#Enha smut

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Sunghoon

doll!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements, anything else lmk! wc: 8.9k synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return jaeyun | masterlist | jongseong a/n: hi! this is the second installation of this series and i'm enjoying writing it so so much! there's a little bit of the lore in here and i tried to put in some little nuggets like word play and everything to give you guys some hints! i hope you enjoy and as always, likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

In the week following your encounter with Jaeyun, you've stirred something deep within him. Whenever possible, he finds his way to your side, lending himself to you as he helps you with your daily chores, holding onto your hand when you sit down for some relaxation time between cleaning and cooking, and most importantly - at least for him - he’s been fucking you like crazy.

Something about last week made him feel alive, stronger than he had ever felt before, and he wanted to have that feeling ignited within him almost every day. He coaxed you into having sex a second time around by using those beautiful round eyes to pull at your heartstrings and break your resolve and from then your embarrassment subsided and you used one another to your heart's desire.

Having sex with a doll puts you in the same bracket as those lonely middle-aged men who have no friends and find solace with their rubber girlfriends, which is quite embarrassing. But this is different, you like to think, Jaeyun is for all intent and purpose alive and might as well be a real human.

Sure, he doesn’t have internal organs, his skin is made from thermoplastic elastomer, and his doll shell is made from durable porcelain with insulated heat, but he’s as real as they come. You did ask him how he can get hard and fill you up to the brim with his faux seed, but he says it’s just the way he’s designed. 

Soonyeol is a kinky bitch and she knew exactly what she was doing when she purchased these specific dolls.

You break Soonyeol’s rules almost every day because of him though, venturing into his room to fuck him silly, both of you seeking pleasure and comfort in each other's presence, holding one another close late into the night, swapping stories and laughter; it is nice to have someone to talk to, even if it’s in hushed tones.

Your inquiries into his origins and existence yield no concrete answers; after all, he's only been "alive" for a short time and consequently doesn’t know much about himself, his only offering is to explain that Heeseung and Jongseong know the most out of the four of them. And with your promise to Jaeyun to keep his slip-up of spilling the beans to you a secret from his brothers, seeking clarification from the other dolls remains off-limits.

That doll can get you to do anything he asks if he wants to and it’s almost embarrassing to admit.

As you go about your daily routines, you maintain a facade of normalcy, interacting with the other three dolls just as you did before discovering their secret. You speak to them as if they were merely inanimate objects, not expecting any response in return.

Despite your efforts to remain composed, a sense of unease creeps in the longer you’re in the room with any of them that isn’t Jaeyun. You can't shake the feeling that their eyes are following you, tracking your every move with an unsettling intensity. What once was blissful ignorance is now hyper-awareness. 

At times, you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye, only to find objects mysteriously rearranged or misplaced when you turn to investigate. It's a subtle form of mischief, one that leaves you feeling disconcerted and off-balance, unsure of what other tricks they may have up their sleeves.

Jaeyun assures you time and time again that none of his brothers would act in malice, however, his words fail to instil any comfort, especially around Heeseung. 

From the moment you arrived at the mansion, Heeseung had captivated you with an inexplicable allure, drawing you in with an intensity that bordered on hypnotic. It was as if he possessed a power unlike any of the other dolls. He was the one that got you to say yes to staying, you know it.

But beneath that surface charm, there's a darkness that unsettles you, a sense of malevolence that lingers in the air whenever he's near. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's a palpable sense of foreboding that hangs over your interactions with him, like a shadow creeping across your consciousness. He is dangerous and the soul - or whatever it is that he has that brings his doll to life - is entrenched in a dark cloud, one that you want to steer clear of for the rest of your time.

Despite your reservations, you find yourself drawn to Heeseung, unable to resist the pull of his enigmatic presence. But with each passing day, the feeling of unease only grows stronger, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath his doll facade.

You’re cleaning the library and the sun is beaming through the large windows, the hot sun adding an uncomfortable heat to your body.

You continue regardless, wiping your brow and dusting down the shelves with a lime green feather duster you found hidden in the kitchen cupboard. You wanted to do a good job but the library is extensive with wall-to-wall shelves filled with books ranging from present to pre-world war one and you’ll be damned if you’re cleaning each book one at a time; the feather duster will be your new best friend.

As you make your way toward the desk positioned in the centre of the room, a surge of curiosity washes over you, compelling you to indulge in a bit of snooping. The allure of uncovering secrets about the mansion and its mysterious owner, Soonyeol, proves irresistible, fueling your determination to explore further.

With cautious steps, you approach the desk, scanning its surface for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed documents. Your fingers itch with curiosity as you reach for the drawers, your heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. If there are any clues to be found, surely they would be nestled within the confines of this desk.

It’s ridiculous how exciting you find all of this like you’re in some James Bond movie about to uncover the deep secrets of the villain. It’s not that deep but you need to find some excitement in the quiet of this home, so why not make snooping around the fun part of your day?

Beside Jaeyun, of course. 

When Jaeyun is with you, you don’t pry into the mansion, scared that he will take it the wrong way, like you’re trying to expose the brothers and their minder.

Listen to yourself, Y/N. You’re worried about a doll’s feelings, you think to yourself and cringe. It’s concerning how much you don’t want to hurt the doll but that’s just the effect he has on you.

Your fingers wrap around the drawer handles, eagerness flowing through you as you prepare to reveal whatever mysteries may be hidden inside. You gently tug on the drawers, but to your dismay, they remain firmly closed, guarding their contents from prying eyes.

Frowning in frustration, you give the handles a harder shake, trying to remove whatever mechanism is keeping them locked. Despite your attempts, the drawers refuse to move, it's secrets tantalisingly out of reach.

“Shit,” you murmur, trying one more time.

Your gaze wanders over the desk, looking for any sign of a key or secret compartment that may lead to the contents of the drawers. Your pulse rushes with excitement as you dig through the desk, brushing your fingertips around the edges in search of a secret latch or trapdoor.

However, as you scan every inch of the desk, your search provides no results, leaving you feeling irritated and dissatisfied. There must be some way to get those drawers open, there’s no way if there wasn’t something secret inside, some form of incriminating evidence about Soonyeol, that she would keep them locked up. 

As you stand before the locked drawers, your mind flows with questions regarding Soonyeol's occupation and the mystery surrounding her actual identity. The mansion's vintage furnishings and rows of ancient porcelain dolls appear to point to a career in antique collecting, but an ongoing feeling of anxiety suggests darker possibilities. If she was a mere collector, how on earth did she manage to obtain four dolls who are alive? Is she just insanely clued up on possessed dolls and where to find them on eBay?

You look around the room to see if any pictures are hung suspiciously, all those nights of binge-watching Sherlock Holmes are coming in handy because you know now that pictures almost always hold either a safe or a taped-up key behind them.

You meticulously inspect each picture frame in the library, your eyes scanning for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed keys. You check portrait after portrait, your fingers tracing along the edges of each frame, but your efforts yield no results. Disappointment threatens to overwhelm you as you realise that your search has so far been fruitless.

Why is this proving to be so difficult? Surely there has to be something you can scope out, even a bobby pin would suffice at this point so you can pick at the locks.

Just as you're about to give up hope, your eyes fall upon an unusual floor-length portrait hanging inconspicuously on the far wall. It depicts the bizarre scene of a lamb with a human body, eating its sheep counterparts. It’s an unsettling fusion of outlandish and grotesque. You can't help but grimace at the tasteless decor choice, wondering what possessed Soonyeol to hang such a peculiar painting in her library. 

“Seriously? She is one fucked up lady,” you wince to yourself, wondering why she couldn’t just have a poster of some kittens or literally anything else.

Despite your feelings of unease, curiosity overcomes you, and you move forward to inspect the painting more closely. As you reach out to touch the frame, your fingers brush over the edge, and you notice that it seems there is a gap between it and the wall, as if there is something hidden behind it.

With your heart pumping from anticipation, you carefully pull the picture from the wall, exposing a dark wooden door that is concealed behind it. Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that this may be the breakthrough you've been waiting for. With shaky hands, you reach for the rusted doorknob and give it a cautious jiggle.

But just like the locked drawers, the door remains firmly sealed shut, thwarting your attempts to uncover its secrets. You groan out loud, tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in frustration. 

"What has a girl gotta do to find out what the fuck is going on in this place?" you mutter under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration and determination. You refuse to be deterred by this setback, knowing that you're not one to give up easily.

Gathering your resolve, you kneel down to inspect the door handle, your fingers tracing the contours of the keyhole with a sense of anticipation. You can feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on you, the tension in the air palpable as you prepare to uncover whatever secrets lie beyond this enigmatic door.

As you peer inside the keyhole, your breath catches in your throat, your eyes straining to penetrate the darkness that shrouds the room. Every fibre of your being is on high alert, a sense of anticipation tingling at the back of your mind. 

But then, just as you begin to make out the faintest hint of movement within the darkness, something catches your eye - a faint glimmer of red light flickering like a flame from within the depths of the keyhole. Your heart skips a beat as a surge of apprehension courses through you, a sense of foreboding tightening its grip on your chest. 

What is that? 

Your heartbeat quickens as you realise whatever it is, it’s not good and it’s trapped behind that door for a reason. You squint your eyes further, trying to focus on the faint shapes you can see throughout the room but it’s proving difficult, the red beam being your only sense of light.

Time appears to slow to a crawl as you watch the red light pulse and flutter, its intensity increasing with each passing moment. Your palms go sweaty in anticipation, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on edge as you brace yourself to find out what is behind the door.

Then, without warning, just as you go to reach for the handle once again, the red light bursts brightly, obscuring your eyes. With a startled scream, you stagger backwards and deck onto the hardwood floor, your heart beating as adrenaline rushes through your veins. The room swirls around you as you try to regain some form of direction, your senses overwhelmed by the abrupt blast of light and the overpowering feeling of dread that persists in the air.

“Fuck!” you manage to yell out and as your senses slowly return, you find yourself gasping for breath, the remnants of the red flame still burning brightly in your vision, creating white spots behind your eyelids. With trembling hands, you reach out to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest as your blood pumps nervously through your veins.

In a daze, you glance to your right, your gaze falls upon the portrait you had removed from the wall and it's changed - it is now portraying a human head with a sheeps body, eating it's mesty carcass, blood smeared over it's mouth and wool.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you quickly rush to replace it, your hands shaking as you fumble with the frame. Your heart feels as though it's about to burst from your chest as you struggle to hang the painting back in its rightful place.

Finally, with the portrait back on the wall, you step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to steady your racing heart and swallow the sick that rose from the pit of your stomach out of fear. 

But as you turn around, your heart jolts to a panicked stop in your chest as a new wave of terror washes over you. Sitting there, in the corner of the room where there was nothing before, is one of the dolls - Park Sunghoon, motionless and silent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are the last thing I need right now,” you say in frustration, pinching your eyes to extract the last few spots from your vision. It’s bad enough that you’ve just been blinded by god knows what, and now you’re being startled by Sunghoon’s sudden appearance.

Breathing out, you compose yourself and nod, “Okay, so I won’t be going near that door again,” you swallow thickly, trying to inject a laugh to lighten your heavy heart. Scouring around in Soonyeol’s drawers was one thing but you would rather be massacred by a hatchet at the hands of dear Sunghoon over there than find out whatever the fuck is behind that door.

As you regain your composure, a manic laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervous energy and relief bubbling to the surface. Sunghoon remains motionless, his expression unchanged, as if unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him.

You approach him with a mixture of curiosity, noticing the pair of frameless glasses perched on his face. It's a strange sight as you certainly didn’t put them on him this morning because why on earth would a doll need reading glasses?

"A fashion statement?" you quip, tapping the side of the lenses lightly. The failed joke eases some of the tension that still lingers in the air, and you find yourself chuckling softly as you take a seat on the table beside him.

Leaning in close, you lift Sunghoon's chin to meet your gaze, studying his features with fascination and admiration. Despite the unsettling circumstances, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of solace that washes over you as you take in his ethereal beauty.

His hair falls in soft waves around his face, his bangs framing his eyes in the most captivating way. His features are striking, from the delicate freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks to the sharp line of his jaw. Sunghoon's beauty is almost otherworldly, captivating you in a way that you can't quite explain.

"You'll protect me from whatever is in there, right?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood but Sunghoon sits mute and unmoving. You ponder if staying still like that hurts them or is uncomfortable; does it just come naturally? There are so many questions but after that ordeal, you’ll give up on prying for now.

You pat Sunghoon's cheek softly, smiling down at him before deciding to press on with your chores, hoping that the mundane tasks will help ease some of the weight from your shoulders and restore a sense of normalcy to your day.

With careful hands, you adjust Sunghoon's head to stare forward once more, a futile attempt to spare him any unnecessary discomfort - although you can't help but wonder if he's even capable of feeling pain. Setting him back in place, you make your way to the desk and retrieve your duster, ready to resume your duties.

Focusing your attention on the far side of the room, away from the ominous door, you begin to polish the ancient globe that sits near the entranceway. 

Spinning it idly, you sigh and think about all the places you want to see before you die. You’ve been stuck in this city your whole life only going as far as hopping from city to city and you are in dire need of some vacation time. Maybe it’s the red light that almost blinded you, but you’ve never felt more of an urge to pack up and go.

Maybe it’s just this place you need to get away from. 

But you’re stuck, something is keeping you here. Any normal person who saw what was behind that door would have run for the hills and never looked back, yet, despite the fear in your body that lingers deep inside, you don’t want to leave.

You’ve said this whole time it’s for the money but you could find work somewhere else, a job that wouldn’t give you chills in your bones. 

Once you’ve settled your nerves fully, you want to keep investigating this place and find out why Jaeyun and the other dolls are alive, and unfortunately for you, you have a sneaking suspicion that whatever is behind that door might just hold your answers. 

As you continue to clean, your eye is pulled to an object perched on one of the shelves: an old camera. Intrigued, you approach it, admiring its appearance with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. The camera's folding body, made of worn leather, emanates timeless beauty and carved nameplates on the side hint at its extensive past.

Upon closer inspection, you recognise it as a model from the 1940s or 1950s, similar to the Agifold your grandmother used to own. Memories of her beloved camera fill your thoughts, followed by a twinge of regret that you never got the opportunity to use it yourself. But now, with no one to stop you, an opportunity presents itself.

Gently, you pick it up and inspect it further, opening the back to see some film still lodged inside. You gently pick up the camera, its weight cooling in your hands. Opening the back panel, you uncover a roll of film that is still wedged inside.

Raising the camera to your eye, you adjust the focus and squint, searching for the perfect angle to capture the essence of the room. With a steady hand, you press the shutter button, the satisfying click echoing in the silence of the room.

Flash.

As you lower the camera from your eye, a satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your lips. But as your gaze sweeps across the room, a chill creeps down your spine, and the smile freezes on your face.

Something is…different.

You scour the room, your eyes darting from one corner to the next in an attempt to discern what has changed so abruptly. It feels as though the world shifted in the blink of an eye, leaving you disoriented and on edge. The familiar sights of the room offer little solace as you search for any sign of what could have caused the sudden disturbance.

The painting of the sheep still hangs on the wall, which means the door remains shut - good. The books on the shelves remain undisturbed, their spines aligned in neat rows. The windows are shut tight, allowing only a faint breeze to filter through the cracks in the draught. Everything appears to be as it was before, except for one glaring absence.

Sunghoon.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that the lifelike doll is no longer within your line of sight. He has vanished without a trace, leaving behind only an eerie emptiness in his wake.

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of his disappearance. Despite Jaeyun's assurances that his brothers are harmless, you cannot shake the feeling of unease that settles over you like a heavy fog. Even though Jaeyun is kind to you, the others may not share his benevolence. In a house filled with secrets and shadows, trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the slightest whisper of doubt. 

“You shouldn’t go around touching things that aren’t yours,” a hushed voice flows from behind you, taking advantage of your transfixed body to reach around your waist and take the camera from your trembling hands.

As he lets out a chuckle, Sunghoon moves around you with grace, returning the camera to its rightful place on the shelf. His towering presence now looms over you, casting a shadow that seems to swallow you whole.

Yet, you don’t feel threatened like you thought you would, somehow it was his lack of presence that put you on edge but now that he is standing before you, you know deep down you are in no harm. Your body relaxes a little, your spine finding its strength again as you straighten your posture.

Your movements amuse Sunghoon, his tongue running along his prominent canine as he smirks, “You don’t seem surprised?” he asks but it’s more of a statement than a question. He knows you must have already been in on their secret, “So was it Jaeyun? Did he spill like we thought he would?”

Jaeyun’s saddened face pops up into your head after your first time with him, begging you not to tell the others as they already see him as incompetent. The memory tickles your heart and you start to shake your head definitively, “No, I am shocked, look!” you say, bringing up your shaky hands to his eye level, a feeble attempt to convince Sunghoon.

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you question how I moved from my bedroom to the library without you carting me around in that fuck awful wheelchair?” Sunghoon queries, raising his eyebrow in mock suspicion. He knows you know, he’s just waiting for you to admit it.

“No, I…I just thought…I was…”

“You are a terrible liar, Y/N,” he scoffs out an endeared laugh and pushes your hand away from his face, “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as Sunghoon’s stare holds you captive, those beautiful glass eyes slowly dissolving your loyalty to Jaeyun. You are trying so hard to come up with an excuse as to how you know their secret but the doll before you is so alluring in his beauty that your brain might as well be replaced with a tin of mushy peas.

He licks his bottom lip and starts to laugh as your silence becomes his confirmation. 

“Shit,” you huff out, looking down, feeling bad for betraying Jaeyun like this. One tiny secret was all you had to keep and you’ve given it up without even uttering a word. Fuck these dolls and their power over your resolve.

Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief, “He really can’t keep his mouth shut,” he says to himself quietly, astonished that he even had any faith in the yapping puppy to begin with.

Your back goes up, eyebrows knitting together, “Hey! Don’t blame him like that,” you say defensively.

He halts his laughter and slowly looks at you, tilting his head, “Oh?...oh…” he mutters, a wide smile of bewilderment appearing on his face as he starts to piece you and Jaeyun’s relationship together, “How on earth did he manage to pull you? Did he give you a bat of his lashes and that signature pout? Did he make his eyes do that stupid sparkle? Hmm?”

You're taken aback by Sunghoon's accurate description, a mix of surprise and embarrassment colouring your expression. How did he know exactly what Jaeyun had done to win you over? Does Jaeyun do this with every housesitter?

Sunghoon watches your reaction with amusement, his grin widening as he sees the realisation dawn on you. "Ah, I see it now," he says, his voice tinged with playful mockery, "He's quite the charmer, isn't he? You know, he isn’t as innocent as he looks, he knows what he is doing."

You shift from one foot to another, looking down at your hands. It’s embarrassing for any woman to be hit with the truck of truth, especially when it’s about succumbing to a man, but a doll? That’s even more humbling. 

Lifting your chin, he gives you a smug smile as he sees inside your mind, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed, baby girl, Soonyeol is the same. She loves it - to look after him, coddle him whenever he wants, and give him kisses in passing,”  he leans down to make direct eye contact with you, a flash of something behind his iris’ brings you to attention as he continues, “That’s all that matters, isn’t it, that you have fun?”

You feel yourself nodding because he’s right. Inside of yourself, you knew Jaeyun was luring you into bed but you wanted it just as much as him, so did you really get played? And you enjoy his company, his constant telling of stories and his high energy, you’ve grown to cherish him with each passing conversation. 

Sunghoon observes the gears turning in your mind. "Can I tell you something?" he asks, his lips whispering over your cheek. You nod, permitting him to continue, your eyes fixed on his as he leans in closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear. "He's been unusually happy since you arrived," he murmurs softly, "I think you might be his new favourite person."

His admission causes a warm flush to spread across your cheeks, a mixture of surprise and delight flooding your senses. Knowing that Jaeyun feels a similar connection to you fills you with a sense of happiness and validation. You can envision Jaeyun becoming a lifelong friend, someone you cherish deeply.

While his initial intent might have been to charm you into fucking him, the time you've spent together since then feels genuine and sincere. You take comfort in knowing that Jaeyun values your companionship and enjoys your presence for more than just physical intimacy.

Sunghoon inhales sharply through his teeth, a disapproving tsk escaping him, "I don't think Soonyeol would be too pleased about that," he remarks, pulling back slightly as if considering the ramifications. "After all, Jaeyun is her favourite, and if she were to discover you've been fucking her precious little puppy..."

Your eyes widen in alarm as you grasp the implication of his words, shaking your head frantically as you instinctively raise your hands in a defensive gesture, "No, no, no, you can't tell her!" you exclaim, your voice tinged with desperation. You find yourself on the verge of pleading, almost dropping to your knees in a last-ditch effort to appeal to Sunghoon's mercy, "I need this job," you implore, your voice trembling with anxiety.

Sunghoon's lips curl into a sly smirk as he watches your panic-stricken reaction. "Well, I suppose I could keep my mouth shut..." he muses, drawing out the suspense and relishing in your apprehension.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hang on to his words, hope flickering within you at the possibility of him relenting. But just as quickly as your hope appears, it’s gone as you see the dark shimmer in his eyes behind his glasses, the way his tongue is sitting on the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

“You can’t be serious? You’re blackmailing me into having sex with you?” you retort, the revulsion evident in your tone.

"I'm not a creep, Y/N, I wouldn't do that," Sunghoon responds, a hint of offence lacing his words. As you meet his gaze, you feel a pang of regret for assuming the worst about him. But he lowers his voice, his eyes hooded as they lock onto yours. "I'd only fuck you if you wanted me to," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You find yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, a nervous habit forming as you bite your lip.

Sunghoon's hands find their way to your waist, drawing you closer until he’s pressed firmly against you. His nearness is intoxicating, and you can't help but tip-toe to etch closer to his face, craving more of his presence. His lips hover tantalisingly close to yours, teasing you with the promise of something more.

"Oh? Would you like that?" he asks smugly, his grip on your waist tightening as he effortlessly makes you melt under his touch, succumbing to him like putty in his hands. It's crazy how much power these dolls possess over you, their allure is irresistible and their influence undeniable.

His smug expression only adds to the internal chaos, making you feel both irritated and strangely drawn to him. You want this more than you would like to admit, perhaps it was the comfort he was bringing to you after your ordeal with the door, or maybe it’s because you’re an idiot that simply wants to fuck him.

Sometimes there is no other reason than pure lust.

Sunghoon's grin widens as he sees you surrender to him, his fingers dancing on your waist as he leans in even closer, closing the already minimal gap between your lips and before you can fully comprehend what's happening, his lips brush against yours in a teasingly soft caress. It's a fleeting touch, but it ignites a fire within you, awakening something.

You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are in this moment, how easily Sunghoon has managed to unravel your defences and ensnare you in his web of temptation. He is doing exactly what Jaeyun did to you last week, and just the same, you’re letting him because you want it.

"Tell me to stop," Sunghoon whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. His hands continue their gentle exploration, tracing the contours of your sides with a feather-light touch that sends tremors of pleasure coursing through your body.

It's a cruel temptation, the way he places the power in your hands, knowing full well that you won't utter that simple word; not when every caress feels like fire against your shivering skin.

Instead, you close the gap, your mouth melding against his as your once shaky hands now thread through his hair, pulling him further into you. You can feel his victorious smile against your lips as he guides you to sit on the very desk you were snooping around earlier, pressing your ass against the edge.

He briskly undoes your jean buttons, his lips planting one long kiss on yours before he sinks past your tits and stomach until he is on his knees in front of your pussy. Teasingly, he pulls down your bottoms, slowly but surely exposing your dampened core to him.

“There you are,” he mutters, placing a gentle peck on your pubic bone, his lips lingering there as he savours the moment. He looks up at you behind his glasses and smirks as he sees your chest rising and falling in anticipation, “I’ll make sure you feel good, baby girl, don’t worry.”

His smirk widens as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he trails kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Each touch is deliberate, calculated to elicit a response from you, and you can't help but arch your back in anticipation, silently urging him to continue.

With a soft sigh of contentment, Sunghoon grants your unspoken desires, his tongue delicately tracing the beginning of your slit. He flattens it against your tender flesh, savouring the taste of you as he lingers there, lost in the intoxicating sensation of your essence. 

You grind your hips onto his face and before you know it, you’re riding his face, using your hips to move your clit along his rigid tongue. Your fingers desperately seek to find refuge on a surface to steady you, which they find in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp to help anchor you.

Sunghoon is loving it as much as you are, the smile on his face is a testament to this. He pries your legs further apart to sink his mouth further into your heat, the tip of his wet muscle now working in tandem with your hips to help you out.

"F-fuck," you moan breathlessly, your body arching instinctively towards him as he spreads your folds between the fingers of his right hand. Anticipation courses through your veins as he teases you with soft, long licks, each stroke of his tongue sending waves cascading through your body.

You're consumed by both pleasure and longing, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his touch. Every lingering, deliberate swipe of his tongue against your clit makes it throb with need, and you find yourself clenching around nothing, yearning for more.

You want him to go faster, to get you to the edge quickly so he can fuck you against this desk, but at the same time, you're intoxicated by the slow, deliberate pace of his movements. He’s so good at this it’s almost awe-inspiring. 

Sunghoon's long fingers stroke up and down your folds with a delicate touch, savouring the sight of you spread open before him. But he needs more, he wants to see you completely exposed and at his mercy. With a determined gaze, he shifts your legs over his shoulders, positioning you firmly on the edge of the wooden desk.

"Your pussy is the closest to heaven I'll ever get," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your needy expression. Your whimper for attention to your clit only fuels his desire further, "I want to make you beg so bad, baby girl," he adds, his voice dripping with need, "but I don't want to wait to see what it feels like to have you cumming on my tongue."

The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it, your desire overriding any sense of restraint, "Please, Sunghoon," you moan, your hips instinctively thrusting towards him, begging for his touch.

He can't resist the temptation any longer. With a hunger that borders on desperation, Sunghoon spreads your folds open once again, his gaze fixated on you in this new position. He licks his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening wetness.

His tongue flicks over your hood, teasing your clit with quick, back-and-forth strokes that send electric shocks through your veins. You writhe beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensation of his touch as he expertly pushes you to the edge. 

Sunghoon’s glasses steam up as he switches between licking and sucking your clit, drawing out moans of pleasure from both of you. There is nothing he loves more than eating pussy, the feeling of someone’s sweetness on his tongue is the best feeling he’ll ever know, he could spend hours just worshipping each and every cunt on the planet.

But he knew from the moment you walked in, that he had to have just one taste of you.

“Sunghoon, fuck,” you moan through bated breaths, holding his head hostage between your legs - not that he minds, the desperation your exhibiting only heightens his desire to consume every part of you, to make you unravel under his touch.

Your back presses against the desk, the crumpled documents from Soonyeol's work forgotten beneath your squirming body. In this moment, nothing matters except the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.

Sensing that you're on the brink of orgasm, Sunghoon dips two of his fingers into your warm, inviting heat, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Sunghoon, yes," you scream, your voice filled with desperation and hunger as his fingers join his mouth to drive you wild. You're teetering on the verge of bliss, your body twitching with anticipation as he deftly guides you to the peaks of pleasure.

"That's it, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let go for me..."

As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, you cry out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of your release. Sunghoon watches you with a satisfied smile, his own desire burning brightly in his eyes. His fingers never let up, continuing to pump in and out of you as your climax washes over you, coating his hand and even spurting onto his face.

Standing up, Sunghoon keeps his digits buried deep inside you, still wriggling them around as he leans over your spent body on the desk. "If this is you with just my mouth and fingers," he says, pausing to give you a sweet kiss, "then just imagine you on my cock."

His words send a shiver of want down your spine, and you can't help but imagine the feeling of him buried deep inside you, filling you completely. The thought alone is enough to reignite the fire of desire within you, and you find yourself yearning for more of him, for the pleasure only he can provide.

Withdrawing his fingers from you, he brings them to his mouth, licking himself clean of your cum. The sight has you gasping, wishing his mouth was back on you, using that tongue just one more time. Sunghoon sees the need in your eyes and smiles cockily.

"You want a taste?" he asks, already offering his fingers to your parted lips. You eagerly accept, sucking and licking them clean, savouring the lingering taste of yourself on his skin. "You taste unreal, right?" he remarks, his voice husky with desire.

You nod, popping your mouth off his fingers, "How can you taste me if you've got no taste buds?" you ask, genuinely curious. There's still so much you don't know about these dolls, and each revelation only adds to your intrigue.

"Ah, we're all different makes. Some have functions others don't," Sunghoon explains as he begins to undress, leaving him in only his boxers and glasses.

"So you can taste? What can the others do?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

"You bored of me already, baby girl?" he teases, deflecting your question with a smirk. His hands grip the bottom of your t-shirt, and with a swift motion, he lifts it over your head, leaving you exposed and vulnerable on the desk, "The real question you should be asking is what else I can do."

You lie naked before him, anticipation palpable in your expression as you look him up and down, suddenly intrigued by the possibilities. "What can you do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, eager to discover the depths of pleasure he can offer.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

He pushes his boxers down, revealing his throbbing arousal. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, his length throbbing in his hands. Each time he pumps, the pulsing of the fake veins quickens. He presses his cock against your folds and you feel the pulse.

"Do you feel it?" Sunghoon asks, already knowing the answer as he watches you involuntarily move your hips, seeking more of the delicious friction his cock provides.

You nod eagerly, your desire mounting with each passing moment. The anticipation of what's to come sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you can't help but yearn for more of him.

You understand Soonyeol a lot more now.

Slowly, Sunghoon guides himself to your entrance to let you feel the throbbing more intensely as he begins to push inside you. The sensation is electrifying, sending your body into a flush as he fills you completely with his length.

Imagine if every man possessed this kind of touch; maybe, just maybe, there'd be less reason to complain. It's like slipping into a dream, feeling his hands explore every inch of you as he eases into a gentle rhythm of thrusting.

You find yourself lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. His movements synchronise with the rhythm of your heartbeat, building a crescendo of desire.

You can't help but draw comparisons to Jaeyun, though you don't mean to. Their approaches to pleasing you are starkly different. Jaeyun is fervent and eager, consumed by his own need for you. His passion is raw and primal, leaving you breathless and craving more, even as you revel in the intensity of his desire.

In contrast, Sunghoon's touch is confident and measured. Each thrust is a masterpiece of skill and intention, as if his sole purpose is to ensure you experience the pinnacle of pleasure. There's a depth to his movements, leaving you utterly captivated by the artistry of his fucking. He was born to do this.

Once he senses your body yielding to him, growing accustomed to the girth of his cock, he presses his hand firmly against your lower stomach, anchoring you to the desk as he intensifies his rhythm. His muscles tense with each powerful thrust, driving deeper into you with a primal urgency.

"God, you're tight," he remarks, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, "Are you sure Jaeyun's been fucking you?" he teases, his voice laced with playful arrogance as he revels in the control he holds over your pleasure.

As Sunghoon's words cut through the haze of pleasure, a pang of guilt tugs at your conscience. Despite the lust coursing through you, his casual dismissal of Jaeyun stirs conflicting emotions within you. Jaeyun may not be perfect, but he holds a place in your heart that you can't deny.

"I... I don't like when you talk about him like that," you manage to say between breaths, your voice wavering slightly. 

But that only makes him pound into you deeper as you cry out. Your hands reach for his arm as you grip it tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded as he fucks you with an intensity like never before.

Sunghoon's response is a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he drives into you with an almost punishing force, "You don't want me talking about your little puppy?" he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of lust and disdain. The sound of the drawers rattling beneath you only adds to the chaotic symphony of pleasure and pain enveloping you.

Your head swims with conflicting desires, torn between the familiar comfort of Jaeyun's touch and the intoxicating thrill of Sunghoon's dominance. And as his thumb finds its way to your clit, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body, you can't help but succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, surrendering yourself completely to the man who's determined to claim you as his own.

"I hit a nerve, huh?" Sunghoon's laughter rings out, a mixture of amusement and triumph lacing his words as he continues to tease your sensitive clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You try to form a coherent response, but all that escapes your lips are desperate moans and gasps as Sunghoon's relentless assault pushes you closer to the edge. Sensations overwhelm your senses, leaving you trembling and breathless in his grasp.

"What's the matter, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice drips with mock concern, his tone betraying his underlying satisfaction, "Did I touch a sore spot because you know I’m right? That pup could never fuck you this good, just admit it." His thumb circles your clit once more, sending a bolt of lightning up your body.

You bite back a whimper, your mind clouded with a mixture of arousal and frustration. The realisation dawns on you that you're caught in the middle of a rivalry, a competition between two men, each determined to outdo the other.

But amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, one thing becomes clear - in this moment, there is only Sunghoon, his touch, his dominance, consuming you completely.

As Sunghoon redoubles his efforts, fucking into you so good you think you might struggle to walk for a week, you find yourself surrendering to him; but as long as you’re getting fucked like this, who cares?

"Sunghoon," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice pleading yet smothered with arousal, "Please..."

He pauses, his movements slowing as he looks down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Please what, Y/N?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement, "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head frantically, unable to form a coherent response, "No," you whimper, your fingers clutching at the edge of the desk for support, "Fuck...don't stop."

A wicked grin spreads across Sunghoon's face as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "That's what I thought, baby girl.” He kisses you messily, his fingers circling your sensitive bud as he continues his pace.

Sunghoon's eyes latch on yours, a knowing grin on his lips as he awaits your release. The air crackles with eagerness, "You're almost there, aren't you, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice is deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his words stoke the fire inside you, "Just a little more..."

His words propel you over the brink, sending you spinning into oblivion as waves of ecstasy rush over you. You yell out his name, your body quivering with the intensity of your release as you surrender totally to the euphoria surging through you.

Sunghoon stares at you with dark, hungry eyes, his own release near as he continues to push into you with unwavering passion. He turns his thrusts from rapid to sharp, the vibration excruciating with each punch of the tip of his cock to your linings. He is so smug as you knock the lamp off the table by accident, too busy trying to escape the overstimulation you’re pussy is experiencing, but he holds you still.

"Give me just one more minute, baby girl, you can handle it, right?" he rasps, his voice thick with desire, eliciting a groan from you. He's moving with the intensity of an animal, overwhelming yet fucking satisfying.

His glasses teeter on the edge of his nose, moving by the force of his thrusts. With a swift motion, you snatch them from his face, placing them on your own and viewing him through a new lens. He's breathtakingly beautiful, with or without the glasses, but especially in this moment.

"Please, Hoonie, cum inside me," you plead, pushing the glasses to the tip of your nose. As Sunghoon takes in the sight of you, combined with your newfound nickname for him, he loses all semblance of control.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his release coating your insides as some spills onto the desk below. The vibrations from his cock cease, and he remains still inside you, his face buried in your neck as he trembles with the intensity of his climax.

Sunghoon's trembling subsides as he lifts his head from your neck, his eyes locking with yours in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, "You're incredible, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence, “I can’t let him have you to himself,” he admits, a smirk playing on his face.

You return his smile, your chest still heaving and your body buzzing with the aftermath of your shared passion. "He did mention that Soonyeol shares you all," you point out, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunghoon nods, his expression turning serious as he brushes a strand of damp hair away from your face. "True, but she doesn't exactly fuck us every day," he confesses, his voice low and husky with desire, mischief evident in his expression.

"We don't have to..." you begin, but Sunghoon cuts you off with a determined look.

"You're fucking mad if you think for a second I'm going to let any opportunity to have you slip away," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument, "I'll take you whenever and wherever I can, Y/N. That's a promise."

“Am I going to have to sort out a rota?” you joke, giggling as you begin to sit up, his cock slipping out of you with a soft pop.

Taking a tissue from the box laid on the desk, he wipes you down, something Jaeyun doesn’t do at all. But Jaeyun does cuddle which is something you can’t imagine Sunghoon doing. 

As he tosses the tissue into the waste basket and begins to get dressed, you watch him with a mixture of affection and anticipation. "Put me on the first shift tomorrow, yeah?" he requests, his voice tinged with eagerness.

You nod with a smile, already looking forward to the next time you'll be together. "Consider it done," you agree, a spark of excitement igniting within you at the prospect of what tomorrow might bring.

You hop off the desk and begin to put your clothes back on, satisfaction courses through your body, yet your mind remains unsettled. There’s one lingering question you hope Sunghoon can answer before he retreats back to his room.

“Hey, Hoonie?” you shout before he reaches the door to exit. He turns around and looks at you expectantly, “What’s behind that door?” It’s a loaded question but one you need answers. No amount of fucking can make you forget that spine-curling red light.

Sunghoon sighs, his steps retracing back to where you stand, his hands reaching for your face. You wonder what he's up to until you feel him peel off his glasses, giving them a quick clean before settling them back on his nose.

“Do me a favour?” he asks, his tone carrying a weight you can't ignore. You nod, hoping he'll grant your request for insight into the mystery beyond that door.

“I won’t tell Soonyeol about you fucking us if you agree to stop sticking your nose into matters that don't concern you, understood?” his words sting, his stare unwavering as he awaits your response. Whatever lies behind that door is a sensitive topic, only fueling your curiosity further.

There’s no denying you need this job though, so with a reluctant sigh, you nod in agreement, accepting the terms of his proposal, "Okay, Hoonie," you concede, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders, "You have a deal."

Sunghoon's lips curve into a small smile, a glimmer of appreciation shining in his eyes. "Good," he replies, his voice softening with approval. "Now, let's keep this between us, shall we? Jaeyun doesn’t even know and if Heeseung catches a whiff that you know about that thing, he will kill you before you can even attempt to find a key.”

His warning sits like vomit in your throat at the mention of Heeseung, the most mysterious one of them all. You don’t know enough about the cherry-haired doll to debunk whether Sunghoon is joking or not.

You offer him a solemn nod, a silent promise to uphold your end of the bargain. But what he doesn’t know is that as he leaves, you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #park sunghoon smut #enhypen fic #enha fic #; tdh #aj writes

[cupidhoons]

5:04 ⟡ s.jy

genre & warnings brother's best friend trope est relationship not proofread slightly suggestive back2navi

NOTE i made this up when i was washing dishes so this might be a rough read (+ the lame ass ending 😭 so sorry)....enjoy nonetheless though 🫶

"jake! what the hell are you doing!?" you whisper yell at your boyfriend.

"just came to visit my girlfriend, why?" he says with a grin planted on his face.

"you aren't supposed to be here dingus! my brother could come in my room at any point in time and-" he cuts you off with a kiss. a soft one, at that. you almost instantly melt in his mouth — but then you pull away in an instant.

"hey..." he pouts at your action. you look around the room before walking towards your bedroom door to lock it.

the thing is, jake is your heeseung's best friend. as for heeseung? well, he's your brother.

though he is a big pain in the ass — as in a huge pain — you will say that without him, you wouldn't be with your now boyfriend. heeseung was the only reason why you and jake even know each other in the first place.

"don't pout at me like that. you know what you're doing — or more like risking!" you say as you walk back towards the window. "you were just here, jake." you give him a stern look, showing that you weren't messing around right now.

but, he only looks at you with adoration present in his eyes. he chuckles at your words. "sweetheart, can't a man miss his girlfriend? plus, you were in your room half the time i was here! so i didn't even see you." he says as he closes your bedroom window that he just climbed through.

"it's not fair how heeseung gets to see you all time and i don't." he whines. he sits on your bed and watches you walk over to him.

you roll your eyes. "whatever jakey...you know i'm off limits — at least when my brother is around." you mumble, positioning yourself on his lap. "but, i suppose i missed you too..." you whisper softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

he lets out a small hum before kissing you again — and this time you let yourself melt away. his soft plump lips on yours, moving in sync. he moved his hand that was once cupping your face down to your hips, drawing circles around them as he makes the kiss deeper.

you entangle your hands into his hair, leading him to let out a soft groan. you giggle as you continued to kiss him. you feel his arms snake up your spine, pulling you closer to him.

you slowly pull away from each other. "fuck, i missed kissing you." you giggle. you couldn't get enough of him — and he couldn't, either. he leans in for another kiss, but before he could do so you hear a knock on your door.

"yah y/n! where the hell did you put my headphones!?" of course it's your brother. always ruining the damn mood. you roll your eyes before getting off jake's lap to retrieve the black headphones sitting on your desk.

"hello? y/n i swear to-"

you open the door before he anything else comes out of his mouth. "here, now leave me alone!"

"where's my thank you?"

you groan. "thanks for letting me use them, dumbass."

"yah! that's no way to speak to your older bro-" you slam the door on him.

"hey! jake you better not be doing any silly business with my sister! at least when i'm here!" he says, muffled by the door.

permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @kyoaeri @copyhanni @flwrstqr @dioll @wonifullove

#⎯ 심재윤 ( jake ) ㅤ✧ ࣪ 🐶 #enhypen #enha fluff #enha #enha x reader #enha imagines #enhablr #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #jake #jake sim #jake enhypen #sim jaeyun #sim jake #enhypen jake #jake smau #enhypen fanfic #jake sim x reader #enhypen social media au #my works! ˙✧˖⋆｡˚ #enhypen smut #jake smut #enha smut #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #jake enhypen smut

[givemefevrr]

Fuck Me Like I'm Famous (NSFW)

Pairings: dom!Jay x fem!reader

Warnings: Breeding kink, possessiveness, public sex, Jay is in a band, creampies, fishnet stockings, mirror sex, rough sex, hand kink, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), praise kink (kind of), degrading kink (kind of), dollification, etc...

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Jay's pulse raced with adrenaline as he played the final bars of his guitar solo, the crowd roaring. He glanced over to the side of the stage, catching a glimpse of you, his girlfriend. He couldn't help but notice every detail about you—the way your little black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the fishnet stockings that accentuated your legs, and those contrastingly innocent, cute white lace socks poking out of your Mary Janes shoes. You were a sight he couldn't tear his eyes away from. Your eyes met his, and a soft, proud smile formed on your lips as you watched him perform.

As the first set came to an end, Jay thanked the fans for all the cheers and support. He glanced back over to you, but this type you watched his adam’s apple bob with a gulp, his eyes making slow movement down your body before the crowd’s noise returned his focus to the stage.

He prepared for the next set, picking up his guitar again, the first chords of the next song echoing through the venue. Yet, despite the ocean of fan’s in front of him, Jay's eyes couldn't help but flicker back to you, standing there in your little black dress.

Throughout the entire second set, his gaze kept returning to you like a magnet. The way you leaned against the side of the stage, focused solely on him. With each glance, Jay's control threatened to unravel. The veins on his hands and arms popped out as his grip on his guitar tightened, each note he played serving as a desperate attempt to hold back the hunger consuming him.

And soon, your eyes wandered to his fingers that expertly worked over the strings of his guitar. God, the things you’d love for those fingers to do–

But before you could finish your many fantasies, the second set and the third set had already come to an end. Wow, had you really been staring at Jay’s hands for that long?

Jay’s voice is what ripped you from your thoughts, his “stage voice” what you liked to call it, booming over the speakers, energetic and bright.

“Johnson City, what do you think of the concert so far?” Jay asked, taking his microphone from its stand and pointing it towards the crowd, receiving a series of loud, collective cheers and whistles. Jay chuckled slightly at the response, smirking.

He allows himself to bask in the cheers momentarily before glancing back at you for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Alright, well get ready for this next set–it’ll start in a little bit. See you soon, Johnson City!” Jay waves before speeding backstage for intermission.

The loudness of the crowd echoed in his ears as he reached you, taking your hand in his, guiding you close to his body as you walked with him. "You look incredible," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the concert.

You leaned in closer, the scent of your perfume mingling with the sweat and energy of the stage. "And you, Mr. Rockstar, were amazing up there," you replied, your eyes filled with admiration.

“Yeah?” He smirked down at you, contrasting the dark gaze in his eyes as he backed into his dressing room, pulling you inside and pressing you against the now closed door, locking it. “I’ve been thinking about you since the first set,” he tilts your chin up with his fingers, his other hand tracing the contours of your body, coaxing a giggle out of you before planting a kiss onto your lips.

“Here? Really?” you scold, pushing his chest gently, finding the man amusing. “Can’t survive a couple hours without sex, huh?”

But he didn’t let you move, grabbing your hips roughly, pinning you against the door. “I can’t survive a couple hours without sex? You were practically drooling over my fingers the whole time I was on stage,” he retorted with a hint of arrogance, his knee nudging between your thighs.

You gasp, both surprised at the sensation and the fact that he noticed your staring. “You have to be on stage again in like ten minutes, Jay,” you try to deflect.

“That’s why we’ll be quick, hm?” he cooed seductively before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you further into the dressing room.

Placing you on top of one of the make up desks, the cool surface of the mirror with its ring of bulbous lights pressed against your back, he immediately leaves hungry kisses in your mouth.

You responded eagerly, arching into the touch of his rough fingertips that traced up your thighs, teasing your fishnets with a playful tug before letting the material snap back against your skin. A moan escaped your lips into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching to tangle in his hair, but Jay stopped you with a condescending smirk.

“Ah, not the hair, baby. My stylists will get pissed, and I have to be on stage soon, remember?” he reminded you with a slow, teasing tone, his lips trailing down to your neck as his hands moved further up your thighs under your tiny black dress.

He growled softly as he discovered the absence of any undergarments except for the fishnets. “You really planned this out, didn’t you?” he murmured appreciatively, his voice rough.

You smile mischievously, your hands sliding down his body to palm at his clothed dick. “Maybe I did,” you teased.

And Jay lost it–quickly making work of your shoes and little black dress, unhooking the black bralette you wore under, leaving on the fishnet stockings and lacey white socks. “Shit, you look so dolled up like this,” he groaned, his hands cupping your tits, his thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples as he leaned in for another heated kiss.

Grasping your hips again, he pulled you to the edge of the desk, pressing your bare heat against the front of his black jeans, grinding against you, teasingly.

“J-Jay, stop, you’re–– you’re going to get your pants all messy!” you whimpered, concerned for his stage outfit, though your hips still rolled against his.

“Even better,” he rasps onto your mouth before slowing to a stop. “Turn around.”

But before you could move on your own, he deftly maneuvered you so that your stomach was pressed over the surface of the table. Jay’s hands roamed over your exposed back, tracing the curve of your spine with a possessive touch. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, the anticipation building with each passing second.

His hands moved lower, sliding down your hips, his fingertips teasing along your inner thighs, so, so close to where you craved his touch the most. You arched your back, a silent plea for more.

“So wet already,” he murmured, his voice a low coo. “Want me that bad already?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his fingers found their target, tracing the outline of your arousal through the thin fabric of the fishnet stockings. He teased you mercilessly, eliciting desperate whimpers and gasps from you as he circled and stroked. You heard the unzip of his jeans before he suddenly ripped a hole in your stockings.

“Jay,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea for more, your body craving his touch, oh so much.

And so Jay wasted no time, his length plunging into your slick heat. The stretch and the suddenness of his entry was a bit painful, but it was so addicting. A moan tore from your lips as he bottomed out, your walls clenching around him instinctively, welcoming him in as if he belonged there, as if you were made to fit him perfectly.

Jay let out a low, guttural groan of satisfactions, the sound reverberating through the room as he began to move, setting a relentless pace that had you whimpering and whining, his hands gripping your sides with a strength that promised bruises.

“You’re so loud, doll,” Jay scoffed, his voice dripping with lust as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you wish the fans could hear how good I’m fucking you right now.”

You struggled to babble a response back, nodding frantically in compensation for your lack of coherence.

Jay’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts becoming even more fervent as he chased his own release. “Well too fucking bad,” he breathed, his voice possessive. “You’re mine. All mine.”

He leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses onto your back and shoulders, marking you up as he drilled into you. “All mine,” he repeated again like a mantra, each word punctuated by a thrust that left you gasping for air.

Your mind was consumed with nothing but him, his touch, his scent, him filling every corner of your being. It was as if the world outside the dressing room ceased to exist, as if you two were the only ones in the venue, and the fans weren’t screaming just outside.

He leaned back slightly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he angled his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you drool, so cock dumb that you could barely keep your head up, your vision hazy.

“Look at yourself, baby,” Jay commanded suddenly, gently tilting your head up, urging you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. But embarrassment made you close your eyes, hiding from your own gaze.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded again, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided your face to meet your reflection. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice a whisper against your ear as you finally obeyed, meeting your own gaze in the mirror, the glass fogging up with your pants and whines.

“There she is—my pretty girl,” Jay murmured, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection, dark with pure lust as he continued, his movements growing more urgent with each passing second. “Do you see how beautiful you look? How good you take me?"

As your eyes locked with his in the mirror, you could only whimper in response, unable to form coherent words, your body clenching tightly around Jay’s cock, feeling the familiar heat in your tummy build up.

You met him thrust for thrust, rocking backwards onto his cock, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you until it finally snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. "S-so good," you managed to gasp out, your body trembling as your walls clenched around his cock tightly in your release.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” Jay groaned, his movements becoming sloppier as your orgasm washed over you. “It’s like you’re made for it. Made for me to breed you, fill you up.”

“Mph– please!” you beg, your head spacey, your body still buzzing.

“Hm? Want that? Want me to give you a baby–make you a mommy?”Jay's voice was a deep rumble, his hips rocking against yours as he spoke, teasing you. You nodded eagerly, babbling incoherently, your voice filled with need as you feel his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you.

In the aftershocks, you collapsed against the table, Jay still holding you close, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he kissed your temple tenderly, rubbing your tummy, still shallowly pumping his cock in you. The dressing room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, and soon one of Jay’s bandmates were banging on the door.

“Jay, you were supposed to be out five minutes ago, stop fucking and get out on stage!”

Jay grunted in response as he reluctantly pulled out of you, his cum dripping from your used cunt. With a final lingering kiss on your spine, he reluctantly straightened up, his cock still glistening as he hastily adjusted his clothing.

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#enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #smut #praise and degredation #enhypen x reader #exhibition kink #breeding k1nk #dollification #mirror sex #hand kink #creamp!e #top jay enhypen #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #dom jay #park jongseong #enhypen jongseong #jongseong x reader #sub reader #possessive #rough kink #givemefevrr #givemefevrr blog #fem!reader #enha smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios

[riki-riks-chick]

hii!!! can i please request how each member would punish reader after wearing a short skirt? (spanking, face sitting, edging, ykwim!!)

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Heeseung:

He would pissed when he came to pick you up and you were wearing the shortest skirt you owned. He didn't say anything because he knew he couldn't make you change, but he'd be sure to "scold" you later on. He's watching how you react to male attention for the remainder of your time in public together and the more you feed into it, the more his blood boils. "You wanna act like a little fucking whore? Hm? I'll treat you how a whore should be treated."

He'd have you bent over his lap, ass up and your skirt lifted as he strikes your reddened skin after every degrading sentence, soothing his hand over your ass cheek afterwards just to smack it again. You're soaking through your panties, moaning and whimpering into your hand as he continues to talk down to you. He'd make you count as he spanks you, starting over every time you fuck up the numbers, and only stopping once you're crying and begging him to stop, coming completely untouched just from him hitting you.

Jay:

Jay had planned to meet you at a party, unable to have picked you up himself, but fuck did he regret it. You were in the shortest skirt you owned, hanging around all of his friends as they stared shamelessly at you. He was apoplectic. He immediately grabbed you by your wrists dragging you to the bathroom as he locked the door before forcing you onto your knees. "You wanna act like a fucking slut, showing your ass off to those dickheads?.. Huh? Is that what you want?"

He'd force his dick into your mouth, fucking your throat as a means of punishment. You're gagging and moaning around him, tears stinging in your eyes as he fucks into your mouth relentlessly. His hands find purchase against your scalp, tugging hard on your hair as he cums, making you swallow because "good sluts always swallow." After using you he'd leave you wet and horny for the remainder of the party, waiting until you get home to fucking ruin you.

Jake:

Jake loves when you wear short skirts, but not in front of his friends. His best friend had been staying with you guys for the week and day by day, your outfits got more and more revealing. Jake had reached his final straw when he came home to find you laying on the couch, ass up in your shortest skirt. The fact that his friend could've seen you like this at any given moment had him fuming. He immediately dragged you to your bed room, tossing you onto the bed. "Are you trying to piss me the fuck off? My friend stays with us and now you're acting like your cunt is free?.. You're mine and you need to get that through your head."

You'd feign ignorance at his words, only angering him further. Rather than arguing he decides to fuck some sense into you, slowing his hips whenever you grow near climax. He's enjoying watching you fall apart with the need to cum, and you're whining and moaning, begging him to do so. He spends over an hour edging you until you're crying out an apology and begging him to let you cum.

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon would let you wear your shortest skirt, knowing that you were going to be at a party with a bunch of other preying men. He knows how horny you get when you're drunk, so he waits, letting you whore yourself around, giggling with any guy who shows you attention. Once he's worked himself up enough, he drags you back to his car, driving you home.

"Did you have your fun? Acting like a goddamn slut?.. I'm surprised you didn't let anyone else fuck that pretty pussy of yours. It wouldn't have taken much effort with skimpy ass skirt you're wearing." He doesn't even let you talk once you're inside, he makes you sit on his face, his hands gripping your thighs as he sucks and licks at your clit. He's tugging you closer the more you squirm, wanting to pleasure you until it's unbearable. He continues lapping at your perforation no matter how many times you cum. He doesn't stop until you're crying and begging him to, and he still fucks you dumb afterwards.

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#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hyung line #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #enhypen heeseung #sunghoon enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #jay hard thoughts #jay hard hours #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours

[kangnina]

Since you said we can make requests,

Can you write rich guy! jungwon with broke uni student yn?

The plot is whatever you want to write

Thank you!

Jungwon doesn’t understand your hesitation to marry him. It’s the only thing he has ever asked of you. He always gives you everything you could ever want even though you’ve never asked him for anything. He just always seems to know exactly what you need. When your girlfriends wanted a girls’ trip, he bought a yacht for your crew to sail the Bahamas. When you felt terribly homesick during your first semester at uni, he flew your parents in to surprise you. You’re still not entirely sure how he pulled that off without them figuring out his identity. When you call, he always answers. He always texts back. He ALWAYS tells you he loves you. “What are you afraid of?” he asks, stroking your cheek as you both cuddle in your dorm bed. You hate to admit to him that it’s his money you’re most afraid of. You can see the headlines now: “Broke art student steals the heart of Yang International’s sole heir.” He’s the nation’s golden child and you can’t bear the thought of tarnishing his image. “Baby?” he says, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Can we talk about this later?” you say quietly, sitting up and looking away from him. He rolls his eyes and he lets it go. For now. But he knows you’ll agree to almost anything when he’s deep inside you; Stretching you out with slow, smooth strokes while whispering sincere promises of making you his Queen. Jungwon runs his hand along your bare thigh, fingers tickling their way up to your naked pussy. He slips the tip of his finger into your folds as you eagerly spread your legs. You just had sex not even fifteen minutes ago and he’s already plotting on more. But you cracked his code a while ago. You know he’s eventually going to wear you down one way or another. Being a rich man, he’s used to getting everything he wants. He reaches over to pull your hips, sliding you down onto the bed. His face is between your thighs. Jungwon smirks mischievously, a dimple peeking as he kitten licks your sensitive cunt and stares up at you. “Wonie,” you whine, ruffling his hair with your hands. “You’re so greedy,” you moan, closing your eyes as your legs tremble. “I am. But I’m also determined to fuck you into becoming my wife,” he says, smiling.

Jungwon Masterlist

@snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark @wildflowermooon

#yang jungwon fluff #yang junwon smut #jungwon au #enha au #enhypen au #enha smut #enhypen smut #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon x reader #jungwon #enhypen #jungwon enha #yang jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon imagines #jungwon imagines #yang jungwon scenarios #enhypen yang jungwon #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x you #kpop imagines #kpop smut #enha #jungwon hard hours #jungwon hard thoughts #yang jungwon smut #yang jungwon hard thoughts

[pockettwinzz]

Bully - P.JY

୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Lots of bullying, degrading, blood, hitting, trauma, sick parent, kissing, smut, NSFW, fluff, angst

୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : sorry for such drastic turns in this- (i was just trying to make a happy ending or else y'all might kill me kksksks) and yeah there's a poem in it too, i wrote it lolol. I'm not satisfied with this but oh well.. I pray that all some of my moots(who are also my faves) don't read this shi-

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 <3

୨୧ Word Count ୨୧ : 6.6k | 35,514 characters

You hated this place. The oppressive humidity sticks to your skin like a second layer of clothing. Even the air feels heavy, as if the atmosphere itself were a physical weight dragging you down. The sky is a relentless shade of gray, like someone smeared charcoal across the horizon, and the constant drizzle turns everything into a uniform shade of drab. You were sitting on the edge of the school's roof, your legs dangling over the edge. Your school backpack sat beside you, its contents scattered around you like a pathetic offering to the gods of lost hopes and dreams.

The sound of footsteps echoes across the rooftop, growing louder with each step. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see a teacher or a security guard approaching. But it's him, Jay. He struts across the rooftop with an arrogant swagger that you know all too well. His dirty-blond hair is slicked back, and his piercing brown eyes are narrowed into a predatory glare. He's dressed in a tight black T-shirt and dark jeans that hug his muscular frame. You can't help but feel a shiver of fear run down your spine.

Jay stops in front of you, his hands planted firmly on his hips. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the little mouse herself," he says with a sneer. "What are you doing up here, Yn? Trying to run away from your problems again?"

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the venom in his voice. "I just need some time alone, Jay," you reply, your voice steady despite your racing heart. "Leave me alone."

He laughs, a cruel sound that grates on your nerves. "Oh, I'm not here to leave you alone, Yn. You know that." He steps closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I'll never leave you alone"

Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to remain still and calm. You know what he's capable of, and you don't want to provoke him any further. "What do you mean, Jay? I don't have anything that belongs to you," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jay's laugh is cold and mocking. "Oh, I don't want anything you have, mouse. I just want to make you suffer a little bit. You've been so lucky for so long, hiding behind your friends and your teachers. Well, today's the day that all that changes."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, worn leather book. You recognize it immediately; it was your diary. Jay snickers as he holds it up for you to see. "I found this little gem in your locker today. It's been so entertaining reading about all the things you've said about me." He winks, and the gesture is so revolting that you feel a shudder run through you. "Oh, and speaking of things you've said…"

He takes a step back and then, with a swift motion, kicks you as hard as he can in the stomach. The air is forced from your lungs in a painful whoosh, and you collapse to the ground, curled up in a ball. Tears well up in your eyes as you gasp for breath, the wet pavement pressing uncomfortably into your back. You feel a hot stinging sensation spread across your abdomen where he kicked you.

"That's for talking shit about me, mouse," he says, his voice cold and cruel. "And if you ever think about telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you regret it." With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you there on the ground, hurt and frightened. You want to cry out, to beg for mercy, but you're too scared to make a sound. All you can do is lie there and try to catch your breath, the taste of bile rising in the back of your throat.

You try to pull yourself up onto your elbows, wincing as the pain in your stomach flares anew, but you can't seem to get any air into your lungs. It feels like Jay has punched the wind out of you, both literally and figuratively. You close your eyes, feeling hot tears well up in the corners, and try to will yourself to breathe.

A few shallow gasps manage to find their way into your lungs, and with each one, you feel a tiny bit more like you can handle this. You force yourself to sit up, pressing your back against the walls for support, and take several deep, ragged breaths. The pain in your stomach begins to subside a little, and you're finally able to focus on something other than the ache.

"What am I going to do?" you whisper to yourself. You know you can't go to the teachers or your friends; Jay would only deny everything, and they wouldn't believe you anyway. And even if they did, they might not be able to protect you from him. You feel trapped, helpless, like there's no way out of this nightmare.

You close your eyes, trying to think of some sort of plan, but all you can see is Jay's angry face and the pain in your stomach. You decide to wait until the end of the day, when everyone else has left the school grounds, and then you'll find some way to get home without him noticing. Maybe if you can just stay out of his sight for a little while longer, things will eventually go back to normal.

Well, it's safe to say things aren't going as planned. The following week passes by in a blur of fear and avoidance. You manage to stay out of Jay's sight during school hours, but you're always on edge, waiting for the moment when his gaze will fall upon you. You're constantly looking over your shoulder, feeling like he's watching you even when you know he isn't. It's exhausting, and the stress starts to take a toll on your grades and your friendships.

Finally, one afternoon as you're hurrying to your next class, you catch a glimpse of him in the hallway. Your heart stops in your chest, and you feel like you can't breathe. He sees you, too, and starts to walk purposefully in your direction. You break into a panicked run, trying to lose him in the crowd, but he's too fast. He catches up to you and grabs your arm roughly, yanking you into an empty classroom.

"What do you want from me?" you choke out, tears streaming down your face. "I didn't do anything!"

Jay just laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "Oh, you didn't do anything? Is that what you're going with?" He shoves you roughly against the chalkboard, pinning you there with one hand. "You're a pathetic and dumb liar, you know that?"

You cough, trying to catch your breath. "Jay, I swear I didn't-"

He cuts you off with a harsh shove. "Save it. You know what you did." His grip tightens on your arm, and it feels like he's crushing your bone. "Now, I want you to tell me where it is."

You try to pull away, but he's too strong. "Where's what?" you choke out, tears streaming down your face.

Jay sighs, as if you're being painfully dense. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I know you have it. And I want it back."

You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your face. "I don't have it! I swear! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Jay's grip tightens painfully, and he yanks you closer, his breath hot against your neck. "Don't lie to me," he whispers menacingly.

You cry out, trying to pull away from him, but it's no use. "I'm not lying! I swear I don't have it!"

Jay's face turns red with anger, and he shoves you roughly against the chalkboard again, the sharp edges biting into your back. Jay laughs, a cruel and mocking sound. "Oh, come on. You expect me to believe that?" He presses the heel of his hand against your cheek, forcing your head back against the chalkboard. "You're just as bad a liar as you are a thief."

He's not letting up. Every blow feels like it's breaking something new inside you. You want to scream, but you can't find the breath. You feel like you're choking on his anger, like it's filling your lungs and blocking everything else out. The pain is intense, but the fear is worse. Fear that this will never end, fear that he'll really kill you this time, fear that no one will ever believe you if you do survive.

He throws you to the ground, your head hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening thud. The pain shoots through your skull, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Jay stands over you, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched. You try to crawl away, but your body feels numb and weak. You can feel warm blood trickling down your face and neck, stinging your skin.

"I'm sorry," you manage to choke out between ragged breaths. "I'm so sorry." You spoke before you passes out, before your body completely gives out.

Jay watches you, unblinking, as your eyes flutter shut and your chest barely rises and falls. He stands there for a moment, his anger slowly dissipating, replaced by a strange sort of feeling. Regret? Maybe. Guilt? Hard to say. But he knows he can't leave you like this. He reaches down, rolling you onto your side gently, shaking your figure, "H-hey" he whispers "Wake up!"

"YN!! WAKE UP!" Jay shouts, shaking you harder. He feels tears streaming down his face as he tries to wake you up, but you just lie there, motionless. Panic surges through him as he realizes that he might have gone too far.

One of his friends, Jungwon, suddenly bursts into the room, taking in the scene before him with wide eyes. "Jay! What the fuck is going on?"

Jay looks up at Jungwon, panic still etching lines on his face. "I-I don't know. She just wouldn't wake up." He points at you, the tears streaming down his cheeks now.

"Call an ambulance right now" Jungwon says, his voice quivering. He looks at Jay, then back at you, and then back at Jay again, still unable to process what's happening. He dials 911 and hands the phone to Jay, who takes a deep breath before giving the operator their address.

--

You wake up to open curtains and a soft bed beneath you. The room is white, clean, and quiet. You take a deep breath and sit up, your head throbbing. You don't recognize the room or the person sitting by your bedside. Hell, you don't even remember why you were there.

Your parents rushed into the room, relief and worry etched on their faces. They flank you, their arms around your shoulders. "Oh, sweetie," your mom whispers, tears streaming down her face. "We were so worried." Your dad nods, his voice thick as he says, "We don't know what happened."

"Well," you manage, still trying to piece it together, "I d-don't remember anything…" You trail off, frowning.

Your parents exchange worried glances. Your dad squeezes your shoulder. "That's okay, sweetie. We're just glad you're here and safe now."

--

The following months are a blur of doctors, therapy. They think you don't remember anything but; You remember everything. The feeling of Jay's hands around your throat, the sound of his voice raised in anger, the pain of your body hitting the ground. You try to convince yourself that it was all just a terrible nightmare, but you can't shake the sense of foreboding that follows you everywhere.

You hadn't told anyone about the dreams. You didn't want them to worry, or think that you were losing your mind. But they were so vivid, so real, that it was hard to pretend they were just nightmares. Sometimes, when you were alone in your room, you could almost feel Jay's hands around your throat again, could almost hear his voice raised in anger. It was like he was haunting you, reminding you of what had happened and what could still happen if you didn't stay careful.

Going to school back after all this was a struggle. You felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You could feel the weight of their eyes on your back. You couldn't help but wonder if Jay was still out there, watching you too. Sometimes, when you thought you saw him in the hallway, your heart would skip a beat and you'd feel a cold sweat break out on your back.

Your friends were there for you, or at least they tried to be. They made sure you never walked home alone, and they always stayed close by your side. They didn't understand what had happened, and they didn't want to push you. But you could see the worry in their eyes, the fear that maybe this wasn't the end of it.

One day, as you're walking through the hallway, you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. You turn around, expecting it to be one of your friends playing a joke on you. But it's not. It's him. Jay. He looks different - his hair is shorter, he's lost some weight. But it's definitely him. His eyes are cold and hard as he says, "I've been looking for you."

You try to remain calm, but your heart is racing. You can't think of anything to say. "What do you want?" you manage to choke out.

"I-I'm sorry." He says, his voice shaking. "I don't know what came over me that night. I was just so angry…I lost control. I never meant to hurt you that badly." He steps closer, his voice lowering.

Your heart races as he says this. You can feel the fear rising up in your throat, choking you. You want to believe him, but you can't help but remember the way he felt when he had his hands around your throat, the sound of his voice as he screamed at you.

"It doesn't matter," you manage to choke out. "Just leave me alone." You turn away from him, wanting to put some distance between you. But he grabs your arm, his grip gentle.

"Please, I need to talk to you. I can't explain it, but I feel like things have been so messed up since that night. I don't want us to be like this anymore." He looks at you pleadingly, and for a moment, you almost believe him.

You hesitate, your heart racing. You can't help but wonder if this is all some sort of twisted game. But you can't deny the desperation in his eyes, the way he seems to truly regret what happened. "Okay," you say slowly.

He nods, looking relieved. "Thank you," he says, his voice softening. "I don't want things to go back to how they were before."

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of fear and hope in your chest. "Okay," you say slowly.

He nods, seeming to gain confidence from your agreement. "I just want to say that I'm sorry for what I did," he begins. "I don't know what I was thinking. I've been so lost since my mom has been... not so well and I've been taking it out on everyone around me. I never meant to hurt you."

You listen carefully to him, trying to decide if you believe him or not. A part of you wants to trust him, but another part of you can't help but remember the way he looked in your eyes that night, the way he hurt you. You stay silent, not sure what to say.

"I know it's hard to believe me," he says, "but I swear I'm not the same person I was before. I've been going to therapy, trying to work through my issues. I just want to start over with you." He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness.

You're still not sure what to think. A part of you wants to believe him, wants to trust him again. But another part of you is scared, afraid that if you let your guard down, he'll hurt you again. You decide to give him a chance, "Okay," you say softly. "I'll try."

He seems to relax a little, taking your words as a sign of hope. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise I'll never hurt you again. I'll do everything I can to make it up to you."

--

Jay had become a total sweetheart since that night. He was always checking in on you, making sure you were okay, and constantly apologizing for his behavior. He even started including you in his plans with his friends, making an effort to get to know you better. It felt like he was really trying to make things right.

He'd been true to his word, and you found yourself beginning to trust him again. You enjoyed spending time with him, and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that he was a good person deep down. He'd just been going through a rough patch. You forgave him for what happened, and slowly but surely, you began to feel closer to him again.

One day, as you sat together at lunch, you noticed a group of girls from your class glaring at you. "What are they looking at?" you ask Jay, feeling a little self-conscious.

He follows your gaze and frowns. "Probably just jealous," he says with a shrug. "They're just mad because they can't be us." He grins at you, then leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, you're really special to me. I mean, you're the only person I've ever really cared about. It's like, with you, everything just feels right." His words make your heart flutter, and you can't help but smile back at him.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you stand up to gather your things. "Hey," Jay says, taking your hand in his, "do you want to hang out after school? We could go get coffee or something."

You blush, feeling warmth spread through your chest. "Sure," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "That sounds nice."

After school, you and Jay walk to a local coffee shop, hand in hand. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the city as you step inside the cozy little shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and you can't help but feel relaxed.

You find a table in the back, away from the crowds, and Jay orders you both a drink. As you wait for it to arrive, you can't help but marvel at how different things feel between the two of you now. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you can finally just enjoy being with him.

"So," Jay says, taking a sip of his coffee, "I've been thinking about what we should do for our next date. I was thinking maybe we could go see a movie or go out for dinner. What do you think?"

"Already thinking bout another?" you tease, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. "I mean, we just got here." You take a sip of your coffee, savoring the warmth that spreads through your chest. "A movie does sound nice, though. What about that one with the cute animals? You know, the one that's been out for awhile but you haven't seen yet?"

Jay chuckles. "Yeah, that one sounds good. I've been meaning to catch it too. And as for another date, well, I'm just excited to spend more time with you, that's all." He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his again, giving it a squeeze. "You really are something special."

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach return. "Thanks," you manage to say, not quite meeting his eyes. You take another sip of your coffee, savoring the warmth that spreads through your body. It feels good to be wanted, to be loved. You glance around the coffee shop, taking in the people walking by, the sound of coffee being made, the soft murmur of conversation.

"So," you say, trying to change the subject, "what have you been up to lately? Anything interesting?" You want to know everything about him, to know what makes him tick.

"Oh, you know, just the usual. School, work, trying to find time to sleep," Jay says with a laugh. "But I've actually been working on this side project, something just for fun. I'm making a small song for someone." He grins at you, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride.

"Really?" you ask, genuinely excited. "That's so cool. I'd love to hear it sometime."

Jay leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You'll have to wait then." He winks, and you feel your stomach flip-flop. "But I promise you won't be disappointed."

The evening passes by in a blur of laughter and conversation. You and Jay find yourselves completely lost in each other's company, hardly noticing the time slipping away. You can't help but squeal and giggle at all the right moments. As you walk out of the café, hand in hand, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you. You've never felt this way before, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

You decide to walk around the city for awhile, taking in the sights and sounds. The air is crisp and cool, and the lights of the city twinkle like stars against the night sky. Jay's arm is around your waist, and you can't help but feel safe and protected when he's near.

He dropped you off at your apartment earlier than usual, knowing that you had an early class in the morning. You didn't want him to leave, but he insisted, giving you a soft kiss goodnight. As he drove away, you stood in the doorway, watching his car until it disappeared from sight.

--

It had been a few days since your date with Jay, and you can't help but feel a little antsy. Every time your phone buzzes, you hope it's him. You've texted him a few times, but he always seems to be busy with school or work. You're trying not to be too clingy, but it's hard not to miss him.

He hasn't been coming to school lately, and you're starting to worry. You check your phone obsessively, hoping for a text from him, but there's only silence. You decide to take matters into your own hands and track him down. You had even asked Jungwon about it, but he just shrugged and said that Jay had been pretty secretive about his personal life. So, you send Jay a message, telling him you're thinking about him and hope everything's okay.

It wasn't until you received a call from him that you finally heard his voice again. Your heart skipped a beat as you answered, feeling a rush of relief wash over you. "Hey, what's up?"

You could hear crying on the other end of the line, and your heart sank. "Jay, what's wrong? Are you okay?" you ask, your voice shaking.

He sniffles, and you can almost feel the pain in his voice. "I'm… I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry you. It's just… my mom. She's really sick, and the doctor says…" His voice trails off, and you can tell he's struggling to hold it together.

You're stunned into silence for a moment. You didn't know Jay had a mom. "Oh, Jay… I'm so sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" You're sitting on the edge of your bed, clutching the blanket in your hands.

"No, no, it's okay. I just… I don't want to talk about it right now. I just wanted to let you know, so you wouldn't worry. I'm sorry I worried you in the first place." He sniffles again.

You pause, taking a deep breath. "You don't have to apologize. I care about you, and I want to be here for you, okay? Whatever you need, I'm here. Should I come over?"

Jay's voice is still shaky, but there's a hint of relief in it. "No, no, that's… that's really sweet of you, but I don't want you to see me like this. I'm a mess." He sniffles again. "I just wanted you to know. I'll… I'll let you know if there's anything I need, okay?"

Your heart aches for him, and you want nothing more than to be there for him. "Okay, Jay. You know you can call me anytime, right? If you ever need someone to talk to"

He sniffles again, and you can almost picture him wiping his eyes. "Thanks, Yn. You're really sweet. I'll… I'll keep you posted. I gotta go now, okay?"

The call ended, and you're left with a heavy heart. You stare at your phone for a moment, feeling helpless. There was a weird feeling in your stomach, like a mixture of sadness and fear. You knew that Jay was going through a tough time, and you wanted to be there for him. But you also felt selfish, like you wanted him to be there for you too.

You couldn't focus on anything for the rest of the day. You kept thinking about Jay and his mom, wondering if there was anything you could do to help. You knew he'd said he'd keep you posted, but the wait was agonizing.

A few days later, you receive another call from Jay. Your heart leaps into your throat when you see his name on the screen. "Hey, Yn. I'm… I'm really sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know… things aren't looking good with my mom. The doctor says her chances of surviving... Aren't much" His voice breaks, and you can hear the pain in his words.

You're stunned into silence, your mind racing with all the things you want to say but can't find the words for. Finally, you manage to croak out, "Oh, Jay… I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?"

Jay sniffles and clears his throat. "C-can you come over?" he stutters. "I-I don't want to be alone right now."

"Of course, Jay. I'm on my way. Just send me your address"

You hang up the phone, feeling a mix of sadness and fear. You quickly find Jay's address and input it into your GPS. As you drive over to his house, your mind races with all the things you could say to comfort him. You know you can't take away his pain, but you want to be there for him in any way you can.

When you arrive at his house, you park your car and hurry to the front door. Jay answers it after a few moments, his eyes red and puffy. He doesn't say anything, just stands there, looking lost. You reach out and hug him, feeling his body shake with sobs as he clings to you. You let him cry for a moment, just holding him and rubbing his back.

As you enter the living room. You see it's dimly lit, and there's an overwhelming smell of medication in the air. You sit down next to him on the couch, and he leans into you, still crying. You don't know what to say, so you just hold him and let him cry. After a while, he pulls away and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I-I'm sorry, Yn. I didn't mean to… I just… I don't know what to do," he stammers. You pat his knee and hand him a tissue.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be strong right now. You can cry. And you know, I'm here for you. We'll figure this out together, okay?" You say, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

Jay sniffles and nods, wiping his face with the tissue. "Thanks… I just don't want her to be alone. I can't even imagine…" His voice trails off, and he looks away, staring blankly at a photo of his mom on the coffee table.

You take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "You know, Jay, she's not alone. You're there with her, and I'm here with you. We'll get through this together, okay?" You look into his eyes, hoping that he can see the sincerity in yours.

He nods, sniffling, and wipes his nose again. "I-I just don't want her to suffer, you know? The doctor says there's not much more they can do, and I-I can't bear the thought of her being in pain."

"I feel so useless" Jay whispers, shaking his head. "She's the strongest person I know, and I can't do anything to help her." You squeeze his hand and lean in closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "Jay, she knows you're here for her. She knows how much you love her, and how much you're hurting right now. That means more to her than anything. Just being with her, holding her hand, talking to her, listening to her… that's all she needs right now."

"B-but-" Jay starts to protest, but you shush him by placing your lips on his. The kiss is gentle at first, a soft brush of lips against lips, but it grows more intense as he responds. Jay's hands move from your sides to your face, holding you to him. You can feel the raw emotion radiating from him, and it only serves to heighten the connection between you.

As the kiss ends, you pull back slightly, gazing into his eyes. "She knows, Jay. She knows that you're here for her, and that you love her more than anything. Just be there for her, okay? That's all she needs right now." You reach up and wipe a tear from his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"And," you say, taking a deep breath, "I care about you, Jay. I care about your mom, too. You're not alone. This probably isn't the best time for this but, I love you Jay." You look into his eyes, trying to convey all of this with your gaze.

He seems to register this, his eyes widening slightly, before he blinks and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I love you too, Yn." Then he takes your hand, kissing the back of your palm. "Thank you."

--

Months pass by, and Jay's mother's condition gets better. You're there for him every step of the way, holding his hand, listening to his fears, and sharing your own strength with him. There are good days and bad days, but you find comfort in knowing that Jay has someone who truly cares about him, someone who will never leave his side.

One afternoon, as you're watching a movie together on the couch, Jay leans in close, his lips brushing against yours. You melt into the kiss, feeling the warmth of his body and the desperation in his embrace. It's a passionate, intense kiss, and it's clear that Jay has been wanting this for a long time.

It felt so perfect to be in Jay's arms again. The weight of his body pressed against yours, his lips moving against yours, their warmth spreading through you. You moan into the kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair as he pulls you even closer. You can feel his heart racing against yours, the thudding of it in your chest matching the rhythm of your own. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts over your shirt, and you gasp into his mouth as desire surges through you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his own glassy with desire. "I want you," he whispers, his voice husky and raw. "I've wanted you for so long." He kisses you again, more urgently this time, as his hands move to unbutton your shirt. You help him, eager to feel his skin against yours once more.

As soon as your shirt is off, he groans, his lips moving down your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin. His hands find their way up your sides, under your bra, cupping your breasts over your lace-covered nipples. You gasp as his touch ignites a fire in your chest. You reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and off, revealing his smooth, toned chest.

Jay leans in closer, their bodies flush against each other. His lips meet yours once more, his tongue darting out to tease and explore your mouth. His hands slide up your sides, around your waist, and down to your hips, lifting you up slightly so that you're straddling his lap. He groans into the kiss, feeling the heat between your legs pressed against his hard length.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as he rolls his hips, grinding his erection against you. His hands cup your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh, urging you to move against him. You moan into the kiss, feeling the familiar ache begin to build inside you.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. His teeth scrape against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. His fingers slide between you, parting your wet folds, and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out as he smiles against your skin.

You rock your hips against his hand, feeling the need building inside you, growing more insistent with each passing moment. "I need you so b-bad" your voice breathless and desperate. Jay groans, his fingers moving faster, stroking you in a rhythm that matches the ache in your core.

His other hand slips under your bra, cupping your breast over your nipple. You cry out, arching your back as he rolls the hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger. His lips find your neck again, sucking and nipping at your skin as he thrusts his hips, pushing his erection deeper against you.

You feel the familiar tugging sensation deep inside you, and with a groan, you begin to climax, your body tensing and convulsing around him. Jay holds you tightly, his fingers still moving as he brings you to the peak of pleasure again and again. He kisses you passionately, their tongues tangling together as your cries of pleasure echo around the room.

His hips begin to move faster, harder, matching the rhythm of your climaxes. You feel him get closer and closer, and with a hoarse cry, he thrusts deeply inside you, his body tense and shuddering as he releases himself, filling you completely. His grip on you tightens, and you can feel his weight pressing you into the bed as he comes down from the high of their shared passion.

You both catch your breath, your chests rising and falling in unison. Jay leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before moving lower, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck. "You're incredible," he whispers, his voice husky and raw. .

As you both begin to catch your breath, Jay slides out of you, taking his weight off and moving up to lie beside you. He gently rolls you onto your side, spooning you from behind. His arm is draped over your waist, his hand resting on your hip, while the other cups your breast over your still-hardened nipple. You feel his erection pressed against your back, and you can't help but arch your hips slightly into him.

He kisses your neck, his lips trailing down to your shoulder. "I could do this all day," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Just feel you wrapped around me like this."

You let out a soft moan "Me too," you reply, your voice husky with desire. "I could stay like this forever."

--

You were giggling as you clutched the blindfold, "Babe~" you whined playfully, you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest, and then his lips pressed into your neck, just below your ear.

"Do you wanna hear my song now?" He asked, his lips moving against your skin. "I've been practicing it all day." You could feel him smile against your neck. He opened your blind fold and placed you onto the couch as he lifted his guitar.

His fingers danced over the strings, the sound filling the room.

"In the realm of love and devotion,

Where hearts entwine in sweet emotion,

I stand before you, my love so true,

With words of hope and promise anew.

Upon a hill, beneath the stars above,

I declare my intentions, my undying love,

To spend forever by your side,

As partners in life, on love's sweet ride.

I bring to you a ring of gold,

A symbol of the love we hold,

A promise made, a vow so true,

To cherish and honor, to always be true.

With each step taken, our love does grow,

A bond that only lovers know,

Through joy and tears, through thick and thin,

Together we'll face life's battles and win.

I vow to be your rock, your guiding light,

To hold you close on every night,

To be your shelter in life's storm,

To keep you safe, to keep you warm.

Our love will be a beacon bright,

A shining star in the darkest night,

Guiding us through life's twists and turns,

With a flame that forever burns.

So will you, my love, be my partner for life,

To stand by my side as husband and wife,

To share in each other's triumphs and tears,

To love and cherish through all the years?

With this ring, I make my plea,

To spend forever in love with thee,

To be your partner, your best friend,

Until the very end.

So let us vow, on this day,

To love and cherish, come what may,

To walk hand in hand, through life's great dance,

With love and devotion, in sweet romance.

And as we stand, hearts beating as one,

Our journey together has just begun,

With love as our guide, we'll soar above,

In the epic tale of our eternal love."

As the last note of the song faded into the air, you felt tears well up in your eyes. Jay had written this song just for you, and it was absolutely beautiful. You could feel the emotion behind every word, and it made your heart swell with love and gratitude.

He set his guitar aside and moved back to spoon you from behind. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you close as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade. "So," he began, his voice quiet but steady, "Will you be my partner, my love, my wife?"

Tears streamed down your face as you turned your head to look at him. "Yes," you whispered, "Yes, Jay, I will." You felt your heart swell with love and happiness, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. "I love you so much, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

He smiled at you, his eyes shining with tears of his own. "I love you too, Ynnie. I promise to always cherish you, to protect you, and to make you the happiest woman in the world." He kissed you softly on the lips, his tongue tracing the outline of your mouth before slipping inside.

The kiss deepened, and time seemed to stand still as you were lost in the feeling of being close to him. You could feel his heart racing against yours, and it only served to remind you of how perfectly you fit together.

@༘˚⋆𐙚｡Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ : (closed) @vixensss , @chaconne-exe , @heesky , @sammybeefangirls , @tanisha2060 , @kim2005bomi

(bolds couldn't be tagged)

༘˚⋆𐙚｡Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay @hoonieshoney @emi-en

#pockettwinzz writes #divider by dollywons #jay enhypen #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen jay smut #jay smut #jay angst #enhypen jay x reader #jay x y/n #jay fluff

[dotchannie]

:-🪽lazy nipple suckling with jake | wc: 177. (MDNI)

"you're so warm" he'd murmur round a mouthful of tit, words buzzing across the tender skin that he's worked his tongue over for the past two hours, steady circular motions that have lulled him into a daze- vision fuzzing through the edges, muscles getting lazier with each lap.

he's working you down the fine-line between pleasure and pain.Skin beginning to burn from a combination of friction and saliva as his chin grows slick from his own drool- he'd successfully wormed himself beneath the sheets. successfully slipping himself into your personaly space before shoving his head under the hem of the loose bed shirt and pulling your breast into his mouth.

"you need to swap sides jake", you'd coax when it becomes to much.

and he would- bracing a hand in the spot between your shoulder blandes before rolling your body over the top of his and onto the opposites side of the mattress- nipple still caught between his plump lips as he does so, delivering a quick pull with his teeth before latching onto his next target.

𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 !

#is this me making my debut as a enhypen writer :0 maybe #pls be nice to me engenes #enhypen jake #enhypen x reader #enhypen x reader smut #enhypen jake smut #sim jake #sim jake smut #sim jake x reader #sim jake x reader smut #sim jaeyun smut #enha x reader #enha x reader smut #enha smut

[sunghoonsgff]

IMAGINE

was just scrolling through pinterest till I found this...and a random thought just came into my head. You bouncing on his cock like that as he watches you with a smirk on his face, watching you try and get to your climax as he teased you.

"That's right...work for it."

#enhypen x female reader #heeseung smut #enha smut #enha x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #engene #enhypen #enha #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #heesung enhypen #enhypen x reader

[luvlyhyunjin]

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

two - nishimura's sappy show.

Masterlist ✶ prev ✶ next

↳✶ Synopsis: after being fired and blacklisted from the entertainment industry your life is on the verge of falling apart. An opportunity arises to save you when you get a job offer to work as a personal assistant for ex lead singer of the rock band PARANOIA! and now turned model, nicknamed the nation’s sweetheart- Jake Sim. However his image crumbles quickly when you discover he’s nothing but the devil in disguise.

A story of two hurt souls finding comfort within each other in the most unexpected ways.

→ taglist : @slutforsjy @wonwoos-wineparty @nxzz-skz @piripurora @vousty

@realrintaro @yoongi-cafeot7 @slut4hee @chartrucewhore @iveivory

@hearteyesforseungsung @jooniesbears-blog @hee4lifer @direxila

@pretty-bluntz @mandoscyare @chaeyunloveeee @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21

#jake sim smau #enhypen smau #enhypen fake texts #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #jake enhypen #enhypen x reader #sim jake x reader #sim jake fluff #sim jake smau #sim jake fanfic #jake sim angst #jake sim smut #enha smut #jake social media au #jake sim scenarios #jake sim au #enhypen social media au #enhypen jake #Fallen Star #jake sim x fem reader #jake au

[simpjaes]

BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)

The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it. 

MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!

PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k

CONTENT ―  first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex

NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package. 

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he. 

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him. 

It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes.  So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret. 

Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up. 

The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts. 

You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him. 

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his. 

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk. 

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…” 

He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you. 

“Probably? no, maybe?” 

Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it. 

“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”

He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time. 

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?” 

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– oh damn. 

 The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue? 

Fuck.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing. 

“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall. 

Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.

It’s overwhelming.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.” 

You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.

“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.

 He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself. 

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod. 

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you. 

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him? 

Hottest thing ever. Really. 

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t. 

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.

He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.

This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.

“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard. 

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it. 

He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.

“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils. 

“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.” 

Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him.  All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him. 

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.

“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good. 

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips. 

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.

“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.” 

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are. 

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity. 

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan. 

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.

“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.” 

You still laugh, and it still hurts. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enha smut #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut

[yunniiez]

enhypen smut links

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

heeseung

-heeseung bending you over and fucking you fast after you kept distracting him

-riding heeseung on the couch

-heeseung teasing you with his fingers and dick before fucking you

jay

-jay teasing you with his cock before shoving it into your tight cunny and fucking you good

-jay fucking you rough after he he notices one of your guy friends flirting with you

-sensual sex with jay after a nice dinner out

jake

-jake making you play his game while he fucks you from behind

-jake gets needy and pulls your panties down to fuck you while you sleep

-jake eating your pretty pussy

sunghoon

-sunghoon fucking up into you until you both cum together

-sex with sunghoon in missionary

-sunghoon rubbing your pretty pussy through your panties

sunoo

-sunoo fucking you so good, you quite literally float

-having sex with sunoo in a tiny skirt

-slowly rubbing your pussy against sunoo’s cock

jungwon

- jungwon slowly undressing his pretty girlfriend to eat her out before fucking her in all different positions

-jungwon teasing his dick against your pussy

-jungwon overstimulating himself while fucking you because it just feels so good

feedback would be greatly appreciated since this is my first time posting it doing something like this.

like and reblog :)

#enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut #jungwon smut #kpop smut

[ja3yun]

! warning: nsfw (mdni) !

i just had a thought about 1970's detective!jake working late, his mind running rampant with different theories on how to close his case when suddenly you call him, seeing if he is coming home tonight which of course he isn't. But even just the sound of your voice is enough to clear his head.

"can you just stay on the phone and talk to me, baby?"

and you happily oblige, talking about your day and how work is going, but somewhere between your tales of spilling your coffee over your desk and how your bus route took a detour, he started to subconsciously palm himself through his slacks, his hardening member throbbing against his hand as you continue, unaware of what your boyfriend is doing.

he holds the phone between his ear and his shoudler as he unbottons his trousers, shimmying them down with his boxers to free his cock, his tip already beautifully rose pink.

he hisses as he makes skin to skin contact, pumping himself slowly, spreading the beads to precum over his shaft as your voice drifts through the phone. jake thinks you have the most beautiful voice there is to have, like soft, comforting music he could never replicate on his vinyls.

you hear him moaning slightly and pause much to his dismay, "are you okay, jake?" you ask softly, worried he might have hurt himself somehow.

but he feels the opposite of pain, only pleasure as he quickens his pace, biting back his cry, "y-yeah, baby, keep going. what was that about being late home?" he asks, watching as he imagines his hand is yours, your delicate fingers stroking him. luckily for him, you hum in response, continuing your story idly.

jake feels his impending orgasm, biting his lip harshly to stop himself from mewling out your name into the receiver, the skin over his plump lips breaking, his eyes screwed shut as he jerks himself off faster. you giggle over the phone over some coversation you heard on the bus and that pushes him over the edge, his jaw slack as a soft and drawn out 'fuck' leaves his mouth, his voice raspy.

you pause, "jake, are you sure you're okay?"

jake pants, stroking the last spurts of cum from his cock as it lands on his suit, "never better, sweetheart. i'm actually going to come home, wait up for me?"

you agree, smiling brightly at the prospect of seeing jake tonight. jake is smiling too, ready to leave this god awful office and forget about this case, ready to crack something else wide open tonight..

#i just had this urge to write this #i'm obsessed with this look and the ideas coming to my brain are loud #enhypen smut #enha smut #aj writes #jake smut

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this. 

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents. 

Or to you. 

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!” 

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come. 

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.” 

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay. 

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.” 

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head. 

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies. 

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches. 

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes. 

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you. 

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you. 

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking. 

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments. 

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out. 

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle. 

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony. 

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years. 

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat. 

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper. 

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.” 

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs. 

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.” 

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live. 

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows. 

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears. 

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.” 

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?” 

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her. 

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping. 

Sunghoon cries again. 

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word. 

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.” 

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?” 

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. 

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him. 

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?” 

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?” 

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him. 

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way. 

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask. 

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.” 

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.” 

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor. 

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you? 

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set. 

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away. 

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been. 

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same. 

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks. 

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear. 

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.” 

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all. 

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay. 

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home. 

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw. 

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.” 

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking. 

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine. 

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles. 

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?” 

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.” 

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads. 

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.” 

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting. 

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.” 

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper. 

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what. 

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move. 

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other. 

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours. 

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again. 

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed. 

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace. 

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not. 

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it. 

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since. 

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying. 

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck. 

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough. 

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room. 

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down. 

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room. 

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding. 

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn. 

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.” 

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?” 

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed. 

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly. 

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet. 

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch. 

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs. 

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.” 

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?” 

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?” 

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it. 

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.” 

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway. 

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.” 

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction. 

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes. 

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs. 

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea. 

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping. 

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush. 

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used. 

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry. 

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. 

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt. 

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally. 

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.” 

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?” 

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for. 

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?” 

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.” 

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed. 

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.” 

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?” 

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.” 

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak. 

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?” 

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you. 

“I didn’t.” 

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t. 

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff. 

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out. 

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.” 

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront. 

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.” 

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him. 

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.” 

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing. 

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.” 

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat. 

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents. 

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do. 

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.” 

“What?” 

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now. 

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing. 

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother. 

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince. 

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family. 

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you. 

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan. 

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak. 

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush. 

You don’t respond. 

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.” 

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks. 

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves. 

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.” 

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot. 

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head. 

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave? 

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again.  “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.” 

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point. 

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning. 

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing. 

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.” 

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it. 

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.” 

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.” 

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart. 

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead. 

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely. 

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?” 

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” 

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down. 

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it? 

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you. 

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt. 

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too. 

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.” 

“The longest of my life.” 

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her. 

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her. 

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work. 

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.” 

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.” 

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.” 

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind. 

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand. 

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you? 

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D 

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him. 

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.” 

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides. 

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day. 

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.” 

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?” 

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.” 

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?” 

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.” 

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.” 

“Deal.” 

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard. 

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?” 

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.” 

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles. 

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin. 

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. 

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence. 

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.” 

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?” 

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose. 

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.” 

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.” 

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices. 

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.” 

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” 

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.” 

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed. 

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?” 

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.” 

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way. 

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?” 

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed. 

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door. 

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing. 

“Tell me.” 

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.” 

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm. 

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think. 

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring. 

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges. 

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk. 

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours. 

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world. 

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate. 

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.” 

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon. 

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.” 

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.” 

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest. 

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it. 

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.” 

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say. 

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon. 

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news? 

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call? 

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call. 

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day. 

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?” 

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.” 

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.” 

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.” 

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up. 

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm. 

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table? 

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view. 

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table. 

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.” 

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference. 

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up. 

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.” 

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.” 

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?” 

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel. 

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head. 

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?” 

Oh. 

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.” 

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.” 

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too. 

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought. 

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table. 

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on. 

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set. 

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.” 

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?” 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.” 

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy. 

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in. 

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are? 

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon. 

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink. 

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor. 

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.” 

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation. 

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.” 

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it. 

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better. 

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet. 

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on. 

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.” 

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away. 

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.” 

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.” 

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.” 

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.” 

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles. 

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it. 

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you. 

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling. 

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence. 

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you. 

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter. 

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands. 

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart. 

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting. 

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite. 

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger. 

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you. 

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.” 

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight. 

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under. 

You love him. He’s gone. 

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on. 

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing. 

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands. 

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you. 

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him. 

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.” 

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs. 

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.” 

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?” 

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.” 

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it. 

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely. 

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.” 

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest. 

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️ 

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants. 

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t. 

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back. 

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?” 

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?” 

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.” 

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage. 

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.” 

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?” 

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly. 

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done. 

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too. 

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies. 

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over. 

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent. 

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond. 

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods. 

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot. 

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.” 

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down. 

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can. 

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock. 

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. 

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest. 

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise. 

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.” 

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours. 

You nod. “You can.” 

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you. 

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit. 

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings. 

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“And this? If you want..” 

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you. 

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats. 

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly. 

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.” 

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them. 

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage. 

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.” 

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble. 

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls. 

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.” 

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under. 

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth. 

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition. 

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes. 

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back. 

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.sunghoon

[riki-riks-chick]

Can u please make enhypen hyung line, when their gf jokes about them having a small dick in front of other members? 👀

Heeseung:

You'd be hanging out and laughing with the boys, listening to them shit talk as they made comparisons such as who was better at video games or sports. Jay had countered the whole argument with the statement, "It doesn't matter because I have the biggest dick and that's more important." You'd all laughed at the randomness of his words, and you countered them with, "I bet my dick is bigger." At your words the boys grew louder in their laughter, and Heeseung decided to tease you. "Is it bigger than mine?.."

"It's not very hard to beat that." You joked, knowing full well that Heeseung's dick wasn't small, and he was fine until the boys started laughing extra hard. "It's okay, we'll see how small it is when I'm fucking you dumb later."

Jay:

You had been hanging out with the boys all day, deciding to end the day by going out for food and drinks. You guys eventually started playing truth or dare, and when it landed on you, you picked truth. Jake had asked if Jay's dick was big or not, and you decided to jokingly say no. "No, but it isn't always about size." You joked, clearly laughing, but Jay didn't find it funny. "You're really gonna say my dick is small like I wasn't pressing against your belly button last night?.." The table went quiet for a minute after that.

Jake:

You were out with Jake and Sunghoon, spending the day with them shopping and just having fun in general. You guys ended up in an adult store, wanting to take some silly pictures with random sex toys you'd never buy. Sunghoon had eventually picked up a big dildo, showing it to you. "Is Jake this big?.." He asked randomly as you laughed. "What? Of course not. Jake's super small." Jake had immediately laughed, knowing you were joking. "Baby.. Even if I was small, which we both know I'm not, I'd still dick you down better than that floppy piece of silicone."

Sunghoon:

You and Sunghoon had been hanging around the boys all day, it was hot so you grabbed a popsicle from the freezer. You were minding your business, sitting beside Sunghoon as you watched the movie playing on the TV, mindlessly sucking on the popsicle. Sunghoon had chuckled, rubbing your thigh. "Baby.. If you wanted to suck on something you could've just asked." He whispered as you laughed. "I think the popsicle is fine. It's bigger anyway." You teased as Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. Heeseung and Jay started laughing from across the couch, making Sunghoon even more annoyed. "Okay, if my dick is smaller than that popsicle, I guess it's not enough to satisfy you. Next time you're horny, go find a bigger dick to fuck you."

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hyung line #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha smut #enhypen heeseung #sunghoon enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen jake

[kangnina]

My I request bullyreader who keeps bullying sunghoon and others but sunghoon got fed up with her so he fucks the attitude out of her 🥴☝🏻

It was the final straw for Sunghoon. Uni was already kicking his ass and you were not helping matters one bit. It was bad enough he was stuck with you as a partner. Weeks of rudeness and ridicule. He thought his friends could provide a buffer. But Jay just ignored it. Heeseung defected and joined in on the ridicule. Jake would often go blow for blow with you, if he had his wits about him on a good day. Sunghoon even considered asking the professor if he could switch classes but he’s a grown ass man– not a coward. Then it happened. You let a little detail about your vulnerability slip and he instantly knew just what to do to fuck with your mind and your body.

----------------

“Why can’t you just be nice for once? Would it kill you?!” Jake snaps, grabbing his satchel off the bed and walking out the door of Sunghoon’s room.

“Pssh. Quit being a baby, Sim! No one has ever been nice to me. Why should I be nice to anyone else?!” you yell behind him. You grin, turning your attention back to Sunghoon. “Especially the world’s biggest loser, right here.” You smack the book he’s reading out of his hands. Sunghoon’s instinct is to yell at you. But that never gets him anywhere. Instead, he’s going to test his theory about what “being nice” means to you. He gets up from his desk chair and stands in front of you. He smiles softly, showing his little fangs as he reaches up to gently touch your cheek. You flinch and step back, bewildered.

“You look really beautiful today. I love this color on you. Is that new lip gloss?” he says, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. Your heart begins to speed up as the butterflies race around your stomach. Sweetness is not allowed when it comes to Sunghoon.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” You back away again and he steps closer.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says softly. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful. I couldn’t resist.” Your mind is going haywire. Why isn’t he yelling insults? Is this a trick? It has to be. He steps closer again, watching you malfunction. The confusion is written on your face. He goes in for the kill. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you, embracing you in a hug. “I know we got off on the wrong foot. But I promise, I’ll be nicer to you from now on, okay?” he whispers in your ear. No. No. This is too weird. It’s too kind and gentle. You push him away. 

“Fuck all the way off Sunghoon!” He smiles and runs his hand through his dark hair as he shrugs. Every strand falling perfectly back into place around his handsome face. 

“Well I tried to be a nice guy.” He spins you around, pushing you onto his bed. You look at him over your shoulder but he's immediately on top of you. “I guess I’ll just have to treat you like the bitch you are,” he says, grabbing your hair and rubbing his growing erection against your ass. 

“I knew it. Your acting fucking sucks, Hoon,” you laugh, pushing your ass back against him. He tugs your hair harder.

“Quiet slut,” he hisses.

“Make me!” you yell, bucking your hips. Sunghoon releases your hair and stands up, lifting your skirt and smacking your ass, making you yelp. He pulls your thong aside and dribbles a line of saliva down your crack before freeing his hard cock from his sweatpants. “Mmm, I don’t have all day for your little dick, Hoonie,” you snap, trying to keep the bad girl attitude going. The anticipation has you clenching. He smacks your ass again. Harder.

“Shut the fuck up. I am going to fuck you the way I want.” He presses the tip against your asshole and pushes in as you claw at the bed sheets. 

“Ahh, Not there. Not there! Fuck! Slow down.” You grab a pillow to bury your face into as he goes deeper. He chuckles. 

“Aw, look at you. Never met a bad bitch who can’t handle it. Gonna break you sweetheart,” he growls. Sunghoon leans over you, pressing his body on to yours. “You’re so pretty with my cock in your ass,” he whispers, fucking you harder. Your whines are muffled as you bite the pillow. The sting is too much as he stretches you out. His hips meeting your ass.

“Sunghoon, please!” you whimper, lifting your head.

“Ooh she has manners when she begs. ‘Please’ what, pretty girl? Hmm. Tell me what you want beautiful,” he coos. 

“Oh god. Shut up!!” you yell. 

“I know you're a good girl, aren’t you? Getting fucked like one.” Your mind is turning to mush. The praises mixed with the brutal pace is making you crazy. The pain turns to pleasure as he strokes your hair and nibbles your ear. “My good little girl,” he says, his thrust getting sloppy. 

"So good," you moan, “So fucking good.”

“That’s it baby girl,” he says, spilling inside you.

@snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark @wildflowermooon @belowbun

#park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #enha smut #enhypen smut #kpop smut #enha #sunghoon #kpop imagines #enhypen #park sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #sunghoon imagines #enha imagines #enhypen imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon enha #enha scenarios #enha sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon

[sunjaywoning]

— NSFW!MDNI —

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤheeseung nsfw moans;

・:〃 ➜ pairing: heeseung x reader

➜ includes: moans

➜ a/n: a highly requested first heeseung post,, sorry it took soo long :( there are more heeseung posts to come~

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung imagines #enha smut