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#nct 127 scenarios
wincore · a year ago
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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.
_jeongjaehyun:
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?”
“Yes.”
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. 
“(name)?”
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.
“Oh.”
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. 
Secrets. 
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. 
“Sour.” 
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. 
“What?”
“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- and...it 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.
“Hyung—”
“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.
“That—”
“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.
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luvdsc · a year ago
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i dare you.
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truth: do you like me? dare: prove it.
pairing :: lee donghyuck x reader genre :: angst, fluff / best friend + college au word count :: 3,176 words warnings :: none playlist :: cover up (taeyeon) ⋆ wish you were sober (conan gray) ⋆ fever dream (mxmtoon) ⋆ candy so good (the rose) ⋆ bubble gum (clairo) ⋆ can i call you tonight (dayglow) author’s note :: this is a bff2lovers support blog
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The game of truth or dare has been going on for several rounds already, and Donghyuck comfortably lounges on the couch tucked in the corner, leaning against an armrest. He lightly shakes the cup in his hand, swirling the last remnants of jungle juice around, before nimbly tossing back the rest of it. It’s a circle of sixteen or so people, and as he looks around, he can somewhat make out the faces of his closest friends. Except he’s missing one: you, his best friend ever since you handed him your red crayon after he broke his in preschool.
But now, for a little over a year, he’s been wishing that being your BF stands for more than just your designated Best Friend. Maybe, it can also include BoyFriend. But that’s just wishful thinking.
Hazy eyes flitting around the entire expanse, Donghyuck looks for the reason of his heartache and finally finds you standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and accepting a red cup from Hyunjin with a pretty smile. Who invited him? He definitely wasn’t a part of Nu Chi Theta.
The familiar green eyed monster rears its ugly head again when he notices how the distance between you and that pretty boy decreases. Grimacing slightly, he reaches forward and grabs a shot from the table, quickly swallowing all its contents.
Renjun lazily spins the bottle in the center after answering his truth from Tzuyu, and it lands on the unsuspecting Donghyuck. He notices the distracted look in his friend’s eyes, following his gaze until he sees you, and a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.
“Hyuck, it’s your turn,” Renjun announces, and Donghyuck is startled, turning to face his grinning friend. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” he replies confidently, and Renjun’s grin only widens. His friend’s gaze darts towards you and then back at him knowingly, and Donghyuck starts to feel his hands growing clammy. It seems that he was a little too obvious.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”
The dare that comes out of Renjun’s mouth has Donghyuck tensing up in his spot, sobering him up for a split second. His friend merely raises his eyebrows, challenging him, and he swallows hard before putting on an air of nonchalance. He wipes the sweat on his palms against the fabric of his jeans and grabs another one of the shots from the center of the circle, downing it before standing up. He’s not one to be nervous, especially with the amount of confidence he possesses and the amount of alcohol currently swimming through his veins, yet he is.
Jaemin and Jeno lift their heads up in interest as they watch him make his way towards you: you, who is unsuspecting and laughing at something that Hyunjin just said.
Have you always looked this gorgeous?
You are so damn stunning, throwing your head back and letting the prettiest sound Donghyuck ever heard escape from between your lips. The bright strobe lights don’t do enough justice for you, but he can see the way your eyes glimmer and the flashing of your teeth as your lips upturn into the loveliest of smiles. Yet, the blood in his veins boils because he should be the only one who makes you laugh like that, and not some other pretty boy.
He marches his way over there, swaying slightly from the beers he downed earlier, before looping his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him, placing the most delicate, softest kiss onto your lips.
Startled, you nearly drop your red cup and take a step back as you stare your best friend with wide eyes, your heart now beating faster than ever. And perhaps, it was more because of the boy in question, rather than the unexpected show of affection. “What the heck, Hyuck?”
He tugs you close again and merely nuzzles his face in your neck, wrapping himself around you even more. You turn to face him, and he lifts his head up, clouded eyes and flushed skin in full view now. His face is close, too close, and his lips are painted in the prettiest shade of rosy pink. If you move just a few millimeters forward, your lips would brush his again. Hurriedly, you toss away that silly idea as your cheeks warm up at that thought.
When did these feelings start to show up and skirt around your heart? Was it when you noticed he always added a pack of Haribo sour gummy bears for you to the shopping basket during those late night convenience store runs without you asking? Or was it when you texted him at 3 a.m. about a Pokémon you don’t have that’s nearby outside and he tells you to go to bed, but five minutes later, he’s standing outside of your dorm, knocking on your door with mussed hair and a haphazardly thrown on sweater, telling you to hurry up, so he can go back to sleep? Or maybe it’s when you realized just how happy he makes you when he laughs at your lame jokes that he would’ve made fun of Jeno for saying?
Or perhaps, it’s a culmination of all those things plus all the other tiny moments and endearing, although sometimes infuriating, attributes of his that made you fall in love with your best friend.
“You’re really pretty, y’know?” He mumbles, and your cheeks burn even more before you shake your head, noting bitterly to yourself that your best friend is completely intoxicated. Of course. He doesn’t like you in that way at all, so there’s no use in getting your hopes up. Drunken kisses are sober mistakes.
“Hyuck, you’re drunk.” You let out a sigh before wrapping an arm around his waist and throwing an apologetic glance towards Hyunjin. “Let’s get you home.”
“Let me help you,” Hyunjin offers, reaching out to take some of Donghyuck’s weight off of you. Your best friend swats his hand away from you. “Get your own Y/N. This one is taken.”
“He’s just trying to help,” you scold him, blood rushing to your cheeks at the sound of Donghyuck calling you his. He simply ignores the other boy, clinging onto you even tighter. You say good bye to Hyunjin, who kindly takes your empty cup, before tugging your best friend towards the stairs and to his bedroom upstairs.
On your way there, you catch Renjun’s attention. He smirks at you, eyes twinkling, as he glances towards Donghyuck and then back at you. Face burning, you roll your eyes before giving him the universal middle finger salute, his laughter subsequently echoing behind you.
You’re just best friends. Friends take care of each other. And so what if he kissed you? He’s naturally affectionate. And add on the fact that he’s drunk, so his affection just came out tenfold. It meant nothing.
Right?
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Something’s been bothering you for the past few days, and Donghyuck can tell as he sits across from you for lunch. You’re doing that thing where you fiddle with the small Winnie the Pooh charm on your iPhone, wrapping the string part around your finger before letting go and repeating your earlier actions. He reaches over and untangles the charm from your hand before putting your phone in front of you, his hand grazing yours for a millisecond, and your heart nearly stops at the sudden contact.
“Something’s been on your mind. Spill it.” He studies your reaction, and you know you can’t lie to your best friend. He’ll know even before the words are out of your mouth.
“Do you remember the Theta party last Friday?”
“Yeah, I kinda have to,” he snorts, resting his chin on his hand. “I had to help clean up the next day with a raging hangover.”
“Why’d you kiss me?” you ask abruptly, twisting the hair tie around your wrist a bit nervously. It’s better to just rip off the bandaid and let it out in the open after all.
Donghyuck freezes, brain short circuiting. He had hoped that you’d just chalk it up to his drunken state that night, and he could continue to ignore his feelings like he’s done for the past thirteen months, six hours, and twenty seven minutes. But he can’t. He shouldn’t. So maybe he should just say it. Tell you the reason why. After all, drunken actions are sober thoughts.
Yet, although he prides himself for being brave, for being outspoken, when it comes to his feelings, when it comes to you, he feels like a coward. At the thought of rejection, the fickle feelings of love, and all the what if’s, he thinks it’s better to remain your best friend than lose you altogether. So he racks his brain for an excuse, but all he can come up with is the half truth. 
“It was a dare.”
Your face falls before you can hide the disappointment, and it yanks at his heartstrings, leaving him to stammer out a poorly executed follow up, back tracking as fast as he can. “It wasn’t a bad dare! Renjun made me do it, and I just...”
“A dare?” you say softly before giving him a half hearted, teasing smile, desperately trying to conceal your true feelings. “Like what? To kiss your best friend? So I beat out Mark, huh?”
Your response has him pausing from blurting out the rest of the truth. You seem so calm and nonchalant about it, like the kiss has no effect on you whatsoever, an unspoken rejection. The mere thought of that almost cracks his heart in two, and he crumples the napkin in front of him, lowering his eyes.
“Uh, well... something like that.”
The two of you lapse into silence after that, a stifled awkwardness plaguing the table, before it becomes unbearable for you, and you stand up, picking up your empty plate to drop off at the cleaning station.
“I gotta go. I have class soon.”
Donghyuck murmurs a quiet good bye to you and helplessly watches as you walk away. He knows you’re lying. He memorized your schedule by heart the second you sent it to him at the beginning of the semester, and you finished all your classes for the day in the morning already.
He flattens out the balled up napkin, staring at the confession he had carefully penned down earlier before you sat down. The black scribbles stare back at him, almost as if they’re mocking him. He rips up the paper into shreds.
He wishes he was braver earlier.
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Friday night brings you back into the all too familiar atmosphere of the Nu Chi Theta house. You entered the scene later than usual, caught up earlier with a paper on sustainable technology due at midnight. You were more than content with staying in your dorm for the night, curling up in a blanket for a Brooklyn 99 marathon, but your roommate, Lia, insisted you go out with her.
When you had told her about the conflicting matter regarding a certain dark haired boy swirling around in your mind, she had frowned, calling Donghyuck a complete idiot, and her next words still echo in your head.
“That’s what the idiot said? That wasn’t the dare. Renjun dared him to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”
So why did he lie?
The butterflies in your stomach refuse to settle, whether it was from knowing you’ll see him tonight or the implications behind that kiss or possibly a combination of both. Renjun easily spots you in the crowd, and refusing to take no for an answer, he pulls you over to sit next to him and to partake in the game that started this all. Lia had simply laughed and waved you good bye before nimbly making her way into the dancing crowd.
Your eyes easily finds Donghyuck’s across from you, and his eyes widen in surprise. You haven’t seen him since the lunch incident, and you should’ve known that you’d see him tonight. He’s a member of this fraternity after all. You give him a small smile, and maybe it’s the alcohol running through his veins, but you could have sworn his cheeks turned a darker shade of red under the harsh neon lights. He looks away, and it stings a lot more than it should. Biting your bottom lip, you focus your gaze on the bottle in the center.
Jaemin reaches for the glass and gives it a twirl. The bottle neck ends up pointing just left of Donghyuck towards Yerim, and you notice Jeno not so subtly kick the table. The bottle rolls slightly before facing your best friend.
“Oh, would you look at that! Hyuck, truth or dare?” Jaemin exclaims, grinning a little too brightly.
“Jeno did that on purpose,” Donghyuck grumbles, throwing a stink eye at the aforementioned boy who merely offers him an innocent smile. “Dare.”
Renjun leans over towards Jaemin, whispering something to him, and he only brightens up even more. There’s that sinking feeling in your stomach, and you know they’re up to no good. Looking around the room, you catch the eyes of Hyunjin, who waves at you happily with a broad smile. Maybe you’ll feel better if you hang out with someone else for a change and take your mind and heart off of the boy in front of you.
Donghyuck’s eyes darken when he notices your attention directed at Hyunjin. He almost scoffs. Again, who invited him? And what’s Hyunjin got that he doesn’t? Okay, so maybe that pretty boy is a few centimeters taller than him, but Donghyuck is still prettier, wittier, funnier, and smarter, right?
Does Hyunjin know the exact number of miniature marshmallows that you like in your hot chocolate? Does he know that you have a tiny star shaped scar on your knee because you fell off your bike in first grade, and Donghyuck was the one who put a dinosaur patterned bandage on it? Does he know that when you’re happy, you like to play Avril Lavigne’s Sk8er Boi on blast and belt out the lyrics? Does he know when you think a joke is really funny, you let out the smallest snort at the end of your laugh which you try to cover up, but Donghyuck thinks it’s the cutest noise ever?
Does Hyunjin know how much he loves you?
“Hyuck,” Jaemin pokes him. “Are you listening?”
“No,” he deadpans, and Jaemin sighs. Your attention is on Donghyuck now, head tilted slightly as you softly smile at him, raising your eyebrow. Your expression is guarded, and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know why. But Jaemin nudges him again, and he lets out a huff before turning toward his friend, who smiles impishly before saying:
“I dare you to call your crush and confess.”
You and Donghyuck both inhale sharply at that.
Thousands of thoughts rush into your mind, yet the most prominent one is: your best friend has a crush, and he never told you. The two of you have shared your previous crushes in the past, yet he’s never mentioned this one? A shock of betrayal runs through your body as you wrack your brain to think back to any previous hints or mentioning that he liked someone. Never mind the fact that you didn’t tell him about your current crush because that would mean confessing, but if you were in love with someone else, he would definitely be the first to know.
But maybe it’s for the better, you think bitterly to yourself. It would be near impossible for you to hide your feelings any longer. Perhaps, this is the reason why he didn’t tell you about the dare. It would make everything so much more complicated.
But your stomach twists and turns at the thought of him asking someone out, kissing someone else, loving someone who isn’t you, and suddenly, you don’t want to play anymore. You mumble something about getting a drink from the kitchen to Renjun before standing up, easily brushing away his hand when he protests.
Donghyuck watches as you begin to get up, panic rising in his chest, and before he knows it, he’s scrambling to pull out his phone. All it takes is five seconds. Five seconds for you to walk away. Five seconds to lose you. Five seconds to type in that familiar string of numbers and hit send. Five seconds of courage. Five seconds to take that leap from friendship to something more.
It’s now or never, and he’s never been so sure of one thing in his life until this very moment. Heart thudding erratically in his chest, he hurriedly types in the number he’s memorized by heart—the one he secretly saved as My Sunflower 🌻—and finally presses the green button.
You pause when you hear the familiar blaring ringtone and feel the vibration in your back pocket. Immediately, your eyes land on Donghyuck, and he’s already looking at you with the softest, most endearing, most vulnerable expression on his features that wrenches your heart. Eyes glimmering, he smiles at you a little bit uncertainly before speaking up, voice wavering at the end.
“Someone’s calling you, and I think he has something really important to say, so will you please pick it up?”
With shaky hands, you take out your phone, heart nearly leaping out of your chest, as you stare at the screen, lips curving into a delighted smile that you cannot suppress.
Full Sun ☀️💘 is calling.
“Hello?”
Phone pressed to your ear, you slightly tilt your head to the side, shyly smiling, and relief is written all over his face for a split second before Donghyuck positively beams. He continues to gaze at you, pretty little stars dancing in his eyes that crinkle in the corners and the rosiest hue of red blooming on his cheeks.
“Hi. I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me. Because I kinda, sorta, maybe am completely in love with you.”
This is the boy who made fun of you for wearing glittery Mary Janes on the first day of kindergarten, but also threw sand at the other boys who decided to poke fun at you. This is the boy who saved all the blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers he got on Halloween to give to you. This is the boy who brought you tubs of New York Super Fudge Chunk when you experienced your first heartbreak and refrained from saying “I told you so” until after you finally got over that douchebag. This is the boy who made you stay up all night before a final to help him put rainbow streaks in his hair, but also helped you ace the exam. This is the boy who has the biggest heart out of everyone you know, and he’s wearing it on his sleeve for you.
This is the boy whom you love.
And he loves you back.
“I’d love that. Because I kinda, sorta, maybe am completely in love with you, too.”
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notnctu · a year ago
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through the lens ❀ l.jn
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❀ lee jeno x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, smut/mature content, fluff (romance?), slight angst ❀ details - photographer!jeno, model!reader, college!au, shy!jeno but he aint shy in bed, strangers to fuckers!au ❀ word count - 8k (this is the longest thing ive ever written) ❀ warnings - nude modeling, swearing, oral (f/receiving), some sweet love makin’ ❀ brief synopsis - jeno asks you to model for his internship project, but little did you know, it was going to be a nude photo shoot.  
❝ jeno was too shy to hold eye contact, but he stared at you endlessly through the lens. ❞
❀ a/n - hihihi this is author doie❀ ! im bad at writing smut so pls dont hate me ah ha lol i tried my best i also dont model/do professional photography so really apologize if i butcher any terms lmaoo the only thing i am is that im in college and im shy
Jeno had applied to almost a hundred internships and almost close to none returned with an offer, even after a whole month of waiting. He absolutely needed to start building his portfolio before the beginning of his senior year of college. The embarrassment of possibly graduating without any experience loomed over the desperate boy. 
Photography had been more than a hobby to him, to the point where he wanted to take it seriously. His parents weren’t the most supportive of an Arts major, but that couldn’t stop him. Jeno saw the best through a camera lens. He had a special eye for beautiful moments and the impressing urge to capture it forever. 
It was too late to change his major, if he wanted to graduate with all of his friends. If he wanted to be successful, he had to act on it now. 
The swoosh! of a new email startled the sleeping boy. He stared at the brightly lit screen, reading the words over and over again to make sure it was real. Jeno was so enthralled with excitement that he scrambled out of bed to wake up his roommate, Jaemin.
He shook him so violently that the sheets fell from Jaemin’s warm body. “Dude! I got an internship!” He spoke with incredible glee, a wide smile couldn’t leave his face.
Jaemin groaned and had to hold Jeno by the shoulders to halt the boy from causing the room to spin. “Why--What is going on?” He dazely rubbed his tired eyes to blink at his giddy roommate.
The screen blinded Jaemin as it was shoved too closely to adjust. “Whoa--,” he pushed it away and shut his eyes, “--repeat what you just said one more time.” Jaemin held a finger up and Jeno grabbed it, jumping onto his best friend’s bed.
“I got an internship. Someone got back to me.” Jaemin returned the same excitement the moment he processed his words. He shot up in bed and hugged his friend tightly. 
“Wo-w, dude! Congratulations!” The two boys hurried on their feet to cheer together. There was no concern for the rest of their housemates, only celebration that roared throughout the entire night.
+
Truthfully, Jeno had no recollection of applying to this studio. It could have been a random link on a job scouting website, but he couldn’t be more grateful. An internship was long overdue and Jeno had been itching to get some recognition for his craft. 
“Hello, I’m Lee Jeno.” He bowed slightly at the receptionist, who had a stern stare that made him feel vulnerable. The first thing he noted about the office: white and minimalistic. 
Jeno’s specialty was landscape photography. His aesthetics consisted of black and white filters, city lights, dark mood lighting, and background commotion. He enjoyed capturing chaos the most, a scene where more than one thing was happening. The only reason being that there was more to look at. 
“Nice to meet you. The name is Lee Taemin, but you can call me what you please.” A young, lean man strolled his way towards Jeno with a wide grin and his hand for him to shake. Taemin was slightly shorter than him, but his stylish, expensive boots made up for his height. He had to be only a maximum of five years older than Jeno as Taemin appeared relatively youthful. 
Taemin’s firm grip pulled Jeno along inside the studio. A small gasp escaped from Jeno which earned robust laughter from the older man. “I hope you can break out of your shell soon. There is no room for timidness around here, Mister Lee.”
“Please, you can call me Jeno.” He smiled, quite awkwardly at the beautiful man. 
The tall glass windows, the concrete, gray floor, the white doors that lined the hallway, had to be all too predictable. Jeno envisioned this is what high class must look like. It was the pristine, bright feeling and the smell of vanilla that lingered distastefully. There was chatter behind the closed doors --- mainly directing, and high praises. 
The only off-put was that photographers worked behind closed doors. From the few studios he has visited previously, photographers often worked in open spaces due to lighting fractures or the ability to roam more freely. 
“I’m actually very ecstatic you signed up for the internship, since you do seem a bit on the younger side.” Taemin gestured toward the sofa in the middle of his massive office. Jeno sat across from him. Water was already placed on the glass coffee table that separated the two. A laptop was opened to face Taemin.
Jeno slyly rubbed the condensation from his palms on his jeans. Taemin’s stare bore deep into the shy boy, who had to break eye contact from time to time. “I know.” Jeno chuckled nervously, “thank you for getting back to me. I was really hoping to gain work experience through mentorship.” 
Taemin nodded at everything Jeno was saying. His face being completely expressionless. Jeno sipped his water to regain moisture in his dry throat. Taemin was more intimidating than he was anticipating. “Sounds great. Happy to have you here. It might be a small business, but the experience is worth investing in. Every photographer who has come in and out of my building has found their forte. Let’s say, it’s eye opening.” 
“That’s exactly what I was looking for actually.” As scared as he was of this mysterious man, he really enjoyed the comfort the environment radiated. 
Taemin leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I noticed in the portfolio you sent that you don’t have any portraits or any people, in general, in your photos. Do you have any works with people? Since this is a studio of fine art nude photography.”
Nude. Jeno practically choked on the last remaining spit he gathered. Taemin acknowledged the boy’s shocked reaction and tilted his head curiously, “you did know that I specialize in contemporary fine art nude photography, right?” Unfortunately, Jeno did not. 
Jeno cleared his throat, “yes, of course. I wanted to challenge myself.” He had to lie, there was no other way to cover up his disbelief. This internship was the only hope left for him to gain something. Though, even the thought of shooting a naked body made him anxious.
He hated how timid he was. His friends and family say otherwise, mainly for the reason that Jeno automatically lit up behind a camera. In all honesty, he hid behind it. It was the only safe place that Jeno knew what he was doing. However when it came to real life situations without it, he lacked the confidence to be himself.
As ironic as it was, he hated being seen. He liked to be the background character in his own life, because the main character took too much of a toll. It could also be his deafening insecurities and lack of self esteem, but Jeno didn’t mind not being the center of attention.
“You like a challenge?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Jeno caught a glimpse of the twinkle in Taemin’s dark eyes. “Then for your first task, I want you to show me that you can take on this role.”
Jeno scrambled for his phone to jot down notes. “Send me an emotional portfolio, model of your choice. They could be a friend of yours that you feel comfortable seeing naked. It must include a variation of headshots, full body, and body details. It must also be raw and unedited photos. I want to see if you have the eye for the art to capture these types of images.”
“When would you like it by?” He stammered, completely winded at the sudden project that unloaded on top of him. 
“Next Friday, and you’ll present it to me here in person. Feel free to use this studio if you don’t have a place of your own with equipment. All you need to do is book a room with the front desk. Any other questions?” The sound of the laptop shutting caused Jeno to look up at the brilliance in front of him. He needed Taemin to help him succeed. 
“Why do you take nude photography?” 
Taemin was unable to stop the laughter that erupted into the room. “I don’t run a pimp business or sell soft core porn, if that’s why you’re staring at me so funnily. What I make is an art masterpiece, it has nothing to do with physical features or desires. It’s the pure emotion that clothing distracts from. Clothing conforms the model into an aesthetic, and while that works for editorials, it won’t be a consistent thing here.” 
Jeno nodded understandingly. Overwhelmed and lost at words. He was unsure what he had gotten himself into. Where was he going to find a model on such short notice on such lewd conditions? He was really going to need to step out of his comfortable zone, in his photography and social skills. 
Taemin stood up and extended his hand once more. “I take pride in my art, so I hope you, too, start finding that in your own.” 
+
Jaemin held his stomach from the endless laughter, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nud-Nude photography? And you didn’t know?”
“Jaemin, keep it down.” Jeno whispered and cautiously peered around at the few people flooding into the small lecture hall. “I don’t want everyone in our club to misunderstand and think I’m some creep.”
His best friend straightened up in his seat and placed his hand on Jeno's slumped shoulder, “first of all, you’re a complete idiot for not researching. Secondly, it’s an art form. If you really got yourself a shady, rated R internship, I would’ve told you to drop it instantly.” 
His spirits were slightly lifted, but he was still struggling with who he should ask to model for him. As much as he’s already seen of Jaemin, being his roommate, he honestly would rather leave the rest to imagination. Jeno wasn’t purposefully searching the room for a candidate, but he could not stop his eyes from drifting.
He spotted the most attractive side profile that sat two rows below him. He shook his head to make sure he was seeing her correctly. Peering around, he looked for another possible face to shoot. But oh god, how she caught his eye every time she even slightly moved.
You smiled happily with your friends by your side as your club’s executive board members introduced this year’s goals and events to attend. It had to be the smallest amount of alcohol still running in your system that caused you to giggle every time guys tried to turn around and hit on you.
“Why don’t you focus on our club members instead?” You smirked at the smug older boy, who had poorly attempted to grab your attention. “I think this information is important to you. These events could help you develop your social skills to be much better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but your girl friends scoffed by your side.
He got up in disbelief and quickly walked out of the room. There was a brief pause at the sudden movement, but the announcement carried on per usual.
Jeno impatiently waited for the club meeting to finally be over, so he could talk to you. The longer it dragged, the more his confidence was subsiding. “I’m heading to study, wanna come with?” Jaemin poked at Jeno’s knee.
“Yeah, but you can go ahead first. I need to talk to someone.” His voice was shaky and his throat went so dry. Jeno’s shifty eyes scanned the room, hoping no one saw how nervous he was acting.
Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted suspiciously, “who? I didn’t even know you talked to anyone who came today. Donghyuck and Renjun aren’t here---”
“--her, Jaemin... her. I’m going to ask her to model for me.” Jeno motioned his head. His heart beating faster at seeing a small grin appear on your face from a comment someone made.
Jaemin hummed, “good luck with that, bud. I’ve got two shoulders for you to cry on after.” The extra hint of sarcasm only made Jeno sweat nervously. He was seriously doubting his decision, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if he didn’t do it. He knew he’d regret it more if he didn’t just ask you. 
Once the meeting was dismissed, you wanted to get out of the room before the heavy rush into the hallways. Unfortunately, a few frat guys pulled you into their conversation and chatted up a storm. Your friends played into their foolery, but you stopped paying attention when they asked for your numbers.
There was a faint tap on your shoulder and you turned to see who the culprit was. You didn’t seem to know him, because you would’ve remembered such a demeanor. His eyes were glued to the floor behind you and his shaky hands ran through his brown locks. His shyness was quite endearing, yet alarming since you weren’t sure why exactly he had approached you.
“Yes?” You asked curiously.
The moment Jeno heard your delicate cadence, he melted like a popsicle left out in the sun. He peered up, but quickly reverted his eyes to the white tiles when he noticed how beautifully you stared at him.
He counted his breathing to calm his rapid heart beat. He cleared his throat to introduce himself, “I’m Jeno. I’m a third year Arts major, um-- I was just--- I know we don’t know each other. I wanted to ask, uh-” Jeno was horrified at how he stammered over his own words. His cheeks burned with a red glow, and if he couldn’t look you in the eye before, he definitely couldn’t now.
“Hey, see you later.” One of the bulky frat guys called and you waved back weakly. 
A guy who had been chasing you endlessly scoffed at the pitiful sight and smirked at you, “see you at my house tonight? Been missing you in my bed lately.”
“Thought you would’ve guessed the reason why I stopped coming around.” Jeno heard the sting in your remarks and the disbelief in the male. 
You honestly could have left, Jeno knew that. But you stayed and waited patiently for him to finish. Jeno could tell how strong you were just by your intimidating aura that practically suffocated him by standing in close proximity to you.
You sighed and reached to grab your jacket on the folded seat, “look, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you and all, but I gotta get going.” 
Shockingly, the shy boy reached out to stop you by your fingertips. His touch lingered before he dropped your hand quickly. “I’m sorry. Are you free this Monday?”
“Uh, that depends. If you’re asking me on a date, then I’m busy.” Rolling your eyes, you weren’t sure why you still stayed to listen to what this random stranger had to say. If it were anyone else, you would’ve walked away the moment he asked if you were free. However, you acknowledged his timidness and the courage he must have mustered up to approach you.
Jeno shook his head violently, completely in shambles from that type of misunderstanding. “Not a date. I need someone to model for my portfolio photos that my internship assigned. It’s actually very important to me because it’s the first internship that responded back to me when I had applied to so many a whole month ago. Basically, I really need this and you because I think you’d be perfect to take pictures of. Oh-- wow! That sounded very bad --- uh --- what I meant is that your facial proportions are perfect and---”
“I’m free Monday.” You cut off his endless ramble and gestured toward his phone. He handed it to you without any hesitation and you typed in your number. “Text me the time, place and what I should wear.” 
“Oh actually, it’s a nude photoshoot.” Your eyes doubled in size, completely offended by that statement.
Jeno felt the sudden shift in the air and brought his hands up to block himself, “to be more clear, it’s a contemporary fine art nude photography studio. The pictures are pieces of art and to be seen as that only. I have no intentions or ulterior motive to sleep with you, see you naked or sell, leak your nudes for the profit of your body. But, I understand if you no longer want to do it because it sounds super strange now that I am explaining it.” 
Your shoulders relaxed and the fist that formed unraveled. You exhaled deeply, “I’ll do it. We can talk more about it on Monday and I get to leave on my own accord if I don’t feel comfortable. We work on my conditions.” Picking up Jeno’s chin, he was absolutely petrified at the forced eye contact and your incredible, powerful gaze. He was mesmerized by the fire in your eyes, and if he stared any longer, he could’ve lost himself in them. 
“Of course.” With that, you dropped his face and left without another look back. Jeno looked down at his phone and the new contact name, (Y/N). It had slipped his mind to even ask what your name was and he slapped his face in utter stupidity. “Do better, Lee Jeno.” It was a remainder to himself to, hopefully, be better the next time you two speak.
+
Monday, 3:03 PM. 
Jeno paced back and forth in the brightly, lit white room. He was trying to find any blinds or curtains to cover the tall windows of the high rise building. It should not be too much of a problem, the extra lighting was a positive. Jeno was only worried for your comfort of the openness. 
There was a soft knock before Jeno practically tripped to open the door. His breath hitched at the sight of your bare face. This time, you were the vulnerable one. Jeno only saw purity, yet impressed at how your tired eyes still managed to bid him a soft smile. He admired your uneven complexion, and the sparse moles that dotted your skin. 
“Okay, so you want to see me naked now or later?” Filled with jokes, your voice was light and airy this afternoon. There was a bit of a contrast from the first time you two met. Softer, enchanting, almost ghostly. 
Everything in the room was white. The mattress on the floor had a white comforter and white sheets. The backdrop. The walls. The hardwood floor. The only color was the blue sky that the tall windows let in.
“Here’s a robe. You can change in the bathroom.” Jeno scratched the back of his neck and his eyes wandered everywhere, but your’s. 
“Would you be okay with me just taking off my clothes in here?” You saw the light tint of pink cover his face, and spread to his ears. You examined more of the shy boy’s embarrassed face, finally getting a really good look at him. Jeno was very attractive, and you could only imagine how beautiful he must look if he fully faced you.
Jeno fiddled with his camera strap, “only if you are okay with that.” Clearing his throat, he stood next to the window to give you some privacy. “I’ll go over what I plan on doing. I’m going to take photos of your face details, parts of your body, full body, and portraits. You can lay down on the bed and I’ll direct you in poses. Have you modeled before?”
He was scanning the bustling city below his feet. Cars zoomed quickly and crowds of tiny people flooded the streets. He brought his camera up to his face, not being able to resist the urge to capture such a thrilling sight. 
“If Instagram counts, then yeah. Professional model gig would be a no. Nude photography is a definite no, unless we are talking about being filmed during sex.” Jeno chuckled, while also holding the camera steady and stealing a few moments to keep for himself.
For a strange reason, being naked for a non-sensual reason felt even more vulnerable. Laying on the soft fabric, you felt oddly exposed and slightly more reserved. You’ve had countless strangers see you naked. Men were sexually desiring to see a sexy picture. You were always lusted after, but this feeling of nakedness was special.
“Are you ready?” Jeno gulped, finally setting the camera down. 
You hummed cheerfully. Your heart was leaping out of your chest as the boy shifted slowly to face you. As he turned, you noticed he had his eyes sealed shut, which caused a small laugh to erupt. “Jeno, you have my permission to open your eyes and to look at me.”
Holy shit, he was trembling with an inexplicable fear. The camera was slipping from his sweaty hands. His mouth was as dry as the desert. Jeno’s pounding heart was loud in his ears. 
Jeno has seen his past girlfriends laying naked in bed, but this situation was too different. When he saw you laying there in absolutely nothing, he was overwhelmed, yet astounded at how graceful you appeared.
There was no exchange of words and no exchange of eye contact. He towered over your lying figure and shakily brought the camera to his eyes. He selfishly wanted to capture your elegance. Through the lens, he saw all of you: the curve in your eyelid, your curled eyelashes, the small mole next to your soft lips, the sharp color of your eyes, the way your hair frames your face.
This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. You were comparable to the arts found in popular museums. Your body lines were enticing and an impressive shape. Your breasts pooled on your chest, the round nude nipple in the centers. Your details had to be sculpted by gods, who took their sweet time making you. You were a true masterpiece. 
Confused, Jeno felt a huge mixture of emotions. Was he aroused? Was he infatuated? Did he just fall in love with a complete stranger? He recognized the same thrilled feelings he felt taking landscape photos. With each click, he grew more excited with how beautiful the photos were turning out.
“Sit up and rest your chin on your left hand. Lean your weight on your right leg.” Jeno’s direction was clear and firm. There was no evidence of a smaller tone he usually spoke in. Sitting up, you placed your elbow on your upper thigh to steady your chin. Jeno had already gotten down to floor level to you. 
Without the camera that separated you two, it had to be the first time he faced you completely in such close proximity. There was so much to admire about Jeno. He remained concentrated on his craft, but it was actually very sexy to see his dedication. It was almost like he was a whole new person, like all the shyness drifted away. 
Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t simply your beauty that amazed him. Your confidence made everything easy. There was something about your blank stares, when he asked for an emotion, you portrayed it perfectly.
“Can we talk while you shoot?” Your sudden voice startled the photographer. He lowered his camera and his gaze automatically wandered off behind you, which didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded after a short pause and the shutter noises continued.
“Why did you choose me as your model?” 
Jeno peeled away from the device, “because you’re you.” He didn’t even know what that statement meant. It wasn’t like he knew you before the first time he asked you to model for him.
The corners of your lips dipped down, drawing an evident frown. Click. Jeno loved that image especially. It was a simple way to get real, authentic facial expressions. He marveled at the photo, but registered the reason behind it. “I wanted to ask you the second I saw you. I just knew that I wanted you.” 
“But you don’t know me.” 
Jeno looked through the lens once again, welcoming a full view of your stunning attributes. He spoke in a low voice, “then, let me know you.” Click. 
It would be the biggest lie to say that you weren’t aroused by Jeno at the moment. He was cool, without trying to be. He really did shine when he had a camera to work with, like a star to a dark night. While he had a distinct demeanor off the bat, you enjoyed unraveling the rest of him. He was, also, the first man you met that didn’t seem sexually driven by a naked woman in his presence. 
You had to resist every urge to push the camera away and share the few seconds of his entire gaze before it wandered away. You wanted to rock his world, he was so innocent and beautiful. You wished to wreak havoc on him, have him show you how much he wanted you. 
+
You anticipated an awkward photoshoot, but Jeno made you feel safe and comfortable. He made sure to adjust the temperature when goosebumps rose on your arms and when your nipples became painfully hard. He never touched you or came too much into your personal space. He always asked for your permission. 
Nude modeling was a new experience for you, but you were surprised at how much you liked it. or how much you liked Jeno taking your photos. He sat next to you on the bed when you put on your articles of clothing and panned through several shots to satisfy your curiosity.
Leaning close, your head ducked to see the photos. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw just the first few. “Is that really me?” The pictures made you feel an abundance of emotions, you felt what they reflected. Sadness, melancholy, happiness, confidence. You didn’t know images had that much power to make you feel that, especially photos of you.
Jeno nodded, smiling so wide that his eyes turned to moon crescents. He was so in love with the results. He found respect for Taemin’s craft and he was right, he might’ve found a new forte to experiment with. “I can send you the photos digitally too, if you want them.”
“Maybe I’ll print them out, frame them, and gift it to every horrid man who has tried to flirt their way to my body since they want to see it so fucking bad.” 
Jeno peered over and saw the tiny glimpse of pain in your orbs, “why would you give horrible people what they want?”
“So they can finally shut up and leave me alone. Plus, this is art and if I tell them it’s actually me, maybe it’ll change their minds to start treating me like it.” 
He held his palm up and almost immediately, your fingers filled the spaces between his. “I’m going to need you to start treating yourself as fine art.”
“Keep taking more photos of me and I just might start thinking I’m Mona Lisa.” Your laughters blended nicely into each other. There was mutual mental acknowledgement of the happiness you were both feeling.
Jeno never let go of your hand, and there was a short moment of comforting silence where you two sat in each other’s existence. You were the one to break it, “are you doing anything after this?” 
He shook his head. “Well then, you’re mine for the rest of the night. We’re going to pretend we’ve been close friends since first year and eat take-out on my bed because that’s what I need at the moment.” 
+
“I know you respect my body and see this as an art form, but I’m genuinely surprised that you didn’t feel aroused at the slightest.”
Jeno didn’t even realize how much time had already passed being you. You two ate and chatted as if you’ve known each other forever, as if the friendship wasn’t established several hours ago. It felt safe and right, like you two belonged in each other’s existence and nowhere else mattered.
He felt warm inside from your hearty laughter and courage, like he was watching a painting come to life or a photo in movement. You were smitten over how endearing and complex he was. He was more than what meets the eye and that alone drew you towards him.
“Okay, I’ll admit,” Jeno paused to watch your reaction, “in the most respectable way, I was somewhat turned on. But! Before you trail blaze me for being just like every disgusting male in your life, I genuinely didn’t have any sexual thoughts during the photoshoot. That was all professional and it will continue to be like that.” 
Getting up from your bed, your mind was working at lightspeed to process his confession. Jeno was fast to pick up someone’s personality, what stood out and what was kept hidden. He knew quicker than anyone else that you were not someone to offend because you were a strong, straight forward woman.
His personality breakdown went like this: you knew what you like, you knew you were going to get what you want, you enjoyed flirty banter (with people of your choice), you weren’t afraid to be blunt, or kick someone’s ass. You carried yourself with confidence that graced your every step, which makes anyone attracted to you instantly. Bold, confident, sexy had to be what came to mind whenever he thought about you. 
Nonetheless, he really liked you as a person. He could pat himself on the back all day long for just approaching you, but he knew the real reason as to how this all happened. It was you saying yes to a stranger’s odd photoshoot. You made him the luckiest man in the world. 
“Continue? Are you looking for excuses to keep seeing me?” You smirked and Jeno’s voice grew small. 
“I--- uh, well,” there goes the nervous stammering, “I know the conditions were a one time thing, so I understand if you don’t want to do it again.” As the night had progressed, Jeno gradually began to hold eye contact and actually looked at you directly without the help of seeing you through a lens. This was the first time he broke it. 
“Hey now, I’m messing with you, Jeno.” He had been sitting on your floor, at the end of your bed. You crawled on your elbows to reach him, and to hold his chin to face you again. Deja vu. “I’d love to get naked for you again, and again, and.. as many times as you want me to.” 
He stared at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. His eyes scanned your beautiful face to see your lips pull back into a mischievous smile. Gulping, he swallowed every ounce of courage he had left. “You don’t have to say it like that.” He tried to remove your grip, but it latched onto his hand. 
“You’re finally looking me in the eye, sweet thing. I don’t think you realize how much I had been wanting that from you.” You caressed his cheek, rubbing small circles on his texture. 
“What else do you want from me?” His implication sounded suggestive, even if his curiosity was innocent. 
Your hot breath brushed against Jeno’s lips. “I can show you.”
Jeno, the one and only college guy who has seen your naked body in a non-sexual context. Jeno, the shy, sweet boy who appreciated and recognized you as a form of art. Jeno, the talented and skillful photographer, who consistently made sure you felt comfortable. Jeno, the only person in the world who you’d model nude for. Jeno, the dazzling character behind the camera who you wanted more than anyone else you’ve ever met. Lee Jeno.
He seemed like he was inching closer, already tilting his head to fit your’s. You smiled to yourself, seeing that your words were received well. Diving in, your lips swam together fervently. 
The poor boy found himself lost in your enchanting, alluring gaze. He let the trance consume him, selfishly kissing the art he admired so dearly. A small part of him felt the guilt and confusion that began to rise. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wished to feel your lips on his neck, or run his hands across your hot skin. He swore these thoughts were not present earlier. 
A small pop! and Jeno held your shoulder to pull away. “I’m sorry, did I do something?” You asked, honestly concerned that you were taking more than you deserved. The least you desired was to hurt Jeno, who had been nothing but nice and sweet.
“(Y/N),” you could listen to your name roll off his tongue all day, “I feel somewhat guilty. I don’t want things to be misunderstood.”
“Which would be?”
“I don’t want you to think I coerced you into being my model just because I had intentions to sleep with you.” Jeno was already gathering his things, but you hopped off your bed and placed a hand on his chest. “Because that’s what it’s starting to look like at the moment.”
“Was that something you did though? Did you have those intentions?” Your stare bore right through him. The warmth of your hand relaxed his racing heart.
“Never, (Y/N), I would never do that to someone.” Your hand traveled down to grab his belongings and tossed it back onto the ground. 
He silently watched as you took off your pants, and stood in front of him in your underwear. “Then, we’re fine. I know your intentions have always been pure. But truthfully, Jeno, seeing you focused while you worked sparked something in me. You don’t understand how aroused I got and how badly I wanted you to fuck me on that bed.” His hand trailed up your exposed thighs, finally touching your softness. “You’re the one guy I wanted first, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.” 
“I-- I don’t know what to say.” His cheeks revealed how embarrassed he was, but his dark, lustful eyes were telling a different story.
A smirk fell upon your face, “then don’t say anything.” 
Jeno devoured you, inhaling the light hint of vanilla that still lingered. He hoisted you onto your mattress and kissed you like his life depended on it. His antsy hands roamed your free range, exploring, holding, gripping the parts he marveled over. Small moans from the back of your throat encouraged him to continue.
No one has ever kissed you with the amount of passion Jeno did. It was gentle, with enough vigor to cause your panties to dampen. It wasn’t sloppy, where previous guys had a problem of missing your mouth entirely and slobbered your chin. 
His lips worshiped you, highlighting your good sides. Flashes of the photoshoot popped into Jeno’s head as he left purple marks on the places he loved capturing the most. He pushed up your shirt, exposing your chest to him again. His tongue circled around your hard nipple as he made sure to give the same amount of attention to each one. 
Jeno knew he was too shy to hold your intense stare, but getting to know you during and after the photoshoot, he could see the softness in your gaze. He was, now, able to see all of you. The sight of you through the camera was addicting enough, so finally taking you all in was more than satisfying. 
Your hands ran through his hair as he kissed down your torso. His thumbs hooked the waistband of your underwear, and peeled it off your body. You gasped as the cold air from your apartment grazed against your exposed figure.
Jeno paused to admire your glistening pussy, “would it be okay if you let me make love to you?”
Your heart burned, not out of embarrassment, but at how he still managed to ask you for your permission in the sweetest way. You rested your weight on your elbows, “no one has done that before, would it actually make me want to fall in love with you?”
“It wouldn’t be too bad. I have a lot of love to give and you look like a person who deserves all of it anyways.” Jeno’s finger ran over your wet slit and rubbed your clit slowly.
Your moans filled the room as the electric jolted throughout your veins. The wetness grew, seeping out of you like a waterfall. Jeno dropped down to his knees, and lifted your legs on his broad shoulders.
“Are you usually this wet, baby?”
Chuckling, you smiled at his bold choice in using pet names, “Just for you.”
He hummed, chiming at how he liked your answer. Spreading you open, his tongue met with your swollen bud that begged for his licks.
His tongue darted side to side, up and down and in result, your back arched in pleasure and a darkness clouded your mind. His name and mindless profanities streamlined their way out of you as Jeno ate you out in such a precisely delicious way.
Grabbing a fist full of hair, you pulled him closer, even if there was no more space to fill. Looking down, you two exchanged glances before he thrusted a finger into you. Your hips bucked harder as he eased in another one.
Jeno curled his fingers in search of your sweet spot and found it when a deep moan escaped your throat. His fingertips rubbed and pressed into your plush flesh, causing you to practically scream and squirm in his mouth. 
He suckled your clit and fingered you simultaneously and quickly. The pleasure was overflowing and you released his hair to grip your sheets below you. Your legs shook and trembled as he had no caution to stop.
“Please, I’m going to--” you could barely talk due to your face contouring to the splurge of pleasure every single time Jeno rubbed your spot. “--to explode.” 
He had to take back what he thought earlier in the day. This was the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid eyes on. The whole scene played like from one of his favorite films. It felt like he was giving his photos life. Your body twisted and turned, accentuating the curves of your lines. 
Jeno had become painfully hard against the fabric of his jeans, but seeing you fall apart because of his minimal movements exhilarated him. “P-Please, don’t stop.” A breathy moan followed suit and your thighs tried to press themselves together. Jeno didn’t allow it, his free hand hooked underneath your left thigh to pull one side away from his cheeks.
Your high gradually grew so tall that it all eventually came cascading down. Your legs shook violently and sat up from the euphoria that took over you. Jeno prolonged your buzz and you screamed loudly, having to bite down on your fingers to stop yourself from angering your neighbors.
Jeno drank you up, letting your wetness cover his chin and drip down his knuckles. He pulled away, at last, and you took deep breaths to control your heavy breathing. It was like Jeno knocked the wind completely out of you. 
He stood up and you saw the outline of his hard bulge straining itself through his jeans. The next scene was quite animalistic. You, still embodying your high, sat on your knees and unzipped his pants with your needy hands.
“Now, it’s your turn to get nude for me.” You whispered, tauntingly. Jeno groaned when you reached down and gently pulled him out. He stepped out of his clothing, all of it. His shirt was lost in the corner and his bottoms were scattered over your floor. Mirroring his actions, you took off your last piece of cloth.
Jeno was built. Though his biceps did not go unnoticed during the photoshoot, you were surprised at the lines of muscle that sketched his body. It made your mouth water, seeing his extremely hard dick stand against his toned abs. His red tip fell just below his navel. Jeno only kept getting better as the night continued on.
Pulling him closer, his hand found their way to the back of your head as you aligned your mouth to the wetness that spilled from his tip. “I want to make you feel good.” Jeno’s hoarse voice made your knees weak.
Peering up, you batted your eyelashes at him fondly. “Just a little taste?” You begged, having to hold his shaft with both of your hands because of his thickness. Your tongue was already stuck out, your hot breath causing the tiniest bit of sensation for him.
He nodded and his eyes were trained on you. He didn’t want to miss any second of your kitty licks. You flattened your tongue against his warmth, dragging it up to the top. The saltiness hit your palette as you swirled around his redness. “Oh--” Jeno threw his head back and bit his lip, “--lay on the bed now.” 
You smiled sweetly and gave his member a quick kiss before reaching for a condom in your drawer. Jeno climbed onto your bed and situated the rubber comfortably. You laid on your back and he was fast to pull your legs around his waist. 
He lined himself at your entrance and eased his tip in slowly. Squirming, you craved him to fill you up to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, letting your tongue lap with his. It’s your hands with the mind of their own when they flew automatically to hold his face whenever you wanted to deepen the kiss. Then, Jeno stretched himself all the way in and he caught your gasp with his lips. He groaned, feeling the mess he created merely minutes ago. 
His hips moved so easily with your wetness, but he went slow. Dragging out each pull and then, pushing himself back in roughly. “Jeno!” Your body jolted up the bed each time. His body fell over yours to hold you intimately, letting you bury your face into his neck. Your lips latched themselves onto his sensitive skin, painting a purple sunset. 
Jeno’s arms snaked underneath your thighs as he pressed them to your chest, folding you almost into a ball. Your mouth hung open as he fucked you harder, rougher, deeper yet keeping the tempo rhythmically slow. At this point, you could feel his hits in your gut. Your weak hands gripped loosely around his strong wrists that held your legs down. “You’re pussy is so tight and holy shit---, you keep getting more beautiful.”
A familiar burning sensation set in your chest as you saw how concentrated his face had become. You were so fucked out that you could barely speak, “you—” his hips mercilessly slammed into you powerfully, enacting a low moan every time he reached your sweet spot. “—keep surprising me.” His actions came to a halt and he stared deeply into your soul. 
You whined, wiggling your hips for any friction. He held them down into the mattress, knowing his grip was strong enough to leave a mark. “I told you, I was going to make love to you tonight.”
“I’ve already fallen for you.” You said breathlessly, tracing the side of his face and pecking his lips softly. 
“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me by saying those things.” He whispered and pushed his entire shaft to fill you to your brim. 
You yelped his name and gripped his shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet. “Show me how badly you wanted me the first time you saw me.” Jeno blinked at you in slight shock. 
As he continued to hold the deep gaze, he kept pushing his dick further and further into you. He was balls deep, almost impossible to keep going. He fucked you without the need to pull out, just burying his cock deeper into your wet pussy. You exclaimed, moaned, cussed at every push. Holding the stare was more than enough to lose yourself all over him again. 
Jeno was drunk with the image of your fucked out expression and every time the mixture of pleasure and pressure caused your eyebrows to crease and mouth to open release sensual sound. He had been trying his best not to come undone, to fixate another climax for you.
The feeling of you wrapping tighter and tighter around him drove him insane. “Give it to me, please.” Your muffled plead called for his release, but he could feel that you were close to your second.
Jeno sat up on his knees and pulled you into his arms where your thighs fell over his. You groaned at the empty feeling, though it was quickly replaced with a gratifying moan when he inserted himself again. Your arms dangled around his neck, foreheads touching intimately. 
The fucking eye contact again, how could you get enough of it? You giggled, amused at how different Jeno was when he eventually opened up. He wrapped his strong arms around your back and thrusted his hips up into you. The way this man made you squirm, scream, and shake were nothing you’ve experienced before. 
He smirked, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek when he went rampage on your pussy. “Not laughing now, are you?”
You whined in pleasure, brushing your fallen strands of hair out of his face. “Shut up before I make you.” 
“Then I’d rather keep going.” Kissing up his jawline, you lead your way to his pout. His kisses intoxicated you with his passion and madness, like the most intense part of a symphony, or when the bass drops after a long build up in a song. 
Jeno sped up, ramming up into your slick pussy over and over again. He even brought your hips down to match him, guiding you down as he went up. The headboard was knocked against the wall, your windows steamed up, cries of pleasure from the both of you created the ambiance, the smell of sex filled your lungs. Jeno reached between your bodies to furiously rub your clit to where it felt almost raw. It all sent you into the clouds, the familiar queasiness settled in your lower half.
Your eyes rolled back and your back arched, having to pull away from the desirous kiss with Jeno. “I’m cumming!” You announced before the tension unraveled, causing you to see absolute white. The second wave was much more uncontrollable, Jeno felt you squeezing radically around his dick as he tried to fuck you faster to prolong the feeling.
Your legs shook around his and your upper body went limp with pleasure. You reached the peak of the mountain and it came crumbling down underneath your toes. It was catastrophically enthralling, to the point where you physically felt something leave your body.
“Oh shit..” Jeno stopped his motions at the sight of you squirting over his lap. He pampered your torso with fluttering kisses, hoping to calm your spastic body. “...baby, are you okay?” He asked with a bit of concern of how lack of life you seemed. 
This man just gave you the best climax in your whole life and he asked if you were okay? Regaining your senses, you sighed a small yes to reassure him that he didn’t actually murder you. Hopping off, you pulled the condom that restricted him.
He hissed when you cupped his balls in your palm. “Cum, my sweet thing.” You purred and Jeno’s hand pumped his member aggressively. You leaned in to help, sucking the tip and flicking your tongue over his slit. 
His other hand gripped your neck, causing you to drip on your sheets. Jeno was panting and with every tug, it became louder. He seemed so desperate to release that it made you smile to be the reason behind it. “Can you lay down,” A grunt followed his question, “please.” He huffed.
“Because you asked nicely.” Smirking, your back hit the sheets and you opened your legs to give Jeno a view. He situated himself above your stomach, as he fucked his tight grip.
“I’m cumming---” He couldn’t look any more amazing. With a final moan, the white streaks streamed out in short sequences. It landed across your abdomen, over your nipple, and pooled around your belly button. 
Bringing himself back to reality, Jeno stepped back to marvel you, his masterpiece. The white streaks coated your purple skin and your chest rose fast to catch your reality. Gazing upon your naked body, he was utterly infatuated with all of you. He was so in love with the sight of you that not a single photo could capture the beauty that you were. 
Jeno pondered the thought of how merely a day changed a small part of him. You were life changing, addicting, an incomparable character that he felt like he’s known forever, and now, couldn’t live without. It was the taste of your juices on his lips, your sweet melodic music that was your voice, your daring smile that enticed him to never peel away from you. It was simply you. 
He leaned down to rub his knuckles against your cheek, planting a lovingly peck on your forehead. “I’ll go start the water for you.” 
+
Jeno anticipated the reaction of his mentor. He found himself at the same scene he was when he was first given the task. Taemin sat across from him, hunched forward to analyze his new set of photos on his laptop. Raw, unedited photos of you, your body, your details. 
The hum of the air conditioning droned on, driving him mad. Jeno needed one reaction, but Taemin had been silent and expressionless for the past ten minutes. Whenever he did move, it was to click through to the next picture. 
Suddenly, he shut it closed and stood right up. Jeno, panicked, did the same. Taemin stuck his hand out and Jeno hesitantly grabbed it, incredibly unsettled and unable to read the older man.
Taemin received it firmly, giving Jeno a good handshake. “Welcome abroad, Lee Jeno. I expect even more great things from you.” 
Jeno registered his delightful mood switch and he was fast to follow up, “my photos, --- you --- like them?” 
Taemin nodded generously, patting Jeno on his shoulder. Taemin reached up to tap his own eyelids. “What you can see, is very special, kid. You’re an artist and I’m here to recognize that for you. It seems to me, you can do more than take pictures of sidewalks.” 
Jeno smiled happily, his eyes disappearing from joy. He couldn’t wait to tell you about it. 
The rest of the week, leading up to Jeno’s appointment, had felt nothing short of blissful moments together. You and Jeno spent almost every waking minute together without the cost of your friends’ time. He walked you to your classes, some even being across the campus from his own. You accompanied him for meals, even sitting in his lectures to just be with him.
There were no words that established what you two had become to each other. Jeno wasn’t looking for that anyways, in fact, he somewhat liked the ambiguity. If only he could tell you how making love to you made him begin to actually fall for you.
You were never one to hold a serious relationship, but you found a small want for that festering in Jeno. It was hard to admit to yourself, but Jeno saw you for all that you were. He truly saw you, whether it had been through a lens or through his own eyes. He captured your rawness and you were able to find vulnerability around him. 
He ran to you, where you sat in the lobby waiting for him to finish his meeting. Peering up from your phone, you noticed the beaming smile on the boy’s face. You couldn’t hold back your own grin, seeing him apparent with so much joy. “I’m guessing good things?”
“I got it, (Y/N)!” He jumped into your arms and you laughed at the sudden affection. “He loved my photos.” 
“I didn’t doubt it for one second. You’re an artist, Jeno. You create masterpieces that make even someone like me, feel like art.” 
Jeno hugged you closer to his chest, giving you a tiny squeeze. Pulling away to face you, his eyes examined your outstanding grace. You knew what he was already going to say, but simply wanted to hear him say it. “That’s because you are art.”
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luvdsc · a year ago
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i turned my best friend into an e-boy (and kissed him!!!)
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subscribe to see more content about two lovestruck idiots!
pairing :: lee donghyuck x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + youtuber au word count :: 5,163 words warnings :: none playlist :: make you mine (public) ⋆ starlight (taeyeon feat. dean) ⋆ magic (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ beautiful feeling (day6) ⋆ feelings (lauv) author’s note :: happy birthday to the sun himself! this wasn’t supposed to be a series, but i got inspired to write one for each of the other dreamies after writing his, so thank you, king!!!! ily sunshine ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.
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Being a YouTuber was never in your career plans. However, during your first year of college, after four consecutive vodka shots with your suitemates enthusiastically encouraging you in the background, you had drunkenly recorded yourself on your cracked iPhone, painting a rendition of Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam on the back of your ripped jean jacket. It was a close up of the famous almost finger touch, and obviously, it couldn’t fully compete against the fresco on the Sistine Chapel, but it came out good. Or at least, that’s what you assumed people thought from the 60,000 likes you received on the video that you had no recollection of uploading the night before.
Out of curiosity, you decided to record a second video with you tipsily painting Van Gogh’s Starry Night on the back pockets of your mom jeans. And then you did a third video, then a fourth, then fifth, and so on and so on until your channel exponentially grew, amassing a whopping 1.6 million subscribers on ShowMeTheMonet. Not bad for a girl who almost face planted the other day because she tripped on her own shoelace while running to her Ethics in Finance class (Or as you like to call it, How to Get Away with Fraud on Wall Street).
Your channel expanded out from only drunk painting videos to fashion lookbooks, thrift shopping hauls, casual tours of your apartment, and even a few daily vlogs that more often than not ended with you ranting about the latest Criminal Minds cliffhanger. You also indulged in the occasional Q&A video where you answered inquiries left in the comments or tweeted at you. And every time you announced a new Q&A, it never failed to bring in the same, glaring question from hundreds of viewers everyday.
Are you and Donghyuck dating?
Lee Donghyuck: your best friend, partner in crime, and number one source for free hoodies, even though that comes with a side of dramatic complaints from the devil himself. He could also be (sometimes affectionately) referred to as “pain in the ass” and “demon spawn.” He casually made an appearance in one of your vlogs one time and ever since then, the cursed question frequently popped up every hundred or so comments.
When one of the most liked comments on your videos suggested the “My Boyfriend Does My Makeup” challenge—which not only served as a big reminder of how single you are—you bribed Donghyuck with three boxes of Girl Scouts’ thin mints to do the challenge with you instead (That’s also how you discovered he is surprisingly very good at makeup until he decided to smear blue eyeshadow everywhere to make you into an avatar). In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have done that because that apparently only fueled the speculations that you and your best friend are harboring a secret relationship where the two of you are passionately in love with each other, like some ridiculous pair of star-crossed lovers.
One time, Jaemin started reading aloud a fan fiction story he had found written about the two of you, and that was probably the only time you’d ever seen Donghyuck willingly shut up and turn so red that he nearly rivaled Mars. You’re just eternally grateful that Jaemin never discovered the smut side of fan fictions on that fateful day. You would never be able to live that down.
“I can’t believe I’m forced to help you out again,” moans Donghyuck, pulling out the lighting set from your closet and dragging it out towards the setup.
You’re about to film your next video, finally finding inspiration from TikTok of all things. Your subscribers had mentioned the video platform multiple times in their comments, often asking whether you’ll create an account or complete some of the various spreading challenges. You’ll never admit it to anyone, but after googling what the renegade was, you spent two hours trying to record the dance in your bathroom and ended up banging your arm against the counter (You told Donghyuck you got the bruise from falling out of bed, which you decided was a much less embarrassing reason than the truth).
Downloading that phone application was probably simultaneously the best and worst decision of your life. It led to a downward spiral of watching videos in the same position on your bed for the next four hours. And from that extremely productive use of time, you discovered two very important things: one, you think Donghyuck would look really hot as an e-boy and two, there’s an interesting challenge going around that involves kissing and your best friend.
“For reasons I don’t understand, my subscribers like you. And you like getting attention, so it’s a win-win situation. I don’t see the issue.” You fiddle with the tripod, angling the camera towards the bed where Donghyuck will sit as you apply his makeup.
“What can I say? I’m in popular demand,” he says, completely ignoring the little jab you made about him. You motion for him to sit on the edge of the bed in order to make sure you properly have him in frame later. “Wow, it’s like you’re pimping me out to your viewers.”
“Please, Hyuck, have some self awareness. No one would pay for your services,” you retort, raising up the tripod before securing it and double checking twice. Last time you filmed a video, you failed to properly lock the device and experienced a very unpleasant mini heart attack when your camera came crashing down.
“Tell that to BigMatt85 who dm’ed me about a very lucrative sugar baby offer the other night. What’s your counter offer for my appearance in your video?” He wriggles his eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes. You make your way to the bathroom, quickly emerging with your makeup bag and setting it aside for the video next to the shopping bag holding the e-boy-esque outfit the two of you bought earlier.
“The attention you’re always craving.”
“That’s a terrible offer. As my appointed best friend, you’re obligated to pay attention to me,” he says, and you scoff, hiding a smile that threatens to appear when Donghyuck pouts at you. You reach out and poke his cheek, which makes him jut out his bottom lip even further.
“Cute,” you mutter absentmindedly, preoccupied with the camera functions and failing to notice the way your best friend perks up immediately at your offhand compliment. He positively glows at that single word with the darkest hue of pink dusting his cheeks and quickly looks the other way to hide his flustered expression, unable to reply with any witty quip for once.
“Okay, we’re ready to go,” you announce, fiddling with the record button. “I’m gonna start the recording right… now.”
Immediately after clicking the red button, you nimbly slip in front of the camera, seating yourself next to Donghyuck on the bed comfortably. You start with your usual introduction, your best friend chiming in to introduce himself as well, before you explain the premise of today’s video.
“So today, I’ll be turning Hyuck into an e-boy!” you finish off, followed by your best friend giving a half hearted hurray. You give him the side eye, and he puts in an extra 20% of effort into the second attempt. Internally judging him still, you plaster on a smile nonetheless. It’ll have to do for now.
You keep the other half of the video’s purpose a secret. That’s a main part of the challenge anyway: the element of surprise. You’re supposed to catch your best friend off guard with a quick peck on the lips. And okay, so maybe this entire video is pretty self-indulgent, but Donghyuck would never agree to let you dress him as an e-boy for fun nor would you ever have the guts to confess to him in a normal setting. The challenge provides you a safety net. If he rejects you, you can laugh it off and say it was for the video before drowning your sorrows in the two pints of Ben and Jerry’s Everything But The… you have in your freezer after he leaves.
“Okay, we’re starting with these stick-on nail polish strips,” you announce to the camera, holding up the packet of simple black nail polish. “I bought them off of Amazon for around $15, and I’ll be linking them in the description below.”
Nail polish strips are much quicker than regular nail polish, which is great because you highly doubt your best friend would be down for sitting there for forty minutes as you paint each one again. The last time you tried that, he proceeded to smear hot pink onto your comforter when he begrudgingly agreed to be your test subject as you tried out various shades. You still haven’t been able to wash that out and highly suspect he did that on purpose (He still swears on his innocence).
“So you’re telling me, you could’ve used these on me last time, instead of forcing me to sit around for an hour and wait for them to dry?” He watches you warily as you apply the first one onto his thumb. You hold down on it for thirty seconds before moving onto his index finger.
“Yes.”
“Then why the f—heck did you use the polish instead?” His eyes burn holes into the top of your head, and you pretend not to notice, continuing to position the next strip onto his finger.
“So that you’d sit still and not steal all my hot Cheetos when we were watching Tangled,” you casually answer, and he lets out a scandalized gasp, glowering at you.
“I’m glad I wiped my hand on your comforter.”
Your head immediately whips up at his careless confession. You shoot him a steely glare, abandoning the half applied strip, and the flimsy piece is left to dangle sadly. “I knew it! I knew you did that on purpose!”
“No, it was really an accident, but I don’t regret it anymore.” He wiggles his fingers at you with a smirk, and you grab them, squeezing a lot harder than you should and fixing the strip you were working on previously. He whines, shaking your hand off, and you begrudgingly loosen your grip.
“You’re the devil incarnate,” you mutter, and he merely throws a shit-eating grin in your direction before sticking his tongue out. Closing your eyes momentarily, you silently remind yourself that you’re on camera and therefore, there is going to be video evidence if you strangle your best friend.
“Maybe Renjun will let me star in one of his videos then,” he says, and you have to hold back an ugly guffaw. Renjun would rather move into the Sallie House and get possessed by the demonic goatman than let Donghyuck actually be in his Dream Unsolved videos. It’s a miracle that he even tolerates your best friend as his cameraman, but perhaps that’s mostly because no one else is willing (read: stupid enough) to travel to haunted places for the fun of it.
You soon get the hang of it, applying the following strips in a quicker fashion, as Donghyuck talks about the latest video he helped film for Dream Unsolved. Renjun and his partner had actually gone to meet with a priest who counseled them on approaching entities. Apparently, Father Kun said specifically not to interact with demons and gave them some holy water to take to the Bellaire House. Donghyuck even pulls up a picture he secretly snapped of a cranky Renjun with his holy water gun and holster outside of the haunted location (You’re ultimately forced to take five as you laugh so hard until you have tears in your eyes).
“Alright, these are done,” you say, applying the last strip onto his pinky, and he examines them, waving his fingers around before pulling several dramatic poses with them towards the camera.
“So how do I look?” he asks, batting his eyelashes at you as he strikes another pose, but this time directed at you. You chuckle, leaning over and flicking his forehead. “Like a pain in the ass.”
He whines, rubbing the reddening spot on his forehead before nudging your leg. “But I’m your pain in the ass.”
You hide a smile. “Unfortunately.”
The next step is changing his hair, so you turn to grab the canister of purple hair chalk spray and disposable gloves off your desk along with the folded towel next to it.  Showing it to the camera, you do a close-up of the bottle, making sure to capture the label of it properly. You also promise to link it in the description below.
“This isn’t permanent, right?” He stares at the hairspray in your hand before he throws the towel around his shoulders and closes his eyes.
“Nah, you’ll only look like a shriveled grape until you take a shower,” you say, taking a seat next to him, and he blindly reaches out and pinches you in retaliation. You quickly swat his hand away with a yelp. He laughs, lips curled into a pretty smile that you admire for a few seconds before snapping out of it. You start to spray it onto each strand, making sure to cover parts of his face with your hand to avoid any spray from getting into his eyes.
It doesn’t take long to dry, and soon, you’re finished. You stand up to put away the spray and peel off the gloves, tossing them in the trashcan before admiring his new hair. “Okay, I’m done.”
He opens his eyes, reaching up to pat his hair lightly before pulling and twisting at the strands to see its new color. You reach out and grab his hand, tugging it away. “You’re gonna remove the color if you keep doing that!”
You drop his hand before going to stand between his legs. You carefully arrange the strands again as they curl and tangle a bit at the ends. Your shirt rides up an inch as you reach over to fix his hair, showing a sliver of your skin, and Donghyuck averts his eyes, cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. He briefly wonders if you’re doing this on purpose to torture him and thanks the heavens when you finally pull back and give him a bright smile with a thumbs up. Any second longer, he would’ve combusted on the spot.
He has spoken too soon. Sitting down next to him once more, you have your makeup bag in your lap, thigh pressed against his, and he freezes for a moment, all too aware of the close proximity between you two. Pulling out your black pencil eyeliner, you uncap it before turning to the camera with a smile.
“Next, I’m gonna be putting some of my eyeliner and blush on Hyuck, and I’ll link the products I use in the description below!”
You lean forward, gently grasping your best friend’s chin and turning the right side of his face towards you. He inaudibly gulps, hyper fixated on the fact that you’re touching his face. Your face is mere millimeters away from his, he can feel the warmth emanating from you, and he‘s pretty sure his cheeks are on fire now.
“So uh, how long is this gonna take? How much longer?” he asks, desperately hoping that you don’t notice his nervousness and plastering a bored expression on his face. He really doesn’t know how long he can sit this close to you before his heart explodes.
You wrinkle your nose at him. “We literally just started. You’re lucky I’m not trying an e-girl look on you because that makeup would take longer.”
Carefully lining his eyes with the pencil and smudging it slightly, you lean back to examine the makeup’s evenness on both eyes. Noting that one eye needs more around the outer edge, you lean forward again before noticing the way his leg bounces up and down. You press your hand down on his thigh lightly, and his breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t remember how to breathe anymore. This is it. He’s going to pass out because you touched his leg. This is literally so embarrassing, get a grip, he scolds himself. He feels like he reverted to his prepubescent 11-year-old self when he was paired with his crush for mandatory square dancing and he finally got to hold her hand.
“Hey, stop shaking your leg or I might accidentally poke your eye out.” You frown at him, and he stiffly nods. You remove your hand, and he lets out the biggest exhale until you’re moving closer again. Like you’re practically in his lap type of close. Once again, he has to force himself to breathe.
“Okay, done, next is blush.”
You examine his face before tilting your head to the side and furrowing your eyebrows. Holding the blush palette and brush in one hand, you carefully pull his face closer to you again until he can count every single long eyelash framing your pretty eyes and see the tip of your tongue sticking out in concentration. His eyes flicker down to your mouth for a split second before he looks away. He wants to tuck the stray strand of your hair behind your ear so badly, but then he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and tugging you closer to kiss you. Cheeks darkening at that thought, he shoves his hands under his thighs, sitting on them and effectively stopping himself from acting upon his fantasies.
“Actually, you’re already really red already, Hyuck.”
“Perfect, then I’ll just change into the outfit we bought earlier,” he says hastily, standing up and grabbing the shopping bag next to the bed. He makes a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door with a quiet slam.
“Wait, I didn’t show our haul to— ah, forget it, I’ll record it later.” You scooch back onto the bed, crossing your legs and leaning back to press the palms of your hands into the comforter. Your mind wanders back to the moment before, replaying the way Donghyuck looked at you mere seconds ago. Your cheeks grow warm, as do the tips of your ears, when you remember the way he gazed so intensely at you and how his eyes darted down to your lips for a fraction of a second. And of course, it’s a known fact that wearing eyeliner makes any person ten times more attractive, especially your best friend when he was looking at you like that. You let out a strangled noise, flopping back and grabbing a pillow to cover your face, smothering the tiny scream you let out (You make a mental note to edit out your tiny meltdown some other day).
“Okay, prepare to be blown away,” Donghyuck calls out loudly from behind the bathroom door. As you desperately try to calm your escalating heart rate, you spring up from the bed, settling on the edge of it once more, and hear your best friend whistle at himself. “Damn, I could be on the cover of Vogue.”
“Oh my god, shut up, Hyuck,” you groan, crossing your arms over your chest and silently praying for the blush on your cheeks to disappear. When you hear another catcall from the bathroom, you manage to muster up the most deadpan expression at the camera like you’re Dwight Schrute. It’s times like this when you wonder why you’re in love with this cocky dumbass.
“Cover your eyes!” He screams from behind the door. You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you before complying to his demand. “Are they covered?”
“Yes, so come out!” You yell back, hands placed over your eyes that are already squeezed shut. Your ears faintly register the sounds of the door opening and feet lightly padding across the wooden floorboards before it’s quiet.
Donghyuck stares at you, your eyes still closed and covered. He wonders when he started feeling nervous about what you thought of him. Of course, he always valued your opinion before, but this feels different. His stomach flip flops as his mind runs in overdrive, emerging with hundreds of doubting thoughts. Suddenly, he regrets the false bravado he made a show of putting on earlier. What if you don’t like it? Heart racing, he chews on his lower lip, contemplating for another few seconds before gathering the courage to call for your attention.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
You quickly pull your hands away from your face, eyes immediately darting to his figure and widening in surprise. Dressed in tastefully ripped black jeans that accent his long legs perfectly along with a black and white striped shirt layered underneath one of those popular Thrasher shirts, he also put on a few silver necklaces, rings, fake ear piercings, and Doc Marten boots. His hair is slightly mussed, a few violet strands curling here and there.
You were completely right.
He absolutely kills the e-boy look.
Your best friend is fucking attractive as hell.
Gaping in shock, you honestly don't know what to do with yourself. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you can only gawk at him in complete awe, incapable of saying anything. In that moment, you recall that part in Tangled when Flynn Ryder stares at Rapunzel in the boat when she’s surrounded by all the lanterns. First of all, you have definitely seen the light, and his name is Lee Donghyuck in e-boy fashion. And secondly, if your best friend is Rapunzel, then you’re the perfect reenactment of Flynn right now, except you’re pretty sure you more closely resemble a fish with your mouth hanging like this.
“Holy shit,” you whisper, and he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks uncharacteristically shy, a small smile on his face with his front teeth barely peeking out. It’s endearing and you’re a little perplexed at his reaction, but are still too preoccupied at ogling his new look.
“Is that a good ‘holy shit’?” He tilts his head in your direction, and you furiously nod, cheeks growing warm as the words leave your mouth before you can stop them.
“Yeah, you look stunning.”
Almost immediately, that all too familiar cocky expression spreads across his face. He leans back slightly and slips one hand into his jean pocket, smirking and poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. You feel your heart speed up a little in your chest.
“Hell yeah, I look stunning.” He grows smug, and your cheeks burn even more when your words are repeated back to you by your best friend. Averting your eyes, you turn towards the camera in front of you and angle it at Donghyuck, still absolutely flustered and stumbling over your words.
“Uh, I—um, I need some shots of you in the full outfit.”
Eyes sparkling, your best friend easily complies to your request, posing for a few shots naturally before slowly turning around full circle. Your heart entirely wrenches and your breath catches in your throat because he really is so pretty. Donghyuck truly is the whole package, you realize with a start as you quietly admire him behind the lens. He keeps up with your bantering and jokes, stays up with you to binge watch Scooby-Doo on Netflix, and even makes you pancakes in the morning if he’s feeling particularly generous after a sleepover the night before. He’s smart, funny, talented, and kind, plus he’s willing to eat all the discarded pretzels in your bag of Chex Mix. Seriously, where else can you find someone like this? The Big Man Upstairs really didn’t skimp out on anything when he made your best friend.
With a jolt in your heart, you realize that this is it. It’s time. It’s the perfect moment to initiate the second challenge, and butterflies erupt in your stomach while your hands grow sweaty at the mere thought of kissing your best friend. With the blood rushing to your cheeks, you wipe your palms on your pants and straighten up from your position behind the camera before nervously making your way over to your best friend in a few steps.
Your best friend raises an eyebrow at you, the confusion clear in his eyes, and you clear your throat before outstretching your hand and pretending to fix his hair. “This part was sticking out a bit.”
You count to five in your mind as your heart ricochets in your chest before you allow your fingers to trail down to his cheek, lingering there for a few moments before. Hesitating at first, you finally pluck up the courage to meet his eyes with yours. With a sharp inhale, you see that your best friend is already staring back at you with the softest expression on his face, lips parted slightly and eyes glimmering, almost as if he’s waiting for you, beckoning for you to take the leap.
And you do.
Eyes fluttering shut, you tentatively press your lips against his. Donghyuck stiffens for a moment before relaxing, kissing you back eagerly and wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you impossibly closer, and your other hand lands on his chest and curls around the fabric of his shirt. It feels like fireworks are exploding as your heart nearly sings in joy because your best friend kissed you back. His mouth presses against yours, mapping out every curve, and you sigh into the kiss, causing him to smile.
When you break away with warm cheeks and all the oxygen knocked out of your lungs, he laughs breathlessly, lips red and slightly swollen. He lightly squeezes your hip before asking with a husky voice, “So what was that for?”
“I, uh, it was a Tiktok challenge,” you answer dazedly, and your best friend secretly smirks when he notices the pretty stars in your eyes. You start to take a step back, mumbling another excuse. His eyes twinkle mischievously, and his fingers nimbly wrap around the belt loops of your jeans and tug you back towards him.
His lips crash onto yours once more, and you let out a muffled noise of surprise, the telltale blush rising to your cheeks again. He presses his lips against yours more firmly, and you finally respond, molding your mouth against his as you slip your arms around his neck, chest pressed against his. You can feel the way his heart speeds up, thumping against his ribcage, and you can already imagine that yours is the same, pounding faster than ever because of one certain Lee Donghyuck.
After a few moments, he reluctantly pulls away, placing a tender kiss on the corner of your lips. “Well, that probably wasn’t appropriate for your channel.”
Your eyes flutter open, and you gingerly touch your lips, wonderstruck. “Forget the video, what was that kiss for?”
Donghyuck beams at you, eyes curving into lovely moon crescents and crinkling in the corners, as he boops his nose against yours affectionately. “I wanted to do the challenge, too.”
You completely fail to hide the ever growing smile on your face. You reach out to carefully rub away some of the purple hair chalk that somehow landed on his cheek, and his smile widens. “But, do you even know what the challenge is?”
“No, but I got to kiss you, so does it really matter?” He shrugs, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, cheeks growing impossibly warmer. If this continues, your face might erupt in flames. He shamelessly grins at your reaction, laughing loudly and squeezing you tightly. “What was the challenge anyway?”
“It’s called ‘today I tried to kiss my best friend.’ So I, you know… kissed my best friend,” you mutter. When he doesn’t respond, you slowly peek up at him. He seems to be concentrating on something in particular before his eyes light up, an idea already forming in his mind. You’re half intrigued and half terrified, wondering what he’s going to say next.
“Well, I think we both failed the challenge,” he announces, and your eyebrows nearly shoot off your face. He gives you a cheeky grin. “We should probably try again.”
You let out a snort, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck again. “Oh, really? And what happens if we fail again? Do we keep trying?”
His eyes sparkle as he starts to lean in. “That’s the spirit. Wow, I really should’ve dressed like this years ago, huh.”
“I don’t know,” you tease, nudging your nose against his. “I mean, that one phase where you had that short, bright red helmet haircut really got my panties in a twist.”
Donghyuck immediately recoils, face burning as he unfortunately recalls the repressed memory of that horrid haircut that he managed to keep buried all these years. His face twists into an unpleasant grimace, and you barely manage to stifle a laugh before he starts to sulk, whining as he clings onto you.
“Shut up, my mom said I looked handsome!”
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One new notification: ShowMeTheMonet has uploaded a new video!
jenojam commented:
wait this was actually kinda cute 😳
winwin in past tense is wonwon!!! commented:
whoop whoop
jeno is my favorite commented:
y/n and donghyuck: announces relationship us: pretends to be shocked @.@
nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ commented:
LOVE IS SO BEAUTIFUL 🥺🥺💘💓💓💞💞🥺💝💖💚
FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:
FJDKSLSLA!!! THEY REALLY DID THAT HUH 🤩🤩🤩  (btw who is donghyuck)
johnny’s communication center commented:
Woah who is that sexy dude with that sexy looking face? Damn he looks like a player 😉 
prince jae commented:
this is a bop! edit: wait did i use that correctly
takoyaki prince commented:
😍😍😍😘
ghosts are real so suck it hyuck commented:
you will never be allowed on my show. @ y/n, if he’s forcing you to be his gf, blink twice and we’ll get you out of there
insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck literally no one asked you ron jeon
ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle it’s RENJUN. REN. JUN. R-E-N-J-U-N.
jisung pwark commented:
ok so maybe this convinced me to shoot my shot. also gross go make out off camera you guys
mork lee rawr xD commented:
Wooooooww~~ this was SWEET hahahaha
ShowMeTheMonet replied: @ mork lee rawr xD can you rec me some hyuck aegyo compilations? 🥰
junguwu (◕‿◕✿) commented:
oh my god??? HE LOOKS SO GOOD?? 😍😛 HELL YES Y/N GET YOUR MAN SWEETIE ✊🏻😩
big head king commented:
No one: Literally no one: Hyuck: DAMN I COULD BE ON THE COVER OF VOGUE 🥵🥵
insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ big head king you’re just jealous that y/n called me STUNNING 💅🏻
ty track commented:
please have him home before 10 pm on weeknights
insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ ty track you’re not my mom
ty track replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle i’m calling johnny
insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ ty track omg wait i’m sorry i’ll come home by 9 pls don’t call dad ily 🥺
apado gwenchana god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
3K notes · View notes
notnctu · a year ago
Text
switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club
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━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series 
genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠  fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au,  ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo​ ; @dearlyminhyung​
a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :) 
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The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you. 
This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you. 
He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you. 
So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together. 
You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.
The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.
Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts. 
Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you. 
“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone. 
“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.
“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.
The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut. 
“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”
Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.
He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.
“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter. 
Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.” 
Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more. 
He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal. 
But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.
You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone. 
“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face. 
“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car. 
And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.
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It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.
He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.
While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.
If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.
He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen. 
Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.
Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.
“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body. 
The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire. 
“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?” 
The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”
His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.” 
Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.” 
“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention. 
He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.
Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno. 
You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.
Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.
Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat. 
Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things. 
And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.
He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.
“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.
“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”
“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 
Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats. 
Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”
“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink. 
At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you. 
“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.
“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”
Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.
The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.
“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.
“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs. 
The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel. 
“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”
You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”
“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.
All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.
Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips. 
However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.
You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again. 
“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship. 
“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.
His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you. 
There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.
“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.
“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”
Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”
Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”
Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 
“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.
Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.
“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice. 
You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper. 
His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate. 
Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.
“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.” 
Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.
“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.
You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.
The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle. 
You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.
Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you. 
This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s. 
You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.
“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.
Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you. 
His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.
The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.
His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him. 
“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax. 
Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.
Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.
Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.” 
“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.
“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.
It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.
“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.
“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.
“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.” 
Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.
Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.
It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.” 
The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed. 
But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.” 
“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.
He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.
“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space. 
Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.
“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.
The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”
The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.
He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid. 
“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.
A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?” 
Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?” 
Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”
A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves, 
“thank you for stepping in.”
“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again. 
His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them. 
“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”
The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”
His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.” 
Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.
“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s. 
Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.” 
To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being. 
“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.
But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.
“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.” 
He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours. 
The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.
Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.
Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his. 
“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior. 
“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.
Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek. 
But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.
Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.
Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.
He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed. 
Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.
“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle. 
Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.
“How-- How fast are you going?” 
Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.” 
The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”
You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”
Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him. 
You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.
The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much. 
Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.
Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.
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“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.
Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”
Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that. 
Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious. 
His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown. 
“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response. 
“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”
“---No need to further explain.” 
“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.
You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”
Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.” 
Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it. 
A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.
“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.” 
The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.
One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin. 
“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.” 
You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further. 
Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.
“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.” 
“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.
He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.
Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” 
“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.
His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.
He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.
One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.
It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving. 
However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him. 
He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.” 
Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.
“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat. 
The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile. 
“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party. 
“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand. 
“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough. 
“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”
He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.” 
“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.
Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.” 
Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard. 
He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.
“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.
He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode. 
His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs. 
You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.
He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect. 
Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.” 
Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.
“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.
However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own. 
It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.
He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.
“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer. 
Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.
“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.
“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.
Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.” 
You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.
“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk. 
He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car. 
Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane. 
3K notes · View notes
waithyuck · 11 months ago
Text
double dog dare
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pairing: lee donghyuck/haechan x reader (f)
genre: smut
word count: 12.1k
warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex/cumming inside, fingering, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of past relations with na jaemin himself, kinda like a college au, explicit language, bff! renjun and bff! jeno, mark is also here, friends to lovers, some feelings and ig some angst idk
a/n: i wrote this bc I really just wanna,,,,,sit on hyuck’s lap.........it’s been a long ass ride fellas and idk if I really like it that much but I hope you enjoy reading this fiasco
——
parties really weren’t your thing. renjun knew that, you obviously knew that...but here you were, situated in the kitchen of an obnoxiously large frat house, surrounded by people downing incredibly stupid amounts of alcohol and throwing themselves at each other. 
you weren’t a fan of alcohol either. sure, renjun had taken the liberty of pouring you a cup of something, and you trusted him enough to do so considering you’ve been friends since diapers, but you really didn’t want it. you took about two sips before deciding that yeah, you hated it and never wanted to taste whatever it was ever again, but ultimately decided to keep it in your grasp in case anyone tried to force another drink on you. 
you were in your own world, eyes flitting around the room of the kitchen, and eventually out to the living room through the doorway. your eyes settled on one person and one person only, your chest aching at the sight of him.
“yo y/n, I double dog dare you to go sit on hyuck’s lap,” renjun blurted, a red solo cup in his hand as he leaned toward you over the island counter. you turned your head toward him shot him an incredulous look, setting your own drink down as you faced him. 
“uhh, how old are we?” you questioned, baffled. “and also, i feel like I’d hurt him if I did that, so no.” 
renjun rolled his eyes, gesturing to hyuck who was seated on the couch in the other room, still visible to your wandering eyes as he chatted with mark about something probably useless. “I don’t care how old we are, you like him don’t you?” 
you felt your body grow hot in embarrassment and you picked up your drink to sip on it shyly, almost trying to hide yourself. you nodded slightly, barely even tipping your head as you silently replied to the boy in front of you. 
yeah sure, you’ve had a crush on donghyuck since high school, and it only grew when you realized you were both going to be attending the same university. a few of your mutual friends—like renjun and jeno, and also mark (who was a year older)—also were students at your university, making you all grow closer as the academic year progressed. admittedly, renjun and jeno were closer to you than they were to hyuck, but you existed in the same circles and that’s all that really mattered. 
you couldn’t blame yourself for liking donghyuck. he was the complete package; he had the dashing looks of a fuckboy, but the personality of a golden child. he was sweet and respectful, but also could be teasing and loud, giving him an appealing dynamic. you talked to him in high school a bit, since you were both friends with renjun at that point, but you never became close enough friends to hang out on your own time. he was sweet to you though, always cordial and making sure you felt involved no matter where your friend group found themselves. 
you yearned for him from afar, as always. 
speaking of having the looks of a fuckboy, donghyuck never truly acted like one. in all the time you’ve known him, you’ve seen him only in about two relationships. he was never one to sleep around with random girls and break their hearts, so that was another factor into why you liked him so much. 
“so?” renjun’s voice ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit where you stood. “there’s no reason not to. plus, I bet he won’t even remember tomorrow if you did.” 
that didn’t ease your nerves. you didn’t want to take advantage of a boy who was under the influence of alcohol, even if it was as innocent as just sitting on his lap. you looked at renjun and then back at hyuck, the neon pink lighting reflecting off of his skin beautifully, painting him in the fluorescent color and making him look even more ethereal than he already was. his long, light brown hair framed his face well, a full grin blessing his features as he laughed at something mark said, his body bending forward on the couch as he curled into himself. your heart fluttered at the sound of his laughter, loud and boisterous, causing you to almost laugh along with him. 
you sighed.
“give me fifty bucks and i’ll do it.” you blurted out, not exactly thinking it through. you tore your eyes from hyuck to look renjun dead in the eye, holding your hand out in front of you with an open palm. he could probably see through your fake confidence, most likely catching how you bit your lip nervously and shook your leg as you stood across from him. 
renjun almost choked on his drink, sputtering a few times before collecting himself. 
“fifty bucks and you’ll do it? fucking deal, dude.” he exclaimed, pulling his wallet out from his pants pocket. “jeno! she’s gonna do it!” he shouted across the kitchen to the other boy, who turned around almost immediately, rushing over to the two of you. your eyes widened at the situation that just occurred, your mouth dropping open in shock.
“wait, you were in on i--” 
“how did you manage to convince her?” jeno cut you off, ignoring you while throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you to his side. you gave them both a dirty look, but they still didn’t pay you any mind.
“she said she’d do it for fifty dollars,” renjun replied, sliding the money across the counter toward you. you didn’t hesitate to grab it, quickly pocketing the cash before he could even attempt to take it back. jeno laughed, squeezing you even closer to him, if that was even possible.
“oooh, good girl, getting some money for it,” jeno commented, reaching up to squeeze your cheeks. you fought the feelings that crept up on you when you heard the pet name fall from his lips, seizing his hand and shoving it away from your face.
“I can’t believe you two,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes and stepping away from the counter. “you know what, I want fifty from jeno after I do this, just for collateral.” you slipped jeno’s arm off your shoulders, giving him a pointed look. 
“I’ll give you the money now, y/n’” he replied, pulling out his own wallet just to show you the cash. “but I want it back if hyuck ends up fucking you tonight.” he laughed as he watched your jaw drop at his words, your body feeling like it was submerged in molten lava. you punched his chest, murmuring out a small “asshole” before turning to nervously peer out at donghyuck for the millionth time that night. 
“how do you think he’s gonna react?” you mumbled, biting your already chipped nails. hyuck was still just minding his own business, his legs spread wide as he sat across from mark, almost like an open invitation for you to just go up to him and sit.
“well,” renjun started, leaning his elbows onto the countertop, sharing a quick look with jeno before his eyes returned to you, your own still entirely focused on the boy in the living room. “you’re a pretty girl and you’re gonna sit on his lap, so I think there's a good chance he’ll react pretty positively.” he paused for a moment, then continued, “plus, he knows you.”
jeno nodded along with him, patting your shoulder in reassurance. “yeah, and if things do happen to go south, we’ll swoop in and save your ass.” 
you turned around to face them both, your eyes overflowing with your very prominent hesitance. 
“can you save me from the crippling embarrassment though?” you questioned, your voice coming out sharp. “I mean, what if he just straight up shoves me to the floor?” 
they both smirked at this, obviously comprehending your words in a raunchier way. 
“I think I would consider that a win, if he wanted you on your knees so bad--”
you didn’t let jeno finish his sentence, winding up to start punching the ever-living shit out of him once again. 
“you know what I meant, dumbass!” you shouted, showing his chest and getting a few smacks in. he put his hands up in surrender, all while renjun was giggling in the background at his expense. 
“alright, alright, I’m sorry! jeez,” jeno backed up and fixed his shirt, shooting you a glare. 
“I think you’re overthinking it, y/n.” renjun butted in, drawing your attention away from the cowering boy in front of you. “just fucking do it.”
you let out the breath that you were acutely aware you were holding, wiping your sweaty palms along the fabric of your shirt as you straightened your posture.
“give me the damn money, jeno.” you blurted, fixing your clothes in the process. jeno pulled a fresh $50 bill from his wallet (most likely part of his latest allowance from his loaded parents) and held it close to his chest, not handing it over just yet.
“can I get a kiss first, princess?” he smirked, teasing and testing you once again. sometimes you wondered if this kid had a death wish. before you could speak, renjun let out a loud retching sound, pretending to barf as he bent forward at the waist.
“jesus jeno, knock it off,” he shuddered, looking at jeno in disgust. “kissing y/n is reserved for hyuck only, anyway.” 
jeno merely rolled his eyes, holding out the money between two fingers. you snatched it from him, glaring at him once again before stuffing the bill in your pocket along with the others. you chose to ignore renjun’s comment, willing yourself not to think about donghyuck’s lips on yours, soft and plush…
you shook your head, snapping yourself out of the lustful stupor before it could actually develop. you placed your hand over your chest, your racing heart ready to run right out of your body as you started walking toward the living room where donghyuck was seated. hearing the two boys behind you yell out a ‘good luck!’, you slowly strided through the doorway of the kitchen and into the room full of bustling young college students, none paying any mind to you.
time seemed to slow as you approached him; the way his body glowed in the pink light struck you in the gut once again, your heart fluttering on its own accord at the sight of him. he wore a red jacket over a white t-shirt, black ripped skinny jeans gracing his long legs as he lounged lazily. the fit was probably worth more than your entire life, but nonetheless you mustered up all the courage you could manage as you finally reached him. 
he didn’t see you at first; completely emerged in his conversation with mark. when your body finally cast a shadow over him, he finally looked up, his eyes sparkling as he recognized it was you. 
“y/n, hey!--oh,” donghyuck seemed happy to see you, but let out a small noise of surprise as you planted yourself on one of his thighs, swinging your legs around to lay over his lap comfortably. as you swung one of your arms around his shoulders, you felt his hands instinctively move to hold your hips, helping you steady yourself as you sat on him. 
“uh, are you alright?” he asked, not making any moves to remove you. he didn’t even seem uncomfortable with the prospect of you sitting in his lap, which eased your nerves just a bit.
you turned on your charm and confidence, ever the actress as you smiled at him sweetly. 
“yeah, i’m perfectly fine,” you said, looking him in the eyes, which proved to be difficult due to your giddy heart jumping in your chest. remembering that mark was present, you turned to face him, seated across from you and hyuck. you shot him a smile, “hey mark.” the boy in question in return gave you a small wave, a flirty smile gracing his own lips.
“damn y/n, you’re looking good tonight,” mark commented, licking his lips as he took in your figure seated on donghyuck’s lap, his eyes flitting down your body. “why don’t you come sit on my lap instead?” 
you were nervous at the way the older boy was looking at you, but ultimately knew it was just mark teasing you to get a reaction. even though you weren’t that close with mark, you knew how he liked to play. 
before you could shoot back a witty reply, you felt hyuck’s right hand leave your hip, his arm wrapping around your middle and pulling you closer to his body tightly. your eyes widened in shock, not expecting the action from him. 
“I think she’s fine where she is, right y/n?” hyuck glanced at mark and then at you, expecting an answer as your mind reeled at what he just  said. your hand went down to pat his own and you almost got caught up in the way his warm skin felt against your palm. 
“yeah…” you retorted dumbly, before snapping yourself out of your stupor. “uh, yeah! yeah, I’m fine where I am, sorry markie.” you tried to keep your confident composure, clearing your throat and tearing your eyes away from donghyuck’s entrancing chocolate ones. he smiled triumphantly, his left hand that still laid on your hip squeezing you in a gesture of subtle praise. 
mark hummed in response, taking a swig of whatever was in his cup before speaking once again. 
“talking like she’s yours, aren’t you hyuck?” he tested, quirking an eyebrow at the boy you were currently sat on. your heart felt like it was doing jumping jacks in your chest, and you could feel your fingers trembling as you softly gripped the jacket donghyuck was wearing. 
unfazed by mark’s teasing, hyuck only smiled. his confident demeanor remaining steady as he leaned forward to rest his head directly next to your own, his chin on your shoulder. 
“I think she’s made it pretty clear on who she belongs to tonight,” hyuck retorted evenly, smirking at the way you body froze in his hold. “she’s in my lap, is she not?” 
your body felt too hot, a claustrophobic air surrounding you as you felt your throat constrict, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth. you looked toward the kitchen quickly, noticing that renjun and jeno had both disappeared from your view. 
assholes, you thought. they weren’t even there to actually save you if you needed them to. 
regaining your composure, you cleared your throat, gaining the attention of the two boys. turning on your attitude, you gave a playful glare to the both of them. 
“‘she’ is sitting right here and definitely does not appreciate all of this possessive talk,” you were lying through your teeth of course; the thought of hyuck calling you his own, even if just for tonight, was making your body heat up in ways that made you squirm. you looked at hyuck once more, taking in (and struggling to effectively ignore) how he smirked at you before his eyes trailed down to your lips. “if this keeps up I’m gonna get up and leave.” 
another lie. you were having fun teasing them amidst dying on the inside. maybe you should take up those acting classes renjun was suggesting…you were a damn natural. 
hyuck’s other hand left your hip in a split second, both of his arms now wrapping around your middle and hugging your body even closer to him, if that was even possible. his smirk changed into a pout, his lips pushing out in the cutest way. 
“nooo, y/n I was kiddingggg,” he whined, his personality changing in mere seconds. “you feel so nice sitting on me, I want you to stayyy,” 
you felt breathless; how could you resist this boy, your crush of three years, begging you to remain seated on his lap? you considered teasing him further, but definitely couldn’t fight the urge inside you to just give in and give him what he wanted. 
you lifted a hand to pinch his cheek, his sudden scowl from your action causing a small giggle to arise from your chest. again, forgetting mark’s presence, you focused solely on the boy who’s chin still rested upon your shoulder, his face extremely close to your own.
“how could I say no when you’re acting so cute?” you cooed, surprising yourself at the flirty tone in your voice. this was definitely a side of yourself that you’ve never even thought to weaponize, especially not at donghyuck. you wondered if he was as equally surprised at your flirtatious confidence as you were. 
“I gotta say, I’ve never seen you act like this, y/n,” mark chimed in, his presence still being around irritating you slightly. “did someone slip something in your drink?”
he was joking of course, lightening the mood but also implying that you came off as shy most of the time. 
you gawked at him, shimmying your hips in donghyuck’s lap to get more comfortable. you pretended not to hear the soft groan that he let out in your ear, instead focusing solely on mark in front of you.
“first of all, not funny,” you quipped, “people can actually get seriously hurt when they’re drugged,” you didn’t want to dampen the fun atmosphere, so you quickly added, “and second, am I not allowed to hang out with my friend at a party?”
mark just shook his head in reply, laughing and downing the rest of the contents in his cup. you once again shifted your hips, but didn’t get very far as hyuck’s hands suddenly moved to your hips again, his fingers digging into you roughly as he stilled your movements.
oh, you thought, your eyes widening a little at the feeling of his hands gripping you so tightly. he has a little issue forming…
you could feel it, but didnt let him know, afraid he was going to be embarrassed and push you away. instead, you wiggled once more despite his tight hold, squeezing an almost inaudible sound from within him. his nails dug into you through the material of your pants, making you internally squeal.
“yeah, you know what, y/n?” hyuck suddenly said, his voice strained slightly as he spoke. “why don’t we go somewhere else to catch up? I can barely hear you in here.”
you didn’t know how to react; was your crush really asking you to go somewhere alone with him? did he actually have a growing hard-on because of you? if things went the way you were hoping they were going to go, you would kiss renjun right on the mouth in thanks.
for sure, you knew he was making up a lie just to get the two of you away from mark, and of course you were going to go along with it.
“I’m kinda tired,” you managed to yawn on command, stretching your arms up to further the effect of your words. “I think I should just go home.” 
“I’ll take you.” hyuck didn’t hesitate to offer, shifting to stand up with you still placed on his lap. his movements startled you for a second, but you managed to stand and steady yourself with a little help from his hands on your waist.
“wait, haven’t you been drinking?” you asked, pointing to the cup he had discarded on the coffee table. he smiled but shook his head no, picking up the cup and showing you the contents. 
“it’s just water, baby,” he replied, even encouraging you to smell the liquid just to further prove it wasn’t alcohol. you nodded, silently screaming at the way he so nonchalantly called you ‘baby’. 
“what about renjun and jeno?” you whispered to him, eyes darting around to see if you could find them. hyuck simply shrugged, telling you to just send them a text to let them know you’re okay and heading home. 
your eyes flitted to mark, and you gave him a small wave before donghyuck took your hand in his own, effectively dragging you away and out the front door. It didn’t take the both of you very long to get to his car, and you didn’t speak a word as you climbed in the passenger seat.
after shooting renjun a quick text, you put your phone on do not disturb and squeezed it into the back pocket of your pants, turning your attention to the boy who occupied the driver's seat beside you. you purposely left out that you were leaving with donghyuck in the message, but you figured that renjun would probably notice the two of you both absent from the house soon enough. 
hyuck started the engine and quickly put on music from his own playlist, the soft sound of rendezvous at two’s music playing through the speakers. you let out a small snort.
“rendezvous at two, huh?” you questioned, finally realizing you needed to put your seatbelt on and quickly moving to do so. “interesting.”
“what’s so interesting about it?” he shot back, smiling as he began driving down the road, his eyes flicking to you for a second before focusing back in front of him. 
you shrugged your shoulders in response, not really sure what to say. you didn’t want to flat out say it was ‘horny music’ but, to be fair...it was. you decided on keeping your mouth shut.
he quickly asked you for your address and you told him, but after that silence befell on the both of you, the music and the purr of the car engine the only sounds to be heard.
the drive wasn’t a long one, only about ten minutes down the road from the frat house. it was mostly silent; the only thing keeping you from staring at him was the beautiful view of the lake outside your window, the stars making the water sparkle along with the light of the full moon. 
when he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, he parked in the very back, the shadows of the trees hiding his car from view. he didn’t shut the car off, but you both still sat there letting the soft music keep you entranced. 
“it was really nice seeing you tonight, y/n.” he finally spoke, turning to look at you across the small space of the car. your cheeks felt hot, but you smiled at him nonetheless. 
“yeah, I’m glad I got to see you, too,” you were shy now; a completely contrast to the way you were acting back at the party. you almost forgot about how you gave him a boner...the thought never really slipping your mind completely. 
no other words were spoken after that; the two of you just breathing softly and staring at each other in the darkness of the car. he slowly leaned forward over the center console, and you heart began palpitating as he grew closer, his lips finally touching yours as your eyes fluttered closed. 
it started off slow, innocent. his lips were as soft as you imagined, encasing your own as you both felt each other like this the first time. 
it quickly grew desperate, his tongue making its way into your mouth and battling with your own playfully, earning a squeak from you in response. 
“get over here,” he demanded, pulling back from your lips to help you over the console and into his lap for the second time that night. you whined at the loss of his mouth on yours, but weren’t complaining at the feeling of his crotch against your own. 
once seated in his lap you attached your lips once again, hungrily and greedily kissing him until you both were breathless. his hands traveled down to you ass, smoothing over each cheek as he trailed down to feel up your thighs. 
your back was scarily close to the steering wheel; one abrupt movement would cause the horn to sound off and draw attention to the two of you in the shadows of the quiet parking lot. he must have read your thoughts, because without even having to stop kissing you he reached down and pulled a lever, effectively moving the seat back to give you more room to wiggle about. 
you made out for a few minutes more, your hands running through his hair and occasionally tugging on it. your hips were grinding into his, small moans leaving the both of you at the feeling of the friction.
he abruptly pulled back, his hands moving to your waist and gripping you tightly. his eyes were dark and glossed over in the dull light, and you could just barely make out the redness of his swollen lips as he stared at you.
“turn around.” he said, no room for questions as he was already trying to move your body. you were confused at first, but once you turned around (you struggled for a good minute before actually achieving it), you knew almost immediately what he wanted to do. 
your back laid against his chest and your head was on his shoulder, your face in his neck as he quickly unbuttoned your pants and slid them down to your knees. you heard your phone clatter to the floor, but paid it no mind as he smoothed a hand up your shirt and back down over your stomach almost in a comforting way before his hand dove into your underwear. 
his fingers immediately found your clit, which not only astonished you, but also made you jolt at the sudden pleasure you were feeling. you tried to bite back a whimper but ultimately couldn’t fight it as it escaped your throat embarrassingly. 
the streetlight flickered off in the distance, almost to the same tempo as your frantically beating heart. you tried to use it as a distraction, to keep yourself grounded as he ran his fingers through your wetness lewdly. 
rendezvous at two played through the speakers, loud enough for you to recognize that the song being played was ‘play with me’. the song only heightened your pleasure, the melody entrancing your mind as you felt the first prod of his fingers at your entrance. 
you breathy moans didn’t cease as he eased them inside of you, immediately curling to spark a reaction from you. you squeaked and gripped his arm for support, you lips brushing against the skin of his neck every time you let out a broken moan. 
“you sound so fucking pretty, baby,” he groaned, building a rhythm as he fucked his fingers inside you faster, his other hand finding it’s way into your underwear to punish your clit. 
you practically screamed at the added pleasure, your legs squirming as best they could in the small space in front of you. your knee hit the bottom of the steering wheel, but you didn’t care; all you were focused on was the building climax forming in the pit of your stomach. 
all of your muscles were pulled tight, and at any moment the chord would snap inside of you and you would cum. any minute now…
“are you gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice breathless as he relentlessly worked you with his long  fingers. 
all you could do was nod desperately in response, your breath seizing as your toes curled in your shoes, a telltale sign that you were on the very edge. 
all it took was a small kiss on your forehead, mixed with the sensations on your lower half, for you to let go. you tried to muffle the sounds of your pleasure in the crook of his neck, but ultimately failed as your mind went blank and let out the noises against your will. 
he held you as you came, his fingers still slowly pumping into you to help you ride out the high. he stopped his assault on your clit, using his now free hand to soothe your shaking body. 
you had never cum like that. the earth shattering pleasure was a new feeling for you, and your body had a difficult time processing it all. 
you saw the hand he was using to please you reach up to meet his mouth, and you heard the telltale signs of him sucking your juices clean off his fingers. you couldn't really see it through your hazy eyes, but you shuddered pleasantly at the thought of it. 
after a minute of resting, you were able to pick your head up from his neck. you struggled to pull your pants back up to cover yourself, and donghyuck helped the best he could to situate you back in the passenger seat, chuckling softly at the sight of your visibly trembling thighs. 
he reached down to pick up your phone from the floor, handing it to you. you took it gently and breathed for a second before your eyes trailed to his own crotch. even in the dim light you could see the outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans. 
“let me…” you tentatively started, leaning over the middle console. “let me make you feel good too,” you peered up at him, his eyes finding yours for a split second before he got to work undoing his belt. 
his hands worked quickly to unbutton and pull the zipper down on his jeans, and he pulled the fabric down to his knees to the best of his ability in the cramped space. he pulled his boxers down with his pants, exposing his very hard cock to your prying eyes.
you leaned forward further over the console, resting your ribs down as you faced his dick straight on, your mouth already hovering over the tip. you felt the console press into your rib cage, resulting in a small aching sensation, but you paid it little mind as you wrapped one hand around the base of him. 
you held yourself up with one hand pressed against the bottom of his seat, propping your body up just enough so that you could tease his head with your tongue. 
you knew what you were doing in this case. just because you didn’t get much action didn’t mean that you were completely clueless.
long story short, you’ve given a few blowjobs in your day.
your hand moved up and down the shaft, the combined sensation of your tongue and grip causing a deep moan to escape from the depths of his chest, causing your legs to squeeze together despite your recent orgasm. 
you finally took him completely into you mouth, forcing yourself down as far as you could go. you felt his tip in your throat and you reflexively swallowed, causing him to almost outright scream at the sensation. 
his hand went to hold the back of your head, caressing it gently as he started guiding you up and down, his vocality spurring you on even further. you picked up the pace, your head moving quickly now as you ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft. 
your ribs were aching being pressed against the hard material of the console, but you tried your best to ignore it, only paying attention to the pretty sounds falling from donghyuck’s lips. in one swift movement, you took him all the way down to the base, your nose brushing against his skin as his cock filled up your flexing throat. 
he didn’t hold back then.
he started fucking into your mouth, both hands on your head as he quickly jutted his hips in and out of your throat. you didn’t complain, the tears and spit adorning your face only adding to the mess that was already present. you gagged around him, making unattractive noises, but in the end didn’t care as you could tell he was extremely close to his end. 
you did your best to breathe through your nose, and with one last move you went to play with his neglected balls, earning a strained grunt from him as he finally came. 
his hot cum immediately shot down your throat, and you welcomed it, knowing that this was the only way to avoid messing up his car. you swallowed it all, proud of yourself for being able to achieve that. 
you pulled your mouth off of him and sat back into your own seat, tenderly rubbing your ribs to rid yourself of the ache. 
he looked so beautiful now; his hair was a mess in his face and his breathing was ragged as he sat there, his lips parted ethereally as he panted. 
he didn’t have long to rest in the bliss of the afterglow, his phone blaring as he started receiving several text messages in a row. he grabbed his phone with one hand while he tucked himself back into his boxers with the other, unlocking his phone to read the messages on the screen. 
you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, wiping away any spit or cum that may have gotten on your face in the heat of the ordeal. you checked to make sure your pants were buttoned while he was preoccupied with whoever he was texting. 
“is everything alright?” you asked, noticing how his brow was furrowed in the dim glow of the phone screen. he nodded, typing out a short reply before locking his phone again. 
he shimmed his pants back up over his hips the best he could in the small space, re-buckling his belt and making sure his button and zipper were all closed before turning to look at you once more. 
“it’s just jaemin. he’s shitfaced right now,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I gotta go pick him up.” 
your eyes widened at the name, your heartbeat picking up a little as your brain worked to figure out exactly which jaemin he was referring to. 
“n-na jaemin..?” you hesitantly inquired, looking down at your lap and picking at your nails. when you didn’t get a response right away you looked up at him, a smirk on his lips as he watched you. 
“yeah,” he replied, relaxed in the driver's seat. “why?”
truth be told, na jaemin was the boy that took your virginity a couple months back. at the time, you weren’t aware that he was in the same frat as hyuck, nor did you know that they were friends. 
jaemin was a sweet and charming boy that you met at the start of your college career. he was a sweet talker, and eventually you ended up trusting him enough to sleep with him. he was very considerate and didn’t even act like he was a fratboy; taking care of you first and himself after. even though he was a sweet and giving lover, you couldn’t deny the fact that you weren’t interested in him romantically. 
you and jaemin weren’t on bad terms per say, but you avoided him at all costs the first couple weeks after having sex with him. it was a shitty thing to do on your part and you admit that but jaemin didn’t seemed fazed, but eventually told you that there was no reason to be embarrassed or to avoid him. after explaining how you felt about it all, he reassured you that he didn’t expect anything out of you and you were grateful for that. 
however, you weren’t prepared to tell hyuck that you had sex with jaemin after everything that just happened between the two of you tonight. 
“oh, uh, no reason,” you quickly stuttered, averting his gaze. “I think I had a class with him or something.” 
that wasn’t a total lie; you did have stat with jaemin in the first semester, so you used that to cover your tracks. 
hyuck hummed in response and you could still feel his eyes on you still, but you ignored it. clearing your throat, you placed your hand on the door handle and moved your body to get out. 
“uhm,” you breathed, hesitating for a second. “thanks, I guess. I’ll see you around, hyuck.” 
“see you,” he mumbled back, a small smile on his lips. “goodnight, y/n.” 
you nodded and bid him the same before crawling out of his car, making your way up to your apartment.  you immediately collapsed on your bed, face buried in your pillow as you screamed, your brain still trying to process what the actual fuck just happened.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
“you WHAT?” jeno yelled, grabbing your face in his hands while looking at you like a proud mother. “I can’t believe this, you actually sucked that man’s dick!” 
you shushed him aggressively, throwing his hands off of you and punching his shoulder. 
“will you shut the fuck up?” you said lowly, glaring at him. “I don’t want the whole goddamn campus knowing what I did this weekend, thanks.” 
okay yeah, you ignored both jeno and renjun’s attempts at asking you what happened at the party all weekend. to be fair, you were still trying to recover from the events and really didn’t feel like speaking to anyone about it, but the inevitable always prevails and here you were having to explain everything in the early hours of the morning. 
“but I’m so proud of you! renjun, help me out here,” jeno turned to renjun, who was sitting across from you both at the other side of the picnic table. 
he was fully immersed in a book he was reading, humming in response to jeno before picking his head up and actually speaking. 
“yeah we’re proud of you y/n, getting some or whatever,” he mumbled, fixing his glasses on his face. renjun blinked at the two of you as you watched him in silence, sniffling before returning to his book. 
jeno turned back to you, placing a hand on your head and letting you like a dog, much to your dismay. 
“now you just have to fuck him.” 
you grumbled at his statement, rolling your eyes. you didn’t want to just fuck him; you wanted to love him and care for him. you weren’t the type to just fuck around, especially not when it came to donghyuck. 
okay yeah, jaemin may have been the ONE exception, but even then it wasn’t like you were just fucking a random person. at least you knew jaemin. 
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” you retorted, pulling out your phone to check for any notifications. “I haven’t heard from him since Friday night.” 
it was now tuesday morning, and you had to drag your ass to an 8 a.m. lecture after the long weekend. honestly speaking, you were kinda expecting hyuck to actually reach out to you. it was a silly thing to think, looking back. he had his own priorities to worry about, and you were definitely not one of them. 
“I mean,” you continued, biting your lip. “I kinda feel guilty. everything happened because of that dumb dare.” you furrowed your brow, getting upset at the idea of hyuck finding out and being angry with you about the whole ordeal. 
you saw renjun’s head pop up once again in your peripheral vision, causing your attention to fall onto him. 
“there was free-will involved, y/n,” he stated, closing his book after placing a bookmark to keep his spot. “no one forced you to do it. sure, we gave you money, but at the end of the day it was your choice,” renjun looked you in the eyes as he spoke, his glasses falling down his nose. “don’t feel guilty. I don’t think hyuck will even care if he finds out that it was a dare to get you to sit on his lap.”
“he seemed to enjoy himself anyway, from what you’ve told us,” jeno butted in, snickering softly. 
mulling it over, you nodded. they did have a point; you didn’t solely do it just because it was a dare, you did it because deep inside yourself you knew you wanted to. you wanted his attention, and you definitely got more of it then you bargained for. 
“I guess you’re right…” you trailed off, biting your lip as you looked around the green field of your university's campus, taking in how crowded it was so early in the morning. one thought still nagged at your mind, however, cashing your anxiety to spike once again. 
“...do you guys think I should tell him about jaemin…?”
silence befell the table and you felt their eyes staring at you, making your skin crawl at the attention. 
“why would you need to tell him about that?” renjun inquired, his voice sounding soft in your ears. 
“well uh,” you licked your lips to wet them, suddenly feeling like you needed a whole tube of chapstick. “they’re friends, hyuck left to go pick him up that night.” 
the two boys both let out a small set of soft “oh”’s before going silent once again. 
“I think,” renjun spoke up, pausing for a second to think over the words he wanted to say. “I think that you should do whatever you feel is right.” 
you groaned at this, the vague statement not helping you in the slightest. renjun was quick to defend himself, making his voice heard immediately after hearing your grumbles. 
“I honestly think you should just confess to him, seriously!” he shouted, grabbing your attention easily. “and in the confession, you should just put everything out there. I don’t think he’ll be mad about anything, truly.” he licked his lips, blinking once before continuing. “hyuck really isn’t the type of guy to get angry about things like that, you of all people should know...considering you’ve been watching his every move for years.”
your eyes widened at the last statement, and jeno had to hold you back before you launched yourself across the table to beat the shit out of renjun. 
“don’t make me sound like such a creep, junnie!” you whined, wrestling yourself out of jeno’s hold before fixing your wrinkled clothes. 
renjun sighed before picking up the book in front of him, looking into your eyes sincerely as he stood up from the bench he was seated on. 
“just think about what I said, alright?” was the only thing he said before walking off, leaving you alone with jeno to think about your course of action. you nodded to yourself, trying to get your thoughts in order so you could figure out exactly what the fuck you were going to do.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
two days later, you and jeno walked into the library, the weather outside breezy as you threw open the doors and ran inside. you giggled loudly to each other, stumbling and not even caring that other students were glaring in your direction. 
you came to study, but knowing how jeno liked to work, you most likely would end up goofing off the entire time, which was seriously counterproductive. 
the two of you made your way up the second level, hoping that there were less people so that you wouldn’t disturb them while they studied. jeno was a clown and there was no controlling him once he started messing about. 
“so,” he began, walking side by side with you up the stairs. “have you thought any further about what you’re gonna do regarding the hyuck situation?”
your eyes widened at the question, your steps faltering slightly as you reached the second floor. 
“what do you mean?” you shot back, trying to keep your voice down as you made your way to a table. jeno scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.
“don’t play dumb. are you gonna tell him that you slept with jaemin?” jeno’s voice was incredibly way too loud for the library setting, and your eyes practically bulged out of your head when his words registered in your brain. 
your first instinct was to hit him, but you stopped short when you noticed another person was currently sharing the small space with you. 
oh god. 
it was donghyuck. 
“you slept with jaemin?” hyuck questioned, the sound his voice after two weeks of not talking to you making you jump in surprise. 
you hadn’t know he was there; hiding in the corner of the room with a textbook in hand, his hair fluffy and slightly messy as he looked at you inquisitively. jeno stood silently at your side, not making any moves to save you from hyuck’s gaze or question. 
“uhm,” you breathed, a soft sound escaping your nose. “y-yeah like...like in november...so,” you coughed, rubbing your eyes as if trying to rid yourself of the stress you felt underneath them. “a long time ago.” 
it was may now, the end of the semester quickly approaching in the next week. finals consumed everyone, and hyuck wasn’t an exception. 
“oh,” he commented back, tearing his eyes from you to look back at the book in his hands. “he never mentioned it.” 
you hummed in response, wanting to actually turn to dust and escape this horribly awkward moment. you didn’t know what came over you, but suddenly a surge of confidence ran through you, albeit a little weak, but still there nonetheless. 
“are you…” you started, shocking yourself and jeno beside you, his facial expression visible in your periphery. “are you mad about it?” 
donghyuck looked at you once again, making your confidence completely disappear to be replaced with embarrassment yet again. his eyes were dark as they bore into yours, almost like he was looking through you and into your very soul. you felt as if you were in a trance; like he was hypnotizing you with his stare. 
“honestly?” he broke the silence, “I’m not mad, a little jealous though, maybe.” he said it so nonchalantly that it took you aback, your knees trembling a bit causing you to step into jeno. a small smirk crept into his face for a mere second, before it disappeared. “I know you’re not doing anything with him now, considering he has an...arrangement with someone else.” 
“o-oh,” you squeaked, your mouth slightly agape as he continued to speak. “yeah, we d-don’t uh, we don’t talk really anymore.” 
hyuck smiled at your stuttering, his hands moving to close the textbook in his hold. he placed it under his arm as he stood, coming closer to you and jeno. 
“good.” he murmured, before walking down the steps and out the front door, leaving you in awe as you processed the word that fell from his lips. 
jeno didn’t give you time to breath before he gripped your shoulders, turning your body to face him. 
“dude, he was fucking jealous!!” jeno screeched, earning a chorus of various angry shushes from other students in the library. your body felt hot as you tried to make sense of what just happened, your eyes widening as it finally hit you. 
“he...do you think he likes me too?” you ask, not really expecting an answer. you wanted so desperately for donghyuck to like you back, and not just be jealous that jaemin fucked you and he didn’t. 
“here’s hoping,” jeno replied, his hand patting your head. “there’s a really good chance. you guys seriously need to talk it out and stop avoiding each other.” 
you nodded along with his words, still awestruck and struggling to process what the hell was going on. it felt childish to have these feelings, considering you were a grown woman in college, but you couldn’t help it. you wanted to know if he liked you too, and you were almost at the point of just breaking down and confessing to donghyuck how you felt. 
“maybe talk to him,” you suggested, now picking at your nails, a habit you’ve seemed to picked up recently due to your constant nervous energy. “see if you can get him to come to me first.” 
it sounded weird, but you were sure you wouldn’t have the willpower or self assurance to confront hyuck yourself. you needed him to come to you. 
“alright, I’ll see what I can do.” jeno beamed, giving you a small hug despite your grumbling. “text me later, okay?” 
you nodded offhandedly and he let you go, smiling once more before bounding out the same doors hyuck disappeared out of just minutes ago. 
you sighed to yourself, sliding down into one of the wooden chairs provided in the library. you slung you’re bag down and it hit the floor with a thump, your books heavy enough to probably bench. 
taking out your psych book, you threw it on the table before slamming your forehead against the wood.
you were fucked, most definitely fucked.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
the fiasco in the library happened a long five days ago, and you were practically dying with the amount of stress you felt. 
your finals quickly passed and you were incredibly happy that they were over, even though you didn’t feel as confident as you probably should have taking them. 
now you were busy just anxiously cleaning your apartment, not really having anything better to do with yourself now that classes were over for the semester. 
you hadn’t heard anything from jeno about what he said in the library regarding talking to donghyuck, and just as you were pondering if he actually would do something like that for you, your phone buzzed. 
from jeno 04:15:32 p.m.
I finally talked to hyuck for you, btw
from jeno 04:15:49 p.m.
he’s on his way to your place, make sure to let him in ;)
your heart dropped into your ass as you read the message, your pulse jumping and fastening with each word you processed in your head. you were quick to type a reply with your cold and shaking fingers, not giving a shit about typos. 
to jeno 04:16:27 p.m. 
HWAT DID YOU SAY TO HIM YOU FUCKRER
the line went dead for a few minutes, your mind reeling at the possibilities of what jeno could have possibly told hyuck. to make matters even worse for you, hyuck was on his way to your apartment, and you were even more anxious awaiting his arrival. was he going to let you down gently? was he going to scold you about the dare? you picked at your nails and felt like you were going to faint on the spot. 
from jeno 04:19:59 p.m.
I didn’t tell him ab the dare. have fun princess ;)
to jeno 04:20:15 p.m. 
I hate you
you quickly turned your phone off after that, not wanting to read any more messages from that cursed man. you weren’t sure how much time you had to make yourself seem presentable; you figured you should at least fix yourself a little bit, considering you would be facing hyuck. the sweatpants and old t-shirt you worse screamed at you to be changed, but just as you were about to head to your room to look for something better to wear, a soft knock came from your front door. 
oh god. it's definitely him, you thought to yourself, lightly slapping yourself on your cheek before shakily making your way to the door. you let out a heavy breath before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it, opening the door toward yourself and revealing the man you had been anticipating directly before you. 
you cursed internally at how amazing he looked; light wash ripped jeans (the holes were VERY distracting) paired with white sneakers and a white adidas t-shirt. to top it all off, he had the audacity to wear a black leather jacket on top, making you weak in the knees. it was simple, really, but even the most basic clothes could shine on donghyuck, making him look like a model no matter what. 
his hair was messy, most like from the wind outside, but it didn’t look bad at all. it gave him a ruggedly handsome look, and you had to keep yourself from staring at him for too long. 
he smiled at you softly, bowing his head as a greeting before you stepped aside and let him in. he walked inside slowly, moving around your body to make his way into the foyer. he removed his shoes and placed them by the door neatly, not speaking as he did so. hyuck didn’t sit and neither did you; the both of you just staring at each other in vast silence. he opened his mouth but you beat him to it, speaking up before he could even utter a single syllable. 
“before you say anything, I have to tell you the truth about what happened at that party.” you said confidently, trying to hold onto that facade for just a little bit longer as you subtly examined his exquisite features. he closed his mouth, nodding at you as a way to urge you to continue. his eyes flashed with slight confusion, but he complied nonetheless. 
“it was….” you began, playing with the sleeves of your long sleeved sleep shirt. “it started with a dare, hyuck.” 
his eyebrows raised, his eyes boring into yours as you both stood in the middle of your apartment. 
“a dare.” he stated flat out, his voice monotonous as he took in your slightly quivering figure. 
“it was a double dog dare, okay? b-but,” you began to stutter, losing your composure as he watched you in front of him, his face stoic. “it started that way but I swear to you hyuck I wanted every single minute of what happened that night.” 
he stayed silent for a second, his eyes never leaving yours as he played with the hem of his t-shirt. hyuck looked away for a split second, his gaze trailing out the window as he sighed. 
“I’m not mad, y/n.” he finally said, his attention now back to you. “I’m glad you told me...but, I mean, I could tell that you liked what was happening that night, if I’m being completely honest.” his signature smirk creeped up on his lips ever so slightly, and that, combined with his response, had you baffled. 
“if anything,” he started again, coming closer to where you stood. “that dare pushed us in the right direction, so how could I be mad?” 
you tore your eyes away from him, looking down at the carpet once again, shyly rocking back and forth on your heels. you didn’t want to assume what he was insinuating, pondering over what he meant by it pushing the two of you in ‘the right direction.’ you sucked in a deep breath before taking a leap of faith, preparing to blurt out your attraction toward him. 
“look dude...I-I like you, alright?” you muttered, moving your hand up so you could rub your eyes, your shyness evident in your body language and tone. 
donghyuck stood in front of you, an amused look on his face as he watched you confess. 
“I kinda gathered that, y/n.” he replied, biting his lip to keep himself from smiling. “I mean, I figured you had to at least be attracted to me a little bit, you let me fingerfuck you in my car, so like—“ 
you screeched and jumped at him to cover his mouth, failing as he dodged you with ease. he full out laughed then, catching you by your arms and pulling you close. donghyuck forced you to his chest, hugging you tightly as you wriggled in his grasp. 
“stop squirming idiot,” he scolded, resting his head against your own. “I like you too. that’s what I came here to tell you.” 
you couldn’t believe your ears. in reality, you assumed he felt some sort of attraction to you; with the way he spoke to you in his car that night and the way he watched you come undone around his fingers should have been some sort of clear indication...but you were pretty oblivious to begin with so it was no surprise that you completely missed the signs. 
“jeno kinda gave me stern talking to.” he added, smiling. 
“so we’re both stupid, then,” you pulled back to look at him, a small smile on his lips and a similar one on yours. “did we really both think it was just a one time thing?” you commented offhandedly, not entirely realizing what you were implying. 
his eyes glinted with a hint of mischief, changing suddenly from the way they sparkled two seconds ago. 
“so it wasn’t a one time thing?” he asked teasingly, running his hands down your arms to then rest on your waist. “I get to see you come undone again, right? you looked so pretty.”
you wanted to push him away and scold him for only thinking about sex, but you couldn’t help but grow hot at the indication of him making you feel good...with other parts of his body that weren’t his fingers…
when you audibly whimpered you saw a smirk grow on his lips, his eyes dark as he took in the look of your innocent eyes staring back at him. 
“is that a yes, sweetheart?” 
you practically melted at the sultry tone of his voice, your knees weakening and your eyes fighting to not roll back into your head at the thought of what he wanted to do to you. you shakily nodded, ripping your eyes from his own as you bit your lip in anticipation as you found something in your room to stare at that wasn’t his gorgeous face. you heard him hum in response, the deep noise immediately causing your stomach to do back flips. 
“my pretty little girl can’t talk now, can she?” his teasing questions had your heart fluttering, and when his hand found itself on your throat, you eyes widened as you returned your gaze to him. “I wanna hear you say it.” 
he was applying absolutely no pressure on your throat, but the act of dominance still hit you full force regardless. it was almost a threat, as little as it was, and it turned you on to no end. 
you couldn’t find your voice, everything feeling like it was jammed up in the very back of your throat. you wanted to say so many things, but then again didn’t want to feel the embarrassment that came with them. you could see his patience was thinning, his smirk dropping and his eyes darkening even more, of that was even possible. 
his straight and stoic face was probably the scariest thing you have ever seen. 
“I’m waiting, y/n.” his voice came out strong, demanding, and oozing authority. you brain short circuited, your lips parting and closing as you tried to form the right words to please him. 
“y-you..” you started, struggling to formulate the correct sounds to speak, “y-you get to see me c-cum again,” you were trying so hard to maintain eye contact with him, and you added, “I w-want you to make m-me cum a-again…” 
he hummed in response, smiling at you and taking in your figure with his dark eyes. 
“mm, good.” his hand moved from your throat to the back of your head, bringing your face to meet his own as hips lips crashed against yours tightly. 
you squeaked in surprise but immediately allows your hands to meet his hair, threading through his soft locks without a care in the world. it felt amazing to be kissing him again, the feeling of his lips on your own a feeling that was indescribable. 
his hands were all over you; his right moving from your head down your back down to your ass where he squeezed playfully, earning a small gasp from you. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, the both of you sighing contently as you continued to make out. 
his left hand rested on your waist, gliding up and down your side in slow swipes. you began to trudge backward, blinding leading him the hallway to your bedroom. 
his lips never disconnected from yours; the sheer desperate need you both felt was too overwhelming to part with each other. your grip in his hair turned tight as you finally stepped foot in your small room, and as soon as the door slammed shut behind the two of you, he had you pressed against the nearest wall. 
he didn’t waste any time removing your shirt from your body, throwing it across the room not caring where it landed. his shirt quickly followed, and after throwing it to land with your own he didn’t hesitate to rip your sweatpants down your legs and off of you. 
his eyes widened at your bare form; going both braless and pantieless in the safety of your own home was common for you. normally you would have shied away from his gaze, but something inside his eyes made you feel confident as he drank in the sight of you. 
you snapped him out of it when you reached for his belt, effectively undoing it along with the button and zipper of his jeans, tearing them off his legs (taking his socks with them) like he had just done with your pants. 
standing completely naked before each other, you had about a second to breathe before he was on you again, his lips attacking your neck as he trailed his right hand down your stomach slowly to the apex between your legs. 
you moaned at the feeling of his teeth nibbling the skin of your throat, but out right squealed when you felt his fingers brush against your embarrassingly sensitive clit. you cursed him for being able to get you so worked up without doing anything. 
he continued to play with your clit, occasionally dipping down your folds to meet your impressively wet center. he hummed in satisfaction when he felt the wetness of you, circling his fingers around your clenching hole. 
“remember these, princess?” he questioned darkly, teasing you with two fingers before shoving them completely inside your dripping core. hyuck stretched you out just like that; scissoring his pointer and middle fingers inside you to open you up nice for him. 
you gripped his arms tightly, throwing your head back against the wall in pleasure with a loud thump. in any other circumstance you probably would have complained about the pain that was now throbbing slightly on the back of your head, but right now you absolutely did not care. hyuck didn’t comment on it either, continuing his assault on your pussy like his life depended on it. 
the squelching of his fingers thrusting up into you was a little embarrassing but you tried to ignore it; you only wanted to focus on how deep he was able to shove his long fingers into you. 
without warning he ripped his fingers from your heat, sucking on them just like he did in the car the last time you two were together. you had no time to revel in the way his lips surrounded his fingers before you were swiftly turned around, your face pressing into the coolness of the wall in front of you. 
you allowed him to move you, basking in the delightfulness of being manhandled the way that you were. a small smile graced your lips for a second, but quickly fell as you gasped at the feeling of his incredibly hard cock between your legs. 
having that part of him be so close but not close enough had your eyes stinging, your mouth ready to open and begin begging for him to bury himself inside you with no room to move. 
“oh god,” you sniffled, holding back tears as he ran his length up and down your wet heat. “‘m gonna cry..” 
“then cry,” he laughed, pushing inside you without any warning, causing your breath to hitch. “I’m not stopping you.”
you let your tears spill freely, the feeling of his cock filling you up not allowing you to hold them in any longer. he pressed deep into you, your body completely trapped between his and the wall, the strength of his hips effectively holding you there as he slowly grinded his cock into you. 
“dear god, your pussy is so tight,” he growled, his mouth nipping at the tip of your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as you walls involuntarily clenched at his dirty words. “fuck, stop clenching, baby,” 
“i c-can’t,” you whined, hot tears still falling from your eyes as you turned your head the farthest it could go to try to see him. “it f-feels t-too good,” 
“did jaemin make you feel this good?” he growled out the question, his grip on your hips tightening as he finally began thrusting. 
the sudden bringing up of jaemin had your mind shocked for a second, but at this point you knew better to ignore hyuck when he was talking to you, so you  scrambled to answer. 
“n-no!” you squeaked, the force of his thrusts causing your brain to go numb. “only you, h-hyuck—oh god— only you.” 
he grunted contently in response, picking up the pace of his hips. he was hitting hard and deep inside you, his nails digging into the skin of your hips as he continued to annihilate you. 
your own nails were scratching at the wall, trying desperately to latch onto anything that would keep you upright and save you from crumbling to the ground. one of his hands left your hip to slide down to your clit, making you jolt as he suddenly grabbed the nub and rolled it between his fingers. 
you practically screamed at the pleasure, your hips moving back against his on their own accord. he moaned along with you, your sounds creating a symphony that you hoped your neighbors didn’t hear. 
hyuck gave you a few more bone shattering thrusts before pulling out of you completely. you didn’t have time to be confused before he turned you around to face him, his eyes dark as he guided you to lay down on your bed. 
“I want to see your face, beautiful.” he simply said, lightly pushing you down onto your back before climbing on top of you to enter you once again. 
he didn’t waste a single second, lining up his angry red cock with your dripping and throbbing pussy, pushing in easily and fucking you like an animal. 
you looked into his eyes, a small intimate moment you latched onto as your hands gripped his shoulders. he looked so beautiful; well, as beautiful as he could while he was pile-driving you into your creaky mattress. 
his lips parted with small grunts, his hands moving up and down your waist. he snuck a hand down your tummy once again, meeting your over-sensitive nub with his fingers and completely ruining you with just a few small flicks. 
“a-ah!” you squeaked helplessly, trying to move your hands to stop his sudden assault on your clit. “d-don’t do that! it’ll make me cum,” 
hyuck smiled down at you, his eyes dark as he watched your face change and scrunch up with every circle of his fingers. “that’s the goal, isn’t it?” 
you whined at the pressure, your eyes squeezing shit as your felt your high very quickly approaching. your walls clenched around him tightly and his hips stuttered, giving you the indication that he was right there with you. 
“fuck baby,” he groaned, his hips pistoning in and out of you, losing their rhythm as he climbed higher and higher in his pleasure. “let me cum inside, please,”
he was begging now, something you never thought you would hear him do in all the years you’ve known him. you whined at the thought of his hot cum filling you up, and with a small nod and a quiet “yes, please”, he was cumming inside you. 
you came not too long after, the feeling of his powerful thrusts as he came mixed with the friction on you clit too much. your walls clamped down on his cock like a vice, causing him to whimper as he continued to pump you full. 
after a few minutes and a few lazy kisses, he pulled out of you and watched the mess of cum slowly drip out before laying down, completely exhausted. 
you laid together side by side, the only sounds heard were those of your heavy breaths panting in the small bedroom. you let your eyes fall to the side, eyeing him up as he bathed in the afterglow of his orgasm.
“so you really were jealous of jaemin, huh?” you teased lightly, your voice weak from overuse as you brought up his comment from earlier. 
he opened one eye to glance back at you, a small rumble sounding through his chest as he chuckled in response. 
“yeah, I don’t lie, y/n.” he simply stated before closing his eye again and resuming his relaxation. you smiled to yourself, moving to cuddle into his side. his arms moved to wrap around you, pulling your sweaty bodies closer together. 
you most likely would have complained at the stickiness of your skin pressing together, but with hyuck, everything just felt so right. 
you could endure it a little while longer, as long as you got to be by his side.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
it has been half a year since you and donghyuck had gotten together officially, and it had to have been the greatest six months of your existence by far. being with hyuck felt like a dream, and sometimes you had to pinch yourself just to make sure you weren’t asleep, conjuring this all up in your head. 
he was a frequent visitor at your apartment; sometimes (almost always) he’d stay the night and you were able to have the satisfaction of waking up next to him in the morning. it was almost unfair how good he seemed to look no matter what time of day it was. 
like now, he was set at the kitchen stove, cooking you both dinner as you sat yourself down at the kitchen table. you rested your chin on your hand as you watched him, the golden sunlight coming in through the window and gracing his perfect skin. even though it was getting into the chilly weather of november, the sun still liked to make its appearance known every now and again, almost like it was called to shine on hyuck whenever it could. 
you couldn’t help but smile as you heard a small tune being hummed by your boyfriend, his head bobbing as he walked to the fridge to grab an ingredient he forgot about. he caught your eye, smiling back at you while cocking his head inquisitively.
“you okay, baby?” he asked, closing the door of the fridge and looking at you completely. there was a teasing vibe in his tone, making you feel slightly warm as he stared at you.
you only merely nodded, getting up from where you were seated to make your way to him in the middle of the kitchen. 
“hey hyuck?” you murmured lowly, your voice light and sweet as you finally reached him. he looked at you, placing the forgotten ingredient down on the counter to wrap both of his arms around your waist as you got closer to him. you reciprocated that action, throwing your arms haphazardly around the back of his neck while staring into his honey-filled eyes. 
he waited for you to continue, nodding his head in acknowledgement as he listened. 
you were quiet for a moment before humming to yourself, finally gathering the courage to speak. 
“I double dog dare you to tell me you love me.” you whispered, your face moving closer to his as you brushed your lips together softly. it was a cheesy thing to say, but you owned it and felt a slight flutter in your heart as he smiled and laughed against your lips. 
hyuck kisses you fully then, capturing your lips in your own in a kiss full of love and devotion. it felt different than before...but it was a good different. a different that was difficult to describe with just words alone. 
he pulled back to look at you, fondness evident on his features and you were sure your own face mirrored his. 
“I love you, y/n.” he said, his voice not wavering in the slightest as he confessed it to you.
when you shyly spoke the same words back to him he wrapped you up even tighter in his arms and kissed you again, the happy feeling never fading even as you smelled the food burning on the stove. 
it couldn’t get any better than this...and it was crazy to think that it all started with a dare.
3K notes · View notes
luvdsc · a year ago
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mark lee sucks at technology.
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tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!
pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.
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In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.
Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 
Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.
Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.
The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.
“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”
His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.
“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.
“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”
His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”
“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”
You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.
“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”
“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.
You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.
You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.
“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”
“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”
Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).
“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.
“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.
“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”
“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.
“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”
“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”
The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.
“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.
“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.
“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”
“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.
“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”
“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”
“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).
“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 
You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.
“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”
“No cookie?”
“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”
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Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.
Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.
After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 
Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”
“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”
Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”
His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”
By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.
As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.
“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.
“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”
“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.
“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”
“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.
When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).
“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”
“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).
“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.
“... No.”
You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”
Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.
Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.
After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?
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Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 
Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.
However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.
You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.
“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”
“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”
“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”
“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”
Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”
“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”
“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.
“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.
“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”
Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”
He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.
And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.
You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.
“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 
“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”
“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”
“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”
“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”
You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.
You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”
Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”
You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”
Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”
You take a deep breath. “This.”
You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.
A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”
You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”
“Definitely not.”
This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.
When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.
“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.
“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.
“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.
“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.
“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”
When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”
“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”
“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.
“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.
“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.
“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.
“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:
“Can we do number three again?”
“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”
He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.
At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?
Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.
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One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!
moominjun commented:
so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?
donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧
nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖
goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴
morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck
tytrack commented:
mark is going through puberty. I apologize
dobunny replied: @.@
goofys.chuckle commented:
are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?
morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????
goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀
showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?
goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺
showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???
moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO
goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊
jenojam commented:
why am I not surprised……
itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉
suhprisemf commented:
mark your head looks flat af
jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂
10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry
letswonwon commented:
whoop whoop
junguwu commented:
OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍
takoyaki_prince commented:
MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘
jisungpwark commented:
rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻
bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔
peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺
yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️
donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔
morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????
officialgordonramsay commented:
didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
2K notes · View notes
mistymark · a year ago
Text
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.
[Silence.]
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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.
[Now?]
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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2K notes · View notes
jeongvision · 9 months ago
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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.
“Suck.”
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.”
2K notes · View notes
kwanisms · a year ago
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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 are.you 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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jaehyunhour · 2 years ago
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the breakfast club | masterlist
social media!au, art student!jaehyun college AU.
summary: in which you have to write a short film for one of your classes and somehow end up falling in love.
pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader.
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*completed. chapters with mature content marked with ☽. 
intro 1 | intro 2 | intro 3
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven |
eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen
fourteen | fifteen | sixteen | seventeen
eighteen | nineteen | twenty☽ | twenty-one
twenty-two | twenty-three☽ | twenty-four
twenty-five | twenty-six | twenty-seven
twenty-eight | twenty-nine | thirty
thirty-one | thirty-two
epilogue 1 | epilogue 2 | epilogue 3
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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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“B-Babe..”
“Hm?”
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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ppangjae · a year ago
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ordinary people | j.jaehyun
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Summary | Jaehyun’s parents are coming home for Christmas and he may have made the biggest mistake of telling them he has a ‘girlfriend’. Insert you, his best friend, who so happens to be the only girl he knows and trusts. You, on the other hand, would have never expected Jaehyun to show up at your door at two in the morning with nothing but a proposition; to be his fake girlfriend. And man, are you in big trouble.
Genre | fluff, angst, slow burn, fake dating!au + friends to lovers!au + ceo!jaehyun (because why TF not??)
Word Count | 18.3k+ words (oof almost made it to the estimated count of ~20k)
Warnings | lots of bickering!
author’s note: it’s finally here! this took longer than i had initially thought, but i’m just glad that it’s done. this is literally the first one shot on this blog, so let’s make it official :-) 
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It's an early Sunday morning when Jung Jaehyun shows up at your door. There's an unusual feeling in your gut for he shows up in casual clothing. His usual business attire is replaced with a loose black hoodie and a pair of jeans. He also shows up with a lopsided smile spread across his lips, a smile that you know so well and what it truly meant. But you're too tired to even bother. 
"Hey," he greets you, and you lean against the door-frame to look up at him with a questioning gaze. "Can I come in?"
You glare at him. "It better be worth my time, Jaehyun. It's two in the morning and do you know what my eyes are begging me to do? Yes, that's right, sleep."
"I won't take too much of your time, I promise." He reassures you and you squint your eyes at him before moving aside to let him in.
He makes his way inside your apartment, entering into your small living room to take a seat on your couch. At this point, the sleep in your eyes have been rubbed away and you begin to notice his unusual behavior. You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. 
"Wait, first of all, why are looking at me like that?" You question while folding your arms.
He scratches the back of his neck, confessing, "I may have made a big mistake."
"You jeopardized your company?" You blurt out with eyes wide like saucers. Now you're really awake. Jaehyun panics, vigorously shaking his head. 
"What? No! Of course I wouldn't do that! My parents would kill me!" He exclaims and you sigh with relief. "Just listen to me first, now would you?"
You take this as an opportunity to take a seat beside him. As he watches you get comfortable on the couch with him, he winces to himself. Once he tells you what he's done, he knows for a fact that you'll be cussing him out. 
"My parents are coming home for Christmas," he begins and your face softens.
"Aw, that's so sweet of them, you get to spend Christmas together—"
"And I may have told them that I have a girlfriend." He interrupts you. The both of you stare at each other for a couple of seconds before you let out a snort. 
"But—But you don't have a girlfriend." You stifle a giggle, but when he lets out a frustrated groan, you burst out into laughter. 
He whines, begging you to stop laughing at him. "It's not funny!"
Your laughter dies down and you grow confused. "Wait, but why are you telling me this now? You could've told me this through text—"
It then hits you. You eat up your words and stop mid-sentence. Jaehyun looks at you with a nervous smile. His hands are clammy and sweaty out of nervousness. 
"That's the problem. First of all, I don't have a girlfriend. Second of all, I told my parents that I have a girlfriend. And last but not the least—"
"They're coming home for Christmas and they want to meet your supposed girlfriend." You finish it off for him, and he claps his hands together. 
"Bingo!" He exclaims until he falls hesitantly silent. He glances at you sheepishly. "So, do you want to be my fake girlfriend?"
"Huh? No!" You get up from the couch, looking down at him as if he's gone insane. "Do you think they're going to believe you? They know me as your best friend, your childhood best friend, and not as your girlfriend!"
"But you're the only one I trust!" He pouts. You shake your head. "Come on, Y/N, it'll only be for a couple of weeks—"
"No." You cut him off. "Find someone else, Jaehyun. They're not going to believe you—"
"Y/N, please?" He begs you with those puppy eyes and you tear your eyes away from him. Those eyes always get the best of you, but this time, you're not going to let them work its magic. "Please?"
"Jung Yoonoh," you raise an eyebrow. You shake your head. He frowns. Whenever you call him by his name, he knows that you're serious. "No. It's final."
He sighs in defeat. "Okay, fine, I understand. I guess I'll just make something up somehow."
"Yes, you sure will." You fold your arms. "Besides, it shouldn't be that hard finding someone, right? You're a CEO, shouldn't be hard. Ask your secretary, I'm sure she'll say yes without hesitation."
He whines while you try to push him out the door. As he digs his socked feet to the floor, the force of you pushing him is causing him to slide across the whole apartment. 
"You say that like it's the easiest thing to do."
"Trust me, it'll be easy finding someone." You finally push him towards the door. With defeat, he opens the door and steps out of your apartment himself. He turns around to face you and give you those same puppy eyes. You shake your head for the nth time. "I'm not going to give in, Jaehyun."
As the door begins to close on him, he starts sputtering out offers. Offers such as doing your laundry for a whole year, paying your groceries for a year, and the list goes on and on. You shake your head but he doesn't give up. He starts getting down on his knees and you can't help but break out into a smile. He pouts cutely, but your smile immediately vanishes from your face. 
"You'll figure something out, Jaehyun. But I'm sorry, it's a no from me."
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“He asked you to be his what?”
Johnny looks at you with shock and you almost choke on your own spit. It takes a couple of seconds for him to let it sink in, but when it does, he places his face in his hands. He’s not sure if he should feel shocked or confused, but it was definitely something in between those two emotions.
At first, Johnny thought that you had asked to meet up at a cafe to catch up on each other’s lives. But he didn’t expect this. Never this.
“Yeah, shocking, I know.” You chuckle, raising your hot, steaming cup of tea to take a sip.
Ironic. The only tea that Johnny’s sipping on is the fact that Jung Jaehyun had asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend. The idea itself had two red warning lights flashing right at him.
“But are you going to do it?” He asks. “Will you be his fake girlfriend for the holidays?”
“Nope.” You pop the ‘p’, and he frowns. You tilt your head, not expecting that reaction from him. “But why do you look sad? Did you want me to do it?”
“Would it be bad if I said yes?” He grins and you send him a death glare. He raises his hands up in defense.
“You know my feelings for him. You’re the only one that knows.” You lean your back against the chair to look out the window. You let out a sigh. “And that’s exactly why I chose not to do it.”
Johnny flashes you a sad smile before shoving the last piece of his muffin into his mouth. You tear your gaze away from the window to look back at him. “I would do the same thing if I were in your shoes, Y/N.”
“Being his fake girlfriend is the closest thing to being his real girlfriend. And with the feelings I have for him—I know that it’s not a good idea.” You shake your head in dismay. “I’m afraid that I’ll only end up hurting myself. All my dreams and what ifs would happen and come true, and I’ll mistake them for being real when they’re not.”
“But have you considered the fact that doing it will give you the chance to tell him how you truly feel for him?”
The question makes you stop. You glance at Johnny. He can see the gears turning in your head. You look down and stare at your cup of tea to contemplate.
For almost half of your existence, you’ve been pining after your best friend. Jung Jaehyun, your childhood best friend that has struck the chords of your heart. But these harbored feelings you have for him remain harbored. It’s all because you can’t bring yourself to confessing. Sometimes you’d get peaks of confidence and courage, where it almost pushes you to confess. But what holds you back is the feeling of doubt, and those spikes of courage and confidence vanish away. You’re Jaehyun’s best friend, and there’s absolutely no way that he sees you as more than that.
But Johnny has a point. If this gave you the opportunity to tell Jaehyun how you truly feel for him, then things might work out. It was killing two birds with one stone; Jaehyun’s parents will believe the act you both pull off and you’ll finally confess your feelings. But why did you feel afraid? Why do you feel like something is holding you back?
“I can’t do it.” You shrug off your thoughts. “His parents won’t believe that I’m his girlfriend. Jaehyun will only embarrass himself.”
“I don’t think so,” Johnny mumbles.
“What makes you think that?”
“If I were Jaehyun’s parents, I’d love it if his girlfriend ended up being his childhood best friend.” He shrugs his shoulders. “In fact, it makes it more believable.”
“How?”
“Because you both know each other inside out. You both share the same tastes, hobbies, everything. You’re best friends for a reason, Y/N. No, you’re practically soulmates. His parents would be more comfortable and relieved knowing that you’re his girlfriend.” He explains and you fall silent.
The both of you sit in the booth in silence. The cafe is busy and noisy with baristas working espresso machines and customers loudly chattering away.
Johnny had valid points. At the same time, images of Jaehyun’s puppy eyes start flooding your mind. You were starting to feel nothing but guilt. But you also had valid reasons. One, you don’t want to do anything that goes outside the best friend barrier because it’ll only hurt you. Two, you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. And three, he could just find someone else to do it, it was simple.
But why was this starting to bother you? Why was this making you think everything over for the second time?”
“Listen, Y/N, this is what I think you should do.” He places his hand over yours, giving you a reassuring look. “Try it out. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks. Besides, you’re the only one Jaehyun knows and trusts. This will help him. It shouldn’t do much harm, right?”
“But what if I ended up telling him? And what if I only get hurt in the end?”
He flashes you a small smile. “The last thing Jaehyun would want is to hurt you.”
You both stare at each other. He looks at you with hope and you look back at him with doubt. You sigh, retreating your hand from his.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I feel guilty!”
And boy, were you in huge trouble.
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"Look who we have here."
You glare at Jaehyun. It was your turn to show up at the door of his mansion. But this time, you were a bit more considerate than he was and showed up at a more appropriate time. Jaehyun moves aside to let you into his mansion.
"I'm not going to be here for long," you frown. "I just wanted to tell you something."
“You don't want to come inside and have a cup of coffee?" He grins.
"Jaehyun, I really don't have the time to make jokes—"
"Maybe have a snack?" He teases.
"Jaehyun," you whine.
"Alright, fine." He smiles, gesturing for you to continue. You let out a huff of breath, squinting your eyes at him.
"I'll do it." You mutter. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
"Do what?"
"I'll be your fake girlfriend." You say just a bit more louder than a mutter. He leans in.
"Sorry, what was that?" He teases as a smirk appears on his lips. Oh, how you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face.
"I said," you begin before pinching his cheeks. "I'll be your fake girlfriend!"
He groans in pain, grabbing your wrists and prying your hands away from his face. He looks at you like a child who got his present earlier before Christmas. You're immediately caught off guard when he pulls you into an embrace. The beat of your heart momentarily slows down before it picks up its pace.
The moment is cut short when Jaehyun's phone starts to ring. The two of you pull away from the hug and he fishes his phone from his pocket. He quickly excuses himself to answer the phone call while gesturing for you to come into his mansion.
As you step inside, you look around Jaehyun's mansion. There's a large chandelier hanging from the high ceiling made out of marble. On the walls going up the staircase are pictures of Jaehyun as a child, and Jaehyun with his parents. Along with the pictures are shelves carrying awards Jaehyun had won at school. 
You smile to yourself. Although Jaehyun is dripping in luxury and riches, he's never been poisoned by it. He's still the same Jaehyun you met when you were still a kid. He's still the same Jaehyun who is humble and grateful for his blessings. 
You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Jaehyun calling out your name. Turning towards him, it looks like he's just got done with his phone call. 
"You came at the right time." He smiles. "I need you to pack your bags."
"Pack my bags?" He hums in reply. "Why? For what?"
"We're flying out to Milan at six," he says it as if it was nothing to him. You stare at him, mouth agape in shock. He notices that you haven't budged a bit. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Did you just tell me to pack my things because we're going to Milan in a couple of hours?" You ask, pinching yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.
He looks at you funnily before teasing, "I didn't stutter, did I?"
"How—You know what? I'm not even gonna bother asking."
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You've always dreamt of living lavish. You've dreamt of riding luxury cars and wearing limited edition pieces. You've dreamt of paying off your student debt with one transaction. But it was just a dream to you only because you knew it would take a lot for it to happen. Jaehyun was a living example. He was raised by parents who were running the country's top cosmetics business. When Jaehyun turned eighteen, his parents had put their full trust in him and enrolled him in a business program. After hardwork and dedication, Jaehyun had eventually graduated (with high honours!) and took over the business. It didn't take much longer until he became the CEO of the family business. And now, Jaehyun's living the dream.
"I wonder how it feels to buy two airplane tickets out on a whim," you say softly as you and Jaehyun stroll up at a lounge. 
Jaehyun takes off his shades and shoves them into the front pocket of his jean jacket. "It wasn't an impulsive purchase, alright?"
"Well, you did just tell me to pack my things out of nowhere because of a flight I'm suddenly boarding." You wave it off. "No biggie, right?"
He chuckles. "It's for a business trip, Y/N."
"Ah, I see." You nod your head. "Now that explains everything."
"I brought you along because my parents might be there," he explains. "But I'm not fully sure. I brought you just in case they do show up."
"Is that why you asked me to pack my best dress?"
"Bingo." He fist bumps you.
As the two of you settle down on one of the leather couches in the lounge, you place your feet on your luggage. Leaning against the couch, you glance at Jaehyun. He's looking at something on his phone before placing it down on his lap.
"I should give you a break down of the plan," he suggests. "My parents are coming home a week before Christmas and will stay until the second week of January."
"That long?" He nods his head.
"Yes, so I need you to keep this act up with me until they go back to America." He adds.
"When they arrive, what's the story we tell them?" You question.
“What do you have in mind?"
"I guess we'll just keep it simple and say we had feelings for each other for a long time but never got around to confessing." You suggest and he seems to agree.
"And then wing the rest of the details?"
"Correct." You answer. "We'll be able to wing it, right?"
He smiles. "Right."
"But you are aware that we have to be convincing to them, right?" You raise an eyebrow. "And what I mean is that we have to, you know, show them that we're 'in love' with each other."
"We hug each other whenever we see each other. I can hold your hand, no biggie. Unless you have an issue—"
"But we also have to, you know—"
"Kiss? On the lips?" He cuts you off. "I have no problems with kissing you. No strings attached, right?"
There's something about his words that make you feel heartbroken. Just a little. No strings attached. It made you feel sad but it was a good reminder of who you are to Jaehyun. You're his best friend for life and his fake girlfriend for a couple of weeks. Everything that happens during this fake relationship isn't real. No strings attached. 
"Right." You muster up a smile. "No strings attached."
The plane lands two hours later. The flight attendant directs you to what seems like a different section on the plane. You start to wonder. But then again, this was Jaehyun, always out on a whim. The flight attendant directs you towards the section for first class passengers. You can't help but look at everything in awe. The both of you arrive at your assigned seats and you look at Jaehyun with excitement and shock. He could only look at you amusedly.
"First class?" You say excitedly and he nods.
"Only for the best," he chuckles as he takes off his jean jacket to settle down in his seat.
As you take a seat, you start fiddling with the buttons on the arm rest before a flight attendant approaches you. You look up at the flight attendant and she offers you a glass of red wine. Taking the glass of wine, you turn towards Jaehyun to catch his attention, only to find him already looking at you. 
"Are you trying to get drunk during the flight?" He teases.
"Sorry, this is all new to me." You chuckle, placing the glass of wine down onto the table you pulled out for yourself.
"Well, our flight is a couple of hours, so make yourself comfortable." He insists. "However, I just want to remind you of what's planned right when we land."
You take a sip of your wine. "What's happening when we land?"
"A good friend of mine from Dior will be picking us up at the restaurant. She tailored my suit for the business conference we're attending and I told her that I got a last-minute plus one." He explains. "She has a couple of dresses she wants you to try out."
"But the dress that I brought is good enough, no?"
"It could be used as a backup." He replies. "Besides, Marcella really wants to meet the woman that supposedly stole my heart."
"Stop being greasy."
"I'm not."
"Alright. But are you sure you're not spending too much? On me, specifically?" You frown, completely doubtful. 
He gives you a warm smile. "There's nothing for you to worry about. You're my best friend, and you doing this for me is more than enough."
You mirror his smile. He grabs his glass of wine while you grab yours, clinking your glasses together as a kickoff to what's about to start and what's about to go down this holiday season.
"Let's kick some ass, babe." 
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Waiting for you at the airport is a woman draped in everything Dior. She exerted nothing but high class and riches, standing out from everyone else at the pick-up terminal. You couldn't help but gawk at her, wondering how you could gain the confidence she had. She wore a seat of black shades indoors, and slung over her shoulder was cute little purse. Once she spots Jaehyun, she adjusts her shades a bit lower down the bridge of her nose. She smirks.
"Marcella, long time no see!" Jaehyun exclaims.
You assume her name is Marcella. When her eyes land on you, your first instinct is to shy away. She smiles at you, flashing her perfectly white teeth. She pulls Jaehyun in for a hug and pecks him on the cheek. Once she pulls away, she extends her arms to you. 
"Is this the special girl you can't seem to stop talking about?" She teases Jaehyun and you fail to notice how Jaehyun's ears turn a light pink. "I've been dying to meet you, Y/N! From what Jae tells me about you, I have a feeling that we'll be the best of friends."
The two of you hug and when you pull away, you turn towards Jaehyun. "You talk a whole lot about me behind my back, huh?"
Marcella winks at you. "He sure does. Now, let's get going. We don't have much time left before the business convention. I want you both to look sickening."
And with the snap of her fingers, two bodyguards randomly show up at your side. You slightly flinch when a buff man dressed up in a suit suddenly appears on your right. Looking up at Jaehyun, you can't help but look at him incredulously when he shows no reaction, as if it was normal.
You decide to look straight forward, fixating your gaze on Marcella. She walks with poise, her heels clicking against the floor and her hips swaying back and forth with every step she took. 
Suddenly, you feel a warm hand grab yours and you almost stumble on your own two feet. Glancing down, you could see Jaehyun gently holding onto your hand. You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling to wide. And how you wish your cheeks weren't a light shade of red because of it.
While you're too busy trying to steady the beat of your heart, Jaehyun's completely distracted by the blush beginning to form on your cheeks. 
"Babe, everything alright?" You look up at Jaehyun. He looks at you with genuine concern.
You're not sure if it's the way your hand fits perfectly in Jaehyun's or if just holding hands with him felt effortless, but all you knew was that you were definitely in big trouble. The way he calls you babe feels different this time, no matter how many times he's playfully called you that throughout your friendship.
You stutter, "I-I'm doing alright."
The three of you are escorted to a black SUV with tinted windows. As Marcella hops into the car, she rides shotgun while you and Jaehyun sit together in the back. There's not much interaction or conversation at the beginning of the car ride. You guess it could be because you're still flustered or because Jaehyun's still holding your hand. Marcella looks at the both of you through the rear-view mirror and a smile starts to form on her lips.
"I have a ton of options for you, Y/N." Marcella decides to start a conversation. "When Jaehyun told me he was bringing his girlfriend along, I got too excited and started pulling out my favourite dresses."
"Wow, you're showing a lot of favouritism." Jaehyun frowns. "You got Y/N a ton of dresses to choose from, and yet you only gave me one option. You didn't even let me decide whether I liked it or not!"
Marcella chuckles. "That's because I already know which style suits you best. For Y/N, however, I wasn't quite sure what she liked, so I went ahead and started picking for her."
"As long as she looks beautiful," Jaehyun says softly, and you feel his thumb gently caress the back of your hand. "She already is beautiful anyways."
"Just trust me on this one, Jaehyun. I'll work my magic."
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The black SUV parks in front of the grand Galleria Victorio Emanuele II. As you look out the window, you can’t help but gasp. The shopping area did not look like a mall whatsoever. It looked like a tall museum with a long strip down the middle for shoppers and tourists to walk through. But it didn’t stop there. The floors were tiled and the lights were all sorts of bright and dim, giving off a romantic vibe. As you all got off the car, your eyes start to wander off into the farthest distances. But somehow, your eyes stop to stare at a  sweet couple who are sharing a cup of gelato. 
Marcella leads the way into the shopping area with you and Jaehyun following behind. The bodyguards are too busy scanning the area to even notice you playfully hitting Jaehyun in the arm. 
“Ow! What was that for?” He hisses, and you look at him with wide eyes.
“Jaehyun, I don’t want you spending so much on me—”
“I want to.” He cuts you off, rubbing the area you had hit. “You’re already doing so much for me, and this is the only way I could pay you back.”
“But—”
“Y/N, once we get to the shop, there will be one of the tailors who will dress you up. To make you feel more comfortable, I’ll be in the fitting room if you need my help.” Marcella looks over her shoulder. She smiles at you. 
The reaction you have when you reach the shop is not much different than when you had got out of the car. The shop was huge with three floors of endless clothing. Christian Dior. You had never once thought or imagined that you’d be wearing a known brand. But this was Jaehyun’s life, this is considered normal to him. You look up at Jaehyun, who flashes you a reassuring smile. He places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you as you head into the shop.
Marcella offers you her hand and you gladfully take it. Before you even know it, you’re being dragged down a corridor and through some curtains. There are two female tailors waiting for your arrival, and once you’re in their sight, they welcome you. As the tailors take you to the fitting room to try on the first dress, Marcella can’t help but watch how adorable you are.
“Here’s dress number one, Miss Y/N.” One of the tailors shows you a dress hung up against the full-body mirror. “I’ll let you put it on alone and then I’ll zip it up for you. Just let me know when you’re done.”
“I—Alright,” you say sheepishly.
The tailor shuts the door behind her and leaves you all alone. You turn towards the mirror to stare at the dress that’s been hung up for you. It’s a black dress that’s covered in sequins. You touch it gently, afraid that with the slightest touch, it’ll rip apart. You carefully put on the dress to the best of your ability, for it was quite long that it hit the tiled floors. Once the dress is on your body, you call out for the tailor to come back into the fitting room to zip you up.
You’re surprised when Marcella comes into the fitting room instead. There’s something about Marcella’s presence that makes your tensed up body to relax. Maybe it’s her warm and welcoming smile that’s telling you that everything will be alright, and that all you have to do is relax. She had some sort of vibe similar to that of Cinderella’s fairy godmother. 
As she’s zipping you up, she asks, “I’m guessing you don’t like this one.”
You look at her through the full-body mirror with surprise. “How’d you know?”
“You look quite stiff in this dress, almost like you feel uncomfortable.” She replies.
“Well,” you begin to explain, “it’s more because of the fact that I feel like I’m being spoiled.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You feel like you’re being spoiled by Jaehyun?”
You slowly nod your head. “I feel bad.”
“First of all,” she says as you hear her zip up the zipper on the dress. “You shouldn’t feel spoiled. When Jaehyun called me yesterday, he asked me to get the best dresses Dior had and I asked him why. Do you know what he said?”
The dress is zipped up. She gently places her hands on your shoulders. You look at her with a questioning gaze. 
“He said that you’re irreplaceable and very special to him. He only wants the best for you, for his girlfriend.” She smiles. You feel your heart skip a beat. “And mind you, he didn’t tell me that you were his girlfriend. But by how he spoke about you and how he looks after you, I already knew. I already knew that the woman Jaehyun’s talking about is someone really special.”
“He’s special to me,” you say softly and the smile on Marcella’s face gets wider. “But I feel like I don’t deserve any of this. The last thing I want is for him to spend so much on me, and yet here he is, going the extra mile.”
She laughs. She has a nice laugh, you note, for it rings beautifully in your ears. You can tell that she is someone you can trust. “That’s the Jaehyun we know. He always goes the extra mile. But don’t feel bad for letting him do all of this for you because he genuinely wants the best for you.”
“I’ll try not to.” You say softly.
“You won’t try to not feel bad. You will not feel bad whatsoever.” She reassures you. “Let your boyfriend spoil you once in a while. Now, shall we show him the dress?”
You feel more relaxed with her reassurance. She helps you walk out of the room because the dress is extremely long. The two tailors grab the ends of the dress so help you walk easier. Marcella draws the curtains and you find Jaehyun sitting down on one of the couches. He looks up from his cellphone and his eyes meet yours. His eyes squint.
“Yeah, I don’t like it. It looks like Y/N doesn’t like it either.” He says with much confidence and conviction. It was almost as if he had read your mind. 
“Hm,” Marcella hums softly as she begins to look deep in thought. You awkwardly stand in front of Jaehyun with the tailors still holding at the ends of your dress as Marcella starts scanning her eyes around the shop. 
“Is there something wrong, Marcella?” You ask and she lets out a soft ‘aha!’.
“I think I know what dress you should wear.” Marcella grins, and she suddenly disappears into the shop. 
You look over your shoulder to see the tailors sharing the same look of confusion. You look back at Jaehyun who only shrugs his shoulders. 
“Miss Y/N, shall we head back to the fitting room to take off the dress?” One of the tailors insists and you nod your head. They help you back into the fitting room to get the dress off.
Marcella comes back to the fitting room with a dress covered in a plastic garment bag. The tailors excuse themselves and let Marcella work her magic. You watch her with curiosity as she hangs up the dress against the full-body mirror. As she slowly takes off the garment back, the dress is revealed to you and you can’t help but gasp. The dress is beautiful. 
“I did say that I chose dresses for you prior to our first meet, but I think this dress is the one.” She explains, heading towards your side to look at the dress. She looks at you and smiles when you don’t utter a single word. “I’m guessing you like it.”
It’s a navy blue dress with a corset bodice, but it flows out in tulle fabric. Scattered all over the skirt of the dress are constellations and cosmic designs. It gave off a feeling of floating in the sky or in outer space. It looked magical. 
“I’ll let you put it on and I’ll zip you up.” She insists and leaves the fitting room all to yourself.
You stare at the dress. You had never seen a dress like this, and so you assume that it was one of a kind. You carefully put on the dress, and once it’s on, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You couldn’t believe that the woman standing in front of the mirror was you. A price tag on the dress catches you eye, but you decide to not spare it a single glance because you knew you’d regret doing it. On cue, Marcella knocks on the door and you let her in.
She zips you up and grins. “I think Jaehyun will love it.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
And so when she finally zips you up, she guides you out of the room. The tailors each grab your hand to help you walk. As Marcella draws the curtain, you notice Jaehyun’s busy talking to someone on the phone. He’s pacing back and forth in front of the couch, running a hand through his hair. You hug yourself, feeling a bit insecure and awkward standing in front of Jaehyun. Marcella clears her throat and Jaehyun quickly ends the phone call. He shoves his phone into his pocket and looks up at you.
When Jaehyun finally sees you, he can’t help but feel his mouth slightly fall open in shock. There’s something about the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and the way you look at him with those curious doe eyes that make his heart soften. You’ve always dressed up for family gatherings and blind dates, but this was different. You’re dressed up for him. He suddenly has a want of having you dress up for him from now on, because with the way you look perfect and beautiful in front of him right now, it unexpectedly makes his heart beat slow and still. It strikes a chord in his heart. To him, you look so perfect that he’s afraid that with one mistake, he’ll lose you forever. 
You continue to stand there awkwardly and expectantly, waiting for his final decision.
“It looks perfect,” he breathes out, “you look perfect.”
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“How’s everything moving along?”
You look at Johnny with horror. His pixelated face lags for a bit until you hear a choppy version of his laugh. Johnny’s wifi had been cut off and he had to get to the local cafe to be able to video chat with you. You’re assuming that the cafe’s wifi was nothing but utter shit. But you speak too soon when his pixelated face starts to get clearer and his voice stops cutting off. 
“It’s been… rough.” You let out a sigh. 
As you take a sip of your freshly made cup of coffee, you watch the busy streets from the comfort of a restaurant patio. Jaehyun had decided to fight his jet lag and sleep in to catch up with Italy’s time. You, on the other hand, had trouble sleeping because all you’ve been thinking about was how Jaehyun stared at you in that dress. 
“I can tell.” Johnny smirks. “Has anything spicy happened?”
“Well, other than the fact that Jaehyun spoiled me with a Dior dress, nothing else has been spicier.” You reply.
“Wait.” Johnny’s eyes round in shock. “Dior? Christian Dior?”
“You heard it right.” You purse your lips into a tight line. “Trust me, I reacted the same way.”
“He’s really grabbing every opportunity to spoil you, huh?”
“But that’s not the issue,” you shake your head. 
“Then what’s the issue?”
“Johnny, when I wore that dress yesterday, the look he gave me… I may be overlooking and overthinking about it but,” you bite your lip. “I don’t know. I should probably stop overthinking it.”
“Listen, Y/N,” Johnny says. “Don’t overanalyze, overthink, and overlook. Just enjoy the moment. You’re doing this as Jaehyun’s best friend. You’re also doing this for the sake of your own feelings.”
“Is it too late to back out?”
“It’s too late to back out. You’re not going to just let Jaehyun give back a Christian Dior dress, right?” Johnny chuckles. “I don’t even think they do refunds. Do they?”
“This is stressing me out.” You groan.
“Just do it for you and Jaehyun. Killing two birds with one stone, remember?” Johnny reminds you and you slowly nod your head. 
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You mumble. “No overanalyzing, overlooking, or overthinking. This is for Jaehyun, and for me, if I get the courage to tell him how I feel.”
“There’s the fighting spirit I’ve been looking for!” He exclaims. “Anyways, I have to go, Y/N. The wifi here in the cafe has its good days and bad days. I also promised Haechan to join him and play video games.”
“Alright,” you pout. “I’ll text you if anything happens, okay?”
“And I’ll text you back as soon as I can, just like how I always do.” He reassures you.
Right on cue, the video chat gets choppy and laggy, forcing you to end the chat. You let out another frustrated sigh, folding your arms and leaning against the chair. A pigeon takes a seat right behind the patio fence, and it grabs your attention. You frown, bending over to get closer to the pigeon.
“Hey little guy, do you know what I should do?” You ask the pigeon.
The pigeon only stares at you before flying away. You pout, grabbing your cup of coffee to take a sip. You try to occupy your thoughts but before you even try, you hear someone clear their throat. Looking up, you see a man standing right in front of you. He’s quite the looker. He has a distinct set of eyes that seem to be piercing right through your soul. He has such strong features that it makes you do a double take.
“I was wondering what a lovely lady like you would be frowning on an early morning like this.” 
Your eyes slightly widen. Taken aback, you tilt your head in confusion. “Are you talking to me?”
He scans around the patio before shrugging his shoulders. “You’re the only lady here, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Sorry, but may I ask who you are?” You question.
He extends his arm. “Nam Joohyuk. And you are?”
“Y/N.” You shake his hand briefly before gently retreating it away from him.
“Do you mind if I join you for breakfast?” He asks and you shrug your shoulders.
“Sure. I don’t mind. I was just about to finish my breakfast anyway.” You insist.
He takes the seat right across from you. You’re not quite sure what this man’s intentions are, but he doesn’t seem harmful. He calls for a waiter and orders a toasted bagel with cream cheese and a small cup of cappuccino. You look away from him before he catches you staring. You fixate your gaze on the local shops down the street, wondering if you should check them out before you fly out in a couple of days. 
“You didn’t really answer my question,” he breaks the silence.
“What question?”
“What’s a lovely lady like you frowning on an early morning?” He asks.
You chuckle. “It’s a long story. Quite complicated too, actually. I don’t think you’d be interested.”
“But I’m interested in you,” he says slyly and you furrow your eyebrows. 
“You’re very blunt with your words,” you say softly. “Shouldn’t you be afraid of me? You barely know me. You’ve only known me for five minutes and you only know my name.”
“I could say the same thing to you.” He shrugs his shoulders. 
You fold your arms. 
“Is it bad to tell someone that they look beautiful? Is it bad to join a beautiful stranger for breakfast?” He tests and you smirk.
“Fine. Have it your way, I guess.” You say softly, avoiding his gaze.
“Well, Miss Y/N, I just wanted to let you know that I find you very beautiful. I couldn’t help but approach you and maybe get to know you more.” He explains. 
You decide to call for the waiter, but before you could, someone catches your eye. Jaehyun’s standing near the door leading back into the restaurant. He’s shooting daggers at the guy seated across from you. You feel your palms start to sweat.
“Waiter!” You exclaim, and your voice seems to break Jaehyun’s gaze on the guy. The waiter approaches you and you discreetly ask for the bill. When the waiter excuses herself to grab the bill, you begin to gather your things.
“Leaving me already?” Joohyuk frowns. “If so, can I maybe just get your number—”
“My girlfriend does not want to give you her number.”
You freeze up in your seat. Jaehyun’s voice sounds cold, and when you look up at him, you can’t help but notice how you can’t even recognize him. He’s glaring at Joohyuk. Joohyuk almost chokes on air before glancing at you. You raise an eyebrow at Joohyuk.
“Jung Jaehyun,” Joohyuk smirks. “Long time no see.”
You eyebrows knit together in sudden confusion. They knew each other? Jaehyun’s hands clench up into fists and you quickly finish gathering your things to avoid causing a scene. 
“Indeed, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” Jaehyun says. “I was even hoping that it’d be the last.”
“You really scored yourself a beautiful girlfriend,” Joohyuk folds his arms. “But are you sure that you’re not making her happy? I couldn’t help but approach her because she looked quite… sad.”
Jaehyun looks at you for a moment and you avoid his gaze. “Stay out of this. My girlfriend and I are dating happily with good intentions. The last thing I would want is for men like you to hit on her.”
“I’ll stay out of it. But only until she finally leaves you.” Joohyuk shrugs his shoulders.
Jaehyun gently grabs your hand and tugs on it. As you both leave the restaurant, Jaehyun hands the waiter a couple of bills to pay for your breakfast. You can’t help but feel a bit guilty and humiliated, not finding the voice to defend your best friend in front of a stranger. 
“Are you okay? Did he say anything bad to you?” Jaehyun asks with concern when you both reach the elevator. You shake your head. 
“I just feel bad for not defending you,” you mumble. “I’m sorry. I was going to leave him, I swear, but he was just—”
“Persistent?” You nod your head. He scoffs. “That’s Nam Joohyuk for you.”
“You both know each other?”
“He’s the next CEO of a competing company.” He confesses. “He has a way with his words, and he always tries to get whatever I have. It’s quite annoying, actually, and it’s all because he’s persistent. He never gives up.”
“He’s going to be at that business convention for sure.” He hums in reply. “I’m sorry, Jae. I had no idea who he was—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He cuts you off, flashing you a small, reassuring smile. “As long as he didn’t hurt you and say anything to hurt you.”
As the elevator reaches the floor your room is at, the both of you step out into the hallway. Jaehyun lets go of your hand and leads the way to the room. You can’t help but think. Why was Jaehyun staring at Joohyuk like that? Why was he getting angry?
There’s a sudden peak of courage and confidence, the familiar emotion peaks that you get when you think it’s the perfect time to confess. You guess it’s because of the way Jaehyun got overprotective of you, how he held your hand, and even how he stared at you in that dress. 
And when you couldn’t help it no longer, you call out for Jaehyun. “Jaehyun?”
But when he turns around those peaks of courage and confidence disappear from the look on his face. The anger and jealousy that was once on his face moments ago had vanished. The warmth of his hand on yours had run cold. The deep stare he had given you when you were in that dress was nothing but a result of your overthinking and overanalyzing. Jaehyun doesn’t love you how you love him. 
“Yeah?” 
He truly doesn’t see you that way. And it makes you feel sick.
“Nothing.”
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The business convention approaches faster than you think. Marcella arrives at the hotel room you and Jaehyun shared to help you put on the dress. She even arrives with a team to do your makeup and hair. Marcella doesn’t dare to tell you but she notices how quiet you’ve gotten since the last time she had seen you. It seemed like you had some troubling thoughts you were hesitant to share. But she didn’t want to intrude.
“You look beautiful,” Marcella says once everything is done.
“Do I?” You say softly. You say it more to yourself. Marcella frowns.
“Y/N, are you doing alright? You’ve been quiet since I got here and I can’t help but feel concerned.” She asks. “Did something happen between you and Jaehyun?”
You muster up a smile. “Nothing happened. I guess I’m just really tired.”
Marcella pats your back. “Well, you know that you can trust me with anything. So if anything happens, just know, I’m just digits away. I’ll drop everything to talk to you.”
You can’t help but chuckle. Marcella’s just like Johnny. Somehow, you wish the both of them could meet because they’ll absolutely become best friends. Best friends. Just like you and Jaehyun. Your smile falters. 
“I called a chauffeur to pick the both of you up. It’s on me. I don’t want any complaints. I just want you both to arrive at the venue safely.” Marcella announces.
“Marcella, can I ask you something?” You ask.
She gestures for you to continue. But with the gaze she’s giving you, you almost tell her the truth. But you wouldn’t dare do that. The show hasn’t even started.
“My friend is in a complicated situation.” You begin. “She’s in love with her best friend, but she doesn’t know what to do. Heck, she doesn’t even know if her best friend loves her back, in that way.”
“Do you want to know something?” You nod your head. “When Jaehyun told me that he’s in love, I was ecstatic. When he told me that he’s in love with his best friend, I was excited. But when he told me that his best friend ended up being his girlfriend, I felt nothing but happiness.”
“He told you that?” She smiles.
“My fiance and I, we were two lonely people who decided to give love a shot.” She shrugs her shoulders. “But there’s always that one person, the one that got away. To me, the one that got away was my best friend.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She smiles as she reminisces her past. “I was so in love with my best friend, but because I pined after him for most of my life, I lost the opportunity. He fell in love with someone else. Sometimes, I wonder if things would’ve been different if I had just told him.”
“Do you miss him?” You ask out of curiosity.
“I do. But not in that way.” She replies. “I’m happily in love with my fiance. And so, to help your friend out, I would tell her to confess before it’s too late. Don’t be like me. In fact, she should be like you and Jaehyun! I’m happy that the woman Jaehyun’s in love with is his best friend. You really make him happy.”
Someone knocks on the door. The both of you turn towards the door to see Jaehyun popping in his head. A smile creeps up on your face, signalling him to come into the hotel room. He walks in wearing a navy blue suit, and his hair gelled and pushed back. He looked like a prince.
“Perfect timing,” Marcella clasps her hands together after checking her phone. “Your chauffeur is here.”
The both of you find yourselves seated in a black SUV with the chauffeur. On the way to the venue, Jaehyun replies to a couple of emails on his phone while you look out the window. As you pass by, you can’t help but admire the beautiful houses and shopping strips. Jaehyun looks at you briefly with a faint smile spread across his lips. 
Turns out that Jaehyun’s parents aren’t attending the business convention, leaving one less problem for the both of you to stress out over. However, potential business partners are attending the event, therefore you and Jaehyun had made sure to look polished and perfect so that this fake relationship wouldn’t slip through. 
“Do you think they’ll like me?”
Jaehyun tears his gaze from the screen of his phone to look at you. You’re still looking out the window. He purses his lips into a tight line. His eyes fall upon your hand, and he has the sudden urge to hold it.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug your shoulders. “I guess it’s just my insecurities getting the best of me again.”
“Listen, you look beautiful. To me, at least, and that’s all that matters.” He reassures you.
“You’re only saying that because you’re my best friend.” You chuckle as you turn to look at him. He shakes his head, looking at you seriously. 
“They’ll love you,” he says.
The SUV pulls up in front of the venue, and the men suited up at the valet open the doors, escorting you out of the car. Jaehyun walks over to your side, grabbing your hand in his. You’re already used to the feeling of Jaehyun’s hand in yours, so you’re not caught off guard anymore. 
Everything about the event screamed money and riches. People were dressed up in luxury brands, whether it be statement dresses or all-black suits. It was a crowd that you weren’t used to, and you immediately feel yourself tense up. Jaehyun seems to notice how quiet you’ve gotten, and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You look up at him and he smiles at you. 
“Is there anything you would like to drink, Mr. Jung?” One of the waiters asks, holding up a tray with an assortment of alcoholic drinks. Jaehyun looks at you.
“Is there anything you would like to drink?” He asks and you shake your head. Jaehyun glances at the waiter. “We’ll have two glasses of water for now, thank you.”
The waiter hands the two of you a glass of water. You clear your throat, your eyes scanning through the venue. Everyone looked beautiful and handsome. The aura each individual had was enough to tell you that they’re from rich families and backgrounds. Jaehyun being one of them. But Jaehyun was different from the rest. He built up his future with the help of his parents, and he’s been nothing but grateful. 
“Where are the potential business partners?” You ask Jaehyun in a soft tone. He looks around the venue, before spotting them. He points at two people standing near a stand-up table. 
“Those are the Park’s,” he says. “We’ve always wanted to form some sort of connection with them. But they were the ones that reached out to us first.”
“That’s nice, I guess they really want to become partners.” 
“Do you want to meet them with me?” He questions.
You stare at him with wide eyes. “I—”
“They’ll love you.” He reassures you. “Stop worrying.”
You look at him hesitantly before he grabs your hand. He leads you towards the Park’s, and once you reach them, they smile at the two of you.
“Jung Jaehyun!” One of them exclaims, shaking his hand before pulling him into a hug. 
“Mr. Park, it’s nice seeing you here.” Jaehyun greets Mr. Park. The woman standing next to Mr. Park is assumingly his wife. “Mrs. Park, it’s nice to see you here as well. It’s unfortunate that Jinyoung couldn’t attend, I was hoping to catch up with him.”
“Jinyoung was quite devastated when a business matter came up, he had wanted to see you as well!” Mrs. Park says. “I was also looking forward to meeting your parents, but it’s sad that they had to stay back. But I see that you’ve brought yourself a lovely plus one.”
Jaehyun glances at you. You smile at the Park’s. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. You are so beautiful!” Mrs. Park hugs you briefly. “The two of you look great together. I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on, right, Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun chuckles. “Yes, that’s right.”
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The night has arrived, and the business event is almost finished. Jaehyun was dragged farther into the venue to talk to other CEOs and business partners, leaving you all alone at the bar. Your eyes search for him, until you spot him talking to a woman. She looks somewhat near your age, and she’s quite beautiful that you stare at her longer than you should. She’s wearing a long, red dress with a long slit exposing one of her legs. The dress is sleeveless, exposing her prominent collarbones. She looked model-worthy, like someone you would see pictured in a fashion magazine.
She leans in to whisper something to Jaehyun, and the both of them share a laugh together. You squint your eyes at her. Before you could shoot a glare her way, you stop yourself. That’s right. You’re not his girlfriend. You have no right to be jealous.
“What’s a lovely woman like you sitting all alone at a bar?” 
You inwardly groan, turning around to see Joohyuk approaching you. He takes a seat next to you at the bar, ordering himself a glass of red wine. You grab your shot glass and take the shot, bottoms up. Joohyuk places his chin on his hand and stares at you.
“I see that your boyfriend left you here all alone,” Joohyuk says. “He seems to be busy with Minyoung.”
“Her name’s Minyoung?” You question, the alcohol in your system starting to act up. Joohyuk looks at you with surprise.
“You don’t know who Minyoung is?” You shake your head. “But you’re his girlfriend, you should know who Minyoung is. Or should I say, who Minyoung is to Jaehyun.”
“Is this another one of your mind games, Joohyuk?” You scoff. “What do you want from me?”
“This is not a mind game.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m just surprised you don’t know anything about Minyoung.”
“Jaehyun loves me and I love him.” You lie. “We are happily dating.”
“If you love him, you shouldn’t be letting a past-lover like Minyoung stand so close to your boyfriend like that.” Joohyuk tests you. 
You look past Joohyuk’s shoulder to see Jaehyun and Minyoung still talking to each other. You scoff, turning towards the bartender and ordering another round of shots. 
“Poor little Y/N,” he cocks his head to the side while looking at you. “You should be careful of Minyoung, you know that, right? She’s Jaehyun’s past-lover, but they never really dated. She rejected him. But now it seems that she can’t accept the fact that he’s taken.”
“Taken by me,” you say before slamming down an empty shot glass. “Thank you for your concern, Joohyuk. But I know Jaehyun wouldn’t do anything bad to me.”
Jaehyun winces when Minyoung places her hand on his shoulder. She’s clearly flirting with him. He tries to fight the urge to push her hand off of his shoulder. 
“I had no idea that you were taken, Jae.” Minyoung purses her lips into a tight line. “Did you get impatient enough to stop waiting for me?”
“I don’t love you that way anymore, Minyoung.” He confesses. “We were young. You rejected me. I found someone else.”
“But wouldn’t it be nice if you just dropped your girlfriend for me instead? You’ll not only get me but a share of my company as well.” She shrugs her shoulders. “But with your girlfriend, you’ll have her and nothing else good for your business.”
“I was simply talking to you to offer a business proposal that’ll benefit your declining business. But I guess I’m just a bit too nice.” Jaehyun pushes her hand off his shoulder and she looks quite taken aback. “Nice catching up with you, Minyoung. I wish you all the best.”
“Wait, Jaehyun!”
But it’s too late. Jaehyun’s already turning around to head back to you. He stops in his tracks when he sees you and Joohyuk talking to each other at the bar. Joohyuk’s hand is inches away from yours, and Joohyuk’s leaning in closer to you. You look quite tipsy, and Jaehyun spots several empty shot glasses right in front of you.
As he makes his way towards you, Joohyuk spots him and smirks. “Your knight in shining armor is here to save you.”
You glance at Jaehyun. Your face goes blank when Jaehyun pushes Joohyuk aside. He grabs your hand and pulls you away from Joohyuk.
“Jaehyun, I feel sick.” You say softly. 
Jaehyun stops and turns towards you. “I don’t want you near him. Did you notice how he was looking at you? How he was staring at you? I didn’t like it, Y/N.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I had no idea.”
His angered face softens. He sighs. He definitely has a weak spot for you. There’s something that pushes him to lean in and press his lips against yours. He cups your cheeks with his hands and deepens the kiss. Your lips are soft, and they taste sweet. Before he can take the kiss further than intended, he stops himself and pulls away. You look at him with tired eyes, but surprisingly, you’re smiling. 
The faint taste of strawberries and raspberries lingers on his lips. 
“Let’s go home.”
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Jaehyun carries you from the lobby to the hotel room you shared. You’re dozing off but you still had a little bit of willpower to keep your eyes open. The alcohol was definitely kicking in, and everything was starting to get blurry. But all you could seem to focus on is your close proximity to Jaehyun and his scent. 
He smelled like fresh laundry, like he was fresh out of the drying machine. Jaehyun carried you like he was folding a snowflake, almost like if he made one mistake, you’d crumble up and disappear. He couldn’t deny how the hairs on his neck stood up all because you were so close to him. 
As you reach your hotel room, Jaehyun struggles to open the door, but when he does, he kicks off his shoes and heads straight to the bed. You’re mumbling words underneath your breath and Jaehyun can’t seem to make out what you’re saying. He gently places you down onto the bed, but he suddenly falls on top of you when you don’t seem to unlatch your arms that were wrapped around his neck. 
His face is inches away from yours. You’re too drunk and tipsy to even notice that his lips are centimetres away from yours and how he’s literally all up in your face. But Jaehyun is sober and completely aware of what was going on. He’s so close to you that he can count your eyelashes one by one. 
His heart is beating fast that he’s afraid it’ll beat out of his chest. Your eyes flutter shut and he can’t help but stare at how beautiful you look. His eyes stare at your closed eyes, then they continue to trail down your face. His gaze stops at your plump lips, and he immediately remembers the kiss you both shared a couple of hours ago. He bites his lip. 
Suddenly, your eyes flutter open and his eyes widen in response. He scurries to get up from you but he stops when your hands cup his cheeks. You stare at him through hooded eyes. 
“Jaehyun,” you whisper, “you should smile more.”
“Y/N, you should go get some sleep, you’re starting to talk funny—”
“When you smile, your eyes twinkle. It’s like I can see the stars in your eyes.” You smile, caressing his cheeks. “You should smile more. It’s charming.”
He knows that his ears are red, but he doesn’t care. Eventually, you knock out. Jaehyun moves you on the bed and tucks you underneath the blankets. He decides to take the couch for the night. 
However, he doesn’t expect to hear the words that come out of your mouth when you turn off the lights. 
“Goodnight, Jaehyun. I love you.”
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The car ride to the airport is silent. Marcella stares at you and Jaehyun with concern. You’re still a bit hungover from all the shots you had last night. Jaehyun’s occupying himself by answering new emails from his phone. You woke up that morning with a huge headache and an empty hotel room. You found Jaehyun standing outside on the balcony, looking up at the clouds as they pass by. There was something bugging him, you assume, because ever since you woke up he didn’t even bother talking to you. Did something bad happen last night? You couldn’t remember.
The airplane ride going back to Seoul is just as silent. Jaehyun finally breaks the silence and explains to you that he’ll be busy typing up some contracts and documents. You respect him and opt to catch up on your novel during the flight, but something was still bugging you. Was it the troubled look Jaehyun had on his face? The frown he had on? Or maybe it was the way Jaehyun left his in-flight meal untouched? 
You couldn’t remember anything from last night except for one thing; the kiss. The kiss you both shared never seems to leave your mind and it was the first thing you remembered the moment you woke up this morning. The feeling of Jaehyun’s lips seem to linger on yours a bit longer than it should. At this point, you’re glad that Jaehyun’s busy with work because you weren’t sure if you could be able to talk to him, maybe even look him straight in the eye.
However, what you don’t expect is entering Jaehyun’s mansion only to see two extra pairs of shoes at the door. You and Jaehyun share a look for the first time after hours of silence. 
“Surprise!”
The both of you flinch when Jaehyun’s parents jump out of the corridor. Jaehyun’s mother is the first one to realize that Jaehyun brought you, his childhood best friend, home. And when she realizes it, her eyes go wide like saucers. His father, however, can only grin when it all starts to add up from him.
“When did you guys get here?” Jaehyun asks, completely confused.
“We didn’t attend the business event so that we could settle into your place before you both get home.” Jaehyun’s father replies. “Your mother cooked up a huge dinner because she had a feeling you’d be bringing your girlfriend home with you.”
“Y/N?” Jaehyun’s mother trails off, staring at you with eyes formed into beautiful crescents. 
“Yes, mother.” Jaehyun musters up a smile that causes his dimples to pop out. “My girlfriend, Y/N.”
The four of you stand like that for a moment. Jaehyun’s mother stares at you like a trophy that Jaehyun had won. From the look on her face, you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. Maybe tricking Jaehyun’s parents into thinking that your his girlfriend is easier than you thought. 
“Oh, that’s right!” Jaehyun’s mother snaps out of her trance and exclaims. “Let’s eat dinner! I’m sure the in-flight meals weren’t pleasant so I cooked you guys a hearty meal.”
“You didn’t have to, mother.” Jaehyun says and his mother slaps him in the arm.
“I wanted to,” she winks at you. “Besides, this dinner will be much more special because your girlfriend is here to join us. Right, Y/N?”
You clear your throat. “Yes, Mrs. Jung.”
She waves it off. “Just call me mother, Y/N.” 
Before you could look at Jaehyun, his mother starts dragging you into the kitchen. Jaehyun smiles to himself when he sees you start to internally panic. Maybe having you pretend to be his girlfriend was a good idea, he thought. His parents believed him when he told him that he had a girlfriend, but he didn’t expect them to believe that his girlfriend ended up being you. 
It almost seems too real, and there was that small chunk inside of him that wishes it was. 
“Son, let me help you with the luggage.” His father insists and Jaehyun takes up the offer.
The both of them head up to his room to unpack his things, along with yours. His father places Jaehyun’s clothes back into its usual spot in the closet. Jaehyun places your things into one of the newly bought dressers he got specifically for you. 
“When did you decide to give it a shot?” Jaehyun’s father asks.
“What do you mean?” 
“Y/N.” Jaehyun’s father answers. “You know, I always had a feeling that Y/N saw you as more than a childhood best friend.”
Jaehyun stops, looking over his shoulder. His father’s busy placing clothes into the closet to notice that Jaehyun’s looking at him. “Really?”
“Really.” He chuckles. “I guess it was how she looked after you, and whenever she looked at you, it felt… different.”
Jaehyun smiles. “Well, I guess that’s one of the many reasons why I decided to date her.”
“You can tell she really cares about you, Jaehyun. I wonder how she felt when she found out that you had the same feelings for her.” 
“I guess you’ll find out during dinner.”
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You and Jaehyun’s mother are busy setting up the dining table. Every now and then, you would see Jaehyun’s mother admiring you from the corner of your eye. All your life, Jaehyun’s mother had treated you the same, never different. It was like she knew of your feelings for her son. You guess you could say that mothers always know best. And you liked it that way, where no words had to be said because she just knew. 
How you wish that could be same when it came to Jaehyun.
“You know, when Jaehyun told me that he had a girlfriend, I was so excited to meet her. Jaehyun’s not really good at the dating department. My husband and I were so worried that he’d never get married.” She says as she places down a bowl of rice onto the dining table. “But I knew that if he did fall in love, it would be with someone he’s sure of.”
You chuckle. “I didn’t expect it to be me.”
“Oh, I expected it to be you, sweetheart.” She pats your back. “If Jaehyun were to ever settle down and date someone, it would definitely be someone he knew, like a friend.”
“You think he’s the type to fall in love with his best friend?” She hums in reply.
“I know so. When your parents and I watched the both of you grow up together, we’d always joke about how you two might end up together since you’re both always stuck together like glue.” She laughs. “And even though you’re quite shy, I could read you like a book, sweetheart.”
“Am I that obvious?” You whisper and she nods.
“When you both matured, I started to notice that you were beginning to act different around him. It resembled me when I started falling in love with Jaehyun’s husband.”
Jaehyun and his father interrupt the conversation you both had when they stroll into the dining room. The conversation is cut short and Jaehyun’s mother mumbles something along the lines of continuing the chat later on. As the four of you take your seats at the dining table, you glance at Jaehyun and flash him a smile. He smiles back and you feel your heart swell.
“I’m happy to spend the holidays with all of you,” Jaehyun’s mother cheers. “It makes me reminisce all the times Y/N and her parents would come over to have dinner together.”
“We’ll be having more of that from now on, that’s for sure.” Jaehyun’s father adds.
“Cheers.” Jaehyun chuckles and the four of you clink your glasses of wine and champagne.
The dinner is filled with many laughs and chatter. It was similar to that of a family reunion where everyone was catching up on each other’s lives and what they have planned for the future. But in this case, it was more of an interrogation, specifically towards you. 
“So, who was the one who confessed first?” 
You and Jaehyun unexpectedly pointed at each other, before your eyes widened with panic. Jaehyun clears his throat. “Y/N, it was definitely you who confessed first, was it not?”
“It was you!” You playfully argue back.
He scoffs. “It wasn’t me. It was you!”
“Fine, I’ll just say that it was me to make you feel better about yourself.” You roll your eyes at him and he sticks out his tongue at you. 
“When did you realize it, Y/N?”
You glance at Jaehyun’s father. He looks at you with curiosity and you let your eyes wander. Your eyes stop to fixate on your plate. You set your cutlery down onto the table.
“I guess I realized that I love Jaehyun when I realized that it may be too late.” You say softly, courageously looking at Jaehyun. He’s staring back at you with those soft eyes. “He makes me feel special, like I’m the luckiest girl in the world. He always made me feel special.”
“Great. Honey, where’s my money?” 
“What money?” Jaehyun asks confusedly.
Jaehyun’s father fishes out a couple of bills and hands it over to her husband. “I can’t believe you were right all along. They sure ended up together.”
“You guys made a bet on us?” Jaehyun looks shocked.
“We’re just joking.” Jaehyun’s mother laughs while her husband hands her back the bills. “We all had a feeling you’d end up together anyway.”
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Jaehyun washes up before heading to bed. He stares at his reflection in the mirror, with his eyes trailing down to his lips. Throughout the whole flight, he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss you both shared and the words you said to him before knocking out. He couldn’t stop wondering whether you remembered any of what had happened, and he wishes you didn’t. 
But then he remembers how Joohyuk stared at you that night. It seems to haunt him more than it should. He remembers how angry he felt, how overprotective he suddenly got over you, and to him, it was quite unusual. The last time he felt this way was with Minyoung, and it was slowly starting to terrify him.
Memories of you standing in front of him in that beautiful Dior dress, seeing you chatting with Joohyuk at the restaurant’s patio from the balcony in your room, and the smile you gave him after he kissed you fill his mind. It was all starting to make sense. But maybe it’s the idea of being in a fake relationship with you that’s making him feel this way and making him think it’s real. 
His thoughts are cut short when he hears a knock at the door. He quickly wipes his face and runs his hands through his hair before stepping out. You’re standing outside of the bathroom, holding a face towel and your toiletries. 
“I know I slept on the couch when we were at the hotel but,” he gulps nervously. “My parents might barge into the room and I don’t want them seeing us sleeping apart.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I have no problems sleeping next to you,” you mumble shyly before clearing your throat. “Unless, you feel uncomfortable…”
“I’m fine with it.” He says softly as he moves aside to allow you to use the bathroom. 
You let out a soft chuckle. “Okay. I’ll go wash up now.”
He watches you as you quickly shut the door. He hears the shower turn on and he lets out a huff of breath. He trudges his way towards the bed, placing his phone onto the bedside table. He draws the curtains and opens the door to step out onto the balcony. 
The moon is shining beautifully tonight, he notes to himself. He rests his hands onto the railings of the balcony, staring up at the stars that are scattered across the sky. He laughs to himself, to him, you are like the moon. You are unique, and you shine brighter than the rest. But you’re far from reach, and all he wants is to be closer to you. 
He doesn’t realize that he’s been out on the balcony for a long time until he hears the shower turn off. You step out of the bathroom after changing into a comfortable set of clothes, spotting Jaehyun standing outside on the balcony. You grab your robe and throw it on, heading out to join him.
“Mind if I join?” You ask. He looks over his shoulder and smiles. 
You accompany him out on the balcony, looking up at the sky. He tears his gaze from the moon to glance at you. To you, he was easy to read. He was an open book. But to him, you’re hard to read. With one glance, he can’t seem to make out what you’re thinking in that beautiful mind of yours. 
“Stop staring at me, I know I look cute.” He snorts, looking away from you. 
“Funny how my parents believed it.” You raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t expect them to.”
“Me either.” You shove your hands into the pockets of your robe. “But I guess they do.”
“Do you perhaps,” he says before falling silent. “Do you happen to remember what happened the night of the business event?”
You know that your face pales, but you quickly shake your head. “No, not really. I had a lot of shots that night, so everything’s a blur.”
“Ah, I see.” He nods his head.
“Is there something I should remember?” You question. 
He turns to look at you. You’re looking up at him with a questioning look. The beat of his heart seems to speed up, and his palms grow sweaty. The both of you stare at each other underneath the moonlight. And although you had lied about not remembering the kiss, the silence you both share is enough to tell the truth. 
“Will this make you remember?” 
Before you could utter a reply, Jaehyun’s hands cup your cheeks and he leans in to kiss you. Your eyes widen with surprise before fluttering shut. His lips taste like peppermint, you think to yourself as you wrap your arms around his waist. He leans in closer to deepen the kiss, and you allow entrance for his tongue to graze yours. Before the kiss grows more passionate than it is already, you gently place your hands on his chest and push him away. 
When you both pull away from the kiss, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He scratches the back of his neck and looks everywhere but you. You’re both breathless from the kiss. 
This is wrong. You’re both best friends. You love him and he doesn’t. You’re letting your feelings get ahead of itself, and he’s just a victim of getting caught up in it. 
“Sorry.” You both say at the same time. 
He clears his throat, his fingers reaching up to touch his lips. You hug your body, before biting your lip. 
“I’ll go to bed first,” you say softly. “Good night, Jaehyun.”
He doesn’t answer, and you take it as your cue to head back inside. When you shut the door behind you, you gently touch your lips. Jaehyun looks up to stare at the moon, and he chuckles bitterly.
You lied. You remember what happened that night. 
But why did you lie to him?
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You wake up the next morning alone. The kiss you shared with Jaehyun gives you a throbbing headache. You groan, rubbing at your temples before deciding to get out of bed. As you head downstairs to the kitchen, you spot Jaehyun and his father leaving the mansion. Jaehyun doesn’t spare you a single glance before heading out. You sigh.
Heading into the kitchen, you see Jaehyun’s mother cooking breakfast. When she realizes you’re in the room with her, she smiles widely at you. “Good morning, sweetheart! Did you sleep well last night?”
“Yes.” No, you didn’t. “But I woke up with a headache. Do you happen to know where the painkillers are?”
“Oh, poor thing. I’ll get you them right now. Do you mind watching the pan for a quick second?” 
“Sure, mother.” You insist as you take over and continue to fry the bacon for her. She disappears for a moment before coming back with a glass of water and a pill. “Thank you.”
Jaehyun’s mother looks at you with concern as you take the pill. The look on her face makes you tear up a little, because you were starting to feel guilty. You and Jaehyun aren’t dating, and you can’t imagine the look on her face if you tell her the truth. You can’t tell her the truth, but the way she looks after you like a daughter-in-law almost makes you do it. She doesn’t deserve any of this.
“Do you know where Jaehyun and his father went?” You ask and she nods her head.
“They went to grab some groceries before the stores close tonight.” She replies and that’s when you realize that it’s Christmas Eve. “Do you want to help me cook dinner tonight?”
“That would be lovely,” you smile.
She places the bacon onto a plate with a sunny-side up egg and potato wedges. She hands you the plate of breakfast and you look at her confusedly. “Jaehyun told me that you would wake up soon and asked me to cook breakfast for you while he goes out with his father.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” You shake your head. 
“Stop worrying. I wanted to. Besides, I had nothing else to do.” She laughs.
You glance down at the plate, feeling your eyes tear up again. 
“Thank you, mother.” You whisper and she gently pats your shoulder.
You eat everything on that plate out of appreciation for her. This was the first time someone cooked you a meal after you moved out of your house to live on your own, and the gesture itself made you grateful.
“Mother, do you happen to know who Minyoung is?” You ask out of nowhere.
She replies, “Minyoung was Jaehyun’s first love.”
You hum in reply. 
“What made you suddenly ask that?” She chuckles.
You shrug your shoulders. “They were talking to each other at the business event.”
“Minyoung is a quirky girl. She was raised by two lovely parents who ran a successful business. When Jaehyun met Minyoung, I had a feeling that he really liked her, and I was right.”
“But she rejected him.” She frowns.
“Minyoung and Jaehyun were close friends, but not as close as the two of you. Jaehyun saw her as more than a close friend, but to her, he was just another business agreement. When she turned nineteen, her parents set her up on an arranged marriage. Jaehyun was devastated.”
You try to remember how Minyoung looked that night, and you don’t recall seeing a silver band on her fourth finger. 
“Minyoung rejected him and told him that arranged marriage or not, she only saw him as a friend. As for the arranged marriage, it fell through. Minyoung threatened her parents that she’ll tell the press about the arranged marriage if they didn’t let her live her life on her own decisions.” Jaehyun’s mother explains with dismay before taking a sip of her cup of coffee.
“She is beautiful,” you state, and she agrees with you.
“What I saw in Jaehyun was what I saw in you. While he pined after Minyoung, you pined after him.” She grins. “When Jaehyun got rejected, I was dying to tell him that there’s always been someone waiting for him. That someone was a beautiful young lady who’s always bickering with him, always standing beside him if it wasn’t Johnny, always there for him.”
She places her hand on top of yours and you smile.
“But I guess at the time, Jaehyun didn’t realize that that someone was you.”
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“I know that it’s quite unfortunate that we have to leave earlier than expected.”
You glance at Jaehyun’s mother who’s getting her makeup done. The original plan was that Jaehyun’s parents would be here for the holidays and go back to America in the middle of January. But due to circumstances related to the business, they have to fly back to America right after New Year’s Day. When Jaehyun’s parents broke the news out to the both of you, you both could feel nothing but relief. Once they’re gone, everything between the two of you goes back to normal and the fake relationship will be nothing but the past. 
“I know, I really wanted to spend more time with you.” You say softly. 
To your surprise, there was another business event happening tonight. You smile to yourself when you remember Jaehyun falling down to his knees, begging you to do him one last favour. And so here you were, getting your hair and makeup done with his mother before the event.
“This event is going to be quite interesting,” she sighs. “The Park’s and the Kim’s will be there.”
“The Kim’s?” 
“Minyoung and her family will be there.” She replies. “Not quite sure why, but I suppose the Park’s had brought them along because they’re business partners.”
“Maybe they want to propose a business merge?” You assume and she shakes her head.
“We can definitely merge with the Park’s, I have no problem working with them. But with the Kim’s? I’m not sure about that.” She says with a face filled with distaste. 
“Ah, I see.” You mumble.
“The idea of the Kim’s being at the event bothers me, but I’m not sure why.” She says, deep in thought. The makeup artist pulls up two shades of lipstick and asks her to choose one. As she points to the coral-shade lipstick, she glances at you. “Doesn’t it bother you too?”
“I feel slightly suspicious,” you reply. She hums in agreement.
As both of your makeup finishes up, you head towards the bedroom you and Jaehyun shared. As you walk in, you stop in your tracks when you see a box sitting on top of the bed. Your eyes read the label, and then widen like saucers when they read ‘Dior’. You shake your head to yourself, Jaehyun spoils you too much.
Opening the box, you see a white dress. In the box is another small box, and when you open it, it reveals a beautiful set of Chanel earrings. As you carefully take out the white dress, a note is stuck to the bottom of the box. You set the dress aside and pull out the note.
When I saw this dress, I thought that you’d look beautiful in it. As always. -Jaehyun
You stare at the dress and the guilt slowly starts to build up. You don’t deserve any of this. This wasn’t right. Once this act is done, Jaehyun would have to return the dress and the earrings. Once this act is done, all of your clothes will be packed away in your luggage. Once this act is done, Jaehyun will be dropping you off at your house. Once this act is done, you’ll be back to best friends.
Why did you agree to this?
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The night is still young and the Park’s arrive on time. The event turns out to be a reservation at a small event room, all three families are set to be seated at a long dining table. The Kim’s have yet to arrive, but as expected, they always arrive “fashionably late”. 
As per usual, Jaehyun looks stunning. He looks like a prince that’s ready to settle down and rule a whole kingdom. This time around, he’s dressed up in a black suit, tailored perfectly to his body proportions. As for you, you were dressed up in a white dress. The dress stops right at your feet, and the material is quite light that it flows effortlessly down your legs. It has a long slit that shows cleavage up to the middle of your thigh. 
“Miss Y/N, you look beautiful like always.” Mrs. Park greets you with a peck on the cheek. You smile and feel an arm wrap around your waist. You’re used to the feeling of Jaehyun’s arms around you, so this type of affection doesn’t surprise you anymore. 
“Thank you, Mrs. Park.” You giggle. Jaehyun rubs circles around the small of your back and you can feel yourself slightly shiver at the gesture. 
You look up at Jaehyun to find him already looking at you. He leans in to kiss your cheek. You feel your cheeks heat up. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks,” you mumble. “You look great yourself.”
“The Kim’s are arriving in a couple of minutes,” Jaehyun’s father announces just as he finishes up a phone call. He nods his head at Jaehyun. “Jaehyun, do you mind waiting for them outside? We wouldn’t want them getting lost on the way.”
“Sure,” Jaehyun says and his arm leaves your waist. You suddenly feel empty.
As Jaehyun heads out, there’s a small voice inside of you yelling for you to accompany him. You feel troubled, until you feel Jaehyun’s mother gently pat your shoulder. 
“Why don’t you go with Jaehyun?” Jaehyun’s mother insists, and it’s almost like she had read your mind. You nod your head and quickly catch up to Jaehyun.
The both of you stand at the entrance, waiting for some sort of luxury car to pull up. Soon enough, there’s a set of bright headlights that fall into your line of sight. Before the car pulls up, Jaehyun’s phone starts to ring. 
“I’ll be quick. It’s an important phone call,” he says softly, before excusing himself. Out of panic, you start to follow him because you don’t want to greet the Kim’s all alone. You’ve never met them personally. Heck, you don’t even know how they look like.
But as you’re following Jaehyun, you hear a car pull up to the entrance and quiet chatter. You stop in your tracks, looking over your shoulder to see Minyoung get out of the car along with her parents. She looks suspicious, you note to yourself. Her parents huddle around her and start talking to her in soft voices. You slowly walk up to a post and hide behind it to not make yourself seen. 
“Remember, we came here to merge with the Jung’s, alright?” 
“You did tell us that you’re interested in Jaehyun. This is your opportunity to make that happen.”
“That’s easy to do. Once I tell Jaehyun everything, he’ll leave that poor little girl for me instead.”
You frown. There’s a sudden urge for you to come out from hiding and get into a fight with them. But there’s that insecurity that you have within you that tells you that you’re nothing compared to Minyoung. What you do won’t be enough anyway. She had the power, the looks, and the money. 
As you hear them start to head inside the venue, you can hear Jaehyun greet them and guide them inside. You successfully come out of hiding and follow a couple metres behind them. Minyoung stares at Jaehyun with much conviction. She looks like a sly cat, suspicious and mysterious. She’s here for one thing and she will do everything in her power to get it.
“Ah, the Kim’s are here!” Jaehyun’s mother exclaims, hugging each one of them. As she hugs Minyoung, you can only softly snort to yourself when Minyoung hugs her a bit too tight. Jaehyun’s mother slightly pushes her away. “Seems like you missed me a lot, Minyoung.”
“Oh, I sure did, mother.” She smiles. If you weren’t so obvious, you would be shooting daggers at her at this moment. 
Jaehyun’s mother seems to wince at how Minyoung calls her, but shrugs it off as she catches up with Minyoung’s parents. 
“Shall we have dinner first?” Jaehyun insists and everyone agrees.
Everyone sits around the dining table and starts digging into their food. You watch each one of them as they speak, noticing how they speak with such grace and passion for their work. As for Jaehyun, you can’t help but admire how professional he looked when he spoke. There’s a special glint in his eyes that show how much he loves what he does. It was like being a CEO of a company was his fate. You can’t help but feel out of place sitting at a table with a bunch of business people. 
Jaehyun seems to notice how you’ve gone quiet. You feel someone’s hand grab yours from under the table and you slightly flinch in your seat. Glancing under the table, you relax when you see Jaehyun’s fingers interlock with yours. You look at him and he gives you a reassuring smile.
“Miss Y/N, you never really told us about what you do.” Mrs. Kim says, and she looks at you suspiciously. You knew what she had planned up her sleeve. “Do you run a business?”
You clear your throat and set your cutlery down onto the table. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t run a business. I graduated with a degree in human biology. I’m currently focused on research with a couple of colleagues that I graduated with.”
“Interesting.” Minyoung squints her eyes at you. “I wonder how Jaehyun seems to take interest in you. Aren’t your conversations a bit different? Jaehyun talks about business and you talk about… science. Isn’t it conflicting?”
“Well, they were both best friends before they dated so I’m sure having conversations with each other aren’t difficult.” Jaehyun’s mother butts in. 
“Once your research is done, what are your next plans?” It was now Mr. Kim’s turn to interrogate you. You feel quite uneasy at the sudden attention that’s been focused on you, and Jaehyun could tell. 
“Once we publish the research papers, we’re all going to venture off and do more research. The world is revolving and technology is improving, Mr. Kim. There are still more things in the world that we have yet to discover.” You say with passion and determination. “Don’t you think so, Mr. Kim?”
He looks quite taken aback. “Y-Yes, I think very much so, Miss Y/N.”
“Conversations with her are quite interesting,” Jaehyun butts in. “I love how she has such a positive outlook on the world around us. She’s doing much more for the world than you’ll ever know. I guess that’s why I love her so much.”
You share a look with Jaehyun and his parents and they seem to pick up what’s going on. Jaehyun sets his things aside and gets up. “Everything alright?”
He smiles at you. “I’ll have to excuse myself. I’ll be right back, just have to use the washroom.”
The conversation about you cuts short and the attention is soon directed to the Park’s. As you’re continuing to eat your meal and listen in on the conversation, you could see Minyoung slowly get up from her seat. 
“Excuse me,” she announces. “I’ll use the washroom really quickly.”
You shove a forkful of mushrooms into your mouth as you suspiciously watch her head out of the room. Once she’s out of sight, you glance at Jaehyun’s mother who nods her head. She reads your mind yet again. You get up from your seat and everyone looks at you.
“Sorry, excuse me. I’ll be back, I’ll thank the chef for cooking us a great meal tonight.”
Everyone smiles at you before you head out of the room. As you head towards the washrooms, you stop walking when you hear Minyoung giggle. You furrow your eyebrows, following the sound of her laughter. It leads you to another room. You spot the washrooms that are on the opposite end of the corridor. You frown. 
Her laughter seems to get louder and louder, until you find yourself standing in front of a door. You bite your lip to contain your anger when you hear Jaehyun mumbling something you can barely make out. You barge into the room and you can’t help but gasp.
Jaehyun’s sitting on a small couch and Minyoung’s sitting on his lap. She’s inches away from kissing him. You can’t help but laugh to yourself. Jaehyun didn’t even bother pushing her off of him. When they hear you laugh, they glance at you in shock.
“Sorry, I thought this was the washroom.” You chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. “I guess I’ll leave you two some privacy unless you two want me to cause a scene.”
“Y/N, I can explain—”
“You don’t need to.” You cut Jaehyun off. “I suggest you leave, Minyoung, before I tell everyone what you had just planned on doing.”
She smirks, rolling her eyes at you. She shows no shame as she leaves the room, bumping your shoulder while she’s at it. You glance at Jaehyun with disbelief.
“Y/N, I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to say sorry to me.” You shake your head. “We’re not dating, right? This is all just an act, right?”
“I had no idea what she was trying to do—”
“And yet you let her sit on your lap? Unbelievable, Jae!” You feel tears start to well up in your eyes. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”
“I’m not.”
You scoff. “You know, throughout this whole thing, I found it difficult to be around you. I don’t even know why I agreed to this in the first place. And then when your parents came, I started to feel guilty because we were putting on a show for them. But then I started to feel bad for myself, because I didn’t think I would stoop this low for you to realize something, to realize that the feelings that I have for you are different.”
“What feelings, Y/N? We’re not dating—”
“And that’s it! That’s the problem! We’re not dating!” You yell. “I’d always forget that this is fake because a part of me felt that this was real. But what you did just now just showed me how much of a fool you are, Jae. While you’re still in love with a woman who only wants your money, you’re hurting someone else in the process of it all. And that someone doesn’t want your money, she just wants you.”
Jaehyun can only fall silent in shock. It was all starting to add up for him. You watch him as he starts to consume your words and realize what they truly meant. He frustratingly runs his fingers through his hair. He’s at a loss for words. You’re in love with him. He’s not sure when you started feeling this way for him, but it was all starting to make sense. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry.” That’s all he could manage to say. 
You sigh. “I’m sorry too, Jae, because I don’t think I can do this much longer. I’m sure you can figure out an explanation to tell your parents.”
“Y/N—”
“And I guess I should say sorry to myself for falling in love with you, because even though I knew that you didn’t feel the same way, I still tried. I gave it a chance because of that small sliver of hope.” 
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Being heartbroken is a mess. It’s a mess that you never asked for. But maybe you deserved it. You’ve run out of tears and you’ve run out of energy to be sad. Scattered all over your bed are used up Kleenex tissues and empty Kleenex boxes. Your phone never seems to stop ringing, but you don’t even bother looking at it. Johnny has tried reaching out to you, but you can’t bring yourself to facing him. You’re not even sure what day it is, because you’ve spent so much time crying yourself to sleep and forcing yourself to get out of bed. You wondered if Jaehyun felt the same, but you could only laugh at yourself. He was probably doing just fine. 
No, it’s not just a ‘maybe you deserved it’. You did deserve it. You deserved to get your heart broken. You had set this all up for failure, and you were stupid enough to think that you’d get the benefit of the doubt.
But it’s too late to blame yourself now. You have no choice but to move on. Jaehyun probably got together with Minyoung. This was what he wanted, right? 
Your thoughts are cut short when you hear someone knock on the door. You force yourself out of bed for the first time this week, trudging towards the door. Looking through the peephole to see who it is, you feel your heart stop when you see Jaehyun’s mother standing outside.
You hesitate. You ponder whether you should pretend like no one’s home until she goes away or actually letting her into your home. You decide to open the door.
Jaehyun’s mother looks at you in shock and sadness. “Y/N?”
“Hi, mother.” You say in a soft voice. “Would you like to come in?”
She makes herself comfortable in your home, seeing little bits and pieces of your childhood that you brought along with you when you moved out. She stops and looks at a framed picture of you and Jaehyun on his seventh birthday hung up on the wall.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush but,” she says as she averts her gaze away from the picture. “Jaehyun told me everything.”
“I’m sorry,” you say barely above a whisper. You’re surprised that she’s not mad at you. You’re more surprised that she’s grinning at you.
“It’s okay.” She mumbles. “I just wanted to see if you were doing alright.”
“Well, honestly, I feel devastated.” You shrug your shoulders. “But I guess that’s just how things were supposed to end up. I’m so sorry for what we’ve done, we truly didn’t mean it. Jaehyun just wanted you to be happy for him, so I guess this whole ‘relationship’ gone way out of hand.”
“He explained why he did it and apologized. I’m not mad.” She reassures you. “I kind of wished that it was real. But when Jaehyun told me the truth, I couldn’t help but wonder how you were feeling.”
“I’m holding up fine. I guess with time, I’ll be alright, and things will go back to normal.” She’s aching to reach out to you, because the bags underneath your eyes tell her a different story. “Is Jaehyun doing alright?”
“This is why I admire you,” she smiles. “You’re selfless. You think about others than yourself.”
You can’t seem to say anything to that. She can’t seem to understand how horrible you must feel. “How’d you know that I was in love with Jaehyun?”
“I could see it, Y/N.” She replies. “You look at him like he’s your world. In your eyes, I see nothing but love… but also fear. I think it must be because you’re afraid to tell him how you truly feel. You fear that once you tell him, you’ll end up losing him forever.”
“I guess the heart never lies.” You chuckle.
“I’m not in the right place to tell you whether Jaehyun returns the same feelings or not but,” she sighs, “if he doesn’t feel the same way, then he’s truly missing out on someone special.”
“I don’t want to lose him.” 
“I know you don’t. But just give him some time, and maybe it’ll be enough for him to recollect his thoughts and realize things.” She suggests. “In the meantime, rest well, alright, Y/N? For me, and for Jaehyun.”
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Jaehyun’s been a mess since the dinner with the Park’s and Kim’s. He’s been cooped up in his room almost everyday. The only time he would come out of his room would be for his meals. He explained and told the truth to his parents, and he was glad that they didn’t get mad at him. His parents had left for America the day before, and now he’s left all alone in his mansion. 
Every night, he would step out onto the balcony and stare up at the moon. It was the closest thing he could have that resembles you. Your words echo in his mind, haunting him. 
After washing up before going to bed, he turns on some music before stepping out onto the balcony. The moon is covered by clouds tonight, but he could still see it shine peacefully. He can’t stop thinking about you. 
He’s not sure about his feelings for you, but what he’s sure of is that you’re someone different than the rest. You’re someone special and he can’t afford losing you. He’s aware that his heart beats differently whenever you’re around. He’s aware that you see him in a different light, and that it’s been this way for almost all your life. 
He’s sure that he doesn’t deserve you. But he feels a little selfish. He wants to have you all to himself. He can’t seem to bear the thought of you belonging to someone else. Even the imagination of you standing at the altar with someone else makes him feel sick. 
“Am I too late?” He thinks aloud, looking at the moon as if it had an answer for him.
But his phone buzzes in his pocket, and his phone itself has an answer to his thoughts.
y/n (10:43 pm): can we meet up?
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The river flows peacefully, flowing at its own pace. It’s gloomy outside with the wind a bit chillier than usual. You hug yourself, bracing the chilly wind that breezes by. A couple passes by, and you can’t help but stare at them. They’re holding hands until the man places their interlocked hands into his pocket. You inwardly sigh. 
From afar, you can hear faint footsteps get louder and louder, crunching dried, fallen leaves. You look over your shoulder to see Jaehyun approaching you. He has two cups of warm coffee. You smile when he arrives. He hands you your drink and you mumble a soft ‘thanks’ before he sits next to you.
The both of you sit against a tree in silence. After Jaehyun’s mother dropped by to talk to you, you figured that the best way to resolve this is to be lighter about it. This whole situation was planned for failure, and the both of you let your emotions get the best of it. Things got out of hand. 
“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun breaks the silence. 
“Me too.” You purse your lips into a tight line. “I shouldn’t have left everything on you like that.”
“And I shouldn’t have dismissed your emotions like it was nothing,” he adds. “Your emotions are valid, you know? It was rude of me to brush it off like it was nothing.”
“I accept your apology.” You smile. 
“I accept yours as well, even though you shouldn’t be apologizing. You did nothing wrong.” He glances at you and he feels blinded by your smile. His heart skips a beat. “But do you mind hearing me out?”
You look at him confusedly. “Is there anything else to explain?”
He tears his gaze away from you to look at the river. You stare at him, waiting for him to continue. “That night when we came back from the business event in Milan, I knew that you would remember the kiss we shared. But I also knew that you wouldn’t remember the words you said to me before you knocked out.”
“What did I say?” You question.
“You said you loved me,” he replies softly. You feel your cheeks flush. “It made me wonder. When Joohyuk stared at you like that, I didn’t feel good about it. I saw you and Joohyuk at the restaurant patio from our hotel room, and it forced me to get out of bed.”
“I don’t like Joohyuk that way.” You chuckle. “Trust me.”
“I know, but it looked like he liked you.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And I hated it. But I disregarded my feelings because I thought, why would I feel this way? You’re just my best friend. But then I remembered seeing you in that dress for the first time, and it was like time had stopped. It was like it was just the two of us in that room.”
You feel yourself slowly smile. Where was this going?
“And then I realized that I never told you about Minyoung. I wondered why you never knew, and why I never bothered to tell you. I remembered the night I told Minyoung my feelings for her and coming home after being rejected only to find you sitting on the couch with Chinese takeout. It was funny that out of all days to confess, I confessed to her on my birthday.”
He glances at you and you both chuckle. Out of nowhere, Jaehyun grabs your hand in his. 
“When I saw that picture of you and I on my seventh birthday up on your wall, I wondered, why would you keep such a photo?” He says. “And when my parents started talking about how they knew we’d end up together and when my father told me that he always had a feeling that you saw me as more than a friend, it was all starting to make sense.”
“But then how about when I caught you and Minyoung?”
He grimaces. “Minyoung told me that her parents were planning on setting her up for another marriage, but they gave her freedom of choice. She chose me. It made me realize that I was just a business transaction to her, as if my confession for her didn’t matter. I said no, because you and I were together, and something inside of me was dying for those words to be true.”
“But she almost kissed you?” He hums in reply.
“When I said no, she forced herself on me, and then you came in.” He explains. “It was all just bad timing.”
“Minyoung will really go out of her way to get something she wants, huh?” You frown and Jaehyun shrugs his shoulders.
“It’s okay, she can’t have me.” He smiles. “I’m all yours.”
“Since when?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t remember you confessing to me.”
“Did I not just confess to you right now?” He pouts.
You look away from him to hide the grin spreading across your lips. “Did you not? I don’t know, I might have to hear it again.”
“Y/N,” he whines. 
“Okay, I’m just playing with you.” You glance at him. “But maybe I really want to hear it again.”
The both of you stare at each other. Jaehyun feels time slow down and his heartbeat pick up. You were easy to read now. Your soft brown eyes show nothing but love and warmth the moment he looks into them. A faint smile replaces the grin on your face when you see your own reflection in Jaehyun’s eyes. 
“I’m in love with you,” he whispers. “I think I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, but was too blind to see it.”
“Yeah,” you pinch his cheeks. “You might need to get a pair of glasses to fix that.”
“You’re not going to say it back?”
“Say what, back?” You tease and he pouts.
“I take it back, then—”
“Fine!” You cut him off. “I’m in love with you, Jae. I’ve been in love with you since we were seven, since your seventh birthday, to be exact. That’s why I have that photo up on my wall.”
“Really?”
You smile. “Really.”
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One year later…
“Quick! He’s arriving in five minutes!”
Jaehyun’s mother scurries around the kitchen with a pot filled with kimchi stew while Jaehyun’s father washes up the last set of dirty dishes. The mansion has been empty for the past week because Jaehyun had been travelling to several business events. His parents had decided to arrive home earlier than Jaehyun was informed off, to surprise him just like last year. 
“He said he would be home by seven! It’s only five!”
“Maybe his flight landed earlier? I don’t know!”
The both of them are scurrying around the dining table, making sure everything is set up perfectly. They set up three plates and glasses along with three pairs of cutlery just for the family. The dining table is colourful with several dishes Jaehyun’s mother had cooked for him. 
Five minutes soon become ten seconds and the both of them are fixing up the Christmas tree. Soon enough, there’s a knock at the door. The both of them glance at each other and let out a huff of breath. As they both head towards the door, Jaehyun’s mother dusts off her apron before opening it. His parents could only stare in shock.
“Welcome home—”
“Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad. Meet my girlfriend, Y/N.”
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author’s note: it’s finally done! ahhhh!! after so much interruptions, it’s finally done. i’m just happy that it’s done. i’m so sorry for having you wait for so long. but here it is :-) i hope you liked it and i wish you a happy new year! 
i’m also wondering if i should do a drabble game where i post a list of AUs, prompts, and genres for you to choose from and i’ll write something short in return. what do you think?
let me know what you think! comments, feedback, questions? hmu!
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