Hoonpalettes

better boyfriend – park sunghoon

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pairing: fashion student sunghoon x afab reader (feat. sports major heeseung)

genre: angst, more suggestive (mdni)

plot: you find sports major heeseung hot, but your best friend sunghoon isn't too happy with the idea of losing you.

warnings: reader likes heeseung but not really just finds him hot, sunghoon is a little jealous, use of the nickname brat, sunghoon is hinted at being a dom, mild grinding over the clothes. another one that is more suggestive than smutty, sorry not sorry. full on smut is coming i just like to tease myself with suggestive writing.

wc: 1747

Park Sunghoon hated the way you stared at Lee Heeseung as he played football outside. You were both fashion students, and you were both seated beside one another at the only available window in the classroom. You found it the perfect chance to ogle the famed and extremely handsome sports major.

Sunghoon grabbed the edge of your chair and pulled you closer to him, further away from the window. He scowled. He had been waiting years for you to look at him that way, but you never spared him a second glance half the time.

Or so he thought.

In the dark of movie theatres, or between gaps in conversations where he gave another one of your friends his full attention to discuss their opinions—that was when you stared at him in the same way, if not with more burning passion behind your eyes.

You turned your head rapidly to stare at Sunghoon with a glare at the sudden movement, but he kept his head forward as if he was laser focused on every word your tutor said. You couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked, especially since he had dyed his hair back to its original colour as of recent weeks.

You bit the inside of your cheek. No, you refused to think about Sunghoon out of all people in that way. He was… Sunghoon. Sweet, kind, friendly Sunghoon. But you did think about him that way. When your hand slipped down your body at night, it was his name you chanted in your mind like a mantra.

“Stop staring at me,” He whispered through gritted teeth. Your cheeks burned hot to the touch at his words of catching you out, and you wanted to reach a hand out to slap him.

“Me? Staring? At you?” You scoffed, but the waver in your voice gave you away. “As if. In your dreams, Park,” You snapped, Sunghoon finally turning his head to look into your eyes.

“Baby, trust me, you don’t want to know what I do to you in my dreams,” He sounded serious, not even a lift of a corner of his lips.

You felt your body get impossibly hotter if you even thought that human feasible, only just realising how close your faces were due to his previous actions on your chair when you felt his breath fan your face. You gasped and snapped your head to the front of the class, acting as if you had been paying attention the whole time.

Sunghoon’s lip finally turned up at the corner into a smirk, turning his own head to watch the tutor while his arm rested lazily over the back of your chair.

***

“Stand still,” Sunghoon snapped, his hand slapping your thigh lightly. You groaned and tried not to wiggle, but you felt like your legs were becoming jelly.

“How much longer do I have to stand here?” You asked, staring down at him as he tried to pin the two pieces of material together. He reached the bottom of your leg and then nodded, pushing back on his swivel chair to admire his work in full.

You couldn’t help but notice though that even over the fabric, you felt his touch linger as if it broke his heart to pull away from you. You tried to compose yourself the best you could. You couldn’t give into your intrusive thoughts, not when you weren’t sure about his feelings for you.

Sunghoon stared at the two toned pants, chewing the pen in his hand before he let out a loud, long sigh. You groaned at his response, holding onto the wall beside you for dear life. “They look fine, for fuck sake, please get this off me so I can sit down. This has been going on for hours.”

Sunghoon stared up at you, his eyes a little hard. “If your legs give in this easy from just standing in place, then how will you handle having sex? Bet you’re the type to get cramp after a minute or something.”

You slapped the top of his head, Sunghoon yelling out a ‘hey’ in response. His hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, his chin coming to rest on your stomach. You stared down at him, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“What was that for?” He asked, his lips pouted.

“That was for insulting my stamina, asshole,” You snapped, but the smile you made betrayed your faux anger.

Sunghoon nuzzled his chin more into you, lazily smiling as his hands rubbed the backs of your thighs. “Shall we get out of these. Maybe then you can show me just how much stamina you actually have?”

“Is that a dare?” You asked, your hand coming down to push the fallen hair back out of his face.

Sunghoon shook his head. He hummed, and turned his head to one side. “See it as a confession of sorts. Not a proper one, obviously. I need to prepare better for that.”

“A confession?” You choked out, letting out a huff of a breathy laugh. “Don’t joke with me like that Sunghoon.”

His smile dropped, his face serious. His fingers dug a little too hard into the backs of your thighs. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

You sucked in a breath, trying to squirm away from Sunghoon. You almost fell backwards off the black wooden box he situated you on, but his hands were swift to protect you from any harm.

He said no more as he pulled his body away from yours, his delicate fingers pulling out the pins and placing them in a cushion beside him. Once the whole front side was separated from the back, the material fell from your legs in a puddle and you felt exposed, vulnerable.

Being the gentleman he was, Sunghoon turned away from you and for extra measure, he closed his eyes. You could see it all in the mirror situated before you both. You bit the inside of your cheek, deciding it best to shoot your shot now only to be told it was a joke rather than wait and get rejected later on.

You climbed off the box and made your way to his chair, walking around. You rest your hands on his shoulders and straddled is lap. Still, he kept his eyes closed.

“You can open your eyes,” You whispered.

In an instant, they flickered opened. You felt your heart beat rise, and his fingers ghosted over your hips. You wanted to sit down further against him, wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his plush lips.

But could you really cross that boundary? Risk your friendship that way?

A part of you begged to cross the boundary, while another feared losing him.

You listened to the former thoughts finding the risks outweighing the fear of him finding someone else.

Your hands moved from his shoulders to gently hold his jaw, your eyes locked in on his lips. You parted yours, begging for him to touch you, show you somehow it was okay for you to be like this with him.

“What are you doing, my pretty girl? Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours,” He asked, gulping ever so slightly. His hands had the opposite reaction, they acted confident as his thumbs rubbed at your bare skin just under the hem of your shirt.

You shifted on his lap and mumbled, “I don’t like Heeseung. He’s hot, sure, but… I don’t like him,” You mumbled, one of your hands moving around his head to his hair. Your fingers gently raked his scalp, Sunghoon closing his eyes and humming in response.

“And who do you like?” He asked quietly, his hands squeezing your sides ever so slightly.

You lead down enough so your lips could ghost over his, joking, “That actor Lee Jongsuk.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flew open, his stare hard. He moved his hands to your ass, gripping roughly as he held onto you and stood from the chair. “I dare you to say that again.”

You hummed, smirking. “Aw, is my little baby Sunghoon scared of losing me?”

Sunghoon scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t test me, pretty girl. I’m only going easy on you because you’re not officially mine. The second you admit you’re madly in love with me, your ass is going to be on fire from my spanking because you’re being a little brat.”

You giggled and pecked his lips, pulling away. At first, he tried to chase after your lips, but you stopped himself. “Say it, tell me you’re mine.”

You faux pouted, pressing your pout against his lips for a brief second once again. “Why don’t you want to share me?”

“Because I don’t like to share what’s mine,” He stated a little too harsh, causing you to rush out a babble of promises that it was him you liked, and you belonged to him only alongside a mess of a confession about your true feelings for him.

Sunghoon smirked, one of his hands landing a soft spank on your ass. “Good girl,” He compliment before he navigated his way to the other side of his room to rest you on his bed. He instantly slotted himself between your legs, pressing his crotch hard against yours. His sweatpants were the thin kind, causing you to feel the curves of his cock pressed into the thin material of your underwear.

He teasingly ground into you, smirking as his lips ghosted over yours. “Fuck,” You whispered, your lips chasing after his but he just pulled back. “Don’t tease me, please,” you pouted.

Sunghoon didn’t want to give in, he for sure wanted to fuck you as hard as he could so he was engraved in your brain, in your veins. But he wanted to also show you just how much he could treat you better, make you feel real good. So he decided not to go for the rough route…

For that night at least.

Sunghoon pecked your lips several times before he finally fully pressed his lips to yours, moving slowly. The kiss was sweet, gentle, and full of hidden love. Sunghoon parted his lips into the kiss, his tongue playfully poking at your bottom lip. His hips ground into yours, trying to elicit a pretty moan from you.

As if right on cue, you made the sound he was dying to hear. He rest his head in your neck, muttering more so to himself. “I’m fucked…”

closer.

PAIRING ▸ ravenclaw! jungwon x ravenclaw! reader

GENRE ▸ hogwarts! au, fake dating! au, f2ls, romance, angst, fluff, humor

SUMMARY ▸ your house’s prefect, yang jungwon, is the textbook definition of a ravenclaw. as a fellow housemate and friend, you’re certainly willing to help him out when he needs it. but when jungwon asks you to be his date for the yule ball, you don’t expect the trouble that follows.

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.7k

AKA you and jungwon are the definition of dumb and dumber. 

NOTES ▸ mentions of food, not proofread ???

part of the charms and chasers miniseries.

“WILL YOU BE MY DATE TO THE YULE BALL?”

certainly a great start to your breakfast in the great hall. you choke on your orange juice, not expecting those nine words to leave your house prefect’s mouth. you’re not sure if you’re lucky that your friends hadn’t arrived yet to witness such unexpected words or unlucky that they weren’t there to help you. 

“e-excuse me?”

yang jungwon shuffles around nervously, glancing around before he repeats his words. “listen, i’m really desperate. you’re the first person i saw who was available-“

your eyebrow quirks up at that. 

“-and this year they’re making the prefects dance the opening and I don’t have anyone to-“

you zone out. 

sure, you thought jungwon was a really nice and responsible prefect slash housemate. and sure, you thought he was literally the textbook definition of a ravenclaw, but you weren’t sure what to make of this. 

you would even consider jungwon a friend- if someone you only talked to a couple times a week for schoolwork counted as a friend. blinking, you return back to focus when you see jungwon staring at you with a half-desperate and half-embarrassed? look on his face.

you fumble, “uhm….”

it comes out utterly confused, your mind scattered at the abrupt confrontation. with his eyes boring into you, you look everywhere and anywhere but at jungwon. you just wanted a peaceful breakfast, not a massive heart rate spike in the early hours of the day. give credit to your social anxiety and personality to please everyone that made you stutter out a weak, “sure,” and shoot jungwon a half-grimace, half-grin. 

he practically deflates in relief, clasping his hands together tightly and thanking you countless times. biting your lip, you watch as he leaves and your friends come into view, making their way over to you. truly, you have no choice but to wonder what you just got yourself into. 

you find it awkward to talk to jungwon after the confrontation. should you say something to break the ice? after all, he was the one who asked you to be his date. 

or was he waiting for you to make the first move? 

you shake your head, overthinking really sucked. 

“did you finish the assignment for potions?”

you jump at the familiar voice, turning around in your seat to see jungwon looking at your expectantly, although the jittering of his knee below the table catches your eye. 

“oh. yeah. uh… did you?” 

“yep,” he nods shortly. silence overcomes you and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

why were you acting like this? jungwon was your friend (right?), so you shouldn’t be feeling afraid to hold a conversation with him, let alone look in his direction. 

“listen, about the other day,” he starts off and your body tenses. 

“i just wanted to apologize for asking you so out of the blue. i was kinda freaking out since i had to find a date really soon, so i’m sorry i put you on the spot like that. if you don’t want to go with me, that’s fine, i’ll just have to-“

again, jungwon starts rambling and a tiny smile makes its way onto your face. 

“jungwon. i said i would go with you, right?”

he pauses and nods slowly at that. 

“yeah, and i don’t go back on my word. as long as you’re good too, there’s nothing to worry about. how about we just stay as comfortable as we have been?” 

you attempt your best to give a reassuring smile and you think it works judging by jungwon’s sigh of relief. 

“o-of course. thanks y/n, a lot. i mean it.” 

you’re not sure but maybe that conversation broke down a wall and unlocked something in jungwon. because after that day, you felt a noticeable shift in your relationship. 

no more of the friendly surface level conversations about school- you came to learn much more about the ravenclaw yang jungwon. 

entering your house’s commonroom during a break, you’re pleasantly surprised to find jungwon sitting at a corner, looking focused as he scribbles furiously on a sheet of parchment paper. 

there was no harm in sitting with your friend, right? that thought crossed your mind as you strolled over and took the seat across from him. 

for a couple of seconds, jungwon doesn’t even seem to notice your presence. you watch with amusement at the way his eyebrows furrow. what could he be so focused on? 

the sound of your name being called out questioningly brings you out of your thoughts. you look up to find jungwon studying you with wide eyes, a sight unexpectedly cuter than you thought. you internally slap yourself. 

“y/n! what are you doing here?”

you shrug, “wanted some peace and quiet during break. just happened to see you here so i…” your voice begins to falter, “thought it was okay to join you?”

jungwon smiles his trademark prefect smile and you almost choke. “yeah. i don’t mind at all.”

coughing, you glance around the empty room before looking at him again. “what are you working on?”

he lets out a exhausted sigh, and as a ravenclaw yourself, you’ve heard that too many times to count. 

“well, the riddle to enter the common room changed so i had to go around telling all the clueless first-years what the answer was. then i finished the herbology research and had to go on patrol. finally i guess i came here for peace and quiet, like you.”

an eyebrow of yours raises. “and yet you look like you’re still working hard?” 

he glances at you sheepishly, “helping complete a third-year’s defense against the dark arts homework?” 

“helping or struggling?” you snicker, and jungwon pouts. 

“not struggling entirely,” he defends himself and you send him a look, scooting closer to see the sheet better. 

you squint at the questions, faintly remembering the content on the page. as you explain to jungwon, you see his eyes light up as he begins to remember. 

while watching him write down the answer, you smile to yourself. 

“you have a lot on your plate, yet you always seem to be so on top of things still. it’s crazy. i really admire you for it.” 

the sound of scribbling stops. 

his lips purse together as he stares down at the half-filled paper in front of him. 

“thanks, but it’s not exactly ideal when that’s what it only seems like. in all honestly, i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. finding you as my date for the ball lessened half the load on me.”

perhaps there was much more to jungwon that you didn’t know about. you suppress a laugh, “was it really that hard?” 

“it was so bad,” he whines, and you resist the urge to reach out and pet his top of his fluffy hair. 

“then, i’m glad i was able to help you, mr. ravenclaw’s perfect prefect.” 

you can only laugh as he protests to no avail. 

as you leave charms, you pat jungwon’s shoulder. 

“good luck on your test- and don’t worry. you always overthink.”

he sticks his tongue out at you, “shouldn’t i be the one telling that to you?” 

with a huff and a shake of your head, you bid him goodbye. your friends are left on the side to watch your interaction with the boy, eyes zeroing in on you. 

“what was that about?” wonyoung sneakily slides in, giving you the side-eye. you give her an innocent look in response, “what was what about?”

“don’t try me. you know, the budding relationship between you and yang jungwon?” 

you roll your eyes at that. “what budding relationship? we’re friends. we’ve been friends. you know that.” 

she hums, “yes, but i’m also your friend. so,” she drawls on, “i’m telling you right now to tell me what the deal is. there’s obviously something going on.” 

at that, you’re not sure what to say. you have no clue if the ‘situation’ between you and jungwon was public knowledge or not. 

that being you as jungwon’s date to the ball.

the yule ball hadn’t become a huge topic amongst the school yet, mainly because it wasn’t announced to the student body yet. 

jungwon knew early as a prefect and asked you, so you figured you had to keep everything a secret. even to your friends. especially to your friends. 

who knew the amount of teasing you would be succumbed to for having jungwon as your date? 

you shiver. not exactly an ideal situation after all. 

what you didn’t realize, was that the news would be released during breakfast the next day. 

once the yule ball’s exactly details were announced, the great hall erupted in conversation.

“y/n!” kazuha calls your name from across the table with a gleam in her eyes. you turn to her with an easy smile, kazuha was like an older sister to you and you loved her. 

“are you going with anyone?” your friends turn to you expectantly, and your palms begin to sweat with all the attention. 

“w-well, you see-“ you glance around desperately for help but there appears to be no one. you’re not sure why but something in your chest tightens. 

you just can’t tell them the truth. it was so simple, yet something was keeping you from saying that you were going with jungwon. 

“er, i’m so sorry but i have somewhere to be- you know, i have to water my homework!” you blurt out quickly and grab your stuff before basically flying out of the great hall, leaving your friends to share confused looks. 

you turn the corner to an empty hallway and place a hand on your pounding chest. great job y/n, great job running away indeed. 

you take a small breather, closing your eyes and laying against the wall before blearily opening them again. your vision focuses on a clock in front of you, and you suddenly come to. 

“shoot, i’m late!” 

you just barely manage to make it to the ballroom. chest heaving, you noisily push past into the room, attracting everyone’s attention. you can only stare back, in a daze and gasping for air. 

the professor turns to you. 

“oh, wonderful! you must be mr. yang’s date to the ball!” 

as gasps fill the air, you almost collapse right then and there. 

“-jungwon’s date?” 

“does that mean they’re dating?”

“they have to be! did you see the way jungwon looked so worried when y/n didn’t show up?” 

amidst the mess, you find jungwon staring back at you with an apologetic gaze. as awkward as it is, you drag your feet over to your rightful spot next to him. while the professor goes over the details, you quietly apologize for being late. 

“i’m so sorry, i totally forgot what time you told me-“

“hey,” he interrupts, a hand reaching out to squeeze yours quickly. “it’s okay. at least you’re here now. that’s all that matters.“

curse jungwon for getting you into this mess and being so nice about it. you refocus on the task at hand, and as the words fill your ears, you feel the blood drain from your body. 

of course, the whole ball was about dancing. 

another thing you didn’t know about jungwon. he’s freaking good at everything. besides being smart, kind, attractive- you slap yourself once more- 

he’s also good at dancing? 

you can’t count the amount of times you had to apologize to jungwon that day, whether it be for stepping on his feet or literally existing. 

you shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly.  after that day of rehearsing, you couldn’t catch a break. 

you were still nursing your sore legs later when wonyoung quite literally attacks you in the courtyard. you were contentedly studying on a bench, papers in front of you. that is, until she practically leaps on you and makes all your notes blow off into the surrounding air. 

your lips purse into a thin line. what could it be now? 

“you’re dating yang jungwon?” 

your jaw drops as if she wasn’t just talking about you. 

“what did you just say?”

she grabs you by the shoulders, pupils blown. “it’s been spreading everywhere, y/n! why didn’t you tell me? or-“

her words fall on deaf ears as you stalk off with one mission in mind. 

it isn’t hard for you to find jungwon, you already knew what his next class was. but to see all the eyes on you as you drag him away and to the room of requirements for privacy was something else. 

jungwon doesn’t even get a word in as you force him to sit in an empty chair, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

“what is-“

“you tell me. what in the name of dumbledore is going on, jungwon?” you stare at him accusingly. 

when he avoids your eyes, you know your hunch is confirmed. 

"you see…”

“i see?” you prompt.

“all my friends kept teasing me about you… so i kinda forgot to mention that i asked you out on a whim, a-as a friend,” he manages to fumble out. 

it’s not hard for you to put two and two together. you pinch your nose bridge, “so you chickened out and said we were dating?” 

he visibly deflates. 

“yeah. basically.” 

you bite your lip, “but why would you do that? it’s not a bad thing for two people, who are friends, to go to the yule ball together. is it?” 

jungwon sighs and just says, “it would be embarrassing if my friends found out that i couldn’t find anyone and asked you randomly. literally i would never hear the end of it. i know already embarrassing enough for the both of us, and it’s all my fault, but can you please go along with it until the ball‘s over?”

you hesitate, and he stares at you with those pleading eyes again. curse yang jungwon. 

“we can just pretend for a short bit. it’ll be harmless, and after that we can just go back to normal.” 

harmless? normal? 

you weigh your options in your head. wouldn’t it be situation escalate even more if you denied the rumors after he confirmed them? maybe you should have thought about your answer more, but it was too late. 

“fine,” you exhale, “but you owe me a favor. history of magic tutoring because it’s literally the most boring class.” 

“o-of course. i really owe you one.” 

it was a long process coming up with a story. but surprisingly easier than you thought. 

“can’t we just say we were friends and then i asked you out?” jungwon frowns. 

you scoff, “really now? how realistic does that seem to you?”

he clears his throat. “fine. we’ll say that you asked me out and things just went on from there.” 

facing your friends was the hardest part. you had to give them the fake apologetic look and explain. 

“we wanted to keep it a secret at first. you know, since it was so new to us…” 

“you know, i’m honestly not that surprised. I could definitely picture you guys being together before anyone said anything,” haerin chimes in. 

you swallow your spit a little too harshly. before long, sounds of agreement fill the air and you actually want to transfigure into a fly and escape out the window. 

you let out a strained laugh, “really? i’m surprised.” 

wonyoung frowns, “i’m still mad you kept it from me but i have to agree. you guys look good together.” 

you splutter, “you haven’t even seen us together!” 

she shrugs innocently, “i’ve always been watching you two.” 

“creep.”

“whipped.” 

some ground rules were established between you and jungwon. rules never to be broken within your expected duration of (not) dating. 

first, no kissing, obviously. hand holding was fine, hugs were fine, just nothing too far. second, no cheesy nicknames (merlin’s beard, never). you settled on won for jungwon and he settled on- you pause- what did he settle on? after you suggested won, he seemed to be too preoccupied (with reddened ears) to focus on making one for you. 

third. walking to class together was necessary to keep the act up and study “dates” in the library (aka your side of the deal) were every thursday. 

“I think that settles it,” you glance at your list in satisfaction. 

“wait-” jungwon says abruptly before faltering. 

“what?” you glance at him curiously. “are we missing something?”

he mutters something under his breath and you lean in closer. 

“you can just say it,” you shake your head in amusement, “it’s not like this is a strict, by the book set of rules.” 

“clothes!” jungwon manages to get out, “like- don’t couples share clothes and stuff like that? but if you’re not comfortable with that-“ 

you fall silent. 

jungwon takes note of your lack of reaction and rubs his hands nervously. 

“o-or not, we don’t have to-“

“okay,” you say quietly, all of a sudden your fingers seemed much more interesting to look at than the boy in front of you. was it just you or did the room feel a bit too hot? 

you found jungwon’s scarf to be a bit big and a bit itchy, but comfortable. the first thing you noticed when you put it on was that it smelled like him. 

jungwon smiled softly, “it looks good on you.” 

you blink, almost feeling the soft material tug at your heartstrings. “oh. thanks.” 

“see you later at lunch,” he waves and you wave back with a soft smile.

besides the teasing from your friends, you found it to be quite nice- including the extra tutoring from smartie jungwon. 

“i don’t get it. who cares about who started the goblin rebellion of 1289?”

jungwon chuckles in amusement, “the professor does, that’s who. and you will too since your marks depend on it.”

you groan, planting your cheek on the wooden library table. habitually, jungwon pokes your cheek. 

“come on. we won’t finish until 12 if we stop now.”

you let out a muffled protest.

“y/l/nnnn-“ he drags out the last syllable. 

you turn your head so your cheek rests on the table, but you can still see him staring back at you with a fond expression. 

“don’t want to.” 

sighing, jungwon puts the textbook aside and puts his head down so he’s directly facing you. your breath hitches at the close proximity.

at this closeness, you can every speck of light in his eyes. the moles on his face, the eyebags that you’re sure you share as well. 

“i’ll make an excuse so you don’t have to attend the next dance lesson,” he says softly, and his breath tickles your cheek. 

“deal,” you whisper back. 

and yet neither one of you can seem to get up from your position. 

“you guys are sickeningly cute.” 

at this point, it was becoming a regular. after the shock of you and jungwon “dating” had subsided came the admirers and fans.

you laugh dryly, dropping jungwon’s hand and ignoring the look of confusion and protest he sends your way. to make up for it, you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek.  only for a split second do you see the surprised look on his face before it’s wiped away with an easy smile. 

“see you later, won.” 

“bye, baby.” 

again, you pretend not to hear the cooing and awwing from your friends behind you. 

“you even have nicknames?” 

“he’s such a nice boyfriend to walk you to your classes.” 

you shift uncomfortably in your position. “yeah…” 

what was bad was that you had gotten a little too used to it- acting as a couple with jungwon. what was worse was that you were starting to like it. 

he comes to pick you up after class is over. and walk you to lunch. usually jungwon would drop you off at your designated seat with your friends and go to his friends, but today he was stopped by some third years. 

“hey prefect! could you help do my research paper for potions?” 

at the first sign of jungwon’s uneasiness, you frown. it wasn’t the first time you witnessed his stress and exhaustion of being a prefect- and simply a kind person. 

you knew he always tried to help out whenever he could. that was his duty, and his personal values. but the days spent observing him literally pulling his hair out over other people’s issues wasn’t making it any better. 

“excuse me,” you step out in front of jungwon, “but my boyfriend here isn’t your homework machine. he’s a human, and he’s perfectly willing to help you guys out- not do you work for you because of your laziness.” 

jungwon’s eyes widen, mouth opened to object, but you angrily take his hand and drag him out of the great hall to a quieter place. 

“y/n- you didn’t have to-“

“they were taking advantage of you. they always do. you have your own problems and those kids need to learn how to do things for themselves.” you were internally fuming and not about to hear jungwon defend them. 

“but it’s my job as-“

“i don’t care about your prefect duties, i care about you!” 

he freezes and your voice noticeably loses its strength, “you’re my friend. of course i care about you.” 

“yeah… right,” he manages to whisper before stalking away, leaving you alone and confused. 

you hadn’t seen jungwon in a while. it’s like he was personally avoiding you, but you had no idea why. 

he stopped walking you to class, showing up for tutoring on thursdays- completely and utterly avoiding you without a single word. 

you couldn’t even approach him, it’s like you didn’t even exist. you replayed that days events in your mind over and over, picking apart each and every interaction. 

what did you do? what did you say? 

“don’t worry, y/n. he’s just going through a tough time probably and wants to be alone. just give him time,” kazuha reassures you. 

wrong, you think bitterly but don’t voice your thoughts. jungwon wasn’t the type to do that, or so you believed. 

the yule ball was still coming up and now you had to practice dancing alone, rehearsing every step in the dark with an imaginary partner. 

you didn’t even know if you were still going with jungwon, but something in you made you feel obligated to at least get the moves down. if any tiny hope in you still said so. 

the day before the ball, one last practice, you thought you heard a sound but when you looked, there was no one. it was probably just your imagination hoping jungwon would show up out of nowhere. 

sweaty and breathless, you lay down in the middle of the ground. and let the sadness wash over you. 

“are you sure you’re not going?” 

you smile sadly, curling up tighter under your blue covers. “nah, i’m good.” 

“but-“

“really,” you insist, “i’ll join later.” 

as the door clicks shut and silent fills the room, you stare up at the highlighted ceiling, sprinkled with stars. stars alike the ones you saw in jungwon’s eyes. 

you rub a hand over your face, throwing the covers off you. 

screw it. 

you need to do this. 

scrambling out of the room with one heel on and the other untied, you hastily managed to dash over to the ballroom. soft music floated over through the doors, and you curse. 

were you too late for the introductory dance? 

releasing a heavy breath, you push past the doors and stumble to a halt. 

your eyes fall upon the familiar prefects positioned in the middle of the room, all students surrounding on the sides. 

and finally, you spot jungwon next to the dance professor. 

everyone’s eyes are on you, but for once you only seem to care about one person’s. 

the professor silently sighs in relief, 

“thank goodness. prefects and respective partners, take your places!”

blood rushing in your ears and adrenaline effectively coursing through your veins, you take each step carefully towards jungwon. 

he has an unreadable expression on his face, which makes your stomach churn. you take your positions as practiced, and your hand tingles when his touches yours. 

it’s silent at first, the period of waiting for the music to start, but once the music begins, jungwon speaks under his breath. 

“you look beautiful.” 

your heart skips a beat and slowly, your eyes flicker to his face. he doesn’t look at you, instead focusing on executing the moves perfectly. 

“you look handsome,” you whisper back. 

the dance proceeds smoothly in the beginning, as if you had practiced a hundred times. but nearing the end, you falter at one move and bite your lip, hoping not too many people noticed. 

“you’re doing good. three… four…”

you look eyes with him, surprised, and in that moment, your breath is taken away. time pauses and the music fades. everything else doesn’t matter in the moment, 

it’s only you and him.  

with jungwon’s encouragement, you’re able to finish the routine without another mistake. and when the dance ends and applause begins, you quickly take his hand before he can run away again, grip desperate. 

“can we please talk?” eyes pleading, he has no choice but to listen. 

finding an empty corridor, you face him on the other side, leaning against the wall. it’s completely silent, so you clench your fists. 

“could you explain why you ignored me for the past week? please explain what i did to you?”

“it doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head, “after today, we don’t have to do this anymore. everything i put you through will be over, because that’s what you want, right?” 

you groan in frustration. 

“who said i want that? what if i say i don’t want it to be over? what if i want answers from you so we can go back to how we were? fake lovers, real lovers, i don’t care! i can’t keep acting, i just want you back in my life,” your voice cracks at the end. 

his hands fall to his side. 

“what do you mean?” he responds shakily. you can barely see him in the darkness, so you take a few steps closer. 

“are you that dense? because i don’t think so.”

another step. 

you realized, and you knew. thursdays became your favorite day of the week. no, any day spent with jungeon was your favorite day. you had become too comfortable supposedly acting with him for all of it to be a lie. and it wasn’t. your feelings weren’t a lie. 

“i think i should be asking you that question.” 

you stop, head cocking to the side. 

“what-“

he pushes off from his spot on the wall, and you feel the action. blinking, you didn’t realize how close you had gotten. 

the newfound confidence seems to fade when jungwon fiddles with his tie, “i wouldn’t have asked you to be my date if i didn’t like you…” 

you clear your throat awkwardly, “so the whole you’re the first person i eyes on and was available was a lie?” 

“somewhat,” he defends himself, “i didn’t know what would happen, but you really were the first person that i was comfortable enough with to ask. it just so happened that i liked you as well. i dunno- things just happened and we got closer.”

“then why did you push me away?”

he sighs, “because i thought you didn’t feel the same way. i got too caught up in being your fake boyfriend so i tried to prepare myself to go back to the way we were before. just friends.” 

you lean in, just a barely. “but now we both know- that’s not what we want.” 

his face was just an inch apart. you could feel his nose tickle the side of your face. 

“what do you want?”

“this.” 

and you proceed to smash your lips on his.   

bonus :) 

“you’re just lucky that i practiced.”

“alone too,” you add with a fake dramatic turn of your head (jungwon internally melts at the sight of you acting like a little kid), “like a maniac in the ballroom during the wee hours of the night.” 

jungwon lets out a melodious laugh, squeezing your hand and sending you a guilty smile. 

“i know.” 

you straighten up, "excuse me?” 

“i saw you during patrol that night,” he explains, “technically no one is allowed there past hours, but i let you stay.”

you frown but suddenly gasp at the recollection, “it was you back then!”

he blushes. 

“you were watching me?”

“of course, i always was.” 

a/n ▸ hehe as a ravenclaw i had to do this :>

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MILF HUNT! ― P.JS

Jay, a favorite among classy wives to hire during the hot summer season for a nice, thorough pool cleaning, seems to have a favorite wife of his own.  You.  Or the one where Jay was the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for, but now he’s making it his mission to be the pain-in-your-ass pretend husband that you never asked for, but very clearly need. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― park jongseong x afab milf!reader  

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

CONTENT―  age gap: reader is 29 and jay is 22, milf trope/single mother reader, college pool boy jay (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and jay really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! jay just doesn’t see it as a moral issue, he is actually very sweet 

!WARNINGS! ―  age gap, jay is somewhat of a manipulator, he’s gentle but won’t take no for an answer. dub-con in one instance. major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink (domesticity), angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits 

NOTE ― this was supposed to be a toxic jay fic but it turned into this instead because i love him so bad…………. NOT PROOF READ, mind the typos. i'm insane for him.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― big dick jay, masturbation, small instance of dubious consent, tit obsessed jay, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish, pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s jay doing stuff to you, this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and jay fucking loves it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true. 

It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of high school. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold. 

 It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over. 

It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do. 

At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool. 

Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a down payment on her own first house. 

Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.

Time changes things. 

Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.

The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Jay, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye. 

Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Jay, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine. 

You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Jay, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Jay actually is. 

He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face. 

Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window. 

Jay. 

Since fucking when was that his name?

“Park Jongseong.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Jongseong?” 

“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Jay more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”

He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to. 

Jay doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boy-toys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.

He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Jay has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women. 

Until you. 

He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago. 

If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.

 He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only ten back then, but he’s a man now. 

Twenty two and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Jay is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use. 

And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.

You’re a single mom. 

A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.

He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft lul of your voice when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. 

 Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.

Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.

God, how are you still single? 

Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?

You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires. 

The point is– Jay wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man. 

“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?” 

“Well, actually,” Jay offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.

You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you. 

Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.

“I’m not interested, Jongseong.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that? 

Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?

“Interested in what?” Jay tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption. 

 “I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.” 

Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even? 

“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Jay is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.

God, it’s so awkward.

“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence. 

“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.” 

Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Jay, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.

The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine. 

“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.” 

For a second you consider that too.

And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her. 

The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations. 

And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Jongseong and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future. 

So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Jay sees it. 

You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.

Jay is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.

And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it. 

“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up. 

“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.” 

You think about it just for a second more when he continues. 

“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.” 

“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?” 

Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch? 

“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Jay ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.” 

“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Jongseong. And for the fence too.” 

He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you. 

“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment. 

“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?” 

“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.

“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a little too perfect, actually.

After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself. 

It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.

Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.

He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.

Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.

And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?

In short, Jay is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.

In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again. 

He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free. 

It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it. 

He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions. 

And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.

Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back home so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away. 

He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier. 

Fuck, if only you knew. 

And  you’d be lying if you tried to say Jay isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter. 

She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own. 

For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today, you’re more thankful for Jay than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.

He was so understanding when you called, even happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two. 

In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Jay shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there. 

Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed like that?

And you’re…

God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.

“Thank you, Jongseong,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, lipgloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?! 

“It’s no problem.” Jay relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all. 

You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is. 

And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you. 

And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Jay little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you. 

Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though. 

And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door. 

He’s truly pathetic for you. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!

Click.

Jay’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-screams “Shit, fuck–”

Jay looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh. 

His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk. 

You’ve been with a man. 

He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother. 

You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer. 

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?” 

Jay fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.

He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.

“You’ve been kissing?” Jay tries to ask nonchalantly. 

“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut. 

Jay watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state. 

“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.

“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”

Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?

“It’s for the better–” Jay says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his façade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.

“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now. 

He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once? 

“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place. 

If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit. 

“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties. 

He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it. 

Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him. 

“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.

“Jongseong–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.” 

In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first. 

Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too. 

“Only because you make it weird.” Jay rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline. ”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek. 

“You’ve seen it.”

You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Jongseong. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily. 

Jay sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home. 

“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”

“Jongseo–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”

A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Jay is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip. 

“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”

You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Jongseong. You can’t. 

You really, really, can’t. 

The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you. 

“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”

“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.” 

You’re shocked. 

“She…what?”

“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Jay shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter. 

“Jongseong, that’s not–”

“That’s not, what?”

“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach. 

“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”

“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”

“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really. 

“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.

“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”

You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe. 

“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.” 

It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.

“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths. 

And truthfully, Jay has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.

“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.” 

“God, Jay.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Jongseong at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Jay.

“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”

“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”

God, he’s right. 

“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.” 

Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.

A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!” 

You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it. 

To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Jay has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.

“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.” Jay smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.

After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.

“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–

And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.

You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.

“Jongseong.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.” 

He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise. 

“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.” 

It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are. 

Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you. 

“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under. 

Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Jongseong, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need. 

Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable? 

Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk? 

Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten. 

Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you? 

Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times. 

“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Jay.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression. 

“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House. 

Why not?

Why not?

Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was ten years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.

“Uncle Jay.” You finally corrected her again. 

She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do. 

And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Jay back. 

Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, and instead crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter. 

You hold your breath when she runs to Jay, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment. 

Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Jay. In fact, the only time she ever did was when she had a bad day at daycare and had a tummy ache. 

She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Jay like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.

You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye. 

His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching the back of your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety? 

And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box. 

He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.

For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed. 

There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Jay did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now. 

But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Jay does a better job at it than you do. 

And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too. 

Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Jay’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?” 

You do see it. 

But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Jay’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Jay knows that.

You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into. 

It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Jay, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.

You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you. 

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning. 

Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself. 

The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too. 

Double the pain.

And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress,  your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken. 

And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him. 

Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Jay as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Jay does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.

That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Jay has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.

Jay has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think. 

Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need. 

His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you. 

Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.

What if you missed your chance? 

What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?

You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him. 

Some nights, Jay does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.

Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.

Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in. 

“Dad said I can stay up late!” 

You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.

“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your coat, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Jay, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.

Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This. 

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Jay has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?! 

Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Jay gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really. 

And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever. 

Not with you, and not with your daughter either. 

“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone. 

“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Jay reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”

The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary. 

You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Jay is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.

“I’m really tired, Jongseong.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”

And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep? 

Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this? 

His patience is running dry.

So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares. 

He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.

By the time Jay gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it. 

You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you. 

Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Jay knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it. 

Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal. 

From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again. 

Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.

And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.

The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.

He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.

And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you. 

Right now will be the first time Jay enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest.  You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward. 

You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.

When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.

Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too? 

Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?

Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.

 It’s all Jay. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right? 

And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Jay swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.

Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.

He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?

“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything  for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”

“J–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.

He’s fighting for you.

“Isn’t that what you want?!”

“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?” 

“What ar-”

“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”

You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…

Well…

“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?

Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.

He’s desperate. 

Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.

You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–

You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.

“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t  be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about. 

You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too. 

You were still a child, and time changes things.

Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?

Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him. 

“Jongseong–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point. 

He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.

You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.

Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.

“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more. 

How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this? 

Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.

 There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.

In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert. 

And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you. 

This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.

  So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In  his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined. 

After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Jay. He wants to take care of you? 

He wants to…give you what you need?

Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need. You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.

And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.

“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.” 

You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.

And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.

Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.

“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”

Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long. 

He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows. 

And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.

His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker. 

There. There it is.

A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.

“You like this?” Jay asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”

You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple. 

And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand. 

“Jesus, Jay–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you. 

That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Jay thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them. 

And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.

 Finally. 

Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.

He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this. 

“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”

You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now. 

“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–” 

“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all. 

“Swell you up, make you glow–”

Oh. 

Why is that– why are you dripping?

He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.

“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”

You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.

“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back. 

“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours. 

He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt. 

He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you. 

“Say something.” Jay whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”

You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.

Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this. 

But you’re not. 

You do like it raw.

“Jay–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”

He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.

“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–” 

He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.

“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?” 

You repeatedly shake your head. 

“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”

“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.

As if to give you everything. 

And you’d argue, really, you would.  You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it. 

You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw. 

Jay though…how can you keep telling him no?

How could you reject him again when you want it so badly? 

Fuck now, think later.

“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”

You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder. 

 He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.

“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same.  “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”  

Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it. 

And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Jay than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.

He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to. 

He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would. 

And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes. 

You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.

“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper. 

You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, heavy, needy. 

“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?”  He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.

Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him. 

And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman. 

A fucking mother.

The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.

And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality. 

Jay doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in. 

When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore. 

He just can’t.

And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill. 

That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it the way he does. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too. 

Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.

When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk. 

“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him. 

Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes. 

The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it. 

Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.

“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once. 

Hard.

Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear– 

“Fuck,”  He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–”  He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”

You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it. 

You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad. 

Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all to happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you. 

He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world. 

More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way. 

And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth. 

“Mama–” Jay soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”

You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full.  And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–

He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up. 

Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you. 

“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it. 

“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”

Oh, he’s fucking gone.

“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?” 

Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane. 

“Yes, daddy!” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud. 

“Fuck, yeah you do.”  He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”

And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you. 

It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you. 

Jay is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard  into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this. 

And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you. 

You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft. 

Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.

He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.

Jay never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Jay mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair. 

Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Jay’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either. 

He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point. 

“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing. 

You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.

There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.

He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him. 

“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.” 

His eyes narrow at you.

“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”

You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head. 

“Congratulations, by the way.”

He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.

“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you. 

“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”

You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.

If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave. 

“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.” 

Jay glares, blinking up at you.

“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.” 

That’s fair. 

“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?” 

“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”

Silence for a moment.

“Maybe even more than I love you.” 

You really, really, want to believe him.

So, you do. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ please remember to like and reblog! feedback would be lovely too, of course ; 3 ; i'm not below begging.

infrunami

PROMPT: ‘fixing their tie’ from list iii.

wc: 0.4k genre: fluff pairing: bf!jungwon x gn!reader warnings: none! just jungwon himself

🧇: im sorry but i love these pics of jungwon hes so adorable omygodddddd. thank you for requesting this anon!! i hope u like it 💗

you were positive that you were going to freeze your ass off.

sitting in the back of the class meant that the cool air from the ac would be hitting you directly, and you had conveniently forgotten to bring your sweater.

but you just had to deal with it for a few more seconds. the bell would ring any time no-

rrrinnnnggg

and theres goes the bell.

you rushed out of class, running out anxious to meet your boyfriend. youd been missing him terribly for some reason. not seeing his face every other minute wasnt great.

you wait by your usual bus stop and your heart trips in its place when your eyes find him rushing to you smiling.

he gives you a big warm hug, that you reciprocate with all your love. he doesnt let go even after a minute.

“won? are you alright?” you ask him, pulling away to see his gorgeous face. he smiles at you, fingers intertwined.

“yeah. i just really really missed you today. a lot. for some reason.”

“guess youre not the only one then.” you say, landing a small kiss on his cheeks, his smile widening.

your bus would take another ten minutes to arrive, so you ask him about his day, as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages.

midway his rambling, you notice his tie a bit loose. not wanting to interrupt his monologue, you just pull him closer and start fixing his tie.

he visibly softens at the action, and stops talking.

you look up at him “huh? go on im listening. i just wanted to fix your tie. dont worry im listening.”

maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was just you, or actually he doesnt know what it was, that made him want to kiss you so badly then and there.

and he does, after you finish fixing his tie.

he pulls you in by the waist, cupping your jaw and pressing his lips onto yours. you let out a small gasp in surprise, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

he rubs his fingers across your cheek, and your heart feels like its about to burst out of its cage.

“what was that for?” you ask when he pulls away

“i dont know. you just looked really kissable.”

oh yang jungwon.

send in a request 🕰️

congratulations again on hitting 400 lily!! i just saw your event & it’s really cute! <33 if it’s okay, could i please request the prompt below from list 2 with riki? tysm! i hope you have a great day/night bestie & ily 💗

“listen, let’s just forget about it.” “you mean forget about when we k—” “STOP.”

untitled.1

“listen, lets just forget about it.” “you mean forget about when we k—“ “STOP.”

a/n: fae!!! tysm for sending in a request gfhejdk i hope this is good enough <3 the riki brainrot i have i tell you. also i have no idea what this is i wrote it in 20 minutes. 🧍i might have gotten a bit too carried away with this help.

riki could only smirk as he heard the teacher call his and your name for the project. youd been partnered up for the stupid science fair.

he walks over to your table, smiling when he sees you glare at him in [affectionate] annoyance. “hey shorty, ready to win the science fair? ive got the best idea ever. first place shall be secured.”

you turn to look at him, unimpressed, “let me guess, a volcano? riki we arent in 4th grade anymore.” he gasps at your reply, over exaggerating his words, “gaspsppspspspsps how dare you? THE volcano project will sooooo give us first place.”

you roll your eyes, “we are not doing the volcano project and thats final.”

riki pouts hearing that, and the part of you that likes him but keeps it a secret wants to squish his cheeks and kiss his pout away.

the moment you think about kissing riki, a memory from the previous week enters your brain. its not exactly a bad memory, its actually a pretty good one [but youd never admit it.]

you and riki had kissed at jays party. it wasnt forced. it was pretty sweet actually. the bunch of you had ended playing truth or dare and he was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. never did you expect him to come and kiss you softly on the lips before shying away. you did wish he kissed you for a little longer so you could actually… yknow. kiss him back. but hey, good to know he thought you were pretty right?

“why the fuck are you blushing in the middle of science?” riki’s voice cuts through your thoughts. not processing fully [and + he was standing really close to you and all you could look at were his lips] , the only thing that comes out of your mouth is, “kiss.”

what the fuck

your face immediately turns red, on realising what you had said. your eyes widen and you try to cover up your little slip up. “NO. I mean- um. i was just thinking about yknow,,,, how pretty those daisies look today.” riki raises an eyebrow at your reply, not believing it. “you were…. blushing,, while thinking of daisies…?” you give him an awkward smile and nod, laughing nervously. “ahahahahahhaha yeah haha”

thankfully, you were saved by the bell, ringing to indicate lunch break. you pack up all your things, students leaving the class one by one. you hope riki leaves too, but he doesnt. you try to ignore him and walk out of the class but a hand stops you. “wait.”

you turn around, biting your lip. “what is it?”

“were you thinking about last weeks party?” he asks you, not able to meet your eyes. your eyes widen in panic. how the hell did he know what you were thinking?

what you didnt know was that riki had caught on. he didnt miss the way your eyes flickered to his lips whenever he got close.

you breathe in and out, trying to calm yourself. “listen, lets just forget about it.”

“you mean forget about when we kis—“ “STOP.”

now he was smiling, biting his lip in an attempt to stop the giggles in his mouth from escaping. he took a step closer to you, noticing how you tensed up. “why? did you not like it or something?” his tone suddenly changes, like as if he was sincerely asking you.

“no, No, god no. its not that i didnt like it or anything its-“ “oh so you DID like it huh?” he smirks. he takes one final step towards you, the distance between the two of you now alarmingly minute. his hands slowly come to wrap around your waist, holding you in place, and you gasp slightly.

“so what if i did?” you say, not really knowing where the sudden rush of confidence came from.

riki smiles, and its probably one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen from him, such a happy one.

“then id do it again.”

[and now they kiss]

send in kisses 💗

Hi I've recently started following you and love your posts 🥺 so sweet!

Anyways, could I pls request a Sunghoon x reader where he comforts them somehow bc they're stressed abt work/school?

<3 thx!

♡ ꒱ more than friends 𓂃 ᗢᘏᓗ

pairing: best friend!Sunghoon x fem!Reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers

summary: seeing you panick over exams was a literal torture for your best friend, Sunghoon, who just wanted to help you feel better. Thanks to his unique way of “calming you down” he was able to do just that, along with successfully gaining himself a date with the girl he liked.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: kissing kissing and kissing, really fluffy fluff ending, mentions of having anxiety, mentions of exams and stress, usage of the word “shit”

a/n: it’s been a while since I’ve written a request so, I’m hoping you can enjoy this anonie! I got a little carried away with this and I hope it’s okay, please let me know what you think 🫶🏼

🖱⌨️ : masterlist

“Okay,” Sunghoon nodded, eyes focused on the paper in his hold which you stayed up preparing all night, for the oral exam you were about to take in an hour today, “let’s go over this once more.”

You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to clear your head for his questions. You were nervous, so much that Sunghoon was starting to get worried about you.

“Mhm.” You hummed in response, clumsily trying to wipe your wet palms on the fabric of your pleated skirt.

You could feel that there were no room left in your brain anymore to obtain any kind of additional information, no matter how crucial it was for the exam.

Yet there you were, forcing yourself to study when all you wanted to do was to go back to your bed and sleep for the rest of day.

“Or we can just take a break here and get some air—” Sunghoon suggested, noticing your struggle.

He wanted to help you so bad, seeing you like this was nothing other than a torture to him.

“No!” you shook your head and interrupted him with a high pitched voice that came out louder than you thought, unable to control your anxiety.

Realizing how rude you just sounded, you looked up, meeting with a pair of confused eyes.

Sunghoon seemed baffled, frozen at his seat while he was searching for an answer to give to you.

“Okay then, let’s—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— shit!”

You pursed your lips, brushing your hands through your wavy strands that had Sunghoon secretly swooning over you.

You really were so pretty, he couldn’t deny it.

Maybe that was the reason why he hated seeing you upset so much, because it didn’t suit your gorgeous face, just like this spoken moment.

You were interrupting him, again, but although he didn’t care much, it was the last straw for you to have an emotional outbreak.

Huffing out a frustrated groan, you cupped your face with both hands, pressing at your eyes to prevent the swelled up tears from falling down — which didn’t work.

Were you crazy?

Why were you yelling at your best friend who only tried to help? And why on earth were you crying right now?

“Y/n, shhh—” Sunghoon called your name, letting it roll out from his tongue softly as he got up and walked towards you with rushed steps.

“Hey, look at me,” he tapped on your shoulder lightly, “Come on sweetheart, let me see your pretty face, hm?”

“I have a runny nose,” you sobbed, “I’m not pretty right now!” you whined, which made him giggle over how honest you were.

“I don’t care,” he murmured, grabbing your wrists gently, “let me see you.” he said, forcefully moving your fisted hands away.

“I c-can’t make this s-stop!” You choked out as you looked at him behind swollen eyes, your lips and nose shining bright red due to the rush of blood.

“Shhh, It’s alright baby, it’s alright—”

“Make it stop Sunghoon, p-please!”

Not knowing what to say, Sunghoon gulped down in worry, hesitating over doing the only thing that came to his mind.

It almost felt like he was dealing with an acute brain deficiency, which was the last thing he needed right now.

Screw it, he thought to himself as he watched you break down completely, he couldn’t bare witnessing the sight of you pouring your heart out anymore.

So with a deep breath, he took your face in between his hands and wiped away the wetness on your cheeks before pulling you towards himself, only to press his soft lips on your dry ones.

He closed his eyes and held you still as he kissed you, pushing you against the wall behind you to prevent you from running away — not that you were trying to anyways, you were too stunned to move a limb.

Despite the wacky circumstances, the kiss was fluttering for the both of you, making his heartbeat fasten as it calmed yours.

You tasted sweet, much better than his favorite candy flavor. It made him want to not stop and risk everything instead, even though it would most likely cost him your friendship.

Or so he thought.

Stealing one last peck from you, he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours as he struggled to look into your eyes.

He felt dizzy, almost like he was unable to stand straight on his feet.

“I r-read it somewhere,” he stuttered, licking his lips, “that k-kissing could help with p-panic attacks.” he said, trying to disperse the strange mood in the room.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so did it work?” He asked, blinking a few times expectantly. Now he was even more nervous than you, feeling his hands shake as he placed them on both sides your waist.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you pouted, crossing your arms around his neck, “it was too short for me to tell, don’t you think?” You teased, pulling him closer as you played with the small hairs on his nape.

“That so?” He whispered, fanning his hot breath against your blushed cheeks. You looked so mesmerizing, he could barely breathe in front of you.

“Mhm,”

“Then how about this?”

Just like that, you found his lips back on yours again, gently moving with a slow rhythm. Delicately, he placed a hand on your cheek and tilted your head as he hugged your waist, wanting to give you what you were asking for exactly.

A small whimper fell from your mouth as you tugged on his hair for more, which was enough for him to understand that he was on the right track.

But instead of giving you more of what you wanted, he chose to stop and tease you a little, just like you did to him.

“So?” He asked, breaking the kiss, chuckling at the redness of your face. “Was this long enough for you?”

Unable to stop your lips from curling up, you gave in and let a cute chuckle escape from your mouth.

He smiled at the way you hid your face on the crook of his neck, laughing along with you over your clumsy attempts on avoiding his flirty gaze.

“What is it, are you shy now?”

“No,” you rejected, trying to sound like you were not at all effected by what just happened, “Why would I be shy?”

“Because we just kissed, love,” he muttered right next to your ear, emphasizing on the last word, “and we did it twice.”

“You meant to say thrice?”

“Wha—”

Not letting him finish, you pushed your lips on his, once again getting the upper hand. This time you were the one cupping his cheeks and tilting his face, causing a heart attack on his poor body.

He could feel his knees give in as he leaned his weight down on you, letting you pull him as close as you wished.

“See?” you mumbled, panting for air in between kisses, “thrice.” you said, giving him a one last kith.

He nodded approvingly as he chased after your lips for more, pouting when you pushed him away, not letting him get greedy with you.

“I see,” he cleared his throat, following after you to gather his stuff from the table since it was almost the time for the exam, “then what should I do to get my fourth kiss?”

Smirking at his daring question, you threw him a sassy look, fixing his tie as you locked your eyes with his beautiful brown ones.

You seemed to gain your confidence back almost as if that anxiety attack never happened, which was a great sight to see for Sunghoon, since he felt like he could finally be of help.

“Do you really want it that badly?”

“I do actually,” he sighed, wanting to look dramatic, “very much, if I’m being honest.”

“Then take me out on a date after this, Park,” you responded, trying not to show how much his answer got you excited, “Impress me and you’ll get your kiss.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “promise.”

“Consider it done then, L/n,” he concluded, fixing your smudged lipstick with a dirty grin on his face.

Oh how sweet it was, watching your cheeks turn red because of him, he couldn’t put his joy into words.

“I hope you’re ready for the best date of your life.”

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ᓚᘏᗢ 𓂃 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ⌗

@gegeetime @sei-ryuu @jak-ey @hanienie @quokkasunggie @02dreamerz @hsheart @jyunillaa

prom for airheads

the struggle of asking your best friend out to prom is very, very real. (or: nishimura riki is the worst wingman around, yang jungwon is at his wit's end, and you have no clue what's going on.)

PAIRING. yang jungwon x fem!reader GENRES. romance, comedy, friends to lovers au, high school au WORDS. 5.0k WARNINGS. profanity, kissing, references to pride and prejudice by jane austen and little women by louisa may alcott

ONE 

It is a widely accepted and well-known fact that you and Yang Jungwon are practically attached at the hip.

It’s also a widely accepted and well-known fact that you and Yang Jungwon are head over heels for each other.

Were both of you too dumb to notice? Absolutely. Did both of you think your crush on the other is unrequited? Hell, yeah. Did it drive the rest of your friends batshit crazy? Of course. Have they tried to set you both up before? Hundreds of times. Were you both too dense to notice their attempts? Well, if you weren’t a pair of lovesick idiots, then you would have gotten together in elementary school.

It doesn’t help that Yang Jungwon has been pestering Nishimura Riki to help him out for weeks now.

Sure, Riki thinks to himself, now that it’s prom season, this loser is running around trying to get me to help him get a goddamn girlfriend.

“Did you just call me a loser?” Jungwon furrows his eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shit, did I say that out loud?” Riki glares at the boy opposite him, no hint of remorse in his face. “Maybe if you weren’t such a chicken, I wouldn’t refer to you as The Stupidest Airhead Around in my head. I even changed your contact number to that.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Jungwon says. “And mean.”

Riki sniffs disdainfully. “Do you want my help with asking Y/N out or not?”

“Yes. Sorry, I’ll shut up now.” Looking mildly chastised, Jungwon glares at the soggy peas on his lunch tray as though they would disintegrate due to his burning gaze.

Riki heaves out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Honestly, he has no clue how to help his friend out. He doesn’t know what you like, what you don’t like, whether you prefer grand, romantic gestures, or whether you want something nice and quiet instead. Of course, the one person who actually knows about your preferences is currently sitting in front of him—but he’s just as clueless as Riki is. Still, asking him is worth a shot.

“Okay,” he begins slowly. Jungwon immediately perks up, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Do you know what kind of romance she likes?”

Jungwon looks stumped, with wide eyes and a mouth comically open. If Riki wasn’t kind of irritated already, he would’ve laughed at him. “Uh—”

“Jungwon, right now I’m seriously questioning how on earth you managed to land the position of class president when you’re this dumb.” Riki takes a sip of his orange juice, chewing on the end of his straw.

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be Mister Romantic Guy, or whatever?”

Riki pauses. That’s true, he supposes. He is the school’s resident romance expert—a title he gained by predicting most of their classmates’ current significant others. It was all a complete fluke, of course. There’s no way Riki is actually some kind of professional at giving love advice, but he can definitely see where the nickname came from. (He isn’t about to tell anyone that the only experience he has in the love department comes from watching To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before at least ten times.)

But that doesn’t mean he can read minds—he still doesn’t know what exactly you have in mind when it comes to a promposal.

“Ask her first,” he decides. “Tell me what she likes and then I’ll get back to you.”

Then he pushes his chair back, places his empty orange juice carton on his lunch tray and picks it up before turning around and dumping it in the crate meant for soiled trays.

Riki’s got a lot on his hands, because Yang Jungwon is dense as hell and for all he knows, you might not be much better.

TWO 

Jungwon should not be taking this long to send you a measly text.

In his defence, he has no idea what he’s supposed to text you. Hey, Y/N, I was just wondering what kind of romance you like so that I can ask you out for prom in the most perfect way possible? That sounds dumb even in his head.

He groans, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly. Who knew asking someone out would take so much time and effort? He falls backwards onto his bed, his back hitting the mattress with a thump. Jungwon groans again, holding his phone in front of his face and squinting at the screen. His chat with you is open and the cursor in the empty text box blinks at him.

Oh, fuck it, he thinks. What’s the worst that could happen? You’re still friends; this is nothing more than a message he’s sending you. Besides, you and him have texted much weirder things to each other—like that time you sent him a picture of one of your favourite Thai BL actors posing shirtless and Jungwon replied by saying that he looked like he was about to sneeze. You didn’t talk to him for two weeks after that.

His fingers hover over the keyboard, and before he can overthink more than he already has, he types out a quick, casual message.

[Jungwon]: hey, do you have a sex?

Jungwon bites his lip, cheeks flushing red. Is he so nervous that he can’t even type out a simple three-letter abbreviation of a word correctly? He glares at his phone. Why are the letters x and c so close to each other? Someone should fix that. Thankfully, he hasn’t sent the message yet.

Jungwon shifts, trying to quickly delete the last letter and replace it with the right one. But with one sudden jerk, he drops his phone.

It falls straight onto his face, landing squarely on his nose. Jungwon curses under his breath, rubbing the stinging part and chucking his phone aside. A sudden ping from his phone makes him sit up straight immediately. Horror washes over him, along with an acute sense of mortification.

There’s no way he accidentally sent that message with the typo, right?

Wrong.

Gingerly, he picks up his phone.

[Y/N]: are u ok [Y/N]: do u have a fever or smtg

Jungwon’s cheeks heat up further. God, he’s so clumsy. You’re never going to let him live this down. He can picture you in his head, sitting on the swivel chair by your desk and actually laughing out loud at his typing mistake.

[Jungwon]: ?? unprovoked. all i did was make a typo.

[Y/N]: LMFAO. i want u 2 know that i have screenshotted this and it is now ready for me to use as blackmail material

He groans, running a hand through his hair. 

[Jungwon]: yeah yeah whatever [Jungwon]: are you free right now?

[Y/N]: sure. what’s up?

Jungwon takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly through his nose. How on earth is he supposed to ask you how you want to be asked out to prom? He needs to be sneaky about this—he can’t make it blatantly obvious that he would like you to be his prom date.

[Jungwon]: can i call you?

[Y/N]: yea ok

You pick up almost immediately after he presses the call button next to your contact name. 

“Hey.” Your voice sounds breathy on the phone, like you just jogged up your staircase before answering him. “So. What’s going on?”

“Do you want to watch Pride and Prejudice with me?” Jungwon asks as nonchalantly as he can. 

“Um. Sure, I guess. Why?”

“English Literature. We need to do that book report, remember? I want to write about Pride and Prejudice. I’m just too lazy to read the whole book, so, you know—might as well watch the movie instead.” It’s a big, fat lie—he’s already finished his book report—but Jungwon thinks it’s worth it.

“Cheater,” you say. “I wonder what Mr. Yoon will think, knowing the star of the grade is a sneaky little cheapskate.”

Jungwon rolls his eyes. “It’s not that deep. It’s just a book report.”

“Sure, sure. Is there any specific topic you want to write about?”

Fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt, he lies again. “Kind of. I want to write about romance—like, any classic novel which is based on romance.”

You hum. “That’s easy, then. Literally all classic novels are about romance. Except maybe Charles Dickens’ stuff.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon says, “which is why Pride and Prejudice is a really good choice. You can never go wrong with Jane Austen.”

“Yes, but won’t everyone think the same and go with Jane Austen too?” you say contemplatively. “You need something that would stand out.”

He sucks on a tooth, a triumphant grin forming on his lips. “Any ideas?”

“How about Little Women by Louisa May Alcott?” you suggest. “I know it’s not mainly about romance, but I think Jo and Laurie’s falling out and Amy and Laurie making up is really sweet. That bit mainly happens in Good Wives, but I think that’s just a technicality.” After a pause, you add, “I mean, not that bit about Jo and Laurie falling out; that sucks.”

Jungwon chuckles. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“I think it’s pretty cool that Laurie finally realises Amy’s the one for him, after all those years of her pining over him.”

Jungwon stills, thinking over your words. It almost feels as though you described his feelings towards you in one sentence. He’s liked you since middle school, and with high school almost coming to an end now that both of you are in your senior year, he figures it’s a pretty long time. 

“Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll do Little Women.”

“Okay.” Your voice is soft too.

THREE

“Quiet stuff,” Jungwon tells Riki decidedly, the next day. “She likes quiet, romantic gestures. Nothing big or fancy.”

“Wow,” Riki says, highlighting a word in his notebook with neon yellow. It hurts Jungwon’s eyes, but Riki claims it helps him remember. “How did you find out?”

“I just know.”

The other boy pauses for a moment, staring at Jungwon. Then he nods, seemingly impressed. “You sure seem to know a lot about Y/N.”

“She’s my best friend,” Jungwon says.

“Sure. Which is why you need my help to ask her out. Since, y’know, she’s your best friend and all.”

He rolls his eyes at Riki’s sarcasm, before leaning forward on his elbows. The library is pretty empty at this time, but Jungwon doesn’t want to break the silence by talking unnecessarily loudly. “So what should I do?”

His friend huffs and wrinkles his nose. “Flowers,” he says after a moment. 

“Really? Isn’t that… a bit cliché?”

“Like you would know, casanova,” Riki snorts. “Would you rather grab a bunch of bananas and write ‘I’m bananas for you, go to prom with me?’ on them with a Sharpie and give it to Y/N?”

Jungwon cringes. “Okay, okay. I get what you mean.” He sighs, staring down at the mahogany table and tracing stars on the worn-out wood. “But I want to be more original, you know what I mean? Flowers are nice but too overused.”

“Okay.” Riki taps his finger on the table. “I’m out of ideas. What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Jungwon begins slowly, attempting his best oh-thou-art-my-saviour expression and aiming it at Riki, “I was hoping you could distract her tomorrow, while you, me, Y/N, and Sunoo try to get the gymnasium ready for the decoration team. Just, sort of keep her occupied while I try to figure something out.”

Riki narrows his eyes. “Are you planning to seduce her while I’m talking to her? ‘Cause that’s a really shitty plan, even for you, Yang. And more importantly, what do I get in return?”

“No,” Jungwon hisses, cheeks burning. “I’m not going to seduce her, don’t be dumb. And I’ll give you free passes to the basketball regionals next month. I know you’ve been wanting to diss the opposing team ever since they beat you and our soccer team last year.”

“Fine. But I want two passes. Jake’s been really antsy about it, too.”

“Done.” Jungwon holds his hand out, and Riki shakes it with his. “Thank you, Riki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves him away, uncapping his obnoxiously bright yellow highlighter again. “Go get your girl.”

Jungwon smiles. He certainly plans to.

FOUR

There’s a God-awful stench in the gymnasium.

You, Jungwon, Riki, and another friend of yours, Kim Sunoo, stand at the entrance, bags hanging loosely off your shoulders and identical expressions of disgust on your faces.

The gymnasium is more or less a huge rectangle on the first floor of your school building. Rough wooden floors and cream-coloured cement walls make the place appear like the inside of a cardboard box. It isn’t used much—Coach Kim prefers to take P.E classes in the large turf outside. Only occasionally, for events such as prom or Graduation Day, the school administration decides to host its guests in the gym, which is why Jungwon needs to clear it out by next week.

“Okay, it smells like someone just farted,” you say. 

“Wasn’t me,” Jungwon comments off-handedly. He is the first one to brave the gymnasium, dropping his bag next to the door and striding inwards while bringing a hand up to pinch his nose.

“They say that the one who smelt it, dealt it,” Riki says, glancing suspiciously at you.

“They also say that the one who denied it, supplied it,” you retort. Riki’s suspicious gaze immediately averts to Jungwon, who’s busy peering into a box placed at a corner of the room.

Sunoo drops his bag on the floor and takes a cautious step inside. “I think I know where it’s coming from. Coach Kim sometimes leaves his used shirts in that box over there.” He points at the box Jungwon is occupied with. 

Jungwon picks up a dirty, orange gym shirt from inside the box, wrinkling his nose and holding it as far away from his body as his fully-stretched arms would allow. You place your bag next to his and walk to him. Behind you, Riki follows you.

“How long has that even been here?” Riki asks.

Sunoo shrugs, standing by the corner opposite Jungwon. He’s sticking so close to the wall, it looks as though someone applied permanent glue all over his back and pressed him against the cement surface. “Days, weeks, maybe even years. Who knows? No wonder no one uses the gym.”

You step closer to Jungwon, and immediately regret it. The stench wafts around you, making you clap your hand to your nose and mouth. “Gross. I’m not touching that.”

“Lucky for you, you’re not the one holding it.” Jungwon flashes a sour look at you, and you give him an apologetic smile. “Sunoo,” he calls out. “Can you take this to the incinerator? Riki, Y/N and I will get started on moving all the yoga mats.”

Sunoo whines, “Why me?” But he peels himself off the wall anyway and takes the shirt from Jungwon, tilting his head away from it.

“Thanks.” Jungwon smiles gratefully at him.

You look at all the yoga mats strewn around the wooden floor. Dust and old balls of hair stick to each one of the faded rubber mats. You place your hands on your waist; you have a lot of work cut out for you.

“Okay,” Jungwon says, “Let’s get started. Riki, you and Y/N start moving the mats to the corner. I’ll get the broom so we can clean things up a bit.”

You smile at him. Jungwon’s leadership skills are no joke—there’s a reason he was elected class president, after all. He has a way of getting things done without seeming bossy or rude. He values everyone’s opinion and doesn’t make anyone feel bad about themselves.  

He is kind, compassionate and caring, and makes people comfortable around him. Being his best friend for over ten years has only made you appreciate him more and more with each passing day. And eventually, that appreciation turned into a crush, which you’ve been harbouring for a long, long time. You only hope that someday, he sees you the way you see him. Just like how Laurie finally looked at Amy.

Jungwon slips away, heading downstairs to the janitor’s closet, just as Sunoo appears again, hands devoid of Coach Kim’s smelly shirt. You and Riki exchange smiles, and Sunoo joins you two, brushing his hands on his pants.

FIVE 

When Jungwon enters the gymnasium again, broom and dustpan in hand, the first thing he sees is you laughing at something Nishimura Riki said. 

He feels something flare up in his chest—a tiny prick of something sharp that makes him grip the broom tighter. This is stupid, he tells himself. You asked Riki to play wingman for you.

He sees Sunoo standing a bit away, hands on his hips and lips pursed as he observes the pile of mats the three of you had cleared. Jungwon walks over to him.

Sunoo brightens as soon as he sees him. “Hey, Jungwon. What do we do with these?”

“Uh, I think we can roll them up and take them to the storage room sometime later. Right now—” he hefts the broom and the dustpan— “we need to clean this whole place up.”

“Got it.” Sunoo nods. “Hey, why don’t Riki and I take the mats down while you and Y/N clean up? Things will get done faster that way.”

“Sure. I’ll call Riki over and tell him.” Jungwon smiles gratefully at his friend, before walking over to you and Riki. 

You grin at him as soon as you see him approaching, and Jungwon’s heart lifts like a hot-air balloon. “Hello, Yang,” you greet him. “Finally back with the broom, I see.”

“Very funny,” he deadpans, letting the broom drop down on the floor by his feet. He jerks his thumb backwards. “Riki, Sunoo needs your help.”

Riki mock-salutes, flashing you a smile before heading over to Sunoo. You pick up the broom. “I take it I need to help you clean, right?”

Jungwon nods. “Do you want the broom or the dustpan?”

“I’ll start off with the broom,” you offer. “We can take turns.” You move to a corner of the gym, wasting no time in sweeping the place to the best of your abilities. 

Jungwon folds his arms and waits for you to collect a sizable amount of dust before leaning down and holding the dustpan for you to sweep everything in. It’s only then that he notices the tight grip you have on the handle, and the slight hunch of your shoulders. He frowns worriedly.

“Y/N?” he says. “Is everything okay?”

You glance at him with mild surprise, moving over to another area and starting to sweep. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t everything be fine?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Other than the fact that you look like you’re about to break the broom with nothing but brute force?”

You purse your lips and straighten up, loosening your hold on the broom’s handle. Jungwon offers a hand, ready to take the broom from you and give you a break. 

When you make no move to hand it to him, his eyes crease with concern. “Hey, seriously—what’s wrong?”

You hesitate before admitting, “I think Riki is going to ask me out to prom.”

A sudden chill washes over Jungwon, and he can feel it deep inside his chest. He stills, blood pounding in his ears and his heart racing like he just took part in a track and field race. 

“What—” he swallows— “what makes you think that?”

“It’s just—I’m probably overthinking it, I don’t know—but he seemed really into me, you know?” Your gaze drops to your shoes. “He was coming onto me pretty strong when you left. He used, like, three pickup lines on me, I think. They were all really bad, too.”

That little piece of shit, Jungwon curses in his head. He should’ve known better than to trust that sly little imbecile to butter you up for his promposal. 

(Admittedly, Jungwon still doesn’t have a concrete plan, but he was thinking of taking you to your favourite ice cream parlour after school and popping the question over a shared chocolate chip sundae—assuming he worked up enough nerve by then, that is.)

Instead, he says, “W-wow. I can’t believe it.” Can’t believe he’s hitting on you when he knows I have a crush on you, he wants to add.

You chuckle nervously, pushing a flyaway strand of hair away from your eyes. “Me neither, honestly. I feel bad now, because I have to turn him down.”

“Why’s that?” he asks, pushing down the jealousy that threatens to creep into his throat.

“There’s someone else I would like to go to prom with, if I had the chance,” you explain shyly.

“Oh,” is all Jungwon can say. A million thoughts start whirring inside his head. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if someone—the person you wanted to go with—asked you first and you said yes? What if—

Riki and Sunoo saunter back in, having hauled all the yoga mats to the storage room. Jungwon narrows his eyes.

“Give me a sec,” he tells you.

SIX 

It wasn’t that hard to corner Nishimura Riki after all. All Jungwon had to do was ask Sunoo and you to check if there were any spare buckets and mops in the janitor’s closet and if there were, to fill the buckets up with water so you could mop the place.

Once you and the other boy exit, Jungwon advances on his friend menacingly. Riki—clearly noticing the sudden tension in the air—gulps and takes a step back.

“Hey, what’s with that face?” Riki tries to mask his sudden fear with light-heartedness. “I spoke to Y/N while you were getting the broom. She totally thinks you’re going to ask her out, by the way; you should thank me.”

Truthfully, he has no clue what he’s done wrong. But the best solution to everything is to play dumb, so that’s exactly what he does.

“Oh, really?” Jungwon’s face is eerily calm. “You’ve got her convinced, I’d say.”

“Y-yeah, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t put it that way, but—”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he interrupts. 

Riki takes another step back, raising his palms placatingly. He opens his mouth, but upon seeing the way Jungwon’s eyes flash, no words come out.

“You’ve got her convinced that you’re going to ask her out to prom instead of me, idiot!”

The words tumble out of Jungwon’s mouth, heavy and scalding. He’s pissed off—rightfully so, seeing as the self-proclaimed “love expert” knows jack-shit about romance. Riki could give the trolls from Frozen a run for their money.

For once, Nishimura Riki is speechless. He closes his mouth, and then opens it, but closes it again. Jungwon gives up the tough boy act, letting his shoulders slump down and his head hang.

“For once,” he mumbles, “I thought shit would go the right way for me and Y/N. The way I’ve always wanted it to, at least.”

A twinge of guilt makes the other boy’s eyes widen with sympathy. Riki messed up—big-time—and now there’s no choice but for him to fix it. 

“You can tell Y/N I have no intention of going to prom with her,” he says. “I already have a date.”

Jungwon’s head shoots up. “You do?! You never told me.”

“That’s because I asked him five minutes ago.”

“That’s awesome, Riki.” Jungwon gives him a genuine smile, though his eyes betray his disappointment. “I’m really happy for you, you deserve—wait, him?”

“Yeah. I asked Sunoo if he wanted to go with me as friends. Neither of us could find a date, so we just decided to go together. The other option was going with my mom.”

“Oh. Good for you, then.”

“Maybe, but right now, we’re talking about you and your love life—”

“Which you screwed up for me.”

“—which is currently a wreck,” the boy finishes, disregarding Jungwon’s interruption. “Leave it up to me, Jungwon. I’ll fix this.”

Jungwon raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“No,” he admits, “but I swear I will fix this. I’m sorry I screwed up.”

The other boy pauses and considers, carefully observing Riki. Finally, he nods. “Fine, I believe you. Besides, if you screw up again, I’ll just revoke your basketball tickets.”

Riki blanches, and Jungwon lets his lips curl up with the taste of sweet, sweet victory.

SEVEN 

Riki shepherds you and Jungwon into an empty classroom, opening the door for you and shoving Jungwon in when he looked quizzically at the boy. Calm down, he mouths. It does absolutely nothing to calm Jungwon down; his eyes widen comically.

“Okay, impromptu meeting.” Riki claps his hands, a slow, sly grin spreading on his lips. You open your mouth to say something, but Riki doesn’t let you speak. “And by that, I mean you two are going to talk.”

Jungwon starts, “This is how you plan to fix—”

Riki slams the door shut, twisting the doorknob from outside. You hear a click. Jungwon looks at you, huffing out a breath exasperatedly. You tilt your head, extremely confused. “Why did he lock us in?”

“Beats me.” But he sounds resigned, as though he already knows what’s going to happen. It does nothing to ease your bewilderment.

“Okay, listen up!” Riki calls from outside. “I don’t have much time because I need to get all of this out before Sunoo comes back from the restroom. Y/N, I’m sorry I had to lock you up, but Jungwon’s a real airhead, so I’m doing his job for him.”

(Jungwon rolls his eyes at that, but for some reason, doesn’t meet your eyes. You lean back on a desk, crossing your arms and trying to figure out what, exactly, Nishimura Riki is playing at.)

Riki continues, “Yes, people consider me the all-knowing expert on love, but the truth is, every single couple I predicted was just a wild guess—it helped my reputation if they got together, but there was no science or anything behind it.”

(You nod. It’s such an obvious fact that you’re surprised no one’s ever noticed it before. Jungwon shrinks into himself, head down and arms wrapped around himself. You wonder what he’s thinking.)

“But if there’s one couple that I am sure about—” He pauses. “Let’s just say they’re meant to be, and everyone knows it. And… I would be a real fucking idiot if I didn’t try my best with them.”

(You feel your heart burst into a million golden pieces, in a way that fills you with joy and hope and nervousness all at once. You stare, dumbfounded, at your best friend, willing your heart to piece itself back together. It doesn’t work; you’re not sure you want it to. Jungwon slowly glances up, but just as quickly, he moves his gaze down again.)

“Y/N, Jungwon really likes you. He’s liked you for a long, long time. He wants to go to prom with you.”

(If happiness could be personified, you would be its personification.)

You hear the shuffling of footsteps and deduce that Riki has left—presumably to give you two some privacy. And for you and Jungwon to talk, because you still need to clear the air between you both. (You also want to hear him say he likes you; a bit self-indulgent, you suppose, but people have dreams.)

“Is it true?” you ask, trying your best to appear nonchalant, as though you haven’t just found out the love of your fucking life likes you back.

Jungwon still doesn’t meet your gaze. “Yeah,” he mumbles, so softly, you need to strain your ears to hear him over the deafening silence.

Boldly, you take a step towards him. And another, and one more, until your knees bump against his. 

“Yang Jungwon,” you say—and your closeness forces him to look at you— “you are an absolute idiot.”

He swallows. “I know. Look, I’m sorry, okay? You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to reciprocate my feelings or anything. I’m fine with being just friends, because I would rather be something for you than nothing at all, and—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his.

When you pull away—just a peck would suffice, you think—his eyes are wide. “Oh, my God,” he squeaks, “you just kissed me.”

You giggle, endeared by his sudden shyness. “It appears so.”

He pulls you close, fingers encircling your wrist and his other hand resting on your waist. “Can I do it again?”

“Later,” you promise. “Right now… we need to talk.”

Jungwon nods. “Well, what’s there to say? I’ve liked you since middle school.”

“I’ve liked you since the eighth grade,” you confess. “It was so painful, thinking you didn’t like me back. You are the one I want to go to prom with, by the way. And my favourite book is Little Women because I could relate to Amy so much.” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “I felt like I was her, waiting for Laurie to look at her the way he looked at Jo.”

He sucks in a breath. “Maybe if you’d opened your eyes a little wider, you would know that I’ve been looking at you that way all along.”

You smile, letting his words seep into your heart and engrave themselves into your soul. He smiles back, squeezing your hand.

“We should probably thank Riki afterwards,” you say. “I bet he’s really happy that one of his couples didn’t turn out to be a fluke.”

“Later,” Jungwon says, echoing your words. His eyes flicker to your lips and back. “I just really wanna kiss you right now.”

“So,” you challenge him, “do it.”

Jungwon leans forward and captures your lips with his, his mouth moving gently against yours. You bring your hands up and place them around his neck, carding your fingers through the hair against the nape of his neck. Time seems to still, and you and Jungwon appear to move in slow-motion.

When he pulls away, he knocks his forehead against yours, smiling widely. “Go to prom with me?”

Your answer is on the tip of your tongue. “Of course.”

Jungwon’s heart swells, and he swoops in and kisses you again. Riki may be right; he may be an airhead when it comes to romance sometimes, but right now, Jungwon feels like he’s on top of the world. 

LEE HEESEUNG FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted

since my fic recs are super popular on my nct blog, I decided to start on this blog! fics with less words and less plot/more smut are near the bottom of the list.

i don't want to be your roommate, i want to kiss your neck [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

let's collab [ camboy!heeseung x camgirl!reader] s

lee heeseung - the brother's best friend trope, part two [ brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

only if you say yes [ enemies to fwb au ] s,f,a

traces of you. [ loser!heeseung x tutor!reader ] s,f,a

cherry [ pervert!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f,a

you plus me [ ex-friend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

tides of regret [ ex bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a

coffee & cream [ virgin!heeseung x virgin fem!reader ] s,f,a

falling alone [ lieutenant!heeseung x therapist housewife!reader, strained marriage au ] s,f,a

player rank: platinum [ simp gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, sister's bf au ] s,a

only if you say yes (please say yes) [ enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a

two's a company [ incompatible friend!heeseung x fem!reader, forced proximity au] s

i offer you my everything [ basketball captain!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f

m.o.r.e. - my only ruined escape [husband's!friend x fem!reader, toxic marriage au ] s,f,a

not if it's you, part two [ nerd!heeseung x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s,f,a

racing, beating [ illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader, arranged marriaged au ] s

one hundred and one [ little brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,a

how to get back at your ex [ ex!heeseung x fem!reader, coworkers au ] s,f,a

what you need [ boyfriend's friend!heeseung x fem!reader, roommates au ] s,a

you make me [ stranger!heeseung x insomniac!reader ] suggestive

wrong doings [ stepdad!heeseung x stepdaughter!reader ] s,a

cross the line [ childhood best friends to lovers ] s,f

prince charming's mismatch [ prince!heeseung x princess!reader ] suggestive

pool party [ brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader, pool party au ] s,f,a

saint matthew's academy [toxic rich!heeseung x innocent!reader, private school au ] s,f,a

playground crush [ neighbor!heeseung x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s

as long as you'll let me [ virgin!heeseung x badgirl!reader ] s

i hate you [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f

the space between [ rich basketball player!reader x flowershop owner!reader ] s,f,a

give it time [ inexperienced!heeseung x jake's sister!reader ] s

conflict of interest [ pool cleaner!heeseung x rich fem!reader ] s

heavenly [ established relationship, stuck inside due to storm au ] s

“just sit on my lap, it’ll be fine” [ gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, no nut november au ] s

two moons [ plug!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

want [ boyfriend!heeseung x fem!reader, first time au ] s

tethered [ emo!heeseung x fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers au ] s,a

mine or yours? [ stepbrother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

helping hand [ bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

let me show you [ experienced friend!heeseung x inexperienced fem!reader ] s,f

the girl from the bar [ bartender!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f

easy access [ ex!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,a

a sucker for the taste [ experienced husband!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f

apple cider [ roommate!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

something new [ established relationship au ] s

taste [ munch!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

90 days of pleasure [ enemies to lovers ] s,f,a

teddy bear pajamas [ heeseung x jay's sister!reader ] s

surprise [ established relationship au ] s

plushies and headsets [ bestfriend!heeseung x petite!reader ] s

addicted [roommate!heeseung x tutor!reader ] s

wet [ water gun fight au ] s

road trip [ friend!heeseung x fem!reader, smut in car w friends ] s

diet pepsi [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s

the love game [ gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, established relationship ] s,f

wet dreams [ roommate!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

attention [ gamer boyfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

tasty [ bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s

breaking free [ stoner!heeseung x fem!reader ] suggestive,f,a

forced roommates or forced to be lovers? [ popular pervy!gamer heeseung x popular cheerleader!reader ] s,f

homecoming [ idol!heeseung x fem!reader, established relationship ] s

love story? | hyung line.

synopsis: enhypen’s hyung line as different types of romance tropes! pairing: hyung line x gn!reader (separate) genre/warnings: (heeseung: heeseung being annoying, a bit of sunghoon slander) / (jay: he threatens to give away his cooking to jake n heeseung, premature wrinkling) / (jake: ruined picnics, jake being too cute to handle) / (sunghoon: mentions of blood + bruises, cursing, sunghoon + you being two little silly geese) word count: 2.7k (hoon’s is so long i got carried away LMAO) a/n: first post yay !!! hope everyone enjoys <3 (ps. i am a firm believer in jongseong’s love language being acts of service !! come discuss enha love languages w me ;))) )

lee heeseung ⁂ academic rivals to lovers

lee heeseung is infuriating. the slight upturn of his lips into that smirk you always see before he inevitably corrects you, the mischievous glint in his eyes as he twirls his pencil with the tips of his fingers, the subtle twitch of his nose after you brush him off that tells you he’ll be back to bother you later. all of it makes your blood boil, but today has proven one, equally frustrating thing: even if the gods do exist, they don’t seem to care about you.

Seguir leyendo

[10:46pm] jay x afab reader

"stop fucking bending over, the whole party can see your panties," jay spat, pressing himself up behind you to protect your modesty.

you rolled your eyes at his protective tone, he had always been like this growing up. you were jake's sister, only a few months younger than jay himself. you'd spent all these years together, but only recently had you noticed just how protective over you he was.

tonight was no exception. jake had thrown a party since your parents were away, and of course jay was there. you'd dressed up pretty, albeit your skirt was uncomfortably short but you were not about to go and pick out a whole new outfit so you just went along with it, tugging the material down over your ass hoping no one would notice.

but they did, and jay noticed them noticing you.

"get off me," you whined, shaking him away as you stood up straight, a can of beer in your hand from the cooler you were digging in. "stop acting like you own me, jay."

"i'm not, but someone has to stop your from acting like a whore all night," his mouth pressed into a sharp frown whilst he stared you down. you stood in front of him, feeling small under his gaze.

"a whore yeah? I'll show you a fucking whor-"

jay cut you off, pressing a palm over your mouth to stop you running on. you protested against his hand but he stayed put until you stopped, rolling his eyes a little. after a minute or two he pulled away, wiping his hand on his jeans.

"are you done now?" he asked, one eyebrow raised at you. you huffed out in annoyance but nodded nevertheless.

jay smiled slightly, glancing around the crowded living room quickly before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. you barely had time to process it before you were tugging him forward and kissing him back with fever.

he groaned into the kiss, leaning into you and pressing you against the wall behind where you were stood. his hips pinned against yours, causing a gasp to leave your lips for long enough that jay could slip his tongue into your mouth.

you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this before, imagining how jay would taste when you were along at night. not only had he grown more protective over the years, he'd also grown more attractive, and you could now fully see the man he'd grown up to be.

"y/n," he breathed as he pulled back, "we can't do this."

it was your turn to roll your eyes now, holding his jacket tight as you kept his body flush against yours before rolling your hips up gently. jay crumbled, letting his body go pliant against your touch. you could feel how hard he was through his jeans, maybe that skirt was a good idea.

"why not jay," you said quietly, pressing a soft kiss on to his neck, moving down to his collarbones. "what's stopping us?"

"your brother-" he whined when you bit down gently, soothing the spot with your tongue. jay pulled his head up a bit to look at you, glancing down at your glossy and red lips.

he dipped his own head down to your neck, returning the favour by pressing a few open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there. you begged him to just bite down, leave a mark, but you knew he wouldn't.

"jake doesn't have to know," you whispered into his ear. "it's our little secret, yeah?"

fuck it, jay was a weak man when it came to you. he tugged you up the stairs to your room, praying on his life that jake would never find out.