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#nct 127 imagines
chocolvte · a year ago
nct reaction: some cute little habits the 127 members have with their s/o
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listen to n°1 loves you by phangs
this one isn’t requested, but i couldn’t resist writing it once i thought of the idea! i hope you guys enjoy it too!
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「 taeil 」
𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 — taeil thinks just about everything you do is too cute to handle, so in the beginning of your relationship, when he was still just crushing on you, he used to pinch your cheeks and go, “aw, cute!” all the time, but now he does it almost as a greeting? he’ll just sit next to you, pinch one of your cheeks, and say, “hi, pumpkin.”
「 johnny 」
𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒑𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕 — he just always has his hand on your butt, no matter where you are, and recently he’s developed a habit of just slipping his hand into your back pocket and holding onto you. sometimes he does it to tease you, but most of the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until his hand is already in your pocket.
「 taeyong 」
𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 — if you were to ask him, this is probably something he doesn’t even realize he does. whether it’s something big (like your bag or a textbook) or something small (like a coffee or your puppy’s leash) he always finds himself taking it for you. sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s holding them for you until you have to part ways and then he blushes a lot and apologizes but it’s honestly really cute.
「 yuta 」
𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒑 — neither of you are sure when this habit started, but you’re pretty sure there’s no stopping it now. no matter how much space you have on whatever you’re sitting on, yuta will still find a way to get you in his lap. he just likes having you there and feeling your weight spread out across his legs and knowing that, at least in that moment, you’re safe and cared for.
「 doyoung 」
𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓 — this is definitely one of those habits that doyoung doesn’t even realize he has and blushes bright pink over whenever it’s mentioned. whether you have short hair or wavy hair or curls or braids or whatever else, doyoung always finds himself absentmindedly twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers or running his hands through it or tugging a piece of it gently while he listens to you talk.
「 jaehyun 」
𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 — this started with his back hugs. jaehyun is almost always wrapping his arms around your waist from behind or tugging you into his lap, so your shoulder is always at the perfect height for him to rest his head. more often than not, if you’re alone or with friends, jaehyun has his arms around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder. (plus an added bonus: you get cheek kisses whenever you want!)
「 winwin 」
𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 — sicheng has always been surprisingly generous when it comes to sharing his food with you. even if he’s already said no to everyone else, somehow he can never find a way to say no to you. it’s gotten to the point where he automatically hands you a piece before you even have to ask. plus, you always look so cute when you eat! (he especially loves when your cheeks get all round and full of food, he always pokes em and laughs)
「 jungwoo 」
𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕 — jungwoo just loves you okay? he loves you to pieces and he loves touching you and he’s going to do that whenever he possibly can. there’s something about the feeling of your skin under his hands that he find so comforting, so he’s always pulling you into hugs and sliding his hands up under your shirt to trace circles over your hips and tummy
「 mark 」
𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 — even if you don’t ask for them, mark is definitely the type of boyfriend to dress you in his hoodies and t-shirts whenever possible. you never have to bring a change of clothes when you sleep over, because mark’s always got you covered. he doesn’t even really think about it sometimes; he just tosses you a hoodie as soon as you come over.
「 haechan 」
𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 — it’s like his hands have a mind of their own. as soon as your hand is within reach, they’re on the move, linking his fingers through yours and brushing his thumb across your knuckles. this happens when he’s deep in thought, when you’re walking next to each other, and especially when he’s feeling sad, but he never has to think about it. he just turns to you for comfort or security automatically.
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tyonfs · 11 months ago
i like me better (when i’m with you)
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PAIRING ▸ jeong jaehyun x fem!reader 
GENRES ▸ friends to enemies to lovers, college au, sports, friends with benefits, smut, crack, fluff 
WARNINGS ▸ sexual !! tension !! lots of it, smut (public sex, fingering, hate sex, raw sex, pool sex, oral sex), mark lee cockblocking, also yes, there’s actual fluff
SUMMARY ▸ there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 
PLAYLIST ▸ i like me better by lauv • unravel me by sabrina claudio
WORD COUNT ▸ 11896 words
TAG LIST ▸ @gotoartistprofile @chanluster​ @steamyjaehyun
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ big shoutout to fia for hyping me up to complete this and i hope you guys enjoy it !! thank you so much for reading ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately!
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To the average human being, Jeong Jaehyun was, in a sense, perfect. On the surface, he was everyone’s trademark Golden Boy—good grades, athletic, and a seemingly good personality. The last point, however, was a complete and utter lie. Simply put, Jaehyun was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you, unfortunately, wound up becoming his target.
If it weren’t for your love for cheerleading, you probably would never have to see Jaehyun, but your passion came with a price. Competitors were often asked a series of questions, and these questions typically included inquiring about your hardships as an athlete. If someone were to ask you what the hardest part of being a cheerleader was, your answer would not be what they expected.
It wasn’t getting back up after bad falls that left you with bruises and a concussion. It wasn’t dealing with the basketball team’s aftermath of a devastating loss and having to cheer them on through it. It wasn’t waking up extra early for morning practices, or having to push yourself to run miles in the sweltering heat. Hell, it wasn’t even dealing with the horny basketball team members at afterparties.
It was the annual training camp.
Every winter, the team attended a week-long training session along with several other teams in the city. With state-of-the-art facilities and a massive training center, the training camp was an event that the entire team looked forward to. Although the training was brutal, the luxury of the hotel rooms and the gourmet meals had made up for all of that. Yet, despite all of that, the camp itself was still hell for you.
It wasn’t all bad, though. In fact, you indulged in the concept of a training camp, delighted with the opportunity to meet cheerleaders from different universities. A handful of your friends from high school had joined teams at different universities, so it was exciting to get to see them all again. All in all, it was the whole package deal: friends, your favorite sport, and fun times. What could possibly ruin that?
Well, a certain someone by the name of Jeong Jaehyun could, and that wonderful individual incensed your fury quite like no other.
“You again,” you spat, clutching your duffel bag strap. You had just gotten off the bus to head into the hotel, but the devil himself was blocking your way.
“Y/N,” the devil cooed, “do you need help carrying that?”
“I’m fine.”
You shrugged Jaehyun off and tried to move past him, but the bane of your existence had other plans. He tossed you a small carton of milk; it was the kind you could buy at a vending machine. Your reflexes kicked in just in time for you to catch it, giving him a questioning look.
“You should be drinking more milk, Y/N. It’s good for you,” Jaehyun said. You were sure he was going to make a snide comment so you opened your mouth to protest, but he continued, “Jaemin likes big tits, you know?”
You and Jaehyun went farther back than you’d like to admit. While you did currently attend different universities, you had the joyous experience of going to the same high school as him. He wasn’t too different now; he had the same dimpled smile, the same godly features, and the same cocky smirk when things were going the way he planned. What was different was that you two were once friends.
And what took the cake? You had a big crush on his friend and fellow teammate. Introducing Na Jaemin, everyone.
It wasn’t like you never got over Jaemin, but you had to admit that your heart still fluttered pitifully whenever you saw him. It didn’t help that he was so breathtakingly beautiful, so undeniably genuine, and such a sweetheart. Unfortunately, Jaehyun knew of your little secret. Being the conniving little snake he was, he used it to his advantage.
Ever since your fallout with him in your senior year of high school, you’ve hated Jeong Jaehyun, and you were sure he hated you right back. It almost felt akin to the competition at this point, and you were a pretty sore loser. Honestly, you were sad initially when he broke off your friendship in senior year and threw crude insults at you. You normally didn’t let things get to you, but it hurt to hear that your best friend didn’t want anything to do with you after you had told him you were going to a different university. You were sure the both of you had grown past that, but now he had changed from a sincere highschooler to a complete low-life piece of shit.
“You’re a douche, Jaehyun,” you sneered.
A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I know.”
You scoffed. “God, if I could, I would smash that pretty face into—”
“Hey!” a loud voice laced with trepidation interjected. It was your best friend on your school’s basketball team, Mark Lee, coming to your rescue; or, rather, he was trying to prevent you from doing something you’d most probably regret. He shot Jaehyun a warning look and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, what’re you doing here? We have to check into our hotel rooms.”
You looked back at Jaehyun to see a smug look on his face before he turned to catch up to Taeyong and Jaemin. You looked back up at Mark, who was also keeping an eye out for the demon in disguise.
“Thanks for getting me out of that mess,” you mumbled. “That guy is so infuriating. I can’t believe he still brings up Jaemin when I’m clearly over him!”
Your words were sharp enough that Mark and the people around you flinched, even if they weren’t completely paying attention to your rant. It was common knowledge that Jaehyun’s presence left you in low spirits, and Mark had come to terms that you would always be in a bitter mood during the training camp, and that there was only one person to blame for it.
Mark shot you a sympathetic look that you knew was intended to show his helpfulness, but instead just served to make you appear all the more bitter.
“Why don’t you just ignore him?” he suggested. “He’s just looking for a reaction out of you.”
“If I let him get the last word, then he wins.”
“At least he’d stop bothering you,” Mark reasoned as you both made your way to where your team had gathered by the reception desk.
“Is this about Jaehyun again?” Zhong Chenle chimed in, a devilish grin plastered across his face. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped.
Chenle just stared at you, arching a brow as if the answer should have been obvious. “You and Jaehyun,” he said, “there’s some tension there.”
“Wow, Sherlock Holmes. Observant, aren’t you?” you spat, words dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve hated each other for years. Of course there’s tension.”
Johnny Suh snorted, averting his gaze as to not bring attention to himself. Chenle rolled his eyes, a delighted smile on his face as he watched you carefully, digging into his bag of chips in the meantime.
“Y/N, I think he means a different kind of tension,” Mark said.
“What kind of tension?” you asked, shocking the rest of them with your surprisingly innocent response. In retrospect, it was more because you couldn’t imagine the answer being anything past the realm of hatred.
While they all hesitated to respond, Johnny spoke up, “He meant the ‘I wanna beat you up and then have rough sex with you’ kind of tension.”
You immediately froze—long enough for Chenle to take a picture of your reaction—the expression on your face a cross between incredulity and visceral rage. You must have looked like a ticking time bomb because Mark had to take a cautious step back.
“Come again? Rough sex?” You were well aware of how strangled and pitched your voice sounded as soon as it escaped your lips, how guilty it sounded, but you couldn’t focus on that as the weight of Johnny’s words were sinking in. “Jaehyun and I?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Johnny answered.
“That’s a lie.”
“Yeah? Then why do you two always look at each other so weird?”
You didn’t know how to defend yourself now so you just said, “He’s a bastard and I would never see him in any other way.”
“You say that now but we all know—”
“Alright, let’s drop it,” Mark said, trying to defuse the situation before you blew it up into an argument. “I would rather go rest in my hotel room rather than bear witness to a homicide.”
“Fine, fine,” Johnny relented.
You scoffed and jabbed at his foot with yours before letting the topic go. Your squabbles with them were all in good nature, but this one somehow put you off. It was like Johnny had planted the seeds and were waiting for them to grow. You were starting to mull over every interaction you’ve had with Jeong Jaehyun.
Johnny and Chenle had made a startlingly accurate observation. You and Jaehyun did look at each other for a little too long sometimes, nearly to the point where it seemed like you were basking in the attention of the other—
No fucking way.
You were not going down that path. There was nothing more to your relationship with Jeong Jaehyun than pure hatred and resentment. He was a douchebag who was intent on making you feel like shit. His only motive was to start shit again between you and Jaemin, who you would’ve completely forgotten by now if it weren’t for him.
No way. There was absolutely no undercurrent of desire that was creeping its way to be uncovered.
Or was there? a small, treacherous part of your mind offered.
You were lost in your thoughts as the coaches handed you your room key, as you waited for your roommate who was some girl named Eunha from the other school, as you made your way to your room on the fifth floor.
The only thing you could think about were those long stares, those mesmerizing eyes, and the implication behind them. You always attributed it to Jaehyun being a hormonal teenage boy, but you had to admit that you’ve seen him look at you with some semblance of lust. Perhaps that same feeling was buried far in the depths of your consciousness, too.
Could you possibly be attracted to the devil incarnate, Jeong Jaehyun?
No, you argued with yourself, and shit, even your frontal lobe sounded pretty unconvinced. He’s a petty bastard and that’s all he’ll ever be.
You instilled the mantra of you and Jaehyun being sworn enemies in your head, but you couldn’t help the fact that it was peppered by the memories of an irritatingly familiar smirk. You scowled, willing your head to get rid of all-things-Jeong-Jaehyun, but he was right there.
He was standing right in front of you.
“Hey, neighbor,” he teased, all too satisfied with the horrified look on your face. “Guess you can’t get rid of me.”
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You were falling when you jolted awake.
A groan tore its way past your lips. You made sure you didn’t disrupt Eunha’s sleep before you recounted your dream. It had been a while since you’ve had one, and realization was morphing into shame when you realized what kind of dream it was. You’ve never had a wet dream before but what made you want to astral project yourself into oblivion was when you realized that Jaehyun caused it.
After tossing and turning for a couple of minutes in a desperate attempt for sleep to overcome you once more, you came to terms with the fact that you were staying awake for now. Staying awake was worse, though, because there was no way you could keep the intruding thoughts at bay. Not with the way Jeong Jaehyun kept flashing behind your eyelids, at least.
You considered how to spend the rest of your night, surveying your options as you stared up at the ceiling:
Watch season three of Riverdale on Netflix so you could make fun of it.
Attempt to sleep, but with little success because there was no way you were going back to bed after that dream.
Count the slacks of the window’s blinds even though it would be pointless because what the fuck were you going to do with that information?
It was truly astounding how interesting your life was.
You couldn’t think clearly with Eunha’s soft snoring, so you grabbed your keys and pushed the door open carefully to keep it from squealing. After your delicate movements to escape your room quietly, you leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. You weren’t too keen on someone scolding you in the middle of the night for being outside, but you needed to clear your head somewhere. You packed for weather that was balmy, but the air conditioner carried a bite to it that made you wish you hadn’t just worn shorts and a tank top to bed.
You could practically hear Mark mocking you if he were here: Are you in the right headspace, Y/N?
You shook your head, getting your provoking best friend out of there, but instead, you found yourself wandering into dangerous territory again.
Johnny and Chenle were parroting the same words over and over again in your head. You wished you could use your metaphysical hands in your head and squeeze the life out of them, but they always flew out of your grasp. You clicked your tongue absentmindedly, your annoyance rehashing itself as your mind gravitated back to Jeong Jaehyun with his stupid smirk and annoyingly persistent cockiness. It was almost pitiful that you hated his guts and yet you couldn’t deny the magnetism he carried, the pull that made your breath hitch when he met your eyes.
His presence was announced by the change in the air more than anything else. You didn’t have to see him to know he was there. You clenched your jaw; you couldn’t catch a break from him even during the ungodly hours of the night.
He was unavoidable.
He hummed with amusement. “Look who’s here.”
“What are you doing up this late? Go to bed.”
You didn’t even bother to look at him because there was one thing you were sure of and it was that you could not look at his sickeningly attractive face right now. Jaehyun didn’t move, blatantly ignoring your order. The tension was so thick that you wanted to storm away, but you knew he would follow you just to piss you off.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You should be the one resting up. You cheerleaders always train until you’re near death.”
“Can’t sleep,” was your curt response.
He laughed once, a short sound that was pretty much gone the moment it hit your eardrums. “What? You get nightmares or something?”
“So what if I do?” you retaliated, getting oddly defensive. It was a given that you’d lie about getting a nightmare over a wet dream. “It’s none of your business.”
He laughed again but this time it was lower, more dangerous. “It’s my business when it concerns you.”
“I have and will never be your business, Jeong Jaehyun.”
He leaned against the wall. “I beg to differ.”
“Then keep begging.”
“If you say so.”
“Jaehyun,” you interrupted your own banter. “What’s the point of this conversation? Just go back to your room so we can go back to not talking to each other.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“That’s unfortunate,” you said. “I don’t want to talk to you, so go find someone who does.”
“We don’t have to talk.” Suddenly, his voice sounded closer, and you forced your gaze down at the strangely-patterned hotel carpet.
You swallowed thickly. “I’m here to clear my head. I don’t want you to hover around me for the rest of the night.”
“Actually, I had something else in mind.”
He closed in on you, one of his hands skimming up the soft skin of your arm. A shudder ran down your spine as you felt his fingers travel up to your shoulder, your collarbone, and then the side of your neck. With a swift movement, he caged you in his arms, biceps flexing as he did.
What was going on? You couldn’t quite keep up with the situation but the way Jaehyun was looking down at you made you feel hot. It was exactly like your dream—
“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.”
You couldn’t stop the words from escaping your lips when you felt his hot breath on your neck. Your head went fuzzy and you were pretty sure your knees were ready to buckle under you. The corner of Jaehyun’s lip lifted into a smirk as if he had been planning this. You mustered a scowl at him but one thing was clear: you screwed yourself over by getting into this situation.
Damn it. You knew you should’ve watched season three of Riverdale instead
Also, Chenle and Johnny were right. Not that you’d ever tell them that; put simply, you were a sore loser.
Lust was swimming in Jaehyun’s eyes. The way he caged you felt predatory, a show of dominance rather than passion. That smirk of his carved in deeper, and it only pissed you off. Yet, as much as it pissed you off, all you wanted him to do was just ruin you.
Your pride was too strong, though, and you concluded that you would rather stick a fork in your eye than let Jaehyun do what he wanted. This sparked a dilemma in your head: to fuck or not to fuck Jaehyun, that was the question. One sounded like a pretty uneventful night, while the other sounded appealing save for the self-loathing you’d experience afterward.
“You want me, Y/N,” he cooed. “I know you do.”
“I hate you.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“I mean it, Jaehyun,” you hissed. Your head was screaming at you to just go with it, but denying Jaehyun’s advances and provokes was just natural instinct to you. “I don’t want you. Stop lying to yourself.”
“Is that so? I think you’re the liar here,” he replied easily as you dodged his attempt to kiss you.
You pushed at his muscular arm but he didn’t budge. For a moment, you strongly considered just dropping to the ground and crawling out from under his legs, but you were done for. Seconds later, Jaehyun’s hand flew up, long fingers digging into the soft flesh of your face as he forced your chin upward to look at him directly. The lust in his eyes was so clear, so alluring, and it made you stop struggling for a second.
“I’m not going to ask you again. Let go of me.”
“Good, it’s a waste of breath.”
“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?”
“You did. Many times.”
“Just fuck off already.”
Your words were like poison, but for some odd reason, Jaehyun was immune to it. Any reasonable person would at least flinch, but Jaehyun was so fixated on his one goal. Again, he didn’t budge. He gazed into your eyes with a fierce intensity that threw you off.
“Just let me fucking kiss you, Y/N.”
His smirk was gone. He wasn’t teasing you anymore. Jaehyun’s eyes darkened with his command.
He leaned in and you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips, drinking in your appearance. You were pulled into his trap and you hated yourself for it. You swallowed hard as all of your worries about being with Jaehyun and getting caught had started to fade away. All you could do was yield to him.
“Fine,” you whispered.
“Good girl,” was all he got out before basically smashing your lips together.
It was rushed, messy, and way too rough. Jaehyun grabbed the back of your neck, his other arm still locking you in place. Your hands moved from gripping at the front of his shirt to slowly wrapping around his neck. You weren’t sure how you felt, but there was something that made you want to tangle your fingers in his hair and get lost in him.
The moment Jaehyun’s tongue slid along the crease of your lips, you were conflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what to do so he took the reins. You wondered if he was expressing his pent-up hatred as well. It was clear in the way he was taking prying your mouth open with his tongue, snaking his hot muscle to dance with yours as if he had something to prove. He wanted you to see that he was the dominant one, that he had leverage over the situation.
But when he broke away, he flipped the switch. The both of you were left catching your breath, Jaehyun resting his forehead against yours in a feeling that had a weird sort of intimacy stemming from it. His hand dropped from your neck to brush messy locks of hair behind your shoulders.
Well, that explained why humans were so tempted by the devil.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jaehyun grinned down at you.
You fought down the shyness that was creeping into your chest. Before you could respond, the both of you turned your heads at the sound of footsteps. A flashlight glimpsed by you when you saw two dark figures at the end of the hall. It didn’t sound like your coach, but you weren’t too keen on sticking around to figure out who it was.
“Son, how in the world did you get locked out of your room this late?” one of them asked.
“I’m telling you, I needed to use the bathroom so I went outside without my key, and then I remembered the bathroom was in the room.”
That voice was most definitely Mark.
“Hey!” the security guard scolded when he saw you two. “What are you kids doing? It’s late!”
“You’re on your own.” You pushed Jaehyun away from you and fumbled for your keys before Mark or the security guard could spot you. “Bye.”
You jammed your key in, not worried about waking up your roommate anymore. All you could hear was Jaehyun growling out a short string of curses before you shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Your head was still reeling in what had just happened, but that kiss had left you in the clouds. You could feel the ghost of his lips on yours. Dazed, you just fell onto your bed, into the entrancing clutches of sleep.
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You were exhausted when you woke up, and you blamed Jaehyun for it.
You weren’t in the proper condition for training; you hadn’t gotten enough sleep and your head was a mess (well, you supposed you were the only one to blame for the latter). You forgot to set your alarm so you woke up to Eunha shaking you gently, coaxing you into stirring. She was already dressed, tying her hair up in a ponytail. You all but jumped out of bed when you saw her, thinking you were late.
“What time is it?” you asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stood up and tried to adjust to the morning light.
“You’ve still got plenty of time,” she assured you. “I just like to get ready early so I can go for a quick run.”
“Ah, okay. Have fun,” you mumbled before she left the room, leaving you to drag yourself around the room to get ready. You heard a knock at the door and went to open it, assuming it was Eunha forgetting her keys. Your eyes narrowed when you saw who it was. “Jaehyun?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was somewhere between a pant and a rasp as if he had been working out, which he probably was judging by the sheen of sweat on his biceps.
“Were you waiting for Eunha to leave?” you asked. “You’re disgusting. Why would you think about me?”
“I was thinking about how much of a bitch you are for running away and letting me get in trouble like that.”
“Pity.” You mocked a pout for him. “Now move. I have to get ready.”
“Let me in.”
You made a face at the thought. You knew where he was going with this and you needed to stop it. “No. You’re disgusting.”
“You liked it last night.”
His eyes searched yours in the dim light, looking for something that unfortunately was there: longing. You were never the greatest at hiding your emotions, which was why you couldn’t lie to yourself and refuse Jaehyun. Screw your transparency. Jaehyun grinned at your silence and took a step in your room when you opened your door wider for him.
You closed the door. “I hated every second of it,” you said in a childish attempt to get on his nerves.
You were a terrible liar.
Your back was against the door in a second. You could only let out a soft gasp before he kissed you, hands on your waist, slowing his movements unlike the hurriedness from last night. It was foreign, the way he kissed you like you were the only girl he saw. You pulled away quickly but it just left the both of you staring at each other’s lips.
“You sure about that?” His lips curled into a smirk.
“Don’t get me wrong,” you warned in a low voice, “I still hate your guts.”
“As I’m reminded of every single time I see you,” he returned coolly.
“Fuck off.”
This time, you pulled him down to kiss him again. You fisted your hand into his hair, tugging at his dark locks as your lips moved smoothly against his. Caught off guard, Jaehyun groaned, low and deep against your lips.
The two of you separated again before Jaehyun said, “See? I know you want me. Only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.”
You scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”
Jaehyun’s eyes darkened at the challenge. To prove his point, he pushed his knee up and between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. A gasp escaped your lips, the fingers curled in his hair instinctively tightening. You bit your lip but to no avail; a whimper escaped your lips as soon as he started pulsing his knee against you. You grabbed onto his shoulders for leverage, burying your face into his chest while bunching up the thin fabric of his shirt.
You wanted to hold back your moans because you were adamant about not giving Jeong Jaehyun the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Instead, you shifted your hips so that the pressure of his knee became more intense. Sparks flew behind your eyelids as he bounced his knee under you.
He finally released the tight grip he had on your waist in favor of palming one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly through your shirt and bra. All the while, he continued ramming his knee against the apex of your legs. He kept his eyes on yours and you scowled at the thought of him getting off on seeing you crumble in front of him. But you couldn’t stop yourself. He wanted to completely and utterly ruin you, wanted to fuck you in and shut you up.
The worst part was that you wanted to let him.
“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he mused, slowly rubbing his knee in circles against you. “God, you’re still wearing that fucking tank top.”
“You’re such a—ah!”
He groped your chest again, thumb pressing down on your nipple. Another whimper escaped you as Jaehyun grazed his lips down your neck, nipping at the supple skin. You only got louder as the kisses turned into bites.
He ignored you and removed his hand. Instead, he tugged the neckline of your tank top down, delighted at the loose straps sliding down your shoulders. He yanked it down to your waist so you were exposed to him, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. Jaehyun pinched your nipple with two fingers, drawing out a moan that drove him crazy. He buried his face into your neck, sucking and making you quiver under him.
“Didn’t you say I had small tits earlier?” you jeered, a teasing lilt to your tone.
“Yeah, I still stand by that,” he replied, resulting in you punching his shoulder.
“Hey, I never said it wasn’t cute.”
“You’re such a softie,” you grumbled, but your voice was gentler than before. It was almost like you were warming up to Jeong Jaehyun, and you hated the mere thought of that.
Jaehyun pulled away from your neck. “Y/N, I want you to suck me off,” he demanded.
“I refuse.”
“Be a good girl and do it for me.”
You swore you’d go crazy if he called you ‘good girl’ one more time. You were pretty revolted at the thought of sucking his dick, but the way he looked so fragile under your hold made you want to do it for the power rush. It was like some cheap porno in a way; ‘College Jock Gets Sucked Off By Cheerleader.’ You bet half the members on the team beat their meat to something similar to that.
Your shoulders sagged. “Fine. Get on the bed.”
Jaehyun groaned at your approval. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, letting go of you to pull down his sweats on his way to your bed. He sat at the edge of it, tugging the elastic of his boxers down. You swallowed hard, tugging your tank top back up as you stared at his painfully hard erection springing out.
You got on your knees in front of him, lips parted in anticipation of taking in his length. Your hair fell over your face, which Jaehyun took notice of and held it back in a fist. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his cock. It was rock solid to the touch and twitched at your grip. Glancing up at an eager Jaehyun, you pumped the length of it once, inciting a groan from him.
You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, rousing a strangled noise from his throat. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, messy strands of your hair tangling in his fingers while his other hand was gripping the stiff hotel sheets. Then, you took him in fully at his encouragement (which was more of him just grabbing the back of your head and pushing it down on his cock).
“Shit,” he breathed out before slowly moving his hips in and out of your mouth. It was like iron wrapped around velvet, and he was relishing how hot your mouth felt.
He pushed your head down further and right as you gagged on his length, there was a knock at the door.
“Y/N!” Mark’s voice sounded from the other side. “Are you coming for breakfast?”
You pulled off of him with a pop, a string of saliva dripping off your lips. Your eyes were wide as you lunged for your phone, checking the texts. Meanwhile, Jaehyun just frowned down at you, looking up at the ceiling with a frustrated sigh.
“Holy fuck,” you muttered when you looked at the time. You called out to Mark, “Give me a minute!”
“Perfect,” Jaehyun said in a low voice and held the back of your head, attempting to push you down on him. “We can finish up now.”
“Are you an idiot?” you hissed, swatting at his hand. “I have to get out of here before Mark finds out you’re in here.”
Ignoring your state of panic, Jaehyun said, “You look so hot with drool on your chin.”
That was the most disgusting thing you had ever heard, and if it weren’t for Mark being on the other side of the door where you and Jaehyun were screwing around, you would have beat the living daylights out of him. Only a creep like Jeong Jaehyun could find something like drool sexy. You scowled at him and wiped it off with the back of your hand.
“Put your dick away,” you scolded. “Hide in the closet and you can leave when I’m gone.”
He rolled his eyes at you and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. “I need to get rid of the problem you caused.”
You had no time to complain about him jerking off in your bathroom. Mark was not a very patient man, so as soon as Jaehyun closed the door behind him, you stripped off your pajamas and threw on whatever was at the top of your suitcase. You brushed your teeth at the speed of light, using your other hand to brush down your hair. After you laced up your shoes, you opened the door to Mark looking at you suspiciously.
“You’re never late,” he pointed out.
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” you said. In your defense, it wasn’t a complete lie.
“Oh, by the way,” Mark started, “can I use your bathroom real quick?”
“No!” you exclaimed, pushing him away from your room and in the direction of the elevator. “My roommate, um, is… on her period—yeah, you don’t want to see that mess.”
Another reason why you hated Jeong Jaehyun was for giving you reasons to lie when you were a terrible liar.
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Training was long and grueling. Your bones were mush and your muscles ached, pins and needles shooting through you every time you moved. As your teammates dragged you to get dinner with them, you couldn’t even resist because you were so drained.
The one thing you loved about training was that you could wear whatever you wanted, whereas you were confined to tight skirts and crop tops at your university. Now, you could rest in whatever position you wanted without worrying about exposing anything, so you didn’t hesitate to manspread as soon as you got to the cafeteria table.
“Did you guys hear about Jaehyun from the other school?” one of the girls gossiped. “Looks like he was fooling around with someone last night.”
You were grounded back into reality from whatever dimension you were floating about in. Your teammates were perplexed as you choked on air, hitting your chest to stop yourself from coughing. You were handed a glass of water, which you gingerly accepted and drank until your body had calmed down.
“Ah, sorry, Y/N,” your teammate apologized. “I forgot you and Jaehyun have bad blood between you.”
“You’re good,” you told her, waving it off. “I was surprised for a second, but I guess it makes sense for a guy like him to go around hooking up.” Then, silence fell. You were confused as they all looked at you with a puzzled look. “What? Am I stereotyping too harshly? My bad.”
“No, it’s not that,” another chimed in. “A lot of girls go around hitting on him, but Jaehyun never lays a hand on them. I thought it was common knowledge that he doesn’t do that sort of stuff, but I guess it makes sense that you don’t care about the details.”
That was news to you.
“Yeah,” you replied distantly. “I don’t care.”
So Jaehyun doesn’t hook up, was what you happened to hear around the grapevine, and he most definitely doesn’t hook up with his enemies.
You stood up in the middle of your dinner. “I gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”
You actually weren’t very sure where Jaehyun was, but you figured if you walked around enough, you’d run into him or someone from his team. You headed out of the canteen and walked to the basketball courts, expecting to see him dribbling a bar or doing reps. But the first person you saw was Na Jaemin, and he noticed you immediately, eyes sparkling with recognition.
“Y/N!” he greeted cheerfully. “It’s been so long.”
That infectious smile of his was plastered across his face, making a small one creep to your lips. If Jaehyun smiled like that more, then you could understand his charm, but he was always so moody around you. He either did something to get on your nerves or he would just flat-out ignore you. Furthermore, he always riled you up instead of offering you that warm security that Jaemin emanated—
Wait, why were you comparing him to Jaehyun?
“Sorry,” you apologized meekly. “Am I interrupting your practice time?”
“No, it’s cool. We were just messing around in here,” Jaemin replied. “Are you looking for someone?”
You looked into Jaemin’s eyes and your thoughts slowed. He made you feel safe, warm, but that was all; there was no fire, no rage, no heat. It was just a shallow attraction that fizzled out, leaving you neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. And you clawed at your brain as you wondered what you were getting at, but you knew. You knew it was all going back to Jaehyun.
And it pissed you off.
“I was looking for Jaehyun,” you said, “if he happened to be in here.”
“He told me he was going for a swim,” Jaemin said, and that was all you needed.
Before Jaemin could respond, you thanked him and turned on your heel. The pool was in a separate building, and there was no training that even required swimming, so it made no sense for Jaehyun to be there. You let out a frustrated sigh. Even when he wasn’t doing anything in particular to annoy you, it still managed to anger you.
You weren’t going to let Jaehyun do what he wanted this time. This was merely for interrogation—your own personal gain. Then, you thought it over some more, and you reasonably concluded that there was a 97.5% chance that you would not lay a finger on him, but there was a 2.5% chance you’d cave.
When you got to the facility where the pool was, you were entranced by the renovation at first. The pool was massive and the equipment was lined up so neatly along the walls. You peered through the glass to see the pool completely empty save for Jaehyun in the hot tub.
He met your eyes while you opened the door to the pool. His eyebrow arched at your entrance but a smirk settled on his lips as you neared him. You tried to push down your lust; you were not letting him get to you again. You crouched down by the side of the pool and Jaehyun moved so he was facing you, holding onto the edge of the hot tub.
“What brings you here?’ he asked, playfully flicking some water in your direction.
You flinched and scrunched up your nose at his action. “I heard you don’t do hookups.”
“You heard correctly.”
“So what am I?”
“You’re Y/N.”
You were a coward. Admittedly, you had probably always been running away from your own problems, deflecting your feelings with unbridled hate that had no direction, no meaning. Underneath your blunt and fiery front was pure cowardice. Even now, you refused to admit anything to yourself.
You didn’t want to accept that maybe you actually liked Jeong Jaehyun.
Maybe you’ve always liked him.
“Don’t be stupid, Jaehyun,” you grumbled. “You’ve always hated me.”
“I think you just want to believe I hate you. Is that how you suppress your feelings?”
“How long have you liked me for, then? Days?”
You paused for a moment as you recounted your interactions with Jaehyun. It was true that he never explicitly said he hated you and that you always started the arguments, but he was the one who broke off your friendship. Why would he do that if he didn’t hate you?
“You said you wanted nothing to do with me, Jaehyun,” you said in a smaller voice, fist balling at your side.
“You were going to a different university.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, and although you were angry, it was difficult not to enjoy the view. “Plus, you just kept going on and on about Jaemin, and I couldn’t even shut that mouth of yours up back then.”
“So you cut me off?”
“I felt like I was being petty, so I tried to apologize but you blocked my number and wouldn’t let me come near you,” Jaehyun deadpanned. He reached forward and grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You teetered on the balls of your feet, swallowing hard. “Forgive me?”
Jaehyun rose up a little so he was eye-to-eye with you. He smiled at your flustered expression and cupped your cheek with his wet hand. Every muscle in your body was telling you to pull away but you couldn’t. Not when his lips were so close, when his eyes were boring into yours.
“Forgive me,” he repeated in a gentler tone, but it became more of an order than a question.
“Make me,” you whispered and Jaehyun groaned, somewhat helplessly.
“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”
You opened your mouth to say something more, but you couldn’t even form your words as Jaehyun yanked you forward and sealed your lips with a kiss. Before, you had the sense to try and push him away, but now you were held captive. He slid his tongue past your lips and you let out an appreciative whimper, hand sliding into his wet hair. You tugged at his hair and this time, Jaehyun was the one to react.
He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, eyes clouding over with lust. “Get in with me,” he said, voice rumbling. You shivered as he dragged his lips down to your jaw; you could feel his voice reverberate down your spine and to your feet.
“What if someone walks in?” you asked in a daze.
“There’s no use for the swim facility, so no one’s going to walk in on us,” he persuaded. “Come in.”
Water dripped from his neck, landing on your thigh. You took in a sharp breath as his hand tugged at your waist. While the pleading look on his face was priceless, you couldn’t even ridicule him because you were at your limit, too. You let out an irritated sigh when you realized you gave into that 2.5% of you caving.
You responded by pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side where Jaehyun had left his shoes and towel. Jaehyun watched you as you fiddled with the clamp of your bra. Meanwhile, his hands went to the waistband of your sweats, making you shudder as he tugged them down at the sides. You raised your hips to help him get them off and, after removing your bra, you were only left in your underwear to protect you from his hungry gaze.
You weren’t the type to hook up with guys. Hell, you weren’t the type to even show a guy your ankle if he asked. You thought you’d feel insecure with Jaehyun eyeing you in your full glory, but there was none of that. You wanted to know why it was so different with him but maybe it was the way he looked at you like he just wanted to kiss you. Or maybe a tiny part of your heart always belonged to Jaehyun, and you couldn’t bury it anymore.
“You’re so gorgeous.”
He mumbled the words, barely audible, but they set you on fire. He pulled you down onto his lap like you were his anchor, and you were afraid you’d get swept with the current, but you let him. You’ve only ever kissed a few guys before, so you really had no idea what the fuck you were getting into. All you were sure about was that Jaehyun could make you feel good and you were having your first time in a hot tub. You only prayed that you wouldn’t pass out from the pleasure combined with the heat of the water.
“Is this your first time?” he asked, gliding his hands down your sides. You nodded. “Then I’ll be gentle.” Truly, you did find his gesture rather sweet, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. Jaheyun saw and narrowed his brows. “I don’t hate you, but you really piss me off sometimes.”
He kissed you again. It was more passionate this time, but also harsher and messier. You let out a sound that was something between a yelp and a moan, making Jaehyun move his hands to run down your bare back. Then, he planted his thumb on your clit and pressed down in a way that made a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your grip on his shoulders tightened; you weren’t expecting that. It felt different in the water, but somehow, you couldn’t get enough of it.
“You’re wet,” he mumbled against your lips as his fingers found purchase on your slit.
“We’re in the water, you idiot.”
Jaehyun scoffed. “You know what, Y/N, you’re right, I did hate you,” he spat, rubbing small circles around your clit now. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering as his movements grew more intense. “I fucking hated how you looked at Jaemin with those love-struck eyes.”
There was a shift in his usual cocky expression. He turned focused and, to a degree, angry. It was the kind of look on his face you saw when he was on the basketball court or during a game.
“You’re the one who told me to go after him.”
Wrong choice of words. Jaehyun lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the pool, pushing a finger inside you with no warning. You gasped, your mouth open to ask him why he took you out of the water, but you already knew the answer; he wanted to feel you completely.
“R-right there,” you whimpered out as he pushed his finger deeper inside of you.
He started to curl his finger whenever he passed over your g-spot, and you had to close your eyes. Jaehyun pulled his finger out to marvel at the slick wetness that coated it. Your body tingled as he slid his finger inside you again. This time, he was teasing your slit with a second digit. Jaehyun had no delicacy, though, and he all but shoved in a second finger, causing you to cry out.
He didn’t even care. You opened your mouth to call him a bastard, but all that came out was a pitched moan that seemed to float up to the stars.
“I fucking hated,” he rasped as he pumped two fingers inside of you, “how you treated Jaemin like he was the only one in the world.”
“I don’t… like Jaemin,” you got out, each labored breath of yours fighting off another moan. “I’ve stopped liking Jaemin after high school.”
Jaehyun’s free hand went to your chest, cupping one of your breasts as he rubbed circles around your nipple. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unable to contain yourself as the fingers on your clit got almost frantic in their place, and the fingers inside of you were pushing against your walls. You felt an unfamiliar cold fire that felt so fucking good, lighting you up and threatening to spill over. Your muscles clenched and spasmed around Jaehyun, and you weren’t even in the hot tub but you felt like you were sinking.
A high-pitched moan left your lips, leaving you hot with embarrassment because you didn’t know you could make a sound like that. You fell from your peak, relaxing in Jaehyun’s hold; it felt like you were floating amongst the clouds in an almost euphoric way.
“I don’t like Jaemin,” you breathed out, still winded from your orgasm, “you fucking idiot.”
“I know.” Jaehyun pulled his fingers out of you, eyes trained on you as he licked them slowly. The look on his face was more gentle now. With his free hand, he brushed loose strands of your hair out of your face. “You like me now.”
“No, I’ve loved you for a while now.” You didn’t know what possessed you to say what was on your mind, but it surprised you more than it surprised Jaehyun. “I didn’t realize it then but… I think I did.”
Love? Love?
You thought you knew what love was. Something that you felt in your bones, that burst within you instantly. Simple glances, thoughts, and daydreams—something gentle and fluffy, but also emotionally shattering. You thought it was tender smiles, kind words, and little gestures.
But maybe that was the kind of love that led to puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and hoarse voices. The kind of love that was left fruitless with an empty gap in your chest.
Maybe this was different.
It was instinctive, the way you fell for him. Like an effortless intake of breath, you were in love before you even knew it. You always thought love was a monster. Ravaging, scraping, foul monsters with jaws so immeasurably large that they would have swallowed you whole. But maybe it wasn’t the tragedy you made it out to be.
With Jaehyun it was fierce and maddening and made you want to rip your hair out. It was a violent hurricane that you tried to brave your way through. But you were blind. You were already at the eye; you had always been at the center without realizing it. And, despite all the pointless arguments and name-calling, it was the most beautiful thing you had experienced.
Yeah, you liked him. You liked how you were around him, despite how much you complained about it to Mark. Part of you refused to admit it, but sometimes the bickering was fun. You realized that you never let go of Jaehyun before because you couldn’t. You simply didn’t want to be without him because Jeong Jaehyun drove a deeper passion within you.
Your rose-tinted loving moment was ruined as soon as a shit-eating grin spread across Jaehyun’s face.
“You love me.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“You love me,” Jaehyun echoed as if he was internalizing the information. “You love me.”
“I take it back,” you said flatly. “I hate you, I hate you, and I’ve always hated you.”
Jaehyun ignored your words, his cockiness morphing into adoration. “You actually love me back.” He cupped your face in his hands, eyes turning into little crescents as he smiled. “Even though I called you a cougar for liking a guy a year younger than you?”
“Even though I made fun of you wearing a push-up bra in front of him?”
You clenched your jaw. “Yes.”
“Even though I asked Johnny about you and he told me that I still live in your mind, rent-free?”
“What? Johnny said that?” you exclaimed, eyes wide. You grimaced. Johnny would be dealt with later. You placed your hands on Jaehyun’s shoulders and made direct eye contact. “Look, Jaehyun—as much as it hurts me to say this and I’d rather tear out my vocal cords—I like you. I like you so much that I don’t care about the petty shit you pulled when I liked Jaemin because frankly, I don’t care about Jaemin anymore.”
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
You wanted to slap him.
“Are you just constantly horny?” you snapped. “I’m pouring out my feelings to you here!”
“I’m better at expressing my love through actions, not words,” Jaehyun explained. “Can I show you?”
“Is this another ploy to get in my pants?”
“No, I’m asking you out on a date,” he said. “Sneak out with me tonight. I want to explore the city with you.”
The offer was tempting. In fact, you found no reason to be opposed to the idea. After all, you were always down for an adventure in the city. Jaehyun being with you didn’t sound too bad either, especially when Seoul was so lively at night. Part of you wanted it purely to catch up on all the time you missed when you stopped being friends.
“Fine,” you agreed. “An hour after curfew.”
“Great.” Jaehyun flashed a grin that slowly curled into a smirk. “Now let me get in your pants.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Y/N, you see,” Jaehyun started, “I don’t hate you, but you’ve really pissed me off these past two years. We have all of this pent-up rage, so it’s only fair that we let it out on each other.” His grip on your hips tightened.
You loathed yourself for wanting him, and for putting aside the fear of being walked in on for him. You internally cringed at the thought of Mark accidentally bearing witness, and you weren’t sure you were willing to explain the situation to him just yet.
It was the price you paid for carnality, you supposed.
You sighed in a forced way so that you sounded reluctant and bored. Unfortunately, your plan backfired and you ended up feeling bad when a concerned look crossed Jaehyun’s face.
“If you’re worried about getting caught, I’ll just cover you,” Jaehyun mumbled, the softness of his voice almost putting you at ease.
You rolled your eyes. “How kind of you.” You paused and looked up at him. “Are we really going to have sex for the first time here?”
Jaehyun looked around him. “Well, I guess we could go to the hotel room if—”
“Nope!” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. “Let’s do it here. I love the pool, love having sex at the pool.”
He rose a brow at you, hands making their way down your body. Suddenly, your realization of being completely exposed had heightened, and you pressed your thighs together. Maybe it was because your vulnerability showed on your face, clear as day, but Jaehyun smirked, further flustering you by tugging down his swim shorts to reveal his hardened cock.
It was heavy and warm against your thigh, but what you were fixed on was the v-line on his pelvis. You traced along the bone, making him shiver under your touch. You were shocked when he grabbed your wrist tightly, holding it away from him.
“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he growled. Jaehyun leaned closer and nipped at the shell of your earlobe, chuckling as you tensed up under his hold. His hot breath made you squirm under his grip.
Have you ever noticed how insanely attractive he was? Yes, of course. You weren’t an idiot.
Have you ever appreciated his beauty until now? Probably not.
“Just fuck me already, Jae,” you grumbled out as he pushed you down onto the deck of the pool.
In seconds, Jaehyun grabbed your hips and pulled them to his waist. Without any preamble, he rammed himself inside of you. The motion caught you by surprise and you cried out, half out of pleasure and half out of pain. You were definitely wet from being fingered earlier, but two fingers were nothing compared to Jaehyun’s cock.
Seeing his cock disappear in you was enough to make you whimper. Your walls clenched around him, pulsating at the foreign feeling. You were tempted to slap him upside the head for going so fast, but all you could do was tug at his hair and wrap your legs around him.
“You bastard, I’ll fucking—oh.”
Jaehyun laughed cruelly at your reaction, partly to cover up the groan caught in his throat and partly because your attempts at being mad at him were downright pathetic. When you had adjusted to his size, Jaehyun grunted and pounded in you, hitting spots that made your limbs feel like jelly. As if that wasn’t enough, Jaehyun found your clit with the hand that didn’t have a bruising grip on your waist and pressed harshly against it.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Jaehyun gritted out.
“T-then be gentle,” you bargained, drowning in a molten sea.
Jaehyun narrowed his eyes at you. “Have you ever fucking heard of gentle hate sex?” he asked, validating his point with a particularly hard thrust.
Your fingernails dug into his back, leaving hot-white trails down his skin. You were certain you had drawn blood, but knowing Jaehyun, he’d probably feel proud if he saw it. He brought his lips to your neck as you writhed under him, biting around until he found your sweet spot. This wasn’t fair; he was pleasuring you in every way possible and all you could do was cry out as he pummeled in you.
You closed your eyes, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you felt your release rushing to you.
Then, he slowed his strokes down considerably.
“Look at me,” he ordered in a rasp. Your eyes fluttered open, remaining half-lidded as you felt like you were going to spill over. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”
He slapped his hips against yours again, the sound of skin against skin making you shudder. Jaehyun filled you up to the brim and you were oh-so-close to letting go and falling off the edge. The hardscape was cool but you were on fire, bliss overtaking all of your senses. Your toes curled as you held onto his damp skin for dear life, not sure if it was because he was in the pool or he was sweating due to the heat you both emanated.
“R-right there!”  you wailed. “Fuck, right there!”
Jaehyun angled his hips slightly to pound into you, causing you to see metaphysical stars. It was so hard to keep eye contact with him when your eyes just wanted to roll back. Jaehyun let out a groan by your ear, low and guttural. You didn’t even notice how tight the grip he has on you until he releases your hip for you to see the print he left.
You could tell he was close, but he wanted to hold on for you. Both of your breaths were labored as you stared into each other’s eyes, your body moving up and down against the hardscape as Jaehyun railed you. You tightened your grip on him, a pathetic moan falling from your lips as you were falling over the edge.
Jaehyun understood and fucked you through your orgasm, making sure you made the most of it. Warmth blossomed under your skin as you cried out in pure bliss, your vision blurring and refocusing as it flickered from normal to pure white as you rode out your high. You ground yourself back to reality after nearly sobbing out his name, the pleasure overwhelming you. Jaehyun’s eyes went hazy as he fell apart right after you did, and soon, you felt something warm spill inside of you.
Jaehyun finished inside of you and stuttered out a curse as he pulled out of you. He rolled over and laid on the deck of the pool next to you, the both of you catching your breath like you had just run a marathon.
“I have a cute date idea for tonight,” Jaehyun said after a long pause.
You looked over, watching his chest rise and fall. “Yeah?”
“We go to the store and buy Plan B.”
You couldn’t even disagree.
“Sounds good.”
Jaehyun dragged himself off the floor, muttering something along the lines of “shit, that felt good” to himself as he reached for his swim trunks to pull back on. You grabbed a towel to dry yourself off, but pins and needles shot up your legs when you tried to walk. Jaehyun noticed immediately and a smug look settled on his face again, not the least bit remorseful.
You scowled as you slipped your clothes back on. “Shut up,” you jeered. “You’re so shameless for someone who can’t pull out.”
“Oops,” he replied flatly.
“I hate you, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a laugh as he shook his head. He picked up another towel from the chairs by the poolside and wrapped it around so it covered your head. You bit your lip as you watched him attempt to dry your hair. It was times like these when he seemed so gentle and delicate, unlike his usual irritating attitude.
“You liked it, though,” Jaehyun said. “Right?”
You faltered, looking down at your feet as he continued to dry your hair. “Yeah.”
Jaehyun smiled softly and leaned in swiftly to peck your lips, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.
Mark was gaping at you two, eyelids fluttering rapidly as if he was trying to blink away what he had just seen.
“Y/N? Jeong Jaehyun?” Mark questioned, his voice an octave higher than usual. Realization crossed his face through a series of facial expressions that morphed far too quickly for you to process. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Mark!” You and Jaehyun pulled away from each other quickly.
Mark paused to think his words through. “Did I almost walk in on a murder?”
You let out a frustrated groan. “Jesus, Mark, if you’re not going to read the room, at least SparkNote it.”
“Wait, so you were kissing?”
“No, we didn’t kiss,” Jaehyun assured, and you felt tricked for feeling relieved for a split second. “We actually had sex.”
Jaehyun’s words ended with a splutter as you elbowed him in the gut. Mark looked between the two of you, boggled. You nudged Jaehyun again with your foot, signaling for him to leave so you could handle Mark. Thankfully, he took your cue this time and grabbed his towel, mockingly saluting the both of you. You were stupid to think you were safe, though, because Jaehyun had to get another last word in before he walked off.
“See you tonight, Y/N.”
There was a long, awkward pause while Jaehyun opened the door and left the building. You and Mark were staring at each other but neither of you knew what to say or how to approach the subject.
“I just… I just came here to find you, and Jaemin told me you went to the pool. You…” Mark started. He looked absolutely horrified, like a corpse had fallen to his feet—no, rather, he looked like a corpse himself, like someone attempted to do taxidermy on him but did a shit job. “Bitch.”
“Let me explain.”
“Bitch,” Mark enunciated, “you just fucked the hottest guy here, oh my god.”
Definitely not the reaction you were expecting, but you supposed it wasn’t a bad one. You were glad he wasn’t getting into the whole ‘why didn’t you tell me? I’m your best friend’ rant, but this was equally as overwhelming.
Mark continued, “Wait—is that why you were late this morning? Oh my god, this has been a thing. You’ve been hooking up with him in secret, haven’t you?”
“No? Well, yes, but it hasn’t been much until, um”—you gestured awkwardly around you—“you know.”
“So you were the one who was with Jaehyun last night?”
“And this morning before I picked you up?”
“Are you two dating now?”
“Honestly, I really don't know,” you admitted. “Mark, please don’t tell anyone about this. Especially not those little shits, Chenle and Johnny.”
Mark gulped. “About that…”
Before you could question him, there was a chorus of loud clapping echoing from the locker rooms which was then followed by a few cheers. You grimaced as the two boys you didn’t want to see walked out: Chenle and Johnny, Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves. They both wore cocky smirks as they shook their head at you, which made Mark a touch more nervous than he was before.
“Have anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” Chenle teased.
“Go to hell.” You scoffed and turned to Mark, narrowing in on him. “Why’d you bring them along? What are you? The three stooges?”
“We were looking for you so we could invite you to the movie night we were having in Jungwoo’s room!” Mark defended. “I swear, if I knew about you and Jaehyun, I never would’ve brought them along.”
You sighed deeply as Chenle snickered to himself. “Well, I guess Y/N can’t come to movie night since she has a date with—hold on, what did you call him again? The devil?”
“Okay, I get it!” You threw your hands up in defeat, eyes closed to show you were reflecting upon your actions. “I’m a dirty hypocrite and I’ve committed a crime worse than death.” You opened your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” To your surprise, Chenle and Johnny had their right hand up. You stared at it, puzzled. “Do you want me to make an oath or something?”
“In modern society,” Johnny explained, “we call it a high-five.”
It took you a few seconds to process their words before you tentatively gave them each a firm high-five. You blinked up at them before ease washed over you. This was how it always was, anyways. At the end of the day, no matter how much you guys bickered or teased each other, you always made up. That's what friends were for, after all.
“There we go,” you said, oddly satisfied. “For now, I’ll let go of the fact that Johnny snitched on me to Jaehyun behind my back.”
“How dare you!” Johnny gasped. “Chenle was with me.”
Chenle raised his hand to confirm the statement. “Indeed. Please give credit where it's due.”
“Alright, fuck you both.”
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What the fuck even was a date?
This was foreign territory to you, but even so, you decided you wouldn’t rely on your annoying friends. First of all, you were sure they wouldn’t really be of any help and just endlessly tease you about it. Secondly, they were simply going to gradually grow more stressed (Mark), lecherous (Johnny), and aggravating (Chenle). Thus, you decided to slay the monster of first dates yourself.
Your first hurdle was looking cute. You packed absolutely nothing that wasn’t for the training camp, so you had already failed. Jaehyun was going to have to deal with you in your gym shorts and a school t-shirt.
Your second hurdle was sneaking away from Eunha, your roommate. That was a piece of cake considering how she didn’t exactly care. When you headed out of the room, wallet and phone in hand, she wished you a kind farewell, which you returned.
Your third hurdle was sneaking out of the hotel. You weren’t quite sure how you and Jaehyun made it outside without being spotted, but you were certain he must have tipped off some of the staff because there was no way the both of you could have walked straight out of the lobby without being reported. When you asked him, though, he said it was probably because you looked like the cleaning lady.
Needless to say, Jaehyun was on thin ice.
You loved Seoul, loved the dirty of it. Even at night, the city was alive and full of vigor, full of young people like you who were chasing cheap thrills. Jaehyun was a dream under the glowing lights, and you almost couldn’t believe that the prince-like boy was head-over-heels for you.
He took you to a wide alley with a night market, full of life and energy. Jaehyun was walking through the crowd and you were following right behind him, like some awkward fish swimming after a cuter, more popular fish upstream. There were several times where you almost lost yourself in the crowd, and Jaehyun noticed this. He reached behind him, still shouldering his way through the crowd, and grabbed your hand. The smell of spicy rice cakes, the numerous pop-up bars lining the alley, and Jeong Jaehyun gripping your hand—it all made a pretty eventful first date.
Jaehyun didn’t kiss you. Not once. He didn’t try to touch you anywhere that would have tempted you both into doing something you definitely shouldn’t do in public. There were times where Jaehyun turned pink or looked away from you shyly, and you indulged in it because this was a side of him you didn’t see often.
Jaehyun stopped at a convenience store before you both decided to head back. You waited outside for him, kicking stones as you thought of him. He was undeniably perfect, which you somewhat despised because you had spent the last two years hating his guts and this was an abrupt change. You were worried if he was buying you something; he had already bought you lamb skewers and rice cakes at the night market. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend to empty his wallet.
Were you his girlfriend?
“Y/N,” he called when he walked out of the store, holding something behind his back with a sneaky grin. “Close your eyes.”
You bit back a smile and closed your eyes, holding your hands out. He placed the object in your hands and it felt light, so you were sure it shouldn’t have cost much. Although, your stomach was pitted with guilt at the thought of him spending money on you. You opened your eyes when he directed you to.
Plan B One-Step.
You no longer felt bad for him.
“Very romantic,” you observed, putting the packet in your wallet, “but thank you.”
You were seething. Your face grew unconditionally hot and you had to look down at your feet. It seriously pissed you off that your feelings were so clear right now because Jaehyun had bought you fucking Plan B.
Jaehyun seemed to notice right away and tilted your chin up with two fingers, chuckling. “Is something wrong?”
Your face screwed up when you decided on what you were going to ask him. “Are we dating?” you blurted out.
Jaehyun held your face gently like it would shatter if he applied any more pressure. His fingertips grazed the hinge of your jaw while his thumbs rested on your cheekbones. You were panicking when he leaned in, but it wasn’t what you expected. Jaehyun pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, grinning at your reaction. You reached up to trace his dimple with your finger.
“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, flustered beyond imagination, but you had already gotten this far so you continued, “do you?”
“Do I want to be your girlfriend?”
You wanted to hit yourself. “Fuck. I mean, do you wanna date me?”
“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”
He drew you into his warm embrace and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how you hated this man for so long. Of course, when those cocky smirks and impish looks came back, you were sure you’d remember again. But right now, in his arms, you just knew that you wanted to be with him. You looked up at him, arms slung around him, and got on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
You were positive you hadn’t ever seen Jeong Jaehyun blush before tonight, but it was a sight you were sure you could never get sick of.
And you never would.
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baobaojng · a year ago
push and pull (jung jaehyun)
push and pull (jung jaehyun)
jung yoonoh (jaehyun) (idol jaehyun) x (fem! foreigner) reader - idol!au
themes: angst, fluff, smut
summary: you never expected to meet Jaehyun when you study in Korea, let alone fall in love with him. so when you’re faced with the dilemma of the reality of your life - and even more so his, the battle seems difficult to overcome.
notes: kind of established relationship (the timeline’s fucked but haha joke’s on me), reader and jaehyun are honestly super angsty,  unprotected sex (wrap it up in real life to stay safe)
a/n: i wrote this on a whim for the past two days and aaaaaaa enjoy
wordcount: 10,152
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There are two things Jaehyun always clarifies whenever all the guys were huddled around in the practice room.
“Yes, I’m sure nobody saw me sneak out of the dorms last night. I checked.” Jaehyun usually puts a hand up as if he’s exorcising Taeyong, who usually was very concerned about these kinds of things. This was the first thing that he always pointed out, the other guys knowing that Jaehyun probably went out (in the wee hours of the night) the most. Paps could snap photos at any given time in any given situation, and if anyone caught them sneaking out at night - new outlets and gossip sites would probably kill them in the morning with rumors and scandals.
Which brought Jaehyun to the second point, when Mark and Johnny would expectantly cross their arms together in a teasing manner. “And no, Y/N and I aren’t dating.” No matter how many times he said it, they always hoped that he’d finally say you were dating.
After all, majority of the time he snuck out to see you.
This time nobody pressed him for any more questions, especially since he volunteered to order and pay for the Chinese food they were going to eat. An attempt to avert the guys’ attention elsewhere.
Exhausted after dancing the same part of their choreography for the umpteenth time, Jaehyun checks his phone for any notifications. Hoping that somehow you’d have texted him, but texting him first was something you rarely ever did anyway. He didn’t even know why.
Sometimes you wonder if you’ve been imagining things. Being in Korea for the past couple of years to study (which was a real ridiculous decision knowing you were in for learning how to speak Korean and understand foreign culture while in university), having a pretty good paying part time job, and being friends with kpop idols.
It was a pretty fair thing to think at first - out of the millions of possibilities of how, when, and why you were going to somehow meet celebrities you’ve been following and supporting for years.
You met Mark and Johnny first, the two deciding on a break that day and go out to try a quiet café one of their seniors suggested. Just because it was a little bit more hidden, kind of preferential for idols who just wanted to relax in a space that wasn’t the SM building or their dorm.
Becoming a barista was something you always wanted to try out as a side job anyway, having learned some bar tricks from your cousins growing up. It wasn’t so far off from it. The job paid pretty well too, considering the fact that you were a foreigner and that it was really just a side thing for you to earn money so you could live more comfortably. To your luck, the place your former college dorm mate recommended for you to work with was a low-profile café that targeted audiences like Johnny Suh and Mark Lee. You’ve seen some celebrities come in before, but mostly the actor types.
It was a really quick acquaintance established when the two of them got to the café. You looked a little shellshocked to take their orders because you knew exactly who they were, and they found it a little interesting to find someone like you working behind the counter. Mark ordered twice and Johnny went back and forth with the Korean and the English jokes because it was fun to meet someone new in a place that was as pleasant as the café.
They came in almost every three days from then on, making the same order (after Mark tried almost everything off the menu to make sure he had a favorite), sitting on the same place, and leaving on the same time.
Of course your mind drifted off to many places, thinking about how it seemed so normal and casual for them to treat you like an old friend. For the most part you thought of them in the same way, but a little part of you remembered that they were customers (well, celebrities) and you were the lucky part-timer that took took the afternoon shifts after your classes.
Your existence probably didn’t bother them as much as they did you.
Just when you got used to the normal digital noise of people entering: Mark’s obnoxiously loud hollering to greet you and Johnny’s really lame attempt at trying to ‘step up his intercultural humor,’ they came in with somebody new one time around.
“I’m just getting the usual today, Y/N.” Johnny patted at his stomach, as if you understood the odd relationship he had with his stomach - he fondled it very carefully. A tale of self love that disturbed you just a little bit, but now you were expectantly looking at Mark.
“Sheesh, I don’t know man, I’m probably gonna upgrade sizes on my order today. I haven’t eaten since this morning.” Mark complains to Johnny as you take note of that in the touch screen computer.
Jaehyun awkwardly stood there not really knowing what to say, and you couldn’t bring it to yourself to look at him directly either. But you knew who he was anyway, you’ve probably seen so many pictures of him on the internet to know how he looked like and where his mole was on his cheek. Your peripheral vision wasn’t failing you, and it definitely never has in your lifetime.
While the other two were bickering about food portions, Jaehyun cleared his throat out noticing that you’ve been hovering over the computer screen because you were waiting for them to complete their order. Mark and Johnny were comfortable with you, and Jaehyun felt out of place.
“Just a large iced Americano.” Jaehyun asked in Korean, a little slower and a little bit weirder. He noticed how chopped up his syllables were, but only because you were a little too pretty to be taking his order and because he wasn’t sure if you could understand him. His members outright spoke to you in English.
“Have you eaten?” You boldly asked him referring to Johnny and Mark’s debacle on food, assuming he probably wanted something to eat with his drink because that’s how his members ordered.
He became a little flustered, picking up on the impressive Korean accent you had when you responded to him in Korean, the honorifics perfectly done too. In the same instant his stomach grumbled, and he realized that the answer to your question was no - he hadn’t eaten anything all day actually. Even forgot to eat the apple he brought into his and Jungwoo’s room.
“I— uh,” he continuously stammers, his right hand gripping his left shoulder as a mannerism. Obviously he’s a little overwhelmed by the food choices on the menu. You just flash a little smile to him as encouragement, not even directly looking his way. “What’s your favorite?” He asks and it throws you off a little, you wouldn’t have expected him to ask for a recommendation.
You have to look at him now to be a little more respectful, and when you do— god. Jesus, god, Christ. What was it you said about seeing many photos of him online anyway? Nope, wrong. The millions of photos online didn’t do him any justice whatsoever. He was just unreal in the flesh.
“It’s a little embarrassing.” You’re the one flustered, feeling your cheeks heat up because he’s looking right at your eyes. Meeting your bias in your work uniform wasn’t the ideal situation, it made you feel like putty.
“I’ll take that though, whatever it is.” He hands you his black card (which you find out he does because he offered to pay for everyone’s food, and because he wanted to show off to you), and your fingers brush for a split second. A breathy giggle leaves your lips and you ask him to do the necessary things to have the food credited to his card.
“Thank you.” You mumble under your breath before giving his card back, the three deciding to sit where the two would usually sit. You got to making the drinks while your co-worker served their food to them, a little hyped up that the ‘Cherry Bomb’ dudes brought another member this time around. At this you laugh a little, trying to make a clearer working environment for yourself because your first encounter with Jaehyun had you a little bothered.
It was one thing to say that nobody should have fazed you by now, but you felt like a high schooler - weak at the knees and slowly losing confidence. Stealing the shortest of glances over at Jaehyun, catching him look back at you. Although maybe it was just a trick of your imagination.
But you weren’t imagining things, Jaehyun found himself in a brief state of confusion ever since he saw you when he entered not more than fifteen minutes ago. Having crushes was definitely normal, but you had this very inviting feeling about you.
Mark seemed to notice that Jaehyun was completely out of the loop with the dumb topic Johnny offered onto the table, following where his hyung’s eyes flickered to every few seconds.
“Y/N’s cute, huh?” Mark says, but it sounds less like a question than it’s supposed to be. He knows that Jaehyun never really seems interested in meeting other people, it was probably half the fact that Jaehyun maintained an unamused face in whatever circumstance, and this was a rare instance.
Jaehyun knows he’s caught, but he pulls off the realest fake cough he can. “Yeah, she seems cool.” He plays off like it’s nothing and the other two understand what the answer means even beyond what Jaehyun meant. He was interested.
This time when you try to steal a glance, all three of them are looking at you. But you decide to shoot daggers when you make eye contact with Johnny and Mark, knowing like hell they were intimidated by you at this point. You’ve threatened them jokingly countless of times before for making fun of you or making too much noise, but they always were so genuinely scared. You see the way Jaehyun’s dimples appear when he laughs as he sees his members flinch at you squinting your eyes at them.
“Hoobin,” you call over to your co-worker who was just about to serve the food to the three guys you were having an eye battle with, “I’ll take over, I think you should take an early time out today.” It was a bold decision, and thankfully Hoobin didn’t think twice after being bribed with having to work less. There was no room for you to hesitate, and for some reason you felt a little more confident.
After that you take their food over to their table, Johnny inviting you to pull up an extra chair from the unoccupied table behind. Mark tells you to stay more than five minutes because they “miss you” (as if they don’t see you at least twice a week,) which causes Jaehyun to kick him discretely under the table. That afternoon, Jaehyun sits silently as he eats what he presumed to be your favorite thing off of the menu (which he decided has become his new favorite food order as well) - listening to you talk about your life. Details about how you’re doing well in class these days and this part time job not being much of a hassle.
It was a little unnerving, having him be quiet there. You weren’t so sure if he was uninterested or maybe he didn’t care who you were. All that wasn’t supposed to matter, but something in the back of your head told you that your first impressions should matter. Especially when it came to him.
When you leave to greet the guy taking over the night shift, Jaehyun briefly compliments your food choice because he was looking for some sort of way to say good bye and thank you.
“It’s really no problem,” you chime in, “I’m pretty surprised you liked it.”
Well, Jaehyun was too. He wasn’t the kind to really indulge into something, and he had a feeling that he probably liked it because he was more interested in trying to relate to you.
Johnny and Mark end up not shutting up about how he was so lovestruck by you, even when they got home to the dorms.
Since then Jaehyun came by more often, and to his relief he went there alone. At first always just getting a coffee and quietly sitting down where you could see him, and where he could perfectly see you. Sometimes coming in with Mark and Johnny, and the rare occurrence that they dragged along Yuta and Jungwoo (who quickly became your friends, to Jaehyun’s own disappointment - at not being able to articulate any sense of bravery when he saw you.)
But then he got more attentive and took note to arrive five minutes before your shift ended. The first time he did that, he asked you to stay behind to just have a drink with him because you technically weren’t working anyway.
You couldn’t say no, even though you didn’t know what he was asking you to stay for. Only two minutes of awkward silence passed until he took a crack at a lame joke to fill the air, the two of you ending up bursting with laughter just because it was that bad. Somehow, spending the rest of the afternoon up till the evening just discussing all kinds of things with each other. Leaving the details of your personal lives away, but Jaehyun had no intention of not knowing; he took his chance at asking for your number because he liked talking to you. Even if it meant talking about the milk froth the steaming machine created, and how the smell of coffee when he entered the room always soothed him.
You were a bunch of nerves waiting to be spilt out. The idea of hanging out with Jaehyun was fun, but mostly scary.
Being friends with Jaehyun felt a little too much like hiding a secret. Like that time when you got that tattoo and tried to hide it from your mother, scared she’d see when you were too comfortable lazying around the house.
Every time you fell into comfort hanging out with Jaehyun, a voice at the back of your head always reminded you that your relationship wasn’t normal. You had to lay low, be more careful, never a moment where you weren’t vigilant about your surroundings.
Of course it wasn’t normal, definitely not normal for you. There were things you could only plan through words because it meant a lot of risk actually going out to try them in public.
The reality didn’t really bug you that much before; you could say you were content with his company, having so much as prolonged hours with coffee or him going to the cute little studio type apartment you rented near your school’s campus. Now, it was a little bit more bothersome.
Mostly because you swear that it’s the easiest thing in the world— to fall in love with Jaehyun. It was great talking to him, behind what you were used to seeing on camera he’d say things you wouldn’t have thought he’d ever say. Jaehyun had knowledge woven into him in everything he ever mentioned, he tried even in times when he was unsure. There were conquests in his eyes, the way his face would light up in that stupidly handsome dimpled smile. You wanted to try them all, you were sure as hell you wouldn’t hold back if you were given the chance.
But the hard parts of reality always kept you from gambling, from telling him how you felt even though you were sure that he had a good idea of your feelings anyway.
The two of you were having red wine on your living room floor despite the cold of the apartment. He came over about an hour and a half ago, drenched by the rain on his way.
Jaehyun rested his head on the couch, and you notice that his hair is still damp. He’s staring at your ceiling while a sigh leaves his lips.
“You alright?” You ask him, straightening the way you were sitting on the floor.
“Yeah.” He answers anyway, although you know what the fake tone implies. He isn’t.
“Really? You won’t tell me that you aren’t fine?”
It’s not that he doesn’t want to, in fact he’s sure that he always tells you when he feels a little off the rails. Honestly it’s a little hard to trace back the time when he got so comfortable with you, it feels like the two of you just melted into each other’s worlds without ever noticing that you have. Every dumb text and every sneaky hang out.
“I guess I just don’t want to have a heavy conversation with you for once is all.”
You laugh a little, “I don’t care if we both end up screaming and crying, Jae. If you don’t feel good I definitely want to know. How many times will I tell you that it’s much better if you started talking about how you feel?”
Getting rid of that habit was a little hard for him; getting used to always presenting himself on camera as somebody who barely flinched. Somehow it seeped through to who he really was, and it was something that frustrated you when he first talked about this. Bottling up the way he felt just because he thought he needed to be perfect just angered you. You found yourself deeply concerned about him detaching himself with the reality that nobody could ever be perfect, but nobody had to be either.
“I swear this time it’s okay.” His dimples appear in a passive smile, but you playfully shove his arm in response. Careful not to spill any of the wine from his glass to your fluffy grey carpet.
“Liar.” You accuse as you roll your eyes.
To him you look all cute when you’re annoyed. He was going to prolong this for as long as he could; it made a squeezing sensation just between his heart and his lungs. He’d be dumb to say that he didn’t feel anything for you, because he did.
Jaehyun felt a plethora of things.
He felt happy every time he saw you, no matter how rough you claimed to look - even when you admitted you were far too insecure to present yourself to him. Once you called him when you were far out drunk, telling him you believed him to be directly made by God (if there ever was one.) He felt sad when he had to go. When time would have him leave you, because he had this incessant need to be around you for as long as it could. He felt angry too, knowing he wanted to give you so much more. He knew he didn’t just want to be your friend, but what he did for a living prevented him from giving you these things. Possibility of rejection aside, he knew he couldn’t just be around you whenever he wanted and whenever you needed.
“I’ll tell you when I feel like I’ve understood myself.” He promises, admitting you’re right.
That was good enough for you to brush it off; if he didn’t want to talk about it then you wouldn’t press him any further. You weren’t in the mood to put up a fight either, and maybe it was something you wouldn’t understand.
Finishing the wine that filled up half of your glass in one go, you turn to look at him. Not catching how he watched you down the whole thing like a mad man, he tenses because he knows something’s up. You hardly ever shoot down alcohol like that unless you were calming your nerves.
You had something to say, it was the reason why you called him over to hang out in the first place.
“I’m leaving soon.” It’s quick and simple, maybe the one line you chose that delivered the most impact when you were going over how to tell him. You found out you passed the semester a few days ago, and this meant that you had to leave Korea now. A job was already waiting for you in New York - somewhere you always planned on going after you finished up Fashion Design in Seoul. Truth be told, you never expected to pick up friendships— never expected to meet and be as close to Jaehyun when you decided to work in a café. But it became your reality, and the truth of your temporary time in Korea was catching up to you.
“Huh?” He only makes a sound, a little confused when you see his canines just through where his mouth parts. Eyebrows brought together by the lack of context.
“I mean I’m graduating in three weeks, just after other students fix their reconsiderations.” You explain holding in a breath for what you were about to say, even though you’ve practiced it about a hundred times in the mirror, “but after graduation I’m leaving Korea.”
And there it is, the bomb was dropped.
Jaehyun’s mind would like to pretend like he didn’t understand what you just said. In fact he even wanted to play dumb just so you could tell him this was a terrible joke, but you were looking at him the way you always looked at him when you were vulnerable - when you were being completely humanly honest with him.
He doesn’t say anything, not sure how he’ll react. Instead you begin rambling to fill in for the silence, a bad habit you always had. “It’s fine if you don’t want to hang out anymore, I’m not sure how good bye’s are supposed to work,” he doesn’t gloss over what you say, “the possibility of us maintaining this friendship thing is very low anyway.”
“Is that what you think of me? I’d just let go quickly, is that it?” He’s a little hurt; it’s the first time you’ve ever assumed anything of him that actually hurt.
“No,” you shake your head, “but you aren’t the type to forget what life is really like, and who you really are.”
He’s a little burnt, maybe because he knows exactly what you mean. The whole idol thing he got into was consuming. People he used to know were distant, it was even harder to keep up friendships and contact family, they’d meet people all the the time and have them come and go. If anything there was a lot of insecurity and pressure about the way he acted, the way he looked.
He brings his fingertips to scratch over the nape of his head as if he’d be able to claw out answers, or maybe a good response. “Doesn’t mean that I should lose you.” The coarseness of his voice seeps through.
You shrug, sliding your empty wine glass somewhere you wouldn’t knock it over. “People lose other people all the time.”
“You’re really trying to make yourself seem that disposable, aren’t you?” He eyes his glass, the red liquid swirling along with his subtle movements. He can’t find it in himself to look at you, but you’re lucky enough to feel small - not wanting to deal with the scrutiny you were expecting to feel if he did look at you.  If he looked at you now and if he tried to memorize every pore, it would make it feel final.
“Jaehyun,” you use his name, swearing to yourself before that you’d rarely call him this so it would set the tone if you were trying to be serious about something, “I got you into trouble the other day because you snuck out again. No, actually I got you into more trouble than what’s good for you.”
“But I don’t mind that; I’m willing to get in trouble for you even if I get scolded for it.” He admits. For you. Words that probably don’t mean what you think they should, but they do.
“See you’re not so good at thinking about how you also get hurt, Jaehyun. Don’t you think about how hard it’ll be for you if you keep doing that for other people?”
He hisses. “I just told you that I don’t care about that.”
Your legs awkwardly shift around, “but I care about that.”
“If you cared about me enough then you wouldn’t mind it, because you know that spending time with you like this makes me happy.” Jaehyun bites down on his lower lip, suppressing a confession from making it any further off his mouth. “I don’t want to be afraid of losing someone, that isn’t the way to live.”
Compared to how he’s holding back, you can’t just help but take advantage of the wine buzzing through from the back of your eyes to the bridge of your nose. Closing your eyes hoping like the dark will swallow you alive after you say it, you shut them tight.
“I think I love you too much to resist saying no.”
It’s not an instance. It feels like years.
It feels like you’re on a rollercoaster with no safety belt on while you brace yourself for the worst. The plunging silence of all the different memories you’ve associated with Jaehyun. The different scents of expensive perfume he bought, the kind that wouldn’t go away even after he showed up after a work out session. How his ears and his knuckles turned a deep shade of red when it was cold outside, winter season passing you by through worn out coats and you’re lame attempts at teaching him how to wear scarves. His tragic attempts at small talk, never knowing exactly what to say - but always saved by your inability to shut up when faced with anything awkward. The deep honey amber of his voice, each uncomfortable slip of the tongue when he mispronounced things and got embarrassed. Those stupid songs you heard in the background that always somehow reminded him of you from those moments on.
It takes these long seconds for you to prepare to lose him. And maybe it’s what you want; if he decides to reject you know and turn you over like a criminal taken down, maybe it would mean that it would be easier for you to leave him.
The rejection doesn’t come, only the pensive silence of his shock.
He’s still trying to process things. Because you could have said ‘I love you too much as a friend,’ but he also knows you don’t use the word love lightly. In fact you’ve argued about the word multiple times. Accusing him of being too loose with the term. Back then he could easily say that he loved his grey bedsheets, that he loved gardens and clay potted plants. But now, after knowing your perspective on the word, he could only really say he really liked them.
He loves his family, his band members, his cat. He loves his piano, loved his hands. He loves the fans. And he loves you.
It’s his turn to down the rest of his drink, and somehow the last drops taste bitter at the end.  Maybe because the wine had become warm, and his throat’s burning with the words he wants to say.
“Do you love me the way I love you?” Is not exactly how he planned to confess, but you look at him with teary eyes because you don’t need for him to say it twice to know what he means either.
Yes, you think. You loved him to the stars, to where your heart used to cry at sweet nothings of Instagram fan videos of Jaehyun even before you met him. You loved him as a stranger, a fan, an avid fan. You loved him even more now, as a man who breathes air as any other would (which surprised you at first, you thought gods never needed oxygen - but this one did.) You loved him as a real living fixture of bone, skin - imperfections you looked past.
His lips don’t taste like much aside from the wine, the rare instance that he gets you to drink the red kind and you’re doing this. Kissing him past your faintly stained teeth.
But you can feel his warmth, especially now that his hands have lead you to sit on his thighs - calloused fingers tracing back and forth through your jaw like the first time they’ve ever grazed on skin. Your fingers tread along his damp hair, bunching them up similar to how it looks when stylists slick his hair back for him.
Yes. He knows your answer is yes, because he’s never been kissed like this. So much unspoken gentleness, quiet excuses and hushed moans through and through sending goosebumps along his arm. He’s never been kissed in a way that held words. Nobody had ever kissed a confession into his tongue, never with the swirling and nibbling across the lower lip.
He doesn’t think he’s had time to kiss like this either. Jaehyun knows a lot, he’s touched a lot. But always in the quiet of secret, always rushed plans - thinking about how to not get his members into trouble, how not to make a stir in the public eye.
Jaehyun wants to forget the world in your kiss as he finds himself drowning into yours in a matter of a kiss. No— he knew he dipped a toe into the water when you asked him if he ate that day he first met you. And he dove right under all at once when he realized he couldn’t get enough.
Hands are traveling over your waist, your arms wrapping around his neck so delicately. He thinks you are what beauty demands when you two catch your breaths to look at each other, a smile cracking onto your features when you realize how sappy this all is.
“We need to learn how to stop holding back.” You suggest, and his eyes beam at you.
“Honestly we tell ourselves that all the time, we tell other people that way too much too. It’s just that we’re to scared to let go and just do it.” He says in a deep whisper. “So you love me, huh?”
You want to flick the sly look he has on his face, “don’t push it.”
“But you just said we should stop holding back.” He traces the bone of your jaw, just near where it tingles by your ear.
“We might end up saying I love you too much that we might get tired of saying it.” Lame excuses spill from your mouth, things you don’t mean just pop up into your mind because you’re nervous as hell.
By the first week, Jaehyun proves you wrong. Neither of you grow tired of saying I love you, it seems like you can’t go on not saying it at least once every hour. You can’t get enough of skin on skin in every second you’re together.
And it’s sinful as much as it is innocent, rough as it is loving. The first time he goes too far, tugging at the waistband of your cotton shorts - the too big neckline of your sweater exposing collarbones.
His hands recoil, not wanting to rush you into anything. But you find that you don’t mind, if it’s him then there’s no reason to hesitate.
“Take me,” you whisper, his eyes sincerely looking into your own in case he can find any trace of doubt, “take all of me.” His stupidly manly chin clenches along with his jaw.
Love is a whirlwind and you’re leading him to sweet chaos. Lips on lips like every kiss is the first. He hovers above you so gently, only enough weight to press your heart enough. You feel like you’re going to explode.
Clothes are let go like shedding second skin - but with no pain, no pauses.
You are the first to be completely naked, lying beneath him in the warm dim lighting of your lamp. Only his torso is exposed, and you can’t say you haven’t seen the expanse of skin in posts on the internet - but seeing it only inches away from your own heaving chest makes it look so unreal.
On instinct you try to cover your chest with your arms, but Jaehyun gently pulls them apart.
His thumbs slide from your shoulders, reaching the hardened peaks of your nipples. Jaehyun’s touch lingering a little longer at the swell of your breasts, mesmerized by something he’s seen a lot - but only because it’s you.
“You’re making this impossible for me.” The voice he speaks in is ragged, enamored by how your chest also irregularly rises and falls.
“What do you mean?” You pause, but get caught in surprise when his wet tongue licks at your nipple. A gasp leaves your lips and he responds with an innocent smirk.
“It’s enough that you love me,” he plants a kiss at your shoulder blades, “enough that you let me love you,” another one on your right breast, “but you want to give yourself to me like this too?” he nuzzles into your chest. “Y/N, are you even real?”
He asks you like you haven’t already been asking that question for millions and millions of times, but he doesn’t know that.
When you respond with only an ‘I love you,’ he still doesn’t believe you’re real. Even until he inserts a finger into your core, curling them as he watched your tensed muscles relax under his touch. Adding in another finger, his thumb massaging your clit - only your moans and your sighs fill his ears.
You’re every sensation, every taste he wants on his tongue.
“Jaehyun.” You gasp over and over as he pumps in and out, fascinated with what only his hands can do. Although you’re on a cloud in paradise, feeling your nerves tense up with every centimeter of movement.
“Yes baby?” He coos as he feels you twitch, trying to resist the overwhelming sensations he’s providing. Not stopping until he feels your walls tighten and tighten around his fingers, your hips moving uncontrollably. With the pace he’s going, you find yourself cumming already.
“Jaehyun!” Your back arches, and he rubs at your overstimulated mound just to ogle at you. You feel whole when he slips inside of you after your almost limbless feeling attempt at taking off his sweatpants, feeling up every expanse he was setting in. He’s big, bigger than what you would have thought. “Fu– Fuck!” You curse under your breath, hissing at his girth.
“You’re so,” he grunts as he starts to move, but your pussy has a vice like grip and it won’t seem to adjust to his size, “so so good.”
There’s an impossible adjustment in your core, but he hits your sensitive spots just right. He seems to pull out more and plunge in deeper - becoming bolder with movement. You try your best not to close your eyes and look at his pair of diluted brown ones. Jaehyun’s got his mouth in a tight line, a dimple popping out as he tries to contain his grunts. The pace your heart beats is impossibly fast, and you wonder why even now that you’ve given all of yourself he makes you feel this way.
Even through the way he cups his hand over your hair, stealing kisses every chance he can get, quickening his pace until you’re moving the bed - somehow he causes this unbearable fluttering in your chest.
“I love you.” You whisper and he halts, catching you off guard. But he thrusts again, kissing any spot of skin his lips could find at the same time.
“I love you.” He repeats even as he runs out of breath. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” The vowels and consonants blend together until in your state of pleasure, the phrase starts to deconstruct - to make less sense. But your hips are arching into his and your fingers are crumpling at the fine linen sheets.
It would be the second time you were cumming, grabbing onto the taut muscles of his forearms clenching around his cock in your convulsions.
This made him go even faster, filling you up with his cum and softly laying against you. Grunting at the sensations.
That night he cleans the two of you up, wanting to snuggle up next to you for the rest of the night.
It’s in love, being in awe about loving someone you still thought was universes and galaxies away. It’s in love of him, the gentle caresses of lamp light upon his face - shadows of his lashes casting on his cheeks. It’s in love of you, the most unexpected kind of person he found completion in.
Somehow the two of you forget that you’re running out time.
Guilt is still a foreign concept to you.
It’s something you think about when you sneak out of Jaehyun’s dorm room after a night of making love (after kicking Jungwoo out to sleep in Taeyong’s room, of course.)
You stare at his peacefully sleeping figure, his arms lazily fishing out for your body and you silently thank heavens that he reaches out for a pillow and thinks that it’s you. Because you look at him like this, you look at the mess the two of you have made, and you remember the ‘I love you’ he told you tonight and what it truly implied.
For the past few days of this second week, he’s been telling you he’d do anything for you. Before the prospects of time were realized the two of you were blinded:  him by his own selfish denial of wanting to try, and your generous want to wait.
Until you reminded yourself of who you both were. He would never give this life up, you thought thinking about how much he loved what he did. Singing, dancing, performing - being somebody he constantly tried to rebuild and rebuild and rebuild through all the criticism he received. He still loved it; you’d see that shine in his eyes whenever he talked about his job. How he wouldn’t trade it for anything. And you out of all people would know the feeling of loving something you did. And though you’ve thought of the possibility that he would give it all up for you, you didn’t want to make that choice for him.
Imagining him in the future regretting choosing you instead of chasing his dreams.
You think, sure, maybe if you loved someone enough you would consider giving up all your dreams - everything you worked hard for. Being with the person you loved seemed important enough, although you probably wouldn’t say that you were happy to give up the thing you wanted to pursue.
And of course it was different for Jaehyun, it was different by magnitudes.
“I love you, you know that - right?” He asks you by the end of the second week, although he hasn’t been keeping track. His hands are tracing random patterns on your arms as you lay on the couch with you head on his lap.
All the two of you seem to do is talk about love, and deep down he has to admit that it’s his sneaky way of trying to convince himself that you’re always going to be together. Because when you say those three words back to him, the ribbons of skin that creases with your smile tantalize him.
You just nod, too afraid of making him misunderstand you. For all you know he’s ready to jump ship, but you don’t want him to because he has more oceans to explore.
This is your newfound best friend, formerly only really acquainted with: insecurity.
You wonder if you’re the first he’s ever looked this way to. After all, he’s trained to be charming - trained to always look the part of the ‘first love’ persona he has to carry around. You wonder how easy it would be for him if things didn’t work out between the two of you; thousands of girls came pouring onto him anyway.
The feeling made you small, your mind treading through all kinds of green monsters that didn’t actually exist.
It was a little ridiculous, comparing yourself to every other possibility available to him. He could have anyone he wanted. Someone who was prettier, someone who was Korean - maybe they’d understand him better, or an idol - maybe they’d be the perfect combination.
“Fuck.” He whispers into your ear, as he ruts his cock into you. His right hand is tugging at your hair and you’re carelessly panting in pleasure.
You were barely undressed, only covered in one of his very old sweaters. And he wasn’t much naked either, still wearing the hoodie he wore to the studio.
Apparently practice was tiring today, and they got an ear load from the managers about not meeting some kind of quota. You were feeling a little bit annoyed by graduation preparations for the day, so the two of you found yourselves exhausting frustrations onto each other.
Pressed up against his warm white skin like this, you wonder how long you can make this last in your memory.
Convulsing in overstimulation, you choke out some sobs as your hands messily search for something to grab. His thighs, his arms, any inch of him. Like you were grabbing out for something to take with you when you inevitably have to go.
You want to memorize all of him that you can. When he whispers praises into your ear, when he grunts and uses a little bit more force when he cums inside of you. But also when he kisses at the base of your neck when he’s done. When he only wants to cuddle for the rest of the night and talk about all that’s weighing on his chest.
“Baby?” Jaehyun whispers when you stir in his grasp as the two of you cuddle up in bed.
Being honest is not in your cards, but you remember what you told him fifteen days ago about not holding back. And you think that you were an absolutely overly positive liar.
“Yuno.” His name is course when it leaves your lips, and it doesn’t go ignored by him. “How are we going to make this work out?”
Eyebrows knitting together in confusion, he doesn’t let his confusion go unnoticed. “What?”
You offer him some pathetic semblance of a smile as you slide your fingertips slowly on his arm. “I’m still leaving for New York, you know?” You want him to react differently. In fact you want him to get angry or disappointed, you want him to let go of you so that you won’t have to deal with him letting go of himself just to manage a relationship.
But he doesn’t.
“I know.” He kisses at your temple, “actually I’ve been thinking about it.”
“What’s there to think about?”
Jaehyun hums, “just say the word and I’ll drop everything for you.”
You manage to free yourself off of his grasp within seconds, turning to face him in disbelief. “Jaehyun, no,” you plead with him through the look in your eyes, “don’t.”
“Why?” He looks even frustrated, because just like you - this isn’t the reaction he expected.
“I don’t want you to leave this all behind just because of me,” you feel the tears in your eyes form already, “you love this job, even if it’s too much at times. Jae— you were made to be up there with the stars.”
“Babe,” he takes you by surprise by wrapping his arms around you again, thinking it will
stop the tears from falling from your eyes but it only makes it worse because now you’re crying into his chest, “I just love you, okay? It feels like it’s all I’ve known, and I don’t want to see you this way.”
You’re sure his shirt is left damp by your tears, and you cry even harder because of how stupidly in love he is. Maybe he’s as stupidly in love as you are.
You’re probably the most insensitive, most selfish bitch to ever walk the planet.
That’s what you think the day after when you’re at the airport - bawling your eyes out like a child who’s lost their favorite toy. You have so many bags packed up and you leave in an hour.
You texted Jaehyun earlier today and told him you’d be busy until late because of graduation preparations, but that was a huge lie. Actually you decided not to attend the graduation ceremony and just get your diploma sent out. When he told you he loved you last night you knew it was dangerous for the two of you now, so you thought to clear out your apartment with the help of your co-worker Hoobin and and a few other friends - then book the earliest flight to New York that you could. The place hiring you was eager to have you in anyway.
The goal was to make sure you wiped out any trace of yourself, just so Jaehyun wouldn’t be tempted to find you.
Months pass by and you haven’t heard a single from Jaehyun, and truth be told you’ve been trying to avoid everything related to Korean Pop music altogether.
You think that you don’t deserve to hurt, or even miss him. You don’t deserve to yearn for a stupid text or a stupid letter. This is what you wanted. Blocking any form of contact you had with him and the guys and made sure nobody from university gave away your information no matter how much they’d bribe. You checked in once in a while with Hoobin if any of the boys still went to the café, and apparently it was only Johnny and Mark who came around.
No one spoke a word about you, no one ever asked.
Disappearing from the face of the earth like you were some ghost. You were able to do it.
New York was different, a little louder. The structures of buildings were definitely different, but you got used to getting around after a month.
Once in a while you’d go on your usual social media run through and see a video of Mark or Taeyong, and you’d skip as fast as you could in case Jaehyun’s face would appear. They would look different in photos - hair colors changing.
On accident you saw a photo or two of their recent comeback because one of your co-workers was into k-pop and you just couldn’t avoid it.
A picture never hurt anyone, but you learned that it could. You saw Jaehyun again in the photos, this time with hints of green in his locks. The world itself seemed to be turning against you when you’d see him in fashion magazines, as if he was shoving it in your face.
Guilt is no longer a foreign concept to you, and each time you’re reminded of him it hurts you so much.
He looks better lately, you think. Although the bags under his eyes say he hasn’t been well rested, but you aren’t around to tell him to get some sleep anymore. He seems to be working out more, the muscles really making themselves prominent under his favorite black shirts. He’s gotten way more popular individually too, and it’s something you think he’s always deserved anyway.
In your head you try so hard to reduce Jaehyun back into a handsome face popular online in a completely foreign country, maybe if you disassociated your relationship with him it would be easier to cope with having to see his face once in a while when you didn’t mean to.
You hope he’s forgotten about you, you hope he’s not as messed up as you are. In fact, you hope he’s decided to hate you with every fibre of his being. You hope he’s found somebody else who’s a much better fit, someone who can be his best friend and his lover.
Work has been good, great even. You’ve already been offered a few shoots to be in charge of in the Spring editorial of the magazine.
“Hey Y/N, a client specifically called for you last night but you already left so I just gave them your cell. They might be calling soon, is that alright?” The girl at the front desk tells you when you get to work that morning, you just nod quickly because the coffee you picked up on the way to work might spill.
True enough the phone at your desk rings about thirty minutes later.
“This is Y/N Y/L/N, how may I entertain you?” You greet casually, getting rid of the pumps you were wearing on your feet as you relaxed in your office chair.
“Hey, my favorite barista.” The very voice you know as Mark Lee’s is very recognizable, and you’re tempted to hang up but you don’t.
“Hey Mark!” You say, a little too enthusiastically, but he sounds like he doesn’t hate you so maybe this was the right mood to set.
“Don’t ask how I got your office number,” he chuckles, “it was so easy to google search your name because it’s on the homepage of the website for the place you work.” He already reasons out but you laugh it off.
“Yeah it’s fine, it’s comforting to hear an old friend’s voice.” You assure him. “So, you want some clothes done or what?”
He laughs and you try to listen in if there’s background noise, you wonder if he’s in his dorm room alone or if he’s with the other members. “Actually no, not really, but if you still have one of those jackets from your catalog two months ago then can I order one? It was lit.” The word choice is casual, so Mark.
“Oh yeah, just send me over your measurements and I’ll get one custom made.” You take note with one of your post its, “but why else would you call me?”
“You know, Jaehyun hyung.” He clears his throat because you know Mark Lee can’t handle more than three seconds of anything awkward.
You dread this conversation already, “what about him?” You bite your lip like you’re ready to get scolded, but thankfully Mark isn’t like that.
“Look, I know you haven’t heard from us and we haven’t heard from you. None of us know if you’ve moved on with your life, but I’m like sure Jaehyun hyung’s still a walking train wreck about it. We all know that he has no plans to move on.” He admits.
“I’m not doing any better here either.” It’s pretty self-explanatory, and Mark knows it means you still love Jaehyun.
“Yeah, I get that. The two of you are just really dumb you know?” It’s like he finds this a little entertaining.
“Why’s that?” You want to ask him, because you doubt he’s going to give any useful advice.
“Your idea of the best possible scenario is making him leave you behind to pursue his own path, and his idea of the best possible scenario is dropping everything for you and to follow you wherever you are. But hasn’t it occurred to the two of you dumbasses that it will work out if you leave each other be? It only matters if you two love each other even if you’re miles away.” He blurts out in one go and you’re pleasantly surprised, “just call him or call me first when you’re ready. You can trace my number back so just do that if you want to.” He hangs up before you can say anything.
You almost choke on your bagel when you see NCT 127 on morning television the day after Mark called you. Yep, you knew you should have put the cream cheese; this bite was hard to swallow now that you were watching them.
So you rush into work again, same hot coffee in your hands as you make your way up to your office floor. Thank god you could hide in the privacy of the office space you had, working in the company meant that they gave you free space to be able to make clothes and relax.
Except when you get there you find out that your concept of having a safe space was completely destroyed. Safe spaces didn’t exist when the things you were running away from
were chasing you from inside your mind. In this case it was made even worse; the thing (person, to be technically correct about it) you were running away from came in the form of Jeong Jaehyun.
He’s just staring there at you, green highlighted hair and all. Same suede shoes, same black shirt, and same olive green jacket.
“What are you doing here?” You’re choking on words but he still stares at you like how Patrick Verona looked at Kat Stratford in that poem reading scene in 10 Things I Hate About You. A look you’ve never thought a guy would ever give to you - but hey, Jaehyun was. In a bittersweet way, he could play that tole.
“Have you eaten?” He pushes your queries aside but he still looks at you like that.
“I almost asphyxiated on a bagel a while ago, actually.” Because of him, you just add in your mind.
“And now you’re drinking coffee?” He chuckles to himself as his eyes shamelessly scan to more than just your coffee cup, “aren’t you tired of that stuff?” You know he remembers that one time you said you were never going near a coffee bean ever again that one time you were tired from your part time job.
That organ in your chest aches, and when you answer with silence it hurts even more.
Why wasn’t he screaming at you?
Why didn’t he look like he was angry?
Why wasn’t he telling you that you were a heartless bitch?
Why was he just standing there looking at you like the first time?
Coffee cup forgotten as you set it down on your desk, Jaehyun standing there looking frozen. He can feel the shift in your posture too, like the two of you have perfected the art of reading each other’s body language.
“This is the part when you tell me you hate my guts, you know?” Your words are teetering uncomfortably, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of all the goosebumps that line your skin.
“I don’t hate you,” he sighs and you notice that he isn’t even running low on patience, nothing angry nor negative replaces his demeanor. Jaehyun remains to be warm, even as you stand far apart. “Why would I ever hate you?” He asks.
When you find it a little bit hard to breathe Jaehyun continues to speak. “I haven’t seen you in so long and you look a bit different in appearance, but I could never be mad at you. I haven’t heard your voice in months aside from the videos I kept in my phone, but I could never resent you. Y/N, I’m standing right in front of you in New York fucking City and I know I don’t have it in me to think a single negative thing about you. I love you even if you’re difficult like that.” He takes five steps forward, but he’s still about ten steps too far away.
Everything rational about you, everything that tells you that this is a mistake shuts down. You want to dissect every single thing about Jaehyun and make all kinds of most probable assumptions about him, but now you know you’re awfully wrong. Every fear you’ve fabricated in your head is the exact opposite thing Jaehyun would have ever done.
“When you disappeared, I knew where you were. I cried like a loser all the time, but I thought that if this was what you wanted then I’d try my best to give you that. Maybe we jumped on way too quickly when we realized we were in love and we stopped thinking logically, but I had so much time and space to think. This time I’m sure about what I want, and it’s still you.” He finishes, taking ten slow steps toward you.
Now you’re a mess of tear works. What kind of man would hang onto love for so long without being sure if your love had also stayed?
“You’re not supposed to want me anymore.” It sounds like you’re sobbing on your words.
He scoffs, but only because it’s ridiculous how much you want him not to love you. “You’re all I want, you’re all I ever want.” His fingertips find their way to tuck your stray strands of hair behind your ear, and your head tilts to face him - his figure towering against yours. While you’re aware you probably look like a whole mess, he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing his eyes have ever lain on. “You can tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll try to move on, but I know I can’t. Or you can tell me you love me and we can make this work without putting our own lives on hold.” He proposes, and you sniffle.
“Of course I still love you,” you punch softly at his chest, frustrated that he could love you like this, “I could have ended up in the North Pole and I know I’d still love you.” You cry even harder, but he wraps you up tightly in his arms - your head buried in his chest.
You relish in this comfort, the familiar beat of his heart and the warmth he exudes. You feel at home again.
“Don’t leave me again.” He asks of you and you nod quickly.
“God, we’re so stupid.” You mutter, tears are still falling from your eyes but at a slower rate.
“I can’t say it’s stupid if we took the time to learn.” He looks so proud of himself at his attempt to sound wise, but you take your small hands and smooth it over his jaw. Thumb on the dimple that peeks when he smiles down at you.
“I’m sorry.” You tell him, but he nods ever so slightly.
“I understand.” He shushes you by closing the distance between your lips, and your heart feels stuffed.
Flying from New York to Seoul and back again is tiring, but you weren’t complaining.
The stylists that worked with Mark really liked the jacket you made for him (yes, he really did actually order one) and asked where he got it. A few arrangements later and you’ve graduated from a part time working barista, to foreign exchange student in fashion school, to a trusted collaborative designer for the boys’ clothing.
Maybe the greatest acting gig you were ever going to pull off— pretending not to be dating Jaehyun whenever the other staff members were around.
This time the boys were in the office you had in Seoul, getting measurements taken for their comeback outfits. But everyone else was lounging around in the big couches because they were done, so you were left with your boyfriend in the section where you kept your fabrics.
“Stop making my job harder.” You complain as you wrap your measuring tape around Jaehyun’s thighs.
But he smugly lets out a whistle, “you weren’t on your knees when you were measuring the other members’ pant sizes.” He teases, but he’s right - you were on your knees only for him.
To spite him you place your cheek on his thigh to pretend like you were going to do a better job if you switched up your position. “Babe, I know more about your inches than anyone here.”
“Yeah?” He’s excited.
“I even use my mouth so you can slide it in—“
“Woah, guys, language.” Johnny barges in and you immediately pull away and stand up, and Jaehyun’s just as disturbed.
“Yeah we can hear you, you know.” Mark remarks behind Johnny.
“Well then can you please warn us that we’re audible before I make innuendos about sucking off my boyfriend?” You cross your arms at the two boys who just came in, chuckling to themselves.
Jaehyun rests his chin on your shoulders from behind you, wrapping his arms upon your own.
“We made this union happen.” Mark argues, and you continue to send daggers through your eyes.
Jaehyun kisses at your cheek and Johnny and Mark make sounds of disgust, enough to make them scramble away when you kiss Jaehyun’s cheeks back.
The two of you laugh, catching each other’s eyes when you get lost at your close proximity.
“I love you.” You both accidentally say at the same time.
And like always, you pull each other in.
5K notes · View notes
wincore · a year ago
runway (m) | jung yoonoh
pairing: model!jaehyun x fashion designer!reader
words: 18.7k
summary: there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts. 
genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, light smut, comedy-ish
warnings: sexual content, mentions of anxiety
a/n: woohooooooo she’s finally here!!!! i cant believe this!! everything aside, i do not have first hand experience working in the fashion industry so please do take this with a grain of salt. i’m also going to pass out. good night <3
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A list of things you appreciate: colours, satin, comfort.
A list of things you do not appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.
The hum of the car engine has little effect on you; you travel like this almost every day. Tall buildings, scorching pavement, the blare of traffic—it’s Seoul, after all. You sigh, more of a short expression of annoyance, scrolling down with your thumb and back up again. Since when did he get permission to post pictures from pre-fittings? And one of your works, no less. 
His feed is so messy. You click your tongue. For a model, that is. 
You open the story again and consider messaging him. It’s your cherry red coat, or rather the collar of it, golden thread sewn in swirls of patterns, and a sheer floral shirt extending all the way up to cover Jaehyun’s neck. You frown. It’s meant for showcase, not teasers. Even if the picture extends just from the curve of his shoulder to his parted lips, you can’t stand the sight of it on him. It’s not bias, you try to tell yourself. This is business. You tap your fingertips rapidly against the back of your phone. This is obviously business. 
Seoul Fashion Week is the height of your anxiety, which means you have little regard for anything else decorated around you. With a new frenzy arising in every minute of your day—you don’t have time to think, a sense of madness in the way you keep busy. Your Elixir collection is more than what you had hoped for it to be, a twinge of satisfaction sitting at the pit of your stomach. It nicely puts together everything rich and extravagant, humanity’s first love—everything you despise really, so Jaehyun wasn’t a bad choice for a model. 
You backspace on your text. Is this rude? Should you care if you’re being rude? How unprofessional, you imagine his voice saying. It wouldn’t be the first unprofessional thing you’d done.
The final text reads ‘Glad you’re enjoying my designs, but they were not meant to be publicly displayed before the official show, as common sense predicts.’ 
No, of course you’re not trying to be snarky. It’s perfectly formal. All that time writing professional complaint letters to companies for ripping off your designs paid off, you suppose.
You exit the Uber, thanking the driver quickly before you rush into the building, checking the time on your watch. It’s sunny, and hotter than you anticipated. You can only hope it’s cooler tomorrow so the heat doesn’t suffocate your models.
The company building is another madness in its own. Joohyun greets you with a quick smile, a bunch of fabrics being handed to her before she can make any conversation with you, and the rest of the workers bow in greeting before getting back to their own individual windstorms. You step over a few boxes on the grounds, beelining to your workspace so you can settle down your bag.
You’re team leader, you tell yourself, a short breath tumbling out of your mouth. Even so, you don’t do very well under several pairs of eyes on you at once. Some part of you is still the timid fashion designer, packing your entire identity into a small sketchbook.
The sunlight is blaring out of control in the place—it’s meant to be spacious and sunlit, of course, but the heat makes you adjust your collar before you can move forward. The bustle of the style and design team along with the production team in the same place is akin to a nightmare, and you trace your steps quickly.
“Guys,” you begin, fidgeting with the leather strap of your watch as you continue, “Firstly, good job.”
There’s a bunch of short cheers and clapping to interrupt before you can continue. 
“As for tomorrow…stylists, I need you to touch up the collars in all the Western-style coats. The detailing needs to be kept clean and sharp. I want the audience to be able to see it.”
You pause, your tone still neutral. “And let’s not start again on the lacing. We had that discussion yesterday.” 
There’s some nods and sounds of affirmation. 
“Production team…I don’t think I can say much to you without Doyoung getting on my case.”
There’s collective laughter and you crack a smile. With a few more rapid words, you dismiss yourself, walking over to your colleagues to help them out. You’re team leader, the one with the final say in all the designs, but you can’t possibly imagine completing it without Joohyun or the others. 
“Good pep talk there, (name),” Joohyun says, walking over to you as her hands sharp and steady as they go through the clothes rack. 
“They think I’m an asshole,” you say, breathing out. You know your words are too direct. Drunk co-workers on a Friday night are not the best place to discover facts about yourself. Sometimes even you think you sound bossy. You check the key parts for each item, knowing you’ll be doing this once again before the show.
“We wouldn’t be going anywhere without direction,” Joohyun responds, laughing as if you’d said something silly. “We’re all glad you’re here, (name).”
Words like these are so easing for a mess like you, not that you’d admit it. Joohyun has always been a sort of mother figure to you after you entered this company, followed by Doyoung. A good few years senior to you, she started out as a model before she moved on to designing. 
It’s her last year working in this place. But of course, it’s a given when she’s starting her own label (mom clothes and children’s apparel, she’d called her clothing line, rolling her eyes) and one of the most well-known names in South Korean fashion not having her own label is sacrilege (according to your colleagues anyway). She’d said to contact her when you start your own family, and maybe she’ll send a congratulations package for both you and your baby. You’d laughed. Out of all the insults you could ever receive, that was perhaps the loveliest one.
Ridiculousness aside, you’ll miss the comfort of her presence. You were still in school when your designs led you to a showcase in New York Fashion Week, your sponsor more than generous. You stepped into it too soon, too eager. It was breath-taking and awful all at once—and the first time you saw a world outside of your own. It was overwhelming. There are few people in this new world as kind as Joohyun.
The sound of your notification snaps you out of your thoughts. You swear you kept it on vibrate, a little irked at having to search for your phone when your hands are full. The notification itself brings on a stronger wave of vexation.
My manager told me it was good publicity
But I could take it down for you
The ‘for you’ adds an unnecessary effect, you think as you hold back a scowl. And what does ‘could’ mean? A miscommunication with the sales team isn’t even on the list of things you need to worry about. Honestly, you don’t have time to fight him, quickly typing out a ‘whatever. it’s okay’ before looking back up.
You jump, the look on Joohyun’s face a little suspicious for what might come out of her mouth.
“It’s not a crime to text people.” She shrugs, shuffling through the rack one more time to take the clothes for transportation. 
You’re quick to jump to your defence. “I have nothing to do with him.”
Joohyun looks at you, amused. “He’s not a bad person, you know? How long are you going to keep hating him for one thing he did?”
“It’s not one thing,” you groan, averting your gaze to the clothes so as to help her. “I just- he’s so- so- oh come on. You know how I feel about him.”
“I’m just saying you don’t have any reason to. Everyone’s different from what they appear to be. Especially in this line of work.” Joohyun balances the clothes you give her across her forearms.
“So he’s fake. I hate that even more.” You sigh, pulling out the blue silk overcoat, the colour matching Joohyun’s work dress.
“You mean unreal? Models tend to be that way—don’t be so harsh on him, honey.”
You simply shake your head, words entering one ear and out the other. Joohyun presses her lips into a line but lets it go soon enough. She knows you’re capable enough to separate professional from personal and that should be enough. You’re not keeping a tab on something as warming as spite. 
You can’t believe you’d ever been within five feet of him without turning your nose. You can’t believe you’d smiled at his jokes once, even if it was just that one night. He was the godsent Prince Charming, just perhaps not yours. Paris surely had a distressing effect on you that year. 
You don’t make the same mistake twice.
You walk back to your desk to take a seat and scavenge through your belongings, most of the people already outside. Fashion Week, which once upon a time was a faraway dream, now is part of life—exciting and exhausting. It’s almost always over in a flash, your love for it whisked in peaks of bittersweet. (“You work your ass off for six months and it’s, what, fifteen minutes long?” your mother had asked after you’d brought her to one of the shows.)
This line of work is a nightmare without mental preparation. You have a degree, you have experience and yet it doesn’t feel enough, confidence easier to drain in a person than blood. And you’re not very fond of pale cheeks.
It came to asking yourself if you really have it in you for a few months—a test of sorts everyone puts themselves through at least once in their lives. At that time, your favourite professor, a bald man nearing his retirement years with the wrinkliest face you’d ever seen, had asked you just one question. 
Do you love it? 
Of course you fucking do. 
You couldn’t say that to his face, sure, but you know he saw it in you—either the effort you put out every day of the semester or the way your hands moved across fabric like a machine, your designs made with the persistence of nature. Your final year project landed you an internship at one of the largest clothing brands in Seoul and your internship landed you a job at the same. Your job, well, lead you to Jaehyun, among many other things. 
You scowl at the image of his face that appears when you close your eyes, massaging your forehead—it’s hard to not see it everywhere already, from Cosmopolitan to Vogue.
While you were biting your nails in New York, Jaehyun had flown out to Paris with Saint Laurent, one of the younger male models to show his face for the first time. He’d taken the whole place by storm, you had heard from a friend. To say half the world had fallen in love—either with his dimples or his confident walk—would be an understatement. A privilege, to be gold-plated in a mercenary world.
You’d briefly made eye contact at the airport the first time you saw him, a year later, when you were arriving in Incheon and he was leaving it. It was London, that time. For him, Milan. As much as you couldn’t believe living a fashion student’s dream, Jaehyun’s face was truly, unironically much more unrealistic. Your classmates’ gabs and gossip in sewing class had suddenly made sense. You taught yourself to not be swayed by faces, even if they look like they’re stitched together by Aphrodite and Apollo with their bare hands—friendly advice from seniors at the orientation night ‘party’. 
You’d met him formally in Paris, after you’d graduated from fashion school. He was certainly the most beautiful face in the room—and you weren’t the only one aware of it. The entire night you’d been starting conversations you couldn’t relate to, till he came along with his charming dimples and a faux connect. You were naive, and a little tipsy. The attraction was obvious, and it had been you by the bathroom pulling him in for a drunk kiss till he’d snapped out of the daze—as if it were some joke you’d been playing. He’d apologized before leaving, like it wasn’t a big deal, with silken lips parted in a gesture of remorse and a short, firm bow. It didn’t settle very well alongside the merlot in your gut.
You. You’re a big deal. 
You were alone in a room full of painted faces and he sat atop the throne they worshipped. Why had you expected any more from him—in the understanding nods or the few kind words that escaped his lips? You felt stupid. He made you feel like smiling for the first time that night and you hated him for it—you’re sure he doesn’t care either way. Or maybe he does, with the wonderfully irked responses he graces you with. 
Jaehyun made something out of himself in these nine years, just as you have. Runway supermodel to the face of South Korean men in fashion to an entrepreneur, he might as well have a documentary on him—and he would if he didn’t evade paparazzi and reporters like his life depended on it. Enigmatic, the articles wrote. You scoffed. Conceited, more like. After the initial years, he decided to settle in New York, frequently flying to Seoul and other fashion capitals for business and contractual events. Some of those occasionally include your shows.
Having Jaehyun gets more attention but it’s not like you’re a new, doe-eyed kid. Your works have been featured for popstars and foreign celebrities, and you’ve been invited to several interviews with big magazines. You’ve gone global (albeit under the brand’s name) and you’ve been to places you’d only seen pictures of in the very same magazines you looked up to. They can describe your work as unique all they want—and you don’t mean to sound fucking pretentious—but your job is nothing more than an expression of the self. It’s a part of you; you first started sewing patches onto things simply because your closet lacked colour. And eventually, you found yourself searching for more—colours, fabrics, dreams. You’re devoted to your job because you love it, you want to do it. You’re allowed to be a little arrogant about it. 
If only trying desperately to be arrogant did something about your insecurities.
You hope your works redefine themes, your need to stand out contrasting with your fear of it. Eye-catching is always your forte; this time it’s fairy tales and royalty in a mix of East meets West. 
D-1. Same feeling, new season.
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The press is here, you take note. Photographers. Models. Students. Vloggers. It’s a burst of colours down there.
You hate running late, rushing down the stairs to the plaza through the crowds of people. Some recognize you, as they make their way to you but you end up walking a little faster to minimize your presence.  You curse yourself for wearing the jacket. It goes nicely with the rest of your outfit and March isn’t supposed to be this hot. You wipe the sweat from your hairline, hoping the makeup is waterproof like it said.
You consider stopping at the café for a fix of coffee but stop when you notice Joohyun holding a bunch of cups by the venue. She doesn’t look too happy about the sun, or the burdening errand of fetching coffee. You adjust her little red beret at her request, smiling at her annoyance but trying your best to keep it hidden. You don’t want to get cussed out by Joohyun. 
“Someone tell Doyoung to get his coffee,” Joohyun complains. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour.”
“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” you say, sipping your coffee. The taste fills your senses with a pleasant dose of energy and you hum out a satisfied note. “Why are there so many students out here? Influencers? Did we sponsor this many kids?” 
Joohyun shakes her head.  “Jaehyun just got here.”
You suppress an eye-roll. “Wonder why he still comes back for Seoul when he’s booked full for New York.”
“It’s his hometown.” Joohyun shrugs. “I’d come back too. Even if I’m paid more out there.”
You finish your coffee and duck into the fitting room, much to Joohyun’s displeasure as she’s left alone again. Doyoung’s in for an earful, you chuckle thinking about it.
It would look like a hell of a mess to anyone not accustomed to this. Everyone is a flurry by themselves alone but if you mix them with the eclectic crowd you find at a Seoul Fashion Week backstage, it’s more of a disaster. A colorful one, at the very least. 
New York was worse. You were too young, in a world that was too big. It’s a miracle you even received an opportunity from so big a name. But, you suppose, it hardly matters now.
You no longer live in a world where Seoul is far from Paris. Fashion and art are things unmarked by place of origin.
It’s easy to spot Jaehyun in a corner, two people adjusting his coat for better fitting at the waist. His makeup’s done, you notice as you get closer. Good, you think. If any makeup were to get on the fabric, you’d go feral (although you do have full confidence in the makeup artists here and their choice of product).
“Jaehyun,” you greet. Your co-workers give each other a look before excusing themselves. You raise an eyebrow, too late to stop them. They didn’t finish the looping of the belt properly, you take notice. You wrinkle your nose. Sloppy. 
“(name).” He responds with an equal lack of amusement. 
You pull the belt at his waist, Jaehyun stiffening at the contact.
“What are you doing?” he asks, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.
“My job? What do you think, genius?”
Jaehyun presses his lips together and lets you complete the altercations. The chiffon shirt allows you to see the hazed definition of his core, a rather flustering thing to be exposed to for anyone with eyes. When you look up in a moment’s mistake, you’re reminded of why his face is everywhere. Flawless, almost. You hate it. Averting your eyes, you fix the collar so the pattern stands out more. You can feel his eyes over your outstretched hand all the way to your face, subtle as ever. If Jaehyun thinks you’re bothered by it, he’s an idiot for believing so. 
You take a step back to analyse the coat. The golden threads are flawlessly detailed, spiraling in patterns of different flowers and vines around the collar, gradually getting larger as they twine at the base of the neck. They meet the polished rhinestone buttons a little lower. You almost smile. You’d sewn each thread and each button in yourself the first time. It hardly looks the same now.
Bright red is an eyesore if you look at it longer than five minutes, you realize. The frown that’s been itching to show up finally does. Suddenly, you’re glad Jaehyun is modelling this piece. You shake your head and look back at his face, from his deep-set brown eyes to his full, tinted lips before pausing. The little Swarovski pearls line strands of his hair in a starry display, perfect in every angle of it. It’s easy to appreciate the human beauty when you see his face, and even if you claim your vehement dislike for him, you’re not a liar nor an idiot. 
How infuriating it is, to let things be. Bad blood can only dry to an ugly, unusable brown.
You narrow your eyes at the thinning layer of glitter on his peach-blushed cheeks. He doesn’t exactly need much more of it but the unevenness bothers you.
“Your makeup needs retouching,” you say, frowning. “Did you touch your face? I thought you were a more...professional model than this, Jaehyun.”
“You walked in,” he replies, casually. “I was distracted.”
You feel your cheeks colour. “That’s- that’s not a reason.”
He smiles politely. “I suppose I’ll leave you then. You must have other work to do.”
You hold back a biting remark. His playfulness doesn’t sit well with you; he’s polite just enough to annoy you and straightforward just enough to make you want to throw something at him. He could’ve directly told you to fuck off maybe—but oh no, it’s Jung Yoonoh, seamless and radiant, with only the sweetest collection of words on his tongue. You think of the first time you met, something warm in the corner of your heart. You’d mistaken it, of course. 
He didn’t care for you, or any of the people trailing after him and his silver flute, or the rest of the shallow carcass of a world so undeniably obsessed with him. It didn’t hit you till he’d left you hanging, mangled memories of something close to hurt. You’re glad you didn’t kiss him. You wouldn’t be able to get over the embarrassment, the blow to your pride had it escalated any further.
And of course, the one thing he did to make you absolutely certain of his distaste—was simply choose another designer’s work over yours when given a choice. It seems silly, unprofessional even, but the lack of response to your Fall/Winter ready-to-wear collection had been embarrassingly low, someone else’s designs sold out at an equally awful rate. You—your insecurities—wanted to blame your own failings—maybe it was the lining of the coats, or the colours maybe— the fabric? Perhaps, you hadn’t focused on comfort all too well. But it was clear, a word from Jung Yoonoh could change the minds of a fashion-forward youth as easily as his face and physique scored contracts with the biggest brands and labels. And it was clear he didn’t like you very much.
You walk over to the other models, eyes scanning down to the T. You glance over one of Joohyun’s designs, a modern men’s hanbok. The blood red paired with yellow is certainly easing on the eyes, though the shades vary from top to bottom, like a sunset. The dark grey chunky shoes fitted under dark tights complete the entire future oriental look you suppose she was going for. She’s only showcasing two of her designs this year and they’re just before the centrepiece. You shake your head, clutching the fabric of your jacket sleeve. You hate seeing other designs before a showcase, even if they’re a friend’s. 
You turn your head to make eye contact with Jaehyun across the room. It takes a few seconds but you snap your head in another direction to break the spell. 
How strange. You haven’t had nearly enough coffee to feel jittery under his gaze.
You’re forced to take a breather away from this jungle of liveliness. 
The amount of people outside the venue gives you yet another headache. Excited college students and fashion vloggers stand outside expectantly, and you give a short bow and polite ‘hello’ to anyone who approaches. You desperately want to be left alone. Even if it’s for a few seconds.
You walk quickly, your feet soundless against the floor. Your mask performs considerably (and surprisingly) well in hiding you. You consider visiting the Design Market to enjoy a seat alone and charge your phone before it’s show time.
Open spaces. You need open spaces. Suddenly, the DDP seems to be suffocating you despite its tremendous size.
“Hey!” You’re greeted with a sudden force to your right side, an arm wrapping around you. You look up to see Johnny, a wide grin on his face and you let yourself mirror it, shaking your head.
“Big day,” he says. “Want me to take some pictures? I’ve got some time between shows—lovely outfit, as usual.”
It’s strange how Johnny’s the photographer and not the model—you’ve heard he receives a lot of requests to get on the other side of the camera though he always refuses. He doesn’t visit Seoul as often, but he has much to do in uplifting the mood with his strangely effective sense of humour. The coffee-coloured shirt he’s wearing goes well with the plaid grey coat, reminiscent of Fendi’s Spring collection, and sometimes you wonder whether a job as a fashion photographer ever had much to do with his style. Johnny has always been effortlessly impressive. 
You politely decline, your mind still focused on the smooth running of things. Nothing’s ever on time when it comes to Fashion Weeks—yes, it’s called fashionably late but it just makes you annoyed. You consider ducking back to your venue, adding some final final touches and any more last-minute altercations. Years have passed and you’re still not used to it, fingers itching to do something about everything. You’re grateful the company gives you your creative space but it only makes you wonder just how far the limits are. 
Johnny accompanies you to the charging station till he’s distracted by some of the children in the latest Fendi kidswear and you make a mental note to never bring your kids to Fashion Week, if you ever choose to have them.
You breathe in and out for a few moments, feeling lightheaded before the sense of reality touches on you. People walk in and out of the stores lining the pathways, a soft buzz of conversation in the air as your eyes follow their movement. You wonder if you’ll have your own stores opened in plazas like this—here, in Seoul, and on brightly lit streets of the world outside. After all, colourful dreams are the hardest to get rid of. You sit quietly till you get a text from Doyoung asking you to get your ass over there quickly with several exclamation marks. You smile to yourself. Joohyun might have had a sour effect on him.
You arrive back at the venue, trying to tear your eyes away from anything that might want to make you fix it. You avoid Jaehyun’s eyes even more so, like you’ll jinx something right before it’s showtime. 
The buzzing reaches a peak before everything is drowned out.
The show finally starts. And it’s over. Twenty-two minutes, this time.
That’s the way it goes. You hold your breath till you’re sure it’s safe to let go, blind to everything that goes on in between. Sometimes it’s underwhelming, sometimes you can’t give a fuck when you love doing this anyway.
You breathe a sigh of joy when everyone gathers backstage, Johnny making all the models pose together for one giant group photo. It’s like a ritual for him, always finding time for a backstage picture with the models goofing off.
Jaehyun looks at you instead of the camera, a nervous shiver running through you. His gaze is not something of inconsequence, eyes piercing into you with words hanging in the air that you don’t care enough about. You think he sends you a smile, cockier than you’d like. Despite your efforts, you have to look away.
Now, what should your dear Fall collection look like? You exit by yourself, relief humming through your veins when you think of getting back to your apartment, papers to be sketched on in your hands, soft fabric to be sewn on your table. Maybe they’ll display your works in the front rows of the stores, maybe you’ll even have displays outside of Seoul. You’re not a student anymore and your job has taken you enough places. 
Even so, Paris and Milan sneak into your dreams often. You used to dream of them so much that it was hard to consider them reality—finding yourself in those streets, in between all those beautiful picture-book monuments.
You prefer Seoul, you decide after conscious thinking. You don’t have to worry about the world outside. 
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Afterparties are not your thing. 
You somehow still find yourself in them, hoping to catch a drunk video of Doyoung for blackmail or make eye contact with an attractive stranger only to stop at exchanging numbers because you never find the time. 
It’s a social event. You’re supposed to be doing social things. It’s exhausting.
The last person you expect to bump into is Jaehyun, drinks in hand as he looks down at you with a greeting of surprise on his tongue. He’s wearing a simple dark Oxford button-down, two buttons at his chest undone, and tucked neatly into his pants. His hair looks untouched since afternoon, parted in messy waves, minus the pearls. The music changes to something with slower beats as you stare at each other for a few moments.
“What are you doing here?” You raise an eyebrow. There are other afterparties he could be attending. Big ones.
Jaehyun tilts his head, cracking his neck before smiling. “Charming, as always. I’m here because I want to be here, obviously. So does everyone, I’m sure.” 
“Fucking narcissist,” you mutter to yourself. You think Jaehyun might have heard you because you get a dirty look thrown your way, masked with the signature apathy across his relaxed lips.
“That’s a little rich from you,” he mumbles.
The muscle by his mouth twitches but he doesn’t say anything more. This is probably the most emotion he shows, you think. Wouldn’t his lovestruck magazines relish seeing him riled up like this? They’d still find a way to fall in love with him.
You could have, too.
No way. You tell yourself that’s ridiculous. 
You’re aware he’s booked for at least three other shows this week. It’s a miracle he agreed to yours, considering your mutual distaste for each other. You suppose it had more to do with his agency than himself but it wasn’t like you were the keener one. Jung Yoonoh is the face professionals look for and your company loves the publicity, although you keep telling yourself your designs would still shine without him. 
Jaehyun excuses himself before you can get on with any unpleasant conversation you might have. At least you have something in common—that is, trying to avoid each other as much as possible.
A few minutes (and uncomfortably snaking through swarms of bodies) later, you find Doyoung, unfortunately sober and intending to remain so, people congratulating him with claps on the back for securing the position of PR Head. You think it was supposed to be a secret, but someone higher in the ladder must have spilled early. Joohyun never attends these, and honestly, good for her. 
Afterparties are not your thing.
You shouldn’t have taken those shots but you’re on the dance floor now anyway—what more could happen? It’s easier when you’re not paranoid about all the eyes on you, dancing against a stranger with a lion tattooed against his neck. Maybe you’ll go home with him, maybe you’ll leave at the first signs of attraction. Romance isn’t quite on your to-do list, but an occasional intoxication with the skin works just fine. You could live like this for a few moments.
Your back runs into someone else’s rather forcefully and you turn around, apology bubbled up to your tongue already, mixing with the alcohol.
“Oh look.” You roll your eyes. “It’s the prince of high fashion. What can I get you today, sire?”
Jaehyun drives his tongue over his lips, quite definitely over your antics. Soft breaths leave his mouth in a rhythm irrelevant to this box of laughter and blaring music called a party. You love how he never knows how to respond—what new words will he choose to keep false dignity? If you think about it, he’s the embodiment of why you always thought everything was so out of your reach—big names, exclusive parties, not for kids like you. They were never for fashion students too honest to know their own worth.
“Jealousy isn’t a good colour on you,” he says, just loud enough for you to hear.
You scoff, a pang of annoyance sizzling through you. “Jealous? Of who? You?”
You sneer at the last part, Jaehyun’s frown deepening. Some days you just like to think you’ve won. A few moments pass between you two, the sound of pop music filling in the gaps. 
Jaehyun presses closer to you, your chests almost touching as your breath hitches in your throat.
“Do you know what makes success?” he says, head dipping lower to look you in the eye. The smell of alcohol disturbs you for a second before your heartbeat gets loud enough to drown it. You try to not focus on how his mouth is so near yours—and perhaps if you were drunk enough, you might commit a mistake against the very core of your being, something you’d been dangerously close to once.
You stay quiet, the pulsing in your ears too loud in the shallow distance between the two of you. You swear it’s always the two of you pressed up like this once you’re drunk enough, the dislike growing stronger and stronger with every breath exchanged. You’ve intertwined each other into a strange garden of contempt, easy to forget when you're facing him. Jung Yoonoh has the prettiest face in the industry, and the only one you can’t bear seeing. 
“It’s confidence,” he answers, as slow and steady as ever. “And there’s a thin line between confidence and arrogance I intend to keep. I’m not so sure about you.”
The rest of the night passes without conflict and you retire early, Jaehyun’s breath still hot against your face. Only when you collapse on your bed do you get an urge to shout, yell, anything that doesn’t make you call him up and scream at him. You have your precious dignity too, something he seems to look past. The effect he had on your breathing, the crawling over your skin—God, you hate him. You’re too stubborn to not continue doing it.
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“What’s this?” you ask, your eyes darting in between the director of design and Lee Taeyong.
To say you were surprised to see him would be an understatement. You note the simple dark rimmed glasses in contrast with his light dyed hair, the mellow blue of his cashmere sweater sporting his own label’s logo—Lee Taeyong is a household name. You feel yourself shrink the tiniest bit.
This industry’s all about names, you think miserably. You meet people and you remember the ones who can get you ahead. It’s tiring.
Taeyong started his career even earlier than you did, and before he had changed his major to fashion. He’s a little older than you, though he doesn’t look it and he had begun with working exclusively on jackets. Several rejected designs later, he had popped up as one of the designers to look out for in Seoul Fashion Week. Now he has his own global label slowly turning brand, several worldwide stores and everything dreamers in the same place as you look up to. You think you’re fine here, you tell yourself despite that.
The director smiles at you, her hand gesturing rapidly at you to come forward.
“You’re going to be so happy,” she says, signalling Taeyong to continue.
“Uh, hi,” he greets.
A little awkward for a world-class designer, you think.
“I’m Lee Taeyong. You might have heard of me—”
“I know who you are,” you interrupt, ignoring the disapproving look of the director.
“Oh, that’s good!” He smiles. “I’ve seen your work—I’ve been following your work for a few years now…and, well, I’d love for you to work under my label—in a collaboration of sorts. You’ll have full creative freedom, of course! I’m just there more or less for supervision, really…”
You think you feel your heart stop for a few moments, Taeyong’s sudden stream of information fading out. The pinnacle of your career, you believe, had been Paris Fashion Week four years ago and you’d been dreaming of it ever since. This is a business contract, you’re sure, and you don’t know if you have a real choice but maybe you could take that step forward you’ve always wanted to.
“Isn’t that great, (name)?” The director interjects. “You get to work under the Lee Taeyong label. And…surprise! You’ll have your work presented at New York Fashion Week in September. They’ll hit the stores a week later.”
You freeze. 
“New York?” you manage to squeak.
“Yep!” Her voice a notch away from annoying. She’s not the first person you’ve met who sounds so goddamn manufactured. “Pack your bags, darling. You’re flying next weekend.”
You must be looking like a deer caught in the headlights because Taeyong opens his mouth to say something, alarmed. You speak before he does.
“Okay,” you say, more to yourself than them. It should be a good thing. It’s supposed to be a good thing. Even so, you feel the anxiety in your ribcage threatening to overgrow into thorns. 
“I’ll- I’ll do it,” you clarify. Looking from your manager’s bright yet stern face to the hopeful smile on Taeyong, you don’t think you have much of a choice.
New York, huh. How long has it been? You shudder at the memories, your focus a little off for the rest of the day.
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Joohyun visits you a day before you leave. She places the box of chocolates on the coffee table, that Doyoung apparently sent for you. 
“You know, I’m really happy you’re getting this chance,” Joohyun says, crouching down beside where you’re splayed, trying to count the travel essentials and everything else on your messy checklist.
“He gets promoted and now he can’t even come visit me, huh?” you say, shifting to grab the box and tear off the clear wrap.
Joohyun laughs. “He’s certainly enjoying his duties. I can’t wait to boss him around again after I leave.”
Your shoulders hunch, a sigh leaving your lips. “Great. You’re leaving. Doyoung’s too busy to annoy. And now I’m a part of this godforsaken project for almost six months.”
Joohyun softens a bit, running her hand through your hair. “I heard you accepted it. All by yourself. You’ll do just fine, don’t worry.”
You feel yourself turn pink, a feeling of warmth you’ve been missing for a week. It’s cozy in your apartment, always the right temperature with a tinge of happy memories. You wish you could find comfort in people as easily as others do. Everything happened so fast, you can barely remember the conversation you had with Lee Taeyong. A few moments pass, Joohyun and you picking out chocolates before you can rummage through your suitcase again.
“I hate New York, Joohyun. Just what else can you throw into the mix to make me hate it even more?”
She freezes for a fraction of a moment, pressing her lips together before clearing her throat. “Oh. Uh. I probably shouldn’t tell you what I was about to tell you then.”
You turn your head to her, eyes narrowing. “What?”
She shrugs, eyes not meeting yours. “You know. New York. Fashion capital of the world. Lots of things to love.”
“What are you not telling me, Joohyun?”
She sighs, defeated. “A certain someone might be on the same flight as you. I was about to give you his number in case you needed help.”
You pause to think, curling your lips. “It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”
You groan, dropping your head back and yelping when it hits the coffee table. Joohyun moves to rub your head and ease the pain as you let out a stream of complaints.
“You really thought I’d call him for help?” you yell. “Him? Of all people?”
“I think you’d rather have a known face there. Besides, he’s a good kid,” she reasons, looking you in the eye. “And stop yelling.”
You quieten a bit at her glare, gulping. She adds the number to your contacts, saving it with a professional ‘Jung Yoonoh’ before she helps you clean up, advising you on how to manage your finances abroad. You know she’s trying to ease you, but how could she—after dropping this awful news on you like it shouldn’t matter at all? She doesn’t even know what happened—almost happened in Paris, or the fact that your honeyed feelings had turned bitter so easily. She’s worked with him before, you know this, when he was a much younger model and she trusts him more than you ever could. 
But maybe, just maybe she can’t see what you see—after all, she’s also part of the elite, crème de la crème of this industry, more so in this country. It’s frightening, and so vague what goes on up there, at the top of the chain; and whatever you have—it might never be enough. 
You’re you. Sometimes, that isn’t enough.
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You jump at the water rushing from the shower, too cold for skin and scramble to twist the knob the other way. This time, the water’s too hot and you yelp, shutting it off altogether.
You press your hand against the shower glass, breathing heavy. You’re trying—you’ve been desperately trying ever since you landed a week ago. Change is not something you can take lightly. You miss the dim lights of your apartment in Seoul that Joohyun always warned would get you some brand new prescription glasses. You miss walking down the streets to your favourite convenience store at three in the morning to get honey butter chips. You miss picking fights with Doyoung over which detail to scrutinise during your project discussions. This project seems to have torn apart several things that belonged to you.
You can’t seem to get your head into it either—even spacing out during the meeting you had with Lee Taeyong among several other things. You can’t remember a single design detail he’d specified or what the theme was even supposed to be—a bunch of bright foggy lights replacing whatever fuzz was growing in your head. A twenty-something-year-old shouldn’t be letting homesickness affect them like this. 
You finish the rest of your shower with a heavy heart and a clouded head. 
Taeyong booking a luxury suite for you was a bit…much. Not that you’re complaining, but it gives more fuel to the profound sense of emptiness you keep drawing. There’s no intimacy to this place, no love. It’s a little hard to create things without love, and comfort.
Still, you grit your teeth and get dressed into something more comfortable for the night. If not today, then tomorrow. Something will have to give, even if it costs you—whatever the hell your parents keep telling you when you’re going through problems. What if you don’t want to be cost things? Compromise isn’t as delicate as it sounds. You try to comfort yourself, rocking yourself on the much too large couch, hugging a pillow close and trying to think of things that don’t immediately make you want to throw up.
The memories of your first visit are a little less than pleasant. You think you cried after the entire ordeal because you thought you did a bad job of talking, socializing, the most ordinary things. There are some people who are good at wearing masks—good at making copper look like gold, good at shining under dim lights, and good at using words that don’t have much meaning to their existence other than being pretty. 
You were not one of them. 
The intense need for everything to be perfect was still there, even when you couldn’t possibly have achieved it. You wanted to make things and show them to the world—what was so wrong with that? Why did being there make you feel like you could never even touch your dreams? You were so out of place, feeling completely out of touch with yourself. There were people from the top there, established and famous. It felt out of your grasp. You felt fake.
The city lights twinkle with life but there’s no sound, the windows shut tight. The ambience of the room is kept to a caramel minimum—the best you can do to honour your sweet little home back in Seoul.
The hatred for everything pretentious was born with your first step into this place, into the game that the big boys play. It showed in your designs, your choice of fabric, your distaste for certain people. You wanted reality—you wanted a taste of life in your everyday clothes. You wanted that flavour you feel on your tongue in a room full of strangers or the one on a quiet night by yourself at your apartment rooftop. You didn’t want dignified fur coat ensembles, you wanted the naive chaos you feel every day and you wanted to make it look good. It’s driving you insane just how much you feel like you’re losing now.
You take out your phone after what seems a few minutes of contemplation. 
Jung Yoonoh. Your finger hovers over the call button. What would he say if his night is interrupted by your voice?
You’d met at the airport after landing, though you were only two seats away in the plane. You’d made no error in acknowledging his presence, browsing through the inflight magazine half-heartedly. Truth be told, sometimes you couldn’t really seem to get over him. Sometimes the thought of him made you so pissed, you had no idea what to think of it. 
“Welcome to New York,” he had said shortly after you’d exited, a giant crowd of people greeting out-goers, holding up placards with names of people, in numbers you’re unaccustomed to. Or, used to be accustomed to.
You hadn’t talked since—and really, you weren’t expecting to.
You press your home button, any lingering thoughts of him vanishing at the force with which you tell yourself it’s not worth it. How is Jung Yoonoh better than anyone else you know here? He might have been living in New York for quite a few years now, and he’s probably the only one you’d feel comfortable enough to swear at—that doesn’t mean you’d actually ask for help. That doesn’t mean he’d actually help. Joohyun must have had her hopes far too high to have convinced you for even a moment.
The couch feels colder all of a sudden, and you turn down the air conditioner. This place will never adjust to you, and your stubborn little self won’t either.
You think of Jaehyun from the afterparty, loose shirt and knowing eyes, and you wonder if he feels just the same frustrated agony, if not more. You think of his parted lips and breathing words close enough to be provocative, discomfort growing at the base of your stomach. Who does he think he is? He might have the airs and dignity of someone way up in the hierarchy of society but you know what people can be like. You know envy, you know malice, and you know lies. He has to fit in there somewhere—and perhaps you would have hated him less if he did.
Even if you’d scoffed at the idea of jealousy, that might very well be the closest to what you feel, what you keep hidden in the darkest corners of your locked chest. When you first met at that star-spangled dinner, you’d felt what it’s like to watch a fireworks show or a big musical opening; but the fireworks are being blocked by skyscrapers and you’re only the helping staff at the theatre, watching from a balcony at the very back. Jaehyun was impressive with barely any words. It annoyed you so much and somehow, the only solution you arrived at was the tremendous need to understand him, pick him apart and see what made him.
No. That’s wrong. You were annoyed because you still wanted to kiss him after he’d pushed you away, his dislike steaming clear. It strikes you as gently as lightning that the only reason someone would have to hate Jaehyun is being attracted so violently to him. God, you hate making a fool out of yourself.
You pass the night in quiet contemplation, promising yourself a better tomorrow. After all, no one else is going to do it. 
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You walk with your chin up as if you don’t feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. You picked out your black Harrington jacket to look at least a little more professional, but you might have miscalculated the size and the material in the equation because you look completely and utterly ridiculous in it. No one would look at you and think you even work in fashion, much less be competent in that line. 
(To be fair, you wear the same beige sweater and black corduroy pants to work and if your coworkers choose to judge you, you wouldn’t blame them.) 
It’s only been a month and somehow, it translates to forever to you. You think you’re adjusting better now, and you pat yourself on the back for it. It’s not raining today at the mercy of the skies, a tidal wave of sunlight splashing through the buildings every time you take a turn. The city doesn’t scare you all that much anymore. It’s a good day, for once.  
You lean your head against the car window, eyes trailing up and down the reflective blue of each skyscraper. You can barely see any clouds, and the sky’s endlessly the same, comforting blue. Just like back home, you think for a moment. Your eyes move back to the sidewalk, people passing by—mothers with their babies in strollers, kids clutching the strap of their school bags as they run, men and women in all levels of professional clothing. No one stops in this city. Except the fucking traffic apparently.
You sigh, glancing at your watch. Only moments ago, you were moving and yet again, you’ve stopped. The cycle keeps repeating and you’re trying to keep patience focusing on things around you that you can appreciate. 
Maybe you jinxed it when you said it was a good day.
You reach Taeyong’s studio just in time (not that you’d get yelled at or anything, he’s too nice of a guy). Your eyes fixate on the numbers that light up on the elevator one by one till it finally reaches the first floor.
You walk right into someone’s chest, an apology tumbling out of your lips as you bow out of habit. 
You look up to find Jaehyun in the elevator of Taeyong’s building, a casual white shirt clinging to his frame that’s tucked into his jeans to look somewhat formal. A pink overshirt hangs at his forearm and from the windswept styling of hair and his perfected dark locks, you’ll assume he’s here for a shoot—even without it, he looks like something from a teen magazine, someone people would see and instantly daydream of. Best known for high fashion, Jung Yoonoh is still a spectacle in casualwear. 
“I can’t believe I have to see your face here too,” you mutter, getting into the elevator. You’ve had your share of moments with him.
“Good to see you too,” he says, bemused. 
You make a sound of acknowledgment, taking out your phone to turn the damn notifications off so you don’t feel it vibrate in your pocket every few minutes. You feel eyes on you for a moment and snap your head to the side.
Jaehyun has his eyes focused on the door, quiet breathing fresh against his lips and you hesitate before concluding you might have been mistaken in your perception. 
“You’re here for a shoot?” you ask, curious about his relationship with Taeyong. 
“What else can I be here for?” He says nonchalantly. 
“Sarcastic. Very nice.”  
“It’s a little weird, you trying to make conversation with me. You’re usually raving about me too much to actually talk to me.” He smiles, the dimples provoking and eyes the familiar beguiling brown. 
“I’m not trying to make conversation,” you hiss, crossing your arms. “I’m sorry, I forgot you’re only a person in front of cameras.”
Jaehyun takes a sharp breath before turning to you, a not-so-happy look on his face despite the calmness over his features. You’ve seen it enough times.
“How long are you going to keep up the pretentious this and pretentious that before you face it, really?” He looks at you with tight lips, poisonous implications in his question. “Why you love to get up in my case all the time?”
The words take time to settle in. You shake your head when you realize, a sardonic laugh leaving your lips. Of course he’d think that.
“Oh my god,” you scoff. “You’re so full of yourself. You think I’m interested in you? Don’t let what happened years ago get to your head.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Oh, what did you mean then? Pray tell.”
“First of all, stop cutting me off,” he says, taking a step towards you. A certain feeling of uneasiness runs through you when you detect annoyance in his quiet statement.
“Secondly,” he says, taking a another step forward just as your back hits the wall of the elevator, “Stop treating me like I’m the bane of your existence. I have nothing to do with you.”
He’s right, of course, but the words sting where they hit. Asshole, you think. He has no business telling you what to do and what not to do. But in this moment, you can’t fish for the correct words—you don’t have the strength to when you’re so close to each other like this, the scent of his cologne syrupy and sickening. His tall stature is intimidating, with his straight shoulders and proud jawline.
The elevator dings at the seventh floor, Jaehyun stepping away from you without a glance or care, striding out just as smoothly as on a runway.
You take a moment to breathe, unsaid words burning holes into your tongue. You wish you could’ve said something better, anything that didn’t make you feel so pathetic. Maybe you should’ve told him to stick his words up his ass, sounding vulgar being the least of your worries. You wait patiently to reach the last floor, each ding souring your mood little by little. 
You are so glad you didn’t call him that night. To think he’d ever help you knowing it’s mutual, the whole hating each other’s guts. You just can’t believe the audacity of him—to accuse you of, what, romantic feelings? In an industry where you can’t tell apart gold from copper? Where all the people warming up to you are fair weather friends and competitors? He must have let all that attention get to his head. Runway faces aren’t as easy to fall in love with as he thinks.
“(name)! Come quick!”
Taeyong’s voice urges as soon as you enter and you settle your bag down, rushing to him. His smile drops when he sees your seething figure place your bag on the desk with a loud thud. You turn to him, without a hint of sweetened formality and ask him the day’s schedule.
Taeyong gulps before responding, undoubtedly afraid of your lips, a twitch away from a scowl, but he explains nicely nonetheless.
“Can you do a rerun of these designs for me?” he says, arranging the papers on the desk. That’s how he says these need improvement. No wonder the interns love him.
Taeyong’s in his usual attire, still too chic for you but strangely comfortable to look at. You nod, immediately scrutinising them, your (almost pointless) years of training trying to give you hints as to where you went wrong. You’re not really expecting to find big flaws or anything—just details you can enhance. You’ve learned enough about Taeyong in a month and it’s that his sense of style encompasses comfort, even in the most abstract of concepts. You respect him for that. It doesn’t change the fact that you think it’s a little overdone maybe.
Taeyong laughs, breaking you out of your daze. You raise an eyebrow.
“Is- Is something wrong?” You look at him, perplexed.
“It’s just that- It’s just you remind me a lot of the fashion students.” He smiles at you.
Your shoulders droop. Amateur. New. Unprofessional.
Taeyong rephrases himself quickly, waving his hands about. “I don’t mean it as a bad thing! It just means you still…love doing it.”
It sticks with you longer than you’d expect, as you work throughout the day. You think Taeyong is too nice to criticize you properly but he eventually gets the point across—stick to the theme, written in Taeyong’s dainty handwriting and pinned to the softboard. 
What an atrocious concept. Firstly, it makes no sense apart from sounding like a fucking lingerie collection. Secondly, when you went over Taeyong’s designs with the layers and patches, you supposed he wanted to focus on the inside of things because everything he’d drawn was inside out. Thirdly, when you heard him explain it, you were a little taken aback to hear it was going to be all about you, us. The designers, the models, the photographers, the magazine editors—there are millions and millions of people working to make sketches come to life, for a few items of clothing in someone’s closet. It feels nice to hear that from him. You promise you’re going to perfect it. 
And perfection is your dear old friend. 
It’s what you always strive for, but end up with something else that’s a little less beautiful. You take slow breaths, removing and adding details (after all, art is in the details). But perfection can easily grow tiresome. It makes you increasingly frustrated and you don’t think you have the heart to tell Taeyong everything in his studio stresses you out.
“So, you’re working with Jaehyun?” you ask, trying to look less antsy.
Taeyong blanks out for a moment before responding. “Yes. Why? Is he- Is he making you uncomfortable?”
Uncomfortable wouldn’t even begin to explain what he makes you feel. 
“No,” you deny. “Just curious.”
Taeyong smiles. “We usually work on summer shoots together. It’s like tradition.”
“That’s…nice,” you say, trying to reciprocate his smile.
“Oh, but we’re having terrible weather so the shoots keep going longer than planned. That’s why I’m having to compromise planning time with you. Sorry about that.”
You try to keep your posture despite the mild annoyance brewing at the back of your head. Great. Now you have to see Jaehyun’s unbelievably annoying face every time you walk in. Maybe if you plead enough, you’d get permission to leave early and not want to throw some insults at him. 
You decide to walk, despite Taeyong insisting his driver help you get home. He doesn’t act like it but he’s a busy man, with side projects and interviews coming up so often you lose count. It’s no wonder he had to, and you hate using this word, hire someone for the label’s next venture. You think articles like Lee Taeyong loses touch and hires designers instead of doing his job would make him upset but he seems to genuinely not let it bother him. It’s about ideas to him. His label, almost large enough to be a brand, is for ideas; what a pretty thing to base your business around. While you thought you were a big shot back in South Korea, you’re almost nothing more than Lee Taeyong’s co-designer—assistant here.
You feel drops of what you felt years ago trickling down your throat. Overshadowed. Powerless. Imposter. Something about New York makes you want to pull all your hair out. You wish you hadn’t been here in the first place, maybe then this would seem more of a fun trip than memories weighing you down. But then if you hadn’t been here, you might not have even started.
You hug yourself at the sudden downpour, clouds kind enough for it to be nothing more than showers but you’re soaked anyway. Kind, but still a little cruel. Running under the eaves of a store, you curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella the only day you needed it. You stand there for a while, just breathing.
Real life is never like movies, is it? Cameras lie. Pretty faces lie. Sometimes you end up stuck in New York rains without an umbrella or a friend to call or a lover to protect you. You end up getting an Uber, taking awfully long to arrive due to the traffic the rain had ensued and try your best to ignore the disgruntled driver mumbling about you wetting his seats.
You still don’t know how the goddamn shower works. 
You manage to complete without either scorching your skin off or freezing it to Greenland and back—a feat much more successful than whatever you had going on for today. You slip into the absurdly soft mattress, pillows and covers swallowing you into a state of sleep.
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You start the day almost pouring coffee onto Jaehyun’s spotless white shirt. And you might have were it not for immense self-restraint, and the fact that Taeyong’s eyes were trained on the two of you.
“So…are you two…a thing or something?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.
“No,” Jaehyun responds calmly while you sputter it out.
Taeyong apologizes, a laugh following. “You seem to have worked together before. Jaehyun, you never told me that.”
“I…I thought you knew,” he answers, leaning back against the tabletop.
“Ah, well,” Taeyong shrugs. “Thanks for helping me out with this, (name). Maybe- maybe we can draw some inspiration for the collection from outdoors.”
“Of course,” you say as you smile wide, trying hard not to break the coffee mug in your hand.
If you’re being honest, you had a gut feeling you’d be asked to help with Taeyong’s (apparently) infamous summer shoot. He walks into his studio every morning with hair in a disarray, talking to more people than he might enjoy and the entirety of New York weather against him. There’s only so much time a man can have and under pressure, he’s going to have to choose. It’s easy to feel sorry for someone like him.
This should be the stylist’s job. Jaehyun stands with his chin up as you adjust the fitting, smoothing out creases and making sure the cerulean shirt is pinned right, satin feeling cool and nice under your fingers. Sleeveless is back in trend this summer, and so are low-cuts.
“Careful there,” he says when you hand brushes a little lower, just below the full-grain leather belt.
You hope your face isn’t steaming from the rush of heat but you manage to limit your emotions to a sound of discomfort, remembering the horrendous accusation he’d thrown at you. “I don’t care about your dick, twit.”
Jaehyun laughs, bending a little to whisper. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
“You look like you’re having a wonderful time making me uncomfortable.”
“You’re just so easy to work up.”
His dimples are getting on your nerves. You reach up to button his collar, perhaps a little too harsh because he chokes, an uncharacteristic sound leaving his mouth as he winces. You suppress a smile, glad you managed to do something about the look on his face.
The sunlight over this park feels like Christmas come early, with the way Taeyong is flitting from model to model and stylist to stylist with the intensity of a five year old after an ice-cream truck. 
“Is he- Is he usually like this?” you ask, eyes on the makeup artist getting directions from Taeyong.
“I just assumed all of you are this way,” Jaehyun, responds looking at the same sight.
You roll your eyes. “We’re not all crazy.”
Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe a little bit,” you correct yourself, watching Taeyong almost trip over someone’s bag in order to greet the magazine’s style director. 
Jaehyun chuckles, eyes meeting yours for a moment before the two of you go about your own business.
You like magazine shoots for the most part. You never find a glass of water anywhere, but some intern or the other will definitely be there to fetch you Starbucks. There’s at least three people fussing over each model and at least two exasperated photographers trying very hard to snap clean shots. The stylist and designer look as though they might explode any minute, although the relief on their faces after it’s all over is something worth looking at. The skies are so bright and blue, you think, for a cosmopolis. The trees and shrubs lining the park are in a state of tranquility compared to the chaos it encircles.  
Magazines might not be as important in an age of social media advertisement, almost part of nostalgia now—but maybe some of you are not yet willing to deny kids the thrill of reading a magazine under their blankets in the middle of the night. It often gave hope to little boys playing dress up and little girls sewing their own clothes. 
You’d forgotten just how exhausting shooting with magazines is. The models must be having it worse but their masks don’t come off easy. If you had ever underestimated their job difficulty, it comes back to throttle you at full speed every time you’re at a shoot.
 Looking good in front of a camera is pretty damn hard. 
They don’t even get to keep the clothes, unless some asshole of a designer decides to pay them in apparel instead of actual money. Most models leave New York in debt. Men are paid even less than women. You’re surprised Jaehyun is as celebrated as he is—or the fact that he was clever enough of a businessman in launching his own high fashion-themed restaurant. You’ve heard he barely visits it, like a careless afterthought. But you’re not one to get carried away by sketchy articles on the internet. All you’ve needed are more reasons to hate him.
You sip the iced coffee, its effect pretty much worn out during humid afternoons. It’s time for a break, but no one’s willing to break momentum. You find yourself feeling a little awkward, as nothing more than a guest with creative advice, and so you sit under the comforting cool of the giant green umbrella at one of the tables. You could sink into your chair were it not so damn uncomfortable.
Jaehyun takes a seat right beside you to your surprise, offering you a box of diced mango before you fervently decline. You still think he’s an asshole. It doesn’t make any sense—why accuse you of unsaid affections and then flirt with you like he never said it? It’s not like you’re even friends, how ridiculous. There are quite a few jerks you’ve met in your life, but Jung Yoonoh really takes the cake.
“What?” you snap when his gaze gets on your nerves.
“I didn’t say anything.” He raises his hands defensively, eyes still on yours. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”
“I enjoy the air conditioned suite Taeyong booked me more than this, yes.” You sigh, leaning back. “I don’t really have anything to do.” 
“I’m assuming he booked you the luxury suite on the fifteenth floor,” he says, chuckling.
You furrow your eyebrows. It’s not impossible that Jaehyun knows Taeyong’s favorite suite to book for guests.
“The view’s pretty nice from there, right? Oh, and you must be enjoying the silence.”
“I actually like the outside sounds,” you defend. “It’s calming.” 
“Not when you’re on the third floor,” he says, shoving a piece of mango into his mouth with a fork. “All you hear is middle aged men screaming.”
You rest your elbow on the table, placing your chin against your palm. The shade is separated from sunlight by a thin line against his chest, pale blue satin glimmering where the sun meets it. Jaehyun’s eyes shine a darker hue of honey under the shade, moving to the box in his hands occasionally before trailing back to the background noise again. Taeyong really does love pretty fits, but this might just be one of the most gorgeous pieces you’ve seen this summer (and you’ve already been through all the ready-to-wear lookbooks you possibly could). A thought passes you in a breeze, that maybe it's the model making it seem that way.
“You’re talkative today,” you note quietly, the sun harsher on your cheeks than before.
Jaehyun shrugs, hurrying to finish all the pieces. He suddenly pulls a face, one you don’t see very often in high fashion websites and Instagram pages. It’s almost cute. 
You find yourself laughing, a gentle influx of peace filling the inside your chest. You quickly recover, looking back up to see Jaehyun simply staring at you, breathing. He looks caught off-guard, no camera to warn him. You straighten, your cheeks flushing with heat.
“Is- Is something wrong?”
He immediately shakes his head, more to himself than you. There’s a pause before the two of you are happily distracted. The style director appears to be gesturing at him from the other side and Jaehyun responds with a curt wave.
“You’re doing two different concepts today?”
“Three, actually.”
You raise your eyebrows. Well, they’re definitely taking advantage of the good weather. They could just photoshop it, in your opinion, but authenticity is everything when it comes to magazines nowadays. 
“Well, don’t let me hold you back,” you say, your tone dismissive. “Go get changed into whatever pretty shirt Taeyong has up next in his collection.”
“The next shoot doesn’t have a shirt,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirked upward.
You almost choke on your coffee, blaming the heat for your weak state of mind. You’re just having one of those strange days—just that, nothing else.
You finish the rest of the coffee, cup resting in your hand till you find the energy to get up and find a trash can.  
Jaehyun was right. This time the shoot’s a little too wet and a little too much skin for you to enjoy. The only thing added to Jaehyun above the waist are a dainty red scarf knotted over his neck and a small, flat hoop earring on his left ear. The velvet fingerless gloves, although you’re not very fond of them, complete a rather rugged yet soft look. You didn’t expect Taeyong to come up with something like that. 
Jaehyun’s well-developed physique, while you’ve seen it in other shoots and online articles, is completely different when you’re a few feet away from it. The dark blue cargo pants, silken, are a signature style of Taeyong but the details don’t distract you easily enough. Funny, this is the first time you’re feeling somewhat flustered in a place full of half-naked models. 
You suddenly think of reds and oranges, lilac shrubs and a hint of Burberry men’s perfume. In a way, it reminds you of the strums of the guitar your roommate used to play while you stayed up late, coming up with concepts. Cherishing, soothing—and special, just enough. The corner of your lips twitch and you take out your pocket sketchbook. It’s never too late to add a design to the collection, right? After all, you have secrets too. Maybe Taeyong was right about the outdoors for inspiration. 
Something sets into motion, subtle but sharp.
The next time you walk into Taeyong’s studio, you feel the sun on your face better. Everything seems to be fitting into place, as you smooth through designs at a pace your student self would be jealous of. When Taeyong praises your work, you feel a rush of pride smearing the inside of your chest and you finally feel like everything’s not falling apart. It feels good. It feels like you’re someone.
The days go by in what seems like barely seconds—you know what they say about New York minutes. The mustard cloth draped over your desk to the cottage blue of your curtains, the colours around you change as quickly as the wind. Sometimes they’re abstract—and other times, well, they have more to do with a stranger’s eyes, or the swirls within a coffee cup. It’s the way in which transition occurs around you, that you often forget it moves something within you too. 
You’ve put together some samples with Taeyong, most of them by yourself; the process of making is ever comforting, fabric even more so. You’ve sent the revised designs for production, feeling giddy about whatever is to come like it’s something new. (It shouldn’t be.) 
You fucking hate how different this is. Seoul is nothing compared to New York. The anxiety is nearly ten times worse, the streets are far more attractive when it comes to inspiration and the figure of Jung Yoonoh is no longer as easy to ignore. 
Even after the summer shoot’s over, Jaehyun often comes by to hang out at the studio, dressed in what you would call the simplest fucking thing you’d ever seen and still managing to look just as gorgeous. He blends in well with university students, often wearing the ugliest baseball cap you’ve ever seen, and the look of his face feels much, much worse than ever before. It’s at ease, smug even, but never failing to smile at you when you’re trying to focus. You don’t care how good of friends Taeyong and Jaehyun are—you want to tell him to leave. 
But you just can’t bring yourself to. It’s not that you don’t trust yourself, you certainly do, but whatever New York has done to you, includes making you feel a different way about him. Sometimes you find yourself pressing your legs together harshly, stiffening at any proximity with him and a pool of warmth at the base of your stomach you’d rather not feel.
It’s embarrassing to even think about it—the fact that he makes you feel that way, so hot and bothered like it’s your first time. You blame your lack of going out these few months because after all, anyone could fall in love with runway faces. It doesn’t have to mean it’s him you want. You carry on doing what you’ve been doing for the most part of your career, your best to avoid him. There are more pressing matters, and your head might just implode if you keep on worrying about things (a man, of all) you need not. 
Time passes even faster when all your thoughts revolve around the same thing.
One month. D-30. Whatever the hell you call time before the end of the world.
Your palms sweat a whole lot easier here. It’s a little weird, considering you don’t find much difference in humidity between Seoul and New York. Your heart often catches up in your throat too. Not a great feeling, your heart choking the breath out of you, but you’re used to it. You cope and you learn, that’s what it means to be human.
You pull your hand down before it reaches your teeth. The day ended in a meeting with Taeyong’s production team—everything’s running smoothly so you need not worry, he said. 
Why are those the words that make you worry the most? 
You check the time on your phone. 23:05 and a whole month to go. You better get some sleep for all the meetings you have scheduled tomorrow. You close your eyes and for a while, everything falls quiet.
You dream of New York Fashion Week. People come here to feel included. Everyone wants to be a part of something they don’t understand.
The models walk down the runway in increasingly uncomfortable outfits. You didn’t design any of them. Where are the ones you worked on? You can’t move from your seat, or turn your head from the runway, anything at all. Something’s wrong, everything’s wrong. You don’t belong here. Thunder strikes outside the venue and you wake up with a gasp caught in your throat, and the clock on the bedside table flashing 2:14.
You’ve had enough. You swear you’ve had enough.
You get up out of bed, pacing the giant bedroom, the empty spaces making you feel more and more miserable. The city twinkles with innumerous stars beyond your window, curtains half drawn so they can comfort you whenever you need—but these lights don’t shine for you, or anyone else. They shine for themselves. That’s what it means to be in New York again. 
What time is it in Seoul? Could you call your mother? Joohyun? Everyone must be busy right now—you don’t know what to do. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt so helpless. There’s a reason you’ve been avoiding New York for this long and now it’s come crashing down on you. 
This was a mistake. All of it was a mistake.
You look down at your phone, the light hurting your eyes despite being set to the lowest brightness. You think a little, and then some more. There’s no one else you can call. Even if he’s busy charming all the other employees whenever you see him, even if half the world is in love with him, there’s no one else you can call. This time you don’t stop yourself.
You tap the call button beside the Jung Yoonoh saved neatly. Tapping your foot against the floor nervously, your mind goes blank for a few seconds or so. He answers when you’re just about to hang up, breath hitching in your throat at the sound of his voice.
“Hello? Hello? If this is a reporter—”
“It’s me, Jaehyun.”
The line goes quiet for a moment and your voice overlaps his before he can begin.
“I- I didn’t mean to call so late. Sorry…uh.”
You scrunch up your face at your own voice. This is not getting you anywhere.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, voice lower.
You fall silent, unable to answer without breaking down into tears. You did not call Jung Yoonoh for that. 
“Yeah,” you choke out. “Fine. Completely fine. I just…”
You trail off, trying to get yourself to breathe.
“I’ll send you an address. Be there in an hour.”
You blink back tears, confusion adding to the burning pile of worries inside your head. 
“Address. I’ll text you. Be there. One hour.”
“I’m not stupid, Jaehyun,” you snap, strength refilling your voice. “Why?”
“I’m not answering questions, just be there.”
With that, the line goes flat and an embarrassing amount of ‘hello’s get you to realize that he hung up. A notification pops up a minute later and you’re too groggy to decipher it, logging it to Maps instead so you can follow. It’s fifteen minutes away, you realize with a sigh of relief, so you can at least present yourself within the given constraint. 
You can’t grasp what you feel in the moment, the night air and warm streets beckoning you to leave the clamped apartment soaked in fear. You think this is unlike Jaehyun, what he’s doing, but you’re too shaken to care. You need some respite, even if it comes from somewhere you can’t picture.
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“You…wanted to meet me at a Korean barbecue restaurant?”
Jaehyun’s ears turn red, as they often do when he doesn’t know how to respond to you.
“I-It’s not that I…Never mind,” he tries to explain, fidgeting with the cloth over his shoulder. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”  
We? You think, eyes scanning his face in confusion. If you want? Where’s the uncaring Jaehyun you’ve known, foreign eyes and impassive lips? He hardly looks the part he’s meant to play—a billboard face with a confident jawline and nothing more behind it. Outside of work—you don’t even know what else to call this—Jaehyun looks hardly intimidating, or abrasive. He seems different, gentle almost, although the dark circles under his eyes might have something to do with it. Maybe he’s too tired to say anything more and that’s it.
But he still came all the way here.
“Aren’t you a little…overdressed?” 
There comes the remark you were hoping to not hear. You just wanted to look nice; you’d hardly call this overboard. The loose, mustard-colored chiffon shirt cinches at the waist, paired with your nicest (only not faded) pair of light blue jeans and shoes that haven’t seen the light of day since you arrived here. You barely ever design clothes for yourself anymore but you thought you looked good in this.
“No,” you defend quickly, feeling your face grow warm. “You’re underdressed.”
You say that, but he clearly looks good in anything he wears. Could you expect any less of  a supermodel? He doesn’t seem to have dressed in as much a hurry as you had. Clad in a plain black T-shirt that’s half tucked into skinny jeans, he’s added his hideous baseball cap and a pair of navy blue shades which looks just as ridiculous as it sounds. You really think he shouldn’t be leaving his house without the help of a stylist. 
“I…I just mean you don’t wear anything other than the same sweater and pants combination to work, so… please excuse my surprise.”
Jaehyun's eyes flicker over your figure before masking it with an awkward cough. You reach out and pull the shades over his head, the look bothering you more than anything else. He doesn’t respond to it, at least not in a way that’s obvious, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do—you fixing his hair and unquestionably awful sense of style.
“There’s a soju place a few blocks ahead. Or if you’re not into that, there’s a noodle shop just at the edge of K-town,” Jaehyun rambles on, not meeting your eye. “If you’re looking for something inexpensive—"
“You came all the way here to give me directions?” You raise an eyebrow. You might even be enjoying this, although your inner voice bites back at you, denying it.
Jaehyun shakes his head, the red in his ears pulsing back up. “No. I…I needed some fresh air.”
“You…have someplace to be then?”
Jaehyun might not realize it, but the answers he gives always have room for teasing. Aloof. Vague. Yet somehow sweet.
“And you’ll go alone? At this hour? No, I’ll accompany you,” he says out loud, trying to play off the sudden vocal inflection. You sigh. Boys will be boys, as they say. Even if they’re twenty-six.
You let him keep you company. Though the first few minutes are painfully quiet, neither of you knowing quite what to say without starting a disagreement, you continue your walk through a city that never sleeps. It’s awkward even, being side by side without you seething at his charming, (undoubtedly) fake smile. He feels real, for once, and you don’t know how to react. There seem to be some gold-tinted cracks appearing in your reality, slowly but surely, and you’re not very good at patching anything other than fabric.
“You know, it’s actually a little relieving to see Korean letters here,” you say, sighing. You never thought you’d be so corny, but it really does feel good being here. 
Or is it him? 
“Thanks,” you add quietly, hoping he doesn’t hear. No, maybe you do. You can’t tell at this point.
“I…I know what it’s like,” he says, so softly that it almost gets carried away by the wind. He clears his throat, an ‘ah’ escaping his lips as he stops abruptly.
“We…We missed the turn,” he declares, a little sheepish as he scratches the back of his head.
You look at him in disbelief. “Jaehyun, how long have you lived here?”
“Oh, I was born here actually,” he says, tilting his face to look at you, blunt sarcasm evident on it. “How many times have you lost your way to the convenience store in Seoul?”
“Literally zero times.”
Jaehyun puffs a cheek before going back to normal and turning a hundred and eighty degrees down the street.
“Hey, wait up!” you huff at his increased pace, half jogging to keep up.
You reach the acclaimed noodle shop, your breath barely within your lungs and swearing at Jaehyun who looks like he wasn’t bothered one bit. He reaches his hand out to help you and you swat it away, chest still heaving with your hands on your knees.
“Dickhead,” you hiss.
“I don’t think I deserved that,” he responds with a widening smile. 
“Asshole,” you say, standing up straight to glare at him.
“What would Seoul say hearing their beloved designer swear like this?” Jaehyun looks almost amused, as if you hadn’t shared an awkward time together, like two teenagers who were forced to walk home together from the bus stop.
“They can go to hell,” you retort. “As can you.”
Jaehyun laughs, a strange sound to hear and you blink a few times, unsure of what to do. You wonder if it’s the night playing tricks or if Jaehyun really is an actual person, not the basket of preprocessed insults you were used to. The cracks are widening—you’re not sure if they’re meant to be patched.
Perhaps you were a little eager to enter someplace warm, but you feel immense relief in this little shop, despite the smell of chili paste and noodle soup wafting through the air. It’s a little empty; in fact, you two seem to be the only people there apart from some students at the other corner, but you sit there in your own bubble, talking with Jaehyun of all people about which singer is better. He laughs occasionally, still managing to catch you off-guard with how honest it sounds and you wonder for a moment, how nice this feels. For the first time in a month, your heartbeat seems to have settled at a normal rate.
“What?” you enounce, a little offended. “What’s so wrong about my love life?”
“You just- You just don’t seem that type,” he explains, his ears as red as the bowl.
“I don’t have time for commitments, Jaehyun,” you sigh. “It’s what happens when you’re good at your job.”
Jaehyun nods, something akin to agreement in his response. 
“So, your, uh, what is it? Training camp? What’s that about?” you ask, in between blowing your food.
“You could really Google things once in a while, you know?” he replies, bringing his chopsticks close to his mouth.
You roll your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not one of your creepy stalkers, Mr. Jung.”
“Nothing to do with that,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s for kids interested in fashion, modeling, photography—stuff.”
“Oh? How so?”
“I just sponsor them. You know how difficult it is to get noticed in…this industry,” he explains, like it’s not a big deal. Nothing ever seems to be a big deal to him.
You nod, unable to help the smile. Maybe it isn’t a big deal, but you’re sure now that you were mistaken. Just a little bit. 
“I was lucky,” you mumble. “I can’t believe they saw those ugly embroidered patches and decided to sponsor me, oh my god. That sweater was hideous.”
Jaehyun laughs loudly. “They saw me cleaning outside my school and decided to pick me up and ship me straight to Paris.”
“Nothing’s worse than the first day.” You take another mouthful, the taste savoury and filling. 
“You know, I’m pretty sure they photoshopped my ears out in the first magazine shoot I had.”
You laugh, leaning in a little closer. “Your first year was rough, huh?”
He hums, his eyes flickering from your nose to your lips. It makes you a little self-conscious, blood rushing to your cheeks at an unexpected pace. Who knew Jaehyun could have such an effect on you? 
Your eyes flutter over his face once again.
He’s handsome. But it’s the sort of handsomeness that tells you, you don’t know much beyond it. You look back at your bowl, sobering up and completing the rest of the noodles.
It’s still midnight blue in the faraway sky as you walk down the streets. Most of the people you see out and about are those drunk off their faces from club hopping or a particularly enthusiastic group of tourists. The watermelon soju, while better with budae-jjigae and arguably the best soju flavor, somehow had little effect on you with the bitter aftertaste still settling in. The crowds in other places would make for great people-watching but you walk in a lonely street that calls for proximity. Beside you, Jaehyun sneezes, the sound of it making you jump on the quiet sidewalk.
“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun,” you huff, wincing at the sound, “you sounded like a fucking tractor.”
Jaehyun laughs, looking down at the pavement. When he looks back at you, the circles underneath his eyes seem to have darkened and you wonder if yours are the same. Yours can’t possibly be as important as his, though, and you wonder if it’s appropriate to laugh at how dorky he looks.
You find yourself not wanting to walk back into the safety of your suite. Jaehyun has a look of calm across his features, drawing over the landscape around you. New York lights don’t faze him, they only reflect in his eyes. 
The way his soft breaths fan out against his lips remind you that he is human, after all—he has a soul and body, thoughts and its beautiful intricacies. When he turns back to you, you feel those criminal feelings all over again, except this time it’s even louder. It feels so wrong, and yet you can’t help but think of the liberation that could come with his lips on yours. 
You could swear out loud, all the colorful words ready at the tip of your tongue.
“Your collar’s…”
Jaehyun’s voice trails off, his hand moving to fix your flipped collar, and when the heat of his skin brushes your neck, you try to not think of where else his hands could be, his lips could be. 
In fact, there’s a moment within where it’s perfectly reasonable for him to kiss you, the taste almost on your tongue. But Jaehyun moves away, an indecipherable look across his face.
“I should get going,” he says, “I have a- I have a shoot early tomorrow—today.”
You nod, cheeks coloring at your own unsaid thoughts. Just what have you done to yourself? Why is your skin searing, why does your stomach feel upside down and why were you so ready to give in to him? To Jaehyun? You’ve never felt want like this before, this need to press skin against skin in a manner so illicit. 
You part with a short goodbye, the sudden loneliness in your path making you want to backtrack, ask if you can go somewhere else again—maybe there’s a club nearby so you can see him through a round of shots as you usually do. Maybe the bitter feelings will return then. 
When you think of the words you exchanged over the course of so unusual a night—your former unforgiving words contradict you. You hate the realization but being so obscure in front of a camera doesn’t have to mean he’s pretentious. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe someday you’ll even admit it.
You feel a flash of heat in your face. You are not running to Jung Yoonoh—what an embarrassing thought. If the very core of your being isn’t repulsed by it, there’s something wrong with you. 
There’s something definitely wrong with you, love.
You breathe sharply, trying to organize your thoughts. As if the paparazzi wouldn’t have a treat out of this meeting you had with him if they got to know. You’d better limit it to the only one.
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You bite your nails out of force of habit. It’s not going to help. You know. But there’s hardly anything else to cool your nerves.
Front row tickets to New York Fashion Week—the most mortifying dream out of all the ones you’ve ever had. The way Taeyong fidgets, you want to believe he’s in the same boat as you—it makes you thankful even. 
Even outside of New York, Lee Taeyong is known for booking out exclusively intimate spaces. There are some props for the pre-show photography, including inked sketches on giant vertical banners stuck to the walls and tables with a messy collection of coffee cans, pencils and a sewing machine. Diverse types of fabric roll off the table in long strips, gently lining the floor till they end midway to another table. It’s a mess—a mess you made look good.
You’d left that and the backstage behind now. All eyes are on the sparsely lit runway, your aspirations coating the air in a thick veil. Are you ready? You won’t know till the first model steps out and till you can elicit a response from the audience.
Jaehyun’s at another venue—career before friendship, or, heaven forbid, attraction. You’d seen the fitting, cape skirt doing daringly well with his long legs clad in black pants, and a classy vest over a ruffled white shirt. You hate seeing other designs before a show, but god, were you glad you’d visited Givenchy to meet Johnny. 
But you’re relieved even, that Jaehyun isn’t here. You don’t have the strength to face him anyway, all your energy directed into this chasm of whatever you’d call six months of effort. You want to call yourself accomplished. You want to be proud of yourself.
So this time, you remember all twenty-six minutes of it.
God, they look so beautiful up there, when they’re being looked at, seen for what they are—you’ll never get over it. There’s still hardly much to remember, except this time you’re happy to do it all over again. Effort only exists if it’s acknowledged.
It settles in quite a while later, the weight of all you’d done. You could almost cry, but that’s better left to pillows and the unrelenting skies above a midnight-coated rooftop. This is your moment. For once, you’re anything but afraid. 
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Afterparties are still not your thing. 
However, you had your nicest outfit picked out and Lee Taeyong’s fancy, themed afterparties are something notorious among your colleagues. You’ve heard designers tend to go all out, wearing the best things they’ve designed even if it makes them a little embarrassed to be wearing their own work.
You feel a sigh leave your lips as you finally find a place to sit, your earlier conversations leaving you drained of social energy. You don’t feel alien—it’s strange—and their compliments feel almost warm. The music playing over the speakers is something, you’re sure, from a 60’s American movie, and while it has its own strange allure, the champagne gives you a larger dose of relief. 
In fact, if you’re not mistaken, it’s quite like the ballroom in Paris, although significantly smaller. Burgundy wallpaper and lit up crystals hanging in hexagonal shapes across the ceiling—it’d look lovely on a dress too.
Taeyong’s speech, of course, gives you a spike of anxiety with the sudden announcement of his label’s future, a brand now. He smiles on the small podium, everyone admiring his radiance when suddenly he gestures at you, the glass in your hand feeling hotter and hotter.
“…I couldn’t do this without the only designer I felt was up to this—the first designer to work under my brand, as of now…” 
You try not to blush under all the pairs of eyes that turn to you. 
“(name), thank you.” 
Success feels good. Gratitude feels even better.
Everything feels natural, as if a dream gone right. You’re no longer afraid of the world you stepped into, or the accumulation of feelings that molded you into the person you are now. The confidence you so chased after as if it were morphine, you’re going to be keeping an eye on it before it can run away again.
There’s still one little problem to your night of triumph, though. 
Jaehyun hasn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you entered, a conversation yet pending. You already know he looks good in the plainest of T-shirts, so it might be a no-brainer that he looks absolutely stunning in a suit. The crystals lining the lapels of his coat glimmer amidst the crowd he’s gathered. It’s hard to come in contact, however. He’s magnetic, almost formidable in the way he attracts attention, and you know it’s something that comes with being a man of few words. 
“You’re not enjoying the party?” you ask, taking in Jaehyun’s figure on the veranda overlooking the garden. He sits on one of the mahogany chairs, swirling the glass of champagne with a look of indifference coating his eyes and lips.
“I am,” he says, turning to face you. “Needed a short break.”
“I suppose being the most attractive man in the room needs a break,” you say, taking a seat beside him.
A wry laugh leaves his lips, as he lays his eyes on you. “You don’t seem bothered by it though?”
“I believe that pretty is as pretty does,” you say, your lips twitching.
Jaehyun smiles, furrowing his eyebrows yet still. “You think multimillionaire companies are built on things like inner beauty?”
He’s right. What’s inside is beautiful—it’s too idealistic a phrase. You sigh, adjusting your sleeve. It’s a difficult life, walking the runway no one dares to step on. 
I think you’d make that cut too, you want to tell him.
“You know the best thing I got told today?” you ask, diverting the stream of conversation. You think he’s a friend. Even if it could be the champagne talking. Even if you want something more than the innocence of friendship. 
Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Did Cristóbal Balenciaga’s ghost show up to compliment you?”
“No,” you emphasize, laughing at his pronunciation. “It was this girl. A student. Said she wrote an essay about me.”
Jaehyun hums, dimples marking his cheeks. “I didn’t know a student could get you so giddy.”
You laugh, looking down at your hands before resting your gaze on him again. He leans forward in his seat, strands of hair falling over his face from the rest and a contemplating look over his features. He looks much, much different from when you first saw him, and even handsomer, if that were possible. He’s grown up from the awkward boy you saw in the press release pictures of the Saint Laurent Fall Collection—he looks sharp and valiant on front covers, his shoulders broad and his eyes darling. Jaehyun is still unironically the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. He might even be one of the sweetest, inside out. 
You look to his lips, full as ever. Perhaps you have something to confess. Secrets aren’t meant to be kept so long.
“Jaehyun,” you call, bringing his attention before faltering. It’s not like you’re the only one fawning over his smile. You get up instead, excusing yourself. “I’ll see you inside I suppose.”
“You know I like you, right?”
You turn around. “What?”
Jaehyun gets up, brushing his suit and fixing the lapels. The gentle night haze and the contrasting calls of the brightly lit party inside brush over an effect you’ve never felt before. “I…I like you. It’s pretty straightforward, I think.”
You deny it, or rather, some repressed little emotion inside you denies it vehemently. “Jaehyun, really. I admit I was a complete asshole to you and- was…kind of you to accompany me that night but—”
“Stop. Don’t- Don’t call that kind. You’re not seeing the full picture.”
You stand there, unsure of what to do as you feel your chest grow warmer. Jaehyun turns his head upwards, letting out an audible breath. You can see conflict on his face, the struggle of someone still mulling over the perfect words.
“I don’t hate you. I never really hated you even if I wanted to.”
You suppose it wouldn’t be the right time to say that you might have indulged in that.
“I did,” you confess. “I hated you for a very, very long time, Jaehyun.”
“I know,” he whispers, looking straight at you. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging—”
“Jaehyun, I don’t care about that,” you say, your voice rising, “You told me you felt suffocated in bow ties and laughed when I asked if you wanted to run away with me. I just ended up thinking you were a goddamn liar.”  
“Fine,” he says quietly in his baritone timbre, sounds of the chatter from inside numbing away. “Then let me be honest.”
“When I met you, I thought there was someone like me doing just the same—so…suddenly in the midst of everything. Even if you were a complete asshole to me. You were still real.”
He phrases it delicately, lilting, as if that hasn’t been your whole purpose here.  He’s only a breath away from you, but you don’t want to push him away this time. There’s a moment’s pause.
“Between work and myself, which is more important? For once, I thought I could answer that question.”
Your breaths are soft and shallow as they fall, trying to understand his words.
“And then you just fucking stopped. You stopped flying out and I’d barely see you outside of Seoul like you- like you gave up or something. I didn’t understand—what happened to you?”
Jaehyun looks at you with a hardened expression, ears turning red as if he hadn’t expected this outburst of truth. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. It’s not like him to open his mouth and let out words that are raw and honest; it makes you feel the weight even more. You were still kids that night. You’re not anymore.
“Jaehyun,” you whisper before reaching your hand out and placing it against his cheek.
It’s so hard to not take in the details. The prominence of the muscle by his mouth when he speaks, the fine lines by his nose which appear sporadically or the look of complete reverence in his eyes when he’s staring at you like this—everything those runway shots can’t possibly capture. Your eyes trail to his lips, your own drawn to it with a desire you don’t know how to comprehend—and don’t quite wish to, either.
You want to believe he made the first move but you give in so easy, it’s alarming. Your lips move against his in a rhythm new and frantic, his hands gripping you with full strength at the waist and you part your lips to allow a deeper kiss. Your hands are free to roam his perfectly styled hair, tousling it in a fashion that makes him groan, only to push you harder against the wall. 
“I should’ve- I should’ve let you kiss me that night,” he mumbles against your lips. “Maybe I…I wouldn’t have made you hate me.”
“Maybe you should shut up and kiss me right now,” you respond, your tongue pressing against his, effectively doing the job.
It’s not difficult to see stars when his hips press against yours, his hand resting on one thigh to pull it up slightly. You feel the impact of it head-on, almost moaning out loud when his fingers press harder against the back of your thigh.
“Tell me- Tell me you want this,” he breathes out when he breaks the kiss.
You respond with reconnecting your lips, your tongue sliding against his in fervent affirmations. You’ve already forfeited your modesty, there’s no reason to stop.
You leave early, getting into the car you’d booked for the night. It would be far more embarrassing were it not for the separation between the front and backseats, when Jaehyun’s hands are up your clothes and his lips rough against your neck. The lip colour has smudged by the side of Jaehyun’s lips, a short giggle escaping you when you notice. It’s not enough to halt the kissing, or feeling each other up —something that feels long overdue. You try to keep your sounds to a minimum but Jaehyun seems to not care about things as worthless as shame, at least for the moment.
“Well, you’re about as graceful as a sea lion when you’re off the runway,” you hiss when Jaehyun’s teeth prick your skin.
“I haven’t done this in a while,” he responds in a low tone, the rest of his retort pushed away by his lips against your mouth.
You don’t have time to take in the details of Jaehyun’s apartment because he’s already carrying you to the bed, your legs around his waist and continuing to kiss you as if making up for something. All those years, you could have been doing this. Maybe you do have some regrets.
The material of his dress shirt feels expensive but clothes are not what you need right now. His phone rings once but he drags a finger over it to reject the call, his mouth still pressing against your collarbone. The only sounds you hear are rugged breathing and you fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as you pull it over his shoulders. The city lights below you reach through the drawn curtains, all the unrelenting complicacies left behind in those faraway streets.
Jaehyun makes a sound of annoyance at the phone ringing yet again. He breaks apart from you, receiving the call while his fingers massage his temple.
“Hyung, I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later—”
“I was just wondering where you disappeared and you don’t even grace me with a hello?” Johnny’s voice rings clear in the all too silent bedroom.
“Wait a minute.” There’s a pause within which Jaehyun seems to tense up. “Are you fucking? Like did you leave the party to get la—”
“Hyung. I’m hanging up.” 
The coral pink spread over his ears is almost as pretty as the look of pure annoyance over his face.
“Didn’t happen,” you complete, giggling. If someone were to tell you’d be seeing Jaehyun like this a few months ago, you wouldn’t know whether to be embarrassed or exhilarated.
You place your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him into another kiss.
Sex is barely ever beautiful—even if it’s Jung Yoonoh over you, planting kisses from your mouth to jaw, neck to chest and whispering sweet, delicious words against each part. He certainly knows how to use that tongue of his, better than you’d expect from a boy so pristine.
It doesn’t matter if it’s not beautiful, when it’s just like a slow dance—in shared solace and love out of time. You bite your lips to stop smiling too often for it to feel as serious and indifferent as all the other times. Sometimes you feel Jaehyun grinning into the crook of your neck, the giddiness of love taking over the movement of your hips against his. The perfect anatomy of his, paired with his candied words makes you think that maybe you do fit together.
Jaehyun pushes into you at a steady pace, your fingers digging into his back and over his shoulder blades only to draw out sounds more pleasing to your ears. You let someone else take charge for once, his praising whispers of ‘that’s my baby’ or ‘you just look so good’ far too teasing but he follows through, your body barely able to respond apart from shaking and shuddering till you reach your high. 
The sound of skin against skin dies down well into the night and you get cleaned, still blissed out from making the summit of all your senses. It’s warm inside, despite turning the air conditioner on.
“Jaehyun,” you call, lowering yourself to press a quick kiss to his lips. 
“Hm?” He gives you a drowsy smile, arm under his head and hair sticking to his forehead funny.
“Did you really not hate me? Not even once?” You rest your cheek against your palm as you lie beside him.
Even under the dim lights, it’s not hard to spot the blush on him when he positively glows. Jaehyun reminds you of warm auburn and the touch of cool satin—it’s easy to make things, find inspiration in love.
“Oh my god, you were lying!” you accuse, sitting up straight. “There’s no way you didn’t hate me. I called your modeling as good as a coconut’s!”
“As you so love to remind me,” he mumbles.
There’s a brief moment before the two of you crack up, his deep laughter perfectly mismatched with yours. There’s hardly many sounds on the eighteenth floor, but maybe you’ve always been yearning for this privacy—this proximity in shared laughter and warm touches. 
“No, I didn’t,” Jaehyun answers your question after it’s quiet once again. “I thought...I think you’re…”
Jaehyun trails off, his eyes flickering over your face before fixing on your lips as his own tug into a smile. He gulps. “I think we’d be in trouble if the paparazzi saw us throwing choice words at each other, don’t you think? You were barely out of school then.”
“Me?” You laugh. “You were thinking about me?”
“And a little bit about me.” 
You fall asleep against Jaehyun’s chest with the certainty of kinder tomorrows, a thing he teaches you through whispers against the pillow and fingers playing with your hair. There’s something private in the way he holds your face, something delicate and homely running from his long fingers to his flushed knuckles and the rest of his hand as it presses against your cheek. It’s warm here, and safe, and maybe home is where the heart is, after all.
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“Really? You’re not even a little bit sad I’m leaving?” you ask, placing your hand over your heart. “Who’s going to help you when you’re getting bullied in the workplace now?”
Doyoung huffs in annoyance, placing the box down beside the moving truck. “You’re the only one who bullies me in the workplace.”
You adjust the ugly baseball cap on your head, the one Jaehyun had pulled over your head in an attempt to stop you from complaining about his messy apartment. You hadn’t realized you’d worn it all the way to Seoul till the articles about your questionable choice of accessories had surfaced.
“Your boyfriend’s calling,” Doyoung says, making a face as he picks your phone up from the box near him. “I can’t even believe this. All those years of flirting and—”
You snatch it from him, glaring at him for the choice of words. He raises his hands defensively, rolling his eyes at your sudden movement.
“Are you sure you don’t want me flying to Seoul?”
“Unless you’re planning to work in a truck rental.”
You hear Jaehyun laugh on the other side of the line. Is it normal to have blood rush straight from your chest to your ears at the sound of laughter? You hope that doesn’t change.
You’d visited him a day before your flight. It hasn’t been all that long but Jaehyun certainly makes it out to be, just so he can use his cheesy one-liners. You try not to smile thinking about how he had flung his hair band out, immediately tousling his hair back into a pretty mess and struggling to keep a straight face when you’d visited out of the blue. Jaehyun wakes up at one in the afternoon when his schedule is empty and it had appalled you enough to help him out with basic chores before you left. (It didn’t end well. He kept putting his chin on your shoulder and sneaking his arms around you while you did the dishes.)
“(name)? (name), are you daydreaming again?” 
You sigh. “You can’t wait three more days, Jae? It’s, what, one in the morning there!”
“Do you want me saying something cheesy?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I don’t think I can sleep without waking up to your face.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, unable to grace him with a response. The dreamy languor in his voice is more than recognizable and if you’re not mistaken, he’s going to be saying something highly inappropriate.
“Do you know what dream I had last night?” he asks, the smile almost evident with how suggestive it sounds.
“Jaehyun, no,” you warn before lowering your voice. “I swear if it’s another dirty dream—”
“Come home and I’ll tell you all about it. With demonstrations.”
This time you can’t help the laughter, trying to mask it with a cough only to fail. You push the back of your hand against your cheek in order to soothe the involuntary blush. Your perfume smells just like him, and you realize suddenly why he’d gifted it to you.
“That definitely makes me want to leave faster,” you quip.
“I certainly hope so.”
It’s different now, especially if you remember your feelings just last February. Change feels easy for the first time in your life. You check off your list of items, counting the boxes as they’re lifted onto the truck. It took a good amount of thinking, and a bunch of fights before you could decide. New York isn’t so bad. Not when you have reason to be there. You’d like to call it love.
A list of things you do appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.
4K notes · View notes
whereisten · a year ago
Cat and Mouse
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | more coming soon
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Summary: You’re the daughter of an extremely well-known pastor. You’ve lived a quiet and sheltered life, that is until you meet and fall in lust with a gang leader they call the Grim Reaper.
Pairing: Gang Leader And Yandere!Taeyong X female reader (college student)
Genre: angst, SMUT, violence, if you squint there may be some fluff
Warnings: graphic and violent scenes described, mentions of religious practices (this in no way is meant to offend followers of Christianity), blood and death mention, gun and knife mention, profanity, toxic relationship, little alcohol use, drug addiction themes, stalking, manipulation, corruption kink, innocence kink, female masturbation, pet names, recording of sexual act, porn mention, oral sex (male and female), public sex, unprotected sex.
Word Count: 15.8K
(A/n: warning: Yandere Taeyong is extremely manipulative, he guilt trips and gaslights OC multiple times to get what he wants. This in no way represents the cute and kind Taeyong we really know. This gang leader is actually terrible lmao. TO the anon that requested this, THANK YOU for being so patient!! not my best,but I hope you like it!)
It was just another Thursday night at home. Your parents left earlier that evening to go on a cruise to the Bahamas to celebrate their anniversary so you had the entire house to yourself.
Your father was a famous and wealthy pastor with money to afford an incredible mansion and luxury cars. Most people didn’t understand how someone that preached about humility and giving back to the less fortunate could live in a twenty bedroom house with a twelve car garage.
There was a certain irony behind it that pissed people off.
 Taeyong was one of them. Taeyong and his gang had been watching the pastor, plotting for a robbery. He hated everything about religion and the fact that a man, such as your father, was capitalizing off of the hearts of devoted Christians irritated him. He wanted to take everything away from the pastor that lived in his community because he felt like he was the real criminal. Furthermore, your father never told you or your mother, but some of his wealth did come from his involvement in gangs and the drug trading that occurred in the community. He would use the churchgoers money to purchase large amounts of cocaine from other countries, then sell it on the black market at triple times the street rate. This was sold to business men that had money to spend and just needed their fix, regardless of the cost. The means at which they got their drugs was safer than getting it off the streets anyway. Your father funded the dark web website that almost functioned like the Amazon for drug trades, order today, get it tomorrow with “prime” shipping. Taeyong didn’t like that someone with a good reputation like your father had controlled such a large business. But he also didn’t like that his men were the ones that organized the deals on the website with little reward. They put their lives on the line to get it to these men, avoiding the police at all costs, but your father was behind on paying his workers by five months. Taeyong threatened him several times, but the pastor blocked his phone number and email. What he didn’t know was that Taeyong has access to all of his emails and text messages anyway, so he knew that your father would be gone on a twelve day cruise to the Bahamas. Taeyong took this as the perfect opportunity to drop by his house and well, “borrow” a few things. He knew that the pastor had a daughter, but what he didn’t know was that you’d be home from college for summer break. So there you are, flipping through channels, trying to find something to watch when you stumble across the late-night adult channels. Your thumb hovered over the “up” button as you watched a woman have sex with a man on a fluffy bed. Your eyes widened at how graphic it was. The blonde lady’s was making strange faces while the man held her legs and pushed into her.
You were a sheltered child, you didn’t even have your first kiss, so this was strange to you.
You had been taught the typical Christian rules of not having sex until marriage, but you wondered what it was like. You bit your lips and felt a certain warmth in between your legs that you couldn’t explain as you watched the TV.
You went to a Christian college, but many of the girls there had already lost their virginity and would talk about how they had sex with their boyfriends and touched themselves.
You didn’t even know what the girls at school meant when they talked about vibrators driving them crazy since their boyfriend couldn’t get them off. How could someone use a device to have sex when they were supposed to be in love with whoever touches that area? You’d think to yourself. But you were getting older and curiosity was killing you. You wanted to know about it, you wanted to rebel and feel what most of your friends felt all the time. If everyone can do it and still go to Heaven, why couldn’t you? The scene ended and the next thing you saw was a naked brunette laying on the bed, her back against a tall man. He rubbed his hands along her private area and then dipped two fingers into her. Your jaw dropped and your head turned, this had all looked strange and weird. You were so focused on the TV in your living room that you didn’t hear the front door open, nor the shuffling of several people in the large house. 
You had forgotten to activate the security system for the night, so the cameras weren’t on and neither were the alarms. You were so used to being home alone that you never thought there’d be someone in it with you
You didn’t hear or feel a presence behind the couch. Taeyong stopped in the living room while his gang searched through the house for jewelry and a safe. He watched you and your facial expressions as you watched porn for the first time. He knew that you had no experience at all from the look on your face. You licked your lips and told yourself that it was time. You put your hand in your Rilakkuma pajamas and pressed your finger tips on your folds, you tried to mimic the way in which his fingers dipped in, but it was difficult. There was a weird wall that stopped you and a sharp pain that shot through you when you pushed too hard. You whimpered and opened your legs a little more on the couch, shifting in your seat to get comfortable. There had to be a way, you thought to yourself. Taeyong looked watching you. You were so innocent and cute. He liked the idea that a pastors daughter was trying to pleasure herself on the family couch. He smirked to himself at first, but was turned on by the sight of your widening legs and your moving hand. You had finally found the right spot and started to circle your fingers while pushing them inside you. You closed your eyes and furrowed your brows while you started to breathe harder. The feeling of your insides growing wet was weird, but good. Taeyong watches your mouth open and your head fall back on the couch, your soft, high pitched moans sounded like music to his ears. He had completely forgotten about why he was there. His brain became foggy and he licked his lips which were covered by the skull masks they always wore during robberies. You were unlike any girl he’d seen before, you were soft, pure and beautiful. You wiped the sweat forming on your forehead as you got closer with your other hand.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind the couch, still drinking in the wet sounds you made with your fingers and the loud groans you made. It was then that he felt his heart grow an attachment to you. He knew that he wanted to ruin you, pollute you, show you all the things that a sheltered Christian girl never knew about. The fact that you were the daughter of the pastor he despises was the icing on the cake. 
He was breathing heavily as he watched you get off on your fingers.
He had a habit of becoming obsessed with things until he got them and eventually grew tired of them, and he knew that you’d become one of these things. He wouldn’t stop until you were his. His phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. It was a text from Haechan. Haechan: found the safe in the bedroom on the third floor, need a code. Taeyong smirked to himself. His boys always found things fast. Out of all the bedrooms in this extravagant house and they found the one with the safe in it. Brilliant. But now they needed a code.
Taeyong hadn’t found anything about a code in his emails or text messages. He thought of all the possibilities and closed his eyes. What was the code? Your moans still flooded his brain as he tried to focus and think hard so they could get out of there.
“Oh my God!” You cried out and his eyes flickered open.
You. It was you. He walked around the couch and stood in front of you while your eyes were still closed. You felt a presence in front of you and your eyes opened. You took your hand out of your pants quickly and screamed. A man with dark red hair and a terrifying skull mask stood over you and tilted his head.
He wore a black long sleeve shirt with a harness around it and black cargo pants tucked into black boots. You breathed heavily and held your head while closing your legs and pushing your body up on the couch. “Take whatever you want! I won’t tell anyone!” The man only stared at you and watched your eyes tear up. “Please, I don’t know why you’re hear but if it’s for money, I don’t have any and I don’t know where my dad keeps it. Please just let me live!” You begged. The man finally took his mask off and held it in his hand. He was unbelievably handsome. He had an eyebrow slit and a hoop in the center of his bottom lip along with several piercings in his ears. You could see the end of a long tattoo on his neck that led up to a jawline that he could certainly cut you with. His eyes were dark and striking. He was overall perfection. You felt the heat in your cheeks rise when he smiled down at you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, sweetheart, but I need something from you.” The man’s voice was deep and shook your body. You shook your head. Why would he let you see his face? Surely, he was gonna kill you after you gave him what he wanted. “I-I don’t have anything!” He stepped closer to you and held out his hand. “Stand up and give me your hand.” You did as he demanded and gave him the dry hand. He shook his head. “The other one. The one you touched yourself with.” You furrowed your brows. “N-no, I wasn’t touching myself!” You panicked and turned to the TV. “I was just..flipping through and-and I just stopped on this channel but I was gonna change it before your stopped me!” Taeyong only smiled wider and took your hand that you tried to hide. He held it up and looked at it before looking back to you. You tried to pull it away but he was stronger. He took your index and middle finger and put it in his mouth while looking into your eyes. You found it hard to look away, your mouth dropped as you felt his tongue lick in between and around your fingers. He took your fingers out and rubbed the tips along his lips while closing his eyes. “’re just as sweet as I imagined.” You pulled your hand away and looked at the strange man. “W-What the hell is wrong with you?” Taeyong only smiled. He was about to say something when a voice called out from the hallway. “Taeyong! I don’t have any leads on the safe code!” There was another man with him. Taeyong looked to the hallway and was distracted for a split second, so you pushed him away from you and ran towards the other end of the house. Taeyong was caught off guard, but chuckled lightly while you ran. Johnny walked up beside Taeyong. “Who the fuck is that? And where’s your mask?” “The bastard’s daughter. She wants to play a game of cat and mouse.” Taeyong smirked. “Do you want us to kill her?” Johnny asked. “No, she’s mine. Bring her to me unharmed.” The rest of his men ran after you after Taeyong said that. You tried to find somewhere to hide, the front door was too far away and the patio was on the other side.. You cursed this house for being so big for no reason. You ran up the stairs and heard multiple footsteps follow you. You breathed heavily, dashing into a bedroom and locking the door. You stepped away from the door and looked around for an exit. You couldn’t jump out the window, you’d break your legs. Hiding in the closet wouldn’t help. You heard the door handle being fiddled with. They found you. “Open the door! We’re not gonna hurt you!” A voice yelled out. You panted and looked around. You looked above you and saw the vent. You glanced back at the door when you heard the man trying to break it down by slamming his body into it. You quickly lifted yourself up on the dresser below the vent and jumped up. You had to tip toe to pull the door of the vent open, but once you did, you raised your arms above your head and tried to pull yourself up into it. Thank God for the upper body strength you had. You were halfway inside when the door finally broke down and the men entered. “Hey!” The man ran up to you and grabbed your dangling legs. “No!” You cried out and tried to pull yourself away, but the man was too strong. You fell down through the hole and into the man’s arms. He also wore a skull mask, but was much larger than the man in your living room. You looked around and saw three other men surrounding you. Two of which had a bats in their hands. You couldn’t escape. “Don’t kill me please!” You cried out again. The tall man threw you on to the bed. “I would’ve killed you a long time ago if I wanted to, sweetie. But the grim reaper wants you alive.” “The who?” You scurried and held yourself up with your elbows behind you. “What do you want?” You cried out. Then you saw the red haired man calmly walk through the crowd of men in front of you. It was him, he was the grim reaper. You could tell because of the way he commanded the room as he walked in calmly and quiet;y, but still looked deadly. 
His feline-like eyes narrowed in on you, making you feel small. “Oh little mouse, where you going?” He sat at the edge of the bed. “Don’t be scared.” He tried to calm you down. “I’ll make you a deal..” he started while wiping away a tear that ran down your cheek. “If you tell me the code..I’ll let you live and I won’t tell anyone, not even your father, what sin you committed tonight.” You cried and sniffled. “I..promise..I don’t know it.” Taeyong smiled wickedly. “I know you don’t know it..but what’s your birthday?” You were hesitant to share that information because if that was the code, your family would lose everything in that safety these strange men, but you couldn’t let your parents know that you touched yourself and committed such a tragic crime in a Christian household, they’d be so disappointed. You swallowed hard. “April fifteenth.” Two of the men ran out of the room while Taeyong smiled. “Thank you.”
He turned to the other men. “Leave us.” Once they left, he turned back to you. You jumped when he touched your leg. He took out a switch blade and you saw the twinkling reflection of a sharp knife. He ran it along your neck while you breathed heavily.
You shivered at the feeling of the cold blade on your skin. “What were you really doing little mouse, don’t lie to me and you might just live.” You exhaled and closed your teary eyes. 
“Yes, I was watching porn..I-I’ve never had sex, I haven’t even touched myself before tonight..I feel like a loser and I wanted to know what it’s like. Please don’t kill me.” You were surprised to hear so much come out of your mouth to a complete stranger. But he made you nervous. “I see.” he glanced down to your lips. “Well, it would be a shame to kill you before you can experience this.” Taeyong almost pities you, the innocent and sheltered girl, while he drags the knife down your sweaty arm. “I’ll let you know my name’s Taeyong and those are my men. Your father pissed us off so we’re coming to take what’s ours.” He looked into your eyes before continuing. 
“When they ask you what happened, tell them that you don’t know, you were out for ice cream and when you returned home, you saw that someone had broken in.” His low voice made your eyes widen. “I’ll let you live, and for tonight, we’ll take the money and jewelry. But I’ll be back for you, little mouse.” 
You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but he put a finger on your lips. “Don’t tell anyone or I’ll kill your mother first, sweetheart. Nod like a good girl if you understand.” You nodded quickly and watched as the strange man took his finger away and left the room. You laid there, terrified and shaking. You listened to the men yelling and laughing as the destroyed the house. You heard glass break and paintings being destroyed while you cried. You got up slowly when you heard the shuffling stop and walked downstairs. The place was a mess, they not only ravaged through your place, but broke everything. Your father never made anyone upset. He made everyone happy and at peace with his sermons. How could he upset these men? What did he do? You pulled out your phone and called him. “Hello? Dad?” You sniffled. “I-I just came home..and there’s been a robbery.” You felt bad for lying to your parents but you had to, who knows what Taeyong would do if he found out you told the truth. Part of you was terrified by him, but another part was interested for some reason. 
Was it the way he looked at you through lustful eyes and the power he commanded over the room? Or the fact that he lived a completely different lifestyle from you and was the typical “bad boy?” ————— A few weeks later and things return to normal. Your dad didn’t lose too much, and you found it weird that he wasn’t more upset than he was. But he claimed that he was just glad that you weren’t home when the savages came. The robbery made headlines and thousands of church guests donated to the rebuilding of your house and life. In public, your parents cried and thanked everyone endlessly, but in private they were all giggles. Something didn’t feel right, and the whole thing made you look at them differently. “Can you believe that we ended up with more than we lost?” Your dad laughed one evening when the three of you had dinner. “Yeah, the community really is amazing when they work together to help people.” You mom took a bite of her caviar. “Shouldn’t we give it back then?” You interrupted. Your dad wiped his mouth. “Now, why would we do that? This is a gift from God, we must embrace it and yes, we will use our voices and our power as role models in the community to help others, but we need not put the money we’ve been given back out there. This is all for a greater cause, y/n.” You nodded and looked back at your salad. ————— The weeks following the robbery felt weird. You always felt like someone was watching you. Taeyong’s dark gaze was both alluring and terrifying and the fact that he had watched you touch yourself only made you more paranoid. You were embarrassed, yes, but he made you about it. It was a strange feeling and you didn’t understand why part of you liked it. Taeyong was watching you. He would watch you as you went to dinner with your parents or shopped in Target. He was always there. He couldn’t let you go, and he knew he needed more. Your purity and soft expressions contradicted everything about himself, that’s why he liked you. And to see you being curious about sexual feelings sent him overboard. You had everything he didn’t have, in terms of wealth and status, but he also had experiences you’d never dreamt of. He knew ways in which to shatter your perfect world and innocent nature. He’d sit on his motorcycle and watch you skip around in your cute plaid skirts, frilly knee highs and button up blouses and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to ruin you. You are simply being yourself and living a life free of worries and sin, and he wanted to change that. One day when you went to tennis practice, he decided to watch you play. He wanted to hurt the tennis coach when she hit you with a high speed tennis ball on your thigh. You cried out and dropped to the floor, but the coach only scolded you for being too slow.
It took everything in him to not pull his gun out. Nonetheless, you got up and tried harder.
He felt the heat in his chest rise as he watched your glistening and sweaty skin peak out from under your white tennis skirt and on the tops of your breasts in your sports bra. 
You were breathing heavily, your mouth was swollen from you biting your lips while you played intensely, your eyes dark and low, and you drank so much water, some droplets escaped and dripped down your chin and neck. His impure thoughts drove him wild and he knew he had to talk to you again. And so, when you walked home after he practice, he cornered you. You smiled and thanked the barista at Starbucks for your drink before turning to head out the door.
The tennis court was only a few blocks away from your house so you decided to walk home while drinking an iced caramel macchiato, probably not the best choice for post-workout session, but it made you happy. You sucked your straw while looking at your phone, but when you left the Starbucks you heard a voice call out to you. “Do you think Serena drinks caramel macchiatos after practice?” The low voice said. You slowly turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened. It’s him, the red haired man that broke into your house now leaned against the wall and eyed you up and down. You suddenly felt naked in your tight tennis uniform. You nearly dropped your drink as you stepped back slowly. “W-What are you doing here?” “What? A gang leader can’t enjoy a drink from Starbucks?” He took a long sip of his iced coffee while watching you intensely. “Were you watching me?” “I told you I’d be back, little mouse.” He walked closer to you.
“Take a ride with me.” He tilted his head to a motorcycle that stood beside the sidewalk.
You looked at it, then back at him. He wore a red high collar shirt and black jeans ripped at the knees. A pair of round sunglasses on his face made him look cool and relaxed. It was incredibly hot outside but he still wore dark clothing and black boots. The worst part was that you felt an aching in your chest at the sight of his toned arms, tattoos and piercings. “I-I have to go home.” Taeyong raised his slit eyebrow and threw his empty cup away. 
He smirked. “It wasn’t a question. Get on.” What could you do? The man surely would’ve killed you if you ran away. So you let him help you get on his motorcycle. Nervous but eager to see where he was taking you. You got on and held onto his small waist. 
To your surprise, Taeyong took you to the summer fair. “The fair? Really?” You looked up at the big sign above you as you two walked in. Taeyong didn’t pay, he only brushed past the guards and ticketing workers as he nodded at them. “What are we doing here? And how did you get us in for free?” You asked all the important questions but Taeyong only smirked and chuckled. “So many questions..” He took your hand in his and took you to the first rollercoaster he saw. “I’ve been meaning to visit this place, but never had someone to go with.” Taeyong watched your face as you looked on the intimidating rollercoaster. He saw your worried eyes and slightly parted lips, the way your hands gripped the metal barricade in front of you as you waited to be called on. “Are you nervous?” He asked, his tone a bit softer. You turned to him and looked into his concerned eyes. “Why do you care? It’s not like I can back out without you killing me.” Taeyong’s smile dropped and he put a hand on your shoulder. 
“Oh, little mouse, you don’t need to be worried about that, I’d never kill you..” He stepped closer and your breathing stopped as he looked down on you with those sharp, magnetic eyes.
“But I will make you suffer forcing you to go on a rollercoaster.” His straight face turned into a bright smile as he winked. He was confusing. Scary at some points, but attractive at other times. And his words made no sense, was he messing with you?
And why didn’t you call the police or your parents? What was this control Taeyong had over you? You brain screamed danger but your heart was being pulled in. You wanted to know what a dangerous lifestyle was like for once. You wanted to stop living a “simple” life.
He watched you the entire ride, laughing as you screamed during the long dips and swift turns. You looked at him and hit his side with a small fist. 
“Hey! It’s not funny.” You went on the Twister and a few other rides with him, laughing and smiling at each other like a regular couple. He even used his shooting skills to win you a Hello Kitty plush bear.
No one would’ve known that you were brought there against your will, or that the crazy man was a gang leader. He took your hand in his as you walked to the food truck area. “How’s your leg?” “Wait, you saw that?” You held your head with your other hand, too focused on the question to notice the strange way you two walked together holding hands. You looked up at him but he only looked forward, avoiding your gaze. “I like you, little mouse, and we both know you have never had a boyfriend, right?” The question nearly made you stop walking. “N-no.” You whispered, a bit embarrassed that you, a college student, never dated someone. Taeyong smiled to himself. Perfect. Everything was falling in line for him. “Well, little mouse, that’s what people do when they like someone, they’re always there to watch and support their significant other. How would I know that you were hurt and needed some fun if I didn’t stalk you a little?” Something didn’t feel right, but Taeyong’s eyes were softer as he talked to you, he rubbed a hand on your arm and gave you a small smile. 
Why did part of you want to trust him? Was it because you knew nothing about love and how people show it? Taeyong was teaching you more than anyone else did about relationships and you appreciated that.
So you brushed off the bad feeling you had and looked down at your thigh. “Well, I do have a bruise, but I’ll be fine. Thank you for taking me here.”
You were surprised that he cared, but you didn’t think it weird that he was there watching you in the first place.
He only smiled and took your hand again. “I’m glad you appreciate my efforts, you can make it up to me later.” He winked. You were in line for a smoked turkey leg, and you wanted to know more about the strange man in front of you that suddenly couldn’t stop smiling.
“Okay but why me?”
Taeyong didn’t shuffle through his wallet for cash like everyone else did. He only clicked his tongue and waited for the chef to nod. He turned back to you. “Because you’re the only girl I have my eyes on..because I feel bad for breaking into your parents’ place.” You scoffed and furrowed your brows. “Oh really? You think this makes up for that?” “Come on, y/n, you and I both know your parents made even more than they lost. So in a way, I kinda helped you guys.” His eyes never let go of you while he bit into the turkey leg and chewed a large chunk of it. You rolled your eyes and couldn’t help but smile. How did things end up this way? Who was this man? “Are you happy you came with me?” He asked with a full mouth. “I had a good time, but I still don’t understand what you want from me.” You looked around nervously. He swallowed hard and handed you the leg. “Have you ever had a smoked turkey leg?” You shook your head. “No.” He scoffed. “Try it.”
You took a bite out of the leg and your eyes widened at the explosion of flavor. It was so good, it tasted cheap, yes, but the Smokey flavor was unlike anything you’d ever had.
“There’s so much..that you haven’t experienced yet..I just want to show you the world you don’t know, will you let me do that?” You nodded without thinking it through. What was the catch? “Yes, my parents have kept me sheltered and protected, and..I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know about most things..that the average person knows about.” You went on a tiny rant, but Taeyong already knew this.
He was captivated by the way you chewed and how your round cheeks filled up with even the tiniest bites of food. Your round eyes dazzled in the sunlight and your lips formed a small pout. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” You looked down and were about to shake your head but Taeyong lifted your chin with his free hand and leaned down to your face. The handsome man placed a long kiss on your lips while your eyes were wide open. This was all so sudden, but you didn’t pull away. You liked it, you had finally been kissed. When he raised his head you looked up at him innocently. “W-What was that?” “I’m sorry, I had to.” He stepped closer to you and gave you a questioning look. “Do you like me, y/n?” You had just gotten to know this man and he was already asking if you liked him. Your sheltered and nervous mind screamed ‘no’ at first, but damn it you wanted to do something different. 
You wanted to live like everyone else did. You felt things you never felt before in your short time with Taeyong and you weren’t sure if it was love, but you knew it was different. 
Taeyong was probably not the best choice for your first “love,” the man was a killer and leader of a dark life, but you wanted to experience everything he was willing to show you. So, you dove in.
“Yes.” You nodded and looked into his eyes. He smirked. “Then you should kiss me back, but open your mouth this time.” You were hesitant, but Taeyong leaned down to you and kissed you again. This time, you felt his tongue on your lips. You slowly opened your mouth and felt it enter. He held your head in his hands as he turned his own and found your tongue. You lifted it and felt your eyes shut while you enjoyed this new feeling. He guided the kiss, playing with your tongue and licking your lips whenever he pulled away to breathe.
You loved the feeling and put your arm around his neck to pull him back towards you. Your chest rose up and down rapidly while you kissed him and his hands found your waist. He brought you closer to his hot body as you placed a hand on his chest lightly. Taeyong felt light headed when you were close to him like this. The feeling of your soft, round lips finally on his made his heart flutter. You were all his. He couldn’t think of anything but you. When you pulled away from him you looked up to see him biting his lips and blushing. “You did so well. Did you like that?” He held your chin and rubbed it with his thumb. “Yes.” That was all you could say as you thought of how good his lips and tongue felt on yours. Everything felt magical during the sunset. The lights behind his head and the gathering of more people around you. Everything felt warm. Then, reality set in.
“It’s getting dark, I have to go home.” He nodded and took your hand. “Let’s go.” You were walking past the tables by the food trucks as Taeyong held your hand. A man sitting at one of the tables stuck is foot out at the last second, making your trip and fall halfway down before Taeyong caught you and held you up. The men laughed and looked at your skirt, trying to catch a glimpse of your underwear. You both turned to them while you brushed yourself off. “Sorry dear..” the man started. “but I suggest wearing shorts next time.” The man and everyone at his table burst into laughter while you felt the heat in your cheeks rise. Taeyong came up behind you and stepped in front. The man looked up and wiped his teary eyes.
“Oh look, it’s the grim reaper himself. I’m sorry for tripping your angel of a girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes. Taeyong was silently boiling. How dare someone touch you and laugh at you. He tilted his head before placing both hands on the table. “Which hand do you use to play with your dick, you fat piece of shit?” Taeyong’s words made you jump as the man raised an eyebrow. He scoffed, “I use both when I’m fucking your girlfriend.” The man let out but before he could take another breath, Taeyong took a knife out from his waist band and stabbed the man through the center of his hand that rested on the wooden table. You covered your mouth and backed away as the blood spewed out from the man’s hand and he screamed out in pain. People nearby screamed too and ran away. Blood decorated Taeyong’s face while the other guys sitting at the table jumped up and ran. 
The man tried to take Taeyong’s hand off of the knife so that he could remove it, but he forced the mans hand away and pulled out another shiny knife, stabbing that hand and pinning the man to the table again. 
More blood spewed onto Taeyong’s face as he laughed. But he didn’t stop there. He dragged the first knife through the man’s hand and up his wrist, cutting it in half with the sharp blade.
“Oh God!! NO!! Stop!! HELP!” The man cried out but no one helped him. Everyone was gone and the food truck workers only shook their heads as they watched. “You’re right, I am the grim reaper.” Taeyong leaned in close to the man’s face and looked him in the eyes with a menacing expression. 
“And guess what? No one can help you. Not even God.” Taeyong said before slicing through his other arm. The man stood up and bled profusely before passing out and falling onto the dirt. You didn’t notice that you started crying in fear. “T-Taeyong?” How could the man you just kissed moments ago become so violent? Was this who he really was? He turned to with a bloody face and smiled. 
“Don’t cry, little mouse, he had it coming.” He walked up to you and tried to hold you with his bloody hands but you stepped back. “Why?” You shook your head as tears fell. “Because I like you! Because he hurt you! Don’t be afraid of me.” He started but you couldn’t stand to be around him, everything felt so wrong. You were hit with the reminder of who he was. 
He wasn’t some sweet gentleman here to show you the beauty of the world, he was a bad person that only knew the dark sides of it. You turned and ran away from him, pushing through the crowd to try to get as far as possible. He would’ve followed you but he knew that it was too much for you. If he had just controlled his anger, he could’ve had his boys handle the man, but he didn’t. He was used to the violence, but he had to give you time. ———— A few weeks past and you didn’t text Taeyong even when he asked you out for lunch. You were scared of him, but part of you missed the feeling he gave you when he was nearby, looking at you fondly, watching your every move. You brushed off your thoughts and visions of him and walked into the practice room for your piano lesson. You always went to piano practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but on this visit, your piano teacher wasn’t present in the choir room you used for your lessons. “Hello?” You called out and looked around “It’s just you and me, little mouse.” “What are you doing here?” Your eyes wide when you recognized the mans voice.
“Well, you didn’t text me back, so I had to come see you.” He stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, this time he wore a gray long-sleeve that clung to his arms. He looked irritated, like he hadn’t slept for days. “Don’t worry, I’ll forgive you if you play something for me.” He stepped closer, but your gripped the strap of your backpack and baked away. “Forgive me for what? You nearly killed a man! What did you expect me to do?” He laughed. But slammed a hand down on the piano. You jumped at the sound. “I expect you to thank me for standing up for you!” 
His voice was loud and husky, his dark eyes looked up at you. You wore a pink short skirt that rested above the middle of your thighs with a thin white button down shirt tucked into it. And of course, those frilly white knee-highs that he loved. “How could you leave me?” He stepped closer to you, making you back into the door of the practice room. You didn’t know what to say, he did defend you even though he scared you. “Don’t you understand that I did that for you? I could’ve been arrested.” Taeyong moved a strand of hair from your face.
You looked up at his lips innocently. You forgot about everything. The only thing you thought about was the feeling of them on you.
You leaned in and kissed him first this time. You missed the feeling and closed your eyes while moaning out lightly.
Taeyong kisses you hard this time, biting your lips before pulling away and kissing your neck. He held your body close to his, focusing on your moans and heavy breathing. But he had to hold himself back, he wasn’t ready to take you yet. He wanted you to beg for him. He took your hand and led you back to the piano. “Sit and play a song for me. Don’t mess it up.” He demanded as you sat down and flipped the pages to the song you had practiced with your teacher. 
You gulped, worried for what might happen in you made a mistake.
He sat beside you and you started to play Piano Sonata No.24 by Beethoven. Despite your hands being shaky, you put your fingers on the keys and played. You started off well but jumped a bit when Taeyong breathy voice entered your ears. He whispered “I remember when I first saw you, you were touching yourself, isn’t that right, little mouse?”
You nodded, and stared straight ahead at the sheet music, finding it difficult to focus on the piece.
“Do you really want to know what it’s like?” He continued. You nodded and your breath hitches in your throat as his large, cold and bruised hands run up your thigh. The touch of his hand on your thighs makes you feel a heat between your legs, much like what you felt that night.
He stops his hand and runs his gun along the inner skin on your thigh instead, running it all the way up to your private area. You gasp at the feeling of a weapon being so close to your core, but Taeyong whispers again and drags the pistol back down to your knee. “Keep playing.” You continued, but missed a beat and picked your hands up off the piano. He inches the gun up your thigh but you continue with the song. A few bars later and you mess up again. He pulls the gun up further. You can’t stop skipping notes and playing incorrect rhythms until the gun finally touched your aching core. You pull your hands away and look at Taeyong who is focused on the device between your legs. “I’m sorry, please don’t kill me.” You beg. “Oh sweet girl, I already told you I’m not gonna kill you. You can leave whenever you want to, don’t want me to stop?” He whispers and continues to rub the gun against your folds.
You grip the piano tightly and shake your head. Everything felt wrong, how could an inanimate object make you feel this way?
“It’s okay, relax.” Taeyong’s deep voice and closeness calmed you down, and you felt the need to embrace this new feeling. You needed to know what others talked about when they talked about sex. “Close your eyes. Focus on the feeling.” He whispered into your neck. His hot breath pushed you along further.
You do as he says and breathe heavily, gasping at the strange, but good feeling you start to have. The cold metal pressing against you through your underwear makes you wet. “Does it feel good? Do you like the feeling of my gun on you, little mouse?” You sigh and nod, biting your lips and grunting as you start to rock your hips. “Why does it feels so good?” “This is what it’s like...I’m gonna make you cum for the first time, sweetheart.” His deep voice echoes in your head. He watches your lips part and your mouth fall open and feels the restraint in his pants. You moan a few more times as he kisses your neck and you move your wet opening against his gun on your own. He listens to your moans get louder, but before you can cum, he removes the gun and stands up from the stool, taking a few steps back and looking down on you as you still sat and breathed heavily, your forehead sweaty and your lips open. “Now, follow my orders, be a good girl.” You nodded, saddened by the withdrawal of his gun for some reason. “Put your hand on your pussy.” He smirked. You shakily lowered your hand. “How does it feel?” “It’s wet..and warm.” You breathily answered. He smiled. “Good, now turn to me and put one leg on each side so that your legs are open, and put your hands out in front.” You moved as he said and jumped slightly at the feeling of the cold leather in between your legs. He put his gun away and took out a switch blade, running it against your thighs, the sharp knife made you chilly. “Lift your skirt and lean back a little, sweetheart.” You moved again as he looked into your eyes while running the blade across the delicate skin of your inner thigh. You bunched your skirt up around your waist as he licked his lips and moved closer. You watched and breathed heavily, unsure of what he’d do next. “My gun made you so wet already, little mouse.” His mouth turned upward into a smirk as he looked at your soaking panties. He used the knife to cut the waist band of your panties and dragged the fabric from under you, making it so that your bare flower was against the smooth leather. “Now, slide forward and backward.” You leaned forward and started to rock your hips back and forth again, but Taeyong wasn’t pleased that you were barely touching the seat. He placed two hands on your shoulders and pressed you down. “Keep moving, yes, just like that little mouse.” He stepped back again.
Your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling and the strange building of liquid under you. You placed your hands in front of you and leaned forward so that your clit rubbed against the chair.
Something was building up in your stomach, you weren’t sure what it was. The aching in your clit made you cry out quietly in the studio. You looked up to see Taeyong recording you with his phone from two feet away. “Unbutton your bra.” “Like this?” You looked up at Taeyong innocently while unbuttoning the top three buttons and still moving back and forth. He nearly lost it when he saw your large eyes through the phone screen. “Yes, sweetheart, and take your boobs out of your bra.” You still held your body as it moved back and forth with one hand in front, but took your boobs out of your bra just like he told you to. “Ah! Cold..” you hissed at the cold air that hugged your breasts once you picked them out. “My nipples..they’re so firm and hard, is that supposed to happen?” Your high pitched and confused voice made Taeyong chuckle. He bit his lips as he watched your boobs jump up and down while you fucked yourself on the stool. “Yes, little mouse, that’s a good thing. Now, move faster.” You swallowed hard and picked up the pace while still holding your breasts. The sounds of your wet entrance against the leather covering filled the air.
You felt weird and raw. You bit your lips to hold back the sounds that wanted to escape your chest. The plush surface of the stool against your folds drove you crazy. How could something so simple make your chest so weak? “Open your mouth, let it out, the louder you are the better you will feel.” Taeyong demanded while still recording you. Your mouth fell open and you were happy to see Taeyong’s approval. Your whines grew louder as your pace increased automatically. “Do you like fucking yourself on the stool?”
You bit your lips and nodded, the strange heat building made your head spin. “Look at the camera and say it, tell me what you’re doing with your sweet pussy.” You opened your eyes and looked the phone. “I’m f-fucking myself with the leather s-seat of a stool.” The words barely left your mouth before the high pitched moans escaped.
“Oh—oh my God.” You whimpered You let go of your boobs and used your both hands in front of you move faster and further down onto the stool.
Taeyong’s pants felt extremely restrictive as he grew. The sight of you slowly losing your innocence made him weak. Your skin was glistening with sweat, your chest moved fast and your full lips stayed open while you cried out the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. “Good girl, are you going to cum?” He huskily let out. “I-I dont know..everything feels weird. But it feels good..” You whined and moaned loudly. “What feels good?” Taeyong’s calm voice let out. “My’s feels so good, Taeyong.” You shut your eyes tightly and moved a few more times before you felt the sudden tremble of your core under you. Your boobs jumped and your legs fell weak as you came. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your jaw tensed. Taeyong loved every second of it and was glad to get it on camera. Your mouth still open as you moved slowly and came down, he thought of how your lips would look around his dick. But this was enough for today. “Good girl, you came.” Taeyong got up and rubbed your cheek. “Get up.” He helped you up off the stool. “Look at that, little mouse, look at how wet you are.” You looked down and saw the leather completely covered in the liquids that escaped you. “Why is it like that?” Taeyong laughed. “It’s good...” He took your hand as he stood behind you and brought it down to your core. “Do you feel that?” His fingers over yours as he pushed them in between your folds. “Yes” You nodded, still shaken up by your orgasm. Taeyong’s hot breath on your neck made you weaker. “A wet pussy is a good pussy” Taeyong let go and you were saddened by the withdrawal. “Now, little mouse..before our next lesson, I want you to suck a few lollipops.” He looked at your lips. “When’s our next lesson?” You asked, eager to see him again for some reason. You had completely forgotten about why you were upset with him, what he had done.
He was helping you get over your sexual awkwardness and you liked that, even if it was coming from a gang leader. That was all you cared about. He made you feel good and now you wanted more. “A little impatient aren’t we? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll find you.” He winked and left you alone in the now quiet studio. ———— Taeyong goes about his daily life of crime, but still can’t get his mind off of you He’d have sex with other girls he’d meet at the nightclub his gang controlled but nothing compared to the sight of you. He’d try to get off on the girls as they danced for him but nothing worked, he couldn’t get hard and cum if he didn’t think about your body and the way you moved it on the leather chair.
He pictured your lips and heard the echoing sounds of your high pitched whimpers and moans. When he was alone, he’d get high and watch the video of you on his phone. He’d touch himself as he watched and feel completely blissful as he came while higher than the clouds. But he knew he needed more, he needed another fix. It had been two weeks but he couldn’t shake the thought of you out of his head. When he robbed people, he thought of you. When he killed people, he thought of your innocent eyes. He had to see you. Taeyong goes to watch you play tennis again but you still didn’t know. He liked the way you sweat and move.
So he decides that it’s time for your second lesson.
He waits for you at home, creeping into your bedroom through your window. He saw your parents cars in the driveway so he knew they were home. While waiting in your bedroom, he syncs his phone with your TV so he can play the video he took of you when you get out the shower. He starts to play the video, his head falling back against the headboard while he watches your innocent expressions on the screen. That’s when you came out of the bathroom attached to your room. You clutch your towel around you tightly and jumped in surprise when you saw the man on your bed. “H-how did you get in here?” Taeyong smiled. “Nice to see you too.” You heard panting and light moaning and turned to the TV.
Your eyes widened, it was you in your white blouse moving up and down the leather seat in the practice room. You had completely forgotten that Taeyong had taken and kept the video on his phone. “This isn’t good, you should delete that.” You turned back to him and pointed at the screen. “Oh, little mouse, I kept it so you can remember how good you felt.” You looked back at the screen and your jaw dropped at how you looked like a porn star. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, come here.” Taeyong patted your bed. You turned to him and walked slowly, still holding your towel around you. “Do you trust me?” He asked as he looked up at your exposed collar bones and the water droplets that dropped from your wet hair. You pouted and looked away. “I don’t know.” “Do you want to feel good again? Look at me.” He touched your hand as you looked back at the gorgeous man. “..yes.” He smiled slowly. “Come here. Get on the bed.” You still held your towel and climbed on the bed, kneeling over his lap as he massaged your thighs. Your moans on the TV echoed in the back of your head. “ sound beautiful.” Taeyong’s voice was dark and low. He rubbed his hands along the soft skin of your hips, lifting up the towel. He pressed his thumbs on the skin and bit his lips. “I want you to ride my face, little mouse.” You gasped. “You what?” “Ride my face, move just like you did on the seat.” Taeyong worked his hands to your waist. “I’m gonna make you feel good.” You nodded, he pushed himself further down your bed so that his face replaced his lap. You still held the towel as you hovered over him, hesitant to show him your naked body.
“Let me see all of you, please.” His hot breath fanned your sensitive skin, making you tremble in his hands. You nodded and dropped your towel. “Good girl, now lower yourself onto me.” He made you so weak with his husky voice. His hands gently pushed you down towards him and you started to move when you felt his plush lips against your folds. He sticks his tongue in between them, giving you one long stripe as you start to move back and forth. Your breath stays in your chest and you hold onto the headboard for support as your weak and incredibly sensitive to the feeling of his hot tongue on you. Taeyong marvels at the sight do your body above him, the roundness of your breasts, the way your nipples stuck out from the pillowy soft skin, and the beauty of your untouched pussy on his mouth. He lays his tongue flat while you move, kissing your clit every now and then to send shockwaves through your body. He likes to see how jumpy you are at the new feeling.
But he pulls you down towards him whenever you push up away from him, forcing your legs further apart so you had to lower yourself. “Taeyong—“ You breathily call out his name and let your head fall back, while still rocking your hips back and forth. Taeyong hums and dips his tongue inside to give you more. His tongue laps up the juices between your folds and moves from your clit to your dripping opening. You nearly lose it as he explores your pussy with his mouth, moaning and crying out while you get closer to cumming. Taeyong digs his thumbs into your waist, making you yelp out in the unexpected and bruising pain.
“Quiet down, sweetheart, we don’t want your parents to hear, isn’t that right?” Taeyong’s raspy voice lets out. You nod amd shut your lips tightly, trying to prevent any sound from getting out. You move faster, gripping hard onto the headboard while Taeyong passionately circles his tongue around your clit and along your folds. He moves a hand to your clit and runs circle around it slowly while sticking his tongue deep inside you. This new feeling of the combined attacks on your core makes you go crazy, you can’t hold back anymore and cry out his name loudly. “Taeyong!” He slaps your ass hard with his other hand, making you jump. You put a hand over your mouth as Taeyong brings you to the edge with his mouth, moaning into it as tears start to form.
You moved back and forth a few more times before cumming. You tried to lift yourself off of his face as you came but he used his large, veiny hands to force you back down onto him.
You shake uncontrollably and look down at him while he holds you still, your mouth falling open in a silent ‘O’ shape.
He licked everything up while looking you in the eyes. He was so hard, he wanted to fuck you until you moaned so loudly, your parents would think you were being attacked, but he knew he couldn’t. Not tonight.
He finally lets you go and you fall down on the bed beside him, exhausted and weak with the a tired feeling in your legs. He wipes his mouth with the bath towel and leans over you. 
“You were such a good girl for me, baby.” He kissed your forehead while you smiled. “That was amazing.” You let out. Taeyong sat up and flipped channel while you looked at the ceiling blissfully. “There’s a video I wanted you to see.” Taeyong turned to you and held your hand.
You sat up straight and looked at the TV. The video features a man dressed as a priest and a woman dressed as a nun.
“Why are we watching this?” You ask as Taeyong rubs small circles on your back. At first it seems like an innocent video of people in a church, but then you see what it really is.
The nun undressed like the priest tells her too then gets on her knees. You gasp as you watch the nun open her mouth for the priest and gives him a blow job in the church. “Is this real?” “Yes” Taeyong lies, they’re just actors but he doesn’t want you to know that. You gasp at the sight. “Isn’t this..wrong?” Taeyong chuckles at how naive you are. “No, little mouse, they are in love, So this isn’t, watch closely.” You observe the way the lady’s head bobs up and down, and how she takes the priests entire length in her mouth. Your head turns and you wonder how it’s possible at a to fit so much in one’s mouth. “If you’re a good girl like she is, you’ll be rewarded greatly.” Taeyong watches your wide eyes on the TV. He gets up and sits on the edge of the bed. He could’ve just laid on the bed and had you between his legs while he rested his back against the headboard, but having you under him on the floor would feel so much more..satisfying. He takes your hand and gets you off the bed. “Get on your knees and be a good girl for me.” You look up at him while he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. He unzips his jeans and takes his erect dick out. the size is intimidating, not as large as the man’s in the video, but you’re still not sure how you could fit all of him in your mouth. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asks once he sees your sad expression. “I’m not sure..if I love you, Taeyong.” Taeyong smiles and laughs lightly, still moving his hand up and down his member, circling around shaft and spreading the pre cum over it. He had built himself up so much, just the sight of you below him would make him cum hard if he kept moving his hand. But he wanted to feel your pretty mouth on him badly. “ you hate me?” You shake your head. “No, no I don’t, Taeyong.” “And what is the opposite of hate?” Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Love.” The word barely leaves your mouth. Taeyong is addicting, you can’t push away from him even though the small voice in your head tells you to. 
He’s a criminal, someone that lives a completely different lifestyle from you and hurts others. He went against everything you were taught, he was dangerous, but you liked that.
“See, baby, I love you so much I tasted you and fucked you with my mouth.” The words sounded sexy as they left his mouth. 
“but if you want to prove that you love me, you should take me in, all of me. Do you understand why we must do this now?” Taeyong intertwines his other hand with yours, his eyes large and focused on your soft face. “Yes..”
He was surprised to feel a small pain in his cold heart after he lied to you, but he brushed it away. He wasn’t capable of providing love. He only fucked well and got people to do things for him with that manipulative mouth of his. Love was never an option. “Good.” He smiles. “Now, open your pretty mouth.” He moves his hand up and down his shaft as you hover over it, a heat growing in between your legs again as you remember what the couple on the TV did. “Do it just like she did for Father. You want to be a good girl, right?” “Yes, Taeyong.” You lick your lips and put your mouth on his tip. You do as he says. Doing your best to follow what the girl in the video does, and lower your mouth onto him, taking in as much as you can.
There’s a harsh feeling in your throat as you feel you’ve taken in all you can, but you push even further. You had to be good, you had to make him feel as good as he made you feel. You gag and take him all in, your eyes squinting at the pain in your throat. You pull your mouth off and let your spit drop back onto his tip as you choke.
When you pull away you look up at him with large eyes and ask “Like this?”, Taeyong grunts.
“Yes, just like that, think of it as those lollipops you had this week.” Taeyong smirks and pushes your head back down. “Stick your tongue out.” Taeyong demands through dark eyes. You do as he says and he guides his tip on your tongue. “Lick it, little mouse.” 
And so you do, you lick all around it and in between the small part at the top. You moved your head so your tongue can cover all bases while you place kitten licks on his veiny dick.
“Does it feel good, Taeyong, am I a good girl?” You work your tongue around the shaft as he throws his head back and holds back his loud groans. Your kitten licks drove him crazy “Yes, baby, you’re perfect, now swallow.” He looks back down at you and pushes the back of your head. You feel his dick hit the back of your throat and struggle to breathe as you bob your head up and down. “Yes, sweetheart, just like that.” You move your head up and down like the lady in the video did, drinking in Taeyong’s glorious moans. He looks down at your naked body while you gag and tears start to fall down your perfect face.
You pull away for a brief moment to breathe, and Taeyong watches as a string of spit and his pre cum fall onto your breasts and your chin. “Just a little longer, I’m almost there.” He pants. You look up at him innocently and nod before moving back down onto it. Taeyong grabs your hair and thrusts into your mouth, forcing your head down so that your lips and tongue touch every inch as he gets closer. 
You groan as your throat becomes raw and irritated at the continued attack, but the vibrations make Taeyong go crazy.
You don’t even move your head anymore as Taeyong fucks into it. Your eyes start to water, your knees grow tired on the cold, hard floor.
“Fuck” he whispers as he gets closer.
You tap his thigh to tell him you can’t breathe, but he forces himself into your mouth with one hard thrust and you feel a hot liquid coat the back of your irritated throat.
He’s still holding the back of your head so you can’t pull away and see his release. “Swallow it.”
He groans and curses as he comes in your mouth.
You’re completely ruined as your tears stain your red cheeks and your nose runs. He finally lets go of your head and watches you swallow hard.
“It hurts.” You whined as you look up at him and wipe your chin of his cum. “I know, baby, but you did so well.” He picks you up off the floor. “you were such a good girl.” He sits you on his lap and cleans your face up with the bath towel before laying you down. He zips his jeans up and turns off the TV.
“Now you know what it feels like. Doesn’t it feel good?” He asks as he wipes your face. He doesn’t lay down with you, he only sits on the side of your bed while watching you. “Can I know..what the actual thing feels like?” You look down at his pants, eager to feel him inside you.
Taeyong chuckles and his smile makes your heart shutter. His beautiful large eyes squinted. “You will, little mouse, but not today.”
He wanted to fuck you badly, make you writhe under him and beg for more. He wanted to be the first one to stretch you out and the first to cum inside your beautiful pussy, but he knew he had to wait. 
You were like a delicate, expensive toy. He couldn’t treat you like any other girl. You were pure. Little by little, he wanted to open your eyes and take out the hungry animal in you that would beg for his cock every day. He knew if he was the one to bring you to your amazing climaxes every time, you wouldn’t want anyone else, you’d only crave him. You were his, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He pulled the blanket over your naked body and rubbed your side as you fell asleep. You were tired by the new feelings and his attack on your throat, so you fell asleep quickly. “My little mouse, you’re all mine.” He got up and left the same way he came in. Oddly enough, you never asked him how he got in in the first place. ———— Another two weeks away from Taeyong, you felt a strange urge in your stomach to be with him again, to make him feel good. It’s all you thought about. You saw his perfect face and his smile whenever he called you a good girl. You felt his large hands over your body and imagined them in between your legs. You bit your lips and focused on the drive. Your parents were taking you back to college, the last thing you wanted to do was touch yourself in the backseat while they listened to a gospel album and hummed along. You pouted when you looked at your phone. Taeyong never texted you, maybe because he wanted you to come to him. But part of you was upset. You thought he got what he wanted and ditched you. He didn’t even call the next day to give you tips on how to get rid of the god awful sore throat you had. So you didn’t text him to tell him you were leaving town. Why should you? He wasn’t your boyfriend. —— Three weeks later and Taeyong kept an eye on you all the time. That night he went over to your place he put a tiny tracker in your bag. He always knew where you were and this was how he watched you. So he was shocked to see your strange location on the map when he woke up one morning. You were gone, out of the city and miles away. “Where you going little mouse?” He said to himself with a smirk. He was initially offended by you not notifying him of your leave but then he thought to himself, how wonderful this game of cat and mouse would be.
He could’ve texted you but he didn’t want you to know that he was watching. He wanted to surprise you, but first he needed to know exactly what kinda place you were in.
He went on to your social media and found a pic of you and another girl. The caption was “finally reunited with my fave.” He felt a tinge of jealousy, he thought he was your fave. He then looked at the location and saw the name of the university you were at. It was about 50 miles away so it made sense.
It was time for him to get his fix. He wanted to see you again, to feel your warm body and mouth on his again. He wanted to remind you of who you belonged to because he wouldn’t let you go that easily. He picked up his phone and dialed Johnny. “John..I’m gonna be taking a little vacation..I won’t be back for a few days. Make sure everyone keeps their shit together.” He didn’t wait for Johnny to ask questions, he hung up and gathered his things. ———— “Lets get fucked up!!” Your roommate Jessica yelled out over the music in the club while raising her shot glass. It was your first night together since summer break so you decided to have some fun at the nightclub near campus with a few of your friends. So much for good Christian morals. Everyone was drinking and dancing to the pulsating beats covered by profane language. Some kids were making out and some were talking. You missed Taeyong when you looked at the couples, you wanted to dance with him, to feel his hands all over you. “So my boyfriend and I had sex in the bathroom at Olive Garden over break!” Jessica yelled out over the music. You winced and tried to hide your displeasure at hearing the unnecessary confession. “Oh really? wow.” She had so much more experience than you did, and she knew this. While you had a strict Christian lifestyle back home, Jessica rebelled against it and did everything she wasn’t supposed to do.
She felt good when she talked about her sex life because she knew you couldn’t relate, but she didn’t know about Taeyong. You wanted to tell her how he fucked you with his tongue, but you didn’t, you’d only feel impure if you talked about it.
Luckily, your mutual friend Mark came up and disrupted the conversation before Jessica could go into the details. “Hey!! How are you guys?” Mark called out and hugged you both. You smiled widely and hugged him back, happy to see the cute dork. He pushed up his large round glasses and stuck his hands in his jeans.
Seeing him in a nightclub was strange. He was so innocent and sweet, you always felt a connection as he never had a girlfriend either and focused on church and studying. He was kind and just came back from his missionary trip in a country you forgot the name of. “I’m good! How was your summer overseas?” You asked excitedly. The three of your spoke before dancing together. Mark held your hand and spun you around in the typical flirtatious manner he always had. You two laughed and held each other, a bit tipsy from the alcohol.
You didn’t notice the pair of dark eyes that watched you from the bar. Taeyong drank you in, you wore a black body con dress that hugged your curves and had your hair messy for the first time. Your makeup was also darker than usual. You didn’t look so innocent anymore. He licked his lips and watched as you spoke to the man in front you. He was furious that the nerdy boy had touched you, hugged you. He hated the way he smiled and the way you looked at him like he was your entire world. He wanted to be the only man you looked at like that, so he knew he had to make it stop. 
His anger took over, he knew he wouldn’t give a warning. ————— Classes start and it’s been three days since anyone has seen Mark. You were the closest to him so you asked his roommates if they’d seen him but they all shook their heads. You called and texted him but didn’t get a response. That was..until a few hours later. Mark sent a text back and you quickly unlocked your phone to open it. Your mouth dropped when you saw what it was. You quickly walked to the corner of a building on campus and watched the video. It was the same one that Taeyong took, the one of you fucking yourself on the leather seat in the practice room. You close the video and call him repeatedly until he answers, furious at what he had the audacity to send you. Then you heard the ringing sound stop and a breath over the line. “Mark?” You said quietly. There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to answer. “Hello, little mouse.” The voice answers. “..what did you just call me?” Your eyes widen. “Little mouse, you left me all alone..” the deep voice trailed, sending chills up your spine. “T-Taeyong..what did you do? Where’s Mark?” “Your boyfriend’s right here!” You heard Mark’s blood curdling scream and a few loud hits and cracks. Your eyes started to water when you heard the silence. You thought of what Taeyong did to the man at the fair and panicked. “Taeyong..please, don’t do this.” You beg. “How could you cheat on me?” “Cheat? What are you talking about, he’s my friend. And wait, we’re not even dating!” “Oh, sweetheart, you’re mine, I thought I made that very clear.” “Taeyong, you never texted or called me, I’m not yours and I never will be, you’re crazy!” You yelled into the phone, but Taeyong’s haunting chuckle overtook you. “Mmm..little mouse, you’ve gotten brave now, huh? Well..if he’s not your boyfriend and I’m not your boyfriend..I guess I’ll just get rid of him and leave you alone.” “No! Leave him alone!” “Why would I do that?” “Please..Taeyong, dont hurt him, he didn’t do anything wrong..this is my fault, I’m sorry I left you without saying anything.” “And what will you do to make up for it?” Taeyong asked and you paused. You knew what he wanted and you had to give it to him to free Mark. “Fine. I’ll do..whatever you want me to, Taeyong, just leave him alone please.” “I want you to live with me. I can’t breathe without you, little mouse. I need to feel you near me..if you’re too far away, I’m not sure what I’ll do..who I’ll hurt.” He was blackmailing you but what could you do? You had already gone too far. “I-I can’t do that...your life is completely different from my own...and you’re a gang—“ “Then say goodbye to Mark.” “No!” You started but Taeyong already hung up the phone. You hurriedly called the cops and tell them that someone called you from Mark’s phone. You delete the video but showed them the call. 
You didn’t tell them who it was you spoke with, you simply said a strange man answered, but you hoped they would be able to track his phone and find Mark. You didn’t want to explicitly say it was Taeyong. But the information you gave them wasn’t enough, so they left and said they’d put out a missing persons report. When you got back to your dorm, you called Taeyong several times, he didn’t answer so you texted Taeyong after he declined them.
Taeyong knew you called the police because he watched the activity on your phone and heard your conversation. Taeyong used your phone number and gave it to his gang’s hacker, Taeil, so he knew who you called and who you texted after Taeil created a duplicate SIM card. He knew you didn’t tell the cops about him and smiled, thinking of how you protected him because you loved him. To Taeyong: please don’t hurt Mark, I take it back, I’ll live with you The guilt was eating away at your heart, you were terrified of what he’d do. Taeyong could’ve just given in and swooped you up that night, but he wanted to make himself clear, he’d hurt anyone that touched you. ———— You didn’t sleep that night.. you got up to go to class but walked by a crowd you saw gathering around the large cross that was seated in the center of campus. Some students turned away and cried, some students put their hands over their mouths. You finally looked up and saw what they did. It was Mark. Bloodied and bruised and tied to the large campus cross to turn it into a crucifix. He was nearly unrecognizable, it was his large round glasses and his favorite watermelon t-shirt that told you it was him. Your eyes started to tear up, your head started to spin, you knew who had done this and you couldn’t breathe. You looked away from Mark’s body as he barely breathed through a swollen lip. Both eyes were black and his hands and feet were swollen from the blood that had collected while he was tied there for what seemed to be hours. 
You ran away and cried, unable to breathe. You brushed past campus medical and ran to a corner, where you bent over and screamed. How could he do this to one of your closest friends? Mark didn’t do anything, he was someone that was close to you and now Taeyong had hurt him, who knew what internal damage had been done. Mark only did great things for his community, unlike Taeyong who hurt everyone. And when you finally stopped crying, You were furious. You opened your phone and found Taeyong’s number. You knew you shouldn’t have cursed or wished ill on anyone, it’s not why you were taught, but you were just so mad. To Taeyong: fuck you. You closed the text box and blocked his phone number. You didn’t know that this infuriated and intrigued Taeyong. You weren’t his innocent little girl anymore, and while part of him was a bit hurt, he was more turned on by your sassiness. 
He had no regrets for what he did to Mark, he only craved you more when you pushed yourself away from him because he knew that in the end, he’d get you, he’d have you under him, begging for him, loving him and no one else, for forever. Even if that meant hurting or killing everyone close to you. You sat in your room, locked your door and cried. You cursed yourself for not telling the cops about Taeyong. Why were you trying to protect him in the first place? Telling them about him now wouldn’t have made any sense. You had no idea where Taeyong was. They wouldn’t find him, you’d only waste their time again. You couldn’t talk to anyone about Taeyong, they’d say your crazy for letting it get this far. You held your face and thought of what to do, who could keep your information confidential? And then it clicked. You needed to go to the one place that always brought you peace when you had a lot on your mind. ———— Later that day, you went to the campus church, a large and ancient building with incredible high arches and velvet covered benches. You still cried softly as you kneeled in between the benches and prayed for a few minutes. You then went into the confessional box to speak with the priest. You sat on the small bench, resting your back against the walls and exhaling heavily. You couldn’t get the picture of Mark’s messed up face and body out of your mind. “Father..there’s a lot on my mind and my heart.” “Go on, my child.” “I friends safety in great risk.” The tears started to come again as you choked up. “And now, he’s hurt..real bad.. and I know who hurt him..” You paused. “But I don’t know what to do Father..I think I love the man who hurt him, but I don’t know why..and now I can’t even face my friend who is in so much pain because of me.” You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “I’m a coward, father, please forgive me.. I’ve been lustful and ignorant..I’ve put myself before others.” You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes. “Father, I don’t even know if I deserve forgiveness.” “My child..of course you deserve forgiveness. That’s why you are’ve acknowledged your mistakes and now you can learn from them.”
His voice sounded weird, unnatural, but you didn’t question it. “This man..that you love..have you asked for his forgiveness?” Your eyes opened and your brows furrowed. “No, Father, he’s the reason why my friend is hurt, why should I ask for his forgiveness?” “But you’re the one who left him and drove him to could’ve been prevented if you just did what he asked, if you just went to him and loved him.” You raised your head and your mouth dropped. “I’m-I’m sorry Father, I’m not following.” There was a moment of silence, just the sound of your breathing filled the small booth. “Little mouse, when will you learn?” Taeyong’s voice spoke out from the box, the fake voice you had heard before disappearing. You jumped up and opened the door of the box to run out but Taeyong beat you to it and pushed you back inside. You fell onto the small bench before standing up and trying to push past Taeyong, you opened your mouth to scream but Taeyong quickly put a hand over your mouth while closing the door.
He leaned down and whispered in your ear, keeping anyone else in the church from hearing anything. “Did you really think you could run away and block me?” “Why would you run away from the one that loves you the most?” Taeyong looked somber, genuinely hurt that you stayed away from him. He took his hand from your mouth when your eyes softened.
You breathed heavily. “How could you hurt my friend? I told you I’d do anything you wanted me to?” You cried as you remembered Mark’s bloody face. “I had to let everyone know that you’re mine, sweetheart, don’t you understand?” You shook your head and cried while he head your chin and stepped closer to you. “You’re crazy.” “No, little mouse, this is how people show their love for one another. Sacrifices have to be made for the betterment of the relationship.” You sniffled and you listened to the handsome man above you. “I hurt him..because he touched you, he tainted you that night at the club and I couldn’t stand it because I love you!” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him, unaware that he was at the club that night. “He’s my friend! We were having fun!” Your voice raised. He only smiled and ran his long fingers along the side of your face.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but please understand you forgive me?” He leaned down and placed soft kisses on your neck. 
He held your head, softly tugging your head back so he could kiss your collar bone. “Don’t you remember when I made you feel good?” His low voice spoke against your soft skin.
You whined quietly and leaned into him, you didn’t want him to stop. Your mind told you this was bad, but your body was saying something else.
“Yes.” “I can do that again..but only if you forgive me, do you?” Something about Taeyong was so intoxicating. His hot breath on your lips made you weak, he clouded your mind again and you no longer saw Mark’s bloody face. 
You nodded without thinking it through. “Yes.” He pulled back and smiled. Something about his dark eyes in the dimly lit booth made him look dangerously handsome. 
“ I have to forgive you for leaving will you gain my forgiveness? What will you do for me, little mouse?” You looked up at him questioningly.
His lips were just centimeters away from yours, you wanted to feel them again.
“I-I’ll do anything.” You let out as you struggled to focus on forming complete sentences. His closeness was driving you crazy in the small booth. 
The warmth of his body on yours and his touch made you want more. He gave you a wicked smile. “my sweet girl, there is one thing that has been on my mind.. but only if you’re ready can we do it.” You nodded, already knowing what he was referring to. You wanted it too and his closeness to you only brought out the craving you had weeks ago the last time you were together. “I’m ready.” Taeyong smiled and kissed your neck while he ran a hand up your thigh. He sucked hard to leave a colorful mark on your perfect skin. Your head fell back against the wall behind you and you pushed your body closer to his, feeling his bulge through his jeans. You moaned quietly when he placed his finger tips over your underwear, pushing the outward frills of your plaid skirt up so he could hold your skin. “Taeyong—what if someone walks in?” You breathily let out. He rolled hips into yours with his head still buried in the crook of your neck. “They’ll see how good I make you feel, baby. Now, put your legs around my waist.” Taeyong our two hands in your butt and lifted you up so that your legs wrapped around him. He pinned you to the wall to keep you up. He loved seeing you like this in your plaid skirt, white dress shirt, knee highs and pink bow tie. You’re an innocent girl ready to be fucked in the confessional booth in a church, and that drove him wild. “Unbutton your shirt, sweetheart.” His mouth watered as he pulled away and looked at you. His low eyes watching you breathe heavily. You did as he said while he hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his boxers down. His dick sprung up out of the restricted clothing and hit your thigh. He lowered his head back to your boobs and suck the top. “Taeyong—“ You breathily moaned his name as you felt his wet, tongue on your skin and felt his stiff member on your thigh so close to your throbbing entrance. You heard the people in the church move about like they would on any other day. They had no idea that you we’re committing a sin within the walls of the house of God.
It felt wrong, but it felt good. Taeyong pushes your bra down and your boobs spill out to reveal your hard nipples.
He sucks them, licking and pinching them lightly whisk you cry out his name. “Tell me what you want, do you like that?” He let out in a sultry voice, making you whimper and close your eyes. You felt your legs start to waver as your heat grew. “Yes, Taeyong, please.” You begged and ran a hand through his hair. He backs away slightly and holds his cock, he smirks while he watches your low eyes and parted lips. He knew you’d be begging for this and it turned him on even more. He uses his other hand to push your panties aside then rubs his tip on your clit and along your folds. You moan loudly and hold his shoulder, the feeling making you twitch under him. “Tell me how bad you want it.” Taeyong whispered into your ear, still rubbing his length along your wet opening. He takes a nipple into your mouth again. “Please..Taeyong.” You run a hand down his back to pull him closer to you. “Say it, little mouse. What do you want me to do?” He’s pushing you to the point of begging and you didn’t care. “Please, Taeyong, please fuck me.” That’s all he needed to hear. He pushed into you slowly. He knows it’s your first time so you’re tight. He watches you and waits for you to get used to the new feeling. You cry out at the pain and close your eyes. When you feel like you’ve finally adjusted you nod, and he pushes into you again, this time he rubs your clit. “Relax, sweetheart, you’re doing so well.” “ God.” You feel tears run down your cheek as he stretches you out and pushes even further into your body, driving you up the wall. He holds your waist to keep your firm against him. He groans and looks down at your small pussy stretching around him.
“Fuck, so tight, baby.” He lets out then watches as he pulls out, his thumb still rubbing circles. You wince as he pushes back in and breathe heavily. “Good girl.” He kisses your lips as he starts to move in and out of you slowly. He pushed into you deep every time and almost pulls out completely. Your dig into his back through his thin t shirt with your nails as he drives your body up the wall of the confessional. Something about the fact that you, the daughter of a pastor, was being fucked in a church by the man they called the grim reaper pushed you further to your climax. It was all so hot. He moves faster as you get even more wet, allowing him to slip in and out easily. Your head falls back and your mouth opens as your moans get louder.You ran your hands along his toned arms as he kisses your neck sloppily. “Taeyong!” You call out his name as the lewd sounds of him pounding into your wet entrance grows and your hand moves faster. You close your legs tightly around his waist. He puts a hand over your mouth to stop your moans as he hits your g spot repeatedly. He nearly goes crazy himself with the feeling of your tight, velvety walls clenching around him. You felt so good around him, it was even better than he had dreamed of. And now hearing your high pitched moans as you sinned for him, drove him to the edge. He kissed your neck and pushed into you hard while still covering your wet mouth with his hand.
Your boobs jumped up and down as he fucked you against the wall. His back was covered in scratch marks as you finally released onto him.
Your body shook while he still pushed into you hard. Your muffled cries quieted down and he kept moving but he let go of your mouth and watched it fall open. The sight of your drooling for him and making quiet, mousy sounds as he fucked you silly, made him realize he was about to cum. He pulled out of quickly and you slid down the wall and onto the small bench. You looked up at him through wet eyes while he pumped his cum out of his long dick. “Open wide.” You opened your mouth and watched as the long strings of cum left his dick and entered your mouth. He moved his hand all over it and made sure that your mouth was covered in his essence. He grunted as some leaked out and coated your chin. He tapped his tip on your tongue while getting out the last amount. You licked it before he pulled away. “Swallow.” You swallowed and closed your eyes, still focused on the feeling of losing your virginity. Taeyong held your hand after zipping his jeans up and cleaning your chin with his thumb. “I love you..don’t ever leave me again.” He held your head in his hand and pulled you in for a kiss. You kissed him back, feeling your sensitive body tremble while he touched you softly. You felt good, so good as the post-sex buzz roared through your body. You wanted to be with him forever and to feel him again and again. But why did you feel like something bad was bound to happen?
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markrees · 2 years ago
Sunflower - Mark Lee
Mark is sweet. And gentle. And comfortable to be around with when he isn’t causing you to almost hyperventilate. 
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category: au!college Mark / i live for college student mark ;; f l u f f  / shy mark, flustered mark, sweet mark, mark in general 
word count: 11.5K sorry 
warnings: none, just a lot of fluff really. 
a/n: this took me weeks to finish :( i hope you like it! 
Everything seemed to happen in a whizzing blur because right now you were still unable to fully comprehend what had just happened. One second you were walking to your next class, traipsing along the grey concrete of your university campus and the next second you found yourself on the ground, a painful sensation shooting up your right arm as you scrunch up your face in agony. You absentmindedly stare at the cast being applied carefully to the affected arm from the impact of your fall, eyeing the doctor’s fluid movements as he expertly does his task with major ease. To your left, you feel eyes burning holes on the side of your face, shifting his stare between your side view and your broken arm.
Mark Lee, also known as the cute boy in your advanced anatomy and physiology classes always hidden behind the rims of his round glasses, black hair and in the comfort of his hoodies, was standing just at the edge of your hospital bed watching you and the doctor quietly. Mark Lee, also known as the very person responsible for your dazed-like state resulting from the effects of the pain medications you had received earlier to manage your misery.
“The cast will have to stay on for six weeks,” the doctor says, snapping you out of your hazy thoughts as he finishes up. “You have to keep it dry at all costs but if you feel something isn’t right or if it’s too tight, come back to us straight away so we can fix it.”
You absentmindedly nod and examine your new arm and its new weight. The only thing you can move now were your fingers, left free at the end of the constriction. “Thank you doctor.”
With a smile and a nod, the doctor steps out of your cubicle, leaving you and Mark in silence. Oblivious to you, Mark had been paying much more attention to everything the doctor had said given the fact that he was more in tune with his surroundings while you were in a dizzy state. You’d momentarily forgotten Mark was there with you and you nearly flinch when you hear him speak.
“I’m really sorry, this is all my fault,” he says, guilt dripping from his voice and steps closer so that he can lean on the edge of your bed beside you.
You shake your head weakly, offering a small smile in hopes of reassuring him. “No, it’s alright. It’s no one’s fault. It was an accident.”
Mark rubs the nape of his neck as he stares into the wall opposite the two of you, replaying the earlier events and how he had knocked you off of your feet when he lost his balance on his bicycle.
“I shouldn’t have been cycling there in the first place, so really, it was my fault. You’d still have a perfectly working arm by now if I didn’t wake up late and wasn’t late for class.”
You laugh at his words and fiddle with the material of your cast. It was the first time you felt so light for the day and Mark eases at the sound of your laugh, loosening up his tense shoulders because of the guilt that had been eating him alive.
“It’s okay, really. It doesn’t hurt anymore so I should be okay,” you say and turn your head slightly to your left only to be met by a still guilty looking Mark. You raise your left hand and pat him gently on the back. “Mark, it’s fine. My arm is okay. I’m alive.”
He tears his eyes off the wall and cranes his neck slightly to look at you, a small smile forming on his lips as an appreciation of your consolation. “Is there at least anything I can do to make it a bit better?”
“Mark you really don’t have to—“
“I insist Y/N.”
You grow silent for a while, blinking at him.
“Anything at all. Don’t be shy. It’s the least I could possibly do,” Mark adds, determined to make it up to you.
You come to a conclusion that no matter how much you assure him you were alright, he would never not be guilty because honestly if you were in his shoes, you’d probably be basking yourself in utter guilt right now. So you decide to make it easier for him knowing what he’s feeling right now won’t vanish in a glimpse just from your words alone.
“Okay,” you finally say. You shift your gaze to your broken arm, an idea finally popping in your mind.
“Y-you can—” you start and you feel your chest tighten slightly when you catch Mark staring intently at you, silently prodding you to continue with warmth radiating from his big brown orbs.
“Bring me home?”
Week one.
Having a broken arm was more inconvenient than you had initially thought and to make matters worse, it was your dominant hand that just had to snap in two. Blowing a raspberry, you walk into your first lecture of the week ever since the incident, your face scrunching involuntarily as you recall how much of a struggle it was to get ready for university this morning. You walk along the large lecture hall and find your usual seat in the middle of the room that you had always opted to sit on; not to close to be noticed by the professor and not too far to be unable to see anything clearly. It isn’t long before the hall gets filled with bustling students, a lot of them clinging onto paper cups of hot beverages to keep them fuelled for the long day ahead.
You catch sight of the professor emerging from the door and takes his place on the podium to the right corner. With much struggle, you manage to take out your usual materials for class, mainly your anatomy and physiology notebook and your favourite black pen that somehow managed to make early lectures more bearable. The professor begins to speak coherently with the slides displayed on the huge screen and when you’re about to reach for your pen, realisation hits like a truck. You couldn’t write. And you groan in frustration upon the reminder, earning a few looks from the students not too far away from you. Luckily, it wasn’t loud enough for the professor to hear who continued to switch from one slide to another. You let out a sigh as quietly as you could, trying your best to hide your disappointment. So you sit back instead and attempt to listen to everything the professor taught, absorbing as much as your brain allowed so that maybe, you could type up your own notes later. It felt weird not to be writing because it was always something you did in every class. There’s anxiety bubbling up in your chest when your thoughts inadvertently fly to the remaining classes of the day— how were you going to survive?
You end up missing half the things said in your anatomy class because you were too focused on worrying about how the next six weeks would pan out. So when the professor dismisses your class, you rise from your seat with another groan, stuffing your untouched belongings into your bag with a huff. This day was not looking bright and it was only the first class. You can only imagine how difficult it would be to mentally prepare yourself for the rest of the day.
When you exit the hall to make your way to the next one, you stop in the middle of your tracks when your names echoes in between the walls of the building.
You turn around and find Mark lightly jogging up to you. He’s wearing yet another hoodie with black jeans and glasses sitting snugly on the bridge of his nose. You smile at him when he reaches you soon after, unknowingly forgetting about how horrible your day was unraveling.
“How’s the arm?” He asks, securing one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder.
You raise your right arm and wave it slightly in front of him. “Still broken, I think.”
Mark chuckles at your reply and you find yourself smiling along. “Yeah about that I’m really sorry.”
“Mark I was joking. And it’s fine, I promise,” you say.
He purses his lips and nod in defeat. “But still,” he starts and stops himself from apologising again. “Anyways, here.”
You look down and see pages in his hands being extended out to you. You glance back up at him. “What are those?”
He prods you to take them from his hands and you do so, scanning through the handwriting sprawled everywhere on the first page. From the corner of your eye, you see Mark rub the nape of his neck again, a bashful smile playing on his lips.
“Well since uh.. I figured you can’t write because of your arm,” Mark says and you pick up on how shy he’s suddenly become. “So I took notes for you from today’s class.”
You scan the remaining pages and true enough, Mark had taken down everything that was discussed in the class earlier, even drawing mini diagrams with labels here and there and you smile when you see him add his own little notes and reminders on the sides of the pages in a different coloured pen. Mark’s writing wasn’t the neatest and you know it’s because of how fast paced the anatomy lectures usually were and how much of a struggle it was to actually keep up with the professor’s words. But what impresses you is that he’s managed to write everything down in such a short span of time, something you couldn’t do, always missing a few important bits.
You couldn’t help but feel a weight lifted off of your shoulder.
“I know it might not be as good as the notes you usually take but—“
You didn’t realise how happy a bunch of pages put together made you until you find yourself jumping up to envelop your arms around Mark’s neck. Maybe it was the fact that you were so convinced you’d have a horrible day ahead and the fact that Mark had come to rescue you from a fraction of your misery without him knowing but right now, you were just happy and you wanted to hang on to the positive things to help you through the long classes waiting for you. It was a small gesture from Mark. But to you, it was more than enough. 
“Oh my goodness this is perfect. Thank you so much. You didn’t have to—“ You stop midway when you realise the position you had gotten yourself into and immediately peel yourself off of Mark who didn’t get the chance to fully comprehend the actions you had just exhibited.
You find him blinking rapidly behind his glasses when you step away from him. You feel heat creep up on your cheeks along with the embarrassment taking over every cell of your body and before he could open his mouth to say something, you cut him off.
“I will study these notes well! Thank you!” You say with a smile, “I’ll see you around then Mark!” You continue quickly and turn on your heels to walk away before he could notice your face that by now is probably as red as a tomato.
Week two.
After a week of adjusting, you were slowly getting used to using one good arm and compromising with the other. Basic tasks such as washing the dishes, taking a shower and brushing your teeth was still a challenge but everyday seemed to get easier. Instead of writing notes physically during lectures, you found it easier to type as you listened, given that your fingers were functioning just fine. Though it felt weird not to be using your favourite pens and turning the pages of your notebook and staring at the bright screen for hours, you felt calmer knowing you kept track of everything you had to study.
The only physical notes you had from the previous week was Mark’s. And there were times you’d discover yourself staring at the pages a little longer, studying not the material, but every stroke that he produced on the page. You had found fascination in the way he wrote his words and even though you’ve studied his material countless of times, you couldn’t help but revise all the information squashed into the reams over and over again. You’re convinced you’ve memorised the nitty gritty of how the human kidneys worked at this stage.
You don’t see Mark after that encounter. After all, you only have once class together and it only occurred once a week. But you’re surprised with how much you’ve been thinking about him. It isn’t until today that you see him again, walking up the stairs of the lecture hall, scanning the room for a seat until he stops just by the row you always sat yourself in. You were early today and so you took comfort in the emptiness and silence of the hall that was yet to be filled with students you really didn’t know. You catch his eyes just as he stands by the edge of the row of empty seats and smiles at you then before scooting himself inside until he’s standing over the seat next to yours.
“Hey,” he greets. “Is this seat taken?”
You glance down at the chair and then back up at Mark, shaking your head lightly. “No, it’s not.”
He smiles at your response and proceeds to sit on the empty chair, placing his backpack just underneath the table.
You blink a couple of times, quite taken aback that the person you’ve just been thinking about (and all week) is sitting right next to you. He’s wearing another hoodie today, a red one, and his dark brown hair is falling just on top of his glasses. You don’t remember ever sitting next to Mark, your memories of him only ever consisting of the boy who sat near the back, in the corner beside another student whom you didn’t know the name of.
There’s silence echoing in the huge hall and you try to rack your brain for things to talk about. Mark seems to be thinking the exact same thing because you both speak at the same time when a topic comes to mind.
“How are—“
“The notes—“
You both chuckle shortly after and Mark gestures for you to speak first. He’s smiling and you notice little sparkles in his eyes. You give yourself a moment to come back to your world after being momentarily lost in the way that his nose crinkled whenever he laughed.
“The notes from last week,” you start. “They were really good. I studied well, thank you.”
The smile on Mark’s lips widen. “Yeah? I was actually worried they didn’t make any sense. I’ve already broken your arm, I don’t want you failing this module too.”
You let out a hearty laugh and you don’t see the way Mark watches you with contentment. “No no. They were actually better than the notes I usually write. So I’m pretty sure no one’s failing anytime soon.”
Mark nods in satisfaction and he pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he leans forward to rest his clasped hands on the table.
“Well then, leave today’s class up to me,” he announces, watching students come in the lecture hall at the bottom of the room.
You stare at his side profile and tilt your head a little to the side. “It’s okay Mark, I can type my notes today,” you reply and tap your laptop sitting on the table.
Mark glances at the device for a second before shrugging. “No. You relax. I got this.”
“Mark, really it’s okay. You don’t have to—“
He turns to you then and he catches you off guard slightly when he leans forward towards your direction. He’s smiling at you, never breaking eye contact.
  “I don’t have to. I’m doing it because I want to.”
Week three.
You can’t focus. And you’re not paying attention to the things you should be. You didn’t even know what the topic of today’s lecture was. The professor’s words seem to drown out of your head completely because you’re staring at the figure beside you writing notes down profusely. You watch Mark repeat his cycle; craning his head towards the front where the lecturer stood before dipping his head down again. There’s a set of pages for you and a set for him and it was only then that you realised how hard he had to work because now he was writing not just for himself but for you too. And no matter how many times you’ve fought to take your eyes off of him, you can’t. And you didn’t know why.
It’s only when Mark looks up some time after and turn his head to you that you’re forced to look away. But when you do, you’re sure he still caught you staring. You feel Mark’s eyes linger on you for a while and you wonder if there was anything on your face for him to do so. When he does resume to focusing his attention to the lecture, you exhale a breath you weren’t aware you were holding.
Lectures were always long but today felt painfully longer than usual. And you think it’s because of the fact that everything being taught didn’t seem to implant themselves in your brain. You couldn’t be more relieved when you see the word conclusion appear on the wide screen indicating the end of anatomy and physiology that felt like centuries later.
“Are you not tired?” You ask Mark curiously as you get up from your seat and prepare to leave.
“Mhm?” Mark hums in response, stuffing his belongings into his backpack. “I got eight hours of sleep last night so I’m good.”
You smile to yourself at his words and follow him when he begins to make his way out of the hall. “Well that’s good. But I meant like, taking down two sets of notes? You were literally on fire in there.”
Mark chuckles as he holds the door open for you, allowing you to exit first with him following closely behind. “No, not really. I’m okay.”
You raise a questioning brow. “Sure?”
Mark nods, “Very sure.”
You feel yourself flinch when Mark’s fingertips graze your shoulder lightly, tugging at the only strap of your backpack that clung onto you before finally letting it fall into his fingers and into his grip, swinging it over his free shoulder.
You blink at him before frowning, noticing the burning sensation of where his fingers were. “What are you doing?”
Mark only smiles sheepishly at you. “Walking you to your next class. Lead the way?”
You try to hide the smile that’s desperate to form on your lips as well as the heat climbing up on your cheeks as you stand your ground.
“Mark my legs are fine to walk. It’s my arm that’s broken, remember?” You say, waving your cast-wrapped arm.
“I know that,” Mark simply replies, amused.
You didn’t want Mark to walk you to wherever your next class was because you feel you’ve had enough of him for the day. Enough of distractions.
You’re reaching out for your bag as you insist, “So you don’t have to walk me anywhere—“
You don’t finish your sentence when he swerves his shoulder away, leaving your arms hanging midair. He smiles at you again and he shrugs when he does. “Just let me.”
“But why? There’s really no need—”
“Because I want to.”
So here you were, weaving in and out of the sea of students in the corridors as you reach for your destination, Mark walking right beside you. You hadn’t spoken to him since, not really knowing what to say when he was so insistent and didn’t want to take a no for an answer. And because you were at a loss for words. He doesn’t speak either. But continues to smile instead.
When you do reach a door similar to the one you had walked into for your first class but on the other end of the building, Mark doesn’t hand you your backpack. He takes it upon himself to move closer to you to put it on your shoulder, taking the time to ensure it sat there snugly. And all you could do was watch.
He steps back a second after and rummages in his own bag to retrieve something. His hands emerges then with the notes he had taken earlier and extends them out to you. “Notes for this week. I hope they don’t disappoint.”
You smile at him gratefully before reaching your good arm out to take them from him. “I’m sure they won’t. Thanks.”
Mark zips his bag closed and swings it over his shoulder. “I better get to class. I’ll see you around?”
You nod. “Of course.”
He’s about to turn on his heels to walk away when he abruptly stops and turns back to you again. “Oh— I almost forgot. Do you like coffee?”
It takes you a moment to answer, taken aback by the random question. “Uh, I think I like hot chocolate better.”
Mark nods firmly then and waves a hand before walking away for real this time. You blink at his retreating figure and when he turns a corner and disappears completely, your eyes fall to the pages in your hand. You raise it closer to your vision when you find a small green sticky note stuck to the corner of the first page. And for the first time ever, you feel your pulse skip a beat.
“Study hard! But not too hard!”
Week four.
You never thought you’d see the day come where you would be excited for a Monday. You hated Mondays, truly. Mondays were long and tiring and you were always exhausted by the time the day finished and there would still be four days left of the week to hustle and bustle. But today was different because you were stepping on campus grounds with a smile on your face, not a frown, but a smile. The sun is shining so bright overhead and you can’t help but feel yet another bubble of happiness explode in your chest. You find it weird to be feeling this way at half eight in the morning because you would usually be walking into the building with a huff, contemplating and questioning your life decisions.
And you’re startled when you find Mark standing just by the door of the lecture hall you both shared every start of the week, because the way that your heart picks up its pace doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Mark is kicking at the floor lightly, glueing his eyes to the motions of his limbs and you stop dead in your tracks to just observe him for a while without his knowledge.
When Mark looks up to see you, he smiles like he usually does and you struggle to keep your insides calm because if you were being honest, he looked absolutely breathtaking. There’s something different about him today and when you let your eyes follow his movements as he walks towards you, that’s when you realise that for the first time he wasn’t hidden in his usual comfortable hoodies. Today, he’s wearing a white shirt half tucked into the material of his light blue jeans and finishing the look with a pair of clean white converse. His hair bounces with every step he takes and when your eyes fall onto his face, you can see his brown orbs radiate clearly under the stream of the sunlight in the absence of his glasses.
“Good morning,” he greets. “For you.”
It takes you a few seconds to fully register his words and when you finally do, you see a cup enveloped in his hand being offered to you.
“What’s this?” You ask confusedly, shifting your gaze from the cup to his face.
Mark smiles and forces the cup onto your left hand before leaning in slightly to tug at the strap of your bag just like how he did last week. Growing uncomfortable by the way your heart was hammering against your rib cage, you swiftly lower your shoulder so that Mark can take the object from you easier because you knew that the longer his fingers grazed your shoulder, the longer you were going to feel the knots in your stomach. You train your eyes to the floor just as Mark places your bag onto the opposite shoulder his own bag sat on.
“Hot chocolate,” Mark says, bringing your attention to the warm beverage now wrapped beneath your fingers. “Let’s get to class?”
So that’s why you were elated to face your Monday; you get to sit beside Mark and watch him diligently scribble perfect notes as he spares glances at you here and there accompanied with a small smile, as if to silently let you know that he was paying attention to you too. And contrary to last week, you didn’t even look away whenever he caught you already looking at him. You wanted to, but you simply couldn’t. And the way he takes the time to smile at you every now and then makes you feel it’s okay to do so, that it was okay to fixate your gaze on him while continued on with his task.
Your thumb fiddles with the cup of the hot chocolate that rests on your lap, thinking to yourself the possibility of falling for this boy. Because you could feel it. In between the hushed whispers in class, the unnecessary crinkle of his nose whenever you said a lousy joke and in the way your breath hitches whenever he got too close. You catch yourself falling in awe because four weeks wasn’t even that long to be harbouring feelings for someone you recalled to be a stranger who blended in well in the background just like you. But that’s when you realise that Mark never blended amongst the crowd like you. To you he was always a conscious presence, a presence you felt compelled towards but never really got the opportunity to uncover. And you think it’s because of his quiet demeanour that shielded many things underneath the comfort of his oversized hoodies that leaves you wondering and pondering what he could possibly be like.
You smile because you discover it for yourself. You get to experience what he’s really like. Mark is sweet. And gentle. And comfortable to be around with when he isn’t causing you to almost hyperventilate.
“Why are you smiling?” Mark asks in a whisper, leaning slightly towards you as the professor’s voice continues to boom throughout the hall.
You shake your head silently with a shrug of your shoulders. “Just because.”
Mark continues to stare at you (your lips), his pen in his hand and ponders for a few seconds.
“I like it.”
Your eyes widen slightly and you don’t get the chance to throw him a questioning look because he’s already turned away to resume on catching the professor’s words on paper.
Once the hour is up, Mark is walking you to your next class again, allowing his memory lead the way through the corridors. You traipse along with him, the now half empty beverage being the only thing you were carrying as he refused not to carry your belongings for you earlier. You drown into small conversation with him, relishing in the feeling of being calm for the first time since meeting Mark today. You laugh at something he says, your hearty laugh echoing in his ears that encourage him to laugh with you. He places your bag on your shoulder again, just like how he did last week when you both reach the familiar entrance of another hall.
“I put the notes in your bag,” Mark says as he runs a hand through his hair when it gets caught in his eyes. “Enjoy class.”
You smile gratefully at him though feeling sad on the inside with the thought of not seeing him anymore until next week. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you next Monday then?”
Mark is rocking on his toes and he averts his eyes from yours, training his gaze to the ground for a second or two before looking up at you again. He rests his hand on the strap of his bag while the other flies a hand to the nape of his neck, a gesture that reminds you of the very first day he wrote your material for you.
“Actually, I wanted to ask if you’re free this Friday?” Mark asks, a shy smile eminent on his lips.
You can’t help but smile at the sight, an inkling of hope sparking in you that he might be feeling the same way you did. Not wanting to assume so soon, you muster up the courage to clarify his intentions.
Mark drops his hand from his neck and opts to stuff into the pocket of his jeans instead, his little bashful gestures tugging at your heartstrings.
“Yeah. There’s a café that recently opened nearby and I wanted to ask if you’d like to come and check it out with me? I heard they make really nice hot chocolates,” he explains and you take note of the tint of rose spreading across his cheeks.
You pretend to think about his proposal, not wanting to sound so eager when in reality, you’ve already made up your mind even before he even got to ask.
“I finish at six that day, is that okay?” You say after a while, feeling giddy and excited at the thought of spending your Friday evening with the cute boy in the white shirt.
Mark’s face lightens up and the grip on your cup involuntarily tightens because of how happy he looked with your reply.
“Of course. That’s great,” he says, grinning.
You fumble at each other’s phone then to exchange numbers with the promise of Mark texting you before he walks away to get to his own class. You enter your lecture hall not too long after and settle in your seat. When you come across the sight of Mark’s familiar handwriting on the pages that are neatly tucked away in your book, you curiously take it out of your bag and examine the newly jotted notes, growing more and more accustomed to your routine with him.
You don’t fail to notice yet another green sticky note plastered on the corner of the first page and you feel yourself completely crumble altogether.
“You have a really pretty smile.”
You’re huffing and puffing when you feel your legs grow weaker by the second. There’s a burning sensation coating your lungs but you don’t stop running. It was approaching thirty minutes past six and you were late. The thought of Mark waiting for you sent guilt running up your spine. You finally round a corner and find him waiting patiently outside the said café. He’s wearing a dark grey sweater today, hair slightly tousled because of the wind that had just blown, staring out into the street in front of him.
“Oh my God I’m so sorry I’m late,” you say in between your heavy breaths once you reach him, your approaching figure catching his attention. You’re leaning slightly forward and clutching your chest with your broken arm to catch your breath.
As if on instinct, Mark takes the book you’re holding on to so tightly in your hand that you had failed to stuff in your bag after rushing to get here when your last class ended later than usual. He proceeds to take your bag from you too, something that felt too natural now.
Mark only smiles at you when he takes your belongings and holds them as if they were his. “It’s alright. No worries. I didn’t wait much.”
You let out a huge breath. “How long have you been waiting?”
Thirty minutes. Mark shrugs his shoulders, “I just got here.”
Not buying his lie, you walk past him and enter the café first, the bell signalling customers had arrived. “Okay, I’m paying.”
Mark frowns just behind you. “No. I asked you to come. I’m paying.”
“Yes but I was late so I’m making up for it,” you retorted and find a table by the corner. You slip into the seat as Mark settles on the seat opposite you.
“Mark, I’m paying.”
Sighing dejectedly, Mark slumps his shoulders in defeat. You smile victoriously and take the time to appreciate the coziness of the place you had just entered. Dark wooden walls enclosed the area, round tables spread generously throughout the space with little light bulbs hanging from the ceiling, emitting a mellow glow of yellow all around. There’s soft jazz music playing in the background and you’re immediately enthralled with how warm it makes you feel on the inside. You weren’t one to opt for cafés usually but this one was definitely on the top of your non-existent list.
“I like it here already,” you perk up, attracting Mark’s attention who had been focused on the small menu set on the table.
Mark smiles in content. “Yeah? I’m glad.”
A few minutes of deciding after, Mark rises and walks to the counter to order and you take this opportunity to fix yourself up, patting your hair down from the frantic running earlier. It isn’t too long before you see Mark emerging to reach for his seat again. When he sits in front you, you recognise the way he isn’t wearing his glasses again and you’re reminded by the shining of his eyes. You feel conscious under his stare because he’s leaning on the table, resting on his crossed arms and you try to shy away from it by looking elsewhere.
“Rough day today?” He asks, concerned.
You momentarily close your eyes and release a sigh before opening them again. “Very. Today felt so long.”
“Yeah?” Mark asks as if to confirm, a habit of his you found somehow captivating. “Tell me about it.”
So you do. You ramble on about how each class seemed to dragged on forever and how your merciless professors are piling up work on top of work with no hesitation. You vent out all your frustrations because the stress was getting to you. But you don’t tell him about the excitement of meeting him that kept you moving forward to survive the horrible day. He didn’t need to know that one.
“Oh— I’m sorry, that must have been so boring to listen to,” you cut yourself off in the middle of another sentence when you start talking about the frustration of working in a group with students who weren’t as dedicated on putting in work as much as you were.
You expect to find Mark dozing off at your ramblings, but instead, you find him in the same position he was earlier, leant forward, smiling at you and nodding to every word that left your mouth.
“No it’s not. Keep talking,” he assures. You’re oblivious as to how he finds fascination in your voice.
You’re about to protest when the waitress comes to deliver what Mark had ordered earlier. She carefully sets two hot chocolates in front you followed by slices of blueberry and chocolate cheesecakes. You thank the waitress along with Mark and that’s when you notice she’s unmoving in her spot, taking a good look at Mark. She looks about your age, long black hair tied loosely past her shoulders. Mark is slower to notice her attention and you feel queasy when there’s an unfamiliar feeling forming in your gut.
You see Mark shift in his seat uncomfortably when he thanks the waitress again. She mumbles a quick welcome before walking away, cheeks tinted. You smile in amusement when Mark regains his composure, tugging at his sweater.
“I think she likes you,” you point out, stirring your hot chocolate with the small spoon.
Mark chuckles lightly and shakes his head as he follows what you’re doing. “Nah, probably not.”
“Her stare says otherwise,” you prod, surprised by the way your tone sounded rigid.
“Doesn’t matter,” Mark dismisses and looks at you as he wraps his slender fingers around his mug, nodding his head at your mug . “Try it and see if it lives up to your expectations.”
You divert you eyes to your hot chocolate before lifting the mug and letting your tastebuds become coated with the warm liquid. It brings you waves of calm and you savour the sweet taste, forgetting about the eventful day that sent you to unimaginable stress. When you let the mug down in its original place on the table, you hum in contentment.
“Okay that’s really good,” you say, using your tongue to remove the excess that had managed to stay on your top lip.
Mark follows suit and takes his first sip, agreeing with you when he gets a taste. You lose yourselves into your conversations then, swapping your cakes with each other in between so that you can both challenge who had the better cake. You learn about Mark’s family and his love for instruments and anything that had to do with music; something he said no one really knew about. He learns about you in return and your family that lives miles away in England. You tell him how much you miss them, especially your little brother who’s just three years of age and Mark empathises with you when he tells you his family lives in Canada. Both of you jump from one topic to another, discovering more similarities than you would’ve thought and challenging each other’s views on certain subjects that required a lot more thought. Regardless, every single conversation is smooth flowing and there’s an abundance of laughs in between transitions. You grow to like the crinkling of Mark’s nose when he laughs while Mark on the other hand, revels in how light your laugh makes him feel. And even though the place is filled with the distant chatters of other people sipping on their coffee, both of you take no notice of them, heavily engaged into whatever you were talking about.
You feel a newly uncovered connection with Mark and you wonder if he felt the same way.
It’s a little past nine when you both call it a night and rise from the table you both had grown comfortable in. You walk towards the counter with the intent to pay only to be notified that everything has been paid for already. You turn to raise a questioning brow at Mark who only smiles sheepishly at you.
“I told you I’d pay,” you say once you exit the cozy café.
“No. I asked you to come so it’s only right that I pay,” Mark defends. “Besides, it’s an excuse for me to see you again. You can treat me next time.”
You grow silent at his reply and internally surrender when his words sends your heart in a frenzy. Mark walks you to your apartment situated ten minutes away from where your university was. It’s as if you two never the left the café because you’re still laughing during your conversations even at the cringeworthy puns Mark makes every chance he got. You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed this much, only ever basking in the feeling of longing you had for your family back home. You weren’t the type to make friends either, hence spending the majority of your time by yourself. However being with Mark felt like a breath of fresh air. He made interacting feel easier which was a surprise to you because it’s always been something you’ve struggled with.
You reach your apartment building just as you finish chuckling at something he said. He hands you your book and the bag he had claimed before leaving the café earlier.
“Thanks for today, I had a lot of fun,” you say genuinely, adjusting your bag with your good hand.
Stuffing his hands into the pocket of his jeans, Mark smiles with a nod. “Me too. I’ll see you Monday?”
You nod carefully and you take this as your queue to head inside but the way Mark is smiling at you endearingly, eyes forming crescent moons screams at your insides to do something else. All the rationality in your system seem to fly out the window when you’re taking a step towards him, leaning on your toes to reach up and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. You’re embarrassed by your actions but not as embarrassed as Mark who’s blushing like mad and training his eyes to the ground in vain attempts of hiding the heat that’s spreading across his face.
“See you on Monday,” you say with a satisfied smile.
Week five.
Five weeks with a cast around your arm and you were living completely fine with it. Tasks didn’t bother you anymore, applying your own know-how’s on how to handle such chores. The only thing bothered you was when the skin under the hard material itched so bad you could literally only writhe your fingers in hopes of consoling yourself until you realise it doesn’t work and silently hope for the discomfort to end instead. Mark texts you right after you part from him that Friday night. Even thought it was a mere good night, sleep well it was more than enough for you to grin like an idiot as you reread the message over and over again. You furtively dread seeing him today as the sun rises, indicating another start to your work after burying yourself in work during the weekend, never leaving your room, because you remember that risky kiss you had impulsively planted on his cheek. You prepare yourself for the worst; Mark avoiding you and hiding himself because of what you did. But mentally argue with yourself; he texted you that night so that might mean you didn’t scare him away completely. Regardless, you silently wish you hadn’t been so irrational and let your emotions take over.
You walk in the building, half hoping to see Mark wait for you by the door you entered together for the past few weeks now. And you know you’re in deep trouble because you’re already expecting to see him first thing on a Monday morning; an unconscious confirmation of your desire to spend at least an hour with him.
You pick up the way your muscles relax unintentionally when you catch sight of him already looking towards your direction with his usual smile. He’s wearing his glasses today and the sight of his round specs make you realise you kind of missed them. When you reach him, he extends out the familiar cup of hot chocolate in his hand and extends his other free hand in place for your bag. You roll your eyes playfully, butterflies reeling in your stomach as you trade.
“I really don’t understand why you have to carry my bag. I’m perfectly able for that task,” you say when you’re hopping along the stairs of the hall, careful enough not to spill your beverage.
Mark chuckles behind you and follows you carefully as you shuffle into your usual row. “And I don’t understand why you protest so much. I told you before, I’m doing it because I want to.”
You sit yourself on the chair after you unfold it from its original state and give Mark an inquiring look. Mark follows suit and settles both of your bags below where he usually places them. “Why? Do you not like me doing it?”
You purse your lips as you try not to melt. He’s genuine with his question, feeling worried you might have developed a distaste for his actions. You shake your head, wondering if you wanted to be one hundred percent transparent so early in the day. But Mark is asking you with his eyes and you feel the urge to show an eighth of how you’ve been feeling.
“It’s not that,” you start. “It’s just I don’t want to get used to it and this,” you say as you raise the hot chocolate within his view. He glances at it and shifts his gaze onto you almost immediately, encouraging you to continue with a nod. “My cast comes off in a week Mark, and I don’t want myself to expect you doing these still when it does because I’m slowly growing used to all of this.”
Mark blinks a couple of times and you’re instantly regretting being so honest. You take a sip from your cup to comfort yourself in the sweet taste and to distract yourself from the words you had just let go of. You avoid Mark’s eyes which you can’t read at the moment.
“You really think I’m doing all of this because of your cast?”
You snap your head towards his direction. “Aren’t you? And because of guilt maybe?”
He stays silent after and you take the opportunity to emphasise your opinion.
“I’ve already told you it’s okay. My broken arm wasn’t anybody’s fault and that there’s nothing to be sorry for—“
“I know that. And I took your word for it,” Mark interrupts, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Which is why I kept telling you that I’m not doing it out of anything— not out of guilt, not out of obligation. But because I simply want to.” Mark inhales a breath and runs a hand through his hair.
“And I’m going to keep doing it for you, your arm broken or not.”
And that’s it. You finally melt. And the the crescent of his smiling eyes with the emergence of his chiseled cheekbones when he smiles doesn’t help the butterflies in your stomach calm their whimsical wings, tickling you ever so lightly.
Mark doesn’t speak anymore as the class begins and you’re left alone with your haywire thoughts. And you grow even more embarrassed for the rest of the day when you read your note for the day, presenting itself in the usual green sticky note attached to your notes.
“You look really cute when you’re flustered.”
In the middle of the week, you find yourself seated on a bench overlooking the wide green football pitch as you skim over Mark’s notes, revising the topic you hadn’t paid much attention to during the actual lecture. It’s one in the afternoon which meant that you had an hour for lunch so here you were, finding solace in the silence under the shade of a tree to protect yourself from the sun. You trace your fingers under the ink as you read every bullet point, occasionally looking up to stare into the distance to mentally repeat what you’ve just read to check how immersed you were in your study.
You feel your phone vibrate just beside you and you reach for it, eyes unwavering from the page. You read one more sentence before switching your attention to your phone. Mark’s name displays on the screen, indicating a new message from him.
Did you have lunch yet?
Your thumbs tap on your device in a fluid manner hitting the send button not too long after to tell him no and that you weren’t feeling hungry. You don’t get a reply within the time frame that Mark usually replies in and so you set your phone back on the bench, eyes travelling to your notes once again. A few minutes later, a pair of shoes appears just in front of you and slowly, you peel your eyes away from Mark’s handwriting to see who your company was.
Mark is smiling down at you just as he leans down slightly to settle a brown paper bag just on the unoccupied space of the bench beside you. You smile in return, happy at the sight of him.
“What are you doing here?” You ask curiously when he stands back up.
Mark is rocking back and forwards on his toes again. “I was walking by and I saw you. Figured I’d say hi.”
“Well, hello,” you answer playfully.
Mark grins bashfully, running a hand through his hair. “I actually have class now so I have to go.”
“So you came to actually say bye,” you tease, a playful eyebrow raised as you cross your arms across your chest.
“Trust me I don’t want to say bye but I have to get this degree,” he says, playing along with you.
You chuckle and he mirrors your actions. “Alright,” you say and wave a hand. He turns on his heels then and leave you alone again in your silence. When he’s no longer in view, your eyes fall to the brown bag he had placed before you earlier. You pick it up and rip the familiar green sticky note off of the thin material of the bag, finding Mark’s writing etched on it.
“Please don’t skip your meals ㅠ ㅠ Studying is good but not when you’re missing food.”
You smile to yourself and find a sandwich hidden inside the bag with a bottle of orange juice. A chuckle escapes your mouth when you pick up yet another sticky note that’s plastered on the sandwich.
“This isn’t much but it’ll do for now. We’ll get proper food this Friday. If you’re up for it.”
Mark was sweet. As always.
It’s Friday. And you’re walking alongside Mark along the streets of the city, allowing your eyes wander all around the buildings you happen to pass by as you savour the taste of the vanilla ice cream sitting perfectly on your cone. Mark upheld his suggestion in taking you out for dinner once again and after losing yet another debate on who pays for the meal, you suggested to buy him ice cream instead, insisting until he finally caved in and gave you what you wanted. There’s a smile playing on your lips when you see Mark indulge in his watermelon flavoured ice cream. He wasn’t carrying your usual backpack today. Instead, he slung your small handbag across his shoulders and let it rest slightly above his hip.
“So where would you like to go next week?” Mark suddenly asks after licking his dessert.
“Next week?” You ask inquisitively.
Mark nods, eyes ahead. “Is there anything you’re craving?”
You narrow your eyes at his side view, not really sure if you wanted to ask the question burning in your mind for the longest time. But you decide against it and decide to go along with his suggestions instead.
“Not that I can think of, no,” you simply reply.
Mark purses his lips in thought. “Hm. How about burgers? Pizza? Pasta?”
You take another lick off your ice cream as you consider the variety of food mentioned. “Burgers sound good.”
Mark nods proudly, biting into his cone. “Burgers it is then. I’ll look for good places around.”
You chuckle when he gets some ice cream on his nose and you don’t for one second hesitate to reach out and wipe it away with the tissue in your free hand. He merely watches your moves and blink right after you succeed in wiping his face clean. “Is this food hunt a weekly thing now?”
You don’t notice Mark stiffen and regain his composure as he trails his eyes ahead, obviously taken aback by your touch because as far as he could remember, he’d always been the one on the giving end, except for that one kiss you had given him. He clears his throat then and proceeds on focusing on his dessert to distract himself from the warmth spreading across his cheeks.
“It could be. If you want,” he says.
You nudge his side playfully, “It could be if you’d let me pay.”
Mark quirks a smile. “I let you pay earlier didn’t I?”
You roll your eyes playfully at him, causing him to emit another chuckle. “That was dessert. I mean like a proper meal.”
Mark takes a step closer to you unknowingly. “I’m the one asking you out on dates. So it’s on me.”
Your head whizzes towards his direction and an eyebrow shoots up immediately. There were times you’d wonder if the last Friday and today were considered as dates. But you never dwelled on it and opted to treat them as two friends hanging out and checking out cozy places but now that Mark has said it himself, a new set of questions seeped into your mind.
Munching on the last bit of his cone, Mark nods with a smile, slightly amused at your incredulous face. He stuffs his hand in his pocket and meet your eyes. “Dates. What have you been thinking all this time?”
You continue to blink at him, unmoving, not realising you’ve stopped walking, people weaving around you. Mark stops with you and waits for your reply.
“I- I don’t know,” you say truthfully. “I thought we were just grabbing food together.”
Mark chuckles lowly and lifts a hand to rub the nape of his neck, a shy smile forming on his lips. “I’m sorry. I was wrong on my part. I didn’t make myself clear enough, did I?”
Your mouth is now hanging slightly open.
“Okay,” Mark says when he sees you still confused. “I want to take you out on a date next week. Let’s get some burgers?”
You finally snap out of your trance when a stranger’s shoulder bumps into yours, making you lose your balance slightly. Mark is quick to reach out to you and grab a hold of your arms to stabilise you, his touch sending surges of electricity through the fabric of your sweater.
You try to laugh off your embarrassing faces just now as you begin to walk ahead, wiping your hand that had been dripped on by your melting ice cream. “We’re not even dating,” you say in a light tone in attempts to hide the erratic beating of your heart.
Mark walks until he’s beside you, close enough that his shoulder touches with yours.
“Yeah? Maybe we should start dating then.”
Week six.
Mark’s words eat at you the whole weekend that passes and it isn’t helping that he’s smiling at you more often now, his nose crinkling and his eyes disappearing. Nevertheless, you can’t shrug off the light weight settling in your chest whenever he momentarily shifts his eyes from the notes he’s writing to you only for his lips to curl upwards into a small smile. There’s another hot chocolate sitting at your desk and you feel it tastes even sweeter today. When Mark brings you to your next class, his gaze lingers on you a little longer and you’re tempted to cower away so that he doesn’t see you becoming flustered because his eyes spoke too much and it was enough to terrify you; you feel yourself losing to him. His notes are in your hands and the small green in the corner catches your eye immediately. He doesn’t leave though, staring at you, silently encouraging you to read what he had written for you today.
Go on a date with me?
And when you look back up at him, he’s just smiling, hands buried deep within his pockets and balancing his weight back and forth his toes.
Lunch times were no longer spent on your own because Mark made an effort to cross from his building which was all the way on the other end of the campus to yours just so he could eat with and talk to you. It’s Thursday and you’re watching him curiously as he twiddles with the marker in between his fingers, twirling it skilfully, another habit of his you had picked up whenever he paused from writing. Your casted arm is laid on the table just below him. He had asked you earlier if he could write on it since it would be coming off this weekend and you agreed without hesitation, giddy at the thought of having a part of Mark with you.
When you happen to glance at the time on your phone, you reluctantly take your arm off of the table, Mark following your every move.
“I’ve class. I have to go,” you say simply as you gather your things. “Still can’t decide what to write?”
Mark shakes his head and gets up from his chair when you do, stuffing the last of your things into your bag and grabbing it to swing on his shoulder but just as he’s about to do so, you grab his arm and stop and him.
“You stay here. I can walk to class on my own,” you assure him.
“Are we going to do this again? I want—“
You halt his words with a firm nod of your head, your lips quirking up into a smile. “I know that.” A soft chuckle leaves your lips as you reach out and plant a pink sticky note on his forehead.
Mark stares at you on confusion, his face adorable.
“I’ll see you this Friday then?” You say with a wink before walking away to leave.
Mark watches you before raising his hand to pluck the sticky note off his forehead.
I would love to go on date with you.
Mark surprises you once again when he holds out a bouquet of fresh sunflowers to you hiding behind a bashful smile shielded with the crescent moon of his eyes and cheekbones as prominent as ever. There’s heat creeping up on your cheeks as you take the flowers from him.
“Sunflowers?” You ask curiously, taking in the beauty of each one. The sight of the bright yellow alone is enough to make you happy from the inside.
Mark smiles shyly and runs a hand through his hair. “Umm,” he starts, obviously hesitating. You take your eyes away from the flowers and encourage him to continue with a nod of your head and a smile on your lips. “It’s going to sound so cheesy but... you remind me of sunflowers, that’s why.”
You can’t help the smile on your face from reaching one ear to the other, melting slowly by his sheepish confession. “It’s not cheesy, Mark. It’s sweet.”
Mark grins, his eyes smiling along.
“And thank you, I love them.”
And just like the previous Fridays, you block the whole world out as you and Mark talk about life, memories, people and the world. You get a better understanding of Mark and you let yourself open up to him knowing it was exactly that he wanted you to do. And it feels light. It feels weightless. Exposing your worries, concerns and dreams with Mark doesn’t feel hard to do because you feel your secrets are safe with him. You feel safe with him. Every word that leaves your mouth registers in Mark’s mind without missing a syllable and he makes a vow never to forget a single one because if anything, you sharing everything that was kept under your façade was all he’s ever wanted you to do. So that you don’t have to carry the burden alone. So that you didn’t feel alone. And Mark does his best to make you feel like you aren’t, in the way he responds to you, in the way he never takes his eyes off of you and in the way he reaches out to wrap your hand under his when the words get caught in your throat.
Mark doesn’t let go of your hand the whole walk home. You expected to feel your heart jump right out of your chest the moment he took your hand in his and effortlessly intertwine his fingers in between yours, but instead, the moment felt all too natural, and you felt calm, comfortable even. Mark feels warm and you instinctively lean closer to him when a gush of wind blows and you’re oblivious to the way he smiles above you when you do.
“Today was something else,” you mumble when you reach a familiar building.
Mark smiles at you, not ready to let go of your hand just yet, your bouquet of flowers nestling in his other arm, “Yeah. It was.”
Mark is rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of your hand and you momentarily wish that you could stay like this for a little longer. “Thank you for today. It was the best first date I could ever ask for.”
“Yeah? I’m glad. I had an amazing time too,” Mark replies, cheekbones evident on his chiselled face. “I always do, with you.”
You frown at him as an attempt to mask your frustration away. This boy was definitely something. “Right. Well, I should get going. Thank you for bringing me home.”
Mark nods but his hand remains unmoving in yours and you’re chuckling when you feel him give your hand a squeeze. Instead of prying his hold off you, you close the gap between the both of you and lean on your toes to plant a soft peck on his cheek. When you pull away with a smile, his grip on your hand loosen then and you take this opportunity to take your hand away along with the sunflowers. He’s blinking at you, taken aback by your actions just like the very first time you boldly kissed him.
“Good night, Mark,” you mumble bashfully and turn on your heels to walk away. It isn’t long before he’s calling your name again.
“Hey Y/N?”
“Would it be okay.. If I go to the hospital with you tomorrow?”
You smile gives your answer away even before you could utter a reply.
“I’d love that.”
“You never got to write on my cast,” you point out as you exit the hospital. You’re flailing your right arm around slightly, trying to get used to the sensation you didn’t feel for six weeks.
You feel Mark shrug beside you, “That’s okay. I still have plenty of sticky notes left.”
This makes you laugh and you shake your head at him. “Whatever you say.”
It isn’t long before Mark finds your right hand and laces it with his left. “It feels nice to be holding this hand.”
You raise a playful brow. “So my left one isn’t as nice?”
Mark chuckles and gives your hand a squeeze. “I’m just saying I’m going to be doing this much more often.”
You challenge him, scooting closer, “Because?”
Mark doesn’t respond, caught in between your playful question. The sun is shining up so high in the sky and there are no clouds present to intervene with the bright light. There’s a bubble of happiness bursting in his chest and he smiles ahead, growing all too familiar with the sensation.
“I guess this is the part where I confess, right?”
You whip your head towards him in a heartbeat. “What?”
Mark is trying not to notice your furrowed eyebrows as he continues to stare ahead. “You know, I think it was a good thing I broke your arm.”
You blink at him, confused. “What?”
Mark cranes his neck towards you to look at you. “Because it finally gave me a reason to talk to you.”
“Okay I’m confused,” you say defeated, halting in your steps and unlatching your hand from his. You cross your arms across your chest and wait for him to explain.
Mark chuckles at your actions and you could almost guess what he’s about to do next when you see a bashful smile playing on his lips; stuffing one hand into the pocket of his jeans and the other flies up to rub the nape of his neck.
“Okay, here goes nothing,” Mark starts. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you Y/N ever since... Probably ever since the first time I saw you walk through our anatomy and physiology lectures which was what? Like the start of this year right? And I know I should have just manned up and talked to you right there and then but I couldn’t bring myself to. I think I got scared and.. nervous.” 
He pauses as he laughs awkwardly, recalling all the times he’d watch you carefully sit down in your favourite seat of the lecture hall. 
“I was really really curious about you, not in a creepy way, trust me. I just really wanted to know you but I didn’t know how. It just so happened that I was late for class one day and ended up knocking you down with my bike.”
“So breaking my arm was a ploy to talk to me?”
“Y/N that’s not what I meant, I—“
You laugh at his reaction, heart fluttering at his cute confession. Mark still looks flustered and he’s averting his eyes everywhere but you and you find him even more endearing then. That’s when you take a step closer and wrap your arms around his neck.
“Well then, I thank you for being late to class that day,” you whisper. “The past six weeks have been the easiest for me despite the broken arm.” You smile to yourself when you feel Mark’s arms wrap around your waist. “And I guess this is the part I confess too? I like you too, Mark.”
Mark doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tightens his arms around you and buries his head into the crook of your neck.
Week seven. 
Over the week, your texts and calls with Mark become more frequent and he no longer waits until Friday to take you out on dates, managing to squeeze in picnic dates in between free periods and staying back after lectures to study together in the library. If Mark was sweet before the confession, he was even sweeter after telling you how he felt about you.
I really really like you.
You look really pretty today.
Well— you always do.
But yeah, I can’t believe you like me too?
Like wow.
You give Mark an incredulous look when your eyes fall onto the set of green sticky notes he had plastered on your book in a span of two minutes. How could you even manage to study when he was being like this? Mark only smiles at you innocently before training his eyes onto his book again. Shaking your head in disapproval (even though you adored each one of his quick notes), you resume on typing your half finished essay. Not even ten minutes into your work, you feel Mark scurry to write another note on his small pad. Ten seconds later, he sticks it right on the screen of your laptop, right where you can see it straight away.
Scratch that. You’re beautiful. I hope you know that.
“I remember that one time, I dropped my pencil case in the middle of the corridor and you picked it up for me as you were passing by,” Mark says, adjusting your bag on his shoulder. “And even then, I couldn’t say anything to you.”
You laugh and play with the stem of the sunflower in your hand, one that Mark had given you after meeting you when your lectures ended. “But why? Am I that intimidating?”
“No,” Mark says. “I told you, I was just always so nervous around you.”
You laugh playfully and nudge his shoulder. “Are you still nervous now?”
Mark smiles and stops for a moment, “You have no idea.”
You sigh exasperatedly turning your whole body to face him. “Mark you’re making me flustered. Stop that,” finally expressing a fraction of how he really made you feel. 
“Stop what?” Mark teases.
“That thing you do. I don’t know what it’s called,” you say with hand motions. “Did you know you have a way with words?”
Mark shakes his head, feigning innocence, enjoying the sight of the pink shade on your cheeks. “That’s a first. But maybe because I’m with you?”
You close your eyes briefly to collect yourself because right now you were absolutely melting and it didn’t look like Mark was going to stop anytime soon. “You’re enjoying this too much aren’t you?”
Mark shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You roll your eyes playfully at him as you hold the sunflower in front of him. This was the fourth sunflower of the week and although you loved every single one, you couldn’t help but be curious.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why sunflowers? I know you said they remind you of me, but I want to know how.”
Mark shifts his gaze on the yellow flower before fixating his gaze on you, eyes smiling.
“Sunflowers make me happy whenever I see them. And that’s exactly how I feel when I see you,” Mark replies straightforwardly, as if it was the one thing he was most sure about in the whole world.
You silently regret asking because you weren’t prepared for what he was actually about to say. You should know by now; Mark always always had a way with his words.
“Cheesy right?” Mark chuckles, mentally reprimanding himself for being so smitten by you to the point where this side of him shows involuntarily.
You shake your head, giving him a smile.
“It’s not cheesy, Mark. It’s sweet.”
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freakynct · a year ago
「 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 」
— 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 —
warnings: church boy!mark, unprotected sex, praising, dirty talk, public sex, slight corruption kink, fingering and degradation if you squint
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every week you would patiently wait for sunday to roll around, the day when you would wear that cute white dress, slightly too short for the ocasion, which would make your mom throw a cardigan over your shoulders to compensate for the skin exposure, and you would do your hair and makeup all pretty even tho you knew that mark was going to fuck you so good that all of that would go to waste. but you still did it, because you knew how much his eyes sparkled and darkened when he saw you all pretty for him.
you saw mark at the end of the hall next to his dad when you and your parents entered church, everyone sitting down waiting for the mass to start. his eyes met yours and you could see a little smirk forming of his lips, making you rub your thighs together at the anticipation.
"i'm gonna go sit in the back with my friends, ok?" you asked your parents already walking towards the seats in the back. "ok, but i don't want you playing around while the mass is going, you hear me?" your mom almost shouted at you and you just replied with a simple "yes mom", watching them finally settling down in their seats.
you weren't going to meet any friends, it was just an excuse to wait for mark so you could escape in the middle of the ceremony to go somewhere quieter. and so it was, a few minutes after the mass had started you felt mark sitting down next to you. you didn't look at him, focusing on what his dad, the pastor, was saying but he grabbed your hand that was placed next to you on the seat, his thumb gently rubbing over your skin.
"you look beautiful." he whispered, his lips getting closer to your ear. "you really know what turns me on, don't you?" you almost jumped from your seat when you felt his hand slowly going up your thigh, lifting the hem of your dress in the process. oh you knew. you knew he loved this dress and this was exactly what you wanted.
"i missed you." you whispered softly, finally turning your head to look in his eyes, your lips almost touching due to the fact that he was still leaning over you. his eyes darkened at your words and he grabbed your hand again, both of you getting up and exiting the building carefully so no one would see you.
mark pushed your back so hard against the concrete wall that you had to close your eyes for a second and he took advantage, kissing you so desperately, groaning when he saw the string of spit that connected your lips to his when he pulled away. his hand went under the skirt of your dress, feeling the wetness on your cotton panties with the tip of his fingers.
"i see you've been thinking about me." he chuckled, rubbing your clit over the fabric, a whine coming out of your mouth. "everybody thinks you're such a good girl. i wish they could see what a slut you really are, soaking your panties just from thinking about fucking the pastor's son." you let out a louder moan when you felt two of his fingers pushing your underwear aside, easing their way through your folds, pumping them at a painfully slow pace.
you threw your arms over his shoulders, trying to pull him closer to you, the back of your head resting on the wall behind you, moaning and whimpering at the feeling of his long fingers inside of you, but you wanted more. "m-mark..." you whined and he smirked, looking at your fucked out expression. he slowly took his fingers out of you and grabbed your chin so you would part your lips, allowing him to push his fingers, covered in your juices, inside your mouth. you sucked on them immediately, hearing a soft grunt coming from mark. "god, i can't wait to have you cumming on my cock." you clenched your thighs at the thought.
he grabbed your waist and turned you around, your hands flat on the wall for balance. he bunched your dress around your waist and slid your panties down your legs, putting them inside the pocket of his pants. they would keep him company during the week when he couldn't be with you, just until next sunday, when he would be able to touch you again. you heard him unbuckling his belt and you looked around, nervous but excited at the thought of having someone walking in on you. fucking outside in the back of the church wasn't the smartest idea but it turned you on, made you feel naughty which you never were. mark interrupted your thoughts by slamming his cock inside of you, stretching you out around him. you bit your bottom lip hard, trying not to scream at the feeling of him fitting inside you perfectly.
"f-fuck baby, you're always so tight." he moaned, sliding your hair out of the way, exposing your neck to his lips, leaving wet kisses all over the skin while he slowly started moving inside you, the feeling so good that you rolled your eyes back, resting your head on his shoulder. mark's hands grabbed your hips tightly and he moved slightly to get more confortable which made his cock touch your sweet spot, catching you of guard, a loud whine leaving your lips. you quickly covered your mouth with your hand and mark chuckled. "does that feel good, baby? s-shit... if you keep clenching around me like that i'm gonna cum." he groaned with his lips still pressed against your shoulder. his arm came around you and his fingers started circling your clit, so fast that the feeling made you light headed for a second.
"m-mark... i... mark i think i'm g-gonna." and you were coming undone around his cock, body quivering from how strong it hit you, your hand coming down to hold his wrist, his fingers still working on your clit, guiding you through your orgasm.
"b-baby, i think i'm coming too." mark moaned and you could feel how his thrusts were getting sloppy, your eyes widening when you remembered he wasn't wearing a condom.
"you can't come inside me!" you turned your head to try and look at him but his eyes were closed in pure bliss and you realized how cute he looked when he was about to cum, the bad boy persona fading away.
"i'll just come on your b-back." he responded but you couldn't get your dress dirty, what would your parents say if they saw your back stained. his cock twitched inside you and you were quick to pull him away, hearing him gasp when he suddenly felt empty, looking at you confused.
you turned around and quickly dropped to your knees, opening your mouth. "come in my mouth." was all you said before seeing mark furrowing his eyebrows and biting on his bottom lip, his hand coming down to stroke at this cock.
"you'll be the death of me, baby." he moaned, the sound so sweet in your ears that you let a small smile appear of your lips. he let his cock enter your mouth just slightly and you sucked on the tip and soon enough you were feeling the thick warm liquid filling your throat and mouth, being careful not to let anything slip out. he pulled away when he was done and you swallowed everything, gaining a grunt from his part.
you quickly got up as soon as you heard the church bells ringing, indicating that the mass was over. your eyes widened and you pulled your dress down, trying to fix your your hair and makeup to the best of your habilities while mark was busy tucking his cock and shirt inside of his pants again. "fuck, my mom is going to kill me if she sees that i'm gone!" you said now walking towards the front of the church in a hurry, mark following right behind you.
"wait!" he shouted, grabbing your wrist and turning you around, his lips slamming against yours for a passionate but slow kiss and you melted in his embrace. he pulled away when he heard the sound of the main door opening and everyone started to get out, distracted talking to each other. unfortunately your mom and dad were already rushing your way, anger visible in their faces and you cursed mentally.
"where were you, y/n?!" your mom shouted, stopping right in front of you and mark.
you were about to make an excuse but mark beat you at it. "mrs. y/l/n, y/n wasn't feeling well so i took her outside to get some fresh air. i'm so sorry if i made her miss the mass but i didn't want her to throw up inside, you know?" you looked at mark and saw how his facial features had changed completely now that he was standing in front of your parents, almost like when he was about to cum, minus the moaning and orgasm face. his eyes were big, almost puppy-like and he just looked so innocent and cute, you couldn't help but smile and so did your mom.
"oh, don't worry mark. thank you for taking care of our daughter. sometimes i wish she was more like you." she leaned to him to whisper the last part and they giggled as if you were not just standing there next to them. "tell your dad that the mass was great, ok son?" your dad patted him in the back and mark flinched a little, almost as if he was terrified of your dad's touch which he probably was, considering what he had just done to his daughter.
everyone waved goodbye and as you were walking to the car you turned around, seeing mark staring at you with a smirk on his face. you looked down and you saw how he had pulled a part of your white cotton panties from his pocket, only now realizing that you weren't wearing underwear all this time. you made eye contact with mark, blushing, and he winked at you, turning around and walking towards his dad.
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yehetbitchtrash · a year ago
Husband 127
Proposal + Wedding
Taeil | Johnny | Taeyong | Yuta | Doyoung | Jaehyun | Jungwoo | Mark | Haechan
A/N: Hi hello, welcome to my Husband!Nct series. I’m really excited for this and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i do writing it. I’m gonna do bullet points for things like this but little scenarios here and there. You can even request small things too if you want.Mwah x
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You and Johnny had been together what 3 years?
3 and half if you count Johnny telling everyone you were his gf as a joke
(it wasn’t he just really liked you and was too much of a pussy too actually say)
Considering how long you two had been together, you would think Johnny would have this proposal thing in the bag.
lmao sure ok
Johnny was a fucking wreck.
Other than the fact he was going to have to ask you to be his wife
He was going to have to ask for help
I feel like Johnny likes to do everything by himself when it comes to you
makes it more special for the both of you ygm
but this was WAY to big for him to achieve by himself
so ofc my guy turns to best bud Mark
he was useless
so Jaehyun steps in
Now Jaehyun was the best guy for the job
hyped up Johnny
“Dude, trust me she’s gonna say yes even if you trip and the box opens in front of her”
helps pick venues
even offered to fly in both your parents for the occasion
how cute
The rest was up to Johnny
Johnny being Johnny decided it would be cute to take you out
not out, out for dinner or something
this is sir Johnny Suh we’re on about here
I’m talking taking you to make you’re own jewellery
wink wonk
do you see where I’m going with this
Now Johnny isn’t going to make you make your own engagement ring
especially if your shit at it
more along the lines of hinting small things while making cute rings
“I bet you’d look cute in this”
“I really think diamonds suit your hand”
“Imagine you wearing this for the rest of your life”
You kept looking at him everytime he said something like that
but brushed it off
Not gonna lie
you had fun
okay maybe you broke a few ring bands here and there
but the cute little ring you had in the end was worth it
“We can get them engraved for you”
The man who helped you make them said
of course you said yes
you got Johnny’s name engraved in his
and yours in his
while you sat waiting the lights kind of went off
“Johnny what happened”
he just shrugged
you two sat there for a while
then the man came back
lights still off
but he lit a fire in the room
The room was lit with pretty reds, yellows and oranges
to your surprise Johnny was standing there with a nervous smile
then dug into his pocket
“You know I love you right”
You nodded, confused now
“And you love me right”
“Johnny are you dying or something”
he snorted but carried on
“I don’t know where i’d be without you Y/n”
your heart really went fjdinfj at that
“God your smile makes me the happiest man alive”
“I love the way you smell, the way you dress, heck i love the way you practically kick me out of bed in the morning”
confused Y/n
“I don’t think i could’ve met a better woman”
“Johnny what are you on about”
“I want you to always be there when i wake up and when i fall asleep, I want you to make fun of me when I’m being lame, I want to go grocery shopping with you and bicker over which color grapes to buy”
it was your turn to snort
until he got on his knees
“I want you to be the mother of my kids, I want to always be your everything, I want to know that you’ll always be mine”
You stood up from your chair
Johnny pulled out a cute little velvet box
that had such a precious little diamond inside
you know the ones you would look at with your friends after school and be like
‘thats what my mans gonna get me’
“Y/n marry me”
If you weren’t a blubbering mess before then sis
Tbh you put the ring on before you even said yes
“is that a yes”
“oh shit yh”
kisses bitch
that’s when the lights came back on
low and behold guess who’s here
“congrats hunny”
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if i had to sum up your wedding
there was only one word
Johnny’s the only child
so ofc mommy Suh was gonna have the best
you, your mom and Johnny’s mom mainly planned it
Johnny just watched lmao
“how abo-”
“Johnny shut up”
“yes mom”
Don’t worry he did have a say in most things
one being the best man
now i feel like the whole of nct would have a hard time picking one
for god’s sake there’s 21+ members
in the end he picked Jaehyun since he helped him throughout the whole process
after consoling a pissed Haechan
the wedding was in summer
you thought it would be cute to have it outside
just cause the sun would be beautiful when it sets
plus your highlight would be pOppping
cause when we jumping and popping we jopping
your dad walked you down the isle
crying like a bitch of course
tbh who wasn’t
fgs even Taeyong was being held by Taeil
the ceremony was so pretty
your own friends holding hands while you said your vows
“I love you”
“I love you too”
“you may kiss the bride”
the way the boys screamed
mad men
the pictures had to be best part of the day
other than marrying the love of your life lol
the boys had the funniest photoshoot known to man
recreating scenes from movies
your friends were just as bad
the reception was SO extra
Johnny played for you on the piano
Taeil fucking sang
Johnny’s mom pushed Jisung into the mini mosh pit you made like every mom at EVERY PARTY EVER
the night ended with you slow dancing with Johnny
his bow tie undone and the top button popped upon
your hair undone and your heels removed
as you just swayed
Johnny leaving little kisses on your forehead
god he loved you
fjheifngvienignvief cute
3K notes · View notes
whereisten · 2 years ago
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Late Night Adventures with a Green-Haired Kingpin
Part 1 | Part 2 Intro | Part 2 | Part 3 Intro | Part 3 | Part 4 Intro | Part 4: Yuta Oneshot! | Part 4 | More Coming Soon
Summary: You couldn’t quite explain how you, a normal office worker that didn’t even have a traffic violation, ended up in a gang leader’s bed, but here you are.
Pairing: Gang Leader!Taeyong X female reader
Genre: some angst, smuT
Warning: some violence, cursing, kidnapping mention, cheating mention, alcohol use, exhibitionism, degradation, dirty talk, fingering, orgasm denial, minor knife play, thigh riding, male masturbation, choking, little oral sex, rough sex, impregnation kink
Word Count: 8.9K
[12:56 A.M]
A simple misunderstanding. That’s what you tried to tell yourself.
It’s all a simple misunderstanding.
You walked past the booming clubs and bars in the city. Holding your arms and strutting in your high heels. You gripped your leather jacket tightly, hoping that it would cover your exposed chest and tight dress. You ignored the catcalls and increased your pace. You just wanted to get home. Doyoung was being extremely off tonight at the club.
“Why did you come if you’re gonna have an attitude? You’re embarrassing me in front of my friends.” You pulled him aside and asked.
“You dragged me here! You wanna dress like a slut, then act like a slut! Go! There’s a man over there that’s been eyeing you for the past 30 minutes. You’re all over the goddamn dance floor like you get paid to dance, like you don’t have a boyfriend. I should be embarrassed of you!” Doyoung spoke to you loudly over the bass that shook the walls of the club.
Your jaw dropped, offended by your boyfriend’s choice words for you tonight. But you weren’t surprised anymore, he was jealous, overprotective, and ignorant. You were convinced he had fallen out of love with you.
This was the fourth fight you guys had this week. Your relationship was in shambles and you just couldn’t take it anymore. You left without looking back. Doyoung didn’t follow you, he just sulked in the corner before heading back to the bar to order another shot of vodka.
You rubbed your eyes and you started to cry. You walked even faster, hoping that no one would stop you and ask if you were okay, you knew you would only cry harder.
You were just a few more minutes away from home, your feet were killing you and you just couldn’t wait to jump into bed with a bowl of ice cream. But you felt a hand on your arm. The person yanked you into the alleyway and pushed you against the brick wall.
“What the-who are y-?” You started but the man placed a hand over your mouth.
You let out a muffled scream as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.
He grabbed your purse and went through it. The alleyway was only lit by a small light, there was no one around, no one to call to.
“Whatcha got in here?” The man wore shabby clothes and a beanie, you could only see his eyes, his mouth was covered by a tattered scarf.
You bit his finger and kneed him in the gut.
“Get off of me!” You yelled but the man pushed you into the wall again.
He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head.
“Stop!” You screamed again, but he only laughed as he turned your purse upside down with his other hand. Your phone and cash dropped out, luckily you decided to stuff your credit card into your boot tonight.
You didn’t care what he took, you just wanted him to let you go so you could go home.
He bent down as soon as he saw the green paper hit the ground, but a figure quickly ran up and kicked the man in the rib.
The man wailed as he fell to the side and into a puddle. The green haired man that saved you continued to kick the man while he was down, laughing maniacally as he did so. He was like the Joker brought to life. You froze, wondering what the hell just happened.
Blood spewed out from the homeless man’s mouth and he grew quiet as he continued to be stomped on.
You finally snapped out of it. “Stop! Please stop! You’re gonna kill him” you yelled out but the man continued to laugh hysterically. He was getting joy out of beating the shit out of this man with his black leather boot.
“Stop!” You grabbed the man’s shoulders and pulled him towards you, but he wouldn’t stop. You bounced onto the wall, and went up to him again, this time pulling with as much force as possible. He finally fell back towards you, turning around so that he could catch himself while you both fell towards the wall.
You panted as your back hit the wall, the man fell straight towards you, he pressed both hands on the sides of your head so that you were locked in between them.
Your eyes were wide as you felt his breath on your cleavage. He only held his head down and chuckled while you stood with your arms at your sides, unsure of what he’d do next.
He was breathing heavily as he finally looked up at your face.
The man’s skin was radiant even under the night sky, his jawline was sharp and his beautiful dark eyes reflected a mix of anger and joy. He was ridiculously good looking—but crazy.
He smirked, “are you okay?” He asked in a  husky voice that gave you chills.
“I’m fine” You breathily let out.
He still stood over you, you couldn’t move as his arms barred you in.
“Are you familiar with this city?” He asked.
“Y-yes” you answered, still watching him carefully.
“You’re gonna show me around, I’m new here” he demanded as he ran a hand through his neon green hair.
“I’m sorry?” You asked, puzzled as to what this stranger wanted from you.
“You’re gonna be my tour guide, love” he said smoothly before smoothing his shirt of any wrinkles.
“Do I look like a fucking tour guide? Look I don’t know who you are but I’m going home, you’re crazy” you bent down to get your things and as you stood up you saw two huge men in black suits walk up to you.
You looked up at them but they wore black shades—at night.
You tried to walk past them but the blocked you, every turn you made, they were there.
You turned to the green-haired man. “Are they with you? Because I’m about to call the police on all of you”
He laughed, “I like you already.”
“Boys, lets go.” He walked past the men.
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” You called out, but one of the men grabbed you up fast, in one second you were over the large man’s shoulder. You pounded his back but he remained unfazed.
“Hey! Let me go! Put me down, you asshole!” You protested as he walked towards a black, two-door sports car.
From what you could tell by looking at it upside down, it was expensive, a Lamborghini maybe. The green-haired stranger pressed a button on the car’s remote which prompted the opening of the butterfly doors.
You looked up while the sumo wrestler still held you down on his wide shoulder.
“Holy sh-“ you were suddenly thrown down onto the passenger seat of the extravagant car.
The green-haired stranger jumped into the driver’s seat and as you were about to jump out, the butterfly doors quickly closed down above you. If you moved at all, your head would have been cut off.
In a final attempt to escape, you called out for help. You knew the chances of someone actually hearing you was slim in the dark street but you tried anyway.
“Help! Help, I’m being kidnapped!” You yelled.
You fumbled around for your phone in your purse, but greenie quickly grabbed it out of your hand and threw it out the window.
“You won’t be needing that” he said calmly.
“You fucking asshole! Let me out!” You kicker and wailed your arms around. You couldn’t open the doors, you were locked in with this crazy man.
What a shitty night this had turned into.
First, a fight with your boyfriend, an attempted robbery, and now a kidnapping.
Why you?
The man next to you only opened his mouth and laughed as he started the engine and drove off.
“My name’s Taeyong, you’re gonna tell me where I can get Chinese food at this time” Taeyong demanded smoothly.
“Listen, Taeyong, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m calling the police as soon as I find someone that can help me”
Taeyong only laughed out again, eyes crinkling at the sides as he looked at you. “You really have no idea.”
“And my boyfriend’s gonna come after you and boy, do you not want to meet my boyfriend” you thought of Doyoung and how there was no way he’d win a fight against this maniac, but you had to make it seem like you were dating the Rock, maybe just maybe Taeyong would get scared and let you go.
Taeyong smiled, “yes, I’m sure I don’t want to meet him. I’m so scared, I’m shaking in my bloody boots.” He looked straight at the road with one hand on the steering wheel.
“Now, I’m fucking hungry, tell me where to go” Taeyong’s tone grew more serious.
“And if I don’t?” You turned to him.
He suddenly stopped the car. You jolted forward in your seat as he looked at you.
“My name’s Lee Taeyong, I’m the leader of  Víbora, the gang that runs multiple cities nearby and will soon run this beautiful city of yours as well. Don’t mess with me, love, I’m hungry” Taeyong said seriously now, but you were still upset.
“Is that supposed to mean anything to me? Are you threatening me?” You asked, returning his stern gaze.
“I don’t give a fuck if you’re the leader of the vibrator team, I wanna go home. Let me out!”
Taeyong only laughed and pressed the gas. He didn’t look at the road. He only looked at you. You turned to look at the road and noticed he was drifting off into the other lanes.
“Taeyong, what are you doing?” You asked, but he only looked at you, he didn’t even flinch as a car horn blew loudly close by.
He was halfway into the lane with traffic coming from the opposite direction. You were bound to collide with a car.
“You’re crazy!” You jumped up and went to grab the steering wheel, but Taeyong let go of it and pushed you back into your seat while he still watched you.
“What are you doing?! Take the wheel! You’re gonna get us killed!” You cried out.
“How can I drive if I don’t know where I’m going?” Taeyong calmly asked you, looking into your worried eyes.
A car suddenly drove towards yours straight on, the lights lighting up Taeyong’s car as you sped towards each other. Your heart rate sped up, you didn’t know what to do.
“Taeyong!” You called to him but he didn’t respond he only watched you panic.
“Fine! I’ll tell you where to go! Head straight and take the third exit!” You yelled as the cars came within 20 feet of each other before Taeyong grabbed the wheel and spun the car into the next lane.
You screamed and held your head down, afraid that you wouldn’t make it. Taeyong only laughed loudly and pounded the steering wheel, he really was the Joker.
“So, what’s your name?” Taeyong asked as he continued to drive towards the restaurant you were leading him to.
“Does it matter?” You tilted your head against the window, too tired and upset at how your night was going.
“Well, Yeah-I mean, I did save your life” Taeyong scratched his head.
You scoffed. “It was just a robbery, he wasn’t gonna kill me, how do I know you’re not gonna kill me after I give you what you want? Huh? Mr. “I-am-the-leader-of-a-powerful-gang-I-always-get-What-I-want” you mocked him.
“Eh. That takes too much energy” Taeyong shrugged his shoulders. “Plus, we don’t kill women or children.”
“Oh, wow, how nice and considerate of you, it’s like you’re a murderer but not a bad murderer” you rolled your eyes.
“Why were you walking at night alone anyway? You know it’s not safe out here, you could run into creeps like me” Taeyong turned to you and grinned revealing gold caps on two bottom teeth.
“It’s none of your business Jared Leto” you tilted your head back onto the headrest and closed your eyes.
You had to admit, it was a comfortable seat. You looked at the dashboard of the expensive car. It looked like a spaceship. It smelled of cigarette smoke combined with his cologne that smelled of fresh ocean.
Taeyong drove aggressively, making sudden turns, he was pressing the gas and brakes hard, causing your to jerk forward and back several times. You felt like you were gonna be sick if he didn’t slow down.
“It’s right here” you muttered out, looking forward to him finally stopping the car.
“Woo-hoo!” Taeyong jumper and quickly turned into the parking lot.
He unlocked the doors and jumped out, running over to your side.
He reached out for your hand and while you wanted to brush it away, you were feeling weak and could really use the help.
You quietly thanked him while he smiled.
You pulled your dress down and looked up at him. “What are you looking at?”
He laughed and shook his head. “You look great, your boyfriend’s really missing out huh?”
You rolled your eyes and brushed past him.
The Chinese Take-Out restaurant was quiet, it was just the two of you while his bodyguards were posted up just outside of the entrance.
Taeyong commanded the place when he walked in. The cashier immediately smiled brightly and welcomed him in an overly enthusiastic tone. The chef then jumped in too. It was like everyone knew who he was, but he clearly didn’t know them, he had never even been to the place.
“Hello! Hello!” Taeyong waved and gave a bright smile. He was a chameleon, friendly and happy when he spoke to them.
Apart from the green hair, you thought your mom would like him. Even she wouldn’t be able to detect that he was a psycho gang leader with murderous tendencies.
“It’s nice to see you! What would you like? We have pork fried rice, sweet and sour chicken, beef and vegetables! We have everything for you sir!” The adorable old lady jumped up from her chair at the register and giddily spoke to Taeyong.
Sir? Taeyong was way younger than her, what kind of power did he have to make an old lady refer to him with a title?
Taeyong laughed, “thank you, thank you, I’ll just have orange chicken with shrimp fried rice.”
You looked at him as he smile gently. His large, almond-shaped eyes crinkled and his cheeks rose. He was a walking contradiction, but wow, was he handsome.
“What do you want?” He turned to you.
“Oh, I’m good” you nodded and gave a smile to the cashier, you wished you could pass a note to her saying you were kidnapped, but she acted like she would give her right lung to the strange man if he asked her for it, so that wouldn’t help.
Taeyong pouted. “Sure? It’s the least I can do for dragging you here.”
Why was he being so freaking sweet? He made it difficult for you to stay hard.
You shook your head and walked away to a table.
Taeyong followed you over to the table and quickly pulled out a chair for you.
You rolled your eyes. “you don’t have to keep doing that”
“Doing what?” Taeyong asked innocently before thanking the server for bringing over his food.
“Acting’re not fooling me” you fixed your dress down your thigh as you sat down.
You sighed while you watched Taeyong choke his food down. “Wow, you really were hungry.”
Taeyong laughed and covered his full mouth.
You looked behind you and at the entrance where his bodyguards stood, blocking anyone from entering—or leaving.
Taeyong must have noticed because he cleared his throat. “Still looking for a way out?”
“I hate to break it to you, but your slick mouth has made me..quite interested in you” Taeyong said before eating a piece of chicken. He gave a goofy smile as he chewed.
“So you’re holding me against my will because I didn’t want to be..held against my will?” You turned back to him, you just wanted to go home, and now you didn’t have your phone.
“Are you gonna call the police when you get home?” Taeyong paused. “Or are you gonna call your boyfriend?” He was mocking you.
You sat back in your chair and crossed your arms.
You let out a laugh as you remembered the last look of disgust Doyoung gave you. “Actually, my boyfriend doesn’t give a damn about me.”
Taeyong looked up at you from his rice in disbelief. “But why? You’re beautiful and funny.”
You laughed again and fiddled your thumbs. “I don’t know..things have been...complica—wait why am I telling you about my relationship again?”
“Because it’s on your mind?” Taeyong shrugged.
You grabbed a chopstick and stabbed a piece of chicken before putting it in your mouth while looking Taeyong in the eyes.
He smirked, enjoying how daring you were being with a man that could literally have you killed in 3 seconds.
You smiled as you chewed.
“Well, if you must know, we had our fourth fight this week tonight before you kidnapped me. He told me I was being a slut.”
Taeyong looked in confusion as he drank a soda. “What a douche. I can take care of him if you want me to.”
You rolled your eyes. “You can’t just kill people because they’re mean Taeyong, that’s not how it works.”
“In my world it does” Taeyong wiped his face with a napkin and placed it in the center of his plate.
“Oh..right, I almost forgot..” You pulled your jacket over your body once again, the cold air gripping at your chest.
Taeyong eyed you as you covered your chest. For some strange reason, you felt beautiful under his gaze. You knew he only kept you around because you were a nice view, but Doyoung hadn’t looked at you like he did for weeks now.
“Can I go home now?” You ran a hand through your hair, feeling tired as you wondered if your best friend or Doyoung noticed your absence yet.
“We’ve got one more place to visit, love.” Taeyong wiped his mouth again with a napkin and stood up before holding a hand out for you to take.
You sighed and grabbed it. “I just can’t get rid of you, huh?”
“Not for tonight.” Taeyong smirked and led you outside. There was something so commanding about him. You didn’t owe him anything and it’s not like he would hurt you even when he had the means to do so. But you couldn’t say no to him.
Your life was so boring, he brought some adventure to it and you were happy for that. You worked a basic office job and dated a pretty vanilla boy.
You felt alive with the sense of danger you felt around Taeyong. His green hair and tattoos told you he lived on the opposite side of the spectrum from you, and you couldn’t help but think of how different your life would be if you had someone like him in it.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Taeyong interrupted your thoughts. You didn’t notice that you had been staring at the side of his face as he drove out of the parking lot.
“What’s your deal? Why me?” You asked quietly.
He turned to you and gave a sly smile.
“Why not you?”
You gave a quiet laugh and turned to look out your window.
“I need to find the nightclub named Club Malibu. There’s someone I need to meet.” Taeyong drove with one hand on the wheel so effortlessly, it made you feel some way.
The way the veins in his hand and arm stuck out as he gripped the wheel sent a shiver through your body, your mind started to think of—bad things. The way his sharp jaw clenched and his large eyes focused as he drove only made it worse.
You cleared your throat and stopped yourself. “Okay, make a u-turn here. We’re about 10 minutes away.”
You looked on the outside of Club Malibu, it was an upscale nightclub that you rarely went to because you knew the crowd was filled with dangerous people, gang members and sexy vixens waiting to rob anyone that got too close.
Taeyong fixed his striped button-up shirt as he stepped out his car and tossed the keys to valet.
“Madam?” He held an arm out and waited for you to link your arm with his. You scoffed and walked off, leaving him empty.
“Who the fuck are you?” A large bouncer stepped in front of the door as you approached it.
“Move. She’s with me” Taeyong stepped up quickly.
“I am so sorry, sir, I didn’t know” The bouncer apologized profusely once he saw Taeyong, going as far as to bow and open the door for you.
“He’s waiting for you, down the stairs, fourth door to the right.” The rude giant continued, he was fidgety as he opened the door and moved the velvet rope for you two to walk through.
Your jaw dropped. He had control over everyone. They were all terrified of him.
Taeyong turned to look at you and smirked when he saw the shock on your face.
“Come on” he held your hand as he pulled you through the dark club. Bodies moved close together as they grinded into each other.
Couples dry-humped against the walls and were so close you couldn’t make out where one’s body started and the other’s ended.
You loved the way the heavy bass of the trap music vibrated through your body. You always felt alive when you danced, but ever since you started dating Doyoung, you felt that you couldn’t dance as often as you wanted to.
You stopped your mind from thinking of all the ways you wanted to dance with Taeyong to feel alive again. You watched as girls looked at the two of you in envy. 
They eyed Taeyong and twirled their hair to get his attention, but he only looked forward and held your hand. They furrowed their brows and rolled their eyes when they saw you with him.
“Wait out here.” Taeyong motioned towards a velvet covered couch outside of the room he was about to head into.
“I did what you needed me to do, you said this is the last stop, I wanna go home now.” You pulled his hand. “I’ll just call an Uber or something.”
“How are you gonna do that without a phone?” Taeyong frowned, it was like he didn’t want you to leave. You sighed.
“Give me ten minutes, love, as a thank you for your time, I’ll buy you a phone. Just be a good girl for me.” Taeyong smirked and you scoffed at his last phrase, but really, it kind of turned you on.
You sat on the couch and waited for him to come out of his “meeting.”
While waiting, you watched the lively people move about and dance under the neon lights of the club. Some were celebrating birthdays in large groups and some only wanted a quickie for the night. The typical nightclub scene.
You looked at the bar and it was then that you saw him, your boyfriend. You didn’t think he’d still be out, and you definitely didn’t think he’d be at this nightclub, one he swore he’d never go to because it was just too “messy for his liking.”
You stood up and walked towards him, pushing past the sweaty bodies that crowded the circular bar in the center of the two-story club.
But you slowed your pace when you saw him smiling and talking—or flirting-with another woman. He was closing in on the space between their lips. When you looked to see who it was, you gasped.
It was your best friend, Lily. Your eyes teared up as you watched them make out right at the bar.
There you were, frozen in the middle of the club, in the middle of dozens of moving bodies. You felt your whole world start to fall apart.
The man you loved so deeply and the woman you shared so many memories with stood in front of you now, embracing each other as you watched from just a few feet away.
You could’ve been robbed on your way home and neither of them would’ve cared. Hell, you were kidnapped by a notorious gangster, but they didn’t care.
It all made sense now, why Doyoung had been so distant and why your best friend rarely made time for you lately. They felt guilty.
You rubbed your eyes and stopped yourself from letting out any more tears. You were so hurt all you could do was laugh. Why you?
You looked up under dark eyes at the bar and decided not to make a scene. Instead, you had another plan. But first, you needed a little alcohol to actually pull through with it.
You walked around to the other side to avoid being caught by Doyoung and Lily.
“I need five shots of tequila now” you demanded as you looked at the bartender through dark and cloudy eyes.
He raised an eyebrow. “Payment?”
“I’m fucking Taeyong’s girlfriend, didn’t you see me walk in with him? Add it to his bill” you shuddered internally at your suddenly harsh tone. You were fed up and overwhelmed by the amount of adrenaline running through your veins.
The bartender quickly nodded and placed five shots in front of you.
You downed them so fast, you would swear you were drinking water.
You closed your eyes tightly as the bitter taste hit you at once.
You normally needed more than that to get drunk enough to forget the bad feeling you had, but you didn’t want that. You just wanted some liquid bravery running through your veins.
It’s time to stop being a boring bitch.
You turned to face the room in which Taeyong was in and saw him just start to leave. He was looking around for you.
You rushed to him.
“Taeyong.” You called out to him over the loud, pulsating music so that he turned to you.
“Oh, there you -“ he smiled but you grabbed his face and pulled it to yours. You kissed him hard, darting your tongue out for entry into his soft mouth.
He opened it and turned his head as his hands gripped your waist.
He returned the kiss.
You felt his hot tongue run over your bottom lip before his teeth bit it.
You were thankful that he was down for it and didn’t pull away.
You pulled away to breathe.
He looked down at you in confusion.
“I want you to have sex with me, right here, right now.” You looked up at him with the same dark eyes of fury you had at the bar.
Taeyong chuckled. “Well. Look at you, Ms. Goody Two Shoes” he gave you a devilish smile
“Please, Taeyong.” You begged in a higher tone, you needed this plan to pull through so you could forget how devastated you felt.
“I leave you alone for ten minutes and you drown yourself in liquor?” Taeyong licked his lips as he tasted the tequila you downed.
“I’m not drunk, I want this, I need this.” You continued, shifting your attention to Taeyong’s lips, wishing you could feel them again.
Taeyong shook his head. “What is this? Are you messing with me?” Taeyong’s mood changed, he was serious now, looking down at you with an unsure expression as he clenched his jaw.
He clearly didn’t like being messed with.
You shook your head.
“Taeyong, I’m not messing with you. I want you to fuck me.” You said through a breathy whisper as you leaned close to his ear.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend that I should be scared of?” Taeyong still wasn’t convinced that he heard you correctly.
“Not anymore.” You breathily whispered again. And placed a sloppy kiss on his neck.
Taeyong stopped you by wrapping a hand around your neck. He looked at your lips and rubbed his thumb against them.
“Are you sure?”
You nodded. Ready for whatever he was about to put you through. You had been lusting over him all night and now you could finally indulge yourself without feeling guilty about it.
Taeyong took your hand and led you to the second level of the club.
He pushed you into the wall and started to kiss you again. His kiss was harsh, his teeth bit your lips again, this time gaining a drop of blood.
His hands ran down the side of your body and his thumbs pressed into your sides as he pulled you closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck.
The pulsing wall behind you edged you on as you felt Taeyong’s veiny and slender hands all over your hot body.
You moaned out and ran a hand through his vibrant hair.
Taeyong pulled back to watch you through low eyes.
You nodded and lifted your leg up by bending your knees and dragging it along his leg. He pressed himself deeper into you so you could feel him growing.
He grabbed your lifted leg and ran his hand up so that it cupped your ass.
He nibbled on your neck as you threw your head back against the wall.
There were people on the second floor of the club, not as many as the first floor, but you didn’t care.
Taeyong felt so good. You had been waiting all night for him to touch you, you couldn’t care less who watched as he made love to you.
He took the hand he used to grip your ass and massaged the skin on your inner thigh. He moved his hand so that it rested near your core.
“Yes” You whispered into his ear and with that Taeyong ran a finger over your slit.
He pulled away. “No panties? You’re dirtier than I thought” he let out in a deep tone that made you even wetter than you already were.
He watched you as he continued to rub his slender finger along your slit and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit.
You gasped at the feeling and the sight of him above you under the neon lighting of the club.
People would walk by and glance at the two of you but they’d quickly look away once they recognized the green-haired man.
“Fuck” You whispered as Taeyong bit his lips and inserted one finger into your throbbing hole. He moved it in and out of you effortlessly.
You inhaled sharply as he inserted another finger and pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He watched you as you slowly fell apart for him.
“One more. Be a good girl for me.” Taeyong whispered, his swollen lips in between his teeth once again.
He added a third finger and you felt yourself stretch around him as you moaned out loudly.
You usually only took two, but he was stretching you out. The slight pain dissolved into pleasure as you felt your climax coming. You rocked your hips on his hand as his thumb continued to rub circles around your bud.
“Ahh, Taeyong” you groaned, unable to stay quiet. Tears started to build up.
He felt so good in you. All three of his long fingers reached your depth and curved inside as his pace increased. You felt like you couldn’t breathe under the strobe lights, you felt dizzy.
You were being fucked silly by his pretty hand.
His other hand reached up and held your throat. He opened your mouth with his thumb and stuck it in.
“Suck.” He demanded lowly.
You sucked hard while looking deep into his eyes, his other hand still working wonders on your core. You cried out as you felt yourself clench around him.
“You like this? You like being fucked against a wall for all these people to watch? You want them to see how good I make you feel? Are you a slut?” Taeyong’s dirty words pushed you even further.
His tone was so low and demanding.
He squeezed his hand around your throat when you were silent.
“Yes. I’m a slut” You breathily answered and looked at him through watery eyes.
You moaned as he pushed his fingers in even deeper, driving your body up the wall. You grabbed his shoulders and held onto him for dear life as his pace increased again.
“Whose slut? Who do you belong to?” Taeyong asked you as he pulled you closer to him.
“You, Taeyong. I’m a slut for you” you cried out loudly, not caring about the couples that were close enough to hear the sloppy sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you rapidly.
Your legs were growing weak, your mind was becoming cloudy. You looked down at the bar in the center and caught his eyes.
He was watching as Taeyong fucked you so hard with his fingers, your entire body moved up the wall and you had to grip his shoulders to stay still.
Doyoung was steaming, he was furious, but there was nothing he could do.
You smirked and leaned down to Taeyong, running your hand through his hair while maintaining eye contact with Doyoung.
Doyoung shook his head and took Lily’s hand before heading out of the club.
It worked. Your plan worked.
Taeyong was making you feel so good, you were kinda glad you caught your boyfriend cheating on you.
Taeyong suddenly changed the angle that he used to push his fingers in and out of you, they hit a different spot and you knew you were about to cum.
“Yes, right there.” Your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside you.
But Taeyong pulled out of you abruptly.
Your eyes flew open as you whined.
He stopped you by gripping your neck harshly. “Open.”
You opened your mouth as he stuck his fingers into your mouth.
“You know what to do, love” Taeyong smirked as you worked your tongue around his fingers, making sure to suck them clean of your sweet juices.
“You’re such a dirty slut, you don’t deserve to cum right now.” Taeyong pulled down your dress because it had ridden up to your waist with all the action.
He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, he tossed you over his shoulder before slapping your ass and taking you downstairs.
You knew your legs were covered in your essence but this didn’t stop Taeyong from gently placing you down onto the passenger seat of his million dollar car.
He jumped into the driver’s seat and drove off. He still drove so fast, you couldn’t hold your head up as you were still reeling from your build up.
You smiled as you remembered the look on Doyoung’s face as he watched the two of you.
That asshole.
Taeyong turned to you and gripped your chin harshly again, he pulled you to him for a kiss, forgetting to look at the road when you moaned into his mouth. You wanted to feel him in you again.
Taeyong turned back to the road and drove with one hand on the wheel again.
“Taeyong—I” You started but he pulled your thighs apart with his other hand and forced two fingers in you again.
You yelped at the feeling and jumped up in your seat. He still entered you so easily, but you couldn’t stop yourself from closing your legs at the sudden re-entry and sensitivity you felt.
He suddenly stopped the car in the middle of the bridge you two were on and turned to force your thighs apart again.
“Keep your pretty legs open or I’ll fucking drive this car into the water” he demanded in that low tone again and you swear you could’ve came right then and there, but you had to wait for him.
You nodded and bit your lips as you opened your legs for him. He gave a sly smile and started driving again.
You leaned back into the chair and watched as his right hand disappeared inside of you. The way his veiny arm moved above your abdomen sent chills down your spine.
You threw your head back and cried out again.
Only the sound of your cries and heavy breathing, the engine, and the sloppy sounds of his fingers against your wet entrance filled the car.
“I’m gonna fuck you in my bed and I want you to do everything I tell you to. Understand?” Taeyong asked coolly, as if he wasn’t bringing you to the edge again with his delicate fingers.
You moaned. “Yes, Taeyong, whatever you want!”
He smirked. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that tonight.”
He looked down at you, your long legs bent, your high heels on his dashboard. You were spread out in his passenger seat with a pool of your slick building up under you. His fingers going into your pretty core easily. He couldn’t wait to be inside you.
He pulled his fingers out of you when he felt you clench around him again.
“Taeyong-“ you cried out as you breathed heavily.
Taeyong stopped the car at a security gate in front of his house, and as you were about to close your legs he looked down at you through dark eyes and clenched his jaw.
“Keep your legs open, slut.” Taeyong said aggressively as he put the window down.
The guard looked at him and then at you. He was puzzled at your position but quickly pressed the button to open the gate.
He didn’t look back as Taeyong rolled the window up and drove off.
You weren’t embarrassed at all. You liked belonging to such a powerful man. Everyone knew he was fucking you and you didn’t care because no one would say a damn thing to him nor you about it.
Taeyong stopped the car again.
You looked out the window to see a massive house. Of course he had a big house, he was a notorious gang leader.
He held out a hand for you to take so he could help you out the car. Your legs were shaking, you could barely walk, so Taeyong held you in his arms.
He unstrapped your heels and threw them on the ground as he reached down to kiss you. You held his face and pulled him closer to you. His mouth embraced yours and his soft lips made you weak. You moaned into his mouth as he kicked his door and brought you inside.
You felt the crisp, clean air of his house fill your lungs as he walked in with you in his arms still. You looked up and around his place. You were shocked at how clean and organized the place was.
For a guy with green-hair, you expected it to be littered with drugs and booze.
Taeyong kicked off his boots and brought you up a flight of grand stairs not too far from his front door while looking into your eyes deeply. You were so innocent and beautiful, unlike all of the other girls that surrounded him. They were pretty and easy, but you, you spoke to him like no one else did; you made things difficult for him and he liked that. He wanted to ruin you.
“Do you still want this?” Taeyong asked quietly, filling the large house with the deep sound of his husky voice.
“Yes” You whispered into his back as he walked down a long hallway to his room.
“The safe word is apple.”
Once in his room, he threw you onto his large bed. You moaned and threw your head back as you fell into the pillowy soft mattress of what had to be a California king bed.
You looked up to see Taeyong unbutton his shirt and throw it on the floor.
You took your jacket off and threw it on the floor as well.
He walked around the bed, watching every move you made as you revealed your shoulders and the top of your cleavage.
You went to unzip your dress in the back, but Taeyong stopped you.
“Stop.” He demanded as he held your ankles and pulled you across the bed towards him and closer the edge. You watched as his muscles flexed when he pulled you. He was strong and incredibly toned.
He held your legs as he stood at the edge of the bed and forced them apart, causing your dress to ride up to your hip.
“Stay like this, I’ll be back” Taeyong licked his lips before walking to his closet.
You shuddered at the cold air between your legs. It only made you ache for him more. You wanted him to fill you up so badly, you felt you might scream. But you didn’t dare move, you had to be a good girl for him.
You looked around the large room to distract yourself. It was nice, clean, and simple. He had art pieces, some of which looked like they were original and expensive.
Taeyong came out of the closet and walked up to you again, placing both hands on your thighs.
You laid back down on the bed.
He breathed heavily as he looked down at your aching core.
He smirked. “You’re still wet, such a good girl”
He pulled out a knife from behind him and held it up. “But you’ve been such a bitch this entire evening, why should I let you cum?”
You didn’t feel any fear when you saw him with the knife, it only added to your arousal. You wondered what had gotten into you.
This was so far away from the vanilla sex you and Doyoung had, Doyoung wouldn’t even slap your ass if you asked him to.
“Let me cum all over you, Taeyong, please.” You whined.
Taeyong took the knife and ran it down your arm. Your breath hitched as you felt the cold blade lightly touch your skin.
“You like it when I touch you with this knife? You know, girls usually run away at this point.”
“I’m not afraid of you Taeyong” You let out in a soft tone.
“How do you know I won’t kill you, right here, right now?” Taeyong asked through dark eyes as he dragged the knife down your jaw, tracing over your neck and all the way to your cleavage.
“Because you haven’t fucked me yet” you let out in a low tone and Taeyong chuckled and tilted his mouth upward. He loved watching that word fall out of your mouth, from the first time you said it to this time when you were under him, aching for his touch.
“Good girls don’t curse” Taeyong said as he suddenly cut through the center of your dress in one swipe. You gasped at how sharp the knife was and how close it came to your face, but the action only made you feel hotter.
Taeyong smiled as he looked down on your naked body, only your lace bra covered you. He threw the knife to the floor and climbed onto the bed.
He smashed his lips into yours and you felt his tongue pushed past your teeth.
You held his face firmly against yours as he wedged himself in between your legs.
You moaned out when you felt his tongue over take yours and his election against your thigh.
You moved your hips so that he could feel your core against him.
He pulled away and watched your chest move up and down rapidly.
He then crawled beside you and headed to the headboard. You flipped yourself over and watched as he sat on the bed with his back against it.
“Come here.” He demanded as he undid his jeans and pulled them off of him. You crawled over slowly, watching as his abs flexed when he took his briefs off and threw them to the floor. His dick sprung up after finally being released from his restrictive clothing.
You marveled at the sight. You couldn’t wait to take his entire length in you, your mouth started to water.
You climbed over and hovered your mouth over his tip but he stopped you.
“No, you don’t deserve It yet.” he pulled you up gently so that you were kneeling on the bed.
He patted his thigh and looked up at you through lustful eyes. You whined, but moved as he told you too.
Still kneeling, you slowly straddled his thigh. You placed your hands behind you so that you could hold your ankles as an anchor.
The feeling of his thigh muscles against your core sent shock waves through your body.
You cried out as you felt yourself nearing your climax again.
You looked down at Taeyong and watched as he moved his hand up and down his veiny length.
You licked your lips when the precum from his tip glistened across his entire length as he played around with it. You wished it was your hand or mouth on him, you wished the gloss was your essence.
“I know a slut like you can move faster than that.” Taeyong said through clenched teeth, never breaking eye contact with you as he gripped your thigh and forced you to move back and forth at a faster pace.
He was trying to keep himself from coming undone as well.
You moaned loudly as he flexed his thigh muscle under you.
You felt so raw, you tried you lift yourself off of his thigh, but he held you down firmly, digging his thumb into your hip while he still worked his other hand on himself.
You threw your head back as he forced you ride his thigh. Only the sounds of your movement against his wet thigh and your groans filled the air.
“Choke me.” He panted as he got closer to his orgasm. You furrowed your eyebrows as you continued moving back and forth.
He brought your hand up to his neck. “Squeeze as hard as you can.”
You never thought you’d choke the orgasm out of a man, but here you were. And the worst part was that it only brought you closer to your own orgasm. Taeyong was helping you to discover more about yourself.
You squeezed and watched as Taeyong’s breathing hitched. You couldn’t squeeze tightly as you were too weak from your own core trembling under you, but it was enough to get a smile out of him.
“Yes, just like that” Taeyong whispered.
You moaned. “I’m close Taeyong, let me cum please.”
Taeyong grunted and shook his head.
“Not yet, slut.”
You whined, and tried to escape from his grasp again, but he growled and pulled you down onto him again, digging his thumb in even harder. You were sure you would have a bruise there in the morning.
You cried out as he flexed his thigh for you to feel more friction again.
“Look at me, squeeze harder.” Taeyong’s low voice vibrated through the hand you had around his pretty throat.
You squeezed a little more. And with that Taeyong grunted and cursed. “Fuck” he said and you watched as his cum shot up from him.
Some fell on your stomach and arm, and some fell back down onto him.
You let go of his neck and stopped moving when he released your hip.
You both fell onto the bed and panted.
You were sweaty and weak, you had to withhold what would’ve been your third orgasm.
Taeyong breathed heavily, but climbed over you suddenly.
He kissed your lips and your neck. He then licked up your stomach and arm collect his cum.
“Ahh, Taeyong” you moaned out at the feeling of his hot tongue on your body.
“You were such a good girl for me, baby” Taeyong referred to you with endearing terms for the first time tonight, you felt like you actually might be able to cum.
He lowered his head and looked up at you as he hovered over your core.
“Take off your bra.” The hot air from his mouth hit your wet opening and your trembled under him.
You quickly unhooked your bra and threw it to the floor.
Taeyong held your legs up by gripping your thighs and forcing them apart again. He loved to see you spread out wide for him. He bit your thigh before leaning down to your core.
He licked a long stripe along your slit and moaned out. “You taste great.”
You could only moan out and gasp when you felt his tongue inside you. He worked it around and went as deep as possible, deeper than Doyoung ever went.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he circled his tongue around your inside aggressively.
He added a finger and curled it so that it hit your g spot every time he pushed it back into you.
“Taeyong!” You screamed at the combination of his tongue on your clit and his finger inside you.
He sucked it between his teeth and released it as you yelped. You grabbed his hair as he forced his face towards your entrance again.
His tongue worked wonders on your clit as he circled around it and under it quickly.
He was hard again.
“Please” you breathily begged, you were a mess, you couldn’t hold your orgasm back any longer.
“You only get to cum around my cock, slut.” Taeyong got up on his knees and started to pump his length again. “Turn over.”
You got up, surprised that you were still able to move your shaky legs.
You turned over so that your ass faced Taeyong.
He aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in harshly, he didn’t give you time to adjust. He gripped your ass with his hands and pulled you against him so that his entire length went into you all at once.
You cried out at the feel of his long dick stretching you out. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.
Taeyong slapped your ass with a hard swing of his hand.
“Ahh!” you hissed as tears came forward; you felt a mixture of pain and divine pleasure.
He pounded into you unforgivingly. Luckily, your wetness has been building up all night so he moved in and out of you with ease.
You moved your hand so that you could rub your clit, but Taeyong quickly pulled it away and placed it above your head.
“Don’t touch yourself unless I tell you to” he growled out in a low tone against the back of your neck, his husky voice made you clench around him.
He was caught off guard by the action and snapped his hip into you with one particularly rough thrust.
It sent you down onto his bed. And now with your face down and ass up, your back curved into him and his length entered you at a different angle.
This angle allowed him to reach your g spot with every push.
His fingers pressed into your skin as he held you against him. The lewd sounds your bodies made against each other, his low groans and your high pitched squeals filled the room. It all drove you closer to your orgasm.
“You want me cum in you? You want me to breed you?” He snapped his hips into you at an incredible pace.
“Yes, Taeyong, I want to feel you inside me” you begged, unashamed of what you said.
“Let’s fill this house with kids.” He said as he pulled your hair so that you could look back at him.
He smirked, proud of how he was slowly destroying you.
You watched as his green hair clung to his sweaty forehead and his abs and the muscle in his arms flexed with every push. His mouth was slightly open and his tongue licked his bottom lip as he looked at your teary eyes and fucked out face.
He smirked “Ahh such a good slut, taking all of me in. Getting all wet and nasty for me.”
Taeyong grunted as he snapped his hips into you a few more times. You screamed loudly.
You were thankful that you were in his house now because even the music at the club couldn’t have drowned out the loud screams you were making now.
“Cum for me” he demanded and in an instant, you felt your body tremble. You finally came around his cock.
He still moved so that you could ride out your orgasm, but he also came when he felt the unsteady vibrations of your core around him.
He shot up inside you, but you didn’t care. You were in state of bliss. You had never been fucked so hard in your life, you felt amazing.
His pace slowed and he let go of your hair as he pulled out of you.
You sighed and fell down on the bed, your whole body shook in overwhelming pleasure.
You felt Taeyong’s cum overflow out of your hole. It seeped out and dropped down your wavering legs.
Taeyong chuckled at the sight as he regained steady breathing.
You laid down on your stomach, you just needed to stay still and breathe for a few minutes.
He got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a wet rage and softly cleaning you up as you laid on your stomach.
“I’m-sorry for messing up your bed” you whispered in between heavy breaths.
Taeyong only laughed. “I wanted you to mess up my bed, baby, you’re so sexy.”
You smiled. You hadn’t heard that in a while.
Taeyong ran his large hands up your body and gently turned you over so that you could face him.
He kissed your forehead and your cheek.
He was confusing. On the outside, he seemed like a ruthless gang member, but he had a soft side to him that you couldn’t describe. He was surprisingly gentle and caring.
But you had to remind yourself that your lifestyles were completely different. He was a criminal, you sold life insurance. The two lifestyles just didn’t match up. You couldn’t expect anything permanent from that one night. His dark world was unlike yours.
You sat up once you regained your strength.
“I’ll call myself a taxi with your phone, but I have to borrow a t shirt and shorts because you destroyed my dress” you laughed as you looked around the floor for your bra.
“You can stay if you want to. Plus, I’ll have to have my guys buy you a phone AND Plan B in the morning” Taeyong smiled.
You laughed and shrugged your shoulders before falling back into the bed.
“You just don’t want me to leave, do you?” You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked into his deep brown eyes.
He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. “You’re the only one that treats me like a regular person, I like the way you talk to me.”
“Wow, must be so difficult to be a kingpin, you got all this luxurious furniture and expensive art around you, but no one to talk to” you teased. “you’re crazy, but i like it.”
His eyes crinkled as he laughed. “What’s your name?”
He normally didn’t give a damn about who he fucked, but something about you made him soft. You made him feel something—new, and he didn’t know whether to like it or be afraid of it. But he was used to the sense of danger.
“Y/N.” You finally let him know your name.
You were scared of what could happen if you spent more time with him, but you also didn’t mind the new found excitement in your life.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, but I’m never letting you go.” Taeyong leaned down and placed another kiss on your lips.
A/N: this nastEeeeE but green hair Taeyong just does something to me, FoRgivE Me
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baobaojng · a year ago
when icarus falls (jung jaehyun) - act one
when icarus falls - act one, half time interval, act two
jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - college athlete!au , crush!au
themes: angst, fluff
warnings: idk how to write timelines.
note: i accidentally deleted the first published version of this when I edited the text, but here’s the slightly different edited version i guess
summary: some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.
wordcount: 13,342
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If you were being very honest, Jung Jaehyun was all that. No exaggerations or extra praise; it was something that everybody knew.
Jaehyun was the poster-child for what every student athlete in college should be like: he had a full paid basketball scholarship that was offered to him in high school, myths say he was scouted as early as middle school but declined the offers more than twice (which meant that he was just that good.) To no surprise at all he was chosen as team captain during his sophomore year, and ever since, there was no basketball game ever lost. Now, it was fairly easy to assume that sports-heads like him flunked out of all their units and failed classes, but he didn’t. He took up an (extremely difficult) economics major and always kept his GPA high enough to be consistent on the Dean’s List. On occasion, the Dance club on campus would ask him to join some of their routines— and rarely, all the musical clubs would successfully get him to sing for formals. And the cherry on top of all that? He looked like he was personally sculpted by each of the gods, and don’t get fooled by that statement because he did get modeled by the art club once before.
So how was it that you took the same advanced Literature class? You didn’t know either, but you did share some of the same classes over the years. It’s just that you didn’t understand why he even took this class in particular; taking it up implied that your course probably really needed it, and by the looks of it he did not need this one at all.
It wasn’t like you were complaining at all though, Jung Jaehyun was - unsurprisingly - your (now) long time crush. He was a year older school-wise, but because you were a merit scholar that took up higher level units you tended to run in the same places and college just happened to work like that anyway. Except you just weren’t really the kind to try and be as boisterously popular as he was. Around college, you played safe: having a particularly small circle of friends and keeping to focusing on your academics; it was hard enough to get here and you thought that you had to work much harder to stay. It wasn’t like you hated mankind, you were willing to talk to people to say the least, but you wouldn’t go out your way to try so hard and aim to become popular. Life wasn’t particularly kind to you over all the years so you decided to stick to a routine and stay there until college was over. That seemed much much better in order for you to keep yourself in check and make sure you landed in good graces after you graduated. Stability was the goal, after all.
The only real form of indulgence in a much simpler, much emotional side of your life was the little crush you developed on Jaehyun. Despite having boyfriends when you were in your teen years and having dates and flings here and there during college, you found that having this constant admiration for him was a way of getting out of the systematic funk you imprisoned yourself in. For the most part, it was an advantage that he was very popular and very much out of your league - it kept you away from biting at the forbidden fruit.
Besides, even if you did want to try and indulge in your feelings, you knew that you were always destined for normalcy, unlike he was. It was ironic how your feelings for him made you feel awfully different, but you didn’t dare want to act upon them.
Sad and disappointing, but it was the music you had to face.
That perfectly explains why you are seated a little bit at the back of the lecture room,  somehow closely aligned with where Jaehyun and his friends sat (near the front), your knees weak at the sight of him smiling— even from a distance— while he was having a casual conversation with Johnny Seo (who was taking up law, choosing to take this class as a prerequisite for something else) and Chittaphon (whom you knew very well because he was just a friendly guy, and you had some mutual friends.)
You were carefully dotting out bullet points down on your notebook when the professor to your class arrived, a little more lively and a little kinder than all the other professors you’ve encountered for such an advanced class. Miss Kim assigned another reading assignment essay but now about the story of Atlas since greek mythology was the bulk of this semester. The formatting was different though, it was to make reverse (sometimes, when you were fed up with having to do the paperwork, you called them ‘perversions’) of already popular analyses of the literary texts she selected.
“Y/N, Jaehyun, and Chittaphon..” A little pause was added by your professor in order to be able to look at the three names she called out for, “please stay behind after class.” And when the lecture was over, you sat still in your seat. Just your feet impatiently tapping at the wooden platform that made up the large seating of the lecture hall. There was an unnerving gap from you to the three other humans in the room, and it didn’t surprise you when your professor asked you to sit next to Jaehyun where Johnny vacated his seat.
With wobbly feeling legs, you decided not to protest— not like Jung Jaehyun would notice if you had any apprehensions, he was probably too popular and got all kinds of reactions all the time— but you were convinced that any sign of the stupid teenage crush you had on him was a sign too much and it could really give you away.
It was an internal agreement to yourself that you would not engage in any form of embarrassing yourself, and the only honest way that could happen is if you risked anything by letting anyone else know of your schoolgirl feelings. The thought crossed you multiple times: the idea of Jaehyun somehow finding out that his junior liked him, and you cringed at the possibility. 
For as long as you can remember, Jaehyun had a stream of admirers at his feet. You’d have thought that being in college would put a little bit of restrain toward all the girls and boys that flocked at games only to cheer him on - and the multiple times that one or two of them would run up to him and confess after he won a championship. You heard that all these stories ended up in the same way, just Jaehyun being kind enough to give them his number and having conversations with them until he broke the news that he simply wasn’t interested— fucker was kind enough to gracefully let them down. His admirers would visibly show their sadness around campus, going far enough to even praise Jaehyun for being the charitable guy he was by allowing them any opportunity at all. 
Meanwhile, you always opted to sit somewhere a little farther away for a better view when you watched his games, actually interested in the sport, but also just so you could be as far away as you could so no one would really notice how your brows furrowed and creased just a little deeper when the ball was passed to him - and each time he scored. You tucked yourself behind desks like you would nervously tuck the hair behind your ear when you were nervous being in the same environment as him. It was early on when you decided that you were just heavily drawn to him despite only hearing things of him and passing him by, and you agreed to be your own grinch and restrict yourself from getting hurt. That only meant you’d be kept off track of the routine you established. It was early on when you decided you didn’t want to be like everyone else who liked him, and it was mostly because you did not possess half the balls they did when they presented their feelings to him head on, but also because he was probably the only real physical metric you could use for basing the metric on ‘what was out of your own comfort zone.’ Being reduced to a kindness he would reject honestly scared you, and for four years it always seemed to leave a sizzling trace of constant doubt in yourself. You were never, in any way, meant to swim in the same seas he floated.
Taking the seat beside him, you angled your body away from him steering clear from his gaze, it kind of looked like you were creating some perpendicular angle but then you shifted to stop when you noticed that Chittaphon was about to laugh at how uncomfortable you looked; he knew you always had a difficulty blending in with people you were unfamiliar with since he tried multiple times to set you up with guys. He also had some slight idea that you thought Jaehyun was rather attractive, but he always assumed you acted the way you did because you were close to what he called “a college recluse.” Sitting up a little straighter, you decided to try and fake any form of confidence and pretend like he just didn’t exist. It was not possible for you to have any interaction anyway, despite the fact that he was maybe less than a foot away from you. His arm was loosely scrambled along the table, like it was meant to adorn it and make it look more attractive. Hairs were standing from behind your neck. God, was this uncomfortable but in some way making you bubble up inside with the fluffiest idea that he was so close.
“The three of you were the only ones to sign up for the year end trip to Thessaloniki for the advanced studies program. I’m sure you know this means that your grades have to be exceptional for these last few papers I’m letting you turn in for class.” Oh? Jaehyun also signed up for the trip to Greece? This prompted you into an internal scramble. He already did enough as it was and now he was also annoyingly interested in the extracurriculars you were interested in? This was brutal; there wasn’t getting away from this guy was there? Guess who was going to die in Greece? Yep, you.
You carefully nodded in your seat but you had to ask, “wait, I’m confused? Does this mean there’s some sort of screening process? You didn’t specify the amount of slots in the sign up sheet.” Chittaphon and Jaehyun were looking at you, but you got through and just avoided their gaze altogether. The sweat between your thighs made themselves unbearably known already, couldn’t he look away?
“No, no screening process. This is performance based, since you’re getting paid to go there and you are getting extra credit on the job.” You nodded, exhaling through your half opened mouth. It seemed fair enough, and you weren’t intimidated at all at the challenge. “You can pass your entries on Medusa on my desk while I fix up, you’re dismissed.” She instructed, and you were the first one to act upon this; wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible. Your hands unstably flinging inside your bag to search for the paper in the portfolio you always kept neat. Unluckily for you, you didn’t notice this morning you placed the thing upside down, and your write-up on Medusa fell out. The only real skillful reflex you did have was realizing that your two all-nighters worth of discussion was going to flop somewhere unsanitary on the floor, and with that you never reached for something so quickly in your life.
It came to mind that you must have looked like a clown. As you tried your best to manage out of not completely looking like a fool in front of Jaehyun, you softly slammed the paper on the desk and sprinted out the lecture hall.
Jung Jaehyun, who was calmly standing behind you was sort of worried at the large stockpile of paperwork he saw you whip out from your bag. He never imagined any girl carrying that much stuff in what looked like a purse. It was an adorable quip, how he noticed you were always around just keeping your head plopped down in some book or the latest reading assignment, and a few moments ago you were making a mess out of skimming through a portfolio trying to look for your paper amongst the multitude of them. That was how he got his hands on a paper you decided not to pass in your social sciences class about the things you wanted to do before the semester ended, he wanted to give it back but you were too fast for him to catch up on.
Kim Doyoung had been pestering you all period just because you briefly mentioned that you finished the short essay for this social sciences class but decided to scrap it altogether and start fresh to write an entirely different one. He would have let it slide, but when you said you had (accidentally) printed it, he definitely wanted to read the initial one. The two of you were kind of close; the History major sharing relatively the same schedule (except for your Literature class and Creative Writing class.) Some unspoken rule between the two of you was to be seat mates for all the same subjects, but outside the lecture halls you two only passed each other in greeting. Coincidentally, he was on the basketball team as Jaehyun, which was more why you were too shy to really converse with Doyoung around campus: their little group stuck together like glue.
So it was a little odd, that he accompanied you walking out of class, adamant at reading this paper. The two of you settling on a shaded bench by the quad when you exited the languages building. “Okay, okay. Fine. But only this one time Doyoung, you aren’t allowed to read anything else of mine from now on.” You said in defeat, slinging your bag up front to be able to take out the painfully faithful portfolio you had.
“That’s a lie,” he rolled his eyes in such ‘Doyoung’ fashion unimpressed, he was trying to make it look like you were in the losing end but he actually enjoyed your work, “you actually enjoy my constructive criticism.”
You slapped him very quickly by the arm, “but that’s when we actually have to pass the papers I let you read!”
He rubbed at the spot, “ouch?”
Scrambling through the different colored sticky notes you used to organize each subject you took, it made your heart jump a little bit; you couldn’t find the fucking paper.
For some reason the first reason you could muster up in your head that this was some terrible joke that Doyoung had planned, trying to get you to look for this mysterious paper when actually he had it the entire time. It was because it couldn’t have been lost in your portfolio; the damn thing was always organized to a t, it wasn’t possible. “Doyoung, I swear if you had the paper this entire time and this is some joke—“
Someone towered over the sort of peace that you and Doyoung established, clearing their throat to make an entrance. Upon seeing who it was, your throat ran dry. You were a little bit used to being graced by Jung Jaehyun’s presence up close, but now that he most likely heard you throw a bitch fit to his friend, you were extremely flustered. Could it be possible to desiccate into nothing?
Knowing that he had probably approached you to steal away Doyoung, you found yourself running away from Jaehyun once again. Awkwardly offering a little bow, you went to any opposite direction that your body threw itself at.
Today was really your lucky day wasn’t it?
Two days later on a late Friday afternoon, you found yourself in the middle of a sea of people, only your friend Lisa accompanying you. There was a friendly game of basketball between your university and the neighboring one that was three blocks over, but a friendly game never meant that anyone would miss a chance at viewing probably one of the most attractive and (arguably) most skilled college basketball team ever— which meant that eighty percent of the population that was also watching were in it because Jaehyun’s team was hot, and the other twenty were here because they were interested because they knew it was going to be a good fight.
“Did you hear?” Lisa was basically shouting at you through all the mixed voices in the bleachers, “apparently the big leagues got word about our basketball team, the guys have been training harder than ever because they could just get a surprise visit from scouts of the big leagues.” She gossiped, and you were sure that this information probably came from Chittaphon because they were in the performing arts sector together - they both danced, and they were both Thai. Their friendship was cut out for them. Chittaphon did not play basketball, but he was part of -that- friend group.
“Good for them.” You tried to act like you cared about the information, but even if you did you knew they had it in the bag; they won every single championship every single year. (That you watched, of course.) The possibility of them landing far better spots as players in the future was undoubtable. Besides, you couldn’t show the teensy bit amount of concern you had for it— you never told Lisa about your little crush on Jung Jaehyun because after years and years of trying to get you to commit into serious feelings she ultimately failed. And this time around you couldn’t come into terms with telling her; you feared you wanted to just keep her believing that you were incapable of being interested with someone long term. Knowing her, she’d try to pull strings to put your feelings into action and that just made you uncomfortable.
The gap between the score of Jaehyun’s team and the neighboring university was impossible for the other team to catch up on. You noticed that there was really no match here, the boys from your university being kind enough to pretend and slip up to give grace points to the other team - you remember Doyoung telling some story about Jaehyun saying this to them during prep. If they knew the team had no match against them, they’d still allow them points in games, it was a form of respect to the game.
With the last few seconds in for the fourth quarter, Jaehyun was able to score another two-pointer. It was like theatre for him, and you noticed he did this all the time during games. In some sense, there was a flare of drama about having the crowd go wild for the final time until Jaehyun would we swept off the floor by his teammates. Johnny and Mark struggling to keep their team captain balanced because their heights didn’t correlate, Taeyong and Doyoung ending up just laughing.
That was what called it though, when everybody around you stood up to cheer Jung Jaehyun on and the buzzer went off. Then all the boys carried him up to put him down on the ground again. People seated on the bleachers made their way to walk to the court and give their congratulations, and some exiting the hot and sweaty court. Lisa knew that you’d prefer to wait it out a little bit because you disliked being lodged between so many bodies all at once. Of course, your eyes drifting toward your crush, a typical scene unfolding before your eyes.
Brianna Chang and her, very popular, group of sorority girls went up to Jaehyun. Brianna holding up a gigantic banner with his name on it; she was about to confess, like one of the many who have attempted to. You could visibly see Mark and Johnny hollering at the back— and this was mostly because Brianna was a very gorgeous girl and she got a lot of good credit. She was talking to Jaehyun, and when he gave her his dimply smile you simply snapped out of narrowing your gaze to get out of here. Why did you even care, right?
Throughout the years you’ve heard boys’ talk about who liked who and who liked what. Curiosity got the best of a lot of you, inevitably hurting yourself over the idea of Jaehyun’s apparent ideal type, and you were very true to yourself in knowing that you were extremely far from it. You weren’t the sporty type, of course you watched and were interested but never the type to actively play. You weren’t one of those model types either, always being a little more unnoticed and always sticking to your own style. It really was not the case that you minded not being as beautiful as everyone else was. Sure, your self-esteem deflated whenever you compared yourself (or in some cases got compared) to most of the prettier girls in campus, but it’s just that you did not at all feel the need to be competitive anyway. You tried blanketing your insecurities with unstable apathy where you thought that maybe ignoring it meant that you never really had to deal with it, and for some part it was true.
Cold air hit both you and Lisa as you exited, some burst of temperature making you feel a little melancholy inside. Being in the court bleachers in the humid atmosphere with your heart beat getting quicker and quicker with the sight of Jaehyun then going out to the sudden cold felt like a parallel at how you felt about him. You liked him, it wasn’t complicated. If it were a comparison at with how you felt for boys before, it was a difficult one to make. Liking Jaehyun from a distance meant that you just liked him, no perfect explanation, it was just that he made you feel warm inside - and it seemed that every single time you got close enough, your stomach churned and cried a time out. Either way, it was easily identifiable to say it was difficult to like somebody and not really understand why, you could give a million reasons why he was outwardly perfect, but you didn’t know enough about why he made you feel so deep. Especially since the person you liked was Jung Jaehyun.
“Let’s to grab a drink.” Lisa gave you puppy eyes as she grabbed at your forearm with both her hands, she knew you wouldn’t easily budge.
Pretending that you were actually thinking about it, she stomped at the ground. You actually had nothing coming up for you for the weekend, and it was a Friday night after all. Perhaps you would allow her this one time. After all, you seldom went out. And right now you wanted to erase the pit burying itself into you, seeing Jaehyun being confessed to by such a great girl - you wanted to drown yourself in liquid sorries to try and remind yourself that you had no right at all to feel this way. “Okay.” Your friend emitted a high pitched squeal, the rare occurrence surprising her.
It was decided that you’d go to one of the quieter bars on campus that served artisan beer; as there was only the two of you, there wasn’t a need to really party. This bar was a ‘safe zone’ as you’d label it; having gone here a couple times and never seeing the guy you admired, you knew you didn’t have to be nervous at the possibility of him busting through those doors. For the past two days, you noticed that he always seemed to call for Doyoung; Jaehyun entering the lecture hall for your social sciences class to which your response was to go away as quickly and discretely as you could. Failing at the ‘discrete’ part, always.
Picking at the fries you ordered, Lisa began to shoot some questions at you, “so how are things?”
You shrugged, mental capacity a little wary at the moment. “The usual, worrying about the extra credit things I signed up for. I’m not so intimidated about the Greece trip, but I want to be exceptional.”
Your relaxed state of sitting lazily on the barstools with your jackets hanging from them was disturbed when Chittaphon practically appeared from nowhere, wrapping him arms between both of you and Lisa - trying to occupy the very little space there was between the stools.
“Still fretting about academics, Y/N? Isn’t it like a Friday night? Aren’t you supposed to be drinking?” He teased, obviously overhearing what you had said.
“Am I not allowed to be passionate?” You retorted.
“That, yes. But overworked? No, I don’t think you should be.” You gave him a sour face, and he laughed. “I’m just kidding, booky.”
“What are you doing here anyway?” Lisa asked him.
“Just out, I was hoping to run into people I knew.” There was a hint of sarcasm somewhere there, but as far as you could see he was alone. “You guys should join me, sitting on the bar counter isn’t fun! It’s all cramped up.” He offered, and you weren’t in the slightest inclined to say no to Chittaphon. After all, you had a lot of fun moments with him and Lisa was here too.
So the three of you transferred to a table that gave some sort of night view, and you could see the appeal that he was trying to get at. A stable conversation about their next performance came up, Chittaphon trying to explain to you how delicate interpretative dance was— and how one of his juniors, Sicheng, was very skilled at the traditional Chinese dance.
Hollering noise distracted you for a split second, your eyes drifting to the bar entrance because you were honestly a little bit annoyed at being interrupted; you enjoyed listening to Chittaphon’s stories because you didn’t really get the opportunity to go out and talk.
Your lucky streak was apparently still alive, because you knew what it meant that Johnny Seo was loudly leading a pack of sweaty boys into the establishment— that Jung Jaehyun was really most likely there with them.
You knew you loved being creative, but you swore it was cinematic the way Jaehyun entered beside Nakamoto Yuta, the tips of his hair just a teensy bit damp and his hands finding themselves running through them to shake the strands off.
Guess who was royally fucked when Chittaphon waved at his group of his friends to come over?
So much for ‘hoping to run into people he knew.’
The possibility of comfortability was really thrown out the window when Doyoung forced you to switch seats with Taeyong so that he could sit next to you, but Taeyong wanted to be in a ‘talking vicinity’ with Doyoung, leaving the other seat next to you vacant. Some of the other boys went straight to the bar to see what expensive liquor bottle was available, Yukhei shouting “victory party” ten times over.
Good for you, that you were left with your two original companions with the addition of Doyoung and Taeyong. Even better, you were probably six or seven shots of whiskey in enough to have your nerves loosen up a bit.
“Can I sit here?” Never did you imagine he’d ever speak more than an ‘excuse me’ to you, and you were pretty sure it was you he was talking to. Doyoung and Taeyong were engaged in a conversation, and Jung Jaehyun was looking directly at you.
Were you drunk enough to hallucinate? It was time to find out.
You swallowed at nothing; nervous to the point where your mouth ran dry, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.” Overthinking as to why he decided to sit next to you when there were practically ten more chairs that were vacant. He sat down, his hands intertwined at the fingers as he lay them down cooly on the surface of the table. Jaehyun was glancing at you, his adam’s apple bobbing once but really obviously.
“Thank you.” He murmured, and you hoped he would admit that he found this awkward too. His lips were settled on a thin line, and his eyes were just a little bit more wide than you thought fit normal. It was way easier if he decided to sit somewhere else and for you to not sit through potential awkward small talk. It felts as if this was as awkward for him as it was for you.
“Congratulations on the win by the way.” You and your bloody mouth, “but it wasn’t like it weren’t an obvious one.” Your habit of babbling your way out of not actually not wanting him to leave the seat and vacate.
He chuckled a bit, and those dimples and the wrinkles that followed. God, your heart was crippling in your chest, he just looked so surreal. “You don’t have to flatter me, you know.”
It was your turn to give a little laugh. “I think I’m considerate enough not to lie, especially when I’m actually trying to compliment you.” Okay, maybe you had enough to drink to not be threatened by the idea that this was the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Jaehyun.
“Well then, congratulations on being you then, Y/N.”
Your heart thumped hard at that, and you didn’t even know what that meant. So your brows curled into some sort of confusion as you took a quick shot of the alcohol Lisa asked to be presented to you.
“I honestly don’t know what that means Jung Jaehyun, but I’ll accept it like you should mine.” Your cheeks felt warmer, as blood rushed to the skin on your face you hoped he thought it was because of the whiskey. You were definitely turning into a tomato head.
He opened his mouth to speak, a clicking sound being made by his tongue on contact to the roof of his mouth. “I find it weird how I never talked to you like this.” He coughed. “You know, since we have so many mutual friends.” He used his index finger to point at the array of rowdy boys who finally decided to settle down and take seats.
Oh god, he was the one to point that out.
“Well, I mean, these guys only talk to me when it’s class-related.” You joked and Doyoung sort of overheard his forehead crumpling in a fit of disagreement, but then he did not intervene.
Jaehyun found this entertaining and smiled, close to some degree of laughter. “We’ve taken the same classes for years though.”
You pouted, trying to come up with a very good reason in your head. “That’s beside the point, it is quite difficult to try and be casual with just because we have shared the same subjects.” Trying to take a proper look at him, he simply stared back at you. Any shy, logical human being with a proper conscience and responsibility of dignity would stop there. Carry on, and try to convince the other boys to join your conversation. Except that right now in the state you were in, you were not at all a shy logical human being. “Wait are you, perhaps, guilt tripping me?”
“Yes, maybe a little.” He beamed, a smile appearing on his face as he sipped on a beer concoction that looked monstrous. You’ve caught him.
“What do you want me to talk to you about then?” You almost whispered.
He took his hands and laid his elbows down so he could balance his head on his hands, the angle tilted. You never really understood what it meant to have your heart clogged up at the base of your throat, but with this proximity and the kindness of the closeness of Jung Jaehyun— maybe it was what it meant. How was it easy to believe that we were all created in fair and in equal likeness when the warm lights hit the angles of his face perfectly. No awkward shadowed crevice, he was just glowing. “You write, right? Talk to me about writing, Creative Writing major.”
“Why would I need to talk to you about that, aren’t you in my 502 for Literature?” You took your hands and flattened them on top of the table, feeling what was left of the cold where all the iced up glasses were placed.
“How else can I be friends with you?” With squished cheeks, Jaehyun sounded like he was mumbling.
Raising your eyebrows to show your confusion, you wondered. “Why would you want to be my friend?”
It never registered to you, this possibility. Ever. You knew for the longest time that this was a hopeless admiration that probably wouldn’t get anywhere aside from the encounters in class and the distant viewing at games, no more than normal words that strangers would say when they would pass each other. But maybe because you always denied yourself hope because you looked at Jaehyun in Literature and thought that he was so much different: he wasn’t as loud as Yukhei that you could mess around and jab jokes at, wasn’t as easy going as Johnny who complimented the outfits you wore (to which you complimented him back), wasn’t as flamboyant as Chittaphon who was obviously close to you, wasn’t as shameless as Doyoung who constantly bugged you in your major class, and definitely wasn’t as ‘bro’ as Mark— whatever he meant by that. Jaehyun was always just there, perfect, and at times one could say godly. He was too good to touch, too good to have any courage for you to pick up on and even start anything.
Perplexing, how you were even in this fiasco in the first place when moments ago you were practically steaming at Brianna Chang.
“Does it sound unfair if I told you it’s kind of because I feel left out?” He sat up straight to cup at the nape of his neck.
How were you to respond if his words were dripping honesty and your cheeks were burning at every small shift in his actions?
You were a little drunk, a lot bit, maybe drunk - maybe it meant that you could be casual, or you were now overthinking. You were going to vomit words. “Dummy, you aren’t left out at all?” His version of a reaction was to raise both his eyebrows, willing to listen to the rest of what you had to say. “Anyway, you’re popular, Jaehyun. There are probably hundreds of people who’d want to be your friend just off the bat, you’re remotely everywhere. I think I should be the one to feel left out in this table.” The coordination between your speech and your head slowed down a bit, the words slurring between pauses. Jaehyun would correctly assume that you were intoxicated, but you wouldn’t forget how intent he looked at you and how he seemed to carefully process the things you had said.
“It doesn’t mean that I want to be friends with any of them. Most of them only like me for being Jaehyun, the team captain of a basketball team of a game they don’t really pay attention to. Some of them even have the nerve to talk shit about me and how I do in court but say all the nicest things when I’m in front of them. I’m like a clout bag everybody’s trying to break bank with, and I hate to sound this narcissistic, but I’d rather not be friends with any of them.”
Back stiffening at his response you nod, “I think I get it, I wouldn’t either.” But then you decided to make an entire spin at what you were saying. “Really though, me? I don’t think there’s anything striking about me. To say you want to be friends with somebody implies that, and there is nothing to imply.”
He hummed as he tried to think of something. “I mean, you’re different.” His face was messed up in a contortion of sourness, and he was very good at masking it up as confusion to answer. Jaehyun tried to open his mouth to say more but you shushed him. You thought you could never be more embarrassed, but the fact that he had nothing else to give you but a sour face and a vague answer made you want to disappear from here like you have from him for the past two days.
“You really don’t have to say anything else.”
Jaehyun completely switches the awkward part. “Back to what you were saying earlier, I’ll make you feel less left out then if you agree that we’re a little bit closer at being friends?”
“I can’t stop you if you really want to.” With this, he beamed and it physically hurt you to see him smile as brightly as he did.
To save you from yourself, but eventually not really, Wong Yukhei pulled you away to test your strength as beer pong. He asked the bar to pull out their game table and you already knew you were going to die tonight.
There was no recollection of ever getting to bed last night, or rather, ever getting home. The car sounds outside kind of beat you to it though, and the smell of the familiar dust that streamed through the windows. You got home last night, and it confused you enough to scramble up and look for any trace of clues that would explain why you were safe the very next morning. The last sure memory you had was puking on some random sidewalk outside the bar, and that was pretty much it.
A notification bell sound from your phone came in perfect timing, you received a text from a contact name you don’t ever remember saving.
Friend: Are you awake? (7:32am)
Friend: Oh, nevermind you must be asleep you were practically destroyed last night (7:33am)
Friend: I’ll stop texting now in case that woke you up, go back to sleep (7:35am)
Doyoung, Lisa, and Chittaphon definitely had their numbers saved on your phone, so this could be someone you were with last night. Yukhei probably? No, the two of you were as far away from touching phones last night since you crushed the guy in beer pong - but it definitely saved him the chance of being a little more sober than you were. It couldn’t be Mark or Johnny because they definitely were puzzled in their own dumb arguments about the creation of the Nintendo for the entire night. On the off chance that this was Jaehyun, why was he texting you?
Landing your palm to your forehead, you just remembered. ‘Friend,’ he thought he could be sly and have that as his name on your phone.
You: friend? really? are you? (7:41am)
Friend: Caught up on that huh? 😏 (7:42am)
You: it’s the only non formal name on my phone 😒 besides we aren’t friends yet (7:45am)
Were you actually teasing Jung Jaehyun?
Jaehyun ‘Friend’: Okay then, I’ll have to work for that title ☹️ (7:47am)
Jaehyun ‘Friend’: How’s your hangover? (7:47am)
You: terrible (7:48am)
You: i meant to ask,, how’d we exchange numbers? and how did i get home (7:50am)
You: assuming you weren’t as drunk (7:50am)
Jaehyun ‘Friend’: You said you were scared of Night Crawlers chasing us so you asked me to bring you to your apartment, and I told you to give me your phone to put my number in and get yours (7:53am)
It felt embarrassing now, but you were relieved that you didn’t profess your love for Jaehyun on the way home and that you didn’t make a gigantic mess of yourself. It was nice of him to bring you back home even if you were practically just acquaintances.
You: oh. thanks n sorry (7:54am)
Jaehyun ‘Friend’: That’s the goal (7:55am)
Admittedly, it stung a little bit to only be ‘friends’ with Jaehyun. For what it was worth, it did matter that you were at least able to have this kind of interaction with him now anyway. What was there to complain about when the impossible was happening.
When Monday rolled around two days later, you were sure that there wasn’t any trace of alcohol left in your system but somehow you still felt and looked like shit. Thanks to the prolonged suffering you experienced, you promised yourself never to drink that much again. And never allow Yukhei to challenge you in a drinking sport; you were just far too competitive to prove him wrong. But you still had electrolyte water placed on the desk of your table in your Literature class, thankful that your choice of wearing sunglasses indoors was not super distracting because you sat at the back. You were typing away for another class requirement through sweater paws of your large sweater, waiting for your professor to come around to try to be efficient with the time.
“You still look like a mess.” You didn’t expect Jaehyun to walk up to your seat, but there he was anyway. The insides of your cheeks would really raw out if he didn’t stop approaching you like this, because you kept on chewing them when you had no idea what to say. After he texted you, you two briefly talked about your recovery to sobriety and all the papers you were worried about. Now, it was hard to act like you did not mind everybody else in class who noticed that he made it out his way to go to where he didn’t normally go to.
“So many doses of Tylenol later.” You huffed, looking at the cursor of your laptop and not coming up with anything. You kept your eyes glued on the screen, the mere presence of Jaehyun bothered you. “I think this is alcohol poisoning.”
“Well, that’s what you get for not eating much over the weekend.” He remembered the details of your texts, always seeming to answer no when he asked you if you had a real proper meal.
You reeled your lips in to make a thin line, “you should know by now that attending to basic needs in this college environment is a sin, Jaehyun. I really would rather not fail.”
He looked unimpressed at the analysis. “Don’t you have one of the highest grades for your course level already?”
“You could say, but I want to push myself more.”
A ‘tsk’ left his mouth, “what’s it worth when you won’t take care of yourself?”
“Starving.” You shot back.
“Tell you what,” he didn’t challenge your tone, but kept it quieter and gentler, “there’s this good chinese restaurant I go to when I want to get rid of terrible hangovers. Let’s grab dinner later. After this class maybe?” You wanted to spit out all the electrolyte water onto his perfectly baby blue shirt. It was one thing to go out and coincidentally catch up on a conversation with Jaehyun, and another when he was practically asking you out to be alone over dinner.
You had to breathe; his goal was to be just friends. “I have Social Sciences after this class,” was a way to try and shoot his offer down as kindly as you could, you were sure you would fuck up if you gave him a definite yes. You didn’t want to sound too desperate.
“I can wait by the quad until you’re done. I have your number.” As if he already knew you were going to say something else to get out of having dinner with him, he ran down the steps to sit back up front where he usually would. Your professor had arrived now.
After your last class Doyoung walked out with you again, complaining about the workload you had just received after passing a ten page essay analysis on a random country’s culture.
“It’s just honestly so annoying!” He complained, lips turning to an upset curve.
From a distance you could see Jaehyun standing by one of the big trees, his hands halfway through each of his pockets. He was looking at you, and you had to slow down when you were nearing him.
“Hello.” You whispered to Jaehyun, taking a step closer to him.
Doyoung, a little alarmed, stepped back. “Am I interrupting something?” He asked, and you laughed.
“Just dinner,” you tried to explain, “Jaehyun and I are having dinner.” The phrase felt odd when it left your tongue.
“Just dinner, huh?” Doyoung was on to something, and it was pretty obvious what he was trying to assume. You could only wish that his assumption was the case.
“Just dinner.” Jaehyun said, nodding. He looked at you and looped his arm around your own, “and then we’re getting married.” That made your brain do an entire backflip, Doyoung didn’t laugh either - he found this weird. But Jaehyun wanted to make his joke obvious. “Doyoung, you psycho.”
“Have fun on your date then.” Doyoung skipped away.
A tiny cough left Jaehyun’s throat, the sudden realization that the two of you were now alone made it awfully warm all over your face. Your arms were still looped, and neither one of you bothered to awkwardly untangle limbs.
“Shall we?” Using his free hand, he pointed toward the other exit and you nodded.
Much like what happened when Jaehyun approached you, everybody was staring. Of course, some people could care less in a situation like this - but it felt as if everyone was intent on knowing why you were arm in arm with Jung Jaehyun, intent on dissecting you with their eyes and picking at how you were in the wrong for a simple action. The boy you were tangled in with of course, did not seem to care at all. Even in the most awkward fashion of walking, he seemed to glow with the way the sunset colored him a warm tone. He was used to all the eyes eating him alive, and you couldn’t understand how he did so.
The last time Jung Jaehyun had a girlfriend was when you were in your third year of college, which was a year ago. To say that you didn’t care at the time, was a lie. You basically drowned yourself in 1800’s classical symphonies to the tune of your unreasonable sobbing, ice cream staining the dog ears of your review materials for a few weeks. Advantageous in some sense, the few of your friends thought you were a wreck because of midterms. You promised to yourself that you would get the highest marks and get over the pent up three years you kept in your breast pocket, just a little above your heart. Until you realized, your crush couldn’t go away even if you couldn’t compete with girlfriend - somehow your heart couldn’t surrender. Kristen Sy was the student body president, in her fifth year she managed to finally be the girlfriend of the team captain of the school’s basketball team. For years, and every single school occasion that required the gathering of the student body, people always paired the two together. Intramural awards, department representatives— even when people were going on nonstop confessing to Jung Jaehyun— it was the most perfect idea to put the most perfect guy and the most ideal girl into a couple. On the last semester of the year, you clearly remember during an assembly, Jaehyun making it official by unusually standing by her side during announcements. When asked kindly by some of the hopeful girls in the campus paper, they both confirmed they were really seeing each other. Did it really surprise you? No; perfect people were meant for other perfect people.
Even when they broke up, everyone started to speculate the worst or the mildest reason why they did. But Jaehyun looked like he was doing well, and in every single situation he was in he seemed to be.
The restaurant was cozy, a little bit spacious, enough to make it feel intimate. You were pouring yourself black tea when you realized it was far too quiet between the two of you.
“Progress report for Thessaloniki?” Jaehyun asked you.
“Oh yeah, you signed up for that too.” It came in late realization. Your fingertips played a game of fake piano as the ceramic acted as the only barrier between you poking through the warmth of the drink. “Why did you sign up for it?”
“There’s a little back story to it. I actually just took the class for extra credit purposes, it would look good on paper to have finished Literature. You kind of have to study culture and understand it in Economics, and this is surprisingly an easy way to understand it. I liked the idea of going somewhere to get to learn it better.”
“Why not stick to the more technical social sciences then, I mean, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
He shook his head. “I won’t fall in love with it that way,” some time to gain some thought, “I can connect to it better through passages like the ones we do in class.”
“I get it.” There wasn’t more to say than that, it was a pretty obvious difference you could grasp with his comparison. “For the trip to Greece, I think I’ve been passing really mediocre papers so my performance isn’t quite well as what I want.”
“Mediocre,” he pulled at the word, prolonging his syllables, “that’s how you described the paper you wrote on Anna Karenina. The same one that got called out in class for rejecting the suggested format, but still got an almost perfect mark.”
“It was mediocre though, anyone could have thought of what I wrote of.” You tried to say it as if it were the most obvious flaw.
“On the contrary, when I read it, I thought it was very good. You completely changed the way I looked at the entire plot.” He pondered upon it deeply. “I never looked at love that way.”
“How did you get your hands on that thing anyway?” You were trying to make the conversation a little less tense.
“Well you gave Chittaphon a copy of it after he had asked you to, and a printed copy was laying around in his dance studio when he asked me to practice with him after class. I couldn’t help but want to know what the fuss was about with the winning paper.”
“You talk about it like it’s a contest entry for the state fair.” You laughed.
He only smiled back though, “I want to talk about it like it’s a critically acclaimed piece.”
Through dying laughter you exhaled deeper breaths. “Well if you enjoy it that much then thank you.”
“You’re something else, really.” He said and your heart swole.
After dinner, the two of you were just walking through the semi-busy streets, no one declaring the want to go home. It was significantly colder than you would like; the year just started and the January breeze was gliding by, the days of snow were gone. Dressed not quite appropriately not expecting to have dinner tonight, you were quite cold.
“It’s so cold.” You commented just when he called for a time out to walk to the park.
Leaves on the trees were dancing in their place among the branches, and you could barely hear the bustle of the cars now. Only dark blue light contrasting itself through where you were, they were probably going to turn the park lights on soon. The night felt magical through the shivers of your legs, it was cold but the company of Jaehyun was enough to make you patient.
Placing one of his jackets on your shoulders, you could feel it droop down from the weight. “Here.” He said gently. It was warm warm warm, with hints of lavender and vanilla. Scents you could never imagine being together were even harmonious when he wore it. A petty argument would be brought up if you opposed his kind offer at lending his jacket, and you knew the most normal instinct of a ‘friend’ would be to tell him that you were fine and you didn’t need it, but Jaehyun always claimed that he cared about your welfare to the most minuscule problem he seemed to notice you fretted about. So you wrap it closer around your body and whisper a silent thank you to him.
The only way you were falling was deeper, and deeper.
“Aren’t the trees fascinating?” You ask him, and he looks a little confused as he looks at the strange arrangement of the branches - twisting turning, straight rigid, everywhere all at once. He listens, enough to know when to wait to utter words - this you’ve learned so far. It hurts you somewhere, how he can be so drawn to your words and how he can grant you the gift of lending his ears. “They go through cycles, and they grow and they grow and they grow, all that and they only have life to give.”
To that he still doesn’t respond, you could see the formation of clouds from his mouth - all from the contrast of the heart of his breath to the cold of the night.
“I wrote a piece about trees when I was five, all the lines were in different stupid colors. ‘The trees will grow the trees will die, the trees go bald but they never cry.’” Jaehyun laughs at your sampling.
“Why won’t you come up with things like that again? Challenge the open mic for the poetry club?” He humorously suggests.
“And risk my head at the mercy of Taeil’s wrath?” The poetry club president. “I wouldn’t dare. Plus, I haven’t stopped writing like that anyway.”
He raised a brow. “Oh really?” You dig your hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, squeezing through.
“Yeah, only now I have the means to make it sound more— how do I put this?”
“Real? Feeling?” He guesses, and you nod.
“Bingo.” You give him finger guns, and he gives one back. You really couldn’t be any less of an idiotic fuck of a nerd when he was around, but you were relieved he just went with it.
“I want to read more of what you write.” He expresses out of nowhere when the park lights became brighter, illuminating one of the main exit points.
“Odd choice of what to read, but okay.” You don’t want to question it. “I have a lot of my stuff compiled in my apartment, I could hand some over to you if you’d like.”
He smiles, beams almost, like he’s a child you’ve gotten the largest gift for the holidays. “Really?” It’s unbelievable how he looks like he doesn’t believe you at all. “Won’t that be too much of a hassle to take out of all your files?” He was doing that thing of refusal you forced yourself not to do when he gave you his jacket.
Realizing you wanted to pay back the same amount of kindness, you hatch up the most stupid idea you have probably ever come up with for a long time. “You could come over when you want to.”
“Now then? What about going there now?” He acted like a puppy, you knew you had a somewhat good sense of control but it seemed that in the presence of Jaehyun you just couldn’t say no.
“Only if you promise not to tell me how dirty my place is.” You pleaded.
It was Thursday night when you heard knocking on your door. Coffee was spilt all over your kitchen counter, you were in the middle of cleaning it up from accidentally knocking your cup over earlier. “Just a minute!” Huffing over the coffee staining your notes, you gave up and decided the surface was probably dry enough for you to continue studying anyway.
You were surprised when Jung Jaehyun was standing in your doorway when you opened the door. He held up two boxes of takeout and gave his dimply smile, “good evening.”
A little bit puzzled, you asked. “I thought I told you I’d be studying tonight.”
“And you did say you couldn’t go out to have dinner. So I thought that you wouldn’t be having dinner too anyway.” He explained as he let himself in and you were left to wonder.
Yes, you still very much like Jung Jaehyun, but the level of comfortability he’s built up over the past two weeks after he asked you to have Chinese food with him has gone too quickly for you to even process. Even now when he was setting his shoes just by your ‘welcome’ mat and placing his things in the usual places. The first time he entered your small living space of an apartment, he didn’t say much. Only noticing how many pieces of paper were stacked up in piles, haphazard wastelands of literary texts and worn out books were neatly but messily put down in any surface you could utilize.  He could only say so little when you gave him early pieces you wrote down with angry pens in high school, some works you used to perform at local poetry events, and some works you had just been finished with. It meant something when his forehead creased in concentration, his eyes following every line as his hands gripped on the gritty pieces of paper - you took a mental note when he told you that this meant he was focusing on something and he was probably trying his hardest to understand whatever he was focused on. However, you only noticed that it was the same kind of face he wore in the critical moments of his own games: when the timer would be a few minutes into closing a quarter, or when the other team would catch up on points. The same face he used when he came up with a plan.
For the past two weeks that took Jung Jaehyun to officially become your friend, he persistently asked you to go out for dinner— and in instances that you declined, he ended up in your small apartment after practice and would insist on getting food delivered - wanting to watch one of the vintage tapes you kept of old films. Some of your friends couldn’t fathom the idea of just how casual your friendship with Jaehyun became; one day you two didn’t even bat an eyelash at each other around them and the other they just couldn’t relate in conversation when you and Jaehyun spoke. Doyoung had jabbed at the idea that there was something romantic going on between the two of you, to which you had immediately denied out of the sheer possibility that you were going to expose the little crush you had on Jaehyun.
“I’m convinced you’re going to lose a ton of money buying me dinner all the time.” You sighed at him as he set up the boxes of food he bought for the two of you, bundling up the free chopsticks in the drawer you had for utensils— now it was an overflowing collection, reminding you how often he came by just to buy you takeout.
“I get dinner allowances from my scholarship, it’s really no big deal.” He reasoned out, getting himself a glass of water. “Besides, I enjoy buying you dinner.” You blushed but not enough for him to notice, hopefully.
Chinese food was a tradition now, you’ve slowly accepted the idea that this was now your form of comfort food. More like, it was your new form of comfort food because the company was comforting. Even when silence swallowed you when there was nothing to say, there was this wringing feeling you felt whenever he was around to laugh with half a mouthful of food.
You shrugged, an immediate bodily response. “Well, if you insist.” Sitting down on your chair to get back to reading your notes, Jaehyun gently slid your box over to you.
This goes on for a while, he sits across you from where you sit by the kitchen counter. He asks you how your day was even if you did see each other in class earlier, and then he proceeds to ask you about what you were going on a storm about. Your words are always quiet, perfectly pronounced around the teething sounds— it’s some way to act upon the strange feeling of nervousness that climbs upon you whenever you’re around him; afraid to say something wrong or uninteresting. Sometimes, you think Jaehyun is too kind for his own good. There’s always been some sort of suspicion to how interested he seems when he listens, sometimes you think he is too charitable. Anyone who smiled like Jaehyun, and made people feel they way they did when Jaehyun smiled would probably think the same.
When you finish your dinner in defeat, stomach full and patting at your tummy Jaehyun’s expression deflates.
“Are you busy tomorrow after your classes?” It is not like this is a new question, when it comes out of his mouth to ask you of your availability.
Tomorrow would be a Friday? “If this is an alcohol related question, then I’ll have to pass.” It was a recurring joke. The two of you agreed you could take on an extensive amount of alcohol, but when you did you couldn’t handle the hang overs. Jaehyun joked that you drank like an alcoholic teen but suffered like a middle-aged man, and you couldn’t stop laughing when he made the comparison.
He chuckled to this response too, “no, I’m not asking you to drink.” He said as he folded the paper food box. “Well, at least not for a long time... I meant to ask you if you wanted to watch our practice tomorrow?” He scratched at the back of his neck, and you were sure that he was unsure of what he was asking.
“You mean basketball practice, right?” You were confused, but more on the idea that he was asking you to go and watch him and his team practice - no real thing to actually do there but sit on the benches. Did this mean anything though? It felt that the friendship you agreed on was a little bit more domestic if it made sense that way. Dinner, conversations, and now this was thrown into the table.
“You can ask Lisa to come, I’m sure Ten will tag along if you ask nicely too.” Oh, so maybe there it was. When Jaehyun sounded much clearer it probably meant that he just wanted you to tag your friends along. It made sense though, maybe Lisa was his type, or maybe he felt more comfortable with you when you were with your friends.
You still couldn’t understand, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to act shy and not tackle your assumptions head on. “Do you want me to ask them to come with you? Is this like a group thing?” The pitch in your voice going up as you finished asking.
“Oh. I didn’t mean it like that.” He said hurriedly.
You could only reply with your eyebrows knitting together. For someone who over analyzed plot and text and author intentions, with Jaehyun you could never put two and two together.
“Only if you feel like you’re going to be uncomfortable with being alone, that’s what I meant.” He eased his way to speech.
“I’ll be fine even without company,” you said with a tiny hint of a smile, “but that’s only if you make sure you impress me.”
Things worked out according to Jaehyun’s favor.
That is, when you walked in the school gym, the same one you had gone to to watch most of Jaehyun’s games, you were alone. The other boys did not seem too shocked to see you there, they were probably informed you were coming.
“Hey Y/N.” Yukhei greeted as you ran into him on the way inside, he was wearing the hood of his jacket up and he had his hands in his pockets. He didn’t look as mangy and as wild as he would if you saw him anywhere else aside from the court. You received the same greeting more or less from the rest of the boys, Doyoung going the extra mile and rubbing on the hair of your head with his knuckles. Jaehyun wasn’t here yet, apparently. The person who invited you was late to their own practice game. Just when you thought that he’d be late for longer, you could hear the squeaking sounds of running across the gym floor - the friction creating the shrill sound of Jaehyun’s arrival.
He runs to you, placing both his gym bag and his school bag by your feet. “Sorry I’m late.” Jaehyun mutters.
“It’s not me you’ve kept waiting.” You pointed at the rest of the boys who were doing warm up shoots by the ring. On the contrary, if you meant what you said in a deeper context, you were lying. Sometimes when he skipped over you before Literature class would start or when he’d text you to ask if you were free in the evening (you still didn’t understand why he’d repeatedly ask you, he knew that you weren’t the busy type and you always said that it was okay for him to come over or for you to catch up on dinner— except yesterday when you said you needed to study) - you felt time consume at all the possible opportunities. If you were being very honest, you’ve waited for him for about four years now. Even when you two were friends, it’s like you were waiting for him to figure you out like the way he’d figure out those fucking annoying equations he solved for his finance class. You wondered why he was terrible at the rhetoric of deciphering emotion when you knew on your own that you were terribly obvious.
He only smiles, his eyes a little wider, he was hopeful you’d come and you did. Running to the court, you only watched feeling your heart sink. Another thing about Jaehyun was that he kept his promises. You already knew for sure that Jaehyun was a really good athlete, but when you had challenged him to impress you there he was: continuously making dunks at the ring as if it was nothing, while the rest of the boys were already tired. It’s been about an hour and a half of you quietly observing in the background, tempted to snag a book from your bag and read a couple of chapters, but Jaehyun was taking glances once in a while so you had to really play the part of paying attention to every little detail of their warm up game.
Johnny Seo was bending his back down his palms on his knees as he breathed heavily, “time out dude.”
Mark who was jogging across to grab a water bottle might as well look the same as Johnny. “Yeah, I’m like, about to collapse.”
A smile was still sitting on Jung Jaehyun’s face, sweat collecting at his forehead. Then you realized you’ve never seen him not smile, he’s always been an epiphany of happiness. And it radiated, all the damn time. Except, something about witnessing him now made it look like he was just a little extra happier than normal. Jaehyun made a final three pointer, then he came running to you. He took a hoodie out of his gym bag to wear, the hood covering his head just for a few seconds.
“Could you pass me my bottle?” He pointed at the poor, fallen down thing by your feet. To which you picked it up and handed over to him, hands only brushing for a brief second. Skin-ship was never really established between you and Jaehyun, always just brief glances of eyes, whispered distances of awkwardness— two feet spaces your kitchen counter provided, a table apart in restaurants. You were lying if you’d say that you never wanted to actually do something about the palpitating distance you always laid out, it was an obnoxious obstacle that reminded you that you could only do so little. In your head it felt right if you were the cool and laidback female friend that would only casually talk to Jaehyun, a tinge of iciness to sequester yourself as that.
“You should work a little bit more on your wrist, it kinda loses aim when you swing.” He could see you through the weird angle as he took gulps of his water.
Surprised when his chin retracted back down he asks. “Oh? You noticed? Thing has been bothering me since the last game.” He swung his arm around.
You teased. “Yeah it was a little obvious during the second quarter, maybe you should try using a wrist curler.”
“Since when did you get into sports?” He plopped down next to you, you could practically feel how the heat radiated off of him.
Doyoung intervened, placing a foot by one of the benches. “She’s actually really into sports, but she can’t play for shit.” Taking ballpoint pen from your pocket, you threw it at your friend. “Ow!” Jaehyun was laughing beside you, clutching at his stomach against the loose grey hoodie he wore over his jersey.
“Actually, I think that basketball is very interesting.” You commented. “That’s the only real reason why I ever attend your games.” Lie, it was also because you wanted to see him.
“Oh, you do? I don’t think any of us have actually ever noticed you attend though?” Johnny swept in to be part of the conversation as well, a quizzical look on his face as he dried his hair off with a little face towel.
“I notice her,” Jaehyun answered, and you wanted to choke on air if it were remotely possible at all, “she waits for the crowd to subside before she leaves. Always sits at the back.” So he really does notice you.
Johnny shoots a funny look at you, “always the back sitter, Y/N.”
“At least I don’t block the entire row, you ten foot monster.” Johnny deflates but everyone else laughs at your come back.
After everybody decided that it was getting late and that they were tired, you found walking out into the cold with Jaehyun when the other boys split ways.
“Let’s get dinner.” It was thrown around as a reminder that you weren’t left alone during your evenings anymore because he was always with you. Though, it was a little late into the evening now and you were sure the regular places you went to were closed at this time.
“Where?” You wondered aloud.
Jaehyun hummed, “we’ll find a place.”
This time around, you were actually in his car’s passenger seat. Normally you would have walked somewhere, but apparently when they had basketball practices he would bring his car to school because he’d be too tired to think about walking or commuting back home. Surprisingly, his car smelt like generic air freshener - it wasn’t how you would picture it like. You imagined an array of extra clothing be piled in the backseat, or maybe stray CD cases on the floor. Instead it was neat, like he just bought the thing. He was a good driver too, so far getting out of campus wasn’t a problem. But now you were in a significantly cramped up space inside a vehicle with your crush, the silent atmosphere was a whole lot awkward than usual. Even with his eyes on the road he managed to fish is aux cord out to play music through his phone.
The guy had a Friday night Spotify playlist, how much more could you like him?
Lauv was playing in the background, you passed by streets where there were only neon signs and streetlights - stores already closed down. The perfect setting for you to drown in all the thoughts in your head.
Usually, two short weeks would have passed you by in your mind’s fragments of seconds. Somehow, Jaehyun made your two weeks feel like whole years: some uncharacteristic closeness kept these short moments interesting. You could be comfortable in the silence with Jaehyun, and he made it very easy for you to be comfortable to tell him all you could. It was different with him at times, when you reminded yourself you had to keep all of your heart locked up in order to preserve the mess you’ve made of attachment.
He stops at a food place that opens 24/7, but orders you to stay inside the car. So you do, like any other time that he tells you he is up to something - or he has plans he wants to spend with you. You wonder what it is like to be in Jaehyun’s life forever, where you are the one he loves, and you can spend time over eating Kung Pao Chicken with him and he’d look at you like he had seen a star for the first time in his life. But you remember that you can only go as far as trying to make up moments you would never have spent with him anyway; your mind was a dangerous thing when it came to trying to put puzzle pieces together.
A few minutes later, Jaehyun comes back with takeout food. “Can we eat these somewhere else? I want to drive somewhere.” You only nod, you can only nod. And it barely takes a forth of his playlist, but soon enough you find yourselves by the faux concrete bay built by the edges of the river - Jaehyun haphazardly parking enough to see the view of the city lights.
One of the most confused expressions came across your face when Jung Jaehyun told you he’d just get the blankets from his trunk compartment  and that he wanted you to lay on the hood of his car.
“I swear Jaehyun, if I take any part in breaking this car the blame is all on you for ever letting me lay here.” You said in fear as Jaehyun was the one climbing up the empty spot to your left, food in his hands and then you see that he just got a box of pizza and what it seemed like beers.
He only laughs, as you then open the canned beers. Taking a slice and eventually a bite of his pizza, he speaks with his mouth a little full. “I heard news before I came into practice a while ago.” He shrinks with the words, he only whispered them.
“News?” You take a sip at the drink in your hands.
“I got word from coach that the SM League has a lawyer to sign us up for their league after we graduate this semester.” He beams.
You almost just tip your beer over, but quickly get a good grip on it as you try and wrap one arm around Jaehyun in surprise. “Oh my god! Jaehyun, that’s amazing!” It isn’t something you expect when he hugs you back, and gets rid of the half full can of beer in your hands and throws it away for him to get a good grip on you and for you to get a good grip on him.
Touching Jaehyun like this, you think, burns pain into you like you never ever understood before.
“I just can’t believe it.” He mumbles into your shoulder and you shiver. It takes more than a lot of self control to stop yourself from wanting to hold his hair or to pull him in tighter, but Jaehyun is already crumpling you up by the seams and he seems to have no reservations in finding comfort in you like this.
For a while, you cannot breathe. Not when Jaehyun is holding you the way he does. You feel that you cannot breathe for the next month. When Jaehyun is almost always by your side now: taking a seat next to you in Literature class and always annoyingly asks you for correctional tape because he uses pens for his drafts when you’ve told him for the millionth time that he can borrow one of your (many) mechanical pens. When Jaehyun still always asks you out to eat dinner with him after school, and more when he wipes sweet and sour sauce off your chin with a napkin. When Jaehyun explicitly asks you to wear the outfit he’d buy for you (even if you’d constantly ask him not to spend any money on you) when he’d warn you for a ‘messy’ night out. When Jaehyun asks you to read him seventeenth century as he lay on your lap after hours and hours of coming over to study in your apartment, and eventually asking you to go to the theme park to take a ride on the gigantic rollercoasters you hated going on. You swear he’s gone familiar with you each time he catches you off guard with his arms around your shoulders and his hands grazing your arms, even when there are people around who are obviously questioning the whole ordeal. When Jaehyun begs you to watch practice even if it meant that you wouldn’t really watch practice, but instead do your paperwork on the side and look whenever he would score a hoop. More importantly, when Jaehyun is only a few inches scraped away from the surface of your body when you drive to nowhere to look at the stars on the hood of his car— and he tells you he is more than excited for all the opportunities the world has for him.
You learn that your lungs get squeezed in all its awkward positions when he admits to you all his fears, the odd things he wants. How he brings you along in malls to shop for the most useless things he thinks he needs, but you don’t bother telling him ‘no’ because you can never say that to him. When he cries when he’s just a little bit more than drunk, and he tells you he regretted ever getting a bowl cut as a child. When he brings you around his friends all the time because he tells you that you need to go out more. When he tells you that he wants you to write words of him, and only for him. When he feels the difficulty of responsibility - that he carries the burden of taking one for the team. When he tells you he honestly doesn’t care about what other people think. When Jaehyun tells you he’s so good at economics and makes a joke about taking advantage of the capitalist system when he becomes a star. You learn your windpipe is busted when you look at Jung Jaehyun and you think, in the minuscule voice in your head that tries its best not to tell him that you love him so, that he already is a star— and that he’s the brightest you have ever seen.
To no surprise, you also learn that you have fallen deeper and that you are scared. It seems, you will never admit your feelings to him. Not when he tells you that you are one of the most important friends he’s ever made, and it breaks your heart that he’s even closer to graduating. This could be a good thing, right? You could either clear all the awkward air out and tell him that you’ve always liked him, get inevitably rejected, and quickly move on as you won’t see him when he’d be off to play professional basketball. Or, you could preserve the bond you developed with him and remain friends.
Only friends.
next: half time interval
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chocolvte · 2 years ago
nct imagine: the others fight for your attention and make mark jealous
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listen to malamente - cap.1: augurio by rosalía
author’s note — this post was requested but i am unable to find the ask atm.
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mark had been pouting on the couch for the past half hour and you still hadn’t noticed. you were too busy helping jaemin pick which shirt to wear for his totally-not-a-date lunch with the girl he liked (they looked the same in mark’s opinion, but then again no one was asking him) and listening to whatever trouble chenle had gotten himself into since the last time he came to you for advice.
“i think you should just apologize, lele,” you were saying when mark tuned back in.
“why?” chenle crossed his arms and flopped back on the couch. he huffed angrily, sending his bangs flying upwards. “i’m right and we both know it.”
“well sometimes it’s not about who’s right,” you smiled, running a hand through chenle’s hair to fix it. “sometimes you just have to say you’re sorry and move on.”
chenle leaned into your touch, thinking that over.
“maybe,” he finally replied, reaching up to keep your hand on his head when you tried to remove it. from his spot at the edge of the couch, mark rolled his eyes. “but i still think jisung’s being stupid.”
you laughed, ruffling chenle’s hair one more time before you stood up from the couch as the sound of jeno’s voice calling your name carried around the corner from the kitchen into the living room.
“y/n! we’re out of milk!” jeno came around the corner, empty milk carton in hand, just as you were about to go to him, and nearly crashed into you.
“y/n!” jeno sounded surprised, but his hands still flashed forward to keep you from falling. once he made sure you were upright he gave you a quick once over. “you okay?”
“yeah, i’m good,” you smiled warmly at the boy in front of you, still not used to him being the taller one. “did you need my help with something?”
“oh, yeah, there’s no milk left,” jeno held up the empty carton, shaking it for emphasis. “can you drive us to the store?”
“i need twizzlers,” hyuck’s voice came from behind you. he must have snuck past you while you were busy trying not to fall on your face.
“you do not need more twizzlers,” you flopped down on the couch next to the boy in question, reaching over to gently smack him upside the head. “you’re going to make yourself sick.”
“please, y/n,” hyuck reached over to play with the ends of your hair the way he knew you liked, looking at you with the saddest puppy eyes he could muster.
“it’s not like you have something better to do anyway,” jeno chimed in from your other side, tapping out an encouraging rhythm on your thigh.
“okay, enough,” mark finally snapped, pushing hyuck out of the way and tugging you up out of your seat. without another word, he tossed you over his shoulder and walked you back to his room, leaving jeno and haechan shell shocked in the living room.
mark only let you go after he double checked the door was locked, dropping you onto his bed where you bounced softly a few times.
“you okay, markly?” you asked when he flopped down next to you.
“yeah, i’m good,” he smiled at the nickname, pulling you into his lap as you wriggled back towards the headboard. he pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck, letting his face rest there so that you could feel his lips forming his next words against your skin. “i just don’t like sharing you, that’s all. you’re my girl, no one else’s.”
“i’m sorry,” you pouted softly, lifting his face from your neck so you could kiss him. “i didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“yeah, well, don’t do it again,” mark pulled you down so you were laying half on top of him, which always put you both right to sleep. he snuggled deeper into his covers, kissing your temple lightly. “and can you tell the other guys to stop touching you so much? it’s so damn annoying.”
“they only do it because they know you hate it,” you tease, poking your boyfriend’s cheek playfully.
“no, they do it because they love you,” mark smiled in spite of himself, pushing your hand away from his face. “everyone loves my pretty baby.”
“well, i love you,” your voice was completely serious this time. resting your chin on his chest, you looked him in the eyes as you reassured him, “nothing will ever change that, especially not the six idiots outside that door.”
“i know,” mark felt embarrassed all of sudden, like maybe he was overreacting a little. “i just missed you, i guess. i’ve been wanting to do just this all morning.”
the smile he gave you was so sweet it sent you hiding, burying your face in neck, as his beautiful laugh made his chest vibrate underneath you.
“i missed you too,” you smiled against the skin of his neck, eyes feeling way too heavy considering the mid day sun soaking half of mark’s bed in golden light.
mark hummed, running a hand up and down your back as he noticed you getting sleepy.
“it’s okay, baby, just close your eyes,” his voice was a soft rumble against your cheek. “i’ll be right here when you wake up.”
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freakynct · a year ago
warnings: soft dom!lucas, size kink, unprotected sex, fingering, praising and mild dirty talk
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you let your head fall back, eyes rolling to the back of your head as an overwhelming feeling takes over your body. you were comfortably surrounded by fluffy pillows, your fingers digging into some of them everytime lucas reached that sweet spot inside of you, three long fingers working skillfully to bring you to your orgasm.
"that's my good girl." lucas sweet voice praised you while his fingers picked up speed. "you think you're ready to take my cock?"
it had been around a month since you and lucas started dating but you were always scared to do anything sexual with him because you knew how big he was, you once were able to take a glimpse at it when he was walking out of the shower. but only now you had spoken to him about it, confessing your fear to him and now here he had you, sprawled on the bed, his fingers training your pussy to take his cock.
"i-i don't know. i'm still nervous." you whimpered as his thumb came up to rub slowly at your clit while his fingers kept thrusting inside you.
"but look how well your pussy is sucking my fingers in, princess. you're doing so well." you could feel more of your juices spilling out of you as you heard those words come out of his mouth. "and you're already so wet, you're dripping on my hand." and he was right. the palm of his hand was completely covered in your juices, glistening. "i think you're ready, baby."
you looked up at him with sparkling eyes and he gave you a warm little smile, reassuring you. you nodded your head and he slowly removed his fingers from you, making you gasp.
he stood up and started undressing, your eyes locked on him. as soon as you saw his size, the nervous burning feeling came back to your stomach but you couldn't stop feeling aroused at the same time with the thought of his big cock fucking into your tiny pussy. you shrunk a little against the pillows, biting nervously at your bottom lip and lucas sat on his knees in front of you.
"come sit on my lap, baby." he holds out his hand to you and you grabbed it, coming up to straddle him, his arms immediately wrapping around you. you felt so small on top of him, his body so much bigger than yours but being holded by him comforted you and you felt safe. he tucked a small strand of your hair behind your ear and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, your eyes closing at his gesture, a little smile creeping into your lips. "you're so beautiful, princess. i know you're gonna do so well." he reassured you and you nodded, leaning forward to kiss his plump lips, your clit rubbing ever so slightly on his cock making you whimper.
"xuxi, i'm ready." you whispered against his lips and the tip of his tongue licked softly at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth and you granted, letting his tongue play around with yours in a passionate wet kiss. he lifted your body up slightly, his arms still strongly wrapped around your body and you moaned when you felt his cock rubbing back and forth on your wet folds, teasing at your entrance once in a while.
"are you ready, baby?" he asked one more time, his tip stopping at your entrance, waiting for your permission.
"yes, please." you murmured, resting your forehead against his. you closed your eyes when you felt him starting to slide into you, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, your fingers intertwining with the brown locks of his hair, letting go of a soft whine at the feeling of him stretching you out.
"are you ok, baby?" he was only halfway in and wanted to make sure you wanted to keep going and you rapidly nodded your head. "ok, just relax." he whispered into your ear as you let your head rest on his shoulder, his lips leaving soft kisses all over your neck as he kept entering you until he was completely buried inside you. you left a louder moan and he rubbed your back gently, keeping still to give you time to adjust to his size. he was so deep in you that you could feel him in your tummy and to be honest the sensation was so overwhelming and so much better than what you had imagined.
your hips started moving slowly, desperately wanting more friction and that took lucas by surprise. "so you do like my big cock inside you." he lightly chuckled and you whined against the warm skin of his neck before coming back up to look him in the eyes.
"please move, xuxi." you pouted at him and raised your body up a little so that his cock would come out of you a little bit, sinking back down onto him, making him hiss.
"so eager, aren't we? what happen to the nerves, princess?" his hands came down do grip at your hips and he started helping you bounce on his cock, your sweet moans and whimpers feeling his ears. "hm baby, i'm so deep inside you. you're taking me so well." you started moving faster at his words and one of his hands grabbed the back of your head, making you clash your lips with his, devouring you with his mouth at the same time his thick cock slammed against you.
"it feels so good, xuxi." you moaned against his mouth but even tho the feeling was indescribably amazing, your legs were getting tired and you were getting your energy drained from taking such a big cock. you let yourself fall backwards, pulling him by his neck with you, your lips still attached and you layed yourself on your back against the pillows, his body hovering over yours and even having changed positions, his cock was still inside you and he picked up from where you left off very quickly, thrusting slowly into you again, giving you time to get used to this new position.
"faster..." you gasped against his lips. "fuck me faster, please." you could hear lucas soft swears as he picked up his pace, fucking you faster and harder into the mattress, his eyes locked on you to make sure he wasn't hurting you. he gently grabbed your inner thighs and pushed them as far as he could against your chest, hearing you whimper from pleasure as he buried himself even deeper inside of you, the tip of his cock touching your stomach and this was a whole new sensation for you, one that you didn't wanna give up, ever.
"god, baby. you feel so good around me, so tight." your walls involuntarily clenched around him and you watched as his mouth opened in a silent gasp. you could feel your orgasm building inside you and you couldn't believe how fast you were cuming just from the penetration of his cock. your nails digged into his back, making him hiss and you arched your back, your toes curling as the orgasm washed over you, your mind going completely blank. soon enough you heard lucas loud grunts and then you felt a warm liquid filling you up, the weight of his body pressed against you.
he slowly removed himself from you and rolled beside you, sighing loudly as he ran his fingers threw his sweaty hair. you instantly curled up against him, your leg laying on top of his tummy and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer.
"that felt so good, xuxi." you confessed, grinning against his chest, your cheeks gaining a light tint of pink.
"i'm glad you enjoyed it, princess." his lips pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "i didn't hurt you, did i?"
"no, of course not." you immediately reassured him. "it-it was amazing." you felt your cheeks burning and he chuckled.
"guess next time i'm gonna have to train your mouth then." and your body shivered with anticipation.
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nctauvision · 2 years ago
[11:26 am] “Say that to my face!” 
Those were the last words Johnny said before you stormed off. He paced the room, unable to figure out how this petty fight started in the first place until you returned moments later.
“y/n, look, I’m sorr-”
A stool thuds at his feet. He watches in bewilderment as you step on it, putting each other at face level. Johnny purses his lips, growing more amused when you cross your arms in all seriousness.
“Okay. Now, tell me why you think Captain America is better than Iron Man because that is ridiculous!”
“Really?” He motions to you and the stool. ”That’s what’s ridiculous?”
“You told me to say it your face but you’re too tall so...” 
Johnny loses it and bursts laughing. He couldn’t believe it. He pulls you into a tight hug, still chuckling near your ear. “You’re ridiculous.”
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mistymark · a year ago
the one with the ex boyfriend. [mark]
summary: you and your ex boyfriend, mark, take part in a video interview surrounding your past relationship.
based off of ‘the exes confronting each other’ seventeen series by @skydivingstars
[ex boyfriend interview series masterlist] [main masterlist]
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[The video begins with a bare set. Both the wall and the ground are grey, save for the two black spinning stools in the middle of the screen, only a metre or two apart.]
[Two people walk in, from opposite sides of the screen, gently taking a seat on the stools. They give each other awkward smiles, both nervously fiddling with the caps of their drink bottles before placing them on the floor.]
[We’re currently doing a series on exes and past relationships. I believe your mutual friend asked you to do this? Okay. Well, we’ll just be asking a few questions. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, or if you just need need a break, just let us know. We can skip a question or edit a section out if you would like. Ready?]
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[Could you introduce yourselves and your relationship?]
[Y/n is biting her lip, zoning out.]
Mark, shyly raising his hand slightly as if he were in a class: uh, I'm mark. y/n’s ex boyfriend.
Y/n, suddenly zoning back in: I’m y/n. mark’s ex girlfriend.
[And how did you meet?]
Y/n, smiling at the memory: orientation week in freshman year.
Mark, nervously giggling: I, uh, ran into her during the club sign-up-
Y/n: literally ran into me. I dropped my coffee!
Y/n, beaming at the camera: but don’t worry, he was super sweet and offered to buy me a new one.
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Mark, scratching the back of his neck: I saw it happen in a movie once
[Y/n looks to the side at him, their eyes meet and they both send each other small smiles as if sharing a private joke.]
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[When did you first realise you were interested in each other?]
Y/n, trying to stop herself from smiling: pretty much straight away, actually.
Mark, shyly: really?
Y/n, briefly glancing at him before focusing on the camera: he was cute and he bought me a coffee. of course, I wanted to get to know him a bit more, but, you know-
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Mark, refusing to look at Y/n: I, uh, I honestly didn’t think I had a shot with her after I spilt her coffee
Mark: but when I bought a new one for her, she was really nice about it
Mark: and I, um, wanted to ask her out
[And did you?]
Y/n, straight away: no
Mark, scratching the back of his neck: er, no, I didn’t
[So Y/n asked Mark out?]
Y/n: um, no, not exactly
Mark: our friends, they knew we liked each other
Y/n: they left a note at my apartment that was asking me out on a date and they signed it from Mark with his number
Mark, doing air quotes with his fingers: I got the same note “from Y/n” with her number
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Mark: I texted her first, though
Y/n, dryly: oh yeah, you really took a leap of faith there
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Y/n: does sending nothing but emojis even count as texting?
[Mark tries to kick her stool from where he’s sitting.]
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[Why did you break up?]
[There’s silence for a moment. They both speak at the same time.]
Y/n: we were too busy
Mark: too busy
[They both say ‘too busy’ at exactly the same time. They look surprisedly at each other, shocked they said the same thing at the same time.]
Y/n: we’d been dating for-
[She turns to look at Mark.]
Y/n: just over two years?
Mark, nodding: yeah, 2 years and 4 months I think.
[She offers him a grateful smile before turning back to the camera.]
Y/n: we’d been dating for over two years and we were in our junior year of college and we both got really busy.
Mark: we both had internships and side jobs and studying. and then there was a lot of family stuff, too.
Y/n: it was really difficult to find time for each other, and we missed our two year anniversary.
Mark, glancing at Y/n for confirmation: I think that was the... first time? we thought something was wrong.
Y/n, nodding: yeah, first time for me.
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Y/n: it sucked having to break up when you never even lost interest in the person
Mark, nodding: yeah
Mark: it felt like- it felt like you’d gone overseas or something. like we were still dating and I just never saw you. it didn’t register straight away that we weren’t together.
Y/n, smiling at him sadly: yeah. I felt the same.
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[Zoom in on Y/n]
Y/n: I think I cried for a week when we called it off.
[The camera zooms out to show Mark staring at Y/n, his expression unreadable.]
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[What did you love most about each other?]
[Again, neither of them answer straight away.]
[Mark clears his throat.]
Mark: I don’t think there is just one thing.
[Y/n is surprised by this answer - she clearly had one thing she planned on saying. She listens to him talk.]
[Zoom in on Mark]
Mark, blushing: I kinda- I thought Y/n was perfect.
[The camera pans to Y/n, who is blushing, too.]
Mark: she, um, she was perfect to me, at least. I loved everything about her.
[He turns to see her reaction, and finds comfort in her expression. They both smile at each other, though it’s clear they’re both deep in thought.]
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Y/n: I loved how in touch he was with himself.
[Mark laughs briefly at her answer.]
Y/n: like, he knew exactly what he wanted to be when we first met and he strived to become that person. I thought it was very admirable.
[It is obvious that she’s being sincere due to the blush on her face.]
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[What did you hate about each other?]
Mark: the schedule
Y/n, laughing loudly: oh, god, the schedule
[The schedule?]
Mark, now laughing, too: we had this, like-
Mark, turning to Y/n for help: what even was it?
Y/n: like, a system, I guess? we had this calendar thing where you put your activities and meetings and stuff in - obviously we just had work and classes and stuff - to see when the other was free.
Y/n: we found that, most weeks, the only time we were able to meet was before 8am on a Monday or after 9pm on a Thursday
Mark: because, half the time, we were studying or working or had training sessions or something until late at night
Y/n: we had a schedule so on Monday mornings I’d pick Mark up at 7:30 with a coffee ready and drive him to his morning class
Mark: and I'd pick her up from her Thursday shift at work and we’d hang out then.
Y/n: it was so weird - having scheduled times to see each other
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Mark, quietly, pointedly as he reaches for his drink bottle: it was the best part of my week, though
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[Would you say you were in love?]
[Y/n thinks for a second before nodding.]
Y/n: uh, yeah, I would.
[Mark’s cheeks go even brighter red.]
Mark: me, too.
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[Zoom in on Y/n]
Y/n, smiling fondly at the memory: I used to think we’d get married
[The camera pans to Mark, who is smiling fondly at Y/n.]
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[Would you give it another shot?]
Y/n, looking to Mark briefly before answering: I, um- yes.
Mark, feeling secure now that Y/n has answered: yes.
Mark: definitely.
Y/n: errrr-
Mark, gigging at his own blatant obviousness: yeah, I would.
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[Well, that's it for today. Thank you so much for coming in, guys. You’re free to go.]
Y/n, smiling at the staff behind the camera: thank you!
Mark, bending down to get his drink bottle: thank you, everyone!
[Y/n hops down off her stool, swiftly grabbing the unopened bottle at her feet. She stands up to find Mark waiting for her.]
Mark, checking his phone: so, I, uh, know it’s a Saturday but I was wondering if you had time to go for a drink or something?
Y/n, wincing: I can’t today, I’m meeting Chaeryeong after this.
[Someone off-camera gestures for them to clear the set and they begin to walk off, the sound beginning to fade.]
Y/n: how about tomorrow?
Mark: I’m busy all day tomorrow.
[They are no longer visible on set, only a snippet of their conversation is caught.]
Y/n: ....Monday?
Mark, laughing: 7:30 still work for you?
Y/n: yeah
Mark: great, it’s a d-
[The sound cuts.]
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freakynct · a year ago
「 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 」
— 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 —
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sugar daddy!jaehyun, slight mention of sexual harassment, alcohol, daddy!kink, degradation, dirty talk, choking, oral [fem receiving], spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex and a little angst at the end
𝐚/𝐧: this one shot was heavily inspired by this anons ask and some of the lines they suggested were used, so a especial thank u to this person!
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when you started this all you wanted was an easy and quick way to pay for your college since your relationship with your parents has never been the best and they wouldn't help you pay for one cent of your studies, and if you really wanted to have a better life than theirs, you need this. but when you signed for the website all you got were messages from disgusting old men with the sole purpose of fucking a much younger girl because their wives weren't able to satisfy them anymore. and as you were about to give up and just accept the fact that you would have to keep working at the store where you were constantly sexually harassed by your boss and were the salary barely covered your food expenses, you got a new message, but this time from a much younger man that approached you with a kind line instead of a dick pic. you read his name at the top of his profile: jung yoon-oh. and at that time you didn't know just how much your life would change because of that man.
‏‏‎ ‎
this was already your fifth time meeting up with jaehyun. that's what he had told you to call him on your first date with him, when he took you to the finest restaurant you had ever set foot on. you thought about the memory and how much he had done for you since then, as you stood in front of the big rotating doors of the hotel where you always met him when it was time to thank him for all the money he spent on you. you let go of the hem of the expensive dress you had been nervously picking on since you got there. it didn't matter how many times you met him and did this with him, you always felt a shiver inside your stomach at the thought of seeing him in front of you again, at the thought of his fingers touching your skin again. you finally took the courage of stepping forward and walking inside of the big building, making your way to the reception.
"hello, i'm here for jung yoon-oh." your voice couldn't help but to shake as you tried to deliver your only line, watching as the receptionist's face lit up at the sound of your words.
"miss [y/l/n], yes. he's expecting you at the presidential suite on the 20th floor." she said with the brightest smile on her face while handing you the room's card key and you figured she must've only been this nice because it was part of her job. 
you thanked her and made your way to the elevator, pressing the button to the 20th floor and making the whole journey in silence, alone with your thoughts and the soothing elevator music. you found yourself hesitating as you stood in front of the door where you knew we would be waiting for you. you fixed your hair and dress, preparing to face him but before you could unlock the door with your own key, jaehyun did it for you, standing tall and proud in front of you, your eyes meeting for the first time that night.
"you were planning on just standing there?" his deep voice sent shivers down your body and even though you were still confused as to how he knew you were already there, you didn't dare to question him, walking into the hotel room as soon as he made way for you to pass. 
you nervously stood there, your back turned to him as your eyes scanned over the luxurious and spacious room, already so familiar to you.
"is everything ok?" his voice sounded now closer to your ear, as you felt his presence right behind you, his hands caressing down your arms and his warm breath fanning certain strands of your hair away from your neck.
"hm, yeah. everything's fine." you slowly turned around to face him, a small smile on your lips as you finally had the time to admire his perfect facial features. he was indeed one of the most handsome men you've ever met.
"come." his voice was almost soothing to you, making your body relax as you took his hand that he had extended for you, pulling you across the room to sit at the end of the large king sized bed decorated with fine red silk sheets and small rose petals. you admired the way he moved in his all black suit, his hair pushed back and a shiny silver watch on his wrist as he holded the champagne bottle in his hand, pouring the liquid inside of two tall glasses. he handed you one of them, sitting next to you in bed and you noticed how his eyes ran through your body.
"you look so beautiful tonight." he brought the glass to his lips, taking a sip of the bitter drink.
"thank you. you bought me this dress." you smiled as you looked down at the detailed dress that you modelled, sexy but so sophisticated at the same time, accentuating every curve on your body perfectly, it had become one of your favorite dresses you've ever owned.
"i know. and it fits you perfectly." you lifted your head back up as soon as you felt his warm hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin and as your eyes met his, you saw the dark sparkle in them and suddenly you were reminded of why you were there in the first place. 
"how's college going? have you paid your tuition yet?" you nodded your head, now being your turn to take a sip out of the champagne, frowning your face at the bitter taste.
"yes. thank you, you know, for the money." he could see how sincere you were and jaehyun felt his heart warming up in a way no one has ever done.
"you're endearing." your eyes widened slightly at his comment, not expecting such compliment to come from him. "you're always so grateful for everything i give you." his thumb came up to caress your cheek and you couldn't help but to lean against his hand, admitting to having missed his touch.
over the couple of weeks you spent together, surprisingly he had become more than just your sugar daddy. you had found yourself talking for hours on the phone with him about your problems and even laughing with him. you found a friend and someone you could open up to without feeling any judgement and you felt happy and safe by his side. you saw him leaning closer to you, his hand taking the glass from your hand and placing it down on the floor next to his own. his lips carefully brushed against yours before involving you in a deep and passionate kiss, his soft lips moving perfectly against yours and you had forgotten how much you missed his taste of mint and alcohol against your mouth. your hands found their way to his shoulders as his bigger ones moved over your bare thighs, his fingertips brushing ever so slightly under the hem of your dress and you longed for the moment when they actually reached where you wanted him most. he moved his lips away from yours and you almost whined at the lost of contact, watching him getting up and extending his hand to you and as always you did has he commanded, taking his hold and getting up from the bed, his agile hands turning you around abruptly by your waist so that your back was now facing him and you felt by his rougher touch that you were in for a long night.
he brushed your hair out of the way and over your shoulder, unzipping the back of your dress slowly, helping it slide down your body as his lips pressed a warm kiss to your shoulder, making you close your eyes at the touch, the only piece of clothing covering your body now being a very thin and small pair of white panties. his fingers ran down your exposed back while he continued to press gentle kisses all over the surface of your neck. he turned you around one more time, and if it wasn't for his tight grip on your arm you would've lost your balance. he pushed you to sit down on the bed, squatting in front of you and placing your foot on top of his thigh as he unbuckled your heels and carefully removed them from your feet. you couldn't help but to feel butterflies in your stomach at how gentle he was being with you, knowing that that was about to change in a few minutes. 
"my accountant told me there was a very big expense made at a clothing store in my name." you immediately felt your cheeks burning up, remembering the shopping spree you decided to do with your friend when jaehyun so kindly handed you over one of his cards. you were never someone to just spend a large amount of money like that but you couldn't help but to feel excited when such possession was in your hands. "care to explain?" you avoided his eyes as much as possible, too embarrassed to even look at him after being caught like that and you cursed yourself mentally for being so dumb. you couldn't seem to be able to find your words and you could feel his eyes burning down on you and suddenly you were surprised by the small chuckle he let out.
"i just wish you would've told me. i thought someone had stolen one of my cards." he got up again, his big and strong body hovering over your practically naked one. you were surprised he wasn't mad at you. you thought you would get the biggest scolding of your life but no. all he wanted was for you to tell him that you would indeed spend all of his money on overly priced clothes. you looked up at him with doe eyes, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip and applying pressure for you to part your lips for him.
"my spoiled little girl." he slowly introduced his digit inside your mouth, your lips wrapping around and sucking gently at it, gaining a satisfying grunt from jaehyun and you could feel the wet patch in your panties growing bigger. "what should i do with you?" he tilted his head to the side, slowly removing his thumb from your mouth and moving his hand down your jaw until his fingers were perfectly wrapped around your neck and before you know it he had you pinned down to the bed, his larger body over yours and the way the fabric of his suit rubbed against your exposed skin made you squirm. he applied a little more pressure to your neck and you parted your lips, trying to gasp for air and watching as a devilish smirk appeared on his face.
"you like spending all of your daddy's money on clothes? hm?" he let go of your neck and you were able to breathe normally again, biting on your bottom lip as his fingers made their way down your body, raising goosebumps underneath them as he created a trail of kisses from the top of your neck to your chest. your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his soft lips wrapping around one of your nipples, his warm tongue soothing over the hard bud and he sucked a little harder on it, your hands quickly finding their way to his hair as he worked on your breasts. your legs wrapped around him, wanting to feel him closer to you and to feel his bulge rubbing against your covered core, letting a soft moan escape between your lips at the combination of his wet mouth on you and the friction on your clit.
"you're such a greedy little girl. you have to learn to be patient." his voice was calm but stern at the same time as he sat up on the bed, looking down at your naked body sprawled out on the bed for him, his hands undoing his tie and throwing it somewhere on the floor, his blazer following right after, only unbuttoning two or three buttons on his dress shirt to give him more freedom but he still insisted in being all dressed while you stood there naked, it gave him a feeling of power over you.
he came down to your breasts one more time, giving them quick little kisses before making his way down your body, kissing over your ribs and stomach until his lips where the closest they'd ever been to your core that night, only the little barrier of thin fabric dividing them. he looked up at you as he hooked his fingers on the sides of your panties and you lifted your hips slightly so he could pulled them down your legs. you were officially naked in front of him and you felt vulnerable as you felt his eyes burning holes on your skin. he got up and kneeled at the end of the bed, grabbing your ankles and yanking you down towards him, your dripping core now standing face to face with him and you had the urge to close your thighs together, being interrupted by jaehyun's much stronger hands that holded your legs apart.
"don't be shy, princess. don't you want daddy to make you feel good?" your body shivered as you felt his lips trailing kisses on the insides of your thighs, so close that you could feel his warm breath against your core. you whined when he sucked a small hickie on your skin and your fingers came down to caressed his hair as his mouth got closer and closer to where you were burning.
"please…" your words came out almost as a whisper and a small smirk formed on his lips.
"how bad do you want daddy's tongue?" he pressed a gentle kiss to the outside of your lips and you arched your back slightly, wanting to feel more of him, a deep sigh leaving between your lips. 
"i want it so bad… please daddy." the words rolled out of your mouth without much effort and you finally felt his warm tongue lick up at your wet slit, sucking gently at your clit and you couldn't help but to moan as he worked his mouth on you in such a skillful way. his hands grabbed tightly at your thighs that rested on his shoulders and his eyes looked up at you, his cock getting harder in his pants as he examined the fucked out expression on your face every time his tongue flicked your clit. your fingers tighten on his hair and you received a grunt from his part, sending vibrations down your spine. you whined when his lips left your sensitive nub and he stood up again, standing so tall over you. his fingers worked on unbuttoning the rest of the buttons on his shirt and you took the opportunity to raise your foot up his leg, brushing it against his boner and he quickly grabbed your ankle, groaning at the feeling as you let go of a little chuckle.
"didn't i just say you had to learn to be patient? hm?" he raised an eyebrow at you and let go of your ankle to take off his shirt, exposing his perfectly toned abs to you. but because you weren't particularly in the mood to listen to him tonight, you decided to keep teasing him, applying even more pressure over his boner with your foot and he flinched away from your touch, causing you to laugh at his reaction, a deep sigh leaving through his nostrils as he grabbed your ankle again, pushing it away from him.
"oh i see. you wanna act like a little brat? is that it princess? you want me to treat you like the fucking brat that you are? alright then." and without giving you time to even react to his words he had you flipped to your stomach, your body jolting forward and a whine escaping your lips as you felt a stinging pain where jaehyun smacked your ass. a cheeky smile made its appearance on your lips as you heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and your body burned with anticipation. you were never like this but jaehyun somehow brought a different side of you out, a side that only he got to see.
"daddy, are you going to fuck your little girl or what?" you asked in a whiny tone, pushing your ass up slightly but only getting a harder smack on it in return.
"my little girl is not here, only this greedy brat." you let go of a soft moan as you felt his body being pressed against your back, his hard cock brushing over your ass as his fingers wrapped firmly around your neck, pulling your head back, his lips touching the side of your ear.
"and since you wanna act like one, i'll fuck you like one." and suddenly his body wasn't over yours anymore, his hands grabbing your hips to push your ass up and the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, his length sliding inside you slowly as you whimpered from finally being filled with him. you moaned loudly as soon as he started moving inside you, missing him more than what you would like to admit.
one of his hands came in contact with the back of your neck, pressing the side of your face into the mattress as his other hand kept its place over your ass, grabbing and kneading at the flesh as his pace got faster and rougher, a overwhelming sensation running through your body.
"yeah… you like my cock inside you just like you like my fucking money? hm? greedy brat." all you could do was moan into the silk sheets, your fingers holding tight to them. you felt jaehyun's fingers on your hair, pulling your head back once again and you noticed that you had forgotten to breathe for a second, gasping as his cock hit deeper inside you. "answer me, brat. or have you forgotten your manners too?" you tried to gather your words before answering but you probably took too long doing so because you felt jaehyun's hand smack your ass as his movements got even faster and rougher, wanting you to spit out your words for him.
"yes… yes daddy… i love it… i love your- i love your cock." you spoke between moans, your voice equally as weak as your body was. you clenched around him at the feeling of your orgasm approaching, drool falling from the corners of your mouth into the red sheets from having your mouth open for so long.
"that's my pretty girl." he groaned, grabbing both of your hips in his hands, thrusting inside you fast, he also feeling his orgasm coming closer. "are you going to be a good girl and come all over daddy's cock, princess?" you thought you were going to explode at any moment and you couldn't hold it in any longer.
"yes, i-i'm gonna…" you felt your orgasm finally washing over you, your pussy clenching hard around him and your body shaking as jaehyun's hand caressed the small of your back.
"there you go. let go for me, baby." you cried out into the silk sheets as you came down from the intense feeling, your mind completely blank. you heard him groan loudly and suddenly he wasn't inside you anymore, making you feel unpleasantly empty as you felt his warm cum hitting your back, painting it white.
you couldn't hold yourself up anymore and as soon as jaehyun let go of your hips, your body fell weak into the mattress, your breathing heavy and your eyelids way too heavy to keep them up. 
your body squirmed when you felt a warm wet towel against your back, cleaning up the mess that jaehyun had done. you just layed there, in silence as he carefully brushed the fabric between your legs and your heart warmed up at his kind gesture that he never seemed to miss at the end of a heated session like the one you just had. it didn't matter how rough he was with you during sex, you knew that at the end of it he was always going to take care of you. the rough fabric of the towel was replaced by the soft skin of his hand that now caressed every part of your bare body as he remained seated next to you, his eyes soft as he stared at you.
"you're ok?" his sweet voice spoke and you were brought to reality, slowly sitting up on the bed, nodding your head and jaehyun was quick to hold a soft white robe around your naked body, encouraging you to put it on, his thumb caressing your cheek and a beautiful smile making an appearance on his lips and suddenly you found yourself lost in his deep brown eyes.
"oh wait." he spoke, getting up and walking towards one of the tables where he grabbed a white envelope, joining you on the bed again and handing it over to you.
"what is this?" you spoke, still confused at what was going on and that's when he said the words you never thought could be this painful.
"it's money, for tonight." you couldn't help but to feel your heart break as you were reminded once more why you were there in the first place. you were there for money and you were stupid to believe that for a second he would look at you as more than just an exchange of favors. "what's wrong? is everything ok?" the concern was evident on his voice as his thumb brushed away the one tear you had allowed to fall, shaking your head and forcing yourself to put on a smile on your lips.
"it's nothing. i just… remembered something." you chuckled to push away your feelings and you felt his arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer to his chest.
"you know you can always tell me everything, right?" you looked up at him, a sad smile adorning your lips as you were once again met with his soft brown eyes.
"i don't think i can tell you this." it was your turn to caress the side of his face, pulling him closer until your lips met, moving against each other gently and you knew how that kiss didn't mean nearly as much to him as it did to you.
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jeongvision · 9 months ago
make a wish
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synopsis. jaehyun loves you very much; so much that he came over to your place at midnight to wish you a happy birthday. meanwhile, you also love jaehyun very much; so much that you think that he deserves a very special present from you even on your birthday.
pairing. boyfriend! jeong jaehyun ✗ fem! reader
genre. smut, fluff if you squint a little, established relationship au
word count. 2.9k
warnings. cursing, sexual themes (marking, fingering, choking, grinding, dirty talking, degradation, cum play, power play), some religious analogies
author’s note. make a wish english ver. is making me feel some type of way and jaehyun looking expensive in the mv is not helping me so i had to let it out somehow, so enjoy this thirsty work of art lmao
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Today is your birthday, and all Jaehyun planned was to come over to your apartment at midnight with cake and sing you a happy birthday. After that, he’s all yours for the day. You’re free to do whatever you want, whenever you want with him for 24 hours. He was thinking maybe all you wanted to do is just stay in and cuddle while binge watching some netflix shows. Maybe order takeout if you’re feeling a little lazy to cook, and perhaps a few makeout sessions together here and there if you were feeling it. He could tell from your voice how exhausted you were from your work schedule based on the past couple phone calls.
What he did not expect however, is for you to be straddling his hips as you mark his neck up with purples and blues right after you blew out the candles.
And neither did you.
But that’s what makes it all fun, right?
You arrived at your apartment earlier close to 11 at night. work was tiring today. You work as a full-time cashier at a huge department store down the street. It was decent pay, enough to pay for your expenses and live life a little. You didn’t mind how demanding it could be sometimes, how customers can go from being exceptionally patient with your work to customers being absurdly rude to you for just breathing.
However, some of your coworkers called out for a week due to ‘personal reasons’, whatever that may be. Because of that, your manager has been scheduling everyone to work more to make up for all the missing shifts, including you.
You honestly didn’t mind it.
The only time you do is when it doesn’t allow you enough time to regenerate your social battery that you’ve been draining every night for the past two weeks. And every night before your shift ends, without fail, you always think to yourself how much you can’t wait to go home, take a nice, warm bath, and drift off to sleep, only for you to repeat the cycle again the next day. Oh, and maybe call up your boyfriend, if he was still awake, and talk about each other’s day for a bit.
But today is a little different— you finally get a day off to yourself.
You did your nightly after-work ritual: dinner, shower, bath, doze off a little, rinse, dry up, all that good stuff. But once you got dressed and finished blow-drying your hair, your doorbell rang exactly at midnight. You weren’t expecting any visitors this late, so it was reasonable that you were suspicious.
Who the hell? You were on high alert when you walked over to your front door, a wooden baseball in hand. When you went to take a look through the peephole, there was nothing but confusion all over your face. Why is Jaehyun here? As you pondered on, you noticed he held a beige box in both of his hands. As you peered closer you caught glimpse of the familiar label on its right side: it was from none other than your favorite bakery shop.
And that’s when it hit you.
It’s midnight.
You boyfriend is standing right outside your door, holding a box from your favorite bakery shop.
It’s your freaking birthday today.
You didn’t expect Jaehyun to be at your doorstep with a box of cake in his hands. In fact, you didn’t expect to see him at all on your birthday. You remembered him mentioning he had to work on your birthday. He felt bad that he couldn’t spend time with you. There’s always another day, love, you said to him.
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And here you two are in the present: the candles have already been lit, birthday song have been sang, and the tiny smoke from the candles wafts through the air after you blew them out. Jaehyun told you that he called off work to spend the day with you and you were free to do whatever you wanted to do with him. You initially thought that spending the whole day inside lazing around would be the most perfect idea ever after all those strenuous hours at work.
But you had another idea in mind, an idea that stayed in the back of your mind after he sent you a scandalous text last week, stating all the things he wanted to do with you behind closed doors, away from public’s view. Of course he had to conveniently send it during your work shift and your nosy coworker just happened to peer over your shoulder reading the contents. It was all pure jest, my love, he said to you.
A joke it may be, but there’s no harm in making them come true, right?
Your arms are circled around his neck, legs stationed on either side of his legs with your ass planted firmly on his lap. You’re both sat on your living room couch, bodies pressed against each other with the cake long forgotten on your coffee table behind you. His hands are tucked underneath your shirt, caressing your soft skin.
As you continue to nip all over his neck, marking him up, he maneuvers his hands down to your rear, giving them a light squeeze. You sigh at his touch.
“Baby girl,” he grunts, “just what do you think you’re doing?”
You nip at a particular spot on his neck and he groans out loud. God, just the sound of him is enough for you to wet your panties. After licking down on his skin, you pull away from his neck and look down at your creation— there are blue and purple galaxies all over his throat, his lips are red and had a little swell to them from your sloppy makeout session earlier, and the eyes he looks at you with are filled with nothing but carnal lust for you.
You can’t help but feel pride burst in your chest because you did that. You made him, Jung Jaehyun, your boyfriend, look like that.
You gave him a lopsided grin, and he thinks to himself how he can’t wait to wreck you apart inside and out. “What does it look like I’m doing?” you cooed. You can feel his clothed erection poke at your thigh, pulsating underneath, so you grind on it teasingly, watching as his eyes roll back with his mouth open. “I’m just doing what my boyfriend wished for me to do through our text messages the other day. I wanted to show how appreciative I am that he came over and wished me a happy birthday.”
You face moves closer to his, your lips a breath away from his own. You lower your voice down to a whisper, “Is that wrong for me to do?”
He releases a throaty groan. You can feel him bucking up to gain some friction on his dick but you lifted your hips up a little from his lap. “Fuck,” he grunts.
You giggle softly at his reaction. You were never the one to take charge in bed. Jaehyun was always the one to initiate something and follow through with it. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you loved it. but the power you felt over him now was But you feel drunk on the feeling; you savored it, you felt intoxicated, and you wanted more.
Fuck it, screw those text messages. Let’s change it up a little, shall we? How about you take charge for the night?
But little did you know, that is exactly the opposite of what he was going to give you. It may be your birthday, but there’s no way in hell that you’re going to top tonight. You already mentioned those text messages he forgot about, and there’s no way he’s going to make you turn your words back on it.
Before you could even register anything, his right hand that was planted on your ass moves to your front where he cupped your clothed sex. You gasp, eyes blown out, hands now gripping onto his shoulders.
“O-oh!” you mewl.
And so, the reins have been handed over to him. As it should, he thinks. He smirks a little. His fingers rubs against your core at an agonizingly slow pace just to tease you a bit. He could feel the heat radiating off your body and wanted nothing more than to bask in it.
Just as he was about to move his hand away, you grab his wrist to hold it in place.
“Mm.. more..” you quiver.
He clicks his tongue. “Dirty little whore.”
After feeling how your thin shorts were starting to get drenched, he pulls his hand away from your grasp and shoves them inside your panties. Immediately, he can feel you dripping, his fingers and palm collecting all of your essence. His fingers deftly circle your clit before gliding them back and forth on your soaked folds.
Your mind is in a spiral.
“Holy fuck!” And holy, his fingers are, especially when he inserts two fingers inside your pussy. “O-oh my god, Jaehyun-n!”
He sadistically thrusts in and out of your entrance, his thumb stimulating your nub, your moans getting more fervent. “Acting all spoiled just because I’m letting you do whatever you want with me for your birthday. Just who do you think you are? Should I remind you who’s the one in charge here?” he growls.
You whimper at his words, shamelessly grinding yourself onto his hand as his other wraps snugly around the back of your neck.
He grins, face dangerously close to you now. “Now look at you, all fucked out from only my fingers. This pussy just can’t wait for me to fuck you nice and deep, huh? Is that what you want?”
You didn’t answer him, your mind too preoccupied from the bliss his fingers are giving to you. The sweat forming on your skin created a glistening sheen on your exposed collarbone, and all he wants to do is to just ravage it.
And he just might.
His hand wrapped around your neck tightens a little, sending more pleasure through your body and core.
“Answer me, slut.”
You cry out a little, “Y-yes.”
“Yes, what?”
You fail to swallow back your moans. “I-I want you to.. fuck me nice and- oh!”
His fingers hit that delicious spot inside you, your body jerking in response.
“Fuck you nice and what?”
Your sighs come out shakily, “Nice a-and.. deep, with your c-cock- oh my god!”
“God can’t save you now, fucking slut.”
He feels you tightening around his fingers, sending him to fasten his pace. Your grip on his shoulder intensifies, enough to painfully indent his skin. After a few more thrusts from his fingers, a coil inside you snaps, stars blurring your vision as a shockwave overtakes you. You did nothing to suppress your screams as your juices flowed out your core. His fingers continue to thrust in and out of you throughout your orgasm but finally stops as he sees you start to calm down.
Your breathing is erratic, trying to catch up after that earth-shattering orgasm you just experienced. After he feels you relax in his embrace, he lets go of your neck and rests it on your waist. He pulls his fingers out of your pussy and you shuddered at the loss of contact. Your cum slowly drips out of you onto your panties and shorts, some of it gliding onto your thighs where he can visibly see it.
God, does he want to have a taste. You’re definitely going to need some new shorts and undies now. With your half-opened eyes in a complete daze and your breathing evened out, he brings his fingers to your lips, staring dauntingly at your orbs.
And you obliged. He pushes his fingers past your mouth and you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself. Your tongue swirls around his digits, all while maintaining eye contact with him.
He gravely groans at the sight. “So naughty..” He pulls his fingers away and takes hold of your chin, ravenously capturing your lips with his own, tasting a little bit of you in the process. Your tongue glides past his as he dominates your mouth whole. Your arms wrap around his neck once more, pulling him closer to your soul. His lips are always soft, and yet he kisses you as if he wants to devour you up until your knees buckled.
He breaks away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, and he maneuvers his way down to your throat.
Now it was his turn to paint your neck pretty.
“So fucking naughty for me,” he moans. As he assaults your neck, you rack your nails through his hair, gently pulling on its ends. You could feel him sigh onto your neck as a result of it. He honestly loves it when you pull onto his hair, almost a little too much.
After he was satisfied with his artwork, he looks back up to you and delicately pecks your lips. The corner of his mouth lifts, his dimples now on full display. “Happy birthday, baby.”
You tiredly giggle at the complete change in his demeanor. You were so in love with this man, and you would do anything to make him happy.
“Thank you, my love.”
He grins at you. And he was so in love with you, he would do anything to keep you happy.
He kisses you once again, this time with much more passion and purpose. He held onto your waist as you held onto his neck, enjoying each other’s presence. Afterr staying in each other’s embrace for some time, foreheads touching, a thought popped in Jaehyun’s head.
“You know, you never told me what you wished for.”
Oh, but what is there to wish for when your present is right in front of you?
You shrug your shoulders, “It’s nothing really.”
He tsks out loud, “Baby, we both know that’s a lie.” He moves away from you and leans forward to the side of your face. And all of the sudden, you feel him nibbling your earlobe, kitten licks in between.
You bite down on your lip, struggling to keep your composure together. Surely, you were still recovering from your last orgasm— the attention he was giving to you got you feeling aroused for him again.
He snickers gravely.
Oh how fucking sinful the sound of that is.
“Come on, baby girl. Just tell me. Maybe I can make your wish come true.”
The moan you just released was lecherous to him.
“Answer me, then you shall receive.”
The devil works hard, but Jaehyun works harder.
You quiver at his command. No matter how many times you were intimate with each other, you could never get used to all the dirty talk. Jaehyun was always clear-cut about his wants and needs, but you never were. Mot until you’re pushed on the spot like now.
You swallow down your embarrassment and meekly respond. “I-I.... suck you..”
He stops his teasing and backs up to look at you. “Hm? What was that?” His smirk returns. “I didn’t quite catch that. Speak up, baby. Use your words.”
You refuse to answer, but he pays no mind. You’ll eventually cave in, you always do.
“Baby, I’m waiting.”
You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “I didn’t wish for anything.”
“And why is that?”
You eyes opened up but you look away from his gaze, humiliation all over. Hou stammer over your words, “B-Because.. you’re my birthday wish.”
He lazily grins, bringing his left hand to cup your cheek. That’s when you decided to look up into his eyes. “And what do you wish to do with me?”
You gulp. “I want to.. suck you.”
“Suck where exactly?”
Fucking hell. He’s enjoying this way more than you are. Just who is getting their birthday present here? You groan out in a frustrated manner. To hell with this.
“Your cock. I want your cock in my mouth. O want your fucking dick in my mouth and I want you to use my mouth and fuck it like your own personal toy.” After realizing that you just said, you gasp and covered your mouth with both of your hands. You’re now embarrassed out of your mind, completely wanting the ground to just swallow you up.
You just said that to him, but Jaehyun found it quite adorable that you were capable of saying such things.
And so, he removes your hand from your face, grips on your wrist, and kisses you, a loud smooch throughout the room. After that, he places one of your hands onto his prominent bulge, painstakingly waiting for you attention this entire time. “Baby, you don’t have to say it twice.”
And you couldn’t have been quicker. You step off of him, assuming position with your knees on the floor. He hastily stands up from your couch and works on unzipping his jeans with your help. After pulling his dick out, your mouth waters. Veins aligned along its sides, red at the tip with precum leaking out.
He chuckles at you. “Aren’t you an eager little whore?”
Your eyes shoot up to his, eyes sinfully taking you in. “Just can’t wait to have my cock in your mouth, huh? Greedy little whore. zi bet all you want is my cum in your mouth.” He clicks his tongue.
With one hand on his member and the other holding onto the back of your head, you look down at his shaft. You feel him guiding your head towards him. With your mouth wide open, tongue splayed out for him, you could hear the grin in his voice.
“Happy birthday, baby girl. Now make a wish and blow.”
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kwanisms · a year ago
You Called? - syh
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⤑ genre: smut, supernatural au, demon!Johnny ⤑ pairing: demon!Johnny x Reader ⤑ warning: sexual content, choking kink, unprotected demon sex (use protection, kids!), demonic themes, cursing, praise kink, oral (giving & receiving), creampie, slight body worship, use of pet names.  ⤑ summary: After your neighbors summon a demon who mistakenly ends up in your apartment instead, he decides to make a deal with you instead. ⤑ word count: 6.2k
a/n: My hand slipped >:) but seriously, this was so much fun to write and is the first of four horror themed stories I’m posting this month for Halloween! Stay tuned for the other three which star other members of NCT, Seventeen, and BTS. Thank you for reading, and I hope you like it!
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You sighed leaning back in your chair and stared up at the ceiling. ‘There they go again,’ you thought bitterly. Your neighbors could be heard, yelling. What they were yelling, you weren’t sure. Their words were muffled but they were shouting something and it was starting to get on your nerves.
You have three reports due for work in the morning and you were only halfway done with the second. You needed to finish these if you even hoped to be eligible for the end of the year promotion. You wanted that promotion, you needed that promotion.
You strained your ears as the yelling died down and you closed your eyes, silently thanking them for shutting up. You leaned forward, raising your hands above your keyboard once more to type. Just as you started, a loud chanting started up again and you groaned.
“That’s it,” you said as you pushed your chair back and got up, walking over to the wall and picking up a shoe. You banged on the wall several times before yelling. “Shut the fuck up!!”
It fell silent on the other side. ‘Now stay quiet!’
You sat back down and started typing again. A low rumble in the distance caught your attention and you looked out the window next to your desk to see rain pelting the window. A sense of calm washed over you as the rain fell and you got back to your work, not a peep from next door.
As you finished the final report, there was a shout next door, followed by a flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder which made you jump. You looked outside, noticing the flashes in the distance. ‘I thought it was closer than that,’ you thought.
You saved your work, sending the emails to your supervisor who after receiving the reports, hopefully wouldn’t be your supervisor anymore. You shut down your computer and got up, stretching as you did. It was getting late and you needed to get some rest before work in the morning.
You got changed, getting ready for bed before cleaning up the apartment. Once you slid under the covers for the night, it was well past midnight. You closed your eyes, letting your exhaustion wash over you as you drifted off into slumber.
A loud crack of thunder woke you with a start and you sat up, gasping. You rubbed your eyes wondering what that dream you just had was, nearly forgetting all of it the moment you awoke. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ you told yourself and reached for the bottle of water you kept on your nightstand.
Rain pelted your window as you gulped down the cool water and replaced the cap, setting the bottle back on the side table. You were starting to lie back down when something caught your eye. A figure.
You stared at the dark spot in your room. ‘There’s no way,’ you told yourself. ‘It’s just the dark playing tricks on me.’ You bolted upright when a flash of lightning illuminated your room, revealing the dark shadow was not a trick at all. It was a man.
You stared dumbfounded at the spot that was once again thrown into darkness before scrambling for the lamp on your night stand, hoping once you shone light upon the situation, you would be wrong and it was just your mind playing tricks on you.
Once the light was on, however, you found it was not your imagination but instead very real.
There was a man in your room and he was watching you with an amused expression on his face, his lips pulled into a lopsided grin. You continued to stare at him, hundreds of questions racing through your mind which was no longer groggy from sleep.
‘How did he get in here?’ ‘Who is he?’ ‘What does he want?’ ‘Why is he staring at me?’ ‘Why doesn’t he say something?’ ‘Should I call the cops?’
All of those were excellent questions, none of which you knew the answers to.
After a few more moments of silence, the man finally spoke.
“You know it’s rude to stare,” he said in a deep voice, sending chills down your spine.
You gasped, now completely acknowledging his existence.
“What do you want?” you whispered. The man just smiles at you. You didn’t like it. His smile. ‘Something is off.’
He didn’t answer you.
“What do you want?” you asked a little louder. The man chuckled, crossing his arms as he leans against your bedroom wall. “You summoned me, remember? I should be asking you what you want,” he said.
You shook your head slowly. “Summoned? I didn’t summon anyone,” you said defiantly. “I was asleep,” you added. The man nodded his head. “You summoned me earlier, Emma,” he said. ‘Emma? Isn’t that my neighbor’s name?’ you wondered.
“You must be mistaken,” you replied. “My name isn’t Emma.” It was the man’s turn to stare at you in disbelief. “You aren’t?” he asked, shocked. You nodded your head. “My name is (Y/N). Emma is my next door neighbor,” you replied. The man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh damn it all to hell,” he hissed.
“Your neighbor and her friend summoned me.” You were intrigued.
“Who are you?” you asked again. “I’m a demon,” the man said, lowering his hands and shoving them into his pants pockets. ‘A demon? Yeah right.’
“Sure you are,” you said, rolling your eyes. The man’s smile dropped and he glared at you. The light next to you flickered and you looked at the lamp. ‘Don’t you dare turn off!’ The room started to shake and you looked around, noticing the man’s eyes had now gone completely black and for the briefest moment, his appearance changed before shifting back to what you saw before.
In that split second, he appeared as a much taller figure, human looking but with the lower body of what appeared as a goat with black hair, complete with hooves. His torso was covered in weird symbols that glowed red. Horns had sprouted from his inky black hair and fangs grew from his canines.
And just as quickly as he had changed, he was back to normal. Your heart pounded in your chest. ‘He wasn’t lying! He really is a demon!’ your mind screamed at you, telling you to run away but even if your legs worked and you could run away, he was right by the door. You wouldn’t get very far.
“So, what kind of demon are you?” you asked and the man perked up, his smile back.
“Do you really want to know?” he asked and you nodded slowly. “I’m a demon, and like most demons, I can be summoned to make deals,” he explained, shifting his weight. “But instead of requiring a soul in return for the deal, I require something else,” he said. You tilted your head, watching him. “Like what?” you asked.
“Energy,” he replied. “Energy?” you repeated and he nodded. “Yes. Energy,” he said. “Well, what kind of energy?” you asked again, regretting the moment the answer left his lips. “Sexual energy.”
‘Sexual energy? He has sex with them? Is that why Emma and her friend summoned him?!’ The man must have noticed the look on your face change as your thoughts raced. He chuckled, drawing your attention. You composed yourself before responding. “Then shouldn’t you had over to Emma’s apartment?” you asked.
The man shook his head. “It’s not as simple as that,” he replied. Demons can’t just enter any residence we please. We have to be invited in,” he said. You stared at him in disbelief. “Then how did you end up in my apartment,” you asked. “I certainly didn’t invite you,” you added. The man shook his head.
“I don’t know. This kind of thing doesn’t happen a lot. I must have gotten confused and showed up here by mistake,” he said. “Then leave?” you asked and he shook his head. “I can’t leave empty handed,” he said. “I came here to make a deal and those are the rules. I have to leave with something,” he said and you suddenly found yourself nervous and very afraid.
“Is there perhaps something you want?” he asked and your eyes snapped up to meet his, no longer black but a soft brown instead. ‘Was this some kind of trick?’ you asked yourself. You shook your head no. “No, nothing,” you replied. He cocked his head to the side, smirking at you.
“Nothing at all, (Y/N)?” he repeated. “Money? Fame?” You shook your head vigorously. You just wanted him to leave so you could go back to sleep. “Not even…” the man said, watching you with his scorching gaze.
“A promotion?” he whispered and your heart rattled against your ribcage. ‘Fuck! How did he know?’
The man smiled like he just won the biggest prize. “Looks like there is something we want,” he said as he crossed the room to sit on the edge of your bed. “I can make that promotion happen, (Y/N),” he whispered, watching you closely. ‘No. Not like this.’ You shook your head. “I’ve almost already got it. I don’t need to make a deal. I don’t want whatever strings that come with that, no thank you,” you said quickly.
The man shook his head. “No strings, I promise. I don’t make deals like that. I’m not one of those demons,” he said. You hesitated. ‘No strings? No funny business? Just sex and then I get a promotion?’ you thought. 
“Sounds too good to be true,” you said and the man smiled. “I know it does but hear me out. I give you a promotion, hassle free, and you get some amazing sex. It’s kind of a win-win situation for you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as your mind reeled.
“I won’t get pregnant with some hybrid demon baby, right?” you asked and he burst into laughter. “Definitely not. Only Boss Man can do that,” he replies. You gave him a quizzical look. “Boss Man?” you asked. His smile widened. “You know. Old Lucy? Lucifer? Your kind sometimes calls him Satan,” he said. ‘Holy shit.’
You sat there for a few more minutes before he cleared his throat. “So, do we have a deal?” he asked and you looked up, locking eyes with him. “Will you stay in that form?” you asked and he nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to scare you off,” he said with a chuckle.
You stared at him a bit longer before shrugging. “Oh what the hell,” you said and he cracked a wide toothy grin. “Shake on it,” he said holding his hand out. You hesitated, looking at his hand. ‘Is this a good idea?’ you wondered but immediately reached out, taking his hand and shook it once.
“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said, still holding your hand. “Nice to meet you, Johnny,” you said, baffled by the situation at hand. You were introducing yourself to a demon you were about to have sex with for a promotion at your job. ‘Could things get any weirder?’
“The pleasure is mine, (Y/N),” he said before pulling his hand away and standing up. He removed his jacket, throwing it on the chair in the corner as the storm picked back up outside, wind whipping the rain around. You watched as he loosen the tie around his neck and took the opportunity to let your eyes wander.
You noticed his height of course, but what you hadn’t noticed, probably because of the jacket, was his broad shoulders and small waist. He had strong muscular thighs hidden beneath tight black ripped jeans. He wore a black button down shirt, tucked into his pants with a black tie and following the color scheme, he wore black combat boots. 
You watched as he tossed the tie on top of his jacket and sat back down to remove his boots, setting those aside. He undid a couple buttons on his shirt before turning to you, his stare causing you to blush. Are you going to just sit there and watch me?” he asked. You looked down at your sheets, avoiding his gaze. You heard him chuckle and felt the bed dip as he climbed onto your mattress.
‘What the fuck am I doing?’ you asked yourself as he approached you, one of his hands gently taking your chin and tilting your head back to look up at him. He gave you a wickedly sweet smile, one that had your head spinning. 
His close proximity and commanding aura, mixed with the scent of whatever cologne he might be wearing had your body heating up as your heart raced. ‘What the hell?’
Johnny moved his hand, smoothing it down the front of your throat, stopping at your chest, palm pressed flat before he slowly pushed you back into your pillows. Your wide eyes watched as he pulled back your covers, revealing your pajamas. A plain tee shirt and rather short shorts.
His smile grew as his eyes traveled down your body. Nudging your thighs apart, he moved between your legs, settling himself there as his hands, unsurprisingly cool, slid up your thighs slowly, sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to rise.
You let out a shaky breath as he leaned in closer and closer until his lips were mere inches from yours.
“You do know once started, I will not stop,” he whispered. “You made a deal,” he reminded you.
With a nod of your head, you acknowledge that you had made your bed, metaphorically speaking. Johnny smiled even wider, his eyes dipping to your lips and back up before closing the distance between you and pressing his lips against yours.
The moment his lips met yours, something inside you flipped and a growing desire settled in your belly, warmth spreading throughout your body as his lips moved against yours, parting slightly. 
You felt his tongue dart past your lips, exploring thoroughly. His hands didn’t stop wandering, one gripped your hip firmly while the other toyed with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath.
Your body squirmed involuntarily at his cold hand tickling up your stomach. You moaned against his lips as his hand cupped your breast and he smiled into the kiss. “Ooh, I like that,” Johnny said, referring to the sound you made. He withdrew his hand from your shirt, pulling you up to discard your top and looking down to admire.
You felt exposed, watching the way he eyed you before he pushed you back down, laying on top of you, careful not to crush you with his full weight. Pressing light kisses down your neck and collar, he stopped at your chest, glancing up at you through his lashes before taking one of your pert nipples into his mouth.
One of your hands moved, fingers threading through his hair, back arching. "Oh fuck," you moaned. Johnny smirked, moving his hand from your hip, snaking between the two of you to slip under the waistband of your shorts.
You let out a gasp as his fingers slowly stroked you through your panties, pressing the material into your growing wetness. "So wet already?" he whispered. "I've barely even started, baby." You let out a whine at his words.
"What is it?" he teased. "Please," you breathed, your body feeling feverish as you looked up at him. "Please touch me," you said, throwing all shame out the window. Johnny smirked.
"I am touching you," he said. "Please, don't tease me," you whispered. Johnny's smirk grew as his fingers pushed your panties out of the way, fingers finding your folds slick with your arousal and pushed past them, toying with your entrance.
He seemed to hesitate but as you were about to ask what the matter was, his fingers slid inside you unrestricted. You let out a low moan, gasping when you felt him curl his fingers inside against your walls.
Johnny chuckled as he watched your face with fascination. "You humans are so predictable," he whispered. You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but all you could muster was a whimper as he pressed his thumb against your clit, massaging in small fast circles as his fingers worked inside you.
"I bet I could make you come so fast just by doing this," he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. "Would you like that, baby?" he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine again. He chuckled darkly. "You don't even have to answer me."
He pressed his thumb harder against your clit, massaging faster as his fingers curled faster inside, bringing you closer to your orgasm. Your hand that wasn't in his hair gripped your bed linens beneath you, your breath coming out in short gasps.
Your body started to shake as your orgasm kept building, heat gathering in your abdomen until you reached your breaking point and came with a cry, your walls convulsing around Johnny's fingers as the heat in your stomach exploded, spreading to the other parts of your body.
Johnny smiled, his lips brushing against your neck as he pulled his head back to look at you. "That was easy," he mused but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Not when you were so high up on cloud nine.
Johnny withdrew his fingers from your core, leaving you feeling empty. You tried to open your eyes but you were too tired. You felt Johnny get up, taking the warmth of his body with him. 
Forcing your eyes open, you saw Johnny had removed your shorts and panties and repositioned himself, his head now between your thighs. "Wait," you breathed, wanting to ask for a reprieve but he ignored your pleas, instead pushing your thighs apart, his tongue licking up your sex that was coated in your own climax. 
He didn't seem to mind as he continued, his tongue finding your clit briefly, pulling away after a moment to kiss the inside of your thigh. You glanced down at him, propping yourself up to get a better look. He was placing light kisses on your inner thigh, his tongue running over the soft flesh before he sank his teeth in.
You let out a moan as he latched on, only pulling away when he was satisfied with the mark he left behind. He continued this all over the inside of your thigh before moving to the other thigh, leaving plenty of bite marks, proving he had been there.
"Johnny," you whispered, drawing his attention. "Hmm?" he hummed in response. "I need you," you breathed, heart pounding, sending blood rushing through your body. A blush settled on your cheeks and the demon between your legs couldn't help but smile.
He loved the reactions of human women when they became weak for him. He chose his path well. "You need me, huh?" he asked, lips twitching into a mischievous smirk. You nodded, having already have thrown all shame out. "Yes," you replied.
Johnny shook his head. "Not yet," he said, moving his face closer to your dripping pussy. "I'm not done here," he added, licking you again, the tip of his tongue finding your clit quickly and mercilessly began teasing and toying with it. 
Your body threatened to thrash against the sheets, thighs wanting to close but he held you down with incredible strength, keeping your thighs apart easily as he continued his assault.
It didn't take long for you to see stars as your second orgasms.washed over you thanks to his expert tongue. He didn't stop there and soon your third high washed over you, your body twitching as you tried to shy away, your core wrought with sensitivity.
"Please!" you whimpered. "I can't!" Johnny finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "You can't?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "You're already spent?" he asked. You hesitated to answer. If you said yes would he leave? You didn't want him to leave.
You watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, eyes never leaving yours. Once undone, he pulled it off and threw it aside. Your eyes wandered taking in his toned torso before you realized he was reaching for his pants, unzipping them.
He smiled at you watching his every move. "Like what you see?" he asked, causing the blush on your cheeks to deepen. Johnny held back a chuckle as he finished undoing his pants and pushed them, along with his underwear down, discarding them quickly.
You tried not to stare but you couldn't help yourself. Your eyes went straight to his hard cock, taking in the sight of it standing before you. He was much bigger than you had anticipated  although, you hadn't really given it too much thought as your mind had been a little too preoccupied earlier.
"Are you just going to stare?" he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You sat up slowly, watching him as you moved. He said nothing as you moved closer, eyeing him. Your hand reached out apprehensively, until your fingers brushed against him.
His cock was hard and hot in your hand. He let out a soft hiss at the contact between his length and your soft hand. "Can I ask you something?" you whispered, glancing up at him. He nodded, watching you curiously, wondering what you were thinking. 
"Please be gentle with me," you said softly. "Don't hurt me." Something inside Johnny found this newfound fear kind of endearing but he nodded. "My goal isn't to scare you, (Y/N)," he said reassuringly. "It's to make you feel good," he added as he guided you back to the middle of your mattress, pushing you back against the sheets.
He knelt between your thighs, the tip of his cock barely brushing against your entrance. "You have nothing to worry about," he repeated, rubbing your thigh gently, taking his girth in his other hand and guiding himself, aligning with your slit.
"I promise I won't hurt you," he repeated, locking eyes with you as he pushed past your folds. The tip of his cock slid into you easily but your body visibly stiffened and Johnny halted. "If you don't relax," he said softly, his hand in your thigh caressing it gently. "This'll hurt a lot."
You took a few calming breaths, trying to force your muscles to relax.
Once he was satisfied you had calmed down enough, Johnny continued, pushing further into you. You let out a moan as he slid unrestricted into your core, the girth of his cock stretching you slightly as he filled you in a way you'd never experienced.
Johnny’s eyes were on your face as he slid in, inch by inch. Humans, predictable as they were, he still found them to be beautiful in a way, especially the women. He didn’t have a preference. He found himself to be enamored in their bodies. Demon’s may appear to be similar to humans but they were very different.
Human’s were soft, fragile, and forgiving. They were easy to manipulate. Johnny however could never bring himself to manipulate the women. Men he had no issue with, but women? They were something else to him. He thoroughly enjoyed every sexual encounter he had with human women. He loved it.
His eyes trailed down your body as thoughts filled his mind. “Beautiful,” he breathed, just barely loud enough for you to hear. “You’re so beautiful.” You weren’t sure if he actually said that or if your mind was playing tricks on you. His hand that wasn’t holding your thigh, reached out to press against your stomach, sliding down toward your heat, stopping just past your navel.
He pressed down as he slid into you, earning a whimper from you. “You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he said a little louder, you eyes meeting his. He was a demon, complimenting your body, calling you beautiful. ‘Was this normal? What even is normal? I’m having sex with a demon, I don’t know what normal is anymore,’ you told yourself.
"Shit," you cursed as he bottomed out, his length buried completely inside you. It took only a moment for you to adjust fully before Johnny began moving, slowly at first. He pulled out only a bit before pushing back into you, testing the waters and how far he could go.
He pulled back and snapped his hips forward, earning a moan from you. He watched you as he continued, thrusting slowly and shallowly into you, and is lips parted slightly. He liked the way you threw your head back with each thrust, eyes shut as you enjoyed the feeling of his throbbing cock inside you.
He liked the way your breasts bounced with each thrust that slowly grew with intensity as he himself felt his own orgasm building inside. He liked the way your cheeks were dusted with that pinkish red hue. Blushing, humans called it. And he especially liked how your teeth sank into your plush bottom lip slightly, except it held back all sound.
He couldn't have that.
Johnny's hands moved, taking your hips as he started thrusting faster, hitting deeper into you. "Oh fuck," you hissed, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as he pounded into you. He let out a soft chuckle, your eyes meeting his. “You take me so well,” he whispered, causing you to blush deeper and advert your eyes.
Johnny laughed, turning into a soft groan as your walls clenched around him slightly.
"You humans are so small, fragile, tight," Johnny said in a low voice with a slight growl to it that had your walls clenching around him. You let out a whine, your breaths coming out in short pants.
The only sounds in the room were sound of skin against skin and your shallow breathing mixed with a few whimpers and moans, intermittently. Your fourth orgasm was approaching quickly and before you could alert Johnny, you came with a cry, your walls tightening.
Johnny continued on, seemingly unaffected by your fourth climax of the night. Instead, he moved to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you up as he laid back on the mattress. "Ride me," he said.
Despite having come four times already, you found a sense of urgency and renewed strength and complied, rolling your hips against his quickly, moaning as his shaft rubbed against your sweet spot with every movement. Johnny's now free hands traveled your body.
He slid his hands up your thighs to your hips, continuing up your torso until they reached your breasts. He cupped them, squeezing gently. He sat up quickly, startling you but your hips only faltered for a moment. His lips wrapped around one of your sensitive nipples, tongue flicking against it as he sucked.
Your hands moved from his shoulders into his hair, tugging slightly as you started lifting your hips, slamming back down on him, your moans bouncing off the walls. Johnny released your chest, his lips traveling up the side of your neck until they reached your ear.
"Keep riding me like that and I'll bend you over this bed and fuck you like the dirty slut you are," he growled and your legs grew weak, unable to keep up with your rhythm. Johnny chuckled, nipping at your earlobe. "Damn," he said softly. "I really wanted to bend you over," he teased. You hummed in response, pressing your chest against his.
"Do it," you egged him on. "Do what?" he asked. "Bend me over the bed," you whispered. "Make me you little slut." Johnny didn't need to be told twice, he pushed you off him, slipping out of you. In a flash he was on his feet next to the bed. You felt him grab your ankle and grad you across the sheets until your legs dangled over the edge of your bed, ass on full display for him.
He let out a growl, his hand coming into contact with your ass, a sharp sting rippling through your body. You buried your face into the sheets and moaned into the bed. Johnny wasted no time, lining his cock with your entrance once more and pushed into you easily.
You moaned again as he thrusted into you from behind, hard. His hands held your hips in place as he rammed into you from behind. You bit into your sheets to keep from screaming in pleasure but Johnny wouldn't let you off so easily. He leaned over your back, his chest pressed into you from behind as he thrust deeply into you.
"Don't muffle your moans, baby. I want the whole building to hear you. I want them all to know how good I fuck you.” You whined at his words, fingers tightening around the handfuls of sheets you held. “I want them to know how well to take my cock and what a needy little girl you are." You opened your mouth, letting out the loudest moan of the night. Johnny smirked standing up straight. "That's better."
He was relentless, slamming into you. Your moans turned into cries and before long, you were screaming, his name rolling off your tongue like a mantra. He loved every second of it. He loved bending people to his will. It was intoxicating to him. The power he had.
You reached your fifth ordeal soon and clung to the sheets for dear life as you raced toward your sixth. You blacked out after a wave of pleasure rocked your body, wondering how much longer you'd have to endure this. You couldn't keep up with him. He had too much stamina.
You came to just before your seventh orgasm and he showed no sign of strolling anytime soon. "How much longer can you keep going?" you asked, tears rolling down your cheeks from the immense pleasure coursing through your body. Johnny chuckled breathlessly as he fucked you against the mattress. 
"I can go on all night, baby," he said, one of his hands moving to grab the back of your neck, slowing his pace into a languid and deep roll. “Especially when you take me so well,” he added. “I don’t think anyone has been this good.” Your chest swelled with pride at his words. “Am I the best?” you whispered and he nodded before adding “yes, you are babe.” His aim was true as his cock hit you in all the right places.
Your eyes rolled back slightly as you let out a deep moan from the back of your throat. Your arousal coated the inside of your thighs and had dripped down onto your bedsheets, also stained with your cum that was seeping out of you.
"I'm so tired," you cried, tears still spilling. Johnny smiled as he continued to roll his hips, angling his thrusts against your sweet spot. "At least you don't have to move," he teased before picking up the pace and thrusting into you again. With each thrust, you let out a muffled cry, your tear stained face buried in the sheets again.
You felt his fingers curl into the hair at the base of you neck and he pulled your head up from the sheets. "I told you I want everyone to hear you," he growled, slamming into you. A cry left your lips as you gripped the sheets desperately.
Johnny could feel he was reaching his own climax but he was determined to make you come one last time before he came. 
His hand in your hair moves around to wrap around your throat, gently pressing the sides of your neck. You let out a gasp, one hand moving to grab his wrist, not to pull his hand away, just to hold on.
He pounded into you, his primal instinct kicking in. You were at his mercy, whimpers leaving your lips, only to be met by his growls. It was like an animal had taken over. Your only choice was to ride it out. 
His thrusts grew sloppy and less well aimed as he sprinted toward the finish line, taking you with him. You listened as his pants turned into groans which became moans as he approached his own orgasm.
With one final thrust, he came undone, spilling his seed inside you, painting your walls in searing hot white. The stretch of him filling you with his release pushed you over the edge of your eighth and final orgasm and you cried out in ecstasy, white blinding your vision.
Your body slumped against your stained sheets as Johnny's hips faltered, coming to a stop, his cock still buried deep inside you. Your body twitched slightly, feeling his cum spill out of you and drip down the side of your bed. A right mess had been made.
With a hiss, Johnny pulled out of you, watching as more cum spilled out of you, some landing on the hardwood floor. He took several deep breaths to.steady himself before he disappeared into your bathroom, cleaning himself off. He returned, finding you in the same position. 
He pulled his clothes back on silently before disappearing into your bathroom again. He came back with a wet cloth and despite his better judgement, helped clean you off. It was his fault you were so tired. He did go just a tad bit too rough on you, he knew that. 'Oops.'
You felt a warm wet cloth brush against the inside of your thighs and then against your core, cleaning you off and removing any remnants of cum or your own arousal. Johnny let out a soft chuckle as he gently picked you up, setting you down on the clean side of your bed.
"Why being so nice?" you asked, your voice hoarse. "Because, I may he a demon, but I'm not a monster," he replied softly, pulling the sheets up over you. He leaned down, his lips inches from your ear. "Congratulations on your promotion," he whispered.
You awoke with a start, sitting up, your eyes adjusting to your surroundings. The sun had just started to rise, turning the sky a pretty periwinkle. You look around, your eyes landing on your alarm clock. The time read 5:43 am. You let out a sigh. 'It must have been a dream,' you thought as you pulled back your sheets.
You got up, your legs a bit wobbly and your thighs rather achy and sore but made your way into.your bathroom. You turned on the shower and discarded your pajamas, stepping into the glass walled room, the tile cool against your feet as the scorching hot water soothed your aching muscles and woke you up. 
After washing and getting out, you wrapped yourself in a fuzzy robe.and headed into the kitchen. You were greeted by the smell of your automatic coffee maker, smiling as the aroma filled your senses. Despite your weird dream and unusually aching muscles, you felt like today was going to be a good day.
You got ready for work, getting dressed and walking out the door with a bounce in your step. The elevator arrived to your floor promptly and you headed down for the lobby of your building, calling out a cheerful good morning to the overnight security guard.
You made your daily commute to work, arriving with ample time to spare, a rare occurrence. You clocked in your time, put your things at your desk and decided to drop by your supervisor's office, to make sure he got your late night email.
"Ah! (Y/N)," he said with a smile. "Just the person I wanted to see," he added, motioning for you to come in. You shut the door behind you and took a seat across from him. "I got your email last night. Excellent work on those reports," he said. "Top notch," he added.
"I've been noticing your drive and determination to get things done around here," he said, looking at you with a bright smile. "And so have the higher ups," he added. Your heart swelled in your chest. 'Wait, is this it?' you thought. 'Am I getting promoted?!'
"I want to be the first to congratulate you on moving up, (Y/N)," he said excitedly. "You and I will be working together to ensure our teams work hard to make this place a better work environment. With your hard work ethic, brilliant ideas, and fresh views, we're going to accomplish so much," he said standing and holding out his hand.
You stood and took it, shaking it. Something about the scenario felt very familiar as a sense of deja vu washed over you. Your supervisor seemed unfazed as he smiled widely at you, opening his mouth to speak, uttering a familiar phrase that sent chills up your spine.
Words that brought back memories of the night before. Your stomach churned as you remembered the demon you went to bed with and how you had made a deal. 'It wasn't my hard work,' you thought bitterly. 'It was him.' Visions of a certain smile clouded your mind.
The feeling of his weight on top of you. How he thrusted into you with such intensity and how he brought you to your knees so easily and made you bed for him. How desperate he made you. How… animalistic he behaved. Your stomach churned again, beating your supervisor utter the same words Johnny had said in parting to you.
"Congratulations on your promotion."
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chocolvte · 2 years ago
nct imagine: what jung jaehyun would be like as a boyfriend
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listen to face by kim woosung
author’s note — everyone always talks about jaehyun like he’s such a player but i’ve always seen him as a boy next door, so here is boy-next-door boyfriend jaehyun <3
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「 headcanons 」
sometimes it seems like everyone thinks of jaehyun as some aloof heartthrob who will play with your heart and then drop you
i don’t get it
this boy is literally the sweetest???
he definitely knows he’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but he’s also such a… boy next door™
he doesn’t let people in easily and he tries his best to keep his personal life private, but he cares so deeply for the people he loves
he just wants to sing and go on tour with his best friends and eat good food and just?? this baby is so cute?? i’m luv
there are two things this boy loves most in the world: singing and you
i feel like he sings all the time around the house
he sings you to sleep, he sings while he’s making breakfast in the morning, he sings to you when you’re sad
just,, your house is never quiet
he loves you so much, even if he doesn’t always say it
everyone sees his heart eyes for you (except you dummy!) and how much he cares for you even in the little ways
he makes you food whenever you ask, ties your shoes for you when they come undone, carries you if you’ve been walking for too long
his love language is acts of service, for sure
he knows how to tell you how he feels when it counts, but he isn’t usually the type to be overwhelmed with gushy feelings
he just finds comfort in you and your presence beside him, especially when his life gets really chaotic
his lap is your seat, always, no matter how many open places there are around him (even the boys have stopped teasing you about it and come to accept it as ordinary)
jaehyun is protective of you in small ways: holding your hand as you cross the street, carrying heavy things for you, walking you home when it’s dark outside
most of jaehyun’s love is in the little things, easy to miss if you’re not paying attention, but they never fail to make you feel special and cared for
「 soft moments 」
lunch at han river — “jaehyun! put me down!” you giggled, colors swirling around you as jaehyun spun you around. he stopped moving at your request, but he kept you over his shoulder as he walked back towards the bench where you had been eating lunch.
sometimes, when your lunch breaks coincided, you ate together at han river (like today) or one of the other small cafés the other boys recommended to you.
jaehyun finally set you down, very carefully, onto the bench, before collapsing onto the seat next to yours.
“here, baby, your hair is all messed up,” he smiled at you playfully, reaching over to fix it for you. you smacked his hands away.
“no, go away,” you turned your nose up at him, deciding in the moment to be mad at him. “i’ll fix it myself.”
“aww, is my baby upset?” jaehyun teased you, tilting his head sideways to make you look at him. he bit back a smile at your pout, popping one of your grapes into his mouth.
“that was mine, you thief!” you protested, unable to hold back your smile. “first you kidnap me, and now you’re taking my food. what have i ever done to you?”
“kidnapping?” jaehyun repeated, grin only growing as he tugged you onto his lap, this time going for your sides as he tickled a laugh out of you.
“yes!” you gasped for breath, holding onto both of jaehyun’s hands to keep them away from you. “you stole my grapes and you stole me.”
“you can’t steal something that already belongs to you,” jaehyun teased, pressing a kiss to your lips.
you laughed, pushing yourself off of jaehyun’s lap and preparing for him to chase you as you reminded him, “those grapes weren’t yours!”
coming home from tour — jaehyun had been traveling for over thirty hours before he was finally home, stumbling through the front door half asleep. it didn’t matter how tired he was, all he wanted was to see you.
your apartment was exactly the way he remembered, from the pretty gray cat curled up on the sofa, blinking her big green eyes up at jaehyun in a drowsy hello, to your big yellow mug overturned on your dish rack, drying.
it was the smell that made jaehyun tear up a little bit, a mixture of coffee and the dulce de leche candles scattered around your apartment. for the first time since they landed it hit him that he was home, really home, for the first time in months.
you were asleep when he entered the bedroom, despite your endless promises that you would stay awake for him, but jaehyun wasn’t upset. it was nearly four in the morning; he would have been more angry if you were awake.
he left his luggage next to the dresser, he could unpack tomorrow. for now all he wanted was a shower and to sleep until the afternoon.
when he entered the bathroom he found a pair of sweats, washed and neatly folded, waiting for him on the counter and was suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of love for you. slipping into them, his hair still damp from his shower, felt more comforting than he expected and he bit his lip, torn between wanting to press kisses all over your face and worrying about waking you up.
as it turns out, it didn’t matter, because you woke up almost as soon as he slipped into bed behind you. turning to face him, you snuggled into his chest, murmuring, “you’re home,” with your eyes still closed.
the sound of your sleepy voice, the smell of your strawberry conditioner, feeling you pressed up against him for the first time in months made the tears jaehyun had been holding back finally fall. he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head very softly.
“hi, baby.”
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jeongvision · 9 months ago
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[ 4:33 PM ] ➞ [ 10:38 PM ] ➞ [ 6:21 PM ] ➞ [ 9:04 AM ]
pairing. boyfriend! jeong jaehyun ✗ fem! reader
genre. smut, established relationship au
warnings. sexual themes (marking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, corruption kink?), some religious analogies
author’s note. this is now a mini-series and once again inspired by a meme i saw on facebook lmao
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You gasp loudly as his tongue continues to play with your swollen nub, sending your mind into overdrive. You shudder from his touch, overwhelmed with euphoria, your fingers interwoven through his rosy locks.
“W-What are you d-doing?”
He hums against your skin, sending vibrations to your core. You just had an orgasm from Jaehyun’s mouth, and yet he still continues to tease you with his tongue, making you squirm underneath him from the overstimulation.
He grins at your reaction. He loves how affected you are by him. In fact, he lives off of it. Watching you writhe under him as he ate you out, gasps and moans being expelled from your pretty little mouth, sweat droplets adorned on top of your beautiful skin— you were a living masterpiece to him, his favorite one. His pretty little angel.
He licks a long stripe up on your slit and you shakily gasp.
“What do you mean?” he inquires, feigning naivety. He pushes himself up. The only source of light luminating his bedroom is the lamp on the nightstand, and yet you could still see the glimmer on his lips and chin, all from the mess you made just now.
His tongue pokes through, licking up all the essence you oh so willingly gave to him. You tasted divine, how fitting it is coming from his angel.
You wore nothing but his dark grey t-shirt, your panties long ripped off of you from his impatience. He arrived home from his hangout a little earlier than planned, finding you in his bed laying on your stomach with your laptop opened in front of you.
Just like how you would steal his hoodies, you would also steal his shirts when it comes to sleeping over. Whether it is one of his hoodies, his sweatpants or shirts, wearing his clothes acted like a safety blanket for you.
But Jaehyun views it otherwise; he sees it as an invite to wreck you apart, to break through that graceful aura you always give off to everyone, and tempt the devil inside. Maybe he’s a little territorial, but he doesn’t care. You’re all his, and he’s all yours. He wants nothing more than to give you the pleasure you deserve. So when he saw you cladded only in his t-shirt, panties, and a pair of low-cut socks, something within shifted. Seeing you innocently minding your own business makes him want to do nothing but ruin you, his pretty little angel.
His eyes roams over your figure. His shirt is hiked up on your torso enough to reveal your delicate breasts. He left behind a generous amount of purple hues all over your upper body: your neck, your clavicle, on top of your breasts. Oh how much he loves the artwork laid out in front of him. He could drink it all up and it wouldn’t be enough - it never will be.
He leans forward over your figure, lips ghosting over your own with a smirk accessorizing his countenance. He whispers lowly right above you, “I thought you said relationships have to 50/50 for it to work?”
He moves down to your neck and with his tongue, he gently traces over his creations. You let out a whine, your breathing once again becoming irregular from all the attention he’s giving to you. “You have been so good to me, and I wanted to pay you back with all my love.”
He moves back up to your face and places a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling away. Your lips quiver a little from the loss of contact. It wasn’t enough for you, you wanted more. But instead, he rests his forehead against yours. He grins at your need for him. “Did you not say that the other day?”
He maneuvers his hands to your waist and draws slow circles on your skin, careful not to break you. “A-And just how is this-” your voice hitches in your throat as he moves away from you to leave a trail of butterfly kisses down to your navel. You can feel your core throbbing for him again. You struggled to keep your voice leveled, “H-How is this 50/50?”
He chuckles, his breath hitting your skin, “Easy.” He presses a kiss against your clit before admiring your glistening folds, your arousal shamelessly leaking out of you. And with the lowest voice possible, his words dripping with insatiable hunger for you, he answers.  
“You get to wear my clothes, and I get to eat you out while you wear them.”
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