ariieesworld

Beneath the pixelated photos lay thousands of comments, a relentless waterfall of opinions from people who didn't know her name but felt entirely qualified to judge her right to exist.

“What is he even doing with her?”

“She needs to leave him alone so he can focus on the comeback.”

“Just another attention seeker trying to ride his coat-tails. She’s completely ruining Yeonjun.”

A heavy, familiar ache settled deep in her chest. Y/n wasn't a celebrity. She didn't have a stylized wardrobe, a dedicated public relations team, or a thick skin built from years of harsh public scrutiny. She was just an ordinary person who happened to love Choi Yeonjun—the guy who stole her fries when they ate out, complained loudly about being cold just to steal her warmth, and laughed until he couldn't breathe in the quiet spaces of her living room. But to the world, she was a glaring flaw in his perfect, polished equation.

Every notification that lit up her screen felt like a tiny, digital blow. Her finger hovered over the screen, tempted to close the app, yet she kept scrolling, drawn into the masochistic loop of reading what strangers thought of her ordinary life.

The sudden, familiar sound of the front door passcode clicking open startled her. Y/n quickly locked her phone, dropping it onto the mattress as if it had burned her, but she wasn't fast enough to wipe the lingering tension from her shoulders or the raw vulnerability from her face.

Yeonjun walked into the apartment, looking utterly deflated from a grueling twelve-hour dance practice. His hair was a messy, damp tangle buried beneath a black beanie, and his oversized hoodie swallowed his broad frame. His eyes were heavy with fatigue, the dark circles beneath them a testament to the brutal schedule he kept. Yet, the exact moment his gaze found her sitting on the bed, the tired lines etched into his face noticeably softened.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice a low, raspy rumble as he kicked off his sneakers at the entryway. He didn't even bother to drop his gym bag on the floor properly before walking straight over to the bed. He slumped down beside her, immediately burying his face into the crook of her neck, letting his heavy weight lean completely into her. He smelled like the cold winter air outside, stale sweat, and fabric softener. "I missed you so much today."

"Missed you too," she whispered. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, but her voice was tighter, more constrained than she intended it to be.

Yeonjun pulled back almost instantly, his sharp, perceptive eyes scanning her face in the dim light. He looked down at the locked phone resting on the blanket beside her thigh, then back up to meet her eyes. He knew that look. He had seen it on his members, on his friends, and now, most painfully, on her. The immediate flash of guilt that flared in his eyes cut straight through his own physical exhaustion.

"Let's go eat something," Y/n said quickly, trying to shift the focus away from her face. "You must be starving. I made dinner... I erm.. tried your mother's recipe."

The clink of ceramic and the steady rush of warm water filled the small kitchen a little later. Dinner itself had been a remarkably quiet affair—far quieter than their usual chaotic meals. Yeonjun had eaten everything she put in front of him, but his eyes never really left her. There was no easy banter tonight, no shared laughs over stupid internet memes or gossip from the studio. There was just the heavy, rhythmic hum of the refrigerator filling the space between them.

Now, they stood side-by-side at the sink. Yeonjun leaned back against the counter with a dry dish towel slung over his shoulder, waiting to receive the clean items, while Y/n stared blankly into the soapy water. Her hands were submerged, her fingers blindly scrubbing the exact same spot on a ceramic bowl she had already cleaned twice.

"Hey," Yeonjun said softly. He reached past her wet sleeve and gently turned off the running faucet. The sudden silence in the kitchen was incredibly loud. "You're gonna wash the glaze right off that thing if you keep going."

Y/n blinked rapidly, coming out of her trance abruptly, and forced a quick, practiced smile that completely failed to reach her eyes. "Oh. Sorry about that. Just spaced out for a second." She quickly handed him the dripping bowl and reached into the water for a mug, deliberately avoiding his piercing gaze.

Yeonjun didn't take the bowl to dry it. Instead, he set it firmly down on the counter behind him and caught her right wrist, gently but unyieldingly tugging her hand completely out of the dishwater.

"You've been spacing out since the second I walked through the front door," he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, the word rushing out of her mouth a little too fast to be believable. She kept her eyes glued to the white bubbles clinging to her fingers. "Just had a really long, exhausting day at work. I'm just tired, Yeonjun. Seriously, that's all it is."

It was a safe lie. A normal, mundane lie. The exact kind of excuse an ordinary person could use to get through a rough evening. But Yeonjun knew Y/n too well. He knew the precise difference between her being physically tired and her being mentally checked out, retreating into her own head to protect herself. He looked closely at her face, noting the slight, rigid tension in her jaw and the way she deliberately refused to look across the kitchen toward the dining table, where her phone lay face down.

The paparazzi photos from their weekend walk had leaked across every major social media platform that morning. He had seen the headlines during his lunch break. He knew what the internet looked like right now. And he knew she had seen it, too.

"A long day at work," he repeated softly, his voice dropping an octave. He didn't let go of her wrist. Instead, he reached over, grabbed a clean, dry towel, and slowly began to wipe the remaining soap and water from her hands. His movements were incredibly deliberate, calm, and tender, as if he were handling something fragile. "So it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your phone has been lighting up every two minutes? Or that you haven't looked me dead in the eye once tonight?"

Y/n swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat, her carefully constructed defensive wall instantly springing a massive leak. She tried to subtly pull her hand back from his grip, but his fingers remained firm, yet entirely gentle around her skin.

"I just... I really don't want to talk about it tonight," she whispered, her voice cracking just enough at the end to completely betray her emotional state. "You're already exhausted from practice. You have a massive comeback next month. You don't need to come home to this apartment and deal with me being... insecure and dramatic."

"Deal with you?"

Yeonjun took a deliberate step closer, completely closing the small physical gap between them until her back was pressed slightly against the edge of the kitchen counter. He reached up with his free hand, his long, warm fingers gently catching her chin, tilting her head up and forcing her to finally look directly into his eyes. His gaze wasn't tired or unfocused anymore; it was intensely locked onto hers, completely stripped of the charismatic, untouchable idol persona he wore like armor on stage.

"Don't ever say that," he murmured, his thumb brushing softly against her cheekbone. "Don't lie to me just to protect me from things that are happening strictly because of my life, because of my career choice. If you're hurting, I need you to tell me."

Y/n looked down, unable to hold the sheer intensity of his stare, and a single, heavy tear finally slipped past her lashes, trailing down her cheek.

"It’s just a lot, Yeonjun," she admitted, her voice barely audible over the hum of the fridge. "Seeing thousands of people pick apart everything about me—how I look, what I wear, how I walk. Hearing them call me names, calling me a massive mistake for your career... I don't know how to handle that kind of criticism. I don't have a shield for this."

Yeonjun didn't say a word at first. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn't heavy anymore; it was full of a quiet, protective understanding. Slowly, he leaned his head down, resting his forehead gently against hers, closing his eyes as if simply soaking in her physical presence to center himself.

"They don't know a single thing about us," he whispered into the fraction of space left between them, his warm breath fanning across her face. "They see a grainy, stolen photo from a distance and think they understand my entire life. They don't see you holding me together when I'm so stressed. They don't know the only person who makes me actually look forward to leaving the studio and coming home."

He slid his long arms completely around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He buried his face deep into the crook of her neck, holding her tight enough to ground her, tight enough to let her feel the steady, rapid beat of his heart against her ribs.

"Let them talk," he muttered fiercely against her skin, his grip tightening just a fraction more. "They don't get a say in our relationship. They don't get a seat at our table. If they want to waste their time and energy being angry because I found someone who genuinely makes me happy, then let them waste it. Just promise me you won't let them make you feel like you don't belong here. Because you do. You belong with me, just as I belong with you."

Y/n let out a long, shaky breath, her hands finally moving up to tightly grip the thick fabric of his oversized hoodie. There still may be people outside their bubble sharing unsolicited criticism, but in the quiet, soapy warmth of the apartment, his weight against her was the only thing that felt real.

➛ After years of being buddies, Park Sunghoon can’t seem to see you as anything more than one of his bros despite you being his girlfriend.

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You had never expected Sunghoon of all people to get jealous of his best friend flirting with you, granted he was the one always picking fights with you, simply basking in the attention you provided him with, albeit it was negative. Which is why you were speechless, currently trapped in the warmth of his dorm room, between the door and the heat of his body with your heart beating out of your chest. 

“Speechless now?” Sunghoon murmured, his big hand cupping your cheek with a gentle caress which felt rather heavy with possessiveness of some sort, “where’s that sharp tongue you usually have for me, hm? Your clever retorts.”

He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, tilting his head, gaze dropping to your lips which you’d bitten, as if he wished to do the exact same to you, a shiver ran down your spine at the absurdity of the situation, face heating up under his stare, his touch.

“Jake called you beautiful, didn’t he?” He scoffed, and you opened your mouth to retort, but he continued, “that’s such a small, empty word. He doesn’t know how your eyes light up when you win an argument against me, or the way you look right now—completely undone, because I’m finally saying what I’ve been thinking for months.”

His thumb traced the line of your lower lip, tugging it gently to release it from your teeth. The air in the room was thick, charged with a tension that was beneath every hateful comment and glare you’d exchanged since freshman year. 

“You’re saying anything at this point,” you mumbled, but that didn’t stop him.

“You’re not just beautiful” he whispered, voice dropping an octave, “you’re captivating. I’ve spent every lecture, every friend hangout, every miserable party just trying to get you to look at me, and then i see you smiling at Jake instead? Letting him tell you all the things I should have said before?” He let out a frustrated breath, leaning in until his forehead rested against yours. 

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the sound of your synced, shallow breaths. Sunghoon’s hand shifted from your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair and tangling at the root to pull your head back just an inch—enough to expose the pulse jumping in your throat.

“You think I’m just saying anything?” He murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck in open mouthed kisses, “I’m saying the things that have been keeping me awake for months, Y/N. Every time we argued in class, I was just trying to find an excuse to keep your eyes on me.”

“You have a strange way of showing it,” you managed to whisper, though the words felt breathless, “constant bickering isn’t exactly—this.”

“It was the only way I knew you’d give me all of your attention,” he admitted, his voice a low vibration against your skin. His other hand dropped from your waist, his palm sliding over the curve of your thigh, pulling the fabric of your skirt up just enough to let his cool fingers meet your warm skin, squeezing your inner thighs. You gasped, your hands flying up to rest against his chest, feeling the frantic thrum of his heart beneath his dress shirt.

“Sunghoon—”

“Shh,” he hushed, his touch becoming a slow, deliberate caress that climbed higher, “you’re so reactive for me. Jake’s compliments didn’t make you flush like this, did they? They didn’t make your heart race this fast.”

He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours as he looked deeply into your eyes, his gaze dark and clouded with a hunger he was no longer trying to hide.

“I want to hear you say it,” he prompted, his fingers tracing small, agonizing circles against the soft skin of your inner thigh, “tell me you don’t want him. Tell me you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have.”

You swallowed hard, the sheer possessiveness in his tone overriding any lingering desire to fight him, “I haven’t been able to think about anything else since we got in here,” you confessed, your voice trembling.

A slow, triumphant smirk spread across his face—the first genuine smile you’d seen from him all year, and it was devastatingly handsome.

“Good girl,” he praised, the words hitting you like a physical weight. He leaned down, finally closing the distance to press a firm, lingering kiss just below your ear, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you admit that. How much I’ve wanted to have you pressed against this door, completely focused on me.”

He cupped your cunt through the fabric, giving it gentle squeezes as you start breathing faster, moans leaving your lips, which is enough to drive Sunghoon insane beyond words. 

“You’re so fucking pretty when you’re like this,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with a sudden heat, “all flustered and needy for me. Let’s see just how much more of this you can take before you’re begging me to stop talking and finally kiss you.”

Sunghoon’s fingers pressed harder against your soaked panties, rubbing slow circles over your clit until your hips bucked involuntarily. You whimpered, your body arching toward his touch, desperate for more friction. He chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck as he nipped at your earlobe.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot on your skin, “you’re already dripping for me. Such a good girl, getting so wet just from my hand.”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and yanked them down your thighs, exposing your slick folds to the cool air. You gasped, but before you could say anything, Sunghoon dropped to his knees between your legs, his strong hands gripping your thighs to spread them wide. His eyes locked onto your pussy, dark and hungry, like he was starving for a taste as he licked his lips, fangs peeking out.

“Fuck, look at this pretty little cunt,” he groaned, leaning in close enough that you felt the warmth of his breath teasing your sensitive skin, “all swollen and ready for my mouth. I’m gonna eat you out until you’re shaking, sweetheart. You deserve to feel this good.”

Without another word, he dove in, his tongue flattening against your entrance and licking a long, slow stripe up to your clit. You cried out, your hands flying to his hair, tugging at the soft strands as pleasure shot through you. Sunghoon groaned against your pussy, the vibration making your toes curl. He sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it with expert precision, while one hand slid up to push two fingers inside you.

“Oh god, Sunghoon,” you moaned, your head falling back as he pumped his fingers in and out, curling them to hit that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

He pulled back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with your arousal, “yeah, say my name like that. You’re so tight around my fingers, baby, taking them so well. I love how you taste—sweet and perfect, just for me.” His praise washed over you like liquid heat, making your walls clench harder around him.

Sunghoon dove back in, lapping at your folds hungrily, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit while his fingers thrust deeper, faster, groaning right there. He added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, and you felt the coil in your belly tightening, building toward release. Your breaths came in ragged pants, moans spilling freely as he devoured you, his free hand kneading the soft flesh of your thigh.

“Come on, gorgeous,” he urged between licks, his voice muffled but commanding, “let go for me. I want to feel you cum on my tongue, you’re doing so fucking good—my perfect girl.”

The words pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you, your pussy pulsing around his fingers as waves of ecstasy ripped a scream from your throat. Sunghoon didn’t stop, riding out your climax with his mouth, sucking and licking until you were trembling, oversensitive and breathless.

Finally, he pulled away, standing up with a smug grin, his chin shiny with your juices. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes never leaving yours, “see? Told you I’d make you feel amazing, but we’re not done yet. I need to be inside you now.”

You nodded weakly, still catching your breath, as he quickly shed his clothes. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already leaking pre-cum. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head against your slick entrance, teasing you until you whined.

“Please, Sunghoon,” you begged, your hands reaching for his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling you into a kiss, making you taste yourself on him with a moan, pressing against you harder, his bangs brushing your forehead as he tilted his face, swiping his tongue on your bottom lip, making you open up. He snapped his hip forward, making you feel his hardness. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised, voice rough with desire, “so eager for my cock. 

You’re gonna feel every inch of me, baby, and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.” With that, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt inside your soaked pussy.

You gasped at the stretch, the fullness of him overwhelming in the best way. Sunghoon groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he bottomed out slowly, making sure you don’t get hurt in the process, “fuck, you’re so tight—gripping me like you never want me to leave. Such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Fuck—you’ve been so jealous, Hoonie,” you gasped.

“You have no idea,” he confessed easily, “say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you nodded, feeling his hand teasing your tits.

He started moving, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace that had your breasts bouncing with each thrust. His hands pinned your hips down, controlling every movement, while his mouth found yours in a messy, heated kiss. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, and it only made you clench around him tighter.

“Yes, just like that,” he panted against your lips, his hips snapping forward relentlessly, “milk my fucking cock, baby. You’re so warm inside, taking me so deep. I could fuck you forever—my beautiful, needy girl.”

The praise spurred you on, your nails digging into his back as you met his thrusts, the room filling with the wet sounds of skin slapping skin and your shared moans. Sunghoon’s hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles, pushing you toward another high.

“Cum for me again,” he demanded, his voice a low rumble, “I want to feel you squeeze me while I fill you up. You’re mine, all mine—doing so well for me.”

His words, combined with the relentless pounding of his cock and the pressure on your clit, sent you spiraling. Your second orgasm hit harder than the first, your walls fluttering around him as you cried out his name. Sunghoon followed seconds later, thrusting deep one last time and spilling hot cum inside you, his body shuddering with release.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting, his forehead pressed to yours. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “absolutely perfect.”