The Hopeless Romantic In Me Is Crying

The hopeless romantic in me is crying😭

𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬

agent!yoon jeonghan x agent!gn!reader

0.7k words; when a mission goes wrong, jeonghan tries to distract himself you by talking about a wedding; mentions of blood/a knife wound/poison, cursing

Yoon Jeonghan thought he was going to throw up, cry, or both; and he wasn't even the one dying. 

"This was not what I thought when I wanted to carry you over the threshold," he mused nervously, angling your body so as to not hit the door frame as he carried you into the safe house. There was a team of paramedics already awaiting your arrival, setting up a clean space to work as well as their medical equipment.

In his arms, your limbs were limp and perspiration dribbled down the sides of your face. You had one hand pressed firmly to your side, preventing even more blood from seeping out of your body—your life force slowly drifting. You managed a weak smile up at Jeonghan's carefully calm face. "You wanted—to get married?" You panted, wincing as you added additional pressure to the wound. 

It had been a mission gone wrong, and in an effort to save Jeonghan, you had stepped in the arc of a poisoned blade. Jeonghan had seen you crumple before him, then his vision had gone red with absolute rage. Now? He was panicking. Yoon Jeonghan did not panic. 

"To you? Fuck yes." He couldn't believe he was talking about this while you were dying in his arms. "Hurry! They're dying for fuck's sake!" He barked at the present medical staff. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and his eyes darted frantically between the staff and your face. 

"Stay with me, dove," he murmured to you when he saw your eyelids drooping. His vision was blurring slightly, tears pooling in his eyes.

You sucked in a breath and tried to focus on his face, and not the vice-like grip the poison had on your heart. "Well, what's it like? Our wedding?"

Jeonghan gulped. His eyes closed briefly, trying to remain calm enough to tell you what he had envisioned for nights while the two of you were undercover together. "You'd look perfect, as always. This extravagant garment, bouquet of callas and just… pearls."

"Pearls?" You hummed, trying to imagine it yourself. 

He smiled down at you, nodding. Anyone could see the love that shined so deeply in his eyes whenever he looked at you. "Mhm. I was thinking of a pearl engagement ring with diamonds around it. What do you think?"

"Huh," you coughed, groaning when you irritated the wound further. You reigned it all in though when seeing worry flash over his features. "Not—bad. What else?"

Jeonghan's eyes flickered back to the medical staff, who motioned for him to set you down on the bed. He did so, carefully, but swiftly. Finally. One of them murmured for him to continue to distract you and keep you awake for them. He could do that. He could definitely do that.

He knelt down beside your head, so you would face away from the doctors working on your injury. There was… so much blood. Jeonghan swallowed. "It'd be a small thing," he told you, "nothing big. Our families, friends from the academy, that sort of thing. We'd have a live orchestra during the ceremony and a band for the reception."

Hand smoothing over the dampened hair against your forehead, Jeonghan hoped you couldn't feel him shaking. "I was thinking a pagoda over a beach cliff. Something stupidly romantic like that."

"That is stupidly romantic," you rasped, agreeing. You bit your lip, feeling something sting sharply at your injury and twist. 

Jeonghan grabbed your hand and let you squeeze as hard as you needed. "I thought so. And we'd have handwritten vows, of course. Cheol would probably be your Man of Honor."

"You're not wrong." You would have joked about calling him your Maid of Honor instead if you had the strength. 

"And when you walked down the aisle—fuck, I'd probably cry." A tear slipped down the slope of his cheek and you wished you could lift yourself up and kiss it away. 

"Hannie?" Your voice was tight from trying to keep the pain in. Whatever the hell those doctors were doing, you could definitely feel it. 

He nodded, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "Mhm?"

"Can we get married after this?"

Jeonghan smiled, genuinely this time, and you saw the light return to his eyes if only for a split second. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "God yes—I never thought you'd ask."

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunny1428 @mythicalamphitrite @ana-is-losing-her-mind @super-btstrash-posts @otchae @luv4vernon

honestly, me when 😩 my single self would also like to meet someone soon, who is just as attentive to me as this hoshi is 😩

pairing: soonyoung x female reader

genre: fluff, smut, very little angst

summary: when you met soonyoung, you thought he was probably one of the most annoying people you had ever encountered. the more you found yourself wrapped up in him, that thought didn’t really change. he was still annoying. annoyingly cute, annoyingly charming, and annoyingly exciting. and, before you realized, you were annoyingly in love.

word count: 33.2k (read on browser or desktop. mobile will kill you)

warnings: blowjob, fingering, face fucking, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, hair pulling, creampie, mentions of role-playing.

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this whole mini trilogy of f2l is just 🧑🏻‍🍳💋

🦋anon here !!! thoughts on your first time riding seokmin? i feel like it’d be half-encouragement from him and half-him losing it over how amazing you feel on top of him ✨

wc: 5.6k

notes: bff2l seokmin x f!reader, established relationship, big dick!seokmin, fingering, piv sex, protected sex, lots of sex and lots of fluff

[part 1] [part 1.5]

"I knew it!"

Soonyoung whacks the table and stands up, eyes glittering as the whole restaurant (and then some) turns to look your way.

"You guys literally wouldn't stop making googly eyes at each other when we all went out last week. And no one believed me!"

"Can you keep it down," you say, desperately trying (and failing) to suppress the bloom of laughter in your chest. "This isn't an episode of Maury."

"Except he is the father, right? Because you call him daddy?" Soonyoung winks devilishly, and Seokmin is all smiles as per usual, except you don't miss how he glances over at you to gauge your reaction first.

"Please shut up before I reveal your laundry list of even more embarrassing...preferences. To put it politely," you retort.

"So I'm right is what you're saying."

And as if he was in a cartoon, Seokmin's eyes widen so big, you think they might just fall out of their sockets.

We'll unpack that later, you tell yourself. You've got enough to handle now—never did you think you'd be so ridiculously happy to reveal to Soonyoung, of all people, the inner workings of your intimate life.

But you are, you're more than happy because you're dating your best friend, your better half, the glowing boy sitting next to you. And even just thinking about what he had said, that he's liked you for years now, sends an unreasonable amount of serotonin to your brain and all the butterflies one could handle everywhere else.

Instead of telling Soonyoung off, you decide to bypass the daddy topic altogether and let your very pointed eye roll do all the talking.

"Fine, fine," he relents, pulling out his phone with a triumphant grin. "Didn't see you as the daddy type anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you protest. "Please don't tell me you're texting that Maury joke to the group chat."

You notice Seokmin likes squeezing your hand when he laughs. It's yet another thing you're learning about him; it gives you the craziest head rush knowing that even though you thought you knew everything there was to know about your best friend, dating him only drew you in deeper, taught you new things everyday. Like how he only uses the yellow heart emoji for you, or the slow, romantic move of his lips when you kiss in the morning and the rough of his hands up your shirt.

"No, I'm telling Cheol he owes me twenty bucks." He pauses. "But I should, huh?"

--

It's in the parking lot of Seokmin's apartment complex, with his hand on your thigh, when he asks, "Daddy, huh?"

You know he's mostly joking—he still blushes when he sees you in a bra—but for some reason, the whole thing makes your head spin.

"Not really, but I didn't think it was your thing either." The weight of the moment sinks in, the heat of his hand, the hem of your skirt pushed up your legs. "Is it?"

"To be honest," he starts, pausing to look at you, all flushed and pretty—god, he's cute. "It's kinda embarrassing, but—," Seokmin buffers momentarily. "I'm into whatever you're into. I'll do anything."

The instant the words leave his mouth, you're on him.

It's all hands, your sweaty palms over the center console to lean in and kiss him, the desperate fumble of the seatbelt buckle. Hands that you've known your whole life but are something new, reborn in this moment.

"Fuck, fuck," you breathe, and you grab his hand to shove under your skirt and press right against your panties, already warm with arousal. "See how wet I am? Just from your hand on my leg?" Your lips meet his again, tongue and teeth and the moan in the back of his throat as he starts to rub you through your underwear. "I should be the one embarrassed."

His thumb presses against your clit, just enough to make you shudder.

"No, never." He leans in to kiss you but opts to press his forehead against yours instead, and the hand under your skirt stills so you can actually focus on what he's saying. "Can I say this? I want you so bad."

"Then what are we waiting for!"

And you almost close your own damn hand in the car door with excitement.

You wish you could say you acted with more poise on the way to his room (still empty—thank god Soonyoung has a social life), but all you can say is that you pray security never watches the elevator footage.

When you're in front of his apartment door, he drops his keys, and in your shared horny stupor, you both fall to your knees to pick it up, laughing between kisses as you sort through the seemingly endless keyring for the right one.

As soon as the door is closed behind you, Seokmin's leaning you against it, your bottom lip between his teeth in another kiss.

"Are we gonna fuck," you breathe, and your hands search for the hem of his tee to pull it off. "Please tell me we're gonna fuck."

You meet his eyes, tar black with want, then remember your composure.

"Only if you wanna, though. Swear," you add.

Seokmin clasps your hands, still wrapped around the cotton of his shirt, to lift them up to his lips and kiss them, like you're in a fairytale.

"Respectfully, there is nothing I want more than to blow your back out." His eyes widen when he realizes his brain filter has faltered yet again, and he self corrects—"I-I mean, I was planning for it to be more romantic, but—"

"Yes. The answer is yes."

You let your eyes meet once again, and it feels like something is truly unlocked in you.

This time the sex means something, these years and years of puppy love, of trying and failing to love other people because it's always been each other. And you want him, all of him, more than anything else.

The race to take each other's clothes off is neither poetic nor graceful, but there's something about the way your lips can't be apart for more than a second, how your blood feels like it sizzles under your skin at every touch, and the youthful, innocent way you both giggle when you almost fall over trying to step out of your panties—it's neither of your first times, but it sure feels that way, in the best way possible.

The plane of the door is cool against your bare back, and you arch into it as Seokmin's teeth find the soft skin of your neck and trail down to your collarbones.

When your hand wraps around his cock, hot and heavy, he whimpers against your skin. Fuck, it's not the first time you've seen his size (not even close), but you feel your little hand barely come around it and it still makes your knees weak.

"G-gotta prep you," Seokmin breathes. You instinctively hike your thigh up, and he gladly pins it against the door with one big hand and uses his free one to run a careful, reverent finger over the heat of your cunt. "Is this ok?" he asks, eyes glittery under his lashes as he kisses the bloom of a new hickey.

"Yeah, fuck, 's more than ok." you say it so easily, but the mere idea of having him finally inside you actually makes your pussy ache from being so turned on. Luckily, he's not about to deprive you. The pads of his fingers are so big, so rough, against your sensitive skin, and you cry out when he presses a careful digit to your clit.

He's not brave enough to say it now, but you can tell he loves how easy, fragile you become even under the simplest of touches. How his favorite person, strong and confident, can be reduced to this. And he reveres, drinks in the sight of you, heavy-lidded and debauched against his front door, desperately holding his forearm as he pushes just a single finger into your heat.

"Oh, god," you pant, trying to anchor yourself to jacking your boyfriend off. It's hard, given how his hand just feels so, so much better than any toy you have in your bedside drawer, but the way you've also got him under your spell is nothing short of intoxicating.

You watch, almost with an academic intensity, as his jaw just falls open when you run your thumb over a vein on the underside of his cock, fucking him with your fist just as he likes.

No, it hasn't been long since you confessed to him—yeah, his dick was also in your hand even then (but you never were much of a planner)—but you had tried to make up for lost time since.

You had, as Soonyoung so horribly liked to put it, gone to third base (never mind that he knew nothing else about baseball and thought there were more than three bases), but nothing further.

There's territory you had never dared to tread, even as best friends, but as you watch him melt into yet another kiss and feel the race of his heartbeat under the broad, tanned plane of his chest, secrets only yours to keep, you realize there's nowhere you'd rather be.

He pushes a second digit into you, and, regrettably, you're already almost over the edge. Who can blame you? Once he learned what you liked, he had no difficulty in spoiling you—you could almost say he was addicted to getting you off, the way he loved you. He curls his fingers deep inside you, right against your g-spot, and a white hot bolt of pleasure races up your spine.

(You remember the first time you came on his hand. He sucked on your clit and spread you open with just two fingers, and you came so hard you cried. He kissed all the tears from your cheeks, and after double, triple, and quadruple checking you were fine, he buried his head in your cunt to make you cry all over again.)

"N-need three," you gasp, tightening your hold on his wrist. You can swear his dick jumps a mile in the grip of your other hand, and you release it so he doesn't cum too quickly. "Gotta, gotta make sure you fit in my tiny cunt, huh?"

Seokmin nods, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, and gladly obliges, feeling you stretch around his three fingers. Judging by the way he sucks in a deep breath, sounding somewhere between a whine and a wounded noise, you know he's imagining the hug of your pussy around his cock, just how goddamn tight and slutty you'll really be just for him.

God, three fingers barely fit, but as he pushes past the first knuckle, the pressure in your belly coils more tightly than you could ever have imagined.

Helplessly, you watch the muscles on his forearm shift as he continues fucking you open on his hand.

You remember the summer you noticed how strong he had gotten. He was a junior lifeguard, and your days were filled with the endless August sun and his suntanned figure, painted crimson by the sunset with a surfboard on his shoulder.

That first night, the minute he dropped you off at your place, you had snaked a guilty hand down your bikini, playing with your clit and imagining it was him splitting you open against that lifeguard tower.

"God, fuck, how are you so fucking tight?" he murmurs under his breath. Hearing his voice drop like that makes you clench hard, and as the heel of his palm crashes into your clit once again, you cum so hard, your knees really do buckle.

He's got you, pulling you flush to his body with a strong arm around the small of your back as you catch your breath.

"Careful—did too good of a job, huh?" he laughs, sunshine smile making his cheeks glow.

He is so goddamn cute, but being pressed against his bare chest is not helping the situation downstairs, and instead of kissing his nose like the romantic in you wants to, you lean into him so that he can feel how hard your nipples are, how desperate you really are. And then you kiss his nose (impulse control is hard!).

"You did so, so good," you say, trailing slow, wet kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his earlobe. Your hand finds his weeping cock again, and you can hear him swallow hard as you start playing with him again. "I need you, Seok, 'm so ready for you."

"H-how do you want me?" Seokmin asks breathlessly. "I'll do it all, fuck, whatever you want."

"You're lucky I'm feeling nice right now." You kiss his jaw again, and you absolutely delight in how quickly he tips his chin up so you can better access him. You adore that about him, how vulnerable and trusting he is around you. His love is open-hearted, and you never, ever want to take that for granted. "On the bed, preferably. I want our first time to be on a flat surface."

"Door's not flat enough?" he laughs, but he starts walking backwards, arms still wrapped tight around your middle. He lets you guide him all the way to the bedroom, which should have been an easy task if not for Seokmin almost tripping over air every three steps in his excitement. "Could be sexy?" He wiggles his eyebrows, and you're too horny to stop yourself from laughing in the absolutely lovesick way you tend to laugh nowadays.

"Can't ride you standing up, can I?"

And then Seokmin bites his lip to stifle what could possibly be the most embarrassing moan in the world before you push him so the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

"Come on, now," you tease. Watching him scramble back to lay against the pillows, monster cock slapping his washboard abs, feels like a borderline crime, but it's so hot in that undeniably Seokmin way. You can't possibly describe it with any other words.

"Hold on," he says, opening one of the bedside drawers. He fumbles around for a beat, the weak lamp not helping much, and procures a shiny foil-wrapped condom. "Got the one that's supposed to make the girl feel good."

"Oh my god." You watch as your stupidly hot boyfriend tears the thing open with his teeth, grinning all the while, and you feel your heart actually swell to an inhumane size. Wonderful, kind Seokmin, who has the biggest goddamn dick you've ever seen and still gets the condom that would make you feel good, just in case.

"If I neigh, will you laugh?" Seokmin asks, completely serious as he rolls the condom onto his dick. It takes you completely by surprise, and he doesn't even need to say anything else for you to laugh, a full body one. He laughs too, and you know he's rambling because that's what he does when he has the jitters, which you somehow have too.

And when the silence settles, it's just you and him and the dew of the lamplight. He admires you as you stand by the bedside, quietly as to not make you feel rushed. There's no reason why either of you should be anything but comfortable (you've seen him with rivers of snot running down his face—on multiple occasions, but the worst was when he didn't get the lead role in the school musical senior year. And you two don't even talk about the time he walked in on you, butt-naked, washing your panties in his bathroom sink when your period took you by surprise. Like a good best friend, he drove to the drugstore to buy you pads. Now there's always a box in his bathroom drawer, like an unsaid kindness).

You straddle him, cunt hot and slick over his abs as you settle onto your thighs, and you feel yet another rush overtake you. Somehow, somewhere inside the pit of your chest, you're a bit nervous.

Even now, when he's sucking the breath out of your lungs in another searing kiss, you feel this overwhelming need to be perfect for him. More than a best friend.

"Sorry, I—," you pause to peck the corner of his smile, feeling the words spin around in your brain like it's a washing machine. "Are we doing this?"

"Do you want to?" His hands run up and down your sides, comfortingly. "We don't have to."

"No, I really, really want to." And it's hard to say it, because you've always been the more confident half, but you do. "I just wanna do it right."

"Baby." The squeeze of your hands again. "You could never do it wrong. Ever."

The earnest way he looks at you makes all of the confidence flood back into your body, and you're suddenly overcome with all the affection your body can handle.

That, and he tenses his abs as he settles deeper onto the bed, and you feel it on your clit, reminding you that you are, in fact, so turned on you might actually die.

Get out of your head and fuck your best friend, you tell yourself, and you wonder why you were so silly for worrying earlier.

"Ready?" Seokmin asks with a gentle tap of the soft flesh at your hips.

"You should be asking yourself that," you laugh, fully recovered and now admiring the mess you've made out of Seokmin. His lips are swollen and glossy, and there's nothing, absolutely nothing, you want to do more than to ruin him.

"That's my girl," he says warmly. "So pretty when you laugh."

"Your girl, huh?" You begin rocking your hips back and forth, letting his dick slide between your pussy lips. "Mmm, I like the sound of that."

You watch his eyes flutter shut as he slowly exhales, finally feeling the relief you're sure he was so desperately craving. "Y-yeah, fuck. I'll call you whatever you want."

"Whatever I want? Oh, you better be careful giving me that kind of power." You grin down at Seokmin, who is furrowing his brow perhaps in the cutest way you've seen from him yet.

You can tell he's trying his best to hold back—his hands rest firm on your hips, and he can very well grind you on his cock himself. You feel the latex slide over the hood of your clit as you sway oh so slowly over him, watching every little muscle in his face as his lip quivers with another broken moan.

"God, you're so hot," he whispers. "Can't believe we're doing this. 'M so lucky."

"Please shut up." You lean down to peck him and are met with the tiniest, softest little kisses all over your lips and your chin because he can't be bothered to aim when the love of his life is about to sit on his dick for the first time. "You're gonna make me like you more."

"That's a good thing, right?"

Deciding to put him out of his misery, you reach behind you to position his dick at your entrance. It's already so, so sensitive from all the foreplay that even just feeling the pressure of it against your skin has you curling your toes in anticipation.

You sink down on him for what feels like a fraction of a millimeter, and already you know he's big big in you. You suck in a deep breath, giving yourself a beat to adjust as your lungs fill and your cunt clenches so hard, other muscles down there feel compromised.

With both of your hands against his chest, hair mussed and cheeks flushed, you look so much more beautiful than Seokmin could ever dream of, but he's too focused on how you're biting your cheek and gasping at how he just stuffs you so, so fucking full.

"A-am I too big? We can, like, stop," he stammers. "Had no idea your pussy's so fucking tiny, holy shit."

Yeah, maybe it's been a while since you've been fucked by a non-silicone dick (hard to sleep with other men when you've wanted only one for god knows how long). But you know the drill, and you bob, albeit a little noncommittally, up and down, and fuck his cockhead in and out of you. The first time's always a stretch, the second time a little less so, and by the third, you're already fuzzy-brained.

"I-I'm serious," Seokmin babbles, obviously not in control of his dick as you feel it pulse inside of you.

"Shhshhshh—" you gently cover his mouth with one hand to prevent any more of his worrying. "Look at what you do to me," you say, voice barely above a whisper, as you splay out your other hand over your stomach. And then you sink down as far as you can on him, slowly, torturously, and you see his eyes widen as the back of your hand swells with how you give way for his cockhead and bulge out with his size.

"Mmph—shit," Seokmin whimpers, still muffled by your hand. "Holy."

He watches as his cockhead disappears over and over again into the heat of your cunt, god, he can hear Soonyoung's voice in his head (it's saying, just the tip, just the tip, in that infuriatingly endearing middle-school cadence), but he had no idea it would look and feel so good.

"You're perfect, so fucking perfect. So good at riding me," he manages, fingernails leaving crescents in your sides with how he's clinging to you.

With every bounce of your hips, you start to fall into a comfortable rhythm. You're sinking deeper and deeper onto him, and although it's not much, you're hell-bent on fucking the shape of his dick into you until he can fit all the way, till he can see you take all of him, feel you flush against him.

"Fuck, no wonder your girlfriends always wanted to stay the night, cock's so fucking good," you sigh, already feeling an orgasm building up in your tummy.

"Jealous?" You pout down at him in reply. "You really shouldn't be."

He experimentally rocks his hips up, meeting you in the middle so you don't have to do all the work, and his cockhead drags against you in a way that rips some strangled, pornstar mewl from your chest and makes your thighs positively shake around him.

"Was thinking about you the whole time," Seokmin finishes, brows knit together as you squeeze so tight around him, his words going right to your cunt as you process what he just said.

You imagine a pretty girl's lips wrapped around Seokmin's cock, all the while he's thinking about you taking him down your throat, cum running down your chin. No wonder when it actually happened last week, he looked at you like you had walked straight out of a dream.

"Every time?"

He nods and rocks up again, and you feel like an organ will explode inside you. Maybe it will, given how you've got that tummy bulge you've only dreamed of in your horniest fantasies.

"S-Seok," you breathe, tears pooling at your lashline as he holds you still so he can fuck the few inches of cock into you that you've taken so far. "A-ahh, fuck, oh, oh my god."

"Feels good? Let me take care of you, angel? Please?"

It feels like a rhetorical question given how he's already started to bounce you up and down like a fleshlight, but you're not coherent enough to even think about the answer pouring out of your mouth, more, m-more, deeper, please, please, god please. You look down as he enters you again, and you see just how, even though you haven't taken him all the way yet, you've creamed his cock so fucking good, it should be on the front page of Pornhub.

It's then that you realize it's not just a want for him to split you open, it's a need.

Partially because it's been the subject of half of your teenage dreams, partially because you realize you are out of practice and your poor legs may just give out.

Seokmin hesitates briefly, likely (validly) concerned he's going to break you if he puts his whole cock in you.

"Remember how you said you wanted to break my back?" you say in your most level, non-fucked out voice. "Like twenty minutes ago."

"Respectfully," he adds. He smiles, but his jaw is clenched with the feeling of your heat around him.

"Well. I need you to make good on that promise." You sink down on him as far as you can go, because if you go any further, you're convinced all the muscles in your thighs will actually liquefy. "N-need your help, baby."

It seems like that's all he needs to hear, because he's hoisting you off his body as gently as he can and onto your back, not forgetting the pillow under your hips (thoughtful as ever).

And it's like this, with your hands laced with his above your head, eyes locked, and lips so close you're breathing the same breaths, that he fucks into you, deep, all the way.

He bottoms out in you, slowly, carefully, and it feels like fireworks go off in your body as the stretch turns to liquid pleasure, the mind-numbing kind you've been craving.

"F-fuck..." you whine, near-drooling already.

"Everything okay so far?"

You squeeze his hands in reply and he squeezes back, like he always does. You know Seokmin said he wished things were more romantic, but you can't imagine this being any more perfect.

Now, pinned under Seokmin's gaze, you feel swallowed whole by years and years of caged up affection.

He's let it leak, the glimmers of just how fucking much he loves you, needs you.

The long, lingering gazes (he was never subtle, and he's more shameless about it now that you've started dating), and you hate to admit it, but he's the first thing you look for in any room. How it's never just one orgasm with him, how he can spend hours with his hand under the blanket, between your thighs as you both ignore yet another movie.

He still pretends flowers he picks one by one at the farmers market are premade bouquets.

And now, Seokmin's holding your hands as he stretches your cunt like a pornstar, and you're in love with him.

When you smile at him, his already slow pace falters, and he buries his head in the space between your neck and your shoulder.

"Sorry," he laughs quietly, pressing a wet kiss to your bare skin. "Get embarrassed sometimes around you. Can you believe it? I still do."

"No reason to. You're doing so good," you reply, a bit strangled because he shifts his hips further up into you so his cockhead's snug against your g-spot. "God, Seok, you're so fucking hot. We've been best friends half my life and I haven't told you that nearly enough."

You can feel his face heat up, but he doesn't relent. "God, I love you." he says, pressing another kiss to your neck, right at your pulse point so you keen right into him. "Can I fuck you? Better than my other girlfriends?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

This time, he fucks you. For real.

His hips crash into the back of your thighs so hard, you move up the mattress, and he abandons the whole hand-holding thing to instead wrap his arms around your torso, pressing your chests flush and connecting your bodies—skin to skin, heart to heart, his forehead against yours.

"Mmmh, god, fuck, so fucking big," you drawl, jaw hanging open as you slur your words. "A-ah, fucking me so good, baby."

Seokmin watches you, crowned by his bedsheets, as you beg for him harder, deeper—seeing you so ready and desperate for him fills him with a possessiveness he's never experienced before.

And this time it's his turn to smile, but he can't smile at you like that. Not when he's fucking you so good, you're ruined for anyone else.

"You like it like this, huh?" he asks. "Like feeling me split your perfect fucking pussy open? Better than your other boyfriends, huh?"

You nod, babbling yes, yes, yes over again. Something about how low and gravelly his voice gets in your ear, how he asks you if he's pleasing you in the most sincere voice as he slams into you hard enough to bruise, is sending you spiraling into a high you don't think your body is ready to handle yet.

"Seok, baby, tell me how good I'm taking you," you whine, toes curling and thighs shaking as they're wrapped around him. Your cunt is squeezing around him so hard, you're surprised he's able to still move. "Wanna hear it from you."

"S-so good, 's like you're made for me." Seokmin's delirious with pleasure, licking your neck and trailing open mouth kisses wherever he can. "Your perfect face and your perfect cunt, everything." His hips stutter inside you, god, you're so high, you're just making noises at this point.

When he bottoms out fully one more time, your orgasm hits you before you even comprehend it coming, and you cry out so loudly, it feels like your soul leaves your body. Your back arches off the bed, and you tremble limply in Seokmin's arms.

He moans, full bodied and low, only seconds after—shit, get so tight when you cum—when he cums in the condom, and your mind fogs with the brief thought of him pumping all that cum into your kitty and knocking you up. Maybe he'd eat you out afterward too, but the thought is making you horny for an experience you cannot physically handle right now.

"Oh my god," you croak. You blink dumbly up at your boyfriend, who now hovers over you, equally as spent and lovestruck. "Why the fuck didn't we do this sooner?"

"They say the best things are worth waiting for," he replies, laughing softly as he tucks a piece of sweaty hair behind your ear. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to how beautiful you are in these moments, dazed and radiant and covered in him. "That was okay, right? As good as you expected?"

"Better. And I have a pretty good imagination." Your lips feel like they're moving through quicksand and your eyelids heavy, but you know it's the post-orgasm haze you're wading through. And you don't even want to think about how your entire lower body will feel in approximately thirty minutes. "I think you fucked the spirit out of my body. It's a miracle I'm talking to you right now."

You hear a dull smack in your vicinity and a quiet whoops, and you hope it's not the tied-off condom missing the trash can (it is. He has terrible aim.)

But you let him sidle next to you in bed and swallow you up in his big, warm arms. "Miracle, huh? Guess I'm pretty lucky then."

"You're not supposed to be so sweet right now, you know. It's hurting my feelings," you jokingly protest, grinning when he kisses your nose.

"So you don't want me to order tacos? For after your nap?"

And of course both of those things sound perfect, because you forget Seokmin knows you inside and out (in more than one way now, you suppose), and he's spent more than one evening waking you up after you crash on his couch with a post-nap snack.

"Hmm.. But a nap is tempting...So are tacos." You settle into his warmth, enjoying the wonderful yet terrifying feeling of being so known. But you wouldn't have it any other way. "Reparations for you actually breaking my back."

"Wait. Did I actually?"

"No, god no," you laugh. "Just maybe my legs and also my pussy."

"Oh, good." He smiles wide, the kind where his whole face scrunches up in joy. "Then I have permission to carry you around for the next 24 hours?"

"I won't stop you," you say, mid-yawn. "Does Soonyoung know I'm over? Should we at least try to make it look like we didn't almost rail on his front door?"

"He probably already knows," Seokmin replies. "He told me to do the pillow thing when you were in the restaurant bathroom."

"Gross. But good. It worked." You shut your eyes tight. "God, I can't believe they all know about us now. I feel so seen. So perceived. Everyone will know I was bullshitting when I said there was no way I had feelings for you."

"Is that a bad thing? Do you wish we kept it a secret?"

You bury your face into the side of his body and wail, "No. That's the worst thing about it. That's how much I like you."

It's true—even you, self-proclaimed mystery, wants everyone in the world to know you're dating Lee Seokmin.

He kisses your forehead, more tenderly than you think you deserve.

"Take your nap. Wouldn't want you to wake up to cold nachos."

"Oh, you're ordering nachos too? I love you. I love you so fucking much."

He laughs because he knows you're probably delirious from how you got your world rocked less than half an hour ago, but you mean it. You mean it with your whole fucking chest, the one presently covered in spit and sweat and hickeys, and as he squeezes your hand one last time, you think about how Seokmin said he was the lucky one between the two of you.

No, there's no way. Not when you're lying in the arms of someone who looks like they've been carved out of marble, who just happens to know every single one of your phone numbers and your drive-thru orders and the answers to your online banking security questions.

"I know you're still awake," Seokmin chides softly, pressing the furrow between your brows (it's your thinking face).

"Fine. But I really do love you, okay?"

"Love you more."

You'd fight him on this one too, but you're too happy to say another word.

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.

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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