?” You pout, fingers running up his calves and up along his luscious thighs.
“You’re not serious?”
The door opens, muffling your next words to him.
“Who’s vanilla now Seungcheol?”
He can’t reply. He can’t react at all. Because students are now flowing in and sadly for him, this whole lecture is on his computer. Which is on his desk. Which he has to sit at to use it.
Almost like you’d looked at his lesson plans and checked to see he’d be sat at his desk for today.
He greets students as they come in, trying to ignore your fingers running over his ever hardening dick. You palm him over his clothes, revelling in the way his thighs twitch slightly.
You hear Jihoo’s voice, a sickly sweet ‘Good afternoon, Professor, you look handsome today!”. You hate her. And so you react very level headedly and grind your hand down hard on his now fully hard dick.
“H-hello-o Jihoo. Please take a seat.” He jumps a little in his seat.
His hand twitches like he’s considering stopping you but his dick’s needs override his common sense and he lets you carry on.
You’ve no idea what he’s talking about but have to hold back a giggle when he raises his voice just a little to make sure that nobody hears his zipper being pulled down.
Once they’re open as far as they can, you pull his chair a little so his stomach is right against the desk, making him fluster a little but at least it means there’s no chance of anyone seeing anything.
“Is everything ok professor?”
Why can’t she just shut up?! You take his dick out of his boxers a little rougher than you intended making his voice come out a little uneven.
“F-fine! Everything is fine. Probably coming down with a cold or something!”
“I could bring you my mom’s strawberry tea if you like! She swears by it for colds.”
You can almost see the smug smile on her face thinking she’s in with a shot with the hot professor.
Before you can do anything stupid though, Seungcheol’s hand comes down to take your cheek in his hand, thumb stroking it, telling you silently that he’s only thinking of you. That her and her mother’s tea can go to hell.
You turn your brain off, your only thoughts are how pretty your boyfriend’s perfect cock looks, tip glistening with pre cum and how badly you want to make him feel good.
What Seungcheol isn’t expecting is for your mouth not to meet his tip how you know he likes. Instead your hand pumps his length whilst your the tip of your tongue runs all over his balls, teasing and toying with them whilst your hand keeps pumping his dick slowly.
His thighs are clenching, feet twitching slightly because they’re the only thing he can move without giving away exactly what’s happening.
You suck on his balls gently when your hand speeds up, the amount of precum leaking out of it making your slip that bit easier. You can’t go too hard and let everyone hear how well you’re wanking the professor off but it does make it easier to set a steady pace to drive him wild.
Once you’ve thoroughly enjoyed toying with his balls, you move on to your main course. You take his leaking bulbous tip into your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop and enjoying the familiar taste of him on your tongue.
SMACK.
Shit. Your head hits the desk when his hand lands on it in shock at how fucking good it feels to have your perfect lips around his tip.
It’s not unusual for you to give him amazing head, but today, he thinks, is on another fucking level. He’ll have to annoy you more if this is the monster it awakens in you.
You re-gather yourself making a mental note to give him a piece of your mind for patting you on the head to say sorry for your near concussion. And take him back into your mouth, tongue flat on the underside of it as you move your head up and down quickly, giddy at how much his voice is wobbling.
He can’t help himself. He always has to pretend to be in control even when he isn’t and his hand comes down to rest on your head. He isn’t pushing, the flex of his arms would draw too much attention to what’s happening, but he just needs to touch you. To feel you.
Your lips tighten around his throbbing length as you speed up a little, the position you’re in and the fact you can’t move, making you want to get him to cum just a little quicker than normal. Your hands are working overtime, one toys with his balls and the other pumps what little of him you can’t fit down your throat.
“Professor Choi?” you roll your eyes, either because of Jihoo’s fucking annoying voice or because Seungcheol’s tip hits the back of your throat making you clench at the idea of choking on him in front of the class, “_____ isn’t here. She missed class three weeks ago too. I offered her my notes but she told me to....to......f off.”
Fucking liar. You told her to get lost. Very different.
“I’ll talk to her about her language at the next student review sessions, thank you Jihoo.” His voice is a little strained but you have to give it to him, he’s staying pretty calm. “But she did email me, she said she had a sore throat.”
He crashes your head down on the word throat, his dick so far down your throat that he’s blocking your air way for a few seconds until he releases you pretty quickly.
What an asshole.
He’ll pay for that.
You speed up, lips tight around his drooling length, hands palming his balls and your pace is frantic. You know damn well you're making him lose his senses.
“J-just,” he sighs, “fill out those worksheets and hand them in to me when you’re done. It shouldn’t take l-long.”
They all divert their attention to their worksheets, giving Seungcheol some reprieve from having to form functioning sentences and thoroughly enjoy the way you mouth is milking him dry.
Your head keeps bobbing, drool streaming down your chin and his dick keeps smashing into the back of your throat from the pace you’re going at.
You can tell he’s close, his hand has your hair in vice like grip and his thighs keep twitching. Normally he’d thrust a little into your mouth but you can tell he’s desperately trying not to. A couple more bobs of your head, your tongue circling his tip a little before he thrusts once into your mouth and empties his balls deep in the back of your throat. His breathing is heavy and body rigid as his warm sticky cum glides down your throat, your hand pumping him slowly to make sure he rides out his high.
Fuck, this may not be something you want to do regularly but him filling your mouth in front of the whole class, has your pussy ruining your panties.
Once he’s done and you’ve swallowed everything he's given you, you tuck him back into his boxers, redo the zipper and pat it slightly to let him know you’re done.
He styles out his snort of laughter with a cough, his hand holding yours under desk whilst he answers various questions from your class mates.
Shit.
You didn’t think about this. What the hell do you do now?! You’re already wondering whether you’ll need to see a chiropractor because of how hunched over you are and you’ve long since forgotten what it felt like to really feel your ass.
What the hell do you do for the next 30 minutes?!
You yank your hand away from him, ignoring the little chuckle he lets out and sit like the desk goblin you mocked him about earlier.
The clock ticks. More slowly than normal you’re certain of it. But time passes none the less.
“Hey baby,” he grins at you when the last straggler (Jihoo) has left the room, moving his chair back for you to get out.
“I don’t think I can,”
You glower at him from your desk cave when you see him trying not to laugh at you.
“Come on”
He tries pull you out, your knee going from under you so you sort of half wobble, half crawl out from under his desk.
You eventually drag yourself to your feet, leaning on his desk, not being able to feel half of your body parts.
“I think I broke my ass.” You grumble, hands on his desk and not caring that it looks like you’re presenting yourself to him.
“It looks just as perfect as ever.” He snickers, hands kneading your ass cheeks and making some of the sensation come back at least.
“That feels good.”
“Good,” this must look ridiculous, him casually kneading your ass as you carry on a normal conversation, “that was pretty fucking hot baby, did so good for me.”
You turn around, taking your rightful place on his knee, way past caring if someone could walk in.
“Good. Did I prove my point?” you ask proudly.
“You did. But for the record, I never meant vanilla, I love everything we do. And this was great, but I think I agree with you about the whole no sex in public thing. My heart was pounding so fast.”
The way he smiles at you melts your heart. He is literally the most perfect man you’ve ever met.
“Yeah,” you concede, “my ass can’t go through that again. Although,” you give him a quick kiss, “is she doesn’t stop flirting with you. I will ride you like we’re at a rodeo on this desk. You’re mine. She needs to fuck off.”
His smile broadens, hands still kneading your ass.
“I love it when you’re territorial. Makes me horny.”
“Well I’ll say it again when we’re home. No more public sex for us Mr.”
“Perfect.”
A kiss.
“We do have to discuss your language though.” He laughs when he sees you glaring at him.
“I told her to get lost. Not fuck off.”
“Oh well that’s ok then!”
“Exactly.” You nod proudly.
“Come on numb bum. Let’s get you home then you can tell me I’m yours again.”
“Lead the way professor.”
Maybe being vanilla isn’t a bad thing after all. But sometimes you need that cherry swirl to liven things up a bit.
— DILF!hongjoong x fem!reader in which you thought you already had the best relationship you could ever have. until one day you found you boyfroend fucking another girl on his bed, and so what could be a better and appropriate revenge than to fuck his very handsome father.
content warnings: this fic includes detailed nsfw scenes that may be too much for some readers. includes penetrative sex, mention of cheating, dilf!hongjoong, 20 years age gap, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasm, video taping, and other scenes that might be uncomfortable for some readers. please consume what you can, and separate fiction from reality. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
a/n: HI SO YEAH HAPPY 2K FOLLOWERS AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. So as a gift to everyone, here's a dilf!joong to all my fellow atiny's in my followers list. I hope you guys enjoy this delicious fic. ACK. I LOVE YOU ALL. <333
word count: 9k words
You were a catch. A fucking catch.
Everyone on campus knew it. Jaehyun, the guy you'd been dating for the past few months, was constantly called the luckiest man alive. You heard the whispers in the hallways, the envious glances in the cafeteria, the not-so-subtle comments from his friends. But you never really paid much attention to it. You already knew your worth.
After all, you were the drum major of the university's marching band—the one who commanded an entire field with nothing but a raised hand and a sharp look. You carried yourself with a natural, domineering aura that turned heads wherever you went. Tall posture, sharp eyes, and an unshakable confidence that made people straighten up when you walked by. Most of your friends secretly envy you for it.
Your relationship with Jaehyun was far from perfect, but it was still one of the healthiest ones you'd ever had. Or at least... that's what you kept telling yourself.
He was caring in his own way. Attentive on most days, always making sure you ate before long band practices and sending you good luck texts before every game. Jaehyun wasn't the most popular guy on campus compared to you, but as a star football jock, he wasn't exactly unknown either. You two shared the same friend group, which made everything feel easy and comfortable.
It wasn't unusual for Jaehyun to go a day or two without texting. You both had busy lives, you with band rehearsals and him with football practice, so you understood. Whenever he had time, he always came back to you. That was how your relationship worked: comfortable, intact, and especially intimate when you finally got to be alone together.
You never doubted him. He always reassured you so well.
Until now.
It had been a full week since the last time you actually spoke to him in person. No late-night visits to your dorm, no sneaking in through your window with that boyish grin. Just short, dry texts. And every time you tried calling him, he would pick up only to say he was "too busy with practice" and hang up after a minute.
Something felt... off.
You tried to shrug it off at first. Jaehyun was probably just exhausted from practice. You told yourself he'd text soon, that he just needed some time to himself. Three days ago, he had sent a short message saying he was going back to his father's house for a while and wouldn't be around campus. You understand.
But that was three days ago.
Now it had been two full weeks since you last saw him in person. Two weeks of dry, replies and calls that ended within a minute. The uneasy feeling in your chest grew heavier, tightening around your throat like a chokehold.
You weren't used to this. You weren't used to doubting him.
Lucky for you, you actually knew his father—Kim Hongjoong.
He was a genuine, warm man. A single father of three who somehow still looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. At 42, Hongjoong could easily pass for someone in his early thirties. Tall, muscular, with sharp, refined features and that same devastating smile Jaehyun inherited. He was kind, attentive, and had a quiet confidence that always made the air feel a little thicker whenever he was around.
If he wasn't your boyfriend's father... well, you wouldn't have let yourself think about it.
But right now, worry was winning over everything else.
You pulled out your phone and quickly typed a message to him.
You: Hi, Mr. Kim. Sorry to bother you. I haven't heard from Jaehyun properly in almost two weeks. He mentioned he was going home a few days ago. Is everything okay? Do you know where he is?
You hit send and stared at the screen, nerves twisting in your stomach. The party noise faded into the background as you waited.
Not even a minute later, your phone vibrated.
Hongjoong: Hey sweetheart. Jaehyun isn't home right now. He said he'll be coming next week. I'm not sure why he told you he was already here...
Your stomach dropped.
He lied.
Jaehyun lied to you.
He never lied to you. Does he?
But now the doubt was creeping in, loud and ugly. Jaehyun had lied. He told you he was going home when he clearly wasn't. Why? The question twisted uncomfortably in your chest, and the fact that you couldn't even confront him made it worse. He was completely missing in action. You typed back with slightly shaky fingers.
You: Oh. I see. Thank you, Mr. Kim. If he comes home, please tell him to message me. Thank you.
Hongjoong: Of course, darling. Take care of yourself, yeah? And visit here sometimes, whenever you can.
You couldn't help but smile softly at his reply. Even through text, Hongjoong's warmth came through so easily. He really was such a sweet man, a genuinely good father. The kind of man who made you feel cared for with just a few words. For a moment, the heavy weight in your chest felt a little lighter.
You slipped your phone back into your pocket and let out a long breath, trying to push the uncomfortable thoughts about Jaehyun to the back of your mind.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady the uneasy feeling twisting in your chest.
If Jaehyun wasn't at his father's house like he claimed, then he was probably just hiding in his dorm. That had to be it. Tomorrow, you decided, you would go see him. You'd look him in the eyes and ask what the fuck was actually going on.
The next day came by so quickly.
You baked his favorite cake. Chocolate with extra frosting, hoping it would soften whatever conversation was about to happen. With the cake box in one hand and your spare key in the other, you stood in front of Jaehyun's dorm door, heart beating heavily.
You took a deep breath and unlocked the door quietly.
The moment you stepped inside, your stomach dropped. Loud, breathy female moans filled the entire dorm. The sound was unmistakable. High-pitched, needy, and very real.
He's probably just watching porn, you told yourself, trying to stay calm. He does that sometimes when he's stressed...
But something felt wrong. You walked down the short hallway, cake still in your hands, and slowly pushed open the door to his bedroom.
The sight hit you like a truck.
Jaehyun was lying on his back in the middle of the bed, completely naked. A girl you didn't recognize was on top of him, riding him hard, her head thrown back in pleasure as she moaned loudly. His hands were gripping her ass, guiding her movements while he groaned beneath her.
For a few painful seconds, you just stood there frozen, cake box trembling slightly in your hands.
Jaehyun's eyes suddenly snapped open and locked onto yours. His face went pale.
"Baby—?!" he choked out, voice hoarse. The girl on top of him let out a startled yelp and quickly tried to cover herself, but it was too late. You had already seen everything.
The cake suddenly felt heavy in your arms. The sweet smell that used to comfort you now turned your stomach. All the late replies. All the sudden "practices." All the lies about going home.
This is why.
"Kim Jaehyun! What the fuck!?"
The cake box slipped from your fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. For a split second, everything was silent except for the girl's heavy breathing. Then your blood boils.
You didn't scream. You didn't cry. Instead, you strode forward with long, confident steps, that signature domineering aura radiating off you like ice.
The girl barely had time to react before your hand shot out. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her off Jaehyun with one powerful pull. She screamed as she tumbled sideways onto the mattress.
"Get the fuck off him," you said coldly, voice low but sharp enough to cut glass. She scrambled away from you, eyes wide with shock, trying to cover her naked body with her hands. Jaehyun sat up quickly, face pale and panicked.
"Babe— wait, it's not— I can explain—"
"Explain?" You let out a bitter laugh, still holding the girl's hair tightly in your grip as you glared down at him. "You lied to me for two weeks just so you could fuck someone behind my back?"
The girl whimpered as you finally released her hair with a rough shove. She quickly grabbed her clothes and ran out of the room like her life depended on it, slamming the door behind her.
Now it was just you and Jaehyun. He looked pathetic, naked, flushed, dick still hard and glistening from another girl's pussy. The sight made your stomach turn.
You stood tall at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, looking down at him like he was nothing more than a disappointing subordinate who just ruined the entire performance.
"Two weeks, Jaehyun," you said, voice dangerously calm. "Two fucking weeks of 'I'm busy' and 'I'm at my dad's'. And this is what you were doing?"
Jaehyun's eyes widened in panic. He scrambled off the bed, still naked, and lunged forward, grabbing your wrist tightly.
"Babe, wait— please, just listen to me! It's not what it looks like, I swear! She doesn't mean anything, it was just— fuck, it was a mistake—"
You felt his grip on your wrist like fire.
With a sharp, powerful yank, you shoved him off you. Jaehyun stumbled back, nearly losing his balance.
"Don't you fucking lay your filthy hands on me!" you hissed, voice dripping with venom. "A mistake? You lied to me for two whole weeks so you could fuck some random bitch behind my back and you call that a mistake?!"
Your chest heaved with rage. Your eyes blurred as tears pooled on your eyelids, making Jaehyun shrink under your glare.
"We're done," you said coldly, staring straight into his eyes. "Don't ever call me. Don't text me. Don't even look at me. Fuck off, Jaehyun."
You turned on your heels, not even sparing the fallen chocolate cake on the floor a second glance, and walked out of his room. The sound of your footsteps echoed down the hallway as you slammed the dorm door behind you with a loud bang.
Tears burned in your eyes the moment you stepped outside, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not for him. You were done.
For the next week, Jaehyun wouldn't leave you alone.
He texted and called nonstop, even after you blocked him on everything. He showed up outside your classes, your band practice, and your dorm. Every time he tried to approach you, your friends were right there, ready to throw punches and shield you like bodyguards. They cursed him out and dragged you away before he could get close.
You stayed strong on the outside, but the betrayal still stung.
By the start of the second week, you thought it was finally dying down. Until one afternoon.
You had just finished band practice and were walking out of the campus gate when a girl stepped in front of you. It was her. The girl you had pulled off Jaehyun that day. She looked nervous, eyes red like she'd been crying.
"Can we talk?" she asked quietly. "Please... just for a minute."
You almost walked past her, but something in her expression made you stop. You crossed your arms, staring her down.
"Fine. Talk."
She took a shaky breath.
"I'm so sorry... I had no idea you existed. Jaehyun told me he was single the entire time. We'd been seeing each other for almost a month. He said he didn't have a girlfriend, that he was too focused on football to date anyone seriously." Her voice cracked. "If I had known about you... I would never have touched him. I swear."
She looked genuinely devastated.
"I feel sick knowing I was the other woman. I'm really, really sorry. You didn't deserve any of this."
For a moment, you didn't know what to say. The anger you'd been carrying suddenly felt heavier. Jaehyun didn't just cheat on you. He had played both of you.
You let out a bitter laugh and ran a hand through your hair.
"...Thanks for telling me," you said coldly. "At least now I know how much of a lying piece of shit he really is."
The girl nodded, looking ashamed, before quietly walking away. You stood there at the gate for a long time, the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement. The betrayal felt even deeper now.
For the next month, you drowned yourself in studies and band practice.
You threw everything you had into rehearsals, perfecting every count, every movement, every command on the field. At night, you buried yourself in books and assignments until your eyes burned. You barely slept, barely ate, and barely gave yourself time to think.
The whole campus knew what happened. The cheating scandal spread like wildfire. People whispered when you walked by, gave you pitiful looks in the hallways, and sent sympathetic messages. But you kept your chin up high, shoulders back, and that signature domineering aura firmly in place. You refuse to let anyone see you break. You were the drum major. You didn't fall apart in public.
Two months had passed since that awful day. You were in your dorm, surrounded by notes and textbooks, when your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen.
Hongjoong: Hey sweetheart. It's been a while. How have you been? It's already been two months since I last heard from you. I didn't even know you and Jaehyun broke up until recently... Are you okay?
Your chest tightened. You stared at the message for a long time before replying.
You: Oh. Hello, Mr. Kim. Yeah, we broke up. I'm fine though, thank you for checking me up.
Hongjoong: I'm really sorry to hear that. If you're free this weekend, why don't you come over for dinner? I'll cook. You can talk about what happened if you want to... or we can just eat and you can forget everything for a while. No pressure. I just hate the thought of you dealing with this alone, besides I know for sure whatever the reason is, it could have been my stupid son's fault.
You bit your lip, fingers hovering over the screen. Part of you wanted to say no and keep burying yourself in work. But another part, the tired, angry, emotionally drained part, desperately needed to let it all out.
You: Okay. I'll come. Thank you, Mr. Kim.
Hongjoong: Great. Come by Saturday at 6? Can't wait to see you, sweetheart.
Saturday came faster than you expected. By 6:30 PM, you were standing in front of Hongjoong's house, heart beating a little faster than usual. You had chosen one of your favorite Sunday dresses. A soft, off-shoulder cream-colored dress that hugged your figure nicely but still looked modest enough. You tugged at the hem nervously, suddenly wondering if it was too much. Too pretty. Too revealing for a dinner with your ex-boyfriend's father.
You took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
A few seconds later, the door opened. Kim Hongjoong stood there, looking unfairly good in a simple black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing toned muscles. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and when he saw you, his face lit up with a warm, genuine smile.
"You're here," he said softly, voice rich and comforting. His eyes quickly scanned you from head to toe before he caught himself and looked back at your face.
"You look great. Come in, sweetheart."
He stepped aside, letting you enter. The house smelled amazing, Garlic, herbs, and something savory that made your stomach rumble.
"I'm sorry I'm a little late," you murmured.
"Don't apologize. I'm just glad you came." He closed the door behind you, then gently placed a hand on your lower back to guide you towards the dining area. The light touch sent a small, unexpected shiver up your spine. "I made carbonara and grilled steak. Hope you're hungry."
As you followed him, the reality of the situation settled in. This was the first time you'd been here since the breakup. No Jaehyun. Just you and Hongjoong.
He pulled out a chair for you like a gentleman, then disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with two glasses of wine. Hongjoong sat across from you, his warm gaze never leaving your face.
"So..." he started gently, voice low and careful. "Do you want to eat first and relax... or do you want to tell me what really happened between you and my son?"
He leaned forward slightly, eyes full of quiet concern and something deeper you couldn't quite name.
"I'm here to listen to everything. No judgment."
You sat quietly for a moment, staring at the glass of wine in your hands. The warmth of Hongjoong's home and his gentle presence made the walls you'd built over the past two months feel dangerously thin.
"I... I'll tell you," you whispered. Hongjoong nodded, giving you his full attention. He stayed silent, patient, as you started talking.
You told him everything.
How Jaehyun had been distant for weeks. The constant excuses. The lies about being at his house. How you baked his favorite cake and went to his dorm with a spare key, hoping to fix things. How you walked in on him fucking another girl. How he had the audacity to lie and say it was a mistake.
The more you spoke, the more your voice shook.
"I kept myself busy for two months straight," you continued, tears already blurring your vision. "Studies, practice, rehearsals... anything just to stop thinking about it. The whole campus knew. Everyone was looking at me with pity and I hated it. I'm supposed to be strong, supposed to be in control... but he made me feel so stupid."
Your throat tightened painfully.
"I trusted him. I never doubted him even once. And he played me like I was nothing. He told that girl he was single the whole time. He lied to both of us."
The dam finally broke. A sob ripped from your chest. Tears streamed down your face as all the anger, humiliation, and pain you'd been holding in came rushing out at once.
"I feel so pathetic..." you cried, covering your face with both hands. "I'm supposed to be better than this. I hate that he still has this much power over me."
You couldn't stop sobbing.
Suddenly, you felt strong, warm arms wrapped around you. Hongjoong had moved from his seat and pulled you into a tight, comforting hug. One hand gently rubbed your back while the other cradled the back of your head.
"Shhh... it's okay," he whispered softly against your hair, voice deep and soothing. "Let it all out, sweetheart. You don't have to be strong right now. Not here."
He held you closer, letting you cry into his chest as your body shook with heavy sobs.
"You're not pathetic," he murmured firmly. "You're incredible. My son is the idiot who couldn't see what he had."
Hongjoong didn't let go. He kept holding you, rocking you gently, his warmth and steady heartbeat slowly calming you down as you cried out months of pent-up pain.
"Just so you know," Hongjoong said softly, still holding you close, "I didn't raise my son to be like that. I thought I taught him well."
His voice was low and heavy with disappointment. One of his hands kept rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back while the other gently cradled the back of your head.
"I don't know where he got the idea that cheating is okay," he continued, almost to himself. "I'm really sorry, sweetheart. You didn't deserve any of this. Not a single second."
You stayed buried against his chest, your sobs slowly quieting into shaky breaths. His shirt was damp with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind. He smelled comforting, like warm cologne, fresh laundry, and something distinctly him.
Hongjoong pulled back just enough to look at your tear-streaked face. His thumb gently wiped away the tears still clinging to your cheeks, his touch incredibly tender.
"Well..." you whispered shakily against his chest, voice still thick with tears, "just by how you're treating me right now... maybe it's only the looks that Jaehyun inherited from you."
Hongjoong let out a soft, surprised chuckle, the sound vibrating warmly through his chest. He pulled back slightly so he could look at you properly, his hand still gently cupping your cheek.
"Is that so?" he murmured, a small, handsome smile tugging at his lips. His thumb brushed another stray tear from your skin. "I'll take that as a compliment then."
Hongjoong watched you with quiet intensity, his dark eyes never leaving your face as you pushed the pasta around your plate. The warm lighting in the dining room cast soft shadows across his sharp jawline and the open collar of his black shirt.
He set his wine glass down slowly, the quiet clink breaking the silence.
"What do you want to do with Jaehyun now?" he asked, voice low and velvety.You stared at your plate for a long moment, the hurt and rage you'd buried for two months rising back to the surface like poison.
"I want him to learn his lesson," you said bitterly, your voice cracking. "I want it to hurt. I want him to feel even a fraction of the humiliation and betrayal he made me feel."A heavy silence filled the room.
Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, studying you carefully. Then the corner of his mouth slowly lifted into a dark, dangerous smile. He stood up and walked around the table until he was standing right beside you. His tall frame towered over you as he gently tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.
"Then let me help you teach him," he murmured, his thumb brushing slowly across your bottom lip. "We can film ourselves in bed. You and me. I'll fuck you the way you deserved. I'll make you moan my name so loudly the camera catches every desperate sound."
Your breath hitched.
Hongjoong leaned down closer, his lips hovering near your ear as his voice dropped into a husky whisper.
"Imagine it, sweetheart... My hands all over this beautiful body. My cock buried deep inside you while you're falling apart. And then we send that video straight to Jaehyun. Let him watch his own father ruining the girl he was stupid enough to cheat on." He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own burning with lust and something dangerously possessive.
"You'll be screaming for me... and he'll be forced to watch every second of it."
His fingers slid from your chin down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat on your skin."It's your decision," he said softly, but his eyes were anything but soft. "If you want real revenge... I'll give it to you tonight. I'll make sure my son never forgets what he lost."
You stared at Hongjoong, heart hammering wildly in your chest.
He was undeniably attractive. The way his black shirt stretched across his broad chest and muscular arms, the sharp line of his jaw, and those intense eyes that seemed to see right through you. At 42, he looked better than most men half his age. But this... this was crossing a dangerous line.
"I... I don't know," you whispered, voice shaky. You looked down at your hands, fingers twisting together nervously. "Mr. Kim, he's still your son. This feels... wrong."
Hongjoong gave you a warm, understanding smile, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle gently. His hand slid from your thigh to your back, giving you a soft, comforting pat as if he could sense the storm of emotions inside you.
"It's okay," he said softly, voice gentle and reassuring. "I don't like pushing things on people, sweetheart. Especially not you."
He straightened up and moved back to his seat across from you, though his eyes never really left your face. The tension in the air slowly eased, but the heat of his earlier words still lingered.
"Go ahead and eat," he added with a small nod toward your plate. "Then you can rest if you want. No pressure at all. I'm just happy you're here."
You nodded quietly and picked up your fork again, though your appetite had mostly vanished. The carbonara tasted amazing, but your mind kept replaying his proposal, the image of you and Hongjoong in bed, filming everything, sending it to Jaehyun.
For the next few weeks, Hongjoong's offer refused to leave your mind.
It lingered like a parasite burrowing deeper every quiet moment. Late at night while you tried to study. During band practice when your mind should've been focused on counts and formations. Even in your dreams, his low voice would whisper the filthy promise again and again.
You told yourself it was wrong. Disgusting, even. He was your ex-boyfriend's father for heaven's sake. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thought away, it always crawled back, hotter and more tempting each time.You decided to ignore it. Bury it. Move on.
Until one sunny afternoon.
You were walking past the football field when you saw them.
Jaehyun was sitting on the bleachers with the same girl, the one you had dragged off his cock that day. She was laughing at something he said, leaning into his side while his arm was casually draped around her shoulders. He looked... completely unbothered. Like he hadn't shattered your trust and humiliated you in front of the entire campus.
Something ugly and sharp twisted violently in your chest.Your feet stopped moving. Your fists clenched tightly at your sides.All the pain, the anger, and the humiliation came rushing back in full force. And right behind it, Hongjoong's voice echoed clearly in your head.
"If you want real revenge... I'll give it to you."
That's when you stopped hesitating.
The sight of Jaehyun laughing with that girl on the bleachers had ignited something feral inside you. No more crying. No more burying the pain. Tonight, you were going to make him regret ever laying eyes on anyone else.
Later that evening, you stood in front of the his father's house with fire in your eyes and steel in your spine. Your fist knocked firmly on the wooden door.
The door opened, and there was Hongjoong.
He looked devastatingly attractive in a simple black button-up with the top few buttons undone, revealing a hint of his toned chest. His dark hair was slightly messy, and the moment his eyes landed on you. Standing there with flushed cheeks, furrowed brows, and clenched fists.
Before he could even speak, you looked him dead in the eyes and said with absolute conviction. "Let's do it."
The air between you instantly thickened. Hongjoong's gaze darkened with raw hunger as he stepped aside, silently inviting you in. The moment the door closed behind you with a soft click, it felt like the outside world had been shut out completely.
Your head started to spin.You didn't know if it was because of Hongjoong's strong, woody perfume, deep, masculine, and intoxicating, that kept flooding your senses with every breath, or if it was the sudden wave of nervousness crashing over you all at once.Your heart hammered violently in your chest. Your palms felt clammy. The reality of what you just agreed to hit you like a freight train.
"Come with me," he said softly.
His hand slid down to yours, at the flat as he guided you upstairs. The house was quiet except for the sound of your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. Every step up the stairs made your stomach flutter harder.He led you down the hallway and pushed open the door to the master bedroom. The room was spacious and masculine, dark wood furniture, a large king-sized bed with crisp black sheets, and soft ambient lighting from the bedside lamps. The air smelled faintly of his cologne, the same intoxicating scent that had made your head spin earlier.
Hongjoong gently pulled you inside and closed the door behind you with a soft click. Without saying a word, he guided you toward the bed, his hand resting lightly on your lower back.
"Sit down, sweetheart," he murmured.You obeyed, lowering yourself to sit at the edge of the large bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight. Hongjoong stood in front of you, tall and commanding, looking down at you with dark, hungry eyes.He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly tender.
"Nervous?" Hongjoong asked softly, his voice low and gentle as he stayed crouched between your parted thighs.You could only nod, not trusting your voice. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but you couldn't deny it. Your heart was racing so fast you felt lightheaded, and the way he was looking at you, so intense, so patient, yet so hungry, made everything feel overwhelming.
Hongjoong gave you a small, understanding smile. He rose slowly from his crouch and sat beside you on the edge of the bed, his thigh pressing warmly against yours. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his side while his other hand came up to gently cup your face.
"It's okay to be nervous, sweetheart," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. "This is a big step. But I promise... I'll take care of you."
He leaned in and pressed a slow, tender kiss to your forehead, then another on your temple, letting his lips linger there. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you again, making your head spin in the best way.
"I'm not going to rush you," he whispered against your skin. "We can go slow."
His hand slid down from your face to your neck, then lower, tracing the line of your collarbone with feather-light fingers. He tilted your chin up so your eyes met his again.
"Tell me what you want," he said softly, eyes dark but patient. "Do you want me to kiss you? Touch you? Or do you just want me to hold you until the nerves settle down?" His thumb brushed slowly over your bottom lip as he waited, giving you full control even while his body radiated heat and barely contained desire.
The sigh that left your lips was soft and shaky the moment Hongjoong's lips met yours.It wasn't rushed or demanding. It was slow, warm, and devastatingly gentle, like he was savoring the first taste of something he had wanted for a long time. Your head instinctively leaned into him, eyes fluttering shut as a rush of heat spread through your body.
Hongjoong hummed approvingly against your mouth, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other stayed firmly on your waist, pulling you closer. His lips moved against yours with experience, deepening the kiss gradually until you parted your lips for him. When his tongue slipped inside, tasting you, a quiet whimper escaped your throat.He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, deep, sensual, and thorough. The kind of kiss that made your toes curl and your thighs press together instinctively.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to let you breathe, his forehead rested against yours. His breathing was slightly heavier, eyes half-lidded and dark with desire as he looked at you.
"Still nervous?" he whispered, voice husky. His thumb brushed tenderly over your now slightly swollen bottom lip.You barely managed a small shake of your head.
"There we go." Hongjoong smiled, slow and predatory, before capturing your lips again, this time with more hunger. His hand slid down your side, gripping your hip as he guided you further onto the bed until your back gently met the soft mattress.
He hovered over you for a moment, drinking in the sight of you lying in his bed, flushed cheeks, parted lips, and eyes hazy with nerves and arousal. Then, without breaking eye contact, he sat back on his knees and reached for the buttons of his black shirt.
One by one, he undid them slowly, deliberately, revealing his toned chest and defined abs inch by inch. The shirt slid off his broad shoulders and strong arms, exposing his muscular upper body. He was even more impressive than you had imagined, years of quiet discipline showing in every line of his torso. He tossed the shirt aside without care.
Your breath caught.
Hongjoong leaned down again, capturing your lips in another slow, heated kiss. His bare skin radiated warmth as he pressed closer, one hand sliding up your side.
His fingers found the hem of your sundress. He sat up slightly and gently tugged the fabric upward, eyes locked on yours the entire time, giving you every chance to stop him. You lifted your hips instinctively, and he pulled the dress up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties.
Hongjoong let out a low, appreciative groan as his gaze roamed over your body.
"Fuck... look at you," he murmured, voice rough with desire. His hands traced your waist, then moved up to cup your breasts through your bra, thumbs brushing over the fabric. He leaned down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, then lower, between the valley of your breasts. His fingers skillfully unclasped your bra and slid the straps down your shoulders, freeing your breasts.
"Perfect," he breathed, eyes dark.He tossed your bra aside and returned to kissing you — deeper this time, while his hands explored your now mostly bare body with slow, reverent touches.
Hongjoong kissed you like he was starving for you, his mouth claiming yours in deep, slow strokes while his hands explored your body with growing hunger. He trailed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and lower, until his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking gently.
A soft moan slipped from your lips.
He continued downward, pressing wet kisses along your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties. Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers into the thin fabric and started slowly pulling them down your thighs, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze.
As the lace slid down your legs, Hongjoong looked up at you, eyes dark with lust. His voice came out low and rough, slightly breathless.
"Where's your phone, sweetheart?" His hands never stopped moving. He finished pulling your panties off and tossed them aside, then ran his palms up your bare thighs, gently spreading them wider so he could settle between them.You could barely think straight, head spinning from the sensation of being completely naked under him.
"In... in my bag," you managed to whisper, voice shaky. "By the door..."
Hongjoong hummed in acknowledgment. He leaned down and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss right above your mound, dangerously close to where you were already aching for him.
"Stay right here," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot. "Don't move."
He stood up for a moment, giving you a full view of his sculpted torso and the obvious bulge straining against his pants. He walked over to your bag, retrieved your phone, and returned to the bed.
Hongjoong gave you one last deep kiss before pulling back, then handed you your phone with a dark, heated look in his eyes.
"Here, sweetheart," he said, voice low and commanding. "You're going to record this."
He helped you sit up and lean back against the plush headboard, propping pillows behind you so you were comfortable. Then he moved down the bed, settling his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His large hands gripped the back of your knees and pushed your legs wider apart, fully exposing your glistening pussy to him.
Your hands trembled slightly as you opened the camera app on of your phone and switched it to video mode. You hit record.
Hongjoong looked straight into the lens for a moment, a wicked smirk on his lips, before his gaze dropped back to your dripping core. Without another word, he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your slit in one long, filthy stroke. A broken moan immediately spilled from your lips.
"Oh my god..." you whimpered, hips twitching.
Hongjoong groaned at your taste, the vibration sending sparks through your body. He licked you again, slower this time, savoring every drop before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit and sucking gently.
"Fuck—!" you cried out, your free hand flying down to grip his hair.
He ate you out like a man possessed, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, more hungry. His tongue circled your clit, flicked it, then dipped down to push inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on your pussy filled the room, clearly captured by the camera.
You struggled to keep the phone steady, your hand shaking as pleasure coursed through you. "Joong— ahh!" you moaned loudly, eyes rolling back. "It feels so good..."
He looked up at the camera again, eyes almost rolling at the back of his head, while you watched his face contort through the screen of your phone. He then slid two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them perfectly against that sensitive spot. Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as you tried your best to keep recording, legs trembling around his head, hips grinding against his talented tongue.
His tongue worked your swollen clit with expert precision, licking, sucking, and flicking in perfect rhythm while two thick fingers pumped deep inside your soaked pussy. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the room, all of it being captured clearly on the phone you were desperately trying to hold steady.
"Ahh—! Hongjoong... fuck!" you moaned loudly, your voice cracking.
Your head fell back against the headboard, but you forced your eyes to stay on the camera. Your thighs trembled violently around his shoulders. The pleasure was building fast, coiling tight and hot in your lower belly.
Hongjoong groaned against your pussy, the vibration making your back arch sharply.
"You taste so fucking good, baby," he growled, lips shiny with your juices. He curled his fingers harder, stroking that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. "So wet for me already."
"I— I can't—" you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his face. "It's too good... I'm— I'm so close!"
He sucked harder on your clit, flicking his tongue rapidly while his fingers fucked you faster, deeper. Your whole body started shaking uncontrollably. Hongjoong pulled back just enough to look up at you, eyes dark and commanding.
"Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum on my tongue." He dove back in, sucking your clit into his mouth with intense pressure while his fingers curled relentlessly against your g-spot. The coil inside you snapped.
"Oh my god— Hongjoong!" you screamed, your back arching violently off the bed. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs clamped around his head as you came hard, pussy pulsing and gushing around his fingers. Wave after wave of intense pleasure ripped through your body, making your vision blur and your legs shake uncontrollably. You kept moaning his name brokenly, loud and shameless, as the orgasm went on and on. You didn't even know if you properly recorded the way he made you cum. It was too much for you to think about it.
Hongjoong didn't stop. He kept licking and fingering you through every pulse, milking every last drop of pleasure until you were a trembling, whimpering mess against the headboard. Only when your moans turned into weak, oversensitive whimpers did he finally slow down. He pressed one last gentle kiss to your throbbing clit before pulling his fingers out and looking up at you with a satisfied, predatory smirk.
Hongjoong huffed a heavy, shaky breath against your soaked pussy, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. Your orgasm had clearly affected him just as much. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with lust, and his lips glistened with your release.
He slowly crawled up your body like a predator, hovering over you on his forearms. His muscular frame caged you in completely, his hard cock pressing hot and heavy against your inner thigh through his pants.
Without a word, he snatched the phone from your trembling hands. He quickly tapped the screen a few times, saving the video with a satisfied hum, then tossed the phone onto the far side of the bed where it landed safely on the pillows.
Now there was nothing between you two. Hongjoong looked down at you with pure hunger, his dark hair falling slightly over his eyes. His bare chest brushed against your breasts with every breath he took.
"Enough recording for now," he rasped, voice thick and rough. "I want to feel you properly."
He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, messy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands gripped your thigh, pulling it up around his waist as he ground his clothed erection against your bare, sensitive pussy. You moaned into his mouth, still twitching from your orgasm. Hongjoong broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.
"Are you ready for me, sweetheart?" he asked, voice low and husky, barely holding back his hunger. You didn't answer with words. Instead, you looked straight up into his eyes, fiery, determined, and needy all at once, and slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck as you gave him the clearest answer you could.
Hongjoong's eyes darkened even more. A low, pleased groan rumbled from deep in his chest.
"That's my good girl." He reached down between your bodies and quickly freed himself from his pants. His hard cock sprang out, thick, heavy, and flushed. He wrapped a hand around the base and rubbed the swollen head up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your wetness.
You gasped softly at the feeling, your arms tightening around his neck.
Hongjoong pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as he lined himself up with your entrance.
"Eyes on me, baby," he whispered roughly. Then, with one slow but firm thrust, he pushed the thick head of his cock inside you.
A broken moan escaped your lips as he stretched you open. Inch by inch, he sank deeper, groaning at how tightly your walls gripped him.
"Fuck... so tight," he hissed through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to slam all the way in. "You feel even better than I imagined." He buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin as he gave you time to adjust to his size, his hips twitching with the effort of holding back.
The moment you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked him in the eyes, something in Hongjoong snapped.
He didn't hold back anymore.
With a deep, guttural groan, he thrust forward hard, burying his thick cock deep inside you in one powerful stroke. A loud, broken cry tore from your throat as he stretched you wide open, filling you completely.
"Fuck—!" Hongjoong growled, voice raw with years of pent-up desire. "Finally..."
He didn't give you time to adjust. He pulled back almost all the way and slammed back in, setting a brutal, desperate pace right away. The bed creaked loudly beneath you as he fucked you like a man who had been starving for this moment for years.
"Been waiting so fucking long for this," he rasped against your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he pounded into you. "You have no idea how many nights I imagined fucking you raw in my bed."
Every thrust was deep and punishing, his hips snapping against yours with raw power. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with your loud moans and his heavy grunts filled the room.
Hongjoong grabbed one of your legs and hooked it over his waist, driving even deeper. His rhythm was relentless, almost animalistic, like he was claiming you completely.
"Mine now," he groaned, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks while the other braced beside your head. "This pussy is mine."
He kissed you messily, all tongue and teeth, swallowing your moans as he fucked you harder. His hips rolled with every thrust, making sure you felt every inch of him dragging against your walls.You could barely think, only feel the way he was ruining you so perfectly. Hongjoong buried his face in your neck again, sucking hard on your skin as he growled.
He fucked you like a man possessed, hips slamming against yours with raw, years-long hunger.
He suddenly shifted his angle, hooking your leg higher around his waist and driving deeper. He thrust hard a few times, searching, adjusting, until he found it. Your whole body jerked violently.
"Ahh—! There—!" you screamed, nails digging into his shoulders.
Hongjoong's lips curled into a feral smirk against your neck.
"Right here?" he growled, voice dark and satisfied. He immediately started targeting that sweet spot mercilessly. Every thrust was precise, deep, and devastatingly fast, slamming directly into the spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. The wet, filthy sound of his cock pounding into your soaked pussy echoed loudly in the room.
"Fuck yes— take it, baby," he groaned, eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he railed you without mercy. "This is what you needed, isn't it? A real man who knows how to fuck you properly."
His pace was brutal now, deep, fast, and relentless. The headboard banged loudly against the wall with every powerful thrust. Your breasts bounced wildly between your bodies as he drove into you again and again, hitting that perfect spot over and over.
You were moaning shamelessly, almost sobbing with pleasure, your arms locked tight around his neck.
Hongjoong buried his face in your neck, biting and sucking on your skin while he fucked you even harder, hips snapping with pure desperation.
"That's it," he panted, voice rough. He angled his hips again, making sure every thrust dragged perfectly against your g-spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge at an overwhelming speed.
"You're getting so fucking tight again," he groaned, almost snarling. "Gonna cum for me already, sweetheart? Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are."
Hongjoong kept slamming into that perfect spot with ruthless precision, his hips moving in a fast, deep rhythm that left you completely undone. Your eyes suddenly rolled to the back of your head, mouth hanging open in a silent cry as the overwhelming pleasure reached its peak. Your entire body tensed violently beneath him.
"I'm— I'm cumming—!" you sobbed brokenly, voice cracking.
Your walls clamped down around his thick cock like a vice, pulsing and fluttering wildly as your second orgasm crashed through you even harder than the first. A loud, shameless moan tore from your throat, your back arching sharply off the bed while your legs shook uncontrollably around his waist.
The way your pussy squeezed him so tightly, almost begging him to cum with you, finally pushed Hongjoong over the edge.
"Fuck— baby!" he growled loudly, his thrusts turning erratic and desperate. With a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself as deep as possible inside you and came hard. Thick, hot spurts of cum flooded your spasming pussy, filling you up completely as he kept grinding into you, riding out both of your orgasms.
His body trembled above yours, hips twitching with every pulse as he emptied himself inside you, groaning your name against your neck like a prayer. For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breathing and the faint creak of the bed. Hongjoong stayed buried deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting and covered in sweat.
"Shit..." he whispered hoarsely, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips. "You feel so fucking good milking my cock like that." He gave one last slow thrust, pushing his cum deeper into you, then stayed there, savoring the warmth of your body wrapped around him.
Both of you stayed locked together, breathing heavily in the quiet aftermath.
He let out a long, satisfied sigh and gently collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight. His face nestled into the crook of your neck, lips brushing softly against your damp skin as he tried to catch his breath.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were your mingled breathing and the faint beating of his heart against your chest.
Hongjoong was the first to move. He pressed slow, lazy kisses along your neck and jawline, then finally lifted his head to look at you. His hair was messy, cheeks flushed, and his eyes were softer now, warm, almost tender.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, voice hoarse from exertion. One of his hands came up to gently brush strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead.
You could only nod weakly, still dazed and trembling from the intensity of your orgasms. Your arms remained loosely wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at his nape.
Hongjoong smiled softly, a small, genuine smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He leaned down and kissed you, slow, deep, and full of affection this time, completely different from the raw hunger earlier.
Hongjoong stayed buried inside you for a few more moments, savoring the warmth and the way your walls still fluttered around him. He pressed one last lingering kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out with a low groan.
A thick trickle of his cum immediately leaked from your swollen pussy onto the sheets. He watched it for a second with dark satisfaction before looking back at your face.
"Stay still, sweetheart," he murmured softly, brushing a kiss on your forehead. "Don't move. I'll get you a glass of water."
You nodded hazily, still floating in a blissful, post-orgasm daze. Your body felt heavy and boneless against the mattress.
As Hongjoong got up and walked out of the room, completely naked, you reached over to the other side of the bed where he had thrown your phone. Your fingers trembled slightly as you picked it up.
The video was still there.
Without giving yourself time to overthink, you opened your messaging app, found Jaehyun's contact, and attached the video. Your thumb hovered for only a second before you hit send.The message delivered.
You stared at the screen, heart pounding. A few seconds later, the typing bubble appeared... then stopped. Then appeared again.
Finally, a message came through.
Jaehyun: What the fuck is this?
Another message followed almost immediately, his panic clear even through text.
Jaehyun: Is that... my fucking dad?!
Jaehyun: Are you seriously fucking my DAD?!
You didn't reply. You smiled .A slow, satisfied, almost wicked smile spread across your lips as you scrolled through the flood of texts Jaehyun had sent in the last few minutes.
Jaehyun: What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!
Jaehyun: You're seriously fucking my DAD just because I made one mistake?!
Jaehyun: This is so fucked up. You're disgusting.
Jaehyun: Delete that shit right now. I can't believe you'd stoop this low.
Jaehyun: Answer me you fucking bitch.
Every angry, desperate message made the smile on your face grow wider. You could practically hear him shouting through the screen, the panic, the rage, the disbelief.
You were still smiling when Hongjoong returned with a glass of cold water in his hand. He paused at the doorway for a second, taking in the sight of you, naked, flushed, and glowing, sitting up in his bed while scrolling through your phone with a satisfied little smirk on your face.
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Did you already send it?" he asked, walking over to the bed. You looked up at him and nodded slowly, biting your lip to suppress the grin threatening to spread across your face.
Hongjoong let out a low, rich chuckle, clearly pleased. He sat on the edge of the bed beside you and handed you the glass.
"Here, drink up," he said softly.
You took the glass and drank the rest of the water slowly while he watched you with dark, affectionate eyes. When you finished, he took the empty glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand.
He leaned in, cupping your jaw gently as he pressed a slow kiss to your lips.
"Good girl," he whispered against your mouth, voice laced with satisfaction. "Now come here."
Hongjoong pulled you back down onto the bed, wrapping his strong arms around your body and tucking you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, one hand lazily stroking your back.
"Rest now, sweetheart," he murmured, holding you close. As you drifted off in his warm embrace, your phone buzzed one last time on the nightstand. You smiled against Hongjoong's chest and closed your eyes. Revenge had never felt so good.
NSFW 18+ | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
Word Count: 1.7k
Pairing: Fem!Yunho x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Her boyfriend thinks she's your friend--your study partner. But you both know the truth: That your sleepovers are much more than meets the eye.
A/N: hey so this was gonna be much longer and with much more plot, but you know sometimes that just doesn't happen. and that is so okay! so here's some college au lesbian situationship goodies for you all 💗 thank you to the lovely @sungbeam for hosting this wonderful collab. and a hope you enjoy!! (and lmk if you do enjoy so i dont cry)
also ty to @minkieater for just telling me to post this or it may have never seen the light of day lol
read everyone else's works here!
Read on AO3 [coming soon]
HER LIPS were the softest you had ever known. Like smooth silk against yours. She always moaned into your mouth—cute little wails of pleasure when you pressed against her.
When you moved down to her neck, the moans we're always the same. She never said your name; she locked it behind closed doors. Even when it felt like she was close to saying it, even in a voice just above a whisper, she wouldn't say it. She couldn't say it.
Your hands gripped her hips, fingers sliding down to her thighs wrapping her legs around your waist, "how was your day?" It was so casual, the way you asked her. It was a soft murmur of acknowledgement of what you were meant to be doing here, or, at least, what her boyfriend thought you were doing.
Yunho's school bag sat right where she'd tossed it in the corner of your dorm room. Her chemistry textbook was haphazardly thrown on the coffee table—open to a chapter you weren’t even meant to be studying.
“It was–” her back arched as your lips traveled downward, placing wet kisses between the shallow valley of her breasts. “Good. It was good.”
“Mmh yeah?” you muttered against her navel, “I’m sure.” Her legs were over your shoulders now, her thighs almost touching your ears. “Want me to make it great?” Your teeth grazed the soft cotton of her panties. You looked back up to her face, eyes trailing up her abdomen and her slender neck to her beautiful face.
She didn't look at you, eyes squinted shut, waiting for you to do something. Anything.
"Answer me, baby," you kissed her over the cloth, one hand resting on the flat surface of her stomach. You stroked the skin with your thumb, the tip of the finger grazing over the purple gem sticking out from her navel. A small, prideful smile crept over your lips—you knew for a fact Mingi loved that piercing.
A hand swatted down at you. "Don't call me that," she whined, hips wiggling under your face.
"Okay, Yuyu," her hands covered her mouth, "will you answer me now?"
"Please…just do something…"
You chuckled, "of course." Your finger hooked under the waistband, sliding them over her thighs and down her legs. She glistened in front of you, shuddering when your mouth hovered over her.
It excited you how new it all felt to her. She wasn't a virgin; she hadn't been for a few months, but every time she slid into your bed it was like you were teaching it to her all over again.
Turns out playing celibate with your shitty boyfriend for a week was enough to make one forget.
But you'd remind her. You always did. Because while Mingi got her Monday's through Saturday's, her Sunday's were always just for you.
Your tongue slid between her folds, eyes closing at her taste, just as you remember it, that silky sweetness that stayed on your mind all week. Her moans reached your ears like a melody, like a praise. She never spoke a word, only incoherent sounds spoken in tongues. You wrapped your lips around her clit, humming in satisfaction at how quickly she unraveled.
You didn't look back up at her face. Not this time. Instead, you kept your eyes closed. If you listened hard enough, you could find your name in her melodic hymn, your tongue working every sound out of her.
Her legs shook, you felt the tremors at your ears. Her thighs squeezed your head—an unyielding lack of control coursing through her.
You sucked harder, tongue circling the bud, teasing it. That was all she ever needed. You found it deeply poetic how little she needed penetration to get off; she never even asked for it. Yet she begged and begged and begged for you to take her into your mouth, letting her grind against your face until it all washed over her.
It happened in waves, the orgasm pulsing through her. You drank in her sounds and her taste. Her hand reached down toward you, and you tangled your fingers with hers. Sharp nails dug into the back of your hand, but not an ounce of you cared, not when she clung to you so desperately.
"C'mere," she whined, the aftershocks of her orgasm still running through her.
You smiled, kissing up her stomach, and stopping at the small crucifix handing around her neck. You kissed that, too, arms wrapping around her waist and lying beside her. She sighed, curling into your neck, her breath hot against your skin.
And you let her linger there before she asked the inevitable:
"Can I sleep over?"
YOUR HAND stroked her hair, the silky, velvet strands filtering through your fingers like water. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic. You felt the rising of her chest against your own.
It was moments like these that you for wondered how long this would continue. When would she get bored? Abandoning every moment you'd shared together for a simple, peaceful life. She'd probably marry Mingi, let her family walk her down the aisle into a dull and sexless marriage—one where she popped out four kids for a man that nutted in her twice a year.
She loved him, you knew she did. It was clear in the way she looked at him, but you knew she was seeing something you couldn't. Something in him that you struggled to believe even existed.
He treated her well enough. It was clear to you that he cared for her as his girlfriend, as the tall, skinny, brunette with a pretty face that he carted around like a trophy. But that was where it stopped. A shallow depiction of love. One devoid of any sort of value outside of his desire to appease his own severed version of masculinity.
And yet, you knew her. You knew things about her that Mingi probably never would. You knew that she was scared of the dark, that she clung to you just a bit tighter when the lights went out. You knew that she was terrified what her life would look like this time next year, when she was graduated and lost. You knew that she really wanted to cut her hair short, that the pretty length it was at right now bored her to death—much like the rest of her life. And above all, you knew what it meant to really love her, to hold her and be held, to kiss her and imagine the entirety of a life together that was doomed to never exist.
"Hey," she poked you in the side with her finger. You looked down at her with a gentle smile, "are you free Friday?"
She blinked a few times, waiting patiently on your response. You stroked your thumb over her cheekbone, circling the little freckles under her eye, "I should be. Why? Is a whole week too long to see me?"
She giggled, "you know I'd see you every day if I could." You can. "But no. There's this party…"
"Oh my god please don't invite me to one of your boyfriend's frat parties," you rolled your eyes, hand still stroking her hair, pressing your lips to the top of her head.
"I mean…it's not his party. It's one of his friend's birthday party, and you know how he gets at those things," she nuzzled her face into your neck, resting her head neatly in your shoulder.
"Yeah. Blackout drunk," you scoffed, scooting her closer, resting her thigh on top of your hip. "Need me there to what? Save you?"
She traced the length of your neck with a slender finger, "I don't know. Keep me company maybe?"
"Yunho…" a shallow sigh fell from your lips, "you know we don't do stuff like that together."
She pushed herself out of your neck, moving her hips to sit over yours. Your hands moved to her waist without even a thought, your thumbs sinking into the dip between her hipbone and her stomach. "But why not?" Her fingers traced your cheek, brushing hair out of your face.
You looked up into her eyes, glassy and tired, her face still flushed, the tip of her nose pink. You both knew why. It was like a looming cloud over every interaction—one that you tried so desperately to ignore. It was named. Explicit.
Her boyfriend.
The one thing that stood in the way of a woman more kind and gentle than you'd ever find again. It was doomed to fail from the moment she landed among your sheets the first time. But that never made it easier.
Because even if she loved him, at least she was in your bed.
synopsis: the captain of the ship cannot stand sharing.
note: another reupload from last year :p
warnings: MDNI, 2.4k words, pirate AU, porn with a little plot, penetrative sex, afab fem reader, unprotected, rough, edging, pussy slaps, very light choking and crying, biting, slight exhibitionism (?), cursing and dirty talk, hongjoong is whipped but mean, mingi and seonghwa cameos, “baby” / “joong” / “captain” used as pet names. not proofread.
the sea is ruthless.
dark clouds overhead signal rain, but it doesn’t come yet. nature works at its own pace.
tall waves crash against the side of the fairly big pirate ship, some of the water making it onto the deck. half of the crew groans in frustration, the other half childishly splash the water with their boots.
another morning has gone by and you haven’t seen your captain. nights ago, he made it clear he wasn’t to be bothered by anyone, and everyone took his word for it. for as kind as hongjoong was, he was also not to be tested. for three long days, he has skipped meals and forwarded all concerns to the second in command, the quartermaster seonghwa.
everyone seems restless without him bossing them around. the course of the ship was set, and the crew had enough supplies to get to the next dock. it was now just a waiting game, if luck was on your side. the marines were always a worry in the back of your mind. after all, your bounties had nearly quadrupled from the last posters to the current ones.
it only takes half an hour to get through the area of unforgiving waves to calm waters. the sky is still gloomy but no seawater makes it onto the deck, no man is knocked over by the force of the wind.
you’re idling on the deck, leaning over the railing to look down at the water. it isn’t the clear kind you can see through to greet the sealife. but it’s stunning, nonetheless, in all its mystery.
“hey,” you hear from beside you, a heavy arm draping onto your shoulders. “you’re antsy. you keep pulling at your shirt.”
mingi’s eyes greet you as your turn, but you make no move to shy away from his touch. if anything, you lean into it. “there’s nothing else to do.”
a hum rumbles in his chest, you feel it on the side of your head, “yeah. it’s quiet up here. i feel like everyone’s nervous. i don’t think most of the crew has ever gone through one of captain’s moods.”
you glance at the crew behind you. new, friendly faces. some of them you still mixed up with each other. “it’s been a while since he locked himself up like that. seonghwa won’t say what it’s about.”
mingi shrugs, “same old. a new map he got his hands on. some intel that might change our course. maybe—”
“—mingi, have some respect,” a command sounds from a few feet away, the usual sweetness of seonghwa’s voice sharpened around the edges.
the man straightens up immediately, pulling his arm back to his side before taking a slow step back and away from you. the heavy thuds of his boots on the floor drown out the small inhale he takes.
you take a step back as well, turning around fully to see everyone standing up with their shoulders squared, breaths bated.
hongjoong is already looking at you.
the crew doesn’t know where to set their eyes. some glance between their captain and you. others look straight down, unwilling to be caught staring by either.
your spine prickles with heat as the stare stretches on for a long moment, and you feel your breath shallowing in anticipation.
hongjoong’s eyes move from yours to scan over mingi as he speaks, “a word, please.”
mingi takes a careful step forward, but hongjoong’s eyes narrow, making the former stop dead in his tracks.
“not you. i’m talking to my gunner.”
the steel at your hip feels weirdly heavy as he speaks. he never referred to you by your role like that. you step forward regardless, almost expecting him to change his mind. but he doesn’t, allowing you to walk past him before following you down.
as soon as the door to his room closes behind him, he’s speaking.
“what the fuck was that?”
you turn on your heel to face him, voice hushed to encourage him to lower his tone, “what was what?”
an amused scoff pushes through his lips, “i went up to announce— fuck, it doesn’t even matter. i stay in for a few days and you start letting the crew touch you like that?”
“it was a side hug—”
“don’t—” he takes a step forward, searching your features, “your head was resting against his shoulder.”
“i didn’t realize it would bother you so much,” you shrug, looking off to the side.
he looks at you like you’ve just revealed yourself as a marine. “would you have let him, had i been there?”
“no.”
“then you knew it would bother me.”
you open your mouth to counter, but you’re left with nothing to say. hongjoong takes that as an opportunity to crowd you against a wall, pressing his lips to yours without any room for hesitation.
the kiss is deep and desperate, days worth of passion poured into it as he unbuttons your shirt with little precision. he pulls back, opting to nip at your jaw and neck as his fingers work to get your clothes off you in record time.
he steps back, takes his own shirt off and throws it next to yours on the floor. he grabs a quilt from his cot and throws it on the floor behind himself before pulling you down with him.
he leaves a searing kiss on your lips before impatiently turning you onto your back, tossing your belt and steel weapon to the side, and tugging your pants off of you, “how long have you been waiting?”
“what do you mean?”
his eyes flicker up to yours, and you almost shy away from the intensity, “your panties are soaked. i can fucking smell you.”
your nails dig into your palms, trying to push yourself to answer, “days. but i didn’t wanna bother you.”
“you could’ve asked me, instead of batting your eyelashes at mingi. you think he knows what to do with you?”
you avoid the second question, wincing as he pushes your legs apart almost painfully, “you said you wanted to be left alone.”
“when do any of my rules apply to you?” he asks, breath fanning across the inside of your thighs. he sits up on his knees, looking down at you, “did you think i’d say no? call you a whore?”
the air in your lungs feels thick as you watch him attentively, nearly forgetting he was expecting an answer before shaking your head.
“words,” he says firmly, three fingers coming down with a smack, right against your clit.
“no,” you gasp out, brows pinching at the feeling, “no, but i deserve it.”
a small smile pulls at his lips as he watches the wet patch on your panties darken, “you don’t get to decide that. i do.”
he bends at the waist, tongue sticking out to lick a firm stripe over your underwear. his bottom row of teeth grazes your clit ever so slightly and you moan unashamedly at the feeling.
“that’s it,” his fingers hook around the middle of your underwear before pulling it to the side, “you gonna let me in?”
you nearly answer him with an enthusiastic nod, but the stinging feeling between your legs reminds you of his expectations. “yes.”
hongjoong spit-covered lips spread over his straight teeth, a satisfied hum settling in the air before he’s freeing himself, pants tugged halfway down his thighs. “there’s my girl.”
you lie back, head settled over the quilt as you wait, mouth watering at the sight before you. he doesn’t leave you hanging for long, his length dragging against you slowly before he guides himself into you.
you cover your mouth to no avail, the sudden sensation of him fully sheathed too much to bear. the floor creaks under your bodies as he begins thrusting into you, the soft fabric haphazardly thrown beneath you wrinkling with all the movement. but hongjoong is laser focused, pressing one of your legs back against your chest and raising the other over his shoulder.
he rewards you with a kiss against your calf when you hold your own legs near your chest, one of his free hands now messily rubbing against your clit while the other holds your jaw to keep your eyes on him.
"slow down—" you protest half-heartedly, but the man between your legs doesn't abide by your request, a droplet of sweat dripping down his sharp jaw and landing on your stomach.
his eyes follow its trail down your navel hungrily, his calloused hand releases your jaw to press on your lower abdomen, "feel me right here, baby? hm? talk to me, fuck, wanna hear you.”
"yeah," you repeat desperately, legs threatening to kick with the new sensation, "cap'n, i'm gonna cum too quick.”
the name makes his head fuzzy and he moans, putting all his focus into slowing down his thrusts, "uh-uh, not yet."
he rips his hand away from your clit and watches with a lopsided grin as your eyes snap open and land on him. you gulp down a complaint, knowing better than to talk back now, "but, i just... wanted your attention."
he leans down, silky hair grazing your skin with the new angle. he nudges his nose against your jawline, nipping softly at the skin there, "i know. this is a reminder."
you arch into him, your chest bumping against his. "joong, i didn't mean to..." you're cut off by a moan when he snakes a hand down to continue playing with your clit, his thick rings grazing your skin deliciously, "i didn't mean to, i promise."
"no?" he asks, unconvinced by your words, "didn't mean to? that's funny."
his streak of jealousy bleeds through his questioning and you give into it, "cause you were ignoring me."
you feel the sting of another slap against your cunt and your body shudders at the conflicting pain, eyes rolling back at the warm feeling.
"so your solution is to brush up against another crew member?" he quips almost amusedly, enjoying the build up of your noises before pulling his hand away from your arousal and tapping his fingers on your bottom lip.
you open up automatically, answering with a muffled groan around his digits. he looks at you, lovestruck but unwilling to relent, "should've used your words and told me you were feeling neglected. i would've made time for you, baby. i always do.”
you wrap your tongue around his middle and ring fingers, sucking them into your mouth as if your life depended on it.
when he finally catches the tears welling up in your eyes, he feels himself twitch, a barely audible moan tumbling from his glistening lips, "fuck, are you gonna cry?"
the humiliation makes even more tears prick at your eyes, and he removes his hand from your mouth to wrap around your throat and pull you in for a sloppy kiss. the exchange is all spit and teeth, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he doesn't know how to do anything but that. you move your hips against his and he allows you to, biting down softly on your bottom lip as a warning.
he's dazed when you pull apart, his eyebrows knitting together as he watches hot tears spill down your cheeks. he's licks them up faster than you can even register what he's doing, the saltiness of the fluid making his eyes screw shut. "are you sorry?" he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you think you hear a whine mixing into his tone.
"it won't happen again," you assure him, your arms wrapping around his neck and heels pushing against his backside to push him into you, "j— captain, please. they’ve probably all heard us by now, they know who i belong to, please."
hot sparks of desire thrum in his chest as call yourself his, and he presses softly against the sides of your neck, "yeah? is that what you wanted? other people to hear this?"
in your fogged mind, you barely capture his words, nodding enthusiastically to anything he says, "please, i just want you."
he pulls you even closer, roughly tugging your legs to press himself into you at a new angle. he hears the commotion on the deck above and can't bring himself to care in the slightest when you breathlessly moan his name.
"i want you too. love having you like this," he rambles as he builds up his thrusts again, "so fuckin' wet for me. you're dripping all over yourself.”
you throw your head back as his pelvis brushes against your clit with every pointed thrust. he continues, "where do you want me, baby?"
"inside," you plead, fighting against the urge to close your legs at the overpowering force of your impending climax, "i need it."
a strained whine rips spills from his throat in response, not questioning your answer as he begins to draw tight circles around your pulsing clit.
your grip on his forearms tightens as stars rise in your vision, finishing with a silent plea of his name. watching you tips him over the edge, his gaze focusing on your face as he follows your instruction to finish inside you.
you both reach your highs with heaving chests and restless hips, meeting each other's desperate thrusts halfway. when you start complaining, he pulls out, dropping his forehead on your stomach to regain his strength.
a few moments pass before you hear a hesitant knock on the door and a deep voice, "uh, sir, seonghwa says you’re needed in the comms room."
you immediately recognize the voice as mingi’s, and your dazed smile drops. hongjoong looks up at you with an amused grin at the coincidence, his voice hushed against your skin, "you gonna answer or not?"
you gulp down your embarrassment, trying to ignore the open-mouthed kisses your captain is leaving just under your belly button, "he'll be right out, mingi, thank... you."
"no rush. yeah, we can, uh, we can wait. yeah,” you hear from the other side of the door, the baritone of your friend's voice wavering slightly.
you feel a slight nibble just over the bone of your hip, a satisfied smile on hongjoong's face as he straightens up. he watches you clench around nothing, his eyes following the mix of your arousal traveling down your bottom, “you heard him. let’s keep him waiting just a little longer.”
⚜️ pairing: rival!seungcheol x fem!reader
⚜️ genre/content: assassins, rivals, kind of mafia vibes
⚜️ warnings: implied choking, brief descriptions of injuries on the face
⚜️ summary: despite your rivalry, seungcheol wants to know who has hurt you
⚜️ word count: 750
⚜️ a/n: omg i've had this in my drafts for MONTHS and while losing inspiration for other wip, i came across this and somehow wrote this in 30 minutes. i hope you enjoy! this is truly one of my favorite tropes #whodidthistoyou
“Who did this to you?” he whispers.
You can’t look at him. Despite your hatred for one another, you know him like the back of your hand. And he knows you. He will know the second he looks into your eyes.
He will know.
And you have to protect him.
You shake your head, trying to will the tears pooling at the bottom of your eyes away, staring down at your bruised and cut-up hands.
Seungcheol’s hand moves to your knee, the pressure spreading warmth throughout your body.
He’s kneeling in front of you now.
“I can’t. I can’t tell you.” Seungcheol sees something, but he needs you to turn your head towards him to be sure.
“Tell me. I can protect you.” He tries to cup your face in his hands, but you forcefully turn your chin away.
“No, no, I can’t-”
“Please let me help you.”
“I swear on my life, I cannot let you get involved.”
Seungcheol sighs and stands in front of you. He takes your arm in his hand, cradling your wrist gently where the bruise of a handprint remains etched into your skin.
“Please look at me,” he whispers.
“I can’t let them hurt you like this, too.”
“Who? Who will hurt me?” he pleads.
When you don’t answer, Seungcheol pads over to the adjoining bathroom and wets a towel with hot water.
“You have a cut on your lip, will you let me clean it up?” he asks gently.
You’re battling internal demons. You want to accept his help, but doing so will put his life in jeopardy. If what you went through is proof enough, they will kill him. You’ve spent the past six years of your life training to be the most skilled assassin. Choi Seungcheol is the only rival assassin who has managed to stay one step ahead of you. All you’ve wanted was to beat him. But with what you know now, you don’t want anyone else getting hurt.
“I should go,” you say quietly, making to stand, but a sharp pain shoots from your side and you fall back on the bed. Not before Seungcheol catches you by the waist.
“I am not leaving you. Please trust me.”
You haven’t let go of his arm, and he hasn’t let go of you.
“Let me help you.”
You slowly lift your head to look him in the eye.
One look.
Seungcheol sees it. He knows. Just like you knew he would. His jaw clenches.
He was right. The brief mark he saw on your neck was just a small part of a large handprint around your throat.
Gently, he lifts your chin with your thumb to inspect the handprint some more, and his suspicions are correct. Right below your jawline, there is the imprint of a family crest he knows all too well. Two lions facing each other, in between them a shield with one star in the middle- a symbol for the eldest son of the family.
This was your family’s crest.
Your older brother did this to you. He left you there in the woods, half dead.
Seungcheol can’t let this slide. You see the flash of pure anger in his eyes.
“Seungcheol, please, no.”
His eyes flit up to your face, taking in the other injuries on your face. The bruise on your cheekbone. The black eye. The bloody nose.
Your brother wanted to kill you.
Seungcheol might see you as his enemy, as someone he has wanted to beat in this hunting game.
But he would never do this to you. To anyone from his own family. He would never torture anyone like this.
“I’m sorry.”
“Seungcheol, please, I can’t lose you. Please.” You’re crying now, gripping onto his forearm with both hands.
“Please don’t leave me alone.”
Despite the years of rivalry, you don’t hesitate to trust Seungcheol to lift your weak body in his arms and carry you to the bathroom. He helps you take off your bloody clothes, stands outside the shower, waiting for you to finish scrubbing yourself clean. He dresses all your wounds himself, only faltering when it comes time to press a hot compress to your throat.
He watches you fall asleep, nestled under the covers, your hand in his, gently stroking it with his thumb.
When he’s positive you’re asleep, he quietly walks out to the balcony and pulls out the burner phone he keeps hidden in his left sock.
genre: fluff, heavily suggestive at the end, non-idol au, college au, childhood friends to lovers, penpals to friends to lovers, unrequited love that is actually requited, reader is an exchange student at jongho's university, ateez are volleyball players, i know nothing about volleyball, mentions of virgin jongho at the end, first love kind of thing
wc: 8.5k
summary: you and jongho met as children during a letter writing project. years later, you get the chance to meet in person because of a study exchange but you are determined to keep your feelings a secret - after all, how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with him?
a/n: this is my contribution to the alive live collab hosted by @sungbeam! it was such a fun collab where I got to speak and write with such amazing mutuals, ily all ❤️❤️❤️ the last scene of this fic actually took me ages to write, it just wouldn't come together like i wanted, so the nsfw scene has been taken out potentially to be posted as a side fic in the future when the idea is coperating with me 😭😭 i hope you like it anyways!!
thank you to @xomakara for the banner. i legit never make banners for my fics so thank u so much bby <3
masterlist // requests: open
-----------------
To my new friend,
My name is ----. I am 8 years old. I live in England. I like to write stories.
What is your name? I don’t know a lot about South Korea. Where do you live? What do you like to do?
I look forward to your reply.
From,
Your new friend
-
It started because of a school project.
Your Year 3 teacher was friends with someone who taught abroad and they came up with a writing unit that involved sending letters to people hours away in South Korea. You wouldn’t say you were excited about it but you definitely thought it was cool. Countries in Asia felt so far away from where you were right now and the idea that you could communicate with one without the use of technology sounded wonderfully archaic (you’d just learnt that word and used it obnoxiously when you had the chance).
So you wrote your initial letter using the writing frame your teacher gave you. You shared your name, your age, your home town, and your favourite hobby. You asked about Korea, about where they lived, to share something in Korean that you could practice reading or speaking (you didn’t know at the time how different hangul looked from English and that it would take some effort to be able to read it).
You didn’t know that your letter being selected by one person would change so much of your life.
-
To ---
Thank you for your letter.
My name is Jongho. I am 8 years old. I live in Goyang. I like to sing.
Goyang is very pretty. I like the lake here. What is England like? My teacher says it rains.
What do you write?
I wait for your reply.
From,
Jongho
-
You only shared a handful of letters before the writing project came to an end. You remembered holding your opened letters in your hand and frowning at your teacher as you asked, “does that mean I can’t speak to Jongho anymore?”
She’d smiled, happy that you seemed to have made a new friend, and assured you that you could keep communication - “just ask your parents permission to share your home address,” she advised.
Your parents, who had heard you excitedly speak about Jongho since you received the first letter, had smiled with amusement and agreed. They helped you write it down at the bottom of your next letter. You took your time to make sure each letter was clearly written so Jongho wouldn’t get confused and send it to the wrong place.
Two weeks later, a new letter with Korean postal stamps landed on your doormat and, you supposed, that was really the beginning.
Some of your hometown friends kept writing to their penpal but eventually, physical distance became too much. There were bigger worries, the kind that plague the mind of pre-teens, and then the problems of those teenagers that feel like the end of the world.
You had those too, of course.
You worried about whether the pimples on your nose were too obvious and whether your breasts were growing in appropriately because Sabrina already was already a DD while you were barely fitting a B cup. You dated the greasy boys that attended your school and cried into the lap of your friend, Hana, when they inevitably broke your heart.
You held Hana when the same thing happened and punched her girlfriend in the face when she spread a rumour that your friend wore granny panties (because those were incredible embarrassments in secondary school).
You didn’t tell everything to Jongho but you did tell him a lot. Once you hit 13, you became more aware that he was a boy and you were a girl, even if you’d known each other since before that mattered. When you got your first phone at eleven, you’d carefully written your number at the bottom of the page so he could text you. It was only later, when your mum raged at you about the phone bill, that you realised that probably wasn’t as viable as you had originally thought it was.
You didn’t speak in letters any more but you spoke every day on Kakao, which took a lot of translation apps to figure out how to set up an account.
I really need to learn Korean, you told him.
I can teach you, Jongho promised.
You sent each other videos and photos when you were fourteen. You’d sent him a version of yourself you considered perfect, made up with the appropriate lighting. You blushed when he called you pretty. The first selfie Jongho sent you was similar to yours - head angled up to get the right part of jaw, lips pressed together, eyes focused on the image on his phone screen. He was handsome, you’d known that, but you remembered the moment that you thought you actually liked him.
It was snowing in Seoul and he was trying to show you it. He’d spun the camera around his head, giggling his delight. He was bundled up in a massive ski jacket, hood pulled over his head. His eyes were sparkling in reflected light and his cheeks were burnt pink from the brutal winds that came in winter. You’d screenshotted it without even thinking and found yourself, embarrassingly, gazing at the secret photo while your heart beat in your throat.
You didn’t tell him of course, you couldn’t - that was embarrassing.
You didn’t know whether the rules for dating in Korea were the same in England but you knew you couldn’t bear the thought of doing something to ruin this relationship. It was important to you, more so than anything in your life.
I like talking to you, Jongho admitted.
I like talking to you too, you had replied, and then quickly added, even if you tell terrible jokes.
Hana would tease you about your international boyfriend, and you would blush and deny it vehemently. She was the only one that knew though you wished it were true.
“You’re my dream couple,” Hana had joked once. “I ship you.”
You’d groaned and shoved her off the bed in retaliation, even as your cheeks burned and your mind jumped in a hopeful dance.
-
Jongho was pretty sure that he was in love with you by the time he was sixteen.
There wasn’t any big moment or any one thing that truly made him realise. It just was. You were an important part of his life in a way no one else was. You were the first person he messaged when he woke up and the last before he went to sleep. When he ate new food, he’d think about whether you’d like it. When he listened to music, you were the first person he would recommend it to.
His eomma would always get this knowing look on her face when he brought you up. “Oh, she’d like this?” she’d say as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever said.
His appa had taken to calling you that ‘sweet foreign girl’. “Are you going to show that sweet foreign girl?” he’d ask whenever he took a photo. “Make sure you tell her the history, it’s important.”
There had been a girl that lived down the street from him during high school. Peonghwa. She was sweet, he recalled. She would always wait for him on the corner so they could walk to school together. She kissed him once before she’d darted away into her house, and Jongho remembered this sickening feeling that he’d done something wrong.
“Peonghwa-ah kissed me,” he told his eomma.
She hesitated for a moment before humming. “Okay. She’s a good girl.”
“She is,” Jongho agreed.
Eomma eyed him closely. “Did you want her to kiss you?”
He thought about his answer for a moment, debating the curling discomfort in his stomach. “No.”
Eomma pushed. “Because it’s her? Or because you’re thinking of someone else?”
Your face came to mind immediately. You updated your kakao profile picture constantly and he was greedy in how he took them in. The one you had up now was cute - you’d dressed up as a witch for some halloween party. You were all in black with your hair pulled into pigtails. You’d scrunched your nose up as you grinned into the camera.
Jongho had never lied to his eomma and he wasn’t able to start now. “Someone else.”
He’d let Peonghwa down the next day. He told her politely that he was flattered but he didn’t think about her that way. “I like...someone else.”
The first person Jongho actually told about you was Yeosang. The older friend was on the high school volleyball team with him. His phone had buzzed, a message from you and Yeosang had caught the dopey look that crossed his face when he read it.
“You didn’t mention you were dating,” Yeosang mused.
Jongho visibly startled. “Huh?”
“Dating?” his hyung gestured to the phone, still lit with your message, “I mean, I hope you don’t smile like that when you get texts from your eomma.”
Jongho’s ears burned red. “It’s not like that,” he insisted, “we’re just friends.” he paused and then added, “she lives abroad anyway. It’s not like anything is going to happen.”
Yeosang’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape. “Is that why you’ve never dated anyone?”
“Maybe,” Jongho admitted.
Of course, Yeosang told Wooyoung and it got passed around the whole team. His hyungs’ insisted on calling you his girlfriend and when no one was looking, he sometimes wondered what it would be like to actually ask you.
Do you like him? Do you like him? Would you date him? It all felt woefully embarrassing. Jongho had typed it out a few times, let the question sit there before ultimately deleting it.
Instead, he told you - you look pretty. I like talking to you. You make me laugh.
And every reply he got, every moment where you thought of him for even a second, made his heart skip a beat.
Even now, at twenty, it was still the same.
What university do you go to again? You asked.
Yonsei. He replied, why?
My school has an exchange program. Yonsei’s on the list. Should I apply?
Jongho couldn’t breathe, joy and terror and hope all weaving together in the center of his chest to make every inhale unbearable. He floundered trying to answer you, thumbs hitting the wrong letters. How do you say ‘fuck yeah’ in English again?
If you want to. He said.
Do you want me too?
He was honest. I’d love nothing more than to meet you in person.
The word love made him feel sick. Was that the right thing to say? He didn’t know. The wait for your reply felt like millenia, pushing against the fabric of time and space, because in reality, it was only a minute. Still, he watched the three dots like they were a lifeline.
I want to meet you too Jongho. Wish me luck.
-
I’ll meet you in front of Yonhi’s gates.
Roger that.
You sent your agreement and then stood at the door of your dorm room, deciding whether it was appropriate to hide away for the next semester. It had been one thing applying for the exchange program and a completely different thing to be standing in dorms on Korean soil, your closest friend just minutes away from meeting in person. The nerves and excitement had steadily increased as this dream became more of a reality, until just now when it slammed into your chest - made your heart pick up speed and your breath catch in your throat.
You stared at Jongho’s message for a moment longer. It was only natural, you reasoned, to feel anxious. You’d known Jongho for so long, he was practically a second skin, but you didn’t actually know him, right? You didn’t know what he really sounded like. You didn’t know how he really looked under the midday sun. You didn’t know how you fit into life with him in person rather than over the phone.
You’d confessed your uncertainty to your mother, only once, in the hours before you boarded the plane. “What if I’m making a mistake?” What if he doesn’t like me?
Your mum had heard the unspoken question. She smiled in that way that mothers do when they want to reassure you but can’t know for sure. She smoothed her hands over your cheeks like she once did when you were a baby and said, “Then you come home to people who love you in three months. Something tells me you won’t want to though.”
Three months. You only had three months.
Your fingers curled around the door handle and pulled sharply. You’ve got to make the most of it.
On the way, you got lost four times. Yonsei campus was vast, and more often than not, you got distracted staring at unfamiliar ancient architecture and took a wrong turn. Eventually, you got to the gate. You had searched the location and seen the photos, but it was different in person. Your first palace entrance, the gate stretched high in dramatic fashion. The reds and greens that adorned so brightly were clearly part of a restoration project.
And, standing on the other side like something out of a drama, was Jongho.
You recognised him immediately, almost instinctively. You didn’t have the forethought to wonder if that was too fast for someone you’d only seen through photos. You were too distracted, taking in that he looked so much better in person. He was taller than you thought, shoulders broader, head held higher. His nose was curved and his jaw sharp, his lips plump into a pout that you had spent far too much time analysing. When he glanced over, you took notice of the recognition that rose in his dark eyes and the way his smile blossomed so beautifully.
Fuck.
He really was unfairly attractive.
Jongho called your name, his voice slightly deeper in person than over the voice note, and raised a hand to wave. You did the same a second later, trying not to get distracted by the long strides he took to reach you.
When he hugged you, your heart leaped in your chest and you couldn’t stop the way you relaxed into his strong arms. He smelt so good and he held you so tight, he must have felt your heart beating against his. You hesitated a moment before returning the hug, arms folding around his waist and letting yourself enjoy the heat of him pressed against you, just for a moment longer than would be deemed appropriate.
When you parted, his happy grin was so wide that his eyes curled at the edges.
Truly unfairly attractive.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he laughed.
“Neither can I,” you admitted, “I don’t know why they picked me.”
Jongho nudged your shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he scolded, “You studied hard.”
“And now I’m here,” you said.
“And now you’re here,” he echoed, “with me.”
You had to be imagining the way his voice softened at the end there, or reading into the fondness that he gazed at you. You had to be because he glanced away and when he looked back, it was gone, replaced with a friendly edge. It shouldn’t have made your stomach drop as much as it did.
“I was thinking,” Jongho said, “we could get coffee and then I can release you for orientation.”
“How’d you know when my orientation is?” you wondered.
The tips of his ears went pink. “One of my hyungs is a student representative,” he admitted, “I asked him to look after you.”
This time, it was you who nudged him. “Ooh, special treatment already?” you joked.
“Only the best,” Jongho nodded, “for my friend.”
You didn’t like how tight that made your throat, and you swallowed around it determinedly. You linked your arms with his, trying not to notice how firm the muscles were when he hooked his elbow, and glanced out around them, anything to avoid making eye contact. “Lead the way, Jong-oppa,” you ordered. “This jet lag is severe. I’m going to need a litre of coffee.”
-
Jongho could still feel the heat of your hand in the crook of his arm. Your scent of your sweet perfume still lingered, stuck to his clothes where you had touched him. And Jongho felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe properly since he first saw you in person.
Of course, he knew you were pretty and funny and smart in so many ways. He’d spent so long ruminating on your face, on the voice messages you’d left him, on the memes you shared. But it was different in person. It was better.
Your face lit up when he made you laugh. Your accent slipped through so strongly on certain English words and the way Korean - learnt for him - formed on your tongue was mesmerising. You hummed when you drank your coffee and when you tried to find the right words to express yourself, your gaze drifted to the right, as if that could help you focus.
Jongho was enamoured, way more than he thought possible.
When he dropped you off at the orientation meeting zone, he almost didn’t want to let you go. Maybe you didn’t want to go either because you hovered by him as you greeted other foreign exchange students you recognised from previous online zooms you’d had to partake in. There was a small selfish and irrational part of him that wanted to invite you somewhere else - for dinner, for a walk, anything - but he held his self-restraint enough until the representatives approached and San made eye contact with him, beaming as he always did when he saw one of his precious teammates. San always called that on nights of team drinking, hooking one of them - usually Woo or Yeosang - with his strong arms. The outside hitter was a good person, Jongho knew, probably one of the best he knew. There was a reason that he was part of the student representative committee and not just because he was one of the few people he knew that spoke three languages confidently.
“Jongho,” San greeted happily. He clapped his teammate on the back before turning a charming smile onto you. “And I assume this is...” he said your name and then made a show of dramatically bowing as he introduced him, “I’m Choi San. Jongho and I play on the same team.”
You looked a little starry eyed at the sight of the man, and Jongho squashed down on the ball of displeasure that rose within him. It was just San, he reasoned. He was an attentive flirt but he would never - they all knew how Jongho felt about you and San would never betray his trust like that. Still, it twisted him up inside to see how the handsome man made you swoon without much effort. The insecure part of him needlessly compared himself - what did San have that he didn’t? Would you like San more than him? Would you want San over him?
“Charmed,” you said and smiled so prettily, unaware of the anxious and self-deprecating spiraling of his thoughts. That really didn’t help.
“Jong has told us so much about you,” San confessed with a cheeky grin.
“San-hyung,” Jongho’s cheeks turned pink.
Your eyebrows jumped up and you sounded amused when you said, “Did he now?”
“Only good things,” San assured.
“San.” Jongho tried to interrupt, but his hyung was on a roll.
“But I don’t think he truly explained how beautiful you were.”
Jongho snapped. “San.”
You were pink as well. “You told your friends I was beautiful?” you asked, shyly. Your eyes darted to him and away, like you were afraid to settle for too long. Was that good? Jongho hated how uncertain he felt.
It felt like a trap, like whatever he said something could go wrong. Jongho stumbled over his words before eventually saying, “It’s an objective truth,” he muttered.
His chest felt tight. Your eyes sparkled. San looked immensely pleased with himself.
When Jongho had taken his leave, he had been both relieved to escape the combined teasing and disappointed that he couldn’t spend any more time with you. Which was silly, he reasoned firmly, he’d already made plans with you for dinner, but walking away from you after waiting so long felt like it was happening way too soon.
Of course, he couldn’t quite escape the teasing.
Mingi threw the ball at him as soon as he entered the practice room. Jongho cursed in surprise and the taller blocker grinned at him in delight. “How’s your girlfriend?”
Seonghwa rolled his lips to hide his grin and Yunho giggled behind his hand.
Yeosang looked up from a long stretch from the middle of the court. “How is she finding Seoul?”
He had long given up trying to get them to stop calling you that. He chucked the ball back. “She’s good. She says she likes it so far,” he murmured.
“And?” Wooyoung pushed. He was throwing a ball into the air as far as he could and rushing around to catch it. “Did you fall into her arms and declare your love for her?”
Once again, Jongho felt hot. “No, of course not. I-I wouldn’t - that isn’t appropriate, I just...”
“Waaaa,” Hongjoong arched a surprised eyebrow, “How’d you manage to form a sentence in front of her?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted bitterly. He moved to one side of the practice room to drop his bag and shed off his hoodie - reluctant, because it meant he couldn’t smell you as he worked. Pathetic, he mocked himself and frowned down at the fabric like it offended him.
He could feel his teammate’s - his friend’s - eyes on him. He had no doubt that could read his genuine frustration, leading to the pause in teasing. They were good like that. It was one of the reasons they had remained friends for so long - each of his hyungs knew when they could mess around and when things were getting too real. It was why Jongho knew everyone was listening when he continued talking, “I didn’t expect...that seeing her in person would be so different. She was just...”
So beautiful, so smart, so charming, so funny. So much more in person than just in text. Was it possible to fall in love with someone who already had your heart? Because Jongho was pretty sure that was what happened.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Yunho wondered, voice softer, “Means you weren’t imagining your connection.”
Jongho let the hoodie drop on top of his bag and turned around. “Maybe, or maybe it's worse,” he murmured, “She’s even more perfect than I could have imagined.” He licked his lips, “And she’s my friend.”
“A friend you’ve had feelings for since high school,” Seonghwa reminded, “friendship is a good start to a relationship.”
Jongho pressed his lips together and tried not to dwell on that. He knew his older friend was just trying to help him, but he couldn’t bear it, not if it caused things to fall apart. His friendship with you was one of the most important things in his life - the idea of risking it...
Mingi piped in to say, “If he has the balls to do something about it.”
Jongho’s eyes went sharp and Wooyoung threw the ball he had at Mingi’s head with a shout of, “dude, timing.”
Mingi ducked out of the way before it hit him. “What? Let’s be honest, Jong’s going to spend the next three months pining, pretending he doesn’t want to kiss her, and then when she goes back home, none the wiser, he’ll regret it.”
“I don’t want to-”
Mingi waved his hand dismissively. “Ruin anything, I get it dude, I do, but like - come on, not everyone gets this chance with their first and only love. She came here to see you.”
Jongho corrected it immediately. “She came here to study.”
Seonghwa, ever the peacemaker, spoke with reluctant disagreement. “She could have picked anywhere, right? But she picked here. For you.”
For you. God, Jongho’s heart did a traitorious leap at that. He swallowed and found himself tensing as if to turn that soft thought into discomfort. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to not miss your chance, bro,” Mingi said earnestly.
Hongjoong called for attention. “I want to practice,” he insisted, “and while you practice setting, you can decide whether it's worth the risk.”
The captain’s words echoed around Jongho’s head as much as Mingi’s. Worth the risk. Was it? Were you? It seemed so simple when he was thinking about it alone, void of real-life consequences.
Of course, you were worth it. Everything about you, about their relationship, about their history with each other, was worth it.
But it was all that which was at risk should things go south. He could just picture your pretty face, twisted in disgust or pity as you told him “I don’t see you like that”. His nightmarish imagining filled in the aftermaths with distance and tight smiles, low contact becoming unanswered questions.
But the hopeful part of him dreamed. He could see your smile, bright and joyful as when you saw him for the first time, as you told him “I feel the same.” He could imagine being allowed to press his lips to your plump bottom lip, to not have to fight the urge to pull you into a hug; to really know what it felt like to hold your hand tightly in his.
Was it worth the risk? At the end of practice, palms aching and shirt sweat drenched, Jongho had made his decision.
-
When people asked you how you were enjoying your time in South Korea, you were honest when you told them, “I love it.”
You loved the reliable wifi on the subway. You loved how cheap iced coffee was. You loved the call buttons in restaurants so that you didn’t have to try and make awkward eye contact with your server to get more drinks.
You loved your dormmates - Korean and foreign exchange students alike - and how welcome they made you feel. You loved your classes and the chance to build your Korean speaking skills properly. But most of all, the reason why you enjoyed your time so much, you loved your time with Jongho.
Any fears you might have had about your friendship moving from online to the real world was unfounded. Jongho folded you into his life as if you had always been there and you supposed you always had, in some sense. Old jokes and memes became part of everyday conversation. He reminded you to drink water, just now he was pushing a bottle into your hand with a disapproving frown. The names of friends, his teammates, were as familiar to you as you were to them.
When you finally met the volleyball boys, Wooyoung had asked if it was okay to hug you “because I feel like I’ve known you for years. Jongho never shuts up about you.”
“He spoke about you all too,” you had told them, “he really looks up to you all.”
Jongho mock-groaned. “Don’t tell them that.”
Yunho pretended to wipe a tear. “Jong-ah, you look up to us?”
“He has to,” Mingi said, “He’s just a little bear.”
The blond might have been quick witted but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Jongho’s elbow to the stomach.
“Bear?” you arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Why bear?”
“He’s got the strength of a bear,” Hongjoong explained, “one of the best hitters on the team.”
“Plus he looks like a teddy bear,” San added cheekily. He giggled when he got a kick to the back of the ankles in retaliation.
You looked at Jongho’s narrowed eyes and pressed lips, and gasped in delight. “Oh my god, you do look like a teddy bear.”
“See?” San defended himself.
Jongho stuck his bottom lip out. “Please don’t encourage them.”
When you called him baby bear later, he sighed in despair and put an arm around your shoulder. Wooyoung and Mingi made a show of complaining that you were getting special treatment.
“That’s because I actually like her,” Jongho shot back immediately.
Of course, that caused more objections, as intended, but you couldn’t focus on what was being said. No, not when the comfort weight of his arm around your shoulders made you feel warm all over, not when the scent of his perfume - musky with citrus undertones - flooded your senses and made your heart clench with torturous interest.
He’d been doing that more, you had noticed. Finding himself next to you - an arm around your shoulder, a hand brushing yours when you walked together, body angled your way as he listened to you with his undivided attention. It was sweet but perhaps, too much for your poor heart. Every time, he made eye contact with you or he reached for you, you felt yourself melt every time. It was so easy to forget that you were friends and nothing more when he smiled at you like that.
You’d gotten used to saying that. We’re just friends. People had asked, mostly those in your dorm who had caught sight of Jongho dropping you off basically every night. He always did the same thing - hugged you close, wished you a good night, and would stay on the porch until you’d shut the door securely behind you.
Soyeon, one of the student representatives residing in your dorm, had wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Making friends with the locals huh?” she teased.
You’d explained the long story of your friendship and ended it with the familiar assertion of friendliness. “Nothing else,” you’d asserted, “Jongho doesn’t see me that way.”
Soyeon looked more amused than anything. “I’ve been to a few parties with the volleyball boys,” she said, “and I’ve never seen Jongho take even the tiniest interest in anybody. No one night stand rumours, no relationships that can be confirmed, nothing. But you show up? He’s here every night, walking you home, giving you his jackets.”
You glanced down as if guilty. The familiar weight of the jersey sat on your shoulders. Jongho was so much broader than yourself so it hung off your frame, the sleeves over your fingers. You liked wearing you, you’d shyly admit, because it smelt like Jongho. Under the older girl’s clear gaze and unwavering explanation, you felt like you were doing something wrong.
“I was cold,” you explained quietly.
“And our star hitter was only so happy to warm you up,” Soyeon winked.
The clear innuendo made you flush. “We’re friends, nothing else,” you insisted, “this is a friend’s jacket. The jacket of a friend. We’re not, I’m not - we’re friends.”
“Hey, I’m not judging you,” Soyeon put her hands up in defense, “Friends, more than friends, whatever you say.”
She’d walked away, leaving you trembling and nervous and horrifically aware that the way you felt right now was very much not friendly.
When you texted Hana that you might have a crush on Jongho, she sent you back: well yeah, obviously.
That was the thought that lingered with you now, squished between Jongho and Yeosang in the tiny booth of the beef barbecue restaurant just outside of campus. It had become a weekly routine to meet somewhere - a local restaurant, a park with convenience store ramyeon and fried chicken, or hongjoong’s off campus apartment - and just destress after a long week of classes and high expectations. You did enjoy the time, you liked Jongho’s friends a lot and it was a wonderful time to just relax.
But then Jongho would put the first piece of meat on your plate or laugh happily beside your ear, his body shaking against you, and you’d remember that you like-liked him.
God, you felt like a silly school kid. Hopelessly and pathetically overwhelmed by your crush, and Jongho didn’t make it any easier.
See, you knew your friend was handsome, funny, helpful - but it was so different in person. You could see the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, hear the way he formed his words so intelligently, feel how earnest he was in helping you. It was like the idea of him had formed into reality and it was so much better than you could have imagined.
You’d dated before. Your last boyfriend had been an engineering student at your university and told you that “he wasn’t ready for a relationship” before immediately starting to date one of his housemates. Before all the red flags became apparent, he had been handsome - but not like Jongho - and smart - but not like Jongho - and he made you laugh - but not like Jongho.
It was almost pathetic how much you were comparing them and you had this horrible feeling that you’d be looking for Choi Jongho in every man you dated going forward. Fuck.
“Are you okay?” when he ducked his head to speak with you, his breath was warm against your cheek.
You shivered, crossed your legs at the ankles for physical support, and smiled brightly. “Fine. Just thinking about the amount of homework I have to do.”
He rapped on your forehead gently and you tried not to visibly melt at the feeling of his fingertips on your skin. “Nope. No homework thoughts allowed.”
Yunho swept his gaze across the room and then darted back. He lowered his voice when he said, “Don’t look now. The lacrosse girls are out.”
Mingi sat up straighter in interest and Jongho let out a long suffering groan.
You blinked in confusion. “What’s wrong with lacrosse?”
“It’s less the team and more one person in particular,” Seonghwa explained.
San poked Jongho on the shoulder. “Minji has a crush on our baby bear.”
You swallowed your discomfort at the announcement as Jongho batted at San’s hand. “It’s not a crush,” he said, “she just thinks I’m playing hard to get.”
“Are you?” you found yourself asking.
“No,” Jongho’s answer was quick, “No, I’m not interested.”
Your gaze drifts over. Across the room, the girls were still wearing their kit - you vaguely remembered the school’s itinerary email that shared the lacrosse team had a game today - and seemed unaware of the other team nearby.
“Which one’s Minji?” you asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jongho objected as Yeosang answered, “the one on the left. Red hair.”
Ah. The girl in question was laughing at something the teammate across from her said, eyes scrunching at the corners in pure joy. You hated how the sight of her hit you in the chest.
“She’s cute,” you murmured.
“And I’m not interested,” Jongho said firmly. He stabbed one of his chopsticks into a chicken wing as if it personally offended him.
“Soyeon told me about the volleyball boys,” you mentioned. “I didn’t know that you guys were so popular.”
Yunho and Wooyoung grinned. Hongjoong turned pink. Seonghwa coughed into his hand and ducked his head. Yeosang and Mingi gave you an embarrassed grin. Jongho kept his head on the plate in front of him.
“We...have stories,” Yeosang said slowly, “except for Jong. He doesn’t really like that scene.”
“Which adds to his mystery,” Wooyoung added.
“Unfortunately,” Jongho sighed.
You can’t really explain what this information does to you. Curiosity wars with delight and relief. It shouldn’t, it doesn’t really mean anything, but the part of your brain that had already imagined growing old together read it as something important.
You find yourself watching him again, tracing the curve of his jaw and the pretty curve of his nose. You take note of how his lips are angled downwards unhappily and how long he’s been chewing that piece of chicken.
When you reached up, you intended to touch his cheek but panicked that it was too intimate and changed the destination to pat the top of his head. He looked at you in surprise as you smiled and hoped you looked normal. Friendly.
“Aigoo,” you cooed, “I didn’t know my baby bear had an admirer.”
He watched you, eyes wide and round. You told yourself you were imagining the soft edges or the twitch of his head as if he was leaning into you. You told yourself that the ‘my’ didn’t mean anything, that it was innocent. You told yourself that it didn’t mean anything when Jongho just sighed, shoulders slumping, and didn’t immediately try to remove your hands from him, like he did with his other friends.
“Minji can admire all she wants,” he murmured, “she’s not the one I’m interested in.” Before you had a chance to respond - not that you’d have been able to, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth at the intensity of those words - Jongho picked a piece of meat off the grill and held it out to you. “Try this cut. It’s good.”
-
Since Jongho had announced he was going to ask you out, his friends had been intensely invested. Every night, after he’d drop you back to the shared dorm building, he’d get asked the same thing - “so?” - and he’d have to shake his head or avert his gaze.
It was truly embarrassing how terrified he was about taking that step.
He always had an excuse as to why he couldn’t ask. Too much to drink, someone walked passed, you saw someone from your course; his voice had broken and you’d laughed too hard, or -
Yeosang looked unimpressed. “She nearly choked on sweets?”
Jongho hummed and kept his gaze on a loose thread at the end of his shirt. “She ate them too fast,” he murmured, “And I don’t want her to think of a date with me and link that to her near death experience.”
“Yup, I’ll admit, that wasn’t an excuse I had predicted,” San commented.
“Not an excuse,” Jongho challenged, “I just, um, it has to be-”
“Perfect,” Yunho and Mingi finished his sentence with a roll of their eyes.
Jongho flushed. How many times had he really said this? “It’s important,” he insisted, “I just - it’s going to change everything and I...I have to do it right.”
He’d imagined it so many times. That perfect moment. In reality, he knew it couldn’t be possible. Rationality, what he dreamed of was never going to match reality, but there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting it to at least be similar right? To have that one wonderful moment where confessing his feelings for you felt right rather than the most anxiety inducing thing he’s ever done.
“You’re gonna miss your chance,” Wooyoung scolded, “you aren’t the only one who fancies her, you know?”
Jongho froze as his heart leaped horrifically into his throat. “What?”
“I heard it in my dance class,” the libero admitted, “Apparently, Hyunjin already asked her out.”
Jongho felt adrift, like his world had been unended by such a simple revelation. With 5 words, his mind was swirling, his chest tightened by the panic pumping through him.
He knew Hyunjin - he was Wooyoung’s friend of a friend who kept each other company during long rehearsal stretches. They’d spoken a few times at parties to know that Hyunjin was genuinely a nice person, and he wasn’t blind to the man’s attractiveness. He could just imagine the smooth smile that would have made you blush or the charming pick-up lines that would have made you blush.
You didn’t tell him, he thought vaguely, you didn’t tell him about any date.
“What did she say?” Jongho asked, though he didn’t want to hear the answer.
Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as he hesitated. “Jongho...”
Jongho was up so quickly, the sofa pushed backwards on the wooden floor slightly. “I have to go,” he declared.
Hongjoong looked startled with worry. “Jong, are you-”
But the maknae of their group was already heading for the door, stumbling into his shoes and forgetting the keys still in the pocket of his hung jacket. He couldn’t think clearly, not with so much anxiety and dread coursing through his bloodstream. He didn’t know whether to laugh or scream or curse himself out for his avoidance. He should have thought - you were wonderful, perfect even, why wouldn’t anyone else see that?
Their team captain looked ready to follow behind but was stopped by Seonghwa’s grip on his elbow. “Let him go,” Hwa sighed, “he’s gotta figure it out himself.”
“Maybe it’ll be the kick up the arse that he needs,” Yeosang murmured hopefully.
Mingi hummed in agreement. “50,000 won that he actually asks her out.”
“50,000 that he martyrs himself.” Yunho shot back.
“Guys,” San shook his head and then leant forward on his knees to add, “50,000 that he does ask her out but he fucks up the first time.”
Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose.
-
Soyeon had been out the night before and had made it clear she wasn’t to be disturbed, which was probably why she looked half asleep and unimpressed in your doorway. You didn’t get the chance to ask her why she was there before she said, “your boyfriend is at the door.”
You didn’t even try to correct her, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You’d seen Jongho just an hour or so before, and he’d seen fine. You couldn’t think of a reason as to why he’d be here now, unless - you wondered if there was some kind of emergency, something that had him rushing here.
You muttered a quick apology to the older woman and moved out of your room, down the short hallway and stairs to get to the main door. On the steps, Jongho looked breathless, pink in the cheeks and eyes wide. You desperately scanned him for any signs of injury.
“I need to talk to you,” the words tumbled over his lips. “Alone.”
It sounded serious, terrifyingly so, and you could only nod in stunned agreement. He followed you up the steps quietly and your mind whirled. You jumped from one reason to another wildly - a family member hurt, an argument with the volleyball boys, an issue with the coach, a problem with a professor, or - your heart did a painful lurch - did he know you had feelings for him?
You let him into your dorm room and the door shut behind you with a weight of finality. Jongho hadn’t been in your room before, you realised, and a sense of inadequacy filled you. Your bed wasn’t made, covers crumbled from where you had been laying on him. You hadn’t cracked a window in a while because mosquitos kept getting in and you had a worried moment when you thought the space smelt funny, despite the diffuser you had placed on your desk. There was a pile of dirty clothes falling out of the basket because you hadn’t had time to go to the laundry room and god, yep, that was a pair of your comfortable granny pants sticking out the top.
You shuffled yourself so your body was blocking the view of the mess before you spoke. “What’s wrong, Jong-oppa? Are you okay?”
Jongho’s gaze was steady and his voice was raw when he said, “don’t go out with Hyunjin.”
You startled, surprised. “What?”
“Please,” Jongho begged. “I don’t think I could handle it.”
“Handle?” you repeated faintly.
When Jongho reached for you, you let his hands warm yours without much thought. You’ve never refused his touch and, like always, it made your heart pound in your ears. It was made worse by the way that he was looking at you, a desperate tinge seeping into his gaze. I’m dreaming, you thought, this has to be...
“If you’re going to date anyone, date me,” Jongho stated. His fingers flexed around yours. “Please.”
“Jongho...”
“It’s your choice. You can say no, fuck, I promise I won’t make it weird.”
“Jongho.”
“I just...please don’t date Hyunjin. The idea of him getting to hold your hand or kiss you o-or -”
“Jong,” you said his name louder, more forcefully. You had to hear it properly, you needed to be sure. But when he looked up at you like that, it couldn’t be anything else, right? “You want to go on a date with me?”
“I want to take you on as many dates as you’d let me,” he confessed.
Your voice shook. “Where?”
“Huh?” Jongho blinked.
You elaborated, “Where are you going to take me on our date?”
“You...you want to?”
The corner of your lips twitched up into a smile. “Do you want me to say no?”
“No,” Jongho said quickly, “but um, I didn’t expect you to actually say yes. Are you sure?”
“Probably the most sure I’ve been about anything,” you admitted.
Jongho shuffled closer, until the tops of his socks bumped against your house slippers. You noticed how much taller he was like this, looking down at you with such warmth. His thumb traced circles on the back of your hand. “Can I kiss you?”
You shuddered a breath. It was insane how such a sweet question made you fall for him all over again. “Fuck yeah.”
The first touch of lips was soft, a gentle touch with an unsteady breath. It was a moment of stepping over that boundary, of the line between friendship and more being crossed. Jongho was so careful with you and you leant into him fully, eyes fluttering closed.
The second kiss was firmer, more assured. You shaped his lips the way you liked and your free hand splayed across the center of his chest to feel his heart beating against your palm. Jongho’s nose bumped against yours as he let you guide him, show him what you wanted, and obliged happily.
The third kiss was molten. It burned your skin as he took control, pressing in closer and when he licked into your mouth, you sighed in contentment. Your hands stretched until they could intertwine in Jongho’s hair, gripping tight enough to make him curse. He rocked forward instinctively and you could feel him, the bulge in his jogging bottoms a delicious sign of how much he was into this, into you. It gave you that pleasant fuzzy feeling at the back of your head and, driven by that feeling, you let one hand drift lower to feel him in your palm.
“Ah, shit,” Jongho twitched in your hold before rearing back. He looked even more attractive like this - pink cheeks, eyes blackened and lips swollen. You rubbed your thumb against the seam, only stopped when a hand grabbed at your wrist, panicked in how it stilled your movements.
“Wait, I...I’ve never...” his voice warbled, insecurity seeping in.
You didn’t want him to feel that way, embarrassed around you, but you couldn’t stop the disbelief that crossed your face. Could you really be blamed? Choi Jongho was a gorgeous man, a popular athlete; you knew he had the attention of others in the university. Had he really never... “Like, at all?”
Jongho pursed his lips and diverted his gaze to somewhere over your shoulder. “I’ve never been interested in anyone,” he said, “no one but you.”
If it were possible for you to love him more, you did at that moment. You pushed yourself up on tip toes to press a firm kiss to his lips and you grip on his clothed dick - mournfully because fuck, he felt so good - lessened. “We don’t have to do anything,” you murmured, “kissing is enough. Being with you is enough.”
Jongho’s expression was unreadable but you knew that meant he was thinking, debating his opinions and weighing the best response. He always did that when it was something important and you knew - your feelings, your relationship and anywhere it went - was incredibly important to him.
Eventually, he let out a low sigh. “Show me,” he asked, voice rougher than it was before, “show me how to make you feel good.”
You felt it in your stomach, the words and the earnest way he said them. “Are you sure?”
Jongho’s fingers released your wrist, stepping closer into your hold. One hand came to cup your jaw, stroking at the skin there until your eyes fluttered. “Show me,” he repeated.
Who were you to deny him?
“Strip,” you ordered, voice trembling. “And get on the bed.”
Later, under the thin bedsheets on your too small bed, you laid half on top of Jongho’s broad chest. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, and listened to the beating of his heart against your cheek. It was the most content you had ever felt, safe and secure in his arms. Jongho traced ticklish patterns along the curve of your back, fingers dipping low to trace bite marks that he’d littered your thighs and hips with. You shivered and nudged your nose affectionately into his pec.
You looked up when his trail stalled and frowned as Jongho’s eyebrows furrowed together, as a thought came thundering back to him. “What about Hyunjin?”
You tilted your head. “What about him?”
“He asked you out.”
Oh, right. Yeah. Jongho had come to you, looking so panicked, so desperate with love once hidden pouring into his words. You had been focusing on more important things, you reasoned.
You shook your head. “He didn’t. Hyunjin asked me to help him with his English language assignment.”
“Oh.”
“Who told you that he did?” you wondered.
“Wooyoung,” Jongho admitted.
You huffed a laugh. In the short time you’d known his volleyball friends, Wooyoung was friends with everyone and thus, the person who seemed to know everything. He was also a terrible gossip and had more than once shared the most dramatic version of the story he’d heard. “Really?”
“He was really convincing,” Jongho defended himself.
You didn’t hide your smile. “Besides,even if Hyunjin had asked me out, I would have said no.”
Relief danced in Jongho’s eyes as he tried to hide it behind feigned nonchalance. “Oh? Why? He’s a good guy.”
“Well yeah, he’s smart and gorgeous,” you agreed and snorted in laughter when Jongho looked down at you with a deadpan disappointment. “But, see I already have feelings for somebody else.”
Jongho’s hold tightened around you, possessive in a way that made your toes curl. “Yeah?”
You hummed. “Yeah, we’ve known each other for years,” you murmured, “and he’s the best person I know.”
“And the most handsome?” Jongho teased. Another time, you might have rolled your eyes, pretended to feel nauseous and tell him nothing of the sort.
It was different now though.
You reached up to cup his cheek, caressing the soft skin under his pretty eyes. “He’s beautiful,” you admitted and delighted in the way that Jongho went pink and grinned shyly, gums on display.
“Funny, I have someone like that,” he said. He angled his head to press a sweet kiss to your palm. “I’ve been in love with her for most of my life, to be honest.”
God, the word love made your stomach drop in the best way. “That’s a long time.”
“Yeah, but she’ll always be worth the wait,” he said, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rearing up to kiss him again.
-----------------
a/n: thank you so much for reading!! pls check out the works of the other writers in the collab :)
Summary: you and your female best friend Seonghwa take your close friendship to the next level.
Content warnings: 18+ no minors. Seonghwa is female in this with female body parts. Uses she/her/they pronouns. Mutual masturbation. Nipple play. Assisted masturbation. Use of sex toys. Oral sex. Face riding. Multiple orgasms.
“Ugh, I hate my body. I can’t fill out any shirts how I want.” Seonghwa groaned, turning and posing different ways in the mirror.
“Please.” You rolled your eyes and leaned back against the pillows of her bed. “You’re literally a model. I don’t want to hear it.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t be critical. I mean, look.” She said, taking her shirt off and turning to face you. Her breasts bare and perky. You had seen them before since you both have been friends practically your whole life. This was no different to you.
“Yes, I see your boobs. I’ve seen them many times. I don’t get the issue?” You persisted, making her scoff.
“Yours are so much better. You have the perfect size and the perfect nipples. Every outfit you wear looks great on you.”
You grumbled and pulled your own top off, revealing your breasts.
“Look, they’re uneven.”
“Oh, whatever!” Seonghwa brushed you off. “I guess nobody ever likes their body.”
“I guess not. Especially their vagaina.”
“Wait, you don’t like your vagina? Why?” Seonghwa turned around to you in shock.
“I dunno.” You shrugged. “I guess I don’t really have anything to compare it to. So I think it looks weird.”
“Hmm..” she thought for a moment and then started to undo the button on her pants.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Your eyes widen in panic.
“I think we have known each other long enough where we can be naked in front of each other and it not be weird.” She told you. “Plus, I’m already half naked. We’re almost there as it is.”
Seonghwa dropped her pants and panties and stood naked in front of you. She didn’t give you much time to prepare some sort of reaction before walking over to the bed and sitting down on it, legs spread open for you to take a closer look.
“See?” She took her slender fingers between her legs and spread her lips. Her labia spread open like a flower, revealing her clit that was just long enough to slightly poke out of her lips. “It’s kinda pretty right? Like a flower.”
“It is. But, mine doesn’t look like that.” You sighed. “Maybe mine is weird or something.”
“Enough of that. Show me!” She said all frustrated, making you giggle. You complied and pushed your pants down your thighs and tossed them off the bed. Spreading your legs just like she was for her to look at your pussy.
“It’s so pretty, are you kidding? You have a porn star pussy.” Seonghwa gasped, craning her neck forward to get a closer look.
“Me? That’s definitely yours. Everything looks so.. perfect I guess. I mean, my clit doesn’t look like that. It does but just, yours looks more open and exposed.”
“That’s true, it is. That’s why it’s perfect for the clit sucker toy I bought a while back. The suction cup settles over it nicely.”
“Clit sucker? They make those?”
Seonghwa quickly turned to her bedside table and opened her drawer, taking out a medium size object.
“Ta-da!” She said, holding up the toy. “This is my other best friend.”
“I still don’t get it. It sucks? It doesn’t vibrate?” You asked, still bewildered. Seonghwa spread her legs again and bend them up at the knee, placing her feet flat on the mattress.
“So this part right here..” she pointed to the white suction cup on the end of the toy. “..goes over my clit.”
She brought the toy down between her legs and secured the end around her clit. Your eyes widened in shock at the view in front of you but, couldn’t find the words to speak. You were speechless.
“Then, I just hit this power button and-“ you heard the very soft hum of the toy coming to life. Seonghwa’s hips twitched ever so slightly but, her face stayed casual. “-and now it’s sucking my clit.”
You watched her cunt intently, noticing how wetness started to spread over her labia. She didn’t make a sound but, her breathing started to get a bit rapid. You looked up at her face and found her flushed, lips parted ever so slightly.
“So um, yeah-“ she stuttered, voice a bit weak. “That’s how it works.”
“And that’s all it does?” You ask softly.
“It has more speeds. It can suck even harder.” She clicked the button one more time and the strumming of the toy got a bit louder. You saw her toes press deep into the mattress.
“Um, do you mind if- I don’t know if you thought it be weird if I, you know..” she stuttered through short gasps. “..I’m just right there.”
She was asking if she could cum in front of you, on the brink of climax. Her arousal was dripping onto the bed and you could see a faint pulsing in her entrance. It should be weird, even for friends. But, then again, why did you want to see it? You looked up at her and found her staring at you. Bottom lip tucked in painfully between her teeth as she tried to hold back her orgasm while she got your permission. Seeing her like that took your breath away and made you wet between your thighs. Not knowing what to say, you just nodded your head ‘yes.’
Seonghwa clicked the button one more time on the toy, making the suction stronger. Her heels lifted off the bed and her eyes fluttered closed, her pelvis rocking back and forth as if she was grinding onto the toy.
“Oh fuck.. I’m gonna cum.” She whimpered. Her voice and pretty sounds she made made a wave of head spread to your cheeks and nipples harden.
“Let me see.” You whispered, not even realizing you said it out loud. The words landed erotically in her ears and made her come crashing down into her release. She moaned loudly with her head thrown back in pleasure. You couldn’t take you eyes off of her cunt, watching as her hole clenched open and closed as her orgasm continued. You suddenly wondered what it would feel like to have your fingers inside of her while she did that.
Seonghwa clicked off the toy and pulled it away from her pussy, body convulsing slightly with aftershocks of her orgasm. She started to giggle, feeling floaty from cumming. You giggled to but more due to the shock of what had just happened. Still admiring her body in front of you.
“Wow so.. yeah. That just happened.” She said, sitting back up in the bed once she found her breath. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I’ve shown you how to use it so use it. If you like it I’ll get you one for your birthday.” She smiled and handed you the toy. The suction cup was still wet with the remainder of Seonghwa’s orgasm. You hesitated just a little but the got into the same position Seonghwa had just been in, spreading yourself open in front of her. She immediately saw how wet you were but, didn’t make a comment. Not wanting you to chicken out.
You placed the suction around your clit, feeling it hit into the opening nice and snug. You looked up at Seonghwa, trying to find some sort of reassurance. She nodded her head slightly, a small smile on her face.
“Yes, like that. Now, hit the button one time.” She told you, and you clicked the toy on.
“OH.” You gasped and your toes curled. The toy started to suck on your clit, feeling like the softest lips pulling gently at the swollen nub.
“Right? Doesn’t it feel good?”
You just nodded your head frantically, afraid you would moan if you opened your lips. Your fingers of your free hand clawed into the sheets desperately.
“Turn it up a little.” She told you and you clicked it one more time. The strength making your eyes roll into the back of your head and pussy clench. You bit your lip trying to hold back the noises threatening to spill into the room. Seonghwa noticed your hesitation.
“You can cum if you want. I don’t mind.” She encouraged you. “Whatever you need to do to get there is okay.”
You breathed out a whimper an started to let your moans flow out freely. The sounds echoing off her bedroom walls and settling between her thighs, making her wet again. She watched you for minutes, entranced by you but realizing there was something keeping you from your climax.
“Is something wrong?” She asks.
“No- I just- I’m so close. But I keep losing it.” You whimper, frustrated.
“What do you need? Seriously, tell me anything.” She told you and you immediately knew what you needed to ask for. You looked up at your best friend, worried how things would change if you asked and it went further than what this already was. But, the fire between your legs made you decide to worry about it later. Right now, you were desperate to cum.
“Can you touch my nipples?” You asked her softly, your noice full of nerves. Seonghwa nodded and climbed over to where you were sitting. She placed two of her fingers on top of one of your pebbled nipples and started to rub circles on the hard peak.
“Oh god..” you groaned, throwing your head back from the new stimulation.
“Is this okay?” Seonghwa asked breathlessly. You looked over at her and nodded your head. The expression on your face making her soaked. She could tell by your glossy eyes and trembling lips you were about to cum. She was entranced, locked in your irises, and her face slowly started to drift closer and closer to yours. Her fingers still on your breasts and now her lips brushing against yours, you leaned in and connected to her soft mouth.
The kisses were soft and gentle at first as you both cautiously found each other’s comfortable rhythm. The intensity of the kisses deepening as you continued, your thighs opening up and pelvis pushing into your toy harder as things heated up. It felt so good. Too good. And when Seonghwa snaked her long tongue into your mouth and dragged it across yours, you came.
You moaned into her mouth as your orgasm washed over you and she moaned back, consumed in the erotic nature of the intimate moment. She continued to kiss you until your orgasm was over. Your hips twitched when you pulled the toy off your swollen and throbbing clit.
You pulled away from Seonghwa and stared at her gasping for air and eyes wide. Her expression was like a mirror, completely in shock. Not only had you both just masturbated in front of each other, you had both kissed. Something more intimate and close than anything sexual you both could have possibly done together.
“I-“ you tried to think of something to say but nothing came to mind. You were afraid of the mood becoming awkward before Seonghwa finally spoke.
“So, did it feel like a real mouth?” She asked you, her voice a bit weak. You didn’t respond for a minute, taken aback by her casual question after such an intimate moment.
“Oh.” You shook your head ever so slightly to focus yourself. “I uh- I wouldn’t know. Nobody has ever gone down on me before.”
“Are you serious? God- you’ve always dated such losers.” She said, getting up onto her knees on the bed and crawling over to settle herself between yours.
“Wait, what-“
“We’re best friends, right?” She asked you, looking up at you from between your thighs. Her beautiful face just inches from your throbbing pussy.
“Right.”
“Okay, so, this is just us being really close friends.” She shrugged, a small smile spreading across her face. “Don’t overthink it.”
Your tiniest tinge of wariness was greatly overshined by how horny the view of Seonghwa between your legs made you. Instead of holding yourself back, you nodded, and spread your legs further as an invitation. She winked at you in reassurance and wrapped her arms around your hips, using her grip to pull you close to her. And, with one swift move, she pushed her tongue between your folds and licked her way up to your clit.
“Oh-fuck!” You moaned in shock, your back arching off of the bed. You tried to squirm away but Seonghwa held you securely to her mouth, circling your clit between her lips. She suckled on your clit, lapping the swollen bundle of nerves with her tongue periodically. Each drag of her tongue making the pleasure grow even more intensely between your thighs. This didn’t feel like the toy she had let you use. It was so SO much better.
“Seonghwa.. Hwa, oh my god. Wait-“ your fingers laced themselves in her hair, not knowing if you should push her away or pull her face deeper into your cunt. She knew how intense this must be for you but, refused to let up, wanting you to feel every bit of pleasure she gave. She used all her strength to fight off any attempts to push her away from your pussy. Her mouth never ceasing to lick and suck your now overstimulated clit. She loved how your hips tensed around her cheeks each time she flicked her tongue in just a certain way that made electricity shoot through your body. She was obsessed with the pretty noises she was pulling out of you, your moans turning her on. She started to moan in return, the vibrations landing directly on your clit and brining you right to the brink.
“Oh my god, Hwa. Stop. Stop or I’m gonna cum-“ you choked out the warning, unable to finish as she excitedly sucked down hard on your clit, sending you into an earth shattering orgasm. You came dramatically on her tongue, your back arching off the bed and thighs clamping down around her shoulders. She lapped at your clit until your orgasm subsided, your body twitching as her tongue became a bit too much.
“Please! Okay, okay!” You giggled, finally succeeding in forcing her away from you. Seonghwa smiled, her lips and chin glossy in your cum. She looked more beautiful than she ever had before. Almost as if you were really seeing her for the first time.
“Did you like it?” She asked eagerly.
“Uh, yeah. You couldn’t tell?” You laughed in disbelief that she was actually asking you that question. “How did you learn how to do that?”
“Just by messing around with a few people. Practice makes perfect.”
“Is it hard?” You asked, a strong tone of curiosity in your voice.
“Not really. You just have to try different things and listen to how your partner responds to it. And, when it’s sounding good, don’t stop what you’re doing.” She paused briefly, biting her lip and looking at you with nothing but lust in her eyes. “Lay down. Let me teach you.”
You settled down onto the pillow and Seonghwa crawled up further on the bed, straddling your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, not knowing where she was going with this. She could sense your hesitation.
“I’m going to sit on your face.” She explained. “It seems intimidating but, it’s one of the easiest ways to learn.” She scooted up further, her pussy now directly over you. She was glistening wet, and you swear you could see her clit pulsing from how aroused she was. It made your mouth water.
“I’m going to lower myself down onto you but, I’ll hold most of my weight. You’re going to use your tongue on me just like I did to you.”
You let her know it was okay to continue and she lowered her cunt down onto your mouth, your outstretched tongue slipping inside of her folds. The taste was mild and a bit salty, delicious. You hummed into her cunt in satisfaction from how tasty she was, making her eyes roll back into her head.
“Shit..” she mumbled. “Now, stick your tongue out. Make sure I can feel it against my clit-yeah, fuck. Right there!” Seonghwa could feel your tongue against her throbbing clit. Without giving it much through, she started to rock her hips to drag herself across your slick tongue, riding it. You grabbed her hips after you heard her moan of pleasure, letting you know what you were doing was feeling good, and helped her move as she rode your face.
Seonghwa’s moans sounded almost as if she was singing, her heavenly noises helping you get into the rhythm of what she needed you to do an be. Your hands released her thighs for a few minutes to reach up and grab her breasts, taking the soft rounds in your palms and giving them a squeeze as she rode you. She looked beautiful, ethereal, above you. And you could tell by her facial expression she was close to another orgasm.
“You’re doing so fucking good baby. Right there! Right there-“ her hips bucked wildly on each side of your face as her climax rushed towards her, pressing her hips down hard against you as she chased the feeling. You could feel her cunt tensing and, with two more thrusts of her thighs, felt her clit start to pulsate against your tongue as her orgasm washed over her.
Seonghwa moaned loudly, gripping onto her headboard as she came to keep her upright. She continued to ride your tongue through her climax until she couldn’t take it anymore, her body flexing her to pull away from your mouth. She rolled off of you and collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. You licked your lips to wide away the delicious remnants of her climax left on your skin and turned to face your best friend.
“Did I do okay for my first time?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever cum like that before. Ever.” She laughed and you joined in, giggling in giddy bliss.
“I can’t believe we just did that.”
“I can! It was going to happen sooner or later.” Seonghwa said, still in a fit of giggles. “What else are best friends for?”
—————————————
Finally finished after quite a long time ❤️ hope you enjoyed.
[ex-husband!wooyoung x ex-wife!reader] 𓈒𓏸.°•
smut minors dni 18+ warnings in each part
after fourteen years together and one kid, you finally grew the balls to divorce your husband, wooyoung. you should've known better, that it wouldn't be so simple─ he loves you too fucking much to let you go that easily.
WIFEY [PART ONE] 9K WORDS
─── it was a work trip, only one weekend away from kyungmin, you think wooyoung is fully capable of taking care of your son for a few days... but then wooyoung is there, presenting in front of the crowd, your world is crumbling beneath your feet, and his coworker is still trying to get into your pants.
CLOCKWORK [PART TWO] 9.7K WORDS
─── you had a good thing going: the sun goes down, your son goes to bed, and wooyoung comes over and takes care of you the best way he can, the only way you want him to. until he asks for one date, which unravels everything he's kept hidden for the past year.
BROKEN CLOCKS [PART THREE] 19K WORDS
─── you left wooyoung because he was never there, he was never present. always working, never with you and your son. the only thing he left you with, was a choice― one you never thought you'd have to make.
content — established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, period comfort, san taking care of you, flowers, snacks, heating pad that he found just for you, crying because he's too perfect, pet names (baby, sannie, princess), soft san, domestic fluff, mood swings acknowledged, reader is emotional, san is a green flag
note — i need him
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
It's that time of the month. You're curled up in bed, knees tucked to your chest, a pillow clutched against your stomach like it might somehow hold you together. The first day is always the worst for you—the cramps, the fatigue, the overwhelming urge to cry at absolutely nothing. Thankfully, it's the weekend, and you don't have to work. The sad part is that your boyfriend San has schedules today and is only supposed to get home late.
It's now 6 PM, and you hear the front door open.
You know it's San, but you find it weird—he wasn't supposed to be home for at least a few more hours. You don't have the strength to get up, so you just lie there, listening to his footsteps in the hallway.
San enters the room and stops at the sight of you—all crunched up in pain, buried under blankets, looking absolutely miserable. He has several bags in his hands, the plastic rustling as he sets them down.
He puts everything on the dresser and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to brush your hair out of your face.
"Hey, baby," he says softly, his voice gentle like he's soothing a wounded animal.
"Hi, Sannie." Your voice comes out small, tired. "You got home early."
He smiles, but there's concern in his eyes. "Yeah, I asked them to let me leave earlier. I couldn't stand the thought of you being here alone like this." He gestures to the bags. "I got you some stuff."
You sit up slowly, your face scrunching up in pain as a cramp hits. Your hand presses against your lower stomach instinctively.
His face drops at the sight, his eyebrows knitting together. "Careful, baby. Take it slow."
He reaches out and helps you sit all the way up, propping the pillows behind your back so you're comfortable.
"Okay," he says, reaching for the first bag. "So first, I bought you some flowers—just to cheer you up. I know you like them." He pulls out a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
"Oh my god, San, they're so pretty." You reach out to touch the petals, a small smile breaking through the pain.
He sets them on the nightstand, then digs into the next bag. "I also bought you some snacks and chocolate." He unloads an assortment of your favorites—the salty chips you crave, the sweet chocolate you hoard, even that weird candy you thought you were the only one who liked.
Then he reaches for the last bag, and his expression shifts—excited, almost giddy.
"And… I know you already have a heating pad, but I saw you looking at these on TikTok, and I found it in store today." He pulls out a stingray-shaped heating pad—the exact one you've been searching for for months. The one you showed him at 2 AM, half-asleep, mumbling about how cute it was. The one you thought he'd forgotten about.
Your eyes water immediately.
"Oh no," he says, panicking. "Baby, what is it? Are you hurting?" He pulls you into his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. "God, why are you crying?"
You pull away, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry, it's just—you're so perfect, and you always take care of me, and fuck—" You laugh through the tears. "Sorry, I'm just… the mood swings are crazy."
He exhales in relief, a small laugh escaping him. "You scared me."
He cups your face, thumbs wiping away the tears on your cheeks. "You don't have to thank me, baby. It's my duty as your boyfriend, okay?" He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Now lay down, and I'll go heat up your new friend. I'll bring you water too."
You lay back against the pillows, pulling the blankets up to your chin.
"Be right back, princess," he says, kissing your head one more time.
And you watch him leave toward the kitchen, his footsteps fading down the hall.
You lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what nation you saved in a past life to have him in your life.
𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 ² ・・・ most would think after peeping on his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend - the cam girl mingi used to goon too - would cause some tension. but that tension is the exact opposite of what he thought and even becomes a part of the fun.
꒰ 𝓢ubject ꒱ ──── 𝓑oyfriend! 𝓨unho x 𝓕em.ᐟreader x 𝓕riend! 𝓜ingi ༘⋆ g. smut cw. mouth gag, bondage, marking/biting, voyeurism, threesome, cuckqueanry, dacryphilia, spanking, mingi’s bi awakening if you squint, dom yunho, oral (both m and f), slight mxm, a lot is going on really.. wc. 2.4k ┈┈┈ Ӄfiles ₊꒷꒦˚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ ғᴏʀᴍ
Ӄai’s ¿? masterpiece made me do this … thank you ateez 🙏this is the extra for different sides of the internet, it can totally be a stand alone but i think knowing the history in the making of this helps!
Mingi stirred awake, the blanket that was draped over him falling to the ground as he lifted his body off the couch. Mingi doesn’t actually remember falling asleep. All he remembers is you, Yunho and him were sitting on the couch watching some thriller movie you've been talking about for a couple of days.
Mingi feels awkward sitting in your living room alone, he takes in his surroundings, finding a clock on your wall reading half past 1 in the morning. His place wasn’t far from your guys’ building so he grabbed his phone, cleaning up his mess as quietly as he could trying not to wake either of you up.
Mingi thought he was hearing things when he was walking down your hallway to the front door, and as he took another step he heard it again. Mingi twists his body, letting curiosity get a hold of him.
A soft light coming from out the room with the door slightly ajar. Mingi quietly steps in, eyes focusing on what is inside the room through the opening.
Mingi’s eyes widen when he first sees your hands tied up to the bed post, the red rope tight against your wrists as you pull at them. As his eyes travel down, he sees your face. Your cheeks are red, either from the blush or the heat of the room. Your voice and moans are muffled by the white fabric that is stuffed in your mouth.
Your chest bare, nipples perked. Mingi could see the bites and marks decorating the top of your body, Mingi couldn’t see what was happening to the other half but whatever Yunho was doing was having your nails digging into your palms.
Mingi could feel his breaths coming out heavier, his boxers becoming tighter and tighter as he continued to stare at you.
This is wrong, he shouldn’t get turned on by you. At least not anymore, you were dating yunho, you have been for months now. You stopped your nightly streams. You even deleted all the footage you had on your page.
Your groan pulls mingi out his mind, eyes focusing back to your face seeing that you are staring straight at him. Mingi feels his heart stop with his eyes locked into yours. The tears flooded your eyes, your moans got louder, harsher, faster. Mingi didn’t know what to do, he knows you are watching him. Your eyes leave him as your head falls back against the pillow, you let out a loud moan.
Mingi was frozen to this spot, he didn’t know you looked this pretty when you climaxed, you never really showed your face in your videos. But now that he knows and he doesn't think he is gonna be able to have the image leave his mind. Mingi adjusts his bottoms, his dick aching. Too focused on his throbbing dick, Mingi gets pulled back to reality when the door gets pulled open, revealing yunho.
Yunho knew mingi was behind the door, the way your moans got louder and the way you were clenching around his mouth proved his theory right.
Yunho didn't bother to wipe his face as your orgasm dipped down his face.
“Did she wake you?” Yunho licks at his lips, watching mingi zero in at the arousal on his face.
Mingi couldn’t form words, quickly shaking his head “N-No.. I- uh.”
Yunho tsks turning leaning on the door frame facing you.
Your face wet with your tears from your third orgasm of the night, eyes watching the very dominant one and then shifting to the scared one behind him.
“I told you to be quiet baby or what would happen if you woke up mingi.” yunho walks over to you, grabbing you and flipping you, placing you on your knees, ass in the air. Yunho places one hand on one of your cheeks rubbing the area.
Mingi still stood at the door, he wasn’t sure if he should be watching, but he wasn’t gonna leave unless one of you told him too.
“Can you count for her Min, as you can see her mouth is in use.” he points to the object in your mouth that mingi now realises is your panties.
“C-count what?” Mingi soon got his answer when yunho has reaches up and swings down slapping your ass right in the place he was rubbing before. You moan head falling onto your arms, elbows pressing deep into the mattress.
“Mingi.”
“One.”
“Good boy.” Mingi eyes snap away from you to Yunho.
Yunho smirks at the way Mingi eyes look. Yunho rubs his hand over the red mark and slides down your spine, planting a kiss on your shoulder. “And who is my good girl?”
Your moan muffled but mingi knew what you were replying with.
His body going back to the position it was behind you before he repeated the same motion, hand coming down to your ass.
Mingi swallows the saliva that is forming in his mouth. Mingi felt a little conflicted on who to watch. There was you, a horny, sopping mess. Mouth gagged, hands bounded, arched so prettily and so eager to have yunho touch you.
Then there was Yunho, arms defined as he lifted them. The cool demeanor was intoxicating, the way he handles your smaller body. Touching you that has you squirming. Mingi has never seen this side of him.
“If you are going to continue to waste my time, I'm going to kick you out and you won’t be able to get a reward for helping out.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, just count. Or our poor princess here is gonna have to start from one again.”
Mingi could tell you could care less about starting over, but he was curious about his reward so he takes a small step inside the room. “Two.”
Yunho grins continuing this rhythm, the only sounds are the harsh slaps, your moans and mingi’s voice counting.
“Ten.”
You were a mess, your ass was throbbing but it was soon forgotten when Yunho told mingi to come here. Your forehead pressed into clenched fist as you felt the stares they were giving your sopping pussy.
“You would think it's punishment but to a slut like her.” Yunho runs two fingers through your slit gathering up your wetness. Yunho pulls away from you, fingers placed in front of Mingi's mouth.
“Open up.”
Mingi hesitates, this is his best friend. Why the hell are those two little words making his head buzz.
“Come on, she's waiting.” You see Yunho nod towards your direction, Mingi eyes focus on yours, he slowly opens his mouth wrapping around Yunho’s fingers, eyes never leaving yours.
Your cheeks heat up at the way Mingi is falling under yunho’s control. The scene was unreal before you. Mingi was always the loudest in the room but at this moment he is so quiet, so obedient that it sends goosebumps throughout your skin.
“Sweet isn’t she?”
Mingi hmms as Yunho pulls his fingers out his mouth.
“Wanna try it straight from the source this time?”
“Oh god please.”
You watch as mingi slowly places his hands on the back of your thighs, softly rubbing almost like he was making sure this was real. His hands snake around to the front as his hands land right at the lower base of your stomach, holding you firmly before he licks a large stride through your folds.
Your body shakes with the sudden pressure head falling down. Yunho watches as Mingi licks and sucks at your clit, like you were clenching this thirst he never knew he had.
Yunho rubs his hand against your skin, smoothing out the goosebumps running across your skin.
Yunho grips your hair pulling your head, turning your attention to him instead of the boy devouring your entrance.
“How does Mingi feel, baby?”
You choke out a moan, saliva gathering behind the panties yunho stuffed in your mouth when you were moaning too loud.
“You don’t need this anymore.” He reaches with his other hand pulling out your panties and tossing them aside. Your voice rings out music to their ears, Mingi speeds up his pace, tongue licking deep inside you. He can feel your body slightly shake, his and yunho hands hold on you the only thing keeping you up right.
You watch yunho lean down and places a kiss on your lips, swallowing the moans Mingi is causing. The tears in your eyes are threatening to fall, a sign yunho has come to know and love showing that you were close. Yuhno lets go of your hair, and quickly pulls mingi by his hair, pulling his mouth away from you, denying you of the orgasm you were desperately reaching.
You whine looking back to see the spaced out looked mingi was holding, eyes drifting to yunho silently pleading to let you. But you knew better than to just let your eyes do the talking. “Please yunho, please.. I-I'm so close. Please.”
“Should we ask Mingi? Should our baby girl finish on your mouth or on your dick?”
Now mingi was the one to groan out, the thought of him being buried deep in you was always this fantasy and now he was so close to having it his reality.
“Dick, oh god please my dick.” Mingi was practically begging to be in. Yunho sits on a chair telling mingi he could. Mingi was quick to pull down his bottoms and taking off his shirt knees pressing into the bed as he positioned himself behind you.
You turn to your head, cheek resting on the pillow as you see Yunho taking his dick out slowly rubbing it up and down, giving you a smile. You lick your lips while staring at him jerking himself off. You loved Yunho's hands, his gentle touches, his rough ones everything, to you his hands held your world, too focused on yunho, you get shocked when Mingi runs his dick gathering up whatever liquid was left to help slide into easier.
Mingi slowly slides in with ease, you groan at the he stretches you out. Mingi wasn’t as long as Yunho but the girth of mingi makes up for the loss of inches.
“Holy fuck, oh my god yn, you are so wet. I slid right in.” Mingi halts as he lets you settle around him buried deep in you. Mingi can feel the way you are pulsing around him. He was in heaven.
“Mingi please.” He feels you push back on him to cause some sort of friction between you. Mingi looks at Yunho who has his hand at the base of his dick, he nods letting Mingi know he was okay to move.
Mingi doesn’t waste another moment pulling out and slamming back into you. Your mouth agape nothing but air coming out as mingi thrusts in a rhythmic pattern. Mingi was different from Yunho. Yunho loved to take his time, making you beg for more. But Mingi was quick and rough, you know he is losing himself by the way he is gripping your hips, adding to the marks littering your body.
Yunho was matching the speed of Mingi's thrust, soft groans falling from his lips as he watches you get pounded from the back. He quickly gets up, grabbing your face and bringing your mouth to his dick, you tried your best to suck him off without the use of your hands, and the movement mingi was causing.
“Shit baby, your mouth feels so good, you are so good for mingi.” Yunho says reaching behind your head holding it still as he pounds into your mouth. Your moans help stimulate Yunho more as he releases harshly into your mouth. You swallow around him throat sucking everything you can out of him. “Holy fuck.”
Mingi reaches around you harshly pinching his fingers around your clit. You scream out, clenching on him, moaning out as you reach your high, completely ready to cum.
“Cum baby, cum for Mingi.” Yunho says rubbing his thumb over your lips, while your eyes are locked. That's all you needed. You cum hard around Mingi. Mingi hips stuttered thrusts getting harder and slower.
“You can’t come in her mingi.” Yunho says quickly face turning to watch mingi groan out in frustration as he is forced to pull out releasing all over your back.
Yunho slowly places your head onto the pillow, untying your hands rubbing at the red marks from the restraints. Yunho brings each wrist to his lips placing kisses all over the redness.
“You did so well my love, you are so pretty.” Yunho places a kiss on the inside of your palm. Letting you come down from your high with praise.
Yuhno reaches out grabbing the nearest piece of cloth wiping the cum off your back.
“Hey, that's my shirt.” Mingi says from his position next to you.
“I don't care.” Yunho says continuing to clean you up with Mingi's shirt.
You are still on your stomach and you turn to face mingi “so does that mean you like yunho?”
Mingi's frightened face makes you laugh as he stutters out excuses and saying nonsense.
Yunho rolls his eyes as he goes to your bathroom running the tub for you and him.
“You can stay at my apartment and borrow some clothes. I’m gonna stay here with yn.”
“Wait I don’t wanna be alone, can’t I stay here with you.” Mingi sits up as yunho tosses him his boxers.
“If you stay you are the one gonna be tied up to the bed.” You jokingly say as yunho helps you out of bed, walking you both to the bath.
“I'm okay with that.” Mingi says.
You both stop in your tracks turning to see mingi sitting on his heels, dick hard against his abdomen and the most pleading eyes you have ever seen.
You and Yunho share a look, a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on your face.
“Let me get my camera, we are gonna make a masterpiece.” you say.
in which: san just wants to help relieve you during your time of the month
pair: san/afab!reader
word count: 2.2k
content: massages, period sex, safe sex, completely consensual
rating: R — nsfw | mdni
Not going to lie, San was a little worried when you didn't get out of bed all day. Well, you technically did get up to drag yourself to the bathroom every so often, but then you immediately went back to bed. He knew that you were in a lot of pain because of your period, but he didn't realize that you were going to be completely out of commission that day.
Usually, your periods didn't hit you that hard, but this time around, it was like you were being stabbed in the uterus over and over again. Your entire body was aching like there was no tomorrow, and you truly thought it was going to be over for you because no matter what you did, you were in a world of pain. Hot packs didn't help, painkillers didn't help— nothing was working to alleviate your pain. So, you just curled yourself up into a ball and hugged a pillow to your body while burying your face in the pillow.
"Baby?" San asked as he approached you on the bed slowly from behind you. "Are you okay?"
"No," you mumbled into the pillow. "I wanna die."
"Don't say things like that, baby," San said with a frown.
"How about I kick you in the balls, then you talk?" you couldn't help but retort. "You would wanna die, too, wouldn't you?"
San shivered at the thought of anything hurting his crotch. He shook his head to keep himself from derailing from his original thought and said, "Well, I'm here to help you, baby. Can I do anything else to help you?"
You tried turning to face him, but your back was so sore that it hurt when you moved even a millimeter. Still laying on your side, you grunted in slight pain as you pulled your shirt up slightly and asked, "Can you massage my back for me please? My lower back?"
"Of course I can," San replied.
San knelt on the bed, his knees on either side of you at first as he waited for something, although you had no idea what until he spoke again.
"Shouldn't you lay on your stomach for me to massage your back, baby?"
You huffed in frustration, but before you could even contemplate turning, San said, "Never mind. Don't move— I think I can still massage you well from the side."
"You sure?"
"Yes, baby," San said as he left a light kiss on your temple. "I want you to feel comfortable."
San ended up lying on the bed right behind you, his warm hands resting on the small of your back. He pressed his thumbs into the dimples on your back, and you groaned. It was still painful, but the pressure from his thumbs did alleviate some of the pain, so it was worth the momentary suffering.
Every time San pressed his fingers into your back, you groaned and sighed, the massage actually working better than the hot pack did. You found yourself pushing your body towards his magic touch, sighs of pleasure tumbling out of your mouth as his massage continued.
What you didn't realize, though, was that San was getting harder with every passing second because your moans were incredibly sensual. He knew that you were in pain and suffering because of your period, but he so badly wanted to fuck you in that moment because you sounded so fucking sexy to him with your constant moaning and groaning.
Now that the dull, throbbing pain in your back was slightly relieved, you felt your breasts get more sore. You dropped the pillow you were hugging to the floor and tried to massage your own breasts, but your hands were too weak to get the same level of pressure that San was using on your back. So, you asked, "Can you... Can you also massage my breasts, please?"
"Of course, baby. Whatever you want," San murmured.
San's hands slithered up your shirt, his palms resting flat on your ribs, his fingers brushing your underboob. As he hugged you from behind, he pulled you closer to him, your back flush against his chest. He then gripped your breasts gently, his fingers pressing into your sore breasts and starting to massage them. However, when you moaned in slight frustration, he immediately used more power and gripped your breasts tightly. As he did so, his fingers brushed past your nipples, making you moan loudly and erotically as hell. Embarrassed, you covered your mouth, your face heating up.
"That was so cute, baby," San teased as he buried his face in your hair. "Can you make that noise again for me? Please?"
"N-No. Shut up," you rejected.
Despite you rejecting him, San was determined to make you moan like that again.
"S-Sannie," you moaned when his fingers started pinching your nipples. "I-I'm really sensitive right now, baby..."
"Do you want me to stop, then?" he asked you, his breath tickling your neck and his low voice tickling your brain.
"God, no... Don't stop..."
San chuckled. He pinched the slightest bit harder before tugging on your nipple. You arched your back and sighed sensually as he continued to tug. You reached back for his head and ran your fingers through his hair. You gripped the roots of his hair and tugged his head back slightly whenever he rubbed your nipples in his fingers.
Your eyes began fluttering the more he massaged, and you completely closed your eyes when you felt him begin to leave small little kisses in the nook of your neck. You were thoroughly enjoying his massage and got sucked into your own little world of pleasure, only for your eyes to fly wide open when he pressed his pelvis into your ass.
"Sannie, you're turned on right now?" you couldn't help but giggle as you asked.
You managed to reach back and cup his clothed hard-on in your hand, the man moaning slightly as you did so. His breathing hitched as he replied, "How can I not be when I'm touching you like this... And while you're moaning like that...?"
Finally, thanks to his hard work, your soreness was relieved just enough for you to turn in his arms. You palmed his cock over his pants and whispered, "How about I help you with this, then? It's my turn to help you, after all."
"Actually," San said slowly before gulping nervously. "I think there's a way we can help each other out, baby..."
"What do you mean?"
You were honestly left completely shocked when San suddenly got up from the bed and disappeared from your bedroom. However, moments later, San returned with a couple of towels and a condom.
"Do you think you can get off the bed for a second, baby?" San asked you.
"W-What— You can't be serious right now, San," you said in disbelief, your eyes wide.
"I read online that having sex on your period should help with your cramps," he explained to you.
"But— Won't the blood freak you out?" you questioned.
"It's a natural thing, baby. Why would I be freaked out?"
"It'll get all over you, and it'll stain the bed sheets! Also, it's dirty—"
"That's what the condom and towels are for," he interrupted you. "Don't worry, baby. We don't have to if you don't want to, but I think we could at least try it out."
Honestly, you had read the same information online about the benefits of having sex on your period, and it did cross your mind to ask your boyfriend to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but you didn't think he would be open to having sex when you were bleeding; so him being so willing to have sex with you on your period without you even asking kind of freaked you out a bit, and you would've probably pushed back a little harder had it not been for your hormones turning you on earlier when he was massaging your breasts.
You agreed, and San immediately set up the bed. He laid the towels down on the bed and removed the comforter and pillows to make sure they wouldn't accidentally get stained. He had you strip down to nothing before having you lay down on the bed.
As you laid on the towels, you were already worried about bleeding onto them, and you couldn't help but fidget. Noticing the slightly stressed look on your face, San quickly removed his own clothes and rolled the condom on his twitching, hard cock before straddling you. His fingers held your chin gently, forcing you to look at him as he lowered his body onto yours.
"Baby, don't think about it as blood. Think of it as lube, only red," he said calmly. "And if you're so worried about the color, then just close your eyes, okay?"
With a soft exhale, you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut as San got closer to you, his lips meeting yours. He kissed you softly and slowly, your mind melting as his kisses got more sensual. You didn't have a single care or worry with the way San was kissing you in that moment, and you were so out of touch from everything else that you didn't realize he was rubbing the tip of his cock along your cunt.
San pushed his cock into you slowly but easily, his cock filling you up. You moaned against his lips, your hands clutching the towels underneath you as you started unintentionally getting nervous again. As a result, you couldn't help but clench your cunt, and of course, San felt your nervousness.
"Baby," San interrupted your chain of kisses with a soft sigh. "Relax..."
His hands reached for your arms. He brought them up and laced his fingers with yours. He kissed you again, and when he felt your cunt finally relax, he started moving. His waist rolled into yours slowly, and the dull pain you felt earlier started melting away thanks to the friction from his cock. You couldn't help but sigh with relief the more he moved in and out of you.
"You feeling better, baby?" San asked you, his forehead pressing against yours.
"A little bit, yeah," you admitted softly.
"Then, can I move a little faster?"
San lifted his face so he could look into your eyes. You opened your eyes and nodded before closing your eyes again— technically, San was blocking your line of sight, but you were still worried that you were going to see red, so you closed them again. San buried his face in the nook of your neck, his breath hitting your collarbone. He started rutting into you a little faster, making you sharply inhale and moan while exhaling.
The wet sound of his waist meeting yours repetitively was honestly freaking you out a little bit. No matter how you tried to think about it, you knew that the wet sound was not your arousal or lube, but before you could spiral thinking about it, San moved his lips to your ear, and he started whispering sweet nothings into your ear, drowning out the sound of him fucking you.
Your entire body started shifting along the towels as San not only sped up but started thrusting harder. He let go of your hands to hook his arms under your legs, pushing them upwards, easing the strain on your lower back as he quite literally bent you in half. You could hear him grunting and moaning softly in your ear with every thrust; you could tell he was close, and honestly, you didn't realize you were as well until he grabbed your breasts again.
San intentionally rubbed his fingers against your nipples, the pleasure from how sore they were building rapidly within you. It was when San rammed his hips into yours as hard as he could, hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock, did you cum. You moaned loudly and pushed your head back while arching your back as you came, San's cock still buried inside you.
As you came, you clenched your cunt tightly, giving San's cock the right amount of pressure for him to cum as well. He moved up so he could hold your waist tightly and thrust a couple more times into your cunt. He groaned and sighed, meeting your same decibel as he filled the condom he had on his cock with his seed. Hs cock twitched and throbbed inside you as he finished, and he dropped his head back into the nook of your neck.
The two of you were breathing heavily at that point. You remained in a puddle on the bed as San got up to take the condom off and properly dispose of it before returning to your side. He wiped his fingers on one of the towels as you finally reopened your eyes to look right into his eyes, still afraid to see the damage done from him fucking you during your period.
"We should get cleaned up, baby," San said. "Why don't I help you?"
San tucked his arms beneath your back and legs, lifting you off the bed. You held onto his shoulders as he walked you to the bathroom.
"Besides," he continued. "We could always go for round two in the shower. Right, baby?"
you wake up before SAN, and for a second, you just stare at him. he’s on his back, lips slightly parted, hair messy against the pillow, his arm thrown over your waist, fingers curled loosely into your shirt, and the overwhelming, unbearable, almost painful kind of love hits you all at once.
your heart creates a rhythm of its own, hands grip the sheets, because he looks so ridiculously adorable you actually feel irritated about it. cute aggression floods your system so suddenly that you have to clamp your mouth shut to stop yourself from squealing, and so you lean down, sinking your teeth into his bare bicep.
“ow–” he jolts awake, eyes blinking open in confusion as he looks down at you still latched onto his arm. you don’t even apologize, just stare at him with wide and unhinged eyes. “did you just bite me?”
“i had to,” muffling groans against his skin, “you’re too cute.”
“that doesn’t explain why you’re tearing my flesh.”
you finally pull back, only to immediately grab his arm with both hands and squeeze hard. he lets out a sleepy laugh, voice still raspy, “cute aggression, hm?”
nodding before crawling on top of him and burying your face into his chest. your arms wrap around him, legs tangled with his, he oofs softly but doesn’t push you away as his hands settle on your back, rubbing soothing circles.
“baby,” he chuckles under his breath, tightening his hold, “it’s probably nine in the morning, and i’m already under attack.”
you cling tighter, pressing your face into him like you’re trying to fuse your bodies together, and it doesn’t stop there.
by the time lunchtime rolls around, you’re a complete mess. you’ve been glued to him all morning: following him into the kitchen, into the bathroom while holding his hand, back to the couch every time he sits down, you’re in his lap within seconds. every time he stands, you’re wrapped around his arm like a koala refusing to descend from its tree.
now you’re crying, hot tears running down your cheeks, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling his lap, your face buried in his neck, weeping and soaking his shirt.
“what happened?” he asks gently, hands rubbing up and down your back, and you try to answer, “i don’t know, i just–” your voice cracks. “i love you so much i feel stupid.”
“oh,” he goes quiet for a second, then exhales, “it’s one of those days.”
you nod before biting his shoulder this time, not even warning him.
“oh… okay, yeah, definitely one of those days,” he winces, adjusting you higher on his lap. his hands cradle your face, thumbs wiping your tears away, pulling you closer as you sniffle, immediately biting his collarbone as he hisses, “just maybe don’t leave teeth marks where people can see them.”
then he leans down and bites your cheek, and you stare at him in disbelief, as he grins, showing off his dimples.
“if i’m your chew toy today… then you’re mine too.”
“sannie–”
“don’t ‘sannie’ me,” he mutters, nuzzling into you again before peppering quick kisses on cheeks, nose, jaw, and then the lips.
you try to squirm away, but he only tightens his hold, rolling so you’re pinned beneath him. his fingers wiggle into your sides, making you shriek. he tickles you mercilessly, laughing when you curl into yourself, and when you finally catch your breath, he cups your face in both hands, squishing your cheeks together.
“you think i don’t feel that too?” he murmurs, voice softer. “look at you, how am i supposed to survive this?”
it just turns into the two of you rolling around the bed, alternating between biting, squeezing, tickling, and kissing like you aren’t madly in love and have absolutely no idea how to deal with the way your hearts seem to only know how to beat for each other.
Not in a way that actually hurts—never that—but in that sharp, dismissive way that makes everyone else keep their distance.
You don’t.
That’s what confuses Min Yoongi the most.
“Why are you here again?”
You don’t even look up from where you’re sitting on the studio couch, scrolling lazily through your phone. “You texted me.”
“I did not.”
“You literally said, ‘come over, I need quiet.’”
“That was not an invitation.”
You hum. “Felt like one.”
Yoongi sighs like your existence is a personal inconvenience, turning back to the computer. His fingers hover over the keyboard, then drop uselessly into his lap.
He hasn’t written a single thing since you got here.
You notice.
Of course you do.
“You’re stuck,” you say casually.
“I’m not.”
“You’ve been opening and closing the same file for ten minutes.”
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re brooding.”
“I don’t brood.”
You finally glance at him.
Flat look. Completely unimpressed.
“…You absolutely brood.”
There’s a beat.
Then he scoffs, turning away like that settles it. “You’re annoying.”
“Mm.”
Silence stretches for a moment.
He tries again—typing something this time, actually getting a few notes down before stopping, frustrated, deleting it all in one go.
You watch him.
Watch the way his shoulders tense. The way his jaw tightens. The tiny flicker of doubt he tries to bury under attitude.
And then—
“You didn’t eat today, did you?”
He freezes.
Just for a second.
“…I did.”
“You had coffee.”
“That counts.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It does for me.”
You sit up, setting your phone aside. “That’s why you’re stuck.”
He lets out a short, incredulous laugh. “Yeah, sure. My entire creative process is ruined because I skipped lunch.”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” you tilt your head slightly. “Or are you just easier to deal with when you’re not running on caffeine and spite?”
His eyes flick to you.
Sharp.
Defensive.
“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m not. I’m observing.”
“You’re assuming.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re not.”
You hold his gaze, completely unbothered.
And that—that—is what cracks something.
Because you’re not intimidated.
You never are.
Everyone else backs off when he gets like this. Lets him hide behind the dry remarks, the clipped tone, the carefully constructed distance.
You just… step closer.
“Yoongi,” you say, softer now.
He hates when you say his name like that.
“…What.”
“You get like this every time you’re overwhelmed.”
“I’m not overwhelmed.”
“You stop taking care of yourself. You snap at people. You pretend you don’t care about anything so no one notices that you actually care about everything.”
Silence.
Heavy.
He looks at you like you’ve just said something you weren’t supposed to know.
“…You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You shrug lightly. “Okay.”
That’s it.
No argument. No pushback.
Just that.
And somehow, that’s worse.
Because now it feels like you’re letting him lie.
His jaw tightens. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you’ve got me figured out.”
You stand, crossing the small space between you and his desk.
Slow. Careful. Like you know he might bolt if you move too fast.
“I don’t have you figured out,” you say quietly.
He watches you.
Doesn’t move.
“Not completely,” you add. “But I see you.”
That—
That hits somewhere deeper than he wants to admit. Than he wants to think about.
He looks away first.
“Congrats,” he mutters. “You want a medal?”
You almost smile.
“No. I want you to eat something.”
“…Unbelievable.”
You reach past him, grabbing the takeout bag you brought earlier and setting it in front of him.
He stares at it.
Then at you.
“I didn’t ask for this.”
“I know.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you—”
“Because you won’t.”
That stops him.
Completely.
For a second, he just… looks at you.
Really looks.
Like he’s trying to understand why you’re still here. Why you haven’t gotten tired of the attitude, the walls, the constant pushing away.
“…You’re stubborn,” he says finally.
You shrug. “Takes one to know one.”
A quiet huff of air escapes him—almost a laugh, but not quite.
He reaches for the food.
Opens it.
Takes a bite.
And it’s small, but—
It’s something.
You don’t comment on it.
Don’t make it a big deal.
You just lean back against the desk beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushes his.
He doesn’t move away.
Minutes pass.
The tension in the room shifts—softens, just a little.
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