#NCT Fanfic

[kiszjuli]

𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ──── [𝐋.𝐃𝐇] 𓈒  𓈒  𓈒 

( 이동혁 ) ; 𝐟𝐞𝗺!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝗼𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐜𝐤

──── in which your parents had always told you to stay away from boys like haechan. boys with cocky smirks, black eye liner, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that came with warning labels. you never had a reason to listen until you were assigned to tutor him after school. it should have been simple. help him pass, get it over with. but there’s something about him that drew you in, and you didn’t want to pull away.

✦ drama, fluff/angst, slow burn(ish). forbidden love? ; tags. goodgirl!reader x badboy!haechan, suggestive, your parents are literal jerks, swearing, mentions of fighting, kissing !!, protective!haechan, corruption? but not really, lmk if i missed any ! ;

𓂃 w.c [ 15.3k / 22.7k ]

!! not proofread !!

▸ j.note ; i hadn’t planned on making this fic so long but emo haechan does something to me i guess. also pls pls give feedback i want to improve my writings in the best way possible and i know my writing needs a lot of work, so constructive criticism is encouraged.

▸ this is part one of two and part two can be found here .ᐟ

© kiszjuli 2025 ⟳ likes & reblogs are appreciated

you had never been the type to chase trouble.

your life had always been structured, predictable, mapped out like a perfectly folded brochure of all the things you were supposed to be. the good daughter. the responsible student. the girl who never gave anyone a reason to worry.

your parents raised you with expectations as solid as the fence that surrounded your house. good grades, early curfews, polite smiles at dinners. you were the kind of girl who double-checked her answers before turning in a test, who texted home before she was even late, who never spoke back even when she wanted to.

it wasn’t that you minded. not really.

your life was safe—comfortable.

weekends were spent with the same close friends, at the same coffee shop on the corner, drinking the same latte every time and reviewing notes for exams that were still weeks away. after school, you went straight home, sometimes stopping by the bookstore if you had extra time, flipping through pages of novels where the main characters lived lives far more reckless than your own.

and you liked it that way. you liked knowing where you belonged, knowing exactly what came next.

because trouble was for other people. rule-breakers, risk-takers. the kind of people who never thought twice about consequences. people who didn’t care.

the kind of people like him. lee donghyuck—or as he preferred to be called, haechan.

lee donghyuck had always been a name whispered in the hallways, wrapped in either amusement or warning. he was the boy who skipped class but somehow still seemed to do well, the boy who wore silver rings on his fingers, black eyeliner and bruises on his knuckles, the boy who flirted with everyone but never let anyone close.

he was reckless in a way that made people watch him like a fire they couldn’t look away from.

and you? you were the girl who had spent her whole life avoiding flames.

—

science had always been your best subject.

there was something reassuring about it—formulas that always worked, reactions that could be predicted, rules that never changed. if you followed the steps, you got the right answer. it was logical. reliable.

but not everyone saw it that way.

from the back of the classroom, haechan let out a quiet sigh, loud enough that a few students glanced his way. he was slouched over his desk, barely pretending to take notes, the end of his pen tapping lazily against his open textbook.

“can anyone explain why increasing the concentration of reactants speeds up a chemical reaction?” the teacher asked.

your hand went up without hesitation.

“because a higher concentration means more particles in the same space,” you answered. “so there’s a greater chance of collisions between them.”

“correct,” your teacher said, nodding approvingly.

from the corner of your eye, you caught movement. haechan had lifted his head just enough to glance in your direction, his gaze slow and assessing. when you turned to meet it, he didn’t look away, but just studied you, the corner of his lips twitching like he was in on some joke you weren’t part of.

your teacher moved on, scribbling equations across the board, but haechan didn’t so much as pretend to care. he stretched, tipping his chair back onto two legs, hands folded lazily over his stomach, like he was just waiting for the bell to save him from all of this.

you turned back toward the front, exhaling through your nose. it annoyed you, yet you didn’t know why.

it didn’t matter, it had nothing to do with you.

he didn’t matter.

or at least, that’s what you had always thought until today.

—

you were halfway through packing your books when you heard your name.

“could you stay back for a moment,” your teacher said, just as the last bell rang.

you paused, glancing up as students shuffled past your desk, their conversations blending into white noise. you couldn’t think of a single reason you’d need to stay—your grades were perfect, your assignments were always on time, and you definitely didn’t cause any trouble.

but then the teacher said another name.

“donghyuck, you too.” you heard him correct the teacher of his name under his breath.

your fingers curled around the thick textbook you were shoving in your bag.

he was slouched at his desk, twirling a silver ring around his finger, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. it took him a second to react, but when he did, it was with an exaggerated sigh, dragging himself upright like even this was too much effort.

the classroom emptied around you until it was just the three of you, the weight of the silence settling in as the teacher folded her arms over her desk.

“haechan,” she started, “you’re failing. if you don’t pass your next exam, you’re going to have to repeat this class. and you know what that means.”

he leaned back on the closest desk to the teacher’s, completely unfazed, crossing his arms. “that i get the pleasure of spending another semester with you?”

your teacher didn’t so much as blink. “it means you will not graduate with your class. you need this credit.”

that got a reaction. his arms uncrossed as haechan’s smirk slipped, just slightly.

“which is why,” she continued, turning to you, “you’re going to tutor him.”

your mouth parted slightly. “wait—”

“you’re the top of this class,” she cut in, before you could protest. “if anyone can help him pass, it’s you.”

you swallowed. the request made sense—on paper. but logic didn’t stop the heat of his gaze as it flickered toward you, as he finally seemed to take you in.

slowly, he let his eyes drag up and down, taking his time.

your unwrinkled clothes. your neatly done hair. the way you clutched your bag like it was a lifeline.

his lips curled at the edges, something amused, something almost lazy, and yet, you felt it. the weight of being looked at like that.

“seriously?” he drawled, tilting his head, eyes still on you. “her?”

your spine straightened. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he smiled like he’d already won. “nothing, sweetheart.”

your teacher exhaled sharply, already tired of him. “this isn’t optional. you’ll meet and study together, and if i hear that you’ve skipped even once, i will not hesitate to let you keep your failing grade. understood?”

haechan sighed, tipping his head back like this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. then, with the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips, he muttered, “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

you could already tell. this was going to be impossible.

—

you walk out of the classroom first, stepping a little harder than intended. this wasn’t how you planned to spend your semester. tutoring some guy who didn’t even try, who slouched in his seat like he was too good for all of it, who looked at you like you were something to be amused by.

the hallway was mostly empty now, students already heading home or to their next activities. you were almost free, when a voice called out behind you.

“so, tutor, when do we start?”

you didn’t stop walking. “the library. after school tomorrow.”

haechan caught up easily, his pace unhurried, like this was all some joke to him. “ugh, the library?” he groaned. “how predictable.”

you glanced at him, unimpressed. “where else are we supposed to study? a convenience store?”

“actually, yeah.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shooting you a smirk. “sounds more fun. we could get snacks. maybe a drink. aren’t tutors supposed to motivate their students?”

you exhaled sharply. he’s messing with you. you knew it, and yet, somehow, he still got under your skin.

“you don’t need motivation,” you said flatly. “you just need to study.”

“eh, debatable,” he mused. “i think what i need is a tutor who’s a little more flexible. less ‘strict teacher,’ more ‘cute classmate who wants to help me succeed.’”

you stopped walking.

haechan took a few more steps before realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. he turned, an eyebrow raised, just as you crossed your arms.

“okay, let’s get something straight,” you said, voice firm. “this isn’t a favor. i don’t want to tutor you, but i have to. and i don’t care if you think it’s boring or predictable, because it’s either this or you fail. so if you actually want my help, show up tomorrow. on time. otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

for a second, he just looked at you, head tilted like he was reevaluating something.

then, instead of answering, he let his gaze drag over you, slowly, like he was seeing you for the first time.

you stiffened under the weight of it, but refused to look away.

after a beat, he grinned.

“damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “you’ve got a little fire under all that perfection, huh?”

you huffed, turning on your heel. “just be there.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you ignored him.

but as you walked away, you could still feel his smirk and stare burning into your back.

—

you barely stepped through the front door before your mom called out from the kitchen.

“you’re home later than usual.”

you set your bag down by the entryway, slipping off your shoes. “the teacher kept me after class.”

that was enough to get both of your parents’ attention. your dad looked up from where he sat on the couch, while your mom leaned against the counter, a slight crease forming between her brows.

“for what?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

you exhaled, already bracing yourself. “she assigned me to tutor someone. he’s failing, and she thinks I can help him pass.”

your dad hummed approvingly. “well, that’s nice of you. who is it?”

you hesitated for half a second.

“haechan.”

the shift in the room was immediate. your mom stilled, and your dad turned completely this time, exchanging a glance with her before turning back to you.

“him?” your mom repeated, her voice careful.

“yes, him.” you folded your arms. “why does it sound like you already know who he is?”

your dad sighed, setting the paper aside. “people talk, sweetheart. he’s got a reputation.”

you rolled your eyes. “so what? he slacks off in class?”

your mom pursed her lips. “it’s more than that. skipping school, getting into trouble, hanging around the wrong crowds…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “just—be careful around him, honey.”

there it was. the warning.

and, of course, the assumption that you couldn’t think for yourself.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. “i’m not hanging out with him. i’m tutoring him. in the library. with textbooks.” you glanced between them. “pretty sure that’s not a crime.”

your mom didn’t look convinced, and your dad only leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

“just don’t let him pull you into anything,” he said. “kids like that don’t change.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a flicker of irritation curling in your chest.

they made it sound like you were helpless. like the second you spent time with him, you’d suddenly throw your whole life away. everything you’ve built for yourself.

you shook your head. “it’s not that serious.”

and before either of them could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and headed for your room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

they were overreacting.

they didn’t know him.

and neither did you.

—

session one - monday february 23rd

the school day dragged.

it wasn’t any different from usual; classes, notes, the occasional group discussion, but today, there was a lingering awareness hanging over you. a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down to the inevitable.

you weren’t looking forward to tutoring haechan. but you had a job to do, and if he didn’t show, well… that was his problem, not yours.

by the time the final bell rang, you had already secured a table in the library, setting out your textbook, notebook, and a few highlighters. everything was neatly arranged. you had a plan, a structured breakdown of the material he needed to catch up on.

and yet, fifteen minutes passed.

then twenty.

you checked your phone, tapping your pen against your notes.

was he seriously going to ditch on the first day?

finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and then a familiar voice, drawling, “damn. you’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

you glanced up to see haechan standing there, hands in his pockets, looking completely unfazed. like he hadn’t just wasted almost half an hour of your time.

you exhaled sharply. “you’re late.”

“fashionably,” he corrected, dropping into the chair across from you.

you leveled him with a stare. “i don’t think that applies to studying.”

he shrugged. “guess we’ll find out.”

already, your patience was wearing thin. you pushed the textbook toward him, flipping to the section you had marked. “let’s start with reaction rates. you need to understand how—”

he wasn’t listening.

instead of looking at the notes, he was looking at you, head tilted slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you always sit this straight?” he mused, tapping his pen against the table.

you blinked, looking up from the textbook. “what?”

“just saying. you’re sitting like you’re taking an exam or something.” he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “relax. tutoring’s not life or death.”

you ignored the heat creeping up your neck and flipped open your notebook instead. “can we focus?”

he hummed, like he was considering it. then, before you could continue, he leaned forward slightly, eyeing your arrangement of highlighters and pens.

“bet you highlight in, like, five different colors.”

you clenched your jaw. four, actually, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right.

when you didn’t respond, he grinned, undeterred. “does tutoring me ruin your whole ‘perfect student’ reputation?”

you inhaled slowly, gripping your pen a little tighter. “only if you fail,” you said flatly.

he let out a soft laugh, finally glancing at the textbook. “alright, alright. hit me with the science.”

you exhaled, pushing past your irritation. this was going to be a long session.

but one way or another, you were getting through to him.

—

the next hour closed and you left the library still irritated—but more at yourself than him.

why had your heartbeat picked up when he had leaned in? why had his teasing stuck in your head longer than necessary?

get a grip.

the school hallways were mostly empty by now, just a few stragglers grabbing things from their lockers or heading to practice. you stopped by your own locker, swapping out your books for what you needed, then headed outside.

the late afternoon air was crisp, the sky shifting into a soft orange glow. you walked home, already thinking about how you’d explain the session to your parents.

(you wouldn’t. you’d just tell them it happened and leave it at that.)

continuing your walk, barely making it past the school you hear a voice from behind you.

“yo, tutor.”

your head snapped up.

haechan. again.

he was leaning against a lamppost a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, the same knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“we should celebrate.”

you frowned. “celebrate what?”

“me actually getting an answer right, obviously.” he straightened, stretching his arms behind his head. “c’mon, don’t be boring. you never just—i don’t know—do something on a whim?”

you had remembered the question he got right—which was simply the question you had answered yesterday in class. you narrowed your eyes. “if this is your way of trying to get out of studying next time—”

“relax.” he chuckled. “just messing with you. see you at our very serious study session next time, tutor.”

and with that, he strolled off like he hadn’t just left you standing there, your thoughts an even bigger mess than before.

—

session two - wednesday the 25th

you told yourself you wouldn’t get annoyed this time. you even mentally prepared for his usual antics before heading to the library.

it didn’t work.

haechan was late again. this time only by ten minutes, but still. he strolled in with an iced coffee in one hand, a lazy grin on his face like he hadn’t kept you waiting.

“you get extra credit for showing up on time, you know.”

“damn, should’ve known,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from you. “maybe next time.”

you sighed, pushing the textbook toward him. “no distractions today.”

“that’s asking a lot.”

“it’s not.”

to your surprise, he actually made an effort. at least at first. he followed along as you explained reaction mechanisms, even nodded a few times like he understood. but the second things got even slightly complicated, he leaned back and groaned.

“why do i even need this? it’s not like i’m gonna be a scientist.”

“you need it to pass.”

“passing is overrated.”

“says the guy who’s literally failing.”

he just grinned, spinning his ring around his finger. “touché, sunshine.”

the nickname caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in a way that was foreign to you. whether he noticed your shift or not, he continued to use the name anytime he talked to you.

progress was slow, but you managed to get through two topics before he started messing around again, twirling his pen, asking dumb hypothetical questions that had nothing to do with chemistry.

“if i fail, do you fail too? since you’re my tutor?”

“no.”

“damn. no stakes for you then, huh?”

“just the overwhelming frustration of having to deal with you.”

“you wound me.” he clutched his chest dramatically, then smirked. “you sure you’re not starting to like our little sessions, though?”

you rolled your eyes. “go home, haechan.”

he laughed as he stood up, giving you a lazy salute before walking off.

session three - friday the 27th

miraculously, haechan was on time. but that didn’t mean he behaved.

“don’t look so shocked, tutor.” he plopped into his usual seat. “i can be responsible when i wanna be.”

“so, you just choose not to be?”

“exactly.”

today, he actually put in a little more effort, asking questions instead of just guessing his way through answers. you started to think, maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

and then, halfway through, he got bored.

“okay, pop quiz,” he said, snapping his book shut. “if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?”

you blinked. “we are not doing this.”

“come on, humor me.”

“fine,” you muttered, flipping through your notes. “something small. simple. maybe a quote.”

“predictable,” he teased. “what if i said i’d get your name tattooed?”

you shot him a deadpan look. “then i’d question all of your life choices.”

he laughed, drumming his fingers against the table. “nah, i’d get something cool. a dragon or something. or maybe—” he wiggled his brows. “a chemical equation, just for you.”

“how generous.”

“i try.”

somehow, even with the distractions, he managed to retain at least some of what you covered. as you packed up, he tapped his pen against the table.

“hey, sunshine.”

you glanced up, not missing his smirk at your responding to the name.

“don’t miss me too much over the weekend.”

“leave.”

he laughed all the way out the door.

session four - monday march 2nd

you were already exhausted from the start of the new week, and haechan wasn’t helping.

“mondays shouldn’t exist,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair.

while you agreed, you had to keep him focused. “you still have to study.”

“brutal.”

you launched straight into the material, ignoring his dramatic sighs and complaints about how unfair school was. surprisingly, he focused for a solid thirty minutes—until he caught you tapping your foot.

“you’re impatient today,” he observed, tilting his head.

“or maybe i just want you to actually learn something.”

“i am learning. look,” he pointed at an equation. “i even remember this one.”

you checked. he was right.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “you have a functioning brain after all.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

despite yourself, you bit back a smile.

the session ended with him actually completing the assigned questions, granted, after a lot of coaxing. as you packed up, he tapped the table again, just like last time.

“see you wednesday, sunshine.”

this time, you didn’t tell him to leave.

you did however, roll your eyes as he walked away, still grinning.

—

session five – wednesday the 4th

it was one of those days.

haechan was late—again. not by much, but enough to make you grit your teeth when he finally strolled in, a bag of chips in one hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be.

“don’t look at me like that, sunshine.” he smirked as he slid into his seat. “traffic was brutal.”

“you walk here.”

“damn. caught me.”

you inhaled sharply through your nose, pushing the worksheet toward him. “just start.”

he did. kind of.

five minutes in, he was tapping his pen against the table. ten minutes in, he was spinning his rings. fifteen minutes in, he was leaning back in his chair with a yawn.

“haechan,” you warned.

“hmm?”

“can you at least pretend to care?”

he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “depends. does it bother you?”

you shook your head. “whatever.”

“relax, sunshine.” he tilted his head. “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

you ignored the way heat crept up your neck. “just answer the question.”

he glanced at it. “mm… ‘catalyst slows down a reaction.’”

you shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. “no. it speeds up a reaction—”

“eh, close enough.”

“no, it’s not—” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. “are you even trying?”

“nah.”

that was it.

“then why the hell are we even doing this?”

he blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard. but you were already pushing back your chair, stuffing your notes into your bag with sharp, deliberate movements.

“if you fail, that’s your problem. not mine.”

you didn’t wait for a response. just walked out, leaving him sitting there—still smirking, but something in his expression had shifted.

session seven – monday the 9th

the session was supposed to be like any other. you’d prepared the material, you had everything set up, and you were expecting the usual. you didn’t expect haechan to show up on time—or at least not to show up with an actual sense of purpose.

he slung his bag over the chair and slumped down. his usual cocky grin wasn’t there.

“what’s wrong with you?” you asked, surprised at how… serious he seemed.

he didn’t answer right away, instead just staring at the notes in front of him with furrowed brows.

“this is dumb,” he muttered under his breath.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s dumb? the concept? the subject? or… you?”

he flicked his eyes to you, but there was no usual smirk, just irritation. “all of it.”

you frowned. “this isn’t the usual ‘i don’t care’ routine. what’s going on?”

he didn’t meet your eyes, instead flicking through the textbook like he was hoping to find a way out of this.

“i just don’t get it,” he said, voice tight.

you sat back, eyeing him carefully. you were so used to him breezing through everything, acting like he didn’t care, so this sudden frustration was… different. it threw you off.

“you’ve got this. we’ve gone over it before.”

“yeah, well, it’s not clicking today,” he shot back, rubbing his temples like he was battling a headache.

you leaned forward, speaking more gently than usual. “haechan, this stuff isn’t hard. you just have to stop shutting down every time it gets tough.”

he looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but frustrated. he clearly didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“i don’t shut down,” he muttered. “it’s just… everything else is easier. this? it feels like i’m failing at something i can’t even explain.”

you blinked, taken aback. haechan never let anything get to him, at least not this much.

“okay,” you said, shifting your tone to something a little more reassuring. “we can take it slow. i’ll help you through it.”

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t just about the chemistry. there was something deeper in his frustration—something he wasn’t saying.

he sat back in his chair, massaging his temples. “maybe i just don’t get it because i’m not supposed to. i’m not like you, sunshine.”

“no, you’re not,” you said softly. “but i know you can get it. you have to try.”

there was a long silence between you, and for the first time in a while, you realized that your usual teasing, quick comebacks wouldn’t fix this.

haechan’s eyes met yours for a fleeting second, something raw in them. then, he sighed.

“this is stupid,” he muttered, but there was a softness to his voice. “i’ll try.”

and for once, you believed him.

—

days later, sunday dinner was quiet, just the soft clinking of utensils against plates and the low hum of the tv in the background. your parents had been giving you a look all evening. the kind that meant they had something to say but were waiting for the right moment.

you didn’t have to wait long.

“so,” your mom started, too casually. “how’s tutoring going?”

you didn’t even glance up from your plate. “fine.”

“fine?” your dad echoed. “that’s it?”

you shrugged, poking at your food. “what else is there to say?”

your mom set down her fork. “is he at least putting in effort?”

you huffed. “define effort.”

they exchanged a glance, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, like they already knew exactly what was going on.

“we just want to make sure he’s not wasting your time,” your dad said. “if he’s not serious about learning, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“he’s… getting better,” you admitted, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. he was trying, in his own way, but it was a slow process.

your mom still looked unconvinced. “just be careful, sweetheart.”

you frowned. “careful?”

“boys like him…” she hesitated, choosing her words. “they can be a distraction.”

“he’s not a distraction,” you said immediately, but the way she raised an eyebrow made your stomach twist.

and then— “you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you nearly choked. “what? no. why would you even—?”

“because it happens,” your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look. “you spend enough time with someone, and next thing you know, you start making excuses for them.”

“i’m not making excuses.” you leaned back in your chair, suddenly desperate to get out of this conversation. “and i definitely don’t have a crush on him. it’s just tutoring. that’s it.”

they didn’t argue, but the look in their eyes said enough.

—

session ten – monday the 16th

you weren’t sure why your parents’ question was still echoing in your head. it was ridiculous, really. you didn’t have a crush on him. just because he was annoying, and cocky, and had that stupid smirk that made your stomach flip sometimes—no. not sometimes. never. it didn’t matter.

but still, as you walked into the library, setting your bag down at the usual table, you felt weirdly… off. distracted.

you pulled out your notes, trying to shake the thought, but haechan just had to say something.

“damn, sunshine. you look tense. bad day?”

you jumped slightly at his voice. he was standing next to you now, one hand gripping the chair as he spun it lazily before sitting down. he was late, as usual, but this time you hadn’t even noticed.

“fine,” you said quickly, focusing on your notes.

“you sure?” he tilted his head, leaning forward on the table. “you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you did. but there was no way in hell you were going to tell him what.

“it’s nothing,” you said, too quickly. “let’s just get started.”

but as the session went on, you found yourself more distracted than usual. every time he leaned in, every time he ran a hand through his hair, every time he smirked at something that wasn’t even funny, you thought of your parents’ voices in your head.

“you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

no. you weren’t. you refused to.

but then he tapped his pen against the table, glancing at you through his lashes. “you’re really off today, sunshine. what’s up?”

and maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the fact that you hated how observant he could be, but you snapped.

“you. you’re up. why do you talk so much?”

he blinked, clearly not expecting that. then, he grinned. “because you like it.”

“i don’t.”

“liar.”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. this session was going to be impossible.

—

session twelve - friday the 20th

you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show up.

maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t texted all day—not that he ever really did, but usually, there was something. some offhand comment about how he was so tired or how he was mentally preparing for another “brutal” study session. but today? nothing.

still, you sat at the usual table, notes spread out, waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

until finally, you checked the time and realized it had been forty-five minutes.

you scoffed, shoving your notes back into your bag with more force than necessary. of course he wouldn’t show up. of course, he’d waste your time like this.

this was exactly why you didn’t like him.

not that you had to remind yourself. but things like this. his impulsiveness, his lack of reliability, the way he did whatever he wanted without considering anyone else, made it so much easier to not like him.

except, if that were really true, you wouldn’t be this pissed off.

you stormed out of the library, typing out a single text before shoving your phone deep into your pocket.

“seriously?”

no greeting. no unnecessary words. just that.

and when he didn’t respond, you told yourself you didn’t care.

even though, somehow, he was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

—

the weekend was quite eventful.

saturday -

you weren’t mad.

at least, that’s what you told yourself as you pulled out your laptop that morning, trying to focus on the essay you’d been putting off. it had nothing to do with him. nothing to do with the fact that he’d completely wasted your time yesterday. it wasn’t like you cared.

but when your phone lit up beside you, your heart jumped a little too fast. you grabbed it instinctively. only to see a notification from your bank about your spending this month.

you exhaled sharply, tossing your phone aside. see? you weren’t waiting for a text. because you weren’t expecting one. because you didn’t care.

still, you had to physically stop yourself from checking your messages every hour, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in a terrible mood.

saturday night -

“so let me get this straight,” your friend, karina said, stirring her drink lazily. “he didn’t show up. didn’t text. and…now you’re mad about it.”

you scowled, leaning back in your chair. “i’m not mad.”

she raised an eyebrow. “you sure? cause you seem pretty mad.”

you crossed your arms. “i just don’t like when people waste my time. it’s inconsiderate.”

“right.” karina smirked, tilting her head. “but it’s weird, isn’t it? because you weren’t even this mad when you thought he wasn’t taking tutoring seriously. but now? now he misses one session, and suddenly, it’s a big deal?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “that’s not the point.”

“mhm.” she sipped her drink, clearly unconvinced.

you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but as you stared down at your untouched food, a thought crept into your mind.

was she right?

sunday afternoon -

you spotted him before he saw you.

standing by the counter at the campus café, looking as unbothered as ever. hoodie slightly loose around his shoulders, rings glinting under the dim lighting as he scrolled through his phone.

he wasn’t avoiding you, then. because avoiding would at least mean he knew he did something wrong.

the irritation that had been simmering all weekend bubbled over. before you could think twice, you were already walking toward him.

“oh, hey, sunshine.” he glanced up as you stopped beside him, smiling like nothing had happened. “you look cute when you’re brooding.”

you didn’t waste time. “you didn’t show up.”

he shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “yeah. something came up.”

“something came up?” your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn’t care. “you could’ve at least said something.”

he leaned against the counter, studying you with an amused tilt of his head. “why? you miss me?”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. because he was doing this on purpose. pushing, testing, waiting to see how much you’d react. and you hated that it was working.

“you’re unbelievable.” the words came out in a breath, laced with frustration.

and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could say anything else you’d regret.

but the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he was still in your head, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

—

session thirteen - monday the 23rd

for the next two weeks, you and haechan had to change locations as club was having their meetings in the library. you moved to a classroom near the library.

monday’s session wasn’t a disaster. in fact, it was almost… normal.

he showed up—five minutes late, but that was practically on time for him. he didn’t ignore the notes you laid out, didn’t spend the whole time spinning his rings or making dumb comments. he even answered a few questions correctly, which honestly shocked you.

“so you do pay attention sometimes,” you muttered when he got one right.

“wow, sunshine.” he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “say that again. maybe i’ll start believing you actually like having me around.”

you scoffed, underlining something in your notebook just to avoid looking at him. “don’t push it.”

he chuckled but didn’t push. and for the first time since this whole tutoring arrangement started, things actually felt… okay. he was still distracting, still teasing you every chance he got, still doing that infuriating thing where he leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. but at least he was trying.

and that was enough.

for now.

later that week, things changed.

session fifteen- friday the 25th

you were still in one of the school’s empty classrooms, finishing up some notes for yourself. it was already late when you heard the classroom door creak open.

too late for a tutoring session. too late for him to be here at all.

you looked up, expecting a janitor, maybe a teacher. instead, you saw him.

“oh my god.” your breath caught when you finally glanced up. “what happened to you?”

he looked…rough. a split lip, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone, dried blood crusted near his eyebrow. his knuckles were bruising and stained with a little blood, like he’d been swinging at something—or someone.

“nothin’.” his voice was quieter than usual, the usual cockiness dulled by exhaustion. “just a bad night.”

“bad night? you look like you got your ass kicked.” you frowned, already standing. “who—why—”

“doesn’t matter.” he waved a hand, like he wanted to brush it off, but even that small movement made him wince.

you sighed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “stay here.”

he didn’t argue as you left, and when you came back a few minutes later, first aid kit in hand, he still hadn’t moved. just sat there, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, like he was waiting for the fight to start back up again.

but when you stood in front of him, tilting his face up slightly so you could dab at the cut on his lip, he stilled.

“you don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“you don’t have to get into fights.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

when you knelt beside him and took his hand in yours, he barely reacted, letting you clean the dried blood from his knuckles. his skin was warm under your touch, but you ignored that. just like you ignored the way his eyes were fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

for a while, there was only silence. the soft press of gauze against his skin, the quiet scrape of your nails as you brushed away the dried blood. and through it all, he just watched you.

like he didn’t understand why you cared.

“you’re not supposed to fix me, sunshine,” he said eventually, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “just tutor me.”

you didn’t look at his eyes. “maybe i just don’t want to watch you fall apart.”

his breath hitched slightly. and maybe you imagined it, but for the first time, the fight in his eyes flickered. just for a second.

he didn’t say anything else. but something shifted in that moment.

because later, when he went home, he touched the bandage you had carefully pressed onto his skin, fingers lingering there longer than necessary.

and even though he would never admit it. maybe not even to himself, that was the moment he started falling for you.

—

after that night, things feel different. you tell yourself they’re not, that nothing’s changed, that you’re just imagining the way your chest tightens when you catch him looking at you in the middle of a study session. but it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words, in the silence that lasts too long, in the way his teasing remarks don’t land the same way anymore.

the next session, he actually tries.

not in an obvious way—he’s still late, still sighs dramatically when you hand him a practice problem, still taps his pen against the table like he’s counting down the minutes until he can leave. but when you ask him a question, he answers. when he gets something wrong, he listens when you explain instead of brushing it off.

session sixteen - monday the 28th

“so, what, you’re suddenly serious about passing?” you ask, watching as he leans forward, elbows braced against the table.

he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe i just like seeing you all impressed when i get something right.”

you roll your eyes. “trust me, you’d have to try way harder for that to happen.”

but you don’t mean it. because when he mutters the right answer under his breath, brow furrowed like he’s actually thinking, something twists in your stomach. you shove the feeling down before it can take root.

—

then, he starts showing up.

not just to your tutoring sessions—those are still scheduled, still predictable, still something you can control—but to other places. places he shouldn’t be.

like when you’re sitting outside between classes, notebook open in your lap, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the pavement.

“wow,” his voice cuts through the quiet, lazy and amused. “you really do study all the time, huh?”

you glance up, frowning as he drops into the seat across from you. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugs, peeling the label off his drink. “nowhere else to be.”

he stays. doesn’t do much—just picks at his rings, tosses casual comments your way, complains about the weather. at first, it’s just once. then it happens again. and again.

“you know you don’t have to sit here, right?” you say one day, not looking up from your laptop.

“i know.”

he doesn’t leave. and you don’t tell him to. maybe that’s your first mistake.

—

the evening air is crisp, biting at your skin as you step out of the library. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, putting your earbuds in as you start down the quiet path leading off campus. most of the streetlights flicker on as it got darker.

you don’t hear him at first.

not until he falls into step beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

“hey, sunshine.”

you nearly trip, ripping an earbud out as you whip your head to the side. “what the—why are you here?”

he doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. “walking.” he motions in front of him.

“walking where?” you press, your suspicion growing.

he exhales, tilting his head toward the sky as if debating whether to answer. finally, he shrugs. “just making sure you get home okay.”

you slow your steps. something about the way he says it, like it’s just a fact, like it’s obvious, throws you off balance.

“i don’t need a bodyguard,” you mutter.

“yeah, i know.”

“so why—”

“just shut up and keep walking.”

the words should annoy you. they do annoy you. but something in his casual but firm tone, like he’s already decided he’s doing this whether you like it or not, leaves no room for argument. so you walk, stealing glances at him every so often, watching the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers flex like he’s holding back something he’ll never say out loud.

“this isn’t a habit now, is it?” you ask after a few minutes.

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you roll your eyes but don’t push.

when you finally reach your place, you stop at the fence, hesitating. you should say goodnight. you should say thanks, maybe. but before you can decide, he’s already a few steps away, hands still buried in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead.

“see you later, sunshine.”

he doesn’t look back. doesn’t wait for a response.

but for some reason, you watch him walk away anyway.

—

you should be asleep.

but you’re not.

instead, you’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the walk home in your head like a movie you can’t turn off. like the flickering streetlights, the cold air, the steady sound of footsteps beside you—his footsteps—are all burned into your mind.

you shift onto your side, pulling your blanket up to your chin. it’s stupid. he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything that should be lingering like this. all he did was show up. all he did was walk.

but still.

“just making sure you get home okay.”

he’d said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a thing.

but it was. wasn’t it?

you sigh, rolling onto your back again. your phone sits on your nightstand, screen dark, no notifications. not that you expected any. he’s not the kind of guy to text. but still, some stupid part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.

not about you. just—about anything.

maybe he’s already asleep, completely unbothered, already moved on. maybe it meant nothing to him.

but then again—

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you close your eyes, exhaling slowly.

you don’t know what’s worse. the fact that he might actually do it again.

or the fact that you kind of want him to.

—

session nineteen - monday april 4th

you check the time again.

ten minutes late.

with an annoyed sigh, you tap your pen against the open notebook in front of you, debating whether to give up and leave. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. showing up whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s doing you a favor by even bothering. but this time, it’s grating more than usual. maybe because things have been different lately—less antagonistic, more… whatever this weird tension is that neither of you have acknowledged.

and then, just as you’re about to slap your notebook shut, a chair scrapes against the floor.

“took you long enough,” you mutter without looking up.

“miss me?”

the smirk is there—you can hear it in his voice even before you meet his gaze. he leans back in his chair, stretching out like he has all the time in the world. no apology, no excuse. just him, always testing your patience.

you roll your eyes and push his notebook toward him. “just open your book.”

the session starts off okay, at first. he’s actually trying—not a lot, but enough. he answers a few questions, gets some right, listens when you explain the ones he gets wrong. but there’s something off about him today.

he’s restless. more than usual.

his fingers tap against the table, his rings clicking against each other in a way that makes your nerves buzz. he sighs every time you correct him, leans back so far in his chair that you’re convinced he’s seconds away from tipping over. but most of all, he’s not looking at you.

not in the usual way, at least. he usually stares—lazy, smug, like he’s waiting for you to snap. but today, it’s like he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. like he’s somewhere else.

“what is wrong with you today?” the words slip out before you can stop them.

haechan raises an eyebrow, finally meeting your eyes. “me? nothing. maybe you’re just extra grumpy today.”

you glare. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you were actually focused.”

he clicks his tongue, shutting his notebook with a dull thud. “yeah? and what if i don’t feel like it?”

your patience snaps. “then why are you even here, haechan?”

silence.

his expression shifts—just barely, but enough for you to see it. the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looks away.

and then he speaks so quiet, almost to himself.

“good question.”

your breath catches. because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking about tutoring anymore.

neither of you speak after that.

the rest of the session is stiff, words clipped and movements sharp. when it ends, he doesn’t throw a smug remark over his shoulder, doesn’t tease you like he usually does. he just stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks out without looking back.

you stay sitting there long after he’s gone, staring at the empty chair next to you.

heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to think about.

—

session twenty - wednesday the 6th

wednesday’s session is quieter than usual. it’s like there’s a wall between the two of you—still the same awkwardness, but with more… space.

haechan is more focused than before, but there’s a distance in the way he engages with the material. no smart comments, no teasing, just a steady silence as he works through the problems. every time your fingers brush over his paper to point out a mistake, there’s a brief, electric pause. neither of you comment on it, but it lingers, like a promise neither of you are ready to make.

but by the end of it, he’s gone without a word. not a smile, not a look. just the door shutting quietly behind him.

—

session twenty one - friday the 8th

friday’s session is different.

when he walks in, there’s a heaviness about him, something off—his face is bruised again, his lip split like last time, hair slightly tousled, and there’s a subtle tremble in his step like he’s not sure whether to be here or not. his eyes avoid yours as he slides into the chair across from yours, too close to be casual but too distant to be comfortable.

the silence between you is charged from the start, but it’s not the playful tension you’re used to. it’s thick, raw, almost uncomfortable.

you can’t help but stare at the bruise blooming across his jaw, the scrape on his chin, and the other cuts scattered across his arms. the anger and adrenaline radiate off him in waves, but there’s something deeper underneath all of it—a tiredness.

you try not to let your voice crack, but the concern breaks through anyway. “what happened?”

haechan doesn’t meet your gaze. his eyes are dark, like he’s trying to bury something under all that nonchalance. “it’s nothing.”

you don’t believe him. obviously. not looking like that. “haechan, don’t lie.”

finally, he looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes you freeze—raw vulnerability laced with a bitterness you can’t quite place. “someone said something about you,” he says quietly. “something i didn’t like.”

you feel the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hiding the unease creeping into your tone.

he’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table as he thinks about how to phrase it. then, he just blurts it out: “i fought over you.”

it takes you a second to process. “what?”

he looks at you, this time, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for something. “they were talking about you. bad stuff. i couldn’t just sit there. i—” his words falter, like he’s not sure why he’s even explaining this to you.

you don’t know what to say. your heart beats harder, faster. “so you just…?”

“i lost it.” he’s not ashamed, not exactly, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel like he’s letting go of more than just the fight. “i couldn’t stand it. i had to do something.”

and that’s when it hits you—the depth of everything he’s been hiding behind those sharp smirks and sarcastic comments.

without thinking, your fingers move—just a soft brush against his darkening knuckles, like it’s the only thing you can do to make sense of all this. you feel the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips, and the contact burns, even though it’s so small.

haechan’s breath catches. there’s a moment of complete silence, and then he slowly, so slowly, moves his fingers that were under yours.

you hold your breath, fingers trembling just a little. and then, as if testing the waters, he slides his fingers up to rest his hand against yours. you found your hand opening up, as your palms touched slightly. his finger tips grazing your with a ghost-like touch. for a second, neither of you moves. there’s a fragile, delicate tension that seems to freeze the room in place.

and then, without saying a word, he lets his fingers gently curl around yours.

it’s slow, tentative, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but when you don’t, when you let him, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip tightens just enough, not too much—just enough to say this matters.

your heart races, and your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

you let your fingers slip into the spaces between his, moving carefully, slowly.

there’s no hurry. just the quiet sound of your breaths mingling with the subtle click of his rings as his fingers settle between yours.

his eyes drop to your hands, studying the way you fit together, the way your fingers slide against his, perfectly and effortlessly. it’s intimate in a way that makes everything around you disappear. there’s only the soft warmth of his hand in yours, the quiet thrum of something unspoken growing louder between you.

he leans forward slightly, his voice quiet, almost like a confession. “i fought because of you,” he says, the weight of his words settling between you two like a secret you didn’t expect.

you want to say something, want to ask why, but the words don’t come. your chest feels tight. why would he do that for you?

his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the motion slow and careful, and you feel the heat of his touch seep through you. “i couldn’t just let them say shit about you,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

you finally meet his gaze, your chest tight with something you can’t name. he holds your hand gently, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch, something protective that you can’t quite ignore.

the air between you is thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. he doesn’t let go of your hand, doesn’t move away, and neither do you.

you’re not sure how long you sit there, fingers entwined, the world outside of this moment fading away. but somehow, it feels like everything has changed between you two in that quiet, intimate touch. Something that didn’t need to be spoken but felt.

neither of you moves, not yet. not until it’s time.

—

saturday -

saturday morning arrives with the lingering weight of haechan’s words from the previous session. “maybe we could grab a coffee or something. no tutoring… just…”

his voice still echoes in your mind as you get ready. you don’t know why it’s making you nervous. you’ve spent hours with him tutoring, in tight spaces, talking about everything under the sun, but this feels different. it’s not about grades or chemistry anymore. it’s about you and him—just two people.

when your parents asked where you were off to, you brushed them off with a simple. “studying at the café,”.

at 2 p.m., you arrive at the cafe a little early. your heart beats louder in your chest as you stand outside, looking at the door, unsure whether you should go in first or wait. but before you can make up your mind, haechan appears. he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. his messy hair adds to the vibe—relaxed, but there’s an intensity in the way he walks towards you.

“hey,” he greets with that familiar teasing smile, but it’s less playful today, more reserved. he watches you for a beat, like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling.

“hey,” you respond, your voice steady but your insides twist with something unfamiliar.

the conversation starts easy, like a continuation of your tutoring sessions, but it quickly morphs into something more personal. you laugh at his jokes, and he cracks a few of his usual sarcastic comments. but this time, they don’t feel so cutting—they feel like an invitation, an effort to connect.

you tell him about your favorite subjects, and he talks about his struggle with science (which he completely tries to play off like he doesn’t care about). somehow, you both end up talking about your childhoods, your families, and some awkward high school moments. the more you talk, the more the layers fall away, and you realize this is more real than you expected. he really wasn’t some monster that everyone seemed to paint him as.

as you finish your drinks, there’s an uneasy silence between you two. haechan runs a hand through his hair, and you shift in your seat, unsure of what to do next. the energy between you both is charged now—unspoken words hang thick in the air, and it’s almost unbearable.

“well, sunshine,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “i guess I’ll see you on monday?”

you nod, too quickly, almost relieved to escape the pressure of the moment. “yeah, monday.”

you both stand, and as you turn to walk away, you feel his eyes on you. you can’t tell if it’s admiration or something else, but the way he watches you feels different now.

sunday -

sunday passes quietly, but the space between you and haechan feels wider, even though you just saw him the day before. you try not to think about the little moments—the way he looked at you, how close you both were, how much you wanted him to say more. but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you both left so much unsaid, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

he doesn’t text you at all. the silence is deafening. you tell yourself it’s probably a good thing; after all, you don’t need to overanalyze everything, right? but then again, why does it feel so heavy?

you end up spending the day at home, alone with your thoughts. the weekend was supposed to be simple, a break from the usual, but now you can’t shake the feeling that it’s more complicated than that. haechan has always been complicated, but now you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to jump or step back.

session twenty two - monday the 11th

by the time monday rolls around, you’re feeling restless. there’s a shift in your mood. a nervous energy that you can’t shake off, and when you step into school, it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. you can’t decide if it’s anticipation or dread, but either way, you’re drawn back to the tutoring session.

when haechan finally walks into the classroom, you can’t tell if he’s acting like everything is normal or if he’s pretending. he gives you a short wave, but it’s not his usual playful smile. it’s different now. there’s something more cautious in his movements.

you both settle into your usual rhythm—he’s late, of course, but he’s quieter today. you’re not sure if that’s because of the weekend or if it’s something else entirely.

the session goes well, mostly. it’s like before, in the sense that you both get through the work, but there’s an added tension. he looks at you a little longer than he usually does, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s trying to understand something. the usual teasing is absent today, replaced by a different energy—more subtle, more cautious.

by the end of the session, you can’t help but feel like you’re caught in this strange, unspoken limbo between what you both were and what you might be. you still don’t know where it’s going, but you’re both standing at the edge, unsure whether to jump or wait to see what the next step will be.

—

session twenty three - wednesday the 13th

it’s the final session before the break, and everything feels different. the air feels thicker, charged with something neither of you are saying but both know is there. you both sit at the desk, the tension palpable, but neither of you are focused on the notes in front of you. it’s like the classroom walls are closing in, and neither of you can breathe easily.

you keep glancing over at him, trying to stick to the lesson, but he’s just… there, too close, too present. the words he’s saying are just noise in the background as his eyes flicker over you every time you speak, his gaze heavy, simmering. you know it’s not just the subject anymore. something has shifted.

“you’re not listening,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend.

he looks at you, not surprised, but not unaffected either. “neither are you,” he replies, and there’s something in his voice that’s too calm. too knowing.

you press your lips together, trying to keep your composure. “well, you’re not even trying.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair slightly. “again, neither are you.”

there’s a challenge in his voice, and it sets something off inside you. something snaps. you stand up more abrupt than you anticipate, trying to collect your thoughts but only feeling more overwhelmed by the space between you two. you feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of the tension, like there’s something about to break, and you don’t know if you want to stop it or let it happen.

you cross your arms, pacing around the small desk, trying to cool the heat you feel flooding your chest.

“why are you so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“because you make it easy,” he says, voice low, leaning forward, his eyes locked on you in a way that makes your knees weak.

he stands up slowly, the movement purposeful, and your heart skips a beat. the space between you is closing, and before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s there, standing right in front of you.

his hand brushes against yours, and you feel it like a spark, his fingers just grazing yours before he holds your wrist lightly, tugging you closer to him. you can’t move, rooted in place by something deeper than just attraction.

and then he kisses you.

it’s a kiss that’s full of everything you’ve been holding back. the anger, the frustration, the need for something more that you don’t know how to name. it’s messy, urgent, like both of you are desperate to see how far you can go without letting go. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing against him as you kiss him back, just as hungry, just as eager.

you feel his grip on your wrist tighten, pulling you closer as his other hand slides to your waist. the kiss deepens, and the world around you disappears. it’s just you and him, the heat of his lips against yours, the press of his body against yours.

you can’t help but give in, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, your breath coming faster as the intensity builds.

and then, just as suddenly, it breaks.

you pull back, hands trembling, and you stare at him, your heart pounding against your ribs.

you feel guilty.

you glance away, trying to catch your breath, but all you can hear are the voices from the past—the warnings your parents gave you, the things they said about boys like him.

“boys like him are trouble.”

the words echo in your mind like a warning. trouble.

you can’t ignore it. your heart sinks, and a cold wave of uncertainty washes over you. this is trouble.

you step back, trying to create some distance, trying to make sense of it all. “this isn’t… supposed to happen.”

he stays silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. then, quietly, he says, “i don’t want to stop.”

you shake your head, backing away, but you can’t seem to find the words. everything’s spinning in your head. he’s trouble, but you want him.

“haechan,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat rise to your cheeks, “i—this was a mistake.”

he doesn’t say anything, just watches you as you grab your things, your heart heavy in your chest.

you don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to untangle the mess you’ve just made of your feelings. you only know that walking away is the only thing you can do right now, even if every step you take feels like it’s pulling you away from him and yet dragging you closer at the same time.

you leave without another word, but as you walk down the hall, your mind is still stuck on him.

this isn’t what i signed up for… but then again, maybe it was.

—

the following night is unusually still, and you lie awake, mind tangled in the events of the past week. your thoughts keep drifting back to him—the kiss, the way he pulled away, and the uncertainty that followed. you toss and turn, trying to shake off the feeling, but it’s like something’s pulling you in. just as you start to think you’re finally starting to calm down, a soft knock at your window breaks through the silence.

your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. there’s no mistaking who it is. haechan.

you rush to the window, heart racing, but you pause for a brief moment to glance at your door—your parents are just down the hall. still, curiosity outweighs caution, and you push the blinds up quietly, barely believing your eyes.

there he is, his silhouette framed against the dim streetlights outside, standing on the roof near your window with that familiar, confident smirk that sends a strange rush through you.

“how’d you get up here?” you whisper after opening the window, your voice shaky, heart still pounding in your ears.

he shrugs as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, but you can’t ignore the way his arm strains as he grips the window sill, his veins flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. your eyes flicker down to his arms, and for a moment, you forget to breathe, your gaze catching on the way the muscles ripple as he pulls himself up with a small thud.

you wince, then immediately shush him, raising a finger to your lips in an exaggerated, playful gesture. “my parents are gonna hear you!”

he flashes that trademark grin, but it’s softer this time—almost sheepish, like he wasn’t expecting this much resistance. “sorry,” he whispers, giving you a quick, apologetic wink before pulling himself through the window with a bit more flair than necessary. you can feel the heat radiating off him as he steps inside, and for a brief second, you both just stand there in the quiet of the room.

there’s an awkward pause as he dusts himself off, glancing around your room as if trying to find a reason for being here, but then his eyes land on you. his expression softens just a little, that familiar cockiness fading away for a second.

“didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but… figured i’d take a risk. can’t sleep, you know?”

you laugh softly, a little nervously, though you can’t quite explain why. there’s something about him being here, standing in your room in the dead of night, that’s thrilling in a way you’re not ready to admit. “did you…climb the tree?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“yeah,” he grins, his tone light, almost teasing. “it’s not that hard. plus, i thought i’d get your attention somehow.” he shrugs as if this is a totally reasonable thing to do. but when his eyes meet yours, there’s something behind them. something vulnerable, something unspoken.

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, but there’s no malice behind it. instead, your voice is soft, fond. you step back instinctively as he moves toward you, not sure if you want to step away or let him close the gap. you should be more concerned that he was here. if your parents found out, you have no idea what kind of reaction they’d have.

he looks at you for a moment, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s studying every detail. you can feel the tension building between the two of you, and even though you know you should step back again, you stay rooted to the spot. there’s a pull between you that neither of you can ignore.

“i just… couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about you,” he admits, the words coming out quieter than usual. he doesn’t sound like the usual confident haechan; there’s a vulnerability in his voice now, something raw that you’ve never heard before.

you blink, caught off guard. the air feels thick with unspoken words, and for a second, you’re at a loss for how to respond. your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you move a little closer to him.

his eyes widen slightly when you step forward, but he doesn’t move away. instead, he reaches for your hand slowly, almost hesitantly. his fingers brush over yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. it’s so quiet, so soft, but it feels like the whole world has paused. you glance down at his hand—his fingers are rough, the veins on his arms standing out against his skin.

you look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, almost intimate motion. there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of everything that’s been building between you.

“you’re here,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, but it feels like it carries the weight of everything you haven’t been able to say.

he gives a small, lopsided grin, his thumb still moving over your hand. “yeah. i guess i am.”

and then, without another word, he leans in, and this time, when your lips meet, it’s not chaotic. it’s slow, deliberate, like the two of you are finally giving in to something you’ve been avoiding. his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but it deepens as the moments stretch on, his other hand moving to gently to him by your back, pulling you closer. everything else fades away. the hesitation, the uncertainty and you lose yourself in it.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing a little heavier, the space between you still charged with the emotions neither of you knew how to express. you glance at the door again, your mind briefly flashing to the consequences of this. but for a moment, you don’t care.

“this is… insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly.

he leans his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i know. but i don’t think i can stay away.”

for a moment, you both just stand there, breathless, sharing the same quiet understanding. you’ve crossed a line you never thought you would, and for the first time, you’re not sure what comes next. but you know this: you can’t go back. not now.

—

after that night, everything changes. things between you and haechan aren’t just charged—they’re different. there’s no more pretending that what happened didn’t mean something.

friday the 15th

the next day at school, he’s there—leaning against his locker like usual, surrounded by his close group of friends, but his eyes are on you the second you walk in. it’s not just a glance this time. it’s intentional, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll look at him, if you’ll acknowledge what happened between you the night before.

your heart races, but you force yourself to act normal. your parents had been none the wiser about his late-night visit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still thinking about it. thinking about him. you take a deep breath and head toward your first class, but just as you pass him, his fingers catch your wrist. it’s subtle, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“you’re not gonna ignore me now, are you?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something real underneath it.

“not here,” you murmur, pulling your hand away, your face heating up as you disappear into the crowd.

you glance around—people are watching. of course they are. it was unusual for a student like and a student like him to interact. let alone lee haechan and you.

but you can feel his gaze on you for the rest of the day.

after school -

he catches up to you before you can leave, cutting you off near the entrance. “so, sunshine, are we gonna talk about last night? or are you just gonna pretend i didn’t climb a damn tree for you?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you could’ve fallen.”

“but i didn’t,” he grins, stepping closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “what, you worried about me?”

you are, but you won’t admit that. you sigh. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”

his smirk fades just slightly, a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. “say it wasn’t nothing.”

you hesitate, because you can’t say that. you won’t lie. but you also don’t know what this is.

before you can respond, a voice calls your name from behind. one of your classmates. someone who shouldn’t be seeing you with him like this.

“i have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away.

he doesn’t stop you, but as you walk away, you hear him call out, just loud enough for you to hear—

“i’ll see you later, sunshine.”

and you know you will.

saturday night -

you get a text from him.

haechan: come outside

your heart leaps into your throat. you glance at your bedroom door, listening carefully. your parents are still awake. sneaking out has never been something you’ve even considered before, but now…

your fingers hover over your phone.

you: are you insane?

haechan: probably. but i wanna see you.

you hesitate. but only for a second.

and then, for the first time, you take the risk.

—

the door clicks softly behind you as you step onto the porch, the night air brushing cool against your skin. you shiver slightly, but you ignore it, your pulse already picking up when you spot haechan waiting just beyond the porch light’s glow, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

he steps forward as you approach, but then—he stops.

his eyes flicker down, lingering.

you suddenly realize what you’re wearing—silk shorts, the kind with delicate lace at the hem, barely brushing mid-thigh. paired with a thin, loose sweater, it’s nothing that scandalous, but under his gaze, you feel the heat creeping up your neck.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he exhales, tilting his head. “damn, sunshine. if i knew sneaking into your thoughts at night got me this kind of welcome, i would’ve done it sooner.”

you cross your arms, giving him an unimpressed look despite the warmth spreading in your chest. “i wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

he hums, taking another step closer. “yeah? so you just wear this to bed every night?” his voice dips lower, teasing, but there’s something else there.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach tightens. “are you done staring?”

his smirk deepens. “not even close.”

“why are you even here?” you sigh, trying to steer the conversation before you combust under his gaze.

his expression shifts slightly, something more serious flickering beneath the teasing. “couldn’t sleep.” he shrugs, eyes still on you but softer now. “kept thinking about you.”

your breath hitches. you weren’t expecting that.

you hesitate, shifting on your feet. “and what exactly were you thinking about?”

he doesn’t hesitate. “that kiss. both of them.”

you inhale sharply, your heart picking up speed.

he watches you carefully, stepping just close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “tell me i’m the only one who’s been losing sleep over it,” he murmurs. “tell me you don’t think about it too.”

you should brush it off. should laugh, roll your eyes, push him away like you always do.

but you don’t.

“…maybe a little.”

his lips quirk, but it’s not his usual cocky smirk—it’s softer. more real.

“thought so.”

before you can even react, his fingers find yours, brushing over your knuckles before lacing them together. it’s slow, deliberate—like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away.

you don’t.

he exhales a quiet laugh. “you’re in trouble, sunshine.”

you swallow. “why?”

his thumb traces over the back of your hand, and when he looks at you, there’s something almost fond in his eyes.

“’cause now that i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, “i don’t think i can let go.”

—

you should go back inside. your parents are asleep just down the hall, and this is the kind of thing they warned you about. sneaking out into the night with a boy like him, hand in hand, heart racing in ways it shouldn’t.

but you don’t let go.

“come on,” he says, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you might change your mind. “let’s go somewhere.”

“what? where?” you ask, but you’re already following him down the steps, his hand warm against yours.

he smirks, eyes glinting in the dim light. “trust me.”

and for some reason, you do.

—

the night air is crisp, cool against your skin as the two of you walk through the quiet streets. neither of you say much at first, just the soft scuff of your footsteps on the pavement, the occasional flickering of a streetlight overhead. it’s reckless, it’s stupid, but for some reason, it feels right.

he leads you toward a small park a few blocks away, one you haven’t been to in years. it looks different at night—emptier, quieter, like a hidden world that only the two of you know about.

“seriously?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you dragged me out of bed for a playground?”

haechan grins, tugging you toward the swings. “come on, sunshine. live a little.”

you huff, but you sit anyway, the chains creaking slightly as you lean back. he takes the swing next to yours, feet planted on the ground, arms draped lazily over the chains.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the city hums softly in the distance, a car passing now and then, but here, in this little forgotten space, it feels like you’re in your own world.

then he breaks the silence.

“so,” he says, voice quieter now. “are you gonna tell me why you kissed me back?”

your fingers tighten around the swing’s chains.

you should lie. should brush it off, make a joke, something.

but instead, you glance at him, finding him already watching you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.

“…i don’t know,” you admit.

he exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “wrong answer, sunshine.”

you frown. “oh? and what’s the right one?”

he leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even in the cool night air. his voice drops, teasing but serious all at once.

“that you can’t get me out of your head, either.”

your breath catches.

you could argue. you could deny it. but instead, you just look at him, your heart pounding, and realize—maybe you don’t want to.

—

the morning after sneaking out with haechan, everything feels different.

your room is the same, the sun filtering through your curtains, casting warm streaks of light across your sheets. your parents are in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast drifting down the hall like any other saturday morning. nothing has changed.

except it has.

because your mind won’t stop replaying the night before. his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of the streetlights, with that same dark eyeliner you’ve grown to like. the way he leaned in just close enough that you thought he might kiss you again but never did. the way your heart had pounded the entire walk back home, fingers still tingling from where he had held them, warm and steady.

and the worst part?

you didn’t want it to end.

you go through the day pretending everything is normal.

you do your chores, respond to messages, attempt to start your homework—but it all feels distant, like your mind is somewhere else entirely. every time your phone lights up, you half expect it to be him. but it never is.

and then, just when you think you might be going crazy, your mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“you’ve been distracted all morning.”

you blink, looking up from your untouched notebook at the kitchen table. your parents are sitting across from you, your dad flipping through the newspaper, your mom watching you with knowing eyes.

“i’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.

she hums, not convinced. “it’s not about that boy, is it?”

your heart stops. “what?”

your dad turns a page in the newspaper, not looking up. “the one you’ve been tutoring,” he says simply. “you know, the one we told you to be careful around.”

your pulse stutters. “it’s—no, of course not.”

your mom raises an eyebrow. “really? because ever since those sessions started, you’ve been acting a little… different.”

“and now you’re all spaced out,” your dad adds, still not looking up. “not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you scoff, forcing out a laugh that sounds almost believable. “as if.”

your mom exhales, satisfied for now. “good. boys like that, they’re nothing but trouble.”

your chest tightens. they don’t know anything. “so you’ve told me.” you sigh.

but instead of arguing, you just nod, mumbling something about needing to study before quickly escaping back to your room.

and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, your phone finally buzzes.

haechan: you up, sunshine?

you hesitate for half a second, holding back the small tug at your lips before responding.

you: yeah, why?

his reply comes instantly.

haechan: meet me? same spot.

your heart skips. you don’t even hesitate.

you: be there in 10.

—

the air feels heavier, like the wind is carrying something unspoken between you. you spot him before he sees you—leaning against the swing set, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand twisting a silver ring around his finger. he looks lost in thought, gaze fixed on the ground until he hears your footsteps.

his head lifts, and when he sees you, his lips twitch into a smirk—lazy, like he knew you’d come.

“thought maybe you wouldn’t show,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

you cross your arms, standing a few steps away. “why?”

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “figured maybe you started listening to your parents.”

you raise a brow. “you’re eavesdropping now?”

nah,” he says easily, stepping closer. “just know how people see me.”

you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, letting the silence settle between you.

“so,” you say after a beat, “why’d you call me out here?”

he exhales, tilting his head as he watches you. “needed to see you.”

the words come so easily, like he didn’t even have to think about them. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression even. “and now that you have?”

he grins, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “now?” his voice drops lower, eyes flickering over your face. “now i wanna know why you came.”

you swallow. why did you?

you should have ignored his message, should have listened to every warning sign telling you to stay away.

but standing here, heart pounding, heat rolling off him in waves—

you realize you don’t regret a damn thing.

“i wanted to see you too.” you say lowly.

—

after that night, something shifts.

it starts slow—an unspoken understanding, a magnetic pull that neither of you acknowledge but never fight.

one night turns into another. and then another.

sometimes, he climbs through your window just to talk, arms crossed against your windowsill, voice hushed as he tells you about his day. other times, he doesn’t talk at all, just pulls you close and kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

and maybe you should be afraid too—afraid of how easy it is to let this happen, to want more. but you’re not.

—

you find yourself around him more at school, too.

it’s not obvious, not at first—just stolen glances across the hallway, his shoulder brushing yours when he passes by, the flicker of a smirk when he catches you looking.

but then he starts waiting for you after class, hands stuffed in his pockets, always acting like he just happened to be there. like it wasn’t intentional.

and you let him.

because somehow, being near him feels natural now. even with the tutoring sessions over. he seemed to be doing pretty well in science now anyway.

—

the nights are different. the nights are yours.

sneaking out is reckless, dangerous, a risk you wouldn’t have taken before. but now? now it’s routine.

sometimes, you meet at the park, swinging lazily under the glow of the streetlights. sometimes, he drags you into the city, leading you through neon-lit streets, hands brushing in the dark.

and sometimes—most nights, actually—he’s at your window.

it always starts the same way: a faint rustling, the quiet scrape of sneakers against bark, and then, moments later, his head poking through the window frame with a grin.

“you’ve got to stop leaving this unlocked, sunshine,” he teases, even though you both know you won’t.

and every time, without fail, you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him when he pulls himself inside, muscles flexing, veins prominent under his skin as he steadies himself.

the first few times, you told yourself this was temporary—just a phase, just him being him.

but then there’s a night where he doesn’t just talk, doesn’t just steal a few kisses before leaving.

there’s a night where he lingers.

where his hands settle on your waist, where he backs you up against your wall, where the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

where he kisses you deeper, hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, like he’s memorizing you.

where you let him.

because at some point, you stopped trying to fight this. stopped trying to pretend you didn’t want it.

because at some point, you stopped caring that he was the kind of boy your parents warned you about.

—

it was one of the nights he had skipped into your room, you greeted him with a smile and things went from there.

his breath is warm against your lips, hands gripping your waist as he backs you into the wall.

he’s been teasing all night—touching you just enough to leave you wanting more, murmuring things in that low, rough voice that made your pulse stutter. but now? now there’s no space left between you, and neither of you are trying to fight it.

his fingers press into your sides, slow and steady, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take. his lips brush yours once, twice—just enough to make you chase him before he finally kisses you like he means it.

and you let yourself fall into it.

your hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to draw a quiet groan from his throat. his body presses closer, chest rising and falling against yours, the heat between you dizzying.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, almost strained.

you don’t even get the chance to answer before he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s losing whatever little patience he had left.

his hands slip under your shirt, fingertips skimming your skin, sending shivers up your spine. and you should stop this, should put some distance between you before it’s too late—

but then his hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the way his heart is racing just as fast as yours, and god—

you don’t want to stop.

“tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw, down to the hollow of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back as he presses closer, as his hands continue their slow exploration.

“tell me you don’t want this,” he says again, but there’s no teasing in his voice this time—just something raw, something vulnerable, something almost pleading.

and you should. you should.

instead, your grip tightens in his hair, and you whisper back, “i don’t want you to.”

his response is immediate—his hands slide lower, pulling you flush against him, and he groans against your lips like he’s just lost whatever last shred of control he had.

“fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. “you’re really gonna be the end of me, sunshine.”

but he doesn’t stop.

and neither do you.

—

when you finally pull your mouth from his, his lips are swollen, breath uneven as he leans into you, hands still firm on your waist like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you don’t want him to.

but somewhere between the heat of his touch and the way his body presses against yours, reality creeps back in.

your parents are just down the hall.

he shouldn’t even be here.

“we should stop,” you murmur, though the words barely make it out, still breathless from the way he just kissed you.

he exhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he tilts his head back to look at you. his pupils are blown wide, jaw tight like he’s forcing himself to pull back.

“yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “yeah, we should.”

but neither of you move.

his thumb brushes against your side, like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

“sunshine,” he says softly, like a warning.

you know you have to let him go.

but when he leans in one last time, mouth hovering just over yours, you don’t stop him.

“just one more?” he murmurs, but it’s a lie.

one more turns into two, then three, then a lingering kiss pressed to the corner of your lips, like he’s reluctant to leave you at all.

but eventually, he does.

he steps back first, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to ground himself, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he does something you’ll both regret.

“guess i should go before i completely fuck this up, huh?” he says, forcing a smirk, but you see the hesitation in his eyes.

you nod, but you don’t trust yourself to say anything.

he moves toward the window, but just before climbing out, he looks back, gaze flickering over you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers are still trembling just slightly.

and then, instead of saying goodbye, he just grins.

“try not to miss me too much,” he teases, but there’s something softer beneath the words. something real.

and with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

except—he was.

you press your fingers against your lips, as if you can still feel him there, and then, you smile.

it’s embarrassing, the way your stomach flutters, the way your cheeks heat up, the way you actually giggle like some lovesick schoolgirl.

you should not be this giddy over a boy like him.

but you are.

and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore.

—

it was another saturday night, around 12am, your parents long gone to bed.

his hands are warm against your skin, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer.

you’re not even thinking anymore—just moving, just feeling. stumbling over your own feet as he walks you back, laughing quietly when you almost trip over a pile of books.

“shh,” you whisper, barely suppressing a giggle.

he grins against your lips. “that was you.”

“doesn’t matter,” you breathe, fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath the fabric. “just be quiet.”

he hums in amusement, hands sliding up your sides, his touch slow, deliberate, testing. “you always tell me what to do, sunshine?”

“someone has to.”

“mm,” he leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric up just slightly—waiting for permission.

you exhale, whispering a word of approval.

he doesn’t hesitate. he tugs your shirt up, just enough to expose more of your skin—

knock.

the door swings open.

“what are you doing—?”

you freeze.

haechan freezes.

your mom stands in the doorway, eyes locking onto the scene in front of her—haechan’s hands still on you, his hoodie discarded on the floor, your shirt lifted just enough to make it painfully obvious what was happening.

for a second, no one moves.

no one breathes.

haechan is the first to react, stepping back so fast he almost knocks over your chair. he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to play it cool, like there’s any coming back from this.

you don’t dare turn around.

your heart pounds in your chest, face burning hotter than ever before. this time not with the same heat.

your mom inhales sharply, voice eerily calm.

“downstairs. now.”

the finality in her tone sends a chill down your spine.

haechan glances at you, expression unreadable, but you can’t look at him.

because this time, you’re really in trouble.

—

▸ j.note ; finally releasing this lmao it’s been in the sm basement for quite some time now

[kkochigomi]

the ultimate guide to f***ing nomin

teaser

PAIRING: reader x jeno + jaemin

GENRE: producer!mc, smut, humor

ESTIMATED WC: 30k

TEASER WC: 1.8k

SYNOPSIS: DJ Juliette is over just being a DJ. She misses being a producer and working with artists but no one is biting anymore. She's living from paycheck to paycheck, so when MC receives a pink business card from that company, she should take it. But her fellow SHAWOLs are screaming at her and she knows better. So they send in the heavy arsenal wrapped in head-to-toe Chanel. This woman, named Lindsay Liu, knows she can talk her into it.

WARNINGS: threesomes, slight language barriers, hella campy/maybe even bad, mc is described as American and having a midsized body, explicit language and descriptions of sex, working at SM Entertainment, mc has a "stage name", Juliette isn't her actual name.

+ dialogue and text messages italicized in their entirety means MC is translating them from Korean!

NingNing are you not seeing the gc? Lindsay just sent something CRAZY

You choose to ignore Yizhuo’s text for one simple reason. It’s five a.m., which is much too early to translate. You’re already grouchy from being up this early, you’d rather just hurry and get ready for your first scheduled session. 

And throughout all three hours of said session, your phone is buzzing into oblivion. You have to wonder if a cartoony vein is popping out of your forehead when one of the members stops singing in the booth. You look up to see not only him, but everyone else in the studio staring at you. 

“Juliette, if you need to excuse yourself for a moment to answer your phone, please do so.” Says the group’s manager, looking unimpressed with your attitude. Embarrassed, you immediately stand up, bowing at everyone in the room and softly apologizing in Korean. 

You rush out in the hall, half of you just eager to be relieved of the tension you caused and the other half is eager to mute that group chat. You search for the app, forgetting what it’s called since you rarely use it.

An unfamiliar logo is grouped with the other messaging apps. SCR… right, you think, and what does that mean again?

You’re tempted to delete it since it’s collecting dust, but deep down you know exactly why you won’t. There’s a rabid fangirl constantly reminding you that your favorite idols only trust this app to send… private messages. Not always something inappropriate, just anything they can’t risk being exposed. You sigh and open the app to at least do what you originally set out to.

The group chat, cheesily named ‘Gossip Girls’, has over 999+ unread messages. You’re not sure just how much that plus is hinting at since you rarely open it, but you remember there being significantly less the last time you glanced at the home page. And that wasn’t that long ago. That’s when you see the previews of the messages flying by. 

their shoulders are so broad, it gets me… this is so strange Lindsay, do you know their type? I wa… kinda horny now lololol I bet they only like really skinny girls… So what’s their size? Don’t leave us… i’d pay just to see it lol god they would KILL on onlyfans

… What in the world is going on? You open the group chat at the speed of light. Frustratingly you’re positioned where you left off two months ago. You have to scroll through dating rumors and confirmed relationships, leaked songs, or whatever other hot gossip one of the girls’ heard. This app was created by celebrities for celebrities (and a select few normies). If you take a screenshot while the app is open, the picture is blurred just like snapchat and the other chatters are notified. There’s also an eyesore of a pattern in the background that supposedly distorts most phone cameras, so you can’t take a physical picture either.

Plus, it’s not really in anyone using this app’s best interest to blow its cover. Almost everybody has dirt on them from that very app. Everyone chooses to keep the peace for another reason as well, intel. You finally you find it. Lindsay even translated it, and you have a strange feeling that’s targeted at you. 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Hello dolls, As some of you may know, I am moving back to Shanghai for the time being :*(. I know, I’m so sad! I’ll miss seeing your gorgeous, gorgeous faces in real life. Anyway, I’ve decided to leave you guys with a parting gift. Me being the only person to experience this feels like a waste. One of you has got to have sex with Nomin.

You gasp, hugging your phone against your chest. The door creaks open and you feel your soul threatening to leave your body. 

“Are you okay?” The manager peeks his head out, looking just as annoyed as he always is.

“I-I’m sorry, there’s an... emergency!” You give him a panicked smile after you find the word. Your face is sizzling hot as you lock your phone. His face gradually softens. 

“You don’t look too good, we can end early today–”

“Okay, thanks!” You rush toward a bathroom, any bathroom. Only when you’re locked in a stall do you feel yourself calm down. Your face is still hot to the touch as you unlock your phone. You have to admit, Lindsay really caught you off guard. God… if someone had glanced over your shoulder, you would’ve had your ass handed to you. Despite what their artists sing about and how they dance, SM is a very sexless place. Any innuendos or allusions to sex are strictly prohibited. A part of you felt like them explaining those rules was only targeted at you because you were American (not that you would blame them). But after being here for two months, you’ve gotten very used to the sterile environment. 

Opening up that message in the middle of work felt like watching hardcore porn at your work computer. Is she joking? If she is, it is a little funny. You make a note to message her that before you continue. 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Don’t worry, I won’t be jealous or anything. If you know me, then you know I refuse to be attached to any man lol. But you should know that they don’t just fuck anybody. From what they’ve told me, they don’t look at most girls. They’re very particular about the girls they seek out. If you ask me, that’s exactly why they barely have threesomes heheh ;3.

The first of many thoughts to surface is that Lindsay is clearly not joking. The next is a glaring question.

Who is Nomin?

You know better than to assume the k-pop industry debuted a nonbinary idol, so you’re not surprised when your google search returns two men. You’re also not surprised that you don’t recognize them since you don’t know any groups who debuted after 2014. They’re handsome, though. Very much so. They’re both charming in their own way, and you can see why they’re paired up. The vibes are reminiscent of the classic cat/dog dynamic you’ve seen. You tap your index finger against your lips as you sift through the images. They have nice physiques...

They’re okay I guess, I’ll always be a Taemin girl, though. You spin your ring mindlessly, unable to tear your eyes away from Jeno’s bare torso.

Right, the message.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Here, I’ve compiled for you the steps to attempt to get Nomin’s attention. Just to get it out of the way because it's obvious, you have to be up for a threesome. Even I couldn’t get one of them alone. Also, no idols. Upsetting one fandom is already horrifying, upsetting two is just reckless. Anyway, - Tip One: Don’t try so hard. If you look as good as they do, you get suitors constantly. And having to constantly deal with loud and unsubtle people is annoying. Besides, no one likes desperation. - Tip Two: If you’re going to change up your style and approach, don’t lay it on thick in either direction. Don’t become a BDSM dungeon master with your breasts practically falling out of your shirt. I bet you would look great, but you’d be ignoring tip one. But don’t put on that weird demure act either. If you’re covered head to toe and pretend to be sex averse, how are they supposed to know you want to fuck them? - (extra hint: dress casually, but give them something to… you know. A shirt just tight enough or a skirt just short enough they think their dirty thoughts were their own fault. Just off the top of my head, something like a graphic tee that’s slightly cropped with high waisted jeans that cover your midriff. Make sure the shirt hugs you just right 😉)

You laugh to yourself. Graphic tee she says. She could’ve just said t-shirt, but she’s making it very obvious. Perhaps on purpose? You pinch your jacket closed as if someone can see you right now. You’re wearing the same shirt you had on when you met her, now that you think about it. 

Tip Three: A quick Do & Don’t for you: DON’T pretend to be their biggest fan. Name a single idol who has dated a fan. Exactly. DO become the best fan fiction character you can be. And I mean best. Don’t go to their concert and read a book, that’s ignoring tip one again. Don’t say you hate their music or hate boy groups. Subtler. Say you love boy groups. Hell, say you love SM boy groups… but you’re not very familiar with new ones. Throw an older group out there like I don’t know… SHINee. I think that’s why they reached out to me, being a 2PM fan and all. I wouldn’t have even looked their way on my own and I think that excited them.

That tip is the final straw for you. That one message was correct, this is strange. If she wanted to recommend you… have sex with those two, why wouldn’t she just message you? And are they even aware of all this? It all rubs you the wrong way and you start to text her exactly that. Lindsay beats you to it, though.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Have you read the group chat at all?

Yes. What the hell.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ What did you think of the tips ;)

Lindsay. Don’t you think this is a little inappropriate?

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Hey, I said they don’t like the innocent act.

I’m not participating in this! It feels icky. Am I crazy?

You exit out of her chat to message Yizhou the same thing. You can’t be going crazy. This is weird. You fan yourself and exhale.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ A little!! :D 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ They’re already texting me that they’re going to be so lonely and horny when I leave… they may even have to play with each other to cope…

My GOD Lindsay.

You swipe the messenger away entirely, only noticing then how hard your heart is beating. You close your eyes and your mind immediately betrays you by painting the images you saw of Jeno and Jaemin together behind your eyelids. You ease onto the toilet, hands pressing against the stall one either side of you. The images refuse to cease and you let your thighs squeeze just a little. 

Your phone buzzes and you send a ball of saliva back to roll down your parched throat before opening the app again. 

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Last time I checked on you, you told me you haven’t been getting any play recently. They’re going to be in the same boat soon.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭ Remember what I told you? Idols have to be picky about who they sleep with and how often they do it. I know you’re thinking about quitting because this job isn’t what you saw yourself doing, but you aren’t utilizing the perks, doll </3 !

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧

◉ proofread cycle 1 ⃝ proofread cycle 2

[nightpoemz]

★☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･' ૮ .◜◡◝ა '･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆★

bsf!jeno when camgirl!you ask him for help

pt. 2 of bsf!dreamies when camgirl!you ask them for help (lowkey requested, but i kinda wanted to try writing smth)

wc: ~2.1k

smut, consensual filming, dom-ish!jeno, groping, hair pulling, hickey, scratching, missionary and doggy, idk just fucking in general

an: uhh so i blacked out and wrote this… it took me 3h _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): so let's all be nice about any mistakes that i made. minors dni. ★

★☆

knock, knock.

you glanced at your phone- 8pm sharp. jeno was 30 minutes early. "a little overexcited, aren't we," you mumbled to yourself. you pushed yourself off the couch and walked to the door. before jeno could knock again, it swung open.

"you're early," you smiled and gave him a quick hug.

"wasn't sure if i needed to prepare anything besides condoms, so i showed up early just in case." jeno took off his shoes and stepped into your apartment.

he looked around and chuckled at the mess. "don't laugh, i was going to clean in a bit…" "when? five minutes before i was supposed to arrive?"

he clocked you. of course he knew- he was your best friend, after all.

"don't worry, the streaming room is pretty well-organized and clean, if you ask me."

he raised an eyebrow. "your streaming room?"

you pointed at your former guest room. "turned it into a streaming room. needed more space and privacy."

"so no more guests unless you're fucking them?"

"i haven't had any guests that slept over in ages. and you're the only one i've asked to fuck so far."

"so far?"

you smacked his shoulder and shook your head. with one swift movement, he grabbed your hand and waist, pulling you closer.

"don't worry, i'll make sure you won't need to ask anyone else to be your 'guest'."

you were speechless. had he always been this bold? you knew how attractive jeno was, but this was a completely different side of him. the tension was unbearable- dizzying even.

"uhm- how about i go change and get ready real quick, so i can explain what i had in mind for today."

jeno let go of you with a smirk and gave a small nod.

"make yourself comfortable. i've got drinks and snacks on the counter." you quickly shuffled to your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

"get a grip. it's just jeno… 'just jeno'- who am i kidding?"

was it excitement or regret creeping over you? you shook your head and gave yourself a couple of smacks to calm down. rummaging through your closet, you grabbed your favorite lingerie set and a silk nightgown- just enough to tease without exposing everything.

after a quick shower, you stepped out of the bathroom to find jeno lounging on your couch, scrolling on his phone. when he looked up, his mouth parted slightly, his eyes unsure where to land.

"what? never seen a woman before?"

"never seen such a beautiful woman before."

his words were smooth like butter, and you couldn't help but blush. he stood up and walked toward you to get a better look. the closer he came, the hotter the room felt- or was it just you?

his hands instinctively landed on your waist.

"so, what did you have in mind?" his eyes never left your body.

you put a finger under his chin, raising his gaze from your cleavage to your face.

"since i wasn’t sure how this would go, i thought we could film offline today. if anything turns out awkward, i can just cut it and use the rest as a bonus for my subscribers."

"sure, whatever works for you. mind if i take a quick shower too?"

"no, go ahead. fresh towels are on the shelf. i'll set up the camera in the meantime."

jeno nodded and released your waist again, but his touch lingered.

—————

you set up the camera on a tripod, facing the bed, then grabbed a couple of towels and waited patiently.

not long after, the door opened. jeno stood in the doorway- wet hair dripping, towel loose around his hips.

you gulped.

you'd seen him shirtless before, but this was different. your mouth watered like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. the water trailed slowly over his defined muscles, the towel barely hanging on for dear life.

"thought it was kinda pointless to get dressed if i was just going to undress again," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

you snapped out of your daze and nodded.

"just lay down while i turn on the camera."

you were more flustered than you'd like to admit.

jeno got comfortable on the bed and tossed the towel aside. you hit record. turning back around, your whole body screamed to jump his bones.

"i wasn't lying when i said it wasn't teeny tiny," he chuckled.

it was long and girthy. not even fully erect, and you already knew you couldn't go back after this.

"don't worry. i can handle it," you winked.

climbing onto the bed, you settled on his lap. jeno sat up, placing both hands on your hips.

"how do you wanna start, pretty girl?"

"a little makeout session wouldn't hurt," you said, placing a hand on his cheek.

without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed you. his grip on your hips tightened, making you wince.

you started slow and tender, but it wasn't enough. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and gave his bottom lip a soft bite, running a hand through his hair.

a low moan escaped his lips as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. his hands explored more, moving down to your thighs, giving them a squeeze before sliding under your nightgown.

the cold touch made you shiver but only turned you on more. your hips shifted.

"fuck," you whispered, slipping off your gown.

this was the first time he'd seen you so exposed. your lingerie barely covered anything, and he could already feel you dripping onto his shaft.

"touch me more," you pleaded, grabbing his hand.

"no need to tell me twice."

his hands cupped your boobs, slowly massaging them. jeno's hands were big and manly, but his touch was gentle. his thumbs brushed over your barely clothed nipples, making your breath hitch.

you couldn't wait.

you unclasped your bra and tossed it aside.

"someone’s impatient," he whispered, lips brushing your skin.

"just enjoy it. i won't be gentle for long."

"is that a warning or a promise?"

"however you want to take it."

from the sound of his voice, it was definitely a promise.

he kissed your neck, drawing moans from your lips.

"i'll give you a little souvenir," he said, sucking until a bruise formed on your skin.

your moans were music to his ears. he couldn't get enough, he wanted to hear it more.

he wanted to hear you moan his name more.

jeno moved you off his lap. now you had a full view of his fully erect dick- your stomach dropped.

"lay down," he said, voice low. you followed.

he grabbed a condom and rolled it on with ease.

"ready?" he hovered above you.

"yes, please," you nodded, never feeling more ready.

he aligned himself with your entrance and slowly slid in. the stretch made you grimace.

"don't worry, i'll go slow," he reassured you with a soft kiss.

inch by inch, he filled you completely.

"are you okay, baby?"

the way he made you feel safe; it was the hottest thing alive.

"y-yeah… just give me a couple seconds to adjust. then you can start moving."

he waited patiently until your breathing was calm enough for him to move. and as he looked at you, his heart skipped a beat.

"gosh, you're so tight," he groaned as he began moving faster.

he hit every spot you couldn't reach yourself. toys had nothing on jeno's dick.

"nngh- faster, please," you gasped. this is exactly what he wanted to hear.

his bit his lips as he held back a moan. you grabbed his face. "no- jeno, i-i want to hear you. d-don't hold back."

he chuckled. of course you wanted that and who was he to deny you?

he pressed his forehead to yours, picked up the pace, and when he finally moaned something in you snapped.

"jeno-" you choked out, twitching beneath him as you came.

he didn't stop. you didn't want him to. you wanted more, you needed more.

"more… jeno… more…"

his thrusts turned rougher. your nails dragged down his back, making him groan.

"kiss me," you begged.

one look into your pleading eyes and he lost it.

he kissed you like he was trying to ruin you and it matched every single thrust.

you moaned into his mouth.

"i'm gonna-"

before you could finish, he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

"ass up," he ordered, giving you a firm spank.

once in position, he grabbed the camera off the tripod and slid back inside.

one hand held the camera above your ass; the other gripped your hip, making sure you took every inch.

the faster he moved, the louder you got. you tried to bury your face in a pillow, but jeno wasn't having it.

he tossed the camera back on the tripod, grabbed your hair, and yanked your face out of the pillow.

"don't muffle yourself. i want everyone to hear how i'm making you feel."

"je-" you couldn't even form full words at this point, without being interrupted by your moans.

he let go of your hair, gripping your hips with both hands, nails digging into your skin.

every thrust rougher than the last.

your eyes rolled back, almost seeing the pearly gates of heaven. your fists clenched the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

"this is what i wanna hear."

your moans were unstoppable now.

you'd lost count of how many times you came, while this man had endless stamina.

"ugh- i think i'm gonna cum," he groaned, throwing his head back.

his pace got sloppier. both your bodies tensed.

finally, he slowed down, riding out his orgasm.

he pulled out carefully and your body collapsed. jeno lay beside you, laughing softly.

"what's so funny?"

"i thought you said you'd be able to handle me." he leaned in, kissing your forehead.

you glared, flipping him off. if you weren't so exhausted, you'd have something smart to say.

your mind was hazy. your body throbbed.

meanwhile, jeno looked perfectly fine.

"alright, ready to stream now?"

"b-but… i just-" you mumbled.

he gently took your chin and made you face him.

"you'll be fine. they'll love seeing you like this."

☆★

masterlist

[viasdreams]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

xiaojun boyfriend texts !!

a/n: i dont mention the song in texts, but best friend by xj is one of my fav nct songs. so im using this opportunity to promote it 🤩 GO STREAM

[yuta-nakamots]

Regular - H.Hendery

Pairing - Hendery x Female Reader, Hendery x Female OC (Indrani), featuring Xiaojun

Genre(s) - Fluff, Angst, Smut, University!AU, friends to lovers, lovers to ???

Warning(s) - breakups, smut, cursing/swearing, depiction of depression, Hendery has rotten food in his refrigerator, toxic relationships, clubs, protected sex

Summary - Addiction can come in many forms, sweeping its victims up in a storm and leaving them weak beyond their imagination. Hendery’s addiction was not a common one that could simply be diagnosed, yet you set out to be his doctor, wanting to cure him before he went off the deep end.

Word Count: 9.3k

Author’s Note: my dear Indrani @ncteaxhoe, I am sorry for doing your character dirty but I hope you enjoy being the girlboss that wrecked Hendery

Taglist - @k-vanity @neocity-net (fill out this google form if you'd like to be added!)

Written for the Addictions Collab originally hosted by @127-mile. Part of my NCT: Seven Deadly Sins Collection.

Now Playing: Regular - WayV, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Breakin’ Dishes - Rihanna, toxic till the end - Rosé

The quiet ambiance of the campus library was your favorite environment to study in. Students and staff milling about combined with the sounds of nature coming from outside the rigid building helped to calm your mind from the chaos of classes and assignments. You often preferred to study alone, but you didn’t mind when Xiaojun joined you since he, too, enjoyed the peaceful mood of the library. 

It was yet another day of plugging through worksheets and essays with Xiaojun sitting across from you on the other side of the pale wooden table. You had fallen into a rhythm with the task you were currently working on but were rudely distracted from it when a third person joined your table. They plopped their backpack heavily on the table, causing it to shake, and loudly pushed the chair before promptly collapsing into it with a sigh. 

You glared over at Hendery, the source of your lost focus. He had already begun spacing out, so you knew he felt no remorse for disrupting your studies. You shared a look with Xiaojun, conveying the dismay from Hendery’s arrival and the tinge of familiarity from this situation. Xiaojun cleared his throat to grab Hendery’s attention, “some of us use the library as a place to get work done, you know.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Hendery apologized while straightening up in his seat. “Was I too loud?” 

At least he had the conscience to recognize these wrongdoings. “You weren’t too loud,” you spoke up, “but loud enough to bother me and Xiaojun.” 

“How long have you guys been here?” Hendery questioned. 

You turn on your phone to check the time. “Around an hour. What took you so long?” Normally, the three of you would meet in the library to study together since your classes ended at the same time, but it wasn’t unusual for someone to get held up with something or have other obligations. 

“I was hanging out with a girl from my interior design class,” Hendery shared. “I think I mentioned her to you guys before.” 

“Indrani?” you recall, remembering her name from the Instagram profile that Hendery showed you recently. 

He nodded. “That’s the one. But anyway, we went and got food from the campus center, and then I walked her to her last class of the day.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Xiaojun warned, already seeing where Hendery was projecting towards. 

“Ugh, fine. I have a crush on her, but so what?” Hendery had just broken up with his previous girlfriend barely even a week ago, and yet he was now making moves on another girl. This was no shock to you or Xiaojun, though, because Hendery had done this before. More than once. 

You shook your head. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon?” 

“For what?” He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was already pursuing a new relationship right after ending one. 

“This isn’t regular, you know. To break up with someone and then immediately go after someone else.” It wasn’t unheard of, but it definitely was not a common occurrence. Most people of your age know better than to be used as rebounds and know that it takes time to heal from relationships. 

But everyone heals differently, as Hendery had once brought up before. “And who are you to judge me?” Hendery argued. “I can do what I want in my relationships, and you can do what you want in yours. I just want to experience things while I’m still young.” 

Xiaojun chuckled to himself. “You say that as if you’re going to age drastically within the next few years. You’re not going to die when you turn twenty-five, dude. Relax a bit.”

“But then it’s time for my quarter-life crisis!” Hendery exclaimed. Your eyes met Xiaojun’s once more while Hendery went on about how your twenties are supposed to be your golden years or something of the sort. 

Yeah, Hendery was definitely not okay.  

Xiaojun > name a more iconic trio

8:05pm: are we still planning on going to the party on saturday? 8:05pm: i didn’t finish all of my homework yet and i’m debating on staying up later to get it done if we are gonna go

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

8:07pm: i’m gonna go no matter what so it doesn’t matter to me

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

8:10pm: where is it at?

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

8:11pm: the flyer said the club like two blocks away 8:11pm: i forgot the name

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

8:13pm: yeah i guess i’ll go 8:13pm: xiaojun you still have time though 8:13pm: it’s only wednesday you know 

Xiaojun > name a more iconic trio

8:17pm: right but if i don’t finish stuff now then i know i’m going to end up forgetting about it and i know i’m getting assigned more stuff tomorrow too 8:18pm: so like if i don’t do it now then everything is just going to pile up 8:18pm: and then i’m gonna be swamped on friday trying to get everything done before saturday

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

8:18pm: dude we get it lmao 8:19pm: i swear sometimes i can feel your anxiousness through the screen

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

8:19pm: so i guess xiaojun is staying up late tonight lol

Xiaojun > name a more iconic trio

8:19pm: sadly

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

10:58pm: if anyone wanted an update on me and indrani 10:58pm: things are going good :) 10:58pm: she just sent me a nude if that says anything

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

10:59pm: HENDERY HUANG WHAT IS GOING ON

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

11:00pm: chill we’re just casual

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

11:00pm: WHY ARE YOU SEXTING HER 11:00pm: YOU BETTER NOT HAVE SENT AN UNWANTED DICK PIC 11:00pm: ID BE SO EMBARRASSED TO BE YOUR FRIEND

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

11:01pm: … 11:01pm: what is that supposed to mean 11:01pm: actually nvm i don’t want to know 11:01pm: she initiated it first though

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

11:02pm: did you send anything back

Hendery > name a more iconic trio

11:04pm: yeah ofc  11:04pm: i’m not just gonna leave her hanging

Y/n > name a more iconic trio

11:06pm: dear god…

Y/n > Xiaojun

11:07pm: he’s worse than we thought

Xiaojun > Y/n

11:13pm: i hope he knows his intentions 11:13pm: and that he makes them clear to her 11:14pm: but knowing him i doubt he has

Y/n > Xiaojun

11:15pm: he did say that they’re ‘just casual’ 11:15pm: idk what that means though 11:16pm: i wouldn’t call sexting casual

Xiaojun > Y/n

11:20pm: yeah i wouldn’t either 11:21pm: i mean unless she’s just like him 11:21pm: but he’s going to want to date her

Y/n > Xiaojun 

11:30pm: he wants to date pretty much any girl that gives him attention 11:30pm: disgusting 11:30pm: i hate men

Xiaojun > Y/n 

11:36: :’(((

Y/n > Xiaojun 

11:40pm: you’re okay i guess

Xiaojun > Y/n 

11:48pm: :D 

Y/n > Xiaojun

11:51pm: okay no but like 11:51pm: he really has been people-hopping 11:51pm: i don’t think he’s had more than a few weeks between his last three girls

Xiaojun > Y/n

11:58pm: yeah this one was the shortest turnaround too 11:58pm: but i guess we just have to wait and see where he goes with this

Y/n > Xiaojun

12:04am: it’s going to be the same thing 12:04am: and you know it

Xiaojun > Y/n

12:06am: you’re probably right 12:06am: how much do you wanna bet he’s bringing indrani on saturday

Y/n > Xiaojun

12:07am: nothing because i don’t have money  12:07am: but we both know she’s coming at this point

Xiaojun > Y/n

12:12am: honestly yeah 12:13am: it would be a surprise if she wasn’t with him 

Sure enough, when Hendery walked through the door of the club on Saturday night, he had his arm around Indrani and wore a smug smile on his face. Indrani wore a tight-fitting black dress that showed off her cleavage and curves, attracting the gazes of many men in the club. You nudged Xiaojun and pointed over to where Hendery was talking to a few of his other friends near the entrance. “Of course,” you muttered, in no state of disbelief. 

“She looks nice. Maybe you can try talking to her and see what’s up,” Xiaojun commented. 

“Yeah, I will. Once Hendery gets drunk enough to forget that he came with someone,” you add. He had brought so many girls to these events that he often ended up having to ask you or Xiaojun whether he was with someone that night or not. 

You found your opportunity when Hendery wandered over to the beer pong table and jumped in on a team match. Sliding up to Indrani in a booth seat, you settled down next to her and introduced yourself with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. Hendery has mentioned you before,” Indrani shares. Her gaze was enchanting, and you knew exactly how she had fallen into Hendery’s grasp.

“Only good things, I hope,” you said with a chuckle. 

Indrani nodded as she took another sip from the colorful drink in front of her. “He told me about your chat with him and Xiaojun.” She paused to look over at the beer pong table where Hendery was gearing up for his turn. “I’m glad he has friends like you and Xiaojun in his life. He needs it.” 

You could tell Indrani meant well. The way she looked at him with so much passion and adoration. She didn’t deserve this. Hendery didn’t deserve her. The more you talked to Indrani, to more you saw just how sweet she was and how head over heels she was for the unfortunate excuse of a man that is Hendery. 

“You know, Hendery isn’t really the nicest guy sometimes,” you start. You wanted to warn her before she gets her heart broken like the others before her. Countless tears spilt for him, all for him to move onto the next target of his obsession. “I’m not sure if he has clarified the extent of your relationship yet, but to us, he said it was just casual.”

Indrani’s grip on her drink tightened just the slightest bit. “That’s okay, we haven’t decided on anything official just yet. We only just met, so I don’t want to pressure him into anything serious before he’s ready.” She was too kind.

“I get that, but listen,” you turn to face her in the booth, “I don’t think he’ll ever be ready for anything serious. If that’s what you’re looking for, I suggest looking somewhere else.” 

Her brow furrowed upon hearing your words, but before you had the chance to explain further, the beer pong table erupted in cheers. You both switched your gaze to the table where Hendery was celebrating in victory as the opposing team started downing their shots. He broke away from the crowd of people that were spectating the match and made his way over to the two of you, greeting both of you by name before offering a hand out to Indrani. “Care to dance?” 

You slid out of the booth to allow Indrani to take Hendery’s hand with a giggle as he guided her to the dance floor. “Think about it for a bit,” you called out to her, half-knowing that your words would be lost between the music and her tipsy state. 

Xiaojun’s eyes locked on yours from across the room, showing that he, too, had been observing the situation. You made your way over to him, weaving in and out of the sweaty bodies until you stood shoulder to shoulder with him against a wall in a quiet corner of the club. Both of you watched your friend feel up the beautiful woman in his arms before Xiaojun broke the silence between the two of you. “Chances of him taking her home tonight?” 

“You’d be a fool to think he wouldn’t.” You both knew Hendery’s habits better than anyone, which meant you knew that the couple would end up twisted between Hendery’s sheets before the end of the night. 

“Well, we know what happens at the end of this story,” Xiaojun says, as if reading your thoughts, “wanna head home?”

Xiaojun drove you home in comfortable silence, only his RB&B playlist and the quiet purr of the car’s engine filling the space. You had kept your eyes on the road for the most part but turned to Xiaojun as you came up with an idea. “What if I could fix him?”

“What?” You had Xiaojun perplexed.

“What if I could fix him?” You repeated.

You saw Xiaojun lift a brow, though he kept his attention on the road. “Fix Hendery? What do you mean?”

“What if,” you started slowly as you tried to figure out how to word your next statement, “what if, after Indrani, I show him that there’s more to life than girls and sex.”

Xiaojun was hooked now. “How would you go about that?”

“Look, I haven’t thought it entirely out yet, but I’m thinking-”

“Never a good sign,” Xiaojun interjected.

You scoffed, “as I was saying, maybe I get Hendery to fall for me next, and I keep him on a break from sex so maybe, just maybe, he’ll start to find himself outside of all the parties and relationships.”

Xiaojun hummed in thought as he turned onto the street of your apartment. “I like that you have good intentions, but I’m not sure that it’s the best method to go about helping him.” He slowed the car down to a gradual stop outside of your building. “Would you really be willing to take your friendship with him that far? It could ruin you guys.”

“Perhaps, but think about it,” you persevered, “he always says ‘it’s just casual’ so we could keep it ‘just casual’ too, you know? And if it’s ‘just casual’ then surely we could stay friends throughout it all. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? He’s not my type, so there’s no way we would end up together.” 

Xiaojun shrugged. “I’m only saying this as a friend to both of you, but maybe this is an issue for Hendery to figure out on his own-”

“But he’s not! He doesn’t even recognize that it’s an issue!” 

“Hey,” Xiaojun interrupted, trying to calm you down, “you can try if you want, but if this goes badly, that’s on you, and I won’t be choosing sides if it does.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you grabbed your things and opened the door, “I just want to help him before he goes off the deep end.”

“The deep end being?” Xiaojun peered over at you with one arm propped up on the center console. 

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know, I just want him to be regular again. I want him to be our Hendery again.”

Xiaojun called out your name before you closed the door. “He still is our Hendery. I’d trust that a good friend would know that friends stick with each other through their ups and downs.” 

“I am. That’s why I’m going to fix him.” You closed the door a little more forcefully than you wished, yelling a quick apology to Xiaojun before heading into your building.

Friends don’t let friends lose themselves. You weren’t going to let Hendery go down this path. 

Hendery showed up to lunch on Monday as chipper as ever, filled to the brim with details about how his night with Indrani went after the party. He began eagerly telling you and Xiaojun all the filthy details of the escapades despite being seated at a small table in the middle of a little garden within the music department complex. 

“She was an absolute dream, the way she deepthroated me and man, she’s so good with her tongue. Just thinking about it now makes me want to call her up and fuck her senseless. I may have been an ass type of guy before but after seeing her tits, I think I’ve changed my mind. She screamed my name so loud-”

Hendery abruptly paused, causing you and Xiaojun to snap back to reality after dissociating from all the sensual ramblings of your friend. Hendery’s eyes were glued to something over your shoulder, making you turn around. You couldn’t help but let out a hefty sigh as you saw Indrani making her way toward the three of you. 

There were only three seats at the table, so you excused yourself early so that she could have your seat. Indrani’s face flashed something of hurt, likely thinking that you didn’t appreciate her presence. “I’m going to class,” you inform the group before turning to Indrani. “It was nice to see you again.”

As you head off through the hallways of the building, you hear fast footsteps behind you. “Hey, wait up!” Xiaojun called. “Can’t believe you would just leave me with the two of them like that.”

You let out a laugh, thinking about the way Xiaojun’s cheeks had turned red while Hendery was recounting his activities. You tried to give an excuse for leaving him with the two lovers, “wanted to get a good seat for once.”

“You never pay attention in this class,” Xiaojun teased, rolling his eyes for extra sass. “Are you still thinking about your little plan to ‘fix’ Hendery?”

You hummed a slight “hmm,” feigning innocence before telling him, “I did, a tiny bit.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Xiaojun inquired.

“I figure that instead of an outright fake relationship type of thing, it would be more like a crash course on dating.” Xiaojun looked at you quizzically, not sure how you were going to pull this all off. “I show him how to treat a girl right and show him that it’s not difficult to do. Things like buying them flowers, texting them goodmorning instead of taking them home after the first date, sending dick pics, you know the gist.”

Xiaojun slowly nodded as he followed along. “So how are you going to break up the sex fiends?” 

“Oh, I won’t need to do any of that.” You knew Hendery well enough to predict his behaviors. “They’ll be broken up within the next week or so, I’m sure of it.”

And sure you were. Just as predicted, during the following week, as you joined the two boys for your regularly scheduled lunch at the music department, you saw the cracks forming in their relationship. Hendery was again spilling the details on the nasty sex he had with Indrani, this time in the back of his car. 

Aside from all the usual visual images he depicted, he also left little side comments that confirmed your suspicions. “You guys should have seen the way she took my cock all the way into her throat. I swear I’d marry her just for her throat if it wasn’t for the way she has all those stuffed animals in her room. They creep me out. Bunch of eyes staring at you while you’re naked and fucking their owner senseless.”

You shoot him a look, thinking about your own stuffed animals back home. “There’s nothing wrong with having stuffed animals, Hendery. Some of us like to have joy in life.”

Hendery scoffed at you. “They’re just so childish though, like the way she keeps texting me and asking what I’m doing, where I am. She’s so clingy, I’m not sure how much longer I can put up with it.”

Xiaojun’s eyes met yours as he took another bite of his sandwich. You shared a knowing look, both knowing what would happen in the following week. However, you had to put up your act as normal, trying to convince Hendery to stay with this girl and that maybe he finally found his match and should settle down. “Surely there must be something else you like about her besides her throat.”

Hendery paused from all the criticizing and sat back a little to think. “I like her style, the way she dresses. She always wears such tight, small shirts it’s like her tits are asking to be held and slapped.”

Xiaojun all but choked on his water, nearly slamming his water bottle back on the table. You laughed at the scene in front of you. “Well, I guess that’s something. How about anything not related to her body? There’s got to be a reason why you liked her in the first place.”

“I like that she doesn’t complain.” That was a start. “She doesn’t complain when I tie her up, when I blindfold her, she likes everything.” Back to square one. 

Even though it was Hendery’s choice to break off his little fling with Indrani, somehow, he ended up seeming worse off. The following week, he fell into a slump and failed to answer most of your calls and texts to him, along with Xiaojun’s. You waited until the weekend to finally go over to his apartment and have an intervention of sorts. 

Knowing Hendery, he was likely neglecting everything, including his classes, the cleanliness of his apartment, and his hygiene. You were not at all surprised when Hendery opened the door, albeit after five minutes of calling his name and banging on it, with no shirt on and his hair a mess. 

You barged into his apartment without a second thought, simply set on cleaning him and his place up and setting him back on his feet because this was getting to be pathetic. “Hendery, how long have you just been…doing nothing?”

He exhaled heavily. “Whatever day it was that she left me.” 

“No, no, no. She did not leave you. You dumped her,” you made clear. “But dumping someone is not an excuse to let yourself go like this. You have classes to go to and assignments to turn in. College is not just some fuck-fest. You’ll survive without some girl slobbering on your dick every damn night.” You made your way into his bedroom and started to analyze the mess that had accumulated.

“But I don’t want to do anything,” he whined. 

Rolling your eyes at him, you got to work throwing his clothes from the floor into his hamper and sorting trash into a pile. “Go get me your trash can and put your laundry in the wash,” you ordered, pushing the already full hamper towards him. 

He threw a tantrum like a child would, but eventually fetched the plastic bin from the kitchen, and you heard sounds of him turning on the washing machine. By the time you had finished cleaning a large portion of his bedroom, there was already another pile of clothes waiting to be washed. All your effort made you want to lie down on the carpeted floor, but your common sense said to fish his vacuum out of his closet and put it to use before doing that. 

Hendery had not been helping much aside from watching you and doing as told, which was theoretically better than simply lying in his misery and letting things continue to get worse. “Do you have water or something cold I can drink?” you asked, beads of sweat starting to build up from how much you were moving around. 

“Uhh, I haven’t been using the refrigerator for a while…” Hendery trailed off, refusing to meet your gaze.

“For fucks sake, do I have to clean that as well?” It was like he just totally stopped functioning as an adult. 

You dragged him to the kitchen and commanded him to start putting away his clean dishes that were sitting out on the counter and then wash the dirty ones festering in the sink. Once he was working, you made the mistake of throwing open the door to his refrigerator. 

Your nose was met with the pungent odor of stale food. It was so strong that it forced you to go outside for a few breaths of fresh air. “Men are disgusting,” you muttered before heading back inside and lugging the half-full trash can back to its place in the kitchen.

After nearly four hours of cleaning, folding clothes, and reorganizing the refrigerator, you lay in Hendery’s bed next to him while basking in the success of the day. Being his maid was so tiring that you started dozing off and probably would have fallen asleep too if Hendery had not broken the peaceful silence. “Thank you for coming to help me. I really do appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome,” you sighed. “I just hope I don’t have to do this again.” 

“I hope so too.” The air seemed to still as if waiting for what Hendery had to say next. “How about we date each other?”

“No.” You were shocked by his proposal but responded almost immediately. You didn’t think he would fall into your plans so easily, much less of his own volition. But you should have known better. The man wasn’t just addicted to sex, he was addicted to relationships, he was addicted to the feeling of being wanted by someone, he was addicted to the pursuit of love and lust.

“Come on, please?” You shook your head. “Why not?” he insisted. 

“I don’t want to,” you stated dryly. 

Hendery rolled over to face you. “But it makes so much sense! We’ve been together for so long, and you care about me enough to come and do something like this. Surely there must be something special between us.” 

Mirroring his position and staring him in the eyes. “Yes, and that something is called friendship,” you responded. “I don’t want to ruin it.” 

“I could make you so happy! I know what you like and what you don’t like in a relationship,” he pleaded. Upon seeing your flat expression, he decided to continue further. “I know you’ve been wanting a boyfriend for a while now. Just let me be-”

You cut him off with your lips on his, effectively stunning him and stopping his desperate whining. “I’m giving you one single kiss. Take it or leave it.”

“But now I want more.” He pouted and looked at you cutely, something he often did when you had a snack that he wanted. 

The demon inside you decided to go crazy for a bit. Pulling him in for another kiss, Hendery quickly escalated it. His tongue was pushing its way into your mouth, and you begrudgingly let him but made sure he knew that by biting his lip when he pulled away to breathe. “Watch it,” you warned. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” he quickly apologized before going back in and kissing more gently this time. He respected the boundaries set and allowed his lips to mold with yours, following your lead. It felt good to be kissed like this, nearly forgetting just who you were kissing. You pulled away and flopped onto your back, suddenly unsure of what was happening. “Sorry, was it something I did?” Hendery blurted.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just…I don’t know if this is the best thing to do for both of us.” You valued Hendery as a friend and did not want to lose him completely if things failed to work out…if things didn’t go according to your plan.

He moved closer, though he made sure to leave at least two inches between his body and yours. “But you felt that, right? You felt how we connected, didn’t you?”

You did, and you hated how easily he could tell. “So what?”

“So, what if we keep things on the low and see where they go. Not like friends with benefits, but we can start slowly and make our way up to being a more official couple, you know?” No, you did not know, but you wanted to get out of his apartment before anything else happened.

“Fine. We’ll see where things go, but don’t think I’m going to be easy on you just because we’re already close,” you threatened before picking up your belongings and leaving the scene of this emotional crime. “I don’t want sex, I don’t want pictures of your dick in my messages, I just want a regular guy, Hendery.” 

“Regular,” he repeats, “I can do regular.”

In the first week of your arranged situationship, Hendery had been as regular as he could be. He bought you lunch, waited for you after your classes, gave you his jacket when you got cold, and even bought you your favorite candy bar for a little support before a test. None of this was really new to your relationship, though, all of it being things he would already do just as a friend, albeit not this frequently. 

When you and Hendery showed up to lunch one afternoon with his arm slung around your shoulders, Xiaojun knew something was amiss. He looked between the two of you guys before quickly packing up his belongings and standing up, muttering under his breath, “no, no, no, I am not getting left alone with a rabid couple again.”

But truth be told, you were amazed with how well things were going. Hendery hasn’t had another girl over to his apartment since the day you came and cleaned up for him. You would know if there was someone else because you had started spending more time at Hendery’s place than your own. It only made sense since his was much closer to school than yours. 

Despite all the time you spent with him at his apartment, you didn’t let your relationship with him progress as quickly as you knew he wanted to. You knew what he wanted, and you knew to keep him on the edge. You had already set a ‘no sex’ rule that Hendery agreed upon for the first month, but he already was finding loopholes around it. 

He would take pictures of you, your ass, your tits, anything you would show to him so that he could save it to get off to later. Yet you never gave all of yourself to him. You were never fully naked around him and stayed strict to your rule even when Hendery was kneeling at your feet, cock hard and begging to be set free from his sweatpants, just as he begged you to let him fuck you senseless. 

The furthest you had let him go was eating you out and you sucking his dick. All the countless times he ground his erection into your folds and pleaded to let him in threatened you to give up, but you refused. You weren’t going to give in to him and his addictions so easily. You were going to keep him waiting for the best part of you, make him work for it, make him earn it.

You began to get a sense of just how touch-starved Hendery was become with the way he so eagerly bucked his hips into yours whenever he laid on top of you and the way he fucked your mouth whenever you allowed him the luxury of your warm lips. He would quickly come undone whenever you took the lead and touched his length, running a spit-covered hand up and down and all over his balls. “Please, can I come inside of you, please,” he would beg. 

You shook your head and refused every single time. “Regular, Hendery, regular.” 

“Having sex and fucking your partner is regular!” He’d cry out, but to no avail. 

Hendery practically counted down the days until the one month of no sex promise was over. He felt like he was withering away, and the only thing that could save him was you. He vowed over and over that he would make your first time together special, make it worth the wait. At first, it was just his own anticipation building as time went on, but soon you found that you were feeling the same. The end of your mutual promise fell right after the end of midterms week, and it couldn’t have come at a better time, the way you both needed an outlet to release your academic stress.

Sticking true to his words, Hendery set the mood for the night and made sure you knew how badly he wanted you from the second you set foot through his apartment door. His lips were on yours in a second. Passionate but fleeting as he pulled away with a smile. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” you mirrored as you noticed the shine in his eyes. 

“How was your day?” He knew to always ask how you were, what you were feeling. Something you told him about girls wanting to talk about their problems, wanting to feel acknowledged. 

“It was okay,” you tell Hendery as his hands find purchase on your waist. “I studied really hard for that midterm, but there were still questions I was unsure of…I hope I still did good enough for an A.”

Hendery stared at the way your lips moved while you spoke. He subtly licked his own before speaking. “I’m sure you did good. Don’t worry about it.”

“I know, I know. I just can’t help it when this test can push my final grade up to an A, and I really need it to-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Hendery pulled your body into his, his lips meeting yours with fire and frenzy. At first, you were shocked, but you quickly melted into the kiss with your hands trailing up his sides, onto his broad shoulders, then resting in the curve where his shoulders met his neck. When the two of you finally pulled away, you were both out of breath, lightly panting, and foreheads stuck together. “You know what today is, right?” Hendery asked. 

“The last day of midterm week?” You knew how he wanted to answer, but you weren’t going to give it to him that easily.

“And?” He pressed on.

You feigned confusion, tilting your head. “Friday?” 

Hendery let out a low groan, nearly a growl, as he pulled you in once again, his fingers gripping even tighter at your waist. “You remember our promise, don’t you?”

“Oh, our promise,” you repeat with mocking innocence. “How could I forget about that?”

“There’s no way in hell you forgot about it.” His voice was deep and dark. “Not when you teased me,” he ground his hips into you, showing how hard he was already, “edged me,” you felt his length throb against you, “and made me go crazy this whole time.” He turned you around and led you to his bedroom with a hand on your lower back. 

As you entered his bedroom, you let out a gasp at the rose petals sprinkled on the floor, a trail of them leading towards his bed where a large bouquet of them sat. His hand trailed down to your ass, lightly squeezing it. “Like it?” 

“Hendery, I- oh my goodness, yes! I love it!” You were in shock at how far he took this. Never in a million years did you think the guy who fucked girls in his car after the first date would have such a romantic side to him. The very thought of him going to a flower shop, buying roses, and scattering the petals in his room felt like a fever dream to you. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”

Hendery leaned into you, noses nearly touching. “I told you I would make our first time special.” He closed the distance between the two of you as your lips met his again with even more intensity than before. He bit at your bottom lip, teeth scraping the soft flesh as if showing you how desperate he was to have more of you. You smiled into his lips, placing your hands on his chest and slightly pulling away from him but not getting too far. Hendery placed both hands on the softness of your ass, smacking your left cheek as he locked eyes with you. “I’m going to make you feel so good tonight.” 

He pushed you down onto the bed, and you fell on your back next to the bouquet, the other scattered petals shifting around as he joined you. You grabbed the bouquet and brought it up to your nose, inhaling their fresh scent while Hendery crawled up the length of your body, hovering over you. “Smell them,” you tell him, bringing the flowers up to his face. 

He does as told, closing his eyes as he inhales. “Nice,” he opened his eyes again, “but not as nice as you.” He takes the bouquet from your hands before tossing it off to the side and returning his attention to your body. His right hand intertwines with your left while his other hand falls to your breasts. He kneads at it through the fabric of your bra as he plants kisses on your lips, cheeks, and jaw. Slowly, his kisses start trailing lower, starting at your neck, where he sucked and bit hard enough to leave a mark before continuing down to your collarbones. Hendery lets go of your hand, wanting to use both as his fingertips snuck under the hem of your shirt, continuing upwards until he found your soft breasts once more. He massaged them gently before pulling back and sitting on his knees to take off his shirt. 

You followed his lead and took your shirt and bra off, leaving your top half bare and vulnerable. Hendery grabbed both of your thighs, spreading them so he could settle down in between them, pulling you right up against his clothed cock begging to be freed from his pants. “See what you do to me?” His voice sent sparks through your body, and you felt your wetness begin to pool in your panties. He leaned down to kiss you once more, letting his torso rest against yours, bare skin sticking together as he rutted his erection into your clothed core. You let out a moan as he brushed against your clit, causing your hips to jerk up into his. Hendery groaned at the sudden friction, and his hands pinned your hips down. “You’re making me go insane.” 

“Maybe that was the point,” you say with a sly smile, bucking up into him once more. 

Hendery’s eyes fluttered shut briefly in pleasure. When he opened them next and his gaze locked onto yours, you knew you had unleashed something within him. “That’s it,” he muttered, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants and panties, pulling them both down in one go. You pulled your knees together once your clothing was off, feeling the slightest bit shy in front of him like this for the first time. Hendery used this to his advantage, putting your ankles together and holding them up with one hand to expose your bare pussy to him. “You’re so beautiful, dripping and wet just for me.” 

He ran a finger through your folds, making you shiver at his touch. “Look at you, so sensitive already.” He continued sliding through your wetness for a bit until he finally pulled away and brought your legs down, proudly showing you his hand. His index finger was coated in your juices, dripping down into his palm and onto his wrist. He held eye contact with you as he brought his hand up to his mouth, licking from his wrist all the way up to the tip of his finger, making sure to lap up all of you. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” 

His hands fell to his jeans, palming at his aching cock before unbottoning his own pants and swiftly taking them off with his underwear. When he sat on his knees once more, you finally got to take in the sight of his full naked body. His hair stuck to his face, covered in a slight layer of sweat, his light casting shadows upon his chiseled chest and abs, his dick hard and swollen, the tip red and already covered in precum. 

Your walls clenched around nothing, already anticipating the feeling of his length inside of you. Hendery ran a hand through his hair, mouth slightly parted as he took in every detail of your naked body. For the first time, he got to see all of you. His closest female friend, entirely nude in his bed and all for him to take. His eyes ran up and down your body as if he were memorizing every dip, every mole, every part of you. “Spread your legs for me, beautiful.” You obliged and parted your thighs while Hendery laid down on his stomach, his face nestling right against your wetness. 

Hendery had eaten you out multiple times before, and you were no stranger to how amazing his tongue felt. You let out a whine when he licked a long stripe up the center of your core, his tongue picking up your overflowing juices. He did it a second, then a third time, wanting to savor the taste of you before continuing. Once he was satisfied, he brought his hands up to your body, the left hooking around your thigh and the right toying with your sensitive clit. Using the arm secured around your thigh, he held you in palace as he started his attack against your pussy, completely ravaging it as his tongue ventured through your folds. His nose brushed against your pelvic bone, occasionally nudging at your clit, making your body jerk around in Hendery’s hold but he held you strong and firm against the mattress as his tongue entered your walls. He ate you out as if he were a starved man and you were the first meal he’s had in days. 

You were so lost in the feeling of his tongue, his strong arm flexing against your leg, that you barely even noticed when he introduced a finger into your core. It slipped past your entrance with ease and worked in tandem with his tongue, stretching you out a little more before he inserted a second. He began curling his fingers, brushing that special spot inside you, making you moan and squirm. His mouth pulled away as he took in the full expanse of your body writhing because of his touch. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Hendery marveled at the way your pussy sucked in his two fingers, adding in a third and watching how your hole stretched to accommodate his digits. 

He thrust his three fingers into you, quickening his pace as your breathing grew heavy. His mouth dove back in, his tongue lapping at your clit and your sopping folds, picking up any of your nectar that escaped from your entrance. You felt that familiar heat in your stomach as Hendery continued, but he knew your tells and slowed down his pace. You looked down to the spot where his fingers were entering you and let out a frustrated groan. “More, I want more.” 

“More? Already?” Hendery chuckled. “Look at you, already so needy for me.” He pushed himself up and repositioned himself over you, his bare chest coming into contact with yours once more as his lips made contact with your jaw. “Were you as desperate for me as I was for you? I waited this whole month to fuck you, make you scream my name.”

His lips made their way to yours as his left hand reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a small packet from the surface. When he pulled away, a strand of spit stretched between the two of you as if it were a physical manifestation of the want you had for each other. He sat back onto his heels and ripped open the condom package, tossing the wrapper off to the side before giving you the oiled rubber. “Put it on for me,” he commanded. 

You sat up and aligned the tip with his and slid your hand down his length, unfurling the codom over his throbbing cock that was pulsing in your hand. Hendery’s breath hitched in his throat as your hand made it to the base of his dick then travled to his balls that sat heavy and full. You kissed his covered tip, using one hand to softly pump his length while the other fondled his balls. Hendery moaned at the sight in front of him, his hips bucking forward ever so slightly. He loved the way you touched him and his cock, the way you treated it so gently before it wrecked you from the inside out. 

His hands fell to your shoulder, pushing you back down into the softness of his bed, his left arm wrapping around your head and cushioning your fall. Using his right hand, he positioned his member at your aching hole, and your hands flew up to his chest in anticipation. He ran the tip of it up and down your dripping folds, using your juices to coat him before he slowly pressed into you. You whimpered and your fingernails scratched at his skin as you felt the delicious stretch of his cock entering your tight walls. He let out he most sensual moan as you took him inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of you, every pulse and throb of his dick only arousing you further. 

Hendery propped himself up on his left forearm while his right hand came to rest at your hip, holding you steady as he looked down to where the two of you were connected. “God, you feel even better than I imagined. So tight and warm. You take me so well.” His words of praise made you clench around him, eliciting a huff from him. 

He slowly pulled out until all that was left was his tip before pushing back in. The sound of your pussy enveloping him was so lewd it had you looking away from him. “Hey,” his right hand came to your jaw, forcing you to turn back to him. “Look at me while I fuck you.” Again, he pulled out to the tip and pushed back in, this time with more force. He repeated his actions, picking up speed with each time he shoving his cock into you until his was thrusting at a stable pace. 

His dick felt so good inside you, filling you up in just the right way. You cried out his name when his spongy tip hit the spot inside you that had you shutting your eyes from the pleasure. “That’s right, say my name, pretty girl,” he growled. You felt your orgasm creeping up on you again, wound tight like a rubber band about to snap. Hendery felt you clenching around him. “Gonna cum? Gonna cum on my cock for the first time? Cum on the cock you waited a whole month for?” 

You moaned as his dick reach all the right places, bring you to your edge. “Hendery, I’m gonna-” 

You choked on your words, and Hendery delivered a particularly hard thrust, his balls slapping against you. “Gonna what?” He rasped.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine, “gonna cum on your cock, all over your thick, juicy, fUCK-”

Hendery sped up his pace, drilling into you and making you see stars. “That’s it, cum for me. Cum on this dick.” Your eyes shut, and walls clamped down on him as your orgasm ripped through you, making your body writhe beneath him. “Oh fuck,” he all but whimpered, feeling the way your pussy fluttered around him in waves as he continued thrusting into you, sending himself over the edge. You felt him fill the condom with his cum, his member throbbing and pulsing with each spurt. Hendery grunted with one final thrust, going as deep as he could, making you gasp at the sensation of being so full and so fucked out. 

Hendery let himself fall onto you, panting, his length twitching inside of you as your orgasm wore off. His head laid on your chest, listening to your racing heartbeat. “How was that?” 

“Amazing,” you tell him, eyes still closed as you come back to your senses, “maybe the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Well worth it,” you reassure him. Hendery hums in content at your answer while you both catch your breath.

After having sex with him for the first time, it felt like a whole new world was opened up to you. Hendery’s sex drive was insatiable for the entire week after that. He had to have you in any way he could. In the kitchen, on the couch, in the shower, bent over the laundry machine, anything. You were sure his desperation showed while you were both out in public, too, with how he was constantly touching you and biting his lip while he looked at you. 

Maybe you didn’t mind this. Maybe you didn’t mind the way he blurred the lines between friends and lovers. 

You soon followed his actions, all the stray kisses he left when you were least expecting, all the times he grabbed your ass at the end of a hug. You started holding his hand more often, sitting in his lap while he gamed, and kissing him whenever you parted ways. But that’s when you noticed it.

Hendery stopped reaching out to you, he no longer texted you sweet messages in the mornings, he didn’t hold you as tight as he used to, and he stayed out later and later with each passing day. In the back of your head, you knew that this was a possibility, that it was, perhaps, inevitable. Yet part of you was hurt by it, as if you refused to believe that the very thing you set out the fix was now the thing that was keeping you awake at night. 

Everything fell apart when you went with him to another party, thinking it would be a good way to unwind, when you saw him talking to another girl. Not just talking to her, flirting with her, eyeing her up and down, telling her words that he had previously reserved just for you. 

You stared him down from your seat as anger began brewing in your mind. As if feeling your gaze boring into him, Hendery broke away from his conversation with the girl in front of him, eyes sweeping the room until they found yours. You clenched your jaw as he took in your expression. He turned back to the girl, muttering a quick goodbye before begrudgingly making his way back to your side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you spat. 

“Alright,” Hendery shrugged, “if you say so.” That was it. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you want anything?”

“No. I’m going to go home,” you tell him, pushing yourself up from your seat. 

Hendery remained indifferent. “Okay, suit yourself.”

You stormed out of the party as tears threatened to fall from your eyes. As soon as the cool, night air hits your face, you set them free. You fell to the ground, backsliding down against a brick wall as your hot, salty tears washed down your already searing cheeks. 

How could you have been so naive? How could you have thought you could fix someone so far gone? How could you be so blind to think that your efforts would actually mean anything? 

You felt so many emotions all at once. Anger. Embarrassment. Jealousy. Love.

You couldn’t go back in there. Back to Hendery. Yet you didn’t know what else to do, your hands shaking as you brought your phone up and called Xiaojun to take you home. 

When Xiaojun eventually arrived, one look at your tear-stained face told him everything that he needed to know before he helped you into his car. Both of you sat silently, his same RB&B playlist on, just like that night were you hatched this godforsaken plan. 

You were an idiot for thinking you could change Hendery. 

Days went by without any contact from Hendery. Perhaps he realized where he went wrong, perhaps he was typing an apology to you at this very moment. It was pathetic, the way you kept trying to delude yourself into thinking he would come back to you. 

Y/n > Xiaojun

8:10pm : i need to get out of my apartment 

Xiaojun > Y/n

8:12pm : i’m down 8:13pm : heard one of the clubs is doing a 2 for 1 special tonight

Y/n > Xiaojun

8:13pm : bet

You felt the bass from the music reverberating through your body as you made your way through the crowded bar with Xiaojun. You were thankful that you had him in your life, always there to pick you up when you were feeling down. Yet you couldn’t help but feel the presence of a missing third person whenever it was just the two of you. You pictured his smiling face, the slight dimples on his cheeks, the way his eyes crinkled whenever you told him the simplest of jokes. A ghost of his laughter rang through your ears, and you remembered the way he called your name, except it got louder and louder until it was right behind you. 

You whipped around, expression unreadable as you swam in a turmoil of emotions. “Hey,” he greeted you and Xiaojun, “nice seeing you guys here.”

“Yeah, figured she could use a night out.” Xiaojun said as you eyes stayed glued to the floor. 

“It’s been a while.” Hendery’s hand reached for yours as he spoke, but your ripped it out of his grasp. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” You snapped. Xiaojun looked between the two of you before excusing himself to the restroom, leaving you defenseless.

“Listen, we need to talk.” Just hearing Hendery’s voice was enough to send you spiralling again. “I don’t think this is working out.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. “It’s not,” you croaked out, fighting through the lump in your throat.

“I think maybe we’d be better off as just friends, yeah?” Hendery used a hand to tilt your chin up, his wide eyes finding your teary ones. 

His eyes searched yours while waiting for you to speak. “I don’t think we can go back to being friends after this, Hendery.”

“Hey, no, don’t be like that,” he pleaded. 

“I know we can’t, and so do you.” You shook your head, escaping from his grasp. “This is how you always are, breaking one heart then moving on to the next. I know you’re probably already talking up some other girl, just waiting to get them into your bed so you can fuck them senseless. Hell, she’s probably here with us right now!” Hendery could only stand there as you spilled your heart out. “I just don’t get it. I don’t get how you could be so heartless, so mean…Going from person to person as if their feelings mean nothing to you. I bet you don’t even think about how they feel when you leave. You’re too dense to think of anyone else’s feelings because all you do is think with your dick and nothing else!”

Hendery stood there and watched you talk through your thoughts. He didn’t even flinch when you put your hands on his chest and shoved him away, clearing a path so you could run out of the club as tears began rolling down your face. He stayed rooted in his spot even after you disappeared into the crowd of people. He couldn’t chase after you, not when he knew you were right.

This is who he is. This is his regular. Lust is his regular.

Autoplay: If you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Say It - X.Dejun

[sailoryuns]

COMPANIONSHIP ─── JJH [ TEASER ]

summary: after being released from prison for a crime he never committed, jaehyun sets out to conjure up the perfect plan in order to keep up the façade that he’s happily married and is out living his best life— by kidnapping a complete stranger and forcing them to pose as his wife to gain his inheritance.

genre. ex convict!jaehyun x tap dancer!f!reader | 90’s au, strangers to lovers

warnings. angst, (some) fluff, smut, age gap (jaehyun is late 30’s/reader’s in her early 20’s), smoking (cigs), kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, stockholm syndrome, physical violence, knifeplay, dubcon, fingering, unprotected s*x, loss of virginity, breeding, more warnings to be added once the full fic is up! teaser wc -> 1.7k

inspired by the film ‘buffalo 66’

disclaimer: everything i write is purely fictional, none of it is meant to portray real interpretations of these people nor am i claiming it to be!

for three years, he was certain he knew how to play this. three whole years, he’d made phone calls from prison and pretended he lived a life he could scarcely imagine. it started with shame and grew from there. he didn’t care about disappointing his parents, but his grandmother wouldn’t have recovered if she’d known where he was— behind bars fabricating these outlandish tales all for her sake.

his grandmother wanted nothing more than for him to meet a nice girl to settle down with. someone who’d love him right; a girl who’d look beyond all the baggage he carried and devote herself to him; a girl who’d keep him out of trouble and one he could put down roots with.

and jaehyun did, but in his other life.

in that life, he’d transitioned from a blue-collar existence working as a mechanic to the lavish lifestyle of a wealthy executive. he’d mastered the art of schmoozing with the owner of the auto repair shop to secure his slot with the big corporate elites. from there, he climbed the ladder that steered him out of trouble and jet-setted around the world.

in that life, he had his own office and a secretary. he had a pretty little wife who loved him and thought the sun rose and fell with him. in that life, he was too busy to spend time with his grandmother and when she passed away, he internalized the guilt of not only lying to her but breaking her heart too.

now only one thing mattered.

his fictitious life that’d cost him so much could now earn his inheritance of cash. that was the stipulation written in the will— that he live on the straight and narrow and marry a nice girl.

but as he’s forced to come face to face with all the endless lies he never wanted to tell, after three years, he’d have to keep lying because jaehyun had to materialize a pretty, sweet wife who loved him, the nice girl he’d chose to settle down with. but truth be told, he didn’t know any nice girls.

he knew stone-cold bitches who ripped his heart out for sport. he knew many aloof upper east side princesses that made damn sure he knew his place— in their thousand thread count sheets for a good time only. it turned out those trust fund nepo babies in three-piece suits were just good for making money, not fucking.

those men put their girls up in lavish digs and jaehyun did his part. he left them crying and coming and begging for him to stay as he shucked back into his clothes before their wall street fiancé returned home. those were mutually parasitic set-ups. he often never saw them again and never really cared that he didn’t.

and so it was; no nice girls who’d come up behind him and kiss his cheek while he sat in a recliner and watched the football game on sundays; no nice girls who’d make him his favorite dinner after a long day of work; no nice girls who’d offer themselves up as dessert with their legs spread and heart open and whisper words of love before falling asleep in his arms.

he’d once wanted that but didn’t have time for that shit anymore. it was all fairy tale garbage. even with nice girls, things often went south. marriages turned loveless and people got their kicks elsewhere. his grandmother lived in a different time. she meant well for his sake, but whatever her dream was for him with love, it just wasn’t going to pan out.

jaehyun stared at the quarter and shook his head with a sigh. he’d have to wing it. he slotted the coin again and punched in his parents’ number before doubt sunk it’s claws into him.

after a few rings, a disgruntled greeting rips through the other end of the line along with a cacophony of background noise— the TV blaring at full volume and the erratic shuffling of papers. he honestly wasn’t sure if it was his two-pack-a-day mother or father who answered. at some point, they both started sounding alike, one unit of congruent misery and loathing for the life they shared.

“hey it’s me,” jaehyun spoke, awaiting a response on the other end.

“who?” the demand was his mother’s. his father rarely answered the phone for this precise reason—it could be his son calling. jaehyun wasn’t moved enough to care. in fact, being disenfranchised from the family was a badge of honor. he’d wear it proudly, but first he wanted his money.

“jaehyun,” he snipped, cutting off the unraveling ends of his patience.

“sorry, who?” her gravel tone became more agitated and with more schlepping of shit in the background, as if fabricating an excuse to hang up; too goddamn busy clipping coupons to talk.

“jaehyun, your son!” he shouted in irritation, “turn the damn TV down, ma!”

“you two made it in town okay? your flight was good?” she asked to check the box of common decency, only to say that she did and not because she cared.

jaehyun cleared his throat and tried to sound jet lagged. he hadn’t been on a plane in more than a decade. what the fuck did he know about it? not shit.

“yeah, it was fine. we’re at the hotel now. i’m calling from the lobby. it’s packed here.” he lied through his teeth so effortlessly, it was second nature for him. every hiccup had an explanation, every background noise an excuse.

“we’re at the fancy hotel, with room service, champagne, the whole nine yards.” jaehyun rested his elbow on top of the pay phone case and cradled his forehead in his palm. “yes the one downtown on madison ave. it’s a big room, it’s beautiful here you’ll love it. it’s the most expensive hotel in the area.”

“no, don’t come here ma,” he quickly interjects, “i said we’ll go to you, okay?”

“come for dinner. we wanna finally get to meet our daughter-in-law. you’ve been talking about her for so long!”

jaehyun stiffened, fiddling with the phone cord. “she’s not coming. she’s sick.”

the excuse was too defensive. his mother didn’t suffer fools or bullshitters, to which jaehyun found himself guilty of both.

“what do you mean she’s not coming?” she demanded. the intermittent drags of her cigarette came quicker; so too did the forceful exhales. “she’s coming.”

“no, she’s sick. she’s not coming, alright? i’m her husband, the man of the house. i vowed to protect her, in sickness and in health, all that shit. i’m not making her go.”

“why is she sick?”

jaehyun gritted his teeth. the question infuriated him on behalf of his imaginary wife. what gave his mother the right to pry?

“i don’t fucking know! woman problems. she’s in bed sleeping. i’m not waking her up. she needs to rest.”

“well she can lie on the couch here with a heating pad,” his mother insisted with more artificial sugar, as if she cared. she didn’t; not for him or his wife. “just bring her over. we want to meet her.”

jaehyun was fuming at this point. if it weren’t for the metal cord tethering him to the spot, he’d pace. instead, he punctuated each word with a sharp jab of his finger, though there was no one here to see. his voice crowded the hall and echoed around him.

“so you want me to ride my ass all the way up the elevator, drag my sick wife out of bed, and bring her over? is that really what you want?”

the honey vacated his mother’s voice and left behind all that was rotten beneath.

“i know why you’re coming, and you know the agreement,” she hissed. “show up with your ‘nice girl’ or you’ll leave here empty-handed.”

“fine!” he raged with no recourse to refuse, cornered now unless he wanted to come clean but he doubled down instead. “she’s fucking sick, but i’ll pull my beautiful wife out of our fancy hotel bed, drag her into the cold, and bring her over for your shitty cooking. wait ’til you see how sweet she is. how are you gonna feel when she’s at your place feeling like shit? huh? you gonna feel good about that?”

with a cutting laugh, his mother revealed the vivid hues of her true colors. try as she might to paint over them, they always ended up mottled and drab.

“i can assure you i’ll lose no sleep over it. not a wink. so, you’re coming?”

“i said we’re fucking coming!” jaehyun slammed the receiver back to it’s cradle hard enough that the pay phone bell responded with a crying ring. he ran his fingers through the loose length of his hair and released a heavy sigh but felt no better for it.

he had well and truly dug his own grave with this one. the worst part? he’d already gone and made plans for his inheritance. he’d get his job back at the auto shop and get a few years under his belt, enough to get his “working hands” back.

he’d leave new york city for good and head out west where money would last, and he could relish simple dreams. he’d leave behind a muted existence and live in the desert painted in coral and gold and drink in the purple dusk. he’d buy a little house and live out his days in simple peace. it was a lot of money he was coming into, but not much he was asking for.

he sunk further into defeat now. he’d wallow there, but as you emerged from the bathroom delicately enough and with enough misplaced compassion written on your face, it was obvious you had overheard.

and what did you overhear? a man trying to get his poor, sick wife out of dinner plans. not just that, but apparently, a gallant albeit foul-mouthed knight in shining armor defending his beloved from forced family bonding.

you hovered at the end of the hall and stared at him inquisitively. big, doe-like eyes peering at him as if you had gotten him all wrong, the corners of your mouth lifted with a youthful smile. jaehyun stared back at you. neither of you making any sudden movement, but for far different reasons.

maybe you thought he was a good man after all, a tender man beneath the rough and uncouth exterior. but soon enough you would learn to your detriment just how wrong you’ve been…

there will be a taglist for this if anyone’s interested, so lmk if you wish to be tagged once it’s posted! <3 (i plan to get this finished by next month or so but we’ll see)

[chenlezip]

.⊹˖ᯓ★. ݁₊ love at first like | a mark lee smau

004: the soft launch.

꒰ annas note: ꒱ i know this took forever for me to get out but i truly hope you guys enjoy the chapter :( i kept having to rewrite so much of it because I DONT LIKE THE WAY IVE WROTE THIS but it will have to do (i hate disappointing because everyone was super excited and i don’t want to let you guys down T_T).

it was finally (dreadfully) the next day and you almost forgot that you and mark had to go on a fake date until you awoke to your phone buzzing. wondering who it was bothering you, you turn to your side and grab your phone, mark showing up on the screen.

[9:00AM] mark nct: dude are you awake? 🤔

[9:05AM] mark nct: its our fake date today, come on

[9:30AM] mark nct: i'm waiting outside ur dorm, take ur time to get dressed and things. i have something believable planned if ur comfortable? hopefully? just hurry.. please..

you get up out of your comfy bed, ripping the duvet from around your waist with a heavy sigh. "why today?" you groan to yourself as you quickly get dressed into something nice. as soon as you leave your dorm, you see mark dressed in a red jumper, some beige pants and docs.

“you look smart for our ‘date’, don’t you?” you ask with a small laugh as he looked up, his throat drying a little at what you were clad in. wow. you looked great. obviously, he didn’t want to say that out loud so with a small fake cough and an arm moving to his nape, he asked if you were ready to go and you said yes.

as you both start walking, mark seems.. oddly very quiet so you decide to speak up, startling him in the process. “you’re quiet, what’s on your mind?” “huh? oh, just- i don’t know.. i want this to be realistic, you know?” you chuckle and shake your head at his words. why was he panicking trying to make it realistic?

“whatever you’ve picked out, i’m sure it will be good, well i hope anyway because we need to pull it off..”

and.. when you arrive at the destination, you suppose he did a pretty damn good job at it. a beautiful fountain nearby with grass surrounding it. a pink plaid blanket on the grass, wine bottle and two glasses in a picnic basket, delicious snacks placed onto it too. “wow..” you mumble softly as you take in the sight, it was scenic.

you both sat together, getting to know one another more, soft laughs shared between and small whispers as you tried to perfect the photos you were taking of the area and one another.

“ah, can i post this one?” mark asked you and you look up to see a photo of the scenery, your arm just in the corner with your hair, making it definitely look like a soft launch. you smile and nod, “sure. it looks good, you’re good at taking photos. who taught you? i know you learnt from someone.” you joke and he chuckled, shaking his head, “definitely wasn’t the best before but jaemin, i don’t know if you know him, but he’s the best photographer i know and i got some tips from him just for this..”

he got tips from his friend (and fellow member) just to get some photos of you for a fake date? damn, he’s committed alright.

by the end of the day, mark drops you off back at your dorm and blurted out, “for a fake date, that was pretty real, wasn’t it? i hope you enjoyed it.. i- uh, tried my best to make sure you did and that you were comfortable throughout the whole thing.”

“i did mark, and don’t worry. i was comfortable.. hey, let’s try something a little more open next time. if you’re up for it?” you ask and his eyes lit up, “yo, for real? i’ll figure something out and i’ll be in touch. anyway though, i best get going, goodnight yn. be safe.” and that was it, bidding goodbye and then you got comfortable for bed after doing your nightly routine.

you lay under the covers, sighing softly as you scroll through socials, seeing all the talk about you and marks stories today. you let out a soft giggle at some reactions, were people always this dramatic about their favourite idols? you suppose you understood it, you felt that way about your celebrity crush.

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tags: @polarisjisung @luvmrk @finewinesixtynine @bbyjjunie @multifandomania @jenocity23 @iluv7tn @sungbites @haluenx @222brainrot @iluvkyo @ayukas @mmjhh1998 @skibidihan @f6llsun @florihaei @kiszjuli @cloudmrk @cigsaftersuh @i06hae @neozon3nha @urlocalbeaner5 @sunghoonsgfreal @nasasungs @mbella607 @desssss-0 @prettymoles @haechsworld @mejaemin @yizhrt @fullmoon0606 @n0hyuck @dilflover44 @nctdreamchaser @stuckonmark @bananinhazz @luvs4haechan @tynlvr @remgeolli @jae-n0 @blondemrk @lukeys-giggle @mimi894 @haechyuckan @jakiki94 @sacdepixie @bluedbliss @yoyomul @nctrawberries @hoeingthefuckup @joneborder (if i forget to tag anyone plspls let me know!!)

[blueberry3241]

Heat of the moment | Johnny suh

Summary : What starts as innocent teasing while waiting for dinner spirals into a full-blown, house-wide session of desperate touches, stolen breaths, and steamy tension—starting in the kitchen, spilling into the shower, and ending in the quiet aftermath of soft I-love-yous.

Disclaimer : This is an original work of fiction. All characters, settings, and story elements are my own creation. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental. Please do not reproduce, distribute, or adapt this work without my explicit permission.

Warnings : Explicit sexual content (18+), Kitchen counter sex, Shower sex, Oral sex (male receiving & female receiving), Praise kink, Slight dominance / possessiveness, Semi-public tension (door unlocked for delivery), Dirty talk, Soft aftercare & emotional vulnerability

↷Pairing : Johnny Suh x Girlfriend!Reader ↷Genre : Smut, Domestic Intimacy, Established Relationship, Fluff (ending), Slow Burn to Fast Heat ↷word count : 6.3k words

Masterlist

It started with the way he looked at you.

Not just casually—hungrily.

You were barefoot in his kitchen, one of his sleeveless shirts hanging loosely on your frame, barely brushing your thighs. The hem kept riding up every time you reached for a spice or turned to grab something from the fridge. He leaned against the counter with a beer in hand, eyes trailing you like he hadn’t seen you in weeks, even though he kissed you this morning before work.

> “You’re gonna make me drop this bottle,” Johnny said, voice smooth as the beer he sipped.

You shot him a smirk over your shoulder, slowly stirring the pot of pasta on the stove.

> “Then maybe you should stop staring and start helping.”

“I am helping,” he said, stepping closer, crowding into your space. “I’m supervising. Very closely.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to step around him, but he didn’t budge. Instead, his hand slid around your waist, palm splayed warm against your stomach, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

> “Do you know what you look like right now?”

“A tired woman making dinner while her boyfriend flirts instead of setting the table?”

“No,” he murmured, voice dropping. “You look like something I want to ruin.”

Your breath caught.

He pressed closer—his chest against your back, hips aligning perfectly—and you could already feel the heat of him through your thin cotton panties. It made your thighs clench.

> “Johnny.”

“Mm?”

“I’m trying to cook.”

“And I’m trying to not bend you over the counter right now, so I’d say we’re both struggling.”

You turned in his arms, face flushed, hands braced against his chest. He was smiling—but it was dark, slow, like he already knew he was going to win this little game. His fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, tugging you closer.

> “We have time before the pasta’s done,” he whispered.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re so fucking hot when you’re bossy in the kitchen.”

Then he kissed you.

Not sweet.

It was needy. Tongue and teeth, hands gripping your hips like he was already imagining how they’d feel under him. You whimpered against his mouth, and that sound broke him.

“Get on the counter,” he growled, hoisting you up without waiting for permission. The cool stone bit into your bare thighs. “Need to taste you. Right now.”

He sank to his knees between your legs, pushed your thighs apart with slow reverence, and kissed up your inner thigh like worship.

“J-Johnny—”

“Shh,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You smell like heaven. Let me have it.”

He dragged your panties aside, licking a slow, torturous stripe up your center. Your head fell back. One hand tangled in his hair, the other clawed at the countertop.

“F-fuck—”

“That’s it,” he said between licks. “Give it to me. Let me hear you.”

His tongue moved like sin—slow, deliberate circles, then sharp flicks against your clit until your thighs were trembling, your moans echoing in the kitchen. He slid two fingers inside you, curling just right, pressing into that spot that made you see stars.

You were close. So close.

And Johnny knew it.

“Come for me, baby. Make a mess. I’ll clean it all up.”

And you did. With a choked cry and shaking thighs, body arching off the counter. He kept going, kissing you through it like he loved the way you came undone.

When he finally stood, your legs were still twitching, breath shallow, lips parted. He leaned in, licking his bottom lip, tasting you.

“Still wanna cook?”

“Fuck you.”

“Gladly.”

He spun you gently, laid your upper body down flat on the cool countertop, and tugged your panties down in one slow, teasing move. His hands gripped your hips, dragging you back toward him as he freed himself from his sweats.

“Tell me you want it,” he said, voice strained. “Tell me you need me.”

You looked back at him with glassy eyes.

“I need you. Please. Johnny—please.”

He slid in deep, one long thrust that made both of you groan.

“God, you’re so tight,” he panted. “So wet. You were waiting for this, huh?”

“Y-yeah—”

“So fucking good for me.”

He started slow, savoring the feel of you clenching around him. Every drag of his cock made your nails scrape across the counter. He leaned over your back, hand finding your throat, not choking—just holding, grounding you there.

“No one else gets you like this. No one else ever will.”

“Only you—”

“That’s right, baby. Say it.”

He picked up the pace. Deep, punishing strokes that filled you to the brim. The sound of skin slapping, your broken moans, his name over and over again. You were so full, so far gone, your legs barely holding you up.

“Come for me again,” he whispered in your ear. “Let go for me.”

And you did. The second time hit harder—your whole body clenching around him, head spinning. He groaned loud, hips stuttering as he came with you, spilling deep inside, panting into the crook of your neck.

After a moment of silence—only broken by the soft music still playing from the speaker—he pulled out gently and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder blades.

“You okay?”

“I might never walk again.”

“I’ll carry you to bed.”

“And what about the pasta?”

“Dinner’s officially postponed.”

He lifted you off the counter with that signature Johnny strength, carrying you like his most fragile treasure, and nuzzled into your neck.

“Next time, wear nothing under my shirt. Makes the prep work easier.”

You were still catching your breath as Johnny carried you down the hallway, your body boneless in his arms.

His skin was sticky with sweat, your thighs were a mess of slick and warmth, and the way your chest still rose and fell in shallow bursts had him aching to touch you again already. But he didn’t say it—just kissed your forehead and whispered:

> “Let’s shower, yeah? Then I’ll order food.”

Your body nodded before your mouth could form words.

In the bathroom, the light was soft—warm and golden, like honey on tile. Johnny set you down gently, fingers skimming down your arms like he couldn’t stop touching you even for a second.

He turned on the shower, adjusted the water temperature, and held his hand under the stream until it was perfect.

> “Get in. I’ll be right behind you.”

You stepped under the water, sighing as it poured over your shoulders, washing away the sweat, the tension, the dizzy high of moments before.

But not the heat.

Never that—not when Johnny joined you seconds later, fully naked, skin glistening, hair already wet and sticking to his forehead.

He pressed up behind you, hands on your hips, mouth brushing your damp shoulder.

> “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just…” You looked back over your shoulder. “Can’t believe we fucked on your kitchen counter.”

He chuckled, low and deep. “I can. I’ve been thinking about it since Tuesday.”

You elbowed him lightly, but he just kissed your temple and reached for the body wash. His hands were ridiculously gentle now—lathering the soap, sliding his palms along your arms, your stomach, down the curve of your ass, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

> “You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, almost more to himself than to you. “Like… every fucking part of you.”

You turned to face him—and something in his eyes shifted. He wasn’t teasing now. He was looking. At your wet hair, flushed cheeks, lips swollen from earlier. Like he was still hungry.

His hands moved to your waist. One slid up between your breasts, thumb grazing the soft skin, then up to your neck, tilting your chin so your eyes met his.

> “Can I have you again?” he asked, voice barely a whisper under the patter of water.

“You already have me.”

“I mean now. In here.”

And the second you nodded, he kissed you again—open-mouthed and wet and deeper than anything he gave you in the kitchen. This one was slow, starving, like he needed to remind himself how you tasted.

Your back hit the cool shower wall, a sharp contrast to his heat, and you gasped. He smiled against your lips, then dropped to his knees in the water.

Just like that.

> “Johnny—”

“Let me.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, lifting one over his shoulder. “I want you to come on my tongue this time. Want to feel you shake.”

You should’ve known better than to think you were getting clean.

His tongue found you in seconds—hot and slick and perfect. The angle had you grinding helplessly against his mouth, your back arching, your hands sliding against the slippery tile as you moaned his name again and again.

> “Johnny—f-fuck, it’s too—”

“You can take it.” His voice vibrated against your core. “You’re my good girl, right?”

You came so hard your knees buckled—and he caught you easily, rising with you in his arms like he’d planned it.

> “God, I love when you fall apart for me.” He nuzzled your cheek, breathing hard. “You drive me insane.”

And then—you dropped to your knees.

Water streamed down his chest, highlighting every muscle. His cock stood flushed and heavy, and the second your mouth wrapped around him, his whole body shuddered.

> “Shit—baby—” His hand braced against the wall as he tilted his head back. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

You worked him slow, hands on his thighs, mouth wet and warm, tongue swirling as you took him deep. He looked down at you, hair dripping, jaw clenched, chest rising fast.

> “You’re so fucking sexy like this,” he groaned. “God—look at you.”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucked harder—and he lost it. One hand tangled in your wet hair, guiding you, not rough but needy.

> “I’m close,” he gasped. “Let me come in your mouth. Let me—fuck—”

You moaned around him as he spilled down your throat, hips stuttering, hand gripping your hair like a lifeline.

When he finally opened his eyes again, you were rinsing your mouth under the stream, eyes soft, cheeks flushed, water running down your back.

He pulled you into his arms, kissed you long and sweet.

> “Okay,” he whispered against your lips, still breathless. “Now I’ll order dinner.”

You laughed—soft and hazy—and leaned your forehead against his chest.

> “If the delivery guy comes while we’re still naked, I’m blaming you.”

“Worth it,” he said without hesitation.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Only for you.”

By the time you’d dried off and thrown on one of Johnny’s oversized black t-shirts, your body was officially limp. You padded barefoot into the living room, freshly clean, skin humming with the aftermath of every way he’d touched you tonight.

Johnny followed a few steps behind, his towel slung low on his hips, his hair still damp and curling at the ends. The same look in his eyes—hungry, protective, devoted.

He paused to grab his phone and check the food order.

> “Delivery guy’s five minutes away,” he said, glancing up. “You still alive?”

You collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic groan.

> “Barely. You drained me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You flipped him off weakly, and he just laughed—that deep, sparkly Johnny laugh, the one that always made your insides melt. He leaned over the back of the couch and pressed a kiss to your temple, then disappeared into the bedroom to pull on sweatpants.

By the time the food arrived, you were wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, and Johnny handled everything—the door, the plates, the drinks. He even remembered the dipping sauce you liked without asking.

> “Look at you being a whole husband,” you teased, accepting a fork.

“It’s part of the boyfriend package,” he said with a wink. “Sex, showers, food. All-inclusive.”

You ate curled into his side, legs stretched across his lap, his hand stroking small circles on your bare thigh. Between bites and soft laughter, you kept glancing up at him—at the soft curve of his smile, the way his dimple peeked when he chewed, how careful he was to tuck your hair behind your ear when it fell into your face.

He’d ruined you. And not just in a hot guy who wrecks you on a kitchen counter way. In a deep, slow-burning, no-one-else-compares kind of way.

> “You’re staring,” he said, catching your gaze.

“So?”

“You’re lucky I don’t pounce on you again right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

But his smirk softened. His hand slid from your thigh to your hand, fingers interlocking with a quiet reverence. You felt him take a deep breath—like there was something weighty on his tongue.

> “Hey.” His thumb brushed your knuckle. “You know I love you, right?”

Your heart thudded.

Not from surprise. You knew he did. But hearing it in the quiet glow of his apartment, after everything tonight, while wrapped up in his shirt and blanket and warmth—it hit different.

> “Yeah,” you said, voice quieter. “I know.”

“I just—” He leaned in, kissed your forehead. “I’ve loved you for a while. And after tonight… I just needed to say it.”

You smiled, nudging your nose against his.

> “I love you too, Johnny.”

He didn’t kiss you right away. He just looked at you—like you were something rare and impossible. Like he couldn’t believe he got to have you.

Then he kissed you slow. Tender. Final.

Later, after the dishes were stacked in the sink and the lights were dimmed, you curled up in his bed, limbs tangled, skin clean and warm, heart full.

He spooned you from behind, one arm locked tight around your waist, his lips resting on the back of your neck.

> “Hey,” he murmured sleepily.

“Yeah?”

“Next time… we try the dining table.”

You laughed softly, reaching down to hold his hand.

> “You’re obsessed.”

“With you,” he said, and kissed your shoulder.

Sleep took you both, wrapped in each other’s scent, the leftover steam of love still clinging to the sheets.

[springseasonie]

Confession | LMH (M)

Best friend Mark x fem reader

Summary: you look beautiful and the time feels right, so he decides to confess.

Warnings: sexual content, big dick mark, unprotected sex, he's in love with you, he's also a bit of a freak, proofread (kinda)

Word count: 1,6k

Song recs: juno by Sabrina Carpenter

A/N: I wrote this on a whim bc I miss him and and need him in the least biblical way possible. Enjoy

"can I tell you something?" His breathy whisper tickled your ear, giving you goosebumps all over. Marks hands roamed your sides, his firm fingers pressing into your skin as you listen to his shaky breathing.

“tell me.”

“I really like you.” His lips press against your ear lobe, heat spreading in the lower parts of your body. His chest is pressed against yours, hearts beating in unison as he kisses the back of your ear down your neck. “I love you actually.”

“You love me?”

Mark doesn’t know if it was the alcohol that bought on this confession or maybe the fact that you just looked especially good that night. But it clearly didn’t matter, especially when your face was so close to his. You can’t keep focus, not knowing whether to look at his eyes or lips and he quickly too notice, simply making the decision for you.

His lips melt into yours, the calm sound of his heavy breathing and the fire place cracking making your stomach flutter. Mark moves his hands to your hips, pressing your pelvis against his. His lips tie into yours almost too perfectly like it's meant to be, tongue smoothly sliding into your mouth naturally.

“I need you,” you whine softly.”

Mark nods, quickly taking off his suit jacket and throwing it on the couch behind him. Your hands fly to his chest, tugging at his tie pulling it off. Mark pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead on yours. His eyes light up watching you unbutton his shirt, brows scrunched in a desperate attempt to get it off.

He cracks a smile feeling your hands run up his body right to back of his neck, pulling him in for another deep kiss while your fingers tangle in his hair. Mark sneaks his hands around you, resting his large palms on your ass. He can’t help himself, the feeling of your plush ass drives him insane. You whine feeling him squeeze you, making him damn near rock hard, and you can feel it. You can feel how hard he is for you, and you want it so badly.

Marks fingertips bunch your dress in his hands, fisting the fabric as he kisses you. “I want you to touch me baby,” he says softly.

That was all you needed, immediately shoving the man on the couch behind you. Mark fell with grace, his light brown hair coving his face in the most elegant way possible. The fire lot his face, his pretty brown eyes looking at you. Mark watches you bunch your dress at your hips, climbing on him to straddle his lap. He can’t keep his hands to himself, immediately pushing the fabric up your legs, gripping your thick thighs.

“fuck,” you sigh. He looks like a dream under you. The way the light from behind flickers against his features does wonders for you. You can’t hold back, wishing for this moment for a long time. Mark doesn’t stop you from unbuckling his belt and undoing his dress pants that are a little too big for him.

The silence is comforting, nothing but the sound of your shaky breath as you palm his hard cock through his boxers. You pump him slowly through the fabric, watching his face twist in pleasure.

“yes baby just like that,” he sighs in pleasure.

You could watch him all day if you could, but you can’t, not when you’re dying to feel him stretch you open. “do you have any condoms?”

Mark gulps, shaking his head. He thought you’d be completely turned off, but his lips parted when you reached into his boxers, soft hands wrapping around his shaft. Mark watches you pull him out the fabric, nearly moaning seeing the size of him.

“fuck I’ve waited so long for this,” you whisper. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, the way you pulled up your dress revealing that you were in fact not wearing anything underneath. Your breathing was erratic, too excited to see the way the man looked at you while your lifted your hips, pressing his tip to your pussy.

A gasp leaves your lips, brows furrowed as you sink down on his cock. His hands are on your back and hip, gripping the fabric of your dress as he watches himself disappear inside you. Your body is hot, not only from the fireplace but from the way he’s looking at you.

“that’s it baby, deep breaths,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles on your thigh.

“you’re so big,” you whine softly. You press your hips down more, hands flying to his shoulders feeling him move deeper in you. He’s so overwhelming, but you can’t stop yourself from grinding, your body moving on Its own. “Fuck,” your whimper softly.

Marks grips your dress, pushing it further up your body. His breathing increases, heart shooting out of his chest as he watches you use him to pleasure yourself. You look so pretty in your formal attire, hair done, makeup done, wearing the necklace he bought for you. Your lips part, soft moans spilling as you moved your hips.

“God, I love you so much.” Mark tilts your chin down, kissing you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth. Your hips moved faster, moans falling into your mouth as he gripped your thigh tight. The kiss was hot and wet, both of your mouths absorbing the sinister sounds of pleasure. Mark pulls away from the kiss, your heavy panting becoming all the more noticeable.

“Just like that baby, you’re so good for me.”

Your body completely melted into his, hands gripping his shoulders tight. Mark loves the way your necklace falls into his face, you biting your lip softly as you ride him faster. Your whines turn into whimpers and moans, shaky sounds escaping your mouth just like he always wanted.

“Mark…oh my god.”

You’re so blinded by pleasure, you cant even tell when his thumb ended up in your mouth. Your plump lips wrapped around the digit, brows furrowed as you stared into his eyes. The man pulls his thumb out your mouth, saliva still connecting the two of you together.

“I love you so much,” he moans, other hand gripping your hip. “All mine, right?”

You nod fast, feeling yourself get even more turned on. You clench around him, hands trembling on his shoulders. “I-I’m so close mark,” you moan.

“You’re gonna cum on my cock? Like a good girl?” Mark holds your hips, thrusting into you like his life depended on it. Body hot, sweat on his brow while pleasures you. You tried to be quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to the room, but you just can’t control yourself anymore. He feels so good inside you, like he’s made for you.

“yes, yes. I’m your good girl..”

Mark keeps fucking you, his grunts and moans sounding like music to your ears. He wants to keep going forever, but that feeling starts brewing in his stomach. He’s so close he might explode if you squeeze around him one more time. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” he moans. Mark tries to lift you off his lap, but you remove his hands.

You say nothing when you push his body deeper into the couch and start riding him like there’s no tomorrow. Whines and whispers escape from both of your lips, the feeling of an orgasm so close you could taste it. You kiss him, tongue immediately going down his throat and he enjoys it, moaning into your mouth.

That’s when you feel it, the right ball in your stomach becoming undone, clenching around him nice and tight as you break the kiss, high pitch sounds bouncing off the walls and into his ears. Mark follows immediately after, cumming deep inside your tight cunt with his jaw dropping at the feeling.

You collapse on his body having completely sweating out your hair, dress, and makeup. You don’t have to look into a mirror to know your look a mess. Lipstick everywhere, sweat fucking up your makeup, dress wrinkled to an unrecognizable degree. Mark doesn’t look any better. His shirt is half way off, hair all over the place and now his once perfectly ironed slacks are wrinkled.

“Holy fuck,” you huff out, still trying to catch your breath. Mark looks up at you, brows raised with a pretty smile on his face. “Can’t believe we just did that.”

“it was bound to happen.” Mark’s eyes light up when you giggle. “I’m so in love with you.”

Regardless of the fact that you just had sex with him, you still can’t handle how mushy and romantic he is, his words making your flustered. Mark knows you can handle it, so without letting you respond, he kisses you. Lips molding with yours, his tongue on yours tasting you. It feels like you’re the only people in the world, the way he grips your waist, pulling your body closer to him.

Both of you know you cant stay in this room, but you don’t protest when he caresses your face, thumb on your lip pulling your mouth open along with your tongue. The man licks up your tongue slowly, drawing a breathy moan you. He wraps his lips around the wet muscle, sucking it softly making you clench around his no semi hard cock that’s still inside you. You fell him thrust into you softly, but you can’t let him knowing you want to.

“wait,” you say breathlessly, pulling away from his lips. “we-we can’t stay here.”

“we can if you wanna go for round two.”

You look at him, biting your lip softly. “you don’t think we’ll get in trouble?”

“I don’t care about getting in trouble.”

Against your better intuition, your lips lock with his once again, his hands all over your body continuing his confession for the rest of the night.

[afullsunbirthedme06]

The Quiet Ones hit harder

pairing: nerd!rude!jeno x player!fem!reader

synopsis: y/n teases Jeno, the quiet, always serious nerd, during a chemistry study session that she begged for to have with him cause she was failing. She starts getting bored and thought she could lead him on to have some fun together like she does with every boy. That should be easy right? Men stay men. They wouldn't say no if such an attractive, hot girl asked to play around a bit. But that isn't the case for Jeno though.

genre: suggestive, angst(?) , dark romance, smut (18+ mdni!!!!)

warning: cursing, insults, toxicness, sexual tension, manipulation, name-calling ( slut, whore..), harsh behaviour. jeno doesn't give a fuck about y/n he only feels pity for her, masturbation(f).

The soft buzz of light pouring in from the window fills the room — an otherwise calm and empty classroom that suddenly feels alive with tension. You were staring down at your chemistry textbook, and in front of you sat Lee Jeno, the infamous nerd of your class.

You might ask yourself: Why the hell are the quiet, reserved Lee Jeno and Y/N — the loud, popular, stunning player of the school — alone together in a classroom?

Well, let’s just say Y/N practically forced Jeno to help her with chemistry. After two weeks of nonstop begging, texting (only to be left on seen or delivered), calling and hearing nothing but voicemail — he finally gave in. Out of pity.

She’s been failing all semester. Repeating her year, even. That’s how she ended up in the same class as Jeno in the first place.

Again.

He was explaining something about covalent bonds, sharp and precise like always — but his lips moved in a way that made your stomach twist. And God, that too-tight uniform shirt, thank God it was hot today and he removed his jacket, the school uniform didn't have sleeves, ..to show his veins… You were losing focus fast.

Her leg brushed his under the table.

He ignored it.

Y/n leaned forward, chin resting in your hand, eyes dragging up and down his face. "You’re actually really cute, Jeno," you said, voice light, teasing. "Like, seriously... if you didn’t act like a robot, you could pull so many girls."

His pencil froze mid-sentence.

He slowly turned his head to look at her — and for a second, y/n swore something in his eyes shifted. Not surprised. Not flustered.

Irritated.

“You think that’s what I want?” he said bluntly. “Random girls? Like you?”

Y/n smirked. "Ouch."

And yet... he stood up. Walked around the desk, closer. Slowly. Like a storm about to hit.

Y/n looked up at him from your seat, heart ticking faster.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said quietly. “You act like you’re in control. But I’ve seen girls like you. You throw yourself at anyone who gives you two seconds. And when they don’t…” He paused. "You push harder."

Y/N stood too. Close now. Chest to chest.

“Maybe I just like a challenge,” she whispered.

He tilted his head slightly. Studying her.

And then — he kissed her.

Hard.

His hand fisted your hair, the other gripping your waist like he was punishing you for trying. His mouth crushed against yours with zero hesitation, all teeth and frustration. There was nothing gentle about it. Nothing sweet. Just pressure and heat and power.

You moaned into it.

Your knees buckled. His body caught yours. For a second, you thought maybe — maybe — he wanted this too.

And then — he pulled back.

You were dazed, lips swollen, breathless.

But Jeno?

Jeno didn’t even blink.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Looked at you like something dirty under his shoe.

“That’s all it takes, huh?” he said coldly. “A few words, and you’re begging to be touched.”

Your smile faded.

“You think I kissed you because I wanted to?” He let out a breath that was almost a laugh — but not the kind that warms her. It was cruel. “I kissed you because I knew you’d fall apart.”

Her chest tightened.

“You’re disgusting,” he muttered. “You’ll spread your legs like a whore for anything that looks your way, and then you pretend it means something.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Pathetic,” he spat. “You cling to people who don’t even know your name just to feel something like a slut. Get a life.”

Then he turned, without a second glance, and walked out.

The classroom door slammed behind him.

Silence.

She stood frozen, heart hammering in her throat. His voice still echoing in her ears.

Disgusting. Pathetic.

Her hands trembled.

And yet...

A slow laugh escaped your lips.

She wiped your mouth, lips still tingling.

“That asshole,” she whispered, smiling to herself. “I fucking need him.”

Later that night

The clinking of dishes, the hum of her mom talking about something mundane — Y/N barely heard any of it.

She sat at the dinner table, nodding occasionally, chewing like a robot. Her body was there. Her mind wasn’t.

Not since the classroom.

Not since him.

“Did you see your grades yet?” her mom asked.

“No,” she lied, pushing food around her plate. “I’ve been… busy.”

Her mom kept talking, but her voice faded into white noise.

Jeno’s voice was louder in her head.

Pathetic. You’ll fall apart for anyone who touches you. Get a life.

God.

Her breath caught.

She didn’t stay long at the table. She mumbled something about being tired and went straight to the bathroom. The second the warm water hit her skin, she shut her eyes tight — hoping to wash it off.

But it didn’t work.

She could still feel his hand in her hair. His lips on hers. The way his body pinned her like she was nothing. And everything.

She dried off quickly, barely aware of the towel in her hands. Threw on a tight shirt, short shorts, and climbed into bed — but sleep was the last thing on her mind.

The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of her phone screen. She scrolled, but every notification felt empty.

Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

She pulled the covers over her, legs curling up as if to contain the tension flooding her body. Her mind raced.

The kiss. The heat. His eyes. The way he didn’t care.

And it made her stomach twist. It made her breath hitch.

He didn’t even like her. He found her disgusting.

And yet... she wanted more.

She clenched her jaw, whispering his name under her breath like a curse.

“Fuck, Lee Jeno,” she hissed, covering her face with her arm.

Her body was still aching. Still burning. And it wasn’t going to stop.

Not until she saw him again.

Her sheets were too warm. Or maybe it was her.

Y/N rolled over for the third time, staring at the ceiling like it held some kind of answer. But her body wouldn’t calm down. Her legs refused to stay still. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve wired and awake — all because of one person.

Jeno.

She groaned, dragging her fingers through her hair in frustration. The moment kept replaying — not just the kiss, but the coldness. The insult. The way he had looked at her like she wasn’t even worth his attention.

It should’ve hurt.

It did.

But it also left something inside her aching. Pulling tight. Throbbing in the pit of her stomach, low and relentless.

She clenched her thighs together.

Still not enough.

He hates me. He really, really hates me. And yet... he kissed her like he wanted to devour her.

That kiss. It wasn’t sweet or fake. It was raw. Angry. Possessive.

Y/N could still feel the grip of his hand on her waist. The taste of him.

She buried her face into the pillow, panting softly, heart racing with every image that flickered through her head.

The ache between her legs turned into something unbearable.

She whispered his name like it was the only thing keeping her tethered.

"Fuck..." she exhaled, breathless. "Lee Jeno."

She took her hand and placed it close to her core, soflty carresing the place first, and then slipping her hand in her like shorts meeting her clit and rubbing on it, with only one thing in mind. Lee fucking Jeno.

Her breathing picked up. Chest rising. Her eyes shut tight.

She kept rubbing and rubbing, feeling herself get super sensitive, with a soft sigh, she began—her finger finding it's way in. Pushing her fingers so deep inside. It's just went in sooo easily, that's how wet she was. Going from slow to very fast. Her entire body jolted. She was trembling.

Oh, how she wished that Jeno was the one having his fingers deeeppp into her and not herself. She needs him so bad.

She placed her other hand on her mouth so she wouldn't make noise for her mom, hips rolling up to meet her fingers more, to get more friction, even when it was too much — especially when it was too much.

She does this often though, but today she felt more sensitive then usual.

Just because she was thinking of him. Imagining that her fingers were his. While he was hurling every cruel name he could think of…

Her release snuck up on her this time — soft and overwhelming, like a wave crashing in slow motion.

Her body pulsed. Her mind unraveled.

No boy had ever made her feel this way. Not from a kiss. Not from a rejection. Not from a single word.

And now?

Now, she was ruined.

Hope you liked this!!! Again i'm not very good with smutty stuff, but i hope this is good for you guys!!! Let me know if u guys want a part 2 maybeee?????

[taexoxosgf]

LEE JENO FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst

everyone in heat after tds3. everyone is me. > lots are from my old recs so it’s extra long!

recommendation masterlist

rich purity [ virgin!jeno x fem!reader ] [ fwb, university au ] s,f,a

fight club [ fighter!jeno x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s,f

in your eyes, part two [ player!jeno x fem!reader, college au ] s,f,a

summer love [ brothers bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] [ 90's summer au ] f

the antics [ model!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

pride & prejudice. [ pride and prejudice!jeno x afab!reader ] s,f,a

netflix and chill [ jeno x fem!reader ] [ college au, strangers to lovers ] s,f

two photos, two kisses [ one night stand to lovers au ] s,f,a

impaled [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader x roommate!haechan ] [frat/soccer au] s

reel [ friend group camping trip au ] s,f

i suddenly realize my archnemisis is hot (during a battle to the death). [ son of ares!jeno x daughter of nike!reader ] f,a

summer hair = forever young [ strangers to lovers, summer fling au ] s,f,a

my first and last [ campus heartbreaker!jeno x fem!reader, friends to lovers au ] s,f,a

premium boy-toy [ stripper!jeno x fem!reader ] s

the walls are thin [ roommate!jeno x fem!reader x roommate!jaemin } s

promiscuous [ established relationship, jeno x ex-stripper!reader ] s

hush, hush. [ jeno, haechaen, jaemin x fem!reader ] s

wicked games [ enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a

sugar daddy galore! [ sugardaddy jeno & jaemin x fem!reader ] s

wanna know what it's like [ alt!jeno x fem!reader ] [ fwb au ] s,f

someone with secrets [ jeno x fem!reader ] [ classroom au ] s

open the gates, let me in [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] ft. haechan and jaemin f

shameless [ step-son x step-mom reader ] s

step on a crack, dr. lee’s gonna break your back! [ chiropractor!jeno x fem!reader ] s

the perks of having a hot best friend [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] f,a

only for me [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

scream [ halloween party au, frat party au ] s

fuck around and find out [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

bet! [ bestfriends to lovers au, college au ] f,a

sizing it up [ boyfriend jeno x reader ] s

summer heat and summer swim [ established relationship, pool day au ] s,f

brother's bestfriend!lee jeno x reader [ brother's best friend!jeno ] s

the boy next door [ neighbor!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

be careful what you wish for [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

get smart [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

take my breath [ alpha!jeno x fem omega!reader ] s

[baebiii]

Jung Yoonah, professionally known as Baebi, has had her fair share of love affairs. Some short, some long, some life-altering, some not even worth noting, and some making it to the public eye. Let's review a few of her most notable lovers.

DID YOU SERIOUSLY FELL IN LOVE WITH A DJ ?!

Meeting while they trained under SM Entertainment, Johnny Suh and Jung Yoonah became almost instantaneous friends when they met in 2012. Yoonah was enthralled by Johnny's Americanness, insisting he teach her English, which he agreed to do if she helped him clean up his dancing. Together, they became "the most unbearable duo in SMRookies" but would garner a fanbase due to their chemistry on and off-screen.

Yoonah would leave SM in 2017, shortly after Johnny's debut in NCT 127, signing to an unknown label in hopes of debuting there. Despite working under different companies, the pair remained close and in contact daily despite their hectic schedules. "Talking to Yoonah was just so easy," Johnny would go on to say during an interview with Vogue, "She'd always be there when I needed her and tell me what I needed to hear, not just what I wanted to hear. I always enjoyed talking to her."

They were the typical case of friends turned to lovers, truly. They would begin dating officially in 2018 after kissing in Yoonah's living room during a drunk game of truth or dare. "It was like a cheesy rom-com," Yoonah told Vogue with an all-consuming smile on her face. "After we kissed the first time, mentally I was like, 'Okay, this can't be a one-time thing." Then I see him leaning in again, and I knew we were locked in."

The pair dated privately for two years until they were outted by Dispatch in 2020. Their reveal wouldn't shock fans as it had been speculated for years that they had been dating. Truthfully, the news of Johnny and Yoonah dating would be met with mostly positive responses, though a few sasaengs would threaten and stalk Yoonah, but this did little to the couple's relationship.

JOHNNY & YOONAH TAKEN BY DISPATCH, 2020.

This would be Yoonah's first public relationship and her first relationship overall, as she had always been too busy chasing her dream of being an idol to really focus on dating. She and Johnny were very serious, to the point that they moved in together in 2021. Everyone, fans included, was just waiting for the wedding announcement.

Instead, on March 2nd, 2022, fans were rocked with the headline "Kpop's favorite couple splits after four years together," with no further details given besides the pair had split and would remain friends.

Though they claimed to remain friends, Yoonah and Johnny haven't spoken in 3 years unless one of them is drunk, usually Yoonah, but neither counts those conversations as Yoonah never remembers them in the morning. The true reason for their split depends on who you ask. Yoonah will say it's because she wanted to settle down and start a family while Johnny wasn't ready for it all. Johnny will tell you it's because their careers were too consuming, and they didn't have time for each other. They seemed to have lost each other in the end.

Tragic.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE A HOMIE HOPPER...

Oh...Jung Jaehyun.

Fresh out of what she thought was her one and only relationship, the only reasonable thing for Yoonah to do was to obviously sleep with her and Johnny's mutual friend, Jung Jaehyun. Duh.

Truly, Jaehyun didn't do much for Yoonah to become so attached to him. He was just who he had always been, but with the addition of laying good pipe. Yoonah was obsessed, while Jaehyun was just...there. He liked Yoonah, and still does, but he knew there was no actual future with her outside of their friends-with-benefits situation.

Yoonah, however, didn't see it that way at first. No, this man would eventually be her boyfriend, and she would make sure of it. Many say being around Yoonah at this time was unbearable due to her infatuation with Jaehyun. That's all she was about: Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun. Her friends couldn't stand it, and to a degree, neither could Jaehyun, but he also liked the attention she was always willing to give him.

The thing with Yoonah and Jaehyun is...They never really stopped. They're still in contact today, with Yoonah being one of the people who sent Jaehyun off to the military. The pair remain close friends who hook up from time to time.

Obviously, her romantic infatuation with him dwindled over time, but that doesn't mean Yoonah can't state the obvious: Jaehyun is hot. She's hot. She likes hooking up with him. He likes hooking up with her. Sometimes, they have really great conversations about music together. They were meant to find each other, in her opinion.

THE LIFE ALTERING WLW RELATION/SITUATIONSHIP.

Roseanne Park changed Yoonah's life. For better or worse, she doesn't know, but she knows she was never the same after her year as Rosie's...girlfriend?

To this day, neither Rose nor Yoonah knows what to call their relationship. They met in 2019 shortly after Yoonah's debut and became instant friends, but there was always something between them. They'd stare at each other too long, Yoonah's heart would flutter as Rose smiled, and they'd hold hands even when they didn't need to. Everything about their friendship differed from Yoonah's typical friendships with other women.

Rose would be the first person Yoonah would turn to after her breakup with Johnny, crying on her shoulder about how her life was ruined and how she'd never find love like that again. Rose would tirelessly do anything to keep Yoonah's mind off the breakup. Dates, concerts, trips to Paris together, cat cafes- these girls were inseparable, and Yoonah was genuinely happy.

Then, the shift happened.

Similarily to how her and Johnny fell together, one night in Yoonah's dim living room with her head on Rose's shoulder they would lock eyes for a bit too long. Without even thinking, Yoonah would lean in and kiss her, something she knew she always wanted to do but could never find the courage to do so until now. After that, well, it got a little confusing. They'd say they were girlfriends, but Yoonah would still regularly hook-up with Jaehyun. They'd say they were girlfriends, but Rose would go days without texting Yoonah because she was with 'her other friends.' They'd say they were girlfriends, but they'd go weeks without seeing each other. Neither one of them knew what was going on, but it didn't really matter because when they were together things were great.

Until they weren't.

ARCHIEVED YOOSIE POSTS FROM YOONAH'S INSTAGRAM, 2022.

Like every great romance, things just...fizzled out despite Yoonah's attempt to keep the spark alive. She was desperate in the final months of her and Rose's relationship, practically begging for them to stay together until she finally let the inevitable happen. The pair never officially broke up, just like how they never officially got together, but fans were quick to notice how the "girlfriend posts" between them stopped.

Rosie and Yoonah haven't spoken since 2023. Yoonah misses her occasionally.

GIRL YOU DIDN'T...

No one was supposed to know about her and Jung Hoseok.

Listen, it happened on a whim. A chance, you could say, it was never supposed to happen in Yoonah's opinion, but it did, and, truthfully, she'd do it again.

Yoonah and Hoseok would meet numerous times at music shows and award shows, cultivating a small yet dedicated fanbase of shippers who enjoyed their quirky yet sweet interactions together. With this in mind, on a boring night in 2024, Yoonah would slide into his DMs, joking and saying, "People seem to like us together haha," not expecting a response; she was just feeling silly! To her surprise, however, Hoseok would respond within a minute, saying, "They have good taste lol" and the rest? History.

The pair would begin hooking up casually a week later, going on dates and whatnot, growing closer and closer every time they hung out. They meshed better than Yoonah expected. She'd considered Hoseok one of her closest friends by the end of the same month they met.

3 OF THE 300+ LEAKED PHOTOS FROM YOONAH'S ICLOUD (HOSEOK VERS), 2024 VIA TWITTER.

Then the photos hit Twitter and it was like a nuke went off.

Someone, speculated to be a Johnny sasaeng who just couldn't let Yoonah go, would hack her iCloud and leak over 300 personal photos of Yoonah and her various relationships with taunting messages attached to every post. While the photos of her other relationships caused some buzz, they paled compared to the storm that came with dating a BTS member.

Yoonah's label acted fast, confirming the pair were in a committed relationship with one another to hopefully quell the backlash online. Even though the pair weren't officially together, Hoseok would agree to this, publicly claiming Yoonah as his girlfriend and asking his fans to be kind towards her and respect their privacy.

After the public statements were released, backlash seemed to cool down, but they were suddenly K-pop's it couple. Both of their labels would take advantage of this opportunity, having the pair pose for magazines together, go to events together, and even release a song together. Hoseok and Yoonah were adored and hated by the masses. It was great.

Except none of it was real.

Yoonah and Hoseok's relationship would quickly deteriorate after their promotional run for their duet song 'SPOT' would finish. The relationship, which wasn't even supposed to be a relationship, had run its course, but they were stuck together for business reasons. Their labels would allow them to publicly break up in late 2024 after six months of publicly dating.

They still interact on social media and greet each other fondly at events.

ANOTHER RAPPER?!

She's got a type, okay?

Song Mingi is Yoonah's current "boyfriend." They haven't yet put a label on it, as the story typically goes for Yoonah. She met Mingi at Coachella last year, where they would subsequently hook up in an LA hotel and remain in contact ever since. What she thought was just a one-time fling turned into a friendship that she never saw coming.

Truthfully, Yoonah had no idea who Ateez was before Coachella, but now, she can't imagine a day without talking to Song Mingi. She knows she falls too fast, which is why she's trying to take it slow with Mingi, though slow has never really been Yoonah's style.

For now, it's casual.

THE SITUATIONSHIPS

Oh brother, does this girl love a situationship.

Listen, if I got into all the situationships / hookups Jung Yoonah has had since her breakup with Johnny this post would be a billion words long.

Curious about if Yoonah has hooked up with your fave? Send an ❣️+ an idol's name to get all the dirt on their possible situationship !

[su11yoon]

RENJUNS IS SO FUNNY WHAT

attitude now walk off

bf!dreamies when you accidentally make them jealous

an; i hate this...so out of character for me...if i don't make everything silly i feel like im going to DIE!

an2; requested! sorry for this underwhelming post anon idk what came over me

masterlist

[ihatefrvits]

practice makes perfect

bestfriend jisung x reader

genre: smut 18+, fluff (if you squint)

wc: 6.05k

synopsis: you have a crush on jaehyun whos a year above you in college, but you’re so inexperienced it makes you think that he will never look at you. so who will help you if not your best friend?

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

you didn’t want to ask jisung for help. in fact, you were avoiding it, trying to find other ways, because it was insane and he was your best friend since childhood.

and asking your best friend to help you learn how to kiss so you didn’t screw it up with your silly little crush? yeah, that was the craziest thing you ever were about to do.

“hey, sung,” you start, trying to sound casual but failing as your voice cracks mid sentence.

jisung glances up briefly, raising an eyebrow. “what’s up?”

you hesitate, chewing on your hoodie string as your palms grow sweaty. why is this so hard? you can’t even ask him a simple question?

“uh, so…” you trail off, your voice dropping as you struggle to get the words out. “hypothetically speaking… if someone wanted to, like… learn how to do something… how would they, uh, go about it?”

jisung stares at you for a moment, blinking in confusion. “you gotta narrow that down for me, y/n. what are we talking about? gaming? cooking? math?”

“oh my god, no,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. this was already so much worse than you imagined.

“relax, relax,” he says, setting his phone down, which made you peek at him through your fingers. “what’s going on?”

you take a deep breath, you kept reminding yourself, if you didn’t just say it, you would never going to get through this.

“i… kind of have a crush on jaehyun.” you admit quickly, the words tumbling out as if you were rushing.

jisungs brows shoot up, and for a split second, something unreadable flickers across his face before his expression turns into something neutral. “uh, okay. and?”

“and… i want him to notice me,” you continue, heat rising to your face. “but i don’t know what i’m doing. i mean, he’s cool, and experienced, and i’m just…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at yourself.

jisung tilts his head, his lips pressing into a slight frown. “you’re just what?”

“a loser, jisung,” you groan, slumping forward dramatically. “i’ve never even kissed anyone, and what if he finds out and thinks i’m, like, a lost cause?”

jisung opens his mouth, probably to argue against the whole “loser” thing, but you cut him off, too embarrassed.

“so, i was thinking…” you pause, glancing at him nervously. “maybe you could, um, help me.”

“help you?” he repeats, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“yeah. like, practice?” you wave your hands vaguely, trying to look like you haven’t been agonizing over this for days. “y’know… kissing.”

jisung stares at you like you’ve just sprouted a second head.

you don't think you ever were this embarrassed before. you had always hung out in your best friends room, but the reason behind this visit had made you want the ground to swallow you whole.

your voice felt shaky as it cut through the silence of jisungs bedroom. "i just think it'd be better if i... y'know... knew what i was doing. i can't ask jaehyun to... y'know, like—" you swallowed as you tried to not repeat the words again. your face heated up at the thought of finishing the sentence, "to teach me how to kiss if we ever do it."

jisung, sitting on his gaming chair, nervously fiddled with his hoodie string. he moved his head in a way that made his messy black hair flop into his eyes to avoid looking directly at you. "are you, like, actually being serious right now?"

"very serious." you said with a poor attempt of trying to sound confident, but the way your voice was wobbly instantly gave you away, which only made him blink in irritation. "i-i mean, i can't... i don't want to fuck up if he–"

you closed your mouth, hesitating as you clutched one of his pillows tighter to your chest, sitting on the edge of his bed. talking to him was always easy for you, since he understood you in ways no one else could. but sometimes his ability to read you made things worse, as he was making you aware of how much of a loser you actually were.

after he sensed that you weren't completing your sentence, he tilted his head and exhaled hard. "so, if i understand correctly," he rested his chin on the back of his hand. “you want me to help you practice… for some guy? jeong jaehyun specifically?”

you squirmed. his delivery made it sound as stupid as it was. in fact, this made no sense. who asks their best friend for— gosh.

you were already too deep in to start laughing and tell him it was a joke and he was silly for falling for it, and his slightly wide eyes made it seem like he wasn’t totally opposed to this idea (which mattered way more than it should’ve).

“um… yeah,” you croaked. jisung ran a hand through his hair like he was suddenly going to come up with an excuse, but something in his eyes, the awkward confidence, tipped you off. he never really refused your offer.

“i know you never make good decisions, but this is seriously the worst idea you have ever had in your life,��� he muttered, though you could tell the amusement in his tone. before you processed his reaction, he leaned forward, clasped his hands, and finished his sentence, “but okay.”

your heart skipped a beat, “okay?” you almost stuttered, “like… okay okay?”

“yeah, okay okay.” he huffed and scratched the back of his neck as though he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “i’ll help, but just practice,” his tone was serious, “if it gets weird, we stop. alright?”

you nodded quickly, “alright.”

“and don’t tell anyone about this.” he said, holding up a finger like you were a toddler.

“obviously,” you answered, which only earned you a smirk from him. a smirk that made your stomach flip. why is he suddenly smirking at you?

there is a beat of silence before jisung slides off his chair, kneeling awkwardly in front of you, where you’re perched on his bed. his height still towers over you a bit, but the soft flush creeping up his neck made you realise you weren’t the only one that was nervous.

“um… you want to start now?” he asked quietly, as if he was shy. you nodded again, your mouth running faster than your brain, “unless you’re scared of me or something.”

“y/n,” he groaned like he wanted to pull his hair out, “why are you making things harder than they should be?”

despite his words, his laugh was gentle, and maybe even fond. you bite your lip as he carefully shifts closer until your knees bump against him.

“you’re sure about this, right?” he whispers, and when you nod, he leans forward slowly, like he’s scared to startle you.

his plump lips brush yours gently at first, as if he’s giving you time to back out. his hand awkwardly lingers in the air near your shoulder, before settling there. you can barely think straight, you would’ve never thought that jisung, nerdy and awkward, would’ve been this careful and soft. you clutch onto him and his breath hitches which only makes your face burn ever more.

“just practice,” he whispers as his lips meet yours in hesitation. as you deepen the kiss, it doesn’t really feel like practicing.

he pulls back and rests his forehead on yours. you could feel his warm breath against your lips. he quickly opens his eyes, nervously trying to read you, as if he was trying to figure out if you regret it, or if he should stop.

you don’t say a word, you’re too shocked from the fact that you’re enjoying this, considering that heat was pooling in your lower stomach.

“y/n,” he whispers so quietly that it almost got swallowed by the tense air in the room. it took all your courage to swallow and look back up at him, “was that okay?” you whisper, and you feel your cheeks get red because of how nervous you sounded.

his lips twitched, which you realised was an effort to give you a reassuring smile, “yeah” he says, then he lets out a small laugh, glancing to the side to avoid eye contact, “it was more than okay.”

you blink in surprise, and then open your mouth to say something, but you can’t form words, “really?” you finally blurt something out.

you noticed his ears turn red as he retreated. “i mean, not that i do this often, i just— um… you’re—“ his voice disappears into thin air as he slides his hand up to scratch his head in embarrassment.

you would’ve chuckled and called him cute if it didn’t plant a fucked up idea in your head, the type of idea that you’re half shy to say out loud.

but once again, your mouth works faster than your brain, “should we keep going?” you blurt it out, and before you process what you said, jisung freezes.

his mouth opens and closes, but there’s no words coming out of him. “it’s not fair if i practice once,” your voice is trembling, “i mean, i have to— i should get used to, like, more….i need— i’m gonna mess up with jaehyun if i—“

“okay, stop.” jisung cuts you off suddenly, his hands coming up as he was surrendering, “i get it.”

your stomach drops at the look on his face until he settles back on his knees, leaning forward again. “we will go slow, and if you feel too overwhelmed,” his voice is so low and serious that it makes your throat tighten. “we will stop immediately, no questions.”

you nod nervously. his thumb brushes across your jaw, leaning in closer until his lips meet yours again. his lips part slightly, guiding yours open, which sends a shiver down your spine. you gasp quietly, and the sound might have gotten a reaction out of him, because he slides his hand up your hoodie, not that you don’t enjoy it.

jisungs tongue flickers against your lip in such hesitant and sweet manner that it made you instinctively arch closer and let your knees drift apart slightly. you didn’t think that this tiny shift would change anything.

the hand bracing your cheek falters and before you know it, both of you sink onto his bed, almost deliberately. as the soft mattress hugs your back, he positions himself above you, his eyes darkened.

his lips hover over yours again, “still okay?” he asks, his voice painted in roughness.

“y-yeah,” you whisper, your heart racing so loud that you’re pretty sure he hears it too.

when he kisses you again for the third time, it must be something about the pressure, the position you two are in, or the way he worries so much about you, that unlocks something in you that you never knew existed.

you feel his hand slide down, his fingers trembling as they graze the hem of your hoodie. his hesitation makes your brain almost shut down, and maybe that’s why you let your hand find his wrist and grab it, guiding him beneath the fabric of your clothes.

“y/n,” he groans softly against your lips, his voice being desperate, a sound that you had never expected to hear from… him.

his breath grows unsteady as his fingers slide higher, slightly trembling as they run over the bare skin beneath your hoodie. as this is unfamiliar to you, you wonder if you should say something, maybe a joke to ease the tension, but the moment feels so.. raw. you never felt this close w him before. so you don’t.

instead, you shift your hips slightly, just enough to send a signal to him. the movement makes jisungs face scrunch, as if he was struggling to keep himself together. his forehead dips against your shoulder as his breath brushes ovee your collarbone.

“y/n…” he says in a tone that sends a shiver down your spine. your hand searches for his wrist again, and when you find him, you guide it lower, past your waistband. you feel him freeze, his fingers stiffen up against the elastic, which makes you think that he’s going to pull away.

the bubble of disappointment forming in your mind was popped when you felt him exhale. his touch inches lower, “i don’t…” his voice is barely audible, “i don’t want to mess this up.” you look away, hiding your face from him, “you won’t. just… please?”

that must be enough for him because his fingers immediately slip beneath your underwear, sliding hesitantly across the slick and sensitive skin. the first touch makes you gasp, clutching his hoodie.

“is this okay?” he asks as his fingers explore you in slow and cautious movements.

“yeah,” you answer, your hips slightly jerking at the sensation, “jisung, it’s— yeah.”

his lips graze the side of your neck as his hand continues. his thumb circles around your most sensitive spot, which draws a soft whimper from you. for a second, you feel him freeze, as if he’s stunned by the sound, but he quickly gets back to doing what he was doing.

he shifts slightly, his free hand bracing beside your head as he adjusts his weight. you notice that he somehow got more confident, as his fingers gets braver, now slipping inside you carefully. the stretch is new to you, but it’s comfortable, and it makes your breath hitch.

jisung immediately slows, “is it too much?” he asks, his voice low, but you can feel his hand twitch where it rests against your waist.

you shake your head, pulling him close by the collar of his hoodie. “no, it’s… it feels—“ your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers curl into you, brushing against a spot that makes your whole body tense.

“oh,” jisung breathes, his movements pausing for a second before he adjusts his angle, pressing into that spot again with tentative strokes. “is that— does that feel good?”

“yeah,” you gasp, nodding helplessly. you’re clinging to him as you feel your mind turn foggy, not being able to form a thought, the only thing you can process is the way his fingers feel inside of you.

now that he figured out what you like, his lips brush against yours slowly again as his fingers pick up a rhythm. your legs tremble as the pressure builds. you don’t even notice the desperate noises spilling from your lips until jisung mutters, “baby, you’re so—“

he’s not able to finish his sentence, because your hips arched against his hand instead, he swallows the rest of the sentence in a kiss.

his fingers press deeper, curling just right, and it makes you overwhelmed by the pleasure. the way his face is so close to you, his lips brushing yours, giving you small kisses, it’s almost too romantic.

though, you can tell he’s still hesitating, but the heat pooling low in your stomach makes you want to beg for more. each movement makes you tremble beneath him, clutching on his hoodie like it helps you regain composure, but it still felt like everything else was blurring.

“tell me if i’m… if it’s too much,” he says, his voice soft. his free hand shifts to your waist, his thumb brushing against your cold skin.

“it’s not,” you manage to answer, your mind still foggy. you watch as his brows furrow and his lips part, unsure of what he said.

he shifts his angle slightly, trying something new again, and it feels so good that you bite your lip to stifle a whimper (unsuccessfully). it’s almost like he’s surprised at the way you react, but it doesn’t make him stop. he picks up a faster pace, which draws sounds that you never knew you were capable of making. you can barely think, or even form any thoughts. all you know is how jisung feels, how patient, careful, and focused he is.

he’s watching you attentively, like your every reaction is fascinating, like he wants to memorise what makes you squirm and shake beneath him. “does this feel good?” he stammered.

you nod desperately, gripping his clothes tighter, your body curling as that tight and burning pressure inside you slowly starts building up. “it does,” you gasp, unable to stop the way your hips shift, almost matching his rhythm. “jisung, it— i—“ your eyes roll back in pleasure as you moan his name out.

you don’t realise how close you are until you feel the heat overtaking you completely, the sharp pull in your stomach snapping. you tremble under him, the rush of release washing over you in waves. the way you cry out makes jisung freeze before he slows down, guiding you through it, he somehow knows exactly what to do.

when you finally come down, he stops, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, his face is flushed, his pupils blown wide, but there’s something behind his expression, it’s so soft that it makes your chest ache. you don’t even want to imagine how you look like right now.

you blink up at him, still catching your breath, somehow still managing to smile. “that…” your words trail off, and your face burns hotter than before.

jisung looks down at you his fingers still lightly resting against your skin, “did i do okay?” he asks timidly, as though he’s genuinely unsure, despite the way your body feels like it’s still floating.

you let out a small laugh, nodding as you reach up to cup his cheek. your voice is quieter than you expect when you reply, "yeah, jisung. you did... really okay."

the blush that overtakes his face is so red that it makes you laugh again. he collapses onto the bed next to you with a groan, flopping onto his back. his arm is draped lightly over your stomach, like he can’t quite bring himself to let go completely.

for a minute, neither of you says anything, the only sound in the room being your breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner. your cheeks still feel hot, no, your entire body feels hot, but you can’t stop the small, breathless laugh that bubbles out of you. jisung turns his head, “what’s so funny?”

you glance at him, catching the faint pink on his ears and the way his messy hair sticks up at odd angles. he looks so much like his usual dorky self that you almost forget what just happened. almost.

“i just…” you trail off, biting your lip to hide another laugh before finally giving in. “i can’t believe you used to help me with building sandcastles, but this is what we’re doing now.”

jisung stares at you for a beat, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh too, but then he snorts loudly, the sound bursting out of him before he can stop it.

“oh my god, y/n.” he covers his face with one hand, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “why would you say that?”

“because it’s true!” you answer, grinning now, the tension in your chest unraveling as the laughter overtakes you both. “like… think about it. you used to help me build those stupid towers with the little flags, and now you’ve got your fingers, like—”

“stop, stop, stop,” his voice cracks as he rolls over, burying his face in his pillow. “don’t finish that sentence.”

you’re both laughing so hard now that tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you don’t even care how ridiculous you sound. it’s stupid and awkward and so perfectly the two of you.

jisung finally lifts his head, still grinning like an idiot, and nudges you lightly with his elbow. “okay, but really, sandcastles were way easier. i didn’t have to worry about… ruining anything.” his voice dips at the end, quieter, and you blink at the sudden shift, your laughter fading just a bit.

“you didn’t ruin anything,” you say softly, bumping your shoulder against his. “i mean… i think you were so amazing, actually.”

jisung’s ears turn red again, and he scrambles to sit up, looking everywhere but at you. “don’t say stuff like that,” he mutters, tugging on the strings of his hoodie like they might save him from combusting. “you’re gonna make this weird.”

“weirder than it already is?” you tease, tilting your head with a smirk.

he groans, hiding his face in his hands. “god, i hate you.”

but there’s no edge to his words, and when you sit up too, nudging your knee against his, he glances at you through his fingers with a shy smile.

“i’m serious,” you say quietly. “thank you. for, y’know… helping me.”

jisung drops his hands, his gaze softening. “yeah. of course.” then he grins, all nervous energy again. “but i am never going to be able to look at a sandcastle without losing it now.”

you shove him lightly, laughing again, and he catches your hand before you can pull away, holding onto it. he shifts closer on the bed, his hand still holding yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “so…” his voice is low and nervous, “did the practice, like, actually help?”

you look at him, your cheeks flushing when you realised just how much ‘practice’ you had gone through. “um… yeah” you say nervously while intertwining your fingers with his, “it definitely helped me,”

he smiles a little at your response, but his gaze was flickering on your lips. the way he looks at you makes your heart flutter in ways it shouldn’t.

“…this isn’t practice anymore, is it?” he says quietly as his lips brush yours.

this isn’t about jaehyun anymore. actually, it hasn’t been for a while now. you were fully aware of that, and judging by his words, and actions, he knows it too. “no,” you whisper back, tilting your face up to him, “it’s not.”

the kiss that follows up is different. it’s not hesitant like before, but it perfectly conveys the desperation of you. jisungs hand cups your face as his lips move against yours and he pulls you closer to him. you softly sigh into the kiss and let your hands slide up and tangle in his hair.

his weight shifts, gently easing you down onto the mattress, “baby,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you with his flushed face, “is this okay? like, are you sure about it?”

“yes,” you reply, though your voice was trembling a bit. “it’s okay.”

as you answer, his lips find yours again, his hands start smoothing over your sides and he settles between your thighs. you arch into him as he shifts his hips against yours, the pressure sending pleasure through your entire body.

jisung hesitates for a moment before reaching down to tug at the hem of his hoodie. his hands fumbled slightly as the fabric caught on his wrists, but you didn’t care. all you could do was watch as his pale skin was revealed inch by inch until he pulled the hoodie over his head and let it drop to the floor beside him.

you don’t realise you’re tugging at your own hoodie until his hands shift closer to you to help you with it. as the hoodie slips off your shoulders, he tosses it to the side. he glances at you like he’s about to say something but isn’t sure if he should.

“stop staring at me like that,” your face was burning, you couldn’t even look at him.

“sorry, it’s just…” he pauses, his hand brushing your waist as his hands were slightly trembling, “you’re so… pretty.”

the vulnerability in his voice makes your heartbeat faster than it already was. you’re not even sure how to respond, so instead you reach for him, sliding your hands over his skin.

you arch up slightly, your lips meeting his again in a kiss, and his hands rest on your waist. your hands slide down his chest before moving to the waistband of his sweatpants. you hesitate for a moment, biting your lips as you look up at him for permission. jisung swallows hard, his blush more prominent as he nods. “i mean, if you’re sure,” he says quickly, his voice almost cracking. “i’m sure,” you reassure him.

tugging down at the fabric of his sweatpants was so messy, both of you were fumbling with nervous hands, a quiet giggle breaking through the tension when the elastic got stuck on his knee. “this is nothing like it seems in movies,” jisung says with your laugh following up soon after.

“you’re fine,” you answered, pushing him onto his back so you could help slide the fabric off completely. his boxers remain, for now.

your clothes follow soon after, first your jeans, which jisung awkwardly helped you get out of, and then, with his encouragement, your panties.

there’s a moment of silence as you lay back beneath him. he hovers above you, his lips slightly parted as his eyes undress you once again.

“you’re so… beautiful, y/n,” he says while his gaze stays fixed on you.

“stop,” you mumble, looking away, you don’t want him to see how red your cheeks are.

“i mean it,” he insists, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your collarbone. he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, glancing down at you as if he’s making sure you’re ready.

when you nod, his hands move carefully as he slides the last barrier away. your heart skips a beat when you realise what is about to happen.

he hovers over you again, his hand slipping down to your waist as he shifts closer, positioning himself. “if i, um… if something feels wrong, just tell me,” he whispers, his face not leaving yours, “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you nod, your heart softening at his caring tone, “i will, ji, don’t worry.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again, it’s so slow and sweet, there’s so much affection in it. after letting nervous giggles out, he finally presses in you. he pauses immediately, his face scanning yours as his brows furrow.

“does it hurt?” he asks, his voice containing worry.

it does, a little, but it’s not unbearable, you shake your head quickly, forcing a small smile, “it’s fine, just… go slow?”

he exhales, nodding as he leans in again to press a kiss to your temple, “yeah, slow, okay,” the way he’s so patient and gentle almost breaks you. his hands find yours and laces your fingers together as he moves slowly, giving you time to adjust. every time you tense, or your breath changes, he stops immediately, waiting for your breath to settle before continuing.

"you're doing so good," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "just tell me what you need, okay?"

it's overwhelming in the best way. the soft way he speaks to you, the warmth of his hand squeezing yours when he feels you clench around him, the way his kisses linger against your neck like he's trying to reassure you without words.

"jisung," you say, your voice shaky yet enough to cut through his concentration.

he glances down at you quickly, "what? am i hurting you?”

"no," you say quickly, tightening your grip on his hand. “you’re just… so attractive.”

his face flushes immediately, and he lets out a soft, nervous laugh, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder. "oh my god, don't say that, i’ll mess it all up if you keep saying stuff like that."

"you're not gonna mess anything up," you reply, your free hand sliding into his hair. "you're perfect."

his movements falter for just a moment before he lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours. for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unknown. then, he leans down and kisses you again, but harder this time.

everything about the moment feels impossibly close, his warmth, his voice murmuring your name, the way he doesn't let go of your hand even for a second.

your bodies move together, you're still holding jisungs hand, your fingers gripping his. "you're doing so good," he murmurs again, his voice uneven as he dips his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

the sincerity in his tone makes your chest feel too tight, and you're sure he can feel the way your heartbeat thuds erratically under his touch.

"jisung," you breathe, his name slipping past your lips.

he looks at you, his eyes wide, "i'm here," he whispers, his free hand brushing softly against your waist. "i've got you."

every shift, every deepening stroke sends another wave of heat through you, drawing you closer and closer to a breaking point you didn't realise you were this close to.

his movements grow shakier, his breaths coming in sharp, unsteady bursts against your neck. you can tell he's right there too, holding on just as tightly as you are.

"i can't—“ your voice cuts off into a soft gasp as your body tenses beneath him, your grip on his hand tightening. “jisung, i—“

"it's okay," he says quickly, his words coming out quiet as his own body trembles. "i've got you. just... let go, baby. i'm right here."

his voice is all it takes for you to finish. your whole body tenses, the heat unfurling in an overwhelming wave that leaves you breathless, trembling beneath him. the sounds that escape your lips are ones you've never heard before, they’re so soft and broken.

jisungs movements become less controlled as the tension in his body builds. the little sounds he's making, soft gasps and quiet groans are etched into your memory already, the closeness of it all making your chest tighten.

his lips are on your neck, brushing against your skin in a way that feels comforting, as though he's using you to keep himself grounded. his free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his touch delicate.

"y/n," he whispers, his voice shaking as he presses deeper, his breath hot against your ear. "i’m— god, i can't— where—“

you understand immediately, the frantic edge in his voice mirroring the way your own body still feels like it's vibrating from release.

"it's okay," you whimper, your hands clutching at his shoulders, "you can—“ you pause, your words catching in your throat before you nod softly, pulling him even closer. "inside, jisung. it's okay."

his whole body shudders at your words, and he lets out a soft, broken moan as his rhythm stutters. his grip on your hip tightens slightly, his fingers trembling as his forehead drops to your shoulder.

"are you— are you sure?" he asks, his voice is tight, strained with the effort it's taking him to hold on just a moment longer.

"i'm sure," you whisper, your breath catching as his hips press flush against yours. "it's okay. i want you to."

it must be his breaking point. with one last deep thrust, jisung lets go completely, his body collapsing against yours as he spills inside you. the sounds he makes are low and muffled against your shoulder, his breathing uneven and shallow as his fingers curl into your waist like he's clinging to you for dear life.

you can feel the heat of him inside you, and the realization sends another wave of warmth through your body, leaving you breathless.

for a moment, neither of you move. he’s still holding you, still pressing kisses to your shoulder, and your hand reaches up to run your hand through his messy hair. jisung hasn’t moved much, still pressed close against you as both of you work to catch your breath. his hand rests gently on your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin.

“you good?” he asks softly, tilting his head to glance at you. his cheeks are still flushed, a faint pink lingering on the tips of his ears, and his hair is a mess, but his expression is serious.

“yeah,” you reply, your voice a little hoarse. you manage a small smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “are you good?”

he huffs out a laugh, his lips curling into a grin. “i mean… i think so? unless i, like, accidentally broke you or something.”

you snort, swatting his shoulder lightly. “you didn’t break me, dumbass.”

“just making sure,” he says, grinning a little wider now.

he sits up then, careful not to disturb you too much as he grabs a spare hoodie from his chair and offers it to you without a word. you tug it on, your cheeks heating at how impossibly jisung it smells. he pulls on his own clothes clumsily, his movements shaky, but he recovers quickly, turning back to you as he rubs a hand through his hair.

“do you, uh, need anything?” he asks, looking slightly nervous as his gaze flickers around the room, like he’s wondering if he’s supposed to have some plan.

“water might be nice?” you suggest, smiling faintly.

“got it,” he says quickly, almost tripping over his own feet as he heads to the kitchen. you bite your lip, fighting back a giggle at how adorably confused he still looks.

when he returns with a water bottle in hand, you sit up and take it from him, mumbling a quiet “thanks” as you sip. he flops down beside you again, a sigh leaving his lips as he rests his head against the headboard.

the silence is nice, comforting even, but it doesn’t last long before jisung shifts, glancing at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

“so,” he starts, drawing out the word in that dramatic way he always does when he’s trying to annoy you. “you think jaehyun could’ve done it better?”

you nearly choke on your water, whacking him in the chest as he laughs. “shut up!”

“i’m just saying!” he protests, holding up his hands in surrender. “if this was, like, a whole competition, i think i deserve at least a nine out of ten. maybe a ten, if you’re feeling generous.”

“oh my god.” you roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too now, clutching at your sides as his dramatic pout melts into his usual grin. “you’re so full of yourself.”

“i’m practical,” jisung corrects, poking your cheek lightly.

“and annoying,” you shoot back, though the love in your voice is impossible to hide.

you both get lost in giggles again, the ease of your friendship slipping back into place.

it isn’t until the laughter fades that the unspoken feelings creep back in, settling between you. jisung clears his throat softly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“so, uh… are we still…” he hesitates, his voice faltering slightly. “you know. best friends? after, uh… this?” your heart tightens at the vulnerability in his voice, and you reach over, squeezing his hand.

“yeah,” you say, smiling at him even as your cheeks heat up again. “we’re still best friends.”

jisung visibly relaxes at your words, his lips quirking into a relieved smile.

“okay,” he says softly, then after a second, “but, uh… does this mean we’re, like, best friends who, y’know…” he gestures vaguely, his ears turning bright red. “do this stuff now?”

you blink at him, then burst out laughing, the sound spilling out before you can stop it. jisung groans, hiding his face in the pillow again.

“stop laughing! i’m being serious!”

“you’re not real,” you manage between breaths, leaning over to press a light, teasing kiss to his temple. “but yeah… i think we’ll figure it out.”

jisung laughs again, the sound is so warm, so yours.

“i love you, y/n,” he says softly, his voice quiet.

your breath catches, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, your heart feeling like it’s about to burst.

“i love you too, you’re everything to me.” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his lips.

in this moment, nothing else matters but him, jisung, your best friend, or should i say your boyfriend, and how stupid you were for not realising how in love you were with him.

and the way he looks at you now? you know your feelings are reciprocated.

[florihaei]

• ౨ৎ ────── SILK AND SURRENDER ₊ ˖ ་.

김동영 ꒰ kim doyoung! x fem reader !

꒰ doyoung’s got money, power, and the whole city at his feet, but when it comes to you, all he wants is your lips, your touch, and to hear you say you’re his. ⟡ 📞

✿ - est.relationship 𓂃 fluff, very very!! suggestive, jealousy, kissing, full fic, : names : baby, beautiful , WC ୨ৎ - 1,5k!

( FLORIHAEI VALUT )

©florihaei 2025 ꒰ do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without permission ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

the click of your heels echoed through the hallway as you stepped into doyoung’s penthouse. the lights from outside glowed through the tall windows, but all you saw was him, leaning on the couch in a black shirt, a drink in his head , his eyes already on you.

“late again” he said, his voice low and calm. “you do that on purpose, don’t you baby?”

you dropped your coat on the chair and walked over, slow and smug. “you love when i make you wait.”

his lips lifted into a small smirk. “you’re not wrong baby.”

he stood up and walked towards, looking unfairly good without even trying. the way his shirt clung to him, top buttons undone, made your thoughts drift fast.

“you didn’t even text me today” you said, crossing your arms as he came closer. “too busy buying another building?”

doyoung laughed softly. “something like that”

you raised a brow. “you could’ve sent me one message.”

he slipped a hand around your waist, pulling you in. “you know i think about you beautiful, even when i don’t say it.”

you tried to keep your cool, but your hands were already moving up his chest, feeling the warmth beneath the soft fabric.

“i got you a new apartment today” he said casually. “penthouse downtown, you’ll get the keys tomorrow.”

your eyes widened. “doyoung-“

he kissed your cheek, slow and warm. “you deserve better than what you have, i don’t want you waking up in anything less than silk baby.”

you sighed. “you’re too much.”

“im just enough” he whispered. “want to fight me on that?”

instead of answering, you kissed him. deep, slow, and needy. his hands tightened on your waist while his other slid up on your back. he kissed you like he had all night, and maybe he did. with doyoung, time always felt like it stopped.

“you taste expensive.” you breathed against his lips.

“that’s because i am” he grinned.

he walked you backwards towards the couch, one of those sleek white leather ones you know no one’s ever used for sitting. he eased you down gently, hovering above you like you were made of something rare.

“you wore this dress for me?” he asked, brushing his fingers along your thigh.

“all for you…”

“mm, your so good beautiful.”

his lips found your neck, warm and slow, and his hands moved higher under your dress. he touched you like you were his favorite thing in the world, like he’d been waiting all day for this. and maybe he had.

“you drive me insane” he muttered, kissing your collarbone. “you walk in like you don’t know what you do to me.”

“what do i do to you?” you whispered.

“you ruin me.”

you paused, heart thudding a little harder. he wasn’t teasing now, his voice was soft, serious.

“i could have anyone” he said quietly, brushing your hair from your face. “but i want you, only you beautiful ..”

you looked up at him, taking in the way his eyes held yours, like he needed you to believe him. you’d always known he showed love through actions, gifts, trips, dinners where he closed off the whole place just for the two of you. but this was different.

“i want you too” you said honestly. “even without the money and the fancy places.”

his jaw clenched, and then he kissed you again , rougher this time. his hands found your jaw, tilting it just right, and his body pressed down into yours like he was trying to make sure you felt everything.

“you’re mine” he said against your lips. “say it.”

“im yours ..”

that did something to him, he kissed you harder, deeper, his hands everywhere now. and maybe that was the thing about doyoung. he didn’t just want to own nice things. he wanted to feel them, earn them,, treasure them.

you were no different.

“stay tonight..” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek. “don’t go back there baby”

you looked up at him, hair messy from his hands, lips swollen from his kisses. he looked at you like you were all he needed.

“i’ll stay.”

he smiled, sweet and proud, and stood up, reaching for your hand.

“come on” he said, guiding you towards the bedroom. “let me show you what luxury really feels like.”

and with his mouth on your neck, his fingers under your dress, and the soft sheets calling your name, he did exactly that.

[kiszjuli]

MY GIRL .ᐟ

✸ shy!mark x fem!reader | genre. fluff. | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳ synopsis. in which mark has apparently claimed you in his heart, and to no one other than his friends. hiding his feelings thinking that he didn’t have a chance, he gets extremely jealous when someone tries to ask you out for valentine’s day. you’re his girl.

↳playlist. designer - nct 127, just the way you are - bruno mars, can’t take my eyes off of you - frankie valli, when im with you - nct dream, night poem - nct dream, can’t help falling in love - elvis presley.

the student lounge was buzzing with laughter and chatter, the sounds of friends catching up and making plans for the upcoming 3-day weekend. mark sat at a corner table with his group of friends, jeno, donghyuck, and jisung. but his gaze and attention kept drifting to you. you were seated at a nearby table with your own group of friends. you were always effortlessly surrounded by people, your laugh ringing in his ears like his favorite song. mark had always admired how easily you lit up every room you entered, how everyone seemed drawn to your warmth and energy. and how-

“earth to mark,” jeno’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and Mark blinked, seeing his friends hand waving in front of his face. he looked up at his friend with a forced smile.

“huh? oh, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, fixing the hat on his head, trying to look more engaged but failing.

jisung raised an eyebrow, noticing the direction mark was looking. “you good, man?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

nodding quickly, mark then shifted in his seat. “yeah, i’m fine. just… trying to focus, you know?” He waved his hand brushing them off, though his eyes couldn’t help but flick back to you for a moment.

donghyuck catches where his eyes dart, and a knowing look forms on his face. “you sure? you’ve been staring at her all afternoon,” donghyuck added with a grin.

mark immediately blushed, feeling heat rush to his face. “what? no! i wasn’t staring,” he protested a little too quickly, tugging his hat lower to hide his face. “i just—uh, i’m just lost in thought.” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

jeno smirked. “uh-huh, sure. if you say so. but you’ve been acting kinda weird lately. you sure there’s nothing going on?”

mark swallowed hard, his heart racing at the thought of you. He had always admired you from a distance, but you were popular, way out of his league. his friends knew about his little crush on you, but he didn’t think they understood the full extent of it. he wasn’t even sure you saw him as more than a mere friend.

“i-idon’t know,” mark muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “it’s just… she’s always so surrounded by people, you know? she’s pretty much got everyone’s attention all the time.”

jeno leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “she’s definitely got yours” his comment earning a laugh from the other two.

mark’s face flushed deeper, and he slumped in his seat. “no guys, seriously,” he mumbled, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “she’s just… i don’t know. she’s popular, and i’m just… me.”

“yeah, well, ‘just you’ is exactly why you’ve got a shot,” donghyuck said, his voice light but encouraging. “you think she doesn’t notice? she does. she’s not blind, mark.”

“exactly,” jisung added, leaning back in his chair. “you’ve been acting like a nervous mess every time she’s around. maybe it’s time you do something about it, yeah?”

mark shot a small glance toward your table, his heart skipping a beat as you caught his eye for a second. he quickly adverted his gaze, pretending to be interested in something in front of him.

jeno chuckled and patted him on the back. “mark, you’ve got this. you just have to take a chance. she’s not some unreachable goddess. if you really like her, go for it. stop hiding behind your ‘I’m fine’ act.”

mark gave him a small, unsure smile. “maybe. i’ll think about it,”

but deep down, mark was terrified. he could never imagine you looking at him the way he looked at you. you were popular, funny, and effortlessly charming. he was… well, just mark.

as you laughed from across the room, mark’s heart gave an involuntary flutter. maybe his friends were right—maybe it was time to stand up and stop pretending he didn’t want more. more than to just watch you from afar. but for now, he stayed where he was, silently watching, unsure if he’d ever have the courage to tell you how he truly felt.

—

classes were now over, and small groups of people were in the large theater, helping set up for valentine's day. your school was hosting a valentine's day fundraiser, where the campus would raise money for local charities. this year's theme 'music for the heart'- likewise, the main attraction was the music appreciation raffle.

you were there of course, running the “song dedication booth” where students could pay a small fee to have a song dedicated to someone during the open mic. you decorated the booth yourself: choosing some white fairy lights to outline the sign, with red heart balloons all around, and of course some cut out music notes that you had done earlier.

“okay, so you want ‘can’t take my eyes off you’ for your girlfriend? great choice,” you said with a smile, writing the request onto the list. “she’ll love it.”

mark watched you from the edge of the stage, where he was tuning his guitar for his performance later. he could hear your cheerful voice as you talked with students, helping them pick the perfect songs. the way you talked about music, your passion shining through every suggestion and question, made his chest tighten.

“she’s really into this,” jisung remarked from behind the drum kit, glancing between mark and you. “you’re playing tonight, right? finally gonna make your move?”

mark glanced over at his friends—jeno adjusting his bass strap and dongkyuck pretending to help. he quickly averted his gaze, nervously strumming his guitar. “i don’t know,” he muttered. “she’s got so much going on. she’s busy.” he made excuses.

donghyuck rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “she’s running a music related booth, mark. if there’s ever a chance to make conversation, it’s right now.”

hesitant, he glanced back at you as you laughed with another student. “but what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” he said quietly.

“dude, she smiles at you differently than anyone else,” jeno chimed in. “i don’t think you realize how obvious you are. she’s into you too, but you can’t wait forever.”

the idea of putting himself out there, of confessing how he felt in front of everyone, made his palms sweat. he just couldn’t.

“why not dedicate your song to her?” jisung spoke up, his voice softer

mark’s heart pounded knowing that his song was already dedicated to you, having thought about it for weeks beforehand. he was going to perform ‘just the way you are’ by bruno mars.

mark glanced up, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw you looking his way, the fairy lights illuminated your features in the best way as you gave him a small, bright smile. he awkwardly waved back, his stomach flipping as you returned your attention to the students walking your way.

“smooth,” donghyuck muttered, biting back a laugh.

“shut up,” mark mumbled, his face heating up.

—

the lights in the theater dimmed, and the crowd hushed as mark stepped onto the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder. you stood near the back of the room, watching as he adjusted the mic, his hands trembling slightly. you felt a smile creeping to your face.

“this one’s for someone special,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

your best friend, winter nudged your shoulder and you glared at her with a laugh. she always teased you about your slight crush on the boy.

as the familiar chords of “just the way you are” filled the room, your heart skipped a beat. mark’s voice was soft yet filled with emotion, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

when he sang, “her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining,” you felt your cheeks flush. feeling like you were looking too much into it, you shook your head slightly and glanced down at your shoes.

by the final verse, everyone was entranced by his voice. when the song ended, the applause broke the spell, but mark’s gaze lingered on yours, his lips curving into a shy smile.

—

the rest of the fundraiser went extremely well. the crowd winding down and now you found yourself starting to pack up your things at you booth.

“hey,” a voice interrupted, making you glance up.

It was a guy from one of your classes, holding a small bouquet of roses in his hands. he looked nervous but determined as he stepped closer to your booth.

“oh, hi!” you greeted warmly, taking a pause from packing up.

mark saw it from across the student center—the way the guy nervously walked up to you, clutching a small bouquet of flowers, his face tinged pink, your kind but still friendly smile. frozen in place, his chest tightened. he couldn’t hear the conversation, but he didn’t need to. the way the guy was smiling at you and the way you politely smiled back made it clear what was happening. but you were his girl. even if that guy didn’t know it yet.

of course someone else would ask you out. he knew it was going to happen at some point, always surrounded by people who admired you. and mark? he’d spent months hiding his feelings, thinking you’d never look at him that way.

but now as he sees the guy walk away from you-missing the slight frown on his face-he can’t stop his own two feet from moving towards you. his mind was racing. did you say yes? were you off limits now? labeled as someone else’s girl?

as he approached, you were gathering the last few things from your booth. you noticed him and looked up.

“oh, mark?” you asked tilting your head, still with bright eyes.

“hey,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing as his voice cracked slightly. “i, uh… i saw you talking to that guy just now.”

you raised an eyebrow, catching the uncertainty in his tone. “huh? oh yeah, he was just—”

“did you—did you say yes?” the words spilling out before he could stop them, and he winced as soon as he realized how frantic his voice sounded.

you blinked in surprise. “what?”

“to, uh… whatever he asked you…” mark said, rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushing. he was getting more and more choked up by the second. “i mean, obviously it’s fine if you did..it’s probably none of my business and- he seemed nice. i just…” he trailed off, his words stringing along as he avoided your gaze.

you stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was getting at. a soft laugh escaped your lips, and mark’s eyes darted to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what’s funny?”

“no, i didn’t say yes,” you said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i told him i wasn’t interested.” you said looking up, your grin still lingering on your face.

mark felt relief wash over him as a small smile tugged at his lips. however, disbelief still clouded his mind. “you..didn't?”

shaking your head you spoke. “nope,” your smile was warm yet teasing as you say his rosy cheeks darken a little. “i think i’d rather wait for someone i actually want to say yes to,”

mark just blinked, not knowing how to react. what did that mean? could you be talking about him? or was it someone else? why would you-

“mark,” you called out, breaking him from his thoughts. “if..you have something to say, now would be the time,” you said softly, stepping a little closer.

“well, i-i have been wanting to say something for a while now,” he started, taking a breath. “i like you a lot, like- a lot..but i just didn’t think i had a chance..”

your smile widened feeling a small heat rise to your cheeks too. “you always had a chance mark,”

relief mixed with disbelief washed over him. you felt the same way the whole time? he let out a nervous laugh, his shoulders finally relaxing. “so, does this mean i can ask you out now?”

“i think you just did,” you teased, your fingers fiddling together, as your heart beat a little faster.

mark grinned, his confidence growing. he reached out for your hand, still shaking but sure. “well, then… will you be my valentine?” he wanted to ask ‘will you be my girl?’ but this would do for now-slow steps, he told himself.

“i’d love to,” you replied, your eyes sparkling as you smiled at him.

“y/n! can you come here for a sec?” winter called for you from the studio room. she apologized later once she found out was was happening, but you brushed it off saying it was okay.

you looked to mark and stepped closer. you softly pressed your lips to his cheekbone and pulled away slowly. “come find me later?”

he nods with a hum, too star struck by you to form a sentence, or even a word. you smiled and walked off, now knowing that you finally had the guy you wanted. and mark walked back to his guitar to his teasing friends with a dopey, cheesy smile knowing that you were his girl.

and in that moment, mark felt that every doubt, every little hesitation, had been worth it.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yowmaman @yukisroom97