kitty

PARK JONGSEONG

calm and collected are two adjectives that can define jay the best, a total gentleman— a perfect choice to play your fake boyfriend, the best fake plus one for your uncle's wedding. but tonight, at the party, you see his mask slip. it’s subtle at first—the way his eyes harden when he spots you talking to some random guy by the drinks table, swiftly turning his head away. he doesn't think much of it until the guy leans in closer, saying something that makes you laugh.

that’s when jay moves. he’s at your side in an instant, so swift you down even realise his imposing presence as he slides an arm around your shoulders. “hey,” he says, his voice light but his grip firm. “who’s your new friend?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanour. “oh, uh—a family friend,” you answer, a tight lipped smile, but jay’s gaze doesn’t leave the guy’s face.

“right.” his smile is strained, more of a baring of teeth than an expression of friendliness. the guy glances between you and jay, looking a bit uncomfortable before mumbling an excuse and walking away.

as soon as he’s gone, jay pulls you closer, his hand slipping down to your waist, fingers digging in ever so slightly, your back hitting his chest. “next time,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath travelling softly down to your neck, “just tell him you have a boyfriend—me.” his voice is low and intense, vibrating through you.

your heart skips a beat. “jay, it’s not—”

“real? yeah, i know,” he cuts you off, turning you to face him. his dark eyes bore into yours, darting across your face real quick, resring on your lips. “but i don’t care. i don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you,” he leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours, “even if this is just pretend… you’re mine.”

SIM JAEYUN

the party is loud, laughter and music filling the air as you stand awkwardly by the punch table, watching jake from a distance. he’s talking to someone, a girl with long hair and a smile that lights up her face. his ex. you bite your lips, feeling a dull ache in your chest. it's silly—you’re not even really dating, but seeing him so at ease with her, leaning in to listen, his familiar grin in place, makes your heart clench, makes you feel it was you making his heart flutter instead.

they look like a perfect couple. a real couple, with real feelings for each other.

you turn away, trying to shake off the pang of insecurity by getting out of this place. but before you can slip out of sight, a familiar voice stops you.

“hey, what’s with the long face?”

you glance up, startled to find jake standing right in front of you, concern etched in his features. “n-nothing,” you mumble, forcing a smile. “just —felt out of place, i guess.”

jake’s gaze softens as if he can see right through your flimsy excuse. he steps closer, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a worry line that you hadn’t realised had formed. he leans in ever so close, “is it because of her?” he asks softly, nodding back toward his ex. when you don’t respond, he leans in, his eyes locking with yours. “you know she’s just the past, right?”

“but you looked so happy, jake! and we're not even—” “i’m only yours, you hear me?” he whispers fiercely, his fingers tightening around your waist, pulling you into him. “fake or not, you’re the one i want to be with.” his voice is low, almost pleading. “i’m not going anywhere.”

warmth blooms in your chest, melting away the doubts. and when he kisses your forehead gently, it’s like the final seal on his promise.

PARK SUNGHOON

the elevator doors slide shut, leaving just you and sunghoon in the small, enclosed space. his shoulders brush against yours, a stark reminder of how close you’re standing. you glance up at him nervously, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the tense set of his shoulders. why does he look so annoyed? he hasn’t said a word since you two left the event.

you press the button for your floor, stealing another look at him. he’s staring straight ahead, expression unreadable, but you can tell something’s different today. his jaw is clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets, tension radiating from him.

it hits you then—he saw you talking to that guy earlier. your colleague from work, who’s been too friendly lately.

the elevator jolts slightly as it begins its ascent, and the silence stretches. you clear your throat, shifting nervously, taking a quick glance at his side profile, “sunghoon, about earlier—”

“does he always touch you like that?” his voice is low, cold even, cutting through the still air like a blade, face away from yours, looking straight ahead.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “what?”

he turns to you, stepping closer until the space between you is almost nonexistent. “your ‘friend’ at the office,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing, leaning his head down as he loosens his tie. “he seemed too comfortable.”

you feel a flicker of heat rising in your chest—he’s jealous. But why? “sunghoon, it’s not—”

“i don’t care what you think it is.” his hand reaches out, gripping the side of the elevator wall beside your head, caging you in. his breath hitches as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. “we might be pretending, but i don’t like it when anyone else looks at you that way. you’re mine.”

the possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. your heart pounds as you try to process the sudden shift in his demeanour, the unspoken intensity in his eyes, the impossibly fast heartbeat of yours.

“we’re not real, remember?” you manage to whisper, though your body betrays you, leaning into the space between you two.

“then tell me,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. his fingers brush lightly against your waist, the touch sending shivers down your spine. “why does it hurt so much seeing another guy looking at you?”

you stare at him, mouth dry, as his eyes drop to your lips.

“i don’t want to pretend anymore,” he whispers, “please..” a desperate plea from his lips as his hands control itself to not pull you in, but you don't wait, and close the gap between your lips. and he pulls you closer, bodies clashing against each other as the kiss escalates. he smirks into the kiss, you're his for real now.

KIM SUNOO

it’s pouring rain, and you’re soaked to the bone, standing under a bus stop shelter that does little to keep you dry. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting your umbrella, shivering as the cold wind cuts through your drenched clothes. just when you think your day can’t get any worse, a familiar car pulls up beside the curb, headlights cutting through the downpour.

the passenger window rolls down, and there he is—kim sunoo, your ‘fake’ boyfriend, his brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and concern. “get in before you freeze,” he calls out, voice muffled by the sound of the rain.

you don’t need to be told twice. you scramble into the car, teeth chattering as you tug the door shut behind you. the warmth of the heater engulfs you instantly, and sunoo’s jacket is shoved into your hands before you can even register what’s happening. “you’re going to catch a cold,” he scolds, his voice laced with worry as he glances at your shivering form, “why didn't you call me?”

you blink up at him, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “i … i didn’t want to bother you.”

sunoo sighs, leaning closer until you can see every droplet of rain clinging to his hair, every crease in his usually cheerful face. “idiot,” he murmurs, voice low and filled with something you can’t quite name. “you’re never a bother to me.”

your heart skips as he reaches out, brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead with gentle fingers. his hand lingers, thumb tracing your chilled cheek softly.

for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he reaches over, wiping a raindrop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, the gesture so gentle it makes your heart skip. “do you know how worried i was? pretend or not, i don’t want to see you like this,” he murmurs, his hand lingering near your face.

before you can respond, he leans over and tucks the jacket around your shoulders, pulling you close until you’re huddled against his chest and neck. “you’re mine to worry about,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then one on the bridge of your nose.

in that moment, under the sound of rain and the warmth of his embrace, it doesn’t feel like an act anymore.

YANG JUNGWON

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. the plan was rather simple—show up together at the dinner, play the perfect couple in front of his friends, and go home as usual. but then the storm hit, trapping you at his apartment afterward, the rain pouring down outside in heavy sheets, drenching the city.

jungwon sits beside you on the couch, the dim glow of the lamp casting shadows across his sharp features, and you force yourself to look away. his jacket is discarded on the floor, sleeves rolled up as he runs a hand through his damp hair, frustrated by the turn of events. he looks too handsome right now.

it’s quiet, too quiet, with only the sound of rain tapping against the windows.

“looks like you’re stuck here,” he says, leaning back casually, but there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore. you tug the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to stay calm, but the warmth of the apartment and the intimacy of the moment is starting to make you nervous.

“i'll crash on the couch,” you mutter awkwardly, avoiding his gaze, but jungwon’s eyes are on you, piercing, like he’s studying every inch of your face. he doesn’t say anything at first, but then he moves closer, his knee brushing against yours, you shiver.

“you don’t have to,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver through you. his hand rests lightly on your knee, but it’s enough to make your heart race. “you can take the bed.”

before you can respond, jungwon cups your chin gently, turning your face toward his. his touch is soft but firm, like he’s been holding back for too long. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch, as his as well.

“we don’t have to pretend all the time, you know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something real, “it's getting so hard for me…”

your heart skips a beat, and suddenly the fake relationship feels far too real. “jungwon, what are you saying?” you ask, your voice trembling as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, hands falling down to your waist to pull you closer.

“i'm saying,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours, “that i want to kiss you, but in a real boyfriend way, and love you too while at that.”

the rain continues to fall outside, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart as his lips brush softly against yours, the kiss gentle but full of unspoken emotions, before it quickly melts to an intense one. he pulls away slightly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers, “stay with me tonight… for real.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you never expected to find yourself in a fake relationship with riki, of all people—the energetic, mischievous older brother of your best friend. when he overheard you venting about your annoying ex constantly showing up at your favourite hangouts, he had put up a sly smirk and volunteered to be your fake boyfriend.

“think of it as a win-win. i get to mess with people’s heads, and you get a human shield. plus,” he had said, winking playfully, “it’ll be fun.”

you should’ve known that riki’s idea of ‘fun’ involved way more than you’d bargained for.

tonight, at your favourite late-night café, you spot your ex walking in, scanning the crowd. you freeze, heart thudding. before you can react, riki slides his arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. his scent—a mix of citrus and something else uniquely him—makes your pulse spike. it’s only for show, you remind yourself. except … he’s suddenly so convincing.

“hey, baby, you okay?” riki’s voice is loud enough to catch your ex’s attention, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. he leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling your ear. “you’re all tense.”

you fight the shiver that runs down your spine. “stop playing around,” you mutter, but he just smirks.

“i’m not playing,” he murmurs back, eyes twinkling. his gaze flicks toward your ex, who’s now glaring at you both, and riki’s grip tightens around you possessively. “i told you i’m the best at this.”

the next thing you know, riki’s turning you slightly in his arms, cupping your cheek in a way that looks so natural it makes your heart skip. the café lights catch on the gleam in his eyes—intense, focused. your ex is staring daggers at him now, but riki pays him no mind. instead, his thumb brushes your jaw softly, his face hovering inches from yours.

“relax, would you?” he murmurs, but his voice has lost its teasing edge. there’s something almost… protective in the way he’s watching you.

“riki —” you start, but he cuts you off by leaning even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me handle this.”

before you can process his words, he pulls you flush against him, his eyes never leaving your ex’s face. then, with a cocky grin, he dips his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

you freeze, heart pounding. when he finally pulls back, his gaze meets yours, unreadable. “there,” he says softly, still holding you close. “you’re mine now. got it?” and from the look on his face, you’re not entirely sure he’s pretending anymore.

© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission / div cr plutism

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels CLICK ME

Hanna y tú hicisteis contacto visual mientras ella le dio una caricia en el brazo a Belle, buscando reconfortarla. Tus mejillas se llenaron de aire mientras suspirabas, dejando que tu rostro expresase una angustia parecida. El olor a tabaco y a un gas que no reconocías te estaba mareando y no os podíais mover de mesa por miedo a que la perdierais, pese a los pesados chicos ya borrachos que se dediacaban a ingerir ese especial tipo de aire a vuestro lado. Y parecía que lo hacían especialmente en vuestra dirección.

—Voy a preguntarle al guardia de seguridad si ya nos deja salir aunque falte tiempo. Este aire me está mareando—. Hanna, que era fumadora solamente los días de fiesta y Belle, que estaba acostumbrada al olor por su novio, asintieron en tu dirección, la última sonriendo con mucha esperanza a la posible temprana salida.

Y es que en tu cabeza no entendías por qué pese a haber entrado a la una de la mañana, los guardias de la discoteca no os podían haber puesto el sello o pulsera correspondiente, depende de la noche, para poder salir de la discoteca y volver a entrar sin tener que pagar otra vez. "Hasta las dos de la mañana no se sella hoy, acordaros" había dicho aquel alto hombre calvo vestido completamente de negro y con un gran pero abstracto tatuaje en el cuello.

Suspiraste de nuevo mientras salías de la terraza de la discoteca, único lugar dónde había mesas. El problema era que para poder llegar a la salida había que adentrarse al lugar en el que estaba la gente bailando, y pese a ser temprano, ya había colas para poder moverse debido a la cantidad de cuerpos danzando al ritmo de la música. Así, mientras te adentrabas en aquella zona de sudor y lujuria, te tocó quedarte esperando cerca de la barra libre a que los dos chicos que tenías delante terminasen su "qué tal todo?" conversación y así dejasen de bloquear el camino.

Intentando no llamar su atención, te apartaste a un lado, apoyándote en la barra mientras mirabas a tu alrededor. Podías ver a tus amigas desde el cristal que conectaba el interior con el exterior, y el ceño fruncido de Belle te hizo apurar. No había cenado mucho por dolores menstruales y ahora estaba pasando un hambre voraz. Necesitaba salir cuanto antes para poder ir a comprar cualquier cosa comestible al 24 horas más cercano.

Volviendo a girar la cabeza para continuar con tu misión de averiguar si el de seguridad os dejaba salir ya o no, tus ojos se cruzaron súbitamente con unos oscuros, rasgados y brillantes.

Apoyado sobre sus codos en la barra, con una chupa de cuero y unos pendientes plateados, el chico al que le pertenecía aquella curiosa mirada apartó uno de los mechones de pelo que, resistiéndose a la gomina con la que se había peinado, se caía despreocupadamente por su cara. Levantó la barbilla, sonrió y alzó una ceja.

Apartaste la mirada al momento mientras tus mejillas adoptaban un rubor no visible gracias a la poca iluminación que caracterizaba la pista de baile.

Los chicos de que obstruían el paso todavía seguían hablando y la chica de top con estampado de leopardo te miraba impacientemente, no entendiendo por qué no les decías nada.

Claro que de la impaciencia de aquella chica no te habías ni percatado, una calidez expandiéndose por tu pecho y tus pelos de la nuca erizándose desvergonzadamente, te nublaban cualquier otro pensamiento que no fuese uno: el chico te seguía mirando.

Y Jake no apartaba la mirada mientras se llevaba el vaso de líquido desconocido a la boca, degustando cada parte de tu silueta (la cual eran simples hombros, cuello y perfil debido a la cantidad de personas a vuestro alrededor) con la vista como si hubiese algo que se le escapaba. Te mordiste el labio inferior inconscientemente. Lo encontró.

Comprendiste, intentando centrarte en tu objetivo de llegar al guardia de seguridad, que por aquel camino no ibas a conseguir nada y menos cuando aquellos chicos empezaron a hablar del partido de ayer de fútbol tan polémico. Tenías que irte por otra vía posible, siendo esa y la única la de rodear la barra, es decir, ir hacia aquel chico de nariz romana y anillos en sus dedos.

No eras una persona acostumbrada a cierto tipo de situaciones en las que uno de los participantes fuese un chico que te estaba atrayendo tanto. En tus años de vida, en los cuales llegaste a hacer la común reflexión acerca de tu sexualidad, nunca se te había presentado tan claro que sentías cierta inclinación hacia los hombres como ahora. Tus ojos te traicionaron y le miraron una vez más entre pestañeos, tu interior despertándose. Estaba incluso demasiado claro para ti que te atraía, no pudiendo evitar lamerte los labios del nerviosismo de acercarse a tan... ¿infierno?

Jake lo estaba disfrutando tremendamente mientras alzaba las cejas. Siendo tan perceptivo como era, había comprendido perfectamente tu dilema, pues te había interceptado desde que te habías adentrado en el interior de la discoteca. Así, vio cómo, ignorando su constante mirada como si no existiera, te hiciste paso por el borde de la barra, permitiéndole ver a cuanta menos distancia estabas de él, más tu outfit. Su sonrisa se tornó ladina.

Justo cuando pensaste que un chico en la barra iba a impedir ese contacto directo entre Jake y tú, se apartó de ella, yendo a hablar con su grupo de amigos mientras, no pudiéndote quedar como una tonta en medio de todos parada, seguiste caminado. Estabais a dos pasos, Jake ya no mirándote directamente al entender el límite entre observación e intimidación, y todo parecía que iba a ir normal, si no contamos los intensos latidos de tu corazón y la sequía de tu garganta cuanto más te acercabas, la tension sexual tornándose frustrante al ver la anchura de sus hombros.

Pero calculaste mal y aquel chico que se había apartado para ir con sus amigos, volvió a acercarse a la barra, habiéndose alejado solo para preguntarle a sus amigos que debía pedir y, como había sido tan momentaneo, se dirigió de nuevo a la barra sin mirar de frente, chocando contigo y, por la diferencia de tamaño, empujándote, hasta que acabaste chocando con Jake, quien te agarró de la cintura acompañando el impulso del empujón hasta finalizar en su regazo.

Hace cinco segundos estabas superando su existencia y ahora estabas sentada en su regazo, mientras acariciando tu oreja con su aliento decía: "Cuidado, señorita".

El rubor desde tan corta distancia se tornó visible y Jake sonrió para sus adentros. Te levantaste al momento de su regazo, pidiendo perdón casi susurrando mientras Jake te observó de arriba a abajo, su mano todavía en tu cintura pese a haberte levantado.

—No pasa nada, hay demasiada gente. Estabas intentando salir, ¿verdad?— Su voz hizo que te tenblaran las rodillas, para qué negarlo. Asentiste, muda ante tu demasiada consciencia del contacto de su mano en tu cintura. Jake la apartó, no queriendo pasarse con su pequeño juego. Se lamió los labios. Tu mirada se fijó en su lengua.

—Yo también tenía pensado salir. Será mejor que vayas detrás de mí o te empujarán como antes. Aunque no te creas que a mí me ha molestado...—Jake alzó una ceja, lanzándote una indirecta que significaba lo que obviamente significaba. Sintiéndote tan atraída a aquel chico que parecía igual de atraído a ti, le sonreiste. —A mí tampoco—.

Oh, el corazón de Jake dio un vuelco.

Y otra parte de su cuerpo también.

Así, salisteis los dos de la discoteca, ocasionalmente tu mano agarrándose al borde de su chaqueta de cuero. Una vez fuera, os situasteis al lado de un soportal vacío y Jake, teniéndote justo donde quería, se quitó su chaqueta.

Y sí, la tension sexual se hizo demasiado insoportable, y más cuando, entre palabras como "preciosa" o "linda", Jake comenzó a entablar conversación contigo, tus risas intentando apaciguar el efecto que aquella camiseta de tirantes blanca estaba teniendo en ti. Sus bíceps, sus manos tan delicadas y cuyas venas eran tan perfectamente trazables. Te reías, sonreías, alzabas las cejas, enviabas miradas nada inocentes...

Lujuria, deseo. Jake hizo una broma sobre física y te lamiste los labios tras reírte. Hiciste un comentario ingenioso ante su broma, Jake se quedó mirandote a los ojos después de asentir suavemente. Se acercó, tu espalda pegada a la pared, su chaqueta de cuero mágicamente en tus hombros. Ladeaste la cabeza mientras susurrabas su nombre, negando inocentemente.

Jake se acercó un paso más. Alzaste la barbilla para poder seguir manteniendo el contacto visual. No hizo falta, Jake lo rompió al mirarte a los labios.

Abriste la boca, suspirando. Sus manos respondieron, encontrando rápidamente tus caderas. Ahora miraste tú hacia sus labios.

—Me gustaría hacer una cosa pero no sé si tengo el permiso— Susurró mientras su respiración se aceleraba. Viendo el efecto que tenías en él, colocaste tus manos en su pecho, cuya silueta era visible por lo apretado de la camiseta. Jake tuvo el impulso casi animal de acercar peligrosamente su cadera hacia la tuya.

—Prueba y verás— No sabes de dónde salieron aquellas palabras, pero permitieron que Jake, que jamás tal y como tú se había sentido así por alguien, se acercara con lentitud a tus labios y, suavemente, como si lo que estabais sintiendo fuese demasiado intenso como para lanzarse sin titubear, rozó sus labios con los tuyos.

Gemiste mientras arrugabas su querida y tan bonita camiseta de tirantes.

🤍