HOT HEADED, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 sweet and spicy
𖥔 PRECIS. In which, you realize your boyfriend likes when you get mean… maybe a little too much. PAIRING. softie bf!jungwon x short tempered gf!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, kissing, implied nsfw, mdni
authors note ୨୧ I’ve been on quite the Jungwon kick recently, so now you’re on it too.
Your relationship with Jungwon wasn’t some overcomplicated drama-fueled rollercoaster.
It was actually… painfully domestic.
Sleepovers in each other’s apartments where he’d tuck your hair behind your ear after brushing your teeth. Where your lipstick stains were permanent residents on his coffee mugs. Where your tiny shorts and crop tops had taken over one drawer in his dresser, and his oversized shirts always made their way into your laundry.
Dinner on Fridays, either dressed up in dim lighting over pasta and wine or curled up on the couch with takeout containers and half-watched thrillers. Matching phone wallpapers, playlists curated for each other, and sex that was always tender, always attentive—vanilla, sure—but Jungwon made you feel everything.
He was calm… Always composed, and almost princely in the way he carried himself.
Always considerate, always kind.
A golden boy with dimples and patient hands.
Cool, blunt, slightly dangerous in the way you spoke and moved. Sweet, yes—but only when you wanted to be. Spicy, short-tempered, impulsive. You didn’t sugarcoat, and you didn’t coddle.
And Jungwon loved that about you.
Well—he’d never say that out loud.
Never admit how, when your voice rose and your words got mean, he twitched in his pants. How when you turned sharp and sarcastic, when you rolled your eyes and walked away from him with that angry sway in your hips—it did things to him.
Things he was too embarrassed to voice.
So instead, he kept quiet. Let you yell, let you snap, let you push him around when you were grumpy… because the way your teeth nipped his neck when you were worked up, the way you pinned him to the bed like you owned him—
God, he loved when you got angry.
However, he wasn’t toxic with the way he relished in your anger. It was never a “I want to see you break” kind of enjoyment.
No, that wasn’t his thing.
It was more like—“Oh no, did I make you angry? Use me to make up for it.”
That brand of soft destruction.
The kind where you stomped through the club, or the grocery store, always clad in your signature kitten heels and tiny shorts, eyes blazing from a phone call gone wrong, or someone staring too long, tugging Jungwon around like he was your favorite purse.
Don’t save him. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
He would never forget the day he first realized this.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, which meant errands.
A few returns, maybe a smoothie, and a cinnamon roll somewhere along the way.
You were dressed in your usual brand of pretty danger—tiny black mini skirt that sat high on your hips, a matching ribbed tank top, dainty jewelry catching the sunlight.
Jungwon’s oversized jacket hung off your shoulders, swallowing you whole and somehow making you look even smaller.
He wore baggy faded jeans, a loose graphic tee, messy hair, and a soft grin—the ever-patient boyfriend tagging along.
The one who always carried your bags, held your wallet when you were busy, maybe sneaking it into his pocket because he’d much prefer you use his. The one who nodded thoughtfully whenever you asked, “This or this?”
And that phone call was not going well.
He didn’t know the full story.
Something about your old college friends, some drama about a canceled trip, or someone inviting your ex to the same event—he didn’t care, really.
All he knew was that you were pissed, and trying very hard not to yell in public.
He saw it in the way your brows pinched together, the way your hand gripped the steering wheel tighter and tighter, until you took a hard one-handed turn into the mall’s parking lot.
Sharp, controlled, dangerous.
Jungwon blinked as you slid your sunglasses on with one hand, voice sweet but dripping with venom.
“Oh, fuck you, James.” you laughed bitterly into the speaker.
“You always do this, and honestly? It’s pathetic. I’ll see you when I see you.”
Call ended, sunglasses adjusted, lip gloss reapplied.
You stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the heat-thick air.
Jungwon was quick to follow, locking the car behind him.
And that’s when it started.
You were walking ahead, fast-paced and mean in your stride, and when he lagged a few steps behind looking at a text, you reached back and grabbed his wrist…
“Keep up,” you muttered, linking your fingers with his tightly.
He swallowed, and something in him fluttered.
Inside the mall, you stayed grumpy.
Shiny floors, buzzing lights, the smell of fried food and perfume.
You weren’t speaking much, only stopping occasionally to finger through racks of dresses in your first store.
You spotted one—a silky red number. Tiny. Dangerous. And turned to him suddenly, gripping the front of his shirt to tug him closer.
“What do you think, Wonie? Trashy or sexy?”
His brain short-circuited.
“Perfect,” you said, tossing it over your arm and moving on like nothing happened.
His heart beat a little faster.
Then there was the Cinnabon incident.
A pit stop between stores.
You bit into yours with a vengeance, cinnamon smearing at the corner of your mouth, cheeks puffed with heat and sugar.
Jungwon’s cheek had cream on the side, which he didn’t notice—until you did.
“Hold still,” you muttered, gripping his chin suddenly, thumb swiping the icing from his cheek.
Then, without warning, you licked it off your finger.
You didn’t notice… or maybe you did, but you turned away and kept walking.
You made him carry everything, not that he minded.
Four stores, three bags each, hangers poking out, boxes digging into his forearms…
And for some reason, he held them all at the front of his body.
Not to keep them balanced…
His jeans did nothing to hide it, so he pressed the bags down low, trying to hide the evidence of what walking one step behind his sharp-tongued, moody, mini-skirted girlfriend did to him.
He watched you in line at Zara, rolling your eyes at the cashier when they denied your returns unjustly, your hand on your hip, lips pursed in that kiss-me-if-you-dare way
“Can I see your manager, hon? Thank.”
And something in him cracked…
It was the way you moved when angry—like you owned the whole mall, the city, him.
The way your voice turned clipped, direct. The way you bossed him around like you expected him to obey.
Which he did, every time.
With flushed cheeks, and a semi that never went away.
Later, back in the car, you waited for Jungwon to toss the bags into the trunk and leaned against the passenger door, huffing a little from the heat and chaos.
You looked at him now, head tilted.
He blinked, eyes wide, “Nothing.”
“You’re red, Wonie. Your neck, your cheeks…-“
“Sorry for my temper…”, you hum, pulling your shades off and popping your gum.
“I don’t mind it.”, he quickly shook his head with a quickness he was too ashamed to admit, squinting in the sun as the awkward silence landed then.
Because why on earth would he say that?
An amused smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth, your brows quirking up in surprise.
“So, does that mean you enjoy it?”, you were joking, but it was true… just not to your knowledge.
“I—don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh… alright.” you cooed, reaching for him.
You let your hands slide slowly from his shoulders down his arms teasingly, then his waist, his hips… pulling him closer then by his belt.
Was it getting hotter outside?
He gasped out a sad excuse for laughter.
“I do enjoy it.”, he caved.
You leaned in, breath cool with peppermint at you pecked his lips.
“I can tell. Don’t ever lie to me, Jungwon.”
He nearly whimpered, nearly.
That was the day he knew.
He wasn’t just in love with you.
He was completely, hopelessly, forever down bad… for your anger.
He wanted to make you mad on purpose.
It never got easier after that fateful Sunday.
The fight wasn’t even that serious…
It started the way most of your arguments did—casual, then tense, then boom.
Raised voices in a quiet apartment, distant thunder behind a closed window.
You were in one of Jungwon’s old t-shirts, sleeves rolled up and neckline stretched just enough to slip off your shoulder. You hair piled with an old clip, underwear and nothing else.
That sweet mix of cozy and careless.
He stood by the kitchen counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. He looked maddening in a fitted black tee and baggy gray joggers, chocolatey damp hair curling a little from his earlier shower.
Face calm, but eyes too sharp behind his thick rimmed glasses.
“I said I was going to see the guys this weekend,” he said, voice steady.
“You planned that on your own, but you only mentioned it to me,” you snapped, tossing your phone onto the couch. “That’s not the same.”
Jungwon sighed, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his face.
“It’s Jay’s birthday. I thought you knew that, (Y/n).”
You paced, because that’s what you did when your brain got loud.
“No, you assumed I knew. I already made plans with my colleague this Saturday for her birthday, and I told you I wouldn’t miss it…“
“You said you’d come.”, you added then, staring daggers into his soul.
“I didn’t think it was that important,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?” you turned, arms thrown wide. “So your friend’s birthday is important but my friend’s isn’t?”
He groaned, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Baby, that’s not at all what I meant.”
“You never say what you mean, Jungwon!” You groaned.
“Help me understand. You expect me to read your mind and follow along like a fucking robot?”
“That’s not fair,” he said, voice rising now too as he stepped closer to you.
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
You didn’t back down either, meeting him halfway, your chests nearly pressing to one another.
“Then maybe open your mouth and use them properly”
You didn’t even realize how close you’d gotten, how your words had grown sharp enough to slice through the stillness of the apartment.
Your bare feet planted on the cool hardwood, your hands fisting at your sides like you were itching for something to punch.
Your chest was heaving, your lips curled, your eyes narrowed in that cat-like, dangerous way…
And that’s when you noticed it.
You paused, expression softening into that of realization.
Jungwon stood frozen in front of you, like a deer caught in headlights—except… not scared.
His cat-like eyes were blown wide, glassy, his cheeks tinged pink.
His lips parted just slightly, tongue peaking out to wet them, his breathing a little heavier than a second ago.
“…Oh my Gosh.”, you scoffed in disbelief.
“I—wait—” he stepped back, hands raised like you’d just found his hidden stash of dirty magazines, before they shot down to then cover his groin.
“Oh my GOSH.” you said again, slower, one hand raising to cover your mouth as you stared, laughter bubbling up in your chest.
“No—well—yes—but it’s not like—”
You looked back up at him, mouth parted in disbelief.
“You’re turned on right now!?”
“Jungwon, we’re fighting!”
“I’m mad at you.”, you cried.
Your jaw dropped further. “You really do like when I get mad…”
“I—I didn’t say that,” he mumbled, cheeks burning.
“Oh, you didn’t have to.”, you back him up slowly, guiding him until he landed in a stool at the counter, curious, testing the waters.
“You’ve got a whole problem going on in your pants right now.”
His hands moved reflexively in front of him again, holding his waistband like that might fix anything.
“Stop looking, (Y/n). Please.”
“Oh, I am looking,” you grinned, eyes bright now with something entirely different.
“Oh my gosh… this is so interesting.”
“Please don’t make fun of me,” he whispered, letting you slot yourself between his thighs
Your face sobered slightly, head tilting.
Your arms hooked around his neck.
“I mean… I remember the mall, but you should’ve told me it was this bad, Wonie.”
He looked up at you helplessly. “It’s embarrassing.”
“No,” you murmured, hands sliding over his shoulders. “It’s actually kind of hot.”
He blinked. “Wait, really?”
“Mm-hm,” you hummed, leaning in until your lips pressed the warm flushed skin of his cheek.
“So, you like when I get bossy? Or is it when I raise my voice..? When I tell you what to do?”
He made a choked sound, nodding, his hands clutching your waist now, squeezing slightly.
“Gosh, you’re so weird,” you whispered.
He groaned, head dropping to hide in the crook of your neck but you still caught his smile.
“And now it makes sense,” you went on, pressing yourself to him.
“Why you get extra handsy when I’m annoyed, why you always follow me around like a little puppy when I tell you to leave me alone…”
You kissed under his jaw, once. “You don’t want me to be soft, huh?”
“But you prefer it when I’m mean.”
His hands slid down to your thighs and hips, gripping tightly, pulling you closer. “Only when it’s you.”
You laughed, breathless now.
“Then… can you show me what you mean?”, you said sweetly, voice like syrup and sin.
“I wanna learn you a little more~”
His heart dropped like gravity had been waiting.
And later, when your voice was hoarse from scolding and he was panting against your thigh with the biggest fucking smile on his face, you had only one thought:
You were going to have way too much fun with this.
