A Happy Coincidence

a happy coincidence 💬😉

wrong number...

group: stray kids !

pairing: neighbor!han jisung x f!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive + allusions to sex (MDNI)

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, jisung is referred to as hannie, ji, sungie, highly suggestive scene, jisung is a barista. MDNI

authors note: this scenario is such a jisung thing to do i cant even lie. again, minors please do not interact with this post as it is highly suggestive. this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 3102

“oh you’re so dead”

you and jisung have been playing a new game that came out two days ago. you’re in a 1v1 right now, but ji keeps playing sneaky.

“stop hiding, i wanna actually fight you”

he slowly crouches towards your avatar, quickly pulling out his sword and attacking you at the speed of light. you couldn’t even land a single hit on him because it was knocking you so far back. you decided to accept your fate, respawning seconds later.

“next time we’re fighting face to face. it’s unfair if you sneak up on me”, you say with a fake pout.

jisung tries to ignore what that adorable pout of yours does to him, but it just looks too adorable to think about anything else. “ughh fineee”, he whines.

you two make your way to the kitchen, preparing the ramen you had just bought the day before. you made sure to buy the regular version for jisung though, he’s pretty bad with spicy food.

once you finish making it, you hand it to jisung and sit down on the couch to watch a new kdrama. it wasn’t uncommon to do this with jisung. it’s become a weekly routine, and it’s just what you need after a long week at work. 

friends always hang out like this, right?

you walk into the coffee shop right after work. you’re so glad it’s right next to your home. in your personal opinion, no coffee shop will ever compare to this one. maybe it’s because of the coffee, maybe it’s because of the incredibly hot barista.

“your usual?”, jisung asks you as you walk in. “obviously”, you roll your eyes. you grab your drink once it’s done and pull out your laptop, catching up on some more work. 

jisung loves when you come to the shop, it’s his favorite time of his shifts. he admires how hardworking you are, coming into a coffee shop to work right after you finished your shift. 

he finds it adorable how your eyebrows pinch together while you’re working. he loves the color of your rosy lips and-

“jisung!”, he was shaken out of his thoughts by an annoyed jeongin. he jerks his head towards jeongin now, a little confused as to what happened.

“what?”, ji asks. “just tell her you like her at this point man”, jeongin complains.

“what do you mean?”

“you like her don’t you? you’re always staring at her when she’s here”

“no she’s just my friend! absolutely not. heh… no. maybe…”

jeongin is unamused. “you totally like her, you’re just in denial dumbass”

jisung rolls his eyes and gets back to work. maybe he does like you, he’s not sure yet. it’s not okay to like your best friend, he knows that, but the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks he truly does like you.

it’s just a stupid crush. he’ll get over it eventually.

on nights like these, you’re so lucky to have jisung as your next door neighbor. at this rate, you’re practically getting white girl wasted at every party. jisung’s always brought you home after these functions. 

maybe that’s why you like him so much. he’s so caring and kind towards everyone, not to mention he’s gorgeous and- wait. what are you even talking about? you don’t like him, you can’t. he’s your best friend, that’s all he’ll ever be.

that’s all you tell yourself as jisung drives you home. he always stays sober at parties, making sure he can drive you home after a hectic night. 

you get out of the car once you arrive home, stumbling all over the place. you’re glad jisung’s always there to hold you. 

he walks you into your home, making sure you’re safe before leaving.

“no! stay.”, you yell a little louder than you wanted to.

he chuckles at your eagerness. “just let me get changed, we can watch a movie yeah?”

you smile at him and let him get ready, stumbling your way to your room. you begin to wriggle out of your clothes, the material already riding up your thighs. 

you try to pull it up, but your arms are facing upwards in the air. you try to loosen it and wiggle around a little, but it won’t budge. 

shit. you’re stuck.

what’s even worse it that the sequins start scratching your face, and you are certain most have cut you. you can feel them digging into your skin, crying out in pain.

not too long after, jisung makes his way into your house. he calls out for you, “y/n? you ready yet?”

“ji! i need help”, you yell back.

he quickly makes it to your room and opens the door, “what’s wro- OH GOSH”. he quickly covers his eyes. 

“i’m stuck in my dress, i can’t get it off”, you whine, “i think the sequins are cutting me, please help”

he makes his way over to you, closing his eyes and pulling the dress off you. he didn’t want to freak you out, so he turned around and sat on your bed while he waited for you. 

you finish getting ready for the movie, wearing a simple t-shirt and some shorts. “i’m ready now”

he turned around, noticing your cuts instantly. he quickly runs to the bathroom and grabs a couple of bandaids. cleaning your arms up with a couple of alcohol wipes, he patches them up. 

“thank you sungieeee”, you beam at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. he didn’t want to admit what that nickname just did to him.

you both got up to go and watch a couple episodes of that one kdrama, bringing a bunch of snacks with you. late night binging was the best with jisung, he always knew how to entertain you for hours.

it was getting later into the night, and you could feel sleep knocking at your door. you really wanted to finish the episode, but you couldn’t keep yourself up long enough. 

jisung smiles at your sleeping figure, carefully taking the snacks from your hands and placing them on the table. 

he gets up to leave, but you stop him. youre subconsciously clinging onto his arm, preventing him from leaving. he doesn’t want to wake you, so he just lets sleep take over his body too. 

he couldn’t get over how domestic it seemed, maybe he did like you…

jisung woke up that day not only to you cuddling him, but to you entirely straddling him. he couldn’t get up, so he decided to wait till you woke up. your face was comfortably buried in his neck, and he hoped you couldn’t hear the erratic beating of his heart.

you slowly awake from your slumber to see jisung fast asleep. you examined his features, silently laughing to yourself at the way his cheeks puffed up with every breath. just then did you realize what you were doing.

embarrassed, you tried to get off jisung as quietly as possible, making sure not to wake him. after all, you didn’t want any awkward moments. you were hesitant to leave, his body was emitting some kind of warmth you had. never felt before, but you carefully got off and sat next to him.

jisung tried his best to keep the act up, he didn’t want you to be embarrassed, so he continued to “sleep” for a little while after you got up. 

while waiting for him, you start making breakfast. you quickly dump some rice in the pan and crack two eggs, when you hear footsteps behind you.

“good morning sleepyhead”, you teased. “morning…”

you were almost frozen in shock. you loved his voice the way it was, calming and soft, but something about his morning voice made your heart flutter.

you finish preparing breakfast and eat together. both of you play a couple matches of that new game and jisung leaves shortly after. you start to think back to this morning again, you’re glad he was still asleep. 

or so you thought.

“jeongin please what do i do?!” 

jisung was pacing his room. he’s never felt this way about someone before, and it seems that his feelings are only getting stronger.

“just tell her oh my gosh, it’s obvious she likes you back”

no. that can’t be. you’re just friends, right? you’ve never showed any different type of affection towards him. you couldn’t possibly like him, not the way he liked you.

“no jeongin, she doesn’t like me. not at all. not like that…”

jeongin frowned at him. it was difficult seeing his best friend like this, but it was also kind of funny watching his friend fall desperately in love.

“you both have heart eyes when you look at eachother, it makes me sick”

jisung stops in his tracks. “heart eyes…?”. his mind is too hazy to think right now. what if you truly don’t like him. should he even confess to you? would it be worth possibly ruining your friendship for?

“dude, you have to tell her. i know how you feel ji, you just need to tell her that. i’m sure she’ll understand, i can tell she really likes you.”

“well you don’t even know her- she’s different with me”, he pouts. 

“well i see the way she looks at you, and the smile on her face when she’s with you. her smile practically reaches her eyes when you hand her order to her. she doesn’t do that with me, ji”

jisung’s mind starts to run faster. ‘maybe she does like me’, ‘maybe shes just being friendly’, ‘she can’t possibly love someone like me’

“jeongin…”, he trails off.

jeongin sits jisung down and puts a hand on his shoulder. “hey, talk to me… what’s up?”

“jeongin i think im in love with her”

jeongin’s eyes widen. “you’re in love…?”

“i think so, i really do. i’m sorry im ranting about this because it’s super sappy but i genuinely think i love her. i love every single thing about her jeongin… she even has a special nickname for me!”

jeongin laughs at his comment. “awww how cute”, he teased. “shut up.”

jisung didn’t know how to confess. he really wanted to but he didn’t want to ruin those special saturdays he had with you. things would just be awkward. 

friends or lovers… he just wants you with him.

you’re spending yet another day after work in the coffee shop, trying your best to get things done but you’re too distracted. jisung’s off his shift but he’s still sat next to you with a book in his hands, waiting till you finish your work.

he sees jeongin playfully raising his eyebrows and responds to his teasing with a stern look. jeongin just laughs it off and continues working.

you can’t seem to focus on work, it’s getting too boring. instead, you’re busy staring at jisung’s face. the way his lips form a little pout when he’s focused on reading, his nose scrunching a little and eyes squinting as he tries to read the small text. 

it’s been difficult to admit it to yourself, but you’re starting to realize you feel different towards jisung. recently, you’ve been seeing him as something more than just a friend. you think you might really love him.

you know it’s not right, but it’s not like you can control your feelings like that. he’s so attentive with you, so caring and understanding, you’d be a fool to not love someone like him. you wondered if he felt the same way. probably not, you decided you wouldn’t feed your delusions with the thought.

you smile at him, examining his gorgeous features. jeongin’s looking at you, smiling to himself, but you don’t seem to notice.

you don’t think you could ever get bored of jisung.

you’re in bed, and you can’t seem to fall asleep. it’s almost four in the morning, but your mind is running. 

does jisung even love you back? there’s no way he wants someone like you right? you’re not even that special. you don’t even look or act anything like his type, you’re certain he just thinks of you as a friend.

your thoughts get worse, and you seem to be overthinking every single thing. you’re almost about to cry when you hear your phone blowing up. 

you check your phone ‘hannie <3’, it reads. what would jisung be texting you for at four in the morning?

hannie <3: jeongin i love y/n

hannie <3: like i actually do

hannie <3: im not even questioning it anymore, i actually love her

hannie <3: how can i even bring this up to her

hannie <3: fuck what do i do

hannie <3: wake up pls i need help

holy shit. jisung loves you back? and jeongin knew about it? you feel betrayed that jeongin didn’t hint at it, but you’re ecstatic.

jisung. loves. you. back.

it’s not all in your head. you’re not delusional. he loves you. and you love him.

y/n: well why don’t you just tell her?

hannie <3: oh thank god you’re up

hannie <3: how do i even tell her? i don’t know what to say

y/n: well, first off all, list some things off that you love about her

you’ll admit it’s really evil what you’re doing right now, but you can’t help it. this is your chance to get him back after the countless pranks he’s pulled on you. 

hannie <3: okay well i really like her eyes

hannie <3: and her lips look super super soft and so pretty

hannie <3: sorry that sounds really weird

hannie <3: and i really love her hands

hannie <3: they’re super warm

hannie <3: and holy shit her fucking voice

hannie <3: it’s so hot you don’t even understand 

hot? you didn’t really think anything about you was hot in any way. you took jisung’s word for it anyways.

y/n: then just tell her how you feel man, it shouldn’t be that hard

you add more attitude in your texts to make it seem believable. you’re surprised jisung hasn’t noticed that he’s texting the wrong person yet. you decide to finally drop the act.

y/n: just text her, tell her how you feel. it’s less heartbreaking that way if you get rejected because you don’t have to face her.

hannie <3: omg you’re so right, lemme text her rq

a moment of silence…

that moment turns into almost three minutes now

jisung’s panicking. his heart is beating a hundred times per second and he doesn’t know what to do. what if he creeped you out? what if you thought it was funny? what if you treated it like a joke? maybe that would be better… maybe he could just play it off. 

you quickly get out of bed. you feel terrible for doing that to jisung, but you still wanted him to have some closure. you don’t bother to change, you just brush your hair a bit and make your way to his door.

knocking on his door, you wait there for a couple seconds before you hear footsteps.

jisung checks through the peephole, his heart dropping to his stomach. he has to face you now, it’s inevitable. he’s preparing himself for rejection.

he slowly opens the door. “hey…”. he’s looking down, face red with embarrassment. he can’t seem to look at you.

“sungie…”

he jerks his head up at the usage of his favorite nickname. “hm?”

“can i come in?”

he opens the door a little more to let you inside. then closes it behind you. he turns around slowly, scared for the words you’re about to say.

instead, you don’t say anything. you pin him against the door, stealing his lips in an electrifying kiss. you weren’t thinking, but you let your emotions take over.

his muscles tensed under your touch, not yet used to this different sensation. he kisses you back with just as much desire, tongues clashing. butterflies erupt in your stomach, you were stupid to not confess before.

you slowly begin to pull away from him, foreheads still touching. you’re breathing heavily into his lips, and he’s looking at you with pure love in his eyes. 

“did we… really just do that?”, he asks breathlessly.

you nod quickly, thinking of what to say next. “i love you jisung. i love you so much you don’t even understand.” 

his knees wobble under him and he tries to think of a response. “i love you so much more, y/n”, he says, pulling you closer so that your chests are now touching. 

“i don’t think that’s possible, baby”

his eyes widen at the pet name, heart thumping louder in his chest. he hopes you can’t hear it.

he kisses you again, this time flipping you around and leading you to his bedroom. he pecks your lips again, then your cheeks, and starts trailing lower to your jaw. 

you tilt your head back to give jisung easier access, letting out soft gasps as he trails open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pushing you onto his bed. you put your hand on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

“i love you so much y/n”, he whispered between kisses. he pulled down the collar of your shirt, placing kisses onto the exposed skin. the feeling is addicting, definitely something you could both get used to.

his hands trailed down to your waist, lifting up your shirt slightly. he looked up at you, as if to ask for permission, to which you nodded. 

jisung made love to you the rest of that night, holding your hand the entire time and bursting into adorable smiles and giggles every so often.

you walked into the cafe a day later and began working again like you always do. 

jisung was busy staring at you again, extremely pleased that he could stare at his girlfriend without the fear of getting caught. 

“jisung, holy shit”, a lump forms in jeongin’s throat as he notices something different about you.

jisung turns his head towards him, “what’s up?”

jeongin puts a hand on jisung’s shoulder, figuring how to word his next sentence so his best friend doesn’t start panicking again. “is that a hickey on y/n’s neck…”

jisung’s eyes widen and he starts to go bright red, staring at the the crimson colored splotches and bite marks adorning your neck. 

you get distracted staring at jisung again, who’s whispering something to jeongin. you quickly get back to work not too long after, when your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a loud yell.

“YOU GUYS DID WHAT?!”

<3

the intricacies of falling in love, and facing the reality of life 🥹💖

title: the times we couldn't say goodbye (the times i loved you most)

pairing: hoshi x gn!reader

wc: 2.2k

notes: fantasy!au, wizard hoshi!au, established relationship, implied friends to lovers, fluff, (pretty significant) angst, suggestive content but nothing explicit, small blood mention, special thanks to @soonsluv and @crimsoncauldron for helping me with edits!

for @neonun-au

i.

It’s in the garden behind the inn where you realize you're really in love with Soonyoung.

He’s eighteen, radiant with the glow of youth and the summer sun, long legs askew underneath the now sprawling wisteria you planted with him as a child. The daylight is emerald through the foliage, and you watch it coalesce in his butterscotch eyes, fall into the gentle slope of his nose.

Your bones feel warm and heavy with happiness. Soonyoung’s head rests in your lap, and he meets your gaze with his usual affection, the overabundant kind that feels like you can hold in your hands with how tangible it is.

“When will you come back?” you ask.

He takes a long pause. It worries you because Soonyoung’s never the type to pause. He goes, he goes and keeps going until he can’t anymore. You're surprised he's stayed so long in one place—here.

"I don't know." He laughs blithely and finds your hand so he can lace his fingers with yours. "I haven't thought that far ahead," he admits.

Then he does that insufferable, maddening thing where he trails little kisses down the span of your wrist, up your forearm, across the back of your hand, his touch featherlight, yet deliberate. You wonder if he's mapping your skin as to not forget you when he leaves.

"All I know is that I need to be there."

You don't need to follow his gaze to know where he's looking—the tall silvery spires past the village, an imposing silhouette of the royal castle of the kingdom you live in.

He doesn't say that people usually don't come back when they leave for the city. You already know that one, too.

And, in turn, you stay quiet. You've learned that words aren't enough to change his mind, which, funnily enough, is why you like him so much.

Instead, you let the swell of love wash over you, a heady, slow rush that spreads over your skin like sun (yet, tender like a bruise) as you let yourself admire him.

You want to love him without expectation, without pretense. But it's hard to separate expectation from love, even for someone like you, whose job it is to watch people come and go.

Because as weighty as Soonyoung's love can be, you know how hard it is to keep. And so you sit, limbs tangled, watching the firebugs pulse with their transient June light, knowing this moment, too, will pass.

You feel the warmth of Soonyoung's laughter settle over you, as certain and familiar as ever. You allow his wandering hands as they press little lights into your skin, and let the heat of his skin play back on yours.

With him, there's never been a forever and always. You chase the now, but in the now, you have him and his lips and his racing heartbeat all to yourself.

And some young, foolish part of you thinks it's a moment you can bottle up and keep. That the closer you hold it to your heart, the more likely he is to stay.

ii.

The first time you learned Soonyoung could use magic, you were thirteen.

You had been demonstrating a perfect cartwheel to him—on the bartop inside the inn, of course. And, in your vain attempt to avoid the smattering of ale steins and assorted weapons in your way, you had careened off the counter and given yourself a nasty scrape on the jagged floorboards.

You had both laughed until you cried, and then when Soonyoung realized you were actually crying, he rushed over with a heartrending urgency.

"S'fine," you mumbled, your adolescent body feeling all too big, too awkward under his gaze.

He offered his hand to help, and being the stubborn kid you were, you denied him. And he whined and fussed until you finally let him kneel down and look at the thin gash, now weeping blood.

You can't even describe what happened next. The patient hover of his usually quick hands over your skin, then an indescribable warmth all over.

And then your knee was healed.

Over the next few years, you watched Soonyoung experiment with his powers.

He'd call your name on his way back from the market, waving his free hand around while balancing a bag of produce in the cradle of his other arm.

"Watch this!" And then a vortex of apples would emerge from the burlap, first a magnificent crimson swirl, and then their eventual pathetic scatter over the grass in front of the inn.

"Almost there," he'd mutter, as you both gather the fruits in your arms, everything and everyone feeling a bit bruised.

Sometimes you'd watch the gap underneath his door intermittently light up as you cleaned the inn for the night. You pictured his cute frown, nose scrunched up as he flexed his palm. Orange, black, orange, black, orange, the weak flicker of the flame birthed from his skin.

You wouldn't say Soonyoung was a good magician. But he certainly was a tenuous one with a considerable stroke of luck.

Before he left, he would show you little tricks.

"I’m paying my rent," he'd harumph, staring intently at the unbaked pie you left on the counter, as if willing it to cook itself. "With my valuable labor."

"You better pay faster." You cast a sidelong glance at the disgruntled mercenary in the corner of the dining room.

"Don't worry about Jihoon. He's my friend." And then another hopelessly determined glare at the innocent, perfectly latticed pie.

Soonyoung's eventual contribution was a quick brûlée over the top after cajoling the poor starving warrior, entertaining him with the surprisingly effective party trick of producing a real bit of fool's gold behind his ear. ("See? We're friends!" he'd tell you.)

"Can these hands at least chop some wood?" you'd tease. They fit so perfectly in your own, something you learned you could, no, would miss.

"Yes," he'd start. "But they can also do this!" And then their warm descent on your sides, tickling you until you collapsed right into him, letting him drink up the laughter right from your lips.

When you first met Soonyoung, he was a small, impish little thing who had turned up at the front door of the inn—on an adventure, he said.

He stayed ever since, learning to run the inn with you.

But you'd see the glow of his eyes as yet another traveler regaled him with tales of an expedition in kingdoms past. You knew you couldn't tie him here. You felt lucky to even have the luxury to hold him as you slept, to have him tie your apron behind your back every day and to dance with you and the broom as you swept the floor ("I think I prefer the broom," you'd say, just to see him pout. And like clockwork, he would, and you'd kiss him, and kiss and kiss and kiss).

Now, he packs his bags to study magic in the royal city.

You feel the heavy sway of your heart in the pit of your chest. You've watched many adventurers go, but for some reason, you could never bring yourself to prepare for this moment.

He sits amidst a small disaster in your shared room. "Don't forget your lucky tiger," you remind him, leaning against the doorframe. It's a shitty, dilapidated little thing you sewed together for one of his birthdays. But he kept it, and for someone who loses a lot of things, that certainly was a special feat.

"How could I?" He holds an offended hand to his chest and kisses the bundle of threads, and you feel like bursting into a million tears.

He blows you a kiss at the doorstep.

"Not a real one, because that's for when I come back," he says.

How soon is when? You want to ask. You think of that heat-stained afternoon in the garden, where you crossed hands and hearts but your mind was a million miles away. I don't know was a hell of an answer to hold onto, but he didn't give you much of an option.

Soonyoung lingers at the doorstep. You wonder if he expects you to find another reason to stop him.

Instead, you watch him disappear down the sandy bend of the road, going, going, gone. The lonely dance of the innkeeper, the choreographed parting you had grown accustomed to.

Your life has been a series of goodbyes, but this one, just this once, dies on your tongue.

iii.

It's at the end of a grueling, mind-numbing day—every spring, the traveling mercenaries migrate to the royal kingdom, your small inn a pit stop on the way—when you see Soonyoung for the first time in years.

You're at the faraway market, the one in the royal city, to pick up supplies.

He's taller, broader. He walks with a certainty in his step, one that's forgotten when he runs to you with abandon.

Soonyoung sweeps you up, as easily as ever, hands firm around your waist to lift you so your faces are level. He's stronger, too.

"Soonyoung," you breathe, giddy. His lips find your neck; he's kissing, giggling, breathing you back in. "What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to ask you the same." He grins, all lopsided and toothy, and your heart balloons to some inhuman size. "I live here, you know."

"But your letters—thought the magic school wouldn't let you leave."

"I snuck out," he says, pressing his forehead to yours. "Wanted to come home. See you."

Home. Home. You roll the word around in your head. Soonyoung never called the inn home; he always wanted to be everywhere at once, and yet something kept him there. The thought that it was you presses against your ribs, a crushing swell of guilt and joy all in one.

"Watch," he says, still as exuberant as ever. And even before you roll your eyes, he's insistent—"I'm good now, I promise!"

Protection magic, he calls it. A force field. He's come a long way from a flame barely able to cook an egg.

"It's like you're untouchable," you laugh, pressing the flat of your palm over the shimmering plane before Soonyoung's hand, feeling it pulse against you like a magnet.

"Almost." And then the pressure's gone, replaced by the warm callouses of his skin on yours as the magic dissipates. "Never for you."

And again, you think about how uncanny it is that you and Soonyoung fell in love—the dutiful innkeeper and the restless adventurer.

Who, but you, would he ever let touch him?

It's then you remember how Soonyoung's hand has always fit perfectly in yours.

—

Soonyoung accompanies you back to the inn—"They won't miss me for a night," he had said.

And so you're back in the garden, sitting shoulder to shoulder under the ivy and magnolias.

Although it's been years, his presence grounds you. Everything from the way he squeezes your hand when he talks, the glimmer in his eyes, how he steals a kiss mid-conversation brings you back to when you fell in love all those years ago.

But nothing could have prepared you for when Soonyoung asks you to live with him in the royal city.

He had been asked to join the mages' court at the palace, a permanent, demanding position. That was the real reason he wanted to see you, he tells you.

"Let Mingyu take over. You know he wants to!" Soonyoung laughs like it's a joke. "Come, make a new home with me. I'll cook the pies. The right way, I promise." His smile is dazzling and heartbreaking at the same time.

You replay the moment he told you he returned because he wanted to come home—to you.

How could you tell him that your real home was here, at the inn? In the roots of the wisteria, in the battered floorboards of the dining room, in the bag of produce you get from the market every morning?

"I—" you start. It tumbles out of your mouth, shredded and broken. "I can't. You know I can't."

He's silent. You think it's because he expected this outcome, that it couldn't be any other way, that you both knew this, innately, the night he first told you he was leaving.

You don't look at each other.

The moon is violet. The sky is black. There are no stars tonight.

And as if piercing a great big divide, he reaches for your hand, the habit now a lifeline as the weight of the moment settles into you.

"But I’ll have you for tonight?" Soonyoung turns to look at you. His eyes are shimmery, earnest.

If you could silence the roar in your head, in your chest, you would instead feel the pressure of an invisible clock, counting the seconds you have left together. You both know you're on borrowed time.

"Soonyoung." Your face is so hot, you aren't sure if you're crying or not. "You'll have me for as long as you want me."

"Silly," he murmurs. "I'll always want you." Your noses are touching; he holds your gaze so you don't see the sadness in his smile. But you already know what he's feeling, the heavy twist of acceptance settling in the both of your stomachs.

It's always been this way with you two—you don't have to see him to know his heart.

And maybe it's this knowledge that guides your hands, your lips, when you trace him into memory on this starless night.

It's another postponed goodbye, you know it is, a prolonged farewell you began years ago but could not bring yourself to end.

You go through the motions in your head, the phantom parting, your eventual final meeting.

But it's something you both accept. Tonight is just another push of the hands of the clock. Another stolen moment.

When Soonyoung kisses your lips with the tenderness of all the years he's loved you, your heart falls right into his hands.

What you have with him isn't forever, but it's something.

This is a goodbye you're willing to wait for.

✨ back-again with this gem ✨. chenle’s a loveable lil-shit 😂

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

Keep reading

that sinking feeling, of the “you knew before it started”, aka, friendship shifted 😭

⌗ ⸰ ₊⠀ BITTERSWEET !

the one where you and mingyu kiss, but there’s regret after the two of you do.

pairing: mingyu x (f)reader

word count: 0.9k

rating: pg-15

content: ANGST!!!!!!, pining, implied unrequited love; ft. close friend!mingyu

warning/s: profanities, reader is treated like a rebound, mingyu and reader are drunk, sad ending :(

You can tell that he knows it was a mistake the moment he breaks away from the kiss, lips parted before it transforms into a frown, his eyebrows knitting in what seemed like confusion until he fixes his gaze on yours, catching you already looking at his disappointed expression.

“____,” he utters your name slowly, still in disbelief of what just happened, “I’m sorry. That… that—I don’t know why I just—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, preventing him from saying anything that’ll make your heart break into tinier pieces. “I get it. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight.”

He doesn’t say anything to correct your statement. He just backs away from where he has you caged sitting on the kitchen counter, a heavy sigh escaping him while his hands run through his hair. From those gestures alone, it seems that he’s having a quick replay of events and that he’s slowly getting out of his intoxicated state, regret washing over him this instance.

You don’t say anything more in return either. You only remain there on your spot, the burning sensation on your mouth still present despite the reason for its existence no longer being there. You have this sudden urge to touch your lips because of it, to feel where Mingyu’s lips were seconds ago—where his tongue even glided on when he got carried away and went ahead of himself. But you resist the desire to do so, not wanting him to be aware of how this truly affected you which can make him think of this as a bigger deal than he already does.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters under his breath. “Holy shit. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine,” you say, hopping off from your place.

“It’s not.” He looks at you again, though he turns away almost immediately afterwards, perhaps out of guilt. “I just… I just kissed you. I kissed you all of the sudden for fuck’s sake—and because of what? Because I was sad that my ex found someone else? It’s a dick move.”

“It’s fine, Mingyu.”

“It’s not,” he snaps. “Friends don’t pull that shit on each other, you know.”

Your insides churn. Or maybe that’s just the last pieces of your heart finally crashing down from its station inside your ribcage. Whatever it is, you opt to joke a bit in an attempt to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I know, but I’d appreciate it if you stop treating me like some kind of a virgin who hasn’t been touched before. You’re not the first guy to kiss me out of the blue quite frankly.”

He doesn’t look amused by it. “____…”

“It’s fine,” you repeat for the third time that night, even if it really isn’t. “Like I said, you weren’t thinking straight. Don’t make an issue out of nothing.”

“This isn’t nothing. You should be mad at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You should.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. Maybe.”

“And you look like you’re not.”

“Yeah, maybe not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. Perhaps I’ve always wanted to experience what it was like to kiss you, that’s why. “I mean, it’s partially my fault too. I didn’t stop you. I’m a little drunk myself.” You half heartedly chuckle.

Mingyu stares at you, and you know he’s doing it because he’s trying to read your mind. He doesn’t know how to be subtle whenever he attempts to decipher whatever goes around in your head, since most of the time, you’re able to conceal what you feel excellently to the point you don’t even have to try too hard as well. You just have to keep a straight or casual face, and then that’s it—totally unnoticeable.

“I’m sorry,” he only apologizes again and you close my eyes, smiling as you sigh.

“Stop apologizing. Please. You’re going to make me feel bad.”

“You can’t just—”

“Let’s just forget about it.” You cut him off. “Just treat this as a nightmare or whatever. I don’t care. I just need you to stop saying sorry, Mingyu.”

He takes a deep breath, and finally nods, stepping farther away from you that gives you the space you didn’t know you needed in order to feel calmer.

“Anyways,” you start again, “I think it’s best that I go.”

He meets your eyes. “I… I think you’re right.”

“Good. At least we’re on the same page with that one.”

You’re certain that you’re forgetting a few of your belongings (a jacket and an umbrella) in Mingyu’s unit that you don’t bother finding. You just snatch your bag from the couch and stand there in the living room for a few seconds before looking back at Mingyu who never followed you there and instead stayed in the kitchen, just staring at you as you got your things.

You don’t know what to say to properly express your farewell, so you just ask him a question you already know the answer to. “You’re going to Jeonghan’s birthday celebration, right?”

He decides to walk towards you this time, but only to head to the door so he can open it for you. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Guess I’ll see you then.”

You don’t wait for him to reply. You just march straight to the hall outside, not turning back and letting the heavy feeling in your chest escape in the form of rapid tears and a muffled sound.

thank you for reading ! feedback is always appreciated ☻

⌗ ⸰ ₊⠀ all rights reserved. no part of my work is to be reposted / translated / used in any kind of platform without my permission. i only use this account to post fics.

awkward Jun is so endearing, oh goodness 🥹💘

• read the prequel cause it’s absolutely adorable, awkward jun is just so cute

match of the season

member  |  college student radio host!junhui x fem student!reader genre  |  smut, fluff, humor word count  |  ~7,300 warnings  |  virgin!jun, shy clueless jun, fr that man does not know a single thing but it's endearing in a silly way, top!reader bot!jun (but no real dom/sub dynamics, more like reader leads until jun figures out how to take over), unprotected sex, jun big cock agenda, VOICE KINK (listen. you all knew it was coming), so much dirty talk, lots of consent bc it is very sexy, riding, little bit of dry humping?, mentions of an iud/birth control, jun is implied taller than reader (maybe size kink but only if you take it that way), jeonghan cameo and he's a menace, lots of fluff at the end (but also kinda throughout), please lmk if i missed any warnings! notes  |  this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called sounds of the season, which is part of my series of winter-themed fics! if you haven't already, i would highly recommend reading that before reading this, since the stories are pretty closely connected. thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i hope you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first part. also like i said in part 1 i have no idea how radio works so if it doesn't make sense just roll with it lmao

you’re just putting the last finishing touches on your final paper when your phone buzzes. you glance down, grinning when you see junhui’s name on the screen.

unable to hide the butterflies in your stomach, you press a button to accept the call. “hi, junnie.”

“oh! hi,” his voice plays through your speaker with a giggle. “hey, i like that. ‘junnie’. do you want a nickname? but your name is so pretty, i don’t wanna change it–”

“whatever you want is fine,” you say, trying to hold back a smile. god, he’s cute.

“okay. i’ll think about it. oh, wait, yeah!” he says suddenly, as if he’s just remembered why he’s calling. “jeonghan left town early this week so it’s just me in the studio today, and it’s our last show of the semester. so anyway, do you wanna come over?” he stops, stumbling over his words. “well, not like, come over come over, i mean, we can just hang out, i–”

“give me half an hour,” you laugh, endeared by his eagerness.

“yay!” he cheers, and you shake your head with a smile.

half an hour later, a text pops up on jun’s phone, alerting him that you’re waiting outside the building. he leaps out of his chair, an excited grin on his face as he flings open the door and dashes downstairs to let you in.

he’s out of breath by the time he reaches the communications lab door, leaning on the push bar to let you in. “sorry, forgot they locked it already,” he pants.

“it’s fine,” you giggle. “so… everyone else is gone?”

he nods. “yeah, mr. choi said as long as i don’t mess with anything he’ll let me close by myself, so they all left early for break.”

you smile and hold out your hand for him to take, and he beams, hastily grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

he leads you up the stairs to the sound booth, squeezing your hand the whole way.

it’s your second time being in the school’s recording studio, but the feeling is still new and exciting. you definitely understand now what jun meant when he said being around all the equipment is a lot of fun.

once inside, he shuts the heavy door with a click, locking the door and flipping on the “on air” light. not that anyone could get in anyway, but it’s a habit he doesn’t want to accidentally get out of before he comes back next semester.

he slides in front of the computer for a second, queueing another song so he has more time to grab what he’s designated as “your chair”; the comfiest one in the studio, according to him.

he pulls it over next to his chair and pats the cushion for you to sit. you giggle and plop down on the seat, scooching closer to him once he’s sat in his own chair.

he raises his eyebrows at you with a grin, then clears his throat and moves closer to the microphone as the song ends to do his job.

ever since you accidentally admitted to him that you like the way his voice sounds, he’s teased you about it—or at least, attempted to tease you about it. he's too sweet for his own good, so even when he tries to poke fun at you it comes out like a compliment.

he presses the red button and begins to talk. “that was one of the classics, ‘a holly jolly christmas’ by burl ives. coming up next, another favorite, ‘the christmas song’ by michael bublé, and more great songs on your favorite program: 111.7fm’s sounds of the season.”

he lets go of the button and sits back in his chair, spinning it around to face you as the slow music starts softly playing. “hi,” he says shyly. “did you like that?”

you smile. it’s a little bit of an odd question, but you’ve started to understand his awkwardness; he just needs a little encouragement. “i always like it. you’re really good at this.”

“i like it a lot,” he grins back, bouncing his head in excitement. “can i kiss you now?”

you laugh at his enthusiasm but nod, leaning forward to press your lips to his. he sighs into your mouth, his hands falling naturally to your waist. for supposedly not going out much, jun is really, really good at kissing, you’ve quickly learned over the last few days. how he got so good at it, you may never know, but the feeling of him pressed against you is too perfect to waste time questioning why.

despite being surrounded by the cold, metal recording equipment, the sound of michael bublé’s crooning voice and the gentle warmth of junhui’s lips makes the studio feel like the coziest place on earth.

his hands tug at your waist and you slide easily out of your chair and onto his lap, sitting sideways across his legs, never breaking the kiss.

he pulls away for a second, his cheeks dusted with pink. “let me… put the playlist on,” he says, his voice a little breathier than usual. 

you hum in confusion, attention still focused on the curve of his lips and the little noises he makes when he’s kissing you. “what playlist?”

he laughs. “for the show. so we can keep doing… this, and not have to worry.”

“wait, so you mean, not all of it is live?”

he shakes his head. “almost all of it is, but there’s a backup playlist in case we get busy and can’t sit around pressing buttons for the whole hour. i used it a couple weeks ago when i had to finish my chem paper.”

he spins the chair around, facing you both in front of the computer screen and tapping a few buttons on the keyboard. he turns a dial on the soundboard and the background music in the studio gets lower, so quiet you need to strain to hear it.

he hums, and your attention turns away from the machinery and back to his eager smile.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks softly.

you giggle and put your hands around his neck. “you don’t have to ask every time.”

so he’s pushing his lips on yours again, kissing you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.

and that’s when you feel it. the butterflies deep in your stomach that make you want to do things no person should be doing in a school building.

he pulls away for a second to catch his breath. “you’re so pretty,” he says dreamily, and you hate the way it immediately sends shivers down your spine, landing directly at your core. 

you hold back a whimper and shift the way you’re sitting, moving so each leg is on either side of his legs, straddling his lap.

he pushes his mouth against yours, hands gently kneading your hips. your fingers dance beneath the bottom of his shirt, fingernails gliding over the warm, soft skin of his stomach and feeling his abs contract at your touch.

“wait,” he whimpers, and you pull back immediately, taking your hands off of him and putting them on your thighs.

“do you want me to stop?” you ask quietly. shit, you hope you haven’t completely ruined this by going too fast.

“no!” he nearly shouts, looking panicked, then clears his throat. “no,” he repeats. “i don’t want you to stop. i’m, just…” he trails off, avoiding your gaze.

“you can tell me, junnie,” you say gingerly, wanting him to be comfortable.

“i know,” he whines. “i’m… embarrassed,” he says, voice small.

“i’m not going to laugh at you,” you say softly.

“i’m not– i haven’t–” he freezes. you give him a small smile that you hope looks encouraging, and it must be, because he sighs and starts again. “i’m a… virgin,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“oh! that’s all?” you ask, taking his hand and threading your fingers in between his. he looks up at you, trying (and failing) to hide the surprise in his expression. “you don’t need to be embarrassed. everybody has a first time.”

you pause, not wanting to force him into doing this if he really isn’t ready. you don’t care, you have plenty of ways of getting yourself off if he wants to wait longer. because you are willing to wait. “we don’t have to now, junnie,” you say. “i’ll wait as long as you want me to.”

“i want to now,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “i just… don’t know what to do,” he mumbles.

“that’s fine,” you whisper, bringing your other hand up to his face and kissing his cheek tenderly. “we’ll go slow, and you tell me what you want.”

he hesitates, then tentatively places his hands on your waist, still holding your hands. “i want to kiss you again.”

you smile. “i can do that.”

and you lean back in, pressing your lips to his. gently at first, until he grips your waist a little harder and starts kissing you a little deeper. you let him get used to it, allowing him to set the pace he wants.

testing the waters, you push down on his lap a little, starting to grind lightly on his crotch. he whimpers and tugs at your hips to help you, beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. 

you stay like this for a while, leisurely making out on his lap, for longer than you normally would with someone else. but this isn’t someone else, this is junhui, and you’re more than content going as slow as he wants. plus, all this is just making you wetter and wetter as time goes on, riling you up the more you think about what’s to come later.

you can feel him getting harder underneath you, and you moan into him, eagerly but patiently waiting for him. his hands climb up your back, hooking around your shoulders and pulling you almost completely flush with his chest.

he pulls away after a minute, lips red and puffy from the contact and breathing hard. “don’t– you need a c-condom, when… so you, don’t get pregnant?” he stutters out, struggling to get the words out and to stop from bucking his hips against you.

“i have an iud, it’s alright,” you say, also panting for breath.

“okay.” he exhales and leans back, letting go of your hips.

you look at him in confusion at his sudden pause. “why…?”

he stares at you. “uh, don’t you have to go put it in? or did you do that before you got here?”

you snort. “my iud? no, it’s in all the time. it doesn’t come out.” 

“oh,” he says, his cheeks flushing pink. “sorry, i didn’t know–”

“it’s okay, junnie. don’t apologize,” you say, trying your hardest to hold back a laugh. poor sweet, oblivious junhui. you’re not laughing at him, you’re laughing at how adorably clueless he is. you find yourself hoping you might be the one to help him understand these things, if he wants you to.

“have you… before?” he asks shyly, avoiding your eyes again.

you pause, knowing he’s already embarrassed and trying to answer him as gently as possible. “yes,” you say finally, and his face droops a little at your response. “but that doesn’t mean anything. it’s my first time with you, too, so we’re learning about each other. that’s all it is. so just… don’t think about it, okay? the only thing i’m thinking about right now is you.”

his cheeks are a deep shade of pink, but he nods. you take his hands carefully and put them at the hem of your shirt, guiding him to pull it up and over your head. you unclasp your bra and turn around to toss it over to your chair.

“now your turn,” you say gently, looking up at his eyes, which are still focused on your boobs.

“ju-un,” you murmur in a sing-song voice, and his eyes snap back to your face. “do you want to keep going?” 

“yeah,” he chokes out. “i mean– yes. yes, please.”

you coo at his manners, moving off of his lap to wiggle your pants down your legs. his eyes are completely transfixed on your body, admiring every inch of you that he can see.

“do you want to now?” you ask, and he nods rapidly. he stands up and throws his shirt off, and his pants are quick to follow until he’s sitting back in his chair in only his boxers. the lines of his stomach seem even more defined in the low light of the studio, and you so desperately want to run your hands up and down his torso, and feel every inch of him, but– one thing at a time.

you slide your panties off and go back to your position straddling his lap. “is this okay?” you ask again.

“mhm,” he hums lowly, and you feel it deep in your abdomen, walls clenching around nothing at the sound.

his eyes dart around your face, and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. “are you ready?” you ask softly.

his eyes widen, and he springs into action, his hands flying to your waist again. “oh! okay, yes, yes, um…”

you try not to giggle at his enthusiasm. you trail your hand carefully down to the waistband of his shorts, slipping the tip of your finger inside the elastic. “you have to take this off, junnie,” you whisper.

“mm, okay,” he whines, and you lift up a little so he can slide them down without standing up. he kicks them off and you sit back down, looking down to see what you’re working with. now that he’s fully hard, you can see that he’s… big, much bigger than you expected from a man this shy.

but who are you to judge, so you adjust on his lap, sitting up to reach below you and take his cock in your hand, positioning it at your entrance. he whimpers at the contact as you slowly drag his tip through your folds, spreading your wetness around. 

“you just sit here and let me do all the work, baby, okay?” you hum, gripping his shoulder with your other hand. “let me make you feel good, hm?”

he lets out a garbled noise in response, barely comprehending your words at how engrossed he is with the way you’re holding his cock so delicately, waiting to push it inside and finally feel you.

“junnie, need you to use your words, honey,” you say gently, moving the hand on his shoulder to lightly cup his jaw, lifting his chin so his gaze lands on your face. “you have to tell me if you don’t like something or you wanna do something different, okay?

“i wanna do you,” he says, staring blankly into your eyes, and that’s when you know he’s already gone.

you giggle. “i know, baby. you’re going to. but you have to talk to me.”

“‘cause you like my voice.”

you resist the urge to cringe, still embarrassed that that’s the thing he remembers about you. “yes, i do, but no, that's not why. you need to tell me if you want to stop, at any time, and we’ll stop, okay?”

hearing your tone get serious, he seems to snap out of it a little. “okay,” he whimpers. “can i…?”

he trails off, and you shake your head. you know he’s shy, but you can’t let him off the hook every single time, or else he’ll never learn. “can you what, honey? use your words.”

by now the tips of his ears have turned red, and he’s beginning to lose control, his hips starting to grind against you involuntarily. “can i… fuck you?” he rasps.

“of course you can,” you coo, slipping your hand behind his neck and kissing him gently. “good job, baby.”

he mewls at the praise, and you finally start to sink down on his cock. it burns at first with how girthy he is, but soon the stretch feels good, and you have to fight to keep yourself upright on his lap, soft whimpers escaping your lips.

he groans, throwing his head back against the back of his chair, his grip on your waist tightening. it takes some time, but you finally sit all the way down on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his hips.

immediately he thrusts up into you hard, and you yelp, pushing on his shoulders to get him to stop. “wait!” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut in pain. “just… wait a second first.”

“s-sorry,” he whines, his adam’s apple bobbing with each labored breath.

“s’okay,” you breathe, beginning to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock throbbing inside you. “you’re… big, gotta– gotta give me a second, oh my god.”

he hums absently, clearly pleased with your response, but he manages to stop moving for a little bit.

you sit still on top of him, your muscles gradually beginning to relax as you get used to the feeling.

he sighs, his hands sliding up your back, caressing your skin beneath his fingertips.  “feels so good, just wanna… fuck, just wanna be inside you forever.”

you would be surprised at the sudden lewdness of his words, if you weren’t so focused on the way the tone of his voice has abruptly dropped an octave. he’s starting to get more comfortable, you can tell, and you won’t lie: it’s dangerous for you.

“can– are you okay now?” he asks, eyes focused back on your face again.

“mhm,” you manage, letting out a short exhale. you start to wind your hips in circles, bouncing slowly on his lap as his hands roam your body, touching every inch of you as if he’s trying to memorize every last curve.

it’s a gentle pace; although much too slow for you, you’re hoping it’s just right for junhui to start out with. you’re not used to being on top, so you’re doing your best to keep up, but your thigh is starting to cramp from the position you’ve been sitting in and having to do the work yourself.

he must notice your discomfort, because his hands fall back down to their place at your waist, kneading your skin as he lifts his hips against you in rhythm.

“can i take over?” he mumbles, voice breathy. “please, let me, please.”

“yes, please,” you sigh, your head falling forward to rest on his chest. his skin is burning hot beneath your cheek, and you exhale, closing your eyes from exhaustion.

as soon as you relax and stop moving your hips, his own start moving immediately, your surprised cry punctuated by hard thrusts up into you, over and over again.

you’re still trying to figure out where the hell he got all this stamina from when he starts murmuring in your ear, sweet, dirty whispers as he pounds into you from below.

“you’re so… beautiful, oh my god,” he says in the low voice you’re still struggling to get used to hearing come out of his mouth. “you’re so good, wanna have you like this forever, please–”

“jun, ke–keep talking, please,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut in pleasure.

“you like my voice, but you sound so pretty right now,” he groans. “you should hear yourself. wanna hear you cry and make you feel so good, wanna hear you– god, wanna fuck you like this all day and never stop.”

you let out a moan, his words going straight through you. the rumble in his chest as he speaks reverberates against your head. 

the combination of his brutal pace along with the innocently filthy words from his mouth brings you right up to the edge, and you feel the knot in your abdomen tightening.

you shift a little, moving up so you can wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

his hips falter for half a second at the contact, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his long arms around you and pressing you flush against his chest, jerking you up and down on his cock with fervor.

“you’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful, you’re so perfect,” he babbles, somehow remembering to keep talking you through everything. “love you so much– fuck, thank you, you’re so amazing, you’re so–”

you almost miss the four-letter word that slips out in between his praises, but it rings through your ears, nestling itself in your heart. you decide to ignore it for now, too focused on chasing your rapidly approaching high, but you promise yourself you’ll talk to him after this is all over and figure out what this is between you two.

you whine, breath catching in your throat as your own words tumble out of you in a constant stream. “keep going, jun, please– keep going, so close, please, junnie please, need you–”

“are you gonna cum? you’re so perfect, please cum for me, please, baby, lemme hear you.”

“fuck, yes!” and with that you’re catapulting over the edge with a sob, clenching around his cock as your orgasm slams into you.

he keeps thrusting into you, not once stuttering as he fucks you through your high, content to keep going and going and going until–

“jun,” you call out weakly, head swirling as you try to sit up. “jun. jun, you can s-slow down.”

his hips begin to stop, slowing down until he’s gently rocking you back and forth on his lap. “did you cum already?” he asks in surprise. like a dork.

you choke out a laugh, head lolling as your arms loosen around his neck. “yeah. yeah, i did.”

“oh.”

if you weren’t so exhausted already, you would burst out laughing. “you’ll figure it out,” you wheeze, hoping it sounds reassuring. 

he starts to move his arms to let go of you, still wrapped around your torso, but you whine and he freezes.

“just… stay here first,” you say, letting your eyes fall shut for a second.

“why?”

you sigh. “because it’s nice.”

“oh,” he says again. he settles back into the chair, holding you on his lap, arms wrapped around you, just sitting quietly.

after a few more seconds of peace you pull yourself upright, pushing your hands against his chest.

“ …what now?” he asks quietly, eyes finding your face.

“you didn’t cum yet, right?” you say. he hums out a no. “then we keep going.”

he yelps in surprise when you start to lift yourself off his lap, his still-hard cock slipping out of you, now soaked in your juices. “don’t we have to wait for you?”

you fight the urge to slap your hand over your forehead. “i can cum more than once, honey. we don’t need to wait,” you say with the straightest face you can muster.

he nods, taking in this clearly unheard of information.

“do you want me to suck you off?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you.

“wh-what?” he stutters, face turning red, clearly not expecting it.

you take in a deep breath. “where do you want to finish?” you try instead, thinking it might help him decide.

“where will you let me?” he replies, wide eyes searching yours as if it’s a trick question designed to make him fail and you’re hiding the answer somewhere in your tender gaze.

“wherever you want, junnie.”

he pauses, like he’s making sure you aren’t lying to him. “can–” he clears his throat and starts again, more sure of himself. “i have an, um… idea.”

“mhm,” you breathe, watching him expectantly.

“do you think i could, maybe… stand up? and, have– you, over the…” he trails off, gesturing to the empty table beside you and hoping you’ll understand what he’s trying to say.

“you want to bend me over and fuck me on the table?” you translate for him, blinking.

instantly his cheeks flare, the shyness returning. “well, i… i. no, um, uh–”

“you can say yes, junnie. it’s hot.”

“you think so?” he squeaks in shock.

you giggle. “yes. you can do whatever you want to, just ask me first.”

his face breaks out into a wide grin. “okay. will you please, um, follow me?” he asks, holding out his arm like a waiter leading you to a table at a restaurant. if he wasn’t so damn cute you definitely would’ve smacked him by now.

you finally move off of his lap and step away, giving him room to move from his chair. you’d forgotten how big he is until he stands up, towering over you, and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. he turns and starts walking away, expecting you to follow him.

you laugh and grab his arm, pulling him back. when he looks at you in curiosity, you take his large hands and place them on your waist, motioning for him to guide you.

his mouth falls into an ‘o’ and he follows your lead, pushing you by your hips over to the table.

he stands behind you, caging you in against the table with his tall frame but otherwise not doing anything. you glance over your shoulder at him, nodding in approval.

his hands leave your waist and ever so gently press on your lower back to tilt you over. you comply, letting him move you how he wants.

“is that good?” he asks softly.

“it’s great,” you say, wiggling your ass playfully. “good job asking.”

he hums, so low it’s more like a growl, and it sends another shiver down your spine. at this angle you can feel his dick pressed against your ass, hard and throbbing.

he grinds against you, dragging his cock up and down your hole. you know he’s not doing it intentionally to tease you—you’re not even sure if he’s capable of that—but it does plenty to rile you up.

“junnie, please?” you gasp out, writhing your hips in search of friction, anything. his grip tightens on you, stilling your movements.

“what do i do?” he whispers.

“put it in,” you whisper back, unable to stop the giggle that slips out. he whines in annoyance, so you stop, giving him real advice this time. “just go slow. you can do it, baby.”

you angle your ass up, hoping to give him better access to your dripping hole. he’s already been inside you once, so surely he can find it again… right?

your expectations are clearly too high, because suddenly you feel his tip pressing in between your ass cheeks, and he’s—

you yelp, and he freezes, his hands flying off of you. you reach behind and stick your index finger into your pussy, using the rest of your fingers to spread your folds apart so he can see. “this one, baby.” at least he was going slow, like you said.

“oh! sorry, i’m so sorry,” he mumbles, and even without looking you already know he’s redder than a tomato. 

“jun. don’t apologize. it’s okay,” you say softly. you move your hand away from your pussy and reach it out to him, craning your neck to see him. you wave your fingers at him, and he takes your hand, automatically twining his fingers with yours. it makes you smile. “just go for it, honey.”

“okay,” he breathes, and he starts slowly pushing into you again (the right one this time).

tiny gasps fall from your lips as you feel him fill you up again, stuffing you with his cock, inch by careful inch. once he bottoms out you exhale, letting out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.

when you don’t feel any more movement, you realize he’s stopped, waiting. you almost whine at how cute and considerate he is, but instead you just squeeze his hand. “baby, you can move.”

“okay,” he says again, and pulls out carefully before slowly pushing back in.

you moan as he starts to increase his pace, rapidly pumping into you as his hips smack against your ass. you arch your back a little, trying to angle him in deeper. each powerful thrust pushes you against the table, your hip bones hitting the edge in a way that’ll definitely leave bruises. but you can’t bring yourself to care when junhui’s thick cock is thrusting into you like his life depends on it. 

still holding onto his hand, you slip your other hand down to run your fingers over your clit, rubbing small circles. you can feel the pressure in your abdomen growing, and—

“fuck, you’re so tight,” jun groans, voice thick with need, and he begins pushing into you even harder than before, something you didn’t even think could be possible. you whine and move your hand from your clit back to the edge of the table to stop yourself from ramming into it.

he notices your elbow bent at an awkward angle to protect yourself, so he lets go of your hand and snakes around your stomach to pull you back so you’re standing upright, both his arms wrapped securely around your body. “feels so good… god, wish i had done this sooner, you’re so amazing, so perfect, for me.”

you whimper at his words, unintentionally clenching around him. “jun,” you cry out softly.

“fuck, baby, say my name again– please, like that, baby, please say it, again,” he begs you, fingers pressing into your skin that you’re sure will leave you covered in little oval-shaped bruises by the time he’s done.

“jun! please, i’m so close, jun,” you moan, repeating his name over and over again like a mantra, getting closer and closer to your release with each syllable.

“i’m cl-close too, baby, please… you’re so good, fuck! you’re so good.”

the constant praise is almost too much, and with one more sharp thrust you’re coming undone on his cock for the second time. your legs wobble as you struggle to stay standing, your hands coming up to hang on to junhui’s strong arms wrapped around you for support.

he whines loudly, and you know he must be getting close, too. “can i– can i cum on your back?” he pants out, still gripping you tightly. as much as he really, really wants to cum inside you, he figures it might be messier than cumming on you. and besides, he doesn’t want to get too greedy; it is only his first, after all.

“yes! yes please, yes, jun,” you manage, still wading through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

a little harder than he intends, he’s shoving you roughly down onto the table again, pulling his dick out of you to jerk himself over you.

“junnie, please,” you whimper out weakly, and the sweet sounding words on your lips have him choking back a sob as he cums, thick spurts of white painting your lower back.

he keeps moving his hand on his cock until he’s completely finished, panting heavily. by the time he’s done you’re both sticky with sweat, breathing like you’ve just run a marathon.

you let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted but satisfied. silence settles over the studio, the music long stopped, but you can’t tell if it’s a good silence or a bad silence.

you realize you’d closed your eyes while jun was cumming, and when you don’t feel his touch anymore, you slowly pry them open again, wondering where he went. 

you prop your head up in your hands and look behind you to see jun hastily pulling on his boxers and jeans. 

your jaw drops in horror. you’d thought, with his inexperience, he wouldn’t be like all the other guys who fuck and then take off, but apparently, you thought wrong.

“jun!”

his head whips around as he pulls his zipper up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“are you seriously gonna just leave?”

his mouth falls open. “no! of course not! i was just putting my pants back on.”

your expression softens. “oh,” you say quietly, face flushing at having jumped to conclusions so quickly. “sorry.”

“why would i wanna leave after this?” he frowns, looking genuinely appalled at the mere idea that someone might do that. “you’re still here.”

“i thought, since–” you start, then pause. discussion for another time. “nevermind, it’s not important. but why were you putting your pants on like you were gonna leave?”

you’re the one feeling embarrassed, but it’s junhui that turns red and starts stuttering. “well, i– um, i didn’t want you to… see…”

you laugh and put your head back in your arms. when you don’t say anything, he calls out your name nervously, and you look back over at him.

“junnie, your dick was just in me. twice. i don’t care what it looks like.”

“okay,” he says shyly, but his fingers still fumble with the button of his jeans.

you sigh once he finishes adjusting his pants. whatever makes him more comfortable, you suppose. “jun, can you… help me clean up now, please?” you ask timidly.

he glances over at you, looking like he’s about to ask why you need help, but then he sees you still bent awkwardly over the table and his cum still covering your back, and his eyes widen. “oh! shit, yeah– yes, i’m so sorry, i will–” he stammers, almost tripping over his backpack in his hurry to go get a tissue from the box by the door.

you sigh, more exhausted than mad, knowing you can’t really fault him. he comes back over a second later, gripping a wadded-up handful of tissues.

he drops them on your back and begins wiping at your skin, gingerly cleaning you off. when he’s satisfied with his work, he balls up the tissues and tosses them into the small can by the door.

“oh!” he says, realizing. “i think we have antibacterial wipes in here too, do you want me to use one of those? er, wait, i don’t know if they’re safe for skin…”

with your back (mostly) clean again, you stand up, wincing at the ache in your hips. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. i’ll shower when i get home.”

you limp over to your chair, picking up your clothes and sitting down to start getting dressed again.

when jun finishes pulling his shirt over his head and looks over at you he gasps, seeing the bruises across your hips and tummy. “holy shit! did i do that?” he asks, looking horrified, and you look down to check.

“oh. yeah, that and the table,” you shrug, hooking your bra behind your back.

“i’m sorry,” he says, voice quivering, and he genuinely looks like he’s about to cry until you convince him you’re alright and he didn’t do anything wrong.

“it’s not supposed to hurt, though, i thought,” he frowns. “i don’t want to hurt you. i lo– um, like you,” he says, “why would i want to hurt you?” he catches himself quickly, but you heard what he started to say. you decide now isn’t the best moment for you to bring it up, so you leave it alone.

“sometimes people like it when it hurts. sometimes people like it not to hurt. everybody’s different,” you tell him instead.

he nods, thinking. “i… liked this,” he says finally.

you smile, finishing putting the last of your clothes back on. “good, i’m glad. you’re supposed to enjoy it.”

“did… you like it?” he asks tentatively.

“yes, i did like it,” you giggle, and he beams, clearly proud of himself. and he should be. obviously it wasn’t the most perfect of your life, but when is it ever? it was close enough to perfect that it might as well be.

“you live on campus, right? so i don’t need to walk you to your car?” he asks, grabbing his jacket that somehow fell on the floor and tossing it onto his chair as he starts to shut everything down in the studio.

you sigh. damn, you’d forgot about this part. sure, a couple hours ago you could walk just fine to the communications building on the complete opposite side of campus, but you hadn’t planned on getting railed within an inch of your life so you hadn’t exactly thought to bring your car. “yeah, but i… it’s on the south end, and i probably won’t be able to walk very far,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “i’ll take the shuttle.”

he frowns. “i’m not gonna let you take the bus. i can give you a ride.”

“you don’t need to, jun.”

“yes, i do,” he says assertively, and it startles you enough to meet his eyes. you haven’t ever heard his voice that firm, and when you look up his expression is as equally determined as his tone. not that you’d ever admit it to him, but it is kind of… hot.

you decide not to argue with him, knowing you won’t be able to change his mind anyway. you nod an ‘okay’, and his face instantly brightens to the awkward, nerdy jun you’re used to, beaming like he did when you first agreed to another date, back in the café what feels like ages ago.

“are you doing anything tonight?” you ask, watching him shut down the equipment and turn all the knobs and dials to an off position.

“no. i mean, i was gonna catch up on my show, but then, i didn’t expect for… this, to happen, so…” he shrugs. “i don’t know.”

“do you wanna come over? i… i mean, not to do anything. just… wanna be with you.” your voice comes out smaller than you intend it to, but jun still hears you loud and clear.

“yeah,” he grins. “yeah, that would be really cool.”

he pauses, looking like he wants to ask you something but not sure if he should. “can i give you a hug?” he says finally.

you smile. only junhui would ask for something as small and sweet as a hug after having sex. “yes, please.”

he crosses the room in two strides, barely giving you time to process before he’s squeezing you in his arms. you sigh and automatically melt into his arms, inhaling the perfumey scent of his cologne lingering on his wrinkled clothes.

it feels… good, being cared about.

he finishes shutting everything down quickly and grabs his things, swinging his backpack over his shoulder as he flips off the lights and closes the door behind you, making sure it’s locked before heading down the stairs.

you hate the way your legs tremble going down the steps, cursing him for being so good at his first time, because who the hell is that good their first time? already at the bottom of the stairs, jun looks back to see where you are and why you aren’t beside him, and, seeing you gripping onto the side railing for support, he dashes back up the steps two at a time to grab your arm and help you.

“you weren’t kidding when you said you couldn’t walk,” he giggles, holding the door open for you, and oh my god you want to hit him. “does that always happen? i thought people always just made that up to sound cool.”

“yes, i wasn’t kidding, and no, it doesn’t always,” you mutter, face heating in embarrassment. “depends on the person and how rough it is.”

his smile widens, the implied meaning of your words sinking in. “so what you’re saying is, my di–”

“junnie, if you finish that sentence, i swear to god i will never have sex with you ever again.”

he giggles, but he shuts his mouth, helping you the rest of the way to his car in silence. this time you know for sure, it’s a good silence.

his car is nicer than you’d expect a man’s car to be: clean and fairly organized, and there’s no half-eaten fast food in the backseat. he swings open the door for you and tries to help you sit down, but you swat his hand away.

he jogs around to the driver side door and slides into the seat, slamming it shut behind him. he buckles up, then grabs a candy cane from the pile in the cupholder and holds it out to you. “candy cane?”

“i’m… good,” you laugh, forcing yourself not to make a joke about having better things to suck on. why does he even have those in his car?

the ride to your apartment complex is pleasant. as expected from the radio man himself, as soon as the key is in the ignition, he turns the radio on, humming along to every song. you find yourself spending most of the drive staring at him, studying the tiny features in his cheeks when he smiles and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he hums.

after a shower, clean pajamas, and a raid of your refrigerator for snacks and something to drink, you’re snuggled up on the couch with jun, catching up on the show he wanted to watch. it’s the middle of some random season and you have no idea what’s going on, but you don’t care. just being here with him is more than enough for you, and you’re glad he’s enjoying being here, too.

“do you have a voice kink?” he asks suddenly at one of the commercials.

you nearly choke on your gatorade. “i– well, i mean… i didn’t used to, but…” you sputter out, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “where did you even hear that?”

“jeonghan said you might.”

you scoff. you still haven’t met junhui’s broadcasting partner yet, but you already have some choice words in mind for him when you do finally get to have the pleasure of meeting him. “well, tell him to keep his thoughts to himself,” you say, taking another smaller sip and avoiding his grin.

“so is that a yes?”

you roll your eyes and ignore him, which might as well be a yes, but you choose not to admit it. you know you definitely need to talk to him about… everything, but he seems so happy right now, you don’t want to risk ruining the evening.

but luckily for you, he brings it up himself at the next commercial break.

“how long do i have to wait until i can ask you to be my girlfriend?” he says, muting the tv and looking over at you.

you laugh. “were we not… already?” you ask. “we’ve been on, like, four dates. usually that part happens before you have sex.”

he looks a little disappointed, for some reason. not exactly the reaction you’d expect when someone tells you they want to keep seeing you. “oh. um, well…” he starts, scratching at the back of his neck. “i planned it all out, i was gonna do this big thing and ask you. i thought i was supposed to. i meant to do it earlier, but…” he trails off, cheeks turning pink.

your expression softens. “you… can ask me now,” you say, putting your hand on his thigh.

“okay.” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter on the couch. “will you be my girlfriend?”

you try not to laugh at how serious he is, knowing he’s really, really trying. “yes, of course,” you reply, trying to match his seriousness.

“is that okay? that i didn’t do it right?” he asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of the blanket covering your laps.

you smile and bring your hand up to his cheek, pulling him towards you to give him a quick kiss. “you did it perfect, junnie.”

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ongoing — author last updated: 05.01.24

cherry flavoured

18 — A FOR EFFORT

SYNOPSIS: y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung

PAIRING: dancer!jisung x fem!reader

WARNINGS: swearing, yeri's insufferable as usual (some horrible android emojis like I love my droid don't get me wrong but the emojis 😐)

NOTES: a v late update I'm sorry uni has been kicking my ass

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