#chenle fluffy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

renjunplanet · 2 years ago

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Você Vai de Limusine, Eu Vou de Trem... | Zhong Chenle

chenle nunca foi de se rebelar, mas ele se meteria em todas as presepadas possiveis só para te reencontrar mais uma vez.

notas. menção a acidente, pp "motoboy", chenle meio bobinho, muitas palavras de baixo calao e MUITAS PALAVRAS NO GERAL ME EMPOLGUEI pode ter algumas inconsistências e furo de roteiro pq eu nunca escrevi algo tao grande. primeira fic da série rapazis, pode nao ta tudo aquilo, mas vida que segue, tem referencias as outras fics ioba

Virada de sexta-feira para sábado, o relógio indicando exatas 23:57 horas com os números digitais, o carro conversível a algumas ruas de distância e a chuva forte do lado de fora agredindo as telhas da delegacia trazia um tchan a mais no cenário desagradável que Zhong Chenle estava.

— Já tentou acionar o seguro, garoto? — o policial, que Chenle havia apelidado de "Mustache", pergunta com uma carranca daquelas por detrás do bigode enorme.

— E-Eu tô tentando falar com meus pais, senhor...

— Então anda logo que eu não tenho todo tempo do mundo.

Um sorrisinho nervoso saiu do rapaz, que se tremia todo de medo.

Chenle nunca fora alguém de se meter em burradas ou em rebeldias impulsivas, na real Chenle gostava da vida tranquila que levava. Três semestres de curso de advocacia na melhor universidade do estado, uma cachorrinha com quem poderia compartilhar sonhos, uns dois ou três amigos com quem saía as sextas-feiras a noite para beber e quem sabe se aventurar com alguma garota que achou bonita no dia.

Tudo em perfeita harmonia, sem necessidade de se meter em encrenca ou de sujar o nome com alguma passagem pela polícia.

Park Jisung, que já era meio revoltado com a família, que o fez cair nessa burrada. Apostar racha? Num dia chuvoso? Puta merda, Jisung, que ideia de girico!

Durante a corrida Chenle se sentiu livre, selvagem. Gostou de sentir a sensação de quebrar regras e deixar o lado bom moço ir embora. A adrenalina passando pelas veias, os pingos de chuvas se acumulando em pequenos fluxos de água no visor assim que acelerava ainda mais o Tesla branco — que havia ganhado assim que fez 20 anos —, sentia a euforia se misturar com as luzes da cidade, quase que literalmente.

Ele bateu num poste.

Não sabia dizer a causa certa do acidente, se era por causa da moto que tentou desviar no meio da corrida ou se era porque foi burro o suficiente para não freiar o carro com antecedência.

Mas sabia dizer que por algum milagre divino não morreu, nem ele e nem o motoqueiro que estava caído a uns 10 metros dele.

Só lembra de ver o corpo magro vir na direção dele, pela rigidez do corpo e a maneira como andava mancando a passos pesados, saberia que o dono da magrela — que agora estava só o pó da rabiola — viria tirar satisfação com ele e, além de bater num poste e perder o carro, levaria uma surra de um cara manco.

— Tá maluco, caralho?! Olha a merda que você fez!

E depois de vários xingamentos voltamos para o cenário atual, um Zhong Chenle tremendo que nem o pinscher da vó dele por causa do medo que subia dos pés a cabeça.

Porra, nunca foi de incomodar os pais por motivos tão fúteis. A única vez que as autoridades ligaram para o pai de Chenle foi quando ele se perdeu no meio do povo na Time Square. Sorte a dele que tinha um guardinha ali por perto e que lembrava de cor o telefone do pai.

Não tinha coragem. Não tinha coragem de avisar para os pais a merda que fez e não tinha coragem de não avisar para os pais a merda que fez.

Nossa, eram tantas opções...

Num pulo, Chenle virou bruscamente para trás ao sentir uma mão pousar sob um de seus ombros.

Mustache o encarava com a mesma carranca que tinha quando estava do outro lado da mesa, agora de frente para ele. O policial aponta em direção ao motoqueiro do outro lado da delegacia, que finalmente tinha conseguido desencaixar o capacete que havia ficado preso durante o acidente.

— Sua amiga ali quer dar uma palavrinha com você, garoto.

Amiga? Não era um homem?

Como se estivesse em um filme, Chenle vê um dos policiais mais parrudos da delegacia puxar com tudo o capacete da cabeça da garota que antes Chenle quase mandou para conhecer Jesus.

O rosto delicado carrancudo, com os cabelos bagunçado caindo aos poucos sob os ombros, a forma como o olhar dela queimava a pele de Chenle.

De repente ele voltou para uma hora atrás, antes de bater com tudo no poste.

Puta merda, se não fosse pela carinha franzida de desgosto e como aquela expressão fazia Chenle ficar com os rabos entre as pernas, Zhong poderia jurar que ouviu a flechada do cupido repartir o coração dele em dois.

Depois do parrudão sair de perto e receber um joinha da garota, ela volta a olhar para o causador de toda a desgraça. Trocam por alguns segundos uns olhares, ela com a iris queimando voracidade tal qual um predador e Chenle com os olhos amassadinhos por causa do sorriso invertido que dava para ela — parecia um coelhinho prestes a ser comido por um lobo muito, muito mal.

A mãozinha dela dá um sinal para Chenle se aproximar, bobo e receoso, ele vai até o lugar onde a cobra dá o bote.

Assim que viu um dos braços dela se erguer, Chenle se encolheu tanto que nem parecia que tinha 1,80.

— Tá todo encolhido por que ein, Playboy? — o tom amargo dela com certeza não combinava com o rosto.

Chenle abriu um dos olhos, vendo ela com a mão esticada em sua direção. Zhong apenas a observou com uma grande e aparente confusão na cara.

— Hã?

— "Hã" o que, bonitinho? Acha que vai me fazer sofrer um acidente, perder minha magrela e minha maior fonte de renda sem sofrer as consequências? Eu quero a minha indenização, porra! — se Chenle tremia que nem a cadelinha da vó dele, ela rosnava igual a cachorrinha.

— Mas...

— Mas o que? — as sobrancelhas dela se juntaram ainda mais uma na outra, Chenle poderia jurar que por uma fração de segundos viu elas se embolarem uma na outra.

— N-Nada...

— Bom saber.

— Ei, crianças. Já pararam de discutir ai? Ou vou ter que ficar mais três horas esperando vocês se resolverem?

— Tá tudo certo aqui. O Playboy disse que vai pagar o concerto da minha magrela.

— Eu vou?

— Sim, você vai.

— Mas-

— Mas o que?

— Nada... — desistiu de novo.

— Que fique bem claro que a indenização ficou em troca de eu ter te tirado do seu carrinho da barbie e por eu ter ficado com a cabeça presa dentro daquele capacete fedorento. — o dedo indicador dela ficou bem posicionado no rosto de Chenle — E nada mais do que justo você pagar o concerto da magrela, já que se não fosse por essas manias de boy de ficar apostando racha eu não 'taria toda lascada.

— Desculpa...

— Só vai ser desculpado depois de arrumar minha moto, bonitinho.

— Garoto, fizesse o que eu te pedi? — Mustache surge novamente, com as mãos na cintura tal qual uma mãe quando vê que o filho não lavou a louça.

— Não, senhor...

— E por que não, rapaz?!

— É que eu tenho que ligar pro meu pai e-

— Puta merda, tá enrolando esse tempo todo por causa de uma ligação. É só ligar, homê! — o policial se retira em completa indignação e volta para o lugar anterior.

Chenle apenas sorri amarelo.

— Ei, florzinha. — ela chama bem baixinho o rapaz que estava quase colapsando — Sei que começamos com o pé esquerdo, mas não precisa ficar tão nervoso assim. Tenho certeza que a poça que tá se formando aqui não é da goteira e sim do seu suor, tu precisa relaxar.

— É mesmo? Não me diga... — um risinho estranho sai dele, ainda com a expressão dura.

— Assim, liga pro seu pai e conta o que aconteceu. Só que omite umas coisinhas aqui e acolá, mas menos a parte do dinheiro da magrela, eu preciso desse dinheiro! — ela diz com firmeza, deixando bem claro o que quer e o que vai cobrar se não for cumprido — Fala pra ele que você tava voltando pra casa, chuva tava forte, deu problema no carro, pá e pum. Você sofreu um acidente, veio parar na delegacia e agora tem que me garantir uma indenização pra eu poder voltar a trabalhar, simples.

Chenle apenas a observou incrédulo.

— Que foi? Prefere dizer que tava apostando racha e quase me matou? Aproveita que eu to sendo boazinha, seu jaguara. Se não eu mesma ligava pro teu pai e falava tudo o que cê fez.

— Bom, não tenho escolha, não é mesmo?

— Não tem.

— Ah... Lá vou eu...

[...]

Depois de resolver algumas papeladas e garantir o seguro do carro, Chenle agora estava do lado de fora da delegacia, esperando o pai finalizar o que tinha para assim poderem ir para casa.

Sente o cheiro amargo de cigarro fazer presença junto do geladinho da recém madrugada de sábado. Reconhecera de cara a roupa da pessoa que estava ao seu lado.

— Espero que não esqueça meu concerto, Playboy. — ela diz o olhando de relance, após soltar a fumaça da tragada que deu anteriormente no fumo — Preciso com urgência da minha moto, se não eu fico sem com o que trabalhar...

— Assim, sem querer ser metido, você trabalha com o que?

A cara dela expressando um "Sério?" fez Chenle se sentir, talvez, um pouquinho estúpido.

— Você não viu a caixa enorme vermelha que eu tava carregando nas costas? — o rapaz apenas nega com a cabeça — Garoto, eu trabalho de motoboy!

— Ah...

— "Ah" o que? — ela o ameaça de novo.

— Nada... — a voz sai bem aguda.

Uma tragada e um silêncio momentâneo.

— Enfim, deixa o teu contato comigo pra gente se falar.

— Ah, é. — procura o celular entre os bolsos da jaqueta e não encontra nada — Puta merda, acho que deixei o celular no carro.

— Oxe e como tu ligou pro teu pai?

— Usei o telefone da delegacia, óbvio.

— Justo. — acenou com a cabeça, tragando o cigarro mais uma vez.

— Você tá com seu celular ai?

— Tô. — entrega o celular para ele.

— Isso é um celular Jellypop*? — Chenle pergunta perplexo.

— Eu sei lá, é? — ela o encara sem entender bulhufas do que ele tá dizendo — Que que tem?

— Garota, esse telefone é da época da minha vó, ultrapassado demais!

— Oxe, problema meu. Vai passar teu número pra mim ou vai ficar se fazendo, barbie girl?

— Nossa eu não faço ideia de como que mexe num treco desses.

— Dá aqui, dá. Tu gosta de dificultar as coisas — puxa com tudo o aparelho da mão dele — Vai ditando que eu vou escrevendo.

Chenle concorda com ela e lhe diz o número de contato.

— E o seu nome?

— Zhong Chenle.

— Saúde.

— Que?

— Nada. — ela suspira — Como que escreve isso?

— "Dá aqui, dá". — ele diz com uma voz mais fininha e a garota o encara indignada pela imitação terrível — Aqui. — devolve o celular.

— Meu senhor, que nome difícil. — ela guarda o telefone novamente, dando mais uma tragada no cigarro barato.

— Pro seu governo, meu nome tem um significado muito-

— Vamos, Lele? — o Zhong mais velho surge no cenário, quebrando na hora o raciocínio do filho.

— Ah, pai... — Chenle varia o olhar entre a fumante, que tinha uma expressão de desdém, e o pai que já estava na porta do carro — Bem, eu já vou. Boa noite.

Chenle se despede de uma maneira desengonçada, correndo até a porta do passageiro do carro caro. Antes de entrar escuta a voz da garota reverberar sobre seus ouvidos, num tom debochado, assim como o sorriso que viu de relance quando o pai deu partida no automóvel.

"Boa noite, Lele."

— Puta que pariu, Chenle.

Algjmas horas depois da grande encrenca que Zhong se meteu, ele se encontrava sábado a tarde na casa do amigo para tirar satisfação do ocorrido. Por que ele sumiu? Onde ele estava quando Chenle sofreu o acidente? Por que ele não retornou as ligações que Chenle fez assim que chegou em casa depois de sair da delegacia?

1.) Park Jisung sumiu para se resolver com a namorada psicótica dele depois de brigarem pelo telefone no meio do racha.

2.) Park Jisung estava se resolvendo com a namorada na casa dela.

3.) Park Jisung estava ocupado demais para atender o telefone, já que estava resolvendo o problema com a namorada dele, na cama dela.

— Não acredito que você fudeu com seu carro todo. Porra aquele Tesla era bonitão.

— Jisung, deixa de ser um mala por pelo menos 5 segundos. EU QUASE MORRI.

— Quem manda ser maria-vai-com-as-outras, se tivesse negado como as outras vezes não teria acabado com seu carro. — um dos amigos inconvenientes de Jisung se junta na roda de conversa sem convite.

Pelo amor...

— O problema não é só meu carro também, né. Fodi com a moto da menina no acidente sem querer e agora tô morrendo de vergonha...

— Ih... Vergonha por que, Zhong? Ela era gatinha? — o cara chato leva um tapão estalado vindo de Jisung.

Coitado ficaria por um mês dolorido naquela região.

— Não fode, Lucas. Não tem o que fazer, não? Tu não tinha marcado de sair com a tua mina ou algo assim?

— Ah, ela tá de boa em casa.

— E por que não trouxe ela, cara? — Jisung pergunta com o cenho franzido estranhando a situação.

— Deixa minha princesinha quietinha na dela. Ela não é do tipo que curte isso. — Lucas diz isso de uma maneira, talvez, esnobe.

Chenle só fez revirar os olhos. Lucas sempre foi assim, um cara inconveniente e fútil pra caralho, nem sabe como um cara desses tinha uma namorada. Ou a lábia era muito boa, ou a coitada era muito estúpida.

— Se eu fosse você abria o olho, se continuar deixando sua mina de lado, algum espertinho rouba ela de você facinho.

— Zhong, faz favor. Fica na sua. — Lucas fala, se retirando com uma garrafinha de cerveja na mão indo para o outro lado da casa de Jisung.

Apesar de Chenle ter ido tirar satisfação com Jisung, ele meio que acabou indo numa péssima hora. Festas na casa de Park sempre fora algo muito comum, mas ultimamente tem sido com muita frequência. Vamos lá, sábado a tarde, de bobeira, por sorte a chuva anterior aliviou-se e o solzão era muito convidativo. Jisung não aguentou, ele precisava fazer uma particular na piscina, só com os amigos mais chegados ou com alguns penetras tipo Lucas, principalmente depois da noite feliz que ele — e somente ele — teve ontem.

— Porra, pior que agora que eu me toquei que eu não tenho o número dela e não faço ideia de qual seja seu nome.

— Mas tu não falou que ela tinha pedido teu contato e tudo mais?

— Sim, ela pediu meu contato. Mas eu esqueci de pedir o dela. Maldita hora que eu esqueci o telefone...

— Você disse que ela trabalha como entregadora, se pá, se você procurar bem você acha ela em algum desses restaurantes.

— Jisung, eu não vou perder meu tempo procurando por uma garota de 20 anos em restaurante e restaurante, isso é loucura.

— E a oficina onde deixaram teu carro e a moto dela? Não tem o contato dela lá?

— Nossa verdade, eu esqueci.

— Po, mas tu também é burro.

— Cala a boca.

[...]

Não, não tinha o contato dela na oficina.

Na real não quiseram passar o contato para Chenle.

Mas o destino parecia querer cruzar o caminho dos dois, já que coincidentemente bem quando Zhong havia desistido de encontrá-la, os dois se tombaram na entrada da oficina.

— Ih, Playboy. Tá fazendo o que aqui?

Tava te procurando.

Foi o que ele pensou.

— Vim dar uma checada no carro...

— Ah, sim.

— E você?

— Vim dar uma checada na minha mosca.

— Mosca?

— É. É o nome da minha moto.

— Que nome horrível.

— Rapaz, você se chama Chenle, fica na sua.

— Olha aqui-

— Seu pai me mandou um recado falando pra mim vim aqui ver como que tava indo, o que tinha pra arrumar e pá.

— Ué, como que ele falou contigo.

— Ontem quando você tava ocupado em depressão do lado de fora da delegacia seu pai me pediu meu número pra ele avisar sobre os procedimentos e tal que a magrela ia passar.

— Tá bom... Mas se você tinha o contato do meu pai por que pediu o meu?

Um sorrisinho sarcástico surge no rosto dela, os olhinhos olhando o rapaz de cima baixo e a aura intensamente sexual que ela emanava fez Chenle se arrepiar pelo corpo inteiro.

— Descubra...

Passado um mês e meio depois do incidente, neste período de tempo Chenle e a "motoboy" haviam trocado alguns momentos um pouco estranhos, se podemos assim dizer.

Sabe, da situação problema que tiveram até uma amizade sólida foi um caminho um tanto engraçado de ser percorrido. Principalmente com os flertes e a lábia malandra da garota para cima de Chenle — que durante o tempo de convivência acabou descobrindo que ela só dava em cima dele para o incomodar.

Chenle chegou a apresentar ela para Jisung em um dia que estavam de bobeira e com um calor infernal pertubando-os a pele. Um sorvete de casquinha, um de potinho e o picolé mais barato da sorveteria rendeu um dos momentos mais engraçados que tiveram juntos durante aquele intervalo de um mês.

Com o passar dos dias, virou rotina os dois passarem a tarde na oficina ou na praça perto dela conversando sobre automóveis ou sobre qualquer outra baboseira da vida.

A rotina de Zhong havia se retransformado: era faculdade durante as manhãs, ir a oficina de tarde e os fins de semana inventava uma desculpinha ou outra para passar junto com a garota da moto de nome estranho, seja irem em algum fastfood ou trailer de lanche duvidoso que ela conhecia.

Quem visse ao longe iriam os confundir com um casal, algo que com certeza deixava Chenle muito feliz.

Todavia, chega um momento que ciclos se finalizam.

Assim que se foi cumprido o combinado, todo o tempo que passaram juntos pareceu sumir num piscar de olhos, se tornando um só com o passado, se desmanchando em lembranças.

Com uma última piada engraçada vinda da garota e os cabelos esvoaçantes dela indo embora assim que ela subiu na moto agora arrumada e deu partida, a despedida se fez silenciosa.

Chenle não sabia, mas depois daquele dia, seria a última vez que veria o sorriso dela.

Seria a última vez que sentiria seu perfume.

Até o destino fazer eles se reencontrarem de novo.

— Vamos, Chenle. Deixa de corpo mole.

Haviam se passado vários meses desde a última vez que Zhong e a garota da moto se viram, desde então a menção da garota se tornou um tabu entre Chenle e os amigos, já que ela conseguiu se tornar um assunto muito delicado para o pobre rapaz.

Chenle notou que os sentimentos que estavam começando a florescer nele sobre a garota eram muito mais complexos do que uma simples atração. Ficou tão óbvio para ele que as desculpas de sempre vê-la, ou dar um jeito de colocá-la como prioridade na agenda quase ocupada dele, era uma forma de suprimir toda aquele desejo de poder tê-la por perto.

A primeira semana para ele foi muito dolorosa. As mensagens que enviava não recebiam respostas. As ligações não eram atendidas.

E as tentativas falhas de encontros, se transformavam em desencontros.

Chenle sentiu raiva como reação a situação frustrante.

Depois sentiu tristeza, mas não conseguia chorar, só sentir como se os pulmões fossem prensados um no outro, causando uma agonia sem igual.

Chenle sentiu saudade.

E depois da saudade ele simplesmente pegou ranço a qualquer coisa relacionada a ela.

Mas lá no fundo ele ainda queria reencontrá-la, queria perguntar o porquê das coisas terem seguido esse rumo. O que ela havia feito, como estava.

Se os sonhos que tinha compartilhado com ele haviam se realizado.

Por isso Chenle agora se via na sua atual situação.

Trajado de roupas caras e fresquinhas, sentado no sofá da sala de Jisung — enquanto o mais novo o puxava para saírem —, a espera do tal luau que Park havia o convidado para espairecer as ideias, mudar os horizontes.

Esquecer dela.

— Eu já to indo, Jisung... — respondeu arrastando a frase num resmungo.

— Levanta logo a bunda daí, Mark disse que Jeno e Jaemin já tão l��. Só tá esperando a gente e o rabugento do Renjun.

— O Renjun vai? Que milagre.

— Tive a mesma reação.

— Pensei que ele tava ocupado passando raiva atoa com aquela mina lá.

— Ta, ta. Levanta logo. — o mais alto joga uma almofada contra Zhong.

Depois de vários murmurinhos mal humorados e xingamentos, os dois amigos haviam finalmente chegado ao festival/luau/resenha na praia.

O céu se esfriava de pouquinho à pouquinho, o azul e o amarelo da tarde de sol movimentada da sexta-feira era substituído lentamente por um lilás clarinho. As ondas do mar, a juventude local entre risadas e sorrisos e a areia fofinha entre os dedos dos pés fez Chenle esquecer de tudo por um momento.

Se permitiu ter a serenidade de ser jovem acariciar a pele e a alma.

Chenle cumprimentou os amigos, algumas pessoas desconhecidas e, após uma cerveja e outra, decidiu ir assistir o mar.

As ondas da praia junto da luz da lua era uma das coisas que Chenle mais amava. A melodia que ressoava e o balanço das águas.

Ah, aquilo era como assistir uma dança apaixonada.

— Playboy? É você?

Como num piscar de olhos, Zhong sentiu toda a calmaria de seu ser ser destruída. Aquela voz, rasgando a pintura que Chenle tinha em mente, causando o caos, destruindo sua paz de espírito, foi o suficiente para ele virar o rosto em direção a ela.

Estava diferente, muito diferente. Os cabelos antes compridos, enrolados e selvagens, estavam agora curtos. O sorriso continuava o mesmo, a aura diferente — Chenle não sabia se era no sentido bom ou ruim.

O visual animalesco, revoltado. A postura de uma mulher madura, independente e sarcástica, todavia carismática e gentil.

Tudo era igual, com uma pitada de mudança, que fazia Chenle a desconhecer — isso se um dia a conheceu de verdade.

— Você... Eu...

— Como sempre muito expressivo, Lele. — ela riu para ele, bebericando de uma bebida duvidosa que conseguiu entre a pequena manada de jovens bêbados.

— O que você está fazendo aqui? — o cenho franze, ele a analisa de cima a baixo para ter certeza se era ela mesmo.

— Jisung me convidou.

— Que? — como assim Jisung a convidou? — Não to entendendo...

Sério isso? Cortou totalmente o contato com ele, mas com Park Jisung não? O garoto que ela mal conhecia e que a única vez que esteve no mesmo espaço que ele foi quando os três saíram juntos? Really?!

— Se encontramos por acaso no meu trampo hoje de manhã-

— O lugar onde você trabalha de motoboy? — Chenle a interrompe, sentindo um pouquinho de amargor no âmago, que com certeza não era do álcool.

Chenle não ficava bêbado facilmente.

— Ih, nem. — ela nega rindo, entre goles — Pedi demissão dessa lanchonete faz um tempão já.

— Ah... — cínico, ele responde.

E por que sumiu? Era a pergunta que estava entalada na garganta.

— Jisung me viu por lá, conversamos um pouco e ele me falou sobre o luau. Daí veio o convite. — disse simplista, com um sorriso meigo no rosto.

— Hum... — Chenle desvia o olhar da figura feminina para as ondas escuras, concluindo o diálogo de uma maneira desconfortável.

E se fez presente o silêncio.

Um silêncio muito alto e agoniante.

— Eu parei de fumar, sabia? — ela fala num murmuro, com o indicador circulando o topo do copo demonstrando incerteza.

— Sério? Parabéns. — Zhong realmente não queria conversar agora.

— Naquele dia, quando a gente recebeu de volta o carro e a moto, quando eu cheguei em casa encontrei meu vô doente no chão. — um suspiro pesado sai dela — Encontrei ele desmaiado no chão por falta de ar e outros problemas que deram nele. Ele ficou uma semana no hospital até ser diagnosticado com câncer.

Chenle volta a prestar atenção nela, agora com uma expressão preocupada.

— Foi uma correria que só, aquele velho me deu trabalho. — ela ri de uma maneira triste, olhando para baixo e depois voltando a fitar o horizonte — Hoje faz um mês que ele se foi, Lele. Por isso eu parei de fumar e por-

— Por isso que você sumiu? — ele afirma, com a frase soando mais como uma pergunta.

— Foi por isso e também porque aquele meu celular jurássico tinha virado camiseta de saudade.

— Boba, para de fazer piada era pra ser um momento triste. — ele dá um soquinho de leve no ombro dela, que ri gentilmente.

— Desculpa. — a garota pede, o observando serena.

— Pelo o que? — Chenle a questiona, sentindo os olhos arderem.

— Por sumir. Por não ter te procurado. E mesmo que eu estivesse ocupada com meu vô, eu sei que não é desculpa pra ter desfeito nossa amizade, Le. — chuta a areia meio decepcionada consigo mesma — Eu tive vergonha, medo do que sentia e ainda sinto. Tive receio de sermos muito diferentes, vivermos em mundo diferentes.

— Não diz isso...

— Tive medo de eu ser a única a sentir alguma coisa, principalmente por você ser realmente o primeiro amor que eu já tive, Chenle.

E é calada pelas mãos do rapaz tocando sua carne.

Os lábios rosados prensados contra os dela, a noite beijando suas figuras sob a luz do luar.

A canção das ondas tocando a sinfonia deles.

Os olhares confusos dela cruzando os olhares de paixão dele.

— Nunca mais some desse jeito, por favor. — leva as pequenas mãos dela para o rosto, afundando-o entre os dedos quentinhos — Por favor...

— Eu prometo.

"Prometo nunca mais te deixar, Lele".

#chenle x you #chenle fanfic #nct pt br #nct dream #chenle nct #chenle imagine #cbjr playlist #FINALMENTE TEMRINEI DE ESCREVER AMIGOS #nct fluffy

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nanamelody · 1 year ago

Note

oiiii quero pedir um scenario curtinho de como seria a reação dos dreamies quando você chama ele de um apelido carinhoso pela primeira vez. obgda <3

Título: Apelido carinhoso

Gênero: Fluffy | fem!reader

Nota da Autora: Oiês minhas amorinhas! Tudo bem? Hj um anon maravilhoso me pediu uma escrita curtinha, então consegui postar rapidinho. Espero que vocês gostem.

mark lee

• Aconteceria num momento bastante aleatório.

• "Amor, você pode pegar as sacolas de compras do mercado no porta mala do carro? Estou com preguiça de ir buscar."

• Em dias normais, Mark faria seu papel de namorado fofo, mas resmungaria um pouquinho antes de resolver te ajudar.

• Você deixaria esse menino tão soft pt.1

• No momento em que você o chamou de amor, ele travou, tentando assimilar o que ouviu.

• Eu acho que o Mark tem cara de quem riria ~ MUITO ~ por não saber como reagir. As bochechas coradas entregariam a vergonha.

• "Fofa. Você também é o meu amor."

• E assim, você derreteria o pobre coração do garoto canadense por pelo menos uma semana.

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

huang renjun

• Você teria uma prova super importante na faculdade, e suas anotações tinham sumido. O nervosismo estava te fazendo suar frio.

• Renjun estava na sala assistindo TV, quando você chegou bem na sua frente.

• "Anjo, você viu aquela pasta transparente que estava aqui em cima?"

• Renjun abriria um sorriso disfarçado na hora. Nem reclamaria por você ter entrado na frente do aparelho

• "Claro, meu bem. Guardei sua pasta dentro da primeira gaveta da escrivaninha."

• Mesmo não comentando nada, ele com certeza gostaria muito. O sorriso bobo diria por ele.

• "Amor, não se preocupe com sua prova. Minha namorada é extremamente inteligente e sei que faz um bom trabalho em qualquer coisa que se propuser a fazer."

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

lee jeno

• Aconteceria quando você viu Jeno pronto para um show.

• Vocês estariam no camarim.

• Você admiraria a beleza do seu namorado em silêncio, até os deixarem a sós.

• "Vida, você está tão lindo! Uau, sou uma mulher de sorte."

• Você deixaria esse menino tão soft pt.2

• Mais do que depressa, os olhinhos de Jeno se tornariam dois risquinhos e um sorriso perfeito (AAAAAAA) se formaria em seu rosto.

• "Não, amor. Nessa história, acho que eu fui o cara de sorte."

• Antes de entrar no palco, te encheria de amor, nunca deixando de sorrir.

• Ele ficaria resmungando "vida" toda hora, na intenção de lembrar do apelido.

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

lee donghyuck

• Aconteceria durante uma partida de vídeo game.

• Você estaria frustrada por seu namorado dar mais atenção para um jogo do que para você.

• Depois de mais de meia hora plantada no sofá do dormitório, você resolve se pronunciar.

• "Gatinho, será que você pode dar um pouquinho de atenção para sua namorada? Ou você namora com o vídeo game?"

• Sendo o menino levado que é, Haechan pensaria em uma resposta para te provocar, mas assim que raciocinasse que você o chamou de gatinho, simplesmente pararia de jogar e te encararia.

• "Se você me chamar assim de novo, juro que desligo esse vídeo game e te dou a atenção que você quer."

• E sim, ele desligaria. Seria uma ótima chantagem para usar durante os outros dias.

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

na jaemin

• Aconteceria quando você estava se arrumando para um evento importante.

• Jaemin estava lindo, tal qual um príncipe, te esperando sentado na cama.

• "Meu príncipe, será que você pode me ajudar a escolher um vestido? Estou em dúvida entre esses dois."

• Pelo espelho, foi perceptível que Jaemin levantou o olhar e rapidamente andou até você

• O próximo momento seria tão rápido que você nem perceberia.

• Ele te viraria e te puxaria para ele, te olhando profundamente.

• Você deixaria esse menino tão soft pt.3

• "Você me chamou de que, meu amor?"

• Ele diria, enquanto segura suas bochechas. Os olhos dele estão brilhando muito.

• Você repete o apelido. Ele toma seus lábios em um beijo delicado, nunca deixando de sorrir.

• "Bem, você fica linda nos dois vestidos, mas acho que o preto fica estonteante."

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

zhong chenle

• Chenle estaria assistindo algo super chato na TV, com o volume alto, o que estava te irritando um pouco.

• Você teria um seminário importante demais para o seu mestrado na noite seguinte e andava de um lado para o outro na sala, atrás do sofá onde seu namorado estava.

• "O HPV é uma infecção se... Meu bem, será que você pode abaixar um pouco a TV? Queria apresentar para você, mas não quero te atrapalhar no seu momento de descanso."

• Não sinto que Chenle mostre muito o quanto ficou empolgado. Por dentro, ele está extremamente feliz com o apelido (MUITO feliz), mas por fora, mostra-se calmo e vai usa-lo para te provocar.

• "Meu bem, estou te ouvindo. Sobre o que você falava mesmo?"

• Você revirou os olhos, já que Chenle imitou sua voz ao te chamar de "meu bem", mas logo se surpreendeu com o namorado desligando a TV, ao invés de apenas abaixar o volume.

• Quando você questionasse o porquê dele ter desligado o aparelho, ele apenas sorriria e te diria para prosseguir com as suas falas.

• "Está tudo perfeito, meu bem. Você está falando muito bem, vai dar tudo certo. Minha namorada é muito inteligente, uma verdadeira estrela, assim como eu."

• E você aguentaria um Chenle irritante te chamando de "meu bem" em qualquer situação, seja fofa ou provocativa.

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

park jisung

• Aconteceria de forma bem espontânea.

• Vocês estariam num parque de diversões, na fila da montanha-russa.

• Como uma boa namorada, você percebeu que Jisung estava meio quieto, apreensivo, beirando o desespero. Você sabia sobre o medo de altura dele, mas não sabia que era assim tão grande.

• Bebê, não fique com medo. Estou com você, ok? Fofo!"

• Nos próximos minutos, Jisung ficaria confuso, perdido. Ele ficou feliz e sorriu disfarçadamente, mas não tinha certeza se podia te chamar assim também. Deveria te chamar por um apelido em qual momento?

• A fila estava andando com uma vagarosidade impressionante. Vocês começaram a conversar sobre outros assuntos, então nem perceberam quando se aproximaram mais e mais do brinquedo. O garoto avaliou que era o melhor momento.

• "Vamos, bebê? Chegou a nossa vez."

• Você teve que se segurar para não morder a bochecha do menino que, pelo resto da noite, usava todas as situações possíveis para te chamar de bebê.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘ ❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ♡゙

carol loves jaemin®

#nct dream #scenario #scenario nct dream #nct #mark #renjun #jeno #haechan #jaemin #chenle #jisung #ot7 #fluffy #7dream #imagine nct dream

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ohhmydyosfics · 1 year ago

Text

(Hyuckle) tangerine love (favorite)

“Are you my sugar daddy?”

It’s very difficult to leave Chenle of all people speechless, but Donghyuck’s always been prone to do the impossible.

“What?”

(i (omega, 25) am in love with my best friend (alpha, 24) and he offered to help me with my heat. what do i do?!)

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sincerelyneo · 4 months ago

Text

i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to fuck you | l.mk

“you are the girl that i’ve been dreaming of”

📀now playing: i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you by black kids

❯ summary: Asking your best friend to take your virginity because you have a crush on someone else and want experience is totally normal, right? Mark doesn’t think so. If he’s taking your virginity, it’s not for practice—it’s for him. He’s nobody’s wingman—especially not when it comes to you.

❯ pairings: mark x virgin fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends to lovers

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, corruption kink, loss of virginity, nipple play, fingering, hand jobs, praising, body worship, protected sex, back scratching, brief possessiveness, pet names, reader uses she/her pronouns, swearing, love confessions, just fluffy smut because it’s what i do best lol.

Mark swears he’s a good listener. Considering he’s been friends with Zhong Chenle for years, the world’s most dedicated yapper, he doesn’t really have a choice. He has to be a good listener. But Mark almost does a double take when he hears the words ‘my virginity’ and ‘you’ come out of your mouth.

His best friend. With the biggest, prettiest, most innocent eyes and sweet little mouth that could barely stammer through conversations about flirting—asking him about sex. No. Not just asking. Wanting him.

After nearly choking on his own spit, Mark tries to regain his composure—but fails miserably. Especially when your cheeks flush, and you start chewing on your bottom lip. It’s a crime. No, worse. It’s sin in human form. You’re sin in human form. Looking this cute, blushing like a maniac, like you didn’t just drop that question on him.

“You want me to take your virginity, Y/N?”

You cringe the second he repeats your question back to you. It sounded a lot better in your head—practical, reasonable, totally fine. But now, with his brows furrowed and that ‘are you insane?’ look on his face, you’re starting to think maybe you are insane.

But when you came up with this plan last night, none of that crossed your mind. All you knew was that Mark never says no to you. Ever. Not when you asked him to be your first kiss in middle school. Not when you made him take you to your first frat party. Not even when you guilt-tripped him into helping with your dissertation.

"Look, forget it—" you say, pushing to your feet, desperate to escape your shared living room that suddenly feels way too hot under Mark’s stare. "I totally crossed a line by asking. I’m sure I can find someone on Tinder—"

"No."

You blink. "No?"

Mark wants to curse himself for the hasty reply, but who could blame him? There’s just no way he’s letting you swipe right on some douche bag looking for a quick fuck—some guy who’ll take you to a lousy bar, probably make you pay for your own drinks, and then expect to take your virginity like it’s nothing.

It’s ridiculous. It’s not happening.

Not when you just handed him the opportunity on a silver platter.

“What I meant to say was,” Mark rubs the back of his neck, “Don’t you want to lose your virginity to someone you trust—someone you love?”

You nod without hesitation. “That’s why I asked you. There’s not a single man I trust more than you. And I love you—platonically, yeah, but it’s still love.”

Platonic.

If Mark could rip that word out of the dictionary, set it on fire, and launch the ashes into space, he would. Anything to stop you from thinking whatever he feels towards you is platonic. Was it platonic when he kissed you when you were eleven? No. Was it platonic when he drove ten miles just for your favourite snack on your birthday? No. Was it platonic when he worked on your final thesis at the same time as his own? No.

And if he’s going to be the first one to have you, it sure as hell won’t be platonic. That’s for damn sure.

His eyes squeeze shut as he sits forward, clammy hands rubbing up and down his jeans. "Okay, so you want me, your best friend, to take your virginity? Why?"

You chew your lip. This was the part of the scenario that kept you up at night—explaining why. How the hell are you supposed to tell someone you want them to take your virginity just so you can be ready for someone else? There’s no handbook, no online forum, for this kind of thing.

So you settle for:

“It’s stupid. A dumb reason. Don’t even worry about it. Will you do it or not?”

Mark gives you a knowing look, exactly like you knew he would. He’s one of those perspective fuckers, especially when it comes to you. Normally, you love it. Right now, not so much.

“Y/N,” he draws out your name, “What happened to me being one of the most trusted men you know? Tell me.”

You suck in a breath, trying to steady yourself. After all, it’s just Mark. Sweet, kind, nonjudgmental, Mark.

“I have a crush on my co-worker, Xiaojun,” you blurt out. Mark just blinks, completely still, like he’s trying to process. You, on the other hand, keep rambling. “And there’s rumours that he’s amazing in bed, and he asked me out for drinks this Friday, and I just feel really…unprepared.”

Mark feels his blood pressure spike—because fuck your co-worker, fuck those rumours and fuck that little date your planning to gone on this Friday night. Look, he’s not a prude or anything. Mark knows people fuck on a first date—but not you. At least not you with some asshole making you think you need to be prepared for him.

"If that asshole makes you feel less than just because you're a virgin, Y/N, he’s not worth your time."

You narrow your eyes. "I don’t think your opinion holds any weight here, considering you don’t think any guy is worth my time."

Mark relaxes slightly and smiles at that—because it’s true. No man deserves to talk to you, touch you, kiss you—no one but him.

“Besides,” you perk up again, trying to sound more confident. “This isn’t about what Xiaojun or any other guy thinks. This is about me… being comfortable having sex with someone that isn’t myself.” You chew your lower lip. “I want to be comfortable having sex with other men.”

Mark almost growls, a caveman-like urge pounding in his chest at the thought of you wanting to be comfortable with other men. He’s changed his mind. He’d take the word platonic any day over hearing other men leave your mouth.

“Let me get this straight—you want me to teach you how to fuck, to please other men?”

Your cheeks flush, not just because the idea sounds so ridiculous when he puts it like that, but because it’s the first time you've ever heard him talk like that. Mark is always so careful, so delicate with you, keeping his foul mouth and sex life locked away. But hearing the phrase "how to fuck" leave his mouth in that deep, husky drawl, sends a pulse right through you, straight to your clit.

You chew your lip again, hesitating. “I don’t know… I just wanna be good... at it… at sex.”

Mark’s head tilts back as he stares at the ceiling, a string of mumbled curses slipping out before his Adam’s apple starts bobbing against his throat. He pauses to think—and so do you. You can’t figure out why he’s interrogating you like this. The proposition is a lot, yes, but if you’d crossed a line and made him uncomfortable, he could’ve just said so, you wouldn’t have taken it personally. There’s no reason for him to poke and prod like this.

Just as you're about to squash this whole thing, Mark speaks again. He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, his brows furrowed like he's still deep in thought, but his eyes, dark and blown wide, pin you in place.

"I'll teach you, Y/N," he says, standing up slowly. "I'll fuck you if that's what you want and if that’s what you're asking me for," he continues, moving closer until he's right in your personal space. "But I won't fuck you just to get you ready for someone else."

"Mark—"

"No, Y/N, I’m talking," he cuts you off, his long, tantalizing finger tracing from your cheek down to your neck before he whispers, "I don’t mind teaching you how to be good at sex with me, angel, but I’m sure as fuck not teaching you how to be good at it for someone else. If I finally get to fuck you, I’m gonna teach you how to be good for me."

Your mouth parts in a soft gasp, just from his words and that innocent touch alone. Mark’s eyes track the movement, and his irises darken with something you can’t quite name—want, lust, need... you don’t know. All you know is that it’s fucking hot, and it almost makes you miss what he just said.

"Finally?" you breathe out.

The corner of Mark's mouth twitches into a smile, and a low, silky laugh slips from him. "Don't pretend like you don't know I want you." His finger slides to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re too fucking smart to be playing dumb with me, Y/N. You know you could have me on my knees if you just asked. I’d do anything if you just asked.”

You always knew you had Mark wrapped around your little finger, but you never realized it was because he wanted you the same way you’ve wanted him. Yes, you’d only asked him to help you with this plan because you know he struggles to say no to you; but a small, twisted part of you wanted Mark to be the one to take your virginity. Because he’s him—hot, lean, experienced, sweet, loyal Mark. Your Mark.

It’s all too much. His breath is too warm on your skin, his words too heated, his proximity too hot—he’s too hot. You whimper, and you watch as his pupils soften in response.

“Y/N,” he says softly now. “I need you to use your words to tell me what you want. If you don’t want to do this anymore—because, to me, it’s more than just practice—that’s fine. But if we do... this, us, it becomes real.”

Your mind goes fuzzy. Words? He thinks you have words after just confessing that this—that you—are something he wants? Almost like he senses your hesitation, he nuzzles deeper into your neck, his lips feather-light, dusting over your skin in a way that sets your nerves alight. It’s erotic, it’s intimate, it’s so damn sexy.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” His voice is soft, breath scorching against your skin, thumb grazing over your collarbone like he’s memorizing you. “I’ve imagined you—craved you—for years. If you want me to take your virginity, I’ll do it. Happily. But I’ll be your first and your last—not Xiaojun.”

The mention of your coworker feels irrelevant now—a distant, meaningless fantasy compared to this. The stupid office daydream you’d clung to seems laughable because the man you thought only saw you as a friend is standing right here, offering himself to you. Completely. Utterly asking to be yours. And who are you to deny him?

“I want this—”

Mark doesn’t waste another second, doesn’t let you finish your sentence—because he’s wasted too much damn time already. Too much time waiting, hoping, aching to hear you want him. Not just need him for something, but actually want him. Crave him. Desire him.

He has to kiss you. Now.

It starts slow, soft, and sweet. Both your mouths take their time exploring one another as his hand tenderly cups your face, holding you to him. But in no time at all, the heat builds, kisses stretching longer, deeper, until it’s not enough for him. Not nearly enough for you. A hum of approval slips from you the moment his tongue grazes yours, and he takes it as permission, sweeping in and taking control.

“I have fucking dreamed about this,” he pants against your lips. “About kissing you. About touching you. Tell me to stop if it’s too much, Y/N.”

Stop? He’s out of his damn mind if he thinks you want to stop. You shake your head against his lips, legs winding around his, and he takes the hint without hesitation. His hands find your waist, lifting you with ease until you’re resting around his hips. His eyes are fully dark now, black, and locked onto you. They never waver as he carries you both to his bedroom.

Mark lays you down carefully, like you’d break if he was any rougher, but his gaze tells a different story—intense, burning, desperate. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and he just stares, eyes roaming every inch of you like he’s savouring the moment before he ruins you completely.

You’ve never been this intimate with a man before. Sure, you’re no stranger to your own fingers, to vibrators, and okay—maybe you don’t mind the occasional steamy make out session at a party. But this? In his room, under his stare, is different. You’re not even naked yet, and somehow, you already feel so bare, so exposed.

“I want to take my time with you, Y/N,” Mark murmurs, as he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He gently pushes you back so you’re lying flat, his body hovering over yours. “I want to savour every inch of this pretty little body of yours... and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, nodding at the same time, and Mark smiles, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips.

His hands slide up your legs, gliding over the fabric of your sweatpants, until they reach the hem. His eyes search yours, silently asking for confirmation, and you nod, breath catching in your throat. He tugs at your pants, so slow, so deliberate, and when they finally slip off, he lets out a low, groggy "fuck" at the sight of the pink lacy panties you’d chosen for this—for him.

You suddenly feel self-conscious, heat creeping up your chest.

"Knew I'd say yes, huh?" Mark coos, his hand tracing the band of your panties as he looks over your body, studying it because it's the first time he’s seeing you like this. Displayed for him.

You blush, squirming beneath him, overwhelmed by how new, how unfamiliar this all feels. Mark senses your discomfort and smiles softly.

"Don’t go shy on me now, pretty girl," he murmurs, "I’m losing my shit knowing you wore this with me."

His hands graze over your hip bone, fingers brushing gently, soothing as they explore the small hint of flesh you're revealing to him. The softness of his touch, of him, makes you ease up just a little.

“I wore the matching bra too,” you say on an exhaled breath.

Mark groans, his eyes closing as he takes in a slow, intentional breath of his own, nostrils flaring slightly. “Did you? Can I see, baby? Please?”

You nod, and those exploring hands of his glide up your stomach, fingers brush over your skin as he tugs the tight fabric of your tank top over your head. When it falls away, you're left in nothing but the matching set. The pink bralette, almost see-through, giving him a clear, vivid view of your pebbled nipples.

"So fucking beautiful, Y/N," he says, his voice strained, almost painfully. "Can you take it off for me?"

You smile, teasing, as your hands find the clasp at the back. "After I went through all this effort to put it on for you?"

He shakes his head with a small scoff of laughter, the sound easing your nerves a bit. That familiar banter, the playful back-and-forth, reminds you why you asked him—why you wanted him to do this in the first place. You trust him.

“Is this the part where I learn that you’re a fucking brat?” he mutters, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“I can be, if you want me to be.”

Something flashes in his eyes—dark, predatory—and he leans in closer, his tone dropping an octave. “Take the bra off. Now, Y/N.”

And you do, the flimsy fabric slipping from your breasts and meeting the same fate as your sweats and tank. You feel so exposed, which is ridiculous considering how little modesty the bralette was offering in the first place. Still, your hands instinctively cross over your chest.

"Hey, don’t," Mark murmurs, his hand gently reaching up to move yours, his thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles around your wrist to reassure you. "You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me, Y/N. If you want to stop—”

"No," you interrupt. "I mean, please... I want this... I want you, Mark. I’m just nervous."

His eyes soften at your words, and he licks his lips. "Can I touch you?"

You nod, and his hands steadily, gently travel up and down your stomach, hovering around your sternum before they rest beneath your breasts. You suck in a breath as his touch lingers. "Can I touch you here?" he asks, and again, you nod.

Mark’s hands gently cup your chest, the softness and weight of your tits filling his palms. The pad of his thumb teases over one of your nipples (pretty peaked nipples that are practically begging for his mouth) in a steady rhythm that has you arching into him. He continues, flicking over the sensitive bud until he elicits the reaction he wants: quiet, breathless whimpers and tiny darling moans from your mouth.

“You’re so damn perfect, Y/N,” he mutters, his eyes glued to your body as he tests his touches, watching in awe as your eyes flutter, roll, or widen. “So damn perfect for me.”

You moan, and his head dips to the valley between your breasts, his tongue flicking out to trail a slow, heated path up your skin. His mouth, warm and wet, captures your pebbled nipple, sucking and licking with a hunger that makes your body shiver. It’s then that you remember why Mark is perfect for this—he’s experienced.

“Pretty fucking tits,” he groans, “I’ll fuck these one day. Promise.”

He focuses entirely on your nipples, squeezing your breasts, and you swear you're already on the verge of coming undone for him, writhing beneath him. Terrified it’ll end too soon, your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him away from your chest to capture his lips in a desperate kiss.

His chest hovers over you, so close to you, but still hidden beneath layers of fabric. His jeans, too tight, too impeding. You want to feel him—skin to skin. It’s not fair. You’re lying here in nothing but your underwear, exposed and vulnerable, while he’s still fully dressed—his clothes a frustrating barrier that keeps you from feeling him the way you need to. You can’t stand it anymore.

Your fingers dig into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, desperate to rip it off and close the damn distance. "Mark," you breathe. "Take it off. Please."

“You want it off, huh?” He teases.

You’re beyond patience now, body aching for him. “Yes. I do.”

Mark’s eyes darken at the desperation in your voice. He sits up slightly, pulling away from you just enough to shed his shirt, the fabric tugging over his head and revealing the toned muscles of his chest. You can’t help but watch, your eyes glued to the way his hands move, but he’s taking his damn time. Frustrated, you reach for his belt, but he stops you, his hand brushing yours as he undoes it himself. The sound of it unbuckling makes your breath hitch.

Finally, his jeans slip down, revealing the taut curve of his thighs before he kicks them aside, leaving him in nothing but his black boxers. His bulge is prominent, straining against the tight material, and you swear you can’t take it any longer.

But before you can pounce, before you can touch him and feel him the way you want to, he’s hovering back over you, his body pinning you down, forcing your back flat against the bed.

“So eager, pretty girl,” he muses with a teasing smirk. “But you asked me to teach you, didn’t you? I’m in charge.”

He’s so controlled, so assertive, it sends a flood of need coursing through your body. His hands are back on you, gliding over your now fully exposed body. Well, not entirely exposed—his fingers toy at the edge of your panties, tracing, testing, taunting, as if waiting for your permission. And you’d give him it immediately, only he wants to ride this out, prolong it.

His fingers move to dip just beneath the fabric, but then he stops.

“I know you said you wanted to be good at this, Y/N,” he hums. “But I want to be good for you. Tell me what you like. Tell me how to touch this pretty pussy.”

Heat floods your cheeks and pools between your legs. From the way Mark smiles, and the fact that he’s cupping you through your underwear, you know he can feel it too.

“I-um—”

“I already told you to stop being shy with me, Y/N,” he says. “Don’t think I overlooked that comment about you getting yourself off. You wanna learn, so do I. Let me be a good boy for you.”

Your eyes lock onto his, and you can see the seriousness. He wants to know what makes you tick, what works for you, what gets you off—wants to be the one to do it. His breath hitches as he studies you, chest contracting with focus.

“I-I start with my clit,” you instruct, and his fingers follow suit, finally dipping under the fabric he’s been teasing for the last ten minutes right to the spot. You want to feel embarrassed telling him all the dirty ways you play with yourself, but you can’t. He won’t let you feel that way, because, like you said, he’s him—sweet, loyal Mark.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re dripping for me,” he groans, voice thick with need. “Aching for me, aren’t you, baby?” You nod pathetically. “Then tell me, what do you do to your clit? Teach me.”

“I like small circles,” you whisper, your breath shaky.

“Like this?” he asks, his voice low as he carefully follows your instructions. It’s almost too careful. Too slow. You need more—so much more.

“Faster, Mark.”

His fingers speed up, the circles on your clit growing faster, the pressure he applies intensifies with each stroke. You moan, squirming beneath him, your hips shifting in desperate need for more—more of him.

"Can I try a finger, baby?" he asks, and you nod, wanting everything he has to give right now.

Mark shifts his gaze from your face down to where his hands are stuffed inside your panties. He watches as he trails his index finger up and down your slit slowly until it’s circling around your entrance before finally easing it inside. You gasp, feeling the initial stretch, and his eyes lock back onto yours, waiting for the sting to fade and the lust to take its place again. Once it does, he begins to move, his finger sliding in and out, in and out, faster and faster until your breaths come heavier.

“Mark,” you gasp on a moan, a thrill coursing through you as he picks up the pace.

Mark adds his thumb back to your clit, the combination of his fingers easing in and out of your drenched pussy and the attention to your sensitive nerves send waves of pleasure crashing over you. Because cumming has never felt like this—so close, so quick, so desperately needed. Mark must sense your closeness too because his lips quirk, devilish and taunting.

“You gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?” he asks, but it’s clearly not a question. The cocky bastard knows you are. “Or should I say finger? Think you could handle two?”

Your mind is incoherent from the pleasure, the foreign stretch of his fingers. Any thoughts you have dissolve into a haze of need, only capable of a frantic nodding at him because you want more, need more, need to cum. He eases in his middle finger, both digits slowing down as you adjust to him. Then, the world around you blurs; all that matters is the rhythm of his fingers and the growing knot forming in your stomach as his pace picks up. Each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, and you can feel the waves of your orgasms building, until it finally, deliciously, crashes over you.

Your vision blurs, and sounds you didn't even know you could make slip from your lips. All you can hear is Mark's incoherent, muffled praise—telling you how pretty, how perfect, how good you are for him.

When you come down from your high, he’s watching you intently, his hand running through your hair as you refocus back on him with hazy eyes. You’ve never experienced an orgasm like that, and as you notice the strained bulge in his pants, a surge of eagerness wells up in you. You want to return the favour, to please him, to learn how to be good the way you asked him to twach you.

You reach for his boxers, fingers trembling as you strip them off, revealing the thick hard length of him. Your breath catches at the sight of his cock, angry and needy and desperate. Mark looks down at you with his own haze-induced eyes.

“Please, Y/N.”

The heat radiating from him ignites a fire within you. You take a moment to admire the way he looks at you—hungry, eager. With a newfound confidence, you lean closer, your lips brushing against his skin, ready to give him the pleasure he’s so generously given you. You press soft, delicate kisses to his abdomen, watching as his stomach flexes in response.

You know you probably should suck his cock right now; that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Mark’s fingers clamp around your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to, not yet, not ever if you don’t want to,” he says softly. “But you can touch it. Touch me, Y/N, please.”

That feels more like your speed, so you wrap a firm hand around his cock, giving it a slow, steady long tug. Mark's head rolls back from where he sits on the bed. Your hands tremble with nerves, this is all so new to you, and you desperately want to please him. But before you can overthink it, Mark’s words soothe your insecurities.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “Just like that... so fucking good, Y/N.”

He's like a fucking mind reader, because that one comment, that small ounce of reassurance, has you stroking him faster. Your hand moves in a messy rhythm, feeling the weight of his cock in your palm.

As you continue to stroke him, you start to experiment with different techniques, trying out gentler touches and firmer grips. Mark's reactions are your guide, and you watch as his face contorts in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut as he lets out low groans. He sounds so sexy, you like it, you want more of him like this.

You feel a sense of power, knowing that you're the one bringing him to the edge. Your strokes become more insistent, your hand moving faster as Mark's breathing quickens. You can feel his cock throbbing in your hand, the veins standing out as he gets closer. Mark's body tenses, his muscles straining and that’s when suddenly, his eyes snap open.

“You gotta stop, Y/N,” he growls, his voice low and husky as he pulls your hands off his length. For a moment, you almost feel scorned, but then he adds, “I want to last until I’m at least inside of you...”

You both laugh, Mark's eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckles, and you feel a flutter in your chest. He gently lies you back on his bed, grabbing a pillow and placing it underneath your hips. As he fumbles with his nightstand, he rips open a condom and slides it along his cock. You can't help but watch, mesmerized by the sight. It’s oddly sexy. Your body responds instinctively, your hips arching upwards as if seeking him out.

As Mark positions himself between your legs, his head dips down to kiss you. It’s sweet, like the first time, and you think you could get used to them—you want to get used to them. The feeling of his lips on yours, on your cheek, the top of your head.

When your lips finally break apart, he holds eye contact with you, aligning himself with your pussy. He teases you, brushing against your folds, occasionally grazing your clit—his eyes watching your reaction, a smirk on his lips. Sensitive, he notes. And he has to note because there will be a time for more, a time where he’ll make you work for it. But today isn’t that day. Today is about you and him—together.

“Tap my arm if it’s too much. If you want to stop—”

“Mark,” it’s your turn to be stern now. “Please, just fuck me.”

He smirks, liking this side of you—the impatience, the newfound dirty mouth of yours. Something else to note for next time, he thinks.

Rubbing himself up and down your slit for a final time, Mark presses the head of his cock to your entrance, hips shifting forward to slowly push into you. His nostrils flare, and his teeth clench because he has to be careful, he has to be in control. He cannot—he will not—hurt you any more than he has to.

So, slowly. Torturously slowly. Mark eases into you, inch by tantalizing inch, until his tip coaxes past the small ring of resistance. You’re so tight—so impossibly tight—that he almost regrets letting you jerk him off before hand, because he’s already teetering on the edge of cumming from merely the first few inches. He’s waited far too long for this moment; the last thing he wants is to blow his load before he’s even begun to move.

He shifts his focus from his own pleasure to your face, keenly observing for any signs of discomfort. When he catches the slight scrunch of your nose, he leans down to kiss you, wanting to distract you from the sting of you stretching around his cock for the first time.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. You were made for me.”

He feels your body relax into the mattress at the praise and your hands wrap around his back, pulling him closer. It’s a silent invitation, a clear signal that you’re okay with more—that you need more.

His hips finally press flush against yours, your legs spreading wider to accommodate him, all of him. Your fingers dust up and down his spine as you get used to this, how full you feel, how complete.

“Move, Mark,” you whisper barely above a whisper. “Please.”

And he does. He rolls his hips, pulling out of you completely before sinking back in, slow and sensual. You moan—right into his ear, because he’s buried in your neck—and he nearly loses the last thread of control he’s holding onto. Mark quickens his pace, keeping his body flush against yours—like he needs to be as close as possible. Needs to consume you the same way you’ve consumed him for years.

“Yes, Mark,” you cry, your nails raking down his back, scratching, digging, marking into his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. You have no idea how fucking perfect you are.”

He reaches for your hand, prying it from his back to lace his fingers with yours, pinning them to the mattress. It’s gentle, it’s sweet—it’s so Mark. He fucks you slowly, his hands holding yours as he kisses you. Intimate, tender, and so fucking hot.

You tighten around him, and the squeeze makes something flicker in Mark’s eyes—something determined, something feral.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper between ragged breaths.

“Fuck, yes—please,” he groans. “Cum around my cock, pretty girl. I need it. I want it.”

Hearing him just as desperate, just as needy as you, sends you over the edge. Your lip trembles, your lashes flutter, and then—your second orgasm takes over you, ripping a scream of his name from your throat.

It’s the prettiest thing Mark’s ever seen, ever heard—the best thing he’s ever felt. And he swears this moment will be etched into his memory until the day he dies. He holds you close to his chest as you ride your high, feeling every desperate breath you take, swallowing every moan with wet open mouth kisses. And when he senses you’ve finally come down, he chases his own orgasm—greedy for it, for you.

He becomes ravenous for his own release, his hips pistoning faster, harder, as he drives deeper into you. His breaths come in ragged gasps, his chest contracting as his fingertips anchor your hips in place. With every thrust his cock throbs with an almost unbearable intensity until he lets out a low, guttural groan, his body shuddering with pleasure.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers your name, over and over again, like a mantra and he spills inside of the condom.

The room fills with a silence, punctuated only by the sound of your mingled breaths as he comes down. Your hands are still entwined, hearts still racing, and you both can’t do anything but look at each other. Eventually, Mark leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling away. He eases out of you, removes the condom, and tosses it into the nearby trash can.

You watch him as he moves, and when he turns back to you—his gaze a mix of awe and satisfaction—you can’t help but smile.

“You know when I said I loved you platonically?” you ask, and his brows knit together. He looks like he’s about to have a full-blown panic attack, so you quickly put him at ease. “I lied. I actually just love you.”

Relief washes over his face before it melts into a smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Good. Because, I love you too. Always have.”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #mark lee x reader #nct scenarios #nct hard hours #kpop smut #nct oneshot

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hyckstarz · 2 months ago

Text

✧˚.🎀⋆ calling 999 | n.jm .☘︎ ݁˖

pairing. popular!jaemin x gloomy!reader ♡︎.��

word count. 9.9k

genre. fluff · slow burn · humour · smut

synopsis. she swears he's the most infuriatingly, sparkly person around — too bright and positively suffocating. But for Jaemin? He's intrigued by her; the gloomy princess frog who he wishes to befriend.

warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, use of pet name (baby, cutie, etc.), unprotected sex, almost getting caught, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, really fluffy.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ A/N: the speed in which I got this out was crazy. I also wanted to thank all of you guys for the love, I'm quite the perfectionist when it comes to my writing, but seeing how well they've been received so far makes me incredibly happy. ily all 💞

Na Jaemin was the heartthrob. If someone plucked him out of a drama, it would be Boys Over Flowers — except he was the flower. Everything about him was charming, endearing, and effervescent. It was almost blinding. Sickening. She'd place bets he threw up rainbows and unicorns, no doubt consuming Lucky Charms sprinkled with stardust for breakfast.

Which is exactly why she avoided him like the plague.

She was an irritable shadow, afraid of being incinerated and consumed by the ebullient sun. Always grumbling and scowling whenever she came into the vicinity of his stupidly wide, toothy grin, paired with that obnoxiously loud laugh.

"You're stabbing at your food," a soft, amused voice cut through the loud chatter of the cafeteria, "Should I be worried that you're also giving me the death glare?"

Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him. She hated how well he held eye-contact, and she wasn't going to lose the little battles before the war. So, she sends him a scowl as a response, her dark, frizzy hair puffing up like a lion's mane.

Jaemin was intrigued by her. She was the only person who would never smile back, never say anything more than a few words to him. As if dealing with him, or people in general, sucked out her limited supply of energy.

Jaemin sits down next to her, his arm brushing against hers with the protection of her thick, knit sweater, "We're supposed to choose our pairs for the science project, wanna work together?"

She let out a scoff, side-eyeing him for the sheer audacity of asking something so absurd, "No," She replies flatly, munching on her cafeteria food that suddenly tasted like slop in his presence.

He raised an amused brow, smile never faltering. Honestly, she would pay good money to see him not smiling for once, "Come on, why not? You're smart and I'm... kinda smart. We'd make a good team! I've even come up with possible names for our duo," he clears his throat as if preparing a proposal for Shark Tank, "sun and moon, yin and yang, Princess and The Frog..."

"Princess?" She scoffs.

"Yeah, I'll be the princess and you can be the fro-," she grumbles under her breath, standing up with her tray and moving to another empty table. Jaemin was unfazed, unfortunately, and followed her casually as if she'd asked to move together.

"Stop following me," Y/N huffed, nestling into her purple sweater as she continued to stab at her food. She could see Jaemin's group of friends watching like vigilant vultures from the corner of her eye.

Haechan, the cocky, intimidating star student — or would be star student if he weren't so lazy. Chenle, the real crazy rich Asian, often coming to school with something designer. And Renjun, the angry artist who she often wondered how he fit in such a group, being as he seemed like the only normal person there.

She could almost hear their judgment, confused on why Jaemin spent almost every lunchtime circling around the grouchy loner.

Jaemin chuckled, slotting into the chair next to her, to which she nudged her chair to the side, trying to get as far away from him as physically possible, even down to the atoms, "it's either I work with you or Jisung... and I don't want to work with him."

Her eyes met his, glaring in a way Jaemin would call cute, strangely, "Not my problem."

Jaemin pokes at her arm, giggling when she jumps, startled, "But whyyy. That guy would be scared at the sight of a bunsen burner, that's not even on, mind you."

"Again, not my problem."

Jaemin pouted, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he let his soft gaze flick over her features. He had a horrible habit of keeping his eyes locked on people's lips, even more so when they spoke. But, from up close, his appearance matched the mix of a doe and a rabbit with his long, fluttering lashes and big, round eyes.

She hated deers and rabbits.

"Would it be your problem if we were friends?" Jaemin asked suddenly. Everything about his voice to his gaze were genuine. He meant every word, and that scared her.

She froze, grip tightening on her cutlery as she slowly met his watching eyes, "Friends?"

"Friends," Jaemin added, "I want us to be friends. You're nice."

She snorted. For the first time, she actually made a sound close enough to be a laugh and Jaemin, startled, looked at her like a deer caught in headlights. As if a UFO had landed right in front of him and aliens stepped out wearing chicken suits, "You're delusional."

"Delusional or not, I made you laugh. Even more of a reason for us to be friends, I'm a good influence on you," Jaemin teased. Immediately, her expression faltered.

The sun was obnoxiously loud, and infuriatingly cocky.

The sun was, indeed, loud.

When she woke up this morning, she never would have guessed how horrible today would be. Not until Jaemin raised his hand incredibly high and chirped to the science teacher, "Y/N and I would like to be partners!"

If looks could kill, Jaemin would be shot dead on Earth, stopped before he got to the pearly white gates; his soul extracted into a minuscule bottle, crushed and thrown into the deepest, tenebrous voids before he even had a chance at getting reincarnated.

She sighed, loudly. She could hear people whispering, their watchful gaze flicking between the pair. Jaemin was as smiley as ever, his eyes little crescents as he skipped over to her, flower petals trailing behind him like some spring-happy leprechaun.

Y/N placed her bag on the one free seat next to her, and Jaemin pouted just as he got to her table, "Hey, is that how you treat your partner?"

She couldn't even spare him a glance, not with her seething, "I told you, I didn't want to be your partner."

Jaemin shrugs, placing his books on the table and pulls out a separate chair to sit in front of her — all without complaint or a twitching smile. He could tell she was mad at him, he wasn't a fool. Usually, she'd be boring burning hot holes into his skin with her piercing glare, though now, she kept her eyes on her science book, not sparing him a glance.

He was cautious with his movements, watching her as he sat right in front, just close enough to smell the soft hint of lavender from her jumper. He didn't want to scare her off or build the tension further so, he did the next best thing he could think of.

Digging into his bag, he pulls out his phone and wired earphones, ones he carried with him for years. It was to anyone's amazement how they lasted so long. He scrolls through his playlist, trying to find anything that was calming enough and, when he does, he grins to himself, leaning over to place one bud into her ear.

Her eyes snapped to his, his finger still pressed to the earbud to stop her from snatching it out so quickly, but that meant he was closer than he had ever been. She couldn't help but to notice those dark eyes that reflected the glittering ceiling lights as his warm, gentle and hesitant breath brushed her dewy skin, "What are you-"

"Just... I know you don't want to talk to me right now so, let's listen to some music together. Just this once," his smile was softer now, eyes trained on her with a hint of nervousness.

When Jaemin realised she wasn't making a move to yank the earphones out, he slowly retracted his hand, letting the music play. Surprisingly, the song was calming and sweet — a stark contrast to the energiser bunny who sat in front of her, grinning like a madman just at her tolerating his presence.

Jaemin confused her. She couldn't understand how someone could be so... sunshine and rainbows. Just looking at him was exhausting, feeling the corners of her lips burn at the simple thought of grinning twenty four hours of every day. He may as well have had more muscles on his lips than she had in her arms.

"You're always smiling," she mutters, scribbling random doodles into her science book, not caring if it affects the presentation. She felt herself calming a little from the music alone.

Jaemin nods slowly, looking through their worksheet for the experiment they had to do over the course of the week, "Is that a bad thing?"

It felt like that question alone stumped her. It wasn't that smiling was a bad thing, but with Jaemin, it always felt forced — maintaining the good boy image. She scoffs lightly, "It's annoying."

He only laughs at that, leaning in closer as his voice turns to a whisper, "So, if I smiled less, you'd tolerate me more?"

Her confused look had Jaemin smiling at her like a fool, trying to see how far he could push as he pulled away, "Tolerate me enough to become friends, I mean. You didn't give me an answer yesterday either."

"Thought it was an obvious no," she takes the spare worksheet and starts filling in the equipment they'd need and the correct order of steps.

Jaemin lets out a sudden, obnoxiously loud "wow" at the sight of the work she had done in a mere five minutes. He snatches it from the desk, his thumbs digging into the edges of the paper as he held it up in amazement, lips puckered in an exaggerated 'O', before his gaze flicked to her, always searching for a hint of a reaction, "I don't think we will need a whole week to get this experiment done. At least, not with you as my partner."

"Don't get used to it. You're pulling your own weight for this project," Y/N mumbles, snatching the worksheet out of his hands, her fingers brushing his in the process. She flinches slightly at the contact, and Jaemin doesn't let it slide, his smile sneakily widening.

"Well too late. I'm already naming my future children after you."

She stares at him with a deadpanned expression, "You're so weird."

"Thank you," he beams.

There's a long silence after that. She quietly observes Jaemin, whose lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, smile softening as he chooses another song on his playlist, humming along to it. Then, her gaze drops to the paper again.

"Are you serious about being friends?" she asks softly, not looking up, voice so low he almost doesn't hear it.

He stops humming, "Yeah, I am."

Y/N finally looks up, and Jaemin's not smiling this time, clearly serious.

She considers it. Actually weighs the pros and cons of being friends with the sun which, if she hadn't known any better, would only repeat Icarus' story, where her wax wings would melt if she got too close, "Don't expect me to tell you my favourite colour or make friendship bracelets out of loom bands with you."

Jaemin's smile slowly returns, as if he's waiting for her to change her mind, "That's okay, you can start by telling me what you hate most about me."

She snorts, "As if there's enough time for that in a day."

"Perfect," he sends her his classic toothy grin, "Guess I have more of an excuse to hang around you for longer, then."

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, illuminating the multi-coloured shelves filled with snacks and bold coloured stickers with deals peppered along the products. It had smelled faintly of overripe bananas, cheap detergent, and air freshener — the familiar scent of your standard convenience stores. Jaemin had wandered the snack aisle on a lazy evening, indecisively scouring the 2-for-1 promotions. He was low on energy after spending the whole afternoon playing football against his will. Though, he was somewhat grateful it wasn't basketball this time, thanks to Chenle going on some last minute holiday.

All thoughts screeched to a halt while he was scanning for some snacks, seeing her behind the till. She wore the stores' basic, bright blue apron, the collar of the white undershirt slightly crooked, and an upside-down name tag pinned to her chest which gave more than enough away that she was in a rush to get to her shift. But most of all, she was smiling at the elderly woman in front of her, offering a genuine laugh when the lady made a joke he could barely make out.

Her laugh was so pretty to him. Despite it being awkward, tethering on deep yet with a sweet lilt... It was so unique, so adorable and something he wished he could hear over and over again, like a broken record.

He couldn't get over that smile, either. It brightened up her face and made her even more gorgeous than she already was. His eyes were locked on the soft and slightly shy grin, tugging up on one side. He had never seen her like that before, but he was already obsessed, his heart clenching as a sudden cuteness aggression overcame him.

The moment she noticed him walking towards the register with a basket of snacks, however, her expression had snapped back into its usual stormy cloud, the corners of her lips sinking into a scowl. Jaemin stifled a laugh as he set his snacks down on the counter.

"Hey," he whined, yet his voice was as bright and sunny as always, "I'm a customer too, where's my smile?"

"What are you doing here, Jaemin?" she grumbled, already scanning the items with speedy efficiency, clearly wanting to get rid of him.

"I came to see you," He let the sentence hang just long enough between them before correcting himself, "Actually... I just wanted some snacks."

She glanced at the box of Lucky Charms he placed on the counter —bright and completely childlike, just like him. She blinked before letting out a soft giggle, the sound barely audible, but loud enough for Jaemin to catch it. He felt butterflies going haywire in the pits of his stomach.

"You seriously eat this shi- stuff?"

"Religiously," he replied, smirking, "I'm convinced it really is sprinkled with some magical form of luck."

"Oh yeah, and what have you been lucky with?" she muttered, slipping the items into a plastic bag.

"You," he added with a grin. There was no hesitation in the way he had said it, especially with that stupid, shit-eating grin and the mischievous light in his eyes. But she forced her expression to remain neutral, even when a string of curses sat on the tip of her tongue.

The occasional beep of items being scanned and the quiet chatter of the other customers in the back had filled the silence between them. Jaemin leaned back and forth, raising an amused brow at her, cocky from having gotten to her in some way.

"I didn't know you worked here," he said finally, trying to fill in the silence and not wanting this moment with her to end so soon.

Y/N shrugged, adjusting the strap of her apron as she suddenly started to feel awkward, "It's... just part-time. Pays for things like snacks. But I never get to eat them because I have to smile at people like you all day."

He grinned wider, ignoring her slight jab, "So you do smile."

"God, you're annoying," she groans, packing the last of the items and gesturing to the till for him to pay.

Jaemin only smirks wider, tapping his card until a beep resounded in the shop, "And you're blushing."

"I am not-"

"Oh, you definitely are, but this would surely make you blush more...," He leans in, grabbing the plastic bag out of her hands, fingers barely brushing, as he whispered against the shell of her ear, "you're cuter when you smile."

Her hands stilled slightly as she let go of the bag as if they were opposites on either side of a magnet.

He held her gaze for a moment, before pulling away, "Thanks for the snacks."

"Don't come here again," Y/N grumbled.

Jaemin stepped back towards the automatic doors which kept trying to close, blocking the path of some customers as he smiled like a fool at her, as usual. She hated how he made her feel in this moment, and she could swear her heart had beat louder than the generic pop music which played in the shop. Maybe she would blame the fact that he was someone who does eat lucky charms. But his next words cut through her thoughts as he stifled a laugh before leaving, "No promises, cutie."

And, for some strange reason, that word didn't make her internally gag.

The cafeteria was in a state of a mess; chaotic noise and clattering trays, loud, overlapping conversations, and the sharp screeching of metal chairs. The air had smelt faintly of overcooked pasta and whatever they had tried to pass off as food today — what students would call radioactive slop. But not one table was as loud as the one Jaemin was sat on with his friends.

"I'm telling you, she's the cutest girl around. Like- Haechan, stop laughing, I'm being serious!" Jaemin glares daggers at the male who was barely keeping still on his chair.

"Yeah, I bet. I'd also bet she hexed you," Haechan, who sat across from Jaemin, wipes away a stray tear, followed by a sigh as he calmed down from his burst of laughter.

Renjun sat next to Haechan, nudging him with the pristine sleeve of his blazer. He had always kept a clean-cut appearance where not even a tiny drop of paint ever landed on his attire, "If Jaemin likes her, who cares? I will be judging though, but from the sidelines."

Jaemin grumbles, pushing his half-eaten tray away from him as he crossed his arms, "You guys are assholes. What happened to being happy for me?"

Chenle chirps in, glancing at the woman who was the focus of their conversation sat a few tables down on her own. He jabs a finger into the table, a classic Chenle move whenever he had a 'valid' point to make, eyebrows raised with passion, "You guys are like... the complete opposites of each other. She would definitely steal all your light. Well- on second thought, that's probably a good thing, maybe you'd finally be somewhat bearable to be around."

Jaemin rolls his eyes, stuffing a spoonful of rice and munching it in irritation, "Look, if you actually spoke to her, you'd see that there is more to her. She actually smiles too, and it's so adorable, plus-" Haechan side-eyes Jaemin; partly for speaking with a mouthful of food, and the other for simping over her of all people, "Don't tell me you're already pussy-whipped when you've only spoken to her once."

Jaemin's mouth drops in shock, "Once?! I've spoken to her like... three, four times?"

Haechan snorts, resting his hands behind his head, sprawling lazily out on the chair, "Might as well have been once. You can count it on one hand. You barely know her."

"Well, I know her better than you guys do, so why are we judging so hard?" Jaemin snaps, and his friends suddenly grow silent and tense. It was unlike the usually sunny male to get angry or irritated. His jaw was clenched as he dropped his metal chopsticks on the tray, the clatter loud.

Renjun clears his throat awkwardly, looking around the table, his brows furrowed softly as he met Jaemin's gaze, "You... do know why everyone avoids her though, don't you?"

Jaemin pauses, eyes flicking to his friend. Something in Renjun's tone makes the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, the tension, paired with worry, simmering.

"What do you mean?" he asks suspiciously, his voice quiet and brows furrowing.

Renjun shifts in his seat, shrugging, "Just… she's not exactly friendly. People say she snapped at teachers, ditched group projects, cursed out that senior last year-"

"She cursed at him because he was mocking her in front of everyone," Jaemin cuts in sharply, his leg bouncing under the table in frustration, "And the group projects... Maybe no one ever wanted to work with her. She had always been a target of stupid jokes. Besides, how is any of that a big deal?"

The table falls quiet again and Chenle raises a brow and puts his hands up in surrender, trying to lighten the mood, "Okay, damn. Someone is ready to fight for her honour."

Jaemin huffs, "No- Look I'm just saying... people love to talk. Don't you think she's just tired of all these assholes?"

Haechan whistles lowly, "Okay, our knight in shining armour, should we start planning the wedding?"

"Shut up," Jaemin mutters, his cheeks flushed pink, "I already did."

The lab was meant to be quiet except, Jaemin was being clumsy with the equipment. The glass beakers kept clinking against each other, and it was surprising how they hadn't smashed into pieces with his large hands. It was only them in the lab, away from the bustling lunch hall, and it was supposed to be them finishing off the experiment before they had to type up their conclusions. However, working with Jaemin was proving to be a separate challenge.

Y/N tugged her sleeves up her arms in frustration as she kept glaring at him and giving him orders. But Jaemin found her to appear less reserved when she wasn't surrounded by others — still sharp around the cute edges, but not enough to make a man cower.

"Put the beaker down slowly," she said, eyeing the glass nervously as Jaemin finished pouring the solution into a separate beaker, "I swear to God if you shatter another one-"

"Relax," Jaemin chuckled, mocking offence as he set it down with exaggerated grace, gesturing to it in celebration. She forgot he had arms that could squash a coconut in one go, panicking at the sight of him handling fragile equipment. But his cockiness worried her even further, "I have the hands of a pianist."

She side-eyed him with a slight look of surprise, "You play the piano?"

"No, but I could," he wiggles his fingers, "with these sexy hands."

She rolled her eyes, but he caught the subtle twitch of her lips before she turned away to fetch the other materials.

They had been measuring and watching the colours blend in the beaker, creating an... interesting solution. He watched her scribble something in the worksheet, noticing her handwriting was messier than he'd expected. It had kept changing its font, far from the consistent and neat image she had presented as, at least, with her personality. His eyes trailed to her frizzy hair that added an adorable, messy look to her, like his favourite character from UP, Ellie.

"You're staring," she mumbled, her pen tapping the edge of the paper in annoyance.

"Just admiring your handwriting," Jaemin teased, leaning slightly closer, glancing to her writing again, "It looks like five different people wrote that."

"Want to lose the ability to smile?"

He chuckled, watching as she moved to hold a pipette above one of the mixtures, "Are you going to start writing the conclusion, or should I do everything?"

Jaemin snapped back to reality, side stepping to grab the worksheet and immediately tapping the pencil to his cheek in thought, "Right, conclusion," he frowned when nothing came to mind, "Something something… mixture."

Y/N slowly turned to face him, "Very insightful," she deadpanned.

He didn't miss the tiniest curve of her mouth again and, God, even when she stifled a smile, it would still hit like a punch to the gut. He was starting to think maybe she was right to hide it as people would be drawn to her like the North Star. And now, it was starting to feel like it was a sight only he was allowed to see.

"You say that like it's not the best conclusion you have ever heard," Jaemin added, pressing the pencil to his lip smugly.

She sighed, snatching the worksheet from him without a word and scribbling a few lines with a quiet confidence that made him raise a brow. Her writing was still chaotic, unlike her thoughts.

He leaned in slightly to peek over at what she wrote, but she folded the paper away from his view like it was a personal diary.

"Do you mind?" she muttered in exasperation.

"Yes," he replied without hesitation, resting his chin on her shoulder to take a better look at the mysterious writing.

Y/N stiffened, her breath hitched as she stayed frozen. It was insane to her how good he smelt, the way her heart stuttered, and the soft weight of him on her shoulder felt... right. She almost let out a loud scoff at her own thoughts before elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

Jaemin let out a dramatic gasp, rubbing the spot with an exaggerated pout, "Excuse me, assault in a science lab full of lethal equipment is a criminal offence!"

"You were in my space."

"It was our space," he mumbled, still rubbing his side, "I would argue we have dual ownership over this lab."

She tongued the inside of her cheek and shoved the worksheet in his direction, "I don't see your name on this paper, Jaemin."

He smirked, feeling his own heart blush at the way his name sounded on her lips, and grabbed the paper, scribbling Na Jaemin (Princess) in the top corner, and (cute frog) next to her name. When he handed it back to her, she glanced at the names, then at him, and rolled her eyes at his silliness.

"Anyway," his voice filled the quiet room, eyes glancing away to look at the clock, seeing they only had a few minutes till the end of lunch, "I think we did a pretty decent job, we should celebrate getting this project done."

She looked up his taller form in confusion, "Celebrate?"

Jaemin nodded, "Yeah, I'll bring you a snack tomorrow, something sweet, so that you forget about annihilating me for barely carrying this project."

She sent him a scowl in response, "And what makes you think I like sweet things?"

He grinned cheekily, packing away the equipment, "You like me, don't you?"

Y/N was convinced Jaemin had hit his head in the past month, especially with all the shit he was spewing. But she couldn't stop the small smile that lifted the corners of her lips, immediately dropping the second she had realised, and Jaemin's eyes widened at the sight. His heart was going haywire. She had finally smiled in his presence, because of him.

"You really do look cute when you smile," he grinned at her, slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking almost entranced by her, "I'm glad I'm the only one who gets to see it."

She snorts, packing her things away as well, "Well, I'd rather you not smile. It's exhausting."

Jaemin smirks, nodding his head, "Okay, I won't!"

He exaggerates a silly-looking scowl, humming at the same time, "Is that better?"

Y/N lets out a disbelieving scoff, eyeing him in what seemed like amusement, "Somehow... that's much worse."

It had been three days. Three days of Jaemin leaving snacks on her desk like some overly enthusiastic snack fairy with too much free time in the crackhead hours of the morning — throwing coins on snacks she hadn't asked for.

He had brought strawberry pocky the first day (what he would call an abomination in a box), Hello Panda's the next, and today? Banana milk — in this obnoxiously bright yellow carton, with the straw poked in. He called it a "romantic gesture".

Y/N stared at the carton on her desk, the happy face of the banana staring right back into her soul. Her brows had furrowed as Jaemin plopped himself into the seat beside her with his usual beaming aura.

"You're welcome," he said with a grin, chin propped up on his hand as he watched her with hearts in his eyes.

"I don't remember saying thank you," she replied blandly, but her fingers still curled around the carton like a stress ball.

Jaemin tilted his head, nodding in agreement, "I know, but you did drink the last two, so... it seems like you do appreciate the gifts, or me. Or both."

"And it seems like," she echoed with a deadpanned expression, "you're annoying. Unsurprisingly."

"Are you waiting for some kind of an applause?" she continued when he didn't make a move to leave, taking another sip of the banana milk.

Jaemin shrugged, never taking his eyes off of her, even as other students around looked on in confusion, "Yes, actually. I deserve a standing ovation. I had brought you peace offerings three days in a row, that's equivalent to a committed relationship."

"You're clinically insane," she shakes her head, scanning over her notes.

"Clinically sexy, you mean," he corrected, wagging his brows, his voice exaggerated loudly.

She let out a long, exhausted sigh that sounded like it came from the pits of her stomach, the kind of sigh only Jaemin could evoke. However, silence had then settled between them again. This time, it was peaceful.

For once, Jaemin wasn't rambling silly little lines, openly flirting with her, or laughing gratingly loud. Instead, he was sitting there, occasionally stealing glances at her while she pretended not to notice. Then, out of nowhere, the words that had left Jaemin's lips gave her whiplash, paired with how casually he had said them.

"Wanna hang out this weekend?"

Y/N's pen slid across the page in shock, her head turning slowly, and suspiciously, like he had just asked her to help him bury a body, "Hang out?"

Jaemin shrugged, "Just thought we could do something, you know, outside of science experiments and this God-forsaken building."

She stared at him blankly for a moment longer before replying, "I'm busy."

"You don't even know what day I meant," Jaemin pouted, throwing rubber shavings her way, playfully.

"I'm busy that day too."

Jaemin smiled, unfazed, "Just know, I'm persistent."

"You mean annoying," she corrected.

He laughed under his breath, leaning back in his seat. "You'll say yes eventually."

"Not likely."

"We'll see."

She did end up saying yes.

When Friday afternoon came rolling in, and he caught up to her outside the school gates with another (peace offering) drink in hand, a grape-flavoured juice, he sent her a hopeful look with his lashes fluttering like the princess he claimed he was.

The weather carried a gentle breeze as the sun formed a subtle halo over the brunette male, making him appear even more angelic than he already was. His dark eyes were softer under the afternoon glow, and his smile felt like spring. Y/N didn't know why things were suddenly changing. Why her thoughts were becoming brighter and warmer in his presence. It was like he had merged into her life as though he had always belonged there, and she couldn't help but to give in.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. One hour."

Jaemin blinked, surprise etching into his features, "Wait- what?"

"I'll hang out with you," she clarified, crossing her arms and looking off to the side as if she were an older sibling giving into the younger's request, "For an hour. And I'm not doing anything cheesy. If you take me anywhere with fairy lights or those photo booths, I will walk into on-coming traffic."

Jaemin burst into a fit of laughter, barely containing the smile stretching across his face, "You're the one who said yes."

"God," she grumbled, turning to walk ahead, not even waiting for him, "I'm already regretting this."

"No take backs!" He chirped as he caught up to her, grinning like he had won the lottery, "You'll regret it a lot less once you see what I had planned."

She stopped in her tracks, head snapping to him in shock. Not once had she hinted in agreeing to hang out with him, and yet, he had still put in the effort to plan something that wasn't guaranteed. Just because he wanted to make it something special.

"You planned it already?" She asked, eyeing him suspiciously, "And why does that sound like a threat?"

"It's not! It's a promise," he beamed, "And of course I planned it. I knew you were going to agree. I mean, how could you say no to this face?"

He cupped his cheeks and batted his lashes at her. Usually, this would have been something that would instantly make her cringe yet, this time, it was so... Jaemin. So silly and adorably him. It gave her this sense of ease, as though it was alright for her to be just as silly, just as out there as he was. Despite what others may think.

However, Y/N gave him a long, stern look, unimpressed, "You are dangerously close to being punched in the throat."

Jaemin gasped, holding his arms up in defence, "Violence on our first date?"

"It is not a date," she said instantly, her voice a slight screech, feigning a scowl. Her heart was thumping erratically. A date? It was only a month ago when Jaemin had asked to be friends, but the spring-happy leprechaun wouldn't settle on just friends. Not with her.

"Sure it's not," he replied sarcastically, bumping his shoulder into hers. He watched as her teeth bit into the straw of the grape juice, lips puckering as she took a sip. God, he really was down bad.

"So, where exactly are we going?" she asked, interrupting his far from innocent thoughts.

Jaemin's smile twitched, internally cursing himself for getting carried away like that, "Somewhere where you can't walk into traffic."

She groaned, "Great. I can't escape by death."

Jaemin grinned, tugging at her sleeve lightly, "Nah, you're gonna fall."

"Fall?"

"For me," he replied smugly, wiggling his brows.

She stared at him long enough to make him shift slightly. He should have known corny, cheesy, unoriginal pick-up lines would never work on her, "…I changed my mind. Half an hour."

"I bet you're already falling for me," He continued to tease, gently poking at her sides and snickering at her annoyed expression.

"Keep talking and it'll be ten minutes."

He shut his mouth immediately, but the grin on his face didn't fade for even a second. Of course it wouldn't.

He had led her further down the quiet streets just beyond the school, the buzz of the busy roads echoing behind them. Suddenly, he turned into a narrow, sketchy pathway covered by dark walls and patched up windows.

"Okay, where the hell are we going?"

"You'll see, just trust me," Jaemin chirped, hopping over a puddle with the appearance of someone who probably believed in elves and the tooth fairy.

Y/N eyed the side of his face, as if analysing him, "You're like a golden retriever, and I don't mean that in a good way," she said, her tone dry, "Do you have this much energy even when you're in bed?"

Jaemin didn't miss a second, his lips curling into a smirk, "Depends who's in bed with me."

Y/N blinked, nearly choking on the last bit of juice, "You're disgusting."

"What?" he asked innocently, raising both hands in mock surrender, "You asked."

"And shameless," she muttered.

"And you're blushing," he shot back smugly.

She turned away quickly, muttering curses under her breath. The worst part was that he wasn't wrong… she was blushing.

However, when the path opened up to a skatepark, she was about to turn and walk in the opposite direction, until she saw a building to the right.

It was a planetarium, nestled at the far end of the park, hidden behind torn fences and overgrown trees, clearly abandoned. The soft, spring breeze weaved through the cracked windows and rustling dead leaves across the ground, making her anxious. It was silent, apart from the sharp creak of the iron gate as Jaemin kicked it open dramatically, letting her enter first.

"You're trespassing...," Y/N said nervously, yet still stepped past the gate.

"We are," Jaemin corrected, grinning as he didn't bother to shut the gate behind them, "You agreed to this, remember?"

She rolled her eyes, "I was coerced by grape juice."

Inside the planetarium was dark, where glimpses of sunlight flickered through the cracks of the walls. The air was coated in dust and old wood, the scent sharp in her throat — particles floated just like the glimmer of stars on the ceiling. The projector had sat in the centre, the lens still intact despite it rusting and coated in crumbling leaves and spider webs. But there was something almost... magical about this place, as though it carried many stories — a history.

"I used to come here a lot as a child," Jaemin said, his voice softer now, with a hint of nostalgia, "My dad used to work nearby, and he would take me after school sometimes. I mean... I loved the stars, it always intrigued me. I would just lie down right here and pretend they were real."

He lays down right in the middle of the dome, a softer, more pained smile gracing his lips as he saw the now faded stars that didn't seem to hold the same wonder it used to, "There was something so..."

"Magical," she voiced out her earlier thoughts, hesitantly laying down next to him.

He glanced over to see her looking up at the dimmed ceiling, the setting sun catching across her soft, pretty features, illuminating the curve of her cheekbone and the plushness of her lips. She looked oddly beautiful here, even in this run-down, shabby space. It was like she brought that same wonder back with just her presence alone.

"So this was your idea of a perfect date?" she asked finally, but her voice was gentle, tugging at his heartstrings.

"It's peaceful and there are no fairy lights in sight," he teased, "Besides, you'll ruin my date rating if you start judging my choices."

They lay in silence for a while, staring up at a ceiling that once reflected galaxies. Now, the real stars peeked through the gaps as the sun had finally set, fragmented and imperfect, fitting in like puzzle pieces against the fabricated lights.

"You asked me before if I ever stop smiling," Jaemin says, quietly, his eyes locked on the ceiling. He lies still under the watching gaze of the fading stars, "Just... when no one is around."

He lets out a breath that almost sounds like a bitter laugh, not reaching the crinkles of his eyes, "I think somewhere along the line, I decided that being the overly positive guy was who I was meant to be. If I kept people distracted by this- this image, no one would look close enough to see all the fragmented pieces. I wouldn't be a burden to others."

Y/N said nothing, biting her bottom lip.

"Sometimes it feels like… if I were to drop this act, people wouldn't know what to do with me," He turns his head slightly towards her, letting out a dry chuckle, "That I would be a handful. I'd come with all the baggage that overwhelms them."

Y/N felt her eyes glaze with tears, the brittle air pressing against her chest that made it feel almost suffocating. She hated how much she related to those words alone.

She shifts slightly on the cold floor, trying to make her voice sound neutral, "That sounds exhausting."

"I guess it is," Jaemin admits.

"I do understand, though," she responds, glancing at him, "With keeping up that image."

Her voice doesn't waver, but it had always been hard for her to be vulnerable as she never had the chance to with her own family, "It's weird. One day, conversation is easy, people are approachable and..."

He listens, his brows furrowing in focus.

"Being strong for everyone else meant having to lose a part of myself," She exhales shakily, her nails digging crescents into her palms, "And after a while, I stopped feeling like me. Now, it's like I'm just a shell and pushing people away is easier. You don't get hurt again."

Jaemin's fingers inch closer to her, his knuckles brushing along her hand and, when her pinky hooks around his, he can't help but to smile softly.

"Even so... I don't hate being around people," she whispers, "I don't hate being around you."

He feels his heart skip a beat and his eyes widen slightly when her soft gaze meets his. It was like he got a glimpse into the warmth beneath the grumbling girl, the gentle side of her that hid behind the protective wall. Her usual glaring, intense gaze was now soft and sweet, pupils big as they reflected the starry sky in them, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

Jaemin quickly snaps his head away, bringing a hand over his mouth, hiding his flustered smile, "This is dangerous," he mumbles to himself. Every moment he spent with her was making it harder for him to be normal, not with his body getting hot, and her pretty eyes that watched him curiously.

"What's dangerous?" She asks, confused.

"You, Y/N," he breathes, meeting her gaze again, "you don't understand just how gorgeous you are, how you look at me like that and... the fact that you really are someone so warm and funny and smart. And there is so much more to you that I-"

He chuckled nervously, interlocking his hand with hers more boldly, "I love that you're different. That you trusted me enough to share a piece of yourself. I also want to be someone who would take away all the burdens you've been carrying. To help fill your cup with you, because you're perfect to me, and I want you to see that too."

"But why? You barely know me," she asked quietly.

"Because it's you. But also... do we even need a reason? I just want to."

Her heart beats loud in her ears and tears finally fall, startling Jaemin as he began to panic, worried he may have overstepped in some way. However, it felt like those were words she needed to hear, even if it were just scratching the surface of understanding her, and her understanding him. It felt like she had finally met someone who could. Who would try.

"Jaemin," she calls out to him, and he blinks in response just as she leans in before she could think. Before she could stop herself.

Y/N's lips press to his softly. It was hesitant and shy, but it felt right. Slowly, her fingers cup his jaw and Jaemin pauses. He had waited for this moment, waited for when he could finally get through the protective wall she built around herself. She pulls away and he immediately pulls her back in.

When her lips meet his again, it's messier, with her running her fingers through his hair, parting her lips to mould with his. He feels the urgency in her hands, and he lets out a quiet groan when she climbs onto his lap, knees on either side of his hips, yet never breaking the kiss.

Jaemin's palms settle at her waist, rubbing slow circles on her skin. He tries to control the pace, kissing her back slower, patiently, as he pulls away to catch his breath, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Let me-" his voice is breathy and hoarse; chest heaving, "Let me take my time with you, Y/N. Please."

When her eyes search his, he continues with a softer tone, "You deserve as much."

She leans forward again, kissing him slow.

His hands curl over the back of her neck, the other still cupping her waist, pulling her in a little closer. It feels different this time, gentle and tender. Their mouths move quietly under the witness of the stars, like they're both trying to memorise what the other feels like.

Jaemin sighs softly against her lips when she subtly grinds against him, and he rests his forehead against hers.

"You don't have to rush anything with me, Y/N," he murmurs, "I'm not going anywhere."

"But I want this," she bites her lip, looking down at him. And that's all it takes for him to want to give in and give her everything she wants.

Jaemin's lips trail to her jaw, then down her neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses that make her heart flutter wildly. She whispers his name and he flips their positions so that she was under him now. His body hovers just above hers, brushing strands of her hair from her face.

He kisses her again, slowly at first, but the kiss deepens with each second. His hands slip beneath her soft jumper, fingers tracing along her waist and brushing just under the curve of her breast.

She arches into his touch when he cups her bra-clad breast, thumb swiping over her nipple. Her skin was warm and soft, paired with her sweet gasps, and he couldn't hold back any longer, pushing the jumper off of her.

"How could someone be so beautiful," he breathes out, his soft eyes delicately tracing over her frame as the subtle light of the moon hugged her skin. Her cheeks were flushed at the way he looked at her and, before she could feel any more shy, he connected his lips with hers again; tongue tracing the seam whilst his hands slipped under the lace, massaging her supple mounds.

Y/N tugged at his own hoodie, whining softly against his lips, to which he chuckled, sitting back to pull it off of him, not forgetting to place the clothing under her when he realised she was laying on the icy marble floor. Her cold, slender fingers cupped his jaw, trailing down his chest. It all felt unreal to the both of them; this moment under the stars. It was as though, under the moonlight, was her world. A glimpse into her inner warmth.

Soon, her jeans followed, his warm breath fanning against her inner thighs as his lips ghosted over the skin. He pressed gentle kisses slowly up, thumb finally grazing over her clothed clit which elicited a quiet moan from her. The moment he tugged her panties to the side, she knew what was coming and immediately gripped onto his hair in anticipation.

Jaemin's tongue licked a thick stripe up her folds and she shuddered. But he didn't stop there, picking up the pace. His humming against her had her cheeks flush. His warm breath and tongue guided her down the path towards ecstasy, hands pinning her thighs against his sprawled out hoodie. Each tug at the locks of his hair and the soft whines that left her lips, had Jaemin's control slip further, subtly grinding against the floor to find some sort of friction.

Y/N couldn't take it any more. Not his wet tongue that elicited lewd sounds from her lips, creating an erotic melody that layered with his eager licks and groans, paired with the squelching sounds as he finally pushed his fingers into her. Her eyes blurred as she stared at the stars, glimmering as he brought her to the edge. His fingers curled perfectly inside her, pressing against a bundle that made the thread snap, finally coming and coating his fingers with her release.

The sound he made when she shuddered beneath him; eyes rolling back, was so pretty, so guttural, she swore she could have come again right there and then.

"You're perfect, baby," he kissed the inside of her thigh before crawling up her writhing body, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth, "We don't have to go all the way tonight, if you don't want to."

Immediately, she shook her head, pulling him in for a lazy kiss, "Jaemin... I want to. I'm sure."

He swore he felt his cock twitch at that, but he shook it off, sitting back on the heels of his feet as he unbuttoned his jeans, kicking it off along with his boxers. But he cursed at himself when the realisation dawned on him, "I-I'm sorry, baby. I don't have a condom. I mean... I wasn't really expecting anything to come out of tonight." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, though she almost didn't hear him, too entranced by the size of him, needing to shake herself out of it.

"If you're okay with not using one, I'm okay with it too," she said without hesitation, "I'm on the pill and... Well, I can get the morning after-" His soft chuckle had cut her words short, "You want me that bad, huh? Aren't you the same woman who was so eager to get rid of me earlier?"

Y/N grumbles under her breath, "Just shut up. Are you going to sleep with me or what? It's getting cold."

Jaemin shakes his head in amusement, hovering over her. The way he looks at her has her heart race; the affection that he doesn't bother to hide, the way his eyes are constantly flicking over her features as if etching them into memory, and the way he isn't quick with claiming her, always making sure she's okay and giving her time to back out. Slowly, she reaches up, cupping his jaw, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip.

"Fuck... do you know what you do to me?" He breathes out, nuzzling into her touch and placing a kiss to the inside of her hand.

Then, he slides his member through her folds, pushing into her inch by inch, pausing every time her brows furrow even slightly. Even when it was torturous for him, he put her first, waiting until the corners of her lips relaxed, and the space between her brows didn't crease.

Finally, when he was fully sheathed inside, and she had relaxed around him, he started to move, picking up the pace a little at a time, her sounds playing as the guide. She was perfect, fitting around him like a glove, wrapping her legs over his hips, rocking into him to feel him deeper, as if he wasn't close enough for her.

Jaemin rested his forehead against hers, his groans synchronised with her pretty moans, "God..." he breathed out, letting his hand cup her waist, fingers pressed into her dewy skin as he grinded into her.

Y/N grabbed onto whatever she could, moving to nestle into his neck, her warm breath and plush lips brushing over his pulse point, "Y-yes, Jaemin...," her nails dug into his back, toes curling at every rock of his hips, every push of his dick into her, had the stars on the ceiling feel brighter and all-consuming, "F-fuck."

Jaemin couldn't handle it, couldn't prolong her release any longer. He grabbed onto her thighs, pushing them out and up to angle his thrusts better. Then, he grabbed onto her wrists, pulling them towards him, sitting back on the balls of his feet as he picked up the pace, the sounds of skin slapping against skin was so dirty under the witness of the gleaming moonlight.

Her head rolled back, mouth agape as deep, throaty sounds escaped her. The moment she began to shudder, he knew he had made her come a second time, his own release following right after.

Jaemin collapsed on top of her, his large frame burying her in warmth as she let out a lazy giggle, snuggling into him, "That was..."

"Amazing? I know."

She smacked his shoulder playfully, "You're so cocky. For all you know, I could have been about to say that it was mediocre, or abysmal, or-"

"Or the hottest thing ever," Jaemin pressed a kiss under her jaw, rolling off of her to grab the sleeve of his hoodie that still nestled under her figure, wiping away at the inside of her thighs.

Just then, a flashlight peeked through the hallway just outside the door. Immediately, the pair glanced at each other, Jaemin muttered a loud 'shit', before quickly slipping on his boxers and jeans, and she chucked his hoodie at him, throwing her own clothes back on — barely.

"We gotta go, now," Jaemin grabbed at her wrist before she could put her jeans and shoes on, darting out the back just as the security guard opened the door, yelling a 'who's there?'

As soon as they made it out of the planetarium and into the chilly night air, out of breath and barely able to stand up straight, Jaemin and Y/N let out a chuckle that sounded more like relief, finally bursting into a fit of laughter, barely able to keep their balance. She used that time to slip on her jeans and shoes, elbowing Jaemin, "We almost got arrested. You sure this is still a good date spot?"

Jaemin raised an amused brow at her, catching his breath after laughing, shrugging, "I just bagged the most perfect, smartest, and most unattainable woman in there. I'd say it's the date spot."

Y/N rolled her eyes, interlocking her fingers with his as she led him back onto the main street, "You better not bring anyone but me."

Jaemin stopped in his tracks, turning her around to face him as he held onto both of her hands, his face serious, "Of course. It's only ever been you, Y/N. I know we've only been on just one date and I know I get on your nerves, and that I barely carried any weight on that science project," he let out an embarrassed chuckle, "But I want to be your boyfriend, if you'll let me. Just know that I'll spoil you like crazy, because we both know that I'm the one who is down bad, who is so madly in love I can't think straight in your presence. I know it's only been a short while, but sometimes it just clicks and it clicked with you, Y/N. It clicked perfectly."

She couldn't stifle a wide smile, her eyes glazing over as she nodded eagerly, squeezing his hands tightly, "I can't say it's love just yet I... I need time, but I do like you, a lot and, I want to give us a try. I'll let you be my boyfriend."

Jaemin didn't realise he was holding his breath, letting out a sigh of relief, "I'm not expecting you to feel anything more than that, Y/N. That's more than enough for me, more than I can ask for or feel worthy of."

She tutted at him, sending him a playfully annoyed expression, "You're worthy of a lot more than you give yourself credit for, Jaemin."

6 months later...

"Haechan, don't be a brat, I told you to put the candles on the candle holders before placing them on the cake," Y/N scowled at the male, who only shrugged in response.

"You really don't need candle holders for this, he'll blow the candles out in like... two seconds. No wax will drip on the cake," He swiped his finger over the frosting, licking it off which had her smack his shoulder.

Renjun let out a frustrated sigh at their usual bickering, shoving Haechan to the side and placing the candles on the toppers, "Stop being difficult, Haechan. This isn't your event."

Haechan grumbled, crossing his arms as he leant against the fridge, "You guys need to get a DNA test, it's crazy how similar you both are."

Chenle, who was still wearing sunglasses indoors, peers up from his phone after watching the tracking map, seeing Jaemin's icon pulling up to the apartment, "Guys, he's almost here, stop fighting."

Y/N quickly scrambles to grab the cake, causing Renjun to whine, "Careful, this will all go to waste if you drop it!"

She sticks her tongue out at him, slipping the cake into her hands as she moves to stand in front of the door, "Okay, as soon as you hear the elevator, light the candles. Don't mess this up!"

Haechan grabs the lighter from the counter, standing next to her as he angles it just above the first candle, "Yes, ma'am. Wouldn't want the leader of the underworld to beat my ass."

She sends him a glare, kicking his leg which causes him to yelp, "I am not Hades!"

"Well, Hades would have kicked my leg too!"

"Because you deserved it!"

Chenle, who was now standing in front of the door, jumps in surprise when he hears the elevator ding, "Guys, shut up, he's here!"

Haechan, about to clap back at her, quickly lights the candles, struggling with the last one until it finally burns a flame into the thread just in time for the front door to open. Renjun could have sworn he almost had a heart attack from the way their whole surprise could have gone bust.

As soon as Jaemin steps inside, the quartet broke into song, singing happy birthday to the male who never would have expected a surprise from the people who meant the most to him. A smile tugged at his lips, his toothy grin wide as he finally met the gaze of the most beautiful woman in his eyes. He knew it was her idea, that she brought them here for him, even though it had taken a while for them to all grow close.

When the song ends, Jaemin's eyes flutter closed to make his wish, blowing out the candles, causing everyone to cheer. Haechan ruffles Jaemin's hair, Chenle claps his back, and Renjun gives him a curt nod and birthday wishes, taking the cake from Y/N's hands before the three of them move to the living room, preparing to hand him the presents.

Jaemin doesn't stop smiling at her, pulling her into a tight hug, his nose nestling into her hair, "Thank you for organising all of this, Y/N... It means the world."

She chuckles, "Of course, I knew how much it would mean to you. I'm just surprised I could get everything ready in time, knowing how easily the four of us bicker."

Jaemin chuckled, pulling back to meet her gaze, "Am I the luckiest man ever? I think I am."

She snorts, rolling her eyes, "You're so annoying. This is why I love you."

Jaemin paused, his eyes widening slightly as the words finally registered, "You..."

When she realised why he had been shocked, she shakes her head in amusement, pulling him in for a sweet kiss, nipping at his bottom lip as she pulled back, "I love you, Jaemin. I was just waiting for the right time to say it."

The three men hollered from the living room, but Jaemin let those sounds drown out, cupping her cheeks with the palms of his hands as he pulled her back in for another kiss, parting his lips against hers, tugging at the plush skin as he smiled into her mouth, "I love you too, Y/N."

2K notes · View notes

fullsunstrawberry · 9 months ago

Text

Falling for the Enemy (M)

Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.

Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!

Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, please guys don’t fight lol, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, teasing, ex knowingly watching, no condom mentioned (stay safe yall), the pull out method (pls be safe), use of the words hot seed, cum, cock.

Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Shout out to my lovely 💚anon for this one!! After some internet troubles, it’s finally out now :) Please let me know if there is anything funky about this (I write on google doc and copy and paste it on Tumblr and sometimes it fucks up the format or doubles paragraphs)

Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class.

"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.

"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?

Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on.

Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that missed your friend that was long gone.

You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends, who also hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face.

Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay.

Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.

Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!

You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”.

Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.

"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."

You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.

"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting.

His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone.

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.

"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."

You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."

"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go.

"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.

Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."

"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.

“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."

You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."

Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”

That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?

Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.

Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”

Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.

“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.

As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would overthink and feel bad.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”

Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"

Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.

“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”

“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”

“Jay, it’s not like that—”

“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”

The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.

"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him.

But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight.

Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down.

As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do.

But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?

Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently.

The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again.

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.

“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”

Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.

“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?

“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two.

But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”

There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong.

You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”

You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“Haechan.” The barista called out.

Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance.

You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable.

But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.

“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.

“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again.

You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.”

Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."

You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."

"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"

You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.

"It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."

Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."

You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"

That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?

Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered.

Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."

You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies.

“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.

“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.”

The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"

You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.

Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"

You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"

Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."

"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester.

But for right now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior would have to wait.

You broke the cookie in half and offered a piece to Chaeryeong, hoping to shift the focus back to something lighter. "Want some? Might as well not let them go to waste.

She accepted the piece with a small smile, though her gaze remained thoughtful.

"You know, maybe he’s not as bad as we thought. Or maybe he's just a confusing guy."

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. "That’s putting it lightly."

But as the sweetness of the cookie melted in your mouth, the door to the café swung open again, and for a moment, your heart jumped, fearing it might be Jay.

But instead, it was Chenle and Jaemin, both of them scanning the room until they spotted you and Chaeryeong.

"Hey, there you are," Chenle said, sliding into a seat next to Chaeryeong. Jaemin followed sitting in the seat next to you, giving you a concerned look. "Everything okay?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... needed some space."

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a playful nudge. "Well, we’re here now, so no more pity parties. Let’s get you out of this mess.”

Jaemin studied you for a moment before speaking. "We’re here for you, Y/n. Whatever you need." You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief.

“Ooo cookies!” Chenle grabbed one without asking.

“You even ordered yourself some of your favorite cookies…oh no this is bad” Jaemin continued, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness. "Cookies are your comfort food."

Chenle, mid-bite, paused and raised his eyebrows.

"Wait, did something happen with Jay again?" His usual playful tone shifted slightly, concern creeping in as he glanced between you and Chaeryoung.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their questions. "It's nothing. Just... the usual stuff. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan in class again."

Jaemin’s face hardened. "Y/n, that’s not nothing. He’s been doing this for a while now. Getting jealous and picking fights. It’s not normal."

Chenle, despite the cookie in his mouth, nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Why does it even matter where you sit in class? You’re not his property."

You glanced away, not wanting to meet their eyes. The conversation was heading in the same direction as before, and you felt that familiar knot of guilt tightening in your chest.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryoung spoke up, “She didn’t even buy these cookies…guess who did.”

Chenle blinked, pausing mid-chew as he looked between you and Chaeryoung.

"Wait, are you bragging about buying cookies for a heartbroken girl?" His voice was laced with teasing. She shook her head ‘no’ and Jaemin’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

You hesitated, feeling a twinge of discomfort as you answered quietly, "Haechan."

Jaemin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Haechan? He bought you cookies?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and a little bit of protectiveness.

Chenle stared at the cookie in his hand, then at you, then back at the cookie. "So, you’re telling me I’m eating Haechan’s cookies? They’re probably poisoned!"

"It’s not like I asked him to," you muttered, feeling the tension rising again. "He just… did."

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes. "He didn’t say much when he saw me outside of the cafe, just told me that Y/n needed me."

Jaemin’s frown deepened. "That’s weird. Since when does Haechan care about anyone but himself?"

You shrugged, still unsure of what to make of the gesture. "I don’t know. Maybe he’s just messing with me, trying to get under my skin."

Chaeryeong smirked. "Or maybe he’s trying to get you under him!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. He’s just... being Haechan, weird."

Chaeryeong’s energy shifted immediately, her smirk softening into a more playful grin as she leaned forward, practically buzzing with excitement. "Alright, enough of this! We need to get you out of here. You’ve been drowning in all this drama for too long.”

Chenle’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, already nodding in agreement. "Yes! A night out is exactly what you need. No Jay, no Haechan—just us having fun. There is a party at Mark’s place tomorrow night." He winked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Jaemin, though quieter, gave a nod of approval. "It could be good for you, Y/n. A break from everything."

You hesitated, a part of you wanted to curl up at home and avoid the world, but another part knew that maybe they were right. You needed a break from all the chaos.

"Alright, fine," you sighed, feeling the weight on your chest lighten just a little. "I’ll go to Mark’s party tomorrow."

Chaeryeong clapped her hands together, practically glowing with excitement. "Yes! It’s going to be so much fun, I promise! Just good vibes, and you’ll finally get a chance to relax."

Chenle grinned, "That’s the spirit! Plus, you know, it’s always a good time at Mark’s. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new…"

Jaemin shot Chenle a look, silently warning him to tone it down, but Chenle just winked at you, clearly trying to keep things light.

You chuckled, feeling a small flicker of relief. "I’m not going to a party to meet someone, Chenle."

"Maybe not," Jaemin said with a small smile, "but at least you’ll be there with your friends, and that’s what matters."

The next evening, the air was buzzing with excitement as you stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the mixture of outfits Chaeryeong had scattered across your bed. She was currently looking through your closet, tossing out options as if she were styling a fashion shoot instead of just picking something for a party.

“You need something bold but effortless,” Chaeryeong declared, holding up a black, form-fitting dress before shaking her head and discarding it. “Something that says, ‘I’m here to have fun, not to impress.’ But, you know, still impressive.”

You laughed, sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched her being dramatic. "Chaeryeong, it’s just a party. I’m not trying to walk a runway."

Chenle, lounging in the corner of your room, raised an eyebrow. "No, but you’re going to Mark’s, and there’s a difference. You’ve gotta show up looking good.”

You groaned as Chaeryeong shot you a knowing look. “You don’t want to walk in looking anything less than your best. Trust me, it’ll help you feel more in control." She pulled out a green silk dress from your closet, holding it up against you. "This. It’s perfect."

You looked at the dress, hesitant. It was beautiful. "I don’t know… it’s kind of a lot."

"Exactly," Chaeryeong said with a grin. "You need a lot. Let’s remind everyone—including you—that you’re the main character tonight."

Chenle laughed, getting up from his spot. "You heard her. Tonight is your night to shine, Y/n."

Sighing, you finally stood up and took the dress from Chaeryeong’s hands. "Fine. Let’s do it."

An hour later, you were slipping on the last of your jewelry as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The green dress hugged your curves in all the right ways, and the satin shimmered under the soft lighting of your room. Chaeryeong had helped style your hair, soft waves falling over your shoulders, and Chenle, surprisingly, had given his input on your makeup. A bold lip to contrast the simplicity of the rest of your look.

"Wow," you whispered, half in disbelief at how different you looked.

Chaeryeong stood beside you, grinning from ear to ear.

"Told you. You look amazing."

Chenle nodded, leaning in the doorway. "Everyone is gonna wish they were with you."

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder. Would they? Would Jay? Or would you finally not care?

With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, feeling a rush of determination. Tonight was about you.

As you made your way downstairs, the sound of music and distant chatter already filled the air. Chenle and Chaeryeong followed close behind.

Chaeryeong linked her arm with yours as you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “Don’t let it get to you, Y/n. Just have fun tonight. Remember, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

You nodded, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of Jay and Haechan, and all the drama that seemed to follow them like a shadow. Tonight wasn’t about them—it was about you.

The drive to Mark’s place was filled with lighthearted chatter, Chenle and Chaeryeong alternating between playful bickering and hyping you up for the night ahead. But the closer you got to the party, the more you felt the familiar nerves creeping in.

“We’re here!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, and you blinked as the car pulled up to Mark’s house. Music thumped from inside, and the soft glow of lights poured from the windows, illuminating the big crowd already gathered outside.

You took a deep breath as the three of you stepped out of the car, Chenle offering you a quick thumbs-up for encouragement. “Remember, main character energy. Let’s go.”

As you approached the front door, Mark himself appeared, grinning as he waved you inside. “Y/n! You made it!”

He gave you a quick, welcoming hug before greeting Chaeryeong and Chenle. “The party’s just getting started. Drinks are in the kitchen, and the backyard is open if you want to chill.”

You thanked him and followed the crowd into the house, trying to shake off the remaining nerves. The music, laughter, and the buzz of conversation washed over you, helping to melt away some of your worries. Chaeryeong handed you a drink, her eyes already sparkling.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit!” she said over the music, pulling you toward the living room, where a few familiar faces were already lounging.

But before you could get comfortable, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the kitchen—Haechan.

He was chatting with someone, but his gaze shifted just as you entered the room. For a split second, your eyes locked, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, though you couldn’t quite read it.

“Focus on having fun,” Chaeryeong whispered in your ear, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled at her, grateful for the reminder, and nodded. Tonight was about fun. About letting go.

Jaemin and Jeno moved to form a spot where you could sit between them. You settled down, feeling a wave of relief as the two of them immediately began chatting, creating a comfortable bubble around you. Jeno handed you a drink with a reassuring smile.

"Looking good, Y/n."

Jeno, always the more laid-back one, nudged your shoulder. "We’ll make sure you have a good time. No drama, no distractions."

You took a sip of your drink, nodding. Their presence was calming, a much-needed escape from the whirlwind of emotions you’d been feeling lately.

Chaeryeong and Chenle were already engrossed in a conversation across from you, laughing about something Chenle said, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel at ease.

Jaemin leaned in slightly, his voice low so only you could hear. "You look amazing tonight, by the way." He smiled.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, and before you could respond, Jeno chimed in, as if reading the moment. "Jaemin’s right. That green dress is doing wonders."

You laughed, grateful for their compliments but not wanting to dwell on it too much. "Thanks, guys. I needed this.” You took a chug from your drink.

Jaemin smiled softly. "We’re always here for you, Y/n."

You nodded, then stood up, smoothing down the hem of your dress as you glanced around the room. The music thumped louder as more people began to fill the space, and for a moment, you just stood there, letting the beat pulse through you.

"Then let’s dance," you said, gesturing toward the group of people already dancing.

Jaemin grinned, standing up and offering you his hand. "Thought you’d never ask."

Jeno followed close behind, already moving to the rhythm of the music as you all made your way to the center of the room. The bass of the music vibrated through the floor, the lights flashing in time with the beat, casting colorful patterns on the crowd around you.

As soon as you hit the dance floor, the energy shifted. The three of you fell into the rhythm easily, laughing and letting the music take over. You spun around, arms raised, carefree.

"Now this is what I like to see from you," Jaemin said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. You laughed, spinning around again, letting the moment take over.

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze locked with Haechan from across the room. He stood near the edge of the dance floor, leaning against the wall with his usual confident smirk. His eyes were focused intently on you, watching your every move. For a moment, everything else faded—the music, the crowd, even Jaemin and Jeno’s presence

Haechan didn’t look away. Instead, his smirk deepened, almost like he knew something you didn’t, a silent challenge hanging between you.

Jaemin nudged your arm, breaking your concentration. "Hey, you good?"

You blinked, forcing a smile and nodding. "Yeah, I’m good!”

The spot where Haechan had been standing was now empty, leaving you momentarily confused.

Jaemin noticed your brief flicker of confusion. “Looking for someone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly. "No, just... thought I saw something."

Before Jaemin could say more, Chenle swooped in, pulling you by the wrist and pulling you towards him and Chaeryeong. “Come on! No more standing around, let’s get moving!”

You let yourself be pulled into the crowd, trying to shake the image of Haechan from your mind.

Feeling a bit drained, you excused yourself from your friends and made your way to the kitchen in search of another drink. The party was packed, and the energy was starting to get overwhelming.

After a few moments of being bumped and nudged, you decided it was best to escape the chaos. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out to the backyard, hoping for a moment of peace away from the noise and crowd.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and music fading into the background. The backyard was a welcome contrast to the chaotic energy inside. Strings of fairy lights hung above, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating a few scattered chairs around a fire pit.

You walked toward the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing and taking a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs. The stars twinkled above like tiny diamonds, and for a moment, you lost yourself in their beauty, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you heard the door open and someone rushed out. Turning you saw Haechan. He was searching the backyard until his eyes met yours and he sighed, walking over to you.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes, already knowing he wasn’t the best company.

“I know you don’t exactly like me” You scoffed as he put his hands up, telling you to wait, “But I hate cheaters, so I needed to tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written across your face. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Haechan leaned against the railing beside you, his expression serious, a stark contrast to the usual playful demeanor. “No, seriously. I just saw Jay go into a room with another girl.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down. You took a moment to process what he was saying, anger and disbelief swirling within you.

“Are you sure? That sounds like something you would say to mess with me.”

“I get why you’d think that, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Haechan replied, frustration creeping into his tone.

“I may not be your favorite person, but I wouldn’t do that. You deserve to know the truth.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening around your drink. The reality of the situation settled over you, and you could feel your heart racing.

“Which room?”

Haechan hesitated for a moment, his gaze steady. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, the kind that felt hollow. “Just tell me which room.”

Haechan glanced at you, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “Upstairs, the second one on the right.”

You put your cup down and started to make your way back into the party in search of the stairs.

“Are you sure about this?” Haechan, who you didn’t even notice was following, asked you.

You nodded and moved quickly, your heart racing as you made your way through the crowd. The lively music and laughter faded into the background, drowned out by the storm of thoughts in your head. The dim lights seemed to press in, making your thoughts feel even more stressed.

As you reached the stairs, you hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of what you were about to confront hitting you like a ton of bricks. But the image of Jay with another girl flashed in your mind, fueling your determination. You needed answers. You needed to reclaim your dignity.

Going up the stairs, you felt your breath quicken. Each step seemed to echo with the anxiety of what lay ahead. Reaching the second door on the right, you paused, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You could hear muffled voices from inside, giggling mingling with the soft kissing.

Throwing open the door you felt the air leave your lungs in a rush, your heart dropping as the scene unfolded before you. Jay was on top of another woman, his hands tangled in her hair, their lips inches apart.

Time seemed to freeze as Jay’s eyes shot wide open, and the laughter from the girl faltered into a shocked silence.

“Y/n! I—” Jay stammered, scrambling to sit up, the realization of your presence crashing over him like a wave.

You didn’t let him finish. “What the hell is this?” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and disbelief swirling within you. The hurt was too much, twisting your stomach into knots.

The girl, wide-eyed and uncomfortable, quickly shuffled away from Jay, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I didn’t know—” she started, but you cut her off.

“Save it,” you said, directing your fury back at Jay.

“After everything I’ve done for you.”

Jay stood up fully now, his expression shifting from shock to guilt. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he began his voice low, almost pleading.

You turned your back towards him and rushed down the stairs. You could hear him following you. So you looked for any of your friends but couldn’t find them. Instead, your eyes connect with Haechans near the bottom of the stairs.

Rushing over to him you pull him down by his shirt and whisper “sorry” before pulling him into a heated kiss.

Haechan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he responded, his hands finding your waist as he kissed you back with an urgency that matched your own. The chaos of the party faded into the background, the pounding music replaced by the sound of your racing heart.

But before it could get any farther, you were ripped away from Haechan by the sudden appearance of a familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jay’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusatory. You turned to see him standing there, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger.

Haechan stepped back, his demeanor shifting instantly from passionate to defensive.

“Just what you were doing with that other girl,” he replied, his tone challenging. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you—”

“Don’t!” Jay interrupted, stepping toward you both.

“You have no right to act like the hero here. You don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know exactly what’s going on, so if you don’t mind we were kind of doing something”, Haechan shot back, his eyes narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you from Jay.

You could feel the tension in the air thickening. “Haechan, stop,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You could see the fire in his eyes, but you didn’t want this to escalate any further.

Jay’s expression twisted with frustration. “You think you can just come in and play the knight in shining armor? She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

“And you think I care?” Haechan replied, crossing his arms defiantly. “You had your chance to treat her right, and you blew it.”

Jay shook his head, thinking about what to say next, but Jay was never good with his words so he stepped forward and swung.

Haechan barely had time to react. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. You gasped, instinctively stepping between them, your heart racing at the sudden escalation.

“Jay, what the hell?!” you shouted, adrenaline rushing through you. “This is not how you handle things!”

Jay’s face was flushed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s a fucking piece of shit!” he snapped, breathing heavily.

Haechan regained his composure and moved around you, delivering a swift punch to Jay's jaw. The impact echoed, and Jay staggered back, eyes wide with surprise.

As they started to throw punches back and forth, you didn’t know what to do. A group of people gathered around them.

You saw Jaemin and Jeno pushing through the crowd, their expressions a mix of alarm and confusion. “What the hell is going on?” Jaemin shouted, his voice rising above the commotion.

“Y/n, get out of the way!” Jeno called out as he reached for your arm, pulling you back. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel powerless while the two of them fought over you like you were some trophy for their ego.

“Stop it!” you shouted again, trying to push through the gathering crowd, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of fists connecting and the murmurs of onlookers.

Jaemin managed to get closer, stepping between Jay and Haechan. As Jeno grabbed Jay from behind to stop him from throwing any more punches.

“Both of you, enough! This isn’t the way to handle it!”

Haechan, breathing heavily, stepped back, his fists still clenched. “He deserves this, Jaemin! He cheated on her!”

Jay looked furious, “This is all his fucking fault!” He spat at Haechan.

You could see his expression begin to harden again, that familiar mask of arrogance threatening to resurface. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as you attempted to pull him away from the chaos of the crowd.

Haechan looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening at your sudden gesture, but he didn’t resist as you led him out into the cool evening air, away from the noise. As you stepped into the front yard, you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber.

“What are you doing?” Haechan asked, his voice low, and filled with confusion. His hand was still in yours, but he made no move to pull away, his gaze locked on your face.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat as the reality of the moment started to sink in. What were you doing?

“I needed to get out of there,” you admitted quietly, your grip loosening slightly, but you didn’t let go.

His eyes softened, just a little, the hardness from earlier fading as he studied you.

"Okay."

Haechan sat down on the curb of the road and gestured for you to sit down next to him.

You hesitated for a moment, then quietly sat beside him on the curb, the cool pavement grounding you.

“So, how are we going to get back at him?” you asked, your voice low but edged with determination.

Haechan turned toward you, eyes narrowing in surprise. “What?”

You met his gaze, a fire igniting within you. "Jay. How are we going to make him regret everything?"

Haechan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He studied your face for a long second as if trying to gauge whether you were serious. Then, a slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips.

“Are you sure you’re ready to play that game?” he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his question sink in. Was this really what you wanted? A part of you knew it was reckless, that using Haechan to get back at Jay could only make things worse.

“I need to hurt him,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “If he wants to treat me like I’m nothing, then maybe it’s time I show him I don’t need him.”

Haechan's smirk deepened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Alright, then. Let’s make this interesting.”

Before the two of you could come up with an actual plan, the Uber showed up. You exchanged a quick look with Haechan before giving the driver your address.

The ride was quiet, you could feel Haechan’s gaze lingering on you but you didn’t want to say anything so you settled for looking out the window.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment, you stepped out, turning back to wait for him. Haechan, still sitting in the backseat, raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, his voice casual, but his eyes searched yours.

You gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slight shrug, he climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him.

“Is there a reason you’re taking me back to your house?” Haechan teased, his tone playful as always, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

You shot him a glance, rolling your eyes. “Look at you. You look awful, and I know you’re not smart enough to clean an open wound.”

Haechan smirked, following you toward your apartment door. “I didn’t realize I was so lucky to have a personal nurse.”

You ignored his sarcasm, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Just sit down and let me handle it before you get an infection.”

As he walked in, his usual cocky demeanor softened slightly. He never thought you two would be talking again. Not after he was such a huge jerk to you.

He sank onto the couch, watching you as you moved through the small space, grabbing your first aid kit from under the sink. There was an awkward quiet that hung between you two, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Returning to the living room, you set the kit on the coffee table and crouched in front of him, carefully opening it up.

“You know, I can do this myself,” Haechan said, but his voice lacked its usual teasing bite.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, reaching for the antiseptic.

“Like I trust you not to make it worse.”

He chuckled, though there was an unspoken tension behind it. As you gently cleaned the small cuts and scrapes, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become, his gaze occasionally flickering to your face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. "I didn’t punch him because of you, I did it because he’s a jerk."

You paused for a second, looking up at him, your hands still resting on him. “It’s the least I can do,” you admitted honestly. “Since you told me.”

Haechan sighed, his eyes drifting around your living room. His gaze lingered on the little details—pictures on the wall, the books stacked messily on the coffee table—before he turned back to you, something softer in his expression.

"Done," you said, pulling your hands away after finishing with his wounds.

He flexed his hand, testing the bandages, and gave you a small, almost appreciative nod. "Thanks..." His voice was low, the teasing gone entirely.

You just shrugged, trying to brush off the weight of the moment. "Don’t get used to it," you said with a small smile, but there was no real bite to your words.

Haechan met your eyes, something unreadable passing between you before he looked away again. "I owe you."

“I will remember that!” you laughed, getting up from the floor and brushing off your pants. “I’m tired, you can sleep on the couch. I’ll bring you some pillows.”

Haechan watched you with an amused expression, his eyes glinting. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to crash on your couch.”

“Too bad,” you shot back playfully, heading toward the closet. “You look like you need the rest after everything. Plus, I don't want to be responsible for you bleeding out.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You returned with a couple of pillows and a blanket, handing them to him. “Here you go.”

“Wow, you are going all out,” he teased, settling into the couch, clearly enjoying this.

“Do I get breakfast too, or is that pushing it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you replied with a mock glare.

“You can make yourself breakfast. Just don’t burn the place down.”

Haechan quietly laughed before getting comfortable on the couch, sinking into the pillows you had brought him. His relaxed posture seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room, making it feel more relaxed.

“Just so you know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow, “this isn’t going to become a regular thing. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Right, the infamous Haechan, the bad boy who no one can take seriously.” you teased, rolling your eyes as you left to go to your room.

As you closed the door to your room, you leaned against it for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe.

You tossed your phone onto the bed and plopped down beside it. After a moment, you set a timer for the morning, letting exhaustion pull you into sleep.

Morning light filtered through your curtains, you stirred as your alarm beeped. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stretched and glanced at the clock. You had meant to wake up early, but the memories of last night lingered in your mind, making it hard to move.

You climbed out of bed, the floor cool against your feet, and made your way to the bathroom. After quickly brushing your teeth and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you headed toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the room.

You found the blanket neatly folded on the couch and the pillows stacked up next to it, but no sign of Haechan. A small frown formed on your face. But what did you expect? You weren’t friends just because he fought your ex. He said it himself that it wasn’t for you. He just wanted an excuse to hit Jay.

Pushing the thought aside, you took a deep breath and focused on getting ready for class. You stepped into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water to shake off the remnants of sleep. After putting on some makeup and brushing your hair, you throw on a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater.

As you walked back into your bedroom, you noticed your phone lighting up with a message. You grabbed it, and messages from your friends filled your phone.

Chenle: THAT WAS CRAZY!! ARE YOU OKAY??

Jaemin: Hey, let me know when you’re home!! <3

Jaemin: You probably fell asleep, let me know when you are awake <3

Jeno: Are you okay? Jaemin and I took care of the problem (⪰∀⪯）

Chaeryeong: I saw you leave with Haehcan!! GURRL YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

After a moment, you replied to everyone letting them know you were okay.

With your bag slung over your shoulder. You walked towards campus, your mind still racing with thoughts about Haechan.

When you arrived, you navigated through the crowd of students, your mind drifting between the classes you had lined up for the day.

As you made your way to your first lecture, you spotted a familiar face across the quad. It was your friend, Chaeryeong, waving enthusiastically. You quickened your pace to meet her.

“Y/n! There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to class!”

“You know I can’t afford to miss a class,” you laugh.

“Okay, I’ve waited enough! Tell me everything!” she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as you both walked towards the lecture hall.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Well, Haechan stayed over last night after everything that happened with Jay.”

Chaeryeong raised her eyebrows, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “Oh? Look at you getting cozy with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile. “It’s not like that. I felt bad, dragging him into all of this.”

“He was always in this,” she said, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You nodded, the weight of her words settling in your mind. “I know, but this doesn’t mean we are friends.”

Chaeryeong shook her head, and the two of you entered the lecture hall, finding your seats. As the professor began speaking, you turned to whisper to Chaeryoung, leaning in slightly to keep your conversation discreet.

“Let’s not tell the guys about me going home with Haechan... I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Chaeryoung nodded and turned back to focus on the lecture.

“I’m going to go eat something, I didn’t get to have breakfast,” you said, rubbing your stomach lightly to emphasize your point.

“You’re so lucky to have a break between classes” Chaeryoung groaned, “I have two more classes before I can even get food.”

“You’re the one that wanted all morning classes”

“Yeah because the night is for parting not for studying.” Chaeryoung rolled her eyes.

You shoved her playfully before splitting up and heading towards the café and sitting in the same spot you did last time.

“Okay, you have to stop stealing my spot,” an annoyingly familiar voice said, breaking your focus from the menu. You looked up to find Haechan standing there, an amused smile on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, faking annoyance. “Still doesn’t have your name on it. This is a public café.”

“Sure, but you know it’s my favorite spot,” he retorted, sliding into the seat next to you. “I always sit here to people-watch between classes.”’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his mock-serious expression. “I don’t care right now, I’m starving.”

He chuckled, glancing at the menu before leaning back in his chair. “What are you getting?.”

“I was thinking about a bagel and some coffee,” you replied, glancing over the options again.

“Boring,” he declared dramatically, shaking his head. “Get the avocado toast. It’s amazing here.”

You rolled your eyes. “So you can steal it? You’re not even hiding your motives.”

He shrugged, an innocent look plastered on his face. “What can I say? I have exquisite taste.”

“Exquisite taste?” you repeated, unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s a big word for you.”

“You’re supposed to be nicer to me now!” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did rescue you from that jerk, remember?”

“Rescue is a strong word,” you countered, trying to keep a straight face. “You threw a punch….and then I had to pull you away.”

“Details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider. “I’ll get an order for two avocado toasts.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up with excitement.

You gestured for him to get up so you could slide out of the booth. “Yeah, but only because you’re annoying and I don’t want to hear you complain. But you’re coming with me to order it.”

“Yay!” Haechan stood up and followed you to the counter, the playful banter continuing as you both approached the register.

As you placed the order, he leaned against the counter, watching you with a teasing smile. “What if I said I wanted extra everything? You’re still paying?”

You laughed, shaking your head as the barista rang up your order. “Is that all?”

You nodded your head, “Yep, that’s all.” You reached into your pocket for your card, but before you could find it, Haechan pulled out his and handed it to the barista.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested.

“Just treating you to breakfast,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter as if it was no big deal.

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “For what? You were the one who punched my ex, remember?”

“Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve been wanting to mess up his face for a while!”

The barista handed Haechan back his card, and he turned to you with a victorious grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only because I’m starving.”

As you both moved to the side to wait for your order, the door to the café bell rang. You looked to the side and saw it was Jay and his friends.

“Shit!” you mumbled under your breath, your stomach sinking as you tried to think of an escape plan.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as Jay’s laughter echoed through the café. He spotted you almost immediately, his expression turning sour.

You could see him making his way to you, so you did the only thing that felt like it would hurt him.

You grabbed Haechan’s shirt, pulling him closer to you as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, aggressive kiss.

Haechan froze for a moment, clearly taken aback. But he quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you back.

The reaction was immediate. Jay’s expression shifted from confusion to fury, his friends exchanging glances as the tension in the room skyrocketed. You could feel Haechan smirking against your lips, clearly enjoying the situation.

As you pulled away, Haechan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Didn’t know paying for your lunch would make you want to kiss me,” he asked, while a grin tugged at his lips.

“Jay is here,” you whispered, low enough so no one else could hear you.

Jay’s glare burned into you, and he scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think that’s going to make me jealous? You’re pathetic.”

You felt a rush of boldness. “If you’re so over it, why do you care?” you shot back, feeling bold because of Haechan’s presence.

Jay opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything further, Haechan stepped in front of you, his posture protective. “You really should find a new hobby, Jay. This isn’t working for you,” he said, his tone calm yet firm.

Jay’s face turned a shade redder, his boldness faltering. “Whatever. I don’t need this.” He turned on his heel, storming out with his friends trailing behind, their laughter fading as they exited the café.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glancing up at Haechan. “He was so mad.”

Haechan chuckled, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. “I have a plan!”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “Oh no, should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Haechan replied, that mischievous grin still playing on his lips. “But if you want to make him furious, we’re going to have to turn it up a notch.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” you asked cautiously, folding your arms.

“Simple,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “We pretend that we are hooking up. Just for a little while. You know how much it’ll eat at him.”

Your eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Haechan shrugged, clearly enjoying the drama of it all.

“It’ll be fun. And the look on his face when he realizes you’ve completely moved on? Priceless.”

You paused, considering it for a moment. As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea had some appeal. Jay seeing you with someone else, especially Haechan, would drive him nuts. And the more you thought about it, the more tempting it became.

“Okay, let’s say I go along with this,” you began slowly. “What’s in it for you?”

Haechan’s grin widened. “I get to have the time of my life watching Jay go insane.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s genius,” Haechan said, leaning back against the counter with a self-satisfied smirk. “

We’ll be the hottest ‘couple’ in the room, and Jay won’t know what hit him.”

You bit your lip, still hesitant but intrigued by the idea. “Fine,” you finally said. “But don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show.”

Haechan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. Strictly business. But trust me, this is going to be fun.”

After finishing lunch with Haechan, you went through the rest of your day—attending lectures, trying to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to the café incident.

Haechan’s ridiculous plan echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but replay Jay's angry expression over and over again.

By the time your classes were over, you were mentally exhausted. Having dinner with your friends sounded like a nice break after a hectic day. As you approached the dining hall, you spotted Chaeryeong waving you over to the usual table where the others were already gathered—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle.

You slid into the seat next to Chaeryeong, who immediately gave you a curious glance. “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“Eventful,” you said with a sigh.

Jaemin perked up, overhearing the exchange. “Eventful?”

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “Just... ran into Jay and his friends at lunch.”

The table went quiet for a second before Chenle raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And... Haechan was there,” you added, not wanting to dive into all the details.

Chenle laughed, breaking the tension. “Oh man, I bet that was awkward.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, exchanging a glance with Chaeryeong, who seemed to already know there was more to the story.

Jeno, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “What did Haechan do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Jaemin cut in.

“Wait, wait—are you guys friends now?”

You paused, unsure how to answer that question, especially with Haechan’s ridiculous plan in the back of your mind. “Not... exactly,” you said vaguely.

Jeno looked confused. “What does that even mean?”

Chaeryeong, always the perceptive one, smirked slightly but stayed quiet, watching the situation unfold.

You shrugged. “It just means things are complicated. Let’s just eat.”

But you could tell from the looks on your friends' faces that this wasn’t the last you’d hear about Haechan and Jay.

Your phone rang, and you glanced down, spotting Haechan’s name on the screen. You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos he was about to bring into your life.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered, your voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Party this weekend,” Haechan's voice was full of excitement. “We need to go! Everyone’s going to be there.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “And why, exactly, do I need to go to this party?”

“What, you don’t want to kiss me again,” he said with a teasing tone. “Plus, everyone is going to be there so it’s perfect.”

You could already imagine him grinning on the other end of the line, fully expecting you to give in. “Haechan, I’m not exactly in the mood for another party.”

“Come on,” he whined. “It’s not just any party. Jay’s gonna be there.”

“Fine, okay,” you finally said, giving in with a sigh. You could practically hear the grin in Haechan's voice.

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday. You’re not going to regret it, trust me.”

“I’m already regretting this,” you muttered, but a small part of you was excited. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—if nothing else, you’d get a chance to make Jay uncomfortable, and that was starting to sound more appealing.

“Just make sure you’re ready,” Haechan added. “And wear something… you know, sexy.”

“Sexy?” you repeated skeptically.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “See you then!”

As the call ended, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. This party could either be a disaster or the perfect chance to move on from Jay and get a little revenge. Either way, things were about to get interesting.

The week flew by in a blur of classes, assignments, and quick meals with friends. Before you knew it, Friday had arrived, and you found yourself staring at your closet, trying to figure out what Haechan meant by "something sexy."

You groaned, pulling out outfit after outfit, none of them feeling right. Tonight wasn’t just any night. If Jay was going to be at this party, you wanted to make him regret cheating on you.

You gave up, settling on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. As you finished getting ready, you glanced at the time. Almost eight.

Just as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you heard a knock on your door. Taking one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your jacket and opened the door.

“Took you long enough!” Haechan teased, eyeing your outfit with a dramatic shake of his head.

“What?” you asked, already sensing the criticism coming.

“This won’t do,” he said with exaggerated disappointment. Before you could protest, he sighed and gently pushed you back into the house. “Where’s your closet?”

“Haechan, I’m not changing!” you called after him as he made a beeline for your bedroom.

“You are if you want to make everyone jealous,” he insisted, already rummaging through your clothes as if he owned the place. “Jeans and a black T-shirt? Come on, Y/n, we’re supposed to be putting on a show.”

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed. “My outfit doesn't matter.”

He grinned, pulling out a sleek black dress you had tucked away. “This is perfect.”

You hesitated for a second, glancing at the dress. It was short, definitely not what you had planned, but you had to admit, Haechan had a point.

You sighed, eyeing the dress Haechan held up. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replied, his grin widening as he shoved the dress into your hands. “Come on, Y/n. You want to show Jay what he’s missing, right?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, looking between Haechan and the dress. You wouldn’t ever wear that if you were just going out with your friends. You didn’t have the confidence, but Haechan somehow gave you confidence.

“Fine,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you snatched the dress from him. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Haechan smirked, plopping down on your bed and crossing his arms. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

You disappeared into the bathroom, slipping into the dress and staring at yourself in the mirror. It was outside your usual comfort zone, you couldn’t deny you looked good.

Stepping out, you found Haechan waiting, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, there was no teasing grin, just a flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it.

“See? Now this is how you get everyone’s attention,” he said, standing up. “Jay’s gonna be so jealous.”

His eyes lingered on you a little too long, and the sudden intenseness made you feel exposed. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shield the self-consciousness creeping up.

Haechan reached out gently, his fingers brushing against your wrists as he pulled your arms away from your body.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly tender. “You look amazing. Own it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. His usual playful arrogance was replaced with something… different, almost like he wanted you to feel confident tonight. The teasing smirk was still there, but his eyes held something deeper.

“You think this is gonna work?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Haechan grinned, his usual swagger returning as he let go of your arms. “Oh, it’s definitely going to work. Jay’s not going to know what hit him. And more importantly, you’re going to have the best time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to match Haechan’s confidence. “Okay, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Relax, we’re gonna have fun.” Haechan shot you a wink before opening the door.

“Trust me.”

And for some reason, in that moment, you kind of did.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Haechan arrived. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and the air was thick.

“Hold on for a moment, I need to find Mark really quick” Haechan immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you on your own. You should have known you two wouldn’t have stayed together the whole night.

You made your way to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect yourself before facing Jay. As you poured yourself a drink, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.”

You turned to see Jay leaning against the counter, a smug smile on his face. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Surprised to see me?” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not at all,” Jay replied, his eyes trailing over your figure. “Although I must say, this wasn’t exactly what I expected.”

“You don’t get to have any expectations,” You snapped, trying to sound confident despite not feeling it. “I wear what I want.”

Jay chuckled, leaning in closer. “You never wore that when I was with you.”

“Past tense,” you emphasized, setting your drink down with more force than necessary. “Things change, Jay. Clearly.”

His smile paused for a moment before he masked it with a shrug. “Finally got bored of that douchebag.”

“Yeah, but I guess he hasn’t taken the hint since he’s right here, talking to me.”

Jay's smug expression deepened, but you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“Y/N?” His tone was dripping with arrogance. “Do you think Haechan is any better than me? He’s just having fun with you until he gets bored.”

You felt the sting of his words, but you weren’t going to let him get to you. You leaned in slightly, your voice steady.

“Maybe. But at least he’s better in bed.”

Jay's jaw tightened, clearly not expecting that response. He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice cut through the tension.

“This is just sad,” Haechan's voice rang out as he walked over, a cool smirk playing on his lips. “She already found someone better.”

Jay straightened up, glaring at Haechan, but didn’t say anything. The silence between the three of you was heavy, but you could sense that Jay was weighing his options. After a beat, he scoffed and stepped back.

“You’re not worth my time,” Jay muttered, giving you one last look before turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Haechan gave you a sideways glance, his smirk softening into something almost... concerned.

“You alright?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened.

You nodded, still feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Good. Because I have a better idea for the rest of the night. Let’s make him regret ever speaking to you.”

You blinked at him, intrigued. “What are you planning now?”

Haechan grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’ll see. But first, we need more drinks to loosen up.”

Haechan’s grin widened as he grabbed two cups from the counter, handing one to you. You hesitated, still feeling the lingering tension from your run-in with Jay, but something about the way Haechan looked at you made it impossible to say no.

“Let’s party,” he said, raising his cup.

You clinked your cup against him, taking a sip before following him back into the crowded living room. The music pulsed through the space, people dancing and talking in tight clusters. Haechan was already scanning the room, clearly looking for the next move.

“What exactly is this plan of yours?” you asked, trying to read his expression.

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, it’s simple. We just need to make it look like we’re having the best time ever—together. You know, give Jay a little show.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you plan to make Jay jealous again?”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, pulling you closer to him as a new song began to play. “Let’s see how he likes watching us have all the fun.”

Before you could protest, Haechan spun you around, guiding you into the makeshift dance floor. The bass vibrated under your feet as he moved effortlessly, a confident smirk still plastered on his face. Despite yourself, you found yourself laughing, his energy contagious. You couldn’t deny how easy it was to get swept up in the moment with him.

As the two of you danced, you noticed Jay standing across the room, watching with a clenched jaw. It was clear that Haechan’s plan was working. You caught Jay’s eye for a split second before deliberately looking away, focusing entirely on Haechan. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the way he smiled at you as if no one else mattered, made you forget about everything for a moment.

“See?” Haechan said, leaning close to your ear, his voice barely audible over the music. “Told you it would work.”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Jay pushing his friends away and keeping his eyes on you two, clearly frustrated. You grinned. “Maybe you’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Haechan chuckled, spinning you again before pulling you close. “Too late for that.”

Haechan leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Are you ready for the real show?” You nodded as Haechan started to lead you out of the crowd.

As Haechan started to lead you up the stairs, your heart was pounding. The noise from the party below faded slightly with each step, leaving just the two of you in a quiet bubble. His hand remained firmly on your hips, his grip surprisingly reassuring despite the teasing smirk still playing on his lips.

”He’s following us.” Haechan whispered as he led you into a room, purposely leaving the door slightly open.

Your heart skipped a beat as Haechan whispered those words, confirming what you had suspected. Jay was trailing behind, just as Haechan had expected.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Haechan stood in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. He motioned for you to stand near the bed, his smirk fading into something more serious, though his playfulness never completely disappeared.

“We're putting on a show, right?” he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Might as well give him something to really lose his mind over."

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed his words. This whole thing was a game—one meant to drive Jay crazy—but there was something in the way Haechan was looking at you now that made it feel a little too real.

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Jay was getting closer, tension growing thicker with each passing second.

Without thinking, you took a step toward Haechan. He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see what you would do next.

You reached up, touching the side of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes locked with yours, full of unspoken words. At that moment, you knew this was more than just a plan to him.

"You're right," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. "It's time for the real show."

Haechan's eyes widened slightly at your words, his breath hitching in anticipation. Without another word, you took a step closer and then another, until you were just inches apart. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it was intoxicating.

As Jay reached the door and saw the two of you so close together, he froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. It was clear that he had never expected things to go this far.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Haechan. His lips met yours in a rush of heat and urgency.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist and pull you into him even closer, deepening the kiss even more.

As your lips moved together, you could sense Haechan's eagerness, his fingers trailing along your skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist a little harder than before as he pushed you softly onto the bed.

The room seemed to spin around you as Haechan hovered over you, his gaze intense and filled with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. Jay's shocked silence from the doorway only added to the adrenaline.

Haechan's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he peppered more along your collarbone.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Haechan's hands roamed over your body.

Haechan pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. Once he saw that you weren’t uncomfortable, he grabbed the bottom of your dress and moved it up slightly to expose more skin.

Haehcan groaned slightly as he saw your panties were starting to get wet.

“Mmm all for me?” He traced his fingers along the edge of your lace underwear before looking back up at you with a teasing smile that made your heart race even faster than it already was.

You nodded slightly in response and bit your lower lip nervously.

“Use your words, princess. Haechan murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above a murmur. "All for you."

The words sent a wave of pleasure through Haechan's body as he leaned down, his lips just brushing against your neck, sending more chills down your spine.

"You’re such a good girl for me," Haechan growled, his voice low with lust.

Before you could respond, he pulled your dress up further, exposing even more of your body completely to him. His eyes lingered on your panties for a moment before he pulled them aside, gently tracing the outer edges of your folds with his finger.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Haechan’s finger brushed against your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Haechan,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Haechan smirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

He leaned down, slowly tracing his tongue along the outline of your panties before pulling them off completely.

You shivered as he gently blew on your heated skin.

“You ready?” Haechan murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, but you nodded quickly, desperate for more of his touch.

Haechan gently pushed your legs apart, revealing yourself to him completely. He stared at you for a moment, taking in every detail of your aroused body before leaning down to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips were warm and soft, sending shivers through you with every touch. As he trailed kisses higher and higher, your breath hitched.

A soft moan escaped from between your lips as Haechan's tongue flicked against the sensitive lips. He continued to tease you, his touch never quite reaching the place you desperately wanted him to be.

You squirmed beneath him, desperate for his touch, but he refused to give in. The teasing was almost unbearable. Your heart raced as you felt him moving closer, but still, he denied you.

Finally, just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Haechan pushed your legs further apart and dove between them without holding back. His tongue danced across your heated skin as he explored every inch of you.

Your back arched off the bed as you felt him start to get hard on your leg. You threw your head back, gasping for air as a wave of pleasure hit you.

Haechan continued, his tongue never faltering in its job to bring you to a place of pleasure. You felt amazing.

It wasn't long before the pleasure became too much to bear. A strong climax exploded through you.

You moaned his name, the sound echoing through the room as you came apart in his arms, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Once your body has relaxed, your breaths came in ragged gasps as you tried to catch your breath.

Haechan laid beside you, his eyes locked on your face as he continued to pant softly.

As you came back down to earth you got up from the bed, making Haechan sit up to watch what you were doing.

You got onto your knees right in front of him.

"Now it’s your turn," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. You could see the hunger in Haechan's eyes, causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

Haechan raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief lurking in his expression.

As he sat there, his gaze locked on yours, he slowly undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor.

You couldn't help but gaze at him as he stood there before you, every inch of him screaming for your touch.

Your heart raced as you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing a path down his chest and onto his stomach.

He shivered as your touch reached his stomach, but he didn't stop you. You continued to explore every inch of him, your fingers tracing the definition of his muscles, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you hesitated for a moment, uncertainty playing in your mind. But Haechan's eyes never left yours, urging you on.

With a deep breath, your hand dipped beneath the waistband, your fingers brushing against him. A soft moan escaped his lips, his eyes flickering shut for a moment before he opened them again, meeting yours once more.

You wrapped your hand around him gently, feeling him grow harder in your grasp. The warmth from him was intoxicating.

As you began to stroke him slowly, his eyes searched yours.

With a soft nod, you conveyed your permission through your eyes. And Haechan's gaze darkened, and his hunger became more pronounced. He reached out and slid your dress up and off, his fingers tracing down your arms as he removed it.

As the garment fell away, Haechan pulled you closer and gently moved your hair away from his face.

You moved closer to him as you licked the tip of his length.

Haechan let out a soft groan as your tongue flicked against him. You took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the taste of him. Haechan's eyes fluttered shut as you moved your tongue.

Haechan let out a small gasp as he hit the back of your throat, enjoying every second of it. You swirl your tongue around him.

He watched you intently, his eyes drinking at the sight of you on your knees before him, your hair falling down your back.

You lapped at him gently, your tongue tracing circles around his head. Haechan's hands gripped your hair tight, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold onto something in this moment.

As you felt him start to thrust into your mouth, you took him deeper, your throat contracting around him as he began to lose control.

Haechan groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter, pulling you deeper into himself. His hips bucked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tense as he was looking for his release.

You could feel his arousal growing more intense within your grasp. The sight of Haechan losing control above you sent shivers down your spine.

Finally, with a loud groan, Haechan thrust deep into your throat, a wave of pleasure washing over him as he came.

You felt his hot seed fill your throat, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Your body shook as Haechan's release flooded your senses, and you savored every moment of it. As he began to soften, you gently withdrew from him, the evidence of what happened dripping from your lips.

Haechan's eyes fluttered open, and he pulled you into his arms, his mind blurred with pleasure. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth, tasting himself on you.

As the two of you pulled away from each other you looked at the door and noticed Jay was gone. Not even noticing that he left.

You exchanged a knowing look with Haechan, both of you smiling. It seemed like the plan worked.

As you disentangled yourselves from each other, Haechan glanced down at your still-dripping lips. "We should probably clean up," he said, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, feeling heat in your cheeks as you headed back to the bathroom that was connected to the room.

As you cleaned up, you couldn't help but start to feel a little embarrassed. But Haechan's gentle touch and reassuring words made you feel at ease once again. He helped you clean up, his hands moving gently over your body as he wiped away the evidence of what just happened.

As the water ran into the sink, the two of you stood close, your eyes meeting in the mirror above.

When you were finished cleaning up, Haechan led you back to the bed, making sure to shut the door this time before making himself comfortable in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You could feel his heart beating against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur.

“We can’t stay here.” You whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

Haechan's arms tightened around you, his grip comforting and reassuring. “It’s Mark’s room, I already asked if we could use it.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but it was better than going home this tired.

As you snuggled closer to Haechan, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

"Thank you," you hum.

Haechan whispered back, “Shhh don’t thank me."

Soon after, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and drifting off to the sound of each other's breathing. And as you slept, the two of you knew that whatever was going on between you just got a lot more serious.

As you slumped into your seat at the dining hall, Chenle grinned at you from across the table. “Why do you look like you just went through hell?”

You glared at him. “Thanks, Chenle. Needed that today.”

Before you could respond, Jaemin chimed in with a smug look. “She went to Mark’s party last night.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by how he knew. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Life360,” Jaemin said, cutting you off with a proud grin. “I check everyone’s location before I go to sleep.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Of course you do.”

Chaeryeong, who had been quietly listening, suddenly leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Hold up…are we just going to ignore the fact that you went to Mark’s party without us?”

You sighed, already sensing the upcoming interrogation. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—”

“Please tell me you didn’t go with Jay!” Jaemin interjected, shaking his head like he couldn’t even believe it.

“No!” you snapped back, fed up with hearing his name.

“Then who?” Jeno asked, leaning in with curiosity.

You hesitated, looking around the table before mumbling, “Haechan…”

The silence that followed was loud. Chaeryeong’s jaw dropped while Chenle and Jeno exchanged glances. Jaemin was the first to break the silence, raising an eyebrow.

“Haechan? Seriously?”

The table went silent again, all eyes turning to you as your last word hung in the air.

“Haechan?” Chaeryeong echoed, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You went to a party with Haechan and didn’t tell us?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face. “It wasn’t like that.”

Chenle smirked, clearly entertained. “I don’t know… going to a party together, leaving us out of the loop—seems kinda suspicious.”

You groaned again, feeling their eyes on you like a shot light.

“It’s not what you think!”

“Then you better start explaining,” Chaeryeong said, crossing her arms. “Because we all know how this sounds.”

“I didn’t even plan to go! He convinced me at the last minute,” you defended yourself, glancing around the table. “And then Jay showed up, so Haechan… helped me avoid him.”

Jeno let out a small laugh. “So Haechan was your knight in shining armor, again?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted to mess with Jay. It wasn’t about me.”

“Still,” Chaeryeong leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically, “Did you spend the night with him?”

Instead of responding, you groaned and buried your face in your hands, too exhausted to deal with the flood of questions.

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically. “Oh my God! You did sleep with him, didn’t you?!”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “I promise it was all part of a plan!”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “A plan? What kind of plan involves you sleeping with Haechan?”

Chenle leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, I’m dying to hear this one.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We knew Jay would hate it, okay? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened even more. “Wait—So how did Jay know you two slept together?!”

“Well— um, he was right outside the door…”

Chaeryeong’s jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Wait. Wait. Jay heard you two through the door?!”

You squirmed in your seat, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares. “Not just heard us...”

Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He watched you two have sex?!”

Chenle, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t know you were into that,”

”I’m not!” You tried to defend yourself, “and it wasn’t even full-on sex!”

Chenle let out a high-pitched laugh, and Jeno shook his head, “Let me get this straight…You gave Haechan a blowjob while Jay was watching…”

“I mean if you put it like that it sounds weird…”

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with shock and amusement. “Oh my God, Y/n!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again. “It wasn’t like that!” you tried to explain, your voice muffled by your hands. “It just… happened!”

Chenle was practically doubled over with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honestly, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

Jeno sighed, trying to hold back his grin. “Okay, but seriously, what are you going to do now? You can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know.”

Jaemin looked at you sympathetically, his voice softer now. “Do you like him?”

You took a deep breath and didn’t answer.

The table fell silent, everyone waiting for your response. You could feel their eyes on you, especially Jaemin, as he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you exhaled, avoiding their gazes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

“It’s all so confusing. I didn’t expect any of this to happen, and now… I don’t know how I feel.”

Chaeryeong, always the first to jump in, sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t know, that’s already saying something. Maybe there’s more to this than you think.”

Chenle, now composed from his earlier laughing fit, added, “Honestly if it was just to get back at Jay, you wouldn’t be this torn up about it.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You’ve got to figure out if this was just a one-time thing or if there’s something between you and Haechan.”

Jaemin stayed quiet, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to not have all the answers yet,” he said gently. “But don’t ignore how you’re feeling just because it’s complicated.”

You groaned, “I’m just going to pretend like nothing happened and avoid him.”

The group groaned in unison, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s what we said not to do, Y/n,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “You can’t just avoid the guy forever.”

Chaeryeong crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “And you know Haechan. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

Chenle leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “Plus, avoiding him will just make him chase you even more.” You sighed, slumping in your chair.

Jaemin gave you a soft smile, his eyes kind. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. Just… don’t run away from it. If you need time, take it, but don’t bury your feelings.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of their advice. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to him… eventually.”

The group exchanged knowing looks, but no one pushed you further. At least, not yet.

It’s settled, you're going to avoid him. But of course, that didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped. Every time you tried to slip past him, he somehow spotted you first. It became a game of cat and mouse.

The awkwardness grew with each interaction, especially when you’d catch his eyes from across a room and immediately turn to flee. And as if that weren’t bad enough, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Texts, missed calls, even voice messages. Haechan was relentless.

“Y/n, can we talk? This is ridiculous.”

“Avoiding me isn’t gonna make this disappear.”

“At least hear me out before running.”

You groaned every time your phone lit up with his name. The tension built up so much that even your friends were getting fed up with your avoidance tactic.

“I told you he wouldn’t just drop it,” Chenle teased, scrolling through his phone as you sat together in the library.

Jaemin, who was sitting next to you, gave a gentle nudge. “You can’t keep this up forever, Y/n.”

You knew they were right, but the idea of actually facing Haechan—after everything—felt overwhelming. What would you even say? What did he want to say? The questions kept swirling in your mind, making it harder to act.

A small cough interrupted your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. You glanced up to see Haechan standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and a determined look on his face. The library was quiet, and it felt like the world had paused at that moment.

“How?” You looked back at your two friends who tried not to make eye contact with you.

”Traitors…” You mumbled.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice steady but it was laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You felt your heart race, the urge to run was almost overwhelming. “Not here,” you managed to reply, glancing nervously at your friends who were pretending to be absorbed in their work.

Haechan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to make this awkward, but avoiding me isn’t helping either. Can we go outside? Just for a minute?”

You hesitated, torn between wanting to confront your feelings and wanting to run away. The library felt suffocating, and with each passing moment, it seemed you had no choice but to face the situation head-on.

“Fine,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself. You stood up, feeling your friends’ eyes on you as you walked past Haechan and out of the library.

Once outside, the crisp air hit you, momentarily clearing your head. Haechan followed closely, and you turned to face him, arms crossed defensively.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

“I want to explain,” he said, his expression earnest.

“What happened that night… it wasn’t just a plan to get back at your ex for me.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “Then what was it?” you challenged, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.

“It was confusing. You’re confusing,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you…”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy. You felt your heart flutter despite your better judgment. “One chance,” you said finally, your voice steady but low.

“You get one chance.”

Haechan’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “One chance? That’s it?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Yeah,” you nodded, crossing your arms defiantly.

He took a step closer, “All I need is one date, and you will be hooked,” he stated, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that so? You think it’ll be that easy to impress me?”

He leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I know it will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity at his challenge. “And what if you can’t?”

“I will,” he replied, his tone turning serious, “Meet me at my apartment tonight around seven.”

“Tonight?” you echoed.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Haechan responded, determination clear on his face.

“What do you have planned?” you asked, trying to mask your excitement with nonchalance.

Haechan smirked, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust me. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Sounds like you’re setting the bar pretty high,” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice low and enticing. “I’ll make it unforgettable.”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to smile. “Fine, But if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “Just be ready at seven. I’ll pick you up.”

“Thought I was supposed to meet you there,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m a gentleman,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “A gentleman, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Only for you,” he shot back, leaning in a little closer.

“Okay, Mr. Gentleman. Just remember, I’m expecting something impressive,” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed,” he promised, his tone sincere.

Haechan stepped back, breaking the moment slightly.

“Just focus on being ready. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Fine. Seven it is,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you.

“Perfect,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

As the hours went by, you kept yourself busy getting ready. You were excited, yet you still felt a little sick from your anxiety. You didn’t know what to expect.

By seven o’clock, you stood in front of the mirror, nerves filling your stomach. After applying the final touches of makeup, you gave yourself one last look.

A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Taking a deep breath before opening the door.

Haechan stood there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted shirt and jeans. “Wow, you look incredible,” he said, his eyes full of awe

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Taking you back to my place,” he said with a playful smirk, extending his hand to you. “Let’s go.”

“As you walked together, the playful banter made it feel comfortable, just like it had before everything changed.”

Once you reached Haechan’s apartment, two guys walked out, exchanging casual greetings with him as they passed.

“Who were they?” you asked, curiosity growing.

“Just my roommates,” Haechan replied, “The tall one is Jisung, and the short one is Renjun.”

You nodded, glancing at the duo. Jisung gave you a friendly wave while Renjun shot you a playful grin before they disappeared down the hall and leaving you two alone.

“Come on in,” Haechan said, leading you inside. The apartment was cozy, decorated with posters and fairy lights that created a warm atmosphere. In the middle of the living room stood a makeshift pillow fort, complete with blankets draped over furniture and twinkling lights strung inside.

“No way, You remembered?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips as you took in the sight.

Haechan shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Of course, we used to always make pillow forts as a kid.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the nostalgic sight. “I can’t believe you went through the trouble of making a pillow fort just for me,” you said, stepping further inside.

Haechan grinned. “I thought it would be fun. Plus, who doesn’t love a good pillow fort?”

“True,” you replied, chuckling. “I’m already impressed.”

He led you inside the fort, where soft cushions and blankets awaited. The twinkling lights added a magical touch, casting a warm glow around the space. Haechan settled down next to you, leaning back against the pillows.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, eager to know what he had in store for the evening.

“Well,” he began, leaning in closer, “I thought we could watch some movies, eat snacks, and just relax. But first, I have a little surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A surprise?”

He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a couple of your favorite snacks. “I know how much you love these!” he said, grinning as he held them up.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “You went all out, didn’t you?”

Haechan shrugged. “I try. Now, let’s pick a movie. Any preferences?”

You glanced at the selection he had lined up on his laptop. “How about a rom-com?” you suggested, feeling playful.

“Perfect choice,” he said, clicking on a title that caught your eye. As the opening credits rolled, you both settled in, the cozy atmosphere making you feel at ease.

Throughout the movie, you find yourself laughing and stealing glances at Haechan. He seemed so relaxed and in his element, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth growing between you.

As the film reached an over the top romantic scene, you felt your heart race. Haechan turned to you, his gaze searching yours.

“What do you think?”

“It’s cute,” you replied, trying to hide your flustered state. “But a little unrealistic.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, like how they always seem to have the perfect timing for their big moments.”

“Exactly! Who gets interrupted right before a kiss?” you joked, shaking your head.

“Maybe we should test it,” he suggested, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

You looked at him, your breath hitching slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Haechan leaned in closer, the distance between you closing. Your heart raced as he brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, unsure if you could speak.

Haechan closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours softly. The kiss was gentle at first, but as you melted into the moment, it deepened.

When he pulled back, a playful smile danced on his lips.

“See, no one interrupted us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, feeling giddy. “You just interrupted your own kiss’’

"I guess I did," Haechan replied.

"So much for perfect timing." You teased.

Haechan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe we need more practice," he suggested, his tone light but laced with his usual teasing.

You felt your cheeks warm, torn between giving in to the moment and addressing the elephant in the room.

"Haechan," you started, your voice soft but serious,

"What are we doing here? Is this just... fun for you?"

His expression sobered, and he took your hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "It's not just fun," he said, his gaze intense. "I meant what I said earlier. I can't stop thinking about you, Y/n. This... us... it means something to me."

Your heart raced at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what about before? The plan, getting back at my ex..."

Haechan sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I know how it looked. At first, maybe it was about that. But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. You became real for me."

You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. "And now?"

"Now," he said, leaning closer, "I want to see where this goes. For real this time. No games, no plans. Just us."

The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch. You found yourself leaning in. "Just us," you echoed, your lips mere inches from his.

Haechan closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more passionate than the first. You melted into it, your hand finding its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Haechan rested his forehead against yours. "So," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, "Am I living up to my promise of an unforgettable night?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension from earlier dissolving into a warm, giddy feeling. "It's a good start," you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck. "But you still have a lot of work to do."

Haechan grinned, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Challenge accepted," he said with a smirk.

You watched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest, wondering what surprise he had in mind next. "What are you doing?”

"You'll have to wait and see," Haechan replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that had you both anxious and excited to find out.

As Haechan's whispers trailed off, you couldn't help but feel excited. Your heart raced in your chest, and you knew that whatever he had in mind, it was sure to be unforgettable.

He began trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and over your head. The sensation sent a shiver through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Your hands found their way to his back, drawing him closer as his lips continued their trail down your body.

His fingers grazed the delicate skin of your stomach, making you shiver beneath his touch. He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, and you knew he was contemplating your next move. You saw the desire in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel aroused and eager to continue.

His hands drifted downwards, tracing the curve of your hips before gently tugging at your pants. He looked up at you again, seeking permission with his eyes. You nodded, giving him the green light to continue.

As Haechan's fingers danced beneath the waistband of your pants, you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. This was real.

His hands slid beneath your waistband, pulling your pants down slowly, revealing more and more of your skin to him. He kissed his way down your body, his mouth leave a trail of wet kisses.

His fingers trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and demanding, and you responded him with equal passion. You could feel him get harder through the fabric of his clothes, and it made you even wetter.

You pawed at his clothes, silently telling him to take them off.

Haechan followed your cues, his movements quick as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and stomach. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them.

You stared at him in awe, your eyes locked onto him. His eyes caught yours and a smirk formed on his face. "Miss seeing me like this?" he asked teasingly.

"Mmmh," you replied breathlessly, your gaze traveling from his perfectly toned chest to the definition of his stomach, and finally to the hard bulge in his boxers.

Haechan chuckled and stepped out of the rest of his clothing, standing before you completely naked.

Without another word, he pulled you close to him, his erection pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the desire that kept growing with each passing second. It was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in it.

Haechan's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer as he began to grind against you. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your body responding to his touch.

His lips found yours once again, slipping his tounge in your mouth.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs, teasing your already wet folds. You gasped into his kiss, your body arching towards him.

His fingers explored deeper inside you. You could feel his erection pressing against you, begging to be inside you.

"Are you ready for me?" he groaned, his breath warm against your skin.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm ready."

Without another moment of hesitation, Haechan positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive skin. You let out a moan as he teased you.

He slowly pressed inside you, every inch of him filling you up. His eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tip of his cock stretching you open, a feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing each word.

"Perfect," you gasped, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer.

Haechan began to move, his hips thrusting into you with a rhythm that matched your own breathing.

Your hands clawed at his back, holding him close as he moved within you. The sound of his name falling from your lips was like music to his ears- a sound he never wanted to end.

Sweat began to trickle down Haechan's forehead, and the muscles in his arms tensed as he held you close to him.

As he thrust deeper into you, the walls of your body clenched around him, pulling him closer. His breath grew heavier, and he grabbed your face to look at him.

Your moans grew louder. The sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh filled the air, joining together with the hurried gasps and heavy breathing.

Your hips met his, matching his rhythm. You could feel your climax building.

"Donghyuck," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close."

The use of his real name felt different, he felt almost primal as he growled in your ear. "That's it. Come for me baby."

As your body began to tremble, an intense wave of pleasure washing over you, Haechan thrust into you with a faster pace. His eyes locked on yours, he groaned, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back his own release.

"I'm—I'm close too," he gasped, his eyes almost black from the pleasure.

The sound of your name falling from his lips made you feel like you were on the edge of the world. Your body shook as your climax hit its peak.

Just the sight of you orgasming sent Haechan over the edge. With a final thrust, he pulled out and came all over your stomach, painting you with his cum.

Breathless and panting, you watched as he collapsed beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven. You could feel the slickness of your arousal, mixed with his cum, coating your skin

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Haechan pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.

After cleaning up, you and Haechan settled back into the cozy pillow fort. The twinkling lights cast a warm glow as you cuddled close, wrapped in soft blankets. A comfortable silence fell between you.

Haechan gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and a hint of nervousness.

"Y/N," he began softly, "tonight has been amazing. Being with you like this, it just feels right. I know we started this in an unconventional way, but my feelings for you are real."

Your heart fluttered as he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want this to be just one night. I want to build something real with you, to see where this could go." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. "Yes," you replied, squeezing his hand. "I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Haechan's face lit up with joy. He pulled you closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Round two?" he murmured, holding in his laugh as you slapped his chest.

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yutarot · 5 months ago

Text

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago.

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation.

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.”

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

“thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out.

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces.

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home.

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush.

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice.

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask.

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you.

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation.

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet.

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face.

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you.

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you.

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him.

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.”

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon.

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble.

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun.

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up.

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply.

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question.

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little.

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it.

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts.

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand.

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it.

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words.

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself.

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark.

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.”

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response.

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.”

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall.

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning.

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth.

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre.

but you weren't going to say no.

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up.

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that.

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face.

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun.

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed.

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in.

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament.

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry.

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room.

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself.

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do.

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper.

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do.

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you.

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there.

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night.

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process.

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue.

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright.

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say.

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain.

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest.

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagine how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say.

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer.

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity.

your love.

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater.

it’s love.

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness.

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home.

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire vacation (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret.

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time.

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest.

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.”

you turn to him in offence.

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness.

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time.

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one.

not even close.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin #jaemin

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handlemehyuck · 4 months ago

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i can teach you ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

・❥・ mdni 18+ boyfriend texts plus newly fwb!chenle. reader is sexually inexperienced/curious + varying degrees of insecurity, mostly fluffy

・❥・ please forgive me 😣 this was supposed to be my birthday post… it’s almost a month late >.< but still coming at you all with the same gratitude! thank you for reading my posts, following, and sharing lovely feedback—all the interactions warm my heart 💖 also, please look forward to my haechan series! there’s a taglist too, so lmk if you want to be added! 💋

#nct dream fake texts #nct fake texts #nct fluff #nct dream reactions #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream suggestive #mark lee fake texts #renjun fake texts #jeno fake texts #haechan fake texts #jaemin fake texts #chenle fake texts #jisung fake texts

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markleessodalite · 5 months ago

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Loving You in Little Ways: NCT Dream

headcanon: how do the dreamies express their love for you in those small, almost unnoticed ways?

warnings: none :D its all fluffy baby

Mark:

Your humor becomes his.

Not only does he start stealing your jokes to use on his own friends, he also finds humor in things that might not have amused him before, just because they make you giggle.

Mark is already someone who thinks everything is funny, so how lucky is he to meet you, someone who finds humor in every situation?

There is rarely a time you two are together that you don’t have him in fits, and he thinks everyone should be able to experience the pure laughter and joy that you bring him.

(although his friends would argue that the jokes are not nearly as funny when he’s the one delivering them)

Renjun:

He gets you everything you need before you ask. Even before you realize you need it.

If he’s getting out of the shower and notices your moisturizer is a little less than half full, he’s stopping by the store to get you more tomorrow.

If you have the perfect pair of emerald earrings to wear with your dress tonight, but no necklace to match, he’s taking you to the jewelry store before the function.

All your special vitamins, hair care products, your favorite coffee, that one very specific brand of gel pens you use exclusively– whatever it is, Renjun just has a talent for noticing when you need it, and he’s the one to get it for you.

Jeno:

Little touches, anytime, anywhere.

Jeno may not always be super showy when it comes to expressing his love for you. He’s not a grand gestures kind of guy.

But there’s no doubt in your mind how he feels about you when his hands are on you 24/7.

Whether he’s lacing his fingers with yours while cuddled on the couch, pulling on the belt loop of your jeans to pull you in for a quick kiss, or tugging on the sleeve of your coat trying to get your attention off your phone and onto him.

You rarely go for more than a few minutes without feeling his fingers tracing along your body, searching for any little space to settle themselves in.

Haechan:

He wants to invite you to everything.

Sometimes dating Hyuck feels like dating all of his friends, too. If the group is planning to do something together, Hyuck’s first question is whether he can invite you or not.

Sure, it was a little awkward when you were sat on a bench watching them all play basketball, even though you were the only gf there, and you have absolutely no interest in basketball.

But Hyuck just can’t stand the idea of going out and having fun without you! Especially if its something thats not going to be fun– if he has errands to run, he needs you there with him to keep him sane.

If Donghyuck is going literally anywhere, there’s a 99% chance he’s begging you to go with him.

Jaemin:

Jaemin doesn’t love in little ways.

Everything with him is big, and grand, and romantic– and it doesn’t take much for small moments to become big.

One minute you’re cuddling on the couch, the next minute he’s twirling you around, copying the dancers on the tv.

One minute you’re sharing a soda in the kitchen, the next minute he’s cooking an extravagant meal for you to share at a candlelit table.

Jaemin has such a talent for making a random weeknight feel like the pinnacle of a romantic holiday, for turning microscopic sparks into fireworks, that you’re sure he somehow plans every single moment of your time together beforehand.

In reality, Jaemin just loves you, so truly and dearly, that he doesn’t know how to show it in little ways.

Chenle:

He listens. Particularly, he listens in moments when he’d usually be talking.

Chenle loves to talk, to discuss, to gossip, to yap on and on and on, and its certainly no different around you.

But in the quieter moments, when its just the two of you, he’s not talking or discussing or gossiping. He’s hanging on your every word, listening to you as if your story about an almost-forgotten high school memory is sacred scripture.

He takes everything you say to heart, which is how you discovered he’s a little more sensitive than you initially thought (and now you know not to joke about those few little things that make him tick).

He listens to you, drinking in every string of poetry that falls from your lips, and he remembers, ingraining every detail into his own brain until he knows you better than you know yourself.

Jisung:

He stares. He just kinda… stares at you.

You thought it was weird at first, especially when you would catch him and he’d immediately look away as if he’d just broken some unspoken rule.

Eventually you realized this staring was more a symptom of Jisung not totally knowing how to show you he loves you.

He’ll notice your hands close to each other while walking at night, and he’ll think about how he wants to hold it. Then he’ll think about whether he should hold it or not. Maybe you wouldn’t want him to, or maybe if he reaches for it you’ll pull away at the same time and it’ll be awkward…

and that’s when you notice him looking down at you a little too long, leaving you wondering what he’s thinking.

Of course, him being a little timid about affection isn’t the only reason he stares at you. He also finds you quite pretty– utterly captivating, actually, which is the main reason why he can’t stop looking at you.

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tddyhyck · 26 days ago

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lee donghyuck [ l.dh ]

⇢ ice cream thief [ haechan x afab!reader ] w.c. 12.8k

summary ⇢ someone’s been stealing haechan’s ice cream

⇢ has never been to oovoo javer [ haechan x afab!reader ] w.c. 4.1k

summary ⇢ hooking up with the uber driver

⇢ fluffy bunny [ haechan x afab!reader ] w.c. 3.3k

summary ⇢ haechan is needy for you

⇢ Tuesday [ bf!hyuck x reader x mark x jeno x jaemin x jisung ]

summary ⇢ your boyfriend lets his friends take their turns with you but only on Tuesday

⇢ perv!haechan

⇢ freaky loser hyuck

⇢ horny boyfriend / pt. 2 / pt. 3

⇢ read here ( hyorny hours )

⇢ haechan x reader x chenle

⇢ nohyuck boyfriends

⇢ sudden pt 3 & hyuck pov

#haechan masterlist #nct dream masterlist #nct 127 masterlist #nct masterlist #haechan smut #tddyhyck navi #haechan x reader

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nanamelody · 1 year ago

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𖤐⤸₊˚ ִֶָ ❜ — sou a Carol, tenho 22 anos, e moro em São Paulo. Biomédica formada, tentando esvaziar a cabeça e não pirar.

Escrevo (tento) entre um plantão e outro.

Outra conta: @byuncarol04

🏴‍☠ ٬ . ִ ֗ ៵ʾ nctzen, exo-l, army

no momento, esse blog é dedicado ao nct dream 🜲 ❜ ࣪

🐻 masterlist

🎡 avisos

𑁍 ࣪˖ pedidos abertos

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘ ❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ♡゙

carol loves jaemin®

#masterlist #nct dream masterlist #react nct dream #nct dream fluffy #mark #renjun #jeno #haechan #jaemin #chenle #jisung

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ohhmydyosfics · 5 months ago

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(Renle) Old, New, Borrowed, Blue

The fake engagement becomes an easy routine, and the two of them fall into step together without any hesitation.

But with so many people telling him all about the “new chapter in life” he’s starting, it serves as a painful reminder to Chenle that he still hasn’t mustered the strength to flip to the next page.

(Or, Renjun and Chenle pretend to be engaged for freebies; here’s everything that goes wrong.)

#Old #New #Borrowed #Blue #RenleRenjun #Renjun #Chenle #NCT #NCT U #NCT Dream #fanfic #fake dating #fake relationship #friends to lovers #pining #mutual pining #cute #fluffy #funny #fave

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sincerelyneo · 2 months ago

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training wheels | z.cl

“it’s not like i��m asking to be your wife”

💿now playing: training wheels by melanie martinez

❯ summary: When your jerk of a boyfriend dumps you for being a virgin, the last thing you expected was to find comfort in your roommate, Chenle. But here you are, and now you're asking him to take your virginity…

❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader

❯ genre: roommates to lovers, smut

❯ words: 4.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, loss of virginity, protected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, slight innocence kink, fingering, pet names, very fluffy sex, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, basically just 4kish works of chenle coaxing you through it.

“It’s not me, it’s you.”

Jeong Jaehyun may have been your first boyfriend, but you’re pretty sure that’s not how that line is supposed to go. At least, that’s not how they say it in the movies. And still, here you are—sitting alone at the little bistro downtown, thirty minutes after he ended things and walked out.

Jaehyun’s made it painfully clear he’s done with you. But, there’s still some small part of you that expected him to come back, apologise, maybe even beg you to forgive him, say he made a mistake. He doesn’t. So you pay for the drink you’ve barely touched and decide to make your way back to your apartment.

The breakup doesn’t hurt in the traditional sense—you weren’t necessarily in love with Jaehyun. He was sweet, sure, and hot enough. But there was always something missing. Maybe that’s why, every time things started to get physical and he wanted to take his pants off, you freaked out and pulled away. Left him hanging. Blue-balled him, as he so charmingly put it. His words, not yours.

What stings is everything he said before he left—because it was honest, and it’s going to follow you into every relationship after him.

"It’s normal for a guy to wanna fuck his girlfriend, Y/N."

"I’ve waited three months."

"If you’re not ready, I’m not interested."

Yeah, you’ve changed your mind, you think he’s an asshole.

The words circle your mind until you get to your apartment. Your heels click dully against the hallway floor as you fumble with your keys, a sigh escaping before the door even opens.

Chenle, your roommate, is on the sofa. His legs folded underneath him like a child and a deck of playing cards are spread out on the coffee table. Solitaire, probably, knowing him.

He doesn’t look up when you come in, just says, “You’re back early.”

You toe your heels off in the entry way and shrug off your coat, letting it fall onto the back of one of the bar stools as you make your way through the kitchen to join him on the sofa.

“Yeah,” you mumble, voice scratchy from the cold. “Dinner ended early. Jaehyun decided to break up with me.”

That gets his attention. He glances up, blinking, a three of hearts dangling between his fingers. “Woah. Fuck me. Seriously?”

You nod. “Yep. He said—and I quote—‘It’s not me, it’s you.’”

Chenle lets out a short, incredulous laugh, dropping the card onto the messy pile in front of him. “Damn. What a fucking asshole.”

You flop down beside him, curling your knees up under your chin. “He’s not wrong,” you say, quieter now. “I mean... he kind of had a point.”

Chenle tilts his head at you sceptically. “No chance. Look, I’m no Casanova or anything, but even I know the line is supposed to be ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’”

You shake your head and laugh, defeated. “That’s what I thought too.” Then, a sigh drags itself out of you. “Except... the reason he broke up with me is because he doesn’t think dating a virgin is worth the hassle. That he’s tired of waiting, so he just... left.”

“So... because you didn’t want to sleep with him, he decided you weren’t worth dating?” He asks, leaning back against the couch now, arms crossed.

You glance at him. “Pretty much.”

Chenle doesn’t know what’s more shocking—the fact that you (his pretty little roommate who’s sexier than sin and sweeter than sugar) are still holding onto your v-card, or the fact that your asshole boyfriend, who he never really had a valid reason to hate before, didn’t think you were worth the wait.

Well, he’s glad he’s got a reason now.

He hums, thinking. “What a dick.”

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I mean, maybe he’s right. Maybe something is wrong with me. Maybe I’m broken.”

Fuck no. He’s making you erase that thought, asap.

Chenle straightens, shaking his head. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N. Wanting to wait—or not wanting sex at all—doesn’t mean you’re broken. That’s just... your decision. A good guy would respect that.”

You chew on the edge of your thumbnail, gaze dropping to the floor. It’s a bad habit you can’t quite kick, especially when you’re feeling small.

“It’s not like I don’t want to have sex,” you say eventually, voice so quiet it's almost like you’re confessing something shameful. “I do. I just...I keep dating guys who’ve, like... been with lots of girls. Guys who know what they’re doing. And I don’t. And it makes me feel...” You trail off, cheeks burning and your throat tight. “It makes me feel embarrassed.”

The words hang there, raw and a little pathetic, and you hate how small they make you sound.

Eventually, Chenle shifts beside you, nudging your knee lightly with his. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

You shrug, because it doesn’t feel like bullshit when you’re the one living it. When you’re the one with the anxiety that won’t let you get past a makeout session with some light petting.

Chenle huffs a breath, raking a hand through his hair. “Seriously, Y/N. Anyone who makes you feel like you're not enough because you haven’t ticked some box yet is a fucking idiot.”

That gets a quiet laugh out of you. You finally glance up at him, and his face is serious, sincere in a way that Chenle usually hides behind jokes and sarcasm. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’re not less because you’re waiting. You’re not less because you’re nervous. And you’re definitely not less because you’re a little unsure about what you’re doing.” His voice drops a little, softer now. “You deserve someone patient. Someone who makes you feel good about yourself. Not some dickhead who’s counting down the days like it’s a fucking chore.”

You duck your head, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s... an adult and still completely clueless.”

Chenle leans in a little, catching your eyes with his own. There’s no teasing there, no judgment—just something warm.

“Everyone’s clueless the first time. That’s the whole point. You’re not supposed to be good at it. You’re supposed to figure it out with someone who gives a shit about you. Not some guy who’s just trying to get his dick wet.”

You snort at that despite yourself, and Chenle grins, pleased with himself for making you laugh, even if it’s just a little. After a moment, you tilt your head, studying him.

“Were you... clueless your first time?”

Chenle lets out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back against the couch dramatically. “Oh, hell yeah.”

You smile. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. It was... honestly, it was embarrassing as fuck. Blew my load in, like, two minutes.” He squeezes his eyes together and shivers at the memory. “The girl was very polite about it, though, but yeah. Mortifying.”

You snort, the mental image almost too hard to believe. In the years you’d been Chenle’s roommate, he’d probably had one situationship—max. You knew he wasn’t exactly a player, and he didn’t fuck around a lot. Christ, he spent his Saturday nights playing solo solitaire on the coffee table.

But still... he was hot. And hot people could always fuck... right?

“Oh my God,” you giggle, covering your mouth. “Two minutes?”

“If that,” he says, eyes crinkling again. “Might’ve been one and a half. I’m a little generous with myself. Male ego and all that.”

You laugh so hard your sides ache, and Chenle’s grin only widens. He likes seeing you laugh—loves it, actually. He thinks he’d like to make you laugh more often. It’s so pretty, the sound, the way your whole face lights up. Why on Earth that asshole you were dating didn’t want to wait longer to hear all the other sounds you’d make is completely beyond him.

When the laughter dies down, the quiet that settles between you isn’t heavy—it’s soft. Comfortable. It gives you a moment to just look at him. And something stirs in your chest, something you can’t quite name.

You and Chenle hadn’t been friends before you moved in together, but he’s always been so nice, so funny, so good to you. Even now, the fact that he’s willing to embarrass himself just to make you feel better… It’s trust.

It’s attractive.

Before you can second-guess it, the words slip out:

“Would you... would you be my first?”

“What—” he gapes at you and his voice cracks halfway through the word. He clears his throat, trying again. “Y/N, you…you can’t just ask stuff like that.”

Your heart stutters, nerves spiking—but before you can backpedal, you see the pink blooming on his cheeks, the way his hands flail a little uselessly in the air before he scrubs them through his hair.

“It’s not—I’m not saying no,” he rushes out. “It’s just—holy shit, Y/N.”

You blink at him. “Why are you freaking out more than me?”

Chenle groans and slumps back against the couch, covering his face with both hands. He’s freaking out because, despite all his confidence, he’s not sure he’d be any better now than he was as a clueless teenager losing his virginity.

Sure, he’s not totally inexperienced, but... this is you.

The girl across the hall he may or may not have jerked off to once or twice. The girl he thinks is so fucking pretty it physically hurts sometimes. The girl he’s definitely got a crush on. The girl who’s a virgin.

Fuck.

He’d be lucky if he lasts a full minute inside you.

“Because it’s you. And this is...we’ve established is a big deal to you. And I don’t wanna—I don’t know—ruin it or make it weird or...” He trails off, peeking at you through his fingers.

You chew on your lip for a second, then scoot a little closer, tugging gently at his wrist until he drops his hands and looks at you properly.

“I’m comfortable with you, Chenle,” you say quietly. “I trust you. I won’t feel embarrassed, I promise. Not with you.”

He flushes, looking like he might actually combust right there on the couch. His cheeks are pink, the tips of his ears even worse, and his hands keep fidgeting—picking at a loose thread on his sweatshirt, tapping against his knee. He keeps opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something but can’t figure out what.

Finally, he manages, “Y/N, you’re upset after the breakup. I don’t want you to feel, like... pressured or anything. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it.”

Translation: I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret me.

“I won’t, I swear I won’t,” you say, sitting up to meet his wide, nervous eyes. “Look, it’s not like I’m asking to be your wife, Chenle. I’m not asking for a relationship or anything crazy. I just...” You pause, feeling your cheeks heat. “I want to get over this stupid hurdle. And I trust you.”

Something flickers in Chenle’s eyes then. His fidgeting stills all at once, and before you can react, he moves, shifting his weight and hovering over you on the couch, palms braced on either side of your body.

His pupils are blown wide, dark and stormy as they fix on you. His voice drops, “I’m not a fucking tick box either, Y/N. I’m not a hurdle for you to just get over.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart skips like it doesn’t know how to beat properly anymore.

“I know,” your voice trembles. “You’re kind, Chenle. I know you won’t laugh at me or make me feel like shit about it after. You’re the only guy I know who fits the bill for this.”

He brings one hand up, brushing a knuckle against your cheekbone—barely there, like he’s scared you might vanish if he touches you too hard.

“No, you don’t know,” he murmurs. “I’m saying, if we do this... I’m the only guy who fits the bill. Ever.”

Your throat tightens at that, and your cheeks flush from the heat of his palm, which is now cupping your jaw.

“Chenle—”

“I don’t want to be something you regret,” he says. “But I also... I don’t think I can say no to you right now. So you need to take this offer off the table.”

Your hands slide up under the hem of his sweatshirt, fingertips skimming the warm skin of his waist. He shivers under your touch. “I don’t want to take the offer off the table,” you breathe. “I want you.”

That’s all it takes. He kisses you.

It’s not rushed or hurried—it’s careful, like he’s asking permission with every brush of his lips against yours. His mouth is warm, breath a little shaky, and he tastes like that mint gum he’s always chewing. You’d never been kissed like this before, all teeth and tongue and so much aching need. You don’t want him to stop.

Especially when his hands find your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and he drags you closer, slotting you between his thighs. You can feel him already, hard against you through the thin barrier of your clothes, and it sends a dizzy rush through your blood.

You find yourself clutching at him—his sweatshirt, tugging at the hem, slipping your hands beneath to find hot skin. And God, is he solid. His stomach jumps beneath your palm, muscles tensing when your fingers splay across his ribs. You want to touch all of him. You want to learn from him.

He makes a soft, broken noise—somewhere between a moan and a plea—and pulls back just enough to breathe, just enough to speak.

“Easy, baby,” he says, eyes heavy-lidded. “You gotta slow down.”

You barely register the words—too consumed by the way that pet name sounds coming from his mouth, in that rugged tone, directed at you. It makes your whole body throb.

You bite your lip, still tugging at his sweatshirt. “But I want you. Now. All of you.”

He exhales, forehead now pressing to yours, eyes darting down to your lips, then back up like he’s trying to ground himself.

“And you’ll have me,” he says quietly. “Every fucking bit of me. Just—let me have this. Let me take my time. Let me enjoy you.”

The words sink in slowly and they make your chest tighten. You blink up at him, breath catching. “I thought… I thought guys just wanted to get themselves off during sex.”

He cups your cheek, thumb brushing across your flushed skin, lingering at the corner of your swollen mouth before he lets it rest gently against your pouty lips.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, “but not every guy has the prettiest fucking girl underneath him.”

Your breath stutters.

“I’d be a fucking idiot,” he goes on, voice curling beneath every syllable, “if I didn’t put my mouth on your pretty pussy and watch you cum.”

You let out a whimper from the back of your throat—half shocked, half desperate.

“Bet you’d be so fucking hot,” he muses, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip again, slower this time. “Bet I wouldn’t be able to look away.”

Your hips shift involuntarily at his words, heat pooling low in your belly. The way he’s looking at you—like he’s already burning the view of you eager and squirming beneath him into his memory—makes your body vibrate with anticipation.

"Lele..." you whisper, breathless and unsure where the hell that nickname just slipped out from. Something about being this exposed, this vulnerable, has clearly made your brain foggy.

He just smiles, leaning in with his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth, deliberately not kissing you. “You said you trust me, yeah?”

You nod, but his eyebrows raise, the demand clear in his expression. He wants the words.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Then let me take care of you,” he whispers. “Let me teach you. Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like.”

You gasp softly as he trails his hand down your jaw, then your neck, so attentively until his fingers skate lightly beneath the hem of your dress.

“Can I...?” His voice is almost a growl now when he asks, fingertips hovering just above your thighs, teasing at the edge of the fabric.

You nod with a shaky breath. “Yes.”

He peels your dress off carefully, until you’re beneath him in nothing but a pair of black panties. When his eyes drop to your bare chest, he exhales slowly, chest rising like he’s trying not to worship you too hard, too fast.

"Fuck," he groans, sucking in a breath. “You’re gorgeous.”

Your arms instinctively twitch to cover yourself, but he catches your wrists gently and presses a kiss to each one before guiding your hands back to your sides.

“Don’t hide from me,” he demands. “Let me see you.”

And somehow, with the way he says it—all soft and awed—it’s easier. Easier to let him see. Easier to let him lean in and kiss along your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder, into the valley of your breasts.

And that’s when you thread your fingers into his hair, encouraging him to sink lower until his mouth trails over your sternum, then your stomach. His kisses so soft that they make your thighs clench.

“Still okay?” he asks, glancing up with burning eyes and a pair of his own swollen lips.

You nod, whispering, “Please, don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down steadily, steady enough that you could stop him if you wanted him to, but you don’t. You lift your hips instead, offering yourself up.

“I still can’t believe you asked me to do this,” he says, getting the fabric completely off. “You could’ve had anyone.”

“I didn’t want anyone else,” you whisper. “Just you.”

“Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea what you’re doing to me—lying here like this, letting me be your first. Letting me be the one who gets to see you like this. Taste you.” He pauses, jaw tight. “Fuck—you’re so pretty.”

You want to clamp your legs shut at that, but you already know there’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen. Instead, you let him lean in, his mouth brushing a kiss to the inside of your bare thigh. Then another—higher. And another.

Until you're trembling. Until a whimper escapes you. And he just grins against your skin.

“You’re already shaking,” he says with a smirk, licking a leisurely stripe along the apex of your thigh. “I’ve barely touched you.”

You nod, cheeks burning. “I—I can’t help it.”

“I know, baby,” he says, and then he’s kissing higher again, closer to your cunt, until his breath is ghosting over where you’re aching for him the most. “That’s what I like about you. So innocent. So fucking eager.”

You’re trembling now, fingers fisting the back of the sofa, eyes snapping shut just as his mouth drags closer and his tongue licks a stripe along your pussy—languid and unhurried like he’s savouring every second.

“I’ve thought about this, you know?” he says, voice tight. “Thought about what you’d taste like. What you’d sound like when I finally got my mouth on you. Every day since you moved in.”

Your breath stutters, and a helpless sound slips from your lips. “E-every day?”

That makes him smile, eyes flicking up to yours. “Yeah,” he breathes. “And that sound—fuck, I could live off it.”

And then he dips lower. His tongue barely brushes where you’re soaked for him, but your back still arches off the sofa with a gasp anyway. You can’t even think—you’re just feeling. Overwhelmed. Burning.

He hums against you, satisfied. Like this was always meant to happen—his hands anchoring your hips, his mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking and lapping at you with skill, whilst his eyes stay locked on your face.

You’re completely falling apart beneath him, thighs shaking as he takes his time putting his tongue to work. Every choked whisper of his name tumbles from your lips without permission, and when your hands fly to his hair, fingers threading through the strands, he groans.

It’s low and guttural, and the vibration of it against you makes you cry out.

“Yes,” he pants. “I can feel how close you are. You’re shaking so bad, baby. You gonna cum for me already?”

You nod, frantic, breath hitching. “Yes, Lele—please,” you moan. “Please don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t.

One hand holds you open, steady, while the other slips down past your thigh until a single finger slides into your dripping pussy. You pant at the intrusion, eyes wide, and when he sees your pupils dilate, he starts to move—slow at first, then deeper, working you open until he’s knuckle deep and you tremble under his touch.

Then his mouth is back on you. Tongue circling, dipping, coaxing. Worshipping. And you’re not sure when the sob catches in your throat, only that it does—and that he hears it.

His thumb brushes along your hip, grounding you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” The finger inside you curls just right, and his voice drops: “Give it to me, baby. Let me have it. Let me see you cum for me, yeah?”

Then his mouth is back on your clit. It’s a steady rhythm but not as gentle now. But still, it’s matched to the overwhelmed, wild beat of your panting.

“I can feel it,” he says against you. “You’re so fucking close.”

You nod, whimpering. “I can’t—I—”

“Yes, you can,” he urges. “Cum for me, baby. Let go.”

It crashes into you—your orgasm—ripping through you like it’s both too much and still not enough. You cry out his name, fists tangled in his hair, and he doesn’t stop. Not until you’re spent and shaking, breathless, and sinking back into the cushions like you’ve melted into them like a puddle.

Only then does he ease off, his mouth softening against your skin. He presses one last kiss to your thigh before drawing his hand away. You’re still gasping when he rises over you, arms braced on either side of your head.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “You did so well for me.”

You blink up at him, but a tear slips down your cheek without you meaning it to. He catches it with his thumb, frowning gently.

“Hey… are you okay? Was that too much? Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head. “No. Just… no one’s ever done that for me before.”

Relief washes over him, and he leans down, brushing his nose against yours. “They should have. They fucking should have.”

“But if they had,” you sigh. “I wouldn’t be here now—asking you to fuck me.” Your hand trails down his chest, pawing at that sweatshirt again. “Please, Lele. I need you inside me. Now.”

His own breath catches, a sharp inhale trying to hold himself together, but the look in his eyes is pure wreckage.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he groans. “You can’t say shit like that to me or I’ll end up having a repeat of my first time.”

You grin. “That’s rich coming from the man who said he wanted to watch me cum with his mouth on my pussy.”

“Fuck, don’t repeat that back either,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Seriously, baby, you have no idea how hard I’m trying not to cum in my pants right now.”

You tilt your head, voice teasing. “You could always take your pants off and cum on my stomach instead.”

“Y/N,” he growls. “What happened to my sweet, innocent girl who was too scared to show me the prettiest tits in the world two seconds ago?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the only one who gets to have a dirty mouth in this relationship?”

His brow lifts, eyes narrowing in amusement. “This relationship, huh?”

You freeze. “No—I—that’s not what I meant—”

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, then leans in, lips padding against your skin as he nibbles softly at your earlobe. “Yes, it is. If we go any further, that’s exactly what you meant. I’m the only man for the bill ever, remember?”

You whimper, and he smirks, victorious.

“Glad we cleared that up.”

And then he’s moving—finally stripping off that damn sweatshirt in one fluid motion, revealing warm, flushed skin and lean muscle that shivers under your stare. Without another second, his mouth slams back onto yours before you can compliment him, kissing you hard and rough until your lips are pouty and swollen all over again.

When he breaks the kiss, it’s only to shove his pants down and fumble with his boxers, his breath ragged as he slides a condom over his cock. Then, he peppers kisses along your cheek until his forehead rests against yours.

“You’re sure about this?” his voice shakes as he breathes against your lips. “Tell me now if you’re not.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper, arms winding around his neck, pulling him close—pulling him in. “I want you. I want this.”

Chenle curses softly at that and shifts between your legs. His hand slides behind your thigh, gently parting you as he lines himself up with your pussy.

“Then I’ve got you,” he says. “I’ll take care of you. Just hold on to me, yeah?”

And you do—fingers clutching at his shoulders, heart hammering in your chest because this is happening—with him. When he finally pushes inside, it hits you all at once. The sharp, stretching ache of it. The fullness.

You can’t help but wince, a quiet hiss escaping through clenched teeth.

His thumb reaches up to stroke your cheek, his voice immediately soft. “You good?”

Tears sting at your eyes, but you nod anyway, adjusting slowly, breath by breath, until the sting eases and you feel the pain turn to something else—something good.

Only then does he move.

You gasp, arching into him, nails dragging down his back as he builds a rhythm that’s toe-curling. His lips find your neck, muttering your name, and you moan back eagerly because of how good it feels—how good he feels.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” he groans, forehead still pressed to yours. “So tight, so wet—shit, baby, you were made for me.”

You whimper, clutching him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “Faster,” you beg. “Please, Chenle—I need more.”

His mouth crashes into yours again, this time messier, hungrier. He pulls back just enough to look down between your bodies, watching the way he disappears inside you. A strangled sound leaves him.

“Look at that,” he pants. “Taking me so well. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You can barely breathe—your whole body slick with that tension curling tighter and tighter in your belly as he begins to thrust harder, deeper. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room. And still, his hands never leave you—one cupping your face, the other gripping your thigh.

“You okay?” he asks between thrusts. “Still with me? Still good?”

You nod feverishly, tears pricking your eyes again. “So good. So fucking good, Lele.”

He groans, leaning down to kiss you again—slower now, gentler, and it’s all so tender, so intimate.

“I’m close,” he whispers against your lips, barely holding on. “But I want you to finish first. Come on, baby. Cum for me again—let me feel it.”

You moan, hips rocking up to meet his. “I can’t—it's too much—I—”

“Yes, you can,” he insists. “Just let go, baby. You know, you’re safe with me.”

And something about that—you’re safe with me—snaps the final thread.

You fall apart beneath him, moaning his name as your orgasm hits you, harder than the first time. You convulse around him, body trembling, vision blurring—and he follows with a ragged, broken curse, burying himself deep as he cums hard inside the condom, forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezed shut.

For a moment, the only sound is the echo of your breathing. Then he exhales slowly, his thumb brushing gently over your damp cheek. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

He smiles. “That’s how it should be. That’s how it’s going to be.”

He doesn’t move right away.

He stays there, inside you, wrapped up in you. But when he finally, carefully pulls out, you whimper softly at the loss, and he murmurs, "I know, baby, I know," like it hurts him too.

He takes care of the condom quickly, tossing it into the bin. Then he’s back—pulling the throw blankets from the sofa over your bodies and curling in beside you. Bare skin to bare skin. Your face presses to his chest, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart beneath your cheek, slowly beginning to calm.

He kisses the top of your head. Then again. And again. Like he can’t stop.

“I meant it,” he murmurs into your hair. “That’s how it’s going to be. Always.”

Your fingers find his under the blanket and tangle them together. “You took care of me,” you say.

He nods, chin brushing your crown. “Of course I did. You said you trusted me.”

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