#yangyang x f!reader
Note
GIRL!! I just read your Lino fic and 🧎🏻♀️
I see your rqs are about to close so I was hoping maybe you could do a little sumthn sumthn angsty for my boy YangYang? I'd prefer F!reader and sumthn like you broke up and get kinda really jealous seeing him at a party with some girl and maybe you get back together maybe ya don't I'll leave that up to your creative mind? Could you also add Renjun and Xiaojun in as well, like a friend group type thing? I know this is a lot and maybe too detailed but like I NEED more angst from you plz and thank you 😩
Take care and stay hydrated 🤍
Scorched Auroras
PAIRING - YangYang x F!Reader (ft. Renjun & Xiaojun)
SYNOPSIS - You've had your regrets over the years, it's a part of the human experience. But nothing will ever compare to the pain of Him walking out of your life.
WORDCOUNT - 4.4k
WARNINGS - All around Angst, Cheating, Lies, Descriptions of Anxiety Attack, Heated Arguments, Exes to ???, Mentions of Alcohol, Reader wears feminine clothes (dress, heels, etc.), Renjun's kind of a dick in this... he's just trying to help, YangYang is also a dick but it's well-deserved || Let me know if I've missed anything!
A/N - The way I've been wanting to write more angst after that Minho fic, but I've just not gotten around to it... 😔 Thanks for the request, Darling! ngl I spent more time rereading this than I did writing this to the point that I have no idea if this is as good as I originally thought it was, (we love inconvenient writers block) so feedback would be greatly appreciated. And to all you YangYang girlies 👋🏻 I'm sorry for this.
“Huang Renjun, when I find your sorry ass…”
Your heels reverberate against the floors of the house, quick and staccato as you seek out the host of the party. This was supposed to be a chill little get together with mutual friends; all put together by Renjun. Same people. Same place. But when you walked through the front door, you’d been paralyzed.
Through the hall - between the mass of bodies that danced and conversed with each other - you had spotted Liu YangYang sitting pretty on the leather sofa, strumming away on his six-string. His eyes had found yours, and that genuine smile on his face had faded, his brows knitting as he blinked and looked away. He was surrounded by mutual friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the group of girls that sat like a pride of lions around him.
Funny enough, looking around the house… this party? Not so little or so mutual. In fact, you’re almost certain there’s friends of friends here, migrating up the stairs that you’ve just traversed. And the majority of them have been gathered around your ex-boyfriend for the past hour like he was the main entertainment of the evening.
So here you are, with a handful of drinks in you and your patience dwindling. You huff, sparing glances through open doors and knocking on others down the hall until you’re finally directed to Renjun’s bedroom by a random party-goer.
“Renjun!” your knuckles rap on the door, calling over the back beat of the blaring music. “I know you’re in there! Open the damn door!”
When there’s no answer, you grunt and knock louder. There’s no doubt he can hear you, your fist aching with every hit to the wood grain. The door opens, a very buzzed Renjun appearing before you.
“Fuck, where’s the fire!?”
You shoot him a glare, leaning against the door frame.
“We need to talk.”
“I’m a little busy at the moment.” He chuckles, glancing over his shoulder. It’s now that you notice the wrinkles in his clothes, his dark hair an unruly mess that he attempts to fix by carding his fingers through the tresses. The smear of red at the corner of his mouth has you narrowing your eyes. You scoff.
“Yeah… busy.”
Renjun stumbles, your hand darting out to snatch at the collar of his white tee. His protests fall on deaf ears as you pull him down the hall towards his makeshift studio. He knows he’s not going anywhere, even as he attempts to wretch your fingers from the fabric.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” The heavy bass drums steady in your chest as you yank Renjun into the room. The moment your past the threshold, you let him go, slamming the door behind you.
“Hey, easy!”
“You lied to me.”
Renjun lets loose an exasperated chuckle, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt.
“I wish I knew what you were talking about.” he says, raising his brow. There’s a ghost of amusement playing on his face. He knows. It only fuels your aggravation.
“Oh, YangYang won’t be there, I promise.” You mock the words he’d told you over a FaceTime call just a few days ago. Renjun meets your glare evenly, seemingly unimpressed. He rolls his eyes when you cross your arms.
“I didn’t know he’d come. He told me he had something planned tonight.”
“Right, fucking fat chance that he’s sitting right where I’d catch him cozied up around a bonfire of girls.”
“The perfect place to play a guitar.” he quips. Your eyes narrow, following his movements as he turns toward the random clutter in the studio.
“You know how much I hate this version of Renjun.”
“Which one?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his tone. He stops at his desk, rearranging strewn journals and crumpled pages that have nearly landed in the bin beside the workspace.
“The one that plays dumb just to get out of answering me.”
“I do not-”
“You do!” you bite, feet situating themselves under your weight. You level the brunette with a pointed look.
“You’re holding out on me, I can tell. So, are you gonna spill or what?”
You watch the cogs turn behind his eyes, bringing a hand up to rub at his brow, clearly frustrated with the way this conversation is going. Brown eyes shift from the far wall, dropping the journals on the desk. He turns to you, a look crossing his face that you can’t pinpoint.
“I already told you, I had no idea he was gonna be here, okay? I asked him if he was coming and he said no.” Renjun glances to your form and the way you’re seemingly guarding the door like a well-trained hound. “I didn’t openly invite him. He showed up on his own. Any reason you’re so pissed about that?”
The question catches you off guard. Any reason you’re so pissed about that? What, with the way things ended, you certainly have no right to be. Ignoring the stabbing in your chest, you lick your lips, nails digging into your forearm. He catches the way you shift, spine straightening against the wall.
“What kind of question is that?” you ask, voice clipped.
“A valid one.” Renjun replies, leaning against his desk. There’s that casual air that he exudes as his eyes rake down your body. Observing. Your choice in outfit; that little black dress, the time you put into your hair and makeup, those stilettos. Renjun knows you don’t put that amount of time into going out unless it means something.
He clicks his tongue, blinks. Bourbon swirls with some kind of intent.
“You’re the one who broke up with him, remember? Although I’ve gotta say, if looks could kill, those girls fawning over him would be dead at his feet.”
“Watch your words, Huang.” you warn, a sharpness to your tone that leaves the guy unbothered.
“I haven’t said a thing… it’s called observing.” His voice is cool as ice, arms coming to cross over his chest.
“You’re implying.”
He laughs, snake eyes pinning him where he stands.
“I’m just stating the facts.”
“You want facts?” You close the distance between you and Renjun so quickly, he doesn’t have time to react before you’re right in his face, “You know exactly what the hell you did. You knew how much I didn’t want him here, it’s why I asked you when you invited me. You made a promise that you blew to the wind.”
Your voice is calm but tight - like a rubber band pulled to its limits. You can’t bring yourself to care about how you come across at this point. Not when there’s seven vodka shots warming your veins, clouding all rationality. Your patience is gone as you glare up at the man, watching as a dark brow twitches behind stray tresses. You’re done playing his stupid little game.
The tink of plastic against metal hits your ears as Renjun swipes a broken guitar pick off the desk into the trash bin, eyes deadlocked on the sneer that’s prying at your lips. For a second, he mulls over his actions that led up to this point. Perhaps he’s being a bit of an ass, but you’ve put off talking things out with YangYang for months. He's felt the strain it's put on the group dynamic, and he’s sick of hearing you both say everything is fine. How can two people be fine when they can’t tolerate being in the same room together? And now you come to him like he’s done you wrong, like what he’s done is unforgivable… Renjun doesn’t get it.
A knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts.
“Renjun, you in here? Some jackass is-”
The door opens, Xiaojun stopping short at the sight before him. The tense charge in the room hits him like a tidal wave, and the scowl that etches your face doesn’t give him much room to speculate.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt.” he says, looking between you two. Renjun scratches at his neck, clearing his throat.
“What is it, man?”
“There���s some guy starting shit by the pool. Thought it’d be a job for the host.”
“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”
Xiaojun nods, giving you both one last fleeting glance before the door closes. When the footsteps fade into nothing but reverberating bass, Renjun slips out of the space between you and the desk.
“Where are you going?”
“To take care of damage control, as you just heard.” He turns toward the door with a finality that says this conversation is well over. If you weren’t buzzing, were in your right state of mind, you would have let him go. But the addition of alcohol only egged on your unbridled emotions.
“No, we’re not done talking.” You hiss, a hand darting out to catch his wrist. Renjun groans, and you hear your name slip off his tongue like a bad omen as he aggressively shrugs you off him.
“Stop! Just-” He turns his back to the door, looking at you like you’ve lost your mind. You look on with wide eyes as he takes a deep breath, brows twitching. “You both said that you broke up because things weren’t working out. Something about schedules and other conflicting shit…”
He shakes his head, optics flickering over your face, searching for some sort of answer as to why you're reacting this way. When your shoulders sag, he knows enough. You’re closing off, and as much as Renjun wants to be the friend that mothers you back to good spirits with a gentle hand, it seems that isn’t gonna work. The way you approached this tonight has him clutching at his last straw.
“It’s not my business but-”
“You’re right, it’s not your business-”
“But you decided to make it my business when you pulled me in here and fucking interrogated me! That alone tells me there’s more to the story than you two have let on.” You press you lips together, optics locking onto the far wall. You hear the steady release of a sigh, the rattling of the door knob under his palm. “You’ve been friends for years. You never let the simple things interfere back then.”
“Romantic relationships are different, Renjun.” You don’t need to meet those eyes to know he’s unconvinced.
“You’re impossible…” He mutters. The floorboards groan under his feet as he turns back toward the door, shoulders tight under the fabric of his shirt.
“This conversation is going nowhere. I don’t know why you dragged me in here and grilled me about the one person you don’t want to talk about, but I have a party to host.” His fingers grip the door knob and twist, amber eyes meeting yours over his shoulder.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on between you two, but you need to talk to him. Before the fallout ruins this friend group.”
The door slams shut, and you blink as Renjun’s heavy footfalls fade down the hall. His words sink in. He’s right. You sag against the wall, letting your head fall against the drywall, trying to process everything that just happened. Releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as the liquor takes another round through your hazy mind. The threat of tears infect your vision, burning even as you attempt to blink them away.
“Fuck.” you hiss, fingers coming to press against the junction of your nose bridge and the corners of your eyes until the pressure conjures rainbow static behind your lids. “Fuck. Fuck!”
You’re ready to leave. Ready to leave this party, block phone numbers and move out of the country if it means you don’t have to face the one person you regret hurting. Selfish, really, but in your current state of mind, it sounds like heaven. You’ve let this situation hang over your head for the past eight months, praying it would go away on it’s own. It’s obvious no God will let you off that easily.
God damn…
Your feet are moving before you can think any further, the studio door left ajar as your figure strides down the hall and descends the stairs. You need a glass of water to clear your head, something to prepare yourself for what’s about to happen. Optics dart to the sofa, where YangYang has been most of the evening, but he’s no longer there. The guitar leans against the wall, propped up with the help of the sofa's armrest. You bee-line for the kitchen.
The main space between the living room and kitchen has significantly dwindled to a small group of people, and you remember what Xiaojun had said about the shit starter by the pool. A simple glance to the back patio tells you that’s where everyone has gone. Empty cups and snack trays are left behind, alongside a few couples making out in the corner, and the few people conversing near the kitchen island, including Xiaojun. He greets you with a soft smile, offering you another drink that you graciously decline.
“You good?” he asks, smile fading into furrowed brows.
“Yeah, I think I’m over the alcohol for tonight.” you mutter, taking an chilled water bottle from the cooler. “Do you know where YangYang ran off to?”
“Last I saw him, he looked like he was leaving for the night.” he replies, taking another swig of his beverage. You blink, cracking the cap on the bottle and bringing it to your lips in one swift motion. Despite the amount of alcohol you’ve had in such a short amount of time, the water you take down washes away your brain fog, and you turn toward the front door with a newfound clarity.
YangYang isn’t gone. You know him well enough. And you’re ready to face him. You have to be. Because you aren’t leaving here until you set things right.
You pat Xiaojun on the shoulder as you leave, a quiet thanks uttered as you force yourself to move toward the exit, fingers latching on the handle.
The cool night air washes over your skin, but you welcome the instantaneous sobering up it provides. It’s quiet out here, as quiet as a house party can get for the chatter and music, crickets chirping in the protection of well-manicured shrubs. With a quick scan of your surroundings, you find who you’re looking for.
Liu YangYang stands at the far corner of the porch, leaning against the railing with his back to you. He’d be unnoticeable by most people, shrouded in October shadows.
You’re not most people.
It’s as if the world falls still in the time it takes you to walk over, your stomach swirling like a blender on full power. He’s by himself out here. That makes it easier, right? You let out a shaky breath, the sudden urge to bolt over the railing and disappear into the woods like a spooked fawn flooding your veins. But you don’t. You can’t.
“We need to talk.” you pipe up, clearing your throat in an attempt to hide the tremor in your voice. Black hair falls into brown eyes, a grunt of your name passing his lips at the sound of your voice. You never want to hear him say your name like that again. Like you're the scum of the earth.
“Heard you were pretty pissed about my being here.” he says. Even under his sweater, you can see how taught his back muscles are, how he's trying to hold himself back. Your eyes slip shut.
Renjun… He must have caught up with YangYang before you could make it downstairs. You let the curses slip to the back of your mind, focusing on the matter at hand. You know this doesn’t have to be hard. Just a short, civil conversation between you and your ex. With a lick of your lips, you try again.
“YangYang, I’m-”
“You know, it’s really fucking insulting to hear that.” He brings the half-full solo cup in his hand to his lips, taking the rest of his drink down in one go. Dark optics stare blankly toward the dimly lit street. “Especially when you’ve avoided me for the past eight months. When no one else knows the truth about you.”
You swallow hard at his comment, staring at the foot that he can't stop tapping against the porch.
“I don’t wanna fight with you, YangYang.” you say, taking a step toward him, “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I need to talk to you.”
You hear the huff of a scoff, and he turns just enough to lock eyes with you from over his shoulder, pupils digging into you from the corners.
“Better eight months late than never.”
“YangYang-”
“What?” he interjects, snapping like a cornered fox, “Too busy with them to come to me sooner with your bullshit excuses?”
YangYang doesn’t need to face you to get his emotions across. You’ve never had trouble deciphering whether he was emotionally six feet under or floating on cloud nine. But now, you feel like you’re Gaia up against the raw power of Helios; a violent storm of solar particles slamming against you in his attempts to protect his heart from freezing over.
The auroras of scorched and unspoken truths. Your magnetic field is battered and bruised too significantly to sustain such a blow.
That’s on you, you know. You’d come to the realization eight months ago when you took that sledgehammer to a decade of friendship. A decade of trust that transformed into so much more. An angel of a boy that you threw away - tore his wings from his back for good measure.
You shake your head, that fire burning behind your eyes.
“You’re not being fair, here.” You whisper, and as much as you don’t want this conversation to escalate, you know there’s no stopping it. You flinch when he whips around, wild eyes boring into yours, a snarl threatening to break the crease of his lips. He points a finger at you.
“You cheated, Love! You!” The term of endearment is anything but; poison on the tongue that used to serenade you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He is the ferocity of a rabid dog in the form of gnashing teeth and beady eyes, panting and growling in warning when you try to console it.
“Two years together! Thirteen years of friendship and trust that you so easily struck a match to like that?! Fucking treated me like I was an afterthought in your daily schedule while we were still together! The nights you came home and lied through your teeth, telling me you were working late… that you were out with friends… Fuck, I even felt you pulling away and I still tried telling myself that I was crazy. No, no, you wouldn’t do that to me. We’ve been through so much together. Fucking fool, I am!”
You watch him through the glaze of tears as he stalks toward you. The hurt in his eyes burns like a serrated knife, slicing away at the worn and ruptured threads of your relationship that scream with every threat of the blade.
“So, no, you don't get to tell me I'm being unfair! I saw the way you watched me tonight. You probably don't realize how many drinks you had because you were too busy raising your hackles at the girls that I was talking to. Ran off to light a fire under Renjun's ass because things didn't go your way.”
Your heart pounds against your breast, your pulse violent in your fingertips. In your head, this conversation played out with less hostility. You expected some anger - it’s only fair with the pain you put him through - but this was another level entirely. In all your years of knowing YangYang, he’d never blown up like this.
Never at you.
Never because of you.
This isn’t the boy that you would race to school every morning, who dried your tears and rubbed the rocks from your knees when you tripped yourself. The one who would send you dumb memes in the middle of class, and took accountability so you weren't sitting in detention alone. Who bought you a promise ring for your ten years of being friends, and another when you celebrated two years of dating.
Your rock in the toughest situations and you threw him into the ocean with little thought. Didn't even watch as he sank to the depths.
You blink, feeling the tears track down you cheeks as you speak.
“I never wanted to hurt you like I did, and I should’ve talked to you about this months ago. I’ve…” You hesitate, “I’ve been think about that night a lot.”
“Good.” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“It was a mistake, and I can’t even give you a good reason for it.” you whimper, breath catching in your throat, “I’m so sorry, YangYang. I-I wasn’t thinking straight. I never should’ve-”
Words fail you, your composure breaking with a burst of tears that hits so suddenly, it's impossible to breathe. You hug yourself with trembling arms, nails digging into your palms.
“I don’t want this to be it for us,” you say, your words strangled as you try to wrangle in your tears, “there has to be a way to fix this!”
He’s close enough to touch, and you reach out with little thought, pulling him into you, wrapping your arms around his torso. Your fingers grip into the back of his sweater as you sob into his shoulder, your body shaking with every strangled hiccup.
YangYang doesn’t move, doesn't push you off. He just stands here. There’s no warm embrace enveloping your frame, no tears to share with you. It’s like you’re hugging a stone statue, the body heat that he exudes being some sort of sick joke when all you feel is the chill of a vacant shell.
“Please, tell me what I can do to fix it!” The plea hangs over you like a specter, ghastly fingers wrapping tight around your throat. The silence grows long, nothing more than faint strains of music drifting through the cracks of the windows and doors of the house, carrying some hint of life beyond the two of you. You almost wish he’d begin to yell again, growl about the extent of which you’ve hurt him. Anything but this indifference, this apathy towards the one girl he’s given everything to. But this… this feels like him finally giving up. Like he’s finally decided that you aren’t worth the trouble anymore. You don’t want to accept it, but every second that ticks by is like another nail in the coffin.
You pull away, fingers twitching as they come up to cradle his jaw. The muscles under the flesh tenses, and he recoils from your touch like it’s physically hurting him, looking off across the street with a hollow gaze. It’s a tortuously long moment before he levels you with those brown eyes. They’re dull when they look at you now; worlds away. A fresh grave, its soil rejecting any and all growth, no flowers, no grass. Seeds greedily plucked from the ground by songbirds and rodents. No one to care for the plot when the soul’s story is made up of little white lies. He watches from the corner of his eye as the tears collect on mascara-laden lashes, the makeup mixing with the liquid as it trickles down and off your chin.
“I don’t want it to be over either,” he admits. A stray tear falls from his lash line, but there’s a void of emotion in his tone. “But…”
There’s that pause again, and you can’t handle it this time. The knot in your chest tightens like a vice, brows pulling inward when he goes to take a step backward. You shake your head, his name sputtering from your lips like it’s the only thing that could offer a modicum of comfort.
“I love you, YangYang,” you say the words quickly, desperately, clinging to his arms as he spares you nothing more than a glance. “I still do, please, please don’t- don’t do this! I’m sorry!”
“That’s the same dress.”
You look up with wide eyes, jaw slack as you sniffle.
“What?”
“You wore that dress the night you came home drunk with them.” he says.
You glance down at the fabric hugging your figure, the memories from that night coming back to you in what little fragments you can remember. Clinging to their shirt as you both laughed between kisses, the clumsy fumble of your key in the lock. You had woke up to them in your bed, a raging hangover, and your boyfriend sitting on the couch in silence when you went searching for a glass of water and an Aspirin. You don't remember doing anything more than kissing, but cheating was cheating. And YangYang had been livid.
He shakes his head, laughs incredulously. “You’re insane. You're dead to me.”
“YangYang, I-” is all you can get out before he’s pulling away again, shoving you off him with enough force to send you staggering to your knees. For a moment you sit there in a stunned stupor, your hands splayed over the wood grain of the porch, gasping for breath as you openly sob. Composing yourself at this point is impossible, anxiety clutching at your lungs like a serpent’s stranglehold. Your legs tremble, eyes burning with unspent tears. He hasn’t walked away yet, and for a moment you think maybe there’s some semblance of salvaging this until-
“Don’t come crawling back to me when they put you through the same shit you put me through. Fucking cry yourself to sleep.”
It’s the last thing he says, storming off as he passes your heaving frame with little more than a glance. Down the front steps. Down the path to the side walk. It’s over. You choke back sobs as you fight for oxygen, numb to the feeling of warm hands on your back. Through the onslaught of tears, you recognize the shoe beside your knee as Xiaojun’s.
You try to focus on his voice, listening to each syllable as he murmurs your name in your ear and his attempts to guide you out of this frantic head space, but all you can focus on is the black hole manifesting within your chest. Your heart is like lead at your feet, your lungs burn, and your ears ring to a fever pitch.
YangYang’s words ring in your head like a death knell. The bell’s final toll signaling the end as the shadow of the man you knew disappears down the street.
You have no one to blame but yourself.
Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!
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change your mind yet?
pairing: haechan x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol
summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).
word count: 4.6k
a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol
You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.
Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.
It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.
Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.
So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.
Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.
When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.
“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”
Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”
He shrugs, “Afterwards.”
You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.
So, Donghyuck cornered you.
There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.
“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”
“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”
“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”
Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.
“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.
“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”
You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”
“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”
God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.
“No.”
Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”
“No,” you repeat.
You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.
“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.
He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.
Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.
You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.
This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.
Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.
“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”
He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.
So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.
This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—
Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”
You spoke too soon.
“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.
Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”
You sigh. “Where?”
He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.
A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.
After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.
Then he does exactly that.
“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”
You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.
“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.
You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”
You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.
“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.
So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”
You stand your ground. “No.”
“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.
Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”
“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”
“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”
“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”
You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”
“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”
You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.
In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.
Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.
Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.
Then, the timer chimes.
“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.
He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”
God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.
“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”
He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”
You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.
“On the bed,” he instructs.
You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.
Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.
“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”
“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.
He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.
Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”
“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.
Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”
“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.
“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”
Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.
Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.
Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”
“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”
Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.
Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.
There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”
Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.
His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”
Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.
So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.
“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”
“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.
“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”
If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.
Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.
“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.
Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.
He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”
You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.
He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”
That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.
That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.
“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.
He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—
“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.
His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”
“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”
“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?
“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”
“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”
“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”
Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.
“Yo, I just realized something.”
“What?”
Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”
Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.
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the way life goes — six(final). (n.jm)
PAIRING: na jaemin x reader
GENRE: angst, fluff, smut, college au
WORD COUNT: 18.5k
SYNOPSIS: it's crazy how everything had came to be in your life, you didn't expect anything to happen the way it did. but you suppose that's the way life goes.
CHAPTERS WARNINGS: absolute mess and head fuck as twlg always is, angsty just how i like it, mentions of heavy emotions, dumb reader and jaemin moments, eunbin and jaemin moments, mentions of alcohol and weed, explicit language (a lot of cursing), kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex,
[series m.list]
Jaemin sleeps soundly for the first time that night.
He would argue that it’s probably the best sleep he’s had in ages—covered in blankets, wrapped up in your arms with his head resting on your chest, legs tangled together… he felt at peace.
He’s pretty sure he dreamt for the first time too. No recurring nightmares appearing or dreamless nights where he wakes up groggy, confused and lonely.
He dreamt. He dreamt of him, he dreamt of you. You looked so pretty—you always look pretty. You were smiling, you were laughing all while holding onto his arm and pointing at the sky. The sun was setting; a mixture of yellows, oranges and pinks. It would’ve been a beautiful picture to capture, especially with your silhouette in the shot.
The group were there too, running across that sand barefooted, screaming and shouting as the cold sea came to shore. But he wasn’t focused on them. He has his eyes set on you.
But, much to his dismay, he wakes up before he can even finish the dream, and he wakes up alone.
His hand runs across the bed, a frown settling on his features at the cold touch of the sheets pricks his fingertips. Jaemin lifts himself up on his elbows as he stares at the empty spot with fuzzy vision, hair sticking in different directions and muscles aching.
You’ve been out of bed for a while, He thinks while he sits up, sleeping rubbing at his face as he swings his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He wobbles across his floorboards, blindly reaching in the dark to retrieve a clean pair of shorts to tug them up his legs to cover his modesty, fumbling to get to his bedroom door.
Jaemin steps out into the vacant hallway, squinting at the light that blinds his eyes as he walks towards the bathroom, dripping the doorknob and twisting with a call of your name, fully expecting you to be sitting on the toilet or even in the bathtub as he peers his head inside but grunts as he’s met with complete darkness, and a empty room.
His brows draw together in confusion as he pulls the door shut, turning to look over his shoulder to eye the closed bedroom doors of the other boys, not fully sure if they all came back home last night after they all ventured to the girls apartment.
Jaemin hovers outside of Yangyang’s bedroom, debating whether to open it up and take a quick peek inside to see if, for some reason, you were in there. But he’s met with darkness yet again, and an empty bed.
He feels a little uncomfortable and majorly confused, flashbacks of waking up alone after his last night with Eunbin before she disappeared repeats in his head and he feels the panic build up in his chest, trying his best to calm his erratic heartbeat as he ventures downstairs and into the kitchen to grab himself a glass of cold water but flinches in shock when he switches on the light and sees Donghyuck sat alone at the kitchen island with his hand shoved in a cereal box.
Jaemin stares at him in bewilderment, “What are you doing?”
“I’m eating” Donghyuck answers simply, giving him an odd look as he shoves another handful of cereal into his mouth before bringing his attention back to his phone that lays across the marble countertop, scrolling through instagram.
“Where is everyone?”
“Shotaro’s in his room sleeping, Renjun is with Haru and Yangyang and Jeno are walking Y/N back home”
Jaemin does a complete double take. “Walking her home?”
“She said she wasn’t feeling too good when we came in, caught her just by the door… was afraid she was going to throw up or something” Donghyuck explains to Jaemin who grows even more confused. “We were going to call her a cab but she said she wanted some fresh air so Jeno offered to walk her home. Yangyang tagged along because he got worried”
The panic inside of Jaemin builds at the thought of you not feeling okay, trying his hardest to remember how much alcohol you drank a few hours prior just in case you got too drunk, but he knows you didn’t drink that much and you were completely sober when you got back to the house. He then tries to remember if something had happened when the two of you were together in his room and if he had done something wrong or something to hurt you when you had slept together, but nothing comes to mind, he’s stuck.
Jaemin leaves Donghyuck alone in the kitchen as he runs back upstairs, not bothering to continue on with the conversation as the latter shouts nonsense behind him about what could’ve possibly happened, too busy searching for his phone to call you.
It rings once, twice, three times before it goes to voicemail and Jaemin huffs, tapping the call icon again and sandwiches his phone between his cheek and shoulder to listen to it ring once again as he yanks open his closet in search for some pants and a shirt, desperate to find something to wear so he can head over to your apartment.
“She’s home safe, you know” A voice interrupts from behind and Jaemin whizzes around to see Jeno standing in the doorway with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, head tilted to the side as he stares with Jaemin with an amused glint in his eyes when he sees the heap of clothes in front of him. “You can calm down”
“Is she sick?” Jaemin asks, pulling the phone away from his ears when it goes to voicemail yet again and he frowns.
“She doesn’t really seem herself,” Jeno admits, pressing his lips together as he figures out how to word his next question. “Did something happen between you both?”
“What? No” Jaemin's eyebrows furrow at that. “We’re fine. We talked when we got home—about the party and whatever. She was going to tell me something but we got carried away… did she say something to you?”
“Not a word” Jeno shakes his head, shifting on his feet as he straightens his back. “I don’t know if you know but Eunbin—”
“Dude, I don’t give a fuck about Eunbin right now” Jaemin cuts Jeno off with a deep sigh, his arms falling to his sides in exhaustion and annoyance. “Ever since she came back, all you guys have been doing is throwing her name around and shoving conversations about her in my face… I don’t care about Eunbin”
“Funny” Jeno scoffs, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he rips his hands out of his pockets to curl his fist around Jaemin’s bedroom door handle. “For someone that claims they don’t give a fuck about Eunbin, you sure hang out with her a lot”
Jaemin grits his teeth, “You know it’s not like that”
Jeno’s brows raise at that, “Do I?” And with that, Jeno slams the door shut, leaving Jaemin alone in his room with his thoughts.
Walking out and ignoring Jaemin after spending the night with him is probably one of the stupidest decisions you have ever made, and you have made a few.
A big part of you wanted to stay—to blurt out your full feelings and admit that you have grown to like him in a way you promised not to, but the conversation with Eunbin and lying about how there were no feelings involved weighed heavily on your chest and you felt guilty.
You felt guilty for lying, guilty for sleeping with him after telling Eunbin that you’d stop, guilty for leaving the second he fell into a deep sleep, guilty for not being selfish and getting what you want.
But, as always, you’ve never been selfish. You’ve always been selfless, you like making other people happy even if it means hurting yourself. It’s a flaw that the girls have grilled you for more times than you can possibly count.
You never learn, you never listen.
When Yangyang and Jeno walked you home that night, you could feel their curious and doubtful gazes on the side of your head, desperate to ask what was actually wrong and why you decided to leave early, clearly not taking the ‘I’m sick’ comment as an excuse. You hate how well they know you, but you were grateful they didn’t push for a real answer, there was no way you could be honest to them about what happened at the party.
“What’s wrong?” Miwoo questions you the next morning at breakfast and you feel your shoulders slump. Miwoo, on the other hand, pushes for the answer while Haru observes, staring at you until you break yourself. This is not what you need. “You’ve been weird since you got home late last night”
“Hungover” You simply lie, twirling your spoon around the cereal bowl. “I drank too much”
Miwoo scoffs at that, “You hardly drank”
“I agree” Haru chimes in softly, watching you over the rim of her coffee as she takes a sip.
“Nothings wrong,” You tell them.
“Okay”
“Stop it” You warn, pointing your spoon in Haru’s direction menacingly as if it will help, not appreciating the way the corners of her lips lift up in amusement. “I don’t like it when you assess me with your eyes, makes me feel nervous”
Miwoo grins, leaning on her elbow smugly. “Why would you be nervous if there’s nothing wrong?”
You huff in frustration, sliding down in your seat with a frown as you shove a spoonful of cereal in your mouth to not utter a single word to them, casting your eyes down to your bowl as they stare into you, waiting for you to crack.
You hold your ground, refusing to make eye contact with any of them as you continue eating your breakfast but the quietness that surrounds you three with the occasional crunch of cereal and sip of coffee makes you feel like you’re losing your mind.
“Fine” You immediately crack, your spoon clanging against the bowl as you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn your head towards Miwoo. “I’ll speak if you tell us why you’re spending so much time with Sunwoo”
Miwoo gasps, palm of her hand slapping against her chest in shock. “Don’t turn this on me”
Haru slowly cranes her head to Miwoo almost comically. “Interesting”
“I saw you talk to him last night so I’m sure he spilled on what I asked from him” Miwoo tuts with a shake of her head. “I just wanted to have some fun and Sunwoo carries a lot of the fun. He didn’t give me anything, but I did sit down with him for like an hour and talked… It was strange, a good strange”
You stare at her quizzically as you ask, “Do you like him?”
Miwoo snorts. “No. Since breaking up with Jeno, I’m done with relationships for now. I don’t need them”
“But?”
“But I like to think as myself as ‘sex positive’ so if the opportunity comes around where I can get dicked down then—”
“Okay, your turn” Haru cuts her off as she directs the conversation towards you, staring at you expectedly and you mentally groan, biting down on your inner cheek for even agreeing to spill the truth if Miwoo did first.
Honestly, you didn’t think Miwoo would actually talk about Sunwoo. You expected her to change the topic, to talk about something else like she usually does but of course, with just your luck, she was honest.
You sigh deeply, clearly a little frustrated and annoyed but you know your friends mean well. They’re curious—worried—about your sudden mood drop and how weird you’ve been acting since last night. They’re looking out for you, they care.
“I think I’m going to stop sleeping around with Jaemin” Your confession makes the girls freeze in confusion and shock, staring at you across the table and silently pleading for you to continue and explain. “I just thought that maybe it’s been going on for too long, you know”
Haru gives you a disappointed look, “You didn’t talk to him, did you?”
“I couldn’t” You shake your head, knowing what she’s hinting at. Your feelings towards Jaemin. “I couldn’t do it”
“Talk to him about what? How much you like him?” Miwoo asks nonchalantly as she takes a sip of her juice and your head snaps towards Haru for outing you out but she shakes her head, putting her hands up in defence and Miwoo snickers softly, “I figured it out. I’ve known for a while. I was just waiting for you to admit it out loud”
You frown deeply, “Is it that obvious?”
“Not really” Miwoo hums before sending you a smile, “I just know you. You're one of my best friends”
You blink at her sudden kindness, “Well that’s sweet”
Miwoo shrugs her shoulders with a smug grin as she leans back comfortably in her seat, “I try sometimes”
“I still think you should talk to him” Haru brings up the topic once again and your stomach flips with anxiety, a weight laying heavy on your chest. “You won’t know if he feels the same unless you talk to him about it”
“What if talking about it makes it worse?” You ask, voicing your fears with a shaken tone. “What if I’m standing there—blurting out my entire feelings and telling him that I broke the most important rule we made and then he rejects me or something?
“Rejection happens” Haru tells you quietly, giving you a small but tight lipped smile that does nothing to calm your nerves. “Rejection is a part of life. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, sometimes it’s not, but it happens. I think rejection helps us grow too. Sure, it fucking sucks but it’s a pain that will be forgotten in the long run. It’ll be okay”
“Also, there would be something seriously wrong with him if he rejected you” Miwoo chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you from across the table. “I’d date you if you confess your undying love to me”
You can’t help but smile in amusement at that, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. “Thanks, Miwoo”
Maybe you should’ve been completely honest to the girls on why you wanted to stop sleeping with Jaemin, and although you did admit a few of your worries like rejection and heartache, the thought of what Eunbin had asked of you left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You did weigh the pros and cons when you were alone in your room getting ready for the day. The pros being that they would have comforted you to the extreme, perhaps maybe even talked some sense into you and told you that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.
The cons felt heavier, intense. They would have gotten mad, at you and definitely at Eunbin. Haru has always been silent but deadly with her anger while Miwoo has, without a doubt, been more physical and verbal. She would get her hands dirty if someone had hurt you, Haru or anybody she cared about, even herself.
You didn’t want to cause a fight, that would be a little too dramatic.
You lean back in your chair at the library with a sigh, stretching out the aching muscles in your back and arms before placing down your pen and flexing out your fingers, the numbing sensation spreading to the tips, having been holding your pen in the same position for so long left a dull throbbing in your hand.
The heaps of notes, books and Donghyuck’s laptop that you borrowed from him once again splayed out in front of you proves how long you’ve been studying inside the library, and you mentally curse at yourself for spending your free period cramming all your work into one instead of grabbing a coffee with the others.
But you had your reasons.
A stack of books slam down on the desk in front of you and you jump in fright at the sudden noise, eyes widening in shock as your head snaps up to the culprit, ignoring the sounds of other students around you shushing you or warning you to be quiet as you see Jeno.
Usually, you would’ve scoffed and calmed down once settling your attention on Jeno, but with his jaw clenched and dark eyes staring at you through the messy strands that fall in front of his face, it’s hard for you to calm down. In fact, it makes you feel more scared.
“Why are you ignoring Jaemin?”
“I’m not!!” You splutter, shaking your head. You are. “Keep your noise down, we’re in a library”
“I don’t care about the library” Jeno scoffs, pulling out the chair vacant opposite you and making himself comfortable, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at you expectedly. “Why are you ignoring Jaemin?”
“I told you, I’m not” You lie, gesturing towards the mess in front of you. “I’ve been busy with my assessments. The college life is stressful, you know”
“So it has nothing to do with the conversation you had with Eunbin?” That throws you for a loop and your lips press together tightly, unable to control the emotions that are easily now written upon your face and Jeno sighs, dropping his head low with a shake before looking back up at you. “What happened?”
“Nothing—”
“Come on, you know you can’t lie to me,” Jeno says with a teasing smile. “Talk to me. I promise I won’t tell a soul” You give him a disbelieving look, “Okay, depends on what is it because sometimes I can’t keep my mouth shut when talking to Donghyuck—”
“Jeno” You cut him off with a frustrated sigh, rubbing your hand across your forehead at the headache that forms. Jeno frowns deeply at you, his efforts of making you laugh and crack a smile fails him, letting him know that whatever happened between you and Eunbin must’ve been serious.
He calls your name softly and your hand drops to your lap as you gaze up at him, hating how worryingly he’s looking at you right now but you bite back any comment you want to make, swallowing thickly before you begin to talk again.
“I don’t want to continue being official and sleeping with Jaemin anymore” You admit, the heavy weight laying on your chest once again as Jeno’s eyebrows raise in shock. “I have been avoiding him… but that’s because I’m nervous to have the conversation with him. I’m making it worse”
Jeno’s quiet as he mumbles, “How come?”
“Feels like it’s gotten a little out of hand” You laugh softly, embarrassment filling your tone as you stare awkwardly at your fidgeting hands. “Rules were broken—important rules. I ended up breaking the main one”
Jeno takes a moment to register what you had just admitted, remembering the five rules Jaemin had told him during the early stages of your friends with benefits situation, and everything slowly begins to sink in, a genuine smile threatening to spill onto his lips as he stares at you, “You like him”
You nod quickly, feeling awkward and embarrassed for admitting something to someone like Jeno: Jaemin’s ultimate best friend. You feel a little stupid too, but you push down all regrets and worries as you mutter, “But I can’t like him”
Jeno’s eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not?”
You finally meet his eyes across the table, giving him a tight lipped smile as the words pour from your lips. “Because Eunbin likes him too”
Jeno promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about your conversation with Eunbin after he made you explain everything in detail, wrapping his pinky tightly around yours to seal off the promise.
The look of anger and annoyance written across his features worried you a little and at some point you were afraid he was about to burst and curse up a storm, but he kept his cool (much to your surprise) despite his facial expressions giving away exactly what he was thinking.
He accompanies you for his entire free period despite you telling him that you’re fine without the company but he ignores you as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, kicking his feet up on the empty chair beside him as he mindlessly scrolls. You scoff as you catch him glancing over at you from time to time.
Jeno also decides to come with you when Donghyuck demands his laptop back when he and the others return from getting coffee, sending you an interesting text with a bunch of emojis and light-hearted threats if you don’t return his ‘prized possession’ back in one piece.
You walk side by side with Jeno now, heading towards the outside grounds where you know the others will be waiting for your arrival and you grow a little nervous when you think about Jaemin. Would he be there? Did he have a free period to go and get coffee too? Or would he stay behind and catch up on his own work?
The questions leave you dizzy and annoyed, huffing at your thoughts which easily catches Jeno’s attention and he gives you a kind smile, reaching his hand up to your shoulder to dig his fingers into the pressure points, causing you to wince upon his first touch but slowly relax in complete bliss as you feel the tension slip away.
You give him a dumb grin to which he snorts at.
“Hey” A familiar voice calls out and you crane your neck to the side, the grin slowly slipping from your lips as you see Jaemin emerge from a class with Junghoon, who you’ve grown to learn is his nosey seatmate, by his side. It seems like your questions are answered. He did stay.
Jaemin eyes the way Jeno’s fingers are dug into your shoulders, brow twitching upwards in question when he watches his hands slowly trail down your arm and drop to his sides casually, giving Jaemin a smile that, for once, Jaemin didn’t bother giving back.
Your mouth feels dry upon seeing Jaemin, unable to come up with a simple greeting when he makes his way towards you, but he stops abruptly when Junghoon tumbles into him and apologises profusely when he steps on the back of Jaemin’s shoe, yet Jaemin pays no mind to the small accident and instead swats Junghoon away when it dawns on him that he’s trying to follow behind.
Junghoon’s mouth drops open in offence, spinning around on his heel with a scoff and disappearing into the crowd, but not before giving you a wave to which you felt obliged to return and your hand falls to your side when Jaemin brings his attention back to you.
“Hey” He greets you casually, but his brows pull together in concern as his eyes take you in, roaming your face with curiosity. “Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call you but… it kept going straight to voicemail”
“Yeah, sorry” You apologise, the guilt immediately eating you up and you struggle to look him in the eyes even when he tries so hard to meet yours. “I wasn’t feeling too great and then I had assessments from Professor Moon, I just—” You gulp. “I’ve been busy”
“Are you feeling better now?” Jaemin asks you and you nod quickly, but abruptly stop when he asks the next question, “Are you still busy now?”
“I, well…” You pause, staring down at Donghyuck’s laptop in your hands before looking back up at him. “I have to give this to Donghyuck—”
“Jeno can give it back” Jaemin tells you, not even sparing a glance at Jeno who’s been silently watching the interaction this entire time, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets with his jaw locked. You’re unsure of what to say back, but the urge to make up a lame excuse on why you should be the one to give Donghyuck his laptop back lays on the tip of your tongue. “I want to talk to you, alone”
You’re about to decline, to follow along with your excuse until you hear the faint ‘please’ that leaves his lips when you take a second too long to answer him. It leaves you crumbling, the walls that you’ve built up fall down just from that word and the tone that was used.
You hate how weak he makes you feel and you mentally scold yourself when you hand the laptop over to Jeno who’s already staring at you, trying to communicate with you through subtle glances but you simply nod at him to tell him that everything was okay, and maybe this could be your chance to end things with Jaemin once and for all.
Jeno bids you both a silent goodbye, giving one last look at Jaemin and Jaemin holds eye contact with him for a few moments before dropping his head low as he remembers the small dispute the pair had regarding himself and Eunbin—but Jaemin didn’t care about that right now, not when he finally has you here in person.
He offers his hand out for you to take and you feel a little dumb staring at it, debating in your head whether to hold it or not. You really want to hold his hand, to feel his warmth against your skin and get that comfort you’ve been yearning for, yet the guilt is quick to rise and the conversation with Eunbin comes to mind. You can’t take his hand.
But yet, you do.
Your fingers slide through his before you can even register you’re doing it and the squeeze he gives your hand is enough to pull you out of your thoughts that swarm your head. You allow him to take you wherever he wants to go to talk to you alone and the anxiety that surges through your veins at the lingering eyes of others causes you to drop your head low to avoid their stares, especially Mia’s who watches with her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her jaw clenched.
“What’s going on?” Jaemin asks the question you have been dreading and the silence that fills the empty classroom he had pulled you inside for your one-on-one talk makes you feel uncomfortable, and a little nervous.
You have no idea how to even talk to him, let alone start the conversation of ending whatever it is you both have. A friends with benefits situation, an official one. That’s all it has ever been. Your stomach twists and turns at that, refusing to make eye contact with him as you look elsewhere, focussing on a board with scribbles from its previous class.
Jaemin calls out your name softly and you almost jump when you feel the palm of his hands cup your cheeks to turn your attention on him, and your heart drops plummets in your stomach. The desperate look in his eyes, the curiosity—the worry—it makes you feel sick.
“I know you said you’ve been busy… but it kinda feels like you’ve been avoiding me” Jaemin laughs lightly despite the crushed tone, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones as his lips press together with a sigh. “Please talk to me”
“Jaemin, I—” You wanted to scream when you heard his phone shrill loudly in his pocket, ruining your chance to explain what was going on. Maybe it was a good thing you were getting interrupted, you weren’t exactly ready to end whatever you both had and truthfully, you didn’t want to.
Although you grow confused when Jaemin allows his phone to continuously ring, not bothering to check the caller ID and answer it as his attention is focused on nothing but you. You would’ve been entirely grateful if this was under a different circumstance, recalling the amount of times he’s answered the phone when you were together but you couldn’t ignore it, not with that annoying ringtone.
Slipping your hand into his jean pockets, you fish out his phone and you barely bite back a scoff when you see Eunbin’s caller ID. You’re shocked at your complete 180 in attitude, being so used to feeling guilty and ashamed when being in Jaemin’s presence with Eunbin’s name running in your mind, but now you feel annoyed—resentful even.
“You should answer it”
“I don’t want to,” Jaemin immediately says.
“It hasn’t stopped you before” You bite back before you can stop yourself, your bitter tone catching Jaemin off guard and you sigh, closing your eyes in defeat. “I’m sorry—”
“Did she say something to you?” It was your turn to be caught off guard, your eyes snapping open to stare at Jaemin who’s hands drop to his side, head tilting to the side quizzically.
Jaemin remembered his brief encounter with Jeno during the night you left, how Jeno had brought up Eunbin’s name but Jaemin was quick to shut it down, not wanting to know anything or even hear anything about his ex-girlfriend.
But he can’t help but piece two and two together: you have been acting weird since Eunbin’s welcome home party and he’s almost certain he saw you and Eunbin together before he was pushed inside of her home by others who attended the party.
Instead of answering him like he wishes you would’ve, you look down at his phone in your hands and slide your finger across the answer button, shoving his phone in his grasp with force and collecting your belongings to leave him alone once again.
A gasp flies from your lips as you feel Jaemin’s fingers wrap around your wrist and tug you back to him, and you almost trip over your own feet if it wasn’t for his tight grip to keep you steady, staring at him in complete shock as he stares back with a unreadable expression on his face.
You hear Eunbin’s voice call out his name from the speaker: asking if he’s there, asking if he can hear her and what he’s doing, but he remains silent with his attention, yet again, focused on you and it makes your heart pound loudly in your ears.
Your thoughts ramble together, unable to even come up with a clear thought to get you out of this situation. Instead, you do what you know best.
You kiss him.
You don’t know why you kissed him, you don’t really know what brought on the urge to do so but you did. With your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curled around the hair at the nape of his neck, chest pressed against his, you kissed him hungrily—desperately.
It’s when you feel Jaemin respond to the kiss, letting his phone drop to the ground as his hands come up to rest on your waist that you realise what you’re doing and you recoil back in shock, eyes wide as you stare between him and his phone on the ground, baffled at what you just done.
Jaemin tries to reach back out to you, to bring you back to him and to kiss you again but you refuse, muttering a small apology as you finally gather your things and leave him once again.
It’s been two weeks since Jaemin last interacted with you in the classroom.
There’s been brief moments where he encountered you with the group, but it’s obvious now when you avoid his gaze or make up some excuse to go somewhere else or that you’re busy, and Jaemin is tired.
What makes it worse is that it seems everyone else around him is knowing what's going on while he’s left alone in the dark to figure it out himself. It makes him upset, even though he’d never admit it out loud to anyone.
It makes him upset to see you avoid him so quickly, to refuse to meet up with him alone or to talk to him. He’s tried calling you, he’s tried texting you—hell, he’s even tried to talk to Haru and Miwoo who give him nothing in return but a sharp look or disappointing gaze.
He’s sick of it.
Jaemin’s not sick of you, he doesn’t think he could be ever sick of you. He’s sick of the hushed whispers he hears from the group, how they refuse to tell him what’s going on. He’s sick of the looks he gets from them whenever Eunbin makes a sudden appearance to talk to him, whether it’ll be through a phone call or in person.
He knows Eunbin’s trying to get on good terms with him, to rebuild a friendship with him while she’s back. Some part of him admires Eunbin for her efforts as Jaemin doesn’t bother giving anything back apart from some half-hearted replies or sounds of acknowledgement when she says something to him, but the other part of him is annoyed at how she can pretend that nothing ever happened and that because he forgave her for his closure, Eunbin thinks it’s fine to worm her way back into his life with his friends (who clearly hate her).
Jaemin feels conflicted. He hates awkwardness and he hates the tension, and he’s not the best when it comes to uncomfortable situations. He can, however, have his moments when it comes to other people. He doesn’t mind being confrontational if it helps the other person, but when it comes to himself he would avoid it at all costs.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he wants his friends to be happy and he most importantly wants you to be happy. Eunbin? He ponders her name for a moment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares at his blank computer screen. Eunbin is not his priority. He doesn’t really care about Eunbin’s happiness.
So why was he trying so hard to keep the peace on both ends? Jaemin grows frustrated again, trying his best to clear his thoughts as he busies himself with his computer, editing a picture he had taken of Shotaro recently but he gets distracted when he hears his phone vibrate relentlessly on his desk and he picks it up, brows pulling together as he sees the main groupchat is active.
[ 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗨'𝗦 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗔𝗥 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦 — 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗣𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗧 ]
donghyuck: sunwoos having a party tonight
donghyuck: he invited all of us and said he’s got the goods covered
donghyuck: i think i love him a lil
yangyang: i’m down
[donghyuck hearted this message]
renjun: who the fuck changed the groupchat name.
miwoo: me❤️
renjun: change it back.
yangyang: 🗣️rare sight of renjun getting overprotective over his gf 🗣️
donghyuck: i screenshot already👍
[yangyang liked this message]
[renjun disliked this message]
miwoo: haru is the only one with a big bank account tho bc she works
miwoo: its fitting dont u think????
donghyuck: idkkk
donghyuck: just wait until me n jeno start our onlyfans account
jeno: 🤨
yangyang: wait hyuck why not ask m e????
donghyuck: no offence but jeno would bring in the views
yangyang: you right you right
jeno: anyway
jeno: im down for the party
jeno: haven’t had one in a while
renjun: you had one last weekend.
yangyang: we literally hosted a party last weekend????
donghyuck: did you get so fucked up you forgot we had one last weekend???
jeno: shut up
jeno: are we all going or not
[yangyang, donghyuck and miwoo liked this message]
jeno: what abt renjun, haru, shotaro, yn & jaemin???
miwoo: renjun goes if haru goes
miwoo: and shotaro goes if renjun and haru goes
[donghyuck questioned this message]
donghyuck: uh no
donghyuck: shotaro goes if ME and YANG go
miwoo: idk abt that :/
shotaro: i go if you all go :)
donghyuck: i love you
haru: me and renjun can’t go tonight, we’re packing for our weekend trip
miwoo: THE FCK??? 🤨🤨🤨
miwoo: WHAT WEEKEND TRIP????
miwoo: and without me???
you: haru and renjun have planned this trip for like weeks, that’s why haru asked for more shifts at work
[haru hearted this message]
[renjun liked this message]
renjun: at least someone listens.
donghyuck: wait what teh fuck
miwoo: thats what im SAYING
donghyuck: what happened to group trips </3 do we not do those anymore </3
miwoo: ^ ^ ^
donghyuck: this friday is the worst friday to have ever friday
[miwoo emphasised this message]
shotaro: is this our first time seeing miwoo and hyuck agree on something??
[donghyuck and miwoo disliked this message]
shotaro: sorry.
yangyang: where are u guys going??
renjun: none of your business.
haru: rented out a beach house!
donghyuck: BEACH TRIPS ARE OUR THING!!!!!???
miwoo: how are me and yn going to survive without haru
miwoo: i feel so lonely already </3
haru: i’ll be gone for three days…
miwoo: and???
miwoo: do u know how long that is????
yangyang: 3 days lol
[miwoo disliked this message]
donghyuck: 3 days???
[miwoo disliked this message]
renjun: 3 days.
[miwoo disliked this message]
miwoo: ok stfu
jeno: we’re getting side tracked.
jeno: yn? jaemin? party???
you: idk
you: i’ll think abt it
yangyang: thats a yes
yangyang: because i’ll be dragging ur ass out
donghyuck: me too ;)
jeno: jae??
jaemin: no.
And with that, Jaemin shuts off his phone and drops it beside him on his desk, leaning back in his chair with his head in his hands, rubbing at his face in frustration as his chest tightens with an uncomfortable feeling. He hates this.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you even here right now?” Haru questions you with a quick glance over her shoulder as she restocks the vinyls, rearranging them in alphabetical order for Johnny’s liking.
She spins to face Renjun for a brief moment with a grin, holding up a vinyl with the words ‘COLOURFUL TRAUMA’ scrawled across the front in block letters and Renjun nods, opening up his little ‘misfits’ tote bag and allowing her to shove the vinyl inside for later purchase.
“Can’t I just come visit you at work?” You question back, finding offence as you frown at her. Your arms cross over your chest as you lean against a pillar, raising a brow in her direction. “Is it wrong for me to want to hang out with you?”
Renjun scoffs, “You’re so dramatic” You retaliate by throwing up your middle finger and Renjun does the same with a smile, causing Haru to give you both a pointed look, clearly unimpressed with your attitudes towards each other.
“I think you’re stalling” Haru tells you, turning back to the vinyls. “He’s not going tonight, you know. Ditch the party and actually talk to him… avoiding him isn’t going to make either of you feel better”
“I can’t bring myself to do it” You admit, staring down at your shoes in disappointment. “I don’t want to end whatever we have for my benefit… but not only do I not know how he feels about me, I have Eunbin waiting to make her move and get her second chance”
“Eunbin doesn’t deserve a second chance” Renjun says, causing you to look at him. “And honestly? I don’t think Jaemin is dumb enough to give her a second chance. At this point she’s just making a complete fool out of herself”
Your lips curl into a frown, “Doesn’t that mean technically that I’m making a complete fool out of myself too?”
Haru turns her head towards you abruptly, “What makes you say that?”
“Think about it,” You start, uncrossing your arms to count off your fingers. “I’ve fallen for him without knowing how he feels about me. I broke the most important rule we had made which, shocker, is the don't fall for each other rule. I’m practically stalling everything just so I don’t have that conversation with him and potentially lose him… I’m a fool”
“You’re just scared—”
You blink at Haru, “That makes me feel so much worse”
“It’s okay to be scared, you know” Renjun speaks this time and you’re surprised by his soft and caring tone, eyes wide as you look over at him. Renjun rolls his eyes at your expression, “I can be nice sometimes”
“Yeah, and it’s creepy” You tell him, causing Renjun to scoff and Haru to laugh at her boyfriend, patting him on the shoulder before resuming in her work. “I know it’s okay to be scared, by the way… I just hate feeling it and I want to get rid of it. I wish I could pull an Eunbin and leave on a trip”
Haru sucks through her teeth, gently whacking you on top of the head with a vinyl. “Don’t use that writing trip as an escape”
Renjun snorts at your choice of words, “Pull an Eunbin”
“It was a joke” You tell her, rubbing the top of your head despite it not actually hurting you. “I have been thinking about it though. Professor Moon asks me about it from time to time, and I still have Mr Nakamoto’s details on a note somewhere in the bottom of my bag”
“Go on the trip if it’s something you really want, but don’t go on the trip if you’re using it as an escape route to avoid Jaemin” Haru gives you a hard look and you’re a little startled, not expecting her to give you that type of expression. “You’ll be worse than Eunbin if you do that”
Renjun spares you a quick glance, “Don’t be Eunbin”
You frown at that, the thought of becoming something like her leaving an uncomfortable feeling on your chest. You regret the joke you made moments prior about pulling an Eunbin and leaving—you’d never do something like that, that would be the last thing you’d do. Jaemin would, truthfully, be one of the first people you’d tell if you decided to go on the trip, remembering how excited he was for you when you first mentioned it to him.
You wouldn’t do that to him—you wouldn’t leave without telling him, no matter what type of situation you’re both in.
“Do you want a job or something?” The sudden but familiar voice causes you to slowly turn around on your heel, eyes zoning in on Johnny who’s standing behind you with a pudding cup in hand and a spoon in the other, staring at you with a deadpan expression as he raises his spoon to his mouth.
“What?”
“You’re here all the time.” Johnny points out, the corner of his lips subtly twitching which gives you the impression he’s teasing you. “Do you want a job or something? Help organise the shelves? Be my assistant?”
“Fuck off, Johnny”
“Are you really going on a trip?” Miwoo frowns, sitting on the edge of Haru’s bed as she watches her pack her final belongings for the weekend getaway.
When Haru had finished her shift this evening, she rushed home with you to pack while you had to shower and get ready for Sunwoo’s party. (Miwoo’s orders. You didn’t feel like crossing Miwoo today.)
You’re prettied up alongside Miwoo, wearing your favourite outfit along with some silver jewellery and heavy makeup that you think definitely pulls the look in all together—you praise Miwoo for her talents. And despite not wanting to go in the first place, you have to admit that you feel much better after seeing your reflection.
“Yes, I’m really going on this trip,” Haru tells her as she’s shoving some hygiene products into her bag. “Why do you keep asking me?”
“The longest I’ve been without you is five hours,” Miwoo explains. “You’re going for three days—how am I going to cope?”
Haru snorts, “Mi—”
“No, seriously. What should I do?” Miwoo deadpans. “You’re, like, my anchor. What am I going to do?”
“It’s three days” Haru repeats to her as she places a comforting hand on Miwoo’s shoulder and gives her a warm smile. “You’ll be fine… plus, you can just call me if you want”
“Everyday?”
Haru gives her a look, “Don’t push it”
“Worth a shot” Miwoo grins before she shoots up from Haru’s bed, quickly excusing herself to retrieve something for her as she dashes out of the room. You snort at her behaviour, turning your head to look at Haru who seems a little uneasy and bothered, it makes you frown.
“Can you do me a favour?” Haru asks you before you can even get the chance to question what was wrong, but you nod anyway. “Keep an eye on Miwoo”
“I mean, I will, but,” You pause, brows pulling together. “Why?”
“She spoke to me last night about some stuff—well, she hinted towards some things about herself and about Jeno. How weird and lost she feels, how different things seem to be without having Jeno there in her life as a boyfriend” Haru explains to you quietly, keeping her voice low and glancing towards her bedroom door to make sure Miwoo wasn’t returning back yet. “Don’t get me wrong, Miwoo can be independent… but I think she also depended on Jeno a lot in some weird sense. I know that people called us the trio, but—”
“It was always Jeno and Miwoo” You finish and Haru nods with a gentle hum, confirming you were right. “I’ll keep an eye on her… I’ll try and talk to her too”
Haru laughs softly, “Good luck with that, Miwoo doesn’t open up easily”
“Found it~” Miwoo sings happily from the hallway as she comes bounding back into Haru’s room, holding something in her hand.
You watch as she excitingly hands the box over to Haru who looks at it sceptical before unwrapping the pink ribbon from around the box, sliding the top off before slamming it back on with a shocked expression, eyes wide as she stares over at Miwoo who grins.
You’re curious to know what’s inside the box, fingers itching to reach out and see why Haru had caused such a reaction but before you could even get a chance to question it, Haru’s already reacting once again.
“You’re crazy. You’re insane… how did you even find this?”
“I’ve very persuasive” Miwoo’s grin widens as she settles down on the bed beside you. “Surprisingly had a little help from Sunwoo too—He knew a few people and luckily I’m good at getting what I want”
“Miwoo…” Haru whines with a pout, dropping the box on the bed and launching herself at Miwoo who happily welcomes her with open arms, squeezing her tightly to her chest with a joyful giggle as Haru embraces her while muttering gibberish under her breath.
Feeling left out, you immediately reach for the box and take a peek inside, instantly making a noise of recognition as you see the sage green mesh dress that’s been sitting in Haru’s wishlist for a few months, knowing how badly Haru was wanting the pretty dress and even saving up for it alongside her savings for her weekend vacation away with Renjun.
You immediately awe out loud, looking over at Miwoo who is beaming with happiness, wrapping her limbs awkwardly around Haru who tries to free herself this time, pinching Miwoo’s thighs in an attempt to force her to let her go and Miwoo’s reluctantly frees her when she squeezes a little too hard.
“I want to hit you for buying this but I also want to kiss you” Miwoo immediately puckers her lips as that confession but Haru places the palm over her hand over her face. “How did you have the money to buy this? Do you realise how expensive it is?”
“I told you. Sunwoo knows people and I’m good at getting what I want” Miwoo explains as she pushes Haru’s hand away. “But if you want the full details… We all know Sunwoo’s parents are rich so they’re involved with a lot of people. When I met up with him for a smoke, he told me that one of the girls he plugs for owns a family boutique. She owed him for the last ‘service’ so I asked if I could get the dress”
“I’m pretty sure this dress costs more than Sunwoo’s goods”
“I don’t know about that…” You pitch in this time, looking between Haru and Miwoo. “Sunwoo does sell some high quality shit. That’s why he’s so popular”
Miwoo clicks her fingers at you, “Exactly”
“When I come back from vacation, I hope you realise I’m paying you everything back”
“Shut up” Miwoo scoffs, shaking her head while gently glaring at Haru before her lips curl into a smile. “You can pay me back by never leaving me again” Haru gives her a blank look to which Miwoo shrugs her shoulders innocently, the smile dropping from her face. “No, I'm serious. I get separation anxiety”
Standing in Sunwoo’s kitchen with him on your one side with Miwoo on the other wasn’t exactly in your plans for this party, nor was striking up a conversation with him as he sits upon the countertop while rolling a joint expertly between his fingers, selling them to people who strolled by and shoved money in his hands.
You almost snorted when you first witnessed him alone, emoji stickers plastered across his face and glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose and you dared to ask why he was covered in such things, only prompting an actual laugh out of you when he said some girls stuck them on his face as a thank you gift for hosting a party.
But you immediately stop laughing and stare at him unimpressed as he pulls a lips emoji sticker off his cheek to put it on your own, patting the area softly with a sluggish grin before peeling a devil emoji off his glasses and pressing it in the middle of Miwoo’s forehead, causing her to drunkenly grin as she pulls out her phone to take a picture of you three.
“You know,” Sunwoo begins as he rolls another joint, taking a quick glance at you. “As much as I love you hanging out with me right now, Eric is upstairs. He’s going to come find me soon and if you still want to ignore him, now’s your best chance to go find your friends”
“Thanks for the heads up” You tell him appreciatively, shocked that he’s even letting you know about Eric’s whereabouts. You look over at Miwoo, “I’m gonna go find Shotaro—”
“I think you should talk to him though”
Your head snaps towards him, and so does Miwoo’s.
“I’m not saying you should forgive him” Sunwoo adds as he studies your face. “I’m saying you’re going to end up spending the majority of your life trying to avoid him, making things harder and awkward for yourself. Just talk to him—tell him how he made you feel, hear whatever he has to say back, decide whether he deserves forgiveness or not and get your closure”
Closure. That word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Seeing firsthand how Jaemin’s closure has worked out between him and Eunbin, how Eunbin has easily wormed her way back into his life as if nothing happened… you don’t want to go down that path, you refuse, especially with Eric.
You can’t.
“I’ll pass” You grab your drink and leave the kitchen, pushing your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies who grind upon each other, allowing the music to take over their rhythm.
You decline when a girl from your class taps your arm to come join her and her little group, pointing to your cup to subtly tell her you want to finish your drink first and she nods, allowing you to slip by and continue on walking.
Shotaro is the first person you see and a genuine smile spreads across your lips when you see him talking with Yeji in the far corner of the room, how his cheeks bloom a slight shade of red as her hand caresses the bruise on his face, courtesy of Hyunjin’s punch.
(You even fight the urge to awe out loud when she leans over to kiss it.)
Not wanting to interrupt their moment, you venture out to find Donghyuck or Yangyang instead, maybe even Jeno if you’re lucky. But, much to your dismay, you can’t find them anywhere and you feel a little silly being left alone.
You’re starting to miss Haru and Renjun, maybe even Jaemin too.
You exhale deeply and tug your phone out of your pocket as you make your way out to the backyard, eyeing the couples that kiss in the pool and others who cannonball in, three drunk guys sitting on the sidelines scoring them.
Sitting yourself down on an empty garden chair, you sip your beer as you scroll through your phone, hearting Haru and Renjun’s posts on Instagram as they posted that they finally arrived at their destination, leaving a small comment for them to have fun and stay safe to which she, and Renjun too (shockingly), replied back with heart emojis.
You continue to scroll mindlessly, liking other posts from mutuals and you snort when seeing an old post of Yangyang but you feel your chest tighten and your amusement drop when you see a recent post of Jaemin’s, thumb hovering over the heart button.
‘Taken with my favourite polaroid’, the caption reads and you sigh softly, pressing your lips together. It’s the polaroid you bought him, the one he hasn’t stopped using since you gifted it to him.
You’d be lying if you said that the caption didn’t affect you, leaving your heart warm and fuzzy. And you’re not sure what pushed you to do it but you tap the comment section of his post, seeing a few comments from his classmates and one that leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
Eunbin.
She left a smiley face emoji under the photo, a comment that wasn’t liked apart from the others and you begin to wonder if you should comment to, just to test if he would like yours but you figured that would be too toxic and silly, deciding to just heart the photo and continue scrolling but you pause when a notification from Jaemin comes up on your phone the second you heart it, causing your brows to follow as you tap his message.
jaemin: are u at the party?
you: yeah
jaemin: are u drunk?
you: tipsy
you: i’ll be fine
jaemin: typing…
jaemin: typing…
jaemin: typing…
You gnaw at the nail of your thumb, watching the three bubbles on the screen as you wonder what he’s about to say next.
jaemin: stay safe
jaemin: i’ll come get u if u need me
Your bottom lip starts to quiver, heart rate increasing as your emotions get the best of you, wanting to spill some tears at a simple and kind message. You shut off your phone, shoving it into your pocket as you bring the beer bottle up to your lips to chug, tears brimming in your eyes and making your vision blurry.
You do need him. You hate to admit it, but you do need him. More than ever. You don’t want to lose him, you don’t want to stop seeing him because of Eunbin wanting a second chance. Maybe you deserve to be a little selfish once in a while
But it dawns on you that you don’t exactly know how Jaemin feels.
The frustration soon starts to build inside you, realising how secretive and quiet Jaemin is about his feelings, how he doesn’t allow anyone to have a dip inside his head to know what he’s thinking of feeling in that given moment.
You hardly know anything about him, and that’s because he doesn’t let you.
“There you are” A familiar voice coos from behind you and you peer your head over your shoulder to see Yangyang stumbling towards you, eyes red with a dumb grin and you laugh as he pulls a vacant garden chair beside you to sit down, knocking his shoulder against yours. “I’ve been looking for you”
“Sorry” You mutter, staring down at the almost empty beer bottle in your hands. “I needed fresh air”
“Me too, it was stuffy in there” Yangyang agrees as he mindlessly drums his fingers on his thighs, staring out at the others in the pool. “You missing Haru and Renjun?”
You exhale deeply, “Very”
“Same” He hums, pressing his lips together as he takes a quick glance at you. “Are you missing Jaemin?”
“Just feels different without everyone here” You say, not wanting to jump into full details about how you really are missing Jaemin even if you don’t want to admit it out loud. “I like it when we’re all together”
Yangyang nods slowly to agree with you and silence falls upon you both for a while, basking in each others presence as you watch the other partygoers, some still flinging themselves into the pool or dancing on the well kept grass to the music that plays loudly from the speakers.
“You look pretty, by the way” Yangyang’s sudden compliment doesn’t surprise you, always have been used to this type of behaviour from him and you roll your eyes as you turn to face him, finally looking straight at him since he first arrived to sit with you and you notice the change in his features, how the grin he had falters into a frown. “Have you been crying?”
You scoff, feeling a little embarrassed. “No”
“Wow…” He gasps dramatically, reaching out to touch your face, his thumb wiping the tears that bubble in the corner of your eyes. “You’re pretty when you cry too? How the fuck is that fair? Hm?” His over the top acting has you struggling to keep your expression stoic. “I look ugly as fuck when I cry… What the hell?”
“Shut up” You crack, a laugh slipping past your lips as you swat his hand away. “Stop it”
“But you are,” Yangyang smiles, dropping his hand from your face to your lap, fingers skimming over your own. He nudges your shoulder gently, “I have this ugly picture of drunk Miwoo crying into a bowl of spaghetti if you want to see it? Surely that would make you feel better, right?”
“You’ve got to stop taking pictures of people drunk”
Yangyang shrugs his shoulders, “Blackmail. You all have photos of me too” He meets your eyes again, turning serious this time. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing—”
“Don’t lie to me” Yangyang cuts you off immediately and this time, he grabs your hand to lace your fingers in a comforting hold. “I know you too well, so don’t lie to me” He squeezes your hand gently. “Tell me”
And you do. You tell him everything.
Everything about Jaemin, everything about Eunbin—even everything about yourself and your feelings, and Yangyang listens to you so intently, concern and sadness written across his features as he nods along with your words.
Yangyang’s chest tightens as he listens to your problems, especially regarding Jaemin as he hears you admit how much you had fallen for him despite it being the number one rule. His heart breaks seeing how sad you are, how the tears threaten to spill again and he wishes he could help make you feel better, to see that smile on your face that he loves so much.
Love. That word makes him feel a little sick, his stomach swirling uncomfortably at the new and unusual feeling. He’s never loved anyone romantically before, that’s all new and foreign to him. He never expected himself to ever fall in love with someone, especially with how comfortable he is with hook-up culture and how normal is it for him.
Love is scary. It leaves his palms sweaty and he grimaces whenever there’s something romantic happening between him and someone else, which is why he always sets boundaries, boundaries that are not meant to be crossed.
But yet, when it comes to you, maybe love to Yangyang doesn’t sound so bad.
“There’s something I want to tell you…” Yangyang interrupts you, voice soft and timid. Once you look at him, you notice that he’s staring at the ground, refusing to meet your gaze as his fingers timidly place with your own. “It’s important. It’s been on my mind for a while and I… I just need to get it off my chest”
“Okay” You say, nodding your head with a smile despite the anxiety that buzzes through your veins at his unusualness. “What is it?”
“I…” Yangyang suddenly pauses, staring straight at you as you stare back at him, waiting for him to speak. He wants to do it, to tell you everything that he’s been feeling, to finally get it out into the open and be free of all the thoughts inside of his head.
Yangyang has always been honest with his feelings—blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t beat around the bush when being completely real with someone, so why is he hesitating when he comes to you?
He stares at you a little longer, noticing how red your ears are, how your makeup is slightly smudged from crying, how swollen and bitten your lips are from trying to conceal yourself from any more tears and sadness.
His shoulders sag slightly, exhaling through his nose in defeat as he grips your hand in his own. “I’m proud of you, I always have been. You’re strong and I admire that about you, and I just—” He feels his eyes burn, tears threatening to appear but he holds back with a harsh swallow. “I promise that everything will work out in the end. You’ll be happy… you deserve to be happy. Don’t let anyone, including Eunbin, ruin that for you”
Whatever you were expecting Yangyang to tell you, it definitely wasn’t that. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his words with a warmth in your chest. You feel emotional and you bite back the urge to make another fool out of yourself by crying but you’re aware of the tears that are already forming in your eyes.
“That was pretty cheesy of you” You joke, unable to hide your smile as a tear drips down your cheek. Yangyang laughs lightly and squeezes your hand once again, using his other hand to wipe the tear away and he caresses your cheek softly, and that’s when you notice the pain in his eyes.
“I love you” He whispers to you so gently that you barely hear him. “You’re my best friend, and I love you”
“I love you too” You repeat back, swatting his hands away so you could lean forwards to embrace him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his arms slide around your waist, holding you tightly to his chest with his fingers clutching the back of your dress, not wanting to let you go just yet as the tears freely spill down his cheeks, completely unbeknownst to you.
Jaemin lets out a soft grunt as he raises his arms above his head, bones cracking from the hunched over position he had held for so long over his computer, eager to finish a few photos that were left untouched in his folder, using at as an excuse to get his mind off of everything that was going on.
He keeps glancing over at his phone, wondering if you would take him up on his offer to help you if you need it, but his mood defleats more and more when it buzzes and your name doesn’t show up on the screen.
It’s Eunbin’s name that does, asking him if he went to Sunwoo’s party and if he would like to hang out if he didn’t go, wondering if they wanted to go for beers somewhere else or even get a bite to eat.
He ignored every single one, he wasn’t in the mood to do anything but work on his photos and he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to be around drunk people, apart from you.
Jaemin sighs as he reaches for his phone, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he opens up your chat to see that you’ve left him on read, his fingers tapping anxiously against the sides of his phone.
He wonders if you’ll take him up on his offer if you need someone to come get you and he contemplates on sending another text just to let you know that he was serious about coming to get you if needed, or texting to see if you were still tipsy or getting sober.
But he decides against it when his phone pings again with another notification from Eunbin and he locks his phone, throwing it back on the desk as he runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he stares at the computer screen.
Jaemin returns back to his work without another thought, wanting to focus on his main priority of getting this photo done until he hears the front door slam downstairs and his fingers hover above his mouse, listening intently to the sound of someone cursing under their breath as they trip and stumble up the staircase, heading towards the bedrooms.
He believes it’s Jeno at first, knowing how he likes to go straight up to his room after indulging himself in a few beers and shots, and fall asleep to wake up early in the morning and workout the hangover away.
But he’s surprised when the door to his own bedroom is forced open to see Yangyang standing in the hallway, swaying side to side slightly with a beer bottle in hand. He leans against the door frame to take a sip of the concoction, eyeing Jaemin who stares back unamused.
“What have you done?” Yangyang suddenly asks him and Jaemin is slightly taken back by the question, but he doesn’t show it, opting to just glare at him and he takes note of how glossy his eyes are. It makes Jaemin’s brows furrow when he realises he must’ve been crying and Jaemin bites back the urge to ask him what’s wrong. “I said, what have you done?”
“What are you talking about?” Jaemin mutters with a roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to his computer as he shakes his head. “Get out of my room if you’re going to talk about something stupid. I don’t want to hear it—”
Jaemin’s cut off by Yangyang’s dry chuckle, making him sound a little crazy. “She’s upset, you know. The last time I saw her that upset was when the Eric bullshit happened… So, what have you done?”
Jaemin’s chest tightens at the thought of you being upset, but he can’t help but frown in annoyance as he looks back at Yangyang. “What makes you think I did something wrong? She’s the one that’s been actively ignoring me this entire time, I’ve tried to get her attention and she leaves. I call her, she ignores me. I message her and she either leaves me on read or gives me blunt replies. I’m trying, Yang”
“So you think you did nothing wrong?”
“No, I just—fuck—I don’t know what I—” Jaemin’s words die down in the back of his throat when he notices Yangyang staggering towards him, feeling slightly uncomfortable and intimidated with the way he’s being looked at by him.
Never in his years of knowing Yangyang would he think he would come across as intimidating, or scary for that matter, but with Yangyang standing in front of Jaemin with his face a little too close for his liking, Jaemin has never been so uncomfortable and nervous around Yangyang in his life.
Yangyang’s hazy eyes dance over Jaemin’s face, a halfhearted laugh slipping past his lips, the stench of alcohol and weed hitting Jaemin’s nose which makes him grimace. Yangyang’s eyes swirl with anger, sadness and regret, but it doesn’t stop him from slowly raising his hand to pet Jaemin’s blonde head of hair, not even sympathetically, Yangyang was hurting him a little with his rough touch.
“Talk to Eunbin” Yangyang tells him, dropping his hand from his head to grab his phone and shove it into Jaemin’s hands.
Jaemin’s eyes narrow in on Yangyang, “What?”
“Talk to your ex-girlfriend and ask her about the conversation she had with Y/N” Yangyang knows he shouldn’t have said what he said, having promised you that he wouldn’t tell Jaemin about what happened between Eunbin and you. But he couldn’t stand back and continue watching you get hurt anymore, not when he cares about you so much. “Maybe it’ll finally knock some fucking sense into your head”
Jaemin watches wordlessly as Yangyang leaves his room, slamming the door shut behind himself as he disappears into his own room and Jaemin’s attention drops to the phone in his hands, brows pulled together in confusion at Yangyang’s demands.
But surprisingly, it doesn’t stop him from unlocking his phone to bring up Eunbin and his chat, ignoring the multiple messages she had left behind as his thumbs tap the screen, tongue prodding at his inner cheek as he presses sent.
jaemin: i want to talk to u
“Hi” Eunbin greets him with a pretty smile the next morning, gesturing to the empty seat opposite her in the Dreamies Café and Jaemin slumps down in the seat, staring across the table at Eunbin blankly. “I’m sorry about last night. I completely drank too much and sent a whole bunch of embarrassing messages to you, and then I passed out. I’m really sorry”
He wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to wait an entire night to talk to Eunbin due to the previous conversation he had with Yangyang, how questions repeatedly circled in his head and how he was desperate for answers.
It seemed that your unusual actions were because of the conversation you had with Eunbin, as he tried to ask you before in the classroom, and last night it dawned on him after his brief encounter with Yangyang how serious it must’ve been.
Jaemin just wants to get to the bottom of this.
“I bought you an iced americano, by the way” Eunbin speaks up once again, sliding the plastic cup over the table towards him with another smile. “Extra shot, just how you like it”
“Thanks” He says as his fingers curl around the cup, not in the mood to drink as his other hand fiddles with the green straw, swirling the ice around the drink.
“So,” She leans her elbows on the table, eyes sparkling. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Your conversation with Y/N at your welcoming party” Jaemin immediately answers and Eunbin’s face drops. He eyes her for a few seconds, watching how she uncomfortably shifts in her seat as she sits up straight. “What was it about?”
“Jaemin, I—”
“Don’t lie” His sharp tone surprises Eunbin. “I can’t handle being lied to right now”
“We were just talking about me,” Eunbin says softly as she fiddles with the rings that decorate her fingers, twisting the ring that should belong to him on her middle finger. He glances down at it, the pretty black gemstone taunting him and he snaps his attention back to her. “We talked about me in New York, how stupid I was for doing what I did and leaving you behind”
Jaemin fights the urge to roll his eyes, “Anything else?”
“We talked about you—your friends with benefits situation” That seems to grab Jaemin’s interest and he perks up, leaning on the table to listen closely. “I asked her what was really going on between you both and she told me the truth”
“She did?” He questions, his voice quiet this time, almost like a whisper. “What did she say?”
“That you two are just fucking”
Jaemin doesn’t know why, but his heart crumbles and a pain settles in his chest at that, throat tightening and feeling heavy, making it hard for him to swallow. He’s unable to form words or even process a thought, struggling to solve what he’s actually feeling right now.
His lips press together tightly, leaning back in his chair as he looks out of the window, trying to steady his breathing as it seems to get faster and heavier, knowing that he’s about to panic.
“Jaemin?” Eunbin calls out his name softly to grab his attention and he gives a short hum, letting her know that he’s listening. “Do you like her?”
“It doesn’t matter” He’s quick to say, this time grabbing his drink and taking a sip so he doesn’t have to talk anymore.
Eunbin watches him carefully and the guilt eats her away, a frown making its way onto her face and she realises exactly what’s going on. A wave of sadness consumes her, but it doesn’t overpower the absolute regret she’s feeling and she lets out a shaky breath, “Jaemin, this is my fault”
His eyes immediately dart towards her as he pulls the straw from between his lips, “What do you mean?”
“When I asked her about your situation, she didn’t give me an answer straight away… She only gave me an answer after explaining why I came back home and when I asked her to do something for me,” Eunbin begins, nervously staring down at her hands to avoid Jaemin’s deep gaze. “I told her I wanted a second chance with you and I asked her if she could stop being friends with benefits to see if I can get that second chance…”
Jaemin sits in silence.
“I wanted to show you how much I’ve changed and how much you mean to me” Eunbin explains as she reaches over to grab Jaemin’s hand, gripping his fingers tightly. “Even after everything that happened between us, I still cared for you—still loved you. I wasn’t ready to give that up. I wanted to be selfish and you know first hand that I’m the type of person that will fight for what I want, and I want you… Can you blame me for that?”
Eunbin’s honesty baffles Jaemin to the core, his eyes widening at her every word and he listens to her excuses. She has tears in her eyes, filled with desperation and forgiveness but Jaemin doesn’t see himself giving her what she wants, not with the pent up rage and frustration that fills him.
It had been her after all this time. Eunbin was the one that had been pulling you away from him, making demanding requests as it seems. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, knowing that all your sadness had been not only because of him, but because of Eunbin too.
Jaemin knows deep down that he hasn’t been the most innocent or helpful in this situation. He was the one that allowed Eunbin back into his life, allowing her the possibility of friendship just to keep the peace with himself. But he hurt you in the process. He hurt the one person he cares about the most.
“Jaemin?” Eunbin calls out his name once more, feeling uneasy with how he hasn’t said a word since she confessed. “Please say something”
“You…” Jaemin finally speaks up, tone a little too calm for Eunbin’s liking and she watches with wary eyes, nervously biting down on her bottom lip as the tears threaten to fall. Jaemin dryly chuckles with a shake of his head, his tongue prodding at his cheek in pure anger. “You are pathetic”
Eunbin stills, “Wh—”
“I told you. The second you showed up at my door after your trip, I told you how badly you screwed me over. I told you how shitty you made me feel,” He pauses, a laugh of disbelief slipping past his lips as he smiles. “And you think I would still give you a second chance?”
“Everyone deserves a second chance—”
“But I didn’t want to give it to you” Jaemin cuts her off, causing Eunbin to blink at him in surprise. “I spent months trying to move on from you and I was scared it wasn’t going to work, but when you came home that day and you visited me, I realised how I already did. I felt shocked seeing you, obviously, I didn’t expect you to come home. But there wasn’t a slightest part of me that was still in love with you, willing to give you another chance… it was gone”
Eunbin sucks in a deep breath, “Then what about us hanging out together after it? Did that mean nothing?”
“I was willing to give you a friendship for my selfish reasons,” Jaemin nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders. “I hate drama, especially when I’m in the middle of it. I try to avoid it as much as possible and I thought I was keeping the peace by giving you a chance for friendship… but I realised now how my selfish ways actually hurt everyone else I care about in the process. My friends don’t like you, they’re angry at you, angry at what you did and I put a weight on their shoulders in having you around all because I wanted myself to feel fine”
It’s Eunbin’s turn to be silent now, looking across the table at Jaemin in disbelief at his words.
“I got my closure with you, Eunbin. I shouldn’t have kept you around after that” Jaemin admits and suddenly, it feels like a weight has been lifted off of Jaemin’s chest and he can finally breathe, air flowing freely through his lungs.
He smiles to himself—a real smile, the most genuine one he’s given in the past few days and then he laughs, another real sound rumbling from his chest as he peaks with happiness, staring over at Eunbin with a beam as she stares back at him with sadness and guilt.
“Thank you, Eunbin” Jaemin suddenly thanks her and she looks at him confused, watching as he stands up from the table. “Thank you for helping me come to my senses”
“Wait, where are you going?” She asks him, abruptly standing up from her own chair, causing it to scrape against the ground and customers stare over at the table in curiosity.
Jaemin smiles again, shoving his hands inside his pockets. “I’m gonna go make things right”
“I miss Haru” Miwoo pouts over breakfast, stabbing her fork into her plate of scrambled eggs as she scrolls through Instagram on her phone, her pouting quickly disappearing and replaced with a look of awe as she angles the screen towards her. “She looks so pretty”
“The one she posted last night was pretty too” You add with a smile, staring at the photo. “I’m glad she’s having fun. She deserved the break”
“I wish she shoved me in her suitcase” Miwoo mumbles, pulling the phone back from you. “I would love to be anywhere but here right now”
“You and me both” You can’t help but mutter, spooning your cereal and bringing it up to your mouth for a bite, chewing softly before swallowing. “Are you okay? I mean, generally, are you okay?”
“I’m fine” She hums with a simple nod. “I think I’m fine”
“You think?”
Miwoo frowns this time, seemingly worried. “Am I not supposed to feel fine or something?”
“No, no, it’s not that” You shake your head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s just that I was talking to Haru before she left and she mentioned that you said some things to her, about you and Jeno” The realisation seems to hit her as her eyes widen slightly and you’re quick to reassure her once again. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but I just want you to know that I’m here to listen to you and if you want to talk about anything, then—”
“I’m not fine” Miwoo cuts you off, voice vulnerable and honest which immediately surprises you, but you hide your shock as you nod your head slowly, wanting her to continue at her own pace. “Physically, I’m fine… but mentally, I’m not and I don’t like the feeling”
You dare to ask, “Is it about Jeno?”
“Kind of, yeah” She nods, refusing to meet your gaze as she plays with her breakfast. “I don’t know if it’s because it's my first but breakups are hard… and, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m struggling without Jeno. I don’t want to be with him anymore, because I know it’s not good for the both of us. It’s unhealthy, our relationship… but I feel so lost without him. I don’t really know what to do with myself”
“Miwoo…” You frown, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and she sighs, reaching up to grab your hand to hold it tightly in her grasp. You squeeze her hand, allowing her to have her moment as you both sit in silence, watching her facial expressions.
“He was my person. And even though we fought and bickered sometimes, the happy moments completely outweigh it. Jeno made me happy and now I just feel miserable” Miwoo sighs softly, chewing down on her bottom lip. “I miss being with him in a way where we joked around a lot, how we teased each other and just hung out… excluding the sex”
“Maybe you should talk to him?” You suggest, causing her to snap her attention towards you. “He’s still your friend, Miwoo. You’re both still in the group. You haven’t lost him since you broke up… he’s still there, he’ll always be there for you”
Miwoo pulls a face, “But he doesn’t talk to me that much”
“You don’t talk to him that much either. Communication is key”
Miwoo shifts in her chair to face you as she deadpans, “Funny how you give great advice but you can’t take it yourself”
“Hey” You point your fork warningly at her. “Stop turning everything on me”
“Just saying” Miwoo giggles, gently pushing your fork away from her as she sighs. “We’re a couple of girls who struggle to communicate… kinda love that for us”
“You’re insane” You snort, dropping your fork to grab your coffee and take a sip, humming at the taste. “I still think you should talk to him”
“I’ll talk to him if you talk to Jaemin” Miwoo grins at you. “I think it’s a pretty decent deal, don’t you?”
“No”
Miwoo groans as you stand up from the kitchen table, offering to clean up the dishes since she was the one that made breakfast. You hear her mumbling to herself behind you but you pay no mind, filling the sink with hot soapy water to wash the dishes and utensils, allowing yourself to think over her deal.
You would like to talk to Jaemin, somewhat. It could solve a lot of your problems, finally being able to put your real feelings towards him and lay everything out on the table. But it’s the fear of rejection that sits heavy in the back of your mind that stops you from doing anything of the sort.
So, breaking everything off with Jaemin does seem like the right thing to do, even if it leaves you miserable.
It doesn’t take you long to finish washing the dishes, drying your hands on a paper towel and excusing yourself to go to your room but you pause midway when you hear a knock on the door, peering your head over your shoulder at Miwoo as she announces that she’ll go see who it is.
You nod, but you remain still, watching as Miwoo’s figure stands at the door and looks through the peephole and the sound she makes causes you to give her a confused expression, feeling even more confused and curious when she slowly turns around with a knowing smirk on her face.
“It’s for you”
“For me?”
“Yep” She nods with a grin, pulling her phone out of her sweatpants pocket. “I think I’m going to have that talk with Jeno now”
It takes you a moment to realise what she means, your face dropping as it dawns on you, “Miwoo…”
“You got this” Miwoo reassures you as she walks on over, wrapping you up in a warm and comforting hug but your arms lay limp at your sides, unsure of what to do. “Just be honest, okay? Don’t hold back and don’t do anything stupid… communication is key, remember?”
“I can’t believe you’re using my own words against me” You mumble under your breath in disbelief and Miwoo laughs loudly, pressing her lips against your cheek in a sloppy kiss before releasing you, making her way back to the front door and yanking it open.
From her previous statement, you knew Jaemin was standing on the other side. But seeing his face in person, seeing him just a few metres in front of you, your heart thumps wildly in your chest and your palms become sweaty.
Miwoo’s greeting towards Jaemin is brief, a quick ‘hello’ with a hard look as she leaves the apartment, but not before turning around before Jaemin’s back and giving you a thumbs up, something you force yourself to bite back a curse at as you watch her disappear, leaving you and Jaemin alone for the first time in awhile.
“Can I come in?” He’s the first to break the silence, asking you in such a hopeful tone that it makes your throat tighten in panic, feeling like you’re going to be sick as your head starts to swirl so fast you’re afraid you’re going to get dizzy and faint. Jaemin takes a hesitant step forward as he sees the difference in your expression, “Are you—”
“What do you want?” You force yourself to ask, swallowing the lump in your throat and breathing steadily through your nose. You didn’t mean to sound so rude towards him and you regret it the second you see his face drop. “Just—what are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you” He says, eyes roaming your face with his brows furrowing. “We need to talk, face to face”
You straighten your back, “What is there to talk about?”
The corner of Jaemin’s lips twitch up subtly, “I think you know what we need to talk about”
You mentally pick a fight with yourself as you nod and tell him to come in, watching as he steps inside the apartment and closes the door behind himself. You bring him over to the living room but neither of you sit, continuing to eye each other to see who cracks first and you feel the annoyance bubbling in your veins, biting down on your inner cheek as you cross your arms over your chest.
Unfortunately, it’s you who breaks first.
“Why did you start this friends with benefits situation with me in the first place?” You find yourself asking first, tone slightly harsh and Jaemin blinks at you in surprise, not expecting that to be the first thing you’d ask. You stand your ground this time. “Why, Jaemin?”
His eyes lock on yours. He makes you feel small. You hate it. “You know why”
You let out a dry laugh, “Do I?”
Jaemin shakes his head, “This isn’t what I wanted us to talk about—”
“I want to talk about it” Your finger pokes at your chest. “I want to know. I need to know”
“We started this friends with benefits situation because we missed sex. We told each other at the beginning of it all that we missed sex but didn’t want a relationship to come with it. That’s all it was, you know that” The serious tone Jaemin uses makes you feel sick once again and you couldn’t even bear to look at him, instead finding interest in something in the corner of the room, teeth biting harder down on your cheek to stop the emotions from letting loose. Jaemin’s shoulders sag as he sighs, “Can you please just look at me?”
“I don’t want to” You know you sound childish, especially with how your voice sounds and your stubbornness, but you didn’t really want to look at him, not when you’re on the verge of tears.
Jaemin exhales deeply and you hear him drag his feet across the floorboards, heading straight towards you and you take a step back but Jaemin’s too quick, already standing in front of you with his cold hands coming up to cup your face, forcing you to look at him.
“I—”
“I refuse to believe it, you know” You blurt suddenly, eyes brimming with tears that burn. “I just—I can’t believe it. Not after everything we’ve practically been through together. You believe that this was just sex? That the months we spent together, we were just two friends having sex? To fill that empty void?”
“Wait, I—”
“Do you realise that you were the one that broke the rules we had first? The rules that were supposed to keep us grounded? To not let us stray down that path of feelings? You broke two of those rules in the first week we got into this and now you’re here? Telling me that sex was all it was?”
“Baby, you’re not—”
You cut him off immediately. “Enough with that fucking name”
“Y/N—”
“You left me confused, Jaemin” You’re refusing to let him talk now but you can’t help it, your emotions and your feelings getting the complete best of you. You can’t stop yourself. “I loved what we had, it was fun, but you left me so confused. You would do things and you would say things that can be interpreted into something completely different. Then the exclusive shit happened and even though it was something I agreed to, it shouldn’t have happened. We went too far”
Jaemin’s hands slowly drop from your face as a frown slips across his, “Do you regret becoming exclusive with me?”
“Sometimes” You admit, causing him to frown deeper and you notice the look of hurt that flashes in his eyes. “This type of situation always gets messy if ‘official’ or ‘exclusive’ titles are added to it. That’s why people set boundaries, rules. But they were constantly being broken by the littlest of things you did… But don’t worry, it was me who ended up being the biggest fool out of the two of us, right?”
“What do you mean?”
You laugh half-heartedly, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter if you broke the first two rules, Jaemin. I was the idiot that broke the biggest one of all”
Jaemin stares at you now, eyes wide as he repeats with a whisper, “What do you mean?”
“Rule number three, genius” You snort out a laugh. You’re aware of how much of a lunatic you must look right now, laughing with tears sliding down your cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to care as the emotions you’ve been trying to conceal come slipping through the cracks. “Rule number three was no feelings involved… No. Falling. In. Love”
Jaemin’s unable to gather the right words to vocalise how he’s feeling, opting to just continue staring at you which makes you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.
The weight of the subtle confession has been lifted off of your chest, but with how he’s staring at you silently is making you feel worse. You don’t know if you want the ground to swallow you whole or if you want to kick Jaemin out of your apartment, to shut the door in his face and forget everything that just happened, but you know that’s not going to happen.
So, you decide to keep going. To bite the bullet. To tell him everything.
“I’ve always had some sort of feeling towards you, but I realised I fell for you when Eunbin came back. How jealous and uneasy I felt when she was around or if you were with her. I tried to make excuses for it, but every kiss you gave me—every touch—I realised that I was far too fucking deep and some stupid part of me believed for the smallest moment, you might’ve felt the same way… but nothing changed. Nothing was said. You were still acting as you always did… closed off and unreadable”
Jaemin hangs his head low in shame. He knows well enough he’s closed off and unreadable, having become the type of person that hides his emotions and feelings towards anything and everything. He feels shame for hurting you with it all, not realising the effect it could leave on you and he sighs, an apology resting on the tip of his tongue and he goes to give it to you, but you start talking again.
“Truthfully, I don’t know anything about you” You tell him, rubbing the tears off of your cheeks. “You constantly have these walls built up around you and you refuse to let anyone in… Not only that, but you refuse to show anyone your feelings. Yet again, it leaves me fucking confused. You confused me and I can’t stand not knowing anything about you, your feelings, your—”
“I appreciate the things I love” Jaemin cuts you off suddenly, causing the words to die down at the back of your throat as you stare at him in surprise. “I appreciate my family for everything they have given me. I appreciate my friends for making memories I’ll never forget. I appreciate my camera for capturing the prettiest pictures for me to see whenever I feel sad. I appreciate sunsets because the colours are warm and comforting. I appreciate coffee because it gets me through the day when I’m exhausted. I appreciate the quietness because sometimes it eases me and allows me to think clearly”
You notice how Jaemin’s breathing gets heavier and you take a cautious step forward, eyeing him as he seems like he’s starting to panic. “Jaemin…”
“And I fucking appreciate you”
You freeze. You can’t move. You can’t breathe.
The words repeat in your head, the meaning of it all, the rawness in his tone. You’ve heard it before, he’s said it to you twice already but you never knew the actual meaning behind it and now, standing in front of him, hearing him say that appreciates the things he loves, it makes your heart thump.
“I’m sorry” Jaemin whispers to you quietly. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for not being honest and real with my feelings. It scares me, it has since everything with Eunbin—but I’m at fault too, I can’t put the entire blame on her. I hold myself back and I do things for selfish reasons… but I can’t keep doing that. It hurts people around me when I do and most importantly, it hurts you. I can’t handle hurting you. You mean too much to me”
He takes a few steps forward to stand close in front of you, reaching for your hands and caressing them in his own, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles before holding them in his grasp.
“Eunbin told me everything earlier, about what she asked you to do at the party” Your brows raise in shock at that, not expecting Eunbin to be the one that confesses first. “I don’t like Eunbin. I’d never give her a second chance, ever. You’re the only person that matters to me, so… don’t give up on me yet. Don’t let me go”
You can’t help but give him a teary smile, laughing softly as you squeeze his hands, the warmth in your chest spreading, “You still want to continue as exclusive fuck buddies?”
“God, no” Jaemin laughs at that, noticing your teasing tone before he smiles gently at you. “I want to be your boyfriend”
“My boyfriend?” You grow shy, feeling a little flustered and Jaemin’s grin widens at your reaction, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to your forehead, trailing his lips down to your cheeks and placing a few kisses there. He reaches your nose next, leaving another soft kiss on the tip before his lips brush over your own.
“I’m ready to be your boyfriend if you’re ready to have one” He whispers against your lips and you nod, wanting to close the gap between you both but Jaemin leans back slightly, shaking his head. “Ask me first. I want to hear you say it”
“Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Yeah” Jaemin grins happily with a nod, letting go of your hands to cup your cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend”
He presses his lips to yours gently and you kiss back almost instantly, lips moving slowly against one another as you melt in his touch, your own hands coming up to rest on the nape of his neck, threading his hair through your fingers.
The kiss turns feverish in seconds, a clash of tongue and teeth, a little nibbling and groping, and you break the contact to let out a surprised yelp when Jaemin bends down to grip the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in the air and you wrap your legs around his hips so you don’t fall.
He laughs, face muffled in your chest as he blindly carries you to your bedroom, a trip he knows awfully too well that he doesn’t make any mistakes or falls even when he’s unable to see the view.
He closes your bedroom door behind himself with a simple kick of his foot before he drops you on the bed, his own body falling above yours and you laugh as he huffs, shuffling his way between your thighs with a grin.
You expected him to kiss you again, to leave you breathless and wanting him but you’re surprised when Jaemin does nothing but caress your face softly, stroking your cheek and tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb.
He’s smiling so gently at you that it makes your heart flutter, the look in his eyes causing you to shy away and look elsewhere but your attention is soon back on him when he whispers your name, leaning down to finally reconnect your lips and you immediately reciprocate, pouring all of your affection and want into the kiss as you lips move against his while your hands fist at his shirt.
Jaemin’s the first to take off his shirt and you follow shortly behind, pulling it over your head and dropping it mindlessly to the floor as Jaemin attaches his lips to your bare chest, leaving light, feathery kisses over your skin and you arch your back with a gasp, watching as he trails over your breast and down your stomach.
His touch is so oddly loving and caring it feels a little foreign, but your chest warms at the thought of him taking his time with you, cherishing this moment and drinking in every part of you.
Jaemin hooks his fingers beneath your sleep shorts and pulls them down your legs along with your panties, and you squirm at the cold air that hits, knees knocking against his side but he pays no mind, deciding to lay on his stomach between your legs.
The sight of him staring at you from his position makes you feel shy, but the arousal builds up inside of you and you lift your hips to coax him into touching you, tasting you and you clench around nothing when he leans in, expecting to feel his lips or even tongue but you whine when you feel him press open mouth kisses across your inner thighs.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” You dare to ask, leaning up on your elbows to look down at him.
He smiles, eyebrow twitching suggestively. “Just taking my time with you, baby”
Without warning, you feel his tongue slowly lap over your slit and you gasp, falling back against the bed as the tip wiggles between your folds before flicking over your clit, causing your hands to fly down to his hair and grip at the roots to ground yourself.
Jaemin seems to be enjoying the moment, moaning in your pussy and he messily slurps you up, sucking on your clit with the right amount of suction that has your body feeling electrified, a cry falling past your lips at the pleasure that swirls in the pit of your tummy.
You start roll your hips against his face, tightening your hold on his hair and Jaemin groans, the vibration on your pussy inching you closer and closer to your orgasm, and Jaemin takes it upon himself to hook one hand under your knee to push it up at an angle that helps him burying himself further in between your legs, mouthing at all the right places.
“Fuck” You curse loudly with a moan, unable to control your sounds as your orgasm builds up faster, the band in your tummy tonighting as your pussy clenches around the tip of his tongue that dips inside of you, the pressure and pleasure becoming too much for you to handle that the band snaps as you cum on his tongue.
“Good girl” Jaemin praises you softly, lapping you up eagerly as he helps ride out your orgasm, grinning as he feels your thighs tremble.
You struggle to catch your breath, dry panting as you arch your hips away from his mouth and Jaemin’s chest rumbles with a laugh, letting go of your thigh as it drops limply to the bed as he crawls up your body to kiss your lips.
You taste yourself on his tongue and you moan, returning the kiss and sucking on his tongue to which he responds by rutting his hips into yours, confined cock pressing against your inner thigh.
“Take them off” You whisper into the kiss, hands grabbing at his jeans. “Please...take them off”
“Okay” Jaemin hums, tongue intertwining with yours as his own hands reach down to pop the buttons on his jeans, awkwardly shoving them down his legs along with his boxer briefs before kicking them off to the side.
You dip your hand down between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his cock, causing him to groan between the kiss as you pump him leisurely, feeling intoxicated with the way he pants against your lips, mouth agape as his breathing gets heavier and heavier with each tug of your hand.
You guide him to your entrance, coating his cock with your arousal as you slide the tip through your folds and Jaemin deeply exhales, pressing his lips together and he cranes his head down to see you position his cock and you awaiting hole, and he pushes his hips forwards, breaching your entrance.
A strangled moan leaves your lips, having nothing of that significant size been up there in a while and Jaemin coos softly, taking your hand in his own to give it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as you both watch where you’re connected.
He sinks into you deeper as he kisses you, rolling his hips to thrust slowly, allowing your legs to wind around his waist and he brings your interlocked hands above your head, pushing them into the pillow as he gets comfortable above you.
This kiss is needy and affectionate, and each fluid roll of his hips has you seeing stars behind your closed lids, unable to control the sounds that leave your lips and Jaemin’s the same, cursing and grunting every time he bottoms out inside and you squeeze around him in return.
Your grip on his hand tightens as your stomach knots, breaking the kiss to allow yourself to breathe when you begin to struggle for oxygen, staring up at him in bliss and he’s smiling down back at you, eyes dazed and lids fluttering with every roll of his hips.
But he buries his face into the crevice of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on your skin as the pace of his thrusts start to quicken, the wet noises of your pussy sucking in his cock fills the room along with your shameless noises of pleasure, and your free hand reaches up to grab the back of his head, threading your fingers through the roots as you nip at his shoulders.
“I’m gonna cum” You pant heavily as you feel yourself tinkering towards your second orgasm of the night.
“Me too, baby” He mumbles, groaning as your walls clamp around his cock. “Fuck, me too”
Your hand tightens around his as you reach your climax, whining as your legs tremble around his hips as the knot in your stomach loosens, cumming all over his cock. The feeling of your walls gripping him like a vice triggers his own climax and he’s moaning into your neck, releasing with long spurts that paint your insides and you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up, the warmth spreading.
He stays above you for quite some time, basking in each other's presence and collecting your breath, staring at one another with giddy smiles which causes you both to laugh.
You love being with him like this, holding him in your embrace and seeing the happiness written across his face, the love and adoration that swirls in his eyes when he looks down at you and even though it makes you feel shy, you can’t help but get addicted to it. It’s something you want to see all the time. He looks so beautiful.
“Hey…” You say softly and Jaemin hums to let you know you’ve got his attention, leaning into your palm when you rest it on his cheek. “I appreciate you”
His eyes widen a little at your words, but the smile gets bigger on his lips and he turns his head to the side to gently kiss your palm before looking back at you, honesty and tenderness within his tone as he says back, “I appreciate you too”
➤𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!” Miwoo screams as Donghyuck takes her by the arms and Yangyang by her legs as they both carry her towards the shore, threatening to throw her into the sea for her teasing jokes towards them both, neither of them backing down as they step into the water.
You laugh as you watch the scene play out, bringing the bottle up to your lips to take a sip as you rest back into Jaemin’s chest who sits behind you, his arms winding around your waist and kissing your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder, watching the trio along with you.
Haru and Renjun sit on the beach blanket beside you both, his arm thrown around her shoulder and she resting into his side, mindlessly playing with his fingers as they speak quietly to themselves about something you can’t make out.
Jeno and Shotaro are sat on the other end of the beach blanket, the former getting up to join in with the trio while the latter stays seated, capturing pictures of the chaotic moment while laughing loudly, causing you and the others to laugh along.
The foursome arrive back to the group and Miwoo flops down beside Haru, grinning happily as the others take a seat too and she grabs her beer, raising it up in the air.
“I’d like to make a very dramatic speech and if none of you are crying by the end of it, I will drown you in the sea”
“Oh here we go” Renjun groans, but the smile on his face shows how much he’s teasing.
“I just want to say that I’m proud of us. We’ve come a long way since the beginning and I’m happy we’re still here together… I don’t think I would’ve been able to become the person I am today without you guys by my side”
Donghyuck starts to playfully fake gag and Miwoo huffs, throwing her middle finger up at him and he begins to smile, returning her insult with some heart hands.
“She’s right,” Shotaro agrees, raising his own bottle and Miwoo grins. “I get happy being with you guys. I wouldn’t want it any other way”
“Shotaro” Donghyuck coos as he reaches out to pinch Shotaro’s cheeks and Yangyang throws himself at him, the pair tumbling back into the sand as they laugh.
“Also,” Miwoo starts up again, looking over at you this time. “I want to congratulate you on signing up for the writers trip you’ve been holding off for so long. You deserve to explore and write about all the places you see”
“Stop…” You chuckle, a little embarrassed under the attention and you feel Jaemin’s chest vibrate behind you as he laughs, pulling you closer to him and intertwining your hands, soothing his thumb over your knuckle. “I’m excited to go, but I’m sad to be leaving you guys”
“You’re acting like you’ll be gone forever” Yangyang says as he nudges your leg with a smile. “You’re only going for a few months”
“I know” You sigh, “I just know I’ll miss you guys”
“We also need to congratulate Haru and Renjun for taking the next step” Jeno announces as he looks at the pair. “Congratulations on moving in together”
“Finally away from you idiots” Renjun teases as he takes a sip of his drink and Haru shoulders him softly with a laugh. “Thanks, Jen”
Shotaro turns to Miwoo worryingly, “Are you going to be okay living on your own for a while?”
“Of course!” Miwoo smiles. “Y/N’s only going to be gone for a few months and I need to learn how to be independent, rely on myself for a little while”
“You know, if you need anything, you got us” Donghyuck speaks this time with a serious tone to Miwoo and she nods.
“You always got us” Jeno chimes in this time, smiling over at Miwoo who smiles back happily and knocks her beer bottle against Jeno’s who lifts his up for a cheers and your heart warms at the two.
“The sun is setting, can I take a picture of us all together?” Jaemin asks as he points to his polaroid camera that sits on top of his backpack and the group eagerly agrees, standing up quickly and moving to stand in front of the sunset.
You and Jaemin both rise from the ground and you go to stand beside Miwoo as Jaemin sets up his polaroid to take the picture and you take this moment to appreciate everything that is going on around you, how the happy smiles on everyone's faces warms your heart.
Who would’ve thought that this was the way things would turn out after everything began? It baffles you, really.
If someone told you a few months ago you’d be in a position where you’re happily with Jaemin as your boyfriend, surrounded by a strong friendship group and an upcoming writers trip, you would’ve possibly laughed, calling them stupid and unrealistic… Yet here you are, living out this moment.
You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you lean into Jaemin as he comes to stand beside you, winding his arm around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple lovingly as he whispers to you those three words.
You’re unable to stop the grin that spreads across your cheeks.
You guess it’s just The Way Life Goes.
A.N| and that's the final of twlg. this had, undoubtedly, been such a wild rollercoaster to make. this fic has brought me a mixture off all different emotions going between happiness and anger, but it's over. and bro. i'm emotional. thank you for all the support you have given this series, it's been incredible, i'll never forget it.
i appreciate you♡
©mrkis
#nct smut#nct angst#nct fluff#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct dream smut#nct#nct dream#nct jaemin#nct dream jaemin#jaemin fic#jaemin au#nct au#nct series#nct dream fic
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street fighter bf!yangyang
pairing: street fighter!yangyang x f!reader
genre: fluff, smut 18+ mdni
warnings: blood and injury, violence, drug use, weed, oral (f receiving), pinv
street fighter bf!yangyang who's such a tryhard. he's the youngest and rowdiest fighter, hopped up on adrenaline with no regard for his safety, taking on anyone at any time. he feels best when he's covered in blood, stimulants buzzing in his system and his hands numb from his unrelenting punches. which is why he wants you there - he invites you to every fight so he can seek you out in the crowd right after he's done. cups your face in his shaky hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, the metallic taste of his blood on your tongue. loves the way it stains your teeth and tints your lips red, laughing when you try to wipe it away and stain your fingers instead. he just can’t control himself, particularly around you, managing to drive home for about two minutes before pulling onto a quiet side street and telling you to get in the backseat. “you’re still bleeding” you whine out to him, pressing your knees together. “and?” you watch him push your legs apart and flip your skirt up, tugging your panties to the side with his bruised fingers before dipping his head down and lapping at your pussy. he’s still high and sloppy, drool and blood dripping from his broken nose making a mess between your thighs.
street fighter bf!yangyang who only feels safe with you. behind the cocky, blood hungry street fighter is a kid who was forced to grow up too fast, swept away by the violence and drugs and money of it all. when he’s with you he doesn’t have to act tough or put on a straight face. so he loves your softness and femininity, spending his free time driving you around, paying for your sweet vanilla lattes and new mini skirts and makeup. he wants to provide for someone with the dumb amount of money he has from beating people up, and he thinks you deserve it more than anyone. he sits patiently as you put pink hair dye in his hair and paint his nails black, brows furrowing and getting serious when it’s his turn to paint your nails, muttering curses when he gets polish on your skin. he smokes weed instead of popping uppers when he’s with you, feeling the stress leave his body as he lazes back on your bed, watching your manicured fingers ghost over his bare abdomen. you trace the dark bruises on his pale skin that nearly cover him completely, from the dark ring around his eye to his broken ribs, “does it hurt?” “what, that?” he looks down at his wounds as if seeing them for the first time before looking up with a dopey lopsided smile, “i don’t feel a thing”
street fighter bf!yangyang who sees every man as a threat. takes protecting you too far, ready to maim anyone who comes close enough. he has half a mind to lead you out of the club with a hand on your lower back, ushering you into the passenger seat of his car before turning around and shoving past the bouncer. all you can do is stare silently when he comes back ten minutes later, blood splattered on his white shirt and his knuckles raw.
street fighter bf!yangyang who isn't as careful with his drugs as hendery is. he knows the older street fighter doesn't let his girl anywhere near that shit (hendery's words), but yangyang doesn't think of the long term consequences. getting high makes him feel okay, and it makes you silly and soft, malleable in his hands. both your pupils blown wide, skin glowing with sweat. his thrusts are slow and sloppy as you squirm restlessly under him, catching your jaw in his bruised fingers so he can see your fucked out expression. "look at me when i fuck you" he's slurring, and you're both so gone, feeling a soft smack on your cheek that makes you flutter your eyes open. his heart swells at how clingy you get, tugging on his hair and pouting your lips for a kiss, broken whines caught in your throat. "hi, baby" he pushes two fingers past your lips, something to suck on so you stay awake, "s'okay. you're okay. i'll fix it, baby. i got you"
#౨ৎ street fighter diaries#street fighter!yy#yangyang#liu yangyang#wayv#nct#yangyang smut#yangyang x reader#yangyang x you#wayv smut#nct smut#wayv hard hours#wayv hard thoughts#nct hard hours#nct hard thoughts#mine
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nonidol!kim sunwoo x f!reader
you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's.
▷ genre, warnings. s2f2l, mutual pining/crushing, college au, fluff, minor angst, humor, comfort, swearing, i actually know very little about anything going on w their majors tbh LOL 💀, uhh sunwoo's a simp but wbk, the outline of sunwoo's abs but if u read too fast u will miss it, kissing, low-key miscommunication trope (im sorry i hate those too), rip sorry yangyang, uhm they're kinda cute i *guess* :/, if there r typos then whoops i don't like editing !!
▷ word count. 28.7k help TT
this is the fifth installment of the love in unity series! this fic can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to the main plotline and all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. ALSO, the second episode specifically has a direct reference to a scene from flight risk, but the rest of the fic won't need any other outside context!
a/n: for @justalildumpling and her chopsticks <3 i dragged myself out of writer's block, pls reblog :'))
EPISODE ONE (PILOT): RHAPSODY… LIKE THE BOHEMIAN ONE?
THERE was something about general education requirement courses that felt too much like a university scam. Why was it required to learn more about things that wouldn’t help one’s chosen career path in the long run? Sunwoo hadn't necessarily been thrilled when he wasn't able to get one of the lower level English classes to fill his requirement, but the 300-level literature class had so far turned out to be… actually interesting. Well, the literature itself was interesting enough. The professor?... Not so much.
There was one thing about this class that he could safely say kept him sane though. And it was more so a person than a thing.
The discussion classroom wasn't terribly full as he strolled through the door with his hoodie thrown over his dark brown curls and headphones, a pretty voice flowing through the ear pieces as he took his usual seat to the side of the room.
"...and we're back! Hope you all enjoyed this week's song recommendation. It's been a favorite of mine ever since my dad introduced it to me when I was a kid. An absolute road trip banger—"
Sunwoo's eyes flickered up to see that the TA for the discussion wasn't yet here, but he lowered the volume on his headset slightly in case.
"—kudos to all the songwriters out there. Writing relevant stuff that transcends time is hard, man. I can't even make meaningful conversation with my graduate student supervisor."
A small smile curled the corners of his lips upward. Just as he anticipated the segment on the host geeking out about her favorite oldies music picks, he heard instead—
"I can't even make meaningful conversation with my other grad student supervisors, you know?"
Wait a minute. Confusion flickered across Sunwoo's face as he checked and lifted one of his headphone ears. That can't be right…
Somebody sat down in the seat beside him, almost startling him because he had his back to the door. It was you, the pretty second-year who he had met on the first day of this discussion a few weeks ago. But he was peering at you now in a whole new light as a smile lingered on your face from your conversation with the class’s TA.
When you felt his eyes on you, you flashed him a bright grin. “Hey, Sunwoo.”
He cleared his throat, fumbling to turn his headphones off and follow your lead in taking out the materials needed for today’s discussion. “Oh, hey, Yn.” It occurred to him just how creepy he was probably being just then…just watching you. But the thoughts in his brain were flying around like mosquitoes around his head—had he been hearing things?
“What’d you think of the reading?” You asked him pleasantly.
The reading from the past week had been the first third of a novel called The Stranger, a version translated from its original written in French. Sunwoo sucked in a breath, grimacing, “It’s not my favorite,” he drawled. “I have no idea what the point of his character is, to be honest.”
You pursed your lips and nodded your head. “Yeah, he’s a little… flat,” you chuckled.
“Is this supposed to tie into the theory that professor was talking about last week?” He asked then, in an effort to actively shift his brain’s focus away from your awfully familiar voice and sayings, and to the present.
“Something about how he doesn’t fit societal standards. I think it’s existentialism and nihilism. Well, at least I think it is.”
Huh. Interesting. Sunwoo gave a little bob of his head, and this was just when the TA turned everyone’s attention to a class discussion about the novel. He definitely hadn’t thought of those terms specifically when reading, but at the same time, he did understand where you were getting that sentiment from. He just couldn’t articulate his view of literature quite as well as you could. That had made you somewhat intimidating to him in the beginning, besides your very cute smile, but he was hoping he could learn something from you nonetheless.
You weren’t even a literature major, he realized as he listened to you offer your thoughts to the group. It was cool, though—you were cool.
— ✶
The Songbird Station was a podcast, radio-esque show that Sunwoo had discovered over summer break, a few weeks ago. The podcast was hosted by an anonymous host who dubbed herself “DJ Dove.” She definitely didn’t mind talking about a few of her personal life experiences; it was easy to simply bar the names and identities. Sunwoo had binged all two seasons so far of the podcast, happily tuning in as a silent listener and admirer of hers for awhile, and he had always wondered where she went to school or who she was, but it hadn’t invaded his thoughts like this before.
Sunwoo laid in his bed the day after the literature discussion, his hands resting on his stomach and his expression turned up toward the violet-red LED-lit ceiling of his room. His phone sat on the edge of his nightstand as it played a playlist of songs that Dove had recommended to her listeners—or well, he wondered if he could safely assume that what he heard yesterday was correct, and that you were DJ Dove.
It would make sense, he thought. You were a sound and music production major, had great taste in music (from the brief conversations you struck up with him while in class), and you literally said the exact same thing that Dove had said over the podcast. It couldn’t have just been a coincidence. And now that he thought about it, your voice really did sound a lot like DJ Dove’s. There was a sort of friendly warmth to both of your voices, and—and—
Knock, knock— “Aye, Sunwoo! I'm going to Juyeon's place now. Are you sure you don't wanna come with?"
Oh, right. He had nearly forgotten that Eric had planned to head over to their new mutual friend's apartment tonight to watch a sports game. Juyeon was a friend of a friend of a friend—the connections ran long in their friend circle, he supposed. Sunwoo stole a peak at his phone screen for the time and his joints ached at the sight of 8:53 on the face. His face screwed up as he replied to his friend and roommate, “Nah, I think I'm still just gonna chill here tonight.”
He grabbed his phone fully off the nightstand this time and turned onto his side.
“Oh, okay. Don't burn the apartment down and don't steal my ramen!”
Sunwoo squished his face down into his pillow, raising his voice slightly since his words would probably be muffled, "I'm not going to steal your ramen!" This guy.
He heard Eric grumble something under his breath from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of footsteps moving farther away from his room. When he heard the front door close, he let out a breath and turned back to his phone. To his surprise, he had managed to absentmindedly navigate away from the playlist screen and to the Songbird Station homepage, filled with a collection of all of your links. One of these links was for listeners to submit song recommendations or ask questions, and most of the time, they were all anonymous with their own little nicknames.
He had never fully considered doing it… but that didn’t mean he hadn’t ever partially thought about it. He definitely imagined becoming one of Dove’s more frequent anonymous submitters and becoming friends with her—on a level that one could consider oneself friends between two anonymous users, at least.
But up until now, he hadn’t thought that he could do it. Well, because Dove was Dove; he was one of hundreds of listeners.
“But she’s Yn,” he thought aloud to himself, turning back onto his back to speak to the ceiling, as if the layer of plaster above his head could possibly give him a viable answer. “There’s probably a reason she doesn’t use her actual name,” he pondered further, expression contorted into deep contemplation. “This feels wrong!” He groaned.
There was at least one person he could count on to deal with his bullshit.
sunwoo’s phone: yes or no
tree rat: no
“Well, screw you, too,” Sunwoo huffed as he swiped out of his and Changmin’s text chain. Out of all the times Changmin said “no” randomly, it had to be this time.
It didn’t matter much anyway though. Sunwoo went back to the links page and clicked on the anonymous submissions. He was met with a customized greeting page from the hostess herself, as she thanked her listeners and asked what they’d like to contribute to the show.
Sunwoo moved to sit up against his headboard as he racked his brain for something to say. He had tons to say, but the first message had to be perfect, right?
“It’s fine,” he said out loud, thumbs flying over the keyboard to type out the first thing that came to mind. After all, it was completely anonymous, so it wasn’t like she would—or you would—even know it was him.
He probably read over his little paragraph about a hundred times before attempting to figure out an anonymous name to sign off with. He hugged his knee to his chest when he couldn’t come up with something cool, charming, or unique. Maybe he would stay completely unknown for now. Maybe he wouldn’t even have the courage to submit another message after this one anyway!—
"Rhapsody," he said aloud. Rhapsody was a cool word. Rhapsody anon? Was that who he would sign as?
He did the most logical course of action: look up the word. He asked the internet for its most basic definition, then somehow ended up in the rabbit hole of etymology of the word rhapsody. It described one who stitched verses or songs together—something of the sort. It sounded cool, at least.
It would have to do… and even if you—or DJ Dove—thought it was stupid, no one would know it was him.
Before he could psych himself out of it, Sunwoo pushed the submit button and launched his phone away from him onto the bed like it was explosive. There was something thrilling about anonymous submissions, but incredibly anxiety-inducing, as well. He could only hope that you would be pleased to read it.
— ✶
It was Wednesday when the next episode of the podcast dropped, and Sunwoo was swift to don his headphones on his way out the door of the apartment. The walk to campus was a good fifteen or so minutes, which would get him about a quarter of the way through the episode, but usually the line in the campus cafe was long, so he had plenty of time to listen.
“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and today, I went to my Groupon singing lesson and realized that I think my teacher is having an affair with her neighbor…?”
Sunwoo let out a snortish laugh, covering his mouth with his hoodie sleeve in slight embarrassment as he passed by somebody else going in the opposite direction. Usually, there would be anonymous submissions sprinkled throughout the episode, most of them having to be diverted to later episodes because they were song recommendations. Sunwoo wasn’t super optimistic about his chances of being featured in this episode, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he?
The sky was a pleasant shade of crystalline blue, even as the seasons shifted from summer to fall. There was a slight breeze wafting through the air that brought in the telltale autumnal chill.
"...and luckily the rest was history. My voice was completely dead and my throat is still a little sore, haha, so we'll do a couple more anonymous submissions and recommendations today! This is supposedly a radio show-esque podcast, after all. This one's from a new friend—Rhapsody Anon!"
Sunwoo nearly tripped over the flat sidewalk and sent a nervous smile to the other person waiting at the stoplight with him. Did you just say what he thought you said?
There came a soft laugh from you. "Ooh, like Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen? Such a classic, by the way. Rhapsody says: Hi Dove! Hoping you're doing alright and that songwriting is going well. I'm a relatively new listener but a fan from first listen—awh, wait… that's kind of like love at first sight but for the voice version, isn't it?"
He reddened. The crosswalk turned green.
"Anyways, that's really sweet; thanks so much—there's a bit more of the message that I'll post on my story later so we can save time, but Rhapsody, thank you for tuning in and interacting with me. Your message sounded so heartfelt to me? I dunno," you chuckled and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice, "maybe I'm a little biased 'cause I love your song rec, too. Speaking of which, Rhapsody recommends Painkiller by Ruel! An immaculate choice, if I do say so myself…"
Sunwoo couldn't help but smile to himself at your warm reception of his anonymous submission. He wished he could have gotten your full reaction to his entire message, but he understood that you needed to account for all the other things you had planned.
Even so, an acknowledgement from you would have been enough. He hadn't thought it was possible, but he thought he just became even more attached to this DJ Dove persona.
EPISODE TWO: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY.
three months later.
THE curtains in Sunwoo's room were yanked open, the sound of metal rings against the metal bar scratched at his eardrums and made him grimace. It definitely did not help the pounding in his cranium, and—wait, was he in jeans? There was a disgusting after taste in his mouth, something akin to alcohol, and when he lifted his hand to rub his eyes, he felt dried tear tracks on his skin.
Eric stood at the foot of his bed with a scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm mad at you."
Sunwoo smooshed his face into his pillow in a sorry attempt to hide his eyes from the blinding overcast sky outside. "What's new?" He babbled incoherently.
It seemed his friend and roommate was not pleased with his answer and moved to tower over Sunwoo right beside him. "You couldn't have waited ten minutes before barging in? I was so close to kissing her!"
"Huh? What the hell are you…" Sunwoo's voice trailed off as the events of last night were slowly coming back to him.
Yesterday was Valentine's Day. Ugh. He remembered making plans to go to some singles party with Changmin and Chanhee, and that Eric was bringing EC!Yn over to woo her or something… yeah, he got all that. So why did Sunwoo drink so much and why couldn't he…
The notification… the tweet…
Oh no.
The emotions from last night came rushing back to him like the tide to shore. Horror contorted his face as his brain raced to string pieces of last night together. He released a groan as he brought both hands up to his face. "Oh my god," he muttered into his palms.
The distinct feeling of devastation and disappointment sank into his gut. No wonder he had thrown all caution to the wind last night and gotten himself drunk off his face.
"How bad?" He asked.
Eric still had his arms crossed. "You cried on EC!Yn like a whale and asked why women were perfect and why you couldn't have this one girl." By the drone of Eric's voice, he hadn't been pleased or amused by last night's events. Whoops.
"I'm—"
"You are going to be forever alone, by the way."
Sunwoo dropped his hands from his face and leveled a scowl up at Eric. Now, that he remembered saying, too. Unfortunately. "Hey! I'm still tender from last night."
Eric's smile was sarcastic and he said nothing as he made his exit from Sunwoo's room and left the hungover man to fend for himself. Left to his own devices, Sunwoo pushed out a harsh exhale as he stared up at the ceiling.
He remembered receiving the notification from the Songbird Station Twitter account and excusing himself to go to the bathroom to hear your voice memo. And when he'd finally found an empty bathroom and played it back, he learned a devastating piece of information.
Guys, I went on a date… updates in the next episode. That was what you had said, essentially—you, Yn Ln, the girl Sunwoo had met in his literature course last quarter and whom he had figured out was the anonymous host of the podcast Songbird Station under the pseudonym DJ Dove.
And he had gotten drunk over the fact that you'd gone out on a date, and said date hadn't been him.
"Dude," he said out loud to himself.
He couldn't believe he had gotten so off his rocker by this news. It wasn't like he knew you or liked you or—well, maybe he had grown an affection for you over the span of time he listened to your podcast and interacted with you via his own pseudonym, Rhapsody Anonymous.
But he was just another fan to you, and you would never know his identity.
A guy could dream though, right?
A thought suddenly occurred to him as he rolled over to go through the copious amounts of notifications on his phone he had. There were lots of messages in his group chat with Chanhee and Changmin that he would deal with later, lots of social media notifications, emails, and…
Wednesday. Today was Wednesday.
Sunwoo cursed. You were definitely uploading the episode today then.
He bit his lip as he sorted through the notifications to find one about the podcast. Sure enough, there it was: I Went On A Date? was the title, and he pretended like that didn't make him want to play Lany's Valentine's Day on loop—
The bedroom door opened and Eric poked his head into the room. "I made hangover soup."
Sunwoo blinked in surprise. "Oh. Thanks, man."
"Yeah, don't mention it," Eric mumbled, shifting on his feet. "Seriously, don't mention it."
— ✶
For the next couple of days, Sunwoo left the notification at the top of his phone, pretending like it wasn’t there. It had worked for about five minutes, but the remainder of time he was stubborn, he allowed his imagination to get the better of him. Although he no longer needed to take a literature course, he found himself deeply considering the vague title you had provided. Well, what could you mean by that question mark at the end? Had it not gone well? There was no way it could have, since your tone didn’t really scream “OH MY GOD I WENT ON A DATE!!!” (not that Sunwoo had imagined what he would have acted like post-date with someone like you or anything…). He didn’t even know who you had gone on a date with, and that made his stomach churn.
The curiosity devoured him alive over the two days he managed to torture himself with his overthinking. No one knew he listened to the Songbird Station podcast, and he planned to keep it that way. It would be the absolute death of him if any of his friends found out.
By Saturday morning, Sunwoo had had enough of his own stubbornness and caved. He donned his headphones, grabbed his bag, and headed out the door to do some work in a cafe located on the Ave. There was one that his friend Jacob had recommended to the group awhile back, and Sunwoo hadn’t looked back since.
As he tuned into the episode, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shivering against the cold, winter winds. February weather was a doozy, and a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate sounded so very sexy right this moment.
“Welcome to Songbird Station! I’m your host, DJ Dove, and you’re probably wondering what the title of this episode even means, or why I sent that weird, cryptic voice message the other night.”
The traffic light turned green, and Sunwoo began to cross the road, the coffee shop in sight. His hands were beginning to get clammy in his pockets.
“Don’t riot, but friends, it means exactly what it says—” As you exhaled out a breathy kind of laugh, Sunwoo inhaled sharply.
“Helpful,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed into the warmth of the coffee shop. He shook the cold out of his body before hopping into the line to order.
“ —I did actually land myself a date yesterday. Honestly, I’m not really much of a dater; I never really had time with it over the past years because I would, uh… well, I would rather stay in and do music, y’know?”
The corners of Sunwoo’s lips curled up into a smile. Maybe he had been nervous before about this episode’s topic of choice, but he should have had more faith in you. Rather than speak about the date the entire episode, you always managed to worm in a discussion about your passions, and that was the kind of talk that had first gotten Sunwoo hooked. There was something so attractive about hearing or witnessing a person gush about their passions and ambitions—the way their eyes lit up, their posture righted itself, how they smiled so big that one could hear it in their tone of voice.
He was happy that you went out on a date, because you deserved to meet someone who treated you as special as you were. You were a good person, and it wasn’t fair that he was being so salty about it, especially when he was too chicken to—
“Sunwoo?”
His soul practically fell out of his body. “Shit—” He swore, yanking his headphones down with eyes as wide as the earphones. He whirled around to greet you with a flushed face, red like the old Christmas decorations still hanging up from the crown moldings.
You were standing right behind him with a mildly amused look on your face, your lips pressed into a smile and eyes crinkled in absolute delight. You were similarly bundled up like he was to no doubt shield you from the cold on your way here. “Sorry I scared you! I probably should have, like, tapped your shoulder or something, huh?”
Sunwoo let out a nervous laugh and cupped the back of his neck, the skin there warm to the touch. “Oh, uh, no problem at all. I just kinda…”
“Get scared easy?” You offered.
He huffed with a sheepish sort of smile. “No, no that’s not it. I—I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.” Inwardly, he winced. The fact that he was listening to your voice in his ears, and you just happened to say his name at the same time and appear in the same exact coffee shop as him. Weren’t there fifteen of these places on the block? There was no way you just happened to choose this one at this moment.
You chuckled, playing along. “Ah, I see, I see. We haven’t seen each other since fall quarter though. How have you been?”
You and Sunwoo inched up with the line, so the two of you now stood side by side. Sunwoo was trying everything he could to calm the racing of his heart. Play it cool, dude. “I’ve been okay…ish,” he grimaced, re-thinking his answer. “You know winter quarter is always the worst.”
“For sure,” you replied. “It’s so cold and dreary—nobody wants to leave their apartments, especially me,” you joked.
Sunwoo was about to chime in on how he could totally relate to that, when you popped the question: “And then there’s Valentine’s Day. Crazy how it never seems to rain on Valentine’s Day, though, so people can go out. Did you do anything for it?”
Sirens commenced their screeching in his head. WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO! Don’t let her know how much of a loser you were! He coughed, reaching up to scratch his head. “Uh, nothing special in particular, if that’s what you mean. A couple of my friends and I just went to this singles party.” Would that give you the wrong idea? Probably not, right? Why was he so bad at this, he thought, wasn’t he supposed to be a communications major?
You inched up in line. “Oh, that’s cool. I think I went to one in freshman year at my old uni,” you said.
Before he could stop himself, he said, “I almost forgot you transferred this year.” He knew that one from the podcast when you talked about the struggles of being a transfer student and having to almost “redo” your entire first year experience, social-wise. But you had also told him that when you and he had worked together in your shared class last quarter; it was just that the two of you didn’t really talk much about your old university much after that.
“It’s okay,” you smiled, nudging his arm with yours as a gesture for him to order first. “Not many people remember.”
Sunwoo wanted to protest, maybe to reassure you that it wasn’t that easy to forget something like that, but he was forced to switch gears and order his hot beverage first before he could say anything else to you. After he said goodbye to five more dollars, he stepped aside and made his way over to the pick-up counter to wait for you and his drink.
When you were done, you sidled up beside him, hands tucked into the folds of your coat.
Come on, say something, his inner voice chided. “So, uh, how was your Valentine’s Day?”
He immediately regretted it. Out of everything he could have asked, he had to go with the one topic he really didn’t want to hear about. However, it had been one of the logical progressions of the conversation, and who knew? Perhaps it wouldn’t lead to him feeling like he’d been shot down with lightning? (Was he being a little dramatic? Yes. Did it matter? Not when no one was going to hear him, no.)
You let out a small laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It was okay,” you replied.
It was… it was okay? What was he supposed to do with that answer—
“I mean,” you continued with a smile that looked more like a grimace, “it was—fine! It was fine. Uhm…”
Sunwoo’s thoughts came to a slow, teetering stop. Worry began seeping into the cracks of his brain as new scenarios formed. “Hey, if you’re uncomfortable talking about it, then we don’t have to talk about it.” All of the nerves and envy from before was becoming something softer in concern for your response.
“No! No, it’s okay. I promise,” you reassured him. The look you gave him was earnest, and he felt the fist tucked into his pocket gradually relax a bit. “It’s just weird putting it into words, y’know? I kind of chickened out of talking to my friends about it, and even to—” You stopped yourself short, and he could see you backpedaling in your brain. “Anyways, it just felt weird? I think it would have been a really nice night if I actually saw him in that light. But at the same time, I kind of want to try and give it a chance. Does that make sense?”
He nodded, tension falling out of his shoulders. “It does. I mean, sometimes there’s just no spark, y’know?” He added. “I was just worried he did something to make you uncomfortable or something.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. You don’t have to worry.”
“Okay, that’s good,” he murmured, licking his lips. “I’m just curious—” he piped up, “—and you don’t have to tell me, but who did you go out with?”
One of the baristas from behind the counter called your names, and the two of you both stepped forward. Sunwoo took a long stride to get there before you, and handed you your cup for you.
You murmured a “thanks” to him first before stirring in a packet of sugar. “Liu Yangyang. Do you know him?”
Did he? Yangyang was one of the people Sunwoo recognized from not only around campus, but as a person who made music online, too. Even if Yangyang was in the same year as him, Sunwoo always admired the man’s flow and way with words. It made so much sense that Yangyang would pursue you, someone equally talented and charismatic, especially if the two of you were the same major.
A tightening sensation creeped into Sunwoo’s chest as he marinated on the revelation further. If you couldn’t see someone like Yangyang in a romantic light, then where did that put himself?
As Sunwoo let his intrusive thoughts get the best of him, you finished preparing your coffee.
“I’ve gotta run now,” you told him with a soft-cornered grin. “It was nice seeing you, Sunwoo.”
Sunwoo managed a smile back at you, head bobbing in some semblance of a nod, before you were exiting the shop. He stood there for a moment to gather his wits, his thoughts, and his dignity.
“Did that really just happen?” He muttered to himself. He took his coffee with him to find an empty table and retrieved his study materials from his bag. Technically, he didn’t even have to listen to the rest of the podcast, but… who was he kidding?
EPISODE THREE: HEART TO HEART
“YOU’RE coming with me to the practice rooms, right?” Ji Changmin trailed behind Sunwoo as the two of them shouldered into Sunwoo and Eric's shared apartment with their bags and leftovers from today's lunch. It had been about a week and a half since he had bumped into you at that café and he had been feeling over the interaction since.
Sunwoo popped open the refrigerator while his friend perched on one of the breakfast bar stools, his duffle bag dumped at his feet. "Uh, yeah. 'Course, hyung," he said, shifting some groceries from JC!Yn around to make space for his white plastic container.
A thought occurred to him, and he groaned. "But you're gonna have to go first—without me," he clarified. He grabbed the carton of orange juice out to pour himself a glass, facing his friend's curious look.
Changmin's brows furrowed. "Wait, why not?"
It was a reasonable question, as it went against Sunwoo's normal pattern of behavior. Usually, Sunwoo would tag along with Changmin to the practice rooms at the back of the performing arts building. Changmin was a dance major, and with the highly anticipated winter dance showcase just around the corner, it was important that he got that practice in. Plus, with Eric out of town for an away game, Sunwoo was left alone in the apartment, which wasn't exactly his favorite thing. He would much rather go out and be around other people… unless there was something else occupying him.
Today, that certain occupation came in the form of your first live podcast session, something you were trying out. It was just going to be a live audio stream, so you could stay anonymous with your pseudonym, and answer people's submissions live. You had been advertising it for the past week, having excluded the weekly podcast in order to prepare for today.
Sunwoo was excited as you were and wanted to support you and be one of the people tuning in live. This was important to him, and he had even gone so far as to plan out his day.
"I just have something I need to turn in before the day ends," he said easily, shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. He lifted the glass of orange juice to his mouth for a languid gulp.
Changmin made a teasing noise of disappointment. "Aye, you know if Chanhee were here he'd be on your ass, right?" He chuckled, the dimple of his smile pressing into his cheek.
Sunwoo pouted when he lowered the glass. "If Chanhee or JC!Yn were here, I wouldn't have admitted to procrastination. I have self-preservation skills."
"And you don't think I'd be on your ass?" Changmin gasped dramatically with a hand pressed to his chest.
With tongue in cheek, Sunwoo grinned amusedly. He shook his head, adjusting the hood pulled over him. "Hyung, you can't ding me for procrastination when you procrastinate religiously. Remember that one time you had to beg Professor Ka—"
"Yah! Nobody asked for specifics!"
Sunwoo's chuckle turned into nervous laughter as Changmin reached across the island with a claw-shaped hand. "Ah! No! You stay away—go practice!"
Changmin snickered. "Chicken."
Soon after, Changmin indeed took his leave to head over to the performing arts hall. Sunwoo drained the juice in his cup and refilled it before making a beeline for his bedroom.
The livestream was projected to last for an hour, about the length of a usual episode, but you did say the timing wasn't set in stone. Sunwoo set himself up at his desk, signing into the platform you always used. Over the past couple of months he was Rhapsody, he'd become one of your regulars, suggesting new and old songs from his music library, talking about his day or week or something the last podcast had reminded him of. He liked to think that the two of you were friends—parasocially.
A guy could dream, right?
He was on his phone when the waiting room faded and became a split screen: one half with a sketched sign that read "ON AIR: COMING TO YOU LIVE!" with a little dove in headphones, and the other half was a live chat feed that people who were tuned in could use. There was both a public and private feature, and Sunwoo kept his on the public chat, unafraid of what a bunch of other people behind anonymous names and screens could do to scare him.
"Oh! Woah, I think that worked," came your voice, loud and clear, through his laptop speakers.
He smiled to himself, reaching over to settle his fingers on his keyboard. A tingling feeling bubbled up inside him, starting from his toes and rocketing up through his chest. He could actually talk to you in real time today.
You clapped lightly on the other side, relief pouring through your voice. "Thank god. I'm supposed to be good with some computer programs, but this livestream feature is kind of new. How're we doing, everyone? It seems…" A couple clicks from your end, "... We've got some more people rolling in. I'll give it a couple minutes, but let me know who we've got here today! It's so cool seeing you guys live!"
Sunwoo was swift to type out a greeting message: Dovey hi!! He paired it with a little, hand-waving emoji.
The small gasp of delight from you had him giggling to himself. "Oh my god, Rhapsody! Hi, best friend, welcome in! We might actually be able to hold a conversation for once," you chuckled.
rhapsody anonymous: yeah fs haha
rhapsody anonymous: did u have a good week? it felt weird without an ep from u 🤧
"Oh! Yeah, haha, sorry about that—”
He rushed to type as you continued with answering his question: No no! Don’t worry, I don’t blame you or anything lol it’s just something I look forward to every week.
“...Ah,” you said after skimming over his message. “Understood—and aw, I’m glad it’s something you look forward to every week. That makes me really happy to hear… oh! It looks like the numbers are becoming a little stagnant, so I’m gonna get started. Hi, everyone! Welcome to the live edition of Songbird Station. I’m your host…”
— ✶
An hour later, Sunwoo ended up seated at the kitchen counter, drinking orange juice straight out of the nearly-depleted carton, while the livestream continued on. The whole experience had been one of a kind, and by the way you were able to seamlessly speak and engage with your audience for the entire time made Sunwoo feel warm and fuzzy. He was glad this was working out for you.
There was a gradual lull in conversation, however, and you were just wrapping up your last topic to bring your first livestream to an organic stop.
“...wanna thank you all for being here, of course. 57 people listening to my voice for over an hour is kind of crazy, but this was a lot of fun!...”
Sunwoo was just about to start typing up a message to you when his phone buzzed on the counter beside his laptop. He startled, fumbling with the device and grumbling under his breath until he saw who it was and picked up the call.
“Hyung?” He squeezed the phone between his ear and shoulder, attempting to finish his private message to you. I was wondering if I could…|
Changmin’s voice came out breathy and panting like he had just finished a run-through. “Hey, are you done with your assignment yet?”
I was wondering if I could hang back for…| “Huh?” Why couldn’t he multitask, for god’s sake? I was wondering if I could hang back for a minute? If it’s weird though, then it’s no problem…|
No, that wasn’t weird, right? Totally not. He pressed the 'enter' key, satisfied with the message.
“What were you saying?” Sunwoo asked and picked up the phone with his hand. His eyes flickered back to his laptop screen to find that you had sent him a private message back.
Changmin let out a grumbling sigh. “I was just thinking—”
“Uh oh,” Sunwoo joked.
He could hear his friend’s eye roll from here. “When you get here Kim Sunwoo…”
“Okay, okay, okay!” He chuckled as he read your message and silently punched the air in celebration. “What do you want? I was in the middle of something.”
“Rude! And I was calling you because I was thinking about you,” Changmin huffed. “Anyway, I was just going over some of the movement for Juyeon and my ‘Light a Flame’ duet, right? And I came up with this combo that would be perfect for three people—”
Sunwoo sucked in a breath. “Oh, nonono!”
“But!”
“No!” Sunwoo protested. “Hyung, you know that I don’t… y’know, I can’t dance up there with you and Juyeon hyung! That’s way too much pressure; you’re both so good at dance.” He pressed his finger against the edge of the counter and began mindlessly dragging it along the surface. There had originally been plans of Sunwoo joining Changmin and Juyeon’s dance partnership for this year’s winter showcase performance, but Sunwoo backed out. The winter showcase was far too large of an event for Sunwoo could even fathom participating in, let alone dancing with two of the best dancers he knew. There was just no way.
Changmin sighed from the other end. He’d heard this argument before and he’d argued against this argument plenty of times. “Okay, fine. See you in how long?”
Sunwoo placed his phone onto the counter again so he could tell you that he was still here and hadn’t just left you hanging. “Uh, give me like, thirty minutes.”
“Alright. I better see your ass here in thirty minutes, Sunwoo.”
“Yeah, I know. See ya, hyung.” He hung up then, shoulders sagging slightly from the conversation. It wasn’t like he had to participate in the winter showcase—he was no dance major, nor was he a dance minor. He technically hadn’t even decided on a minor, and had only been focusing on getting this degree finished. Whether or not he had chosen a minor yet was not his parents’ favorite discussion when they visited him, but… it would get done when he had the energy to. He didn’t want to bring up the idea of a dance minor—he saw what it did to Changmin and his parents’ relationship and—well, it was just better this way, for now.
Having finished with his phone call, Sunwoo returned his focus to you, where, god bless, you were still waiting for him in the livestream room.
rhapsody anonymous: omg i’m SO sorry!! >< a friend of mine just called and turns out i am awful at multitasking
“No worries,” you laughed. “I figured that was the case. Everything okay, Rhaps?”
The corners of his mouth curled up at the thoughtful ask. Even when the two of you had been classmates, you were new to the school, but still made him feel like the two of you had known each other for longer than simply a few weeks. It only made sense that you were the host of this podcast, the very thing that had been his source of comfort as of late.
rhapsody anon: yeah nothing really serious lol
rhapsody anon: i just have this friend who’s doing the winter showcase and i was supposed to go to the practice room with him
rhapsody anon: actually, i was going to dance and perform w him too but ig i kind of chickened out
He didn’t know why he was telling you all of this; this wasn’t even what he originally intended to talk to you about.
He heard you make a soft sound of understanding. You shifted in your seat. “I see… the winter showcase is a big event though, as I’ve heard from peers and friends. It's probably really intimidating to even perform in the pre-show, you know? Are you a dance student, by chance?”
rhapsody anon: i’m not, but i’ve taken the intro to hiphop course my freshman year and i usually dance for fun w my friend
rhapsody anon: i think i’ve just always been kind of insecure in my abilities to keep up w him?
“Is he a dance major?”
rhapsody anon: he is
Sunwoo leaned back from the laptop and took his hands off the keyboard. He settled his chin onto his folded arms as he listened to your reply.
“Well, I don’t think you should compare yourself to a dance major, right, Rhaps? I mean, it’s not fair to expect more from yourself when he’s clearly had more experience. And if you enjoy dancing, then I don’t see what the harm in trying to perform or even just being satisfied with private practice sessions is!” You paused for a second to gather your thoughts. “What I’m saying is… is that, I can understand where you might feel insecure, and that’s normal, y’know? And if you’re feeling a little unprepared for this year, there’s always future opportunities.”
Sunwoo peered up at his screen as if he could see you on the other side, speaking to him. He sat up to type out a response. Thanks for hearing me out, it’s nice to feel validated. Sorry this kind of took a downer tone haha it wasn’t my intention, I swear!
You giggled and he swore he was smiling a little too wide now. “No worries, really! I’m glad I could be of help, even if it’s to make sure that you know your feelings are valid. If I’m being honest, one of the few reasons why I even started this podcast thing was to kind of just put my experiences out there in search of validity.” You sighed, “I dunno. It’s a story for another time. I am curious, though, as to why you originally wanted to hang out with me after the others left.”
Oh, right. Sunwoo bit his lip.
rhapsody anonymous: this isn’t really a song rec, but ig it kind of is… i feel like superstar by taylor swift reminds me of u
He held his breath after he pressed the ‘enter’ key.
“Oh…” your voice was soft in surprise, and it made something like giddiness spike in his chest. “That’s really sweet, Rhaps. I… I’m not sure what to say, but thank you. Genuinely.”
rhapsody anonymous: u don’t have to say anything!! really haha ur work and ur words have touched a lot of people
“Even you?”
rhapsody anonymous: esp me
And even after you and he had said goodbye to one another and logged off; even after he was well out of the apartment and on his way to campus, that giddy feeling in his chest still hadn’t left him.
EPISODE FOUR: SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! [AND WE’RE ALL IN PAIN]
DEAD week was not typically something Sunwoo had to worry about, as fortunate as that sounded. There were, obviously, classes that made his stomach queasy and made him feel like the world was crumbling into Hot Cheeto dust, but his classes this quarter had been merciful to say the least. The week before finals week was always something that could be visibly observed on campus: students either manifesting like zombies or zooming around to claim seats in the library; grades rising and falling like the housing market; and snacks and coffee being more commonly consumed than any other moment of the quarter.
It was always a hot pile of shit, no matter the student or major.
“Someone just needs to tell Ouyang to chill!”
“Uh-huh.”
“For sure.”
“—it’s not like we’re the root of all of his problems! I’m just trying to graduate!” Eric halted in the middle of the hallway, causing Sunwoo, whose face was nose-deep in his phone screen, to ram into the baseball player’s back.
“Ow!” He hissed, furiously rubbing the place at his forehead that had collided with the nape of Eric’s neck.
“You’re not paying attention,” said Eric, flatly. He turned to Jacob, who also wasn’t paying attention. “Hyung!”
Jacob’s head lifted from where he was busy smiling down at some orange cat video. “What? Nacho’s learning the periodic table—” He flipped his phone around to show Eric, his face immediately lighting up as he forgot about why he was even mad in the first place.
The three of them were currently in the front half of the performing arts building, heading inwards from the main hall to the backstage area where a couple of their friends were already hanging out. Sunwoo had bumped into Jacob and Eric on his way from one of the campus libraries, and with nothing else better to do (than to study), he tagged along to go find someone to bother. (Jacob and Eric were both STEM majors though, which was weird to Sunwoo since… well, shouldn’t they be bunkered up somewhere trying to survive this quarter’s dead week? Anyways…)
Sunwoo sighed and brushed past his two friends to venture deeper into the building. He could already hear somebody’s music blasting from the sound booth as they rehearsed onstage. Over the past several weeks, everyone had been busy preparing for the winter showcase happening at the end of finals week, right before spring break. Ever since Sunwoo’s talk with you over livestream, he had felt a little better about not joining Changmin and Juyeon on stage this year. Plus, from what he could tell when he watched them practice, they already looked pretty much perfect with just the two of them.
Though, there would always be a part of him that wished he really had the courage to go up there and show the audience what he was made of.
Sunwoo wandered into the main auditorium with his hands tucked into his pockets and the doors closing softly behind him. There was indeed a group practicing their number on the stage at the moment. He could even make out the shapes moving from behind the curtains in the wings as other tech members and dancers rushed to and fro to get to where they needed to. Somewhere in that mass of chaos were his friends.
A familiar voice had him lifting his head toward the sound booth. His eyes widened when he recognized you standing in the booth with Bang Chan, one of the more prominent sound and lighting directors working here at the performing arts center. However, it looked like you were leaving, your hands clumsily wrestling with the zipper on your bag while you continued your conversation with Chan, and while attempting to walk backwards out of the sound booth.
Oh my god, you were going to trip on something if he didn’t help—
Both Sunwoo and Chan pounced toward you as the thought occurred to both of them at the same time.
“Yn, careful!” Sunwoo yelled, as he dove for your phone.
Chan steadied you at the bicep, and you hugged your bag to your chest with a flustered grin. “Oops?”
Chan ruffled your hair as he let you go, nodding his hello to Sunwoo, then ducking back into the booth. You stepped out into the main room and shut the door behind you. “Thanks,” you said to him sheepishly, accepting your phone from him.
The two of you naturally fell into step with one another and Sunwoo let you lead him back out towards the main entrance again. “I didn’t know you worked behind the scenes here,” he told you, cupping the back of his head. If he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall hearing about it from your podcast either. “This is the second time I’ve seen you here,” he chuckled.
You stopped for a minute in the middle of the hallway to get a hold of your things. You had to hike your knee up to properly zip your backpack before hauling it over your shoulder. “Oh, that’s right! Just a couple days ago you were here with your friends, right?”
He gave a bashful sort of grin. He had been here a couple days ago when he came to bother Changmin, and ended up hanging out backstage while Hyunjae’s best friend hosted auditions for her play. It was then that he had seen you hustling about with the Lee Jihoon about lights. He’d been caught so off-guard by seeing you; it was a miracle he managed to even get Changmin to forget about that whole interaction. “Yeah, sorry I was kind of… weird. I didn’t expect you, that's all.”
“Lots of surprise run-ins with us, huh,” you teased, the side of your arm bumping with his as you walked.
Us.
“It’s nice to see you more often though.”
You nodded. “The feeling’s mutual, Sunwoo. Thanks for warning me earlier; I’m usually more careful with my stuff, especially when I’ve got special cargo.” As you said this, you reached back to pat your backpack affectionately.
Sunwoo lifted a brow, opening the door for you as the two of you stepped out into the lobby. “Oh? What kind of special cargo?”
The smile on your face widened. “It’s, uhm, a recording mic, actually! I’ve been coming by to intern around the tech side of things here, and Chan and Jihoon give me some tips about music production, too.” You trailed off, an idea taking hold in your head, and that wide beam from just seconds ago became this shy, little thing. “Hey… would you maybe be up to listening to something of mine? I mean, it’s kind of a weird request, but your music taste from first quarter was top notch—”
“Yes,” Sunwoo said, without even waiting for you to finish your rambling.
You paused, and he rejoiced in the pure delight on your face. “Really? That’s—this is great. Wait, I’m so excited! We’ll need to find a private place to listen, but—”
“Oh my gosh, Yn?”
Coming in from the front lobby doors was none other than Han Jisung, a fellow second-year whom Sunwoo was familiar with. He was bundled in a massive, puffy cream jacket with his head shoved into a beanie, and his nose was reddened from the cold. Jisung tucked the earbuds in his ears away into their case, waddling over to you both with the joy of a baby penguin. “And Sunwoo! Woah, it’s so cool to see you, man. What’s up?”
Sunwoo clasped his hand in his. “S’cool to see you, too, dude. Yn and I were just on our way out.”
Jisung moved over to you and pulled you in for an affectionate side hug. “Oh, well, that’s nice to hear,” he snickered, wagging his eyebrows at you while you sent him a pointed look.
Wonder what that was all about…
“Anyways,” continued Jisung, “I just came by to bother Channie-hyung. Is he in the box?”
You bobbed your head in affirmation. “Yup. There isn’t anyone else with him right now, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty of space for you to bug him.”
“Nice,” he grinned. As he walked away in the direction from which you and Sunwoo came, he sent a wave. “See you both around!”
“Bye!” Both you and Sunwoo called back before resuming your walk out the front entrance.
“So how do you—” The two of you laughed when you both started talking at the same time, saying the same thing. Sunwoo gestured toward you, insisting that you ask the question first. You did: “So how do you know Jisung?”
Sunwoo snorted at the memory. “I, uh, saw him in the hall once and smacked his ass, then asked for his number.”
You had to stop to double over in laughter, clutching your stomach while Sunwoo looked on in flustered amusement. Your face had heated up considerably, and you barely managed to follow him down the steps toward the bus stop. “You what?” You asked, once you could get out anything other than wheezes.
He chuckled, shrugging. “Okay, well, I actually know him from this music summer camp we both went to in high school. I didn’t realize he came to this uni until I saw him last year and… well, made my presence known to him.”
You clapped your hands together and collapsed onto the bus bench. “I was gonna say—that’s one hell of a hello.”
“It’s a true story,” he insisted.
“Oh, I believe you.”
The two of you shared a laugh for a moment and Sunwoo took a seat beside you, his knee bouncing up and down as you waited for the bus to come by. He nudged your shoulder with his. “So what about you then? How do you know Han?”
“Hm? Ah, I just know him ‘cause we share the same major-ish. I’m sound and music production, and he’s just a general music major,” you explained. “We also share a composition class, as well as a writing course. Did you know the guy is a fantastic poet?”
Sunwoo’s eyebrows arched upward. “I would not be surprised; the guy’s an ace.”
“Totally agree.” You fidgeted with your phone between your hands. “He was also one of my first friends here after I transferred. He’s kind of shy, but he’s one of the good eggs you can meet.”
A nod. He glanced over at you, his eyes breathing in the far away look on your face. “Yeah, he is. But hey, at least you got to befriend him then, hm? Maybe some things are just meant to be.”
You met his gaze and Sunwoo felt his heart stutter into a gallop. “Yeah,” you murmured, “I think so, too.”
— ✶
You and Sunwoo ended up in one of the booths of the restaurants on the Avenue. It was a cozy, little hole in the wall with soup that tasted like home and made your belly feel warm and content. You had set up shop at your table, your laptop with the audio file pulled up and your wired earbuds plugged in. You had to power all of your will into not showing Sunwoo how nervous you were for him to listen to this—your fingers shook slightly even as you passed him both of your earbuds.
In an attempt to pass off as cool, calm and totally collected, you brought your glass of water to your mouth to sip on. You'd thought to order food first, then let Sunwoo listen to the file.
"Let me know if you can't hear anything," you blurted out just before he put the buds in.
He paused, then smiled. "I got it," he assured you warmly.
Once the buds were fitted and the song started playing, you could only wait and watch to gauge his reaction.
At first, his eyes widened a smidge. Then he slowly began nodding to the beat, eyes falling closed as he soaked in the electric guitar chords mixed in that Jisung helped you out with. You watched him lean back in his seat… saw the smile bloom on his face, wide like a flower opening its petals to greet the brilliant sun.
And that beautiful smile… oh, he was so pretty when he smiled.
It was a couple minutes later that his eyelids finally fluttered open, and yet that smile on his face remained ingrained there. He passed you your earbuds as you awaited the verdict. "Girl, you've got pipes," he said with emphasis, his face screwed up in an expression one could only describe as appreciative. "Like—oh my god, I want that bridge tattooed on my forehead," he groaned and leaned forward to bury his face in his palms.
Your heart could fly, soar, literally ascend to fucking space! You smiled, big and wide, as you wrapped up the wire chords around three fingers. "I'm glad you liked it."
"Liked it?" He perked up, then melted to the table as he mumbled into his hoodie sleeve, "I could kis…" You didn't catch the end bit of his sentence as his voice dissipated into the fabric of his shirt.
"What'd you say?"
When he lifted his head, his cheekbones had flushed a shade of rose gold. He cupped the back of his neck with a nervous laugh, "Nothing! It was nothing. I just—I just love it, Yn. Really, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because we're friends—"
"Ah, so we're friends?" You jested, even as your heart skipped like a pebble across the surface of a lake.
Sunwoo blinked, lips pursed. "We're not friends?"
"No, I'm only kidding!" You said and leaned your cheek against your fist. "Your reaction was cute though."
You swore something shuddered across his face, but you didn't have much time to analyze it when you felt a presence make himself clear at the head of the table.
Yangyang appeared in a warm-looking jacket and scarf, his eyes flickering curiously between you and Sunwoo. You suddenly felt an anxious spike in your chest at the thought of what this might have looked like to him. That was, until he saw the laptop, of course. You saw the relief in his shoulders, the ease in which he smiled now. "Hey Yn-ie, didn't know you'd be here."
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo scratch his jawline, then scoot forward and offer his hand to Yangyang. "Hey, I'm Sunwoo. You're Yangyang, aren't you?"
Yangyang clasped Sunwoo's hand good naturedly with a typical gummy smile. "Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you."
"I was just showing him the project," you said next, drawing both of the boys' attention to you.
"Ah," your friend nodded. "How'd you like it, Sunwoo?"
Sunwoo lit up. "It was—incredible. I don't even know how to describe it, y'know? If it was on my Spotify, it'd probably be on my Wrapped."
There went your heart, goodness. You and Sunwoo locked eyes across the table, and you wished you could convey how much his words meant to you by just a look.
"Totally agree," Yangyang nodded. "My Yn-ie's got a gift and she knows how to use it." He gave your head a gentle pat, and heat rose to your cheeks from the bombardment of attention. It hit you subtly, an epiphany—
Yangyang cleared his throat then and returned his hand to his side. "Anyways, I'll leave you two to it. I'll talk to you later?" He asked you as he was already taking a step backward.
—the heat wasn't for him. It simply wasn't.
"Yeah! I'll shoot you a text later," you promised. You realized then that you had barely even spoken to Yangyang since your Valentine's Day date ended several weeks ago. There had just been a lot of mixed feelings churning around in your head that needed time to be sorted out. (And it was currently being resolved.) With a slight inward grimace, you turned your focus back to the guy you'd brought here in the first place.
Sunwoo slid your laptop over to your side of the table. "Soooo… you and Yangyang, huh?" He laughed, and you weren't certain, but it sounded a bit unsteady.
You played with the hem of your sweater sleeve. "I mean, kind of? Not really? We went on that date a while back, if you remember, but that's about it."
He leaned in. "Yeah, I remember."
"Yeah, and we also haven't had time to really properly talk since?" You winced. "I guess it's not really as bad as I make it sound. It's just that, we've pretty much known each other since primary school. He had just moved from Taiwan, and we were pretty good friends. And he would move back and forth between here and this one town in Germany, but we would always—" you made a vague gesture, "—find each other? Is that the word?"
You let out a breathy sort of laugh. "I'm sorry, I dunno why I'm telling you my history with this guy. It's stupid."
Sunwoo frowned and shook his head. "It's not stupid, Yn."
You inhaled, then chewed on your cheek. "It's just that I always feel like people don't really stick around, at least for me. But Yangyang… he's been one of the few constants in my life, and I'm really grateful for that."
"I'm sensing there's a 'but' with this."
You indulged him. "But I'm starting to think that maybe I can't really see him as that kind of constant, if that makes sense." Your brows furrowed in thought. The boat you were on rocked roughly with the waves, the water turbulent and unsteady, as if at any moment it could throw you off. But you were used to the rocking, and you weren't sure why you should be so used to it. Settling for Yangyang even though you were beginning to realize that he probably wasn't The One? That was like staying docked in a home port you'd grown used to when you yearned for the horizon.
You heard Sunwoo crack his knuckles, and perhaps there really was a certain sheen to his eyes then. "I don't want to put words in your mouth," he drawled carefully, "and I can't imagine how exactly you feel and I don't know your whole story. But it has to be hard when it feels like, I don't know, like people are moving on without you." The earnestness in his eyes made his dark brown eyes deeper and richer. "And maybe it's comfortable with Yangyang and you want to try with him because you know that you two will always somehow find each other again."
"You kind of put what I was thinking into coherent sentences there," you mused, the corners of your lips curling upward.
Sunwoo reflected your expression. "That's good to hear, because I was pretty sure I sounded arrogant."
You laughed then, shaking your head. "No, I appreciated that. And you got it right." Breathing a sigh, you saw a waiter coming by to drop off the food the two of you had ordered. "I think it's just taken me some time with myself and with—with other people to make me realize it."
He glanced up with thanks as the waiter passed you your meals, and you swore you saw his hand make a move to reach for yours across the table. But he stopped short, and instead, helped move your hot bowl of soup over to you. "You never know," he said sheepishly, "The One could be right under your nose."
— ✶
eric 🤨: dude where did u go??? cobie hyung and i looked up and u disappeared into thin air
eric 🤨: omg jisung said u went somewhere w a GIRL??? IS THIS THE GIRL U WERE GETTING ALL DRUNK AND SAD ABT 👀
sunwoo’s phone: YAH!!! OH MY GOD STFU
eric 🤨: no.
EPISODE FIVE: LOTS OF THINGS BLOOM IN SPRING
“SO her name is DJ Dove?”
Sunwoo made a face around his toothbrush as he spat the frothy white into the sink bowl. “For the millionth time, yes.” Through the mirror, Sunwoo watched Eric’s face as his roommate perched himself atop the kitchen counter and went quiet, his face pensive. After coming home to Eric’s confrontation, Sunwoo promised to explain it all in the morning to him.
It was unfortunately the morning, meaning Sunwoo had spent the past hour bringing Eric up to speed on his nonexistent love life. Fortunately, it was also a Wednesday morning, which meant you had just posted your newest episode of the podcast, and Sunwoo could force Eric to listen to it with him. A part of him was tense at the thought of no longer “gatekeeping” his little secret that he had kept for the past several months, but this was Eric, one of his best friends. Maybe this would lift a weight off of Sunwoo’s chest by finally telling someone.
“...I’m still in the thrall of dead week,” your voice blasted from the speaker of Sunwoo’s phone at high volume, “and it’s come to my attention that next quarter will probably be a lot for me. I guess this is me forewarning you all that I might be late with some episodes because I’ve got this new internship thing.”
Sunwoo dunked his face into the sink bowl as he splashed water over his lathered foam cleanser. “She’s talking about her internship at the performing arts center.”
“How do you—never mind, forget I asked.”
Sunwoo patted his face dry, then opened the medicine cabinet for all of the skincare products he used to start off the day.
“...It’s been awhile since I’ve recommended something myself, so today, do enjoy ‘gone too long’ by lullaboy with me.” The song began a few seconds after you queued it up, and the apartment was then filled with muted vocals and strings.
Sunwoo straightened. He and Eric went quiet for a while as they both let the song sink in. Sunwoo continued to slather sunscreen on his face and neck, and Eric had started up the stove to make a batch of ramen for the both of them.
A peculiar sensation draped itself over Sunwoo’s shoulders, a blanket of something that wasn’t quite calm and wasn’t quite jittery. He didn’t know how to pinpoint or label the weird tightness in his chest. The song was strangely intimate, as almost all the music Sunwoo listened to was, but when it came from another person, it was always a whole new level of intimate. Whenever someone recommended a song, it was a way to view a piece of them—perhaps not a large piece, but a piece nonetheless. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then music was the viewfinder.
Maybe he missed you. But that didn’t make sense—it… it couldn’t make sense. He saw you yesterday, and he was listening to you now. How could he miss you?
“She has good taste,” Eric murmured as the song faded out.
Sunwoo nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. She does.”
“...Hopefully when you miss me you’ll play that song,” he heard you say in a lighthearted tone, even though he felt almost like the complete opposite. “On that note, Rhaps sent in a message asking about the dance showcase coming up! ‘Are you planning on going, and if so, any acts you’re looking forward to? Isn’t it crazy that we could be sitting next to each other and never even know?’ —”
Eric perked up, his head peering over his shoulder to look at Sunwoo as he came out of the bathroom to join Eric in the kitchen. “That’s you? Rhaps?”
“Rhapsody Anonymous,” Sunwoo corrected. “And don’t judge me!” He added with a pointed look, finger jabbing in Eric’s direction.
Eric shook his head with a giddy sort of grin. “I didn’t say anything.”
For a moment, the two boys went quiet with only your voice and the sounds of the stove keeping them company.
A thought occurred to Eric though, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Does it ever feel like lying?” He asked and gestured for Sunwoo to grab a couple of bowls from the cabinet.
Sunwoo walked over with the soup bowls, then leaned his hip against the counter next to Eric. “Does what feel like lying?”
“Hiding that you know it’s her.”
Well… Sunwoo idly scratched his jaw. “I guess I never thought about it like that,” he said. All this time, he’d figured it was probably better that he didn’t bring it up to you. After all, you used a pseudonym for a reason and didn’t show your face. Maybe this was just supposed to be your secret passion project that you used as a safe space. He didn’t want to burst your bubble by confronting you with that information. How would he even go about doing it? Oh hey, by the way, I’ve known that you’re this podcast host DJ Dove for a very long time? That probably had ‘awkward’ written all over it.
Eric passed him a pointed glance. “Something to think about then.”
— ✶
Finals week had come and gone, a hurricane of destruction in its own right. But when the storm passed, it gave way to the beautiful cherry blossoms blooming in the quad. As per university tradition, the quad was filled to the brim with students, staff, and tourists alike gathering to pose in the falling pink petals that marked the coming of Spring Break. This was no different for Sunwoo’s friend group who was dragged out to the event by none other than Choi Chanhee. In an effort to appease his friend in some aspect, Sunwoo had come dressed in something decently presentable: black cargo pants, blue denim jacket, and his face fitted in a pair of dark frames (that were definitely not just frames or missing the lenses…).
He shoved his hands into his pockets after taking a peak at the time on his watch. The group had been here for about ten minutes thus far, and half of them had already split off with their significant others to take their own rounds about the quad. They weren't the only ones—in fact, there were probably as many couples as there were people taking grad photos and cosplay photos.
And wait, someone had come in their wedding dress—nothing spelled out Sunwoo's singleness more potently than a couple getting married.
He took a panoramic glance and accidentally watched another couple go in for a kiss. He looked away with a slight frown, blowing a curl out of his eyes. "I hate this more than Valentine's Day," he grumbled.
From beside him, Kevin Moon sighed as he tested a shot with his camera and had to adjust the settings for the right exposure. "You're telling me." When he raised his camera up again, he immediately had to bring it back down with a deadpan expression, "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."
As the group's self-proclaimed Dad, Lee Sangyeon, summoned the attention of the boys who were present for a partial group photo. Sunwoo smiled for it, then returned to his frown. Chanhee had his camera held up as he attempted to take a selfie shot since he had been staking out this one tree trunk that a group of people had just left. Sunwoo had to admire the way Chanhee wordlessly swooped in like a vulture over a dead carcass.
"Aye, Kim Sunwoo," Chanhee exclaimed and beckoned Sunwoo over with a curl of his two fingers. Chanhee's head scanned the immediate area and his nose wrinkled when he realized he was missing someone. "Where did Changmin go? He was literally right… ah."
Chanhee's voice trailed off and a sly, little grin when he located the man in question. "Look."
Sunwoo followed Chanhee's gaze across the field to where he was sneaking up behind a familiar person. Sunwoo had met this girl twice, once when he and Changmin had gone looking for Jacob and the other when he went with Changmin to go see her for moral support. Both times, strangely, had been at the lab. Huh, did she even go home…?
But then Sunwoo observed the way Changmin and CM!Yn looked at each other. Though Sunwoo had seen Changmin's eyes light up before, this was a different sort of twinkle, something softer. There had always been a cloud hanging over Changmin when it came to this girl, always some kind of bittersweetness that held him back. It made a smile crawl onto his lips at the sight of Changmin so happy.
"Wah," Chanhee murmured in awe. "They really mended their relationship well, don't you think?"
Sunwoo pursed his lips with an indulgent nod. "Yeah, I'd think so."
His friend sighed. "Oh, well. Looks like it's just us two then."
Sunwoo stepped forward and took Chanhee's phone from him, swiftly changing it to the forward facing camera. Chanhee struck a few poses beneath the blush pink trees as he soaked in the golden hour sunlight streaking across the lawn. Eventually, Sunwoo turned the camera back around to take shots of both himself and Chanhee.
He adjusted the phone so that the selfie mode could capture both of them when he spotted Chanhee scuttling back over toward him with a pile of pink petals collected in his palms.
Sunwoo's eyes went wide and he leapt backward away from his grinning friend. "Hyung, come on, let's talk about this."
Chanhee cackled and inched forward still. His hair was the exact same color as the flowers cupped in his palms. "Sunwoo-ah," he sang, "I think your hair needs a bit of color."
"I just did my hair this morning!" He whined and pleaded desperately. The last thing he needed was to be plucking stray petals from his curls later tonight. When Chanhee still wouldn't quit, adrenaline began to pump through Sunwoo's veins in anticipation for what he needed to do next. "Chanhee hyung! We can be civil about this."
"Civility is overrated!"
Just as Chanhee pounced, Sunwoo swerved on the ball of his foot and made a mad dash toward the other side of the quad. Chanhee's giggles filled the late afternoon air like the twinkling of bells, and though it was probably an amusing sight for onlookers, Sunwoo was running for his life.
Sunwoo pumped his legs furiously as he weaved in between people standing and taking their pictures, screaming out apologies for photobombing them as he went. And when he nearly tripped over someone's dog, he managed to lock eyes with yours.
You. Oh my god, you were here.
He had little time to fully comprehend what he was about to do, but he made a beeline for you.
"Sunwoo, hey—oh!"
Sunwoo grabbed your shoulders and careened himself behind you, his face partially hidden behind yours. "I'm sorry, but—" he screeched, "—he's threatening to ruin my hair!"
Chanhee laughed as he stopped in front of you and Sunwoo. His pale cheeks were dusted with the color of the flowers in the air. "Ah, well, hello. This isn't very gentlemanly of you, Sunwoo. Who's this?" He threw Sunwoo a look over your shoulder.
Fuck. He hadn't thought this one through.
Sunwoo laughed sheepishly and let go of your shoulders to clasp the back of his neck. It was only then he realized you were wearing a delicate, pastel sundress with cherry blossoms littered in your own hair. A gentle breeze wafted by and through your skirt and brushed back a few strands of your hair too.
Pretty…
"This is," he stammered, snapping out of his daze, "Yn. Yn-ie, this is one of my close friends, Chanhee."
"It's nice to meet you," Chanhee said with a warm smile and slight bow of his head.
You gave a little wave. "Nice to meet you, too, despite the circumstances."
"I would wave back," Chanhee gestured with his hand of flowers, "but this is a nice pile, don't you think?"
To your credit, you played along. You laughed, "I totally agree. It definitely should not be wasted on giving me a wave. Though, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to get back at Sunwoo." You turned your head and cocked a brow at him, to which he smiled back boyishly.
Chanhee considered you again for a moment. "I like your style. I guess I'll just… leave you to it then," he drawled and sent Sunwoo very pointed glances with his eyes toward you. Something about the way Chanhee's eyes narrowed minutely made Sunwoo want to hide behind you again.
Chanhee whistled a merry tune as he went on his way, leaving you and Sunwoo to your own devices as he probably went to go find his next victim.
"I'm so sorry about that," Sunwoo lamented as soon as Chanhee was out of ear shot. "I did not mean to make you a human shield."
You chuckled. "It's okay, dude, really. Definitely didn't think I'd find anyone I knew in this mess, so it's nice seeing you out here."
Sunwoo gave you yet another once over and felt heat crawl up the column of his neck. "I—you look really pretty," he said, gesturing to your outfit.
"Oh, thank you," you chirped. "You clean up quite well yourself."
The two of you shared a smile then and for a second, Sunwoo's mouth went dry and no words leapt from his tongue. They all remained lodged in his throat where his heartbeat went pitter-patter.
He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with you for a moment.
You made a vague nod toward one of the open benches lining the perimeter of the quad, an invitation. "Wanna come sit with me?"
"Do I?" Yes. The answer was yes.
When you and Sunwoo were seated side by side, centimeters separating your arms and legs from touching the other, his heart still had not settled. The adrenaline, in fact, also had her to dissipate. With wide eyes, he soaked everything in.
"Did you go to the winter showcase on Friday night?" He blurted, turning to you.
You met his gaze. "I did. It was such a cool experience, especially since it was my first time. Did you?"
He nodded, locking his lips. "I did, yeah," he murmured. "I had a couple friends performing, so we all went to cheer them on. It's always a really great time though; I'm glad you got to go."
"Oh, that's nice. I always find dancers so impressive," you said with a wistful gleam in your eyes. "Do you dance?"
He found himself fidgeting with Chanhee's phone that he still held onto in his lap. "A little," he admitted bashfully. "I took an intro to hip-hop class last year, and I sometimes dance with my friends. Just—not in public," he said.
For a second, something flickered across your face. But he must have been dreaming because it was gone as quickly as it came.
"So music and dance? You're a multi-talented threat, Sunwoo."
"Aw, not really," he giggled. He wanted to hide his burning face in the collar of his jacket, but there was something about you that also made him unafraid to show you this side of him. Actually, you made this side of him come out. He wasn't usually so terribly shy, always tumbling over his words and doing diction cartwheels… communications major, his ass. "What about you? You're literally a musical genius. You should be on my Spotify Wrapped, Yn."
This time, he could relish in making you flustered. "Aye, you can't say that and expect me not to wanna…" You lost your own words, biting your tongue.
He didn't know what got into him, but he leaned forward closer to you. "Expect you not to what?" He asked lowly, teasingly.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and he swore his own rapidly-beating organ was going to come flying out of his chest.
"Expect me not to—steal your glasses!" With a high-pitched squeal, you snatched the lensless frames from right off his nose.
Sunwoo gasped in scandal, diving to grab them back, but you had already stood up from the bench. "Yah! Those were expensive frames!"
Your face lit up as you donned them. "You'll have to take it off my face then!"
"Bet!" And he lurched after you as you took off into the setting sun.
Your voices echoed across the quad: "Jisuuuuuung! Jisung, save me!"
"Jisung can't save you when he's scared of me!"
EPISODE SIX: AND THE MUSES ARE OFF!
"IT'S not a date!"
"It's a date!"
"It's not a date!" Sunwoo stopped abruptly in the middle of his living room where he had been wearing a hole in the wood floors from pacing. He whirled on his sock-clad heels to face his sofa of judges, Changmin and Chanhee. Eric was out with his girlfriend watching the newest action movie that had come out over Spring Break. "She would say if it was a date, right?"
Chanhee smacked his palm against his forehead with a puff of air. Changmin, however, leaned back on the couch with a ponderous look on his face and rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "She probably would. She seems like she has more balls than you."
"Hey!"
Changmin grinned. "Just saying." He then leaned down to pick up his duffle bag sitting at his feet. "I've gotta run now, but let me know how it goes."
Sunwoo leveled a scowl at him as he passed by to go to the door. "I hope CM!Yn trips you in the practice room."
"Into her arms!" He hollered back, which was swiftly followed by the front door slamming shut.
While Changmin was headed out to meet CM!Yn at the practice room for her first time returning to dance after three years, Sunwoo and Chanhee were left to prepare Sunwoo for today's agenda. Yesterday, you and he had traded numbers, to which you had immediately asked if he'd wanted to hang out with you some more over Spring Break. The answer had been as easy as counting to three.
Now the only problem was to not freak out over it.
"You're picking up lunch, aren't you?" Chanhee asked as he shoved Sunwoo into the bathroom.
Sunwoo nodded shallowly and picked up his round brush and blow-dryer. "Mhm. I'm meeting her at the performing arts building, and we're gonna take the metro up to Lake Anchor. Ever been up there?"
Chanhee fixed the collar of Sunwoo's white button-up, then snatched the brush and blowdryer out of his hands to do it for him. "Nope. Heard it's nice up there though."
"Yeah," Sunwoo muttered, nearly dropping the serum bottle in his hands. "She said her friend Sieun recommended it."
"Ah."
It wouldn't have felt like a date as much if Sunwoo hadn't searched up Lake Anchor when you'd texted him about it last night. The place was gorgeous, a certified calendar-worthy landscape with purple mountain majesties in the back and shores lined with emerald green hills and willow trees. It didn't help that the Reddit pages all deemed it a "couple's picnic spot you can't miss." Oh, he wasn't going to miss it, all right.
Thirty minutes later, he found himself outside the doors to the performing arts center where you said you were currently taking a tech lesson from Bang Chan. He had a paper bag of snacks and sandwiches from the local convenience store in one hand and the other tucked away into his pocket.
He wondered if he could go in and see you, but he'd already texted you he was waiting outside, and you'd replied you were on your way out.
Just as he was about to go sit on one of the benches, one of the doors at the entrance opened. You emerged out into the late spring morning with the breeze in your hair, a tote bag slung over one shoulder, and a ukulele case hanging from the other. You smiled wide at him and waved.
Sunwoo's lips parted into a grin. "Hi. I got us snacks," he said and lifted the brown bag in his hand.
"Sunwoo, you didn't have to," you pursed your lips fondly, adjusting your bag straps.
"I wanted to." The two of you fell into step in the direction of the closest metro station. It would be a short walk from here into the university Avenue, and down a block to the station. Everything was conveniently placed in the name of accessibility. "Plus, I didn't really eat breakfast," he admitted.
"Me neither." You cupped half your face with your palm. "Aish. I always forget I have, like, yogurt in the fridge, y'know?"
Sunwoo chuckled. "Yeah, I get that. My roommate and I always forget that we have groceries in the fridge because we always see the ramen packets on the counter instead. How was the lesson with Chan?"
The two of you stopped at the intersection to wait for the light. You hugged your ukulele to your chest. "It was good! He's always really helpful and knowledgeable—and patient," you mused. "I hope you don't mind me bringing my uke along though. I thought it would be a nice form of entertainment once we got up to the lake."
"I'm not entertaining enough for you," he gasped melodramatically, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.
You laughed, and the sound made him break his pout and smile. "I thought I would be the entertaining one for once. D'you know how to play?"
The crosswalk sign turned on for you, and you both made your way across.
"I know some guitar," Sunwoo answered, "but just the basics. They teach you a bit at summer music camp." As he walked by your side, he felt his hand brush against the back of yours. "My hyung—Jacob—he plays guitar pretty well. He's good at singing, too, like you."
He caught your smile from the corner of his eye.
"He did it to woo his girlfriend," he jested, sticking his tongue in his cheek when he remembered how JC!Yn brought him and Haknyeon up to speed last quarter about her love life antics.
You chuckled. "That's a shame you know the trick," you said with an impish twinkle in your eyes, "because that was exactly my plan."
Sunwoo came to a screeching halt in the middle of the walkway, and when you realized he was still staring wide-eyed at the sidewalk, you let out a laugh and went back to drag him along to the station.
— ✶
The view was something out of a magazine, the kind that took one's breath away. You and Sunwoo had claimed the shade beneath a willow tree and settled down across from each other with the brown paper bag flattened out to display the feast he had purchased. There were other small groups of people around, as well, all of whom seemed to have the same ideas as you two as they soaked up sun, read books and napped in the shade, and picnicked along the grassy shoreline. There was even a small booth a mile down the bank that rented out swan-shaped paddle boats and canoes for people to take out onto the water.
You and Sunwoo had pretty much demolished all of the goodies he brought with him. The conversation had been flowing, simple and organic, and you felt at peace—that was the best way to describe it. Maybe it was the location, the circumstance, the company, or all three.
You picked up your ukulele from where it laid in its case by your side. "Any suggestions?" You queried, taking the instrument out and checking that it was in tune.
Sunwoo brushed his hands of crumbs and braced his palms on the grass behind him. It was the visual of him in that white shirt, his sleeves rolled up and collarbone exposed, jawline clean and sharp as he gazed out at the view that made your heart race again. "Hmm," he hummed, "what did you first learn on it?"
"I think I taught myself Lemonade by Jeremy Passion," you said to him and scoured your brain for the right chords. You strummed a G-flat minor, and when it sounded about right, you shifted to B, until you managed to jog your memory of all four chords.
He watched you with softened eyes, his knees pulled up to his chest now as he leaned his cheek onto the tops of his knees. "That's a good song," he murmured.
"Do you know the lyrics?"
He chuckled, shaking his head and flicking his wrist. "Oh, no, no. I don't sing."
"Doesn't sound like you can't," you quipped back with a teasing tilt in your smile. You swayed a little as you played the tune over and over again. "A little shy, are we?"
You could see the smile peeking from his lips even when he tried to hide it in his arms. "I don't sing a lot."
"If I sang the first verse, would you join me in the chorus?" You offered as a compromise. You wouldn't push after this if he still refused, but there was a part of you that felt like you needed to hear this beautiful man sing for you.
He balked for a second, toeing at the dirt. Then, "Okay. I'll join in at the chorus."
A smile bloomed on your face. "Excellent."
You were a little shaky going in yourself. Though you had definitely practiced this song more times than you could count, performing it for someone else was always like playing it for the first time. And you wanted Sunwoo to enjoy it, and to be impressed by you. You wanted to do well for him and to be able to encourage him.
As he said he would, you heard him join in at the chorus—softly, at first, until he was the main vocal and you could bolster him with the harmony.
His eyes met yours, all smiles, as the song continued on. The ending verse… dear god, you could fall over from pure giddiness at the way he nailed the runs and you could do a little showing off with your strumming. Shivers, just plain shivers.
"She's exactly what… I need," he crooned, fingers playing absentmindedly with a strand of grass.
You let the vibrations of the strings linger in the spring air for a moment. It was like the two of you were encased in this bubble all by yourselves; and it was beautiful. It was perfect.
"I knew you could sing," you said to him. "I just had a feeling."
He hung his head, but the smile on his face could not be suppressed. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For encouraging me," he shook his head. "Believing in me."
You pursed your lips together thoughtfully and you wished you could pick his brain without risking total invasion. "Do people not believe in you often?" You asked quietly, shifting to move yourself around the pile of rolled-up trash and to sit next to him.
He followed your lead, scooting himself next to you until you were no longer opposite, but adjacent. "Not people, just me, I think."
"Ah." You could empathize.
He gave a shallow nod. "Do you ever get scared of making a mistake so you don't—I dunno—go for it? And then you end up thinking that maybe not taking that risk was the mistake?"
You set your ukulele down in the case beside you and mirrored his position, arms looped around your legs. "I do. All the time actually, and it's a scary feeling."
"Yeah," he exhaled. "Sometimes I wish I had just gone into music, full-on. I mean, a communication major is useful and all, but there are times when I wonder where I would have been if I had nurtured that passion."
His words resonated within you. There was a reason why you transferred to this university and decided to leave your original plan behind. You had gone into college with an intent to major in Computer Science, but less than a year in, it had become abundantly clear to you how unhappy you were. Leaving wasn't just a choice, it had been a need.
You turned to look at Sunwoo and you felt your chest tug toward him. You bumped his leg with your knee. "You still have time," you said. "It's not too late to still see where that goes."
But you knew the conflict that warred in his head; you knew it all too well because you had experienced it firsthand. It was much more complicated than simply chasing after one's dreams. There was obligations, expectations, fears, and physical obstacles that made the situation more complex than it seemed at first glance. You didn't know his family situation, didn't know the whole story of why he hadn't taken his summer music camp experiences and translated it into his current college career.
You didn't know it all… but you wanted to. You wanted to know everything about him.
"You said you don't have a minor figured out yet, right?" You asked suddenly, an idea coming to you.
He hummed. "Yeah."
"Well, why don't you choose music as your minor?" When he didn't answer right away, you added, "You obviously don't have to decide right this second—it's just something to think about."
(It seemed he had a lot he needed to think about lately.)
Sunwoo rose up and leaned back onto his palms again. When he turned to look at you, a sense of calm had come over him this time. "I really appreciate you."
You broke into a smile. "I appreciate you, too."
"No, really," he laughed, then bit his lip. "I'm sorry for screwing the mood—"
"You're not! Really," you insisted. "I don't mind. I like having meaningful conversations with people who mean a lot to me."
He didn't even have to say anything, because there was this look, one you simply could not ignore. It made your stomach feel like it was swarmed with butterflies and that you were walking on air. It was like watching him smile while listening to the song you wrote, like walking out of the performing arts center to see him waiting for you. He didn't have to say anything because you knew—you had to. There simply could not be any other explanation, right?
EPISODE SEVEN: WHAT IF SOULS FEEL FAMILIAR FOR A REASON?
YOU had been keeping a secret.
"So what you're saying is that you know that he knows, but he doesn't know that you know that he knows?"
You nodded, arms crossed. "Yeah, pretty much."
Jisung made a face and rested his temple against his palm. "My brain hurts."
From where she was perched on a stool, Park Sieun reached over and patted Jisung's nest of hair. "It is a little confusing. Why don't you just confront him about it?"
"I don't know," you huffed and fell back against the wall. The three of you were holed up in one of the private studios on campus. There weren't many buildings opened since it was still Spring Break, but many of the performing arts facilities were. Jisung had offered for you and Sieun to meet him in the room he had snagged and had been currently occupying in order to bust out as much creative energy as possible. (Newsflash, it was not going well, hence, yours and Sieun's invitations.) Studio rooms were pretty much soundproof, so they were good for those in the music programs who wanted a private space to practice or record things.
You had just brought them up to speed on your latest outing with a certain Kim Sunwoo up to Lake Anchor, as Sieun had so graciously suggested to you the other day. After your outing, however, you'd come to one very solid conclusion.
Well, and there was the matter of The Anonymous Situation.
Just this morning, you had opened your inbox to find another submission from one of your regular anonymous listeners whom you affectionately nicknamed Rhaps. Rhapsody Anonymous had begun to pop up in your inbox just last quarter, and it wasn't until recently that you figured out who it was. At first, it seemed completely implausible for Sunwoo to be the face behind the name, because there was no way out of a whole internet of people that he had managed to stumble across your podcast.
To make matters more complex, you had an inkling that he also knew that you were the host of Songbird Station. He had sent you something along the lines of: "Hey Dovey! I stumbled across this song recently that I haven't heard in awhile. It's called Lemonade, and I realize that I've only actually heard the ukulele vers. LOL anyways, I hope you're not too busy this Spring Break and that you've had time to relax. I've always wondered though… have you ever met someone who feels familiar to you? Not like in a 'I've reunited with you after five years' kind of familiar, but like… something more like kindred spirits……"
The whole message had the same amount of sweetness he always used to contact and interact with you, but the recommendation of the song Lemonade simply could not be a mere coincidence. You just couldn't accept that.
You had pondered this for a long time—the possibility of confronting him about his anonymous persona. And of course, there were several things that held you back from doing so. "I mean," you began, pushing off from the wall to slowly pace the little room available, "I don't want to scare him, y'know? Like I'm sure there's a reason why he goes by a pseudonym like I do, and I don't want to burst that bubble.
"Plus," you continued, "what if I'm just thinking about this all wrong? What if I've read the signs completely out of proportion and he's not actually Rhapsody Anonymous? That would just be embarrassing."
You stopped in front of your friends with your hands positioned on your hips and your head quirked to the side in thought.
"Would it really be so bad if you brought it up, like, even subtly?" Sieun asked you, her pink-tinted lips pursed slightly.
Jisung piped up, too, "Yeah, Sunwoo's a pretty cool guy. And based on what I've seen between the two of you and what you've told us, I don't think he would laugh at you or anything."
"I don't think he would laugh at me either," you confessed. "It's just kinda scary."
The two murmured their agreement. Though Sieun was your trio's only extrovert, you actually had no idea how you'd come to be decently close friends with these two. You chalked it up to all frequenting similar social circles. The music program was always a good way to make friends, and you were glad that it had yet to fail you, even in college.
Sieun made a vague gesture with her hand. "I think you should try, though. I'm sure you'll find a way to slide it in," she chuckled.
Jisung snorted. "I have never seen that man so flustered in his life."
"Yeah, he has to be whipped for you, Yn-ie."
A cough from the boy in the room. "Not like you're any more whipped than he is."
"Han Jisung!" You reprimanded, heat swarming to your cheeks.
He broke into a boyish grin, eyes wide and alight like a chipmunk. "What? Don't give me the government name; you know it's true!"
Even Sieun was laughing behind her oh-so delicately placed hand. "He's got a point."
You sighed, wrinkling your nose. "I came for support, not a call out."
"Are those not the same things—AH, I'M SORRY DON'T WHACK ME—!"
— ✶
There was a place on the Avenue with the best lime soda, as Sunwoo had claimed, when the two of you coordinated to get lunch together. Because you had chosen the place of your last hangout, you'd insisted that he chose a place this time. By his texts, he had seemed pleasantly surprised to be hanging out again so soon, and while your nerves were high in anticipation for the coming conversation, you also couldn't wait to spend time with him some more.
You met outside the storefront of a Vietnamese restaurant that you'd only seen in passing, and had yet to try. You glanced up from your phone just as Sunwoo came up from down the road toward you, dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket.
"Hey, sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he swung the door open for you.
You and he ducked inside. "It's no worries," you assured him. "Hope you're not sick of me just yet."
You saw that boyish grin of his as he caught your eyes and signaled the waiter for a table for two. "Never."
When the two of you were seated, your eyes greedily took in the options laid out on the menu. There were just far too many appetizing items—maybe you should have scouted out the menu beforehand.
"Any favorites?" You queried from over the rim of your menu.
Sunwoo was slinging his shoulder bag over his head as you asked this. "Oh, uh, I've been hooked on their shrimp banh xeo ever since my friend Haknyeon introduced me to it. It's like a Vietnamese crepe with stir fried vegetables and a protein. But I think in general, everything is pretty good here."
You hummed. "Mmh, sounds good. And you said the lime soda is really good, too?"
He nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, for sure. That stuff is addicting."
You took his word for it, and soon, the two of you had finished ordering your lunch for the day. A part of you wished you didn't have to disturb the pleasantness of this one-on-one lunch date (was this a date?) with Sunwoo by bringing up the podcast, but what if by clearing the air, it would make your relationship stronger? (Or, it could end in a fiery, hot pile of shit!)
Either way, you would try to get to it as organically as possible.
"So I wanted to talk to you about something." Yes, because this is totally organic, Yn… You grabbed your cup of lime soda and played absentmindedly with the straw.
You gauged his reaction carefully. He perked up. "You—you wanted to talk to me about something?" He parroted, pointing his finger back at himself. "That's not usually good."
"Sorry, no, it's not bad!" You promised. On the way here, you had come up with about a dozen ways to go about this, but at the end of the day, there would only be a yes or no answer. "Do you, by chance, happen to listen to podcasts?"
There was that flicker of recognition over his face, and for a second, he reminded you of something like a puppy with how wide his eyes were. "Uhh," he drawled, scratching his head and feigning nonchalance, "I mean, sometimes. Like casually."
"This might sound weird—"
"Uh-huh."
"—but are you Rhapsody Anonymous?"
If sweat could be animated, that was what you imagined to be dripping down the side of Sunwoo’s face at this moment. He seemed to be figuring out a way to reply. “Would you believe me if I asked you what a Rhapsody Anonymous is?”
“No, not really.”
“What’s a podcast?”
You huffed. “Sunwoo—”
“Okay,” he relented, slumping over slightly. He seemed nervous, in a way, eyes looking anywhere but you, twirling his straw between his thumb and index finger, his foot tapping furiously against the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t really want to bring up the podcast to you because I thought that you enjoyed the anonymity, y’know?” He told you with an apologetic wince. “And I really liked listening to the show, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to interact with you anonymously, as well, and over time, I thought we’d kinda become friends.”
He peered up at you nervously, and guilt wormed its way into the trenches of your gut. From what it seemed, he must have really thought that you would react negatively to him knowing your podcast-hosting side show.
“We are friends,” you finally said and scooped a lock of hair out of your face. “I’m not like, mad, or anything; it was more of me trying to figure out why you felt so familiar to me. And I’m really honored that you liked my podcast enough to want to interact with me there. It means a lot.”
With your small smile, Sunwoo’s posture flooded with relief. “So you’re not mad that I figured out your identity?”
“Definitely not,” you shook your head. “If anything, I’m relieved. I’ve been wondering about your identity for a while now.”
The corners of Sunwoo’s mouth lifted. “That’s… that’s cool. This is really cool,” he said. He let out a sigh, leaning back to slump in his chair with a dramatic expression of anguish on his face. “You have no idea how much it’s been eating me up inside, Dovey! Like how do you balance your two identities? It takes so much energy for me to make sure I keep them separate.”
“I can tell; you weren’t exactly the most inconspicuous,” you teased.
He sat up. “What do you—”
“Well, you kind of told me things in person that you’ve told to me on anonymous, and vice versa.” You recalled to him the two main instances that gave him away to you. It was amusing to see the way he grew increasingly more flustered as you kept talking about it, but you realized that this was probably incredibly painful for him to hear.
Sunwoo had his head in his hands by the time you were done. “I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.”
He shifted slightly so that his cheek rested against one palm. “And to think that I was being all slick and secretive,” he pouted, scrunching up his nose. “You know, I always thought about being friends with you in real life. That one time that I told you about that one Taylor Swift song that reminded me of you?”
“Superstar?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” He meditated on that thought while sipping his drink. “It just felt right. Like you were far away but also right there in my ear. Does that make sense?”
You knew what the song was about; you could recite the lyrics by heart, and the fact that he associated that song with you… It sent your heart a-flutter. “It does.”
He jolted up so suddenly you nearly fell out of your seat with him. “Not that I’m desperately in love with you or anything,” he added quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he mentally skimmed through the lyrics again and again. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and you were sure that your neck looked as hot as it felt.
You pretended your heart didn’t drop to the pit of your stomach when he said that. You laughed along with him, though you weren’t sure why it sounded like it did. “Oh, right, right. I didn’t think that; don’t worry.” All the butterflies in your stomach drooped.
Sunwoo scrambled to find the right words. “I just mean that I always felt like some average Joe, and you were…” He gestured to you helplessly, “you.”
Your heart couldn’t help but give a sharp pang at that.
“And how could I ever be anything more to you than just another listener in your stats, y’know?”
You never thought that you would have ever given off that kind of vibe toward listeners, or come to mean that much to any members of your audience. It had seemed simply impossible for you to ever become large enough to evoke that kind of feeling in people—a popstar to their fans. You folded your arms over the table and leaned toward him. “Sunwoo, you were never just another listener. You made yourself known to me and you made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”
He slowly met your eyes, and you sat up straighter, reaching toward the paper straw wrapper to fidget with. “I originally started this podcast because I needed a place to talk. After feeling like people were always moving on without me, I was trying to search for validation, and I found that in podcasting. I figured that maybe… if I was feeling these things, then there had to be someone out there who was feeling them, too.
“And the song recommendation and music talk was always a nice bonus,” you added. “I had people send in anonymous submissions, but never as frequently as you did, and it made me feel like I was reaching somebody. Not just a random hit every so often, but somebody.”
Sunwoo’s eyes shone in the artificial lighting inside the restaurant, and outside your little bubble, you barely registered the noises around you. It was just you and Sunwoo in this moment in time and space. He swallowed. “You’re really cool, you know that?”
You grabbed your cup of lime soda and softly knocked it against his. “That’s all you, superstar.”
— ✶
Lunch had progressed much smoother after you had confronted Sunwoo, to say the least. You were convinced, however, that you had to meet this Haknyeon character he kept telling you about. He was the one to recommend the Vietnamese restaurant, and he was going to be your new favorite person. (Sorry, Sunwoo.)
When both you and Sunwoo had finished up with lunch, you didn’t want to cut your time with him short and asked him if he’d ever been up to the Farmer’s Market north of the Ave.
“There’s a Farmer’s Market over there?” His mouth gaped as he let you lead him a couple blocks north.
You grinned, tipping your head up to the sky to soak in the last bits of sunlight before it was about to be blanketed over by gray clouds. “Yeah! It’s really neat. They’ve got one going every week, I think.”
The walk up was an easy one as it was a straight shot from the restaurant to the intersection where white picket fences were set up to barricade the street for vendors to set up in. Pop-up tents of different colors and sizes lined either side of the street as people milled about going from vendor to vendor. This had been one of the few gems you’d found when you transferred here, and though you didn’t often visit, you tried to buy at least a couple things to support the local businesses. The fruit here tasted much better than the ones in-stores, anyway.
You and Sunwoo slipped past the fences and into the throng of people, and you watched his face light up in awe as he took in the sights and smells. There were people selling beaded bracelets and art, farmers tossing blueberries into kids’ mouths… it was a lively slice of community here.
“Wow, this is incredible,” he said, but suddenly stopped short. “Oh my god, they’re selling melon pops, Yn-ie!” He pointed out a stand a little further down the way that he had peered over a few heads for. He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. “Come on! I’ll treat you to one.”
It wasn’t like you were going to refuse him.
Within another few minutes, you and Sunwoo had both acquired one melon popsicle each. It was adorable to see him bouncing along on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas morning as he lapped up the light green juice dripping down the side of the frozen treat.
“—look how pretty those sunflowers are!” He gasped at one of the stands to your left selling bundles of different flowers.
An idea popped into your head, and you scurried over to the booth and traded a two dollar bill for one of the baby sunflowers. You whirled around to where Sunwoo stood and waited for you. “Stand still,” you said while reaching up to tuck the flower behind his ear.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, you pulled out your phone and snapped a quick picture of him.
Sunwoo’s eyes had gone wide, his cheekbones the same color as the roses in the bundles behind you. “What… just happened,” he asked, blinking, then came over to poke your shoulder to get your attention. He peered over at your phone screen to see that you were setting the photo you took as his new contact photo. He let out a hum, “Wow.”
“It’s cute.” You let him see the picture.
He narrowed his eyes at the screen before finally giving it a nod of approval. “Okay, good enough.”
You scoffed, lightly hitting his arm with the back of your hand. “Good enough? I think it’s perfect.” You finished off the rest of your melon pop and tossed the stick in a nearby trash bin.
(If you’d looked up from your phone at that moment, you would have seen the utter bliss on Sunwoo’s face after hearing you compliment a picture of him and calling it “perfect.” To him, absolutely nothing could ruin this day, this moment, this year for him—!)
One raindrop fell onto your phone screen, followed by another, and another, and ano--
(He should not have spoken so soon.)
“It’s raining,” you observed dumbly, reaching a palm out to feel the pitter-patter of the sky’s tears on your skin. Others around you were beginning to notice, too, either huddling under their nearest tent or the overhangs of establishments lined on the sidewalk.
You figured somebody must have pissed the weather off because the rain only began to drum harder against the world.
"Well, shit," you laughed and patted Sunwoo on the back of his shoulder to move him toward the side of the road. "Let's find shelter!"
The two of you joined the crowd as you scrambled past the tents and up onto the sidewalks. Some people simply went into the shops themselves, but you and Sunwoo took a moment to stare out at the once-clear sky. Strange how springtime weather worked.
Sunwoo finished off his popsicle and found a trash bin to toss the stick into. He ran a hand through his dampened locks, then dragged that same palm down his face. "D'you like a little rain, dove?"
The nickname caught you off-guard for a second, but not as badly as seeing the soft-cornered smile on his face.
You cleared your throat. "I don't mind it. How about you?"
He made a frown at the sky as if he could reprimand nature for crashing the date—wait, this wasn't a date, was it? "It would have been nice if the weather report was accurate for once, but a little walk in the rain never hurt anybody."
You voiced your agreement. The next course of action you both decided on was making the long trek home in the rain together. You tried to stay out of the shower as best as you could, but there definitely weren't enough overhangs to get you home completely dry.
At one of the intersections, Sunwoo looked over at you through his dripping wet bangs. "You don't have a jacket."
On instinct, you glanced down at your bare arms, only clad in a T-shirt. "Oh, I guess I don't," you mused.
"Here—" he shouldered off the black bomber jacket and draped it over your shoulders.
"Sunwoo, I can't—"
"Yes, you can," he laughed and shook his head out. The light turned green to cross, and he wrapped an arm around you to keep you steady along the rain-slicked street.
The jacket and arm around you were both warm, but you had a feeling that even without the jacket, his arm would have been more than enough.
When you'd made it to your apartment complex and bursted into the front lobby, you and Sunwoo practically stood in your own self-made puddles. You took the jacket off from around your shoulders and shook it out; it was a shoddy attempt to get the water out, but at least the material was semi-waterproof on the outside.
"Here you…" Your throat went dry as you made to hand his jacket back to him and zeroed in on the way his wet, white T-shirt stuck flush against his skin. There was no other way to describe it but as see through, and there was no way in hell you were going to be able to erase that defined stomach from your mind. "...Go."
You coughed as you looked away, and he accepted his jacket back with a low "Thanks."
When he zipped his jacket up, you nodded toward the elevator. "Do you wanna come up and dry off before you go out? You can totally borrow my umbrella if you want, too."
He shook his head. "No, it's okay. My apartment's not far, I swear."
"Ah, alright. Get home safe then." You paused, then added, "Text me once you get back?"
Sunwoo flashed you a smile, and man, if you could engrave that smile, the wet hair, into your brain… "Promise. I'll see you soon, superstar."
He reached over and ruffled your hair, then ducked out of your apartment into the rain. Just before he was out of your sight, he turned back and waved at you through the front windows.
You let out an exhale once he had disappeared. A fuzzy feeling lingered in your chest, your smile never leaving your face. You were so far gone.
EPISODE EIGHT: SWERVE LIKE A CHICKEN
ALTHOUGH Spring Break had swept through the university faster than it came, Sunwoo could still say he felt like he was riding on Cloud 9. The beginning of the quarter was easily a more relaxed part of the term, but Spring quarter itself was a whole other nightmare in itself. Everyone around him was beginning to wake up from their break-dazed slumbers to clamber their asses back into uncomfortable lecture chairs and study rooms.
It was the first Tuesday back from Spring Break when he found out you were going to be in a practice room alone for a while, working on a new project. This intel had been courtesy of one Han Jisung, who had been texting Sunwoo off and on about a track he had been mixing with Chan.
han !!: yeah just left cuz my brain was feelin super fried 🤣 dunno how ynies still there
sunwoo's phone: oh fr?? she's still over there?
han !!: yuh bro that's what i just said
han !!: r u gonna do anything abt it 👀😳
sunwoo's phone: i have no clue what ur talking abt
han !!: okay bye chicken
sunwoo's phone: u did not just call me chicken.
han !!: 🐓🐓🐓
Sunwoo walked out of his room and stood in the middle of the apartment, staring blankly at the back of Eric's head. His roommate was seated on the couch setting up a movie, and when he sensed someone was staring at him, he began to say, "Baby!—wait a minute."
Eric made a face. "Never mind, it's just you."
Sunwoo scoffed and flopped onto the opposite end of the couch. "Rude! Before EC!Yn, I used to be your one and only."
"That's actually so incorrect—"
"Do you boys ever not cat-fight?" EC!Yn mused as she came out from the bathroom and found a seat between Eric and Sunwoo. Eric instantly curled an arm around her and pulled her into his side.
Sunwoo considered this with a frown. Why was he so single? "You're lucky I tolerate your boyfriend, EC!Yn," said Sunwoo as he folded his arms over his chest and sunk into the shadows of his hoodie.
"I'm glad you've come to like me more than your own best friend," she drawled in jest. "What's got you in the dumps, my friend?"
Eric perked up, pressing the play button on the TV remote to start the movie. "Oh yeah! You were in such a good mood this morning."
A grumble from the lump of hoodie. "It's nothing."
A moment of silence passed. Then, "He misses Yn."
"I think so, too."
"Do you think if we texted her to text him, he would at least smile?"
"Oh, I think I found her Instagram the other day—"
Sunwoo peered out of his hoodie with narrowed eyes. "I can hear you guys, you know that, right?"
Both Eric and his partner shot him impish grins, delighted that their very obvious conversation brought him out of silence. The thought forced a smile onto Sunwoo's face anyway. Eric's baseball game had been canceled today because the team who they were going up against this week had internal problems (something about an affair between coaches and players—it was complicated). Thus, Eric had decided to fill his afternoon with an impromptu movie session with his girlfriend. Sunwoo was invited by roommate obligation.
There were definitely more productive things that Sunwoo could have been doing (finding a minor, finding a job, finding the answers to his cognitive psych homework, etcetera), but watching… Wait, what were they even watching?
EC!Yn reached over and nudged his shoulder with her knuckles. "Hey, Earth to Kim Sunwoo."
He shook out of his daze. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He sighed, pulling out his phone. "Jisung just told me that Yn's at the practice room working still."
"Still?"
"Yeah," he bobbed his head. "They've been there ever since they finished their composition class this morning."
Eric lowered the volume on the TV. "Dude, you should go keep her company."
Sunwoo's eyes shot open as he began mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. "I don’t wanna bother her; she probably doesn’t wanna be bothered if she’s been working for so long.” The thought had crossed his mind to head over to the practice rooms right now and sit in for a session, but he had shut his own idea down almost immediately. Would you appreciate him going to bug you or would you mind him just going to sit with you and enjoy your presence?
“I was thinking the exact opposite,” said EC!Yn, “I mean, whenever Eric comes over unannounced to come sit with me at the dorm, I appreciate it all the time.”
Eric cooed. “Aw, you do?”
Sunwoo blinked and was suddenly glad he was staring down at his phone and not the couple on the couch next to him. But he glanced up to catch EC!Yn’s eyes. “Do you really think she wouldn’t mind?”
When Eric tucked his face into her neck, she idly scratched his head. “Oh, definitely. I think it’ll be a nice surprise, considering she probably feels the same about you, based on what you’ve already told us.”
“You’re right!” Sunwoo shot up off the couch, but halted. “Wait, she what?”
Eric snorted. “She said that Yn probably feels the same about you, which, if I’m being honest, I can’t believe—”
Sunwoo dashed into his room to grab his wallet and keys. “Nobody asked you!”
— ✶
Coffee. You liked coffee, right?
Sunwoo couldn't quite think straight with the giddy anticipation bubbling in his stomach and up his chest as he balanced twin cups of iced americano in his hands. Taking the bus to the School of Music would have been less effort on his legs, but waiting for it simply did not sit with the amount of energy currently carrying him down the street and up the stairs and across the quad like a madman.
People were probably eyeing him weirdly, but he was trying to come up with things to say to you. Preferably, these things were smooth and not strange fragments that weren't properly strung together. He wanted to look put together, to sound put together.
He was probably going to look frazzled, though, from half-running a mile uphill, but that was okay—he was excited to see you.
The School of Music stood right across from the School of Art building, the twin towers looming above the quad stairs. With school back in session, there were plenty of people milling about the entrance, and somebody graciously opened the door for Sunwoo so he didn't have to awkwardly balance his coffees and risk spilling them to get inside. He hadn't often visited this building, but he had been in here before to visit friends and upperclassmen. Though the architecture was grander, it still had the homey feeling of a high school band room, some place music students could call home.
Sunwoo navigated himself toward the practice rooms in the back hallways, murmuring "excuse me"s and apologies as he sidestepped string bassists and bassoons and snare drums. (He could've sworn there was a whole drum kit in one of these; it was strange seeing someone carrying around a single snare… huh.)
He reached the corridor to turn right into the practice hall when he froze, diving back behind the wall.
"—wait, Yangyang—"
Something in him sunk deep into the pit of his stomach, an anchor to the sea floor. He watched you launch out of your practice room and into Yangyang's arms, both of you hugging each other closely. He had his arms wrapped around you and his cheek against the crown of your head.
Sunwoo couldn't hear what you were saying to each other—if you were saying anything at all.
And you didn't let go. Not yet, at least.
When you did finally let go, the two of you were beaming at each other. It was near impossible to make out what kind of emotion was there from so far away, but Sunwoo couldn't look anymore when Yangyang leaned in towards you—
Sunwoo pressed himself against the wall he was peering around.
Oh.
He struggled to swallow; there was a large lump sitting in his throat that he had to wrestle down.
Disappointment—yeah, that was disappointment.
Before you or Yangyang could come down this way, Sunwoo retraced his steps from where he came until he was back outside. He sucked in a breath, mind abuzz.
He set down the cups of iced coffee, now perspiring, on a ledge nearby, so he could pull out his phone.
It rang twice. "Yo."
"Are you practicing right now?" Sunwoo asked, leaning his body against the railing. His free hand held his face as his brain replayed the events he had just witnessed. Did that mean what he thought he meant? You were totally allowed to see other people—the two of you weren't exclusive—but goddamn, did that hurt to think about.
Was he too late? Had he chickened out so long that you decided to move on, or was he never in the running in the first place?
He heard a bit of shuffling from the other side, then a sigh from Changmin. "Now I'm not. What's up?"
"I'm coming over."
A pause. "...Okay, see you soon."
EPISODE NINE: [YELLS.]
THERE was something different in the air and you could taste it. Not literally, of course, but you figured your paranoia had manifested strong enough within you to be able to sniff these kinds of things out. "These things" referred to the slight difference in the way you interacted with Sunwoo, or rather, how Sunwoo interacted with you.
You turned your phone off again, having checked it for what felt like the fifth time in the past two minutes. Usually, he replied relatively fast, but for the past week or so, he'd been a little more delayed. He didn't text dry, which was a relief, but there was something off about it. You couldn't articulate it too well—it was just a gut feeling.
"Oy, phone away, Yn," Sieun ordered, snapping her fingers and holding her hand out across the table.
You sent her a look, but reluctantly handed your phone over to her. "But—"
"No buts!" She tutted. She hid your phone within the confines of her purse before promptly returning to the warm bowl of biang biang noodles in front of her. "The more you check your phone, the sadder of a sap you look."
"Thanks," you deadpanned, but followed her lead and picked up your chopsticks to eat your food.
The two of you were seated in, arguably, the best Chinese restaurant on the Avenue. It had become a fast favorite of yours when you first transferred, saved for the long days and weeks when you needed something like spice to make you feel anything other than sad. Sieun had suggested coming down here for dinner rather than staying in and eating another round of instant ramen. It was something she knew would cheer you up easily, and so far, it was only half working.
You reached for your water, only to realize it was practically empty.
As if she could read your mind, the waitress taking care of your table appeared at your side and filled your water up for you.
"Oh, thank you!" Your eyes glanced over at her name tag—HN!Yn—and met her kind eyes.
"Of course. Anything else I can get you two?" She asked cheerily, swiftly filling up Sieun's cup, as well, with practiced grace. "Food's good?"
Both you and Sieun nodded your heads vigorously, especially since both of your mouths were now full and you couldn't speak. She seemed to get the idea and hustled over to a nearby table to tend to them. How waiters and waitresses always knew when you had food in your mouth, you could never figure out. It was always absolutely awful timing, but you supposed the skill was akin to Starbucks workers butchering name spellings.
When you finally swallowed your bite, you chased it with a gulp of water. "I don't think I did anything wrong," you said to your friend, pushing around the saucy rice in your bowl with the tips of your chopsticks.
Sieun covered her mouth. "I don't think so either," she replied, eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe he's just busy? It could be that he got a job or something, or school work is piling up."
You frowned. You thought he would have let you know he was going to be a bit busier, but at the same time, he didn't owe you anything. You just worried about him and hoped he wasn't overworking himself. It didn't help that you missed hanging out with him; it didn't feel like it used to between you just last week.
From behind you, you heard the door to the restaurant open and close with a loud smack! The door to the restaurant was awfully loud when it closed, unless it was carefully done. Something about the angle at which it was constructed, or something like that.
Sieun's brows flew up. "Speak of the devil," she muttered with her food pushed into her cheek.
"Hm?" You hummed and twisted around in your seat to see who she was referring to.
Oh. Well, she definitely wasn't wrong, per se.
Coming in through the door himself was Kim Sunwoo, as well as a few of his own friends, you guessed. You recognized one of them as Ji Changmin, one of the dancers from the winter showcase. Besides those two, there were four others, too—three other boys and a girl. You didn't recognize any of them, but you saw the way your waitress greeted them and squeezed one of the boys' hands.
You and Sunwoo made eye contact, and you shot him a small smile, lifting your fingers in a wave.
He seemed surprised to see you, and you didn't fault him for that. His wave was slight and smile shy, but you couldn't figure out why he ducked his head and didn't come by and say hi.
They're being seated for dinner, Yn. It's okay. Chill a little.
You turned back in your seat to face Sieun and your food again.
"Hey, cheer up, girl." Sieun's smile was sympathetic as she caught your attention. You hadn't even noticed how your posture noticeably slumped after that interaction—if one could even call it that. "Don't let this ruin your dinner, okay?"
You sighed out of your nose, testing your chopsticks over the rim of your bowl. "You're right. I don't know, Eun. It feels like we regressed? Is he avoiding me? Am I overthinking this?"
"I'm not sure, hon," she told you. "It'll be okay, though. I promise. Are you ready for the check?"
You nodded, reaching for your napkin to wipe your mouth.
Sieun lifted her hand and caught your waitress's attention, then made a motion for the bill. HN!Yn was quick to bring it over and set the little black tray with the receipt onto the edge of your table. In her hands she held a small device to input your method of payment.
"Are we splitting the bill today, ladies?" She asked you, eyes flickering between you both.
"Yeah, evenly split would be great, please," you told her.
Sieun leaned over to peer at the receipt as you reached into your bag to grab your card. Her face contorted into confusion, and she ran her finger over a line as if reading over it again carefully. "Oh, uhm, excuse me. It says we get a discount—not that I'm complaining! But…"
HN!Yn smiled. "Ah, you're friends with Sunwoo, right? That's what he told me, at least. I always give my partner and his friends my Friends & Family discount, so don't worry about it. I appreciate your integrity though."
You and Sieun exchanged wide-eyed glances, blinking, then turned to peer over at where Sunwoo's friend group sat. One of the boys sitting next to him whacked his arm to get his attention, nodding toward your table.
Sunwoo looked up.
Your head tilted to the side and you mouthed a "thank you?" to him, unsure of why he went out of his way to help you out.
He only nodded before ducking his head again. Huh. You'd have to thank him properly later.
HN!Yn was quick to help you and Sieun box your meals and finish paying. Before long, you tucked your arm around Sieun's to push out into the cool evening—not without glancing back at Sunwoo's table first.
— ✶
"She looks sad. Why is she sad?" Sunwoo sulked, lying atop his folded arms on the table and staring at you through the space between Haknyeon and JC!Yn.
You were the last person he thought he'd see when he and his friends walked into Haknyeon's favorite Chinese restaurant. You and your friend were pretty much wrapping up dinner when they'd come in, and he was quite literally startled by your presence. He'd been walking around on eggshells, he felt, all because of this stupid situation he'd forced himself into.
It was stupid. Yeah… it was stupid.
Changmin delivered a light whack to the back of Sunwoo's head. "You're dumb."
Sunwoo sat up and cupped the back of his head, leveling a glare at his friend. "Hello?"
"He's not exactly wrong," said Chanhee from the other side of him as he texted someone on his phone.
Sunwoo pressed his lips together and looked across the table from him at JC!Yn in a silent cry for help. The woman could only lift her shoulders half-heartedly. That meant that she agreed with them… great.
Eric snapped his wooden chopsticks apart and began using either stick to smooth the other for splinters. "We're saying you're dumb because you're doing this to yourself and to her unnecessarily."
Sunwoo huffed. "That's because you guys weren't there to see it happen! They're totally together—or at least, close." It still felt awful to think about. It felt like there was a hole in his chest left empty after considering the possibility that he was too late. He didn't want to get hurt.
"You can still talk to her like you used to, Sunwoo-ah," Haknyeon chimed in. "Even if they were—and I'm not saying they are—together, there's still a healthy amount of space where you can dwell as her friend."
HN!Yn appeared at the head of the table with a tray of water, and everyone pitched in to pass the cups down. "Thanks, guys," she said, tucking the tray under her arm. "Are you guys ready to order?" The question was directed towards the rest of the table, but Sunwoo saw the way her eyes lingered on Haknyeon and how Haknyeon's smile shifted to something that Sunwoo was sure was only for her.
It made him feel strange again.
The group, as usual, trusted Haknyeon's choices in dishes and let him take the reins in deciding what they ate tonight. Once HN!Yn had headed off into the kitchen to deliver their order, conversation resumed swiftly.
"I think you're just scared, Sunwoo," JC!Yn said to him over the rim of her glass of water.
Murmurs of agreement resounded from all around the table. Sunwoo's jaw fell open. "I—I am not scared. What would I be scared of?"
"The truth! Oooh," Eric pursed his lips and wiggled his fingers in Sunwoo's direction.
Sunwoo promptly smacked Eric's hand away.
"If you weren't scared of the truth," said Haknyeon, as he propped his elbows onto the table, "you would have gone up to her in that hallway."
"Didn't she tell you that she didn't see Yangyang that way anyways?" Chanhee chimed in. He was still going at it texting whoever it was on his phone.
"But she also said she wanted to give it a second chance," Sunwoo corrected.
Changmin scratched behind his ear and grabbed sauce trays from the end of the table to pass down to everyone else. "That was before she started hanging out with you some more. What is your point?"
They all made excellent points, he thought. That afternoon he'd seen you and Yangyang, he'd gone to meet Changmin in one of the dance practice rooms. After that, he'd gone home to yell into his pillow until his throat burned. Eric had muttered something about Sunwoo being dramatic and summoned JC!Yn over to the apartment to deal with him.
Sunwoo had just been bummed. He didn't even know if bummed was a strong enough word.
"I'm just scared of getting hurt, I guess," he finally admitted, meekly.
The table quieted to allow him room to speak his mind, and even Chanhee put his phone away to give him his full attention now. It wasn't often Sunwoo wore his heart on his sleeve like this, and it wasn't easy either. For anyone. Admitting to his fears in the middle of a Chinese restaurant while five of one's friends listened in was intimidating, but it was comforting to know that these friends he kept would find a way to support him. Even if he was being stupid, their tough love was out of desire to look out for him.
When he was done, Changmin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder and his dimple pressed into his cheek. "Sunwoo-yah, I think that you second guess yourself too much and you know that. You're self aware enough to know that you make the mistake of not going for what or who you want."
Sunwoo stared at an impurity in the table. What Changmin was saying hit the nail on the head—it was what happened with the dance showcase, too, and now he was about to let it ruin a friendship he had with a person he cared very much about.
"My advice," Changmin continued, "is to talk to her about what you saw and clarify it. I know it's… I know it's scary thinking you're gonna get hurt again, but I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."
EPISODE TEN: SUPERSTAR, I'M NOT TOO FAR
your phone: hey thanks for the fnf discount last night! sorry i didn't thank u properly before, but yeah, really appreciate it :')
sunshine (sunwoo): it was no problem, dw abt it!
your phone: btw is everything okay? u seem a bit distant lately and i wanted to make sure u were doing alright
sunshine (sunwoo): ah yeah, im sorry :( there's just been some things on my mind
You shot Sunwoo a quick text back to let him know you were here if he wanted anyone to talk to. His text had just come in after you'd sent him a reply in the early evening.
"Yn-ah. Still on your phone, I see?"
You jolted and shoved your device into the pocket of your jeans, smiling sheepishly as Lee Jihoon power-walked into the backstage area with a pen behind his ear and a clipboard in hand. "Hi, Jihoon!" You squeaked.
He lifted his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to come follow him. Since everyone was back from Spring Break, the work for the play being performed was kicked into high gear. Jihoon was a graduate student at the university and a director of the stage here; adding the fact that he majored in the same thing you did also made him one of your favorite mentors ever. The back hallways were bustling with costumes, props and other assorted technicians while most of the actors were either in the main backstage area or onstage proper with the play director, HJ!Yn.
You followed swiftly after him and weaved through the people littered about the corridors. "I finished synching the panel back here with the projector in the box," you told him, "though, it's weird that it was ever undone in the first place." You frowned. There had been a lot of strange things happening in the theater lately.
Jihoon gave you a curt nod and set you up in front of one of the house lights panels located in the hallway leading right out to the audience. He pointed at it with the back of his pen. "Yeah, some funky shit's been happening around here," he sighed. "You were here the other night when the speakers were acting weird, right?"
You nodded and let him guide you through navigating this backup panel. "I was. You and Chan seemed really stressed."
"We were," he said, adjusting his cap. "We really do need some more funding to update our equipment—careful, that knob is really sensitive. Good, nice work."
Once you and Jihoon had successfully finished with this panel, you lingered in the hallway for a moment. Normally, you would switch back and forth between shadowing either Chan or Jihoon, and tonight was with the latter. He was going through a couple forms on his clipboard—he must have been reading through them while working tonight.
"You seem distracted tonight, Yn-ie," he said. "Is everything okay?"
Despite being one of the busiest and hardest workers here, Jihoon was also one of the most observant, still. You leaned against the wall next to him, toeing at the floor. "Boys are stupid, right?"
Without hesitation or looking up from his clipboard, he replied, "As a boy, I can confirm."
That made you sputter out a laugh, and you saw him glance up and flash you a smile. When you couldn't find something else to say, he went forth. "I don't know the whole situation, and you don't have to tell me anything. But we guys are a little—" he made a gesture with his hands and wrinkled his nose, "—blind. You probably know that already, but dudes are dumbasses, and sometimes when feelings get in the way, they want to run for the hills.
"But if you think he's worth it, then reach out and be forward with him. And if he cares about you, he'll reach out and be honest," he finished. He let you settle with that thought, let it marinate in your brain to give you something to think about. (As if you didn't have a lot to think about already.)
You pressed your lips together with a slow nod. "Thanks Jihoon."
"Anytime, Yn-ie." He nodded back toward the direction you both had come from. "Let's go back that way, yeah? We've got some more housekeeping to take care of."
— ✶
Sunwoo was in trouble.
"...I thought I'd recommend a song that's been on my mind. I've actually been listening to quite a few Taylor Swift songs recently, especially since she's re-recording all her albums! So here's 'Superstar' from Fearless, Taylor's Version."
He had put your most recent podcast episode on full volume while he made himself dinner. It had been a long day today, and so his automatic thought was to listen to you. But now that he was getting into the meat of the episode, he was quickly coming to realize how much trouble he was in. You were playing the song, and it was a direct call out to him to wake the fuck up.
As the song faded to a close, your voice came back on.
"Actually, I was recommended the song by someone I know," you said in the mellow tone you'd been in for the entire episode so far. "I guess I'm just confused and I was wondering if they really meant what they said."
Sunwoo nearly dropped the egg in his hand onto the kitchen floor. Guilt swirled around in the bubbles of the soup in the pot and he frowned down at the rich, creamy liquid.
He sighed, tapping the egg against the counter and cracking its innards into the pot. "Of course, I really meant it," he said as if you could hear him. He wished he had the guts to tell you everything that was going on in his head… As his soup boiled away, he leaned against the empty counter to wait, cradling his head in his hands, groaning. "You're being unfair, Sunwoo."
"...This one's from Peony! They say: almost didn't realize Rhaps Anon wasn't in the last episode until the very end when we hadn't gotten a rec from them. Hope they're doing okay!" Ah, so you weren't the only one who noticed his brief absence. Your sigh filled the apartment, though, he heard the way you tried to force some kind of cheeriness into it. "Yeah, I hope they're doing okay too. But Rhaps'll be back! Let's all wish them well. Fighting!—"
Oh, man. Now he felt even worse.
He really needed to talk to you. Oh god, he really needed to talk to you. If not to confess, then to clear the air and assure you that all was okay on his end. He was just being a coward, and he knew that well enough now.
When his dinner had finished, Sunwoo turned the flame off and headed for his phone on the opposite counter. He lowered the volume as he went in and pulled up his text thread with you.
sunwoo's phone: hey,, i know ur probs busy w the play this week, but is there a possibility for me to see you sometime soon? i wanted to talk to u abt something
He gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited your answer, until he realized you were probably working. That made him drop his phone and return to his dinner—maybe he just needed to not look, so his anxiety wasn't so high—
His phone buzzed and he bolted back over.
superstar 💫: i think i'll prob have some time saturday morning
EPISODE ELEVEN: [SOMEONE'S LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, LOSERS.]
YOU asked Sunwoo if he'd like to tag along with you as you did some grocery shopping before rehearsal on Saturday morning. His answer had been automatic, and you both agreed to meet each other at the bus stop to ride down to the larger supermarket down the hill together. Even as you stood at the corner of your street waiting for him beneath the overhang, you were trying to come up with possible things he was going to say to you. You had figured, when he’d texted you Wednesday night, that perhaps the best way to go about this would be to make this casual. Hence, why you were forcing yourself to go grocery shopping a day earlier than you usually did.
Casual, in this case, called for “you don’t have stare me in the eyes the entire time,” and to be frank, you were a little too nervous for that kind of setting anyway.
You tugged the edges of your cardigan over you as you heard your name being called from the opposing street. Sunwoo was bounding his way over to you with his arm raised in greeting. You returned the gesture with a soft smile. “Hey.”
He stopped by you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray jacket. “Hi,” he said, licking his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”
The bus slowed to a halt in front of your stop, and the two of you retrieved your transportation cards to board. “You say that like I wouldn’t have agreed,” you chuckled and tapped your card, Sunwoo following suit.
The two of you managed to find a pair of empty seats near the second half of the vehicle where the exit was for an easy departure when you reached the foot of the hill. But for now, you tucked your bag onto your lap and settled into the window seat, while Sunwoo occupied the one next to you.
You turned your head to gaze out the window and watch the world blur by as you did. The Avenue streets were a tad narrower than most around the university, so the bus traveled as efficiently as it could from stop to stop before turning the block to make its descent. It was technically still morning, and though it was spring, the sky had decided to blanket the sunshine with gray clouds to form an atmosphere that reminded you distinctly of the past winter quarter. Except, instead of thin, empty branches, the streets and walkways were encased in darkening green leaves and falling pink petals, a nod to the short-lived cherry blossom season. From the corner of your eye, you saw Sunwoo’s foot start to tap against the ground like Thumper the Rabbit, and you wondered for the millionth time what was going on in that pretty head of his.
“I don’t really understand,” you found yourself saying—his head swiveled—and you turned to look at him, “did I do something wrong?”
Sunwoo stammered, "What? No, it wasn't you! It wasn't your fault at all—I was just—" he sighed, grimacing to himself. "I was just being stupid. And I know that sounds super vague, but the short answer is that I was being stupid and scared and insecure."
Your brows furrowed and you felt the bus come to a gentle stop at the foot of the hill. "Scared and insecure? What's going on; is everything okay?"
You both got up to make a quick exit off the bus and began making the short walk from the bus station into the outdoor shopping center.
There was a jittery bounce to Sunwoo's steps as well as a tension in his shoulders. "Last week," he began, "Jisung told me that he'd just left you at the practice room and that you were probably going to be there awhile."
You nodded, grabbing a basket at the front of the grocery store. That rang a bell for sure. It had been a very long day in the practice room, so you weren't quite sure what direction this was going in yet.
"Well, I wanted to go surprise you and come hang out with you. You know, like, to keep you company." He started scouring the opposite shelf to you in the dried foods aisle, his eyes nervously darting from the BUY ONE, GET ONE pasta noodles deal signs, to your person. "And when I got there, I saw you and Yangyang."
Me and Yangyang…? Oh, me and Yangyang.
It was like a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped pretending to look at the overpriced vermicelli noodles on the shelf behind you.
"And you guys were hugging and close and stuff—and by all means! I—I have no problem with that, of course," he added quickly, "I mean, you guys are really close… friends? And I just saw him lean toward you and left because I… I got the message." The latter portion was delivered in a defeated tone as he looked on toward you helplessly and sorrowfully. It was how Sieun described you Tuesday night when you'd seen Sunwoo at the restaurant: a sad sap.
You both stopped moving down the aisle to face each other. In the white, fluorescent supermarket lights, his hair hung in his eyes like his head in embarrassment. You were going to let him finish.
He cupped the back of his head, suddenly feeling so bare before you despite not being physically naked at all. "I thought some space might distinguish or extinguish my feelings for you," he continued, nose wrinkling and lip curling in a wince. "Clearly it didn't help, and I think overall, I realized I wasn't being fair to you—as a friend. And that I was also being the biggest fucking loser ever."
Wait, you were still reeling from the mentions about feelings—
Before you could even address the aforementioned, you had to make something clear first. You felt the corners of your lips lift. "Sunwoo, me and Yangyang really are just friends." At the confused, puppy-dog look in his eyes, you explained further, "That day, Yangyang came by and I made it clear to him that I just saw him as a friend. I felt really awful for feeling like I'd led him on and was going to lose his friendship."
Sunwoo's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and he struggled to come up with the response he wanted. "So… so when he was leaning in toward you…"
"He leaned in and flicked my nose, then almost gave me a nosebleed," you chuckled. You'd given him a very appropriate flick to the forehead after that.
His eyes widened at that. "Well shit. Are you okay?" He asked, and you saw his smile slowly begin to make its appearance, the sun peeking through an overcast sky.
"Yeah, perfectly fine," you dismissed with a flick of your hand. "Especially now. But yeah, we're just friends."
There was a surge of relief in his tense shoulders. "Oh, okay."
He trailed after you as you continued to make your way down this aisle in particular to pick up the things that were on your shopping list.
At one point, he coughed, handing you the jar of red peppers you were reaching for. "So no hard feelings, right? I promise it will be totally back to normal!"
"Normal, as in back to before?"
He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! To be honest, Dovey, I was just kind of scared that I had lost my chance after waiting so long. I don't know. And I realized that I was just scared to face that fact."
You gauged his reaction and your own heart thundered in your chest. "Scared to face the fact that you'd lost your chance with me?"
"Well, yeah. I—" He stopped and froze like a deer in headlights. And in any other circumstance, you would have been laughing, but he seemed so distraught by what he just admitted to that you tried hard to suppress your amusement. Tried. "I just said that aloud, huh."
Nodding, you grinned fondly. "You did."
He smiled, cute and flustered, cheeks tinted pink. "You're always too easy a person to talk to," he muttered.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"I would've said something sooner…" He began.
Something jumped to attention in your brain. Oh no. "Was I giving you mixed signals?" You pursed your lips like you'd just gotten into something sour. "'Cause I swore I thought my attraction to you was clear. And, like, the thing where I totally began rethinking my thoughts about Yangyang when you came into the picture—"
"Wow, so Changmin was right?" Sunwoo made a face, holding his hand against his forehead. "That's crazy."
"Crazy good or…?"
He chuckled, and you couldn't help but admire the twinkle in his eyes as he did. "Crazy so good."
"I don't think people actually say that."
He whined, "Yah, you can't already be clowning me. Not when I just confessed that I like you."
That made you sober up, but you couldn't say the same for your heart rate. Man, your BPM alone could probably power a bullet train… "I like you, too. I hope that's clear."
There you two stood in the middle of the dried foods aisle with twin smiles glowing on your faces, soft and shared. You didn't know what the BOGO pasta was doing, but it was definitely adding to the atmosphere. You had intended for running errands to distract you from whatever Sunwoo had wanted to talk to you about, but clearly that was not the case—it would have never worked like that. You would be damned to have missed something like this. Not with him.
Perhaps he had made a mistake—he was now apologizing and clarifying and trying. You could hear Jihoon's words of wisdom ring loud and clear in your head. There was something perfectly fine about how this turned out.
"No more mixed signals?"
"No more mixed signals," he agreed.
— ✶
The remainder of your errand run with Sunwoo had gone smoothly, and soon, you were both seated side by side once more on the bus up to the University District. Sunwoo had gotten a couple things for his fridge, too, and so you both sat with your grocery bags by each other and your fingers grazing the other. Ever since you had clarified your position with Sunwoo a little over an hour ago, you had been feeling much lighter, your heart skipping for a different reason. You were back to feeling the giddy excitement you always had around him, and especially since you knew he saw you in exactly the same way.
The two of you shared a laugh as you stepped off the bus and onto your block, grocery bags in hand.
“—I’m being completely serious! Apparently I was just snot-nosed wailing into her shirt about being single and forever alone,” Sunwoo guffawed, grinning wide at you as you both stopped to the side of the walkway. “And Eric was pissed, oh my god.”
“I mean, you just kiss-blocked him; kind of understandable,” you mused.
Sunwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aye, I know. He’s a good guy though. Total loser, but a good loser. He made me hangover soup the next day.”
You let out a laugh, walking slowly with him down toward the entrance of your apartment complex. "That was sweet of him."
He snorted, "A little out of character, but yeah."
"You know," you piped up, "when I was applying and eventually interviewing for the position with Chan and Jihoon, I had no idea what either of them looked like. So I accidentally—woah, shi—"
Somebody coming down the sidewalk toward you crashed into your shoulder and sent you careening toward the sidewalk. Sunwoo swore as you let out a squeak—his arm looping around your waist and hauling you against him to steady you.
He lifted his head in the direction of the person with a glower on his face. "Hey! Dude, watch where you're going!"
"Thanks," you said sheepishly.
He turned to fix you with a smile, and you saw the moment he realized the position you were both in: you pressed firmly up against the side of his body, his arm wrapped around you, your faces so close to one another… He released his hold on you, neck burning as he cupped the back of it. "Heh, yeah. It's no problem. People should just really watch where they're going."
You coughed and nodded your head. "Yeah, for sure."
The pair of you were now in front of your apartment complex once more, reluctant to say goodbye. You wondered if he would ask to spend more time with you, but you had a feeling that he wouldn't want to intrude on your time any longer. It wasn't like he was intruding to you, but it was just a feeling you had about him. He wanted to respect your time.
And, well, you both had groceries to put away.
"So I'll uh, talk to you soon then?" You asked him, holding your grocery bags in front of you.
He peered at you through his lashes. "Definitely."
"This morning turned out way better than I thought it would, to be honest."
"Yeah no, same here," he echoed. "I'm just glad you actually gave me another chance."
You reached over and gave his shoulder a playful punch. "How could I not? I've always believed in you."
That seemed to ignite something inside of him. He jutted his bottom lip out and whined, "Oh my god, you can't just say that! You're so—wah."
You giggled, watching him squirm like he was being jolted by electricity. "Hey man, sometimes you've gotta be straightforward."
"Yeah, I know." He sobered slightly and took a step forward. Your heart clambered around in your chest and rattled your ribcage. There was this look in his eyes that made you glance at his lips—his perfect, plush, pink lips.
You held still, held your whole fucking breath, as he turned his head and kissed your cheek. It was feather-light, barely there, and yet, all the heat in your body seemed to rush to that single spot in a millisecond.
When he pulled away, his voice was soft. "How's that for straightforward?"
EPISODE TWELVE: ONE LOVE SONG CAN'T CONVEY HOW I FEEL FOR YOU, SO HERE'S TWENTY—
SUNWOO imagined that he looked as cartoonish as any man in love could. There had to be hearts in eyes, hearts around his head, hearts on a glittery pink trail that carried him everywhere he went. He giggled to himself as he fished his house keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to let himself in.
"Oh my god. We've properly lost him."
With a loud, war-like AHHH!, Sunwoo yelped and nearly dropped his groceries, struggling to hold the bags to his chest as he pressed himself against the back of the front door. His apartment filled with high-pitched cackles of delight.
Though his heart was going through about a million cartwheels a second, he managed to force the fear from his eyes as embarrassment flooded his system. He flared his nostrils, frowning and tipping his head against the door. "I hate you guys!"
"You should hate Eric for giving JC!Yn your apartment key," Changmin wheezed, slapping his hands together and rolling around on the living room carpet as he pointed and laughed at Sunwoo's absolute misery. "You should've seen your face!"
Chanhee was on the couch with his legs curled up into his chest as he had his phone out, recording the entire thing. "This one's going in the drunk Sunwoo folder."
"Yah, I'm not even drunk!"
Chanhee shrugged. "It's become your general meme folder now. We should probably rename it."
Sunwoo whipped his head toward JC!Yn, who was seated on the opposite end of the couch with an amused smile on her face. "Noona! Are you just gonna let them bully me like this?"
Her smile widened. "Sorry, Sunwoo, but we didn't think you would miss us completely when you came in."
He let out a loud groan, fragging himself over to the kitchen so he could set the grocery bags on the counter and begin to unload them. "What're you guys doing here anyways? Isn't it Saturday morning? Where's Kei?" He asked, unloading a carton of juice from the bag and slotting it into the fridge.
Kei was JC!Yn's roommate, and the two girls always went on a grocery shopping date every Saturday morning with Changmin and Chanhee. They often made Changmin drive since he had the biggest car, and grocery shopping was an exclusive event that only the four of them were allowed to partake in. Eric, Sunwoo, and even Jacob had expressed distaste at that elitism. One of these days, they were bound to let someone else join… right?
But regardless, that always meant that Saturday mornings were occupied for them. So why were three-quarters of the group currently invading Sunwoo's apartment?
Changmin sat up from his place on the floor and fixed Sunwoo with a grin that made him nervous. "We dropped her off at their place, and we did go shopping this morning, but you'll never guess the curious thing we witnessed while we were there." His giggles sent a doom-like shiver down Sunwoo's spine.
Then it clicked.
Sunwoo abruptly stopped taking dried noodle packages out of the grocery bag. "You're kidding."
A snort from Chanhee. "Oh, you wish."
Sunwoo bashed his head against his sweater-covered palms. "No."
"Yes!" Changmin shrieked.
"I didn't know you guys went to that supermarket!" Sunwoo wailed, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "You guys saw us?"
JC!Yn rested her chin against her arm as she leaned over the back of the couch to face him. "We heard you, too. I'm glad you decided to own up to your chicken-ness. See? Wasn't so scary after all."
Well, he couldn't exactly agree with that. But he also couldn't disagree with it. He'd been so scared he was about to lose your friendship then for being so insecure for no reason. A simple clarifying question could have saved the both of you so much strife. But the conversation also reaped rewards: your mutual confessions.
He sulked and didn't say anything.
"It was cute though, Sunwoo-ah," said Chanhee with a teasing lilt to his smile.
"And also," Changmin cut in, "what do you mean 'so Changmin was right? That's crazy?!'"
Sunwoo snorted. "Now that, I have nothing to say to."
"So what's the deal now?" JC!Yn asked. "Are you two dating now or…?"
Oh. Another long pause, then— "Oh my god, you didn't ask her out?"
"Hey! Listen!" Sunwoo yelled in an attempt to defend himself.
"We're listening." Chanhee folded his arms over his chest with a less than impressed look on his face. He scoffed. "I can't believe you pull."
"Shut up!"
"He hasn't even asked her out yet—how can he pull?" Changmin quipped back with frenzied gesticulations.
Sunwoo groaned as he flopped over the counter. He couldn't believe he was having such a good morning, and now he was being berated once more for his stupidity. How could he not ask you out? It was right there! The opportunity had presented itself a multitude of times, and yet, why was he still here, dateless?
Then there came the thought of how to go about this. There was a part of him who thought that just asking you was probably fine. But the other part remembered how much he liked you—so texting was simply not an option. It had to have some pizzazz, a bit of oomph, to it.
"We can see the gears turning in your head, Sunwoo," said JC!Yn. "What's on your mind, bub?"
Sunwoo looked up from where he had smattered himself onto the kitchen counter like a pancake. "I have no rizz."
Chanhee coughed. "Well, that's not news."
Sunwoo sent him a scowl. "How should I ask her out? I kind of want it to be special, you know?"
"Hmm." JC!Yn pursed her lips, tapping her chin in thought. "The other day, I was talking to Sangyeon about music or something or other, and he showed me the playlist he'd made his girlfriend—"
"His fake girlfriend," Changmin corrected with a little smirk.
She rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure Lee Sangyeon is not sad enough to make fake playlists for his fake girlfriend." It was a known inside joke amongst the friend group that Sangyeon had a "secret girlfriend" stashed away somewhere. A few of them liked to joke that she either didn't actually exist or that he kept her locked in his laundry machine or something. Mostly, though, they just wanted to know if he actually was single or not. What was the point of keeping her a secret anyway?
The slight change in victim brought Sunwoo's mood up. "What about the playlist, noona?"
She blinked, turning her attention back to her original train of thought. "Oh, right. What if you made her one of those cute, romantic playlists?"
The four of them exchanged glances with one another. It was a silent form of communication, one that had one uniform thought running through the wire.
— ✶
You'd received a text from Sunwoo about thirty minutes ago asking if he could stop by your apartment to drop off something of yours. Apparently, in the madness of the checkout aisle at the grocery store, he had accidentally "stolen" one of your cans of chicken noodle soup.
You hadn't bought chicken noodle soup though.
This was why you now anxiously awaited his arrival for the real reason he wanted to stop by. You had literally just seen him about an hour or two ago, but you'd be lying if you said you were happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Your cheek still seared from his kiss.
As if he could read your thoughts, you heard a loud series of knocks at the door.
"Coming!" You called, hustling over from your living space area and over to the door.
After peeking through the peephole, you definitely saw Sunwoo, but what he was holding was nowhere near the likeness of a can of chicken noodle soup.
In a hurry, you ripped the door open, lips parted at the bundle of bright colored blooms in his hands. Sunflowers and carnations and lilies and roses—
He peered out sheepishly from behind the bouquet with his other hand occupied by his open phone. "Hi," he peeped.
"Hey," you exhaled, a grin fighting its way onto your face.
"If I made you a playlist, would you go out with me?"
You blinked, heartbeat rocketing into high gear. "Sunwoo," you started with a disbelieving laugh, "you don't have to—"
His thumb lowered onto a button on his phone. "Whoopsies, already did it."
Right on cue, you heard your phone buzz from your pocket. Curious, you withdrew it and opened the text message from him with a link to a Spotify playlist entitled: "One love song can't convey how I feel for you, so here's twenty."
You could have melted into a puddle of ooey-gooey goodness. "Sunwoo," you lamented, smiling way too wide now.
He beamed back at you. "What do you say?"
You shook your head, throwing your arms around him as he laughed and hugged you back. "You're so cute. Yes, I'll go out with you."
He gave you a little, warm squeeze. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna die from anticipation."
You laughed and smiled into his shoulder. When you pulled away, your hand gently reached for the side of his face. "What if I kissed you right now?"
His eyes widened a smidge. "What if you wha--"
You cut him off and pressed your lips to his briefly, then pulled back.
"Wait, wait. Come back here," he murmured, chasing after you and crushing his mouth against yours. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. The feel of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the firmness of his shoulders beneath your grip and the perfect pressure as you both sealed the deal with a kiss.
The two of you pulled away at the same time with labored breaths, foreheads meshed together as you caught your breath.
"You're not gonna turn this into a podcast episode, are you?" He asked, voice low and raspy, yet laced in a playful tonic.
You teased him right back. "As long as it doesn't end poorly."
He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations of his laugh against your lips. "Then I guess I'll just have to make it the best date ever."
"Don't worry," you said with a cheeky hand on his chest, "I believe in you."
With a laugh, he grazed his lips over yours again. "Thanks, superstar."
a/n: hihi!! thanks so much for reading <3 if you enjoyed, i would deeply appreciate a comment, reblog, or an ask to tell me what u thought about it! much love, onto kevin's !!
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @hibernatinghamster @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @kflixnet
#kflixnet#bjnet#deoboyznet#the boyz x reader#kim sunwoo x reader#sunwoo x reader#the boyz drabble#the boyz oneshot#the boyz fluff#the boyz scenario#the boyz imagines#kim sunwoo scenarios#kim sunwoo drabbles#kim sunwoo oneshots#kim sunwoo imagines#kim sunwoo fluff#sunwoo imagines#sunwoo drabbles#sunwoo fluff#sunwoo oneshots
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ASAP!
PAIRING! mark lee x f!reader
GENRES! fluff﹒crack﹒slice of life?
WARNINGS! as per usual, it is not a yeonjunszn smau without my sailors mouth — so mature language, coffee shop!au cause i work in one and couldn’t resist myself, this smau is actually a recreation of a yeonjun smau called cool it! by my bff past tumblr user yuitaru, manager mark era, kinda dumb reader (affectionate) era, milf lover jeno, insane jaemin and hyuck, chenle in his nepotism baby era tbh, there’s a fight scene somewhere, also annoying fluffy cute disgusting scenes here and there, an overt amount of coffee shop/barista references bc i am a master at my craft, mr. choi yeonjun has a cameo to pay homage to the original cool it!, ignore time stamps cause i was lazy lol, lmk if i missed anything!
FEAT! the rest of nct dream, yangyang + xiaojun + hendery from wayv, chaewon from le sserafim, sumin from stayc, mingi + the rest of the ateez ‘99 line, and yeonjun from txt
SUMMARY! you’re not exactly the best barista at zhong coffee, but for some unknown reason (his massive crush on you), mark thinks you can do no wrong. sick and tired of his favoritism and your lack thereof due to absolute obliviousness, your coworkers are determined to fix this problem. asap.
STATUS! completed!
BEGINNING! june 1, 2023
END! august 31, 2023
MORE! HELLOOOO im back bffs 😵 did u miss me??? i have a quick little disclaimer for u guys so i don’t get accused of stealing 😻😻😻🫶
thank u so much to rina my bff bestie soulmate for giving me the rights to recreate cool it! and sort of bring back such a fun smau </3 i’ve been working on asap! for quite some time now, between work and school, and i’m so excited i can finally share her with all of u 🫶 i do plan on going back to all my works that are on hold (including my 1k event LOL) but i was sort of burnt out for a while which is why i did all this in absolute silence 😋👍 anyway!! i hope i did her justice <3 send an ask to join the taglist!!
PROFILES! mark’s biggest haters | espresso patronum | the rest of chenle’s coffee maids
ONE! please no tweeting on the clock, y/n!
TWO! manager zoned is crazy
THREE! BACK OF THE LINE PAL
FOUR! go work at mcdonald’s or something
FIVE! common chenle L
SIX! i always knew u were a furry
SEVEN! call me karen from mean girls
EIGHT! mark antis 1 - mark 0
NINE! the best ever (1.1k)
TEN! NANEUN ALCOHOL-FREE GEUNDE CHWIHAE
ELEVEN! YESSSS GO GIRL BOSS
TWELVE! i don’t owe u shit freeloader
THIRTEEN! force and sheer determination
FOURTEEN! yoooo mark how it be? what it do?
FIFTEEN! pick me choose me
SIXTEEN! lunch break (499)
SEVENTEEN! DONG SICHENG ?
EIGHTEEN! hey guys this is god
NINETEEN! i will force his hand into a blender
TWENTY! chocolate croissant (841)
TWENTY ONE! #xiaojun_out
TWENTY TWO! grinders and coffee beans (951)
TWENTY THREE! what is a marky/n
TWENTY FOUR! shaking shivering sobbing
TWENTY FIVE! every summertime (1.08k)
TWENTY SIX! worlds worst barista. fired.
TWENTY SEVEN! cool it
© yeonjunszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
#nct#nct smau#nct social media au#nct socmed au#nct mark x reader#nct mark smau#mark lee x reader#mark lee smau#mark lee social media au#mark x reader#mark smau#mark social media au#asap.mark❕#yeonjunszn
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WELCOME TO 🥀Slxt's Masterlist ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆
Note: DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. All Works are fiction. Do not take them seriously. Minors DNI.
BEFORE YOU FOLLOW
Boba’s terms for Slxtty Entrance
NEO CULTURE TECHNOLOGY
FICS
Black Roses Mafia Romance (WIP) (Jeno x reader)
Jealousy (bf!Yuta x gf!reader)
Play too much (plug!Taeyong x Chubby!reader)
I hope we'll meet again (Nct member x reader)
Liar (bsfbrother!Yuta x chubbyblack!reader)
Tramp-Stamp (bf!Yuta x chubby!reader)
Anything for my good boy (sub!Mark x Femdom!Reader)
King's Command (Hendery x fem!reader)
Fun Games (Haechan x Reader x YangYang)
Quiet Rage (bsf!Johnny x Reader)
SCENARIOS
Nct members who would win in a fight
Nct members who I know would love a thick bixch
Nct members who would spoil tf out of their s/o
Nct members who would mark you in hard-to-hide places
My top five Nct 127 members with a high s3x drive
Nct members I think would be scary when angry..and why
Nct127 members who would love it if you sat on their face
Nct127 members who have pain k!nks
Nct127 members who are sadists
The ass smackers in Nct
Four NCT members who would get turned on at the most inconvenient moments
NCT127 members and their favorite things during s3x
How NCT 127 members tell you they’re horny
Which NCT 127 members are rough during s3x and which ones aren't
Nct 127 members who would be able to handle you throwing it back
NCT127 Sugar Daddy Ratings
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
The type to (Series)
Taeyong
Doyoung
Most possessive members of NCT
NCT127 Members who like it RAW
NCT127 Members and places they would f4ck you
NCT127 MEMBERS AND ROUGH S3X
MTL
NCT127 kinkiest members
CALLING YOU MOMMY (ALL UNITS)
REACTIONS
How Jaehyun would be with an inexperienced lover
First time with Yuta
How I think NCT127 would act if somebody was badmouthing their s/o
NCT 127 F*CKABILITY SCALE
NCT DREAM F*CKABILITY SCALE
WAYV KUN HARD THOUGHTS
HARD and SOFT THOUGHTS
1 Doyoung (soft)
2 Yuta (hard)
3 Mark (hard)
4 Jaemin (soft)
5 Yuta (hard)
6 Taeyong (hard)
7 Doyoung (Hard)
SEVENTEEN
SEVENTEEN members who are praisers, beggers or pleasers
Insecurities (Vernon x Chubby!reader)
STRAY KIDS
Insecurities (Bang Chan x chubby!reader)
#nct johnny#nct mark#nct 127#nct dream#nct haechan#nct jaehyun#nct taeil#nct taeyong#nct wayv#nct smut#nct reactions#nct imagine#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct yuta#nct u#nct yangyang#nct hendery#nct kpop#nct kun#nct jeno#nct jaemin#nct fluff#nct reaction#nct icons#multifandomslxt masterlist#svt fanfic#svt reactions#svt bss#svtedit
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take my breath.
summary | lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.
characters | lee donghyuck x reader(f).
genres | fluff, romance, slice of life, strangers-to-lovers, meet-cute au, high school au, non-idol au.
warnings | profanity, me projecting my distaste for skinny jeans sorry hyuck ily, mentions of religion (hyuck is my fav church boy), he calls reader ‘princess’ :o like once tho lol, second-hand embarrassment,, mentions of jisung liking ive’s gaeul, not proofread so it’s probs all over the place sorry :P
word count | 5.5k.
37.5MHz | take my breath by nct dream ⋆ first love by sondia ⋆ lucky by exo.
it was time i had a more shy mc in my fics 💪💪 also this is me just projecting my dream meet-cute scenario that i always wish would happen during the damned winter lol!! ty all sm for waiting for this ep, i hope u enjoy ^^ ep.03 of my candy! miniseries, but it can be read on its own!
SATURDAYS ARE FOR THE BOYS, AND WHEN THE BOYS get together, Lee Donghyuck’s entire video game setup comes out.
Today is the second day of January, and in celebration of the New Year, Donghyuck has invited some of his closest friends over for an entire day of video games. Huang Renjun, Lee Jeno, Liu Yangyang, and Osaki Shotaro have their hands on a controller. Zhong Chenle is busy calling his girlfriend whereas Na Jaemin is immersed in a podcast about bunnies. To his left, Mark Lee is stressing over university course selections, and to his right, Park Jisung is scrolling through an unknown girl’s Instagram.
Donghyuck, being the Donghyuck he is, scooches over to Jisung with a mischievous smile.
“Who’s that?” he asks, startling the younger boy. “Your girlfriend?”
Jisung’s face turns red and Donghyuck wishes he had his phone right now to capture the scene. “N—No! She’s not my girlfriend—just a classmate, that’s all.”
That’s what Jisung says, but Donghyuck can tell that something is amiss. He nudges Jisung and wiggles his eyebrows. “Then is she a crush?”
Jisung resembles a beet.
“She is?” the older one coos, pinching the first year’s mochi-like cheek. “What do you like about”—he pauses to read the name—“Kim Gaeul?”
“I don’t know,” Jisung honestly responds, looking down at his unlocked phone. “She’s really pretty and good at dancing.”
“It was love at first sight,” Chenle budges in with a dreamy sigh. In his eyes, the joy of teasing sparkles. “He’s been stalking her Instagram ever since November.”
Donghyuck scrunches his nose at Chenle’s words. “Love at first sight? You’re kidding, right?”
Jisung shakes his head. “Why would I be kidding?”
Because ‘love at first sight’ is fake, Donghyuck wants to scoff, but he decides to keep that to himself. Jisung is obviously smitten with this girl, and as his older brother figure, the last thing Donghyuck wants to do is smash his innocent feelings. He instead opts to say, “You should at least follow her Instagram.” To that, Jisung vehemently shakes his head, and the topic is dropped at once.
Donghyuck doesn’t believe in love at first sight. To him, love is something that occurs over time, not seconds. How can someone claim they love another when all they know is what they look like and their name? There’s no depth to love at first sight, no authenticity. Perhaps he’s being antagonistic, or maybe he’s just realistic. Either way, there is no such thing as ‘love at first sight’ in Donghyuck’s dictionary, and it will be like that for the next one hundred years.
That was him yesterday, and whoever he was yesterday is not who he is today.
Lee Donghyuck thinks he’s fallen in love at first sight.
The road to the local CU is short but icy, an unfortunate outcome of the repeated snowfall throughout the past few weeks. The boys had slept over after last night’s truth or dare session seeped into the early hours of today. Even now, six of them are sprawled all across his living room while Renjun is tucked into Donghyuck’s sister’s bed. Mark walks beside him, the Canadian boy lounging in a sweater and a pair of basketball shorts despite the cold weather. Compared to him, Donghyuck is donning a thick winter jacket and a wool scarf for good measure.
“You look funny,” comments Mark, his hands finding solace in his sweater pockets.
Donghyuck shoots him a glare. “In Korea, someone like you is more likely to be stared at than me.”
The two make their way down the sidewalk to where CU is, finding themselves lost in a heated debate on whether Overwatch or League of Legends is a better game. (Donghyuck is a firm believer in Overwatch supremacy.) Mark exasperatedly shakes his head at Donghyuck’s stance, hands gesturing all over the place as he asserts why the younger one is completely and blatantly wrong. Donghyuck, in turn, groans in vexation, his chest muddled with frustration.
Donghyuck turns the corner. “Mark, you don’t underst—”
One moment, he’s breathing like a regular person. Half a second later, Donghyuck feels as if the air has been knocked out of his lungs. Oh great, he thinks as a body crashes into him and his arms instinctively wrap around them, what a wonderful way to start the day.
“Oh my God,” a small voice squeaks, clearly mortified at the predicament. His focus is hazy from the impact, blinking to clear his blurring gaze. “I am so, so sorry!”
Donghyuck glances at the figure in his arms and his eyes double in size. “Woah…” he mumbles, zoning out of his surroundings.
You pull away from his embrace, pink cheeks displaying your embarrassment. You profusely bow, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “I’m so sorry about this! Uh,” you crouch to pick up the bus card you’d dropped, “sorry! And thank you for catching me. Have a great day!”
One moment, you’re standing in front of Donghyuck and Mark. Half a second later, you’re turning the corner with great urgency.
Mark blinks. His lips are parted in confusion but no sound leaves his mouth. It takes him a minute to absorb the fast-paced situation. Finally, he says, “What the fuck was that?”
Donghyuck grazes a hand over his pounding heart, feeling the irregular beat through the several layers of thick winter clothes. Suddenly, he’s hotter than the sun despite the freezing weather. His ears are no longer tinted pink from the cold, but rather, a shade of crimson from the encounter. There’s an exhilarating feeling in his stomach, butterflies swarming his gut. He can vaguely hear Mark call his name in the background, the older guy tapping his shoulder.
Is this what Jisung felt like?
Did Donghyuck just fall in love at first sight?
“Melk,” he whispers—Mark makes a face at the nickname—one hand still over his heart, “I think I’m in love.”
Mark coughs. “I’m sorry, what?”
“So, let me get the facts straight,” says Renjun, hands folded as he digests the contents of Mark’s retelling. “You caught some girl from falling onto the ice by basically hugging her and now you’re in love with this girl who’s name you don’t even know?”
Donghyuck dreamily sighs. “Yeah.”
Jaemin flops onto the ground. “I think you’re insane.”
Donghyuck dreamily nods. “Yeah.”
The group of boys simultaneously shake their heads at Donghyuck’s lovestruck expression, (understandably) ridiculed at how smitten he is with a random girl he met on the streets. Donghyuck, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about your flustered frame from earlier. He’s never before seen a girl as cute as you. If he was in a K-Drama, he’s certain CGI flowers would have decorated the screen.
“Did you get a good look at her face?” asks Shotaro, invested in Donghyuck’s love life.
The male lead smiles. “She’s so pretty.”
Yangyang whistles. “Recognise her from anywhere, maybe?”
Donghyuck’s smile falls. His head hangs low. “No. She doesn’t look like a student at our school—I would definitely remember her face if she was. She did seem to be around our age, though.”
“If she was in our area,” says Jeno, patting his friend’s gloomy back, “there’s a chance you’ll see her again. Could be from a different block of complexes.”
“Yeah,” Chenle chimes in, briefly looking up from his Nintendo Switch. “If she was running the opposite way, she might’ve been going to the bus stop.”
Donghyuck perks up at that thought. “Maybe,” he excitedly murmurs. The seed of hope has begun to grow in his heart. Jeno and Chenle are right; why else would you be in this neighbourhood if you didn’t live nearby? As his friends scoot back to their respective activities, Donghyuck bites his lower lip in anticipation.
Perhaps, he will run into you sooner than expected.
Fate must hold a special spot in her heart for Donghyuck.
Roughly thirty-three hours after his meet-cute with you, Donghyuck decides to go for an ice cream run with Yangyang at seven in the evening. (Renjun was going to join, but Donghyuck’s sister insisted on cuddling and being the sweet boyfriend but terrible best friend he is, Renjun happily agreed. Donghyuck is not on good terms with his younger sister anymore.)
Yangyang rummages through the ice cream bars, searching for his go-to Seolleim. Donghyuck grabs a Nugabar and a Screwbar—he contemplates on giving one to Renjun, but ultimately decides on eating both of them instead.
His money, Renjun’s loss.
“Hello,” Donghyuck absentmindedly greets the cashier, placing the ice cream bars on the counter for scanning. He fishes out his card to pay, sticking the slim plastic into the machine. When the payment is complete, Donghyuck grabs his snacks and glances up to say his thanks.
Your pretty yet exhausted smile greets him back.
“You—!” His words are caught in his throat, taken aback at the scene before him. He tilts his ball cap from obscuring the top of his view. “The girl from yesterday!”
Your eyebrows crinkle, adorning a puzzled expression. Then, after studying his face for a second, your eyes widen in remembrance. “Ah! The guy from yesterday!”
(Yangyang watches from the sidelines.)
The fatigue has now been replaced by sheer embarrassment and adrenaline from yesterday’s events, your ears burning red. “I’m so sorry about yesterday.” you apologise again, bowing for the nth time. “I hope you weren’t hurt anywhere!”
Donghyuck rapidly shakes his head, sticking his hands up in denial. “No! No, I wasn’t hurt. Were you?”
“Oh, no, I wasn’t, thanks to you.” you softly reply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears. “I’d like to make up for my clumsy mistake, if that’s alright. Please, take something from the store for free.”
(Yangyang snatches a bag of shrimp crackers.)
Donghyuck refuses. “No, it’s okay. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.”
(Yangyang slowly returns the bag of shrimp crackers.)
“Are you sure?” you ask, lips pouting.
Donghyuck finds you irresistibly cute. He can’t believe he’s never seen you around before, with your lovely lips and charming eyes. Hell, he’s never written poetry before, but with the way his mind won’t stop illustrating your beauty, he’s bound to replace history’s best poet with ease. Lee Donghyuck is attracted to you. He wants to see you again, and again, and again. The gears in his mind spin as a fantastic idea generates in his head.
“Maybe,” he slowly starts, scanning your face, “if you really want to make up for it, you can give me your name instead.”
(Yangyang suppresses a shriek.)
The red spreads from your ears and neck to your cheeks and Donghyuck thinks you’re a gift sent from God. His parents didn’t get him the PC set he’s been wanting for ages, so as retribution, the heavens sent you right into his arms. Literally.
You tug at your sweater, averting your gaze. “Y/N,” you speak timidly. “My name is Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Donghyuck gently grins, his heart rate accelerating at the progress he’s made. “I’m Donghyuck.”
When you softly smile at him, Donghyuck believes he saved the world in his previous life.
“Maybe,” Yangyang mimics to the boys, “you can make up for it by giving me your name instead.”
The crowd hollers, hounding a proud Donghyuck with pats on his back and slaps to his shoulders.
It’s been four days since Donghyuck got your name, and he’s returned to the convenience store every evening in hopes of seeing you again. Unfortunately for him, your shifts did not align with his visits, and Donghyuck is starting to wonder if he hallucinated the entire encounter. (No, he couldn’t have; not when Yangyang continues to reenact the entire scene during their lunch breaks.) He steels himself with a slap to his left cheek. Today is Saturday, exactly one week since Donghyuck’s breath was taken away. Once again, he’s going to pop by CU around seven in the evening––this time, with Renjun, who he managed to convince as the younger Lee’s attending a student council dinner party. With Renjun shuffling behind, Donghyuck enters CU with high hopes.
The Y/N drought instantly vanishes when he sees your figure at the cashier. You’re scanning a basket of snacks for a group of kids, laughing at their animated antics. Donghyuck is very, very close to becoming addicted to your smile.
“Renjun,” he excitedly taps the older guy, “that’s her.” He points at your figure.
“Oh, I’ve seen her before,” says Renjun, glancing your way. “She seems to be a student at that prestigious all-girls school near ours.”
Ah, the joy Donghyuck drowns in whenever he learns more about you (in, you know, a non-stalkerish way). “Really? How’d you know?”
Renjun browses the instant ramyun packages. “Saw her a few weeks ago with a calculus textbook on the countertop. You know, the ones specifically made by that school?”
Donghyuck does not know because he never really cared about the prestigious all-girls high school before––which was extremely disrespectful on his part for disregarding such a wonderful school with such a beautiful student. He’s jealous of the girls that attend your school, and how they’re most likely graced with your presence every day. Donghyuck would kill to see you every single day.
His hands grab a package of Neoguri ramyun whereas Renjun picks out the classic Shin. The two of them head towards the now-empty cashier, the kids having filed out a few minutes prior.
“Oh, hello.” you grin. “Donghyuck, right?”
He passes you the package and beams. “Yeah! Nice to see you again, Y/N.”
(While Donghyuck is preoccupied with staring at your lovely face, Renjun slips his package onto the counter and you scan it as well. Donghyuck pays for both of the ramyun, but he’s too distracted to realise the extra dollar leaving his wallet.)
“Has it been busy at all?” asks Donghyuck, pulling his card out of the machine. He’s desperately searching for an excuse to linger just a little longer. Renjun finds a sudden interest for the alcoholic drinks located at the opposite side of the store.
You shake your head. “Just a few customers here and there. It’s cold outside, so I guess everyone is staying indoors.”
“Understandable,” the boy hums.
The convenience store falls silent, Renjun attempting to engross himself in the ingredients of soju, Donghyuck digging through his brain for another topic, you looking down at your phone for the time. It’s awkward––so awkward––that Donghyuck thinks you might never want to talk to him again. So, pulling on his big boy pants, he pops the big question. “Do you have a lover?”
Renjun chokes on his spit. Donghyuck bites down on his tongue. Your eyes widen at the unexpected inquiry. “Uh—no,” you sputter, cheeks red. “I don’t have a lover.”
“Then…” He licks his parted lips. “Can I ask you out on a date?”
The convenience store falls silent. Renjun contemplates grabbing his friend and making a run for it. Donghyuck prays to every single deity out there for a positive response. You digest his words, letting each and every syllable sink in.
You nibble on your lower lip. “But…you don’t even know me.”
Donghyuck’s heart falls (so does Renjun’s), but he gathers hope when he catches your curious gaze. “You’re right,” he confidently states, “so I want to get to know you. I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. I think you’re really cute. Like really, really cute. I kinda fell for you when you—you know—fell into my arms. Sorta like love at first sight?” He’s rambling at this point, unveiling how desperate he is to have one chance with you. Love sure does silly things. “I mean, no pressure, though.”
Pink paints your face. You’re about to answer when a voice squeaks from behind. “Dude, move.” Annoyed, Donghyuck turns around with a glare but falters at the sight of four middle school girls. Oh. Donghyuck once lived with a middle school girl, so he knows better than to test their patience. Like a child that’s been disciplined, he obeys, scooting over to let the girls purchase their snacks. A hand grasps his wrist, tugging him away from the counter and towards the exit.
“Hey! Renjun!” hisses Donghyuck, struggling to release himself. “What are you doing?”
Renjun steps into the cold atmosphere. “Saving you from further embarrassment. Seriously, Hyuck, what were you doing? Confessing your undying love for her on the third meeting? You don’t even know her full name!” The Chinese boy abruptly stops and Donghyuck stumbles to a halt. Renjun prods the younger’s chest. “Look, you’re being too rash. She’s clearly on the shy side, so approach her, don’t overwhelm her, okay? Don’t start panicking and blurt out random shit.”
Donghyuck purses his lips. He wants to refute but he can’t; Renjun is right. He hangs his head low, feeling a little (re: really) pathetic at how careless he had been. Impressions are important, and right now, he fears he’s left a terrible one on you.
Renjun, obviously noticing Donghyuck’s sulky mood, adds, “You’ve still got a chance, though! From what I’ve observed, she seems to be interested in you, just extremely timid. I think, if you head back in with your thoughts organised—”
“Donghyuck!”
It takes him a second to register your voice. Donghyuck spins around, shocked to see you jogging towards him, still clad in your CU uniform. And like déjá vu, you slip on the ice, falling into his warm embrace.
(Donghyuck could get used to this.)
“Y/N,” he breathes, getting a whiff of your sweet scent. “Are you okay?”
Like always, your ears are tinted red. “Uh—yes! Yes, thank you.” You balance yourself on the slippery surface. “I just wanted to give you something,” you quietly say, lifting a slip of paper. Your handwriting is scrawled on it, which Donghyuck finds effortlessly cute. “It’s my number. For, uh, you know, the date.” Your voice grows smaller at the last sentence, awkwardly avoiding his eyes.
If Donghyuck is a dynamite, you are his lighter.
“The—date?” he stammers, unable to believe his ears. “You’re—You—Yes to the date?”
You gently laugh. “Yes to the date.”
Donghyuck is on—no, above cloud nine. He plucks the piece of paper from your hands, grasping it as if it’d fly away. He cocks an eyebrow and tosses you a smirk. “I’ll text you later, princess.”
You avoid his eyes but a grin tugs at your lips. “I’ll be waiting.” With that, you give him a small wave and retreat back to the convenience store. Donghyuck watches you disappear, his heart rate breaking records.
Renjun has one hell of a story to tell the others the next time the boys get together.
Sunday morning, Donghyuck lays in bed as he stares at your contact in his phone. It’s been a little over twelve hours since you gave him your number, and because he’s a nervous wreck, he has yet to text you about the date.
He ponders what sort of date would be the best. A picnic date? No, it’s too cold. A museum date? No, Donghyuck isn’t really into museums. An arcade date? No, he isn’t willing to unleash his no-showering-only-gaming side to you (yet).
A movie date seems to be the most ideal first date, from both an objective and subjective perspective. He opens Naver, curious about the current selection of movies in theatres. Donghyuck scrolls through the list, spotting several movies he’s seen advertisements for. A particular one catches his eye—Candy, a romance-comedy movie featuring four high school boys and their entertaining love lives. He clicks on the description, intrigued by the premise. (Don’t let anyone know, but Donghyuck is a diehard romance fan.) A small smile settles on his lips.
Donghyuck, with a vague itinerary in mind, sends you a message.
donghyuck: hi y/n, it’s donghyuck :)
You respond almost immediately.
you: donghyuck!! hi ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
He might overdose on your cuteness.
donghyuck: so i was thinking of our date
donghyuck: and i was wondering if ur up for a movie at the nearby lotte mall??
you: i’d love to watch a movie! which one ?
donghyuck: how does candy sound?
you: i’ve been wanting to watch that one for soo long!!
Donghyuck proudly grins.
donghyuck: i know it’s a little sudden, but is today at 3pm ok?? i’ll buy the tickets and everything, so just bring yourself
you: you don’t have to! i can buy the snacks
donghyuck: maybe you can pay next time ^^
Smooth, he thinks to himself.
you: if u say so haha
you: i’ll see you at three!!
Oh, Donghyuck beams, roses blooming on his cheeks. I definitely saved the world in my previous life.
Today’s look consists of a striped crewneck tucked into wide-legged slacks and a pair of black Converses. Donghyuck’s hair is neatly combed, his bangs parted to reveal a portion of his forehead. The outfit is topped off with a puffer jacket and a spritz of his father’s Dior perfume. Normally, Donghyuck would just wear a leather jacket in an all-black fashion. But Renjun, ever the style guru, emphasised the importance of looking nice on the first date.
(Frankly, Renjun just wanted to play stylist so Donghyuck became his K-Pop idol to dress.)
Donghyuck received a fair amount of compliments at church earlier this morning, many of his peers applauding the new look. He clearly remembers how impressed Uchinaga Aeri was, nearly shedding a tear at his lack of skinny jeans.
(Sorry, Aeri, but Donghyuck still likes his skinny jeans and he won’t change his opinions for anyone. Not even you.)
(…Okay, maybe for you.)
(Can you tell he’s hopelessly in love?)
Despite the below zero weather, Donghyuck’s hands are sweaty and his nape is hot. It’s ten before three p.m., and he’s standing outside of the cinema, waiting for your familiar figure. With every minute that ticks by, his heartbeat jumps faster and faster. He recalls Renjun’s words. Approach her, don’t overwhelm her.
Donghyuck, to put it simply, is terrible with his crushes. He’s always had the tendency of getting ahead of himself, ultimately scaring away the girls he’d been interested in. He never means to overwhelm them, but when his own feelings are swallowing him whole, he can’t help but express his love through words and actions all at once. Donghyuck hopes you’re different; he hopes you won’t be chased away by the flood he may be.
Three on the dot, you’re walking towards him with a bashful smile.
“Hi, Y/N,” he gleams, absolutely elated. “You look really pretty today.”
Your smile may be shadowed by your timidity but it still outshines the sun. “Thank you, Donghyuck. You look good as well.”
He giggles. Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks, Y/N.” Then, “I’ve bought the tickets and everything, we just need to grab some snacks. What’s your favourite popcorn?”
“Mm,” you hum, scanning the options. “I’m fine with anything.”
Right. Donghyuck forgot about your introverted tendencies. You’re on the shy side like Renjun had said, so he’s got to be the assertive one without, well, overwhelming you. The boy clears his throat. “How about caramel?”
You nod. “Sounds great.”
Fifteen minutes later, Donghyuck and you are seated side-by-side in the theatre, positioned near the centre of the large room. To his left are couples. To his right are couples. Behind and front? Also couples. Donghyuck catches a pair sharing a kiss and awkwardly looks away.
He would like to kiss you right now.
Stupid Donghyuck. Baby steps, baby steps.
He would still like to kiss you right now.
Donghyuck lightly slaps his cheek. He’s here to woo you, not scare you away. His priority is to have you reciprocate his overflowing feelings with the same volume of love and then getting a kiss.
The lights dim as the opening advertisements come to an end. You excitedly whisper, “The movie’s starting!” Donghyuck glances over at you, his heart stopping at how breathtaking you are. Not even the theatre could overshadow your beauty.
The opening scene of Candy begins and he reluctantly averts his gaze back to the large screen. Your presence is difficult to ignore, but Donghyuck is not about to get caught staring like a creep. He chews on a handful of popcorn in an attempt to drown in the movie.
Two hours later, Donghyuck is waiting in front of the restrooms, holding your bag in his hands. If anyone were to come up to him and demand an explanation for the plot of Candy from start to finish, he would simply laugh and redirect them to Namuwiki. Donghyuck doesn’t remember a single thing about the rom-com—save for the character ‘Haechan’—because he’d been too busy sneaking glimpses of your side profile. He might as well live on a ventilator from how often he loses his breath around you.
You walk out with your hands damp, shaking them to rid the residual water. The two of you walk towards the exit and Donghyuck continues to hold your bag. He asks, “How was the movie?”
Your eyes glimmer. “It was amazing,” you sigh, dreamy. “I loved the different dynamics between the four couples and Haechan—he reminded me so much of you!” You glance at him and beam, “Haechan was…my favourite character throughout the entire film.”
Oh. Donghyuck gulps. He’ll need to rewatch the movie.
The time reads five twenty-two p.m., and Donghyuck’s stomach resonates with hunger. He purses his lips, browsing through his memories for a decent yet inexpensive restaurant nearby. You must’ve noticed his dilemma as you say, “Why don’t we grab ramyun at the convenience store?” You elaborate, “I forgot my calculus textbook there. Also, we’d get free food.”
Free food? No sane person would ever pass up the opportunity to eat free food.
And so, around six in the evening, Donghyuck is sitting at the local CU with a cup of Neoguri ramyun steaming in front of him. You’ve disappeared, presumably grabbing your calculus textbook and greeting the employee of the hour. His stomach continues to perform all sorts of acrobatics, his nerves gnawing at his heart. Donghyuck has never experienced so many different emotions all at once; it’s like a tsunami has erupted within him.
“Sorry for taking so long.” You appear with a thick textbook in your arms. With a flustered tone, you say, “My manager—she wouldn’t stop asking about you.”
Donghyuck doesn’t hide his cheeky smile. “Really? What did she ask?”
Your eyelashes flutter. “If—you know—if you’re my boyfriend.” You whisper the last part, barely audible enough for Donghyuck to catch. Somehow, the corners of his lips lift even more, a pair of rose-tinted glasses perched on his nose. The way you’re shyly moving about, stirring your cup ramyun, cheeks hot with rouge. Donghyuck thinks that, if a meteor were to hit the earth at this moment, he would be content living the last seconds of his life with you by his side. (Sorry to Lee Donghyuck’s family and friends, but he’s got priorities!) He’s so, so infatuated, so head-over-heels in love with a girl he’s known for less than a month. There’s a plethora of things he doesn’t know about you, but he’s willing to learn every little detail of your life. Donghyuck wants to stay in your world for as long as time permits.
You tap his shoulder. “Donghyuck? Are you okay?” Your cup ramyun is now empty of noodles, only a small amount of soup left. “You spaced out.”
The boy blinks. “Did I?” He ruffles his bangs, accidentally ruining his neatly-combed hair. “Sorry, Y/N. I was thinking about how I’d be happy even if the world ended right now because I’m with you.” He blinks again. He abruptly stands up, neck flushed red as he grabs the garbage strewn before him. “Sorry! Ignore what I just said.” Donghyuck nervously avoids your gaze, scurrying over to the ramyun disposal to throw out the soup and recycle the cups. When he returns to where you’re seated, he fidgets with his fingers, unable to look you straight in the eyes. “It’s, uh, getting late now. I’ll walk you home, if that’s okay?”
Donghyuck misses the way you softly grin. “Sure. Thank you.”
The sun has already set, a dark navy coating the night sky. Several stars pierce through the atmosphere and Donghyuck can vaguely make out the Big Dipper. His gaze naturally shifts to you who’s brighter than the stars. Even under the faded moonlight, he can clearly see the outline of your pretty features.
Donghyuck has no clue where he’s going. He’s blindly following you, walking this cold path with you until your apartment comes into view. You haven’t said anything, which he finds a little nerve-wracking. Donghyuck, being the Donghyuck he is, decides to blurt out, “I’m sorry.”
You continue to walk but confusion taints your face. You tilt your head, lower lip jutted out. “For what? I really enjoyed today, even if it was impromptu.”
He shakes his head. “Not because of the sudden date. Well, I mean, I guess a little, but not really. I’m just…” he inhales sharply, “really sorry about before. How I approached you and overwhelmed you every single time. I didn’t mean to—you know—impose myself on you—”
“You didn’t!” you exclaim, breaking his ramble. In a dulcet tone, you continue, “You never overwhelmed me. I was just surprised to know that a guy was genuinely interested in me, so I wasn’t really sure how to react.” You cross a parking lot. Donghyuck follows. “I’m also terrible with human interactions but you…with you, I feel so comfortable. Don’t ask me why. I have no scientific evidence for that. But just…” You glance at him and he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your face. “I want to get to know you better.”
Donghyuck is glad you’re on the same page. “Me too,” he whispers, elated. “Every time I’m with you, I feel like my heart’s going to explode. In a good way, of course. I really, really like being around you.” I fell in love at first sight.
You stop in front of Building 301 and turn to face him. “Thank you for today, Donghyuck.” you say, voice tender. “I truly enjoyed it.”
His breath catches in his throat. “Me too.”
Something in you must’ve snapped as you bravely lean forwards to press a sweet kiss on his cheek. As you retreat to your spot a few inches away from him, Donghyuck’s jaw slacks in shock. You giggle at his lovestruck expression.
“Good night, Donghyuck.”
It takes everything within him to not squeal.
“Good night, Y/N.”
He watches your figure slip into the apartment building, giving a small wave before disappearing behind the elevator doors. Donghyuck stands rooted to his spot, hand cupping his kissed cheek while his heart runs wild.
You kissed his cheek.
You kissed his cheek.
Donghyuck didn’t believe in love at first sight. It was a stupid conception, because how was someone supposed to develop feelings for a person they had no knowledge about? Donghyuck didn’t understand, and frankly, he still doesn’t. He’s not sure as to why he fell in love with you at a single glance during a chance encounter. But one thing he is sure about?
Lee Donghyuck is confident that you’ll take his breath away every single time until he’s left unable to breathe without your presence.
you: donghyuck!!
Donghyuck pulls out his phone at the notification, a smile immediately spreading at the sender’s name.
you: go home alr! it’s cold outside, i don’t want you to freeze :(
donghyuck: how did you know i’m still out here?
you: i can see you from the sixteenth floor
Donghyuck looks up. The sixteenth floor is far up, but when he squints, he can see your hand shooing him away.
donghyuck: that’s not nice, telling your date to go away
you: if u get sick rn, you can’t be my date anymore so go home and take a long hot shower!!
Donghyuck chuckles.
donghyuck: so, more dates?
You leave him on read for one minute.
you: only if you go home rn and warm up
Donghyuck has never looked forward to living as much as now.
donghyuck: noted. good night, y/n :))
you: good night, donghyuck <3
Donghyuck believes in love at first sight and you are his proof.
bonus: the aftermath.
Approximately one hundred days have passed since you and Donghyuck decided to start dating, and instead of spending the special day outside, you’re snuggled up against your boyfriend at his place, watching Hunter × Hunter on TV. Neither of his parents are home and his younger sister kindly offered to hangout with their neighbour next door. It’s quiet, save for the anime and Donghyuck’s rhythmic breathing.
You lay your head flat against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Donghyuck strokes your head but his eyes don’t stray from the screen.
Frankly, you’re a little jealous.
“Hyuck,” you whine, poking his nose. He looks down at you with a puzzled face. “Give me a kiss.”
Your boyfriend laughs. “Needy, huh?”
You huff. “I want attention, so give me a kiss.”
Donghyuck chuckles, but he complies nonetheless, adjusting his position so his lips can graze yours. You hum into the kiss, your thumb drawing circles on his cheek.
It’s amazing how easily he takes your breath away.
© NABI (2023); ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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Paint Nails n’ Get RAILED!
pairing: yangyang x reader
genre: f x m, smut, crack
word count: 16.6k
summary: At the suggestion of Dr. Lee, you find yourself setting up an appointment at Yangyang’s Paint-n-Go, Neo Therapy Practitioners’ very own nail bar! However, when you discover just how freaking expensive it is to get your nails done these days, your tech has an offer that you find difficult to refuse.
warnings: everyone has a foul mouth, so here’s your language warning! yangyang’s a little shit. he has his nails painted + a tramp stamp bc fuck gender conformity. there’s probably gonna be inaccuracies when it comes to pricing, but it’s supposed to sound ridiculous. also some inaccuracies about how a nail bar is run bc i don’t work at one </3
smut warnings: he’s a total perv, some switch!yang elements. [ wet dream: consent is not voiced (please don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable, do what’s best for you!), fingering (f), dry humping. ] foot fetish (im sorry, i just had to), oral (f), unprotected sex, hand stuff....
a/n: i am so, so, so, so thankful for z!!! she deserves so much love, and i hope i make her proud! also, sorry abt the length!!! i can’t shut up for some reason lmfao, i swear i only estimated this fic to be 7k at first…
taglist: @bubblegumjeon @mrkis @luxebeautystyle @vantxx95 @ablackbtsstan @multihoe-net @seraphinealana @cheryltooy96 @aquamxrina let either me or z know if you want to be added!
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Previously, on “Step on a Crack, Dr. Lee’s Gonna Break Your Back!”
Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he presents you with a business card. A complete contrast to the simplicity of Jeno’s, a completely black square with red accents. Before you get a chance to read what’s written, he speaks again. “That’s my colleague here at the complex. He’s actually right across the hall.”
Now given the opportunity, you find that Jeno has referred you to a nail bar. “And what is this treat you’re offering?”
“Well, if you’re ever interested in getting a manicure or pedicure, you’ll want to go to him. He’s the best in town, nobody does nail art like him,” He chuckles. “Let me know if you’re interested. I’ll ask him to give you a discount.”
-----
You stare at the sun from your bedroom window, watching diligently as it falls beyond the horizon. Transfixed even as it paints vibrant splotches across your vision. Blue, green, and purple abstract shapes swimming freely, colors only intensifying when you finally close your eyes and fall back onto your comforter.
Upon impact, you stretch out your limbs to brush the dying beams of light with your fingertips, cat-like, and fully indulge yourself in its warmth. The feeling is unparalleled, the type of relaxation that can be only achieved after working a long day in the cubicles. And it’s here, basking within the sun’s warmth, that you realize just how comfortable your life has become.
Up until a few months ago, moments like these were few and far in between. You were plagued by the pain day in and day out, currents of electricity shooting up and down your spine at the slightest movement, sparking throughout each of your nerve endings. It was enough to make you irritable, and you found yourself taking it out on everyone around you. Without the help of your helpful (read: annoying) coworker, you would have never addressed your issue. You’re not the type of person to seek out help for anything, no matter how dire.
Or, at least, you never used to be.
That was until you met Dr. Jeno Lee, a chiropractor overflowing with sophisticated charm and know-how. His reputation and expertise preceded him, and you cannot doubt its validity even for a second. He did fix you after all– just not necessarily in the way you had initially expected. Did he cure your alignment issues? Yes, ten sessions came and went without a single hitch. Did he blow your back out on the eleventh and every single appointment after that? Also yes.
It is surprisingly easy to get used to an arrangement like that. On top of that, Jeno is genuinely a really good guy. So good, in fact, that when he clarified with you that he wasn’t ready for a relationship and wished to focus on his career, you couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad at him. Sometimes things just happen that way, and you can respect his honesty.
It’s a good thing that you have going on with him, really good. And now that you’ve been properly taken care of, it’s admittedly harder for you to accept anything less. Yet you still seek that kind of quality within other people; you expect it and get let down each and every time. But it’s not like you’re lonely– you still see Jeno as often as you can. However, he is a rather busy man, and you find it difficult to booty call him, even on your most desperate of nights. Not because he is unwilling, but because he works so hard. Your conscience weighs in quite heavily, convincing you to type and ultimately unsend your messages each and every time.
Without Jeno as a secure outlet for your growing sexual frustration, you find yourself returning to the dating pool. A mistake, really, but what other choices do you have? Your free time has been filled with numerous blind dates, men met on dating apps or through friends, coworkers…but all of them seemed to fall short of the mark in one way or another. Whether that be due to their maturity (or lack thereof), or even something as simple as a failed connection, your attempts at finding love come to an embarrassing conclusion each and every time.
Perhaps the most woeful aspect of this whole ordeal was the absence of a fulfilling sex life. With your chiropractor, you found each and every one of your needs met and exceeded with incredible precision. However, outside of him, your suitors were unsatisfactory in, arguably, the most important area: the bedroom. Much to your disappointment, you had a knack for attracting partners who never seemed to know what to do. Men who wouldn’t know what the clitoris looked like if they had an anatomically correct model to compare it to, only fucking to their own completion before calling it a night.
Maybe before meeting Jeno, you would have accepted this sort of treatment as a reality. And just maybe you could have tricked yourself into being happy. But. unfortunately, it appears that lackluster intercourse no longer does it for you, even to the point of faking orgasms so that you can escape from unsatisfactory dates. You don’t even have it in you to finish yourself off when you get home anymore, all but collapsing when you drag yourself inside, feeling hollow and wholly unsatisfied. Despite having been fucked better than ever before, your appointments with the kind Dr. Lee has brought you more problems than you arrived with– the only blessing being your perfectly-aligned back.
All it took was a ring of your cellphone to bring you out of your stupor, and you fish for its location on your bed without opening your eyes. Digits finally brushing the device, you bring it up to your face to squint at the contact. Who would dare call you at this time of night? The moon begins to shine full and unobstructed into your room, a cool breeze rushing in through your open window and ruffling your curtains as you rise to a sitting position. On the third (maybe fourth?) ring, you finally register the name on display– Lee Donghyuck.
You cannot seem to free yourself from him, even outside of work he is rather demanding of your time and attention. Hell, your job should give you an official babysitting title at this rate. Without another second of thought, you tap the green circle to silence your ringtone…noticing too late that you had been FaceTimed, not called as you had assumed.
Haechan, you little– “Oh hey, took you long enough! Whatcha doing? Oh, who am I kidding, you’re not doing…any…thing…” He drags out the last word, eyes roaming your face through the screen. “Oh my God. No offense, but you look terrible.”
“It’s nice speaking to you too, Haechan.” If the tone of your voice isn’t a dead giveaway as to how you’re feeling, you’re sure the roll of your eyes perfectly punctuates it.
You watch as your coworker flops down onto his own bed, brown hair falling back and revealing an unblemished forehead. Producing a snack from somewhere off camera, he crunches noisily with a cheeky grin. “What? Did you expect me to lie to you? Me??”
“No, but you could’ve at least had the decency to sugarcoat it for me. Asshole.”
He pouts his lips at you. “Come on, what’s a little honesty between friends?”
You push out a loud sigh, letting the device fall to the bed and effectively putting Haechan out of sight. “What were you calling me about anyway?” Rolling over onto your stomach, you switch on your lamp to illuminate your room. “You didn’t call me just to insult me, did you?”
“Oh yeah!” Haechan says, voice now muffled by your mattress. “I was just calling to ask you how your appointments with J-Dog have been going, it’s been awhile since you’ve mentioned him.”
“J…J-Dog?”
“Um, yeah? Lee Jeno? Dr. Dreamy? Your chiropractor? The guy you see more often than your own family???”
You grab your phone to shoot him a disapproving look, propping it up against your headboard so you can see him. On the other side of the screen, your coworker wriggles his brows suggestively. “No, yeah, I got who you meant the first time. I could have gone my entire life without hearing you call him that.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes into the back of his skull. “Say that you don’t understand bromances without saying you don’t understand them.”
“He’s not your bro.”
“Okay, agree to disagree. Besides, you haven’t really answered my question.”
That’s the whole point, you’re trying to avoid his question. “It’s going well, my back is on the mend.” You explain, hooking your thumbnail under one of your front teeth. “We’re down to one appointment per month now. Mostly maintenance, just to make sure nothing flares back up.”
Haechan whistles, “Ah, you’re going through withdrawals. That’s why you’re acting so sensitive, right?”
“I am not.” Okay, maybe a little.
“Well? What are you going to do with all of this free time you have now? You’re a free woman!”
Oh, that’s right! A lightbulb flickers on inside of your head, and you slide off of your bed in pursuit of your purse. From the other side of the room, you can hear him call for you, loudly whining and asking what you’re doing. Despite hearing him, you decide to ignore him in favor of unzipping the bag and fishing through it for the object plaguing your mind– the business card you had received from Jeno all that time ago. You really should clean this thing out once in a while. After a few beats, your fingers finally brush the edge of a black square and you pluck it free from the mess, thumbing across the raised, scarlet lettering– Yangyang’s Paint-n-Go!
Bingo!
You tiptoe back over to your bed, finally making your way back into Haechan’s line of sight. “Where did you go in such a hurry?” He questions, your knees coming into contact with the mattress.
“Ah, sorry about that! I just remembered that Dr. Lee gave me something after one of my appointments.” You explain, lifting the card and waving it back and forth to gain his interest. “You reminded me.”
Within the screen, the man squints at the object in your grasp, trying in vain to make out the letters. Despite not being able to read it, he offers an impish smile, pressing his face to his pillow. “Yangyang, huh? Finally gonna do something about those nails of yours?”
How could he know that? You didn’t even let him get a good look at it! “You know him?”
“Yeah,” Haechan shrugs, bringing his free hand up to the camera. “I go there at least once a month to get my nails shaped.”
His hands do look rather well-kept. Nails rounded and trimmed to sit just below his fingertips, cuticles cleanly pushed back. Who knew that someone like him cared so much about small details like those?
You tear your gaze away from his hand, deciding to read the card in your hand aloud before sitting it aside. “Yangyang’s Paint-n-Go, Perfect Nails Without Fail? Why is everyone being so cheesy, is this a competition to see who can come up with the worst slogan?”
Withdrawing his hand from your line of sight, your coworker only offers a chuckle at your despair. “What makes you suddenly want to go get your nails done? Feeling self-conscious of your atrocious nail beds?”
“First of all, fuck off. Second of all, a friend of mine is getting married in a few weeks and I’m supposed to be a bridesmaid.” You’re also supposed to bring a date, but you don’t mention that part. “Besides, Dr. Lee mentioned that he could get me a discount if I got my nails done by his friend. Everything just aligned perfectly!”
“A discount?” He frowns playfully, narrowing his eyes at you. “Why didn’t I hear anything about that? This can’t be pretty privilege, or I would’ve at least heard about it!”
You flop over onto your back with a scowl and raise the phone screen to your face, hovering your thumb over the red circle that would end the call. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t hang up on you right now.”
“Because you love me?”
Click.
Your phone, still resting next to you from the call you just ended, dings, bringing your full attention to the texts you receive. Filing in, one at a time, all paired with that same annoying sound.
Lee Donghyuck (work): How dare you 😤😤
Lee Donghyuck (work): I expect an apology by tomorrow. Preferably in the form of a steaming cup of coffee on my desk.
Lee Donghyuck (work): OH and a donut 🍩🫶
You: We’ll see about that! 🤭
You: Goodnight, sleep well!
Lee Donghyuck (work): Night 💤💤
Sighing, you trade the cellphone in your hand for the business card cast aside during your earlier conversation. Upon further inspection, you notice that, while Dr. Lee attached the number for the front desk to his business card, it appears that the telephone number listed on this new card is different.
A personal phone number perhaps?
Well, that would make sense, a nail tech is not exactly a “professional” in the literal sense like a chiropractor. He could afford to be more relaxed in his practice, offering a more comfortable and personable approach to his work. His lack of professionalism is further solidified when you notice that he has each of his social media accounts attached to the card– all using the same handle: nails_by_yang.
You can’t help but feel curious. After all, Jeno didn’t really give you a chance to check him out before you showed up to his office. Yangyang, however, made it easy. Almost too easy. Tucking yourself snuggly under your covers, you allow your curiosity to get the better of you, pecking his user into Instagram.
You’re not sure what you expected to see upon viewing his account, but it most certainly wasn’t this. Of course there are a few pictures of his work, that was to be expected. Some nail art and the like, showing off his talent and progress. And admittedly, it is rather impressive. However, you didn’t expect that this would double as his personal account, displaying pictures of his day-to-day life and, most importantly, him.
Nestled between a picture of a particularly intricate, bejeweled acrylic set and some delicate, hand-painted nail art is a photo of him. Even from the thumbnail on the carousel of pictures, you can just tell he’s attractive and that he’s fully aware of the fact. It’s pretty safe to assume that his Instagram is a key part of his marketing strategy at this point, especially with a face like his. Almost shamelessly you find yourself feeding into the clickbait, tapping on the photo under the guise of curiosity.
The photo’s setting is admittedly plain, just a chair and an unblemished white wall filling up the area where he’s sat. Yangyang, who appears to be at the photo’s center, sits on the lone prop, thick thighs spread alluringly and hips jutting forward to assure comfort. His palm rests at the apex with a firm splay of fingers, sending your mind straight to the gutter. Your eyes rake his body, unabashedly taking in the visual of his gray sweats and plain white tee– nothing too daring,but fitted enough to entice. Paired with dyed-gray hair and “fuck me” eyes, you just know that this guy is gonna be a problem.
When you’re finally able to pull your gaze from the photo, you shake your head in an attempt to ground yourself. There’s no way you’re going to be able to face him confidently tomorrow with the thoughts consuming your tired mind. You swipe out of the app entirely and turn off your phone, switching off the lamp on your bedside table and surrendering the room to darkness…blissfully unaware that you misclicked on the way out, changing the color of the heart on the post from white to red.
-----
Your eyes flutter open as a cool, steady hand runs up your bare torso, leaving a flood of goosebumps in its wake.
Night maintains its claim on your bedroom, full moon the only light source within. You lay tucked warmly underneath your blanket, and, having been sleeping on your side, stare out your open window. It’s warm under the covers, but you feel the familiar, chilled glide of sheets against bare skin. Strangely enough, you don’t remember getting undressed. That realization alone should frighten you, but the absence of adrenaline pumping through your veins aids in steeling your nerves. You feel disarmingly safe, but that unmistakable feeling of a palm lingering on your skin, rhythmically trailing up and down, is hard to ignore. As if the person recognizes you’re thinking about them, an index finger dips into your navel momentarily on the way down this time, only to travel back up before it reaches any lower. All breath stills deep within your lungs at the feeling, burning when you refuse to exhale and bring fresh oxygen therein.
Slowly, absent of concern, you turn your head and peer over your shoulder. Curiously making eye contact with the owner of the caresses– the nail tech you’d only seen on Instagram for the first time last night. He’s here, no longer trapped behind a phone screen– at your house, in your bed, with you. You don’t jerk away from him, instead taking this time to commit his visage to memory. Your lack of fear is concerning, you know that you should be scared shitless by now. A man you don’t know is in your bed, yet the only thing you can think to do is stare at him. Classic you behavior. With the help of your lunar companion, your eyes have adjusted well enough that you can make out the poetic details of Yangyang’s face, details that photos will never quite do justice to.
A pair of eyes meet yours, sparkling with all the stars in the universe but swirling with darkness. His lips are pink, full, and parted with bated breath, exhales fanning hot across your face, and you find yourself drawing nearer to him. Attracting like the opposing ends of a magnet are sealed behind both his and your teeth. Upon locking gazes, his hand, now warmed by your body heat, comes to rest at your hip bone. Gripping firmly as if to keep you there, fingernails stamping crescents into your skin. You hiss at the feeling, finally broken from your trance, and halfheartedly try to pull yourself away from his form. His hand keeps you anchored in place, and you’re unable to move an inch. “What are you doing here?” The words that leave you are cautious, and your voice is meeker than you remember.
The man remains silent, much to your dismay. You’re not sure if he chooses not to answer you, or if he just didn’t hear you, but he presses in ever closer right as you open your mouth to ask him again. Even with the lack of distance between the two of you, you don’t close your eyes and neither does he. You’re locked in a stand-off of sorts with no real winner in sight. An unofficial staring contest is being held, and you’re darting from eye to eye, trying to read his intentions. Before you can even surrender to a blink, he tugs your body towards him and you fall flat onto your back.
For a minute or so you rest against the mattress, the stranger still somewhat pressed your side. Spooning you, yet your bodies are not fully touching. You feel the drag of his pant-clad leg against your calf as he turns further into you, lifting his hand once more. You watch his face as he slowly tugs at the blanket shielding your body, giving you the chance to halt his advances, but you don’t. And again, he touches you, hand rolling over your body like the tide. Pushing higher and trailing down, but never quite touching the intimate parts of your body.
He watches your face with utmost attention, gauging your reaction with each pass of his hand. Heat clings between your bare thighs, and a drop of slick rolls over the curve of your ass to join the growing patch on the sheets below. Your cheeks burn at the realization, clit throbbing and present when you clamp your legs together subconsciously. Nothing audible betrays your arousal though, thankfully, but you find your body keening almost traitorously into his touch. Yangyang’s mouth twists into a toothy, knowing grin, wordlessly continuing his painstakingly slow ascent. Instead of making his way back down again, this time the tech cups the underside of your right breast. Giving it a gentle squeeze and jiggling it, hungry eyes feasting on the way it moves with his guidance.
The cool air blowing in through the window suddenly reminds you of the loss of your comforter and sheet, nipples peaking and aching to be touched. A chill runs through your body, teeth chattering in both response to the cold and anticipation of what’s to come. He offers you another brief, small squeeze before trailing the tips of his fingers ever higher and halting right at the border of your areola. So close yet so far from where you desperately need him. “Hey. Are you going to touch me or what?” You huff impatiently, head turning from his face to watch his hand. Willing him to move with your eyes, hardened bud mere centimeters away from his fingers.
He exhales through his nose, a sound of amusement upon your desperation. Face coming to rest in the crook of your neck, teeth lazily dragging against the skin as he finally drums the pads of his fingers against your nipple. The reaction is immediate, your body nearly folding in on itself as a lick of pleasure shoots down to your core. A soft whine bubbles forth, your hands seeking purchase within his mussed, gray hair. His tongue falls out, laving generously at your throbbing pulsepoint, expertly rolling your bud between his forefinger and thumb.
A fresh wave of drooly arousal flows from your hole, and you go to rub your thighs together to ease the dull ache settling between them. However, as if sensing your next move, Yangyang wedges one of his legs between your knees, forcing them to remain open. In your depravity, you can’t help but let out another whine.
You’re starting to get greedy, the fingers in his hair tugging harshly at the roots. In retaliation, he only pinches your tender bud harder before moving to the other one entirely, twisting it to life. He trails openmouthed kisses down your neck, pausing momentarily to dip his tongue into your collarbone. The wet path that he leaves behind is cold once his mouth flees, seemingly having predetermined its destination. His lips find their home on your freshly neglected breast, sucking your sore nub into his mouth and swirling around it with a tortuously slow tongue.
The fitted sheet bunched up under your ass is surely soaked clean through to the mattress, and it clings to your lower back, saturated with the evidence of his teasing. He presses his once distant pelvis firmly against your hip, allowing you to feel just how much he’s being affected by your body, by you. Half-hard cock pressing along the seam of his pants insistently, rutting into you slowly but with purpose. While he uses your body to coax his confined length to full mast, he pulls away from your chest entirely. You suck your bottom lip in past your teeth, watching him intently even as you’re left momentarily neglected.
He doesn’t allow room for complaints this time, dominant hand making its descent yet again, blunt, painted fingernails dragging against your abdomen. Your pelvis jumps at the feeling, pathetically thrusting your cunt up toward his steady hand. He isn’t feeling the need to rush one bit, even as your body curves into his touch. No, he takes his time, mapping each piece of skin on the way down. The tech still hasn’t spoken a single word, but small grunts of pleasure begin to leave his parted lips as he fucks against you, petals slick with his own spit. You strangely want to kiss him right now, to taste him and commit it to memory. You want him to infest each corner of your mind, leave you broken and begging for more. To build you up only to break you again and again, bringing you into a state of bliss that only he can.
As if he’s able to read your innermost thoughts, he pushes in close again, mouth colliding with your open one with a force only rivaled by the merging of galaxies. His teeth knock noisily against yours, tongue rasping against the roof of your mouth. The hand on your stomach takes the final plunge, finding your puffy folds with an experienced ease. Blindly, his middle finger traces your wet slit. Up and down, collecting your essence until he deems it sufficient, and finally pushing beyond the surface. He runs his finger along the length of your sex, stopping for a moment to circle sluggishly at your engorged clit before traveling back toward your hole. At the proximity you clench around nothing, mouth only falling further open at the sensation. He swallows each of your sweet sounds, drinking them down like nectar and savoring the stuttering swirl of your tongue against his.
He makes no sudden moves, his longest finger surveying the topography of your cunt, flowing juices coating every bit of his skin it comes into contact with. You’re panting at his point, hot air filling his mouth, desperation flowing out of every pore. “Please, do something…” You beg, wiggling your hips to further entice him. “Need you.”
Your words are all that he needed, it seems, digit breaching your walls effortlessly due to the extensive preparation. Your hole immediately latches around the intruder, but he continues to slide into you at a deliciously slow pace despite the minute resistance. He gives you more than enough time to accommodate his measly finger, but once you begin to squirm against him he curls it up to calmly stroke at your g-spot with astounding accuracy. “F-Fuck…” The spoken word is shaky, barely audible, but it gives Yangyang the information he needs to keep going.
He pulls nearly all the way out before slamming back inside, palm smacking punishingly against your folds. You grasp at one of his shoulders, trying to keep yourself from losing touch with your surroundings. The tech continues the rough, slow ministrations, each blow sending delightful vibrations directly to your clit. Your release is approaching with frightening speed, and he seems to realize that with the way he avoids your sweetest spot.
His hips moving against your side, long since forgotten while lost in the throes of your own ecstasy, begin to shudder at the prolonged stimulation. With both of your ends drawing near, your moans grow in volume, staccato sounds pitching ever higher. Even Yangyang is unable to hold back noises of his own, filling your ears with the melodic sounds of his sighs. You feel the distinctive feeling of an orgasm coming, the pleasure you feel climbing to impossible heights. Higher, higher, and higher still. “O-Oh! Oh my fucking God, I’m cu-”
You sit up with a start, bedsheets twisted and hair clinging to your forehead with sweat. Fuck. It was all a dream, of course it was a dream. It felt so real, but it was nothing more than your unconscious mind filling the void in your fantasies with an attractive face. You slide a clammy hand through your damp locks, pushing them away from your face. Luckily, a breeze rushes through your open window to meet your damp skin and cool you off a bit. Just as it did in your dream, you note. You bask in the respite, chest rising and falling with each breath you take. Couldn’t you have slept a little longer? Did life always have to be this cruel?
If only you could dream a minute more…
The remnants of your dream are imprinted behind your eyelids, vivid and painted in technicolor. You attempt to wash it away with a splash of sink water, but it stubbornly clings to your lashes. Just as the taste of Yangyang’s kiss sticks to your palate, even as you guide your toothbrush along each tooth in an attempt to rid yourself of him. If the heat remaining in your cheeks and across your chest isn’t enough to embarrass you, the glide of arousal between your thighs definitely does the trick. Who even still has wet dreams at this age? You, apparently, that’s who.
Even though you have to make an appearance at your job today, you have plenty of time to call Neo Therapy to inquire about an appointment. That’s one of the perks of a “9-to-5”– it’s just late enough to make personal calls. In the past, you’ve utilized this time to stop by your local coffee shop to fill yourself up on caffeine, but you can do that tomorrow. Haechan’s “apology” be damned.
After getting dressed for the day, you move back into the bathroom to throw on the least bit of makeup. Hell, if you’re going to show up without Haechan’s donuts and coffee, you might as well go in style. Then you can at least look decent when Haechan hangs off of your arm in protest, whining like a toddler.
If there’s a time to call down to the shop and set up an appointment, now is as good as any. You slip the business card from the back pocket of your dress pants, tracing over the phone number at the bottom with your fingernail. Swiping your phone from the other pocket, you dial the number and put it on speaker, resting the device and the card on the counter space in front of you.
You have just enough time to unscrew the wand on your mascara before the ringing gives way to a raspy, playful drawl. “Yangyang’s Paint-n-Go! This is Yangyang, what can I do for ya?”
Your breath hitches. Even though you recognized that the number on the card was different from the one on Jeno’s, it hadn’t quite registered that you would be speaking directly to Yangyang. And now that you can connect a voice to last night’s fantasy, you feel warmth reigniting underneath your skin. Shame? Or, could it be leftover arousal from your resting fantasy? Likely both in this scenario. “Yeah, I was checking to see if you have any appointments available for around…” You hum, applying the mascara directly to your lashes. “Six o’clock? I don’t get off work until five, but I can definitely make it there within an hour.”
“Usually I close at around five,” He explains, sounding almost bored. If he was right in front of you, you’re sure that he would be studying his hands right about now. “But I think I can do that for you.”
“Oh really? That would be wonderful!”
“Mhmmm. What kind of services would you be looking at?”
You dip the applicator back into the tube to gather more product, sliding it up and down as you think. “I’m not too sure. Do you have any packages that you offer?”
There’s a long pause at the other end of the line. “No, what do you think this is, Amazon?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said not at this moment, but we do have the best prices around.” You can hear the smile in his voice. This guy has to be fucking with you, less than five minutes on the phone with him and the fantasy your mind created the night before is already shattered. Who are you to expect any less?
“Okay,” There’s a slight grit to your voice now, but you still attempt to remain cordial as you put the mascara away in favor of a tube of ruby red lipstick. “I’ll be around later then. You won’t forget about me, will you?”
“I promise you I won’t. I sit around after hours anyways, to go over my receipts and grab a quick dinner with my partner, Mark.”
“Partner..?”
“It’s not like that!” Yangyang’s quick to defend, voice raising in volume ever so slightly. The corners of your mouth quirk up, making it difficult to apply the lipstick smoothly. “He…he shares the workspace with me, no more no less!”
You draw the tube back from your mouth, rubbing your lips back and forth to distribute the product evenly. “Yes, yes. I’m sure that’s the case.” You dismiss his concerns with a heaved sigh. Twisting the color back down into the tube, you press the cap back onto the lipstick with a clack and retire it into your makeup bag. Seriously, what’s with men and their fragile masculinity?
He clears his throat, suddenly incredibly aware of how unprofessional he’s coming across. “Like I said, I’ll be here. We’ll talk about prices when you come in.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
After your call down to the nail bar, the rest of your day crawls along as per usual. Not a single thing is out of the ordinary. From Haechan whining about his lack of I’m-sorry-for-hanging-up-on-you coffee to your boss, Mr. Suh, nearly bursting a blood vessel over an impending deadline, it’s an understatement to say that you’re ready to be pampered by the time five o’clock rolls around. You nearly drag yourself through the doors of Neo Therapy Practitioners at five-thirty sharp, and upon entry, the youthful, friendly secretary immediately notices your presence despite the soft music coming from his “work” computer. “Welcome!” Jisung greets jovially with a mouth full of pancakes, wearing the sticky syrup on his chin. “What can I do for you today? Another appointment with Dr. Lee?”
“Not today, I’m afraid.” You croon, offering him a tired smile as you approach the front desk. Once you reach him, you tug one of the tissues loose from the square box on your side of the desk.
He rolls his office chair from one side of his little box to the other with a push of his feet. Extending your hand, you offer the young man the tissue you plucked when he comes to a stop right in front of you, desk still separating you both. “Here– you have a little something…” You gesture toward your own chin, drawing little circles with your free hand. “Everywhere.”
Jisung jumps to his feet, knees knocking painfully against the hard wooden surface, accepting it awkwardly with both hands. A blush spans from his collarbone to the tips of his ears as he mumbles his thanks, turning his back to you so he can furiously wipe the offending sap from his face.
Cute...
When he finally faces you again, his face is clean of all traces of his meal, and he flashes a shy, boyish grin. “Okay,” He starts, seemingly shaken free from the shackles of his prior humiliation. “Let’s try this again: if you’re not seeing Dr. Lee, who are you seeing?”
“Liu Yangyang, I have a nail appointment at six.”
The secretary’s mouth rounds to a perfect ‘o’. “Oh, okay, that’s no problem! He’s actually located right across the hall from the clinic, I can walk you there, if you’d like?”
You accept his offer with a gracious nod, “Please.”
Jisung takes a moment to guide his chair back to where it belongs, pressing it under the coverage of the desk. Jiggling it to make sure it fits just right, and sighing when it doesn’t listen to him and continues to roll back. He gives up eventually, facing his still steaming plate, and dutifully covering his food with the plastic lid to discourage any wandering flies from making a meal out of it. You’re in no rush, so you allow him to do his thing, tapping your high heel-clad foot against the linoleum to no rhythm in particular.
He buzzes around like a honey bee for a beat longer, coming to stand at your side once he decides that everything is in order. Shuffling from foot to foot, he looks at you expectantly, wordlessly asking you if you’re ready to move out. Instead of giving him verbal confirmation, you decide to take a simple step forward. He matches your pace, long legs putting him in the lead as he guides you almost uselessly back through the familiar building.
You glance down at your fingers while you walk, eyeing the empty canvas that Yangyang’s about to come face to face with. Not the worst nails in the world, but most certainly not the best. They’ve definitely seen better days, and you should have been taking better care of them. And yourself, for that matter. Your mouth falls into a small frown, feeling the slightest bout of anxiety simmering within your stomach. It’s always a little difficult to face a new person, but with the corpse of last night’s dream still rattling about your skull, you don’t know exactly how you’re going to be able to act normal in front of him.
You nearly collide with Jisung’s back as he comes to a sudden stop, the tall, young secretary gesturing towards a door. “Well??? We’re here! Told you it was in familiar territory!”
And, sure enough, you glance across the narrow hallway and see the closed door that leads to Dr. L– Jeno’s clinic. A shiver runs through you, but Jisung doesn’t seem to even notice– or care, for that matter. Then you turn towards the new place, red neon ‘open’ sign hanging beside the door beckoning you in just as much as it pushes you away. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek until the familiar twang of blood rushes to meet your tastebuds.
There’s only a few steps more to the door, and you move to take them when you’re stopped by a warm, firm hand on your shoulder. “Hey.” He clears his throat, youthful face betrayed by a voice that’s pleasantly deep. “Don’t worry, Mr. Liu treats his clients well– you can relax! You’re in good hands.”
Suddenly you’re all too aware of just how fucking tense you are, and you force your muscles to relax. “Thank you, I really needed to hear that.” You gratefully reply, offering him a good-natured smile that he easily reciprocates.
“Anytime! His shop is right through these doors here. The register and front desk is on the left– not the right, that’s Mark’s. If Mr. Liu isn’t standing there, give the bell next to the sign in sheet a little ding.” He’s talking fast, and he’s already walking backwards as he speaks, trying to detach himself from the conversation. “Oh, and if you have any more questions you know where to find me! Please enjoy your visit!” Once he completely finishes his info-dumping, he turns on his heel, eager to return to his rapidly cooling plate of McDonald’s hotcakes.
After losing the comforting, familiar presence of Jisung, you find yourself unable to move any further. Risque images from last night’s dream flash in front of your eyes, as if shown to you on a slideshow presentation. Embarrassment consumes you yet again, squeezing your eyes shut to drown out the visions, but instead making them stand out against the backs of your eyelids.
You pace from side to side, hands nervously crossed along the underside of your bust. Step, stop, turn around. Step, stop, turn around. Shuffling back and forth hardly does anything to quell your anxiety. Why are you here? Is getting your nails done to piss off a few acquaintances worth the turmoil you’re going through right now? On one hand, you know that you shouldn’t base your choices upon bringing someone Hell. But the less rational side of you knows that just one look at Rianne’s livid face would be just enough to get work through whatever complex it is you struggle with. You’re sure of it. With that thought and that thought alone, you decide you have to do it– if only to give Rianne premature wrinkles and wipe that shit-eating grin right off her face.
You pull open one of the doors, and you’re swiftly greeted by the sound of an electronic chime. Unsurprisingly, the shop is completely empty with not even its owner to be found…he did say he was going to be having dinner, after all!
The room was filled with soft music playing from a speaker, some quiet instrumental with an acoustic guitar, but otherwise it was completely quiet. The room itself consists of one large room split off into two apparent sections: the front desk to the front left combined with a few chairs in front of it that make a small waiting area, the manicure station behind said desk, and the pedicure station right next to that.
Straight down the middle towards the back of the room was an entryway without a door, shielded only by a curtain of hanging purple beads– an area you assume to be the break room, where Yangyang said he would be at this time of day.
While you wait for someone to check you in, you make sure to fill out the sign in sheet, writing both your name and the types of services you want done. By the time you finish, you hear the tinkling of beads as the curtain is lifted to the side to allow someone to walk through. Your head shoots up to greet the stranger only for the words to get stuck in your mouth. The man entering the room was, of course, devastatingly gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than he had looked in your dreams.
Perhaps the most devastating part of it all is that he isn’t even dressed up. Wearing only a black oversized hoodie paired with some dark acid-wash jeans, it seems that he likes to keep it simple. While you’re shamelessly ogling him, he doesn’t even look up from the glowing cellphone in his hand, addressing you monotonously. “Hey. Sorry for being a little late, I was finishing up my dinner and filling out some receipts for Jisung. What can I do for you today?”
You swallow the knot forming in your throat. “Yes, I called this morning to set up an appointment for six o’clock??” You sound uncertain to your own ears, but you continue speaking nonetheless. “I was referred to you by Dr. Lee across the hall?”
His gaze rises to meet yours but not before raking slowly and shamelessly up your form. Once he looks you in your eyes, a smirk makes its way up onto his face. “Now I’m really sorry that I’m late.” He slides his cellphone into the pouch of his hoodie, finally reaching the front desk. “Have you had time to think about what you want?”
“I am definitely getting something done today, but I still want to look at the prices before I make my final decision.”
“Fair enough,” Yangyang opens a hidden drawer from behind the counter, pulling out a laminated sheet of paper and sliding it in your direction. “Here, I have my price list printed. Feel free to give it a read-through.”
—————————————————————
Yangyang’s Paint-n-Go!
Prices are negotiable and differ from case-to-case. Thank you for your understanding!
Manicure–
Regular Polish . . . $35
Gel Polish . . . $45
Acrylics . . . $70
Pedicure–
Regular Polish . . . $45
Gel Polish . . . $55
Mani-Pedi–
Regular Polish . . . Mani $35 | Pedi $45
Gel Polish . . . Mani $45 | Pedi $55
Waxing–
Facial Wax . . . $20
Arm/ Leg Wax . . . Part $20 | Full $40
Bikini Wax . . . $30
Brazilian Wax . . . $50
Add-Ons–
Scrub . . . $10
Hand/ Foot Massage . . . $20
Oils . . . $10
Gems . . . $1 per finger
—————————————————————
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, finger trembling as it traces along the bottom of the third group of items on the list. “So you’re telling me I have to pay…” You squint at the price again, somewhat hoping that the numbers would magically shapeshift into something better. “$120 for a mani-pedi?”
“Mhm, that sounds about right.”
“And that’s with the regular polish??”
“Yup.“ The tech pops the ‘p’, watching your panic with mild interest. “$35 for the manicure and $45 for the pedicure.”
“That still leaves out $40? Where the fuck is that fee coming from?”
He flashes a white row of teeth, leaning down to come face-to-face with you, chin resting on his palm. “That’s the cost of using the polish and it factors in my tip.”
Your lips fold into a thin line. “I’ve never heard of someone ‘factoring’ in their own tip. Are you serious? What if you’re no good?”
“Oh trust me, I’m good. You just have to be willing to take that leap for me.” He says with a tilt of his head, tuft of silver hair falling across his dark eyes. “I wouldn’t charge this much if I didn't have complete confidence in my abilities.”
“And what about the discount Jeno mentioned?”
“I’m sure I can do something for you, but we’ll talk more about prices once we get things started.” His eyes narrow ever so slightly as he forks a veiny hand through his hair, skepticism flooding his tone. “M’kay?”
After a short pause, you close your eyes, tired. Your will to press the matter any further is dwindling fast, and you just want to get this over with so you can go home and have a much deserved glass of wine. “My feet better fucking sparkle after this.”
His smile returns scary-fast and his eyes widen approachably, almost as if the previous moment never happened at all. “Of course! I’ll take great care of you.”
“Oh yeah, that makes me feel so much better…”
Whether he heard you or not you’re not too sure, but he guides you beyond the front desk of his shop with a wave of his hand. You apprehensively wind your way around, coming to stand next to the chair he vaguely gestures at in passing. Yangyang unceremoniously drops down into his own seat across from you, staring up blankly through his fringe when you hesitate to follow his example. “What? Is there something wrong with your chair?” He cocks a brow, dragging out an overflowing tackle box from under his workspace and sitting it on the far side of the table.
“No?”
“Then what’re you waiting for? Come on, have a seat, I won’t bite–” The handsome tech pulls out a handheld file, a dremel tool paired with a few detachable heads, a tiny pair of cuticle scissors, and a cuticle pushing tool from the mystery box before stopping to flash a smug look. “Not unless you want me to, that is.”
You let out an unattractive snort at the notion, falling into the plush, olive green accent chair in front of you. It isn’t the most attractive piece of furniture you’ve ever seen, having been stained with various colors of polish and other mystery fluids over the time it’s been in his care, but damn is it comfy. Now that you’re on Yangyang’s level, you can better watch as he prepares his station, wiping clean the table with antiseptic wipes and laying out a surprisingly white hand towel. He nods in an attempt to get you to rest your hands upon it, pursing his lips when you struggle to do even that.
“What now? Do I have to walk you through everything?” Yangyang teases. He holds out a large hand, scrunching and unscrunching his fingers in a ‘gimme gimme’ fashion. “Give me your hand, I need to see what I’m working with before we begin.”
“But what if you think they’re ugly?” You blurt before you can think, biting down hard on your lips once the words escape.
He stares at you in silence for a moment before nearly doubling over in laughter. Howling uncontrollably even as you end his life over and over in your mind. Eventually he calms down, but not without a healthy dose of glares from your end. “Whew! I’m sorry, I’m sorry but that was too good!” Yangyang raises a hand to wipe away the imaginary tears pooling in his eyes.
“I didn’t think it was that funny.”
He leans back, slouching into a mismatched accent chair of his own– this one being an orangey floral pattern. “This is what I’m here for, Sweetheart. It doesn’t matter what they look like now, I will make your nails look good!”
“Besides,” He hums when you don’t respond immediately, leaning forward and pushing up both of the sleeves on his hoodie. Then, he offers his hand yet again. “I can promise you that whatever you’re afraid of showing me, I have probably seen ten times worse. So come on, let’s do this shit.”
You drop your right hand into his outstretched palm, letting out a heavy breath. “Okay, let’s get it over with.”
He grips your hand loosely, but he radiates a steady warmth. With gentle fingers, he maneuvers your hand with ease, examining each fingernail with utmost care. “Hm,” He starts, swiping his pink tongue along his lower lip in his focused state. “I can’t see why you were so nervous, you have such beautiful hands.”
“Thank you.” You find yourself murmuring, squeezing your eyes tightly shut, as if you’re subconsciously trying to hide yourself from the weight of his gaze. You cannot believe yourself, how can you get this flustered by his words alone? Get a grip!
He seems to pay you no mind, however, continuing his surveillance of your digits. Yangyang must be really serious about his job, and that much shows through the diligence of which he’s studying each nook and cranny. After a few seconds more, he reaches over to grab a metal instrument from the pile that he has prepared for you. It’s cool to the touch when he brings it close to your fingers, nearly the length of a pencil with a wider scoop-looking piece at the end. When he notices you staring at the object, the tech raises it higher so that you can get a better look. “I’m going to start by pushing back your cuticles. It makes the nail polish go on better.” He explains matter-of-factly.
You can only nod at his attempt at dumbing it down, allowing for him to continue with his work. “This isn’t going to cost me extra, is it?”
“For the average customer? Yeah, a service like this would cost about $10 for both hands.”
Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when he finishes his statement, moving to tug your palm from his grasp. Yangyang keeps your hand held in place with a surprising amount of strength, “But, but, but! For you, it’s free of charge. Consider that a little gift from me to you!”
“Oh, wow, thanks…”
“What? Do you want to pay full price?”
You grimace, turning your head to avoid his inquisitive stare. “Erm…I mean, ‘Oh, wow, thanks!!! How could I ever repay you?’”
“Oh, I can think of a few ways…” He trails ominously with a sly smile, but says nothing more.
Your eyebrows nearly fly up to your hairline and you swallow dryly at what you can only imagine that he’s implying. And, just for a second, the tender grip he has on your hand transforms to that of your fantasies– the thumb swirling over the skin of the back of your hand a rough contrast to your own. His hands contain a delicious amount of texture, the subtle catch of his skin against your own is admittedly hard to ignore. “So, how did you get into doing nails?” You probe, trying to put out the flames licking in the pit of your stomach.
“I wasn’t any good at school,” He shrugs, giving your hand his utmost attention as he finally presses the metal cuticle pusher against your nail. “Decided to quit while I was ahead. I dropped out my senior year.”
You let out an affirmative sound, nodding along as he speaks. Making sure to let him know that you’re listening without stopping the flow of his speech. The tech runs the tool along the surface of your nail, scooting the offending cuticle back toward the proximal nail fold with a certain amount of precision that only an experienced nail tech could execute. “And after working a few retail jobs, I knew I couldn’t do that forever. I decided to look at my options.”
“So nails?” You ask, seamlessly switching hands when he finishes up his work on the first one.
Yangyang immediately gets to work on your untouched hand, and you only notice how cold your palm is when it’s snuggled between the two of his. “Yeah, nails. You can make a lot in one day, especially if you’re good at details. Besides,” He looks up at you through the silver fringe of his hair, eyes twinkling with mischief. “There’s no lack of gorgeous women coming into my shop. You can say that I keep myself plenty entertained.”
“I can see that, but do you actually enjoy what you do?”
He comes to an abrupt stop, seemingly taken aback by your words. “I mean, yeah??? I like seeing the results of my work, like seeing how much of a confidence boost it gives my clients.”
You leave him uninterrupted for a while to give him time to catch up on his work, swiftly and gently pushing back all the cuticles on your remaining hand. Yangyang takes his time to double check his work, carefully fixing anything that was even slightly under the standard he set before he deems it time to move on to the next step. “Well, that’s all that matters.” You hum thoughtfully as he drops the tool in his hands in favor of a tiny pair of scissors. “If you could go back in time, do you think you would make the same choice?”
This time he doesn’t even hesitate before speaking, pulling down the bendy arm of his lamp and moving it closer to your hand to better illuminate his progress. “Without a doubt. Like I said, I wasn’t exactly the smartest guy, and I really do have pride in what I’m able to do here.”
You don’t try to press the matter any further, allowing him time to neatly (and painlessly) snip the skin from around each of your fingernails. 20 minutes with him and your nails are already looking far better than they did before you walked in. Go figure, he does do this for a living, after all! The two of you sit in relative silence, the music pouring from the speakers being your only company as he really hones in on his craft.
After minutes of silent work, he finally looks up at you as he lifts the emery board to your overgrown fingernails. “So? What kind of shape are you looking for? And what kind of polish?”
“I’m not entirely too sure what color I want, but I would like my nails rounded out. And, as for the paint type, give me the cheapest option– I don’t want to spend more than I have to.”
“You don’t know what color you want?? Are you here to get your nails done for any specific reason?” Yangyang presses. He guides the nail file across the tip of your nail, using the experienced movements of his hand to coax a gentle curve out of the shapeless form.
You bury your teeth into your lower lip, debating exactly how much you should share with him. It’s a little embarrassing to what lengths you’re willing to go just to impress your peers. “Ah, it’s my friend. She’s getting married in a few weeks.”
“Color scheme?”
“I think she said something about the bridesmaid dresses being red. What would even go with that?” You furrow your brows, releasing your lip.
The tech doesn’t seem too concerned, lifting your hand tenderly to allow you to see his progress. “How’s this? The length?”
“That looks good to me. But you’re missing the point, wh–”
“I know what I’m doing.” Yang interrupts with a small sigh, returning the file to the stack of items at his disposal. He stacks his now free hand atop yours, sandwiching it warmly between both of his in a soothing manner. “So stop worrying and let me do my job. Please?”
You close your mouth resolutely, offering him a small nod. He grins at your compliance, “Now, gel paint? What do we think?”
“So you can charge me out the ass? No thanks.”
“Again, for you, I can bring it down to regular polish price. Gel lasts longer, and it’s stronger.” Yangyang explains. He’s gesturing animatedly as he speaks, knocking pointedly against the table. “Hard as a rock. Though, these nails likely won’t last you until the wedding. No matter what polish you choose, you’ll still have far too much growth to wear it until then.”
You inhale sharply through your nose, not having thought that far ahead. He’s absolutely right, of course he is. “What should I do, then?”
“What should you do? Come back, of course! I can redo them again closer to the wedding. Treat today as a ‘trial run’, so to speak. I can practice the design, and you can see what kind of quality to expect for the wedding. Simple!”
“Yeah, except it’s not that simple, and I’m not exactly made of money.” You grumble, sliding your hand from his grasp. “I only came today because I was told that I could get a discount!”
Yangyang hums, leaning forward in his seat, placing his chin on his palm and elbow on the table. He’s definitely not taking your words too seriously. “So you mean to tell me that it wasn’t my good looks and talent that brought you here?”
You flash him an unamused look, and earn a smug grin in return. He reaches across the table with his free hand, unintentionally giving you time to look at his black polished nails. They’re chipped from the hands-on work he does at the shop, and well-trimmed. Before you get the time to look any longer, he snatches one of your hands again. “Come on, let me work. I think I have an offer that you won’t be able to refuse.”
You hold eye contact with him, and his gaze is warm and unwavering. From the look in his eyes, you can tell that he already knows that he’s won. You sigh and allow your thumb to trail across his skin gently– in a similar fashion to how he had earlier in the appointment. “Okay, fine.”
He blossoms under your touch, eyes glittering and delectably tanned skin warm where it meets yours. “I won’t let you down.”
You’re not exactly sure how much longer you’re in that space with him. Minutes feel like hours and hours feel like mere minutes, you find that time is slipping above and around you until it consumes you entirely. Talking with your tech has that effect on you, and it’s easy to find yourself growing more open and free with your words.
You feel as if you have known him forever.
Yangyang’s soothing touch and steady hands coax a beautiful design out of each of your nails, painting red geraniums atop a nude base. “So?? What do you think?” He asks, layering on a final glossy coat and cycling your hand under the UV LED lamp to dry.
“It looks…” You trail, breathlessly examining your finished hand. “Beautiful. Absolutely stunning, Yangyang.” Just as you knew it would be, but you don’t let that part meet his ears.
“Ah, so you do know my name.” He stands slowly, bones popping from the long time he spent sitting with you. “I like the way it sounds coming from your lips.”
Your heart flutters weakly in reply to his words, and you slide your hand free from the light to follow him to the next station like a lost puppy. Noticing that you had clambered to follow him, Yangyang gestures to the open seat and hands you a remote, “Here, get comfy while I draw the foot bath. If you press the buttons, you can turn on the massage chair and get it the way you like.”
You let out a noise in understanding, stepping out of your black pumps and leaving them neatly beside the chair. After doing that much, you’re left with the feeling of your sheer tights-clad feet touching the cool linoleum. Wait, how the fuck are you going to pull your legs out of these without flashing your tech? While you stutter around, stuck in your thoughts, Yangyang immediately notices the source of your silent struggle with amusement. “I’m sorry,” You mumble, looking away awkwardly. “Do you mind turning around for a bit?”
“Not at all!” Without an ounce of hesitation, he drops everything he’s doing to show you his back.
You fumble momentarily with the fabric, but once you grasp the hose, you tug them from under your skirt in one go. Once you finally get them down and over your feet, you make sure to flip them the right way and pile them atop your shoes for later. True to his word, when you look at him again, Yangyang patiently awaits a verbal declaration that you’re ready. His broad shoulders and the fluffy back of his head are the only thing you can see. “Okay, you can turn back around now.”
He faces you on a dime, burning gaze daring to meet your bare calves and trace up to where your skirt cuts off just above your knees. Wetting his lower lip with the tip of his tongue, the tech turns his attention back to the tub. Then he cuts on the faucet, testing the temperature with his hand. You move to take your seat in the massage chair, but you’re hit by a cloud of something sweet in the air…vaguely floral. “Mm! That smells so good, what’s the scent? Wildflower?”
“Honeysuckle,” He supplies, shutting off the water and watching as the steam rises from its surface in clouds. “It’s epsom salts, we get it from a good source here at Neotherapy for next to nothin’! I added it prior to running the water so it would mix better.”
You drop yourself into the oversized chair, pressing your body flush to the backrest. Then, after messing around with a few of the buttons, you finally get the damned thing to turn on. And, Hell, you could’ve used this earlier. Once it starts vibrating (just the way you like), you feel as though you’ve glimpsed baby Jesus himself. Breaching Heaven’s gates, your eyes nearly roll back into your head when the vibration penetrates a particularly sore muscle. Delivering a dose of pressure to your back that is equal parts pain and bliss.
While you’re getting lost in the mind-numbing comfort dealt to you via massage chair, Yangyang’s drumming his fingers on the side of the tub absentmindedly, quietly allowing you to enjoy what the chair has to offer. But his patience does have an end, it seems, when he interrupts your trance with a statement. “It does feel pretty good, huh? I find myself sitting there on slow days.”
“Oh really?” You say, voice vibrating at the same frequency as the chair you’ve all but melted into.
He can barely contain a smile, lips taut with effort. “Yeah, sometimes I’ve even fallen asleep there, and I only wake up after a customer rings the bell up front.” Your laugh is nearly obscured by the hum of the massage chair, but he relishes in it anyway.
Now that the water is seemingly ready, you hesitantly skim the surface of the pool with your big toe. After ensuring that the temperature is not going to boil you alive, you slide in and let the water consume your feet entirely. The relief is instantaneous, head rolling back and a soft moan pressing through the seams of your lips.
Your tech stiffens ever so slightly at the noise with a sharp inhale through his nose. However, through the veil of pleasure (delivered via massage chair), his reaction doesn’t register in your mind. Instead you’re babbling about how good the chair feels, and that you should buy one for the office.
Yangyang cannot help but feel endeared by your chatter. Smiling as he opens a small unlabeled bottle from beside the pedicure station, he pours a small pool into his cupped hand. With curious eyes, you watch as he rubs his hands together, warming and distributing the glistening liquid all over his hands. “What is that?” You ask in a small voice.
“Essential oil. It’s the same kind as the epsom salts, so don’t worry about the scents not mixing right.”
You hum with tired eyes, giving him a curt nod. “Ah, I see. Why are you using oils?”
“I’ll be massaging your feet and calves. It’s good for improving blood flow and circulation!” Despite sounding articulate to the untrained ear, the more you’re with him, the more you realize that his ‘knowledge’ sounds rehearsed. It’s almost like he’s reading it off the back of a cereal box.
“Mmh. Okay, just be careful, I’m ticklish!”
He dismisses your concerns with a wave of his hand, shiny oiled palms brushing the meat of your right calf. “I personally like to start with legs. The feet are far too sensitive to touch first anyway.”
The apparent innuendo falls upon deaf ears, the shaking of the massage chair scrambling each coherent thought. Though you give no response to his statement, his trained fingers dance up the skin of your calf before trailing back down– just as he had done to your torso in your dream the night before.
You find your heart fluttering at the simple touch, but there’s no way of Yangyang knowing how your body reacts to him. Seemingly unbothered, he adds the slightest bit of pressure to his fleeting caresses. Penetrating the muscle, fingertips coaxing out tension you didn’t even know that you had.
The pressure of his hands paired with the vibration of the chair makes for a lethal combination. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t. Suddenly all too aware of the thickness of his fingers and the fullness of his lips. Have his eyelashes always been this long and dark? Just as you try to remember, a chuckle comes from deep in his chest and he looks up at you, clearly amused. “What,” He cooes, blunt, painted fingernails raking gently down your shin. “Are you just realizing how handsome I am?”
A burst of air leaves your lungs– a breath you didn’t know you were holding. In your sputtering, you somehow find it in you to roll your eyes at him. “Shut up. Keep working if you want to get paid.”
“Yes Ma’am…” He doesn’t even try to hide his smile.
And, for a while, the two of you sit in relative silence. The massage chair is turned off in favor of the music flowing from the speakers, and his hands gradually move from your legs to your feet. He takes extra care with your lowermost extremities, not leaving even a single patch of skin untouched. An office worker like you really could get used to this. His eyes refuse to leave the area where his fingers meet your foot, and with the pressure he is applying you’re sure that his fingerprints have been left all across your lower body.
Yangyang’s entranced, it seems. The repetitive movements of his hands trapping him deep within a state you affectionately call ‘work mode’. “So,” You start with a clearing of your throat. “What about the discount? You said that we would talk about it, and I’ve been very patient with you.”
“Discount?”
“Yeah??? You know, money off the final product? Discount?” Your voice takes on a teasing lilt, tilting your head as you peer down at him.
His hands come to an abrupt stop. “I know what a discount is. I’m a dropout, not stupid.”
“Come on, you said you would talk about it.” You hum, wiggling your toes to get his attention.
He eyes your moving digits with an unreadable expression. Appearing to be choosing his next words very carefully, you feel the rough pad of his thumb drag against your foot. “I think there’s something I can do for you…”
“And what would that be?”
“Hear me out–“
“I don’t like the way you’re approaching this conversation.”
“No, I’m serious. I want you to shut up and listen.” Yangyang exhales through his nose, somewhat irked, delivering a barely-there pinch to your calf that has you nearly jumping from your seat. “Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?”
Your mouth snaps shut in turn, head dumbly bobbing up and down and lips pressed tight. The tech soothes the faint mark he left behind with a gentle stroke of his hand, kissing the back of his teeth. “What if I told you that I could give you 20% off the final purchase...” He calmly states, eyes not leaving the place where his hands meet your skin.
“Oh my God, that would be wonderful!” You clasp your palms together, smile pulling up at your cheek bones.
“You didn’t think that was all, did you? Getting that much money off comes at a price.”
Your heart sinks. He’s right, how could you be so stupid? It’s not like you were going to waltz in here and automatically receive special treatment just because you fucked his coworker. You should have been more realistic… “Name your price.”
A smile claims his features, wolfy in nature. “I guess I can cut to the chase,” Yangyang starts jovially, lacking any semblance of tact. “I think you have the most beautiful feet!”
“Thank you?”
“And I want to have your toes in my mouth. Respectfully.”
Your smile drops, “What?”
“That’s my deal, 10% off per foot. I get to suck on some toes, you get more money in your pocket, it's a win-win.”
With that much money being taken off and how gorgeous he is, it’s an absolute steal. However, you also realize that it sounds completely and utterly insane.
But you don’t really have much of a choice now, do you?
“I’ll do it…”
-----
Apparently he’s not too keen on wasting time, because it’s not too long before he springs into action. He wraps his long fingers around your ankle, tugging you roughly to the edge of your seat. “Fuck,” Yangyang rasps, trailing his nose upward along the arch of your foot. “I’ve thought about doing this ever since you walked through the front door with those pretty fucking heels you were wearing.”
At the end of his sentence, his tongue falls out, pressing in and out of the valleys between your toes. You gasp and nearly jerk your foot away at the unfamiliar feeling, ticklish, but he keeps you anchored in place with a firm hand. Hollowing his cheeks, he pulls your big toe into his mouth with a harsh suck. Your face burns, embarrassed at the feeling, but you can’t ignore the tingle settling in between your thighs. “Stop!” You sink your teeth into your lower lip. “That’s dirty.”
Your tech only hums, tongue swirling around the digit before sliding off with a lewd ‘pop.’ He smacks his lips, pupils blown with lust as he looks up at you. “How could something that tastes this fucking good be dirty, Baby?”
He presses a chaste kiss to the sole of your foot, nuzzling his nose against you once more. “So? Do you want that discount or not?”
Your mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish out of water. Yangyang watches you with rapt attention, eyelids heavy and falling low as he changes directions to mouth along the top of your foot. He reverently makes sure that every centimeter of it has been fully acquainted with his lips and tongue. Chill of the air ever-present in the areas where his mouth leaves patches of saliva on your skin.
When you fail to answer, you feel the distinct scrape of teeth along one of your tendons. “What, you’re acting like I’ve fucked you stupid and I’ve barely even touched you.” He chuckles, pressing a few tongued kisses to the pads of your toes. When you flinch in his hold, Yang’s enthusiastic grip pulls you even closer, nearly causing you to fall out of the massage chair entirely. “Did you forget how to speak?”
“P-Please!”
His mischievous smile only broadens, ducking down again to lick a fat stripe along the underside of your foot. “Please what? I can’t read your mind, pretty girl, I’m gonna need you to tell me exactly what you’re trying to say.”
“Want it…” You mumble, voice barely audible despite the proximity.
He punishes you with a nip of his pearly teeth against your heel, glittering eyes burrowing holes into yours. “Louder.”
“I want the discount!” You yelp, maneuvering your foot within his grasp to press your first three toes insistently against his plump lower lip.
Yangyang’s jaw drops to welcome the intrusion, dextrous tongue laving generously over and around each digit. A warm, torrential shiver wracks your body at the feeling, every nerve ending in your body responding eagerly to his touch. Once he deems them wet enough, he closes his lips around several of your toes and suctions them deeper.
You’ve always known that your feet were a tender area, no doubt. However, you never thought about just how sensitive they could actually be. Each pull of his lips and bob of his head sends a lick of delicious pleasure directly to your cunt, and you can feel exactly how, and where, the seat of your underwear sticks to your folds.
Naturally, your thighs part. The pencil skirt you meticulously chose for your shift rides further up your legs the more you spread. Yangyang’s eyes, after holding your gaze most of the day, draw a painfully slow path down to your center. “White?” The tech’s lips are flushed red and shiny with drool when he pulls away from your feet long enough to speak. Is he seriously talking about the color of your underwear right now? “Fuckin’ cute. Is all of that for me, Sweetheart?”
As if to answer all of your unspoken questions, he puckers his lips to blow a stream of cool air directly at the (embarrassingly) wet spot pooling from the source. Instead of clamping your thighs shut like most people would, the space between your knees only widens. You nod dumbly at his question, licking your lower lip into your mouth.
With a quirk of his lips, he looks up at you unapologetically from the space he’s claimed between your legs. Yangyang’s fingers, once latched around your ankle, now play with the hem of your skirt. He drags a painted fingernail along the space where it meets your thigh, eyeing you like a predator stalking its prey. “I know I’ve promised you 10% off per foot, but, to put it plainly, I don’t think that’ll work.”
Your face wrinkles in confusion, “W-What? Why not?”
“Because…if I do this for too much longer I’m gonna fuckin’ cream my pants like some high school virgin.” He says crudely, shooting an unashamed look down to his jean-clad crotch.
Your gaze follows his, and you let out a soft gasp when, sure enough, you notice the imprint of his cock. He’s only at half-mast, but it strains miserably behind his zipper all the same. “But what about the rest of the discount?”
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” His tongue clacks condescendingly against the roof of his mouth. “I can think of a few ways you can receive that other 10%, Baby, but are you smart enough to figure that out for yourself? Or, do I need to walk you through everything?”
Your cheeks burn hotly, but you shake your head in defiance. Yangyang narrows his eyes playfully at your display, watching your every move with interest. Your once idle hands meet the edge of your skirt, pulling it shamelessly higher and revealing more of your lower half, much to his delight. Like a little boy catching the first glimpse of wrapped presents beneath the Christmas tree, he leans in ever closer, round nose nearly prodding at the slick spot in your cotton underwear. “Now this is what I’m talkin’ about!” He praises with a cheeky grin. “Do you mind if I..?”
“Just do it!” You bite, tone coming out a bit needier than intended.
As soon as the words leave your pretty, lipstick-stained lips, you know that you’ve made a mistake. “Now what do we have here,” He tuts, leaning back onto his heels. Yangyang’s hands withdraw from your skin, making you feel even colder than before after having lost his warmth. “I thought you were gonna be so good for me, what happened to that?”
“I am!”
“You are what?” He questions slowly, tasting each word in his mouth.
“I am good…for you.” You say feebly, looking down at him with unfocused eyes.
Immediately, as if he found your words funny, he flashes his top row of teeth. “Are you? Good girls don’t make demands, they take what they’re given.” Those very same teeth trace at your thigh, eying you carefully through his fringe. “Can you do that?”
“Yes...” You agree shakily, reaching lower to shove an idle hand through his silver locks.
Instead of pushing you away, he leans further into your touch and rewards you with a depraved sound of his own. Now that’s something to behold. You stroke the head in your lap like it’s a stray cat– carefully, regarding him as if he will bite at any moment.
And then he does.
His lips come in contact with your folds, unapologetically stamping a spit-slick kiss into the fabric covering your lower half. However, at this point, the sheer amount of arousal being produced leaves very little to the imagination. Your lower body jolts at the suddenness of the tech’s touch, but his hands come up seemingly out of nowhere to anchor you in place. Eyes dark with intention, wordlessly daring you to defy him.
Yangyang’s bubblegum pink tongue slips past his teeth to prod at the valley of your cunt, pushing your underwear to its limit, forcing more of your juices to seep through to meet his tastebuds. It’s pornographic, the way his eyes roll back into his skull when he finally registers your heady taste. His breath is hot, rolling across your skin in thick, invisible clouds.
Expert hands glide over your thighs and up over the swell of your hips, carefully reaching its destination over the waistband of your panties. He drums his fingers there, commanding attention. “Can I take these off?” He asks, his voice rough with arousal.
“Please.” Your voice is damn near a whisper, but it appears that this time, at least, he doesn't require clarification.
He hooks his middle digit under the elastic, guiding it down your legs. Then, after it’s freed from your ankles, he swiftly pockets the sodden material with a salacious wink, leaving you with no room to complain. However, your mind hardly registers the movement at all.
Reaching out with careful fingers, the tech spreads your folds with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He comments, readjusting his hand to broaden the part. Then, as if acting on impulse alone, he collects some of your dew onto one of his fingers, popping it into his mouth. Yangyang groans, his reaction immediate. “And sweet too. So, so sweet.”
“For you!” You blurt out, head cloudy with desire. You need him.
“Is that right, Sweetheart?” You’re able to hear his grin before you see it. “All for me?”
You’re lying. You know you’re lying, but there’s not even an ounce of hesitation in the way you nod your head. An enthusiastic group of up’s and down’s. Even if it’s just for tonight, it’s all for Yangyang.
Only him.
If the tech’s caught on to your lies, however, he doesn’t let it show. You’re rewarded with a low sound from the back of his throat before he’s leaning in to drink directly from the source. He flattens his tongue, running it up the full length of your cunt, stopping just shy from the bundle of nerves at the top.
The contact alone is enough to make you clamp your thighs around his head. This does little to deter him, his movement hardly restricted as he slurps greedily at your entrance. Once he takes in enough air to have his lungs screaming, he’s exhaling dramatically against your folds. Only mere seconds before taking in more dizzying inhales of your heady scent.
You squeal in embarrassment and throw your head back, hard, against the leather backrest of the massage chair. He looks up at you with a shimmer of amusement in his eyes, as if brought out of his lust-induced trance by your clumsiness alone. Somehow, it seems as though he knows every way to bring out even the most shameful sides of you with a well-versed swipe of his tongue.
His wet muscle circles at your hole, prompting you to tug at his hair with a soft keen. The tech hums against you but says nothing, darting the tip of his tongue inside of you. The penetration is brief, but it's enough to have you letting out a few stray whimpers. Another dose of decadent pleasure runs up your spine, and your legs, anchored around his shoulders, pull his face closer to your lower half.
Up towards the button of nerves he’s been neglecting this entire time.
But instead of allowing himself to be guided, he pulls back slightly to look directly into your eyes. His lips, sinfully slick with your essence, pull back into a toothy grin. A signature of his, you’ve discovered. “Don’t worry, I know where your clit is, Sweetheart.” Yangyang’s eyes flit lower, presumably to where your abandoned clitoris vies for his attention, throbbing. “I’m just having my fun. Indulge me.”
The lack of proper stimulation is enough to have you staring impatiently down at him, eyes nearly crossing as you try to find him through your arousal-induced haze. He rolls eyes up towards the ceiling, snickering and jolting you fully alert with a kiss directly to your clit. The brief contact is enough to have your breath stilling deep within your chest, hole fluttering pathetically around nothing.
Before you can anticipate much more, he shrugs free from your legs and bats away your desperate grip on his hair. You sit up, watching him with curiosity as he moves away from where you lay. Lower half bare and exposed to the coolness of the room around you, yet feeling pleasantly flushed with arousal from the teasing you’ve been receiving all night…only to have it taken away. “What are you doing?” You croak, voice sounding rough, yet vulnerable, from disuse.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Yangyang quips, moving to stand from where he was perched on his knees. He adjusts the tent pitched in the front of his acid wash jeans, leering down at you with a predatory glint. “I have to get undressed to fuck you, y’know. I’m not really a ‘whip out my cock and go’ kind of dude. Sorry.”
The rush of blood pumping from your racing heart thunders in your ears. If it wasn’t apparent earlier, it’s all coming into focus now: you’re about to have sex with him. Liu Yangyang. The nail tech at Neo Therapy. In the office right across the hall from the last man you fucked.
Super.
He steps towards the chair you had been sitting in earlier, innocently getting your nails done, completely unaware of the direction it was headed. Now feels like a far cry from then, even though it couldn’t have been longer than half an hour ago.
Yangyang crosses his arms in front of him to tug at the bottom of his hoodie; even with his back to you, you scan each sliver of skin revealed to you like a person starved. As if feeling the weight of your stare, the tech moves slowly without even tossing you so much as a glance over his shoulder– deliberately drawing your attention in further.
Seated between the two dimples on his lower back is a delicate-looking butterfly tattoo. There’s nothing special about the design, not much more than some line art of the insect, but it’s intriguing enough that you almost forget to look at anything else. Almost.
The muscles in his back ripple as he tugs the heavy fabric over his head, letting it fall into the polish-stained seat of the chair without much care. After a long beat of silence, your curiosity gets the best of you. “Hey, the butterfly on your back, does it mean something?”
“Nothing really,” He offers you a breathless laugh, undoing the button on his jeans with one handed ease. “I guess it was an act of rebellion when I finally left home at 19. It meant so much to me when I got it, but now it feels a bit silly.”
“It’s not silly, it’s…actually really nice.”
“I’m glad you like it, my dad nearly kicked my ass when he first saw it. I swear I’ve never seen his face get that red in my entire life!” Yangyang fumbles the rest of the way out of his jeans, one of the pant legs getting stuck comically around his ankle. “I thought he was going to skin me alive and hang me from the flagpole!”
When he is finally free from his denim prison, he tosses it into his small clothes pile and leaves his black tennis shoes where he stepped out of them to come back to your side. He doesn’t, however, take off his socks, which is only mildly concerning. Now that the tech has returned to where you are seated, you get a good look at the impression of his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. He’s not too long, standing at around average length, but the girth alone is something to shy away from.
When he notices you studying him, he raises a playful, arched brow, gentle palm coming up to cup the side of your face. “Like what you see?”
You nod and hum sweetly, leaning in to nose along his length. You take your time to inhale gulps of his scent, salty with sweat, and your action elicits the most primal of noises from the back of his throat. “Fuck,” He croaks, biting down harshly on the plump flesh of his lower lip. “If I wasn’t about to bust a nut just looking at you this close to my cock, I would want to see how pretty your lips would look, stretched and struggling to take it.”
You moan in response, and his thumb slides from its perch on your face to streak the remnants of your cherry red lipstick across your cheek. He smiles wide, pearly glint of teeth almost entirely humorless. “So fucking pretty. Hm, I guess we’ll have to save that for your next appointment. We have to leave some things to the imagination, don’t we?”
There’s an impatience in the way Yangyang rids himself of his underwear under your watchful stare. Under any other circumstance, you would probably tease him for his shaking hands and the silly way he kicks the fabric airborne to God knows where. Right now, though, you find your throat impossibly dry, and you swallow hard in a desperate attempt to wet it as you watch his length spring free from its confines.
He wraps his hand around his cock, giving it a few leisurely pumps, his eyes zeroing in on your glistening lower half still seated in an embarrassing pool of slick. “I don’t have a condom on me, is that cool? I’m clean, I get tested regularly.”
“Mhm,” You reply breathlessly. “Just fuck me, please, I need to feel you.”
He nods once, resolute, those words all he needed to hear before he moved in. Yangyang’s hands are heavy on your hips, pulling you closer to his torso and sliding you further down on the chair. Fuck, your neck is definitely going to be hurting in the morning. Then, one hand leaving your body, he holds his dick to gently run the head through your puffy folds. He collects your arousal, careful not to slip inside just yet, but he prods at your clit at the end of a slow swipe. Simultaneously, the pair of you shiver at the stimulation, and it’s almost as if you were connected to the same live wire. Electrifying.
After a few more passes of his cock it seems that even he is tiring of the teasing, so he finally, finally breeches your walls. A sweet moan tumbles from your mouth, low and unrestrained, and he hisses in response. “God, you’re gripping me so tight, are you sure that you’ve been fucked before?” He groans, head falling to meet the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “I’ve barely even gotten the tip inside and you’re already trying to push me out.”
Your walls are giving futile resistance to his length, but he continues pushing in steadily until he’s fully seated inside of you. “So thick!” You breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.
“That’s right, Sweetheart. And you’re taking it all…” He punctuates his words by tightening his grip on your hips, blunt fingernails biting into your skin. A part of you hopes that they bruise.
He sets a brutal pace from the start, almost immediately pulling back to reenter despite the lack of adequate adjustment. When you whine in complaint, he offers a simple, halfhearted apology that sounds something like “Shit…sorry, o-oh fuck, I’ll make it up to you, I swear..!”
It– He’s endearing, so you let it slide.
Each thrust is perfectly placed, and you have to toss your forearm across your face to keep from letting out the embarrassing noises bubbling up your throat. Yangyang doesn’t seem to appreciate that, and he punishes you with a wordless nip at the column of your neck accordingly.
You can feel pleasure mounting where your two bodies meet, and you hate to admit that you can already feel your release tingling in your toes and the tips of your fingers. Despite the effort to keep your sounds at bay, you’re still letting out a few here and there past your drool-slick barrier. “Oh my God!” You wail when he brushes the spot in you that sets off blindingly bright fireworks right behind your eyes. “Right there!”
“Right here?” He teases with a pointed thrust, breathless and covered in a sheen of sweat, leaving the comfort of your neck to meet your gaze.
While the first thrust sets off fireworks, the next one feels like a flashbang. An explosion of white hot pleasure nearly takes you by surprise, and you lose all semblance of self-control, rolling your hips down into him and fucking yourself further onto his cock. “Yes! Don’t stop!”
And he doesn’t. The tech instead grabs one of your thighs, maneuvering you onto your side and guiding your leg up onto his shoulder in one swift movement. He immediately slips back into your wet heat with a groan, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this pussy, shit, I’m going to have to move up your fill appointment.”
With the new angle, one of his hip bones kiss your clit in just the right way. Tears springing to your eyes, elusive orgasm hurtling towards you at an alarming pace. “I’m gonna cum!” You whine, a teardrop rolling over the gentle slope of your cheekbone.
“Cum for me, Sweetheart, let me feel you cream my cock!”
He doesn’t slow his thrusts or make any unnecessary adjustments as you finally, and thankfully, come undone. Your heart thunders loudly in your head as you drench both the chair and the skin where you and him connect. Upon feeling your hole flutter around him, Yangyang whimpers and doesn’t slow his movements despite you teetering on the edge of pain from your recent orgasm.
“So, so good for me, I knew you were a good girl.” He babbles, barely coherent at all. You hiss when the stimulation becomes all too much, and he still finds it within himself to coo at the state of you. “I know, I know, I’m so close. Just a little bit more.”
Then, just when you think that you’ve completely figured him out, he does something completely unexpected. He guides your hand, resting limply at your side, up to his neck. Holding you there with an insistent press of his palm, wanting you to create pressure of your own.
When you grace him with a gentle squeeze, his eyes immediately roll back into his head. “Are you sure?” You ask, easing off of the pressure only the slightest bit.
“Please, please, please…” He pants, a dribble of spit creeping into the corner of his mouth.
Once you receive his desperate plea, your fingers tighten their grip, but not so much as to completely restrict airflow all together. His eyes, hazy and unfocused, are glued to the ceiling. Face red and forehead beaded with sweat, his hips stutter as his end closes in on him.
Your eyes widen and you tighten your grip with haste, “Pull out!”
And he does, a trembling hand prying your fingers from his neck. Yangyang holds it tenderly in contrast to the furious nature that he’s currently jerking his cock. After a few more pumps, he grits his teeth and cums with a near inhuman shout, making sure to cover the entirety of your hand with strings of his pearlescent release.
With a few lingering tugs, he milks himself of what remains and heaves a long sigh, completely satiated. Then, as if reinflating a party balloon, he perks up and hops directly into action. “Wait! Hold it right there!” He says, speed walking back to his discarded pile of clothing. “Don’t move a muscle.”
Your forehead wrinkles in confusion, but you do as he asks, not really wanting to move much anyway. When he finally returns to your side, he waves his long forgotten cellphone in the air with a shit-eating grin. Your heart drops, “What are you doing with that?”
Immediately, he raises his hands defensively (phone still clutched in one of them), smile dropping. His brows shoot up to his hairline. “Just taking a picture of your hand. You know that I post pictures of my work on Instagram, right?”
“Gross!”
The tech raises and drops his shoulder, all-too-familiar amusement lacing his tone. “The ladies love it.”
“Go ahead…just don’t post it, for fuck’s sake.” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your unsoiled hand, a loud discontented sigh wracking your body.
“I won’t, I won’t. Scout’s honor!” Yangyang beams, rubbing at the nape of his neck. The action would almost seem sheepish if you didn’t already see him for what he truly is. “This is for my private collection.”
“Oh, you’re sick.”
“Guilty as charged, Sweetheart.”
-----
The day’s still young when Yangyang finds himself with some free time to take a break. He had (that being the keyword) an early morning appointment, but, despite the bitterness he initially felt at the last minute cancellation, he’s thankful for the prospect of an earlier lunch.
He grabs his elementary school-grade Deadpool lunchbox out of the electric blue minifridge, unzipping it carefully so as to not spill its contents all over the floor. His meticulously packed lunch consists of a tinfoil wrapped sandwich, a small bag of Cheetos, a couple of snack cakes, and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies.
The lunch of champions.
He dutifully unwraps the main course, disposing of the foil with an arch of his wrist, tossing the ball at an overflowing waste bin. Yangyang, of course, overestimates the distance and misses the metal can entirely. Classic man behavior. But instead of standing, picking it up, and disposing of it properly, he decides to ignore its existence entirely and pretend that he made it in. It’s not like anyone saw his failure, right?
Right?
Wrong. “Nice one.” Jeno says out of the blue, carefully pushing the wall of beads aside so he can join his coworker in the break room.
He didn’t even hear the man approach the break room, or even the familiar chime of the front door, for that matter. It’s a small space as it is, made even tinier with the addition of his coworker. The chiropractor leans casually against the wall with crossed, beefy arms, unintentionally interrupting Yangyang’s free time– and the path of a sandwich to his mouth. There’s a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth, amusement written all over his face.
“Thanks.” Yangyang replies, bouncing an unbothered shoulder, and raising his sandwich to take a comically large bite.
Jeno leans down to retrieve the foil ball as the other male chews, gently balancing it atop the teetering trash pile. “So I heard that you were able to see one of my regular clients the other day.” He starts, delicately weaving his way into an entirely different topic of conversation.
Most likely the one he came here to begin in the first place.
“Hm? I did?” The silver haired man answers after he chokes down a swallow. With a tilt of his head, he lowers his stack of bread, bologna, cheese, and mayonnaise pensively. When he doesn’t get an immediate response, he impatiently moves to lift it back in the direction of his slacked jaw.
“Yeah. I’m not too sure why she didn’t contact me first, though.” The chiropractor starts, rubbing at the invisible stubble on his freshly shaved chin. He flashes Yang a white row of teeth, “I told her I would ask you to give her a discount.”
The nail tech comes to a jerky halt, mouth still hanging open to welcome in the food as all the pieces slide into place. Well, it’s more of a fucking slam than a slide at this point. Jeno. Discount. You. With your long legs and black pumps, sauntering into his shop after a long day at work and asking him for a discount.
The discount was a thing? Like, a real, legitimate thing? Shit, Yangyang honestly thought that “discount” was an innuendo for sex. That you were just too shy to outright ask him to fuck you, so you went about it in a roundabout way.
Suddenly armed with the new knowledge, the picture he has of his handiwork, tucked away within the hidden folder of his cellphone, weighs heavily in the pocket of his sweats.
A picture he’s looked at countless times since that evening. A memory that never fails to have his dick stirring. That particular photo, as well as the things he did with you, to you, has lived in the back of his mind…
Yet now he somewhat feels as though he’s taken advantage of you and your situation. Only somewhat. But even with that revelation, he feels reluctant to erase that image from his gallery.
Because erasing that would feel too much like erasing you.
A fat glob of mayo falls from his half-eaten sandwich, hitting the table of the break room with a tiny, but still audible, sound. “Wait, there really was a discount?”
#yangyang smut#neotherapy updates#nct smut#wayv smut#nct u smut#kpop smut#yangyang x reader#liu yangyang#reader insert#kpop fanfic
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© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).
LONG FICS
rock, paper, scissors ; 11k — johnjaenomin fivesome [s]
— five friends rent a house together for a few weeks to enjoy summer like they used to do when they were younger, thinking that nothing could change their friendship. But teasing leads to pent-up tension and tension leads to problems. Problems that can’t be fixed by playing ‘rock, paper, scissors’ like when they were young.
can you handle it? ; 12k — johnjaenomin fivesome part 2 [s]
— Johnny drags her wildest fantasies out of her mouth, or to be more precise, out of her phone. But can she handle it?
rose-colored glasses ; 18k — requested | bet!au [a] [s]
— a long-lasting crush for her brother’s best friend, a bet, obsession, devotion and jealousy; all things that cannot lead to anything good. But the world that Jeno showed her was perfect and she couldn’t see what it really hid behind the rose-colored glasses. It was all distorted.
shattered glasses ; 28k — rose-colored glasses sequel | yandere [s] [f] [a]
— there’s only one way to survive in a cage made of rose-colored glasses: don’t shatter the glasses, reality will be painful to accept.
10 things I love about you ; 3k — requested | [f] [a]
— she feels like Jeno’s only dating her for sex, and he proves to her how much he loves her by telling her ten of the things he loves about her the most (spoiler: they are more than ten).
wrapped around your fingers ; 8k — requested | CEO!au [s] [f]
— Jeno finds out he has his girlfriend wrapped around his fingers... well, in a way he doesn’t quite expect.
drippin’ ; 18k — requested | x reader | haemarknomin fivesome [s]
— you need relief from this strange pain you’re feeling, but you don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend and his friends offer to help, giving you a solution you didn’t quite expect coming.
into the woods ; 11k — inferno event | werewolves (feat kun, jaehyun, johnny, yangyang) [s]
— ‘don’t go in the woods, past the first two rows of trees.’ It’s a simple rule, planted in every kid’s mind in the village since they are born. Nobody knows why, but nobody dares to question why. But pride leads to do dangerous things and what’s supposed to be a silly bet to prove something, gets you lost a bit too far into the scary forest. And those who seem to be polite strangers turn out to be something they’re not.
sweet lies ; 7k — inferno event | ghost [s]
— you find out what’s the weird sensation that’s been torturing you for years, but just when you think things start to make sense, he confuses you even more. Are you really who he thinks you are?
sweet deception ; 19k — inferno event | x reader | various monsters, multiple members [s]
— on Halloween, nothing is as it seems. You end up in a room with six guys thinking they have amazing costumes only to be struck by reality when it’s too late; those are not costumes at all. But remember, on October 31, nothing is as it seems.
enough for you ; 5k — requested | traitor sequel + haechan [a] [f]
— all she ever wanted was to be enough for Haechan, even now that they aren’t together anymore. Until someone opens her eyes and makes her realize that she is already enough the way she is.
happier ; 20k — requested | enough for you sequel + haechan [a] [f] [s]
— Haechan can’t live with the weight of losing her forever, he can live even less with the fear that she might be happier with Jeno. He wonders if he’s still in time to fix what he tore apart or if he’ll have to pay the price for what he did forever.
wait for me ; 6k — gift | sequel | x reader [s]
— jeno keeps his promise of turning you into a mess under him
secret ; 10k — gift | sub!jeno | x reader [s][f]
— jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you
do you want to play a game, detective? ; 10k — ghostface/scream!au [s]
— in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again. Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him.
SERIES
SOUR — COMPLETED
distorted — COMPLETED
DRABBLES
nipple sucking— requested | x reader [s]
phone sex + innocence kink — requested | x reader [s]
villain!jeno + rough anal sex — requested | x reader [s]
shibari + hard!dom + toys — requested | x reader [s]
vampire!jeno x human!reader + sweet love making — requested | x reader [s]
game over — gamer!haechan + mark, jeno, jaemin | requested | x reader [s]
insecure reader — requested | x reader [f]
insecure jeno — requested | x reader [f]
fingers sucking — requested | x reader [s]
sub!jeno — requested | x reader [s] (it's more like a blurb but longer)
subspace — requested | x reader [s]
BLURBS / HARD HOURS
nominhyuck humiliation + filming [s]
nominhyuck humiliation [s]
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wants n’ kneads (teaser) ♡ njm x reader
— part of the neo therapy collection (18+)
teaser word count: 1.9k+
pairing: masseuse!jaemin x reader
genre: f x m, smut, crack
summary: the stress of the office has caught up to you once again. in fact, it came back so strong your back has given out ten times worse than before.
as if things couldn't get any worse, jeno’s out of town. with your trusty chiropractor missing in action, circumstance leads you to the front door of neo therapy’s late night masseuse.
jaemin's not the friendliest nor the most talkative, so your utter confusion makes complete sense when his fingers find themselves knuckle-deep in your pussy halfway through the massage.
teaser warnings/content: no smut but mc gets naked + the touching gets very suggestive, mean & cold jaemin, black hair nana superiority, features of characters/references to prior to this part, as always poor mc bites off more than she can chew </3
author’s note: back to the grind! our taglist is very much open, and it’d mean the world if you’d be interested in being tagged in this fic along with future installments by both monnie and i :) those who have already joined will be tagged once the full fic is uploaded
prev | masterlist
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You’ve never been to a massage parlor before, much less a private practice in of itself. It’s jarring, the single spa table smack dab in the middle of the poorly lit room. Under a different circumstance, you’d laugh at the obvious similarity it has to Jeno’s ‘spinal stabilizer table,’ but you’re still a bit bitter at him for how he spoke to you during your call with him.
Everything else is barely illuminated by the two white candles that rest atop the decorative stands at either side of the bed. The source of the sound of flowing water can be appointed to the office-sized bamboo fountain, plopping up and down with each round. A wall-drilled shelf that carries a whole array of oils, perfume bottles, and house plants alike– Na Jaemin seems to be as put together as he looks. There’s even a well-loved money tree at the corner of the room.
God, this was so last minute. Looking down at your breasts, you had completely run out of the house with your blandest bra. But did that even matter? How much were you even supposed to take off when getting a massage? The guy didn’t even specify, and it’s not like you could ask him anyway– he was unapproachable as all hell, what with that stinky glare of his.
God, this was so last minute. Looking down at your breasts, you had completely run out of the house with your blandest bra. But did that even matter? How much were you even supposed to take off when getting a massage? The guy didn’t even specify, and it’s not like you could ask him anyway– he was unapproachable as all hell, what with that stinky glare of his.
God, this was so last minute. Looking down at your breasts, you had completely run out of the house with your blandest bra. But did that even matter? How much were you even supposed to take off when getting a massage? The guy didn’t even specify, and it’s not like you could ask him anyway– he was unapproachable as all hell, what with that stinky glare of his.
You decide to go with your gut and keep on your camisole that you’ve worn underneath, and shortly your pencil skirt follows with a flick of the buckle and an unzip. Stepping out from the fabric that’s pooled around your feet, you dispose of your signature heels right after. Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you feel just a bit self conscious. You aren’t naked, but you feel way too bare for someone you barely know. At least Yangyang had gone out of his way to make you feel welcome in his salon, no matter how overzealous or eager he was.
Now you were really overthinking things. It’s just business, Jaemin is probably more than used to this by now.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Ready?” Jaemin calls from behind the oak wood door, and you’re now scrambling to sloppily fold your clothes and toss them onto the closest elevated surface.
“Ah, yeah! Hold on just a second!” Flopping under the thin sheet that has been provided on top of the massage table, you topple over face down and dig your face into the hole that’s left for you to breathe out of. Shimmying and securing your bottom to make sure that your ass cheeks wouldn’t be outright in his face, you deem yourself as physically ready as you can for your massage. Mentally though? That was another story. “Okay! You can come in now!”
The screech of the door is blaring as it invades your ears, and the padding of footsteps has you biting your cheek in something akin to apprehension. You can’t see, but in seconds you can feel his presence next to you. He has an unwelcoming and cold aura that is tacit even without looking at him.
You don’t know what you were expecting. A run down of what entails in this luxury package, maybe? But instead you feel a finger hook against the protective sheet that covers your body, pulling it down just past your shoulders. The unanticipated action makes you jolt slightly, especially when you feel the surface of his knuckle just barely caress the top of your spine.
“I thought you said that you were ready?” Is all he says, and the confusion has you pushing yourself up from the bed and twisting yourself to look at him.
That same bored expression is present on his face, and it kind of bothers you. “I… am?”
He groans, glaring at you like you’ve failed to follow some basic instructions that even the most simple minded person could. The hand that was at your back earlier travels around your front where you’re bent to face him, and it’s now looping around the spaghetti strap of your undershirt. “You’re still wearing clothes.” He deadpans. Pulling the strap along with his knuckle, he carelessly lets it snap against your skin, causing you to recoil in shock. You’re spared not even a second when he grabs at the sheet to reveal yourself and your modesty to his gaze. “You did get the deluxe package, yes?”
The minimal source of light makes him appear all the more threatening, his eyes shadowed and voided under the black strands that fall just a little over his brows. Absurdly broad shoulders and a thick neck that support a strikingly gorgeous face, quirked to the side with lowered lids. You weren’t able to pinpoint it then, but you can now: Jaemin intimidates the fuck out of you.
“I did.” You confirm.
“Then take the rest of these off,” He huffs, discarding the sheet onto you once again, and you’re flailing against it when it catches against your limbs awkwardly. “You took so long I thought you’d be done by now, but you’ve already cut into five minutes of your session already.”
“Five?” You stammer, completely appalled by how ridiculously picky he’s being. “But you haven’t even started yet!”
“Time is money, and I don’t have a second to waste,” He retorts, tapping his foot impatiently with every beat of inaction you commit to. “Now if you don’t want to cut any further into either of our time and want me to get started, I suggest you do things properly.”
Now he’s just being an asshole. “Fine,” You say, crossing your arms under the hem of your undershirt before ripping it off and tossing it at his shoes pettishly. “Let’s just get this over with. I’d hate to waste your oh so precious time,” The action makes the skin of his cheek hollow, and he’s kicking the article of clothing to the side as if it’s tainted his precious YSL’s. You tut at his blatant rudeness. Pretentious prick.
The intimidation is replaced with so much fury that you can’t stop yourself from keeping your mouth shut– “Even if I’m the only one who’s actually giving you business tonight. Your schedule was looking quite empty.”
“Excuse me?” He begs your pardon as you turn away from him, missing the way he licks his lips when you turn away to unclasp your bra.
“Stole a look at your planner when you let me in,” You mutter as the beige piece falls steadily from your shoulders, covering your breasts with your forearm so you don’t flash him a nipple. “Looks like I was your only appointment this whole day? I’m guessing Jeno wanted me to come here to help you keep the lights on.”
“You’re awfully cheeky,” He growls, his growing irritation is more than apparent, and it brings you some satisfaction that you’re able to get a rise out of him. “Service providers like us have slow days, too. I have plenty of clients, so don’t act like a know-it-all.”
“With the ‘service’ you provide,” You say with air quotes, giving his stance a quick once over up and down. “It’s hard to imagine you get any customers at all. Not with this attitude, at least.”
It seems that the cat’s gotten his tongue when he doesn’t respond, and you take great pride in your small victory. You allow a smirk to take over your features before you go to lay flat down onto the bed. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to warrant such behavior, but maybe that’s why you have three stars on Yelp.” But just as your nipples graze the cool black leather of the surface, a large hand grips at the nape of your neck to stop you. “Wha–”
“What’d I say about keeping conversation to a minimum?” He quirks a brow at you, the thumb of his hand digging deeply into the side of your neck, but instead of pain you feel an odd sense of relief when he draws rough circles into the spot. You involuntarily curl into the touch, a hitch of breath betraying your urge to bite at him. “See? All this talking has kept you from getting what you need.”
Dropping your head onto the cushion lazily, you let both of his hands travel down the expanse of your back. His touch is adhered by the clothed boundary, a benign yet teasing reminder of your blissful ignorance to what’s expected in a massage. Pressure is applied onto the tightest knots of your back, and as they unwind you find that Jaemin is assessing your reactions with every movement. A glide of the bottom of his palm here, a knead of the flat of his knuckles along your shoulder blade there. Lower and lower he travels, and your eyelashes fall over like a curtain coming to a close, sleep threatening to overtaking your senses–
“You forgot one more.” He lilts with a handful of your ass, giving an experimental squeeze that has you instinctively grabbing at his forearm. Your jaw drops at not only the audacity but the strained vein that trails up the bare skin, completely missing him rolling his sleeves on before getting to work on you.
“What are you talking about?” You splutter, making eye contact where your bottom and his grasp meet, and you’d be a fool to deny that the contact has a bout of heat traveling from where it begins to your ears.
Completely disregarding your pitiful state, that blank stare now morphed to an amused face that reeks of complacency. Jiggling and palming at the flesh as if to add onto your embarrassment, he answers as if it was clear as day. Sneaking around the white cloth that served to protect you, he tugs at the hem of your panties, specifically at the crotch.
“I told you to take the rest off,” He shakes his head, tugging upward so that it scrunches up against your folds. “You ordered the deluxe package, which requires you to be completely naked. I can’t work with this.”
“But I thought–”
“You want to feel better, right?” He croons, lips puckering into a pout as he watches you squirm against him. “Don’t you?”
After the horrible week you’ve had, the shit that your supervisor put you through, and now the way Jeno treated you– Jaemin is right. You just want to drown out everything that’s happened and fall into utter relaxation.
“Let me take these off?” He asks, tracing the curve of your cheek. When you give him a terse nod, you receive your very first smile from him. Though it’s a bit disingenuous, something in your gut telling you that he may or may not have your best intentions in mind. It somehow exhilarates you though, his unpredictability keeping you on your toes for what he’ll do next.
“That was just a glimpse of the session,” His voice lulls you in like a pied piper when he slides the fabric down your legs, beckoning you to follow him into the deepest depths of pleasure. You grant him room to let it slide past your ankles, and you’re now laid completely bare for him to see. “I guess I can be generous and add an extra few minutes to your session.”
A pleased hum sounds behind you, and you peek over your shoulder to catch his bottom lip caught between his teeth, ogling your now visible folds. It’s as if he wishes to show you that luxury doesn’t need to stop at relief, that there’s something beyond the fixture. He was going to show you pure delight.
“Let me show you why every second counts.”
#nct smut#na jaemin smut#jaemin#nct dream smut#nct dream#na jaemin#jaemin x reader#kpop smut#kpop#kpop fanfic#nct fanfic#fic teaser#jaemin drabble#jaemin hard thoughts#jaemin fanfic#nct
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I know this is a very vague request and im really sorry in advance 😭… do you think you could write some headcanons/reactions for wayv? I noticed that most nct content is for dream, sometimes 127, and rarely my wayv boys and i LOVE them 😮💨, i dont really have a concept in mind i would prefer if it was made with a female reader in mind but gender neutral works just as well, and idk maybe a little bit suggestive if youre in the mood for it?? Idk anyways thanks for listening and im sorry im not giving you much to work with :)
+ OMG OK I JUST SENT IN A VAGUE REQUEST FOR WAYV BUT I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING NOW, idk if you’ll see this but do you think you could do wayvs reaction to a female reader whos more dominant, not necessarily in the bedroom sense (although that too) but just someone who looks more feminine but automatically takes on more masculine gender roles in a relationship like being big spoon, or bringing home the bag, or being the one to take care of things and fix things? Again i don’t necessarily mean in a sexual way just more in a general relationship because i know you said you werent confident/comfortable writing nsfw stuff, but if you wanted to take a more suggestive route too i wouldnt be mad, youre the writer here, im just here to support 💗, thank you again!
A/N - Not me having a whole-ass brain fart on gender roles as I wrote this🤪but ohhhohoo I love this idea!!! I'm sorry it took forever :( also some of these are longer than others, I apologize. But I still hope you enjoy 💛 Thank you for the request, Love!
WORDCOUNT - 1,165
WARNINGS - F!reader, suggestive if you squint from the other side of the galaxy??
Kun
you had told him that you were quite independent from the beginning of your relationship
perhaps you hadn't been persuasive enough, or it didn't register in Kun's head...
because when he comes home from tour, he doesn't expect to find you in the kitchen, cursing under your breath with your head ducked beneath the sink
it appears you're too busy groveling at the plumbing to notice his presence, the clanking of metal on metal hitting his ears
"What... are you doing?" is followed by a thud! and another hushed curse as you emerge from the cabinet, rubbing at the crown of your head with a grimace
you're met with warm hands and a concerned gaze as you straighten up, adjustable wrench in your grip
"The shut-off valve for the cold water failed," you wipe the sweat from your brow, eyeing the small space you have to work with under the sink, "so I went and picked up replacements for both."
and Kun's just standing there like 'woah, babe, go off'
but also a little worried
cue the "shouldn't we call a plumber", and the "are you sure's"
it's not that he believes you're incapable, far from it!
he's just got no clue about the tricks of that trade lmao
asks if you need help
will literally sit by and watch like a curious Retriever whether you need extra hands or not (without being in the way, of course)
he has no idea where your confidence comes from when it comes to these types of things, but it's kinda... 😏
you finish the job in two hours, checking for any leaks after you turn the water back on and let the water flow through the pipes to clear the air in the lines
after this, he quickly adapts to you taking lead around the house with similar things
he's so used to being the leader/taking lead on so many things that it's so refreshing for him.
you're just the type to say "Hey, I've got it!" with no expectations
he's gonna find his ways of thanking you for the things you do btw
cooking you dinner, cleaning the entire house, buying you something you've been eyeing for forever.
also lives and breaths you cuddling him
back hugs, waking up to you pulling him back into your arms before you're both falling asleep again
this man is so content being little spoon if it means you're right there
Ten
totally into it!
I'd bet that this man goes full doting boyfriend
probably the most curious out of all the guys
would be super invested if you were an HVAC technician or something just because of how physically demanding the job is
asks you if he could tag along to work one day like an excited child
to which you tell him that it's not as exciting for him to watch considering most of the job is you crawling into tight spaces
like you'd literally be in some dusty attic, sweltering as you work
it happens anyways, because you find that your HVAC unit is outdated, so naturally, you choose to update it yourself
cue a sneaky head peeking around the corner every chance he gets because, contrary to what you had said, Ten is very entertained
the man has the biggest heart eyes for you through the entire process - which is roughly 6 hours
"your attention to detail is beyond admirable!"
"I'd say it's necessary when I'm working with electrical, Babe."
wants to learn how to do whatever it is you're working on
doesn't matter what it is you're doing
soaks up whatever you teach him
mans is a whole sponge istg
at the same time he's absolutely gonna tell you to keep being the boss-ass bitch that you are
WinWin
supportive but a lil insecure :(
like he loves you loads, supports you 100% in all that you do
but sometimes it'll make him feel like he's not doing enough in terms of your relationship
I don't see the insecurity coming from your confidence of taking on a more masculine role, but more out of worrying that his time is so limited with you and around the house so when he is home, he feels like it's not enough
feels like he shouldn't tell you at first
like it sounds a little like an excuse to be an ass
but eventually thinks it's the best thing for your relationship
y'all take communication so seriously so why start holding back over something like this
you're quick to reassure him that he does more than enough
like sir, sit down and kick your feet up, you literally do so much for me, I will write you a whole list rn
it works to a certain extent, so you offer him some options "to make up for it" cough I'll leave this up to interpretation💀
fair to say that all is better with a little communication
Xiaojun
I say this solely for his safety and benefit
do not, under any circumstances, let this man know you can do some of the things that you're capable of!!
boy is too petty and competitive to have this knowledge
I feel like he'd be the type to see you so confidently take care of yard work and the next week turns into a competition of who can complete said tasks better
he wouldn't do it to make you feel less than, or to put you in your place (as if you wouldn't set his ass straight)
he's just a little dramatic
a lil competitive
he loses almost every time 😔
either makes excuses for it ("I didn't know there were levels to the lawn mower", "the handle on my rake was broken") or stays quiet
will be whiny for a few days afterwards
you have no issue giving him something to whine about-
Hendery
full cheerleader mode!!
he literally grew up with three sisters, ain't no way he's gonna be against a strong and independent woman doing her thing
is the best assistant when you need an extra set of hands
literally the kid that holds dad's flashlight while dad fixes the car except you don't have to remind him to hold it steady
he's on top of it, baby 😎
mans takes this as seriously as performing open-heart surgery
I'm talking brows set in concentration and hands as steady as my granny threading a needle (that woman was so talented)
tools are in your hand before you've even finished telling him what you need
bro is just that good
loves helping you to the point that when you don't need his help, he's just a pouty boy in the corner
like Kun and Ten, he'll just watch and cheer you on in those instances
he is the ultimate ally
YangYang
I could see him drawn toward a woman who takes initiative in a relationship
probably finds it attractive as hell
at the same time, I could see him not caring much about traditional gender roles
sees it as a social construct that is meant to be broken
he digs how dynamic you can be in any situation, definitely!
that said, he is the reason you fix so many things 🧍🏻♀️
listen, him being your boyfriend does not guarantee your safety from The Menace™
feels bad about it sometimes
but like... you never complain
YangYang swears he's a magnet for finding patient people that can tolerate his antics
which is exactly why he's wrapped around your finger
MASTERLIST
#wayv#nct wayv#wayv x f!reader#wayv headcanons#nct#nct headcanons#wayv x reader#wayv reactions#wayv scenarios#wayv kun#wayv ten#nct reactions#nct scenarios#wayv imagines#nct imagines#nct x reader#nct x f!reader#wayv yangyang#wayv hendery#wayv xiaojun#wayv winwin#x f!reader#f!reader#quokkawritings🌻
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M.LIST
『WELCOME TO ACE'S CAVERN』
a (angst), f (fluff), s (smut), m (mature), c (crack/humor), v (violence)
『NCT DREAM』
↳ SCENARIO 1 - Mark Lee x gn!reader
(S)
wc; 1,073
Anon said 'imagine giving mark head when he's playing games tho' and i ran with it
↳ (NEW!) HOW YOU LOVE HIM - Mark Lee x Reader
based on an ask.
(F,S)
wc; 1,734
ask: 'thinking about taking care of mark after his schedules with warm bath and massages…started all soft until mark gets hard and it turns into a steamy bathroom sex'
↳ QUIET - Lee Jeno x Fem!Reader - College au (ft. nct dream)
(S,C)
wc; 2,329
When the night gets cold whilst camping with your friends, Jeno knows a great way to warm up or It's fucking in-tents
↳ GAME OVER - Lee Jeno x Fem!reader - College au - Add on to 'Quiet', (ft. nct dream, mentions of ten, hendery, xiaojun, johnny, jaehyun.)
(S, F, C, light A)
wc; 2,698
When your boyfriend invites you over to his place only to ignore you to play games with his friends all evening, you decide to go out and celebrate a mutual friend’s birthday instead. Jeno never minds when you go out to clubs and bars… only when a specific Loverboy doesn’t tend to leave your side all evening.
↳ SET ME FREE (TEASER) - Intern!Mark Lee x Mermaid!Reader - Set in the College au universe. (ft. brief mentions of nct dream, Minho from shinee is a professor) CANCELLED
(F,A,M)
wc; tbc
After managing to score an internship with a local science program, Mark soon discovers that the company he chose to work for does more harm than good. Especially, when he stumbles across the tank where you're held captive by your makers whilst trying to find the canteen. Mark sneaks in to sit with you every lunch break after that whilst he tries to devise a plan to set you free.
↳ OPERATION RIZZ - Na Jaemin x Fem!Reader - Set in the college au universe. (Ft. Yangyang, Haechan, Johnny, Jeno, and mentions of other nct members, nct dream are the friend group, the Jeno and his girlfriend mentioned are the same pairings from Quiet and Game over!)
(F,A,C)
wc; 7.8k
In an attempt to teach Donghyuck how to get a girlfriend, Jaemin helps him make a list only... that list seems awfully familiar.
『NCT 127』
(NEW!) ↳ END TO START - Soulmate!Johnny x Soulmate! reader, Taeyong x reader ( focus). ( Ft Mark, Jungwoo, Ten, Jaehyun, Taeil, Yuta. Mentions Jaemin once.)
(A,F,M)
wc; 4.9k
Taeyong had been perfectly happy to sit back and watch you and Johnny be together. However, when he starts to notice certain behaviors that are all too familiar, he finds himself unable to watch you slowly die. Just because Johnny may not love you anymore... doesn't mean Taeyong doesn't love you either.
『ATEEZ』
↳ (NEW!) Where are you, San? - San x fem! reader
(f, s, m)
wc; 4,825
Genre: Pure smut. No plot whatsoever. There is a sprinkling of fluff if you squint?
Synopsis: Your boyfriend invites you to the fancy dress party his frat are holding to celebrate the frats birthday. Only, nobody will tell you what he's dressed as. When you spend half of the party searching for him, Jongho gives away his location.. you're in for a night of fun. One question though, Do you like scary movies?
warnings: smut, smut,smut. Ghostface!San, Velma!reader. Rough sex, unprotected sex, Knife play ( WITHOUT cutting reader. The knife isn't sharp enough for skin), praise, degradation, manhandling, sex in a treehouse, reader's hands get tied, Reader has her view restricted, everything is consented, established relationship, light choking from behind?, reader gets carpet burn. I'm not sure if I've missed something.
↳ BLURB 1 - Song Mingi x gn!reader
( F )
wc; n/a
↳ PRAYER FOR HALATIA - OT8! x Fem!reader - Apocalyptic au, survival.
( A,M,V ) PT 1
multiple parts - on hold
Halatia, incorporates an appreciation for people, a love of music and the arts, and a high regard for nature, its mysteries and beauties.
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I've been so inactive and I hate it!! I think t he last fic I read was about jaehyun and yn and they'd f in random places hahahah - can u make a post of your current updates so that i can binge over the weekend? x
Oh man lol if the fic you're talking about is one of mine, then I think you're talking about I Know a Place, and that's been quite a while, but starting with that part one of that series:
Taeil
A Little Drunk On You - friends to lovers
workplace (mis)conduct - office/ceo au
Johnny
Snowed In - threesome w/ Hendery
A Cure for Nerves - ceo/boss au
I’m Glad We Met - strangers to friends to lovers
My Everything - cuckholding & voyeurism w/ Jaehyun
Taeyong
Last Christmas - friends to lovers
What I Need - threesome w/ Doyoung
Eros & Psyche - anonymous sex (strangers to fuckbuddies to friends to lovers)
Yuta
Going for the Gold - uni au
golden - piss kink *beware*
Kun
Oh, Baby - established relationship
Dinner & Dessert - free use/rough sex, established relationship
kinda hot though - sweat kink & public sex
Doyoung
Hungry for You - best friend’s brother au
Round&Round - established relationship
Supervision Required - threesome w/ Jeno
What I Need - threesome w/ Taeyong
a means to an end - enemies to lovers, uni au
Ten
Like Home - non-idol au, bisexual Ten & bi reader, strangers to lovers
good hurt - pain kink
Jaehyun
I Know a Place - Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - exhibition kink
while you were sleeping - somnophilia/sleep sex kink, friends to lovers
In Your Arms - threesome w/ Mark, bisexual Jaehyun & Mark
My Everything - cuckholding & voyeurism w/ Johnny
WinWin
Everything Has Changed - best friends to lovers
Babymoon - pregnancy kink
A Win-Win Situation - sugar daddy WinWin au
Jungwoo
Long Flight - strangers to lovers
ignite me - uni au
playing favorites - threesome w/ Haechan
Mark
Watch Me - voyeurism, strangers to friends to lovers
positions - breeding kink, established relationship
In Your Arms - threesome w/ Jaehyun, bisexual Jaehyun & Mark
Xiaojun
a taste of you (darling) - bookstore au, slowburn(ish), cheesy romance
dark side of the moon - chef au, knife play
Sweet Treat - cumplay, threesome w/ Hendery
Hendery
Snowed In - threesome w/ Johnny
morally grey area - uni professor/student au
Sweet Treat - cumplay, threesome w/ Hendery
Renjun
All I Ever Wanted - best friends to lovers
annoyingly cute - coworkers to lovers
meet me on the rooftop - exhibitionist idol Renjun
Backstage - you're both idols, exhibition kink
Jeno
Just So You Know - friends to love triangle, threesome w/ Jaemin
Supervision Required - threesome w/ Doyoung
Teddy Bear - size kink
Haechan
New Territory (expedition: you) - friends to lovers, questioning sexuality
Movie Star - established relationship, sex tapes
playing favorites - threesome w/ Haechan
Jaemin
Just So You Know - friends to love triangle, threesome w/ Jaemin
quiet down - established relationship
the babygirlification of na jaemin - bottom jaemin, top fem!reader
YangYang
Guilty Pleasure Series - Guilty Pleasure || Love on the Low Low - yangyang w/ a noona kink
time out - enemies to lovers
Pillow Princess - established relationship, slightly sub!yangyang
Shotaro
kiss kiss (fall in love) Series - Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - uni au, friends to lovers
감이 오지? (Can You Feel It) - dom!shotaro
Multiple Members
J.Crew - orgy/gangbang with Johnny, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Jeno, and Jaemin
Love Daze - sex pollen orgy with Kun, Ten, and YangYang
Unholy Series - supernatural au w/ Yuta, Ten, WinWin, Mark, and others
Full Masterlist is right here
#asks#nct smut#nct fics#a comprehensive list of everything i've posted over the last like year and some change
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oppa vs gege vs daddy kink in wayv??🤔🤔
you sent this so long ago babe im sorry </3
kun/xiaojun/yangyang x f!reader, smut, “daddy”, 18+ minors dni
౨ৎ kun
like…..duh…. he can restrain himself well from bringing up the whole daddy thing, not wanting to overstep or bring it up before he knows his girl wants it. so when you’re pushing on his chest with your hands to keep your shaking body upright, meeting his dark gaze with pupils blown wide and tears streaking your cheeks mumbling “da-…. da…” he knows he has you right where he wants you.
his hands are cupping your hips as he drags you back and forth over his thick cock, strained groans on the verge of sobs leaving his chest as your tiny cunt squeezes him, “there she is. tell daddy what’s wrong, baby.” kun’s fingers work over your body to overstim you, pinching and pulling at your nipples, pushing on your tummy until your slick gushes around his length.
making a pretty girl cum on his cock is what he lives for, holding you to his chest as your high wracks your body. you can barely hear his low voice in your ear as you drool into his neck, chanting a broken, whimpered string of “daddy, daddy”
౨ৎ xiaojun
jun’s love language is obsession. he’s crazy for you, and as much as being ignored and teased by a pretty girl turns him on, his end goal is getting you just as crazy for him. he loves the chase, telling himself that one day you’ll need him like he needs you.
his body folds over you, his abdomen flexing and chest heaving with heavy breaths as he delivers deep, hard thrusts to your cunt. he loves the way you struggle against his grip on your wrists, your thighs squeezing around his waist. “s-say it. say it f’me, honey”
“fuck you”
he just flashes that pretty smile down at you, not missing how your mean words die in your throat as his thrusts grow rougher, the force inching your body up the mattress. he squeezes your jaw between his fingers, turning your face towards him and sighing out at your glassy eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips from his forceful kisses. “look at daddy, that’s right. my pretty girl”
౨ৎ yangyang
honestly, he likes whatever you like, because he’s in love with you. he knows it’s futile, drooling over someone else’s girlfriend - kun’s girlfriend no less - but with the way you look at kun, he can’t help but imagine you looking at him like that.
and when yangyang fists his cock to the sound of your moans on the other side of his bedroom wall, squeezing his eyes shut as he prays for kun to shut the fuck up, the best he can do is pretend your moans are for him.
his eyes snap open when he hears it, his body going rigid as his cock sits hard and heavy in his hand. but there’s no mistaking your fucked out whines, “please daddy, please”. yangyang’s hips buck, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and nearly drawing blood as he chokes back a sob. your broken mewls don’t stop while he fucks his fist through his high, abs tensing as he paints his chest with his own cum.
from then on it’s all he thinks about, unable to look you in the eye when you’re around, blood rushing to his needy cock when you’re so much as in the same room.
#asks#kun#qian kun#xiaojun#wayv#nct#kun smut#qian kun smut#xiaojun smut#dejun smut#kun x you#kun x reader#xiaojun x you#xiaojun x reader#dejun x you#dejun x reader#wayv smut#nct smut#wayv hard thoughts#wayv hard hours#nct hard thoughts#nct hard hours#yangyang#yangyang smut#yangyang x you#yangyang x reader
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strangers to lovers Renjun collection
I love Renjun. No, I mean it. And though I'm slowly starting to fill this hole of missing Renjun fics on this app, there can never be too many existing Renjun fics. I've also noticed a pattern in my writings for him, so please look forward to this little collection!
*drum rolls*
Yutasbellybuttonpiercing presents: a triology of Renjun fics that have nothing in common but the idol and their very, very rough theme!
Taglist: @she-is-dreaming @nctzennikki09
1. Love Station
pairing: Huang Renjun x reader
AU/genre: smut, humor, fluff, angst, comfort, strangers to roommates to friends to lovers...?, non-idol!AU, idiot(s) in love
estimated word count: 13.978 words
warnings: smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, making out under the influence, descriptions of toxic relationships, implied domestic violence, overthinking, mentions of masturbation, reader has nipple piercings, fingering (f receiving), mentions of squirting and free use, lowkey heartbreak, everyone is dramatic, mentioned past mxm oral, Haechan flirts too much
synopsis: Trying to heal wounds that an ex left can be hard on someone, especially when they're still trying to suppress their crush and be a good friend. It's especially hard when you're such a damn tease.
release date: posted!
——————————————————————————
2. What's x in the equation of love?
pairing: Huang Renjun x reader
AU/genre: humor, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, college!AU, roommate!YangYang, more tba
estimated word count: 5k - 10k words maybe?
warnings: tba
synopsis: YangYang decides that you need a tutor, he can't take your whining anymore. Hence, you're set up to meet the most perfect man you've ever seen. Things tend to become more complicated than they have to be.
release date: tba
——————————————————————————
3. App-grade your love life
pairing: Huang Renjun x reader
AU/genre: smut, humor, fluff, angst, strangers to enemies to lovers...?, non-idol!AU, best friend!Jaemin, best friend!Haechan
estimated word count: tba, but a lot
warnings: tba
synopsis: Renjun is a hopeless romantic, his goal is to meet his perfect match by the end of the year, maybe even his soulmate. The perfect solution: an experiment for finding love through an app. Renjun doesn't care who it is, as long as they're a perfect match, he thinks. But then you show up...
release date: tba
#neohub#renjun fic#renjun fluff#renjun smut#renjun angst#huang renjun fluff#huang renjun smut#nct dream smut#nct dream fic#nct smut#nct#kpop#smut#nct fanfic#kpop smut#nct dream#fem reader#nct x reader#nct fluff#huang renjun#teaser
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