#NCT 127 fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

primehyuck · 2 years ago

Text

dress

this is the hair, the face, etc

aka Mark thinks you look really pretty tonight (very “only bought this dress so you could take it off” / “can we hear it for the dress” esque )

word count: 3.5k

contents : pretty much pure smut, pussy worship, soft dom mark, oral (f receiving) , body worship - mark thinks you’re REALLY REALLY pretty, mirror sex (kind of), lots of pet names, established relationship, mark seduced me as i was writing this

“Don’t you look pretty?” Mark smirks at you from where he leans against the door frame and you smile softly at him in the mirror, taking off the jewelry you’d worn to dinner with your friends that evening. You place the items gently inside the white vanity he’d had made for you when you moved in together the year before.

“Thanks, baby.” you take him in, fresh out of the shower in sweats and a big t-shirt. He looks too hot for his own good, his hair the longest it had been since you’d met, freshly bleached strands curling over his eyes.

“Did you have fun?” He slinks up behind you, warm fingers toying with the thin strap holding your dress in place, his left hand shutting the top of the vanity before pressing heavy to the front of your hip.

You nod “It was nice to have some girl time, as much as I love spending evenings with the boys.” you scrunch your nose earnestly, thinking of Mark’s best friends who had treated you like family since day one.

“I’m glad, though you should have seen the look on Jisung’s face when he learned you’d be at dinner with your old roommate and he was stuck cooking for the rest of us” he murmurs and you can feel the smile on his face as he rests his cheek on your shoulder. The combination of his warm breath on your neck and thick lashes blinking over your skin makes you shiver “I was sad that I missed you before you left.”

“We ended up going for a cocktail before dinner,” you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair and he lets go of the dress strap to trace up the inside of your arm. Mark turns his head to press his lips to your shoulder, pretty brown eyes blinking at you in the mirror once before skimming down the reflection of your body.

His gentle fingers drifting over your arm make your skin tingle and you can hardly breathe when he grips your bicep firmly, supporting your arm as he kisses over the shape of your shoulder, all the way to your elbow and back up again.

“Is this new?” He mumbles, the hand on your hip moving to tug at the hem of your dress. You nod, and he smiles before guiding your raised arm down to rest at your side, fingers lacing through yours. You watch in the mirror as he drags his nose into the crook of your neck, tilting your head to the side to make space for him there.

“Pretty,” his eyes catch yours in the mirror again.

“You already said that.” you tease weakly, failing to keep your breathing under control.

“My bad,” Mark chuckles quietly, left hand stretching to rub your thigh, no effort needed to hike the short dress up enough to expose your panties “I mean, you look gorgeous. Good enough to eat.”

You're surprised your knees don't buckle when he shifts his hand between your thighs to cup your clothed core.

“You think?” You mumble, turning to face him rather than his reflection. He blinks slowly at you, nodding once before his lips are on yours.

His kiss fills your lungs and you both moan. The fingers that were warming your core finds your shoulder to spin you toward him without loosening his grip on your hand. He presses you against the vanity, free hand finding a home on the back of your neck while he brings your joined fingers down, rubbing over where his cock strains against his pants. Your dress rides up to your hips when he pushes your ass firmly onto the surface of the custom table, lanky fingers digging into your skin.

“You’ll have to let me take you somewhere in this, love showing you off” he mumbles against your lips before trailing his own over your chin and down your throat “somewhere I can fuck you while you're wearing it.” You feel his cock jump at his own words, arching your chest into him when he licks gently over the swell of your breast on display beneath the low cut neck of the dress.

“Anytime,” you gasp, the hand not pressed between your bodies pulling gently at his hair in an effort to bring his mouth to yours again. He complies easily, pushing your intertwined knuckles into your clothed pussy and you feel him rut against your forearm at the damp spot growing there.

“Shit, the thought of me fucking your perfect pussy in public turns you on that much?” He stops kissing you for a second to tease meanly before taking both of his hands away from your body and you have to plant yours on the vanity to stop your head from banging into the mirror behind you.

“I want you to fuck me now” you pout, reaching pathetically for the fabric of his baggy clothes, but he’s just out of reach. You huff at him, quickly going for your own dress.

“Be patient baby, please. You’ve been able to see yourself all night.” he tuts, having to step between your legs to hold your wrists still “let me spend some time with the dress, too.”

You whimper when he drags your hips to the edge of the sleek wood to grind you against him, “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

You take advantage of his hands being on your hips to wrap your fingers through his damp hair, dragging his mouth to yours. Mark’s hands are everywhere; pulling your dress up to your waist, leaving hot prints in the wake of his fingers, gliding over the skin of your thighs before hooking beneath your knees to keep your legs open. When you try to wrap your arms around his neck he easily pulls out of your desperate grasp, but you can see the wanton look in his heavily lidded eyes.

“Gonna make you feel as good as you look,” he rasps and you nod eagerly. His fingers drag over the straps of the dress before deciding against it, leaving your upper body covered “If that's even possible.”

He pulls you off of the vanity and guides you to the bed, keeping your body flush to his until he lays you back onto the mattress. The mirror hanging on the wall above the desk tilts down so you can see your reflection from the edge of mattress, the way Mark had specifically designed it.

“That’s better, want you to watch.” he smiles, glancing behind him to make sure the only part of yourself you can't see is what he's blocking with his own body as he drops to his knees between your legs. He rubs the heel of his palm into your clothed center, fingers digging into your pubic bone while he peppers kisses up your legs. His hand keeps your hips from bucking up when he licks heavily into the crease of your thigh before he moves his palm to press a wet, open mouthed kiss to your underwear. He sucks the fabric between his lips before his strong fingers pull your underwear up tight against your pussy to perfectly outline your already engorged clit and Mark’s cheek rests heavily where his mouth had just been on your thigh.

“Shit, baby.” he groans, stretching the fabric of your underwear in his fist, shifting it side to side and watching your lips move with it “I did this to you?” he asks gruffly, face sliding further up your leg until you can feel his breath on your soaked core.

You choke out a weak affirmation as he releases your panties, moaning when the stretched out fabric sticks to you. Your whole body shudders when he leans forward, nosing over your clit and inhaling deeply, dark lashes fluttering prettily against his cheeks.

“Mark, please-“ you gasp when he opens his mouth fully over you, dragging your panties away from your skin with his teeth and sucking at the ruined fabric.

Sometimes Mark feels a little pathetic between your legs, completely intoxicated, essentially trying to drink the taste of your pussy off of your underwear. The fact that he's so desperate for you, and yet he still has complete control never fails to inflate his ego, and as always it has his dick straining painfully against his sweats.

He moves the limp fabric to the side and uses two eager fingers to pull you apart, exposing your clit and Mark swears he sees it pulse, the idea making pre-cum leak from his dick like a broken faucet.

“Could stare at this pretty pussy all day,” he murmurs, not even looking up at you “but then I wouldn’t be able to taste it.”

You both let out sighs of relief when his tongue finally makes contact, laving over your wet folds. He moves urgently, wanting to touch you everywhere but settling with one hand palming gently over your inner thigh, the other keeping your hole open for his tongue to fuck into. When you open your eyes to look down you see his own closed gently, blissed out as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Your eyes flicker toward the mirror, gaze following the firm circles Mark is tracing into the skin of your thigh, the callouses from hours of guitar make goosebumps rise on your skin. You wish he’d take his shirt off, the black material stretches over his strong shoulders as he moves his mouth over your pussy. You lace your fingers through his blonde waves, his moan vibrating through you when you tug at his scalp. He moves his mouth over you with intention, wetting his chin and nose as he buries into you, never spending too much time in one spot in an effort to spend as long between your legs as possible.

“Fuck, baby, I’m already so close.” you gasp, the few minutes of teasing wound you up like a clock, the gentle flick of his tongue over your clit enough to make your entire body shake. He looks up at you, blonde curls getting caught in his lashes. The deep brown of his hungry eyes is almost enough to make you cum until he suddenly pulls away.

“No, no, no,” you wiggle yourself toward his mouth and he has to close his eyes for a moment to restrain himself, wanting almost nothing more than to make you cum on his tongue over and over and over.

“Needy girl,” he leans away from you and you whine again until you realize it’s to tug his shirt off and toss it to the side. Both hands press back into your legs as soon possible, rubbing over your shins and thumbing into the pit of your knee before gliding up your inner thigh.

“You’re teasing me.” you pant, your own hand threatening to sneak down to rub over your spit soaked clit but he stops you, glaring.

“I don’t think so, baby.” he deadpans “you can make this easy or you can make this hard.”

“I make you hard.” You smirk, attitude overpowering your need to orgasm and Mark tilts his head in surprise.

“You know eating your pretty pussy does more than just make me hard.” He raises an eyebrow, reminding you gently of all the times he’s cum from grinding into the mattress while going down on you “makes me fucking crazy.”

Your breathy laugh turns to a moan when he puts his mouth back on you, nose buried in your skin. He drapes your thighs over his bare shoulders and it takes what feels like less than a minute of his tongue rolling over your clit to get you right back to where you were. You groan angrily when he pulls away again.

“Why?” you can barely get the word out, feeling your legs move up as your boyfriend shrugs beneath them.

“I told you to watch” his arms reach from around the outside of your legs so one hand can push your chin, directing your eyes to the mirror while the other drifts over the soft silk of the dress that might as well be suffocating you. You watch the muscles in his back flex, your toes pointing to dig into his shoulder blades.

He follows your gaze, guiding your leg down onto the mattress and shifting his tosro out of the way so you can see yourself, swollen and wet from the torment of his mouth.

“Tell me what you see.” He commands softly, the hand supporting your leg moves quickly to rub over your soaked center and you blush when you realize you can hear his fingers gliding over you. You both watch the reflection of his middle and ring finger slowly pushing into you. You’re so wrapped up trying to keep your eyes from fluttering shut that you barely notice the way his breathing quickens, mouth dropping open slightly, cock twitching as your pussy sucks his fingers in.

“I see you-“ you begin to choke out but he shakes his head, crooking his fingers up into your g-spot and cutting you off.

“No baby, tell me what you look like.” He turns his head to kiss the thigh still draped over his shoulder, fingers hooking up and dragging over your g-spot at a painfully slow pace.

“I look, fucked,” you moan when he nibbles at the soft skin his lips just passed over “desperate.”

“Hmm, what else?” He dips his head in to press his swollen, pink lips to your clit, smiling when you squeak weakly “tell me what I want to hear, angel.”

“I look,” you whine again, back arching off the mattress when he takes his fingers out of your fluttering walls in favor of rubbing them over your clit, so gently you’re not even sure you’d be able to feel it if you weren’t so worked up “pretty.”

You watch the back of his head nod in agreement, stroking his fingers over your clit in a lazy circle before dipping down into you once and traveling back up.

“That’s right,” He coos, free hand groping at your tits, thumb brushing over your perked nipple as best as he can through the layers covering your upper body “what makes you so fucking pretty?”

“My mouth,” you whimper, relief washing through your body when he keeps his fingers inside of you “my tits,” your hand reaches to cover his and he smiles up at you, expectant eyes waiting for one more answer “my pussy. You make me feel so pretty, Mark.”

His chin and nose are covered in your slick, moaning at the taste when he licks over his lips, forehead falling weakly onto your pubic bone, rubbing his nose against your throbbing clit as he nods in agreement.

“My gorgeous girl, every part of you is too fucking pretty for me” He moves back to face your body again, taking his fingers from your pussy and replacing your knee over his shoulder, reaching up to meet his other hand on your chest. He palms at your breasts through the dress, shoulders breathing heavily beneath your legs while he curses himself for not at least taking your bra off, dying to tug at your nipples beneath the silky fabric. Sometimes his attempts to edge you become self-torturous, but the way your whole body shivers when he rubs his nose into your clit harder makes it worth it.

You test his patience by pushing at his head, trying to get his mouth back where you want it and he concedes, but let’s go of your breasts to traps both wrists in a single hand. His pink tinged cheeks make your heart skip a beat as you watch him rub his face in your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth eagerly before licking back down into your hole.

“Please, please, please,” you beg and he looks up at you with those pretty brown eyes when he hears your teeth chatter, pulling away with a moan that makes your back arch toward his mouth. He drops your wrists, unable to stop himself from palming over his pants, pre-cum forming a wet spot on the crotch almost as soon as he dropped to his knees for you.

“I got you, baby.” His voice is barely audible over the ringing in your ears. He uses the hand that isn’t on his dick to spread you as far apart as his fingers can manage “fuck, look at that pretty clit.” he’s sure of it now, your clit is literally pulsing, body begging for an orgasm that he can’t wait to taste. He glances up at your shivering figure, straps of your dress fallen off either shoulder, chest rising and falling dangerously quick.

A cool blow of air through his pursed lips surprises your system, entire body spasming as your orgasm hits. You think you hear your boyfriend’s “no fucking way” before his tongue starts fucking eagerly into your dripping pussy, pressure from his nose on your clit making sure the orgasm lasts so long you have to push him away.

“That was fucking incredible, I didn’t even touch you” Mark stands, stripping off his pants and forcing himself into you before you have the chance to take a breath.

“Oh my god,” you gasp at the same time he chokes out “so fucking tight”, making quick work in stripping you to rub his hand over your chest. His head falls back, mouth falling open when the aftershocks of your orgasm make you squeeze around him.

“Kiss, please.” you have pins and needles in your fingers when you lift them to his shoulders, pulling him toward you eagerly to catch his mouth. A sturdy hand cups your cheek, kissing you deeply as he begins to move his hips. His tongue is hot and heavy on yours as he fucks into you, catching every short inhale in his mouth. You want to cry when he pulls away, but are quickly overwhelmed by how fucking good he looks.

His strong chin juts out when he stares down to where his cock slides in and out of you with eyes so heavy you’d think they were closed if he didn’t mumble something about “your pretty pussy was made for me, so fucking wet”. His abs are drawn in tight, your arousal shining on the skin of his lower stomach and you reach out to touch him, dragging your fingers over the dark patch of hair growing below his belt line. He slows his assaulting pace to lean into your touch, grabbing your wrist and drawing your slick soaked fingers up his chest and into his mouth, sucking lewdly and shutting his eyes. His hair is a mess thanks to your desperate hands, sweat dripping down the side of his neck.

“So fucking dirty baby, know I'm addicted to the way you taste,” he grunts, dropping your hand in favor of spreading your legs as far as he can “the way you feel.” He slows his hips almost to a stop, dragging his cock out of you intently, listening to the sopping suction sound you make together when he slides back inside just as slow.

“Hear that, pretty baby, how much your pussy needs me?” eyes focused on where the angry, pink head of his cock prods at your entrance “can’t believe you’re real, and you’re all mine.”

“All yours,” you whisper, not trusting your voice “all yours.” his lips pull up smugly, but his eyes shine with adoration as he brings his thumb up to your mouth and watches you eagerly suck on the digit before dragging it down your quivering stomach to land on your clit.

“That’s right,” he can’t help the deep groan that tears from his chest at the look on your face when he starts to rub in smooth circles, your eyes fluttering shut “shit, you’re so fucking pretty. Look at yourself, want you to see what I see.”

He forces your eyes toward the mirror, hips picking up speed again while his thumb stays working over your swollen clit.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum baby. Always make me feel so fucking good.” you moan at his words, thighs clenching around his hips “need you to cum with me, show me that you can take it all.” he practically begs, and you feel white hot pleasure shoot up your spine, the pace of his hips and thumb on your clit working easily with his hot words in your ear.

You make a noise between a moan and a scream, nails leaving indents in his shoulders, grinding your hips up toward his sloppily. His bicep shakes under his weight, fucking into you viciously, eyes focused on the blissed out look on your face that he knows is because of him.

“That’s it, take that fucking cock baby, take it.” all you can hear beneath his words is static sound when you feel him tense before he thrusts into you for a final time.

You can’t even hold your eyes open when he drops to his forearms to grab your flushed cheeks, kissing you lazily, letting you melt into him while he softens inside of you. You hum happily when his soft lips drag over your nose and cheeks, compliments falling on ringing ears and for a second Mark is nervous that he broke you.

“You okay, baby?” he rubs gently at the mascara smeared under your glazed over eyes and you smile softly up at him with a nod

“So good,” you assure him, lifting your neck to kiss him again and he happily obliges, laughing against your lips as you cage him in with your legs when he tries to pull out, murmuring a genuine “don’t go.” that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“Not going anywhere, don’t worry.” he promises.

———

masterlist

#mark smut #mark lee smut #mark fanfiction #mark lee fanfiction #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream fanfiction #nct fanfiction #nct 127 fanfiction

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prodbymaui · 7 months ago

Text

Labyrinthine. — 이민형.

taking up a good rush, don't try to fight it

PAIRING: mark lee x reader

GENRE: popular girl and the loner

WORD COUNT: 1k+ words

WARNINGS: public sex (kinda), pure filth, degration kink

SYNOPSIS: You don't crumble at any man's words, but Mark Lee— God, Mark Lee.

A/N: hi, hello, officially welcome back to me I guess? aside from these short fic/filths in my drafts, I want to announce that I'm finally releasing my series (fr this time I promise)! so if you're interested, you can send an ask to be added to the taglist <3 enjoy reading!

“Mark—!”

The said man’s hand quickly covers your mouth, shushing you. His moist presses against your ear, whispering reminders about how any sounds that you make could possibly blow your cover— but the brutal pace and unforgiving thrusts of his hips does nothing to help you do so.

Keeping you in place, the A3 bookshelf of the library shakes as Mark Lee drills his cock in and out of your soaking pussy. The clutch you have on his arm tightens before flying to the air. There’s a surge of panic arising between the two of you when a book falls down, courtesy of your restless hands, and creates a thudding noise that you’re sure is enough to catch the attention of anyone inside the room. But alas, it only lasts for a second or two.

“Fuck.. you just can’t keep it down, don’t you?” Mark rumbles on your skin.

He grips the back of your thighs, turning you both around. Your back then meets the cold wood that makes up the table. It isn’t long before you yourself suppress the moans threatening to come out of your mouth, eyes rolling to the back as a drool rolls down from the corner of your lips. As Mark engulfs your body, shielding you from possible prying eyes that watches the both you fucking like rabbits inside the university’s library.

“Look at me,” He calls your name in a grunt.

Mark watches your face twist with pleasure—eyebrows drawn tight, lips parted, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to keep your gaze locked on his through the haze clouding your senses. A wave of pride flares within him, feeding off the tension between your ragged breaths and his unrelenting hold.

“So– good.. Mark, fuck, you’re so big.”

“Yeah? You like that? Like how big my cock is? Look at you,” He tips your chin, trapping it between his forefinger and thumb. “Drooling all over that pretty face with those nonsensical ramblings. I thought you don’t fuck with loners like me, babe? What was that you said in front of your friends?”

His thrusts come to an abrupt stop, and a desperate whimper escapes your lips as you instinctively wrap your legs tighter around his hips, pulling him closer. The sudden pause drives a surge of frustration through you, your body betraying you with silent pleas for more, each movement a wordless protest against the unbearable tease.

“No no no..” You mumble.

Mark chuckles, steadying your shaking head using the fingers that holds you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. The soft kiss turns into a messy one as Mark forcefully inserts his tongue in your mouth, exploring every surface— the taste of him clinging onto your tongue is a proof of your submission to him prior to being laid on the table, fucked out.

“Tell me, darling.”

Your hands scrambles at the thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock prodding your spot.

“What did you say earlier to your friends, huh? About me?”

Gasping for breath, your mind scrambles to process his question. You swallow hard, trying to recall the memory he’s referring to, but it’s futile. No matter how hard you search, everything is a blur—your thoughts muddled, leaving you unable to grasp anything coherent about what you said or did involving Mark before this moment.

Mark scoffs, his thumb slithers from your chin to the gap between your lips. As though a snake, it slides inside and lands your tongue. Wordlessly, you circle your tongue around the digit, licking it all wet before sucking it noisily, your eyes once again rolling to the back as your walls clenches around him.

The boys you’d been with always followed your lead, eager to please, prioritizing your satisfaction over their own. They were too intimidated by someone as desirable as you, treating it like a once-in-a-lifetime chance they couldn’t afford to ruin. You never allowed any of them to feel like they had the upper hand, even in the bedroom, moreover gave them the power to degrade you as a brainless cockslut.

But Mark Lee?

“Did I fucked you dumb? Or are popular girls like you already this dumb sans getting a taste of big cocks?”

God–

You’d let him degrade you anytime. The thought alone sends a thrill down your spine. You’d drop to your knees without a second thought, craving his approval, ready to do whatever it takes to satisfy him, no matter the time or place. The power he holds over you is intoxicating, and you'd willingly surrender to it, knowing that as long as he’s in control, you’ll get exactly what you need—no questions asked, no limits.

Who could have guessed that *four-eyed Mark*, the insufferable teacher’s pet and the quiet, bookish loner everyone overlooked, would be the one to make you crumble? The irony isn’t lost on you. The same guy you once barely noticed, always tucked away in the corner with his nose in a textbook, is now the one you can’t resist. His grip on you—both physical and mental—is undeniable, and the thought of how easily you’ve surrendered to him ignites something deep within. It’s almost laughable how the tables have turned, yet here you are, completely at his mercy.

As his words push you over the edge, your body trembles uncontrollably beneath him, each wave of pleasure making you quake in his arms. Mark tightens his grip around you, holding you steady as his pace gradually slows, savoring every second of your shared release. His head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, as he lets the intensity of the moment wash over him, matching the rhythm of your climax with his own. The room feels charged, heavy with the lingering heat between you both.

Finally, his movements still, and the two of you are left in the afterglow, breaths mingling as the world beyond seems to fade away. With a gentle sigh, Mark rests his forehead against yours, the quiet hum of satisfaction thick in the air. For a moment, neither of you speak—there’s no need. The unspoken connection hangs in the space between you, solid and undeniable, as everything else fades into the background.

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vad-hander · 25 days ago

Text

HIM

pairing: NCT Jaehyun x reader

others: Jaemin, Renjun, Taeyeon

genre: office!au, fluff, suggestive themes, some light angst, co-workers to lovers, romance, happy ending

warnings: language, alcohol, semi-public make out, pining

words: 8,5k

part 1 of 2, can be read as a stand alone fic

synopsis: Jaehyun's been your prime interest since the day he walked into your office three months ago. You finally get to meet him properly at a corporate party, as the evening unfolds, you discover that you share far more common ground than you'd thought. And as he walks you home afterwards, you find out you might be not the only one interested in that way.

----------

"Oh. I can't even look that way right now." Nari rolled her eyes, tapping your shoulder with a finger as she raised the glass to sip on her drink.

"Why?" You moved your eyes over the room flustered. It didn't strike you you were staring much - you thought you were pretty smooth. No longer than a second to look at him as you turned around to reach for a canapé. No longer than a moment of your eyes on him as you looked for an unfinished bottle of champagne. You must've not been as smooth as it seemed in your head - you focused on the gin&tonic you had in your hand and left it for your own good at the nearest table. You still had to get back home with your own two feet, it's safer to sober up.

Your friend rolled her eyes once again and sparked the worst of your personality traces - curiosity. "What? Why? Why, why?" You took a step closer to hear the gossip, drunk smile spreading on your face and you attempted to hide it behind your palm to not look so wasted. "What's the tea? I literally looked there because it feels like Miji may be the tenth person to approach him with a hug." You weren't totally lying. You did look because every woman at the office, married or not, mind you, approached the man of your interest with the widest smile and the warmest hug. You tried to think logically and assume he was friendly down to his last bone and made everyone at the company love him in just 3 months he's been here. Then, you spiraled down to thinking it was far more than that. What if he slept with every second woman in your agency and every other was lining up to get with him? Then you climbed back up to adequacy, as your own boss approached him with that big grin and warm hug right in front of her husband's nose.

He must be just out of this world friendly.

"I don't have any tea on him. He's just not my favorite person right now." Nari's eyes glued to her drink.

"Oh?" you turned your head around. This was what you considered tea, so why would Nari say she didn't have any? She was his direct report, after all. "What happened?" You leaned in a little, ready to be scandalised, terribly disappointed, turned off and disgusted. Anything, because being the opposite and out of his circle of interest was actually agonising you at this point.

"He's just a pain in the ass. All polite, with that stupid welcoming grin and an answer to every question asked." Nari spat annoyed.

"Oh." you said again, but the tone of that sound changed completely. "Isn't that good for the accounting manager that he is? I guess now we know how he got there." You tried to support and also possibly nudge for more info.

"I just feel like that's fake and he's a leech. He is a man in a managing position." she pointed out with a rise of a brow. "If it's not pretty privilege, then it's most definitely that."

"I heard he's pretty smart." you randomly stated, the look Nari gave you made you regret every word that left your mouth afterward. "Taeyeon worked with him in her previous agency, she said he's been a brilliant mind since he was an intern." You glanced behind Nari, the man of the hour still stood on the same spot, still talking to Taeyeon and Baek.

"Yeah, if he's such a brilliant mind why won't he make that report himself and not ask me to stay overtime?" Nari spat and everything finally clicked in for you. You laughed lightheartedly, tilting your head back a little and pushed Nari by her shoulder.

"I knew there must be something behind that venom outburst! I clearly remember you saying that your new Jaehyun boss is much better than your old one." you tried to not say the name too loud, but your voice made a weird wave as his name left your mouth and in pure fear your eyes glued to Jaehyun and you were very much glad the gin&tonic was safe and sound somewhere else. Jaehyun stared right back at you. As you lost all traces of time while locked gazes, it was hard to look at the situation soberly - did he look because you were directly in his line of vision? Did he look because he heard you call his name or he looked at you too in general?

You shriveled as soon as his eyes left you.

"Fuck, I think he heard that. That's pretty awkward." you almost automatically tried to lift your arm up to take a sip and calm down, disappointing your own self with the lack of a glass in your arm.

"Dude! He's my boss, ah shit." Nari panicked and looked away from you, trying to make herself busy with something else.

"Ladies." You watched Nari jump in her place at the greeting. With blasting music, it was hard to distinguish voices, and you giggled as Renjun's face painted with confusion. "Why?" he addressed you, as Nari slowly turned around to see who it was.

"She thinks you're her boss-" your tongue pressed against your teeth.

"I'm in different division tho-." Renjun raised his palm up, confused.

"No, she thinks he came here to tell her off because he heard us gossip about him."

"There's gossip?!" Renjun's already half lifted palm grabbed onto his chest in a dramatic gesture. It clearly said yall had gossip and didn't look for me?!

"There's none. She's just being dramatic because everyone loves him."

Renjun gave an accwpting nod. "Okay. That's real. My boss seems to be in love with him, too."

"Well, seems like we're yet to get in line?" you snorted. You would like to skip it and see for yourself first.

"You want to?" Renjun questioned.

"Ah-." you looked over your shoulder flabbergasted."I haven't had the chance to work with him yet. But everyone makes it seem like he's a very lovely person." Yes, that also on top of his breathtaking looks and sexy ass brain that made him a very valuable man at such a young age.

"I'm on short leg with Jaem, I can make him introduce y'all." Renjun sipped his beverage through a straw.

"I work under him, I know him!" Nari exclaimed and clapped her hands in front of Renjun's face. Like the solemn idea of being introduced to the man disgusted her.

"Okay! Don't clap it in front of my face." Renjun clapped his hands in front of Nari's face to piss her off in return.

"Okay, I won't." she did it once again and they both burst into laughter. You almost stopped them and asked about you. What about me? I don't work for him, I want to know him.

"Oh my god. Do you hear that?" Renjun stopped, stretching out his arms for everyone to stop and perked up his ears. "You don't?"

"The song?" you questioned.

"That's a song from like 10 years ago?" Nari perked up her ears too, probably looking through the music library in her head.

"8 years. That's my prom song! Oh my god! We have to go dance!" Renjun grabbed both your arms and pulled you behind him, one short corridor through and you've entered the kitchen area that transformed to the dance floor for the night.

Wait, so you're probably wondering what sort of office this is? With a dance floor and alcoholic beverages? It's better to give out some explanation before it gets too late.

Your CEO had her 50th birthday this week, since the agency also happened to close off a big deal with a lot of money involved a week before that, everyone was gifted with a surprise party to celebrate and wind down after the hot season. A little food, a lot of alcohol and a DJ on the 40th floor of your office on Friday night - great suggestion for everyone involved. People always show up for free booze, food, and party. Especially when the main demography of your company switched to young adults who worked as interns.

You had to be there too, everyone from senior and above were obliged to and as head of your group of clients you had to dilute younger audience and also, maybe, hopefully, scare them to not turn this into a trash party. This still was your office. And it'd be amazing if it stayed the same way by the end of the night.

Jumping ahead, none of you really scared the interns. They still were pretty wasted by the end of the night, women's bathroom became a fallen victim to someone's weak stomach. Don't think anyone really wants to go in detail with that.

You didn't actually mind being here. Despite having a higher position in the hierarchy, you were no fool to refuse a free party with your friends. Especially not when your main attraction was all in for the evening in the group chats.

You've heard people talk that there was also some action on the 35th floor, but who were you to go there and deprive yourself from hearing and seeing him from a distance. Even for 10 minutes.

So now, naturally, jumping with your friends in a pit of almost teenagers to a song they were too young to know, you processed in your head a plan of retreat. You might be a little sweaty and very drunk, but you're still very much dedicated to him. And it's been maybe 20 minutes since you left the open space area to dance.

"I need to pee." You excuse yourself and take a few steps away from the banging of the speaker. A few more steps and you bump into your subordinate, grabbing each others hands in a polite dance of sorry's and awkward suggestions to dance the next song together. You didn't want to judge, but she seemed like she needed to take a few gulps of water. You circled yourself out of her grip, and as you turned around once again with a smile and a small bow, you bumped into someone once again. You quickly turned around and jumped back this time, surprised and shocked. The victim of your awkward stumbling turned around, too, but you really didn't need him to. You've been staring at this suede light brown jacket for hours. You recognized it immediately. You knew exactly who you bumped into.

"Oh, I'm sorry." you smiled as his dimples hypnotised you.

"No, you're good." he waved you off and smiled more. The gesture and the voice and the eyes made you weak at the knees, and also made you want to reach the bathroom sooner. An arm slapped his nape, at which he jerked surprised, his almost full glass spilled the beverage on his finger.

An arm now wrapped over his neck and before your eyes appeared Jaemin. Your gaze shifted once again, watching the man in light brown jacket lick the droplet of, you assumed, gin, off the side of his finger.

You flushed. This was a workspace. Why would he show you his tongue in the first place, even before introducing himself properly, and why would that very mindless action make you cross your legs? You had a very explicit answer to that, but you weren't about to tell anyone all that.

"Ah! Y/n!" Jaemin exclaimed and a very satisfied grin appeared on his face. You wondered what would've caused that, you weren't familiar to that extent. Jaehyun just blinked, he clearly didn't know you personally.

"We haven't met, yet." you let Jaemin know, clearing the awkwardness that maybe only you felt.

"You're kidding?" Jaemin addressed the man in his hold. "You aren't?" he did look shocked, as Jaehyun looked at him still with no specific face expression. You didn't know you were that big of a person in this company, for it to be a surprise you haven't introduced yourself to someone new. It's been 3 months, but still, he's new here. "That's y/n, then. Taeyeon adores her. She's the head of her group. Super responsible, insanely trustworthy, and quite friendly if she likes you enough." You opened your mouth shocked at the last bit. First of all, you really held back to open your mouth in shock since the beginning of that monologue. You had no clue that's what your boss was going around saying about you. If you were a tad bit more drunk, you would've cried on the spot and found her for a hug. Second of all, you really were flabbergasted that Jaemin cared enough to remember. Third of all, the way he smiled at quite friendly if she likes you enough made you dizzy. You really wanted him to know he was at the top of the list of people you liked. Fuck, after he reached a hand to shake yours, you maybe were ready to confess you loved him.

"I'm Jaehyun. I hope you like me enough to be friendly." your heart exploded in your chest and made your palm sweaty. You wished to dodge the handshake, but he reached a little forward, and you had no choice but to shake it. His fingers were a little chill to the touch.

"Of course, of course." You hid your hand behind your back, giving him awkward giggles between each word.

"I'm leading Nari's team. I saw you two chat before? You know Nari, right?" he acted like he weren't sure, gesturing with his hand towards the opensace area.

"Yeah, we're friends. I heard of you before." you said and bit your tongue. Shit, now he's going to assume you gossip about him. His lips formed a little 'o'. "Not in that way." You waved your hands in front of him, hoping he'd understand it's really not in that way. Jaehyun simply laughed.

"I hope I'm not too much of a fussy baby when it comes to work." he probably referred to the fact Nari could've complained about him.

"Oh, no. No, I wouldn't gossip around like that-." And if I would, I won't say it to your face, duh.

"It's okay." he shook his head, clearly amused. Fuck, you hated this. Why were you all awkward and scared and nervous like that over someone else's boss? You were just one step behind in your career, also very bright mind, if you say so yourself. Stupid pretty privilege of that stupid pretty man. You moved your eyes to Jaemin, he wasn't making you nervous one bit. You could very much talk to him freely.

Jaemin ran his eyes between you and Jaehyun with a smirk. What was happening in his intoxicated mind?

"I'm sorry, I was heading for the bathroom." It's better to just fleet. "Do you mind?" you gestured behind their backs.

"Of course." Jaehyun stepped aside, pushing along his... ugh. Who were they? Judging by the grip on his neck, friends? Just close colleagues? Anyways, you took a step forward and left.

"You left for the bathroom and never came back, traitor." Renjun plopped on the couch next to you. You were hiding from people, trying to calm your body and mind down. "Drinking all alone? That's a double traitor. What happened?" Yeah, calming your body and mind with alcohol. Stupid idea.

"I bumped into your boss! Jaemin smiled at me weirdly." your voice full of complaints. You hoped it was enough to cover that his smile wasn't the only thing that weirded you out.

"And?" Renjun wasn't scandalised like you wanted him to be. He just sighed.

"I felt weird. I didn't want to return back there and bump into him once again." You didn't fully lie about that. Jaemin did scare you a little with those eyes.

"He's always smiling weirdly, that's his trademark." Renjun snorted. "You missed a whole lot of fun, though." you pouted and took a sip.

"I need to head home. Subway's closing soon." Nari sighed, and you peeped at your phone. Midnight, it really was almost the time to go back home. The party would be over any minute now.

"Let's just wait till the DJ wraps up?" you suggested, maybe because you hoped for the drinks to settle in your system just a little more, maybe because you wondered who Jaehyun will leave with and where he has to go.

"You're the lucky girl that can just walk from here home. I need to commute with a subway and another train." She was right, but also you wouldn't walk anywhere all alone completely drunk. You'll call the taxi.

"You can crash mine." Renjun suggested.

"Yeah, and take the same hour to get there."

"At least you won't be commuting alone." Renjun shrugged.

"Ah, it's fine. I lived there my whole life. I'm used to this."

"Okay." Renjun nodded.

The music still blasted, but it seemed like people were also looking forward to heading home, a small wave exceeded the kitchen area and some of them headed towards the coat room direction and some, in yours.

Jaemin, Jaehyun, Taeyeon, Baek and Sung all headed to the open space area you were crashing, and you genuinely panicked, changing your posture, collecting yourself to look somewhat presentable, when or better if, Jaehyun takes a look at you.

The group was passing by in a conversation, not paying attention to you, and you almost gave out a sigh of relief, when Renjun reached out a hand and grabbed Jaemin by the elbow and he stopped in his tracks, also making all of your bosses stop and stare at you three.

Renjun was out of your friend group starting this very second, you decided.

"I'm gonna head home." He announced to his boss.

"Okay, see you Monday then." The answer is predicted, why would Jaemin care much anyway?

"I'm going too, then." Nari nods, happy that she has company at least on her way to subway.

"Okay, see you guys Monday." Baek gave you all a nod, his arm gripping over his wife's waist tightly. The group seemed to take a step away, as Jaehyun pulled on Taeyeon's shoulder. You watched how he made a silent gesture in your direction and never felt more awkward. He stopped people from walking so Taeyeon would check on you going back home. It was awkward, but your heart almost flattered at the gesture, scratch the stupid pretty privilege comment made earlier.

"Oh, she's fine. She lives almost around the corner." Taeyeon waved him off lightheartedly. She was right, and you knew she didn't care because she knew your whereabouts well.

"Oh right. What was the street? That's one fancy place." Baek smiled, scratching his temple to remember. "Ah, something funny?"

"Summer street." you help him out.

"Summer street?" Jaehyun raised both his brows up.

"Ugh... yeah? Summer 125 is my address." You chuckled, confusion spread all over your face.

"Right. That's exactly how you said it when I first asked. Pretty funny to me, my adress is Summer 125."

"Mine's Summer 127." it was your turn to gasp at Jaehyun’s words.

"Really?" You raised a brow.

"Yeah, I never knew I worked with a neighbor." he chuckled. "Nice to meet you then, again."

"Right." You smiled too, again.

It sounded like bad news to you. How were you supposed to sleep tonight, knowing in the building right next to yours Jaehyun was going on with his life, not caring for you. So close yet so far away. Not thinking that you're somewhere near, while you'll be agonizing with curiousity and want.

"I'm heading home too, we could get there together." he said excitedly, placing a glass on the coffee table. Your eyes caught how it was still almost full. Was it the same drink? If you weren't hallucinating, he seemed thrilled to be able to walk home with you. You held back a reaction, thinking how about 10 sets of eyes looked at you for response.

"Ah, I wanted to take a walk, actually." you excused yourself. There was absolutely no chance you wanted to be left alone with him. Drunk and horny. It'd be distressing.

Jaehyun scratched a brow and shrugged a little as he answered back. "I'm cool with a walk, I got here by car and have to leave it." His eyes landed on the glass that he left just a second ago. "So yeah, walk's fine."

"I don't want to bother you t-." you protested, ready to stand up and deny him further. You wanted him in your personal so badly you didn't want to stay one on one with the man if he didn't have it in his plans to get you in his bed in the upcoming hour. If that made any sense.

"You get here by car? When you can literally see your house from the building?" Jaemin laughed and cut you off, very rudely.

"She does that too." Taeyeon giggled.

"Okay, weird people, it only makes sense you're neighbours." Jaemin snorted.

"How does it make sense?" Nari asked confused.

You didn't know. But some sort of connection to Jaehyun made your heart pool with warmth.

You stood up, maybe too quickly, maybe it would've happened no matter the speed, but you stumbled and hit your side on the tall armrest of the couch and was caught from further falling by Sung.

"Thank you." you whispered very awkwardly.

"Alright, Jaehyun you're definitely walking this girl home. I won't be able to sleep until you tell me she's in the safety of her house." Taeyeon sounded like a mom, you appreciated her care. You didn't appreciate though that her caring involved him.

"I'm fine, promise. Just not the best mixture of drinks." you chuckled. Taeyeon gave you the look, and you stopped smiling.

"Okay, we take off. Bye-bye." Renjun stood up too, helping Nari up and walking away from your group.

"Text me." You call out. The rest also suddenly continued with moving, Jaehyun though, kept his eyes on you.

"Shall we?" he asks after clearing his throat. Ugh, you really hated this. You hated his wish to help you get home. You don't want him to be your friend. You don't need any more friends. You need him as a lover.

"Sure." you gave him a nod and walked in the wardrobe direction. You could feel the phantom of his arm over your back, you guessed in case you tripped once again, you knew he'd catch you. Very mindful of him. You hated that he was making you more into him with every passing second.

"Sleep tight!" Taeyeon called out, and you turned around to blow her kisses, that somehow looked like they were addressed at everyone in that group. Whatever, if Jaehyun allows the phantom of his fingers to scoop you in his very real hold and take you to his home, you'll kiss every person in that office on the mouth on Monday.

Jaehyun offered help as you struggled with your coat, you kindly declined and made him watch your lonely battle. As you won, the two of you got to the first floor in a very packed elevator.

You headed towards your street, Jaehyun kept a mindful distance between you two and you were thankful for that. Giving your brain a chance to sober up and not do stupid things and ruin your entire career at the agency. You would not be able to continue working there if you did something inappropriate against his will.

"So, I guess we can say hi to each other if we meet on weekends." Jaehyun retorted quietly. You didn't turn to look at him.

"Yeah. Have you lived here long? I don't think I've genuinely seen you before?" You wondered. You would've noticed a hot neighbor at some point.

"Five years i think. You?"

"This was my parents gift for future investments when I was in school and dad had spare money. I've owned it for forever, but lived... maybe around 7 years?"

"I see." Jaehyun paused his talking and you really wanted to turn around and see his face expression. Was he thinking what to ask you next or that was all the information he needed and his plan was to get home in quietness. Good thing you didn't have enough time to decide on turning around. Jaehyun continued to speak. "Mind if I asked how old are you?"

"Mind if I ask how old do you think I am?" you flirted, all of a sudden, turning around with a sweet smile to see him.

"Well, if I met you on the street, I'd think you were barely 18. But since I know you from work... 25, maybe?" he raised a brow and stopped walking, expecting an answer. You faced him properly.

"One year up." you gestured with your pointing finger up.

"Ah- almost." He bit his lip and gifted you a smile. The one that made both his dimples visible. "I'm 27."

"I see." You gave him a nod. "So you got this place all by yourself at the age of 22?" You didn't mean to voice out the question like that, or maybe voice it at all. Jaehyun smiled wider at your boldness. If you got that apartment years ago as an investment, back when the district wasn't the fancy skyscraper area, he most definitely got it when the prices rose up to heaven. You were curious if he was also filthy rich in addition to all his other accomplishments.

"No, a loan and help of parents too, of course." You gave him a nod and continued to walk. Still sounded like he was filthy rich to you.

"So, do you like it here?" You asked, not even sure what you meant. Walking in pure quietness felt like you had nothing in common, and you knew it wasn't the case. At least you both drove your cars to the office next door, right?

"Here as in the neighborhood or here as in the company?" He continued walking a little behind.

"Company first." You decided you'd want to hear about the neighborhood a bit later.

"Ya'll seem like a fun bunch of people. My previous agency never had office parties, too, so it's already a win." he chuckled behind you. You didn't give him a visible reaction. Smiling with your back to his face.

"It doesn't happen too often." It really was maybe a twice in a year situation.

"Anyway, it's a nice way to meet new people."

"That's true." you nodded, slowing down so he'd maybe catch up to you. If he wanted to talk about meeting the new people -you-, you had to have him right next to you.

"We would've possibly not talked if not this." He said it a little slower or softer? Or quieter? Or you were out of this world intoxicated and full-on imagined things that weren't there? You had a history of projecting your own feelings onto others, you weren't sure in anything.

"Yeah, would've been a bummer." You nodded casually. What a big fucking bummer it would've been.

"Is that sarcasm?" he snorted. You had to turn around and look him in the eyes to make sure the tone of your voice didn't offend him.

"No, it would've been a bummer." You said with sincerity. "Didn't Jaemin tell you, if I like you, I'll be quite friendly. Ain't I friendly enough?" you tilted your head a little. You were friendly enough. It felt like the only right thing to do next is step a little closer and see if he'd mind you kiss him. But then again, you promised to keep yourself together for the sake of your working sanity.

But you really liked him too, and your feet made you take a step forward with no warning.

"You are. Very much, thank you." he smiled with a bite of his lower lip.

"What for?" you couldn't hold back a frown and also stepped one more step closer.

"For bumping into me, I guess." You looked away, unable to give him an appropriate reaction. Your heart was giving out on you once again. You turned away, wobbled and walked a little sideways, getting directly in front of Jaehyun. It was almost comical how you almost bumped once again right after that comment was made. He grabbed your forearm to walk you next to him.

"This is not intentional, I promise." you had to make it clear. It really wasn't.

"I believe you, it's the funny mixture of drinks in your system." His lips formed a little quirky smile.

"How would you know?" you flushed once again, did he watch you? You hoped he really did.

"You said that to Taeyeon." his lips fell downwards, upset with you not getting him. You completely forgot you said that. Maybe you were much more drunk than you initially felt.

"Yeah, right." Dissapointment washed all over you. Jaehyun's fingers still gripped onto your forearm even though you were okay now. "Good thing you know how to manage your drinking." you tried a little teasing on him. "Guess that comes from your managing position?" You smirked, eyes searching his face for a reaction.

"Ha-ha." Jaehyun replied dryly, swallowing a smile. Still, his eyes gave you a look of appreciation. Like he liked your teasing, but had to keep his brain straight. "I was just hoping to get home by car and didn't drink tonight." he shrugged and then kinda slowed down. You wondered if he bit his tongue.

"I saw you with a drink." You frowned confused.

"Ugh, should I really tell you that it was water?" Your eyes caught only a glimpse of his eye roll.

"Water!?" you turned around, Jaehyun's fingers falling off your arm. "You said you can't return by car anyway?" That was exactly his wording, you didn't hallucinate, you were sure.

"You didn't want a car ride, and I really didn't want to leave you alone to walk back home drunk." His brow quirked at you. You could see his face search for any signs of you being mad. You weren't. You just wished he said it sooner. This would've let you know he wanted you too. There was no way he didn't, with effort he put in to get back home with you. Possibly, to the exact same apartment as you.

"And why would you care so much for someone you barely know?" All you asked of him is to open up his cards, and you'd do the same.

"A couple of hours ago I found out that your smile is the most captivating thing in this city, and since then, I kinda can't help but be drawn to you." Jaehyun's eyes blinked at you in slow rhythm, allowing your drunken mind to process the words that left his mouth. Captivating? Oh wow. Drawned to you? Damn. If that was just some bluff to get in your pants, you'd help him do the button. You were sure your face expressed confusion, but Jaehyun smiled, and you realised you smiled at him dumbly for a few seconds with no other reaction at all.

"Oh my god." you turned away and quickened your pace. Why the hell would he say that, and why would you short circuit at his words and embarrass yourself by running away. Your face expression most definitely took your aura to zero. You really wanted to get home quickly and hide, losing hope he still was captivated after your reaction. It was only convenient your house was closer than his to where you were coming from.

"You're feeling better? You walk quite fast and in a much straighter line." he chuckled at his last comment.

"I am."

"Hey, y/n." he called out and finally seemed to put to use his long legs - Jaehyun caught up in a few steps and walked in line with you. "I'm sorry, I lied if it bothers you. I don’t, usually, lie much." You wondered if he wanted you to know he was serious about all this captivating stuff. You just wished he'll make things clearer for you. You hoped for two outcomes only. Either he would get in your bed, or you'll black out this whole conversation.

"It's nothing. It's sweet that you sacrificed a 5 minute ride back home for a 20-minute walk with me." You turned around. "This is my house." you raised an arm gesturing at the building. It's obvious Jaehyun knew where building 125 was, he slowed down and stopped. "Thanks again, I'll go."

"Ugh, wait." he stopped you mid-turn, and the way he chewed on his lip, you wondered what exactly was happening in his head. If he wanted to come upstairs with you, he just needed to take a step your way. If you were completely honest with yourself, at this point, you wished he had stopped the motion and let you go. You were shocked he liked you too and needed time to sober up and process it. You needed to sleep on it. Sleep alone.

You clearly wanted him as much, there was no doubt. You had no power to contain your wishes any longer, but hearing him being drawn to you also made you not want to ruin the natural flow of things. If he liked you like that, maybe he'd move towards you in his own natural pace? "Taeyeon said I should walk you directly to your apartment." No, NO. You lived on the 20th floor, and the elevator ride will take hours. Small rooms and you with him alone aren't the plan. Not when he said those things and pushed you halfway off the cliff of horniness. "I have to make sure you're safe on her behalf." Maybe he didn't have a slower pace than you did. This was not that smooth of a way to get to your home.

"We have a concierge. Nothing would happen to me on the elevator ride." You protested. If Jaehyun just wanted to see you close the door of your apartment before his face, you'll not let him get up with you.

"Don't refuse me?" he lowered the tone of his voice, and your heart went in overdrive. Whatever you thought of not letting him come with you was long forgotten. Wow, if that's how he planned on talking to you when he begged, you'll agree to anything. You actually had to seal your lips to not let that 'wow' come alive.

"Agh, okay-." You just nodded.

"Okay." Jaehyun gave you a nod and took a few steps towards the building. You stood at the same spot, watching him take off. He seemed eager but also nervous, but also, you could've projected all your feelings onto him once again. Because you were dead nervous, but also so excited to be with him even for another five minutes. You really wished in this moment you were teenagers. You'd just kiss and brush it off like nothing ever happened. Because kissing when you're young is okay. Kissing your co-worker does not sound fun even if he's drawn to you. But also, the co-worker being Jaehyun makes all the risk worth it.

A demon and an angel were bumping heads on your shoulders, pushing you off the cliff on one side and not letting you do anything stupid on the other. Jaehyun looked behind his shoulder and returned back to you.

"You coming?" his palm landed on the lower part of your back for a little push to make you move.

You greeted the concierge and heard the elevator ding. You stepped in and pressed yourself in a corner. The further you are, the safer you are from mistakes.

Jaehyun walked right behind you and gave you a look. You looked right back at him, questioning his stare. Did he expect you to jump him after the confession? The tension on your side of the elevator was too high to handle.

Right until it hit you. How the fuck would you get anywhere if you didn't press the floor button? Jaehyun had no idea what floor you lived on.

"Shoot, it's 20th floor." You chuckled awkwardly, pushing your body off the surface to reach for the button, Jaehyun did also that and your fingers landed on top of his. You jerked back in an unsuccessful attempt to lose contact.

Why would it be unsuccessful when your hand left his? Well, the man thought you were falling once again and caught you by your shoulders.

"See, and you didn't want me to take you to the door. What if you stumbled on your own and hit your head?" That's a pretty dramatic stretch, you swallowed the comment.

"I didn't actu-" You swallowed that comment too "Thank you." he stretched his mouth out in a thin line, making a ridiculous show off of his dimples and tapped your shoulder, letting go of you afterwards.

The elevator dinged once again, and you thanked God, walking out quickly in the direction of your door. There's literally nothing else left, punching in the code and locking the door from behind. The carpeting deafened all sounds, making it seem like you two were sneaking in, even though there was nothing sneaky about this walk. Jaehyun trailed right behind you, and as you stopped at the door, you breathed all the air out and turned around with a smile. "This is my apartment." you tapped the door awkwardly with the back of your hand. You really wished you had the guts to joke around and tell him Sorry, can't invite you for tea tonight. You would've, if your heart didn't beat in your throat. Jaehyun raised his eyes and seemed to memorize the number on the door. "Thank you for taking Taeyeon's words so seriously and walking me home. I appreciate it." You puckered your lips, moving your gaze from his face to Jaehyun's chest.

"It's my pleasure, honestly, to keep you company." your mouth kinda opened at that. Was he planning to go completely bold with you? The air was thick with unspoken words, and you wondered, honestly, if he could feel that too. Things he said made you question your sanity in the worst way possible because it felt like he flirted. But does he? Would he? Is he doing what you asked for - laying all his cards out?

A smile plastered on your face mirroring Jaehyun's one, silence descended further within the corridor, almost deafening as your ears rang, still not used to quietness after the party. You couldn't even hear your breaths. You had no clue what reply to give him at those words. Maybe it was your cue to bow and unlock the door. Jaehyun shifted his weight, and you almost flinched backward, thinking he was leaning in to you. The small talk really wasn't talking on your side. Your guts were only telling you to kiss him.

As you were about to find the strength to talk, to thank him once again and say goodbye, Jaehyun's hand gently cupped your cheek, tilting your face upwards. Your eyes flattered. His palm was like a heater to your skin now - compared to that icy handshake at the office. You shivered as your eyes met, a silent understanding passing between you two. He was telling you non-verbally, he'd make a move if you'll let him know you want him to.

If only he knew how badly you wanted him to, if he could feel the speed of your heart pumping blood right this moment, he'd be concerned for your health. You clutched your fist on the material of his dress shirt, letting your back hit your door and rest against it and pull Jaehyun with you. A smile adorned his beautiful face for a split second, right after that he had turned it to a focused expression, running his eyes all over your face, until his lips landed on your lips and he made a move towards you. This time, you had no room to move away. And you didn't want to, really.

Jaehyun’s lips brushed yours, a barely-there feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine. He moved his neck back, to see if you didn't want him to continue and pulled him in for a different reason. Like there was anything else you two could do pressed against the door.

You still appreciated how he moved around with care and mindfulness. You extended your neck, rising on your tiptoes and captured his lips in the same feather-light kiss.

The brush of his mouth was gentle at first, soft and teasing, as if he were savoring the sweetness of the moment. Then, the kiss deepened, Jaehyun turning it into a slow burn. Everything faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the warmth of his embrace. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair, pulling him closer, deeper.

Jaehyun responded with a low growl, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, a playful nip that sent a flood of warmth down your core. “Jaehyun…” you moaned, your voice barely a whisper. The sound drew a smirk from the man in front of you, and he kissed you again, this time with an intensity that made your head spin. His mouth was a perfect blend of sweetness, igniting all your senses.

“I swear I didn’t walk you to your apartment for this,” Jaehyun found power to pull back and clarify. He murmured against your lips, his voice warm and seductive. "But seeing you... I can't hold back."

You laughed softly. “I know you didn’t. I trust you.” your eyes locked onto his. You hoped he could read that this was exactly the reason you hoped he walked you all the way up here.

With every kiss you felt yourself melting, and when he nudged his teeth against the soft skin of your neck, sending a rush of heat through your body once again, you couldn't help but arch into him. “Jaehyun… please,” you breathed with desperation, urging him on. If he starts to undress you here, you will let him do that, too.

He cupped your face with both his hands, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, just your face. You made a remark in your head. Despite what his tongue was doing to your mouth and your neck, his palms were keeping the interaction PG. And since Jaehyun acted like all he needed was your lips, your arms clutched onto the dress shirt around his waist, holding back from excessive touching.

As he kissed you, though, your body craved more. He was putting your body on fire. It was getting more and more difficult to keep your hands on his waist. You had to know, you couldn't make the first move without knowing what he wants and likes. What if he has some sort of Christian Grey trauma and hates being touched, thus refrains himself from properly touching others?

“Don’t hold back,” you whispered between feverish kisses, starting from afar. Maybe Jaehyun was considering your feelings and not his. You wished he was a mind reader or some shit, that way you would not have been forced to drool over him from around the corner for all those months. He'd know you wanted him and get to action sooner.

“God,” he murmured against your mouth, the sound raw and unrestrained. “You feel incredible.” With every brush of his lips against yours, you could sense now how fervently he wanted you, how the chemistry had transformed. His right hand finally let go of your face and slid down onto your waist, gripping onto your skin with so much passion and need. His lips found their way onto the sensitive skin next to your ear, right where your jaw met with it, making your core arch forward his body and moan. Your eyes widened, not realising before you felt it, how turned on Jaehyun was from kissing you. While widening your eyes, you also crossed your gaze with CCTV cam and realised you quite possibly are watched right now by your concierge. You pulled back to pull him into the safety and warmth of your apartment, but Jaehyun seemed confused, trying to pull you back close to him.

A sly smile creeped onto your lips as you whispered. “Jaehyun, we should get inside. My concierge is probably watching us like a TV drama” Jaehyun followed your stare, also noticing the camera and losing all contact with you, letting you open the door.

The door clicked shut behind you and Jaehyun barely had time to step fully in or adjust his eyes to pure darkness before you were pulling him towards your body, your lips crashing together once more with an urgency that set your heart racing. And also set your heart with the only goal for the rest of the night - taking him inside of you whatever number of times he pleases.

His hands found their way around your waist, fingers digging gently into your hips as he pressed your back against the cool wall of your apartment. The kiss deepened, transforming from soft exploration into something wild and uninhibited. You melted against him, every ounce of tension in your body dissipating as your mouths moved in perfect harmony. Jaehyun’s lips were warm and inviting, drawing you in with a new force, darkness seemingly changing the trajectory of his actions. He was much bolder now, his mouth sucking in the skin, leaving red spots on bruised skin that borderlined with hickeys. Jaehyun's hands roamed all over your body, gliding across your back and tangling in your hair, securing you against him as though he was afraid you could slip away.

“Jaehyun,” you breathed between kisses, overwhelmed by the sensations surging through your body.

You also felt more confident in your actions, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more—more kisses, more intimacy, more heat. You could feel him struggling in his pants, pressing him more against your thigh. You felt intoxicated at the idea of setting him free. Jaehyun tilted his head, trying to deepen the kiss, his mouth moving along yours.

As both your breathing grew heavier, you could feel his fingers inching beneath the hem of your top, exploring the soft skin of your bare sides. You were on literal fire, you tried to press into him so badly, if it was possible to just melt against him, you would. Jaehyun was straight out of your dream. He was your walking fever dream, forcing his mouth and body against you and at the very back of your head you had a very certain but very small concern regarding this - you were scared you were passed out somewhere in the office after the party and dreamed this whole interaction. Your fingers found the waistband of his dress pants, and your palm sneaked down the zipper, giving him a squeeze.

But just as it felt like you were spiraling into something deeper, something that would blur the lines further, Jaehyun suddenly pulled back, his brow furrowed. The heat in his eyes burned bright even in darkness, but there was an unmistakable hesitation there “Tell me to stop,” he urged, his voice thick with a mix of desire and restraint as he searched your gaze, pupils dilated with tension and horninnes.

You let the words hang in the air for a moment. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked concerned while also being breathless and a little bewildered, your heart pounding with a mix of urgency and eagerness as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You shouldn't have touched his crotch. You ruined the whole fucking thing. Disappointment in yourself flooded your head and your eyes fell onto his chest, trying really hard to not lower down to his bulge.

“Tell me I can't have you—yet.” he added the yet as his fingers squeezed your chin, forcing your head back up. Jaehyun wasn't looking for just a fleeting encounter; he wanted something more significant, something meaningful. Thus, he shouldn’t be getting it all in one night. You felt the same thing within your heart, at least the meaningful part. You wanted to have him for an eternity, but that didn't mean you can't have him tonight.

“No, baby, you can,” you murmured, embracing your own need. “I want you to.” The pet name that left your mouth stirred your own insides. You hoped he could sense you didn't want him for just drunk sex too. With your words resting in the space between you, Jaehyun leaned in once more, kissing you deeply—a long, lingering kiss that spoke volumes. It was as if he was trying to savor the moment, capturing every ounce of his unshared emotions as if this kiss could seal the promise of what was to come.

Your lips met again and again, easing from passionate urgency into softer caresses, and despite your words, Jaehyun made sure to lower the degree of your kissing.

No sex was coming your way tonight. You could feel it in the way his arms chastely rested on your waist. Body pressed against body, you could feel his heart racing in rhythm with yours, and it made every touch feel like a sweet revelation.

Eventually, Jaehyun pulled back again, his lips brushing softly against your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. “I should go,” he finally said, his voice laced with something heavy, but there was still a lingering warmth in his gaze.

“Okay,” you whispered, already feeling the pang of reluctance settling into your chest. There was no point in fighting him now. You didn't know him well, but you could tell his mind was made up already. His ground can not be shaken. He moved at his own pace, and if you wanted to have him in your life , you had to respect that.

Jaehyun brushed his thumb along your cheek, a lingering touch that radiated promise even in farewell. “Goodnight, and… thank you for tonight.”

With one last gentle kiss, he stepped backward, the door closing softly behind him. You stood there, heart racing and mind swirling, knowing that tonight was only the beginning of something beautifully complicated. The kiss lingered on you lips as you showered and got yourself ready for bed, for the first time in a while not being able to contain your excitement for Monday.

don't forget to like and follow for more <3

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softsan · 11 months ago

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˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟏)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/��'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut. ✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Kidnapping, Strangulation, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past.

You felt all the air leave your lungs, your chest constricting as you tried to gasp for just one more breath. You heard the patter of your blood as it hit the hardwood floors.

“Y/N,” His desperate eyes plead.

“What did you do to her?!” Your brother demanded, yanking against the chains that were secured around his wrists.

“Good catch Taeyong!” One of your captors clapped his hand on Taeyong’s back.

You tried to lift your shoulders, but they refused to support the weight of your head. You were but a lifeless heap, carelessly discarded and left to slowly bleed out on the ground. The man’s sickening laughter echoed throughout the room, filling what was left of your heart with dread.

“Do it,” His voice urged, “Kill her now.”

Present.

“Today will be different,” You stared at yourself in the mirror, “Today I will smile, and I’ll mean it.” Your eyes circled down to your neck, your confidence waning.

“Come on!” Your roommate urged, “You can say it better than that.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, “You make me say the same thing at the start of every semester.”

Your roommate clicked her tongue, looking up from her phone. “And I believe this semester is going to be fucking fantastic.” She pointed at your white dress that cut just above the knees. “Look, we’re both looking cuter than ever. We have a new apartment,” She pointed to the living room’s ceiling to exaggerate her point. “This is our second year at college, and you, my friend, are going to put yourself out there.”

You shook your head in dread. “I thought we agreed that in this household, you can be the party fiend, and I’ll be the one that spends her nights binging TV shows on Netflix.”

Your roommate Jen threw you a dirty look.

“Hey! Who else is going to keep the universe in balance.”

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “The world is not going to stop spinning on its axis if you go out once in a while.”

“I highly doubt that.” You mutter to yourself, earning a playful hit from your dear roommate.

You and your roommate Jennifer had been cohabitating with one another since you were both seventeen. Back then, it had been a struggle to find someone willing to share a space with a teenager. That coupled with the awful reputation your foster father and sister had garner for themselves, you weren’t exactly considered an ideal house mate. However, to your pleasant surprise Jen was equally in need of someone to cover half of her rent.

You had somewhat known about Jen prior to living with her. She had been quite popular at your school, the social butterfly. Admittedly, you were a little suprised to hear she like you, had moved out on her own, yet you never pried.

Despite, her cheerful demeanor, you sensed a sadness akin to your own. You were both content pretending the other didn’t have secrets they’d buried deep inside their pasts.

The day had been too long, and the sight of a setting sun was a welcome one. A picturesque scene of pink and oranges painted the skies which backdropped Taeyong’s beloved city.

“Let’s get a drink to cool down,” Johnny piped, securing his gun back in his trousers.

Mark looked over disapprovingly, “You know you should really invest in a holster.”

“Not a chance!” Johnny grinned, “Taeil will flip if I make another extravagant purchase this month.”

Taeyong slightly shook his head, half-heartedly smiling. Taeil, his consigliere had only gotten on Johnny’s case after he bought two restaurants and three record stores on a whim. Johnny simply was dead set on never purchasing himself a holster.

Mark discerning Johnny’s lame excuse, decided to play along, “If you’re tight on money, why don’t we drink at the crappy-looking place.” He pointed to a shabby, bar with rusted molding at the end of the street.

Taeyong grimaced, he didn’t like spending too much time in disputed territory. The street they were standing on fell in a grey area, both claimed by him, the King of the North, and the terrible Black Crow of the West.

“We should head back closer to base,” Renjun cut in, noticing Taeyong’s hesitancy.

Taeyong had his own bars and hotels where he could drink and dine with complete ease. He saw no need to do so here.

“Let’s do it,” Johnny exclaimed, pulling a protesting Renjun into a friendly headlock.

“It’ll be fine,” Mark reassured, nudging Taeyong’s shoulder. “Nobody’s that stupid to take on all four of us.”

“I’m here! I’m here!” You breathlessly apologized to your manager, reaching for a bar apron.

“It’s fine,” He assured, handing you a docket, “First day back?”

You nodded, trying to catch your breath “It’s the first day, and I feel like I’m already behind on all of my classes.”

“Well, tonight should be pretty standard for a weekday.” He commented, his eyes scanning the empty tables, “I’ll be up upstairs talking to a supplier but, give me a wave if you need me.”

“Will do.” It wasn’t uncommon for you to be working the bar alone.

The 'Old Sand Bucket' where you worked was certainly past its prime. Its interior was outdated, half of the bar stools wobbled, and even the bar counter was unleveled. It just wasn’t a place that attracted a surplus of people.

You pulled your first load of wine glasses from the dishwasher, lifting them into the bar to be polished.

The door to the bar chimed, “Welcome to the Old Sand Bucket.” You said, without looking upward. “What can I get you?”

Taeyong gave the bar a lengthy overview. It didn’t appear to be suspicious, just the opposite. The dated bar was completely unoccupied beside the humming bartender who was mindlessly polishing wine glasses.

He examined you like the rest, evaluating the level of threat you were. Your head stayed down, occupied with your task. You barely spared a glance at his boys, who began ordering drinks.

You wore a simple black shirt underneath a bar apron with the ‘Old Sand Bucket’ labeled on its front. Your hair was tied in a low ponytail, revealing the curvature of your neck. At its base was a silky black ribbon knotted in a neat bow. Other than being pretty, you didn’t appear to stand out.

Taeyong hummed, satisfied the bar his boys wanted to drink at was nothing more than a dinky, uninspired establishment.

You heard another person pull out a wonky barstool, which made four people in your bar. Not bad, as you usually didn’t have customers come in until half past nine.

You placed down a bourbon and coke to your left—a man’s voice offering you a quick thanks.

“What can I get you?” You asked, finally looking up at the last man.

“Whatever’s good.”

Your eyes widened, blinking repeatedly, willing the ghost of your past to disappear back to your nightmares.

This can’t be real. This can’t be him. Please. No.

But he didn’t. He sat in front of you. His bored expression faded as he caught you staring. You immediately dropped your face, your face burning.

Taeyong furrowed his brows, confused. The way you looked at him just then… It was as if you knew him. He wasn’t mistaken. He couldn’t be. The way you were mumbling your answers, your arms shaking as you reached to pour a shot of vodka.

You did the best you could to keep a low profile, keeping your face down, and distracting yourself with work around the bar. You wanted nothing more than to abandon your shift— your heart furiously pounding every time you heard one of their four voices address you. However, at around eleven there was an unusual influx of people (what you believed to be a bachelor’s night out), therefore you needed to power through your discomfort.

You wavered for your manager to join you downstairs, while you stepped out of the bar and started clearing tables.

Taeyong kept you in the corner of his eye, unable to shake the curiosity that brewed in his stomach.

“Give us a smile, love,” Slurred one of the drunken bachelors, who had stripped off his shoes and was now wearing one on his head.

You complied, in order not to make a scene. You reached over his table to pick up one of the empty pints. You felt the irksome feeling of fingers brushing against your neck. You jumped back, dropping your tray. Your hands immediately shot to your neck, clasping where your black ribbon ought to be.

The shattering of glass made Taeyong stand, interrupting Renjun mid-sentence. Your eyes were aflame with anger, your mouth parting in horror. You were trying desperately to conceal the base of your neck.

Without a second thought, Taeyong approached, pulling the drunken patron up by his wrinkled collar. The man began sloppily flailing, trying to make his pathetic getaway.

Taeyong snatched the black ribbon out of his hand, before not so gently throwing him to the ground.

“I believe this belongs to you.” Taeyong stepped forward, extending his arm in your direction.

You instinctively stepped back, your eyes narrowing on the black ribbon between his fingers. There was no way for you to reach for your ribbon without exposing your neck.

“You keep it.” You said as firmly as you could, turning your back to him.

He watched as you retreated to one of the back rooms, his interest in you only spiking.

You hid yourself in one of the alcohol storerooms, searching for something to cover up your neck. You resorted to some paper towels stained with raspberry syrup. It wasn’t one of your greatest ideas, but it seemed to work when your manager came bursting in.

“Where’d you go?” Your manager pressed, “You left broken glass for me to clean up by table fourteen.”

"It accidently lock myself in the storage rooms again.” You lied.

Your manager sighed, ushering you out.

You did a quick scan of the bar, noticing the four men had since left.

“What happened to you?” Your manager pointed to the paper towels and raspberry syrup.

“Ah,” You pressed the wet paper harder against your neck, “A customer spilled a drink all over me.”

Your manager shook his head, “Go home and clean up,” He signaled you to grab your things, “I’ll close up,”

Scattered, you thanked him and reached for your rucksack.

“Wait,” Your manager handed you an envelope, “Some guy left you a tip.”

Who gives a tip in an envelope? You eyed it cautiously.

You waited until you had turned a corner before you used your fingernail to pry apart the sealed envelope.

Inside was a one-hundred-dollar bill, your black ribbon, and a napkin that read 'Thanks for your service’.

Taeyong kept his distance, hiding in the shadows. He watched you leave the bar, with your hand holding some paper towels to your neck. You use the other hand to tear open the envelope he’d left for you.

To his surprise, you barely acknowledged the bill—you were more interested in the black ribbon and the napkin. You stared at the napkin for a couple of minutes, your teeth grinding. You then scrunched it into a ball, throwing it onto the sidewalk with the envelope containing the hundred. You, however, kept the black ribbon.

Taeyong observed you as you slowly pulled the paper towels away, revealing a dark scar that wrapped around your neck... It was as if someone had strangled you with barbed wire.

A flood of emotions went through him, sympathy, guilt, and finally, coldness. He couldn’t help but remember a young girl who had experienced a similar fate.

You had died many years ago. Or at least he thought so…

NETWORKS: -

MONI’S NOTE: Woah! I cannot express how excited I am to dive back into this world. For those who don't know, this is an old fic of mine that I wrote like 5 years?! ago. I've decided to rework it and improve the story (also finally give it an ending). I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

TAGLIST: Let me know if you'd like to be added to this taglist!

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blueberry3241 · 25 days ago

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✧ MASTERLIST ✧ Updated : [14/04/2025]

↝ Are you obsessed with anime, K-pop, video games, and fictional characters that live rent-free in your mind? Well, you’re not alone! (´▽`) This blog is my sanctuary of stories, where I let my imagination run wild through fanfiction, headcanons, and original creations.

💌 Requests: OPEN | 💬 DMs: ALWAYS WELCOME

✦ Kpop

✧ ‌🇳‌🇨‌🇹

Nct dream ot7

You just confessed to them

You accidentally tell him “I Love You” for the first time

Nct 127 ot8

Johnny suh | Heat of the moment

Wayv ot6

Nct wish ot6

✧ ‌🇪‌🇳‌🇭‌🇾‌🇵‌🇪‌🇳

OT7

Their first kiss with you

You doing aegyo when they’re mad at you

✧ ‌🇧‌🇹‌🇸

OT7

Their S/O having a child from a past relationship

✧ ‌🇹‌🇽‌🇹

OT5

They get jealous and claim you

✧ ‌🇸‌🇹‌🇷‌🇦‌🇾 ‌🇰‌🇮‌🇩‌🇸

OT8

You accidentally fall asleep on their shoulder

You smiling/ giggling saying their name in your sleep

Their crush calling them oppa for the first time

✧ ‌🇸‌🇪‌🇻‌🇪‌🇳‌🇹‌🇪‌🇪‌🇳

OT13

You show up in their dream

✧ ‌🇦‌🇹‌🇪‌🇪‌🇿

OT8

✦ Anime

✧ ‌🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺 ‌🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳

Gojo Satoru | The Chaos

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liliansun · 1 year ago

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haechan as your bsf who has a crush on you 🫶

(pt 4)

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lavenderbexlatte · 3 months ago

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Golden Age (Part 1: Pado)

nct 2.8k words female reader insert Reader x Lee Taeyong x Ten Lee (feat. nct ensemble) suggestive/NSFW

🖤 warnings: non-idol au, quarter life crisis au; situational/recurring depression, the horror of Being Known, falling in love, shady business practices, making friends as an adult, romantic depictions of seoul, polyamory bc i can't be normal about anything 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

💛series masterlist

part 1: pado.

Tonight, you’re making a change.

Just a small change. It’s Friday night, and you’ve decided that you’re going out.

You never go out. A combination of newfound shyness – you didn’t used to be like this, you don’t think – and pure disinterest keeps you at home and around your neighborhood most weekends, away from the clubs and bars that light up other parts of town.

Around universities, in certain districts, there’s glittering nightlife. People come from all over just to play in the streets, get into packed bars, sip ridiculous drinks. To be seen, and to see. The street names are famous, the parties legendary.

It’s just not your scene.

Usually.

Tonight, you just want a little taste of it. And if it sucks, you can just go home.

That’s what you tell yourself, holding onto the vertical rail on the side of the metro car door. If it sucks, you can go home.

It’s dark outside, already firmly nighttime, people on the last legs of their commutes and college students heading to God-knows-where making up the rest of the train’s passengers. People with tired eyes and creased suits, hoodies and claw clips.

Them, and you, slightly self-conscious in your most bar-appropriate attire.

You’re not going out to pick someone up, or to be picked up, so it’s not an outfit meant to attract that kind of attention. Just something that won’t feel out of place.

The darkness outside lets you see your own reflection in the window glass, and you take yourself in, passively. You look good. You look good enough that it spikes your confidence, a bit. You’re still nervous, though, even if you’ve done this dozens of times in your life.

Get a drink, talk to some people, feel a little bit of novelty in your slow, easy, life that goes by much too quickly with not much in it.

It’s not that serious, really. You’ll be fine.

The train pulls into Itaewon Station, and you step out the doors onto the bustling platform.

Summer is coming slowly this year, you think, as you trudge up the stairs. It’s already warm out, but not humid yet. It’s honestly refreshing, after how cold this past winter was. Good call on your part, to come out and take advantage of the short springtime.

The difficult choice, you realize once you’re on street level, is picking a place to go.

You’re been to bars here before. Of course, you have. If you go to those places, you’ll probably run into acquaintances and friends of friends. The kind of people who are good to drink with, for one night, even if you’re not that close.

But you kind of want to be on your own, tonight. Even casual acquaintances bring social responsibility, and take away the thrill of anonymity, the making of a first impression.

Somewhere new it is, then.

Businesses change rapidly, here, anyway. Except for the few staple bars and clubs that outlive the rent hikes and ever-shifting demographics of patrons, places come and go every year. There’s no shortage of new venues to visit.

You wander down the main street, peering up the narrow alleys lined with chicken restaurants and hof bars.

One building that you pass looks completely redone, since last time you were here, all fresh paint and clean glass. You pause. The café on the ground floor is closed for the night, but there’s a side entrance that leads to the upper and basement floors.

At that entrance there’s a small blinking sign advertising a bar.

Might as well try a new place, you think.

The stairwell is white and scuffed and dingy as any in Itaewon, and you meander up to the second floor, where a single closed door awaits.

You open it.

The first thing that catches your eye is the name of the place, spelled out on the wall. The neon sign, much bigger than the LED one outside, reads “PADO” in blue script, with a little design of a curling wave over the top.

The space is larger than you expected, roomy, with rich dark velvet curtains lining the walls. You can’t tell if there are other rooms beyond them, or if they’re just decoration. The bar is gleaming white, the barstools are white vinyl. A big feature wall has beam projections of blue wave patterns on it, interesting swirls and lines.

It’s atmospherically dimly-lit, but by no means dark. There’s music, but it’s tastefully low.

There are plenty of people inside, but it’s not crowded. Small groups stand and linger, others sit at tables, their conversation audible over the pleasant music.

Venues that serve alcohol around here tend to be suspiciously loud, dark, and packed. Even the fun ones have that off-kilter vibe, manufactured or genuine, that something unsavory happens inside.

Not this bar. It’s clean, it’s open, it’s inviting.

You’re fascinated.

You like it in here.

“Welcome!” calls a man from behind the bar, as you approach to get yourself a drink.

There’s a menu taped to the bar, but you take a second to peruse the staff before you get down to the alcohol.

Usually you wouldn’t bother, but this staff is particularly interesting. There are three guys behind the bar, all in unique jackets, and they’re all…pretty. It’s commonplace for baristas and service workers to be good-looking to attract customers, but these guys are exceptional even by that standard.

The one who greeted you is also exceptionally tall, expertly filling up glasses with draft beer, an eye-catching figure in his white jacket and pink shirt.

There’s a shorter one in a purple jacket, all shaggy hair and bouncy energy, leaning all the way over the end of the bar to talk to a group of girls with a lot of suggestive eyebrow-raising.

And one other, medium height and medium build, leaning against the prep counter in the back, in a matching brown leather suit. His silvery hair is something like mullet-chic, and his attention is fully on his phone.

“Be right with you,” the white jacket guy says, when he catches sight of you. “Hey, can – oh. Where’s Dejun?”

The brown suit guy looks up from his phone. “Huh?”

White jacket rolls his eyes. “Dejun? To help customers?”

“Flirting, I think,” brown suit replies, pointing.

White jacket glances out at the bar floor, and rolls his eyes harder, apparently finding his missing staff member. “Well, you don’t fucking work here. But you’re behind my bar, so take an order, will you?”

This apparently singularly-capable staff member turns his attention back to the beers, and you just wait there, feeling exceptionally awkward.

Brown suit guy, for his part, looks at you as if he’s just noticed you. He has wide, surprised eyes, childish eyes. It’s endearing, kind of, the way he looks so flustered. His first impression gave off very cold and aloof vibes, but obviously, that’s not him.

He stuffs his phone into his pants pocket, and takes a step up to the bar.

“I don’t work here,” he says, echoes, “But…um. I can still help you. What can I get you?”

You tell him your usual drink order – something simple, luckily, because you suspect that if it was at all complicated, you would not be getting a drink for a while.

But the non-employee just nods at your order, and goes for the row of liquor bottles.

“I’m Taeyong,” he tells you. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

You answer with your own name. “And you’re right. I’m just checking it out.”

“Welcome, then,” he says, with a soft smile.

Taeyong slides your drink onto the bar, and watches expectantly as you take the glass and raise it to your lips to taste.

And when you nod your satisfaction, he asks, “Paying now, or opening a tab?”

You consider it. Paying now is easier, and you’re less likely to overdo it, but a tab means you don’t have to worry about money until the very end….

“Tab,” you decide.

Taeyong nods at your answer, that gentle smile taking on an edge that you can’t quite parse.

“Means you’re gonna stick around,” he says slyly.

You look over the rim of your glass at him, at that one. That sounded an awful lot like flirting. But a guy who looks like that…flirting with you…

“Do you want a table?” he asks you. “I can find one.”

“You don’t work here,” you point out, going for cheeky and hoping that your fluster isn’t showing on your face. “And you have to open my tab.”

“I’ll get Johnny to do that later,” he dismisses. “C’mon.”

He doesn’t open the swinging hinge at the corner of the bar top and let himself through the little door meant for exactly that. Rather, he jumps up and slides right over the top, and lands neatly beside you. Then, he takes off onto the bar floor.

More people have come in behind you, and there are only a few high-top tables left. The music is a little louder, to keep up with the rising conversational buzz.

Taeyong leads you to a vacant table with a Reserved placard on it, and flicks the little sign over. “As promised, a table. Reserved.”

“Not reserved for me. And you don’t work here.”

“Johnny put me work, you saw,” Taeyong says brightly. “Your table now.”

His good nature is infectious. You grin. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Have fun,” he tells you. “I’ll see you around.”

And with that, Taeyong leaves you. You can only watch him go, completely bowled over by what just happened. You watch him pause at another table on his way back to the bar to hook his arm around a short guy in a bright yellow leather jacket and drag him away, too. You assume that’s the missing Dejun, being forced to return to work.

You sip at your drink, and you watch Taeyong.

You can’t tell if he knows you’re watching him. You don’t think he does, seeing how he’s just back on his phone, hiding behind the bar. But you are.

Some bartenders flirt a lot, for their jobs. It keeps patrons feeling special, and as they get drunker, it keeps them spending more money. It brings people back, too, back to the bars with the nice, flirty bartenders.

But Taeyong isn’t a bartender here. If he was flirting – and you cannot confirm nor deny that he was – it probably wasn’t for the good of the business. He’s not talking to anyone else, that’s for sure. You can see the other workers buzzing around, chatting up the bargoers, making drinks. Taeyong has, as far as you know, only spoken to the bartenders themselves. And to you.

And yet, he stays over there, behind the bar.

The same shyness that keeps you home every night says that it’s just as well, that he was being polite and nothing more.

The hunger that brought you out tonight is keeping its unabashed focus on Taeyong, all the way over there.

After a while, the white jacket guy comes up to your table and introduces himself as Johnny, and takes your card to open that tab for you.

A while after that, you find out why the table you’ve taken was reserved.

“Excuse me?” comes a man’s voice.

You startle, still gazing across the bar at Taeyong, as he laughs with yellow-jacketed Dejun, and turn to see two guys.

They’re tall and handsome, strong-featured, one in a teal blazer over a teal shirt, and the other in tailored bootcut jeans and a red leather jacket. Just as good-looking as Johnny or Taeyong, just as peculiarly, otherworldly put-together. You wonder, fleetingly, wildly, if this place has some kind of secret dress code.

“I’m pretty sure this is our table,” says the guy in red. “Sorry, yo.”

“Sorry,” you apologize right back, “That one – I mean, Taeyong said I could sit here, let me-”

“Taeyong?” interrupts the guy in teal. “If Taeyong put you here, it’s chill.”

But the last thing you want is to be in the way, so you insist, “No, it’s your table, I can-”

“We can share,” the teal guy says. “It’s just us two, anyway. And Taeyongie-hyung.”

Before you can ask, the teal guy strides away toward the bar. Red jacket sits right down in the seat across from you, seemingly unbothered by his unexpected new tablemate.

You came out tonight for some variety, something different. This is not what you had in mind.

“I’m Mark,” he tells you.

You introduce yourself, too.

“How d’you know hyung?” he asks.

“I…don’t,” you say, nonplussed.

Mark leans over sideways and looks at you, quickly, from top to bottom. “Huh. Okay.”

His pointed gaze feels appraising, somehow, rather than objectifying. Nonthreatening, for certain. But you still catch the insinuation of it.

Apparently, you look like someone whom Taeyong would know.

“Nice to meet you, anyway,” Mark says.

When the teal guy returns, Taeyong is with him.

“I didn’t know if you’d be gone before Markie and Jaehyunie turned up,” Taeyong says to you, by way of greeting.

“I told her she could stay,” says teal guy, now Jaehyun.

“S’all good,” Mark agrees.

Taeyong points at him. “Don’t let Haechan see that you’re here. He’s already going nuts.”

Mark groans, and Jaehyun laughs, and you just sit there.

What have you walked into?

“Can we get you another drink?” Jaehyun asks you.

You eye him, rueful. “I really don’t wanna run up my tab.”

Taeyong waves his hand, as if dismissing your worries in the physical. “You’re not paying tonight.”

“Johnny opened my tab,” you say.

“Johnny was told to put your tab on our tab,” Taeyong corrects.

What?

Why?

“You don’t have to do that, I can pay,” you say, aghast.

Taeyong shrugs. “You can pay if you want to. But we’re more than happy to treat you.”

Mark nods, much too enthusiastic. “We take our friends out all the time, man, it’s chill.”

“Friends, being the operative part,” you say, but you can feel the smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I don’t know you.”

“You do, now,” Jaehyun points out.

You should be much more worried, you think, about being here at this table, somewhat a captive audience, with several men whom you do not know.

They’ve been nothing but nice, but they’re still strange men.

Even so, you’re…comfortable.

Contingencies run through your head, all your options should this night go south. You’re not stupid. You know how to plan ahead.

But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? Something different? Something new? You promise yourself that you would go home if it sucked out here. This is weird, but it objectively doesn’t suck. For now, you’re determined to enjoy.

“Okay,” you cede.

Taeyong’s gentle smile is back. “What’ll you have?”

Your next drink comes several minutes later, delivered by a very exasperated Johnny (you honestly wonder if he’s capable of any other emotions).

In that time, you find out that Taeyong, Jaehyun, and Mark are school friends of nearly a decade who are in business together. You’ve found that men who say that usually mean ‘we’re unemployed’ rather than ‘we own a business,’ but it’s not your place to call them out. Not tonight, anyway.

You find out that Mark apparently cannot hold his liquor, and as much as he protests, neither can Taeyong.

You find out that Mark is Canadian, and Jaehyun spent some time in the States. They switch to perfect English in the wake of this discovery, much to your amusement.

You find out that they’re regulars here.

“Usually we’re not even drinking,” Jaehyun tells you, sidelong. “It’s just a good place to chill.”

“At night,” Taeyong clarifies.

“At night,” you repeat.

“We have other spots during the day,” Taeyong says.

It’s a leading question. It’s bait.

You see it, clear as day. Taeyong is setting you up to ask, giving you a chance. An in. A reason to come back, an invitation to see them…him…again. You can’t believe it.

It’s bait. You gather up all your courage, squash down your self-doubt, and you take it.

“Like where?”

You left Pado with a bottle of water (forced into your sober hands by Dejun the bartender, just in case), three phone numbers (Taeyong’s, Mark’s, and inexplicably, purple-jacket bartender Donghyuck’s), and the Instagram handle of the café on the ground floor of that same building.

Saturday passes without incident. You sleep in, you laze around at home. Do some chores, doomscroll. The usual.

But on Sunday, you wake up much too early. You have plans, if you’re brave enough to go through with them.

Sunday brunch, you’d been told, is always at Kangaroo.

And you’re invited.

You don’t live close enough to Itaewon to justify going there twice in one weekend under any other circumstances.

You’re honestly not sure that you want to go under these particular and unusual circumstances, you think, standing in your kitchen and trying to gather up the motivation to get ready.

But then your phone lights up. A text message.

Lee Taeyong 🐸: hey! kangaroo café today around 12 like i said! if u wanna come to brunch w us :) Lee Taeyong 🐸: we gave you the address right?

You’d forgotten that he saved his contact in your phone with that emoji. The swooping sensation in your stomach, unbidden butterflies, embarrasses you even in the privacy of your own home.

Well. You wanted to make a change, right?

And if you dig through your closet for something green, frog emoji in the corner of your mind, that’s no one’s business but yours.

#nct fanfiction #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fanfiction #lee taeyong fanfic #lee taeyong fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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glamourizz · 5 months ago

Text

to my first... || l.mk

themes: friends, unrequited love, angst

warnings: gets sad, angsty, mentions of slight bullying

word count: 4.9k

based on a true story....

dedicated to the boy i should've told "I love you" to when I had the chance. my first love.

✒️✒️✒️

August 2008.

The warm summer air was no longer as prominent as it was a few weeks back. The chill in the air hit your tanned cheeks as you chattered away with the girl sitting next to you. It wasn't a big surprise to anyone seeing you beaming with happiness on the first day of school in contrast to the gloomy faces around you, bummed about the end of their summer holidays.

"Honestly, I am a little upset none of my friends are in the same class as me but hey! At least we have each other right." You smiled at the girl in front of you who smiled right back at you.

The teacher striding in cut your conversation short. A young boy trailed behind her looking confused and out of place.

"Good morning, children!" The teacher beamed up at everyone. "We have a new addition to our class this year. Introduce yourself!"

The boy looked around at us before gulping and muttering, "Hi, I'm Mark Lee. I used to study at Clover Elementary School and I'm 9 years old."

The teacher patted him on the back and guided him to his seat, two benches away from yours.

"Why did you switch schools?" One of your classmates asked echoing everyone's thoughts.

"My old school started an hour earlier than here." He said sheepishly making everyone laugh out loud.

You stared at the boy, a little shorter than you.

He was interesting.

December 2008.

As Christmas was right around the corner, the school and all its inhabitants were shivering with excitement-more with the prospect of holidays than with the festival itself but no one would admit it- and that meant classroom activities.

This year the students were tasked with making paper wreaths to decorate their lockers with. You and your mum spent the day before searching the web for all kinds of creative wreaths you could make and ended up deciding on an origami one.

The class was all busy decorating their own wreaths, giggling, and chattering away with their friends nearby.

"Hey, could you lend me a pair of scissors I forgot mine at home?" Mark asked the boy sitting next to him.

"Sorry, I don't have one." The boy said clearly hiding the scissor in his pocket. "Maybe Y/N can help you?"

Mark turns towards you looking expectantly.

"Sure", you shrug handing over your scissor.

He uses it before giving it back muttering a small thanks

A few minutes later he asks for your glue and a few minutes later asks for your scissors again.

"Did you even come prepared?" You ask him joking.

"I'll be honest. I completely forgot this was today." He whispered making you giggle.

"Oh wow! Your cheeks get really chubby when you smile." He tells you as you turn beet red.

The boy sitting between the two of you snickers. "Yeah, you should lose weight, Y/N."

Mark frowns lightly. "It's cute though," he mumbles under his breath to himself.

But you heard him and you couldn't help but smile at him.

He's nice.

September 2009.

Mark was sitting right behind you this year and you were relieved you had someone in your class this year that you know. You did not want to go through finding a new friend to hang out with again this year.

The two of you would get along well. Top of the class always competing over who would get a higher grade.

"You are a VIP," Mark tells you one day with a mischievous smile.

"What does VIP mean?" You ask genuinely confused.

"Very Idiotic Person." He snickered at you as your face contorts into an offended look.

You raise your hand calling for the teacher. "He is calling me a VIP," you whine when the teacher comes over to your seat.

"Isn't that a good thing?" She asks you looking over at Mark who had his "good boy" smile on.

"He says it means a Very Idiotic Person," you exclaim making the teacher let out a quiet laugh before half-heartedly scolding Mark who was still smiling ear to ear.

"Why are you so mean to me?" You ask him frowning.

"It's fun teasing you. You get cute." He explains leaving you with a small pout on your face as he lets out an endeared laugh.

You couldn't help but laugh along with him.

He was funny, sometimes.

January 2010.

Everyone was half asleep on the first day after Christmas break. Who in the right mind thought it was completely reasonable to wake up children early in the morning and put them all together expecting them to be productive?

"I have decided on the class president and the vice president for this semester," the teacher announced making all the students perk up. "Congratulations Y/N for becoming the class president and Mark for becoming the vice president. Come here and collect your badges."

You let out the brightest smile and walk over to the teacher to collect your badge smirking at Mark as you pass him.

A silent boast of achievement. You were the President and he was the vice president. You had power over him. He rolled his eyes at you. It was a healthy competition. It always had been.

The teacher soon left the class and you were in charge of maintaining discipline in class. As you stood up from your seat a paper plane went swooshing right in front of your eyes. You looked around trying to figure out who did it. And you were met with Mark looking at you with guilty eyes.

"You can't do that. Flying paper Planes is against the class rules. You are the Vice President!" You scold him frowning.

"Please. You are upset because you don't know how to make a paper plane." He smirks at you.

"So what?" You glower at him.

"Sit down. I'll teach you." He says before moving over to your seat crouching down and teaching you how to fold the paper.

You turn over to him to remind him they had a class to monitor but all you saw was his focused side profile and in that moment all words left your mouth flying away along with the paper planes your classmates threw around.

He was really handsome.

February 2011.

A year older. In the same class again. You had joked with Mark about how he was following you around like a duckling. He had laughed before jokingly calling himself your personal stalker leaving you giggling.

It was also the year he got a little more popular. You were friends but you knew he was good-looking. A little too good-looking if you were being honest with yourself. He got himself, new friends, and so did you.

It wasn't a big deal. You were never in the same friend circle. You had always had your own friend groups but his new friends did hurt you a bit.

They were the same ones who would pass comments whenever you were around.

"God, I really don't want to sit next to her." Your seatmate complains to her friend as you sit right beside her.

"Can't you go and tell the teacher you want to sit somewhere else?" Her best friend tells you a little annoyance in her tone.

"I don't know if I can do that." You respond back with a tight smile making the two girls sigh rolling their eyes at you before going back to their conversation.

You looked over to Mark who had just entered the class and was now making conversation with the girl and her best friend. He saw you looks at you and gives you a light nod. You smile back at him.

He was a little aloof.

March 2011.

You were hanging out by the lockers with your girlfriends during the break. They were all gushing about the boy band named One Direction or whatever.

You were just about to joke about them being boy crazy and how you didn't get the hype around the group but before you could utter a word, Mark walked in with his friends smiling at you and your friends.

"Hey, Mark. You said you liked One Direction, right?" One of your friends asked him.

"Oh, yeah. I love 'What makes you beautiful" He said.

"Oh my god, really? Me, too." You squeal not knowing what possessed you to lie out of nowhere. You hadn't even heard their music before!

"They are so good, right!" He exclaims with the biggest smile on his face making your heart beat so fast all you could do was nod your head. You knew you stutter like an idiot if you said a word.

That night you spent the night under the covers with your earphones in your ears listening to every song One Direction had released on repeat, occasionally popping out of the covers to see if your mom walked in.

He had good taste.

May 2011.

As the academic year was coming to an end, the teacher's kept piling on homework, assignments, and projects.

You were tasked with making a science project on the ill effects of pollution. You were in the group with the smartest girl in class, Mark, and a few other classmates. The leader being the smart girl was assigned with planning out the project.

And that was when you realized academically gifted did not equal having common sense. The teachers loved her draft and encouraged you all to work on it but you found it a bit impractical.

As days passed on, Mark, too, realized how incredibly difficult it was to bring her draft to life. All the while, the rest of your teammates conveniently gave up on the project whilst your dear leader refused to meet up outside of school.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you went up to Mark ignoring his friends who were hooting at the two of you as you ask him to come over to your place so you could do the project yourself.

You met up with him the next day an hour after school ended. Your mum, a craft enthusiast, helping you throughout.

"Mark, how much did you score in Math?" She asked him.

"Oh, 19/20" he answered proudly.

"And how much did you score?" Your mum asks you.

"16," you mumble a little upset.

Your mum just hums and goes back to instructing the two of you.

An hour. later you realize you might need some more stationary. Mark and you go to a nearby store to buy more paper and some paints.

"16 is not a bad score, you know?" he says quietly picking up two bottles of paint trying to make out the difference.

"Says you. You scored a 19." You mutter.

"So what?" He looks into your eyes dropping both bottles of paint in a basket. "It's just a practice test. It won't count in the future."

"What do you wanna be when you grow up?" You ask him as the two of you walk towards the billing counter.

"I wanna be a scientist. Do something to help people." He says as the two of you pay for the supplies before leaving the store.

"What about you?" He looks at you and you could swear you saw sparkles in his eyes.

"I want to be a doctor." You state with confidence. "The one that treats mentally sick."

"A Psychiatrist?" He asks making you nod. "They don't make much money though."

"So what?" You mimic the words he had said earlier making him smile.

That night as your mum put you to bed, she smiled at you before leaving the room and asked, "Is there anyone from school that you like?"

You laughed at her trying to rid your brain of all the thoughts of Mark that popped up.

He was the one you liked.

June 2011.

The academic year was ending in a week and that meant class trips. It was the one event of the year all students waited for.

Ever since you had the realization that you might like Mark, your brain had been a big big mess. It was only your luck that with finals coming up the interactions between the two of you had come to the bare minimum and you were grateful. Your mind was a mess every time he was around you.

You wanted to confide in someone but you didn't know to who you could tell this. In the end, you decided, you were going to confess.

He was your friend the worse that could happen was he'd want to be only friends. You'd deal with it when the time comes.

It was the day of the trip. Everyone was vibrating with excitement. For once your bags were laden with food and games instead of textbooks.

"I heard Mark is going to confess to Pearl today. He said he was going to ask her to go on the Ferris wheel with her and then he'd ask her out. He even got her a bar of expensive chocolate." A friend of yours turned around to tell you and your seatmate.

Your seatmate and you exchanged a look before she shrugged and turned around.

You'd be lying if you weren't a little hurt.

You knew Pearl. She was your friend. Not the closest but you were friends nonetheless. And you could see why Mark liked her, she was pretty. Albeit not the prettiest girl in class but definitely way prettier than you.

How stupid of you to believe you had a chance!

Yet, a small part of your heart hoped all of this was just a rumor.

But it wasn't. You knew that as you saw Pearl walk onto the bus after your trip with a shy smile on her face and a large bar of chocolate in her hand as her friends giggle and Mark's friends pat his back while he blushes.

You cried so hard that night. You knew you were being irrational.

He was so inconsiderate.

January 2012.

You had no idea how the rumor started about you having a crush on Sam, one of your classmates, but it was getting out of hand.

"Okay, I dare you to go outside the class and jiggle your boobs." The girl sitting in front of you said making you laugh awkwardly.

"Hell no, I'm not doing that." You say chuckling as your eyes dart to the ground.

"Yeah, your tummy will be the one jiggling anyway," she said poking your stomach as she and her friend start laughing mad high fiving each other.

You unknowingly tuck in your stomach and leaned forward to try and hide your abdomen.

"Okay, go tell Sam that you love him." She orders you.

You knew this was better than doing whatever embarrassing ideas they had in their brains.

You slowly walk up to Sam and it was only when you were right beside him that you realise all of his friends were there.

'This is so embarrassing,' you think. Confessing to a guy you don't even like just because you are too cowardly to tell people it isn't Sam you like but Mark.

"I….I..um-" You try to spit out.

"What?" He asks you looking between you and his friends.

"I like you." You said before dashing out of the classroom before anyone could process what had just happened.

When you came back a few minutes later, the whole class was hooting at the two of you.

"You shouldn't have said anything. If it was a dare, you could've skipped it. Why do you have to embarrass us both?" Sam whispered harshly looking at you with disgust as you walk past him.

You didn't like him but it still stung.

That day as you were walking out of the school campus Mark rushed over to you.

"Did you really confess to Sam?" He asked amused.

"Go away!" You mutter at him before leaving.

"Aww look at you having a crush on Sam. That's cute." He snickered before walking over to his friends including Sam.

He was so gullible.

November 2012.

The new academic year saw a big hit in your social life after Confessiongate with Sam.

The only thing you looked forward to was having Mark in your class again and if you played your cards right. Everything would go back to how it was before. The way it was intended to be.

Mark and you sharing unfunny jokes and competing over who scored higher on the latest class test.

Everything would go back to normal. Yall would have your silly yet deep conversations and you would no longer freeze if anyone in the 10 mile radius mentions his name.

The only downside? You had severely underestimated the change in the dynamics of your friendship.

Mark was no longer a 10 year old geek calling you some stupid non offensive insult. He was a teenage boy. And like all teenage boys, he did teenage boy things.

Like thinking and talking about girls all day long. Spending more time looking and grasping at potential date opportunities then spending time doing his homework.

The both of you were on opposite sides of the school hierarchy. He had his popular friends and you were a known loser. He only socialized with those that would rather be caught dead then fraternizing with your type.

The not so attractive slightly nerdy students.

But you did have a minor glow up. Maybe now the two of you could go back to being friends. You didn't expect him to like you back.

All you wanted now was him to have a normal conversation that was not "Excuse me".

You had hoped he wouldn't notice his new found popularity and pretend you never existed but he did much to your dismay.

"Aww, I scored better than you. Look!" You had boasted with a smile handing him the paper. He had only scored a point less than you but that's how things had always been. Reading each other over who did better.

"Whatever. Why do you care so much?" He sneered in annoyance before walking off.

The smile on your face dropped instantly. You knew it was stupid to hope for things to go back to the way it was but you hadn't expected such a cold response.

He had changed.

January 2013.

It was just another day. You were having a mindless chat with your friend. Being 13 year old girls, the conversation automatically ended up about boys and crushes.

"You really had a crush on Sam? He is as dumb as a bolt!" Your friend exclaimed.

You contemplated whether or not to come clean to her. You had grown quite close to her and considered her one of your more trustworthy friends.

"I never liked him. It was just a rumor." You clarified.

"Then why did you confess to him?" She asked confused.

'Whats the worse that could happen?' you thought and decided to tell her.

"I liked someone else but I was scared to tell anyone. I just kept quiet and let people assume whatever." You whispered.

"Oh my god who was it?" She asked her curiosity now through the roof.

"I'll tell you if you tell me who you have a crush on now." You struck a deal.

"Fine. He's in our class right now. He is smart. He is good-looking. And he wears the cutest glasses." She said flustered at the thought of her crush.

The only boy you knew in class that was good looking and smart was Mark. Not that you had even laid your eyes on other boys.

"Mark?" You asked as a joke secretly hoping she said no.

"Yeah." She whispered back. "Now tell me who did you actually like?"

You not your lip. "Mark."

The both of you sat in silence for a few seconds and then burst out laughing.

What a coincidence!

A few days passed and the situation that seemed funny earlier did not evoke the same feelings as you saw your friend get close to him.

Mark and you drifted apart and he became closer to your friend.

You went from having little conversation to practically being non existent to him.

It filled you with envy. Why did he give every girl a shot at the love story you so wished to have with him? Every girl except you?

He was a real heartbreaker.

February 2014.

You were finally secure in your life. You had a support system. Friends who understood you.

You opened up to them about Mark and they understood. You finally felt at peace.

You had left the chapter of his behind you. That was until Mark got himself a new girlfriend.

You never understood how they met. They were polar opposites.

Mark was academically driven. She was failing a vast majority of her classes.

Mark didn't have a single artistic bone in his body. She was an aspiring actor.

You wished you could hate her. But every single negative thought that passed your mind just seemed like envy and insecurity.

She was pretty in a conventional yet underrated way. She was so petite. She didn't talk too loud or eat like a man or laugh with her mouth open.

She was elegant and graceful and everything you were not. It was a cold and unfriendly reminder that you were not and never will be Mark's type.

He was unreachable.

October 2014.

Mark and his girlfriend were going on strong. They were a power couple in school.

And it took every single ounce of strength and sanity in you to not have a mental breakdown every time you saw the two of them together.

They were such an unlikely pair yet it made so much sense.

They made so much sense.

Seeing them and knowing you could never have something as romantic and pure as them.

She and Mark had been caught kissing in an empty classroom.

When you first heard about it, you refused to believe it. You were so incredibly jealous of her. She was living your dream.

But you couldn't help but feel bad for her. The entire ordeal ended up with her being slutshamed by classmates and teachers alike.

You felt really bad. Despite wanting to hate her you couldn't bring yourself to do so. The students would pass comments everytime she was around. The teachers were no different.

"Maybe if you focussed less on finding abandoned places to kiss boys and more in class maybe you would score more." A teacher had said in class.

"Ma'am I will respectfully ask you to apologize to her. We agree what we did was wrong. But there is no need to shame her in front of class." Mark had stood up and spoken loudly.

The entire room shut up instantly. No one had expected him to do that. Standing up for his girlfriend in a very Asian school. The teacher and he went back and forth until the teacher fed up left the class.

You always respected him. But the level of respect you had for him after seeing what he did for his girlfriend transcended any emotion you were feeling in the moment.

And it only made you fall for him more.

He was a good boyfriend.

June 2015.

Academic stress had hit an all time high. You had no time to ponder over what Mark was doing. All his friends were transferring to new schools. And you assumed he would do the same.

You were shocked to walk in class on the first day and sitting on the first seat talking to another boy excitedly.

You cover your face and speed to the back of the class.

He was in everyone of your classes. The fact made you more anxious than giddy like it did a few years ago.

The stress about your future added with the stress of your forever crush being in your presence all day long was paralyzing.

A small part of you wished he would turn around and greet you but he looked straight ahead the whole day.

He would always around.

March 2017.

The last two years of school breezed past in a snap. You had alternated between studying for medschool and yearning for Mark.

Meanwhile he kept to himself. The only time he ever approached you was when he wanted help with projects or assignments.

You knew it was wrong to help him. Especially when it was so obvious that he was taking advantage of you but you couldn't help it.

You still wanted him as much as you did 8 years ago. He will always be your dream man. You hoped that maybe helping him would make him look at you in a new light but all that was merely wishful thinking.

"I wanna be a surgeon," he told me as you hunched over the desk pretending to read our biology textbook.

"Really? I wanna be a doctor." You told him.

"Still? Psychiatrist right?" He asked.

"You remember?" You ask him surprised.

"Of course" He smiled at you.

And just like that all the emotions that you had fought and kept at bay came back all at once.

He was a real charmer.

May 2017.

It was the last day of school. You knew you would never see Mark again.

Except of school reunions maybe but who is to say either of you would even attend.

You had made up your mind. You would confess to him. You weren't gonna see him again anyways.

Although you do admit you had spent countless hours fantasizing what it would be like if you ended up going to the same college. Would he finally give you a chance? Would he go and date another perfect girl?

But the chances were slim.

The last bell had rang and students poured out of their classes.

You approached him with a nervous demeanor.

"Hey, Mark. Can we talk?" You asked him.

"Yeah. What's up?" He asked.

You open your mouth to profess your undying love for him but before you could utter a single world you hear your teacher calling for the both of you.

"You both did so well in your finals. Y/N, I need to talk to you about some stuff. Can you stay back?" She looked at you.

"Yes, of course." You answer looking at Mark.

"You can leave now, Mark." She told him and dragged you away.

You wanted to run back and tell him "I love you. I've loved you since we were 10." But you just let yourself be dragged away by your teacher.

Maybe it was a sign from the universe.

He was never yours.

July 2017.

It was graduation.

You didn't think Mark would be here. You heard from a mutual friend that he got into his dream college.

You were happy for him really.

But standing at the gates of your school you saw him again. Wearing the same goofy smile as always surrounded by people.

You walk upto him. "Hey, guys. Finally done with this hellhole."

They all laugh as a wave of nostalgia hits them. Reminiscing the time spent.

"I heard you got into your dream college. Congratulations!" I wish Mark.

"Yeah. What about you?" He asked seeming genuinely curious.

"I'm gonna take a year off for mental health. I don't know if I wanna pursue medicine anymore. I don't have the brains for it." You laugh.

"Are you kidding? You're like the smartest person I know! Don't give up. For my sake?" He said in a pleading voice.

"For your sake? And who are you?" You laugh at him.

"Only like your bestest friend ever, Miss. VIP." He said his eyes crinkling as his smile got bigger.

"You remember that? Oh my god we were so lame." You lean into him as he lets out a laugh agreeing you.

And just like that the two of you were 10 again. And you fell in love with him and everything he did for a millionth time.

"You said we needed to talk that day. What was it about?" He asked out of nowhere.

You were tempted to tell him everything.

How you've been in love with him for ages.

How he made you feel. Makes you feel.

A thousand words on the tip of your tongue. You looked deep in his eye hoping to see a fraction of the things you felt for him. But all you could see was the reflection of a young girl hopelessly in love with a boy who would never see her the same way.

"Nothing. Just wanted to ask about where you were applying for college." You lied effortlessly.

The two of you stood together as the ceremony started.

He was just a fantasy.

August 2018.

Its been a year since you saw Mark.

He got busy with college and you understood.

Its not like you were that close anyways.

You would occasionally check his Instagram page. He had a new girlfriend you saw. It didn't fill you with envy. You were happy for him. It was a bittersweet happiness.

You had often wondered whether you had truly loved him.

Did you love Mark Lee as a person or the person you had made him up to be in your head? Was he really your soulmate or just a chapter in your book that you read to your children years from now?

Was it really love? Or was it childhood infatuation?

"Heard you got into medschool. Congratulations future Dr. Y/N!" He texted.

And just like that you fell for him again.

Afterall, he was your first love.

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binnie-bitch · 10 months ago

Text

My Prayer And My Virtue - NCT/Enhypen Fanfiction

(Posted on AO3)

Pairing: Jeong Jaehyun/Jake Sim

Tags: Slow Burn, Canon Compliant, Smut, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

Word Count: 79k

Summary:

Their legs were untied, but Jake stayed close. Jaehyun slipped his arm around Jake's shoulders to get him even closer, and then leaned in, breathing in cinnamon and sweat. "I don't think we need to worry about most of the teams," he whispered. Jake tensed. He whipped his head around so quickly, Jaehyun had to pull away to avoid collision. Big eyes got bigger and Jake bowed as much as he could with Jaehyun still standing close. "I'm sorry!" "Did I startle you?" "No, I…" Jake smiled bashfully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jaehyun and Jake get paired for a variety show. They both find themselves enjoying their time together a little too much until the elephant in the room becomes too big to ignore. But figuring out you're not straight isn't as easy as some people like to believe, and Jaehyun and Jake are very new to this.

A/N: It's been a while since I finished posting this fic on AO3 and I debated if I should post it here. In a compromise I will post the link to the fic at least! Please consider reading <3

READ ON AO3

#nct fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction #nct 127 fanfiction #jeong jaehyun #jake sim #enhypen jake #nct jaehyun #ao3 #fanfiction

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keepswingin · 2 years ago

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It pulls at him like a deep ache, one that stiffens his bones and spilts his head in half.

The air around him is too cold, and his body is too hot, sweat slipping down his chin. It's nothing he hasn't dealt with before, something easily forgotten from one interview to the next when the day just keeps going and going. A roadblock he's plowed through more than a handful of times.

But today it's different.

His knees shake under his own weight. He can't think clearly. His arms burn, and when Jaehyun laughs at something from his left, it's muffled to his ears.

He exhales hard as the rest of the room collapses into laughter, music paused just before the chorus. He crouches low, but his legs give out as he tries, hitting the floor harder than intended, chest stuttering with his next breath.

A warm hand grips tightly at his elbow. "You okay?"

Mark can barely distinguish the voice from the other growing noise in the room. His eyes are closed, but he doesn't remember closing them, and his face feels flushed. His head is pounding, a headache that's been with him since he woke up that morning, growing more prominent as the day dragged on.

He never minds his life, a chosen decision to be a part of two groups, full-time. He enjoys it most of the time, feels idle and empty on the off days where he gets to go home and be with his real family, only to end up missing his second family more. It's hard, and taxing, but it's a good thing, to him. To be able to do this. There is nothing he enjoys more.

But today...

"Mark?"

Today doesn't feel right. He doesn't feel right. Discombobulated, exhausted. Unlike himself in a way that he can't climb his way out of, an abyss staring back at him every time he looks down.

The room grows quieter as the calm voice beside him suddenly grows louder, commanding attention. He doesn't know whose voice it is, doesn't know the difference in the hands touching him that follows, doesn't know who brushes his hair back from his eyes and feels his forehead, as though the temperature of his body holds all the answers to the questions he won't speak.

"Hyung, talk to us," someone else says, right by his ear. Worried, anxious - a hand on his shoulder that slides behind his neck. A voice that should never sound this way.

Mark can't find his voice. It's lost within him, ducking down dark tunnels and empty hallways. But he wants to. He recognizes this voice, wants to reassure him and make more promises he'll never be able to keep. He's supposed to protect him, him and the rest of Dream, but he's not with Dream, he's - he's -

His head spins. He forces his eyes open, black spots dancing in his vision. The faces of a different group stare back at him, a comfort all the same, but one face is the same, always the same, bright eyes pinched with concern.

"Hyuck," he rasps, the letters pulling away from him before he can say anything more, someone else pulling his body up, up, up. A phone ringing in the distance, hurried footsteps. Conversations he can barely hear.

He watches Haechan hover in front of him, hands pressing to different parts of his body to check for anything hurt, a cool towel passing forward from the staff in the back of the room, reaching Mark's shoulders.

He watches him, for a long moment. The younger holds his gaze, holds onto him like he'll disappear if he doesn't. Mark is grateful. So grateful, for all of this, every moment. And all at once, everything slips away from him as he's welcomed into the abyss.

#nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct #mark lee #lee donghyuck #haechan #nct angst #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfiction #nct fanfiction #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptober #day two #day two: overworked #keepswingin writes #mine

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primehyuck · 2 years ago

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MOVES

aka good things take time (the happy ending version)

word count: 11.3k

i first started writing this because i’ve been listening to the song Moves by Suki Waterhouse on repeat, but it became much more than that

contents: long time best friend!haechan, slice of life, pining and yearning, chronological time jumps (mostly college and young adulthood), other members mentioned (Mark and Jeno!roommates), kissing, fluff, wet dreams, a good example of two people who seriously need to communicate, face sitting, morning sex, lots of pet names

“Do you think we’ll be friends for a long time?” Haechan’s soft voice distracts your attempt to focus on a blade of the blurry ceiling fan, unable to keep you cool despite it spinning so fast you think it might fly away.

“How do you mean?” the bed squeaks when Haechan sits up to lean over you.

“Growing up, I feel like my parents didn’t have many friends aside from each other. My mom told me that it’s because when you get older your priorities change and you realize who adds value to your life, and that’s who you decide to keep.” His eyes are glowing with sincerity, body blocking the flow of air from touching you at all “so when we’re older, and married with kids and other priorities, and we maybe live in different cities, do you think we’ll still be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment before shoving his face out of the way of the fans air stream.

“Definitely,” your confidence soothes him enough that he lays back down “if I ever muster up the creativity to come up with a reason to stop being your friend, you have to swear you’ll tell me how stupid I’m being, swear to me.” you smack his chest before he can even answer.

“I swear!” He smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with you, rubbing his hand over the warm spot where your hand made contact, melting into the mattress.

———

Growing up people always joked that Haechan and you would fall in love, that it was inevitable, practical even. Because, if you fall in love with your best friend you’ve already conquered one of the highest mountains - finding someone that you like, and who likes you back.

You had both seen the other in a relationship, an inevitability when you’ve been friends with someone since puberty. He’d cheered you on when you had your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school, forced you to come out on double dates with him and a friend of his you didn’t even like just so he could take someone else out, and freshman year of college he’d even introduced you to the person you'd lost your virginity to.

The only time he cockblocked you was when you tried to get to know any of his friends more than platonically, so eventually you gave up and settled for real friendship with all of them.

“Trust me, you don’t want to touch him with a six foot pole.” He’d said freshman year when you had mentioned your attraction to his roommate, Mark.

“He seems so nice, though.” you pouted

“He is nice, but that doesn’t mean you want to be with him.”

“How would you know what I want?” you scoffed, and he looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Has the wind beneath my wings ever led you into the wrong arms?” He was highly animated, offended that you would question his judgment.

By the start of sophomore year it was obvious to everyone else that you were strictly off limits. All of his friends had decided unanimously that even if you did attempt anything with them they had no choice but to shut you down. The cold stare Haechan unknowingly serves them from across the room whenever they got too close was enough to keep them away. None of the boys ever minded the boundaries with you, there always was an ease in your friendship since they all knew it could never go further, but that didn’t mean they never thought about the possibility.

One night, at the end of junior year, Haechan is nowhere to be found at his own party and you graciously accept Jeno’s invitation upstairs when you complain of a headache, “we can play Mario Kart, and it won’t be all competitive like when Haechan plays with us.”

It starts like normal, and you're having fun when you realize that your tipsy brain can’t focus on the screen and the conversation simultaneously, opting for the latter as you relax into Jeno’s pillows. You don’t even notice him inching closer to you until his nose touches yours, tugging at a strand of your hair. This is the first time any of Haechan’s friends have shown interest in you, you’d never even been on the receiving end of a flirtatious stare from across the beer pong table, so you take the reins.

Kissing Jeno feels a little bit like winning, like you’ve finally made it past the invisible forcefield Haechan had put up around his friends. The kiss is lazy and hot, Jeno props himself up on one elbow and presses your back into the mattress with his chest. Your eager fingers run beneath his shirt, his abs tightening when you trail them over his sides. Your spine tingles when he groans into your mouth, the hand on your cheek moving to grip your knee and hike your leg over his hip. His hand holds strong around your thigh, and you sigh when he grinds into you.

Jeno pulls away too soon, stopping your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt with a pained sigh as he drops your leg to roll onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck, I should not be doing this with you.”

“Why, you don’t want to?” You want to curl into yourself, sitting up to stare down at his shaking head.

“No, definitely not that.” he pulls his arm away to meet your eyes, the alcohol in his veins making him brave enough to admit “Haechan would be pissed.”

“Haechan?” you question “did he say something to you?” Jeno groans, sitting up and hooking his elbows around his knees, staring at the mattress between his legs.

“No, no. He’s never actually said anything,” he knows he’s revealing too much, but he also knows he’s gone too far to stop “we just know he would never want us to cross that line with you.”

“We?” you can feel embarrassment bubbling in your chest at the idea of all of your friends talking about this.

“Yeah, you know, all the guys. We figured you were just off limits, I don’t know.” he grimaces, looking up at you with apologetic eyes when you don’t respond. You huff and climb off the bed, feeling rejected in more ways than one.

You’d crossed a boundary tonight, but Jeno was still a close friend, someone you’d spent a lot of time with since he met Haechan freshman year. He still knows you, so he grabs your wrist before you can leave, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed so he can stand you between his legs.

“I’m sorry, don’t be mad.” He envelops your hands in his and brings them to his chest.

“I’m not mad,” you mumble, avoiding his apologetic gaze “I’m embarrassed that all of my friends agreed not to touch me.”

“Did you really think not a single one of us was ever interested in you?” you shrug and he squeezes your hands tighter, heart tugging in his chest.

“When people don’t act interested, that’s usually a safe assumption.” you pout and Jeno’s laugh buzzes through your linked fingers "I gave up on all of you halfway through freshman year."

“Well, some of us are better actors than I remember.”

He has you laughing by the time you leave his room, sealing the night with one more self indulgent kiss and a pinky swear to never tell Haechan about what happened.

———

Halfway through the first semester of senior year Haechan bangs angrily on his roommates door before swinging it open and Jeno is genuinely shocked that it's taken this long for the gossip to hit his ears. The rest of the boys had clocked Jeno the next morning for being ‘too happy’ and he had to make them all swear not to tell, wanting to protect your pride and his own friendship with Haechan.

"You slut!" Haechan points an accusatory finger in Jeno's direction, dragging his feet slowly toward him until he's so close Jeno has to bat his hand out of his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Haechan's voice is low and angry, something new and unpleasant sparking in his gut at the idea of Jeno kissing you, touching you.

"No, I don't." Jeno can’t help but antagonize. Pleased with the perfect opportunity to trick Haechan into saying out loud what everyone else seems to have known for years.

"You kissed my best friend!" He shrieks, tossing his hands up in the air dramatically.

"So what, she's not allowed to kiss people?" Haechan squints his eyes at Jeno’s response, scrunching his nose in annoyance “how did you even find out?”

"She can kiss whoever she wants, it's all of you that aren't allowed to kiss her." Haechan waves his hand wildly toward the bedroom door, alluding to the large group of boys living in the house “you know Mark can’t keep a secret, he’s been bursting at the seams for months. All I had to do was ask.”

"It happened forever ago dude, why are you so pissed? You've never even given us a chance to get close to her in that way, maybe one of us could really like her." Jeno reasons, tugging at Haechan's strings, watching the gears in his brain turn as he tries to come up with a real argument.

"She has a boyfriend," Haechan finally says with a frown at the thought of the guy he’d only recently met, he doesn’t like him at all. From his stupid hair to the shoes he wears, there’s not a thing about your new boyfriend that Haechan thinks is good enough for you. He collapses into the gaming chair across from where Jeno is relaxed on the couch, not having moved at all since Haechan stormed in "plus, I think any of you would know by now, you've all known her for four years."

"I think, that it can take a lot longer than four years to realize how much you like someone." Jeno bites, "how long have you known her?"

"Since middle school." He picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans, realizing what Jeno is alluding to, defensive exterior quickly crumbling.

"Right, I think that if you're blind enough then it can take ten years to realize how much you like someone."

"Well, maybe ten years is too long and that person missed their chance." Haechan turns his head to stare out the window, anxiously spinning the chair side to side.

"You know I'm talking about you, right?"

"God, yes, I know you're talking about me." Haechan glares at his friend, fidgeting stopping abruptly "and I know I've been a complete idiot about it, but like I said, I’m out of time."

———

Haechan can’t stop his free hand from clenching and unclenching as you sob into your pillow, his less angry hand rubbing over your back.

“He told me he saw us moving in together after graduation,” your voice shakes “how do you look someone in the eyes and say shit like that and then sleep with someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan replies earnestly, feeling as helpful as flip flops in the snow from where he sits on the edge of your mattress “I’m so sorry.”

He takes your silence as an invitation, lying on his stomach, face turned toward you, fingers still drawing soothing circles over your shoulder blades. He waits patiently for you to calm down, unease swarming his stomach knowing that even after years of friendship he can’t truly comfort you in this moment.

“I’m so embarrassed.” you sniffle, smearing your face over your pillow before turning to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting for you to collect yourself enough to explain.

“I’m so gullible, he even told me he’s cheated in the past and for whatever reason I believed that he’d treat me differently, that he’d love me enough.” Haechan has to count to five in his head to stay calm before he speaks.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The most natural thing you can do is believe someone when they say they love you.” He murmurs, turning onto his side so he can pull you into a hug. When you curl into his body to bury your face in his chest he can only pray you can’t hear his heart pound against his ribs.

“He’s an idiot, and he didn’t deserve any of the love you gave him. I promise, you’re so much better off.”

Haechan hates the piece of himself that’s relieved your relationship has ended. The same piece that hated your ex the minute he met him, that feels heavy in your absence whenever you’re busy with anyone who isn’t him. The piece that crosses it’s fingers whenever you get this close in hopes that you’ll be the first one to cross the line, to finally do what he’s thought about doing for the last few months since he realized exactly how he felt about you.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his tear dampened shirt, lifting your leg over his to cuddle in even closer “thanks for always being my friend, even when I do dumb shit, like let boys be mean to me.”

He nuzzles his nose into your scalp, eyes fluttering shut at the smell of your shampoo “Thanks for letting me. Besides, even Beyoncé got cheated on, so you clearly aren’t that dumb.” the crowd in his brain cheers when you giggle into his chest.

“You’re so annoying.” He holds you even tighter.

———

“I can’t believe it,” your jaw drops and Haechan whips his head up nervously to look at you from across the couch

“What happened?”

“I got it, I got the job!” you shove his feet off your lap to jump up excitedly, bouncing on your toes as you read the email out loud. Haechan’s ears are ringing so loud he barely catches the first half, trying to shake off the dazed look he’s sure appears on his face.

“We were extremely impressed with your resume and even more so with the impression you left on the board during your interview, blah blah blah, excited to offer you this position, blah blah blah, and a relocation bonus to join us in in our new office!” the pitch of your voice rises a few octaves as you finish reading.

Haechan stares at you from his spot on the couch, eyes wide with shock that you’re too excited to notice, skimming your screen as you re-read the details in your offer letter.

His entire body is buzzing, torn between feeling excited at your accomplishment and sorry for himself.

He had a plan, a really good one, he thought. After your breakup you’d made it painfully clear that you wanted to be single for a while, and he knew if he could just be patient, it would all be worth it. So Haechan decided to bottle his feelings up, sitting patiently by your side where he had been for so many years, waiting for you to heal and hoping that when you were finally ready to start dating again he’d have mustered up the courage to make the first move.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you even listening to me!?” you drop your phone to pull him up off the couch, bouncing up and down with your fingers intertwined “I’m moving to my dream city, to start my dream job.” you reiterate and he snaps out of it, sweeping the imaginary shards of glass that his plan had been made out of under the rug and pulling you into a hug.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” You deadpan, but squeeze him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you is all.” He admits, "I'd follow you if my job didn't keep me here."

“I’ll make sure you don’t miss me too much, don’t worry.” you plant your cheek on his chest, surprised at the relief you feel in hearing him say it first.

———

This feeling was still a little unfamiliar, nerves. Haechan had never made you nervous growing up; excited, annoyed, passionate maybe, but never nervous.

The nerves began last summer, when he’d come out to visit you for the first time to celebrate his birthday. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met, almost ten full months and the anticipation was palpable.

When he steps through the airport doors you think that it’s the relief of finally being near him again that knocks the wind out of you. Running into his open arms and being squeezed so tightly in them that you tap his shoulder to let you breathe. Ruffling his hair when he steps back and ignoring the fact that he had grown so much since you’d seen him last.

But as the night goes on, the slight changes to the person you have memorized become glaringly obvious. The way his cheeks have lost some of their cushion, revealing a sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. The natural wave in his once unruly hair now falling perfectly over his brow bone, he had dyed it a little darker which made his tan skin glow even in dim lighting. Even his smell seemed to draw you into a trance, a much more expensive version of the Haechan you know.

“You know, that group of girls has been staring over at you since we walked in.” You raise your eyebrows playfully, pointing your glass toward the pretty gaggle that keeps walking past the booth you and Haechan occupy.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you before shrugging, “I didn’t come here to see them, I came to see you.” he smiles, punctuating his thought by reaching over the table and tapping your nose.

“I know, I know,” you laugh, batting him away “It never hurts to know when people are staring, though”

His face is unreadable as he rests his arm lazily up over the bench of the booth, body sinking into the seat while he lifts his glass to swirl his drink, biting the words that have been resting on the tip of his tongue the entire trip, and at the end of every phone call since you started your new job.

“How are you, seriously.” You push. In the time since you moved he’d started and ended a relationship with a girl that you’d never met. Your new job kept you so busy that you hadn’t even learned about the breakup until a week later, when you finally had the time to call him back. The guilt of your absence weighs you down, resenting your inability to be there for him the way he had been for you in the past.

“I’m over it, seriously.” You know he’s telling the truth, but it’s in your nature to pry.

“You never really talked about, why, you know.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just feel so behind on your life.” You sigh and push your empty glass to the side, swirling your finger in the ring of cold water it leaves behind.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve been busy, I understand.” He reaches across the table to stop your anxious fingers “I didn’t love her the way I knew I should, that’s all. It’s a good thing that it ended, and I’m happy that it did.”

“That’s all that matters, then.” and he’s grateful that you drop the subject.

You eventually get back to your apartment, both giggly and flush from the alcohol still fogging your brain despite the long walk you'd hoped would lessen it. Haechan holds your hand the whole way back, even when he stops suddenly to pet a dog, dragging you down to the ground with him. He can’t help himself, grateful that at this point you'd touched one another in every way other than what he dreams about most, and you seem oblivious to his need to be so close to you.

As you get ready for bed he lets himself watch you undress facing the wall away from him, unaware of his gaze burning into your backside and the way his fingers tingle at the thought of pulling at the meat of your hips. He scolds his heart for thudding so loud when you squeeze your eyes into a smile at his reflection standing next to yours at the sink while you brush your teeth, the domestication of your friendship that he used to appreciate now suffocating him.

You put on a movie and invite him to rest his head on the pillow in your lap, wishing he could bury his nose into the skin of your thighs beneath it. Halfway through the movie he has to sit up to hide the way his cock is hardening at the feeling of your nails combing through his hair and down his shoulder, occasionally thrumming over his chest. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over his legs as casually as possible, pulling you into his side by your shoulder, the other arm stretched across the back of the couch.

"Are you cold for the first time in your life?" Haechan never wants to use a blanket, but you’re grateful for the position giving you access to bury your face into his chest, gripping his shirt.

"No, just want to be warmer." he presses a blushing cheek onto the top of your head, trying to think of anything except the way your hair smells, or the feeling of the side of your breast brushing his wrist through your shirt. Haechan feels eighteen again and like he's discovering the connection between romantic and sexual feelings for the first time in his life. He tries to match his breathing to yours, holding his breath whenever you shift in his hold and reconnecting his stomach with your back as quickly as possible. The temptation to pour his heart out is overwhelming, but when he feels your body completely relax into his and your breathing slow down, the words become trapped in his throat, so he lets you sleep.

Haechan had never experienced a shorter 48 hours than that weekend he spent following you around the city you now call home.

You’re shining in your new space, and he happily trails behind you to all the places you’ve discovered in the almost year since you moved. His stomach does somersaults whenever you point something out that reminds you of him.

“I’ve been waiting to come here until you could come with me!” you're so excited to take him to the video game themed coffee shop that your co-workers had recommended “I thought about coming to see if it was even worth it, but I only want to play these kinds of games with you anyway.”

Sometimes he can forget about his feelings for you, when things are just as they always have been. You talk with and touch him the same, laugh at his jokes the same. He thinks that if he were to ever say out loud what he’s been feeling, that the two of you would still be the same but with a little More, ‘you guys’ but on steroids. So when everything is normal he can pretend like it‘a not. He can act like the More is there when you hold his hand to drag him around to the different machines, play games he wants to play even if you don’t want to, you even wipe ice cream off of his chin when his cone starts to melt because he’s talking too much to eat and he wonders why it took him so long to see it this way, and if you could too.

He keeps thinking the moment will come, when he’ll know spilling his guts to you is the right thing to do. But between you gushing over how much you love your new life and your willingness to point out every girl who has blinked at him this weekend, he completely loses the steam he’d gained during his flight, regardless of how his imagination runs wild with the More.

He curses himself the entire weekend for his lack of bravery, hoping that keeping his feelings in is the right decision. After his recent relationship crashed and burned because of his feelings for you he thought he had no choice but to come clean. But watching you, being with you in your new life makes him realize that his role in it hasn’t changed even if his feelings for you have.

The lump in his throat as he stands outside the departure doors is more than just sadness at the thought of leaving you, it’s the realization that he has to let the romantic idea of you go.

“How come you never cry when we have to leave each other,” you hiccup into his chest, and he coos your name lovingly.

“Don’t worry, you know I save my tears for the plane to make everyone in my row uncomfortable.” He knows that you hate that he’s making you laugh at a time like this, pulling away so you can swat his chest and he raises his hands in surrender.

“When will we be able to see each other again?”

“As soon as possible.” He nods reassuringly, wiping your tears with his thumb, heart pounding as he stares into your watering eyes “hey, you’re my best friend in the world, you annoy me every day, and I love you.”

“Whatever, I love you too.” you laugh, but his heart speeds up at the words that you’ve said to him thousands of times. You sweep your arms around him one last time before pushing him toward the airport doors “you better go, if you miss your flight I can’t guarantee I’ll let you leave at all.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He walks backwards slowly, staring at you with a ‘kicked puppy’ kind of face he mastered years ago and you wave enthusiastically, blowing loud kisses into the air that he catches and clutches to his heart.

“This is it,” he thinks, “this has to be it.”

———

Haechan is dreaming about you. He has been nightly ever since he got back from his birthday weekend. He’s grateful the dreams have variety, since some of them overwhelm him to the point of waking up and not being able to fall back asleep.

Sometimes, you’re young again and whenever anyone says “You know, it’s just a matter of time until one of you has a crush on the other.” you both theatrically gag, laughing at each other as if it were the most insane idea in the world. Or, you're sitting on his childhood couch watching your guys' favorite movie for the hundredth weekend in a row, vocalizing the parts of the two main characters and recreating all the best scenes.

Sometimes you’re at his apartment just hanging out together, which are dreams that feel so real he almost expects to see you in his kitchen when he wakes up. Most of these dreams spark a deja vu laced flame in his gut so deep he finds himself confusing them with memories. The ache of missing you wakes him up before his alarm some mornings, and he finds himself face timing you once he knows you're awake just to watch you make coffee and wash your face.

But sometimes, he has dreams that make him feel so ashamed he can barely text you back in the morning. Dreams where he reaches to touch you and you let him, where you tug at his hair and moan his name while he does all the things that he can only do to you in his sleep. He hates to say that these are his favorite, but it's the one dream he knows he'll never actually achieve and he goes to bed every night praying for them.

That’s the kind of dream he’s having when his phone buzzes him awake. He answers without looking because there are only a handful of people who can reach him when he’s on ‘do not disturb’, and you’re one of them. He hums a sleepy greeting into his phone, putting it on speaker next to his pillow and nearly drifting right back into the dream and between your thighs.

“Donghyuck” his eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice “did i wake you up?”

He can practically hear the pout in your voice, squinting at the time on his phone, “Yes, it’s three in the morning,” he stares down to where he’s half hard, running an embarrassed hand over his face even though there’s no possible way for you to know “are you okay?”

“No, well technically yes but I miss you which means things could be better.” you slur your words and Haechan smiles, somehow he's never annoyed that you call him pretty much every time you drink. He thinks it's because he's familiar with this version of you, though he definitely hasn't seen it often since college graduation. This version of you loves him hard, and is never afraid to say it.

"I miss you too," he takes a beat before adding "I was dreaming about you just now."

You gasp excitedly "Really! What were we doing." He smirks at the thought of telling you that you had been sitting on his face, hand reaching back for his cock while he guides your cunt over his tongue until you were shaking above him.

"Just, hanging out." he shrugs. It's his second time this week alone dreaming of your clit bumping his nose, and the thought makes his mouth water.

"I don't believe you." You say accusingly "that's way too boring for a mind like yours to dream up."

"What exactly is my mind like?" He yawns, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

"Oh, you know," you hum "your mind is a galaxy, with at least a billion planets and twice as many stars. I wish I could fly into your head and explore it, but NASA doesn't have the funds."

Haechan holds his breath at your compliment, the smile on his face so wide he can hear it in his own voice "That sounds like an episode of Magic School Bus."

"Your brain is definitely cooler than some cartoon, it's pretty much my favorite place on Earth."

"How would you know, you've never actually been inside?" He shakes his head, teasing you gently. Hearing words like these come out of your mouth breaks his heart and glues it back together at the same time.

"Are you saying you never think about me?" you ask him, not an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.

"I think about you all the time, I promise, all the planets in my brain are shaped like you." You hum, pleased with his response. He shuts his eyes and waits for your answer.

"Yeah, all the planets in mine are shaped like you, too." you pause for a second and add "plus all the stars, I win, I think about you more."

———

This time when Haechan comes to visit you, you know the nerves are more than just excitement at seeing your best friend. It’s a feeling that is nestled so deep in your stomach it makes you a little nauseous. You haven't seen him since you went home for the holidays and he only has one night in the city. You find yourself grueling over your reflection in the mirror, not used to being self conscious in front of him. You’re only going out for happy hour, but you put yourself together to last all night.

When Haechan finally arrives he whistles lowly, making you blush when he pulls out of your hug and requests a spin.

“I appreciate that you got so dressed up for me.” He teases, hoping you don’t catch his eyes sweeping over your legs, wanting to commit you in this dress to memory.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours making sure you looked as perfect as possible. Hoping he doesn’t see the pile of clothes shoved into your closet from all the failed attempts.

“Never,” he grabs your purse off of the counter and opens the door, sweeping his arm out in front of him dramatically “after you. There are some strangers outside who are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, they just don’t know it yet.”

“You are so dramatic.” You lock the door behind you, using the moment facing away from him to collect yourself. Lately you catch yourself wondering if he'd always been so flirtatious, or if you're just forcing meaning behind his words because of how badly you want him to be.

“What, a guy can’t compliment his best friend?”

You smile widely at him and grab your bag out of his grasp, popping your key inside and walking toward the entrance of your building. Praying your fingers stop shaking when you finally get a drink in you. Haechan throws his arm around your shoulders while you walk down the street to your favorite cocktail bar and you're grateful for his usual chatter, talking to you about work and his slow climb up the ladder.

“They put me in a hotel this time, so you don’t have to worry about making me breakfast in the morning.” He smiles at you, sipping his drink gingerly.

“You know I never cook you breakfast.” He feels so far away across the table and you wish that you were sitting next to him instead, shoulders cold without the weight of his arm around them. It feels so good to have him touch you, to feel like you're his. There's a small part of you that feels guilty for using his knack for physical affection to your advantage, he has no idea what the heat of his skin on yours does.

“I know, but all the meetings are in the hotel anyway so it’s easier this time to just stay there.”

You try not to let yourself visibly deflate at the news, wanting to keep him for yourself the whole time he’s in town. His knee presses against yours under the table and you focus all your energy into acting the way you would have before, but you can’t focus on anything else and cross your legs to pull away from him as casually as possible. As badly as you want to touch him, sometimes you can’t.

“What time do you have to be up?”

He groans, leaning back enough that his knee now slides against your shin, “too early,” and glances down at his now empty glass, motioning to the bartender for another “which means you need to drink faster, so I can stop at a reasonable hour.”

You smile, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp, when his foot taps against yours you know it's going to be a long night.

The end of the night finds you together on your couch with a shared bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, his early meetings temporarily forgotten. You and Haechan have been in this position plenty of times, drunk, slap happy and overly touchy in a way that you had always been comfortable being with one another. The difference now is you, this version of you who wants your best friend in an entirely different way.

Every time he pulls you closer you feel electricity shoot straight to your heart so intensely that you have to duck out of his grasp. You don’t know what to do with the feelings that have been growing gradually from your toes up, now practically sprouting out of your scalp with a neon sign blinking “I’m in love with you” over and over.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Haechan whines when you all but flinch away from his hand reaching for his phone near your arm. He’d been aware of it all night, the space you left between the two of you while you walked back from the bar, your sudden inability to maintain the eye contact that he craved. The complete lack of physical touch makes him feel dejected.

“Doing what?” You give him a panicked look, practically sober at the thought of being found out, of what it would feel like to be rejected by him.

“You’re not letting me touch you,” he frowns, and the alcohol buzzes through your veins again “not that you need to let me, but you only avoid it like this when you’re upset. Did I do something?” he pouts, tired eyes low when he flops his head onto his bicep resting on the back of the couch. You forget to breathe for a second when he looks up at you under dark lashes.

“I’m not upset. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” you’re lying through your teeth, but scoot an inch closer to him to make your point. He doesn’t look convinced, and if you’d had less to drink you may have noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before he grabs you by your arm, knocking you off balance and into his chest.

“See,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arms around your body and you can feel his chest buzz when he hums, cheek pressed to the top of your head. You have no choice but to ungracefully shift your lower body closer to him, making yourself a sponge and soaking in his familiar touch “isn’t that better?”

You nod, “Yes, it is better.” and you really wish he didn’t know you so well, that even in his fifth hour of being drunk he can read your mind. He pulls your ear off his heart to grab your cheeks, smushing them together and whispering your name with a shake of his head.

“What is it?” he urges, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist to loosen his grip. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and count to three in your head before you can talk yourself out of leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.

You feel him falter for a half second before he’s kissing you back, pulling your face closer and pushing his body toward yours. You can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears when his tongue touches yours, and then suddenly his mouth is gone. He moves so quick you have to put your arms out to stop yourself from face planting into the cushion he had just been sitting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you gasp “i shouldn’t have done that, Haechan, I’m so sorry.”

It takes everything in you to look up to where he’s now standing with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. You have no idea what he’s thinking, staring down at you with wide eyes. Insecurity sweeps through you under his intense gaze, and you almost beg him to say something.

“I’m seeing someone,” the way the confession rings in your ears would have you believing that he screamed the words, but his voice was barely above a whisper “shit, I’m sorry.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your life that flashes before your eyes, or your years of friendship with him, at this point the two tend to blur together.

“That’s-” you sit back on your calves and inhale shakily, knowing it’s not even worth it to attempt to fake any sort of excitement for him “why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, swallowing thickly and pulling his eyes away from your face to stare at the ceiling “It’s new and I didn’t know how. It just never came up.”

“Well then, I’m sorry that it didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came over me.” grateful that he’s finally the one avoiding eye contact with you so he doesn’t see your legs wobble when you stand “probably best to pretend that never happened. I’m just drunk and I missed you-”

Your name sounds so pathetic when he says it this time and you think it’s the eighth wonder of the natural world that you haven’t started crying yet. You shake your head instead, wishing so desperately that you had changed out of the dress you were wearing as you pull the slinky material down your thighs.

“Honestly, Haechan,” You regret your next words before they even hit the air “you should probably go. You have an early morning.”

The shock on his face pains you, but you can’t stand to see what you can only assume is pity growing in his eyes for another second.

“I don’t want to go, I want to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again and his shoulders slump in defeat, recognizing that you’d made up your mind.

“It’s okay.” He means it, shuffling forward and the look on your face is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. His breath catches when you shift away the inch he moved toward you, eyes locked on his and he can see the desperation in them before he hears it in your voice.

“Text me when you get to the hotel?” your voice cracks with a heavy mix of exhaustion and embarrassment that makes him nods once, grabbing his things and walking slowly toward your door. He turns to look at you, but his words catch in his throat when he sees your eyes begin to water, mustering up all his energy to offer what he prays is a reassuring smile before letting himself out.

You sink back into the couch when the door clicks shut, head hanging in your hands as the tears finally start to flow. You cry so hard you feel like you could throw up, replaying his rejection over and over in your mind, shame and regret coursing through your veins. Pure embarrassment heats your body at the look on his face when he told you he was seeing someone, and you’re not sure if it was disgust or pity in his eyes.

On top of the rejection, knowing that he didn’t feel like he could share something as big as meeting someone with you was a dagger to the heart, up until recently you had never kept a secret from him, and even this one you clearly couldn’t keep in for long.

You force yourself into the shower, scrubbing angrily at your skin under the scalding water. You get out once your fingers have pruned and your skin feels raw, avoiding the mirror on your way to your bedroom. You kick angrily at the dress you'd left on the floor, watching it land near the pile of outfits you had discarded while getting ready.

Haechan had texted you nearly thirty minutes earlier

“made it back”

you give it a thumbs up before turning your phone off, setting an alarm with the clock on your side table and letting the emotional exhaustion lull you to sleep.

------

Haechan is realizing that there is no way in hell that you need space more than he needs to talk to you. He tries to call you multiple times the first week after you kissed him but you never answered, and Haechan doesn’t want to push you to the point of no return. What he really wants is to go back in time and not leave you that night, but the pain in your eyes was so pronounced he couldn't bare to make it any worse. The only physical proof that you had kissed him at all being the stupid blue thumbs up on the text he had sent you that night. It's followed by a slew of reassuring texts, saying that he broke up with his girlfriend and if you would please just talk to him, that he's not mad.

This is the feeling he carries with him nearly two weeks later on the flight to you, when he’s sure that another minute of silence from you will kill him. By the time he gets to your apartment it’s almost midnight, so he knocks loud enough to wake you up.

When you open the door in a shirt he thinks might be his, Haechan knows he has no choice. He's speaking before you can say anything, before he can change his mind.

"I came here to tell you that I think you're being really stupid." He curses internally for the obvious nerves in his voice, your tired eyes widen with shock at his words.

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago you made me swear that I would tell you if you ever came up with a reason not to be my friend anymore. So I'm telling you now, I think you're being really fucking stupid."

"I'm not doing that" You defend yourself, tearing up at the sight of him. He pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and standing close enough to touch. He’s staring you down with pleading eyes, and you bury your face in your hands so you don’t have to look at him.

“Then why are you ignoring me? Why won’t you let me fix this?”

“I don’t know I just,” you inhale shakily “I don't know how to do it right now, not like this."

"Like what?" He hopes he already knows the answer, but needs to hear you say it, to know that you’re as serious as he is. Your mouth feels full of cotton when he forces you to look at him by whispering your name, pulling your hands from your face and his heart pinches tightly at the tears welling in your eyes "please tell me, please. Like what?"

"You already know," your bottom lip betrays you, voice weak beneath heavy emotion when you speak "I love you, Haechan. I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I fucked everything up, but I can’t undo it."

He feels his lungs fill with relief. Haechan steps forward to close the small gap between your bodies, grabbing your jaw to rest his forehead against yours. You falter, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you from going anywhere, he's practically panting and you can barely stand, dizzy with the feeling of him. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming when he whispers "You didn't fuck anything up."

He ghosts his lips over yours for a moment until he's sure you're not going to stop him. When he finally kisses you it's with years of pent up adoration, directing your arms around his neck and pressing his thumb firmly into your jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of your throat. He practically whines when your fingers tighten in his hair and your lips part for his warm tongue. His arm wraps around your waist so tightly you have to hinge backward to keep your mouths connected, gasping at the strength you didn't know he had.

He keeps your stomach flush to his own and kisses you until you're practically limp in his arms, pulling away to breathe. His eyes are shut as he rubs his nose over yours

"I love you, too. I've been meaning to tell you for a while." All the blood rushes into your ears at his words and you can't stop your biggest worry from spilling into the air.

“What if you change your mind?”

“I made up my mind a long time ago, there's nothing you could do to change it." He blinks his eyes open, pulling his face away from yours just enough to see you, the trepidation in your eyes makes him say your name quietly.

"It's only me, you know me," he assures you in a hushed tone "you have to know by now that you are my entire world."

You could laugh, only him, as if he hasn’t been one of the most important people in your life since the day you met. As if he isn’t someone who has seen you at every stage of it so far. It’s Haechan, who has always been funny, who has witnessed the worst sides of you and never made you feel bad, who has never left your side.

You kiss him again, fingers wrapping in tight fists around his shirt to keep yourself grounded. Haechan’s heart pounds happily in his chest and he hopes you can feel it this time, both hands nestling into your hair. He kisses you gently in an effort to slow down your urgent movements, moaning at the taste of your mouth. You fall into his rhythm easily, the way his tongue rolls gently over yours makes your body go up in flames. You move your hands to slide beneath his shirt, landing on the strong muscles in his back and teasing your fingers up his sides.

When you finally come up for air he stares at you for a minute before laughing, stomach tightening beneath your fingers when he does.

"What's funny?" you shut your eyes, leaning your forehead into his chest, letting the pretty sound ring in your ears.

"Nothing, I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a shrug, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head "I love you, and you love me back. That's all, that's how easy it is."

"It hasn't been easy at all, in fact my life has been very very hard since your birthday last year.” He pulls away from your head to ogle at you.

"My birthday last year?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, it had really been that long "God, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking idiot."

He's kissing you again before you can ask him to elaborate, grabbing hold of both wrists in one hand while he walks you backward and guides you up onto the counter as slowly as he has to in order to keep his lips on yours. His hips are the perfect height for you to wrap your legs around, gasping in surprise when he slides his hands around your ass and presses your core tightly against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You feel shy when you pull away to ask if he wants to go to your bedroom, feeling frozen in place when he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his plump lips swollen and red.

"Tonight, I'm just kissing you." Every cell in his body is screaming in protest at his own words. He can't express how badly he wants to do everything else, to recreate his dreams, to learn the parts of your body he'd never seen before. But he can't imagine doing anything but this tonight, just this; his lips on yours, your breath in his lungs and your body melting into his.

"Why?” your eyebrows pull together in confusion. You practically shiver with need, tucking your arms between your stomachs and burying your nose in his throat. His laugh buzzes against your face, rubbing his hands gently over your shoulders and trying to control his own breathing as your lips brush over his skin.

All he can say is, “Because I’ve been needing to for a long time.”

“How long?” You pull away from his chest, leaning back onto your hands and closing your eyes when he runs his own down your sternum and over your waist, groping at the flesh of your hips and trying not to regret his romantic side.

“Way too long.”

“Your birthday?” you ask, tugging gently at his shirt. He plants his hands outside of your legs to lean in close, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

“Much longer.” Your eyes widen in shock, and he interrupts you before you can question him “can we talk about it later? I have something really important to do tonight.”

———

He tells you that he's had feelings for you since senior year of college, when you kissed Jeno. He tells you about his plan to admit everything when he had seen you on his birthday, but that he was too scared. He assures you he ended his relationship the moment he got back home the previous week “because everyone has felt like a matter of 'when' it will end, not 'if',” He tells you that just two weeks of your silence hurt worse than any previous heartbreak, and you agree. And before you fell asleep next to him he tells you again, ‘I'm so in love with you.’ and shimmies excitedly when you say it back before kissing you until you can barely keep your eyes open. He holds your cheeks in his hands and practically lulls you to sleep with his tongue, plush lips pressing to yours so gently you can hardly feel them dotting around the rest of your face. He thinks he could do this forever before sleep finally catches up with him, his arm slung over your side to hold your face to his chest.

You wake up curled into a familiar side, your first emotion being giddy as the night floods back to you. Despite your obvious willingness to go further, Haechan had meant it when he said he'd only be kissing you. It made you crazy at first, but when the two of you were staring at each other in the mirror with shy eyes while moving through a nighttime routine you had gotten familiar with years before, you were happy he had the self control you clearly lack. The idea of him actually seeing and touching you in ways he never had before, of doing all the things you'd found yourself imagining him doing over the last year; it was overwhelming. Kissing until your jaw was sore and your lips were swollen felt easy.

You’re startled by Haechan’s hand reaching for yours, holding your palm and bringing your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to each one, “good morning.” his voice is deep and tired, mouth landing on the crown of your head.

"Good morning." You press your nose into his chest happily, gripping his hand in yours and resisting the urge to squeal with delight.

"What are you so excited about, me?" He teases, hand falling on your thigh to guide your leg up the front of his, stopping just below his crotch and you hope he's going to give you what you'd been wanting all night, for the last year.

"You, I just can't believe how happy I am." You admit, lifting your head off of his chest to smile at him. He pulls you right back down, kissing your lips once before rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He presses a hand over your collarbone and drags his lips down your chin and over your throat.

"You know, this means you're all mine now." he smirks against your neck when you nod, gasping when he sucks gently at the base. He has one forearm on the mattress, the other hand too gentle on your ribs. You can feel that he's hard and you immediately roll your hips up.

"Does this mean you're gonna do more than just kiss me now?" you intend to sound confident, but it comes out as a whimper. His nose brushes over your jaw before he presses lingering kisses to your chin and cheek.

"Yes, baby, if you'll let me." You nod eagerly, shifting your face so your lips are beneath his and sighing happily when he lowers his weight onto your torso, licking into your mouth. You shiver with anticipation when he pushes at your shirt, long fingers tickling up your side before landing on your breast. You gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over your already hard nipple.

Your impatience is overwhelming, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it up to his shoulders. He pulls away reluctantly, reaching one hand toward his back and pulling his shirt over his head. You gnaw at your lip, running your hands over his stomach and hooking your knees around his hips as much as you can while stretching your arms over your head.

“Cute.” he murmurs, pulling your shirt up and tossing it to the side. He gropes at your chest, tongue wetting his lips before he leans down to wrap them around one of your nipples. He’s trying to act without thinking, to let the dreams he’s had pave the path down your body because he knows the second he acknowledges his nerves he won’t be able to shake them off. His heart thrums when you gasp above him, arching your chest into his mouth. He’s greedy for your sounds, his hands squeezing your breasts together and licking between them to get to the other nipple. When your hips buck up into his he groans, pulling away from your chest and staring down at you with wondering eyes.

“Can I?” He feels unnaturally shy, leaning back on his calves and watching his fingers press dimples into the flesh of your hips above your underwear, tugging at the hem.

“You don’t need to ask.” He smiles, forcing you to sit by grabbing the back of your neck for a kiss. His fingers press into your clothed core and your hips roll into his hand. He sighs into your mouth at your desperation, torn between teasing you and touching you everywhere.

You can’t keep your legs from shutting around his arm when he pushes your panties to the side and slides his middle and ring finger up your wet center, circling over your clit.

You pull away from the kiss, blinking up at him and your mouth falls open when he presses firmly on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. His head hangs as he lets out a quiet “fuck” at your reaction, moving his hand off your neck to stroke over your stomach and without it behind your head you have to lie back, he presses your legs open. Haechan stares at your chest while he settles between your knees, pushing two fingers inside your dripping core. His jaw hangs open, watching his knuckles disappear inside of you.

“So soft,” he breathes, staring down to where his fingers glisten when he pulls them out to rub over your clit again, palming over his cock getting harder in his sweats “want to be everywhere at once.”

“Want you everywhere.” you whine when his fingers pull away to hook into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Haechan stands to strip and you hold your breath and soak in the soft swell of his hip that leads to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s pretty like the rest of him, and thicker than you'd expected with a leaking tip that matches the color of his tongue, he strokes himself once and you don’t get the chance to reach for him before he lays back on the bed, rolling you to sit on top of him. You shudder when your pulsing clit rubs over his stomach, inner thigh squeezing into his ribs. He runs his hands up your waist, scooting you an inch higher and grabbing onto your tits.

“Do you remember a few months ago, when you called me drunk and I told you I was dreaming about hanging out with you?” He shivers when you grind down in response, wet pussy sliding easily over his skin “I lied.”

Your hands press into his chest, tilting your head “what were we doing?” you can barely speak above a whisper when he pinches gently at your nipple with one hand, the other rubbing over your ribs when he smirks up at you.

“You were about a foot higher than you are right now,” you gasp and reach out to grab the headboard when he jolts his hips to move you up his chest, staring down at him with wide eyes as he shifts to wrap his arms under your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs.

“You dreamt about this?” you let him bring your hips to hover over his face, hands falling into his hair when he brushes his nose over your clit as he nods.

“All the time,” he moans and drags you down onto his face, lips wrapping around your clit. You shudder above him, letting some of your weight collapse into your heels and he groans happily at the pressure of you on his chin, pressing you harder onto his mouth to fuck his tongue into you. He wants to devour you, every sound you make goes straight to his cock which is already rock hard at the taste and smell of you. Even just thinking about the fact that it's your hips grinding over his face right now is enough to make him moan into your pussy.

You slur out praise, one of your hands shooting up to grip the headboard. His hands wander gently up your sides, eyes opening to stare up to where he plays with your tits, hard cock pulsing at the sight of your head thrown back, hips moving in gentle circles over his face. Haechan’s hand tugs yours down to his hair, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into the empty air at the feeling of you all over him. He hums happily into your pussy when you start to grind over his mouth, flattening his tongue for you to ride until your legs are shaking.

He lets out a deep “mmhmm” when you warn him that you’re going to cum, suckling hard on your clit until you’re practically begging him to let you go, body crumpling forward with both hands tangled in his hair. He's grateful you didn't touch his cock, just the thought of your fingers wrapped around him is enough to make him cum and he has other plans.

You can’t speak when you collapse onto the mattress beside him, immediately warmed by the weight of his body on top of yours as he slots himself between your thighs, sucking a hickey onto the front of your throat.

“Taste too fucking good,” he hums, mouthing over your chin and cheek “been dreaming of eating your sweet pussy for so long.” you practically swoon when he kisses you, pre-cum wetting the inside of your thigh when he relaxes his stomach onto yours.

“Hyuck, want you in me, please” Your vision is blurry, whining into his swollen lips. He works them over your cheek before pulling away from you, bringing one of your legs up to his shoulder and you rest the other knee on his hip. He can feel himself pant when he taps the head of his cock on your swollen clit, practically drooling when he sticks barely the tip inside before pulling back and repeating the tantalizing motion.

“Been waiting for too long to be teased,” you pout, trying to encourage his hips toward yours with the ankle he’s not pressing his cheek into. He smirks and circles his leaking tip over you again, watching his cock spread your arousal around before he pushes into you a little further.

“I’m taking my time with you, feels so fucking good.” He can’t look away from between your thighs, messy hair hanging over his forehead while his fingers grip your ankle tightly. You whimper when he pulls all the way out again, one more hard tap against your pulsing clit before he pushes himself halfway into your leaking pussy. You rise onto your elbows, trying to reach one hand to grab for his hip but he releases the base of his cock to stop you by lacing your fingers together. When Haechan finally looks into your eyes he bottoms out, stretching your leg toward your chest so he can lean in. His hips stutter, a choked groan rumbling deep in his chest.

“Oh my god, Hyuck please.” you beg him to move with a gasp. His forehead presses to your chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fuck, baby, been needing you," he thrusts into you slowly, lifting his head to look down at you glowing beneath him with your eyes shut. He pulls out all the way before thrusting back inside, quickening his hips when your eyes flutter open, the look on your face enough to make his balls tighten slightly, shutting his eyes to regain self control "knew you'd feel so fucking good."

"M’so full, Haechan." you moan at his words and the rapid slap of his hips on the back of your thighs, forcing your eyes to stay open so you can see his face. The way his nose scrunches with focus when he pulls away from your chest, both his hands wrapping firmly around your hips while he watches his cock sink into you. Brown, shaggy hair sticks to his damp forehead, full lower lip taken between his teeth. He’s pure, unadulterated boyish beauty, and he’s all yours.

You squeak when he lets your leg drop off his shoulder, pressing your thigh as far open as it will go with your heel digging into his backside. He fans his fingers over your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to push your clit side to side and your hips tuck up for more pressure, Haechan moans loudly when the movement causes you to clamp around his cock, "Perfect fucking pussy, can't believe it's mine now. Like my fingers on your pretty clit?”

You nod enthusiastically, letting go of your breasts to hold the backs of your thighs, Haechan's eyes move up your body to stare at your chest move beneath him, nipples looking sweet as candy. He’s dying to sink his fingers into the softest part of your stomach, the way you’re moving for him makes his mind turn to sand. You stare down to where his thumb is making circles over your clit, perfectly timed with the head of his cock bruising your g-spot. You feel a second orgasm build and the corner of his mouth pulls up proudly when your legs shake. Your head hangs back as you gasp for air, "yes, please, Haechan feels so fucking good."

"Make the prettiest noises for me, want you cumming all over my cock." he leans forward just enough to trap your throat beneath the weight of his palms, other hand still moving over your swollen clit. You smile at the pressure of his body on yours, eyes fluttering shut while you moan. You nod desperately when he asks if you can do that, "if you can let me make you feel that good, please, my pretty girl."

He takes his hand off your throat when you cum, wanting to hear every sound you could possibly make. You repeat his name like a blessing that has him cumming with you, moaning and breathless as his hips start to slow, milking you both through your orgasms.

You wrap your arms around him when he pulls out of you, reveling in the feeling of him when he lowers himself down, burrowing his face into your neck and warming your skin with his breath. You hold him there for a minute until he pulls his head up, dopey smile lighting up his eyes and making you laugh.

“What?” you scrunch your nose at him “better than your dreams?”

He nods, “so much better, best I ever had, my body belongs to you now.” he smirks at his own words, but his tone is so gentle he can’t even call it a joke.

“Just your body?” you tease, and he leans his nose onto your lips for a kiss that you carry onto the mole under his eye.

“Body, mind, heart, soul,” he sighs happily when you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently “all the planets in my head.”

"All the planets in my head too."

————

masterlist

authors note // this ended up being much longer than i anticipated, maybe the longest one shot i’ve ever actually written! i appreciate everyone who voted for happy ending because when i was originally thinking of a sad ending it was too hard lol. this feels forever unfinished because there is so much good to this version of haechan, i adore him.

#haechan #haechan fanfiction #haechan smut #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream smut #nct 127 fanfiction #nct 127 smut #nct fanfiction #nct smut

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astayinwonderland · 1 year ago

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NCT 127 ˜ Edie's Masterlist💚

Johnny

Taeyong

We can stay like this forever

Yuta

But this is a no-strings-attached thing

Doyoung

Jaehyun

I saw her first (+ Mark)

Jungwoo

Mark

I saw her first (+ Jaehyun)

Haechan

#nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fanfiction #taeil fanfic #johnny fanfic #taeyong fanfic #yuta fanfic #doyoung fanfic #jaehyun fanfic #jungwoo fanfic #mark lee fanfic #haechan fanfic #astayinwonderland #edie's masterlist

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vad-hander · 2 months ago

Text

MY SURGICAL SOULMATE

pairing: Johnny Suh x reader

genre: hospital!au, fluff, smut, some light angst, co-workers to lovers, Johnny is a doctor, y/n is a nurse, happy ending

warnings: language, sexual content (sex in a hospital, nipple play, unprotected penetration, thigh riding), mentions of surgeries and emergencies (nothing graphic)

words: 9k

synopsis: you have a perfect synergy with Johnny, whether it's you two matching each other professionally in OR or giving each other exactly what you need in bed. You click with each other in every aspect of your life and after one of your successful shifts together you realise you're ready to ask Johnny for the next step. Johnny's answer, though, flips around your outlook on the future of your relationship

______

You stepped into the hospital cafeteria, the scent of freshly brewed coffee immediately hitting your nose, mingling with the faint scent of antiseptic that seemed to always linger in the air anywhere you went within the building.

It was early morning, chatter of nurses and doctors filing the area despite the early hour, creating the backdrop for a very long shift ahead of you. As you entered, you spotted Johnny sitting at a corner table, a steaming cup of coffee in hand and a playful smirk on his face. He had already spotted you at the entrance, and by the look on his face he wanted you to join him.

“Hey there, early bird!” he called out, the teasing was palpable in the tone of his voice. He gestured for you to join him and you let him know with your gestures that you'll get the order and walk right to him. You ordered an iced americano, as you've already had your daily portion of wake-up coffee at home. Your eyes focused on Johny's cup of obviously hot beverage.

“Hey, sleep-deprived night owl,” you teased as you slid into the chair across from him. The warmth of his smile made your heart flutter in a non-colleague way. You shook the feeling away, taking a sip of the sweating drink in your hand. “Night shift?“

“Uh-huh, and about to rock through another one of those tonight. You?” he asked, sipping on a cup of just black coffee. Knowing Johnny, you were sure he asked for a quadruple shot of espresso or something like that to add to his drink. Johnny needed all the caffeine in the world after a night shift. You knew that like no one else did and more importantly you were absolutely on his side with that one.

“I got here 20 minutes ago. Night shift tonight, tho.” you added the second sentence with nonchalance so fake, you were actually embarrassed to look Johnny in the eyes for a second. You were sure he read through you already.

"Guess tonight won't be much of a torturous night, then.” both his brows raised as a suggestive smile adorned his face. You were supposed to keep your face straight. You even tried to force the corners of your lips downwards - it didn't help. You put your lips around the straw and looked at the table, leaving Johnny's words to hang in the air.

“Any important plans for today? Save a few lives? Go on a coffee run?” he asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes letting you know he didn't actually expect any response from you. His main goal was to make you smug, and he succeeded, ready to move on with his small talk.

You chuckled, taking a sip of your coffee. “A bit of both, I think. And definitely saving you from another awful cup of cafeteria coffee. I'll make sure to get you Paik's during the break.”

“Oh, I kinda was developing a taste for this dark substance,” he replied, feigning pain in his chest. ”You're the best, tho. I'll appreciate that.”

You smiled, basking in the easy banter that danced between you. "I hope I'll be able to appreciate your payback also." you took it a small step further, sinking in his proud smile. Johnny always appreciated people that were able to match him - whether it was in the OR or at the cafeteria or in his bed. You had enough time to learn that and bring him occasional satisfaction with your comebacks in all the right situations.

As the sun beamed through the ceiling window, landing on the side of Johnny's face, your brain couldn't help but fantasize. Moments like these, when the Gods above or some other power allowed you two to just sit and chat, have a little break before surgery calls and emergency after another emergency come one after another, these moments of just the two of you felt like a precious gift for you.

You watched Johnny take a sip from his cup, not being able to stop yourself from imagining how mornings like this could be a very normal routine for you two. How coffee dates before shifts, your laughter in unison echoing against the walls of the hospital can be your norm. How instead of coming in separately, you could just get to the hospital in one car, walking around with your fingers intertwined, giving support to each other. Having lunches together, leaving for coffee breaks with your team, having Johnny on your side. Taking the scrubs off at the end of a long day and basking in each other's presence until you're ready to go back home and hold each other in your sleep. You envisioned weekends spent in cozy cafes, playful debates over which pastry was superior, lazy afternoons where you would curl up together with books, both of you lost in the words, but still making sure to give each other a little sweet touch.

But for now, this was all just a dream, a fantasy tucked away in the depths of your heart. You merely smiled as you enjoyed the present moment. You maybe were taking the slowest baby steps in history of baby steps towards this life, but given your insane schedules, you were moving with super speed. As long as Johnny found comfort in you - you were happy, because he was your comfort. For the past year he's been all that and more. Gentle, polite, understanding and caring. Love and all those relationship things, duh, they obviously lacked - but if he chose you every time for a whole damn year, it's pretty clear those things could also come. With time.

Suddenly, the intercom crackled to life, cutting through your reverie. “Attention all staff. Code Blue in the ICU. All available personnel, please report immediately.”

The lighthearted atmosphere shattered, replaced by the urgency that came with the call to action. You exchanged a glance with Johnny, both of you instantly shifting into work mode.

“Looks like we’re up,” he said, standing and offering you a hand. You grabbed onto it, as he pulled you to stand. As you wondered if he'd maybe planned to drag you by the hand, he let go and grabbed both his phone and wallet.

You also collected your belongings, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you rushed toward the ICU. The two of you moved around the hospital sharing glances as you navigated through the chaotic environment. You had spent countless hours together, and the unspoken understanding between you was palpable. You could anticipate each other's movements and were about to prove that on a patient. Every shared look and gesture felt like a language of its own as you worked in unison your magic. People in your ward knew that you were like a perfectly tuned mechanism when it was about an emergency, they found pleasure watching your duo get work done with high professionalism.

Johnny's fingers pressed against the elevator button about twenty times at once, you held your breath, only taking one in as the door finally opened.

As you arrived at the patient’s side, you fell into the rhythm of the urgency around you. Johnny getting you to work the second he got to the patients bed.

“Y/n, can you stabilise the airway?” Johnny asked, glancing over at you standing at the bedside. “We need to intubate immediately.”

“Yes, Dr. Suh. I’m on it.” you replied, your hands steady as you prepared the intubation kit, the familiarity of the routine comforting your brains in this chaos. More nurses ran into the ward, ready to provide immediate help. Nurse Kim forced passersby out of the ward, stopping people from peaking. Nurse Kang stood with panic in her eyes, moving her head at the exchange between you and Johnny.

“Make sure we have the suction ready,” Johnny instructed, his eyes never leaving the patient. “Their breathing is shallow, and we need to clear any obstructions fast.”

“Got it,” you said, your voice steady. You glanced at the monitor. “Heart rate is dropping—currently at 40 bpm.”

Johnny’s brow furrowed. "Grab an epinephrine syringe. We need to get the heart rate up.” Johnny addressed nurse Kang, Seulgi seemed to be affected by the emergency, not giving a reaction to what Johnny said. “Nurse Kang, prep the epinephrine!” he called out with a bark. She finally unfroze and rushed to get the adrenaline. Johnny seeing her in action turned his focus back to you. “Nurse Y/N, how's it going with the airway?” the tone of his voice got back to collected steadiness.

“I’m almost there, just a few more seconds,” you replied, your voice also steady, Johnny's presence and confidence in what you were doing gave you enough to stay calm. Seulgi was on her 6th month of work - if you were her, you'd probably also freeze at the sight. You made a mental note to comfort her afterward - Johnny wasn't a villain - he just wanted people on his team to put in work to save his patients.

“Make sure to keep the head tilted back and chin lifted. Let’s get the tube in hand,” he instructed, positioning himself near you - to assist if necessary.

With a deep breath, you inserted the laryngoscope, carefully visualizing the airway. “I have a clear view. Preparing to place the tube,” you said, your focus unwavering.

“Good work, now do it smoothly,” he coached, instinctively placing a hand on your shoulder for support. “Let's start with just one smooth motion” his fingers dropped from the shoulder down to your waist. You felt a wave of heat run over your body. Johnny didn't really make moves on you during work or generally in public. This felt weird and out of place despite making you all flushed. You shook his hand off before anyone noticed.

You shook his hand off because he was making your hands unsteady, and you weren't about to risk someone's life because of a man.

“Got it,” you affirmed, reassuring yourself as you advanced the tube into position. With a practiced motion, you secured it and connected the ventilator. “The tube is in place and confirmed. Starting ventilation.” you vocalised your actions like you were in the OR a very handy habit when you worked in a team.

“Excellent,” Johnny said, glancing at the monitors as they began to stabilize. “Ventilation settings are good—let’s keep an eye on those vitals. How are we looking?”

“Heart rate is rising—now at 60 bpm,” you reported, relief washing over your voice.

“Good!” Johnny instructed your colleague as you cleaned up the mess you made in a rush, not focusing on his instruction.

“Fluids are going in.” you announced.

Johnny nodded, pride evident in his tone. “We’re not done yet, Y/N. Prepare to move to surgery. They're not stable enough to hold here.”

You looked up at him, and the intensity in his gaze confused you. “Sure, Dr. Suh.”

“Okay, nurse Kang. Prepare the surgery room!” Johnny commanded. You realised he wasn't addressing you.

It was a long and intense surgery, but the two of you proved once again what it meant to be compatible colleagues, each of you knowing exactly what the other needed without having to say a word. It was in moments like these that you felt truly alive—adrenaline pumping blood in your chest, the connection deepening between you and Johnny with every passing moment.

When the surgery was over, you were dragged into another one right after you sat your butt down for a break. Right after your daily nurse routine you were once again in OR because quote - Johnny could only bare another surgery for the day with you in his OR. He was tired and mad over his previous surgery, he needed you for things to go smoothly. And you could never say no to that. You were a sucker for being needed by Johnny Suh.

So when that surgery was finally over, you felt a rush of relief wash over you. You stepped out into the quiet of the hallway, your shoulders unwinding as the tension lifted. You were finally, hopefully, free for the night. You found yourself back in the staff lounge, settling onto the well-loved couch in the corner of the room. You were hoping to have a calm rest of the night, just fall asleep and wake up in the morning, when you'll be dismissed to go on your merry way. But first, sleep.

“Insane day, huh?” Johnny quipped, leaning back against the couch, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. You've dreamed of moving somewhere calm for the past three years, but you had exactly the same face expression. You were exhausted, but you were happy with the work you've done today.

You chuckled, the exhaustion hanging in the air “Yeah, one more not that bad of a day in our ridiculous ward. You were great in OR,” you replied, warmth flooding your chest as you felt Johnny fold and rest his head in your lap. You touched his shoulder, your fingers running over his arm in a soothing motion, swallowing a gasp as your fingers trailed his bicep. It felt like saving people made his muscles grow bigger by night.

“Thanks, but what makes me look great is a good team. Today has proved once again I can only trust you in this hospital.” he said, his tone sincere, something lingered behind his eyes that made your heart flutter.

"Shush." you covered his mouth with your palm.

"Should I confess?" he moved your palm away, gripping onto your fingers and you gave him a barely-there nod. You were expecting some sort of banter out of his mouth. "My 48-hour shift kinda washed away by your magic touch. If you want to-." he sat up, changing his position so he'd sit facing you. Johnny's palm cupped your face, and as he caressed your lower lip with his thumb - all tiredness washed away from your body also. "I could close my payment for today's Paik's?" you opened your mouth to shoot some flirtiness back at him, but his thumb was in front of your mouth and you simply gave his finger a lick instead of an answer.

Johnny pulled you onto his lap within the same moment and smashed his mouth against yours. Fear of being interrupted either by another blue code or a colleague made your mouths move faster. As Johnny got you onto his lap, your mouths already were exploring each other's tongue. His fingers raised the scrubs up your body with a confident movement, he had no time and energy for teasing.

Johnny's focused gaze sent a flutter through your chest as his fingers danced across your breasts, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he approached your nipples with his tongue, bending his back in a ridiculous angle. His lips grazed your tender skin, fanning his breath over previously touched areas, making arousal drown your panties.

Johnny's mouth continuously send rushes of pleasure through your body, washing away post-OR tension. He knew damn well nipple play made your body relaxed, helped you to unwind and forget about blood and bruises you saw behind that door. Johnny made sure he could ease you down even in the shortest time he was given. Today and always.

His mouth was soft yet firm, knowing just how to coax pleasure from your body. Your nipples peaked under his touch, responding to his action. Johnny's tongue suddenly felt cold as blood rushed to your sensitive bud. As Johnny worked his mouth over your chest, your thighs subconciously rubbed against his. You felt the bulge in his pants grow heavier, making it harder for you to keep the pace and keep at least a small fracture of your brain sane. You felt like you could quite literally rub both of you to release.

Johnny whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Just relax, let me take care of you." You gripped onto his shoulder, you loved it so much when Johnny was caring for you like that. You loved so much how he paid attention to your bodies' response. You slowed down with your hips, allowing him to take the lead in your pleasure. Johnny sucked in your nipple, your nails gripping onto his nape. His tongue played with the swollen bud, while his lips were giving pleasurous pressure. You tilted your head backwards, enjoying the care Johnny was giving you.

You loved all the things he did to you and for you, but for a funny reason it never crossed your mind to tell him that out loud. Tell him you loved him taking care of you. You loved that he cared. You loved him. God, this was such a forbidden territory. And absolutely unrequited also. The only reason you held back in talking feelings, was Johnny's absolute indifference for such a topic. And also because you never before felt that determined to have him as your boyfriend.

Johnny's mouth moved in a slow, rhythmic pattern. The sensation was exquisite to you, and it took your breath away and made you think even more how you genuinely never let him know how you felt about him besides fucking. How you never told him that recently you were in extra good mood whenever you had a shift together. How him not replying to your messages was driving you insane. You only told him praises when he was balls deep inside of you. You told him how good he felt only when his tongue was drawing eights over your folds.

He never did that either, but in the very moment it felt like the most insane realisation - you and Johnny did not appreciate enough each other in your ordinary life. You felt an inching wish to change that inside of your heart now.

You tried to block in your head the fact you almost never communicated or met outside the hospital. By almost you actually meant never, because you were trying frantically to remember when you saw him last in his casual clothes outside hospital walls and the answer was nearing to a never. Maybe you just couldn't remember in the moment, your focus on Johnny present in front of you. His attention shifted to the other breast and it was hard for you to focus on anything. Your only focus were Johnny's lips, skimming across your skin, making you melt in him completely. It was as though he had put in effort into studying the intricacies of your body every time he saw you naked, you were convinced he mastered the delicate balance of pleasure and anticipation you enjoyed.

Johnny murmured, his voice low and husky. "Your body is incredible." You looked down at him, your eyes meeting.

Johnny smiled at you, licking into your mouth for a brief moment. His arm wrapped your waist, lifting you with just an arm to pull your pants down with the free one. Your arms were in his line of vision, trying to hold onto his face and lick into his mouth, while Johnny worked hard to return the kiss, but also tried to free himself from the material of his own pants.

As he was able to do so, you felt his cock spring up against your thigh. Your fingers wrapped around him blindly, your hand working him with just enough pressure to make it pleasurous for him. You smoothed pre-cum over his length, Johnny's mouth making a puffing sound as you squeezed your fingers around the tip. He didn't need your stimulation, he was hard and heavy in your grip as you continued.

You had no intention on stroking him for long, you needed Johnny inside of you immediately, rising to your knees and guiding him to your entrance. As you teasingly slid him against your wet folds, covering him in your juices, you almost lost balance at how good even that small action felt. Johnny gripped onto your waist, holding you in place as you continued to torture both of you.

You lined him up with yourself - letting go of him to wrap your arms around his neck and make your mouths also line up. Johnny moved his second arm to your waist - gripping onto you before you were ready to take him inside of you. Your mouth opened, you took your tongue out and licked Johnny's mouth, sinking down at the same time.

His arms immediately rearranged, helping you up and down his length in the pace that felt comfortable to kick off the intercourse. He did make you wrap around him pretty tightly with no stretching beforehand, but he was a little too obsessed with that feeling and you loved seeing his eyes roll back in pleasure. Johnny allowed for you to adjust, before he smashed you against him, as his patience wore thin and his wish of chasing his high overpowered everything else. Your mouths continued teasing each other, licking and sucking, adding up to the pleasure that was building where you connected.

Johnny's arm moved to your face, his fingers holding your face in place, as he lifted his hips up to meet you halfway, making sure he's able to watch your eyes roll to the back of your head with each thrust of his hips.

You came up with a rhythm, moving in unison, your hips making a motion towards him in circles, Johnny meeting you halfway with a nasty slap of skin on skin. His arms moved positions once again, gripping onto your butt cheeks. You knew he needed to make sure you were feeling all of him, he needed to fill you up completely, make sure that he angled you right, making sure that he was hitting your uterus.

"Fuck, Johnny." you moaned as he let go of your body, resulting in him nestling deep inside of you. You felt immediate pressure in your lower stomach, grabbing Johnny's now free hand before he began to move again. You pressed his palm over your pelvis, knowing for sure he could feel himself pressing inside you from here. The pressure in your stomach was borderline uncomfortable, but you would endure it for hours, knowing how badly it send Johnny into oblivion.

"Fuck." Johnny moaned, making a little move, keeping the hand accurately on the same spot. You lifted yourself up, sinking down in the same angle and feeling exactly the same pressure as before, Johnny's hand holding on to your abdomen to make sure he didn't imagine the feeling. You sure knew he didn't, he felt that handful of times, but every time his sex drive was through the roof after feeling himself squeezing down your organs. "Fuck." he repeated himself and moved.

"You're filling me up so good, Johnny, no one does it like you. You are so fucking perfect. God." you moaned in his ear. Your heart pacing like you needed to get in ICU.

Schedules worked in a funny way. It's been a week since the last time you've had a shift with Johnny and you missed him terribly. Right when you wanted to talk with him about your relationship and ew, feelings, you were separated. Almost like gods above told you to reconsider your decisions. But who were you to listen to advice.

The week helped you realise and reconsider - you needed to confess, you needed him to know, otherwise what was the point of this relationship? If Johnny wanted you in that way, he should be wanting you in other ways too. Or else, maybe you should annul the arrangement? The mere thought made your palms sweat. You had 7 very determined evenings to work out within your system whether you loved the man for sex or you loved the man because you loved him. You were certain it's not true love - but a very nearing experience at least. You had to if not confess - at least ask him about his feelings. Both of you have been virtuous in ignoring any and all sorts of conversation that would have you two making any sort of agreements and and any conclusions about this thing you were in. You were busy, Johnny, probably, even more so than you. There was no urgency to sit down and consider your feelings. Until the very recent week, obviously.

The day finally fell upon you. You clocked in, seeing Johnny's name two rows above yours as you filled in the needed paper work. You were back at the hospital for another night shift with Johnny. While the fact brought thrill down to your core, your feelings pressed heavier in your chest, washing away all excitement. You feigned confidence in front of a mirror in the elevator, but seeing his name so close to yours made it hard for you to swallow, drawing out scenarios of you bringing up the topic.

You weren't scared. You were purely nervous because you were either about to become a very happy taken woman or get your heart broken by the hottest man you've ever met. And being heartbroken at work wasn't on your list of to-do things for today. Or ever.

You glanced over at Johnny through the glass door, he was engrossed in a case file, the familiar warmth curling in your stomach despite the nerves. His handsome features focused and determined, as the patient continued their story, probably giving Dr. Suh details on their symptoms. You couldn't hear through the door. Johnny moved his gaze back on the patient, his head nodding rhythmically, while the nurse next to him wrote down a few things into the patient's file.

Johnny moved his eyes to the door - probably noticing a figure standing for a long while with no movement and wanting to shush them away. You raised your hand up, giving him a little wave as a hello. Johnny gave you a wink, his smile showing off his perfect teeth. As his eyes lowered back to the patient, the smile faded, his mind going back to work mode.

You bit onto your lip and walked away. Johnny wouldn't break your heart. He clearly has a thing for you, too. You convinced yourself, mood rising up with a click of your finger. Walking on that cloud of confidence, you felt like nothing could bring you down today. Not even those scheduled back to back surgeries.

“Been a little while since we had a shift together.“ Johnny bumped his shoulder with yours, giving you a little shock as he approached you from the back. "Thought you weren't big on the wending machine coffee?" he questioned your choice as you leaned to get the cup from the machine.

"Beggers can't be choosers." you took a sip and crinkled your face. "Nurse Kim had to leave early, something happened with her son at school, no one could cover for her. Automatically I had to take care of both her and mine patients. No time for a coffee run." you walked away from the machine with Johnny by your side.

His hand fell onto your shoulder, you raised your head to see his face - what was the intention behind that touch? There wasn't any, you could tell by his face. Just a neutral smile plastered on his face. "I seem to be quite free tonight. Want me to help with left patients? Or I could run to get you a coffee."

"Can't make a doctor do the nurses job." you couldn't even imagine Johnny putting drippers for patients. It's not like he can't, but you were sure chief of your ward would get you fired the same moment he sees Johnny do your job.

"Okay-" Johnny clearly wanted to suggest the coffee run.

"Also can't make a doctor run errands for me. Thank you, though." If he was the boyfriend, though-. You wouldn't mind him doing that.

"Think of this as me running for a coffee for myself. I also haven't had a good drink because of you." His lips made a little pout, and you couldn't hold back a thought how kissable those lips looked.

Your brains fogged and you agreed immediately. You can't say no to a Johnny that begged to take care of you. "If that's the case. I'll have an iced Americano. I'll transfer you the money, thanks."

Johnny's mouth got closer to your ear. "It's okay if you'll pay me back with the payment I usually make. You're on the night shift, right?" his brows raised in a playful manner.

"i am, but I also may be dead tired after tonight." you raised your brows matter of factly. You weren't sure you'd be able to give him anything tonight, if he won't ask for cuddles. And he won't ask for that.

"I'll ask for 5 shots of espresso, then, for your drink" you chuckled, Johnny letting go of you, speeding up to get the coffee. "Wait, did you also not have any lunch?" you shook your head a no. "What would you do without me?" he shook his head dissaprovingly and walked off, making your heart tremble.

"Are you the nurse?" an old lady asked you, taking you out of the trance.

"I am." you gave her a nod, the brows furrowing confused.

"My neighbour snores so loud I can't even-" you began to nod, walking the lady away from the corridor.

"Special delivery for the best nurse in this hospital!" Johnny announced, not even 30 minutes later. You were filling in some patients files, other personnel minding their business next to you, before Johnny's voice silenced all the other noises in the corridor.

"Who would that be?" Nurse Lee smirked, you wondered if she hoped that was her.

Johnny snorted, laying his palm firmly on your shoulder. "My surgical soulmate, obviously." You wondered if someone in the hospital had a clue about the nature of this relationship. Besides truly being totally compatible work-wise, of coruse.

"Thank you." you smiled, not paying much attention to the man. You were hoping he'll put the coffee cup next to you and leave. But he didn't and you had to actually raise your head to see. "What's that?" your brow furrowed.

"Special delivery?" he smiled teasingly. You wondered what was up with this sudden burst of friendly affection in public. Did he miss you? Did he also had a change of his heart and wanted you two to date?

"Yeah?" you nudged him to continue that sentence.

"You didn't get to have your lunch, I brought you lunch." he announced loud enough for the personnel surrounding you to hear that, also adding in a brow movement. I'm a very nice man, you see.

You clearly felt astonished. That did not sound like Johnny at all “You did?“

“Well. One more question and it's going back with me." he jerked back a little with a threat. You didn't feel like risking your food. You straightened your back and looked at him with polite eyes.

"Thank you, doctor Suh." you made up a smile and reached for the bag in his hold. With utter respect for the man in front of you, you reached with both your hands firmly, adding a little bow as you expected him to let go of the bag and let you finish work in peace. You had to make sure people noticed the two of you being strictly professional, surgical soulmates. And surgical being the main word, underlined three times.

Johnny pulled the bag closer to himself and made you unsteady on your feet. "Nuh-uh. I have a feeling you won't take off to eat right this second and the food needs to be eaten right now."

"What's in there?" You let go of the bag completely.

"Come with me, I'll let you see." Johnny gifted you a smirk and you flushed. Your eyes ran over the room, people already losing their peak interest in this conversation and carrying on with their duties. Good, because if you were reading between the lines correctly, Johnny was suggesting sex. Even before the sun set? He can't be serious.

You voiced out your concern "Huh?" you cackled flabbergasted.

"Come." Johnny gestured and grabbed your elbow, walking you somewhere else. His office, you later worked out. Johnny locked the door and you started to doubt even more, whether or not he wanted to make sure you ate at all.

Johnny walked over to the table, placing the bag there. As he walked out of the way you also noticed the promised coffee cup.

"You could've just texted that the coffee's at your office."

"And would've waited for you to take it for hours. I needed to summon you right now." Johnny talked with his back to you, until he plopped on the couch, spreading his legs in an unmannered way and looking at you. Was he inviting you?

"For sex?" you asked straightforward. You had no time to tip-toe around the topic. Johnny made a low giggle like you were the most ridiculous person he knew.

"Jesus, for food. I brought you dongaseu, you definitely have to eat it now before it gets soggy." he had a point.

But also, how the fuck did he know you liked dongaseu? "How did you pick what to get?" you asked, walking closer to his table. Your fingers quickly undoing the knot on the bag to dig in.

"You had it maybe 80% of the times we had lunch at the cafeteria?"

"I did?" you looked at his face. If he cared to remember something like that, he'd probably considered you as someone he cared for. If you were someone he cared for, didn't that mean asking him for a next step was a given? Doesn't that mean that maybe now, is the perfect timing?

You sat down, taking food out of the bag and opening boxes. You took a sip of your coffee to have a little energy burst and looked at Johnny who leaned his head against the wall, dozing off into the ceiling.

"I wanted to talk with you." you started off from afar.

"Yeah?" Johnny focused his eyes on you, the tone of his voice soft.

"You know, how w-." a knock on the door interrupted your words. The handle shook a few times from behind that door.

"Doctor Suh?" one more knock. Johnny quickly moved over to the door, unlocking it and blocking the view of who the person was. "The patient, we admitted him today in ward 23?"

"Yeah?" the tone of his voice completely different to the way he asked you.

"He asks for your immediate presence." you could hear the panic in the nurses' voice.

"What happened?" Johnny was unmoved by her stress. Collected and even a little annoyed, you'd say.

"I don't know, he doesn't tell us. He asks for you, he seems out of his mind?" you pressed your nails into your palm to keep your mouth shut. You really had a wish to step in and help. If you would've brought a doctor every time a patient threw a tantrum, you would've been jobless by now.

"Can’t you deal with a patient yourself?" the woman stuttered in reply, Johnny sighed. "I'm coming in a second." he turned back at you, but didn't say a thing, looking back out the door. "You can go. I said I'll come in a second."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Thank you." she bowed out and disappeared.

"Shit." Johnny cursed under his breath, looking at you. You probably looked disturbed, you were ready to drop the food and be of help with your entire being. "I'll come back, just wait for me here, okay?"

"It's okay. I'll come another t-."

"No, hold on to that conversation. I'll return." You swallowed a smile, giving him a nod. "Lock yourself from the inside, just in case anyone wants to bother your lunch." you nodded once again, locking the door a moment after Johnny left the room.

You quickly finished off your meal, sipping on coffee, your back resting against the couch. You weren't big on sleeping during day time even with your hectic schedule but the couch at Johnny's office always had that special power of lulling you. You rested your head on the headrest and maybe you could blame food coma for this, maybe it was just your tired body - you closed your eyes and fell into a sweet dream. Your mind took to your -you hoped- nearest future. You hanging out on this very couch when you had some time for a break. Your body wrapped in Johnny's hold, his fingers caressing your shoulder blade while you take in comfort and steadiness of each other. Your personal little hide out from all that craziness behind the door. You could dream of that for at least an eternity. Knocks on the door took you out of slumber. You dropped your feet back on the floor, focusing on the noise behind that door - if someone else was looking once again for Johnny, or it was him that returned to you.

Knocking repeated, in a comforting thumping of Johnny's fingers, you were sure by now it was him. You quickly unlocked the door, peeking through.

Johnny swept you off your feet - quite literally. He stormed into his office, not forgetting to lock the door behind himself. As you tried to give him space, his arms scooped you in his hold, lifting you up and crossing the room back to the couch. He sat down and sat you on his lap all within a moment.

"Wha-?" you gasped as Johnny's fingers sneaked under you scrubs and held your naked ass. "The sun has not even set, Doctor Suh." you teased, your palms finding their place on Johnny's chest.

"Got scheduled an emergency surgery tonight at nine. Won't be done for at least five hours." his fingers pushed on your skin, forcing your core to slide up his thighs.

"You're not asking me to do the surgery with you?" you pouted, moving your arms to Johnny's neck, to get your faces closer.

"I can't. You said you've already worked for two people."

You cooed, leaning into him. "Why are you so caring? Don't tell me you have feelings for me." you teased, making it painful for yourself. If he'd reply with yes, I do, he'd make your life so much easier. You'll just have to tell him 'I do too' and let him sweep you in a passionate kiss. Your heart trembled a little, as you were expecting an answer.

Johnny closed the gap between your mouths and kissed you. You kissed him back, expecting him to pull back any moment and give you an answer. He didn't.

His fingers traveled up your back, lifting your clothes and searching new skin available with his mouth. Your hips moved a tad bit forward, feeling Johnny getting harder under you.

Johnny's tongue flicked your nipple "You wanted to talk." he suddenly remembered, straightening his back and looking you dead in the eyes, your clothes falling back to cover you.

You were in no mood to talk about your feelings now, when his hard cock was giving pressure to your not any less turned on cunt. You really didn't want to ruin the mood. "Now's not the time." you chuckled, crawling your fingers over his nape.

"Why?" Johnny's fingers kneaded your ass once again.

"I can't keep my train of thought when I'm this close to your cock." you kissed his mouth, hoping the conversation's over.

Johnny pulled you back, his arms peeling yours off of his nape. "My curiosity makes my dick soft. Just tell me." he actually had the audacity to push you off his lap, forcing you to sit next to him on the couch. If only he knew that your next words could possibly turn him off of you for forever. "Is it the hospital?" he asked carefully, seeing you shuffle with your fingers over your lap.

You were desperately coming up with a topic that would not divide your life to a before and after. Nothing was coming to your brain in this forced down from a high panic. "No."

"It's personal, then? Did something happen?" Johnny turned to face you, his knee bumping with your thigh as he moved around. "You can tell, I'll do my best to help you." your eyes finally met his comforting stare. Johnny read your face expression too well, he mirrored your level of worry in concern. His fingers even found yours for support and you wondered if he imagined something terrible have happened like one of your family members died or something worse.

It was, probably, worse. You wanted to know if you had a chance to become his significant other. You wondered if he wanted you besides the sex when your nightshifts matched. "It is, personal. But it's not something bad."

"Okay? You can tell me." he squeezed your palm in his hold. But you were confident it's better to lose any and all physical contact with Johnny to be able to have that conversation.

You moved your body a little further from him, being nervous to an extent where you stood up and turned away from his stare. This way you could imagine you were pacticing this conversation to the wall and not to the very alive and very real Johnny behind you. "Ugh-." you swallowed. "it's about you and I." you sighed and closed your eyes. "We've been seeing each other like this for over a year. Recently, I've found myself needing more. I need more of you, Johnny." you turned around, startled immediately as the man you talked to got in front of you. “I can’t keep doing this—whatever this is between us. It’s more than casual now, and I believe we should be brutally honest with each other. I can’t preten otherwise.” you said, trying your hardest to keep your tone steady.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” he replied, surprise coursing through his voice, but it was quickly overshadowed by something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I do. But I feel like it's so complicated. This… whatever we have—there’s so much more at play here than we like to pretend. I realised I feel so much for you, and I can’t keep doing this not knowing if there’s a chance for a future. Something more for you and me.” The admission hung heavily in the air, your heart racing.

He took a moment to respond, his expression shifting. “Y/N, you know I care about you a lot." you had a feeling a but was approaching you. Your heart shuttered before the 'b' left his mouth "but I can’t provide a healthy relationship. My schedule is fucking insane. I can't provide myself with enough sleep, I can't promise you a relationship off the bat. Dating while being a surgeon in emergency ward is an insane job.”

"And I'm not worth of putting in work?" you took a step back. The question was stupid. It wasn't the question you wanted to ask, you wanted to tell him no relationship can be perfect right off the bat. It needed work and you were willing to do that for him. You'd meet him halfway. But instead of all that you spat venom and shut down.

Disappointment flooded through you as you laced your fingers together. You took a deep breath, not being able to hide away your disappointment or the way you wanted to leave the room. This here really didn't go the way you wanted it to. Your heart was working hard to keep pumping blood, to keep you steady on your feet and keep you reasonable. Though it clearly failed with the last part already. You were two adults talking about a casual relationship - you had to keep yourself collected and coldblooded. At least Johnny seemed pretty casual about the conversation. "Jesus, this is absolutely not what I meant. I didn't know you wanted a boyfriend, I never gave you a reason to think of me like that. I thought we were on the same page here."

"I see." you swallowed. It was too hard to keep yourself straight. Your heart was crumbling, your feet giving up on you. Your head? It was just dizzier by a second and you wondered when will Johnny dismiss you. He very much put a full stop to everything that was happening between you before. You just needed to say your goodbyes and take off.

His gaze hardened slightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t change everything just like that. We’re still young, if you suddenly want to settle, you deserve something better than what I can give you with a job like that.” it stung. His words stung like a bitch and you found it hard to hold back your sobs. You still, though, held them in like a champ.

Despite that, you felt your heart shatter at his words, each syllable landing like a crushing blow. “So, you’re telling me I should just walk away?” you replied, voice trembling, stretching your resolve to the breaking point.

“I'm saying if you suddenly think about your future, you should put a full stop to this and look for someone else. Someone, who can give you their all.” Johnny said, but he didn’t look or sound convincing enough, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. You couldn't understand why would he drop the most important part - you didn't want any boyfriend - you wanted Johnny as the boyfriend.

A wave of frustration rose inside you, and without thinking, you blurted, “You are so fucking right, I can’t waste my youth on this. I can't waste my youth on you. This feels … empty. You're fucking heartless, I should've guessed that by now. A man that sees so much misery and death for a job can't have a heart.” your eyes closed automatically, holding in tears that were treacherously trying to flood your face.

You turned away, the wound opened wider as you did so, the weight of your words crashing down.

Johnny didn’t respond, and within the silence, you forced yourself to step back into the reality of your relationship. You backed away, tears welling in your eyes. “I can’t do this,” you said quietly, shaking your head. Your eyes trained on the door, your feet already taking you towards it.

“Y/N, please don’t go,” Johnny pleaded, trying to reach out to you. He just told you to go away, and he's already asking you to stay. You felt sick.

"I'm sorry, Johnny, I'm sorry I brought this up. It's better to rip off the band-aid early." even though you didn't rip it off early, it's been a long fucking while of you two living on different planets. You turned and fled from the room.

You rushed through the hallways, every step echoing the finality of everything that had just been said, guilt and regret overwhelming you. You felt his presence behind you, calling out your name, but you weren't sure you weren't hallucinating. Maybe it was just another episode of your wishful thinking. You needed to escape, to reclaim your heart, but you had no chance to do so. You had to stay at the hospital, mere meters away from the man you despised, despite loving so much.

In this moment of pain and clarity, you knew you had to take control of your choices. You could no longer linger in a world where everything felt uncertain. You had to prioritize yourself first, even if it meant leaving what you once cherished behind. Even if it meant avoiding Johny from now on, losing your surgical soulmate. Losing the only reason work never felt too shitty.

As you disappeared into the hospital, going around to check on your patients the weight of heartache sat heavy in your chest. It was a little difficult paving your future and avoiding Johnny. Avoiding him at all costs, begging your friends to switch shifts with you. Trying to avoid him as much as possible when you still ended up in the hospital on the same shift.

You were thankful Johnny gave you space, you felt appreciative when he asked for a different nurse for his surgeries. You felt great even, when those nurses would come out of the surgeries all frustrated with his behaviour. He was always strict and dissatisfied with their way of working. It stroked your ego. Not once did he bad mouth you during the surgery.

Even if you didn't mean a thing to him in that way, he suffered surgery-wise and it made you feel better.

He deserved to feel that.

Rejection stung like a bitch. Even a month later.

You were so perfect at avoiding Johnny that at one point you relaxed and rolled with the flow. And that was very much a crucial mistake. "Hey, Y/n? Can I have you for a word?" Johnny's voice sounded like a thunderbolt in the clear sky as you passed down the hospital corridor. You felt confused and then realised you forgot to check who from the surgeon personnel was assigned for today.

You faced him, feigning ignorance. "What is it?" Johnny instead of a reply pushed a piece of paper in your hands. You gave it a look. It was a vacancy in a hospital on the other side of the city for the nurse position. Your first immediate thought made you choke on air.

Did he want you to change your job - what a fucking bastard, you chocked on air once again at the audacity. You almost smashed your palm with the piece of paper against his chest. If he was uncomfortable it's on him to change jobs, not forcing you to give him what he wanted.

"It's a job in planned surgery ward. No emergencies, 9 to 5 on weekdays, free weekend. Well, emergencies do happen, but they're more of once in a blue moon situation. Nothing compared to here." he quickly explained, as your eyes searched the paper with confusion.

"Why?" You asked with a scoff. You wanted to hear the words come out of him and itched to slap him.

"I had an interview there, they're giving me a job offer. I said I'll think about it." Your heart broke in pieces instead. He didn't want you to leave. It was him who was leaving. Not seeing Johnny at work everyday will take a toll on your life. Even though you avoided him for a whole month, it still gave you mental strength knowing you shared a job. You still loved him, despite calling it quits. You blinked multiple times at him to process.

You couldn't work out why exactly did he show off his new hospital to you. Go on your fucking merry way then, coward. You really wanted to tell him just that. If he wanted to see a reaction - you would not give him the pleasure. "Ah-. Why are you letting me know? Congra-" you stuttered, though, not being able to talk properly. It suddenly hit you. Nurse position? He clearly didn't get a job offer for a nurse position.

"I told them that giving my girlfriend a job with me could be a breaking point for my decision." his eyes raised suggestively, you couldn't understand what he was doing. Did he really want to destroy you mentally on his last day here?

"You have a girlfriend now?" you blinked to not cry. You didn't mean to ask it out loud, but since it already came out - you said fuck it. This was officially the worst day in your life. And Doctor Johnny Suh was officially the most cruel man on earth.

Johnny smiled at you, giving you a soft chuckle. "I don't know yet. Her brain seems to be not working this morning."

"What?" you asked confused and then suddenly gasped and closed your mouth with both your hands, letting the piece of paper fall. Johnny bent to get it up for you.

The nurse vacancy in your hands, the hospital move and the girlfriend proposal all hung above your head in a moment. He wanted you to be his fucking girlfriend. Wanted you to move jobs with him. Completely out of the blue decision. Didn't he say he didn't like you in that way? Or you imagined the conversation?

"You let me know pretty clearly you didn't reciprocate the feelings-."

Johnny took a step towards you "I was looking for ways to make some time for you, after what you told me. I haven't been able to sleep properly since then, I realised I needed you more than I imagined. This month completely ruined me, I just wished I could have you back by my side under the title you'd be happy to. I found this job so I could make time for you. I will have actual time to put in work for us. Night shifts are still a thing, especially for nurses. But I will not be in surgery as much, this ward only do them planned. I could pick you up and take you home and spend all the possible time in the world with you, adjusting to your shifts. I realised that I wanted this too. I want you too. I like you too, I want your presence in my life more than it's possible to imagine. More than I imagined I could feel and want." Johnny touched your elbow, so you'd give him a reaction. He caught you after a night shift - you were exhausted and now overwhelmed too. You were so confused as to what was happening, but at the same time so certain you'll go anywhere if that meant being with Johnny. If he wanted you as much as you wanted to go with him. "Ah, you're crying? You're my backbone. How are you crying?" Johnny hugged you, giving your temple a little kiss. You crushed under his touch, breaking down completely and wrapping your arms over his waist.

"Johnny, do you understand that I've loved you for some time now, and I thought I've lost you completely." you sobbed into his chest.

"I know, sunshine. I did think I lost you forever too. I'll never let us be separated ever again, okay?" he gave you a moment to collect yourself. You were overwhelmed with how being sure that you two were done turned into this. "I'll give them a call then, will tell them we're ready to start working when they are ready to take us. Right?" Johnny pulled you back a little, looking at your face and capturing your lips with his as you gave him a nod.

don't forget to like and follow for more <3

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softsan · 10 months ago

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˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟑)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past.

Click.

You choked out a silent cry, your vision darkening as your world closed in on you.

Taeyong’s hand was trembling, his gun still pointed against the base of your skull. He let out a hopeless gasp, his chest relentlessly pounding.

He had pulled the trigger. You were supposed to have died by his hand. He was to end your beautiful existence. He was to snuff out the brightest light to have ever entered his miserable life.

“Taeyong!” His partner cursed “Hurry up and do it!”

“I’m out of bullets,” Taeyong said, no louder than a whisper.

He slowly pulled the gun away from you, relief washing over him.

“She trusted you,” Your brother spat, his voice laced with venom, “She trusted you and you stand over her to fire a bullet into her brain!” He thrashed the chains which tied to his wrist, against the hardwood floors.

Taeyong’s partner laughed. “The weak don’t deserve to live.” He circled closer, offering his loaded gun to Taeyong.

Taeyong’s hand felt numb as he accepted the gun.

“Take the brother out. He talks too much.”

Taeyong stared at the cold metal between his fingers.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

He didn’t.

Taeyong fired. Blood splattered against the white walls. The roar of the gunshot echoed endlessly into the night.

You wanted desperately to pry your eyes open, but your eyelids felt so heavy. Your body ached; your limbs groaned. Your lungs felt like fire, screaming with every shallow breath you took.

“So, this is Silas’ precious daughter?” A woman taunted, her voice growing louder as did her footsteps.

Father?

“Silas’ most prized possession,” She almost sang, “Just look at this priceless cage he built to keep her safe.”

“There is no such thing as safe,” A man added to the conversation, “At least not in our world.”

“Who cares?!” Another said impatiently, “Let's get it over with and kill the bitch.”

The woman chuckled as you felt the patter of her icy fingers graze across your neck.

“The four crescent-cut diamonds,” Her voice softened, delicately holding up your golden necklace. “I’ve only heard about it in rumors, who would have thought such an exquisite piece actually exists.”

“A memento!” The older gentlemen exclaimed. “For us, the new rulers of this unforgiving land.”

“There are only three of us and four diamonds?”

“Never mind about that.” The woman cut in, “We still have to kill the little girl.”

I don’t want to die. Your lips refused to move. There’s so much I still haven’t done...

The barbed steel wrapped around your neck, messily cutting up your flesh. It tightened, strangling around your throat.

In another life, you wouldn’t make the same mistakes. In another life, you wouldn’t be friends with Taeyong.

Present.

You stared stonily at the food laid out in front of you. Despite, the constant rumble of your stomach you stubbornly held your ground.

“If you behave, then I'll sneak you some dessert.” The young man tried to bargain with you. You had quickly learned his name to be Mark.

“I’m not hungry,” You turned your nose.

Mark scratched the back of his head, unsure how to handle you. After all, you were Taeyong’s distinguished guest, if any harm were to come to you, Mark would surely lose an arm for it.

In Taeyong’s absence he had Mark set up security cameras, guards, and twenty-four-hour patrols. All to ensure you stayed in Taeyong’s residence.

Mark heard the buzz from his phone. It was Gracie. He rejected the call. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He wouldn't underestimate your will to escape.

The last time he was briefly distracted, you’d managed to shatter a window with your bare hands. Mark had just caught you in time before you were about to launch yourself out of the third-story window.

Mark remembered the long-hanging curtains. They danced in the wind as he desperately applied pressure on your bleeding wounds.

“Please just don’t try anything stupid again.” Mark squeezed his eyes in frustration, “I’m already down an arm.”

You slightly tilted your head not following the last part.

“Taeyong’s so going to cut another one-off, if you keep harming yourself.”

You glanced at your bandaged hands, reminded of your recent antics.

“So please stay put and eat something.”

Just as you were to refuse, you heard the bedroom door burst open. In came a disheveled Taeyong, his hair a mess, his tie loosened around his neck.

“I won’t let you starve yourself.”

Mark let out a sigh of relief, saluting his boss.

“You can go,” Taeyong released Mark from his duties.

“Ah, and about my arm boss?”

“Leave.”

Mark wasted no longer, quickly scurrying outside the room and closing the door behind him.

“Y/N.” Taeyong addressed you.

Unease bubbled in the pits of your stomach, your heartbeat picking up. You refused to face him, instead pretending to study the embroidery of the pillowcase on your lap.

“Y/N?” He said again,

You squeezed closed your eyes, wishing he’d stop.

“Y/N?”

“Why did you bring me here?” You broke, your voice quivering in unrest.

“Y/N.”

“Why?” Your eyes revealed themselves, glistening as you held back tears.

Taeyong’s chest sank, he didn’t have any worthy explanation. All he knew was that he wanted you, he’d always wanted you. He needed you here, here beside him.

Taeyong kneeled by your legs, his face upturned to you.

“If you want to kill me. Then do it." You plucked up the courage, "Please don’t torture me.”

Taeyong shook his head, his brow furrowed. He didn’t have such intention. How could he possibly get you to believe him?

Taeyong stood up unexpectedly. You raised your bandage hands to shield yourself from the blow you expected. Taeyong’s guilt swelled, it tore threw him like a bullet grazing his heart. All of a sudden he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into your hair. He clumsily apologized, over and over.

You went rigid, unsure how to react.

“I’m so sorry,” His voice crumbled, “I’m so sorry for everything Y/N.”

“Just one bite,” Taeyong offered sweetly, a spoonful of cooled soup hovering in the air.

You grimaced, childishly avoiding his spoon.

“Please,”

“Not until you untie me.” You quibbled, using your chin to nudge in the direction of your bound wrists.

Over the last few days, Taeyong stayed by your side. He’d talk, sometimes about trivial things like the weather, other times he’d share stories about his boys. He’d watch the movies he let you pick, otherwise, he’d watch you whilst you read books off his bookcase.

Despite, your best efforts not to directly interact with him, you found yourself less and less frightened of Taeyong. His concern, his benevolence—you despised the part of yourself that saw the resemblance between this Taeyong and your childhood friend.

Taeyong lowered the spoon and placed it back into the bowl, “If I untie your wrists you’re going to try an escape through the window again,” His eyes flickered towards your bandaged hands, “I can’t have you hurting yourself.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “I won’t do that again.” You willed yourself to grumble the words.

Taeyong’s tired face flashed upward, a hopeful smile growing on his lips. He reached down and undid the knot that secured you to the chair. While the silk rope fell to your feet, you stretched your arms, bending your wrists back and forth.

“Eat,” He pushed the bowl towards you.

It had been a while since you’d last given up and eaten the food presented to you.

I do have to conserve my energy...

You slowly picked up the spoon and scooped up some soup. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you’d been until you tried your first mouthful. The rest of the soup was quickly devoured.

Taeyong was content you were eating again. He watched you, adoring the cute scrunch your nose made when a droplet of soup touched it. He had every urge to wipe it away with his hand but held back in fear of startling you.

“Would you like some more?”

You shook your head, knowing even if you were to say yes, Taeyong wouldn’t be the one to leave and retrieve it. If you wanted to get rid of Taeyong you’d have to try a lot harder.

“I’m actually quite sleepy.” You faked a yawn, rubbing your eyes, “I’m just going to take a nap.”

You plopped yourself down onto Taeyong’s mattress, pulling the duvet over your legs. Over the last few nights, one of your arms had been tied to the bedpost to prevent another reckless escape attempt. Taeyong, however, had also been in the corner of the room perched on an ottoman. His hawk-like vision never wavered from you, fearing if he’d close his eyes, you’d simply vanish from his presence.

You observed the dark bags under his eyes and his sickly pale complexion.

“You should leave and get some sleep,” Your tone was neutral, “Or I’ll just escape when you pass out from sleep deprivation.”

You noted the alarm on Taeyong’s features by your use of the word ‘escape’.

“I’m joking,” You tried to keep up the little repour you’d built, “But you really should get some sleep.” You lay down on the pillow, turning your back to him.

After a short pause, you heard Taeyong begin to move about. A silly part of yourself thought perhaps he was heading towards the door. You were wrong.

You felt the other side of the mattress slump down. Before you had a chance to move, Taeyong coiled his arms around your frame, pulling you close against his chest.

“What are you doing?” You stammered.

“Making sure you don’t leave.” His breath tickled down your neck.

All tempts for an escape tonight were futile. You sighed, sinking into him. There was no way he was letting go of you tonight.

Past.

“She’s dead.”

Taeyong was frozen from shock.

She can’t be. Y/N’s not dead.

After all he’d done to ensure you’d come out of the massacre alive. Shujin, his partner was lying to him. He had to be.

“That can’t possibly be true.” Taeyong’s voice trembled.

“It is,” Shujin grinned, “Too bad you ran out of bullets. You could have made her death quick. Painless. Instead, she died a slow and agonizing death.”

“No,” Taeyong’s voice cracked, his eyes watered, “You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not,” Shujin almost sounded gleeful.

Taeyong’s vision blurred, his knees buckling until he hit the ground. He had purposely emptied his magazine before entering the room you were in. He had foolishly thought he could be the one to save you, but instead, he’d been the one to prolong you’re suffering.

Present.

“Does it hurt?”

You were beginning to doze off, begrudgingly finding Taeyong’s warmth quite comfortable. Your bodies were snuggled close, your legs intertwined together.

“My hands are okay,” You absently mumbled.

Taeyong reached for one of your bandages. He brushed his fingers across them.

“And what about the scar on your neck?”

You didn’t answer, sleep had come too soon to consume you.

You must have been dreaming when you felt lips sweep across your neck, leaving a feathery kiss on your scar.

NETWORKS: -

MONI’S NOTE: Part three! I hope you like it! I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

TAGLIST: @advent-entertainment, @tyongluvs, @blackswann-53098, @straykidsftnct, @justineasian, @jaehyunpeachyy

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lavenderbexlatte · 3 months ago

Text

Golden Age (Part 2: Kangaroo)

nct 5.9k words female reader insert Reader x Lee Taeyong x Ten Lee (feat. nct ensemble) suggestive/NSFW

🖤 warnings: non-idol au, quarter life crisis au; self-esteem crises, men with no jobs, men with many jobs, my personal love/hate relationship with kim doyoung, mentions of/jokes about sexual orientation, kissing the bros 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

💛series masterlist

part 2: kangaroo.

Kangaroo, the bright pastel café on the ground floor of the same building that houses Pado, is an adorable and Instagram-worthy spot.

It’s empty when you arrive, save for one table where you spot the back of Taeyong’s silver hair across from a handsome and unfamiliar dark-haired guy.

But you pause in the door to stare, yet again, feeling ridiculous, at the staff.

They’re all pretty. Again.

The man at the kitchen door, the man at the coffee machine. One guy looks up from collecting dishes to smile and greet you, all dimples and wavy caramel-colored hair and straight pretty teeth, so good-looking that it makes you weak in the knees.

What is going on around here?

You decide that you don’t have time to figure that one out, and you approach the table where Taeyong waits.

The other guy is facing you, so he sees you first. A flat, analytical gaze, unimpressed eyes in a classical, beautiful face. Incredibly gorgeous, silky black hair falling perfectly around his face.

“She’s here,” the guy says to Taeyong, not breaking his weird eye contact with you.

Taeyong, for his part, turns in his seat and beams at you. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you reply, unnerved, glancing at him for a quick reprieve from the impromptu staring contest.

“Down, boy,” Taeyong says to his friend, waving a hand just inches from his face.

The eye contact breaks, and that sharp gaze goes down to the glass of iced coffee in front of him.

“This is Doyoung,” Taeyong tells you. “He’s harmless, I promise.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes.

“He’s mostly harmless,” Taeyong amends.

Doyoung brings the coffee to his lips, mumbling against the glass, “I just don’t know why you invited-”

You don’t get to find out if he’s lamenting your invitation to this brunch, or his own, because Taeyong interrupts brightly, “Sit next to me.”

Gratefully, you do just that, sliding into the wicker chair beside Taeyong. It’s a four-seater table, putting you diagonal from Doyoung, who is still grilling you with those cold and narrowed eyes as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Who else is coming?” you ask, praying that someone – anyone – is.

“I think Kun is going to take a break and come sit with us,” Taeyong says, with a vague gesture back toward the service counter. “And Mark said he’s coming.”

“Mark’s on his way,” Doyoung reports.

“You didn’t have a hangover after the other night, I hope?” Taeyong asks you.

You feel distinctly uncomfortable discussing the tame details of your previous night in this neighborhood in front of Doyoung. Maybe because of the way he’s watching you. Disapproving. Judging.

“No,” you say.

“Good. ‘Jun will absolutely take credit for that, though,” Taeyong smiles.

It takes a second for that soft in-joke to register. The water, you remember. Dejun gave you water. Right.

Doyoung’s attention has you distracted to utter embarrassment. All the feelings you’d had at the bar, about how ridiculous it would be for a man like Taeyong to be interested in someone like you, are coming back in spades.

Of course, his friends are judging you. Of course they don’t trust you. Little old you, coming out of nowhere and inviting yourself to their brunch just because someone was nice to you.

You were invited, you didn’t invite yourself, but that logic means nothing when faced with the plain reality that at least one person at this table thinks you don’t belong here.

Two, if you count yourself.

Luckily, you don’t get much time to stew in your personal hell, because Mark shows up and saves you.

The glamour from the other night is nowhere to be found, as he slings himself into the chair beside Doyoung, cozy in a hoodie and thick glasses. It takes the attention away from you, Doyoung’s face softening as he looks up and takes in Mark’s nonstop jabber.

“-only a little late,” Mark is saying. “Hyung, you really gotta find out whose G Wagon that is, because-”

A quieter voice, right beside you, makes you jump. “Come order with me.”

You glance at Taeyong, startled.

“We order at the counter,” Taeyong says. “Come on.”

It’s an escape, and you take it.

As soon as you’re out of direct earshot – Mark’s loud enough that you can still hear him plainly, but that’s a different beast altogether – Taeyong wilts.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would be that way,” Taeyong tells you.

“It’s okay,” you say.

But Taeyong laughs wryly. “No, It’s not. Doyoung is protective and it’s sweet, but he’s spoiled by having friends who just kind of indulge his attitude. He doesn’t always remember that he comes across as a giant dick to other people.”

“He doesn’t. I didn’t think-”

“You look like you’re gonna be sick,” Taeyong interrupts.

Well, maybe you are a little nauseous from the negative attention. But it’s fine.

You honestly like that Taeyong has friends who care about him that fiercely. It means he’s earned that much love from them. Generally a good sign.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“He needs to be nicer. I’ll talk to him,” Taeyong promises.

“No,” you say. “No, he’s just trying to protect you.”

You don’t think it’s your place to explain exactly how much you simultaneously hate and understand and appreciate Doyoung’s hostility and the obvious love behind it. You don’t think you could succinctly explain it if you tried. So you don’t.

But Taeyong seems placated.

“What do you wanna eat? If you’re really okay,” he grins.

He hands you a menu.

The man behind the counter has been waiting patiently during your little exchange, but now that attention is on his café menu, he leans over the counter toward you. He’s the dimpled one who greeted you earlier. His name is stitched into the breast pocket of his t-shirt, in neat English. Kun.

“I recommend the fresh fruit pancakes, or the soy sauce pasta. Depending on your taste,” he says.

“Kunie thinks up most of the food here,” Taeyong tells you.

Kun beams at you, but the glance he sends at Taeyong is exasperated. “That’s how it works when you own a business, hyung.”

You’re perusing the menu, but your mind isn’t focused on the food.

First Johnny and the rest of the bar staff at Pado, and the way they let Taeyong behind the bar despite him not working there. Now Kun, who is apparently the owner of this café and is also going to join your party for brunch.

Two businesses in the same building, where Taeyong seems to be close personal friends with the owners and operators.

It makes sense, considering that Itaewon is a small world with an even smaller business sector, but it also makes you suspicious.

Suspicious about what, you don’t really know. But suspicious.

You decide on your meal, anyway, and you tell Kun.

“Good choice. Best dish we got,” he tells you.

“Would you’ve said that no matter what I chose?” you ask, smiling for maybe the first time since you arrived.

Kun laughs. “Hey, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’re digging for your wallet to pay as he teases, but Kun stops you.

“No, no. No need.”

You glance at Taeyong, but speak to Kun. “Is he paying? Because I can pay for myself.”

“Not him,” Kun corrects. “On the house.”

“On the house?” you repeat weakly. “No, I can-”

“Sorry, but it’s my café, not yours. On the house,” Kun repeats.

This is not a sustainable business model, but you can’t force the guy to take your money. Arguing is not something you feel like doing right now, so you just nod and let it go. You could slip him cash before you leave, maybe. Sneak it to one of the other staff members.

Taeyong orders several things, you assume for himself and for Doyoung. He doesn’t pay, either.

And then back to the table you go, where Doyoung has relaxed considerably with the help of Mark’s bright and boisterous company. He’s still talking about the G Wagon, as near as you can tell, and Doyoung looks genuinely interested.

“-parking permits, but-”

“I think that’s more than even I can do,” Doyoung says.

“Yeah, but I think if Johnny-hyung-”

“You need to order,” Doyoung interrupts.

It’s like he doesn’t want to be at the table with you for any amount of time.

Taeyong seems to think so, too, because he gives Doyoung a shoulder check as the other half of your party takes their leave. They exchange a look that Mark completely misses as he bounds away, calling out to Kun, and you do your best to ignore it, too.

Microanalyzing people isn’t usually your game, but then again, you’ve never met so many people at once who do things that need to be microanalyzed.

You’re alone with Taeyong again, side by side in those squeaky wicker chairs. You wish you could fully enjoy it, not so lost in your own thoughts. Not so self-conscious. How do people do this?

“I never bothered to ask, do you live far from here?” Taeyong pipes up suddenly.

“Oh,” you say, “Oh…”

He’s beaming. You take a moment to judge if telling the truth would make you sound dedicated or desperate.

“It’s a little bit of a ride,” you admit.

“And you let us drag you out again?”

You shrug. “I was interested.”

Understatement.

“I hope the food’s worth it,” Taeyong says. “But don’t tell Kunie if it’s not. He’s sensitive.”

His good humor is just so easy to fall into. You find yourself relaxing a little.

“You have work tomorrow?” he asks, next.

“Why the interrogation?”

“Last time we only talked about me and the guys. Us.”

You shift in your seat, tension leaving your limbs. “Seems like Mark loves to talk. I don’t mind letting him.”

Taeyong laughs. “Great observation, but I wanna know about you.”

The window to tell him about you is narrow, but he does his best to get it all. Your job (normal, boring, pays the bills), your apartment (normal, costs too much), all of your most recent biographical details (summarized as well as you can), he asks questions like he’s being paid to do it.

He is very strange. You like it so much.

The barrage of questions only stops when Mark, Doyoung, and Kun come back to the table hauling artful wooden service trays full of food and drink.

“I wanna go back in time and tell Chenle to go fuck himself when he suggested the wood trays instead of the plastic ones,” Kun says, as he sets down his burden.

“They’re pretty,” you offer.

“Pretty,” Kun repeats. “That’s what Chenle said. ‘Gege, the aesthetic!’ What about my sanity?”

You understand, then, what Taeyong meant. Sensitive.

It’s charming, though, and Kun is still smiling as he curses out the heavy engraved wooden trays and distributes the drinks. He gets every order correct, placing your delicate glass cup in front of you without a second glance.

The easy grace transfers right into the atmosphere, as the three men take their seats and strike up a new conversation.

Several times it strays to business things that intrigue you, names that you don’t know and situations that make you want to ask questions, but almost every time, Taeyong shuts that kind of talk down before it can go very far. That suspicion rears its head again. Baseless, itching suspicion.

These are nice boys, though, and you’re going to have a nice brunch.

It’s perfect, and it’s a disaster. Timing-wise.

The meal is finished.

Taeyong had just excused himself to the restroom. Doyoung and Mark are at the counter, chatting to Kun as he sorts out the register. And you’re left at the table, fiddling with your drink as one of the other staff members – short, round-cheeked – clears away the empty dishes.

“How was everything?” he asks you.

You meet his eye, with a quick diversion down to his nametag. “Great. Thank you.”

Renjun, if the embroidered name is to be believed, smiles, pushing his cute cheeks up even more. “Perfect.”

He’s stacking things carefully, and you’re ready to hand him your own plate, when the door to the café opens.

A man walks in.

You don’t believe in love at first sight.

But something similar must exist. Lust at first sight, intrigue at first sight. Something, because suddenly you’re burning with interest, blood pumping in your ears.

He’s blonde. Shaggy, fluffy blonde hair, teased into an artful mess. A singularly pretty face, strong features but a delicate impression, something between cat and siren. A lithe body under baggy clothes. On the shorter side, but you can’t imagine anyone being able to overlook him.

He lopes into the café, and he grabs Mark around the shoulders with a finely-muscled arm.

“Who-” You find yourself speaking before you can think, suddenly aware that you’re gripping your plate so tightly that your fingers hurt. “Who is that?”

Renjun glances up. He glances back at you. His expression is a picture of resignation, and amusement.

“That’s Ten,” he tells you.

“Ten.”

Obviously, Renjun mistakes your distress for confusion.

“I thought it was weird, too, at first” Renjun says with equal parts kindness and teasing, easing the plate gently out of your hands. “The name. But it suits him.”

Renjun excuses himself with the pile of dishes, then, leaving you to watch Ten and struggle with that feeling under your skin.

You only get a moment to yourself, though, because much too soon you’re hearing a shout of your name. Mark’s voice, drawing your attention. Mark is leading the other two over to you.

“-and hyungs have other plans,” he’s calling, apology dripping from his voice. “Sorry to, like, dine and dash.”

“That means not paying the bill,” Doyoung points out quietly.

Mark considers this. “We didn’t, did we?”

Doyoung rolls his eyes.

But you’re too busy freezing, deer in headlights, to appreciate the moment of humanity from Doyoung.

Ten is looking at you. Appraisal. Sparkling, intelligent eyes, a mean smile on his lips.

“Who is this?” he asks.

His voice is light. Airy. Dangerously pretty.

It’s perfect and disastrous that just as Mark begins to answer – “Oh, yo, that’s-” – Taeyong makes his return.

He drops into the seat beside you, so close that his thigh touches yours, warmth from his skin stark against the clammy nervousness of your own. You watch Ten’s knowing, probing gaze, in agonizing slow-motion, slide from you, to Taeyong.

“Hyung,” Ten says.

Younger than Taeyong, your mind registers unhelpfully.

“Did I leave my Loewe cap at your place?” Taeyong asks him, without preamble.

“Yeah. It’s on the cat tree.”

Taeyong recoils. “The cat tree?”

“Don’t freak out, you own a lint brush,” Ten says airily.

“Ten-hyung, the meeting is in, like, fourteen minutes, we gotta jet,” Mark says.

Older than Mark, you note, this time. Why can’t you think about anything important?

Ten hooks his arm around Mark again. “Fine, fine. Good to see you, hyung.”

“Thirteen minutes,” Mark says, tugging, “Dude-”

Ten turns his attention back to you, and that bizarre teasing coldness returns to his eyes as he scans you again, brazenly, up and down. “And…nice to meet you.”

Mark takes that as his exit. He grabs Ten right back, and drags him toward the door, Doyoung following with an incredulous expression on his face. You wonder, for a second, if he saw what you saw in all that.

Taeyong waves them out, seeming none the wiser to your crisis.

Once the door is closed behind the three of them, once it’s just you and Taeyong and the distant conversation among the café staff, Taeyong lets out a funny little half-laugh.

“I…also have to go to the meeting,” he says.

Now, that makes you smile. “You could have left with them.”

“I could have,” he agrees. “But I wanted to tell you that I had fun.”

“We didn’t do much,” you say, and after a beat, you amend, flustered, “Not that it wasn’t fun! It was! It just – I – you know.”

He doesn’t seem put out in the slightest, instead sliding a perfectly-respectable hand onto your knee and squeezing.

“Wanna go out again sometime?”

The next time you see Taeyong, it’s not at his invitation.

Not like he’s ignoring you, or anything. You text him plenty, and he’s even called once or twice late in the evening, treating you to a scratchy half-asleep voice that you think about for the next day straight.

But mostly, life is normal.

The only real change is the occasional invitation out.

The next time you see Taeyong in person, it’s at Pado again.

Jaehyun had texted you. It was an unknown number that had you scratching your head, when he sent you a bare-bones message in the middle of your Friday work day, inviting you to Pado that same night. It wasn’t until Mark texted to explain that it was his bad, that he gave Jae and the other guys your number without thinking to ask, that you understood.

And accepted.

Jaehyun, in the brief time you’d met him, seemed no-nonsense and clear-headed. If he wanted you to come out, it probably wasn’t a pity invitation.

Probably genuine, probably really wanting to see you. For some reason.

When you get to the bar, you find out the reason pretty quickly.

There’s a ‘Closed for Private Party’ sign on the door, handwritten in black marker on a sheet of ripped paper.

The bright little space is decked out with balloons and banners, all in a garish yellow sun motif. Only a few people, but all in party attire. Bright clothes, a lot of them yellow and gold. The bar is lined with pre-poured shots. Dress nice, be ready to drink, don’t worry too much. Those were the instructions you’d gotten. Apparently, everyone else got the same ones.

It’s a birthday party.

“A surprise birthday party,” Jaehyun tells you. “Kind of.”

He’s at the same table that you’d taken last time you were here, him and Johnny the bartender. You’d spotted them right away, when you arrived, slightly nervous and modestly early.

“What is ‘kind of’ a surprise?” you ask.

“When the birthday boy demands a surprise party and then helps you plan it,” Johnny says. “And then acts surprised when he comes in.”

You blink. “Who-”

“Haechan. Or, you probably – Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck, the bartender. From what little you know of him, that tracks.

“He’s just like that. He’s a Gemini,” Jaehyun adds, out of pocket, like he can read your mind.

“You don’t seem like the astrology type,” you tease.

“There was this one girl,” he shrugs, vague, “Couldn’t shake it even after she dumped me.”

“Tragic,” Johnny sighs.

You grin. “Who would ever dump you?”

“Girls love to dump Jaehyun,” Johnny sighs again.

You feel like that’s probably not true, but that’s a topic for another time.

“Not that I’m not happy to be here,” you say, “But why was I invited to this party?”

“You know Hyuck,” Jaehyun says, like it’s obvious.

You don’t know if meeting him once in passing could be considered ‘knowing.’ But whatever.

It’s been a long week. And honestly, it’s reassuring to know that people other than Taeyong want you around, rather than tolerating you for his sake. This whole situation is still a social whirlwind that you can’t believe.

You’d forgotten how sociable people who like to drink can be.

The bar fills up as you chat, the buzz of the crowd growing louder around you. Mark says hello when he comes in, and Kun from the café greets you with a hand on the shoulder as he beelines it to the counter. And two more men come over to hang at your table, nudging between Johnny and Jaehyun.

The first is a stranger. Long glossy black hair, a tight skimpy black vest with nothing underneath, the same caliber of good looks as everyone else you’ve met in these circumstances. Like there’s a visual requirement to get in the door.

“I don’t think you’ve met Hendery,” Jaehyun says.

“Guanheng. But Hendery is just fine,” the guy adds.

You must be making a face, because Hendery cracks a lopsided smile, showing slightly big, very straight teeth.

“International student first-world problems,” he explains. “Hendery. I like it, though.”

“It matches you,” agrees the other guy.

You peer at him closer, and you recognize the handsome face of one of the bartenders you’d seen the other day. the one in yellow. The one who flirts.

“Dejun,” he introduces himself, the name also ringing a bell.

“Dejun,” you repeat, trying to match how he’d said it, distinctly neither Korean nor English.

“Or Xiaojun. Or DJ,” he offers.

“I can handle Dejun,” you say.

He smiles. It makes his sharp nose and cheekbones look even sharper. And then he glances sidelong at his companion, taking in Hendery from head to toe, and his smile disappears so fast, it’s comedy.

“The hell are you wearing?” Dejun asks.

“I got a job at The BAT,” Hendery grins.

“Why?”

His smile doesn’t falter. “They needed someone and Johnny-hyung recommended me.”

Dejun fixes his pretty, derisive eyes on Johnny, instead. “Why did you do that to him?”

You can’t help yourself. “Is that another bar?”

“You could say that,” says Dejun.

Hendery elbows him, “Yes, it’s a bar.”

“They strip,” calls Donghyuck, passing by.

“Don’t say it like that. More Hooters, less Magic Mike,” says Hendery.

“Not the way I do it,” Johnny smirks.

His words paint a particularly vivid image, especially pared with Hendery’s scant outfit, but the alleged stripping isn’t the part that catches you.

You blink at Johnny. “Don’t you own this bar?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the point of working for the competition?”

Johnny snorts. “Yuta and Jungwoo aren’t competition.”

“The BAT is in the basement,” Jaehyun explains, singularly helpful.

“Of this building?”

“Three floors down from here.”

“These are also friends of yours?” you ask.

“Yeah. Jungwoo is coming up here tonight, I think. Soon,” Johnny peers around as he speaks, so much taller than the crowd.

Yet more bizarre information to file away in your mind, more names to forget in this infinitely-expanding circle of friends and business owners.

“I need a drink,” you decide.

“Shot are free,” Johnny says. “But so is everything else.”

“I’m not doing shots yet.”

“Yet,” Johnny winks.

He’s insufferable. You kind of love it.

As you wander toward the bar, you take the chance to scan the place. Taking in the other patrons of this private party, assuaging your own nervous curiosity.

In total, there are maybe forty people in the bar. Mostly men, but also more than a few beautiful, beautiful women. In the group of people nearest you, you can pick out one tall, graceful girl in a short rainbow dress, another girl in a tight silver turtleneck and a beret. You wish it only made you feel the warm pangs of admiration, but you can feel the sickly creep of comparison, too. Jealousy.

Beautiful women, to match the beautiful men that always surround Taeyong.

You find Kun behind the bar.

“Shots?” he asks you, with a greeting nod and smile.

You admire his dimples, as you reply, “You don’t work here.”

Familiar exchange, familiar bar.

“They borrowed me for the night,” he says. “Johnny-hyung wanted to get drunk, and he doesn’t drink on the job.”

“You agreed to this? Wouldn’t you rather party, too?”

Kun’s smile deepens. “It’s Hyuck’s birthday. He’s a little dictator. I was…politely voluntold.”

“And you’re a good sport.”

“I try to be. Shots?”

“Not yet,” you say, again.

You order something else, something that won’t immediately go to your head. Mixology isn’t your strong suit, but you’re nevertheless impressed by Kun’s nonchalance as he puts together your drink. He’s a barista, or a café cook, or something, and he’s slinging alcoholic beverages just as easily. Talented guy. It’s a good drink, too, in your unprofessional opinion.

When you get back to the table, pausing along the way to greet Renjun the waiter, Taeyong is there. You hadn’t seen him come in. He gives you a little smile, a pleased and catlike smile. He doesn’t seem surprised to see you. Only delighted.

The conversation, however, seems to have taken a turn.

“You got dared,” Johnny is saying. “You can’t wimp out of a dare.”

He’s leaning fully onto the tabletop, putting his height to use. Across from him, Dejun is standing pink-faced.

“I am not kissing Guanheng!” Dejun insists.

“I can make it a double-dare,” Taeyong offers.

Dejun looks wounded at the suggestion. “Hyung!”

“Why me?” Hendery complains.

Johnny just raises his eyebrows, and the implication is clear. Who else?

“Don’t be a baby. It’s just a dare. Right?” Taeyong looks at you for backup, and you raise your drink defensively.

“Not my circus,” you say.

“Not mine, either!” says Dejun, voice growing thin and shrill in his exasperation.

“If you’re worried about it being too fruity, all you have to do is kiss a girl, too,” says Jaehyun, still completely deadpan.

Hendery looks for a second like he wants to argue with that, but then he shrugs.

“That’s not how it works,” Dejun says.

Jaehyun’s dimples pop as he holds back a smile. “Sure, it is. Look.”

With a glance and a pause, Jaehyun dips to one side to peck Taeyong on the lips. Then he zeroes in on you, weaving around Johnny to get a little closer. The only girl within reach. You look at Taeyong, who’s laughing, and you decide, hell, what’s the harm. Jaehyun pecks you, too, just a brush of the lips, just to prove a point.

It makes you laugh, too.

Jaehyun focuses back on Dejun and Hendery, face a picture of serenity again. “See?”

You expect Dejun to argue more, but he just kind of nods.

“Rock solid logic, hyung,” Hendery says.

“Now it’s a double dare,” Taeyong says, decisive. “’Jun, I double-dare you to kiss Hendery.”

“I don’t want to kiss any of you!” Dejun insists.

Hendery’s eyes slide pointedly toward Jaehyun. “That’s not true.”

Dejun’s blush deepens. “I’m gonna go home, I swear.”

Part of you feels bad for the group effort of coercion, but then, part of you understands it completely. If someone reacts to teasing as dramatically as Dejun does, it’s irresistible.

“This is pathetic,” says Hendery.

They’re about the same size, same height, similar beauty and equal apprehension, but Hendery wraps himself around Dejun with something like eagerness. And surprise, surprise, Dejun’s arms immediately come up to return the embrace, an automatic action or maybe more.

From your angle, you can only see the back of Hendery’s shaggy black hair, but the nearer guys are watching with unmasked fascination as they kiss.

And it’s not a peck. It’s a kiss.

They pull apart. Dejun’s eyes are glazed over, his lips are too shiny. Johnny is doubled over, wheezing.

“Now kiss her, so you’re not gay,” Hendery instructs.

Dejun comes back to himself and sputters, “The – I’m not afraid of being gay, you guys just-”

“Then kiss her.”

Taeyong’s fingers playing mindlessly with the hem of your top make you braver.

“You don’t wanna kiss me?” you pout.

Dejun looks genuinely put out, like he’s worried about offending you. But you can tell that, really, he’s not in the mood to kiss the whole room.

Amused and endeared, you’re about to reassure him, when Hendery tsks.

“I’ll do it.”

Hendery materializes in front of you, then, a request for permission in his raised brow.

It’s nothing like the way he kissed Dejun (which, based on Johnny’s continued hysterics, must have included tongue or something). He gives you the same feather-light press that Jaehyun did, a ghost of a real kiss.

But you take hold of his shoulder, warm bare skin and the leather of his vest, and when he pulls back for a second you peer at him, hoping that he can read the mischief you’re feeling. You only just met Hendery. You don’t do this kind of stuff with people you don’t know. Or with people you do know.

Hendery understands, though, and he braces himself to lean dramatically to one side and kiss you again, deeper. Mouth slotting against yours, this time, fingers firm on your ribs and your cheek.

And ever so gently, Taeyong’s hand on the small of your back pushes you into him.

More than Johnny whooping, more than Dejun protesting loudly, more than Donghyuck’s nosy ass shouting over – “What, what am I missing?!” – you hear Taeyong’s soft, satisfied laughter.

Taeyong likes this.

Hendery laughs, too, when you finally separate. His is full-bodied, though, raucous. “Now that was a kiss!”

It seems like every person in your small circle is wearing a completely unique expression, running the gauntlet from aroused (Taeyong) to appalled (Dejun).

“Okay,” Dejun says. “Okay, I get it.”

“That could have been you,” Hendery tells him.

“That could have been me,” he agrees soullessly.

The drama of the moment passes.

Taeyong slings an arm around your shoulders. You can’t remember the last time you were held so casually. Affectionate, and close, and comfortable. He’s warm, and the gentle scent of his perfume – something light and no doubt expensive – makes the humanity of it even more real.

Kun rescues Dejun from further embarrassment, dragging him away to help at the bar. It’s fuller in here, now, more people than you would expect for a private party.

And as soon as Dejun disappears, Hendery and Jaehyun trailing away after him, others fill in the gaps.

Doyoung, wearing a pink crown and a tipsy smile, and another guy that you don’t know. They join you, Johnny, and Taeyong, the newest stranger dropping himself into Johnny’s arms.

He’s tall and wiry, fluffy brown hair nudging against Johnny’s cheek.

“Hyung,” he says, voice light and pretty and slurring just a bit. “Hyung. Hey.”

You would be paying this pretty new stranger more attention if you weren’t too busy being terrified of drunk, human Doyoung. He’s not being rude, and he’s not avoiding you. Is this what he’s really like, when he doesn’t hate someone’s guts?

“This is a good party,” Doyoung says to Johnny.

“Yeah?”

Doyoung nods, looking at you, now. “He throws a good party.”

You’re going to answer, but then you see Doyoung’s unfocused gaze slide down to Taeyong’s arm, hooked around you. The expression on his face isn’t quite as icy as usual, but he still looks put-out. Confused, a bit. His mouth opens, like he’s going to say something about it. He’s drunk, his inhibitions are down, and you’re about to hear what he really thinks. You brace for it.

But Taeyong speaks first. “Have you been enjoying the open bar, Doie?”

Like he’s being snapped out of a trance, Doyoung’s eyes snap back up to his friend’s face. “Duh.”

“These three are trouble,” Johnny tells you.

He shakes the guy in his arms roughly, making him yelp. “Hyung!”

Johnny is unconcerned. “Lightweights, all of three of ‘em.”

“I’m not,” Taeyong dismisses.

“Oh, I mean especially you!” Johnny replies.

Taeyong is indignant, “Jungwoo is so much worse. Look at him.”

Still half-limp in Johnny’s arms, the last guy pouts, mumbles, “You are so – that is so mean. You’re mean. Look at you.”

They’re not wrong, though. You can see Doyoung swaying a little where he stands, and this other guy is already flushing red all the way down his neck.

“This is Jungwoo,” Johnny says to you, shaking his captive again.

“The stripper?”

“Stripper,” Jungwoo says, still through his pout. “What have you people been saying about me? I own a business, excuse you.”

“Yuta owns the business,” Johnny tells him.

“And I help.”

Johnny just straightens Jungwoo up bodily, forcing him to stand on his own. The pout has not left his face, but you could chalk that up to his plush lips and round eyes. Maybe he just naturally looks that cute, all the time. Puppy-dog cute. You’re endeared.

“You help,” Johnny agrees, placates.

Jungwoo turns to Doyoung. “How could they do this to me?”

“Calm down,” says Doyoung flatly, unimpressed. “Go get another beer or something.”

“Hyung, my honor-”

You just watch as they bicker.

It’s odd, like every other social encounter you’ve had with Taeyong’s friends. Two of these people are in business, owning (allegedly, in Jungwoo’s case) property in this very building. You would assume, since they’re friends, that they’re in business together somehow.

Having enough money for that is difficult, but not impossible. It could be harmless, like some of them coming from family wealth. All it would take is a few fathers in big companies, knowing someone from school with a good tie to real estate. People rent buildings all the time, and it’s probably easier with friends.

But that gut feeling you keep having is back. The suspicion, the feeling that you’re missing something crucial.

Words enter your mind. Words like jopok, and chaebol.

Problems that you could be walking into, legal and social disorder that could be brewing under the friendly guise of these pretty, pretty boys in a pretty building right on the main street of one of the faithfully trendy and expensive parts of town. Not serious, necessarily, but messy. Complicated.

You could get in trouble.

But would you mind?

You’ve never been able to get out of your head long enough to enjoy things to the fullest.

Drinking with friends? You’re hyperaware of not drinking too much, not losing any belongings, not standing in the way or getting left behind.

Going out dancing? You want to look cool, but not too uptight, which leads to an awkward push-and-pull with yourself that is probably worse-looking than just letting loose and dancing all-out. Always aware of eyes on you. Even passing glances have you taking inventory. What are your hands doing? Are you standing normally? What does normal standing even look like?

You realize how much of a problem this is when you try to dance with Taeyong, two or three long hours into the birthday party.

He’s a good dancer.

Smooth and sexy, carelessly doing whatever feels good to the music. Every turn looks good, every smile is radiant.

You can do that, too. At home. Alone. Music in your headphones, no eyes on you.

Here, surrounded by strangers and acquaintances, you’re too aware of yourself. Too aware of how you look compared to Taeyong, next to Taeyong.

So every few steps, you find yourself freezing.

Relax, begin to dance, let him lead you into silly body rolls and let him pull you close, and then…freeze.

Too aware that there are people watching.

And people are watching.

Glances from people you don’t know, staring and laughing and teasing from people that you do. It’s not even a bad vibe, necessarily, not negative attention, but it brings your usual self-consciousness into full focus.

Donghyuck teasing you as he weaves past clutching Renjun’s hand, Hendery watching you with approving eyes as you press yourself to Taeyong’s front during an Afrobeat song, Johnny coming by to give you the strongest lemon drop you’ve ever had. Every bit of it drags you back into the discomfort of your physical space.

Taeyong must notice, but he doesn’t say anything. He just readjusts every time you retreat, lets you move closer and farther as you need. He’s so patient. He’s so nice. And you’re just…unable to match his energy.

You wish you could be anyone but yourself, as you do this.

You wish you weren’t so…

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