#Kpop lovers

[vividhjj]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⺌ ﹒ You are loved ⤸

[levanterhaze]

gameboy ― bangchan

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] fratboy!bangchan x f!reader . unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, graphic sex details, if you don't feel comfortable, don't read! fingering (f. receiving), just pure smut.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i wrote this in one night, i think i was inspired or something. it's been a while since i've written, but i found this one interesting. i'm still thinking about doing a second part!

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡―[part 2]

The music was a bit too loud, but that's just the vibe, right?

Eunji was super focused on her school skirt she had borrowed from Sohee, working hard to recreate Britney Spears' iconic style. The theme was Y2K, and the fraternity was buzzing with Cher Horowitz, Paris Hilton, and Beyoncé energy.

You took a refreshing sip of your drink while your friends spread out to mingle. Sohee was caught up in the moment, and she and Minho, her boyfriend, shared a lovey-dovey moment. Eunji was telling someone how tired college was making her, that she barely had time to go to a spa, which, for Eunji, was total nonsense.

You were sharing a room with the two of them, which was very fortunate as they were both top-notch people. You scanned the place, looking for something or someone. It was a bad habit, you knew. Going to frat parties meant sharing the same square metre as your nemesis – or nearly so.

Your friends were aware of your mutual dislike of each other, but as you couldn't seem to avoid going to parties or socializing with your friends, you made a conscious effort to be the bigger person and not let his presence upset you. That said, it wasn't always easy.

Bangchan got what he wanted most of the time. He was arrogant and overbearing, which drove you crazy. As a woman who fought hard against all kinds of ignorance, it was gross to see him bragging around campus as if he were the last man in the world.

What was even more annoying was that all the girls fell for his bullshit.

Sohee, who was the most blunt of the three, said this was "suppressed horniness" and that the moment you and Bangchan were alone, all this animosity would turn into libido and it would all be sorted in one good fuck. But that was far from happening if it was up to you. "Now we're talking," Hyunjin appeared in your line of sight. With his long black hair slicked back, he looked like a slightly slutty version of Patrick Bateman, with fake blood on his jaw and chest. "You look good.

With your hands on your waist, you turned around to show how much effort you'd put into your costume. 

As someone deeply involved in theatre, you are always fully committed to any challenge. Whether it's a play or a fraternity party, you commit wholeheartedly. After much thought, you decided that you would be Suki. The lilac blouse was small and suited your upper body perfectly. The pink leather pants were almost identical, ending just below your bottom and with garters that went down to your thighs, exposing your skin by just a few inches. Suki is a sexy and iconic character, which is a perfect fit for you.

"You know it's not Halloween, right?" you shouted over loud music. Hyunjin gave a casual shrug and smiled, showing his teeth.

"There's always an excuse to dress up as Patrick Bateman."

There was a DJ at the party, apparently Minho's friend Jisung. He cranked up the music, and everyone gravitated towards the centre of the room, where most people were dancing. It was reggaeton and all the girls were rolling around and gettin down on the floor. Sohee was dancing with her boyfriend, whose hands were on her waist and whose face was close to hers, looking very pleased.

Eunji put her back to yours, glass in hand, and you danced together. As the alcohol took over your bodies, it was hard to hold back.

The beat was infectious and the energy was almost impossible to control. You danced together for three more songs until the alcohol had worn off and you desperately needed to find a toilet.

"Wait for me!" you shouted as you climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor access. It wasn't your first time in this dorm, but the drink had clouded your mind and all the doors simply looked the same.

You played a quick round of eenie, meenie, miney, mo, your finger landing on one of the many identical doors. Without hesitation, you turned the handle and pushed it open, expecting to find a bathroom. What you found instead stopped you dead in your tracks.

It wasn’t the bathroom. Not even close.

A girl was kneeling in the corner of the room, her blonde hair held by thick hands and enlarged veins. Your first impulse was to close the door, but for some odd reason you didn't. Standing there, eyes downcast and lips hanging open, was Bangchan.

You would never have believed it if you'd seen it.

The girl was working really hard, loudly moaning as she put it in her mouth. You stood there watching and thinking about what you saw. Bangchan had his dark hair covering his face, but then he lifted his head and you could see the thick veins on his neck.

Maybe the alcohol was having an effect. You tripped over yourself, making him look at you.

Your eyes went wide and you spun on your heels, running in the opposite direction.

"Oh no, oh shit."

At that moment, a girl came out of the bathroom, and you thanked God for finally finding a place where you could lock yourself in. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin prickled. Oh my god. That was too embarrassing. It wasn't something you should have seen, and even worse, it wasn't something you should have enjoyed witnessing.

After using the bathroom and washing your face with cold water, you went back into the living room and pretended that nothing had happened. If you drank enough, the sight of Bangchan groaning would quickly fade from your mind.

"You won't believe this," Eunji shouted, laughter spilling out with every word. "Some guy just stripped down to nothing but a cowboy hat and is now giving everyone his best Magic Mike impression."

Sure enough, there he was—a member of the basketball team, stark naked save for the cowboy hat perched jauntily on his head, gyrating in the middle of the dance floor like he was auditioning for Vegas.

"That's... dedication," you muttered, unable to tear your eyes away from the chaotic spectacle.

"That's fucking insane," Felix chimed in, suddenly materializing beside Hyunjin. He was dressed as a somewhat disheveled Romeo, complete with a feathered cap that looked suspiciously askew. His grin was as bright as the party lights.

"Is it?" Hyunjin asked dryly, eyeing the cowboy dancer like he was trying to calculate how much alcohol it would take to get someone to that point. "Seems on-brand for him."

"You know that guy?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hyunjin shrugged. "Not well enough to explain this."

Felix laughed, holding up a drink. "I don't know, kind of feels like art to me. Pure, unfiltered expression."

"Expression, my ass," Eunji snorted. "I give him five more minutes before campus security steps in."

Something caught your eye from across the room. Like a moth lured by a flame, your eyes found him. Bangchan was coming down the stairs with a girl in a Christina Aguilera costume. Her breasts barely tucked into her low-cut top, while he was now shirtless, wearing only an open sweatshirt over his abs.

Fucking ridiculous.

"Hyunjin!" you shouted, needing to get away from there as quickly as possible so that he wouldn't see you. You could picture the teasing or judgy looks he would give you. "Do you want to go with me to get a drink?" your voice came out sounding a bit desperate.

He was making his way through the crowd.

"The table's just over there, go get yourself," Hyunjin grumbled, but you rolled your eyes and took him by the hand.

"I'm asking you to come with me. Shut up and move."

The boy couldn't avoid it because you were pulling him through the crowd.

When you got to the table, you filled a cup with beer and drank it all in one go. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, shocked at how determined you were. The second time, you were about to put the beer straight to your lips, but your friend was quicker and took it out of your hands.

"Okay. I think you've had enough."

You looked at your friends, and saw that Bangchan was looking at you and Hyunjin. There was something unusual in his gaze, something you couldn't and didn't want to understand. But something was causing you to feel uneasy. Especially in your panties.

You noticed the strange movement because in a second he was nowhere to be found. In the crowd, you saw Bangchan coming towards you.

“Hyun. Kiss me.”

Hyunjin froze, his brow arching high enough to vanish beneath his dark fringe. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“I need you to kiss me,” you repeated, your voice steady but your eyes darting toward the crowd. “Like, now.”

His hand stalled mid-motion, the glass he’d been holding clinking softly as he set it on the table. “What’s going on with you today?” he asked, studying you like you’d just sprouted another head. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Hyunjin, seriously,” you hissed, stepping closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Just act. I need you to do this for me. Now. Please.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback, before his gaze narrowed slightly. “This better not be a setup for something ridiculous,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching. “But fine. If it’s that important...”

The boy shrugged. He was surprised by the situation, but he would never refuse a demand for a kiss, even if it was a fake one. Hyunjin grabbed your face and pulled you into a solid kiss. There was no tongue, and there wasn't much feeling either. There was no excitement or the usual growing heat between you. But that didn't mean your friend wasn't a good kisser.

You kept going for a few seconds, until you needed to catch your breath and pushed him away by squeezing his shoulder a little. Hyunjin raised his eyebrows and shrugged. A girl walked past you, looking surprised. One of Hyunjin's friends called out to him, and then he left.

You hadn't a clue what you were doing. The idea after executing it seemed like a disaster. Kissing your friend to throw Bangchan off sounded better in your head.

"You sure love being the center of attention, don’t you?"

The voice that followed caught you off guard, smooth and laced with confidence. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you quickly shrugged it off.

"Funny, coming from you," you shot back, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm. He couldn’t see your face, but the eye-roll in your voice was impossible to miss.

And to be honest with himself, he could imagine a bunch of other things, too.

Receiving a blowjob from a student in his room was nice, but what made him come was having you watching. All this mutual hate made him more excited. It was like a competition, and every day he got closer to scoring.

He couldn't ignore your figure as you walked by, the way your pants clung to the curves of your body. Seeing you there, watching, made him think about doing all sorts of things, but none of them involved those pants.

"Kissing my friends in front of me? Bold move." He laughed at the look of disgust on your face. “If you wanted to join in, sweetheart, you could’ve just said so." His voice dropped, low and smooth, as he leaned closer. You could feel the dampness of his plump lips on your skin.

Frustrated by the interaction, you spun around and averted his gaze.

"You’re so full of yourself, it’s gross" But it didn't matter. The more you talked, the more he enjoyed himself. "And you're a disgusting, perverted..."

"If I'm all that, then why didn't you close the door, hmm?" He shot back, his smirk widening.

You were at a loss for words, your mind scrambling to form a coherent thought. Bold didn’t even begin to describe him. Bangchan wiped his lips with an infuriating nonchalance, stepping closer until the air between you was practically charged.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously smooth. “You wanted to be her, didn’t you?” Your eyes widened. "I know you did. Yeah. You watched 'cause you liked what you saw. You wanted it to be your lips wrapped around my cock.”

"You're..."

“Save it,” he interrupted with a cocky smirk, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t waste your breath. If you really want to find out, meet me there.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your pulse pounding in your ears. The sight of his broad shoulders and that silver chain resting against his toned abdomen only made things worse.

This was insane. Your head spun, and it wasn’t from the booze. His words, his presence, everything about him was too much—and yet, your body betrayed you.

Did you want to find out?

The whispers from theater rehearsals echoed in your mind. The girls who couldn’t stop talking about him, the things he supposedly did, the way he made them feel. Was he really that good? Was he as intoxicating as he seemed when you caught that glimpse earlier?

If none of that made sense, then why did your body tell you otherwise?

So you walked among a crowd of people. The noise of your thoughts overwhelmed the music. With each step, you found a reason to quit. Your friends were having fun, and they probably wouldn't miss you for a few minutes, right? What was wrong with you?

How could you even think about having sex with Bangchan?

Three doors were closed, but the same one was open. You closed your eyes, believing you had time to give up. But your body didn't cooperate. You had to feed the heat coursing through your body, otherwise you'd burn up — and you couldn't let that happen.

The room was dark when you pushed open the door. Your eyes scanned the darkness until you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. Bangchan's gaze conveyed surprise. It was a shot in the dark. He didn't think you would come.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in a charged silence that seemed louder than words. The dim light made everything sharper—the way his chest rose and fell, the way his eyes darkened as they lingered on you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, indecision clawing at you. Turning on your heel, you made a move to leave, but before you could take a full step, Bangchan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, firm yet electrifying.

“This is a dumb decision.”

"But here you are." Bangchan hesitated. The sight of your soft, cherry-painted lips looked so tempting that he could think of only one thing: devouring you. "Fuck it."

He reached back and clicked the door shut, the sound echoing in the heavy silence. You noticed the way his forearm flexed but quickly looked away, catching something else in his eyes instead—something raw, something dangerous.

“So,” he murmured, stepping closer, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “You know what?”

You swallowed hard, retreating step by step until your back hit the desk, the cool surface grounding you against the heat of his presence.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely steady. Holding his gaze felt impossible, especially when every nerve in your body screamed at you to close the gap.

But you didn’t move—not yet. Even though all you wanted was to tear down the distance and let the fire between you consume everything.

Bangchan’s hand found your stomach, his thumb brushing over the bare skin with maddening precision, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a ripple of heat through your body that settled low in your core.

Before you knew it, you were perched on the edge of the table, legs parted just enough to let him step between them. His presence filled the space around you, his confidence suffocating in the most infuriating way.

He took his time, gently touching your skin with his knuckles, brushing them over your arms, until he leaned forward and placed his lips on your jaw. The tingling sensation of his lips on your skin was like taking an opiate. You felt nothing and everything at the same time.

His breath fanned your skin as he kissed the spot just below your ear, drawing a soft gasp from you. He paused, his lips trailing to your jawline, and his voice, low and rough, broke the silence. "I wished it was you. With your pretty little mouth around me. Thinking about you made me come. So fucking hard."

A sob escaped your lips. The words were painful for your sore body. His tongue crawled over your chin. Bangchan held your face with one hand, making you stare into his eyes. Naked and raw. "You like that, hmm? D’ya like knowing that I think ‘bout you?” You wanted to fight back. You didn't want to let him dominate you.

“You're fucking ridiculous.”

Bangchan’s lips curled into that infuriatingly cocky smile, the one that set your nerves on fire.

 That's his girl. With a clever mouth.

“Yeah, is that so?” He sucked on your lip, pulling you to him in painstaking haste.

“Yes.” You moaned copiously. You hissed, though the conviction in your voice wavered as his hand slid up your thigh, slow and measured. His knuckles brushed the soft skin there, and the ache he left in your wake was unbearable. With his other hand, he circled your inner thigh, climbing achingly up to your cunt.

“I want you to say that again when I make you cum. Mmm, what ya say?” He murmured, his lips brushing your ear as his other hand settled firmly on your hip. A low laugh rumbled in his chest as a shaky moan slipped from yours, unbidden but impossible to hold back. 

His hand inched higher, and you fought to keep your composure, though the heat pooling low in your stomach made it a losing battle.

“I fuckin' hate you.” you spat, though your breathless tone robbed it of any real venom.

“We'll see about that.”

His words were a promise, cocky and assured, and without leaving room for an answer, he devoured your mouth with devotion. Both bodies undulated against each other, desperate for friction, for warmth. Bangchan spread your thighs, pushing you backwards. It was so intense that your back was arching over, the two of you battling for control.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim. His hands moved with purpose, gripping your thigh and pulling you closer as his body pressed into yours, the heat between you like a live wire. The table groaned beneath you as he guided you back, his palm sliding up to part your legs further, making room for him to settle between them.

Your back arched against the cool surface, the contrast of heat and cold heightening every sensation. His lips left yours only to trail down your jaw, his breath hot and uneven as it ghosted over your skin. The tension in the air was suffocating, an unspoken challenge lingering between each frantic touch.

It was a fight neither of you was willing to lose, and yet, the way his hands moved, the way his lips devoured, it was clear he wasn’t about to let you win.

Your hands reached for the sweatshirt on his broad, muscular shoulders and tossed it to the floor. The gap between kisses was long enough for you to lift your own top and rip it off eagerly. You could have sworn you heard an almost beastly growl emanating from Bangchan, something completely charged with lust.

A large, calloused hand grabbed your throat, making you choke. His finger pressed against your lip, which you licked religiously, giving him a taste of what was coming. Bangchan pressed your body until you collided with the wall and your hands clung to the rim of the table. And in due time he nibbled your tit, snaking his tongue around it, savoring the tenderness of your skin.

You bit your lip down and held back a moan. Your gut rippled like the ocean waves as the intoxicating rush grew in your belly, down your legs, and scorched your toes.

You felt his hand come close to your wet core and your whole body went on alert. Bangchan bit your nipple and looked at you only to see the girl with her lips wide open, eyes bright and flushed cheeks.

This sight could kill him.

Just as he was about to come to your lips again, a knock sounded at the door. You instinctively ducked behind him, your heart hammering in your chest "Oops, sorry man!" The boy's voice echoed through the room, and with a snap, the door slammed shut.

A rush of adrenaline surged through you—not from what was happening, but the brief panic of being caught. It was ridiculous, but the sensation gripped you harder than you’d like to admit.

"Shit, I’ll lock it."

Biting your lip at the image of the man walking to the door and then to you. His lips swollen from kissing your body, the marks of nails on his chest, his messy hair, it was a perfect match.

"You know what, I'm rethinking the whole pant thing. Maybe I'll fuck you in 'em." Before he could finish, you cupped his face in both hands, stopping him in his tracks. His eyebrow quirked in interest, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I just remembered,” you said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “A few minutes ago, you were, well... y'know. Right there.”

You both glanced toward the corner of the room, the absurdity of the situation hitting you at the same time. And, with a shared moment of clarity, laughter bubbled out of you, the tension briefly breaking.

"Right.'" He captured your mouth. Bangchan said, that familiar cocky smirk now full force. “I can fuck you anywhere,” he kissed you again, and then you lost your breath. "the backseat of my car," Again a kiss. "Any fucking place. But we can start here."

In a daze, you clung to each other like two animals. Every second you begged for air, he devoured your mouth more and more. His nimble hands fought against your pants. He wanted to touch you, to feel you.

Growling, he added. "Lift your hips for me."

You, overtaken by lust, quickly bent down on the table so that he could unbutton your pants and pull them all the way down, past your boots, which also reached down to the other side of the bedroom.

Bangchan held the back of your knees and marveled at the sight of your bare body. It was like a damn mirage. The skimpy pink panties were nothing, showing all your dampness. There was no trace of embarrassment on your face, just an unbridled urge to be taken by him.

Absorbed to your body, Bangchan held your neck with both of his hands, this time tilting your body backwards. With his own body, he splayed your legs with his free hand. Your intimacies were bare, your body bathed in the dim light streaming through the nearby window.

He captured your mouth and ran his fingers over the cloth. He squeezed his fingertips against your clit, making your clenched teeth grind together. Feeling his hand around your nape of the neck, the lack of oxygen in your lungs and the short circuit from the friction of his hand down there was electrical.

Bangchan wriggled over the fabric in slow, painful circular motions. He was excruciatingly hard inside the sweatpants. He wanted to take off and make a mess of you, but first he wanted to relish every second and push you to the limit.

"My God." Words slipped from your lips, preaching to the divine, as you felt yourself being ravished.

Bangchan stretched the fabric and stroked the core with his fingers, wetting them without caring. How he looked at you, how he looked at your tight pussy was erotic. The noises you made when he slid his fingers through your labia and then threatened to push in two fingers at the one time. It was the sensation near death. You could feel an orgasm coming gradually, in heavy, lusty waves.

If he didn't stop teasing you, you'd come too fast.

"Hang in there, baby." He brushed a finger across your lips, sliding them into your warm, wet mouth. Everything was intensified by the endearing pet name. You got proof that the rumors were true. "Spread for me... Like that." You raised your legs and placed your feet on the table, giving him a full view of your body.

You could feel the wetness everywhere. Bangchan took two fingers in your mouth and let you suck them like a piece of candy. Without taking your eyes off him for a second, you went along with it.

"Good girl."

And with the same fingers, he delved into you. His fingers in the precise curl, in the precise place that made you cry out. And if the music hadn't been deafening, everyone at the party would have heard you moaning under his fingers.

By sucking on your lower lip, he began a unique rhythm. According to the rhythm of your body snaking around him, Chan went harder and faster. Your lips opened impulsively, flowing under his. Wide-eyed, your face froze into an ethereal feature, fogged with bliss.

You took hold of his wrist, the hand in which he was thrusting into you, and forced him to go faster. You desperately wanted - needed - to reach the body-rattling orgasm. It was already becoming impossible to hide the screams that tore from your throat. He was just very skilled at doing it and left you craving more.

“Bangchan...” A pitying look on your face made him break out into a maniacal smirk. To hear his own name coming from your mouth was like a narcotic being shot into his veins. He wanted better, he wanted you to realize what you had done to him.

Letting go of your throat, which until then had been under his grasp, Bangchan got down on his knees and dived into your pussy. You groped your hand to stop yourself from bawling. Your raw nerves were on edge and any more stimulation would make you burst. But he was relentless. With his savvy tongue, he outlined movements on your clit, leaving your moistness to rub through his lips and all over your core.

“Shit, shit, shit...” You purred. Suddenly, holding onto the dark strands of the boy in front of you, bringing your body closer, provoking more friction. Bangchan took advantage of every second, kissing and suckling your vulnerable flesh, swirling around your core and tongue teasing your insides.

You were rolling on his face. Sweat trickled down your spine and temples. Incoherent utterances came from your lips as muffled moans tore from Bangchan's deep throat. That pain was building, growing in your stomach. Your body was moving in an illogical way and Bangchan had to place his palm on your lower stomach to keep you from moving.

And that's when, with his mouth still on your cunt, he pinched your clit, making you seize up. The orgasm struck you hard, spewing electric waves throughout your body, leaving you sluggish and weak. Bangchan kept hold of your body as you fell apart, an disembodied vision.

You cried out his name as you came and he made you swallow every single moan.

“Mmm, you're so fucking hot when you cum for me.”

You sat on the edge again, spreading Chan's arm muscles. Looking down, you caught yourself wondering at the sight of his hard cock framing the edge of his pants like a carving, too beautiful to just look at.

Your hands went down to the edge of the white sweatpants he was still wearing - quite unfair, given that you were only wearing a pair of panties that were now barely fit for anything. A cocky smile hung on the man's lips. He enjoyed it with his hands on the table as you took it off, gawping at the size of it. The girth. The form. It was surreal.

Bangchan was holding back. He'd dreamt of having your hands and mouth around his cock for a very long time. And now, you were there, stroking him back and forth, in a slow, excruciating rhythm. He could let you have a taste and get on your knees to him. He'd fuck your mouth so relentlessly that you'd never have another smart-ass word for him. You'd always remember that one moment.

But he was overwhelmed by the mirage of your body and the sounds it caused in you.

“Oh, fuck.” A guttural moan broke from his lips. With his mouth open, he looked at where you were fucking him, your soft hand stroking his length. It was too much. He wasn't going to last. “I need you to stop.”

“Why?”

Chan squeezed your thighs together, hating himself for not feeling your touch where he needed it most.

“As much as I want you on your knees for me, I really need to fuck you.”

You chewed your lip, sensing the heat coming back to your face and your core. "Save that pretty little mouth for next time. Yeah?"

Next time. The phrase lingered in your head, leaving you with a queasy feeling in your gut.

With one hand, he spread your legs and held your leg up high enough for him to have the reach he needed to make you come a second time. That was his trick. He knew what he was doing too well, and you loathed him for it.

“Chan...” You whimpered. He grunted and brought your bodies together. He held the shaft of his own cock and stroked it for a few seconds before brushing the tip against your slit. You gasped for air at the feeling. "Please. Chan." You pleaded, searching his eyes. It was too much of a torture and you wouldn't be able to bear it if he wasn't fast.

“Fuck, don't do it like that...” He whined, still thrusting into your hole with his own cock. “Fucking Christ.” Your wetness made him slide between the clit and the slit. Your eyes went wide, collapsing. Meanwhile, Chan was glued to the point where you connected.

Slowly, he slipped in. A moan in unison reverberated almost in praise.

He knew it wouldn't last long. Being deep inside you was driving him insane. You were making him slip, making the movements clumsy but so delicious. Bangchan pressed down on your calf, pinning it to his chest. You leaned over, holding onto his shoulder. The sight was like a fucking movie scene.

You entwined as one.

Bangchan took his time to lengthen his movements, first because he could feel every inch of your pussy swallow him up. It was so fucking good. He nibbled his lip tightly, gliding in a little more, causing you to whimper.

“Faster.” Pleas burst from your ruined lips.

“Fuuuuck.” Bangchan upped the pace, a frantic and luscious back and forth. “You're fuckin' surreal.”

He could have been saying anything, but your brain was thawing, your body morphing. Being stuffed until his balls hit your skin was opulent. Their bodies met halfway, each moving as fast as possible to get themselves there. Bangchan had to hold onto the table to avoid a hole in the wall. The furniture kept bouncing in line with your bodies.

The rapturous feeling fills you and takes you to the edge. What was left of the room was a mess of panting and skin on skin. Your hips rode the width of him. He was falling to pieces little by little, feeling his body combust.

From the way his veins seemed more prominent and thicker, his neck stiff, his sweat accentuating his smooth skin, you could tell. You rocked your body vigorously back and forth, giving him deep, dry thrusts. Bangchan then reached a point set aside to take you to heaven.

When the groans dared escape your lips, he devoured them, one by one, eating up the pleas, his name coming out of your mouth like a holy prayer that only he would hear. That was enough time for your body to succumb to the fierce orgasm and for Bangchan to pull out, thrusting with his own hand and letting go on your sweat-damp stomach.

You were still hanging on to his shoulder, trying to find your feet. Both panting and with your eyes closed, you seemed to recover some consciousness. His eyes were still clouded with desire, in a hue you had never yet witnessed.

“Well,” you said between chuckles. “I think you've just proved your point.”

Bangchan laughed and then helped you up from the desk. Your clothes were scattered around the room, your boots under a stranger's bed. You cleaned up and dressed. Make-up was intact, but your hair was a tangled mess. He watched from the corner of his eye as he put on his own underwear.

After a brief fix in the mirror, you turned around a little awkwardly, as if he hadn't just given you the best sex of your entire life.

“So, I'm going out first... Just in case... You know, anyone sees me.”

In fairness, he was quite taken aback. He hadn’t expected what had just happened to mean anything to you, but there was a part of him—just a sliver—that hoped it might shift your perspective. The realization stung his pride, but he masked it, keeping the quiet frustration buried deep inside.

"Yeah. Whatever."

You shot him a glance, your expression unreadable. "All right. Well, I guess... that’s it. I’ll see you around."

Your smile was soft, but there was an undertone of something more—a knot in your chest that wouldn’t let go. He nodded, his face as impassive as ever, his eyes giving nothing away.

With a soft exhale, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes squeezed shut.

What the fuck had you just done?

[jaeyunluvbot]

classmates to lovers with heeseung

۫ ꣑ৎ lee heeseung x fem!reader

masterlist

[scorpieuns]

I’M YOURS | JAKE SIM

pairing: ex!jake x afab!reader, friend! sunghoon x afab!reader

summary: despite your best friend and sunghoon’s attempts to get to you move on from your ex-boyfriend, you just simply cannot get over jake—and he can’t either.

word count: 6.1k

genre: friends to undefined. exes to ambiguous. college setting.

warnings (18+): smut (absolute filth.) fluff (if you use a microscope lmfao). alcohol. mentions of breakups. (slightly) possesive jake. kissing. grinding. nipple play (f. recieving). fingering (f. recieving.). unprotected sex. slightly rough sex. doggie. slight hair pulling. multiple orgasms. both reader and jake are stubborn as hell. (let me know if there’s anything missing!)

A/N: inspired by the request posts from @rivaillescum and @teddursa — I got wayyy to carried away lol but first long fic post!

“What about him?” Aeri yells over the music, your eyes following her pointed finger towards a man leaning against the wall with his eyes glued to the phone in his hand.

“Park Wonbin from art history?” You turn to the girl with an eyebrow raised, “Park Wonbin, who’s had a girlfriend since last fall?”

Aeri's shoulders sink, “I should’ve known someone who looked like that wasn’t single.” You laugh at her bummed out expression, sipping the drink in your hands as you subtly dance to the music playing.

“Now him?” She nods towards the direction of another man, expressively dancing in the large crowd, “I cannot have a one night stand with a wannabe tiktoker Ae.”

“Why are you so difficult?” She groans, resting her head against the wall.

“Just give up already.”

“I can’t,” she whines, “I brought you out tonight so you could have fun, and get over Jake.”

You almost choke on your drink, “What? It's been like…two weeks since we broke up.”

“Exactly.” She retorts. “That’s why I shouldn't catch you staring at his contact all the damn time.” Your mouth falls open, “That was just one time!”

Aeri raises her eyebrows and you fall silent, already foreseeing your defeat in this little argument.

“Look,” Aeri says, her voice softening, “what matters is that this time you’re really done with him.” Her words were gentle, but the weight of them hit you harder than you expected. Aeri meant well, but the truth was embarrassing.

It had been two weeks since you broke up with Jake—for the third time in four months. Yes, third.

And no, you didn’t know why you kept going back either. Maybe dating a frat boy who happened to be a soccer star wasn’t your brightest idea.

Looking back, it seemed like you'd signed up for trouble with a side of emotional whiplash and good sex.

At first, Jake had been amazing.

Sophomore year started like a rom-com: he treated you like royalty, planned cute dates, stayed up all night with you in the library (even though he wasn’t the one with exams), and Jake just couldn’t get enough of you. The first six months were straight out of your dreams.

Your friends were gagging at how cute you were, even painting your face with his team colours to cheer him on with your friends from the bleachers like the supportive girlfriend you were—waiting for him to sweep you off your feet with a kiss whenever he won a game.

Then, everything changed after the final soccer game for the College Cup. Jake’s hero moment brought home the trophy, and suddenly, soccer was his whole life. You were still proud of him, of course, but things quickly started to feel…off.

Calls became shorter, dates were postponed, and before you knew it, you were practically his motivational speaker, squeezed in between practice sessions and interviews.

By the end, it felt like you were on his schedule, like a convenience more than a priority. He only called when he needed something—and that was obviously whenever he was horny and wanted to fuck what ever stress he had out of him.

You finally confronted him about it, hoping he’d realize that he was treating you like a fuck buddy more than his girlfriend—but instead, Jake argued, claiming he was too “busy” for “all that other dating stuff.”

That was your tipping point.

So, you broke up. And just when you thought you were free and ready to move on, summer ends and Jake reappears like some kind of relationship boomerang.

He apologized, said all the right things, told you how much he missed you—and boom. Hours later, you’re back in his bed, wondering how it all happened.

The cycle was maddening. Each time he’d win you over with apologies and promises, things would feel perfect again, and then…well, you knew how it went.

“This time, it’s really over,” you declare over the pounding music, convincing yourself more than anyone else.

The last breakup was the worst yet. You argued for hours, screaming about relationships and priorities, and it finally hit you: Jake didn’t really deserve your time.

So why was it so hard to let him go?

You brushed away the ache in your heart as your argument came to mind, downing what was left of your drink to somehow dull the pain and take solace in the alcohol settling into your system.

“You just need a rebound.” Aeri says over the music, “I promise you, a good one night stand might just give you a fresh start and get you out of Jake's chokehold.”

“So is that why you dragged me to a party being hosted by his frat house?” You inquired with amusement. “Oh come on! Not every guy here belongs to the frat.”

You mull over her ‘rebound’ statement, eyes surveying the crowd as your nails made dents into the empty can. “Speaking of...” Aeri trails off and you follow the direction of her gaze to another one of your university's well known juniors and soccer players, Park Sunghoon.

Your eyes landed on his, staring at you from across the room with a gaze that made your cheeks warm. Sunghoon was one of the other popular boys in the year. He was sweet, funny, playful and damn that smile— you understood why girls fell at his feet.

You and Sunghoon had a few interactions before. You volunteered as a first aid for their soccer games on a few occasions, and he consistently took the chance to talk to you whenever you were present or needed his supposedly real injuries examined.

“He's been watching you for quite a while now.” She adds, playfully bumping her shoulder against yours. You divert your attention from him and look back at your best friend who was sporting a cheeky grin.

“The goalkeeper, Ae? That’s such a low blow.”

The girl besides you shrugs, moving her body to the beat of the music, “So…? He clearly likes you and I’m one hundred percent sure he’d treat you better than he ever did.”

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when she cuts you off. “Oh! I think I have to go to the…bathroom! I’ll see you later (Y/N).” She says, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before rushing away from your side.

Your eyebrows meet in confusion as she dashes away from you, mouth agape at her sudden and abrupt departure—even running the opposite way.

But before your mind can conjure up any reasons, you hear your name being called in the loud crowd, turning to see Sunghoon making his way to you.

Oh. I see what you did there Aeri.

"Hey, angel," Sunghoon’s voice is low, with that unmistakable charm as he saunters up to you, eyes locked on yours.

"Sunghoon," you breathe, smiling as he closes the distance, his arms opening for you. His gaze flickers over your face, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Knew I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere," he murmurs as his arms slip around your waist, pulling you close.

For a moment, you let yourself sink into him—his scent wrapping around you, the firm warmth of his hands pressing against your lower back. It’s like everything around you fades except the feel of his body, the way your heart picks up in rhythm with his.

“How’ve you been?” you ask softly, voice catching just a bit as he pulls away, though his hands stay where they are, fingers resting casually on your hips.

“Any ‘injuries’ since I’ve been gone?” You tease, and the sound of his laugh sends a thrill through you.

“You noticed, huh?” Sunghoon’s voice drops a notch lower, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles just above your hip.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "How many times were you going to fake a knee injury in one game?”

“As many times as it took to get you close.” His hand lifts, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your skin just enough to make you bite your lip.

“It’s kinda hard to keep my eyes on you when I'm supposed to be, y’know…playing.” His lips curl into a slow smirk, eyes burning into yours.

“Well,” you whisper, feeling the heat rise between you, “you’ve got me all to yourself now.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops to your lips, making your pulse race. The air thickens, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah?” His voice is pure temptation, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “Do I get to kiss you too?”

You don’t even have to think about it. You nod, lips parting slightly, eyes dipping to his mouth. His smirk deepens as he closes the distance, and your breath catches, waiting for the touch you've been craving.

Sunghoon wasted no time kissing you, softly crashing his lips against yours in a way that made you hum in content.

You could taste the remnants of his drink as he kissed you slowly and softly, meticulously exploring your mouth with his tongue as his hands stayed glued to your hips, rubbing your sides through the silk fabric of your minidress.

Your hand drifted to his, guiding it down to cup your ass which made him groan into your mouth. Sunghoon broke away from the kiss, softly biting your bottom lip as he pulled away with a smirk.

He leans closer to the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Do you want to take this upstairs?” The feeling of his hand caressing your ass makes you sigh, already feeling the fabric of your underwear sticking to you.

But before you could even respond, your eyes landed on someone who had suddenly materialised across the room, heart dropping to your stomach and your breath catching in your throat.

Jake.

His clenched jaw made you conclude that his eyes were seemingly already on you for what must’ve been like a while now, searing holes through you and Sunghoon from afar.

Your ears grew warm, gently pushing the tall man off you with a strained exhale. “Is everything alright? Did I do anything wrong?” Sunghoon asked as he scanned you worryingly.

“Of course not!” You immediately protest, “I just…” you trailed off as your eyes darted to the man who was still staring at you before they landed back on Sunghoon’s concerned ones.

“I don’t think I’m feeling well.”

It wasn’t a lie. You felt like you were gonna throw up with all the bile that was rising in your throat.

Why did he have to appear right now?

You could feel yourself slowly sobering up as you glanced at Jake once again, warm brown eyes staring you down in a way that made your breathing stutter.

“I think I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter as you look away, swallowing the unwelcomed lump in your throat.

“Oh…the line to the bathroom looks pretty bad right now, you could use ours upstairs?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Sure!” He nods with a smile, “do you want me to go with you?”

You shake your head, “It's okay, I’ll…I’ll be back” You smile weakly, pressing a quick kiss on Sunghoon’s lips before you slip away from his hold.

You couldn’t even bother to reply to his distant “call me if you need me” as you travelled through the sea of bodies, trying to find your way to stairs as your heart hammered out of your chest.

Shit.

Nothing could’ve prepared you to actually see Jake, even if you half-heartedly expected it. The frat house was so large, you had concluded that you probably wouldn’t have to see him.

Some part of you—regrettably and painfully so, already concluded that he was probably somewhere, rutting into some girl that threw herself at him, celebrating the freedom of being single or something.

You stormed up the stairs, making a beeline for the bathroom, relieved to find that it was empty as Sunghoon had mentioned, and as soon as the door closed behind you, you let out a weary sigh, muttering a curse under your breath.

Now you were mad at yourself. Why did you push Sunghoon away?

You could’ve let the junior lead you upstairs all while Sunghoon watched, knowing he knew exactly what you’d be up to–but you pushed him off. You could already imagine Jake’s joy when you walked away, leaving Sunghoon alone in the crowd.

Well done (Y/N).

Well-fucking-done. You thought to yourself as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, but your little self berating session was interrupted by the suddenly louder and crispier sound of music emitting into the bathroom, eyes travelling to the opened door.

When Jake comes into view, you roll your eyes and sigh inwardly. “What the hell do you want, Jake?” Is all you say, instantly plagued by irritation.

It was hard to admit, but he did look good tonight. All traces of his once blonde tinged hair were drowned out by the colour of jet black and it suited him so well.

He was dressed in a black dress shirt, chain around his neck and pair of loose fitting jeans that hung around his hips—a simple outfit that still looked undeniably great on him.

“I just came to check on you,” he shoves his hands in his back pockets as he nods his head to the door, “you didn’t look so well out there.”

“I’m fine.” You say, turning away, “can you get fuck out now?”

“Woah, just hang on a sec,” Jake sighs, “I haven’t seen you in ages, princess.”

Princess.

“I’m not your princess anymore Jake,” you deadpanned. “We broke up, remember? For good this time.” You added, emphasising the finality of it.

You wanted to make it clear that there was no going back, that this time Jake couldn't make you cave or entice you to return.

You were ready for something–someone– new, and you were pretty sure he was still waiting for you downstairs.

This was the perfect time to leave before you’d probably do anything you’d regret, especially when you noticed Jake’s lingering gaze on your minidress.

You cleared your throat, rolling your eyes as you tried to slip past Jake, but he blocked your way, his hand grabbing your wrist. His grip wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to halt you. “So, you’re really going back to him?” His words were sharp, a hint of desperation creeping in.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “That’s none of your business.” Yanking your hand free, you spun on your heel, making for the door without so much as a second glance.

“(Y/N), baby, wait.” He followed closely, reaching out again, but you dodged him with a huff, crossing your arms tighter around yourself.

“Jake, seriously, just leave me alone.”

“Baby—” He finally managed to catch your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You groaned, throwing your head back with exaggerated frustration. “What now, Jake?”

He tried to meet your eyes, but you refused, stubbornly staring at anything that wasn’t his face. His hand cupped your chin, gently turning your face to his. “Can we please talk? Please?” Jake’s voice was soft, almost pleading, and that stupid thumb of his traced along your jaw, sending a wave of heat through you that you definitely did not want to feel right now.

“Fine. Whatever,” you muttered, not quite looking at him but letting him lead you into his room.

As the door closed behind you, muffling the noise of the party downstairs, your gaze drifted around the room, filled with memories you weren’t ready to be reminded of yet.

But Jake didn’t give you the chance to settle into those thoughts. “Sunghoon?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief as he turned to you. His expression darkened instantly. “Seriously? Sunghoon?”

You snorted, shrugging carelessly. “Yeah, so what? He’s hot.”

Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you could practically hear his teeth grinding together. “So, what—you’re actually gonna sleep with him?” He sounded like he couldn’t decide if he was hurt or furious.

You folded your arms, lifting your chin defiantly. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” He stepped closer, and this time, you didn’t flinch. You wanted him to be mad. You liked him like this, all riled up and focused on you.

“You’re gonna fuck the one guy you told me not to worry about? The guy who’s been after you since the day we got together? My friend and my teammate?”

His eyes narrowed at you and you shrugged again, feigning indifference even though your heart was beating way too fast. “We’re not together anymore, Jake. I can sleep with whoever I want.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite read—anger, hurt, jealousy, all rolled into one.

“Wow. You really don’t care, do you?” His voice had gone quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel something twist in your stomach.

You opened your mouth to snap back, but the words didn’t come out as easily as you wanted them to. “I don’t…I mean, I told you, I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t get to—

“I don’t get to?” He cut you off, his laugh bitter as he ran his hand through his hair, pacing in front of you. “You’ve really moved on, huh? That easy?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go. But before you could say anything, he stepped closer again, backing you up until your legs hit the bed.

“You still feel something, (Y/N),” he said, his voice low, and the way his eyes bore into yours made it impossible to deny, even if you wanted to. “You’re still mine. You know it.”

Your heart was racing now, his closeness making it hard to breathe. But you weren’t about to let him win that easily. “I’m not yours, Jake. Not anymore.” Your voice wavered, just slightly, but you held your ground.

His hand reached out, fingertips brushing your arm, the touch so light it made your skin tingle. “Say it again,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Tell me you don’t care.”

You swallowed, hating how your resolve was crumbling under his touch. “I—I don’t care,” you repeated, but the words sounded less convincing now, and you both knew it.

“I’m done with you, Jake.” Your voice came out sharper, laced with defiance, but the flicker of doubt behind it didn’t go unnoticed by your ex boyfriend.

“Are you sure?” Jake’s words were smooth, almost teasing, as he leaned in closer, fingers drifting over to the slope of your neck. He saw the way your eyes betrayed you, flickering to his lips for a brief second, and his smirk grew. “Because you don’t look over me.”

You rolled your eyes, even though your pulse quickened. “Has anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?” The bitterness in your laugh didn’t mask the heat that rose to your cheeks.

“Maybe. But it doesn’t make it any less true,” he said, his voice infuriatingly smug. “I saw you staring at me out there, (Y/N). You couldn’t keep your eyes off me, even with him standing right there.”

“You’re delusional,” you shot back, but the words didn’t have the bite you wanted them to. There was an edge of frustration—at him, at yourself—that you couldn’t shake. “I wasn’t staring at you.”

Jake chuckled softly, stepping in just enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. “Sure, baby. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You are such an asshole,” you hissed, trying to inject some venom into the words, but it came out more exasperated than you intended.

Jake tilted his head, his gaze softening in that maddening way, like he knew exactly how to unravel you. “Come on (Y/N), don’t be like that. You know you miss me.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach, the warmth creeping into your chest. “I don’t miss anything about you.”

“Really?” he whispered, his hand finding its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his touch sent sparks through your skin. “Because I miss you. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel the traitorous warmth spreading through your veins.

His eyes—those stupid, beautiful brown eyes—were staring right into yours, and you hated that they still had that effect on you. But you weren’t about to give in. Not this time.

“I bet you have,” you muttered, rolling your eyes, though the sarcasm lacked its usual punch. “Probably because you miss having someone at your beck and call.”

Jake’s smirk faltered, but his gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not it, and you know it.” His voice was lower now, more intimate, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I miss you.”

Your chest tightened and you hated how easily he got to you, how your demeanor crumbled the second he looked at you like that.

“I’ve moved on,” you said, but your voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

“Have you?” He breathed, leaning in so close you could feel the heat of his bated breath against your lips, “because right now, you don’t look like someone who’s moved on.”

You should’ve pushed him away, told him off like you promised Aeri you would. But instead, a warm feeling fluttered in the pit of your stomach as his lips hovered just out of reach.

Jake’s fingers traced the line of your jaw, then down the side of your neck, sending electric shivers through your body as he leaned in even closer. The air between you was thick with tension, your breath shaky as you struggled to maintain control, slowly failing your resistance to give in to the desire that threatened to pull you under.

Jake’s lips brushed against yours before crashing against them in a heated, desperate kiss, his hand falling waist with tightening grip as if he was afraid to let go.

You kissed him back fiercely, your hands gripping his shirt as if to anchor yourself to the moment, all the anger, frustration, and unresolved feelings pouring into the kiss.

His soft plump lips moved unrelenting and hungrily against yours, his hands moving to cup your cheeks, fingers resting on your jaw as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to stay balanced as so many feelings crashed over you in equal measures, desperately leaning up into the kiss as you tried to match his fervour.

Oh, how you missed it.

His lips, his touch.

It all felt like a drug, a drug you disappointingly couldn't get enough of.

You fell into the bed softly, letting Jake hover over you without breaking the kisses, “I missed you.” he whispers, before kissing you again.

For a split second, you pulled back, breathless, your chest rising and falling as you looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re still an asshole,” you muttered, though there was no bite left in your voice now.

Jake’s lips curved into a smirk as he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one slower, softer. “Yeah, but you’re still kissing me,” he whispered against your lips.

Jake’s lips continued to moved against yours and you could barely breathe from the tightness in your chest, tangling your fingers into his soft hair as you drew him closer.

He pulled away and you barely had a second to think before his lips were on your neck, head falling to the side as soft sloppy kisses were pressed onto your skin, eliciting a soft moan from you.

You could feel Jake smirk against your neck, sucking marks into your skin that you were sure he wanted to show.

Your eyes flutter shut as his hands slowly ease down your body, his touch firmer than last time, lips lingering on the slope of your neck and fingers sliding under your dress.

Jake’s warm palm slid up the inside of your thighs and a wave of anticipation and desire coursed through you, a sound escaping your throat only to be muffled by his lips.

He pulled away and latched his lips to your collarbone, sucking and littering the skin with hues of purple as his fingers traced along your underwear making you arch your back reflectively.

"I’ve missed this." Jake whispers, hooking his finger around the waistband of your underwear, pressing a trail of sloppy kisses down the valley of your breasts as he slowly pulls your underwear off.

A shaky sigh fell past your lips at the feeling of the cool air hitting your cunt, and you couldn’t help but cry at the feeling of Jake’s fingers running up your glistening folds.

“Well…I…haven’t.” You breathe out stubbornly as his other hand pushes your straps over your arms, fingers brushing the cup of your dress away and running over your naked breasts.

The feeling of his cold rings grazing over your nipples makes you clench around nothing, half lidded eyes staring back at his lustful ones.

“Hmm. Really?” He asks, looking down between your legs, raising his eyebrow as he looked up.

“That was probably…” You begin, slowly losing your train of thought at the feeling of his hand caressing your breasts. “Shit—that was probably Sunghoon” You only manage to say in between swallowed moans.

“Come again?”

Your cheeky smile was quickly wiped off, as his fingers traced up and down your folds, biting your lip with a whine as he circled your wet entrance.

A soft breathy moan leaves your lips, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as his fingers slid into you with ease, leaning into his touch. “Jake, shit—” Your voice cuts off, mouth falling agape as he slowly drags his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s what I thought.”

Prick.

Jake’s plump lips latch onto your erect nipple, tongue swirling and sucking on the sensitive bud and your head falls back into the pillow biting your lip as your hands weave into Jake’s soft hair.

Jake groaned around your sensitive bud, making your whole body twitch at the vibration. His tongue moved to your other one, giving it the same treatment and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding against him, needing more.

His tongue and fingers were doing wonders on you, trying to silence the sounds falling from your lips. You resisted your moans by biting your lip to avoid giving him that satisfaction—which he obviously hated.

Jake could still tell that you were falling apart, ruining the fabric of his shirt and grinding into his fingers breathlessly, but that wasn't enough, he wanted to hear you.

“So we’re playing it that way, huh?” He pulled away, chest heaving against yours as you grabbed his arm, fingers continuing to pump into you, throwing head back with a breathy, almost silent moan before looking back at him.

“What way?” You rasped, feigning innocence, watching your ex-boyfriend chuckle to himself.

“Okay.”

And before you could get lost in the feeling of his fingers any longer, he slips out of your cunt, whining at the loss of his touch.

You were barely given time to protest or process anything before he swiftly flipped you over, face meeting the soft pillows that adorned his bed with a surprised gasp.

You could feel your heart thrum against your chest, face growing warm at the compromising position Jake just put you in.

You turned around, glancing at Jake's lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking your arousal clean off with a delighted hum.

He eyes darted over to yours, and you tore your eyes away, that dull ache returning to your thighs from the sight.

“M’gonna fuck you so good,” Jake's eyes trailed over your backside, “you’ll scream my name.” He groaned, kneading the soft flesh of your ass as your breath stuttered.

Jake quickly got rid of his clothes and you hated the way your heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

“Are you sure about that?” You challenge, almost yelping when he suddenly grabs your hips flush to his own.

He leaned over to you, brushing your hair away from your face as he pressed a soft kiss on the side of your temple.

“You and that damn attitude.” Jake clicked his tongue as he ran his cock along your folds, soft whimpers leaving your lips as he slowly pushed himself into you.

Jake watched as he eased himself in, moaning at the way your warmth and wetness sucked him in like a vacuum.

The stretch felt so good, so undeniably good and you hated the way your walls instantly fluttered around him, soft pathetic sounds falling out of your lips as he began to move, grabbing the sheets beneath with your swallowed cries.

You clamp your hand over your mouth and Jake glares, shaking his head with an affronted expression as he grabs that wrist, pinning it behind your back as he continues to work himself in and out of you.

“Shit.” You gasp, letting a few whimpers slip past your lips, cheek flushed against the soft pillows, a few moans escaping your throat at the feeling of him brushing over you in a way that made your vision cloudy before closing your mouth.

"You're taking me soooo well, baby.” Jake’s brows drew together with a moan, snapping his hips to yours as you clenched around him.

"Fuck, you missed this didn't you?" He hissed, watching you writhe in pleasure.

You were a mess beneath him, tears pricking your eyes at the way he relentlessly pounded into you.

You let out a loud gasp when Jake reached under to play with your clit, pressing his finger into it, "Jake." You whispered with a whimper, fisting the sheets, still stubbornly refusing to make any sound—which Jake only took as a challenge.

Your heart couldn't help but swell with guilt when Sunghoon came to mind, still awaiting your return.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe after a few minutes had passed, he went over to check on you, only to hear your moans emitting from the crevices of Jake's door before walking away.

Jake really did have a chokehold on you.

The man pulled out with a curse, and you cried at the sudden loss. You were about to turn around to protest when Jake gripped the base of his cock, lining up with your puffy entrance again.

With no warning, Jake plunged his dick into your tight heat, the sound of skin slapping against each other and a scream leaving your lips as the man fucked you relentlessly.

“That's it, princess, let me hear those beautiful moans.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, gasping and writhing, arching your back and pushing yourself against his cock, begging for more.

“You're so fucking good around me- fucking made for me.” Jake groans, low moans tumbling from his lips.

"You're mine aren't you?"

Of course, you wanted to scream no—you wanted to deny his claim, but his name spilled out of your lips, again and again, begging him not to stop.

"Say you're mine." He hissed, pounding his cock into you. Your heart raced, and you were certain that he could feel it as the pleasure continuously washed over you.

"Say it."

“Jake oh my—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hit your sweet spot, your face hot as you let out lewd sounds into the pillows with no control of your own, throat strained already.

"Fuck—Yes! I'm yours." You screamed, tears spilling out of your eyes as he worked his hand around your clit.

“I’m yours.” You moaned, clawing at the sheets. He continued to rub his finger over your swollen bud, his other hand reaching over to gently grab a fistful of your hair bringing you flush to his chest.

You could feel your legs begin to tremble as profound pleasure coursed through you, hands flailing around to grip on his shoulder as you continuously surged forward from Jake’s thrusts.

“That’s right, baby.” He rasped, almost bordering whimpers as he continued to pump in you, thick velvety walls hugging him so tightly, slipping in and out of you with such ease.

Your whimpers and screams echoed through the room, legs threatening to give out from just how good he felt, dizzying and intense pleasure washing over you everytime he thrusted into you.

You were too fucked out to be self conscious about your loud moans, or concerned that maybe people could somehow hear Jake fucking your brains out over the loud music.

If you weren’t so clouded and already fucked out, you would’ve guessed that Jake probably loved how loud you were.

It felt like he was telling the whole house that you were still his no matter what—especially Park Sunghoon.

Jake would notice the goalkeeper staring at you from across the field, cozying up to you as if he wasn’t just a few metres away from you— the nerve.

Like what the fuck happened to bro code?

“Do you think he can make you feel this way baby?” he asks and your mouth falls agape, brain foggy. You shook your head with a whimper.

You were so out of focus, his dick so good and stupefying that you couldn't even speak.

Jake revelled in the moans of his name tumbling past your lips. The thought of another guy’s name leaving those pretty lips drove him crazy, you were his, he had no idea what was going in Sunghoon’s mind to think that he could actually be with you.

He could feel you tightening around him and he knew you were close, thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release.

"Say my name." He hissed, "tell me who makes you feel this good."

"Jake-"

“I can’t hear you princess.” He groaned.

"Jake!" You sobbed, gasping and squirming as the pleasure became too much.

"That’s it, come for me, baby." He cooed, wrapping an arm around your neck and squeezing it gently.

The pressure on your throat, and the way his fingers played with your clit were enough to make you scream out his name, the coil in your stomach finally snapping, walls clamping around him and milking him for all he's worth as your legs shook, vision blackening, and eyes squeezing shut.

You moan his name, the only thing running through your mind and leaving your lips as he places you back into the bed, holding your hips.

"That’s right." Jake groaned, still slamming his hips into you. "Who does your pussy belong to?"

“Fuck,” you cried out, feeling another orgasm creep in, "it belongs to you, only you." You mewled as your walls tightened, shattering pleasure rippling through you once again, as his thrusts finally slowed.

“Such a pretty sight for me.” He moaned with a final thrust, shooting his seed into you as he rode out your highs.

Jake continued to empty his load into you, softly whimpering at the sudden warmth coating your walls until he finally pulled out of you.

Your head fell into pillows, the aftershocks of your orgasms still rippling through you as you tried to catch your breath.

"(Y/N)," He said softly, and you could feel his hands rest on the slope of neck and you slowly turned to look at him.

Jake gently wiped away your stray tears, his eyes looking for some sort of affirmation that what he did was okay, that he hadn't gone too far, that he didn't hurt you.

"You okay?"

You nodded with a dazed laugh, “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rasped, as he enveloped your lips in a sloppy and gentle kiss.

Jake wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the marks on your neck that he left a while ago.

“Stay over.” He whispers against your skin and your shoulders fall with a sigh, hands brushing his slightly damp hair away from his face, “I don’t know Jake…”

“Just for tonight.”

“Please.” He begs, in a softer tone. You looked at him— at his pretty face, his pink plump lips and his slightly messy hair, breathing in the mellow undertones of sweet vanilla in the perfume he was wearing tonight.

“Jake.” You whisper again, as you watch his hands caress your shoulders. You look up at him, ready to turn him down but you don’t say anything.

“We don’t have to do anything…I just want to be with you.”

Those words.

It’s like you could see your past self rolling her eyes, “not again.”

“Okay.”

You let him pull you back to his chest, let him wrap his arms around you as you fell asleep, lulled by the rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his beating heart.

Jake watched you fall asleep in his arms, and the sight alone made him forget about the world outside, and the ache that was still in his chest.

It was just for tonight.

Just for tonight.

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Series Page

Jeon Jungkook Series

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab)

❥genre/rating: 18 + explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, these two really do hate each other

❥description: You and Jungkook have always been at each other's throats, bound by a mutual disdain that runs deep. You both would rather step into traffic than be alone together. But when a chance encounter at a wedding leads to an unexpected and forbidden arrangement, the lines between enemies and something more begin to blur.

As your fiery clashes give way to stolen moments and fragile truces, both of you are forced to confront the pain and secrets that have kept you apart for so long. When the past and present collide, you and Jungkook must decide whether the scars you both hide are worth revealing—and if your fractured bond can ever be whole again.

❥warnings/tags: Lawyer!Jungkook, Nurse!reader, medical trauma/examinations, SMUT, swearing, drinking, smoking, angst, hurt/comfort, slooooowwwww burrrrrnnnnnnnnnn, mentions of cheating (not the main pair), minor character death (none of the boys), eventual happy ending

❥disclaimer: Fic is cross posted to ao3, every chapter I will give associated warnings and tags that apply.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Prologue // Ch.1 // Ch.2 // Ch.3 // Ch.4 // Ch.5 // Ch.6 // Ch.7 // Ch.8 // Ch.9 // Ch.10 // Ch.11 // Ch.12 // Ch.13 // Ch.14 // Ch.15 // Ch.16 // Ch.17 // Ch.18 // Ch.19 // Ch.20 // Ch.21 // Ch.22 // Ch.23 // Ch.24 // Ch.25 //... More to Come

Ch.7 EXTRA

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

[soobibabe]

chapter one - the proposal

synopsis: Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

pairings: jeon jungkook + reader genre ▸ romance [mature content in future chapters

Jungkook’s place felt like a second home to you. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through his sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room, that always made you feel… safe. His apartment wasn’t anything fancy, just a cozy, lived-in space, but it was warm, inviting—everything you needed right now. You sank deeper into the couch, clutching the throw pillow to your chest, feeling its familiar softness as you stared absently at the half-finished jigsaw puzzle on his coffee table. There were still pieces scattered everywhere, a mess that neither of you seemed too bothered to clean up. It was one of those things you’d start but never quite finish—like most of your plans lately.

The sound of clinking dishes came from the kitchen as Jungkook rummaged through his cabinets. "Tea or coffee?" he called, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Tea," you answered, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. You rubbed your forehead, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you all over again.

You heard him chuckle softly. "You okay in there? You’ve been weirdly quiet since you got here."

Was it okay? Not really. But you didn’t want to say that out loud just yet. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... thinking."

"Thinking doesn’t look good on you," he teased as he stepped back into the living room, carrying two steaming mugs. He handed you one, sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. "Talk to me."

You took the mug from him, warming your hands on the ceramic before exhaling a long sigh. "It’s Jae-on."

There it was. His name, still bitter on your tongue, even after all this time. It had been over a year since Jae-on called off the engagement. A year and a half, actually, but who was counting? You, apparently. You hated that you were still thinking about him, that he still had some kind of hold over you, even though you both moved on.

Jungkook gave you a knowing look, resting his arm on the back of the couch as he turned slightly to face you. "What’s he done now?"

You hesitated, feeling the familiar knot of frustration and resentment tightening in your chest. "He’s... getting married."

Jungkook didn’t blink. "I see." His voice was calm, measured, like he was processing it carefully.

"And not just that," you continued, your fingers tightening around the mug. "They’re having a baby. Jae-on and Garam."

You said her name like it was a bad word, which, in your mind, it was. Garam. The girl from high school who always seemed to have her life together, who always got what she wanted, and apparently now, that included your ex-fiancé.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Yu Garam? The one who used to follow you around like a puppy?"

"The very one." You groaned, sinking further into the couch. "Can you believe it? They’re throwing a baby shower, and guess who’s invited."

His expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "You don’t have to go, you know."

"I know." You stared down into your tea, swirling it absently. "But part of me feels like... I should. Like I have something to prove."

"To Jae-on?"

"To myself, I guess." The words came out slower than you expected, as if you were admitting it for the first time. "I thought I’d have it all by now, you know? The husband, the kids, the house with the white picket fence. And instead, I’m sitting here... single. Childless. Invited to my ex’s baby shower." You let out a humorless laugh. "It’s ridiculous."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, just watching you. His presence, as always, was steady, grounding. "It’s not ridiculous, Y/N. You had a plan. It just... didn’t go the way you thought."

You shook your head. "My plan’s been wrecked, Kook. Nothing’s gone the way I wanted it to."

"That doesn’t mean you can’t still have what you want," he said, his tone thoughtful. There was something about the way he said it, though, that made you glance at him, catching a glint of something unfamiliar in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated, like he was weighing his words carefully. "You want kids, right? You’ve always wanted to be a mom."

"Yeah... obviously." You frowned slightly. "But that’s not happening anytime soon."

"Why not?"

You blinked, unsure where this was going. "Because... I’m single? You kind of need someone to make that happen, Kook."

He shifted on the couch, leaning forward a little, his arm brushing against yours. The closeness felt... different. Warmer. He was looking at you in a way you couldn’t quite place, a softness to his gaze that made your stomach flip.

"You don’t need someone else," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You have me."

You froze, your mind trying to catch up to what he was saying. "Wait... what?"

Jungkook smiled, a small, almost shy smile, which was so unlike him it threw you off balance. "I’m serious. You want a baby, right? Why not do it together?"

You stared at him, your heart suddenly beating louder in your ears. "Together? Like... us?"

"Yeah." His eyes were steady, sincere. "We’ve known each other for years. We’d make great parents. We don’t need to complicate things with romance or any of that. We could just... raise a kid together. Be a family."

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. The idea was... insane. Wasn’t it? And yet, as he sat there, his expression so earnest, so serious, you found yourself... considering it.

"But, Kook," you started, your voice shaky, "this is huge. I mean... having a baby? That’s not something you just... do."

"I know," he said, his voice still soft, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you’re my best friend. I’d be with you every step of the way. You wouldn’t have to do it alone."

Your mind was spinning. This was Jungkook. Your best friend. The one person who had been there for you through everything, and now... he was offering you something you hadn’t even thought was possible. A way to have the family you wanted without waiting for someone else to come along.

But was it really that simple?

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the coffee table. You glanced down and saw the email notification. You already knew who it was from.

"Baby shower," you muttered, picking up the phone and showing him the screen. "Jae-on and Yu Garam are sending invites."

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly as he looked at the email, then back at you. "Well," he said, his voice lower now, "maybe when we go, we’ll have our own announcement to make."

You blinked, your heart jumping at the sudden shift in his tone. Was he... serious?

"You really mean that?" you whispered, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking.

But his expression was calm, sure, and when he spoke again, his voice was firm. "I’m dead serious, Y/N."

The air between you felt different now—heavier, charged with something you couldn’t quite name. This was Jungkook, your best friend. The person you trusted most in the world. And yet, here you were, teetering on the edge of something that could change everything.

"Think about it," he said softly, leaning just a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "It could be exactly what you need."

Taglist: @unoneed2know @lola75111 @ggukiescookies @junecat18 @futuristicenemychaos @pinkpunkdynamite @captainengineer-trixie @freshmoondragon @mar-lo-pap @whoa-jo @chimmisbae @ttanniett @jksusawife @knjjjk

[starskq]

I STILL HATE YOU / J.W

Pairing ◊ bratty!fem!reader x brattamer!wooyoung (ft. '99 line)

Genre ◊ SMUT, angst, ennemies to ???

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), reader is a brat, harddom!wooyoung, they hate each other, fingering, rough, degradation, petnames (good girl, sweetheart...), oral (fem receiving), lots of angst

Word count ◊ 4,6k

Summary ◊ : You and Wooyoung hated each other, but your friends thought it would be a good idea to lock wooyoung's room to "sort things out"

a/n: just a sucker for dom Wooyoung 😵‍💫 enjoy! (not proofread)

You were part of this tight-knit friend group with Wooyoung, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang. Usually, you would have considered yourself lucky to be surrounded by such a cool bunch of people, but there was one glaring exception: Wooyoung. From the moment you met, you and Wooyoung clashed like fire and ice. You were both cocky, always trying to outdo each other with snarky comments and sarcastic remarks.

It wasn’t even like you had any reason to hate each other; it just happened. Maybe it was how Wooyoung always seemed so smug, with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. Or maybe it was how he would always find some way to one-up you, no matter what. Either way, the tension between you two was almost palpable, and it was clear to everyone around.

The others in the group seemed to take it in stride. Yunho and San would roll their eyes and laugh it off, while Mingi would try to play peacemaker, often unsuccessfully. Yeosang, on the other hand, seemed to find your constant bickering somewhat amusing, though he rarely got involved. Despite the tension, the group managed to stick together, probably because your mutual animosity oddly balanced the dynamic.

One Friday night, you were all hanging out at their place, lounging on his beat-up couch, debating over what movie to watch. Wooyoung, as usual, had a different opinion from you. He wanted to watch some action flick while you were in the mood for a horror movie. The debate quickly turned into a full-blown argument, with you and Wooyoung standing face-to-face, jabbing at each other with pointed insults, as usual.

“Why don’t you just admit your taste in movies sucks?” Wooyoung sneered, crossing his arms.

“Oh please, like you even understand what makes a good movie,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Yunho sighed loudly, standing between you two. “Alright, can we just decide already? It’s just a movie.”

San laughed, shaking his head. “You two are hopeless. Can’t even pick a movie without turning it into World War Three.”

The argument over which movie to watch was reaching a boiling point, and everyone in the room could sense it. You and Wooyoung were standing toe-to-toe, practically shouting over each other.

“I’m telling you, action movies are way more entertaining,” Wooyoung argued, his voice filled with exasperation.

“And I’m telling you, horror movies have way better plots,” you shot back, not willing to back down.

Yunho exchanged a knowing glance with San and Mingi. They’d had enough of the constant bickering and had been joking for weeks about taking drastic measures to put an end to it.

“Alright, that’s it,” Yunho said suddenly, standing up. “I can’t take this anymore. We need a break from your constant fighting.”

Before you could react, Yunho grabbed you by the arm while San and Mingi grabbed Wooyoung. You struggled, demanding to be let go, but they were determined.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” you yelled, trying to shake off Yunho’s grip.

“Let go of me! I’m not done here!” Wooyoung protested, struggling against San and Mingi.

Yeosang, who had been quietly watching the whole scene unfold, opened Wooyoung’s bedroom door. “In you go,” he said calmly, stepping aside.

Yunho and San practically shoved you both into the room and quickly shut the door behind you. You heard the click of the lock, and the realization set in.

“Are you guys serious?” you shouted, pounding on the door. “This is so immature!”

“Yeah, open the door! We don’t need this!” Wooyoung added, equally furious.

From the other side of the door, Yunho’s voice came through, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You two need to sort this out. We’re not letting you out until you do.”

“You can’t be serious,” you groaned, leaning against the door in frustration.

“Oh, we’re very serious,” San replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re both our friends, and we’re tired of the constant fighting. So figure it out.”

Inside the room, you turned to face Wooyoung, who was glaring at you with just as much annoyance as you felt. You crossed your arms, refusing to be the first to speak.

“This is ridiculous,” Wooyoung muttered, pacing back and forth. “Like locking us in here is going to make us get along.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a jerk all the time, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” you retorted, not missing a beat.

Wooyoung stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Me? A jerk? You’re the one who’s always acting like you’re better than everyone else!”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I only act like that because you always have to be the center of attention!”

Outside, you could hear your friends laughing and chatting, clearly unconcerned about the drama unfolding inside the room.

“Can’t believe they did this,” you muttered under your breath.

“Same,” he replied, sitting down on his bed with a huff. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? How is this my fault?” you demanded, sitting down on the floor opposite him.

“You’re the one who always has to argue with me,” he said, gripping his hair in frustration. “You just can’t let anything go.”

“Because you’re always wrong!” you shot back, the argument feeling strangely familiar, yet different with no audience to play to.

You exchanged a heated glance with Wooyoung, who looked ready to explode. “This is all your fault,” he said, his voice low and accusing.

“My fault? You’ve got to be kidding me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, please,” Wooyoung sneered, getting up from the bed and stepping closer. “You’re the one who’s always picking fights.”

“Because you’re always so damn infuriating!” you retorted, matching his step forward until you were face to face.

The tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like something would snap. Instead, you both turned away with a huff, deciding that silence might be the best strategy. Maybe if you stopped engaging, your friends would see how pointless this was and let you out.

The silence stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable. You sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, while Wooyoung sat on the edge of it, staring at the wall. The minutes ticked by slowly, each second filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You could feel his presence, every movement and breath, making it impossible to fully relax.

After what felt like an eternity, the silence became too much to bear. You shifted, the slight noise breaking the uneasy peace. Wooyoung glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you snapped, unable to hold back.

“Nothing,” he muttered, looking away again.

The frustration boiled over. “You always do this,” you said, your voice rising. “Acting like you’re so much better than everyone else.”

Wooyoung’s head whipped around, his eyes flashing with anger. “Better than everyone else? You’re the one who’s always acting like you have something to prove!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly try to undermine me!” you shouted, standing up.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, standing up to face you. “You think you’re the only one who’s frustrated? You make everything so damn difficult!”

“Me? You’re the one who—”

The argument escalated quickly, voices rising, insults flying. The room seemed to shrink around you as the anger and frustration spilled over. You were both shouting now, words tumbling out without thought.

“You’re so arrogant!” you yelled, stepping closer to him.

“And you’re so damn stubborn!” Wooyoung shot back, closing the distance between you even more.

The space between you was electric, charged with anger and something else you couldn’t quite identify. The fight became more heated, the words more cutting.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “But you’re just a coward, hiding behind that smug attitude!”

Wooyoung’s eyes blazed with fury. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“Maybe because you never let anyone in!” you screamed, pushing him back. He stumbled slightly, then came back, his face inches from yours.

“Maybe because you never tried to understand!” he shouted, his breath hot on your face.

You felt a surge of anger and recklessness take over. “Why would I want to understand someone as pathetic as you?” you shot back, your words sharp and cutting.

Wooyoung’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Shut up,” he said, his voice low and filled with warning.

You met his gaze with a challenging look, the anger and adrenaline making you bold. “Make me,” you replied, your voice steady despite the wild beating of your heart.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then, before you could react, Wooyoung grabbed your shoulders and pulled you toward him, crashing his lips against yours in a rough, almost desperate kiss. The suddenness of it stole your breath, and for a split second, you were too stunned to respond.

But then you felt a surge of heat, a mix of anger and something much deeper. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands moving to tangle in his hair as you tried to pull him even closer. It was a battle, not a kiss—each of you trying to dominate, to claim the upper hand.

Wooyoung’s hands tightened on your shoulders, his grip almost bruising as he pushed you back against the wall. You gasped, but it only made the kiss more intense. Your hands slipped from his hair to his back, clutching at his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues and raw need. You could feel the anger in it, the frustration and the years of unspoken tension. But there was something else, too—a desperate desire, a need to finally break through the barriers you’d both put up.

You fought back, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him grunt. He responded by pressing you harder against the wall, his grip on your shoulders almost bruising. His lips moved against yours with a fierce intensity, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, demanding submission.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunted, your voice breathless but defiant.

Wooyoung growled, one hand moving to grip your jaw, tilting your head back forcefully. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he muttered against your lips before biting down harshly on your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you, almost drawing blood.

You retaliated by digging your nails into his back through his shirt, trying to assert some control. But Wooyoung was relentless. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, his body pressing against yours, leaving you no room to move.

“Pathetic,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re always so desperate to prove yourself.”

“Better than being a smug asshole,” you shot back, twisting in his grip but finding no escape.

Wooyoung’s laugh was dark and mocking. “You like this, don’t you? Being put in your place.” His free hand trailed down your side, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.

“Shut up,” you spat, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Make me,” he countered, echoing your earlier challenge. His lips found yours again, even rougher this time, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, dominating every movement.

You bit down on his tongue, earning a growl from him as he pulled back slightly, only to return with even more force. His kiss was punishing, each movement designed to remind you who was in control. You couldn’t help but respond, your body betraying you as you arched against him.

“You’re such a brat,” he hissed, his lips moving down to your neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. “Always trying to fight me, but you’re just as desperate for this as I am.”

‘’Fuck you,” you repeated, though the words lacked conviction as a moan escaped your lips.

“Admit it,” he demanded, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers digging into your skin. “Admit that you want this.”

“Never,” you gasped, tugging against his hold on your wrists.

He yanked your hands down, pinning them behind your back with one hand while his other hand slipped under your shirt, trailing down your stomach with rough, possessive movements.

“Let go of me,” you demanded, but your voice wavered, betraying your conflicting emotions.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Not until you learn to keep that mouth of yours shut.” His fingers found the waistband of your pants, slipping inside with a determined, almost punishing force.

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your core, the sensation both shocking and electrifying. “You’re such an ass,” you hissed, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Such a dirty little mouth,” he taunted, his fingers moving with a rough precision that made it impossible to think clearly. He found your clit quickly, starting to circle it roughly. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.’’

Before you could respond, his fingers pushed inside you, the intrusion rough and unyielding. You bit back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction, but it was impossible to ignore the intensity of his touch.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot and taunting. “You act all tough, but deep down, you’re just a needy little slut.”

“Shut up,” you managed to gasp, your body betraying you as you arched against his hand.

His fingers moved faster, rougher, each movement designed to break down your resistance. “Fuck. You’re so wet for me. Just admit it.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to give in. “I hate you,” you spat, though the words lacked conviction.

“Oh, I know you do,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But your body says otherwise.” He added another finger, stretching you, making you gasp. “Look at you, so desperate and needy. It’s pathetic.”

You wanted to retort, to throw another insult his way, but the sensation was overwhelming. His fingers moved with a brutal efficiency, hitting just the right spots to make you squirm. The anger and hatred mixed with the undeniable physical attraction, creating a storm of conflicting emotions.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. “Admit that you want this.”

“Never,” you gasped, though the word came out more like a moan.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, and he thrust his fingers harder, making you cry out despite yourself. “Say it,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I… I want it,” you finally admitted, the words torn from you unwillingly.

“Good girl,” he murmured, a mocking smile on his lips. “Was that so hard?” He continued his rough ministrations, his fingers moving in a relentless rhythm that left you trembling.

The words were degrading, but they pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed around his fingers, pleasure crashing through you in waves. You cried out, unable to hold back, your hands gripping his arms for support.

Wooyoung watched you with a satisfied smirk, his fingers continuing to move inside you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm. "That's it, sweetheart,’’ he murmured, his voice softening just a fraction.

You tried to catch your breath to regain some semblance of control, but Wooyoung was already kneeling in front of you, his hands roughly pushing your pants and underwear down to your ankles.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you stammered, though your body betrayed you with a shiver of anticipation.

“You think I’m done with you?” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks. “I’m going to show you what happens when you push me too far.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his tongue flicking against your clit with a precision that made your knees buckle. You gasped, one hand flying to his hair, the other bracing against the wall for support.

“Wooyoung, stop—” you started, but your words dissolved into a moan as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue working you over with relentless, rough strokes.

“You’re going to scream for me,” he muttered against you, his voice vibrating through your core. “Let your friends hear how much you need this.”

“Fuck—no,” you managed to gasp, though your voice wavered.

Wooyoung laughed, the sound dark and cruel. “We’ll see about that.” He intensified his movements, his tongue moving in ruthless circles while his fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, but it was no use. The combination of his rough touch and skilled tongue was too much. Your hips bucked against his mouth, and a cry slipped out before you could stop it.

“Louder,” he demanded, pulling back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “I want them to hear how much you love this.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, but the defiance was slipping away with every flick of his tongue.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe later,” he said, diving back in with renewed intensity. His tongue moved faster, harder, and you could feel the pressure building again, even more overwhelming than before.

Your resolve crumbled, and you let out a loud moan, unable to hold back. Wooyoung smirked against you, his satisfaction evident as he continued to push you closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he murmured between strokes. “Scream for me like the needy little slut you are.”

You tried to resist, to stay bratty and defiant, but it was impossible. The pleasure was too intense, his dominance too overwhelming. With a final, desperate cry, you came, your body trembling as the orgasm crashed over you.

He didn’t let up, his tongue working you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a shaking, gasping mess. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smirk on his face.

He stood up from his knees, his eyes dark with a mix of triumph and raw lust. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on you again, his hands rough as they grabbed your wrists and pulled you toward the desk beside you.

“You think we’re done?” he growled, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Not even close.”

You tried to muster some defiance, but the intensity of the situation left you breathless. “You’re such an asshole,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky.

“And you’re about to learn just how much of an asshole I can be,” he replied, pushing you forward so that your upper body was bent over the desk. His hands were on your hips.

Wooyoung didn’t waste any time. You heard the rustle of his clothes as he freed himself, and then you felt the blunt pressure of his cock against your entrance. He didn’t bother with gentleness; he thrust into you in one brutal motion, making you cry out.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising as he started to move, setting a punishing pace. “Bet you love being fucked like this, don’t you?”

You tried to hold onto some semblance of control, to maintain your defiance. “Go to hell,” you spat, though the words were weak, almost drowned out by the sounds of his relentless thrusts.

Wooyoung laughed, a dark, mocking sound. “Already there, sweetheart,” he replied, his hips snapping against yours with a brutal rhythm. “And you’re fucking coming with me.”

Each thrust was rough and demanding, pushing you closer to the edge with a ruthless efficiency. You could feel the desk digging into your skin, but the pleasure was overwhelming, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“Such a dirty little slut,” he murmured, leaning over you so that his breath was hot against your ear. “Can’t even form a proper sentence, can you?”

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a broken moan. Wooyoung’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, a coil tightening inside you. Wooyoung felt your tight walls pulsing around his cock. 

“You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you?” he taunted, his voice low and rough. “Say it.”

“I—” you gasped, trying to fight the pleasure, but it was useless. “I’m going to—”

“That’s right,” he cut you off, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “Come for me, you filthy brat.”

The words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a loud cry, your body trembling as the orgasm ripped through you. Wooyoung didn’t let up, his thrusts relentless as he chased his own release.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice filled with contempt and desire. “So desperate and needy. Pathetic.”

He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. Before you could process the loss, he was moving you again, his hands rough as he pushed you toward the bed. You stumbled, falling onto the mattress, and he was on you in an instant, flipping you onto your back.

“Think you can handle more?” he asked, his eyes dark and challenging.

You nodded, too breathless to speak, your body already craving the next wave of pleasure.

“Good,” he said, positioning himself between your legs. 

He entered you again, the angle different but no less brutal. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge once more. He took your thigh and pressed it against your chest, thrusting deeper. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his grip on your thigh hard enough to leave marks. “Such a perfect little slut for me.”

The pleasure was overwhelming, turning your mind into a hazy blur. You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, as he fucked you with a relentless intensity, pouring all the rage from earlier into it. 

“Can’t even talk, can you?” he mocked, his voice filled with cruel amusement. “Too dumb from getting fucked by my cock.”

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a series of incoherent moans. Wooyoung’s thrusts grew even more forceful, and you felt the pressure building again, another orgasm threatening to crash over you.

“You’re going to come again,” he said, his tone commanding. “And you’re going to scream my name when you do.”

You shook your head, trying to hold onto some shred of defiance, but it was useless. The pleasure was too much, too overwhelming. With a final, brutal thrust, you came, your body arching off the bed as the orgasm tore through you, as you screamed his name. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. He continued to move, his pace never faltering, pushing you through the aftershocks and into another wave of pleasure.

By the time he finally came, his release hot and overwhelming inside you, you were a trembling, incoherent mess. He pulled out slowly, leaving you breathless and spent on the bed.

“See?” he said, his voice filled with mocking satisfaction. “All you needed was to be put in your place.”

You glared at him weakly, the fire of your anger not completely extinguished despite the overwhelming pleasure. “I still hate you,” you managed to say, though your voice was weak, more breathless.

“And I still hate you too,” he replied, his expression hard. “But at least now you know what happens when you push me too far.”

The room was filled with the tension of your unresolved hatred, the physical release doing nothing to ease the animosity between you. As you lay there, trying to catch your breath and regain some sense of composure, one thing was clear: the war between you and Wooyoung was far from over, but for now, you had been thoroughly defeated.

————————

Outside Wooyoung’s room, Yunho, San, Mingi, and Yeosang were still gathered, exchanging knowing glances and quiet laughter as they waited for the inevitable explosion of another argument. However, when the first loud moan echoed through the door, their expressions changed from amusement to shock.

“Did you just hear that?” San asked, eyes wide, looking at the others for confirmation.

“Yeah, I definitely heard something,” Yunho replied, raising an eyebrow. “That didn’t sound like an argument.”

Mingi covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “I think they’re… uh… working things out in a different way.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened as another, louder moan filtered through the door, followed by a string of incoherent words. “Oh my god, they’re really going at it,” he said, looking both amused and slightly horrified.

Yunho shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, this is unexpected.”

San smirked, nudging Yunho. “Guess our plan worked a little too well.”

Mingi couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Should we just… leave them to it?”

Yeosang nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I don’t think they need an audience for this.”

Yunho stood up, clapping his hands together. “Alright, everyone. Let’s give them some privacy. I think they’ve got enough to handle without us hanging around.”

San stretched, yawning dramatically. “Yeah, I could use a break from all the drama anyway.”

As they gathered their things, another particularly loud moan resonated through the door, making them all wince and then burst into laughter.

“Okay, that’s our cue to leave,” Mingi said, heading towards the front door.

“Maybe we should go get some ice cream or something,” Yeosang suggested. “Give them plenty of time to… sort things out.”

Yunho nodded, opening the door. “Good idea. I think we all need a break from this craziness.”

As they left the house, the moans and muffled sounds of pleasure faded into the background, replaced by the summer evening's quiet hum.

“You know, I always thought they’d kill each other before anything like this happened,” San said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Guess there’s a fine line between love and hate,” Yunho chuckled.

“Or in their case, a very loud, very thin line,” Mingi added, laughing.

As they headed down the street, leaving Wooyoung and you to your privacy, the group couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. It seemed that locking you two up together had definitely brought some unexpected results.

[luvashli]

MORE THEN FRIENDS

Synopsis -> Heeseung has always been your best friend—but lately, the lingering touches and stolen glances feel different. Maybe he’s been waiting for you to realize he’s meant to be more.

Pairing -> best!friend!heeseung x fem!reader

Genre -> oneshot, best friends to lovers, suggestive

Status -> complete

Wc -> 3.4k

Note -> requestet by this ask :) hope you enjoy

The first time you met Heeseung, he was the quiet new kid in your fourth-grade class, staring down at his desk while nervously tapping his pencil. You had been assigned as his seat partner, and while the rest of the class chattered around him, he stayed silent.

Ever the curious one, you nudged his arm with your elbow. “Wanna trade snacks?” you asked, holding up your peanut butter sandwich.

Heeseung hesitated, his eyes flickering up to meet yours for the first time. Then, without a word, he slid his pack of strawberry Pocky across the desk. You grinned, breaking your sandwich in half and handing it to him.

And just like that, you were inseparable.

___

Middle school was a blur of shared lunch trays, inside jokes, and whispered secrets. Heeseung wasn’t as shy anymore—not with you, at least. He still liked to keep to himself, but you were the exception to that rule.

You balanced each other out. Where you were loud and impulsive, he was calm and thoughtful. Where you rushed headfirst into things, he held back and thought things through.

When the other kids teased you for being “too much,” Heeseung was always there, rolling his eyes and telling you they were just jealous. And when Heeseung got called a nerd for acing every math test, you sat beside him at lunch and loudly declared that smart people were hot anyway.

Back then, everything was simple. Heeseung was your best friend, and you were his. No questions asked. No complicated feelings.

But then came high school. And suddenly, things weren’t so simple anymore.

___

Heeseung had always thought you were pretty. Even back in middle school, when you still had braces and a habit of tripping over your own feet, he knew there was something about you that pulled people in—pulled him in. But he never really understood what that feeling meant until sophomore year.

It happened at a school dance, of all places. You had dragged him there, even though he insisted he hated school events. You’d rolled your eyes and called him a grandpa, saying, “Come on, Hee, what’s the worst that could happen?”

The worst, apparently, was watching you slow dance with someone else.

He hadn’t realized he was gripping his soda can so tightly until Jake nudged him. “Dude, you look like you wanna kill someone.”

Heeseung forced a laugh. “What? No. I just…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on you—on the way you laughed at something your dance partner said, on the way they spun you around like you were weightless. And that’s when it hit him.

He was in love with you.

It was a terrifying realization, one that made his stomach twist into knots. Because the moment he understood his feelings, he also understood something else—you didn’t feel the same way.

After that night, Heeseung tried to ignore his feelings. He told himself it was just a phase, just a stupid crush that would go away if he stopped thinking about it.

He dated other girls. Not many, but enough to convince himself he was over you. But it never worked, because every time something good happened, you were the first person he wanted to tell. And every time something bad happened, you were the only person who could make it better.

So, he buried his feelings. He smiled when you talked about your latest crushes, pretended it didn’t sting when you called him your platonic soulmate, and kept being the best friend you needed him to be.

Because loving you was easy. It was having you that was impossible.

___

Now, standing on the edge of adulthood, you still saw Heeseung as your constant, your safe place. But Heeseung? He had spent years pretending not to love you.

And he was starting to wonder how much longer he could keep up the act.

If someone had told Heeseung years ago that he’d still be hopelessly in love with you, he would’ve laughed it off. He had convinced himself—or at least tried to—that his feelings would fade with time. That someday, he’d wake up and you’d just be his best friend again, nothing more.

But here he was, sitting across from you in your favorite café, watching as you stirred sugar into your coffee with that same absentminded concentration you always had, and he knew—he had never stopped loving you.

“You’re staring,” you teased, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Heeseung scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “No, I’m not.”

“You totally are.” You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Heeseung wanted to tell you the truth—that you had his whole heart on your face, that he couldn’t look at you without wanting to memorize every little detail. But instead, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you have ‘annoying’ written all over it.”

You gasped dramatically. “Wow. Is this how you treat your best friend? Unbelievable.”

There it was. That word. Best friend.

Heeseung swallowed down the bitter taste that always followed when you said that. He knew it wasn’t your fault—you had no idea how he felt. How could you? He had spent years making sure you didn’t.

But lately, it was getting harder to pretend. Harder to keep smiling when you told him about your latest date, harder to act normal when you rested your head on his shoulder like it was the most casual thing in the world. Because to you, it was casual. But to Heeseung, every touch, every laugh, every moment with you felt like something he wasn’t allowed to have.

And it was slowly driving him insane.

“Hello? Earth to Heeseung?” Your voice cut through his thoughts, and he realized you were waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, what?” He blinked.

“I was saying, do you wanna come over tonight? Movie night, just like old times.” You smiled, eyes bright with excitement.

It was an innocent offer. Just another normal night in your friendship. But to Heeseung, it was another reminder of how much he wanted but could never have.

Still, he nodded, forcing a grin. “Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Because no matter how much it hurt, being close to you—even as just a friend—was better than not having you at all.

___

Movie nights with Heeseung were nothing new. They had been a tradition since high school—just the two of you, a ridiculous amount of snacks, and an unspoken rule that you had to rewatch at least one childhood favorite before the night was over.

But tonight felt… different.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the way Heeseung seemed quieter than usual, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long when he thought you weren’t looking. Or maybe it was the way your heart kept skipping beats whenever his knee brushed against yours on the couch.

You shook the thought away, grabbing a handful of popcorn. It’s just Heeseung. Your best friend. Stop being weird.

“What do you wanna watch?” you asked, flipping through the streaming options.

Heeseung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “You pick.”

“You always say that.”

“And yet, you always pick something terrible.” He smirked, reaching over to steal some of your popcorn.

You gasped, smacking his hand away. “Excuse you! I have excellent taste.”

He snorted. “Sure, if excellent taste means forcing me to sit through three-hour-long romance movies where nothing happens except people staring at each other.”

“You like those movies, don’t lie.”

“I like suffering through them for you—big difference,” he muttered under his breath.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest spread just a little. Heeseung always did that—acted like he was just tolerating the things you loved, when in reality, he indulged you more than anyone ever had.

You ended up picking a random movie, something lighthearted, but halfway through, you barely paid attention. Your focus kept drifting to Heeseung—his stupidly perfect side profile, the way his lips parted slightly when he was concentrating, the little crease in his brow when something in the movie confused him.

It wasn’t like you had never noticed before. You had eyes, after all. But tonight, it was like your brain refused to brush it off as nothing.

You shifted slightly, only to realize just how close the two of you were sitting. At some point, Heeseung had draped his arm across the back of the couch, and without thinking, you had leaned into his side. It wasn’t unusual. You’d done this a hundred times before.

So why did it feel like your whole body was hyper-aware of him?

A scene in the movie made you laugh, and without thinking, you turned to share the moment with him—only to find him already looking at you.

Your breath hitched.

He didn’t look away.

For a second, neither of you moved. The only sound in the room was the muffled dialogue from the movie, but everything else faded into the background. His gaze flickered down—to your lips, just for a split second—before returning to your eyes.

And suddenly, you knew.

You knew what had been different about tonight. You knew why your heart was racing, why his touches felt electric, why the way he looked at you sent heat rushing through your veins.

Because for the first time, you were seeing Heeseung in a way you had never let yourself before.

And maybe—just maybe—you were falling for your best friend.

Your heart pounded as you stared at Heeseung, the glow of the TV flickering against his face. He wasn’t looking away.

He always looked at you—watching, waiting, as if he had something to say but never quite found the words. But tonight, for the first time, you weren’t oblivious to it. You weren’t brushing off the way his eyes lingered, the way his fingers twitched against his thigh like he wanted to reach for you but held himself back.

And maybe, for the first time, you didn’t want him to hold back.

You swallowed, trying to play it off. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Heeseung’s jaw clenched slightly, and his voice came out lower than usual. "You’re the one staring first."

You weren’t. Or maybe you were. It didn’t matter.

The tension between you felt thick, heavy, like a rubber band stretched too tight, on the verge of snapping.

And then it did.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, Heeseung’s lips were on yours, crashing into you like he had been waiting for this moment forever. Maybe he had. Maybe you had, too, without realizing it.

A small gasp left your lips, but Heeseung didn’t hesitate—his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him like you had been made to fit there.

The movie long forgotten, the only sound in the room was the ragged breathing between kisses, the quiet sighs you couldn’t hold back as Heeseung deepened the kiss. His hands roamed—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your thigh as he pulled you onto his lap.

You should’ve felt nervous. This was Heeseung, your best friend. The one who had always been by your side, the one you told everything to. But right now, nothing about this felt wrong. If anything, it felt like something that had been waiting to happen.

His lips trailed down, grazing the corner of your jaw, your neck—hot and unhurried, like he wanted to take his time memorizing every inch of you.

"Hee," you breathed, hands tangling in his hair.

His grip on you tightened, and a low groan rumbled from his chest, sending shivers down your spine. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he murmured against your skin.

The confession made your stomach flip. Because if he had wanted this for a long time… why did it take you so long to see it?

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. They were darker than usual, filled with something raw, something unspoken.

"Why didn’t you ever say anything?" you whispered.

Heeseung exhaled a shaky breath, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "Because I was scared you’d never look at me the way I look at you."

Your heart clenched. How had you been so blind?

You cupped his face, your thumb tracing over his cheekbone. "I’m looking at you now."

And then, you kissed him again—slow, deep, like you were making up for all the lost time.

This wasn’t just a kiss. It was years of unsaid words, years of stolen glances, years of Heeseung loving you in silence.

And finally, finally, you were listening.

Heeseung’s lips moved against yours like he had been waiting forever—slow at first, savoring every second, but growing more desperate with each passing moment. His fingers dug into your waist as if he was afraid you might slip away, but there was no chance of that happening. Not anymore.

You were completely, hopelessly lost in him.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and Heeseung let out a quiet groan against your lips. The sound sent heat rushing through you, making your whole body feel like it was on fire.

He pulled you even closer—if that was even possible—until there was no space left between you. His hands roamed, one gripping your thigh, the other sliding up your back, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

When he kissed you again, it was different—deeper, rougher, like he had finally let go of whatever restraint he’d been holding onto.

And you wanted more.

You shifted slightly in his lap, your fingers tracing down his jaw, his neck, the sharp lines of his collarbone. Heeseung sucked in a sharp breath, his hands tightening around you.

"Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost pleading.

It sent a shiver down your spine. You had never heard him sound like that before.

You leaned in, lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. "What is it?" you teased softly, barely above a whisper.

Heeseung let out a shaky laugh, tilting his head back against the couch. "You’re actually going to kill me."

You grinned, feeling a rush of confidence. "Oh? Am I?"

His hands squeezed your hips, grounding himself. "You have no idea."

The air between you was thick, charged with something neither of you had dared to acknowledge before tonight. But now that the line had been crossed, there was no going back.

You stared at him—his swollen lips, the way his chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing. Heeseung had always been beautiful, but right now? Right now, he looked absolutely wrecked.

Because of you.

Something about that realization made your heart pound even harder.

Slowly, you traced your fingers over his jaw, your touch featherlight. "Then maybe you should do something about it," you murmured.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened.

And in the next second, he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a smirk that sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for," he murmured, his voice lower now, sending shivers down your spine.

You bit your lip, fingers tangling in the fabric of his hoodie. "Show me."

Heeseung groaned softly before capturing your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as he deepened the kiss.

And this time, neither of you held back.

___

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was warmth.

You were tangled in Heeseung—his arm draped over your waist, his face buried in your hair, his steady breathing fanning across your skin. The soft glow of early morning filtered through your curtains, casting everything in golden light.

And then it hit you.

Last night. The kisses, the way he touched you like he had been waiting forever, the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that had ever mattered.

Your heart clenched.

What happens now?

You shifted slightly, and Heeseung groaned in protest, tightening his hold on you.

“Mm, don’t move,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at how soft he sounded. “Heeseung, we have to get up.”

“No, we don’t.” He buried his face deeper into your neck, his lips brushing against your skin. “Five more minutes.”

You hesitated, staring at the ceiling. What were you supposed to say? Did last night change everything? Were you still just… friends? Did he regret it?

Heeseung must’ve felt the tension in your body because he finally lifted his head, his eyes barely open, but still filled with something softer when they met yours.

“You’re overthinking,” he murmured.

You swallowed. “I just… what does this mean?”

Heeseung blinked at you sleepily before a small smirk played at his lips. “You want me to confess again, don’t you?”

Your face heated. “That’s not—”

He cut you off by leaning in, brushing a slow, lazy kiss against your lips. It was barely a kiss at all, just a soft press of his mouth against yours, but it made your whole body melt.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered. “I think I always have.”

Your breath hitched.

It was one thing to realize your feelings, to feel them creeping up on you like a slow-burning flame. But hearing him say it—knowing that he had felt this way for so long—made your chest ache.

“I…” You hesitated, but only for a second. Because deep down, you already knew the answer.

You cupped his face, running your thumb along his cheek. “I love you too, Hee.”

Heeseung let out a small, relieved laugh before kissing you again—slow and sweet, like he was savoring every second.

And this time, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing.

Just you and him, exactly where you were always meant to be.

Heeseung kissed you again, slow and deliberate, as if making sure you weren’t just a dream. His hands rested gently on your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against your skin, grounding himself in the moment.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice still thick with sleep.

You smiled, fingers brushing through his messy hair. “Waking up late?”

“No.” He pressed another lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Waking up with you.”

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you.” His smirk was lazy, teasing, but his eyes held nothing but warmth.

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was—you liked this side of him. The Heeseung who was completely unfiltered, who didn’t hold back anymore. And maybe, deep down, you always had.

A comfortable silence settled between you as Heeseung shifted, pulling you impossibly closer until your head was resting against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong, and the warmth of his skin against yours made you wish you could stay here forever.

But reality was waiting.

Eventually, you sighed. “We really should get up.”

“No, we really shouldn’t.”

“Heeseung.”

“Y/N.” He mimicked your tone, grinning when you shot him a glare.

You tried to move, but he tightened his arms around you, effortlessly keeping you trapped against him. “Nope,” he said, voice muffled as he buried his face in your shoulder. “You’re staying right here.”

You huffed, but your resolve was crumbling. He was too warm. Too comfortable. And if you were being honest… you didn’t really want to move either.

“Fine,” you relented, nuzzling closer. “But only for five more minutes.”

Heeseung chuckled, his lips brushing against your temple. “You say that now.”

And, of course, five minutes turned into ten.

Then twenty.

And before you knew it, the two of you were still tangled together, lost in quiet laughter, whispered confessions, and soft, lingering touches.

Because for the first time, there was no rush. No reason to pretend.

For the first time, you weren’t just best friends anymore.

You were his. And he was yours.

Masterlist

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[jaysbaefie]

simone says | sjy

synopsis: in which your highschool rival agrees to tutor you, on one condition.

genre: high-school rivals to lovers ?

pairing: high-school rival! jake x afab reader

warnings: dubcon (ish), dom!jake, bratty!reader, reader calls jake a 'twink' on multiple occasions, jake reads hentai, mentions of blackmail? restraining with a belt, light degrading, spanking, grinding, reader grinds on jake's shoe, lowkey manhandling, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), public sex, praising, hair pulling, p in v, orgasm denial - i think that's it..

wc: 9.6k+

a/n: this is my first fic on tumbler, so if something seems wonky i apologize i’m not familiar with posting on this platform. feel free to leave tips on how to post on this site because i struggled heavy…

──── ୨୧ ────

the look of disappointment plastered on your professors face made you wince.

"i'm sorry __ , but if you don't boost your grades then i have no choice but to demote you from debate team captain and take you out of your advance learning classes," he said apologetically.

you wanted to do nothing but to scream in his old, wrinkly and saggy face, this was so embarrassing.

you internally scold yourself for thinking this way of your professor, the man was nothing but kind to you these past few months given your terrible attendance and poor marks.

you had never come home with less than a 95% in your classes. nowadays, your happy with a shitty 60%.

you don't know what's wrong with you, your unable to focus on your studies and instead spend time ditching classes and attending parties. you had promised yourself that no matter where your friends had dragged you. you would make your education a priority, but as expected, that wasn't the case.

senior year of high school meant a lot of behavioural and social changes within both you and your friends, the shy and nerdy girls you once hung out with had done a complete 360 switch. the hangouts that once consisted of going to cute cafes and studying, ice skating, arcades and movie nights had quickly switched to getting drunk every other night and doing any possible substance that they could get their hands on.

you missed the days where the four of you wouldn't get black out drunk and fake sobriety to your knowing parents. you didn't particularly enjoy the party life that your friends were living, but you didn't hate it, and you surely wouldn't be missing out on it. yes, your studies should come first, but your a senior in high school only once in your life. which is what your friends repeated every time you rejected a party. so that's what you lived by, your only a senior in highschool once.

unfortunately, that same logic costed you your above average grades and perfect attendance record. you had to fix this, and you were willing to fix this mess in any way possible. even if it meant dropping to your knees for your professor.

you give the old man a once over, shivering and internally rejected that as a possibility.

"i'd rather fail and live at home for the rest of my life," you think to yourself, your body convulsing at the idea.

swallowing harshly you ask, "is there anything i could do to boost my grades?".

he looks at you with sympathy, leaning back in his chair as he thinks for a moment. "the only thing i could do to help you with your grades is to be present and help answer any questions you have. i could stay some time after class and help you with some homework but that's about it __, i'm sorry," he sighs.

asking questions with homework wasn't going to change your 57% into a 95 in 2 months. you needed to completely re-learn the material and start from the beginning. you didn't have notes and you didn't have a clue of what was going on in the class. none of your friends were in your classes, none of your friends were as smart as you.

unfortunately for you, you hadn't bothered to even make any friends in your advanced learning classes. you couldn't just go up to someone in your class and ask them for their notes, you were stumped.

"do you think you could set me up with a tutor? i know i'm asking for a lot right now but i want to switch this around," you beg softly, your hands clutched together. your professor knew how much potential you had, you had created a good reputation for yourself after all. you were the debate team captain, although you had been missing more and more meetings recently. you had one of the highest marks in your grade, often ranking first place in exams. you had never gotten into any altercations, a squeaky clean student record. lots of volunteer hours and good recommendations from professors that would guarantee you a spot in the most prestigious of universities.

your professor thinks for a moment, his bushy eyebrows furrowing as he debates internally. "i could set you up with one, but i'm not sure he'll agree to helping you this late in the semester," he replies wincing. "or at all..," he continues but your ears miss it.

a smile instantly makes its way onto your face, there's hope for you. you were sure that whoever this person was they would agree to helping you. you were nice to everyone, always respectful and helpful to your peers.

who would say no to you?

"he's one of my best students, following you of course," the professor continues, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he takes his thin glasses off his face. he gulps softly, knowing that suggesting this student to you and vice versa wasn't the best idea.

you on the other hand, begin to think of all the smart students you know of in your grade.

yang jungwon?

park sunghoon?

kim sunoo?

mentally trashing all of the candidates that you deemed dumb.

your professor interrupts your internal dialogue, "you're going to have to talk to him and come up with something that works for the both of you, that is if he agrees," he says.

"but i will send him an email, warning him that you'll be in touch with him soon," he adds on tensely.

you simply hum in response, happy with the outcome of the conversation even though it may not work out for you at the end. one thing about you was that you were confident, and you knew that a little persuading would get you far in life. you got along with all your peers, unfortunately not enough to ask for notes or help but enough to pass soft smiles in the hallways or a gentle nod of acknowledgment. you stayed in your circle of friends, rarely hanging out with other classmates unless a project or school assignment was involved.

with no questions asked you thank your professor profusely, your smile reaching your eyes.

your professor on the other hand looked at you nervously, letting out a tense laugh as he tells you to head to your next class. you hadn't asked who would be your tutor, and your professor was grateful. he didn't want to deal with your reaction and preferred to stay out of it but he knew he would hear from you soon and he'd rather deal with it later than now.

"now, head to class the bell will be ringing soon," he ushers. you smile and thank him once again before practically skipping out of your classroom.

your professor watches you leave, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips before he opens his computer. his mouse clicking on the schools mailing app, before punching in the letters of the students email.

he wrote a simple message informing him, no— warning, that's the word, warning him that you'd be in touch with him soon.

he sends the email and immediately signs off, hoping for the best. his two star students couldn't be fighting anymore, and if he had to play cupid then he'd play cupid, even if it was extremely inappropriate and unprofessional.

he could only hope for the best.

──── ୨୧ ────

you walk alongside your friends, your shoulder casually brushing against yoora's as the four of you head to the lunch hall.

"so you're really taking this grade thing seriously, huh?" jiya asks, her brows arching as she looks at you with a soft smirk.

you roll your eyes, "someone has to," you reply.

"who else is going to make a lot of money so they could keep up with their friends luxurious life style," you playfully snide. the reason your grades meant so much to you was solely because you didn't come from a privileged and wealthy background. to you, good grades meant a good education which leads to a good job and a stable source of income for both you and your family. this wasn't a choice for you, yet you had been treating it as if it was one and now your dealing with the consequences.

your friends came from wealthy backgrounds, grades weren't that important to them because they knew that no matter what their gpa was they'd have something to lean back on. whether it be inheriting a business or their parents providing pocket money till their last breath.

jiya's expression softens slightly, her manicured fingers brushing against your arm, "we're sorry for distracting you, __."

"we didn't realize how much this was affecting your grades," she continues. the others nod in agreement as they mumble soft apologies.

you were greatful for their understanding, they were aware of your financial situation but often forgot. it wasn't something you liked to bring up often, the looks of pity on their faces making you want to shrivel up and die.

there would be times where they'd offer to pay for your meals, clothes and even tuition because they thought it would help lessen your financial burdens, but instead it made you feel embarrassed and angry. you didn't want the pity so you rarely brought it up. this was your motivation to make money and step out of the hole that finances had made for you.

"we won't pressure you into going to parties with us anymore," hana says before quickly continuing, "but that doesn't mean that you can say no every time. you still have to go out with us, but we understand that right now your education is your priority."

you smile in response.

"so, who's your little tutor?" hana asks, flipping her dyed blonde locks over her shoulder as she searches her purse for her wallet.

the four of you had entered the lunch hall, your eyes scanning for a table as you begin to walk to the lunch line.

you shrug at her question, "no clue, i forgot to ask. but probably some nerd."

yoora laughs, "fellow nerd," she corrects with a teasing smile, bumping shoulders with you as you stand in line.

you roll your eyes playfully, "bitch."

"i just hope it's not a creep, like min youngjae," you shiver at the thought. min youngjae was a perv, sure he was smart and often ranked high in exam scores like yourself, but he was a total creep. he had been caught peering into the girls change room last year and hasn't been able to live it down since.

your friends giggle, "carry pepper spray on you if it happens to be him, heard he had the hots for you too.." jiya snickers handing the lunch lady some cash before picking up her tray.

you shiver, "i'm carrying mace if i'm paired with him," you mutter as you follow jiya with a tray of your own.

spotting a table the four of you beeline for it, the lunch hall started to fill up and spots to sit had become scarce.

sitting down the four of you ease into small talk which then becomes gossip. giggling amongst yourselves you don't notice a certain pair of eyes on you, watching your every move.

if looks could kill, you'd be buried 6 feet under by now.

a soft nudge makes you stop laughing, yoora smirking as she raises her eyebrows. she motions to the side of you with her head, you furrow your eyebrows, confused to what was going on.

turning your head your eyes are instantly met with the one person who you had issues with in this entire school.

co-captain of the debate team, soccer team captain, and your worst enemy—sim jaeyun.

you almost gag when he smirks at you. his stupid plump lips curling into a grin when he's sees your expression before his beautiful—no hideous face morphs into one of mock concern. your surprised when he gets up from his spot and starts to make his way to your table.

his lean yet muscular legs flexing with each step he took, he was still wearing his soccer shorts that he had been wearing during practice with a thin white t-shirt that outlined the shape of his torso when the lunch halls light hit him in a specific way. his hair was slightly damp with sweat from practice, he runs his large hands through his dark locks before he reaches your table and his crotch is in level with your face. you make a face of displeasure before you shift away slightly, trying to avoid starring at his dick.

"fuck do you want sim?" you sneer, holding in the urge to punch him in the throat when his grin widens.

how you wanted to punch his shit-eating grin, his perfectly straight teeth would fall out of his big mouth.

"what do i want? hm, a lot of attitude for someone who needs my help," he mocks playfully as he bends down so he's eye level with you.

your face twists into one of confusion, help?

"what are you talking about dickwad? i don't need your help," you spit, your cheeks heating up when you catch a whiff of his cologne. you mentally beat yourself for letting someone like him fluster you.

"oh really? so mr.kim didn't send me an email asking me to tutor his 'star student' ?" he pouts mockingly.

your eyes widen and your mouth parts in shock.

mr.kim you are so fucking dead.

jake watches your face twist into one of shock, enjoying your attitude fizzle as you stumble for words.

your mouth opens and closes like a fish on land, racking your brain for a snarky comeback, but to your luck your mind was blank.

he stares at your expression, he could see a million thoughts behind your eyes and it only boosted his confidence. he was the reason your bratty mouth was unable to form words to shoot back at him. the same mouth that would spew insults at him whenever he dared to even speak in your presence was now shut because of him.

he was eager to shoot you down when he had originally walked to your table, ready to reject tutoring you and make fun of you for being so dumb and careless of your studies. he had noticed what you had become recently, the seemingly hardworking and shy girl you once were around others, not him of course, had become an avid partier who didn't care about her academics and future anymore. however, now he had different plans, he knew how much you needed him and he'd use it to his advantage. what's wrong with a little fun? right?

jake stands up straight, "meet me in classroom 103 tomorrow afternoon lunch, don't be late pretty," jake coos playfully with a chuckle escaping his pink lips.

your internal debate ends instantly at his words, your face dropping as you begin to process his words. he wants to tutor you? pretty? confused you look at him and begin to open your mouth only to see that he has turned away and began walking back to his table.

his friends looking at him and you both confused and amused at the interaction.

what the fuck just happened?

──── ୨୧ ────

sim jaeyun has always been that cockroach that just won't die. no matter how many times you hit it with your shoe, or the rounds of bug spray you spray on its disgusting body, it survives.

first day of 8th grade and you two were already fighting over the dumbest things. the two of you shared a mutual friend, kim sunoo, and you wanted to sit next to him for math. little did you know, jake had similar intentions which resulted in a full blown argument between the two of you on why either of you should sit next to sunoo.

at the end, neither of you got to sit next to him.

then came budging in line, to you the fight between who gets to sit next to sunoo was your last interaction with jake. however, jake had other plans.

he would purposely budge in front of you in line and when you made a move to confront him he'd act like you simply didn't exist.

you realized quickly that he thrived off of your reactions and stopped giving him the satisfaction of getting angry at him.

grade 8 science class is where the two of you had begun to get competitive for grades.

"hey, what'd you get on your quiz __?" your seat mate whispered to you while holding onto his own quiz, hiding the grade from your greedy eyes.

biting back a grin you show him your test results, "a 93%" you whisper back. you were so proud of yourself, you studied hard for that mark and you were going to tell anyone who asked what you got.

you heard a snicker come from the back and you immediately knew who it was. you whip your head around to shoot the boy a piercing glare.

"93? that's it? i got a 96," jake brags with a smirk.

you could feel your cheeks redden with rage as you flip him off and turn back in your desk.

fuck that twink and his 96%, i'll show him.

and you did show him, next quiz you got a 100% and you made sure jake saw it.

"awe, a 94. how cute jakey," you mocked with a pout. you had left your quiz on his desk while he was in the washroom, making sure he saw it when he returned.

jake's fists were clenched and he could feel himself bubble up with embarrassment when he saw your perfect score. he rolls his eyes and chooses to not respond, which only fed your ego.

the cycle continues for years, and with your luck you shared almost all of your classes with jake. the two of you were some of the smartest kids in your grade and shared the same advanced learning classes, with the exception of extracurriculars. the competition between you two never ended and neither did the unusual tension.

when you became debate team captain jake was furious, he worked equally as hard for that position but he was made co-captain for his efforts instead of the real deal. he never complained publicly though, instead he tried to outshine you during weekly meetings. being extra nice to the members and trying to come up with better ideas and solutions to make you look bad.

you're still captain, so clearly he's not doing a good enough job.

you tried to avoid jake when you could, you saw him as competition and an enemy, that's it. well, that's what you tried to convince yourself. there was an undeniable attraction that you felt towards jake, and it made you want to kill yourself. fortunately for you, you were able to look past it and come to terms that you found him attractive and justify that his personality made him ugly.

however, jake didn't try to avoid you back. instead he seemed to 'run into you' and random times and ruin your day. at one point you were convinced that he was following you because of how often he would be at the same place at the same time as you.

many of your friends and fellow classmates thought of you and jake as an elderly couple that bickered amongst each other. the thought of dating jake alone made you gag and you tried to shut down their theories of sexual tension between the two of you right away. that however, didn't work and the theories continue.

"i swear, you two just need to fuck," jiya sighed as she slumps against her pillows.

all four of you had decided to go to jiya's house after school, it had been so long since you all had  hung out like a normal group of teens.

you choke on your drink, "fucks no," you look at her with wide eyes, shocked she would even say that.

jiya grins, she props herself up on her elbow to stare at you, "you know you feel the tension, because i sure as hell do. so do yoora and hana, hell, everyone at school does," she exclaims frustratedly, mad that her friend won't just take her advice.

you roll your eyes, "the only tension i feel that he's involved in is scoring higher than him academically, which i've been failing at recently," you respond with a groan.

finals were only 2 months away and if you wanted to pass with flying colours you needed to take up jake's offer.

"what if he's agreeing to tutor you because he wants to sabotage you," hana theorizes, gasping at her idea as she stares at you with her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised.

"i don't think he's the type to sabotage, he likes the competition and he likes to win fair and square from what i've seen," interjects yoora.

she had a point, jake had never played dirty. sure he was a dick, but he never tried to sabotage you. you were away for a week once due to a cold and jake had willingly given you his notes for that weeks lectures.

that only makes you wonder..

what is that twink up to?

you were confused by the entire interaction that took place in the lunch hall earlier, it wasn't odd for jake to be in your personal space, he did that a lot. however, the 'pretty' he added to the end of his sentence was what was throwing you off. jake had described you in a multitude of ways, ugly, witch, hag, dumbass, toad, and the list continues. but never has he called you something positive, let alone pretty.

"i don't know what his game plan is, but the only way i'm going to find out is by going to classroom 103 tomorrow."

──── ୨୧ ────

and that's how you find yourself outside classroom 103, your hands clutching the straps of your backpack as your nervously open the door.

you peer up making there wasn't a bucket full of liquid perched at the top that would fall onto you when you open the door fully. seeing that nothing was there you open the door and walk inside, seeing jake by the whiteboard at the front of the classroom.

his back facing you, you could see how well his clothes hugged his shape and you couldn't help but admire.

he was wearing his uniform this time, his white dress shirt was crisp and free of any wrinkles and tucked into the waistband of his pants. his sleeves were rolled up so his forearms were exposed, you felt your mouth water slightly as you saw the veins from his arms lead to his large hands.

"are you going to keep staring like a perv or sit down?" and the moments ruined.

you roll your eyes and walk up to him, slamming your backpack down onto the desk before folding your arms across your chest, "what's your game plan here, shitface?" you spit out.

jake chuckles, finding your attitude and actions cute. you thought you were intimidating but in reality jake allowed you to believe that you were in charge, it was the least he could do before he showed you who was really in control.

jake moves away from the whiteboard before leaning against the teachers desk that sat in front of the board with his arms in front of him, holding him up.

"game plan? what are you talking about __?" jake asks innocently, looking down at you with a pout.

you roll your eyes again, "listen, i'm not in the mood for this back and fourth thing you love doing okay? are you going to tutor me? yes or no?"

jake grins, moving away from the desk and walking up to you, similar to how a predator stalks up to his prey. you give him a dirty look when he stands in front of you, staring down at you.

"of course i'm going to tutor you __, it's the least i could do to help my fellow classmate," he coos mockingly.

"roll your eyes again and watch," he threatens, seeing your expression shift again. your heart stutters in your chest at his tone, a soft flush coating your cheeks.

he knew you to well.

you scoff, "cut the bullshit, i know you have an ulterior motive to this 'i'm a good person' persona you have playing right now. spit it out, what do you want in return?"

his grin widens, "if only you used your brain to pay attention and get good grades rather that theorizing about my 'ulterior motives'. maybe then you wouldn't be in this position," he snarks back, his face leaning closer to yours. you take a step back but he takes two closer to you.

if you hadn't known jake and were someone else you would've thought that he was going to lean in and kiss you right now with the way his breathe fanned against your cheek. he was to close, but this was just how jake was. always in your face and business.

"maybe if you weren't a little shit who didn't have dick up his ass every second of the day i wouldn't be aiming for your crotch right now with my knee," you spit back, your knee bent up and close to his crotch area.

jake rolls his eyes, taking a step back as a precaution in case you do decide to knee him where it matters.

"so? what do you want in return. don't say that fake shit you're scheming up in your head about how you're just a good person and care for all your peers," you mock in what you think is a good impression of his voice.

he smirks, "all i want from you is to play a little game with me __."

you quirk your eyebrows in suspicion, "what game...?"

"simone says."

you burst into fits of laughter, your eyes watering with amusement as you look at him incredulously, "what are you? 7? get a grip jake," you snicker, leaning against the deck for support as your body still shakes with silent fits of laughter.

"7 inches deep in your mom," he lamely mutters which only makes your body shake harder with amusement.

jake's expression remains the same, "suit yourself, you either agree to the game or you find someone else to tutor you. but you and i both know that no one is going to help re-teach you the way i can."

he wasn't wrong, you and jake regardless of your differences, learned the same way. his notes were thoroughly detailed and you had seen him help out peers before, he was patient and made sure that at the end of the lesson they grasped the concept well.

when you don't say anything he continues, "i miss the competition between us you know? seeing your grades plummet to shit wasn't as satisfying as i thought it would be," he admits as he inspects the classrooms surroundings, almost embarrassed at his own confession.

shocked at the sudden confession you look up at him with a teasing smirk, "how cute jakey."

he groans, "fuck this, i'm out," he makes a move for the door before you grab his wrist.

"okay, okay sorry. i'll play your dumb game, just tutor me shitface," you mumble looking anywhere but him.

jake smirks, the threatening to leave ploy always works.

you had not idea what you were in for.

jake was going to tutor you, there were no lies there. however, he deserved to get a little something out of it.. right?

the game was a mere excuse to him. years of back and fourth had gotten him no where and that had to change, and it had to change soon. who knows were the both of them would end up after graduation, he had to lock you in.

"we start after school today, meet me at the library right after the bell," he says before he quickly struts to the door, leaving you in the classroom by yourself before you even had a chance to protest.

then what was the purpose of this entire meeting? you could've just seen him after school to begin with.

dickhead.

──── ୨୧ ────

"no, no, no that's all wrong," jake sighs as he pulls the notebook from your hands and flips to a different page.

he was beginning to get on your nerves and you had to hold yourself back from slamming your fist into his face.

"well maybe if you teach me from the beginning instead of handing me questions to answer i'll do it correctly," you scoff.

"i need to know where you are in your comprehension to be able to teach you the proper material, you toad. that's why i'm giving you practice questions, which your eating shit at, so clearly i'm going to have to start from the beginning," he snaps back ,rubbing his eyebrows that had tensed up.

you could feel your mouth water slightly at the sight of his hands, long and veiny which looked sinfully good every time he held something. drooling over your academic rival and overall enemy wasn't something that you'd publicly admit, ever. not even to your friends who had their own suspicions of the two of you.

'sexual tension' they said.

"lets start from the beginning of the semester, unless you need i need to revise basic algebra for you too?" he mocked, his upper lip curling up in a sneer.

you give him a sickly sweet smile, you weren't that dumb you still remembered things you learned from previous years. new concepts were the issue for you, "hm, whatever you think is right mr.sim," you say in a mocking innocent tone, all while batting your eyes before turning your head so you're sure he's staring right at you.

jake swallows harshly at the honorific, his fists clenching before he sits up a bit straighter. clearing his throat he lets out a fake cough to distract you if you happened to notice his sudden mood change.

you hadn't noticed his change in behaviour, going back to staring at your textbook. you had forgotten about the situation as soon as your eyes landed on the question you were stuck on, ignoring the now tense boy that sat next to you.

to others you two seemed like a cute couple, studying together and occasionally bantering. the two of you sat closer together than you'd like, but you didn't bother moving away. your knees touching and occasionally rubbing against one another whenever jake decided to bounce his knee, which you had noticed over the last years was a habit of his when he was focused.

"i think you're smart enough to remember previous years of study, let's go over this again. this time from the beginning."

you had to admit, jake was a pretty good teacher. he made sure you understood every concept of the unit, asking you to re-explain them to him as proof. he was patient and kind with you, which you hadn't expected.

but now you were getting tired, peering up to see the time on a clock that was mounted neatly on the library walls it read 6:23. you had been studying for almost 3 hours.

"hey, maybe we should continue this tomorrow," you suggest before leaning back in your chair in an attempt to crack your back. your hands in the air lazily as you let out a soft yawn. wincing when you hear a crack, a soft moan leaving your parted lips.

jake's eyes widened at the sound momentarily, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips when he sees your position. your skirt rose up a fraction and your shirt shifted in a way that your stretching exposed a sliver of your pink bra strap and your collar bone.

jake scoffed in attempts of giving himself a reality check, looking up at the clock, "it's only been 3 hours, tired already?" he raises his eyebrow before cracking his knuckles, joining you by leaning back in the uncomfortable wooden library chairs. he could practically feel his butt bones hit the wood.

you look at him incredulously, choosing silence as a response before turning to grab your phone, checking your notifications.

this seemed to piss jake off, not only had you ignored him but now you had the audacity to go on your phone during his tutoring session that he so graciously offered you out of his free time.

"off your phone, __," he demands, now sitting up in his chair.

you ignore his warning tone, looking up from your phone lazily before scoffing, returning your eyes to your messages.

"__, i said something and i expect you to listen to me," he says again, this time his tone more annoyed than demanding.

"simone says, get off your phone," he tries.

you let out a giggle, looking up at him with amusement, there's no way he tried using that. "or what? huh? what happens if i don't listen to simone and what he says," you mock with a pout.

"i reconsider tutoring you, i'm making time out of my day to help you and you're being ungrateful and bratty. the least you could do is stay off your phone while we're studying and abide by my only condition, which was to play simone says," he spits passively.

jake wasn't an angry person, he was typically calm and collected and rarely ever raised his voice. but something about you irked him, every name you called him, every snarky response to his normal questions, every dirty look you gave him—all of it had him busting at his seems. his eyes would twitch with annoyance and his hands itched to take care of your bratty mouth, he of course, never acted on his thoughts.

but life seemed to work in strange ways, and unbeknownst to him he now had a chance to do what he's been itching to do.

"wow you must be so busy," you mock, your arms fake surrendering.

"i'm so sorry that i took precious time out of your day. time that you use to beat your dick to some sort of freak anime porn," you snicker, sure you kept your distance from him but you did some digging on the boy.

some say you're good with your hands, picking a lock with some pins was light work for you. you remember back in junior year jake had 'accidentally' taken your keys to the debate room, the keys that belonged to the debate team captain, you. you knew he was upset that you got captain instead of him and he had taken the keys out of jealousy.

at first you decided to let him keep them, out of pity, but what's the fun in that?

you did the most logical thing, you broke into his locker. while searching for the keys you came across a multitude of things, one of them being a small collection of interesting cartoons performing certain actions.

he was reading hentai. at school. no shame.

your hands shook with excitement when you saw the lewd comics, biting your lip to contain your giggles you flip the pages, quickly scanning the contents.

your eyes widened at the content, jake was into some kinky shit.

your mouth drops as you continue to snoop, giggling to yourself when you realize that you had hit the jackpot on blackmail.

pulling out your phone you took a few pictures of his locker and the porn books mr.goody two-shoes was hiding from the student body.

jake's eyes widen at your comment, how did you know?

seeing jake's reaction, your grin widens and you decide to test your luck, "didn't take you for a guy who liked bondage jakey," you giggle, biting your lip to hold back the booming laughter that threatened to leave your mouth.

"unless, it's you who's getting tied up.. i can see that," you tease before you begin to shake with laughter. you glance over in between fits of laughter to see jake's expression, which remained shocked, struggling to process the situation.

"but i'm not surprised, little bitch boys like you look like they enjoy being left helpless," you continue as you stare at his confused face.

you couldn't help but cross your legs to soothe the ache between your legs, the situation you were in and the power you held over jake's head had got you feeling some kind of way.

just when you thought you had control of the entire situation, perched on your little high horse and ready to prance around jake, his expression changed and he lets out a small laugh. 

your grin drops, confused to why he found the situation amusing.

"you know __, i respect that you tried," he says, you could see his eyes water as he bit back a smile threatening to appear on his face.

"this, just made everything i'm going to do a lot easier," he continues before he finally lets the grin he's been holding back pop onto his oh-so perfect face.

you look at him confused, "are you into humiliation too, jakey? i never would've guessed."

his grin only widens, he suddenly stands up from his chair and slams his hands on the library desk.

luckily, the library had emptied out slowly in the last few hours and only a few students remained in the large spaced area.

"what are you do-" you began before the words were knocked out of you.

literally.

grabbing you by the back of your neck, jake pulls you up and pushes you face against the desk.

and suddenly you were regretting picking the most secluded section of the library.

"what the fuck are you doing?!" you try to say but the words come out as sloppy and squeaky due to one side of your face being glued to the desktop.

you hear his breathing get heavier but no reply comes from him.

suddenly, you hear rustling of his belt and a click, indicating that he was now taking it off.

instead of fear, excitement rushes through you and you squeeze your legs together in anticipation.

jake sees this and grins, "dirty bitch," he sneers before impatiently yanking his belt off, letting go of his grip on the back of your neck—quickly grabbing a hold of your arm.

you let out a small squeal when you feel him roughly tug your arms behind your back, securing your arms with his belt.

you let out a small hiss of complain when he tightens the belt a bit to tight to which he only chuckles in response.

his hands bury themselves in your hair, yanking it so your face is no longer against the table and instead the crown of your head was touching his chest.

you could feel him ground himself against your behind, your eyes widening when you feel him push against your ass.

"you see how you're bent over a desk with my belt tied around your wrists and left all helpless, not me?" he whispers harshly in your ear, his breath tickling your skin making a shiver run through your body.

you unconsciously push yourself further back into him, a low groan leaving his parted lips.

"beats me, your the one that got hard from me degrading you, bitchboy," you snicker, wiggling your hips against him, finding the whole situation slightly amusing. you were really pushing it and you'd soon realize it.

your laughter dies down when you feel one of jake's hand slither down to your legs, softly running his fingertips along the plush of your thighs and nearing your crotch.

you shut your eyes when you feel his fingers graze against your underwear clad heat. a soft moan escaping your parted lips when he presses firmly against your clit, moving his finger up and down.

"and what about you, __? you've already soaked through your panties. and i've barely even touched you," he teases with a coo. you could feel him smirk against your ear, his fingers still running up and down your slit making your legs shake at the pressure of his actions.

when you don't answer he grips your hair harder and makes the pressure between your legs firmer, "are you not embarrassed, __?" he asks, his grip on your hair disappears and you fall back onto the desk with a soft thud.

"you're allowing yourself to be bent over the counter by someone who you swear up and down you hate," he continues, now pulling his hand away from your cunt making you whimper at the loss of feeling.

he smirks, "but i have a feeling, that you don't really hate me."

you look back at him before pulling your face into a sneer, "fuck yo-" you began but before you could finish a loud smack silenced you.

your skirt was flipped up and jake had made his hand comfortable on one of your ass cheeks. "you wanna try that again?" he asks, his eyebrow raised as his tongue pokes his cheek.

you were no one to back away from a challenge, "i said fu-"

smack!

smack!

smack!

"say sorry," he commands before landing another hard smack. you shake your head, biting your lip so hard that you swore you could taste blood. seeing you shake your head, he only grins, "suit yourself."

he landed hit after hit, smack after smack until you were sobbing and babbling over your own words. as much as it hurt your pride to apologize, you would have to or you'd drown in your own tears.

"i-i'm sorry," you manage to push out, you laid your head on the desk waiting for jake to say something.

"that's my good girl," he coos softly, his hand now massaging your bruised cheeks. you let out a small whimper at the feeling, you were sure that you wouldn't be able to sit down properly for weeks.

a small choked sob escapes your mouth when he begins to kneed the sore spot a little to rough, "does that hurt angel?" he coos softly while places soft kisses down your clothed spine.

you nod shakily, "that's too bad, but i know a strong girl like you can take so much more."

and just like that you were pulled off of the desk and pushed down onto the floor, a hiss leaving your mouth when the rough carpet of the library scratches your knees.

"now, you're going to stay true to your part of the deal," he begins before stopping, admiring how helpless you looked as he stares down at your tear filled eyes and flushed pink cheeks. how he has imagined you in this exact position hundreds of thousands of times for so many years, and here you were in front of him just how he dreamed.

all those times he's fucked his fist to you when you made him angry, which was every single day. now, he was granted with the opportunity to fuck you and your mouth, and you best believe he was going to take full advantage of it.

his hands fumble with the zipper of his slacks, rushing to pull them down and allowing them to drop down to his knees.

you're eyes widen momentarily when you see his bulge straining against the fabric of his dark grey boxers. you look up at him only to be met with a look of need and urgency, you would say that he looked cute if his dick hadn't hit your cheek when he pulled down his boxers.

"simone says, suck my dick."

you gulp, moving your head back slightly to get a good look of what you were working with only for jake to thread his fingers into your hair and force his dick into your mouth.

you immediately gag, your eyes watering as you struggle to adjust to his length. you hear him groan when his tip touches the back of your throat, the sound only motivating you to swallow around him.

"fuck,__. you look so good with my cock stuffed in your bratty mouth," he moans out, his hips now slowly moving in and out of your mouth as a mixture of your spit and his cum leak out of the side of your mouth.

you only moan in response to his harsh and unforgiving thrusts, the sounds vibrating against him.

"look at you, angel. so good for me, taking me so well. if i had known this is the best way to shut you up, i would've done this a long time ago," he grunts out, his hips stuttering when he feels your jaw slacken to take more of him on easier.

"hauling your bratty ass into the nearest room and fucking your throat raw, making you beg for my cock to stretch you out."

you moan at his words, your thighs squeezing together to try relieve the pressure and ache that was building between your legs. jake notices this and smirks, his leg moving to slide between your thighs.

your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion but before you could think more about it jake begins to snap his hips faster. tears run down your cheeks, if your makeup wasn't smudged earlier, it was surely gone now.

suddenly, you felt pressure against your core, and you knew it was jake. he was able to get you to sit yourself onto his shoe, giving you a look that read 'you know what to do', and you did.

as shameful as it was, in the moment you didn't care. you allowed yourself to grind yourself down on his shoe to get some sort of relief, hips snapping to chase your high which was approaching embarrassingly quick.

"you're such a good girl, __. grinding yourself down on my shoe, getting yourself off while you gag around my cock. so fucking dirty," he moans, his head tilting back as he feels his high approach quickly.

you attempt to bob your head but jake doesn't let you, his grip on your hair tightening as he holds your head still. "m'gnna cum, f-fuck," he stutters, his thrusts now getting sloppy.

he then suddenly pulls out from your mouth, you whine from the loss of his cock, he smirks before he begins to ride out his high with his fist. "open your mouth, stick your tongue out," he demands, panting as he desperately fucks his hand.

you couldn't help but admire the view, jake's face was contorted into one of pure pleasure and bliss.

"you look so eager for my cum, yeah? is that right, pretty girl?"

you do as you were told, peering up at him as you continue to grind yourself down on his shoe. "f-fuck, you look so pretty. m'gnna nut all over that pretty face, angel," he pants and just like that thick ropes of his cum coat your face and tongue.

you flinch at the feeling before you swallow what was on your tongue—licking your lips at the warm and slightly salty flavour. a whimper leaving you when jake moves his foot away just when you were about to reach your own high.

he smirks in response, using two of his fingers to tilt your chin to admire the mess he has made on your face. "so pretty, my pretty girl. you were so good for me, and you know what happens to good girls? good girls get rewarded." fortunately for jake, you were too cock drunk to properly comprehend what he was saying.

jake pulls you up, you struggle to stand as you wobble slightly but he grabs your arms as support. he admires you quickly before pulling you into a searing kiss, his hands resting on your waist before moving them up to cup your face.

"so beautiful," he says in between kisses, the words making you feel lightheaded. you didn't know if he meant those words or if he was saying them in the heat of the moment, regardless you basked in the praise.

his hands move to your back, fumbling with the belt that was wrapped around your wrists. you almost moan in relief when he removes his belt from your hands, letting them rest by your sides. however, jake doesn't let you relish in that feeling of relief for long before his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms and then onto the table.

you let out a small gasp when jake drops to his knees, spreading apart your thighs roughly before moving between them. he's face to face with your panty clad heat, your hands immediately move to try and cover yourself but jake was not having it. he pushes away your hands and instead grabs your thighs to pull you closer but you try to shut your legs before he could slot his face between them.

"simone says, spread your legs."

even if you didn't obey, he'd still make you. it was an illusion of choice.

you hesitantly relax, allowing jake to manoeuvre himself between your thighs so his nose brushed against your covered slit.

the sight was erotic, jake looked like he was in heaven when he saw the giant wet patch on your panties.

"you've made a mess, fuck angel," he groans before he's pushing your underwear to the side, his nose poking your clit before you feel his tongue on you.

you let out a squeak when you felt his fingers dig into your thighs as he leaves no part of you untouched with his tongue. he moans into you, the vibration of the sound making you squirm in pleasure.

using his ring and pointer finger, he spreads your lips to get a good look at you, "you're even better than i imagined," he murmurs softly which falls deaf to your ears before resuming his actions.

you tried to keep your moans down but had a hard time doing so when you felt his tongue draw the figure '8' on your clit repeatedly. "f-fuck jake, s'good," you slur out, your grip on his hair tightening.

your hands find there way into jake's dark locks, his eyes rolling back in pleasure when you tug on them. "who knew a slut like you tasted so good," he says but his words come out muffled and only added to your pleasure.

he grins against your sopping pussy, his actions getting firmer and faster when he feels your body quiver and your moans get increasingly louder.

you release jakes hair to cover your mouth in an attempt to silence your moans, however, he didn't like that. you're eyes roll back when you feel him push a digit into your soaking cunt, all while focusing on applying firm pressure to your clit with his tongue.

you could feel your high approaching quickly, which was expected due to your denied orgasm just a few minutes ago. you look down at him for a moment only to meet his eyes already staring right at you, the stare causing you to buck your hips against his mouth as you shamelessly chase your high.

"so pretty baby, so pretty when you grind your slutty pussy on me," he groans as he slurps you like a starving man. he could tell you were close, the look of pure pleasure and concentration on your face gave it away. the way your hips bucked against him drove him crazy, his dick straining against his boxers once again.

"m'gnna cum," you moan, your hands reaching down to grab a hold of jake's hair again—making him groan in pleasure. "please jakey, can i cum? please let me cum," you whined, bucking your hips against him feverishly.

you could feel him nod and that was enough for you to let go. dropping your head back you let out low moan, eye rolling to the back of your head as you feel yourself come undone over jake's face and tongue. "that's it pretty," he says against you, his mouth still on you—helping you ride out your high.

still coming down for your orgasm you feel yourself being pushed to the edge of the desk, your legs hanging over momentarily before you felt them wrap around a torso.

jake leaves no moment to spare, his hands coming down to unbutton and yank off your shirt—letting it fall somewhere on the ground. a groan leaves his mouth when he sees your baby pink bra, hugging your tits so perfectly that he was jealous that his hands weren't doing that job.

"so pretty, __," he mumbles, pulling down your bra enough for your tits to spill out. his tongue comes out to wet his lips before he's bending over to take one of your pebbled nipples into your mouth.

soft moans slip out of your mouth when he alternates between both of your breasts, taking one into his mouth while he fondles the other one with his hand. your breath hitches when you feel jake grind into your exposed core, his hand coming down to let his cock slip out of his boxers so he could slide his dick against your folds.

"so wet for me," he groans, popping one of your nipples out of his mouth to stare at your face. saying you looked fucked out was an understatement, hair was messy and your makeup was completely gone. but jake thought you looked as beautiful as ever.

"jakey, please," you beg, moving your hips to try and catch his cock. jake grins, "look at you, __. begging for my dick, begging for the dick of someone you hate."

you hated how smug he looked, and all you wanted to do was bitch back at him and show him his real place. however, you wanted his dick in you more.

jake moves back, towering over your frame before he taps the fat head of his cock against your puffy folds. a hiss leaving his mouth when he watches your hole tighten over nothing.

"i've been waiting to do this for so long, __. you don't even know it," he says before he's plunging into you, not letting you think to much about what he said.

gripping your thighs tightly, he bottoms out completely, leaving your mouth hanging in an 'o' shape while jake lets out smalls grunts—feeling your walls flutter around his length.

"so big," you moan, your hands reaching out to grip jake's shirt as he snaps his hips into you ruthlessly.

jake feels as if he's about to combust, after years of back and fourth, countless arguments and rivalry— he was buried deep inside you. this was exactly what he wanted from the beginning, but teenage jake didn't know how to articulate his feelings and made his crush think of him as an enemy rather than a love interest.

he watches your tits bounce with every stroke, mesmerized by the sight. he could get used to this, and he will.

"so good for me, pretty. taking my cock s'well," jake slurs, the sound of skin slapping filling the library. he was surprised that no one had caught them yet, but he wouldn't stop even if they were.

you feel the table move with every thrust, your back arching as you claw at him at the feeling of being so full. the wet sounds you were making when jake began to rub circles on your aching clit made you moan out.

never in a million years would you have thought you'd be in this position, sure, jake was a star in some of your dirty fantasies but you'd never act on it. to think the nerd knew how to fuck, you were a bit surprised at how fast his hips moved and how he pounded into you ruthlessly.

"look at you, taking me so w-well," jake groans, his balls tightening as he feels himself approaching his high quickly. he begins to rub your clit firmer as his pace quickens and strokes get deeper, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock in your dripping wet cunt.

he could feel you tighten around him and he knew you were close as well. his hand comes to wrap around your neck, pulling you up from the desk so your face to face with him—his thrusts not slowing down.

"fuck look at you pretty, all ready for my cum," he murmurs before he pulls you in for a scorching kiss—swallowing your moans.

"you gonna cum, pretty?" he asks as he feels his stomach tighten with every stroke, watching you bite your lip as you try to match his thrusts. you nod frantically at his words, "m'gonna cum, jakey. please make me cum," you beg softly as you hold onto his shoulders for support.

"yeah? gonna cum? cum for me, pretty," he mumbles against your lips before he lands a smack against your throbbing clit. your body shakes as you come undone, jake's high following soon after. you could feel his hot cum shoot into you, the feeling leaving you breathless as he continues to fuck into you—making sure you milked him dry.

he pulls out of you gently, cursing when he watches his cum fall out of your fucked out cunt and onto the desk. "did so good for me, pretty."

you lay limply on the desk, your body twitching ever so slightly as you come down from your high—still in shock of what happened.

before your had a chance to gather yourself and ask the question: what now? he beats you to it.

"simone says, go out with me."

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here !

[enhaflixer]

all i know is we said "hello" (and your eyes looking like coming home)

family friend!Jungwon x f!reader

Synopsis: Years of just friends start to unravel when Jungwon dates the wrong girl, and you realize you might’ve lost him for good—until one fight changes everything.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: Angst to fluff, Jealousy & misunderstandings, Toxic ex-girlfriend, Emotional confrontation, Kissing

Masterlist

AN: THIS ONE GOES OUT TO MAAAA GIRLLLLLL @naurwayyyyy YOU GO BSF HOPE U LIKE IT

-

Yang Jungwon met you for the first time at a neighborhood playground when you were both six years old. The air buzzed with excitement as children ran across the wood chips, their laughter ringing through the summer evening. The smell of grilled food drifted from nearby picnic tables, where parents gathered to chat and keep a watchful eye on their little ones. You had just finished building a sandcastle, proudly shaping the turrets, when a shadow loomed over you.

Can I help?” Jungwon’s voice was quiet but curious. His neatly combed hair and serious expression made him look oddly formal for a playground, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made you nod.

Together, you molded the castle, carefully adding moats and bridges. He handed you a twig to use as a flag, and when you placed it at the highest turret, he clapped as if you had just accomplished something grand. That was all it took. From that moment on, you were inseparable for the rest of the evening. You chased each other across the monkey bars, competed to see who could swing the highest, and shared his snacks—because, as Jungwon had explained, “friends share snacks.”

When the time came to leave, your parents had to pry you both apart. Your mother chuckled, shaking her head. “Looks like they’ve found their new best friend.” His mother nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. “I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

And they were right.

Your friendship with Jungwon only deepened as the years passed. Your childhood was filled with shared birthdays, school projects, and whispered secrets under blanket forts. Summers were spent playing hide-and-seek until dusk, while winters meant snowball fights and cups of hot chocolate at each other’s houses. There was never a moment of hesitation between you two—Jungwon was your person, and you were his.

At a school talent show in third grade, you had nervously gripped the microphone, ready to perform a duet with Jungwon. You had practiced for weeks, but the crowd made your stomach churn with nerves. Jungwon had noticed immediately, nudging you gently before whispering, “We’ve got this.” When you finally sang, his voice carried yours, steady and sure. By the time the song ended, the entire auditorium had erupted in applause.

Then there were the family picnics, where both families gathered in the park with packed lunches and coolers full of drinks. Your parents, ever the shameless matchmakers, would tease, “Look at our little soulmates.” You and Jungwon would exchange exasperated looks before groaning, “We’re just friends!” But despite the protests, there was an undeniable closeness between you that neither of you could—or wanted to—explain.

Even on rainy days, when plans were canceled, the two of you found joy in the simplest things. Instead of sulking over ruined outings, you built elaborate pillow forts in your living room, draping blankets over chairs and stringing fairy lights inside. Those rainy afternoons were filled with whispered conversations and laughter, the outside world forgotten as long as you were together.

High school brought new experiences and social circles, but your bond with Jungwon remained unwavering. At your first school dance, you had both stood awkwardly near the refreshments table, watching your peers with amusement. “This is weird,” you had muttered.

Jungwon had chuckled. “Very weird.”

But eventually, he had held out a hand, grinning. “Come on. Just one dance.”

With a reluctant sigh, you had taken it, and for the rest of the night, you danced—badly, terribly even—but together.

As high school progressed, you faced more changes. Exams, sports, extracurriculars—all the things that came with growing up. But at the end of the day, you and Jungwon always found your way back to each other, whether it was through late-night calls about homework stress or spontaneous ice cream runs after rough days.

Until Soojin happened.

-

University was supposed to be an exciting new chapter, a place where you and Jungwon would navigate the unknown together. But then Soojin Kim entered the picture, and everything started to change.

You first noticed her at a university mixer, where her effortless charm and striking beauty immediately caught Jungwon’s attention. You had watched, a strange feeling settling in your stomach, as she laughed at his jokes, leaning in just a little too close. Jungwon, captivated, barely noticed when you excused yourself early that night.

The first time Jungwon introduced you to Soojin over coffee, you knew something was off. Her saccharine smile never quite reached her eyes, and though her words were laced with politeness, every compliment felt like a carefully disguised jab.

“You and Jungwon must have been such adorable kids together,” she had said, stirring her latte. “It’s cute how you still follow him around.”

Something in your chest twisted, but Jungwon, oblivious, had only beamed. “Yeah, we’ve been inseparable since we were kids.”

Soojin had tilted her head, smiling. “That’s adorable. But I mean, college is all about moving forward, right?”

It wasn’t long before Jungwon started canceling plans more often. “Sorry, Soojin wants to go to this concert tonight,” he’d text last minute. Or, “I’ll make it up to you, promise.” But promises didn’t stop the empty seats at your usual café meet-ups or the growing ache in your chest.

-

Your birthday had always been special—an unspoken tradition where Jungwon would take you to your favorite café, just the two of you. It was something you both looked forward to every year, a brief moment of certainty in a life full of change. But this year, something was different.

You sat alone at your usual table, the one by the window where the sunlight would always hit just right. A small slice of cake sat untouched before you, the candle flickering unsteadily. You checked the time again, your phone screen lighting up to show that nearly two hours had passed. The initial disappointment had settled into something heavier, something that ached deep in your chest.

You had hoped—hoped that despite everything, despite Soojin and the increasing distance between you and Jungwon, today would be different. That maybe, for just this one day, he would remember.

But the empty seat across from you told a different story.

When the bell above the door chimed, you glanced up, your heart foolishly lifting for a split second. And there he was—Jungwon, breathless, his hair slightly disheveled, his jacket hastily thrown on. He scanned the café, his eyes finding you instantly, but instead of relief, all you felt was the sharp sting of resentment.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, rushing toward you. He slid into the seat across from you, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. “I lost track of time.”

You stared at him, your expression unreadable. The scent of Soojin’s perfume still clung to his clothes, sickly sweet and unmistakable.

“You lost track of time,” you repeated, your voice eerily calm. “Or you just didn’t care enough to be here?”

Jungwon flinched slightly, his brows pulling together. “That’s not fair. You know I wouldn’t miss this on purpose.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “Jungwon, do you even realize how many times you’ve said that lately?”

His mouth opened, but no words came. He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time, he seemed to notice the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped as if carrying a weight you hadn’t meant to bear alone.

“I’ve been trying,” he finally said, voice softer now, like he was trying to mend something that had already cracked beyond repair. “I know I haven’t been around as much, but—”

“But you always have time for her,” you interrupted, your voice raw. “Jungwon, I’m not asking for every second of your day. I never have. But you used to be my best friend. You used to show up.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Jungwon exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face. “I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.”

You swallowed hard, pushing down the lump forming in your throat. “But you did.”

And that was the worst part. He had hurt you, not because he wanted to, but because you had stopped being a priority without him even realizing it. And now, sitting across from him, you weren’t sure if there was a way to fix it.

You pushed your untouched cake toward him and stood. “Happy birthday to me,” you muttered, turning before he could see the tears threatening to spill.

As you walked out of the café, the cold air hit your face like a slap, grounding you. For years, Jungwon had been your safe place, your constant. But now? Now, you weren’t so sure.

And maybe—just maybe—it was time to stop waiting for him to show up.

-

The days following your birthday were eerily silent. The usual pings of Jungwon’s messages that once filled your phone were now just ghostly notifications that you left unread. He called—once, twice, ten times—but you never picked up. Every attempt he made to reach you was met with quiet rejection, your heart too raw to even consider the possibility of listening to whatever excuse he had prepared.

The absence of his presence was both a relief and a new kind of pain. You had spent so many years orbiting around each other that now, without him, you felt unsteady. But what hurt more was the realization that maybe this was inevitable. Maybe, despite everything, people did grow apart. Maybe you had just been fooling yourself into thinking you and Jungwon were different.

Minji, your closest friend at university, noticed immediately.

“You look like hell,” she said one afternoon, plopping down next to you on the grass outside the library.

You exhaled, leaning back against the cool stone wall. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. You’re walking around like a zombie,” she pressed, concern lacing her voice. “You haven’t spoken to Jungwon since your birthday?”

You shook your head. “No. And I don’t plan to.”

Minji studied you for a long moment before sighing. “You know, you’re allowed to be mad. You’re allowed to feel hurt. But you’re also allowed to talk to him.”

You knew she was right. But the thought of facing Jungwon, of pretending things could somehow go back to normal, made your stomach twist.

“Maybe I’m just tired of always being the one who cares more.”

Minji didn’t argue. She just squeezed your hand in quiet support.

-

Jungwon didn’t stop trying.

Every day, he sent a new message. I know you don’t want to talk, but I just need you to know I’m sorry. Or Please, let me explain. Some nights, you stared at your phone longer than you should have, your fingers hovering over his contact before locking your screen and setting it aside.

But the walls you had built around yourself started to crack when you saw him outside the lecture hall one afternoon, standing in the cold, waiting.

For you.

The moment your eyes met, he looked like he had something to say, something desperate, something urgent. But instead of walking over, you turned in the opposite direction.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the way his shoulders slumped in defeat or the way you kept walking, pretending it didn’t matter.

-

The following days were filled with a silence heavier than any argument. You ignored Jungwon’s texts, his missed calls, his weak attempts to act as if things could simply go back to normal. Minji had been right—maybe it was time to stop waiting for him to show up.

But he wasn’t the only one trying to get your attention.

Soojin cornered you in the university library one afternoon, a saccharine smile stretched across her lips. “You really thought he’d choose you over me?” she mused. “It’s sad, really.”

You didn’t respond, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much her words affected you.

“Jungwon will come around,” she continued, twirling a strand of her hair. “But by the time he does, it won’t matter. You’ll already be out of the picture. You’re just some pathetic wannabe who I have to end up stepping on to get what I want.”

Her words settled over you like a dark cloud, but what neither of you realized was that someone else had overheard the conversation.

Sunghoon, one of Jungwon’s closest friends, had seen everything.

And he wasn’t going to let Soojin win.

Jungwon hadn’t slept properly in days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face—not the happy, familiar version he had grown up with, but the hurt expression you wore at the café, the disappointment in your eyes when you walked away from him. It haunted him, clawing at the edges of his thoughts, leaving a hollow ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

Sunghoon’s message had been the final push.

You’ve been blind for too long. It’s time to open your eyes.

So Jungwon had listened.

He met up with Sunghoon later that evening, sitting across from him in their usual spot on campus, but this time, the easy camaraderie they normally shared was missing. Sunghoon was serious, his expression set in something Jungwon rarely saw—disappointment.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Sunghoon asked, shaking his head. “How much she’s hurting?”

Jungwon swallowed hard, staring down at the table. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad,” he admitted. “I just… I thought we were fine.”

“Fine?” Sunghoon scoffed. “Jungwon, she’s been holding herself together while you’ve been running around with Soojin, acting like she doesn’t exist.”

His stomach twisted. He wanted to deny it, to say that it wasn’t true, but as Sunghoon’s words sank in, so did the reality of the situation. He had neglected you. He had made you feel like you were nothing more than a leftover part of his life when, in truth, you had always been the most important part.

Sunghoon leaned forward. “I saw Soojin today.”

Jungwon frowned. “What?”

“In the library,” Sunghoon said. “She was talking to Y/N, telling her she was just some pathetic little girl waiting around for you. That she never had a chance.”

Jungwon felt something inside him snap. “She said what?”

“She tried to make her feel small,” Sunghoon continued, watching Jungwon closely. “And you know what Y/N did? She didn’t let her win. She stood up for herself. She walked away.” He paused. “From Soojin. And from you.”

Jungwon felt like he had been punched in the gut. He thought back to every time you had tried to reach out, every moment where you had smiled through your hurt and pretended you were fine when you weren’t.

And he had let you suffer alone.

“Damn it,” Jungwon muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I need to talk to her.”

Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah, you do. But this time, don’t just show up with excuses. Show up with the truth.”

-

Jungwon barely remembered the walk to your apartment. His heart pounded in his chest, his stomach in knots as he rehearsed what he was going to say. He had no right to ask for forgiveness, but he had to try. He had to make you understand just how much you meant to him.

When you opened the door, your expression shifted from surprise to guardedness.

“Jungwon,” you said, your voice tired. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” he said quickly, before you could shut the door in his face. “Please. Just give me a few minutes.”

You hesitated before sighing and stepping aside. “Fine. Say what you need to say.”

Jungwon stepped inside, his gaze searching yours. “I messed up,” he began, his voice raw. “I hurt you, and I didn’t even realize how badly until it was too late.”

You crossed your arms, looking away. “Jungwon—”

“No, please,” he interrupted. “Let me finish.” He took a deep breath. “I let Soojin get in my head. I let her convince me that you’d always be there, that it didn’t matter if I pushed you aside. But it did. It mattered more than anything.”

Your lips parted slightly, your fingers tightening around your sleeves. “Jungwon…”

He stepped closer, his eyes shining with something desperate, something real. “You are the most important person in my life. You always have been. And I was an idiot for not seeing that sooner.”

You blinked, your breath hitching. “Then why did you choose her?”

Jungwon shook his head. “I didn’t choose her, I broke up with her. I was just too scared to admit who I really wanted. And by the time I realized it, I thought I had already lost you.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and uncertain. Then, finally, you exhaled, your shoulders dropping. “You hurt me, Jungwon.”

“I know,” he whispered. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I need you to know that I—” He hesitated, then looked you straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, voice steadier this time. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time, but I was too stupid to realize it.”

You stared at him, emotions flickering across your face—shock, disbelief, something else. “Jungwon…”

He swallowed. “Please. If there’s even a part of you that still—”

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t hesitant. It was years of bottled-up emotions, of missed chances and unspoken words, colliding all at once. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if to make up for every moment he had let slip through his fingers.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling. “You’re an idiot,” you whispered.

Jungwon let out a soft, breathless laugh. “I know.”

You smiled, the tension in your shoulders finally easing. “But I love you too.”

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right again.

The Honeymoon

The ocean waves lapped softly against the shore, the golden light of the setting sun casting everything in a warm, dreamlike glow. You and Jungwon walked barefoot along the beach, fingers intertwined, the sand cool beneath your feet. The rhythmic crash of the waves was the only sound between you for a moment, peaceful and steady—like the quiet certainty that after everything, you had finally found your way back to each other.

Jungwon gave your hand a gentle squeeze before stopping, turning to face you. “I still can’t believe we’re here.”

You smiled, feeling the salt-tinged breeze against your skin. “Me neither.”

His eyes softened, filled with a warmth that sent a familiar flutter through your chest. “After everything, I never thought I’d get to have this with you,” he admitted, brushing a stray hair from your face. “That you’d still choose me.”

You reached up, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You fought for me,” you whispered. “And you never stopped.”

He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll never stop,” he promised. “Not now. Not ever.”

The kiss that followed was slow and deep, filled with every unspoken vow, every moment of longing that had led you to this very place. It was a kiss that tasted like forever.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you knew without a doubt—this was just the beginning.

[minguukie]

　　 ⬚❤︎ ͏　 We 　Were 　Listening 　To　　　　Lovers 　Rock ͏　In 　Her 　Bedroom 　 𓉳^᪲　　 　　

[levanterhaze]

GAMEBOY — BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader this one is just pure angst and drama, no smut, just teasing each other like two idiots.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i had to continue this fic in a 2nd part, i felt necessary. maybe i'll continue it in a few more chapters (PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME) and thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and appreciated this piece. it means a lot to a person who is non-native english wrt. without further ado, have a good read, loves!

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one]

you’re so indecisive of what I’m saying tryna catch the beat, make up your heart don't know if you're happy or complaining don't want for us to end, where do I start?

The pounding in your head was a testament to last night’s choices. Aspirin was non-negotiable. You could hear Eunji and Sohee's voices from the living room and were surprised that both of them were already awake after their all-nighter.

After leaving the room with Bangchan—because, of course, that happened—you ducked into the bathroom, shot off a text about vomiting and existential regret, and decided to make a graceful exit. Well, as graceful as one could manage after wild sex with the person you’d sworn to hate forever. Pride was nowhere in the equation, but who cared?

As soon as your eyes saw daylight, Eunji and Sohee looked at you judgmentally. You froze in your tracks, still wearing pink Hello Kitty jammies like a monument to your shame. Their judgment was immediate, sharp as a blade. Your heart sped up.

“You’re alive,” Sohee deadpanned, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. “And looking like shit.”

“Appreciate it,” you shot back, throwing yourself into a chair. “Really warms the soul.”

Eunji’s smoothie slurp was unnecessarily loud, drilling straight into your skull. “We thought about waking you for breakfast but figured you’d need the recovery time.”

You dismissed the idea with a hand wave. "That's okay. Wouldn’t have gotten up anyway.”

"We can have lunch together, if you like. I really need a detox after last night." Sohee curled her lips into a grimace and you almost smiled. Detox advice from Sohee was peak irony.

But then Eunji, ever the chaos-bringer, dropped the bomb. “Oh my God, you guys, I heard the craziest thing last night! Jiwoon—my lit classmate—said he walked in on someone having super loud sex at the party. Guess who it was? Bangchan!”

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

Silence remained and Sohee raised her eyebrows at Eunji.

“Apparently, the guy is a structural hazard,” Sohee chimed in, amused. “Minho said he once broke a floorboard. Who even does that?” Your red-haired friend says giggling.

Eunji giggled. “The girl’s lucky. If Bangchan wrecked me, I’d consider it an honor.”

You summoned your most convincing disdain, rolling your eyes with the energy of someone deeply unimpressed. “Honestly, can we not make him sound like some sort of deity?”

But guilt clung to you like a second skin, mingling with vivid flashes of last night—the furniture banging against the wall, Bangchan’s muscles taut as he tried to steady it. The memory burned, searing and humiliating, until Eunji’s voice yanked you back to reality.

The memory faded like mist when Eunji said it again. "Anyway, the girl’s lucky. I wish I was knocked down by Bangchan."

Lucky. That’s what they’d call you if they knew. Lucky—and a traitor to everything you’d loudly professed about hating him. They didn’t know it was you, and you intended to keep it that way.

From the tone of the chat, Jiwoon didn't see who was in the room with Bangchan, which means he didn't know you were the girl. Trying to ignore the talking and the sweat growing on your hands, you got up and declared that you were going to take a shower and maybe run some laps around the athletics track, because you really needed some fresh air.

The dorm felt claustrophobic. Eunji and Sohee were your best friends and you felt awful for not telling them the truth.

These were your best friends, but the truth felt like a grenade you couldn’t risk dropping. For months, you’d built your personality around despising Bangchan, and now? One night had unraveled it all.

Worst of all? You couldn’t stop replaying every second of it—and how much you’d loved it.

Sex had always been an exercise in mediocrity. Your exes? Predictably average, hitting the bare minimum on their way to their own finish line. As for finding the clitoris? Let’s just say they navigated like someone using a map upside down—an unsurprising disappointment every single time.

Now, though, Bangchan was something else entirely. A campus legend with a reputation as vast as it was unshakable. Everyone knew about his conquests—more women than you had fingers to count. Every rumor you’d rolled your eyes at turned out to be painfully, thrillingly true. He was better than anything you could have imagined.

Even after a long shower, his touch lingered, like phantom fingerprints etched into your skin. You could still feel him, every moment replaying in a maddening loop. No one had ever made you come twice in one night. No one. That fact alone made him unforgettable—and insufferably smug, no doubt.

Pulling on comfortable clothes, you grabbed a bag, stuffed in some essentials, and checked your phone. The group chat was overflowing with photos and messages from last night’s chaos, but you scrolled past all of it. There was only one person you needed right now.

You: Up for a morning run?

The reply came in under two minutes.

Hyunjin: It’s two in the afternoon. You: Morning for me. Hyunjin: Fine. Be there in five.

You tossed your phone into your bag and took a deep breath. A run was exactly what you needed—to burn off this restless energy and, hopefully, forget how guilty you felt.

You found Hyunjin on the running track near the outdoor field, surrounded by lush greenery and bursts of flowers the campus meticulously maintained. He looked effortlessly good, of course—baggy clothes hanging just right, dark hair falling over his face like it had been styled by the gods.

You started running side by side, silence settling between you. It was comfortable but heavy, like a bubble that needed popping. The kiss was the unspoken elephant on the track, but Hyunjin, ever observant, didn’t push. Not yet.

The day was crisp, the kind of weather that made you feel invincible. You poured your focus into your pace, and before you knew it, you’d pulled ahead. “Okay, okay—hold up,” Hyunjin called, his voice carrying just enough humor to make you smirk.

You stopped a few strides ahead, spinning on your heel to face him. He sauntered toward you, not even winded, like running was merely a mild inconvenience.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, his tone playful but probing.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you countered, already feeling your resolve falter.

“Uh-huh.” He stopped in front of you, his gaze narrowing. “Then why, exactly, did you ask me to kiss you last night?”

Well. There it was. No escaping now.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool as you grabbed the water bottle from your bag. “I was... needy, I guess.”

Hyunjin raised a brow, crossing his arms like he wasn’t buying it. “Needy, huh?”

“Look,” you said, exhaling sharply, “I’m sorry if it made things weird. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for that to get messed up.”

“Relax,” he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “A kiss isn’t going to scare me off. You’re stuck with me.”

His easy laugh melted some of your tension, but before you could respond, he clapped his hands together with mock seriousness. “Tell you what—first one to the other side of campus owes the winner a banana milk.”

The sudden challenge caught you off guard, and you raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, already turning on his heel to start jogging backward. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you bolted after him. “You’re so on.”

You lost the run, but of course, Hyunjin still paid for the drink. That summed him up as a friend.

After he dashed off to rehearse with Felix—because apparently, everyone else was rehearsing but you—a thought hit you like a lightbulb flickering to life. Rumors? Easy to spread. But if you wanted to get ahead of them, you had to go straight to the source.

With a mission in mind, you swaggered toward the gym where the basketball team was practicing. It wasn’t exactly classified info—every girl on campus could probably tell you when and where their training sessions were. You zipped your jacket up to your chin like it was some sort of emotional armor, grabbed your water bottle for moral support, and marched down the corridors. The door to the gym was already cracked open, and as you pushed it, everything seemed to slow down in the most dramatic way.

The guys were running drills, their shoes squeaking on the court like a broken record. The noise grated on your nerves, but you weren’t here for the sound; you were here for the spectacle. The stands were dotted with girls, some wrapped up in their player-boyfriend fantasies, while others... Well, who knows what they were thinking. You didn’t care. You had your eyes on the real prize today.

There he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His black and white uniform somehow looked too good on him. Focus, girl. You hid behind the staircase, crouched like a sneaky little spy, waiting for the game to wrap up.

It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually, the whistle blew. You adjusted your posture, trying to act casual, though you were definitely still paying attention to how the sweat trickled down Bangchan's forehead. It brought you war flashbacks. When the players scattered to grab towels and water, you took your cue to appear from behind the bleachers, giving a quick, awkward wave before ducking back again.

Bangchan's eyes scanned the area, and when they landed on you, his brows shot up in surprise.  In the meantime, he did the inevitable: he took off his shirt and used it to get dry. Great. Just great.

"Did you come to watch?" He smirked, that cocky grin of his. "Didn't know you were into basketball."

You rolled your eyes. His ability to flirt in every situation was almost impressive.

"Ha-ha. No." You sucked in a breath, desperately trying to obey your brain's commands. Don't look down. Don’t you dare look down. "Actually, I came to ask for a favor."

He leaned against the wall, eyebrow quirked, looking amused. "Okay...?"

“Right. I want what happened yesterday to stay a secret.”

Bangchan's eyebrow arched higher, an expression of entertained disbelief crossing his face. He crossed his arms, flexing those muscles in a way that made the mission of not looking at them impossible.

“'You think I'm going around saying we fucked?"

You roll your eyes, frustration building up, and clench your hand into a fist. Sure, say it louder, let the world know.

“Isn't that exactly what you do? Brag about your sexual life?”

The boy nodded, puffing out his chest, he shot back. "Ever heard me brag about it?"

“I don't need to hear it from you. The campus does it for you.” It was infuriating how this worked out. Everyone thought Bangchan was the type of guy, praising his victories and glorifying him every time he got between some girl's pants. 

Meanwhile, girls were severely censured for even kissing a guy at a party.

"Right. So you're just going off what people say about me?" His tone was challenging, like he couldn’t care less.

In a long drawn-out sigh, you fidgeted with your hands, intending to put the matter to one side. "Can you just keep this between us? I don't want anyone to know."

"Whatever, it's no big deal," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "If it's that important to you."

The words stung more than they should have. It wasn’t just the lack of care, it was the way he made it sound like it didn’t matter. No big deal. It hurt your pride, even if you didn’t mean it to. But that was Bangchan, wasn’t it? Haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, he was great in bed, but his attitude? Utterly shitty.

“Thanks.” You said it briefly, biting down your pride and leaving the scene as fast as you could. Speaking to him seemed like a fool's errand, but you couldn't risk it.

Behind you, Bangchan pursed his lips into a thin line, watching you go. To him, you were hopeless—always on guard, never letting your walls down. He knew he was right, even if it was a thin line. Sure, it was fun to rile you up, but it was maddening that you hated him for things he hadn’t even done.

Getting you to change your mind, though? That was the challenge. But if that’s what it took, he was more than willing to play the long game.

Early next week. Only Tuesday, and auditions loomed just a day away. You’d been agonizing over the perfect solo—one that wouldn’t just get you a role but the role. Monday was a blur of brainstorming with Hyunjin and Seungmin, your trusted theater comrades. Between swapping notes, debating song choices, and plenty of eye rolls, you managed to help each other refine your audition pieces. It was productive. Chaotic, but productive.

Your last hour of the day belonged to the theater, and it was sacred. The stage wasn’t just a place; it was a state of mind. The second the music hit, the world faded. Bills, homework, exes who ghosted you—it all melted away. Up there, you weren’t just alive; you were electric. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was instinct.

Your mom used to say you were born for the stage. She loved telling the story of how, as a kid, you’d belt out The Little Mermaid soundtrack so often the neighbors probably debated filing a noise complaint. Singing “Part of Your World” at the top of your lungs? A daily ritual. But the first time you sang for real—no plastic microphone, no stuffed animal audience—it clicked.

This was more than a passion. It was home.

Since high school, your hunger for the stage—and the spotlight—was insatiable. If there was a club, you wanted in. University was no different. People noticed you, not just for your knack for hitting sharp, glass-shattering high notes, but for your versatility. You could slip from sweet soprano to soulful belter faster than a drama major running late to class. On stage, you were magnetic.

Everyone gathered on stage, and Mrs. Baek appeared a few moments later with her round glasses and wavy hair around her face. Her figure was solid and powerful, as was her voice and knowledge.

But today, something was off. The crease on her forehead gave her away before she said a word. It was like a ripple of unease spread across the stage, and you didn’t miss a beat. You were already bracing for the bad news.

Then, a slim figure in a long skirt and boots strode into the center of the circle, sighing like she’d just carried the weight of the world—and maybe she had. “Okay, kids. Listen up.” Every pair of eyes locked onto her as if she were delivering the prophecy of doom. “We’re postponing the auditions. Indefinitely.”

Her announcement hit like a gut punch, and the stage erupted into chaos. Whispers turned to complaints, and complaints turned to full-blown outrage. Seungmin cast a skeptical glance at Mrs. Baek, then at you and Hyunjin, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

What the hell was going on?

“All right, settle down,” Mrs. Baek said, slipping her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose with that practiced mix of authority and exhaustion only she could pull off. “Jun-ho, our sound engineer, has officially dropped out of college. And to make matters worse, the university has decided to cut funding for the theater department in favor of... sports.”

“You're shitting me.” Nahee’s voice sliced through the commotion like a whip. She quickly caught herself, mumbling, “Sorry... but seriously—”

“That’s so unfair!” another voice chimed in from the back, frustration rippling through the group like a shockwave. “Basketball and soccer aren’t the only things this university has going for it.”

“I get it, kids. Believe me, I tried.” Mrs. Baek’s tone softened, but her words were anything but comforting. “I went to the administration, pleaded our case... But unless we can find enough volunteers and funding, I’m afraid auditions are canceled. Indefinitely.”

It felt like a cruel joke. The theater had always been your sanctuary, the one place where you could shed your armor and just be. And now? It was slipping through your fingers.

When Mrs. Baek dismissed the group, some students stormed out in anger, others lingered, trying to process what had just happened. For you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, the next logical step was the canteen. Food couldn’t fix this, but it was something.

“This is absurd. Now we're all supposed to close our eyes and applaud this nonsense?” Seungmin boomed as the three of you walked to the canteen. It was packed every day, regardless of the time of the day.

At a table outside, you spotted Sohee and Minho. Eunji, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse...

“Tell me about it, I'm so pissed off!” Everyone looked at you, hearing loud and clear about your discontent. All three of you pulled up a chair and you sat down facing Changbin.

“Someone's jumpy.” Sohee leaned across the table. “What's wrong? You three look like shit.”

“It turns out the university cut the theater’s funding in favor of sports.” Your voice was sharp, and your glare shot directly at Bangchan, who was busy texting like the world wasn’t crumbling around him. He looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, as if you’d just accused him of single-handedly ruining the arts.

You looked away, rage bubbling in your veins.

“That sucks.” Felix shot back with a supportive smile. “I know how important the theater is to you guys.”

“Everyone’s been working so hard,” Seungmin muttered, sinking into his chair like the weight of the news had finally crushed him. “It’s just... unfair.”

A heavy silence settled over the table, broken only by the sound of Bangchan’s nails tapping on his phone screen. You glanced his way, the sight of him completely disengaged making your blood boil.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Eunji twisted her lips, hopeful.

“Car wash?” Changbin suggested with a mischievous grin. “Classic fundraiser, right?”

“Sure,” you shot back, deadpan, “let’s exploit women for the sake of art.” Your glare could’ve leveled him then and there. Changbin leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, fine. What about food?” Sohee jumped in, glancing at Minho for support. “Muffins, cupcakes, something simple. People love that stuff.”

Hyunjin's face lights up like a light bulb. “Felix makes brownies. Amazing brownies.”

Felix smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I don’t wanna brag, but they’re basically legendary.”

“Alright, then.” Changbin grinned, pointing a finger gun between Felix and you. “You two make the brownies. And we,” he motioned to himself and Bangchan, “sell them.”

You and Bangchan exchange glances for a millisecond.

“I’ve got the perfect idea,”  he says, a wicked smile slipping from his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “What? Are you going to sell brownies naked around campus?”

The grin widened, and that’s when you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Felix had assured you he could handle everything, but your stubbornness wouldn’t let you sit this one out. If it was for the theater, you were all in. He handed over his famous brownie recipe like it was a national secret.

So, on Thursday, you got hands-on. Literally.

Eunji had come through with the shopping, and soon your dorm looked like a war zone—chocolate smudges on the counters, flour dusting the floor, and batter splattered in places you couldn’t quite explain. You only had a cramped space and a big dream of pulling this off.

You were just pouring the batter into a pan when a sharp knock at the door startled you. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you swung it open, expecting maybe Eunji or Hyunjin. Instead, there stood Bangchan, leaning casually against the door frame like he had nowhere else to be.

“Uh… hello?” You blinked, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Bangchan stood back for a second, observing how exceptionally good you looked.

“So… newsflash,” he started, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wanna double that recipe.”

Confusion flashed across your eyes. “What do you mean?”

He straightened up, clearly enjoying your puzzled reaction. “I may have the entire basketball team to help out with the sale.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in. “You what?”

His grin widened at your disbelief. “You heard me. More hands, more sales. I figured we could use the hype.”

It was insane. But it was also brilliant. A rush of excitement shot through you, lighting up your face. “That’s… that’s fantastic!” you blurted, beaming before instinctively biting your lip to rein in your enthusiasm.

Bangchan tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Thought you’d like that.”

“Oh, shit. I'll tell Felix, we're going to need an extra oven.” You walked over to the coffee table, where your phone was.

Before you could dial, Bangchan’s voice cut through your focus. “You shouldn’t go there.” He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression surprisingly earnest. “It’s a mess. Like, biohazard-level chaos.” You lose heart, trying to think of another alternative. “You can use my dorm. If you want.” He quickly adds the last sentence.

Your stomach dropped at the suggestion. The idea of stepping into Bangchan’s dorm felt like walking into enemy territory. Risky. Dangerous. Not worth the potential fallout. “It’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.”

But Bangchan leaned against the doorframe, his smirk resurfacing. “You sure? There are a lot of brownies to bake, and I don’t think you’ve got all night.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Time was slipping through your fingers like sand, and with the entire basketball team now involved, efficiency was critical. “Fine,” you muttered, hating the way the word tasted in your mouth. “But only if you help.”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

It turned out Bangchan’s “help” involved more than just offering his kitchen. He insisted on carrying every utensil, baking sheet, and ingredient across campus himself, as though showing off how capable he was. By the time you arrived at his so-called dorm, you’d pieced together another puzzle about him.

Rich, but not obnoxiously so. Still, his “dorm” was more like a chic little apartment, complete with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and sleek decor that screamed privilege. The space was annoyingly Bangchan—polished, put together, and just distant enough to be intriguing.

“Cool place.” You muttered after he closed the door behind you. Scanning the room and trying not to sound impressed.

“Thanks.” he gave you a smile. “So, this is the kitchen.” He motioned to a modern setup that looked like it belonged in a Food Network show. Top class stuff. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” you replied, slipping your hands into your pockets. “Not just for the space but… you know, for helping.”

It was obvious that he was making this effort because the theater was important to his friends Seungmin and Hyunjin. Why else would he do all this? Still, you appreciated it.

His lips twitched into a grin. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back the retort bubbling at your tongue. Play nice. He’s helping. 

“Relax,” he added, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just kidding. There’s booze in the fridge, by the way. Help yourself.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, sidestepping the offer.

“I’ve gotta sort something out with the coach,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll be back in 20. Think you’ll survive here alone?”

Honestly, being in his apartment without him sounded like the best possible scenario. You gave a small nod. “Yeah, no worries.”

With that, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him. You exhaled, a long breath that carried the weight of the past few days. Now you were in enemy territory, surrounded by his world, and somehow, that felt far more personal than it should.

How had this become your life? Baking brownies in Bangchan’s kitchen? It was almost as absurd as sleeping with him—a mistake you’d promised yourself you’d never make. But here you were, crossing one forbidden line after another.

You weren’t exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but you weren’t a pro either. Somehow, though, in thirty minutes flat, four trays of brownies were baking away in Bangchan’s fancy oven. The rest of the kitchen, however, looked like a war zone. Eggshells piled in the sink. Flour scattered across the floor. Chocolate batter smeared on your shirt. Your skirt? A masterpiece of handprints from raw dough. But hey, it was all for the sake of art—and funding.

While you whisked and poured, you couldn’t resist turning on your favorite song, What Is This Feeling from Wicked. Singing along word for word, you hit every high note with a grin. That song had landed you the role of Glinda in high school, and the nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Those were good times. Simpler times.

The chorus was still ringing in your ears as you crouched to scrub a stubborn chocolate stain on the floor. That’s when the door swung open, and Bangchan walked in, freezing mid-step as he surveyed the chaos.

“Holy shit. Are you all right?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you scrambled to turn off the music. In your rush, your phone slipped from your flour-dusted hands and landed on the counter with a soft thud. You straightened, cheeks flushing. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your hands on your already-ruined skirt. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

He looked around, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. His eyes flicked from the chaotic kitchen to you, taking in the state of your clothes. “You’ve got something… there,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the chocolate smear on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll head back to the dorm and clean this up.”

Bangchan tilted his head, clearly unimpressed with your plan. “I can lend you a shirt. Might make you feel more comfortable.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “But thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind his neck and yanked off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and a devilish grin. “Here,” he said, holding the shirt out to you like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “You know you could’ve just grabbed another shirt, right? Like, one you’re not currently wearing?”

He leaned in slightly, the grin widening in a way that made your stomach flip. “And where’s the fun in that?”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered. His shirt hung in the air between you, a silent dare. Finally, you snatched it from his hand, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, unbothered, and strolled over to the counter like he hadn’t just walked into the kitchen half-dressed.

After a few minutes, you walked back into the kitchen, now wearing Bangchan’s shirt. It hung a little loose on you, the soft fabric brushing against your skin and carrying a mix of fresh laundry and whatever cologne he used. Not that you noticed. Much.

Bangchan was at the sink, scrubbing a mixing bowl. His back was to you at first, but when he turned around, his gaze lingered a second too long before he coughed and looked back down. “Did you know,” he started, shaking his head with a teasing grin, “that you’re officially the world’s clumsiest cook? There’s brownie batter... under the sink.”

You glanced at the cabinet beneath the counter, then back at him. “Hey, I said I’d clean up,” you defended, marching into the kitchen with your head held high. “And for the record, I never claimed to be a good cook. I’m just trying to help.”

Bangchan barked out a laugh, drying his hands on a towel. “Help? No fucking way. You’re a disaster, love.”

You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, the oversized sleeves of his shirt only slightly undermining your indignation. “I didn’t see you stepping up to bake anything.. Let’s see you handle a whisk without breaking something.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “Trust me, I’d still be better than whatever chaos you’ve got going on here.”

Your lips quirked into a slow smirk, and you reached for the bag of flour on the counter. “Oh yeah? Well, let’s see you handle this.” Before he could react, you scooped a handful of flour and tossed it right at him, the fine powder exploding across his chest like a smoke bomb.

Bangchan froze for a second, blinking down at the mess. Then, his lips curved into a wicked grin that should have been your warning. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With your hands on your lip, you realized that you had fucked up. “I'm sorry, I...”

Too late. In the blink of an eye, Bangchan scooped up the sugar and poured it all over your hair. You stared, half-shocked, half-impressed by his audacity. You parted your lips to fire back, but before a word could escape, the sound of his laughter erupted from deep in his chest.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna go?” You grabbed the cocoa powder with a grin. Oh, he wanted a war? You were so ready. “Bring it on,” you shot back, face lighting up with mischief. 

You were almost halfway to smearing him with chocolate when his hand shot out and stopped yours midair. The cocoa slipped through your fingers, and just like that, your plan hit the ground.

Then, you collided—chest to chest. Bangchan wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the shift in the air, the heat between you two now undeniable. His lips curled into that damn smirk, the one that told you everything. Your heart was racing, but the thought of pulling away didn’t even cross your mind. The only question now was who was going to make the first move.

A silent battle passed between you two. His gaze locked onto yours, sensing the shift in your expression—less defiant, more... willing. And just like that, the tension morphed into something else, something undeniable.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing his. Bangchan’s breath hitched, a soft grunt escaping him at the sudden contact. Your hands, still coated with the remnants of your baking disaster, slid over his broad shoulders. You were a mess, sugar and flour everywhere, but somehow, it made everything feel a little more real. And Bangchan? He didn’t seem to mind one bit.

All he seemed to care about was having your lips on his. And fuck, you could feel how much he wanted it.

Bangchan grabbed your ass possessively, squeezing it and making a raspy moan escape your lips. You pushed him against the wall, without detaching your lips, savoring how the softness of his lips felt like cotton candy.

When you finally broke away, your chests heaving, your fingers still pressed into his skin, you met his gaze. His chest rose and fell beneath your touch, and you could feel the pull between you intensify again, magnetic.

“I should probably clean up this mess.” your voice broke the tension, but the realization hit harder than it should’ve. Bangchan was clearly fed up with your habit of diving in and then ghosting the consequences. 

“Don’t you dare.” his voice was low, the words like a command you weren’t about to ignore. His eyes locked with yours—intense. “You want this.” his lips brushed against yours, a tease that made your heart leap, while his words hung heavy in the air. “I know you do.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but him.

“Bangchan.” You whispered, barely able to breathe. The heat from his hardness spread like wildfire, and your body seemed to betray you. “We can’t.” you licked your lips—stupid, because he was already there, sealing your protest with a sloppy kiss, stealing that last ounce of restraint.

You were losing it. Why did he have to be so... goddamn good at this?

“Oh yeah?” he pulled away, just enough to make you regret the distance. “Tell me one good reason. Just one.”

You snorted, doing everything you could to hold it together, but the pull between you was undeniable. “Please.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but instead he closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, walking away, but the air between you two still crackled.

The rest of the kitchen cleanup was like some strange form of punishment. You moved in sync, two people acting like they hadn’t just burned down every ounce of decorum in the room. The silence was deafening, the kind of awkward that made you wish you could pull the floor open and swallow you whole. But instead, you just scrubbed harder, hoping it’d drown out the thundering thoughts in your head.

He pulled away, no jokes, no teasing—just silence. It was like a switch had flipped, and the tension that had once sparked between you now lay dormant, suffocating. You didn't know if you hated the quiet or if you hated yourself more for letting things go as far as they had.

When everything was finally done, he still helped you carry your things to the dorm, his touch lingering just a little too long as he adjusted the bag over your shoulder. You were too busy battling the whirlwind of your own thoughts, replaying every moment, every look, and cursing both him and yourself for what you’d just crossed into.

You hated how easy it had been. How natural. And you hated even more that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to regret it—at least, not yet.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik

[jaeyunluvbot]

texting bsf!ni-ki part two

۫ ꣑ৎ best friend ni-ki x fem!reader

part one

masterlist

[scorpieuns]

KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON

summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?

word count: 3.2k

MINORS DNI!!

warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).

A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!

Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.

You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.

Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.

The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one the thrift shops you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.

Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.

Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.

As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.

The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.

Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.

It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.

In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.

Then, there was Sunghoon.

You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.

As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?

The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.

You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.

Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.

You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.

He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.

"How does…kissing feel?"

That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”

You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”

A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”

Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.

“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.

“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.

But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.

His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.

Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?

He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.

Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.

His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.

“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”

“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”

You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”

Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.

To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.

He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”

His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”

“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.

He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”

Right?

You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.

The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.

“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.

Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.

Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?

He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.

“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.

Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.

His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.

Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.

Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.

Oh.

You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.

Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.

You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.

Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.

“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”

“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.

He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.

Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.

Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.

Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.

You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.

He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.

You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.

Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.

His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.

He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.

Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.

You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.

You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.

The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.

His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.

Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.

Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.

Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.

Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.

“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.

Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.

“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.

You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.

All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.

Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.

You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.

He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.

"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.

"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.

[viqlentas]

這一切都是一場夢，我希望我不要醒來

𓊌͟ ͟ ͟ ͏ ͟ ͟ ͏ ⠀ ･ﾟﾟ･｡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ▗▬̸̎͞/̄͆̅ ̎ ̎̿͞͞͞͞͞͞͞͞ι̚━─ㅤ ☕