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bluehoodiewoozi · 1 year ago

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Broken Pieces

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Words: 5,3k

Warnings: protective bff & bias wrecker Choi Seungcheol; adult language; dumb and dumber, featuring awkward interactions.

[Soulmate AU] Your friend broke your soulmate's heart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of both his and your own heart.

(A spin-off / sequel to my soulmate!Kwon Soonyoung fic: "Right? Right.")

Your soulmate mark was a cat – just as your grandmother had predicted. Perhaps she knew what was good for you, perhaps she just knew you – either way she had been correct.

It was a doodle of a small fluffy cat who always seemed to be either busy or sleeping. Just like the marks of your friends, the cat went about its day on your wrist like an alive tattoo. Sometimes it slept, sometimes it read a book, sometimes it played piano – you wondered if your soulmate did the same.

The mark appeared on your sixteenth birthday and while you hoped you’d find your soulmate soon, it would be years until you saw him for the first time.

Your second year at university. That is when you met Lee Jihoon – handsome, soft-spoken, full of smiles and hope. He had chosen the same minor subject as you.

At first you thought he was just another guy you’d have a crush on – just a hopeless short-term fantasy until you’d find the perfect person. But you were proven wrong four weeks into knowing him.

“Woah, careful there,” he spoke as he gently pushed you back upright after you had stumbled in the café. Queues are dangerous, you knew that already, but suddenly they were also a blessing.

The moment his fingers touched your skin, a jolt of electricity ran through you. He seemed to pay it no mind, only offering you a friendly smile before turning back to his girlfriend.

When you looked at your mark, the cat was clawing as if to break out of your skin and run to him. When you glanced at his wrist, a similar doodle – a spotted cat – was just as excited to meet your mark.

That was when you knew – Lee Jihoon was your soulmate.

But the smile he offered to her told you that you stood no chance. Even if the fates had meant for you to meet and fall in love, your heart seemed to be meant to break.

You cried yourself to sleep that night – whether from heartbreak or from the joy of finally finding him, you weren’t sure.

Months passed of just watching him. You didn’t dare to make conversation, didn’t dare to even look at him for long. Your heart ached for him.

It was unfair to break his heart for stupid revenge. It was unfair to do his heart any harm at all. He deserved better.

Jihoon’s heart that held so much love once, and now you wondered if he would ever be able to feel love again at all – you didn’t think you would. Even just watching his heart break from the sidelines had been too painful.

“Have you considered talking to him for a change?” Seungcheol suggested when he caught you staring at Jihoon at lunch. You failed to feel any amusement at his words even as he laughed at you.

Instead, you offered him a mild glare. “You think he’d want to talk to anybody after what he went through?”

“I mean,” Seungcheol thought for a moment before grimacing, “yeah, you have a point there.”

“I always have a point, Cheol,” you told him proudly and continued eating your food. “Besides, he probably wouldn’t talk to one of her friends anyway.”

Her. Han Eunmi. The girl who claimed to be his soulmate and broke his heart into a thousand pieces before you could tell him the truth and save him.

She had been your first friend at university. Her bright eyes and sweet smile were always the first to greet you in lectures. She always saved you a seat, even to this day. But something in her changed when she met her soulmate – you could barely recognise her anymore. Your best friend was your best friend no more.

“You should just grow some balls and tell him,” Seungcheol told you once again. He was all too familiar with the distant vengeful glint in your eyes.

You wanted to kick him. “Says the one that still keeps covering his mark because of his commitment issues?”

Glancing down at the near-comical amount of chain bracelets and the raccoon doodle sniffing around under them on his wrist, he pouted at your words. “I just don’t love the thought of soulmates.”

“No,” you laughed, “you just don’t like the thought of possibly getting your heart broken.”

“Then what’s your excuse?”

Back when you first met him, you had felt so hopeful, so excited for your future. Watching him from afar was one thing, standing side-to-side with him in the café line was different. You could practically feel the fluffy cat on your wrist tugging you closer to him, scratching and jumping every time you moved your arm.

But then she had uttered those words and your world collapsed inwards: “This is my boyfriend.” Even now you feel a little nauseous thinking about the moment: the self-satisfied smile on her face, the love-sick smile on his, his arm around her waist. You couldn’t even replay the memory in your head without wanting to cry.

You glanced towards Jihoon.

“He already got his heart broken,” you mumbled to Seungcheol dejectedly. “I don’t want to add to his problems.”

“I feel like finding his real soulmate would be the opposite of a problem for that poor guy,” Seungcheol said – no, stated. He was certain of his words.

You wished they were true. With a sigh, you whispered, “Just leave it, Cheol. There’s no point anymore. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t even believe in soulmates anymore.”

It was obvious by the look in his eyes that Seungcheol wanted to argue. But he knew you well enough to not push it anymore.

“For this project, I need you guys to pair up,” professor Byun started, sounding about as tired as you felt in this 8 am class. Maybe he, too, craved an early coffee that he’d failed to acquire in his hurry to get to class on time. The thought made him a little more tolerable in your eyes.

“Do you guys want to pair up on your own or should I just do it myself?” he asked the class, but his eyes were practically begging you to choose the first option. Unluckily for your introvert self, the class immediately called out to pair up among themselves. He breathed out in relief just as you sighed in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll give you guys…” He glanced at his watch and nodded. “Ten minutes to pick a partner and a movie from this list. Remember to write your names next to the movie title in the shared document on so that others know it’s taken. I’ll go and get some coffee in the meantime.”

As you looked around the lecture room, you found yourself making a wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

No one in your limited friend group had picked this film studies class – most of them citing the 8 am time slot as the reason –, so who were you supposed to partner up with? A stranger who more than likely wouldn’t do any of the work or – even better and your personal favourite – would drop out of the course in the coming week and leave you without as much as a note.

“Hey,” you then heard his voice and you didn’t know whether you felt nauseous from fear or excitement. You turned your head to find Jihoon standing right there, hand on the chair next to you, a tired look on his face – the same look he’d been wearing since Eunmi crushed his heart in her hands with a giggle. He took a deep hesitant breath. “Do you want to– You don’t have to but I don’t know anyone else in this class… So, maybe, you and I–”

Though a little breathless that he was even talking to you, you straightened in your seat and nodded. “Sure, we can partner up.”

A polite smile appeared on his lips before he pulled out a chair and sat next to you. He glanced at the film list projected onto the room’s screen. “So… Do you have a particular film you want to pick for this?”

You shook your head. “I was hoping you did.”

He grimaced and chuckled. “Well, at least we’re on the same page about that.”

As if we’re soulmates or something. You almost uttered those words. You were glad you caught them before they slipped out.

“Let’s–”

“Should we–”

“Oh.” He laughed. “You go first.”

“No, you.”

“No, you–” He sighed before suggesting, “First free film on the list?”

You nodded immediately. That had been your thought as well, after all.

“So, what film is it?” he wondered, leaning over to read your laptop screen. Your rational brain wanted to shove him away; your emotional brain wanted to pull him even closer. It was hard to get anything done in that condition.

You pulled yourself together, ignoring the sweet scent of his cologne and the almost-there tickle of his hair against yours, and scrolled through the shared document. “Let’s see… The Pianist, 2002.”

Jihoon’s brows rose in surprise. “I do love pianos.”

“I doubt it has a lot to do with pianos,” you mumbled, but didn’t need any further confirmation to put your names down next to the title. Both of your names. Next to each other. Your heart stuttered at the sight.

“It has to have at least a little bit to do with pianos,” he insisted with furrowed brows. You laughed, earning a disbelieving wide-eyed look from him. “No? You’re doubting it?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment before relaxing in his chair again. “So, when do you want to work on this project? I’m free to meet on Mondays.”

It was your turn to look at him with wide eyes, lips parting in surprise. “You… want to meet? In person?”

He blinked. “Yes? Like normal people? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no, it’s just that–” You took a deep breath under his watchful eyes. “I figured that after what happened with Eunmi, you’d–”

“Dig myself a cave to die in? Stop socialising completely?” He sighed and looked away. “Look: as long as you don’t bring her around to our meetings, we’ll be fine. I just– I don’t even want to be in the same building as her.” His gaze was sharp when he looked at you again. “And I’m only tolerating you because of this class.”

Were words supposed to hurt like that?

“So, Monday, in the library?” he spoke again as if he hadn’t just thrown a metaphorical dagger into your heart.

You nodded. “I’ll see you Monday.”

He didn’t speak another word to you in that entire class.

Seungcheol was quick to notice your mood being more dejected than usual at lunch. Affectionate by nature, his fingers reached across the picnic table to find yours and give them a little squeeze.

The gesture only made you want to cry more: why couldn’t he be your soulmate instead?

“Did something happen in class?” he asked, eyeing you cautiously. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing.” A complete lie and even he knew it.

He called out your name in a warning tone – like a father getting ready to reprimand his rebellious child. “What happened and what can we do to fix it?”

“I don’t think there’s any way to fix anything,” you mumbled and lifted your fork to your lips to take a bite of your lunch. There was no joy in the taste of your favourite meal on this day.

Seungcheol frowned. “Is this about Jihoon again? What happened this time?”

“He wanted to pair up for a project,” you told him and his expression morphed into a bright smile – one that screamed “See! I told you he’d see the light!” – but his face promptly dropped into a scowl when you added on, “and then he told me that he only tolerated me because of our film studies class.”

“He said that?” he spoke lowly.

“His exact words.” It wasn’t even like he actually intentionally broke your heart. It must have been the stupid soulmate bond acting up and making you more emotional about this than necessary. “I don’t know why I’m so sad about this.”

“He’s cruel. That’s why.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though. He’s cruel and he’s dumb and he doesn’t deserve you.” He nodded his head in confirmation when you looked up at him again.

You scoffed out a laugh. “Why do you think he’s dumb anyway? He does well in our classes.”

“He may be academically gifted but he had his soulmate under his goddamn nose this whole time and he didn’t even realise,” he practically whined. “If that’s not dumb, I’m the king of Korea.”

You contemplated for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just give up this fantasy of mine and find someone who actually likes me.”

“You– I–” His frown deepened almost comically. “That is not what I meant at all.”

“You just said–”

“Stop listening to what I say!”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank god you’re not my soulmate.”

“Okay, I’m not that bad.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you stick around.”

Your gaze drifted to where Jihoon was seated under a maple tree with his friends. “Maybe I just have bad taste.”

[I’ll be waiting at 3 in the library. Room A232. – Jihoon]

Seungcheol mumbled something under his breath as he accompanied you to the library. Before you could ask him about it, he turned to you. “Can’t you just tell him you’re his soulmate? What’s the worst that could happen?”

You stared at him. He quickly realised the error of his words.

“I just mean that maybe he’d like to know. Maybe he’d act a little warmer towards you if he did.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting him to treat me like,” you said. “He knows me as Eunmi’s friend. As someone complicit in the worst lie of his life. He’s treating me very nice all things considered.”

“Well, he still should know,” he decided. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you say, big guy. I’ll see you in the journalism section in a few hours?”

He sighed. “As always. Wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

And just like that, he picked a direction and headed that way – to his lonely little napping spot between shelves of journalism guidebooks. It was a good thing he got along so well with the librarians.

Though you weren’t a stranger to this library, you still felt a little out of place this time. Maybe it was the nerves of meeting Jihoon again. You hadn’t seen him even once outside of the one film studies class you both took.

Or perhaps you were just anxious about the fact that you had failed to watch the film due to reasons out of your control. Lee Jihoon was notorious for having a short fuse with his peers. You weren’t sure you could handle falling even further down his list.

The plaque on the door read A232. You double-checked it. Triple. Four times. Five–

Jihoon startled you by opening the door. “Are you going to come in or do you expect a formal invitation?”

“I… was just checking,” you mumbled and brushed past him into the little study room. You placed your things down opposite of the seat he had occupied. This was it – the end of your life. You hadn’t even said goodbye to Seungcheol. You sighed, closed your eyes in anticipation of the scolding that would follow, and confessed, “I didn’t watch the film. I’m sorry.”

You were ready for an onslaught of sharp words, the scolding of a lifetime, maybe even some screaming and him telling you that you were just as bad as Eunmi.

But it never came.

He sat down and hummed. “Yeah, I didn’t have time to watch it either.”

Dumbfounded, you opened your eyes to stare at him. He felt your gaze on him and looked up from his screen with an awkward tight-lipped smile. “What?”

“I thought you’d yell at me,” you spoke faster than your filter could catch.

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I thought you were going to yell at me.”

“What now?” you thought out loud. You hadn’t prepared for this scenario, not even close.

Jihoon made faces – scrunching up his face and frowning between silly smiles and pursed lips – as he considered the options. “We could… watch it now?”

“Like, now?”

He nodded slowly. “I don’t have any plans for the next couple of hours. Do you?” You shook your head, too speechless to actually respond. “Then let’s watch it. I have a speaker somewhere in my bag– Hold on. I’ll get it.”

Your brain was severely lagging behind. You hadn’t even realised the implications of his words. Your jaw dropped. “You mean–? You want to watch it together? Here?”

“I mean,” he paused and looked at you, “I wouldn’t mind picking a different place. We could go to the courtyard. Or a café. Well, probably not a café but–”

“There’s a lounge room on the third floor,” you blurted out. “There are sofas and a vending machine.”

Jihoon brightened up at your words. “That sounds perfect. Let’s go?”

“Sure,” you breathed out, unable to believe this was happening at all.

It took barely 5 minutes for the two of you to get to the lounge room. Jihoon was quick to occupy a three-person sofa in the corner of the room, right between the vending machine and the ceiling high window. With a victorious smile, he patted the spot next to him.

You must have been too slow for his liking because tilted his head to the side, eyes still on you. “Did you want this spot instead? I’m okay with either. Just say the word.”

You said nothing and took the spot he had previously offered. The less you spoke, the less likely you were to piss him off – it was only logical.

As you sat there and waited for him to set up his laptop and speaker, you glanced at your wrist. The fluffy cat on your skin was endlessly, tirelessly running towards him, looking back at you as if to convince you to reach for Jihoon.

You looked to his wrist instead, wondering, perhaps hoping that you’d find a similar doodle trying to get to you. Even if it just glanced, just to confirm. But his soulmate mark was hidden, covered with a black wrist support.

He glanced back at you before lifting said wrist. “Are you looking at this?”

Cursing yourself for getting caught staring, you nodded and tried to act like your ears and cheeks weren’t burning.

He shrugged. “My wrist hurts sometimes. Nothing to worry about.”

Deflecting. You knew him well enough to know that even if he was telling the truth, it was only half of one. He was lying to save his pride.

“My roommate has the same one,” you said, deciding to go along with his narrative. “She says it doesn’t help a lot though.”

“It’s the cheapest one I could find,” he replied with a shrug before turning back to his laptop, searching for the film. “Do you live at the dorms?”

“Yep.” But he knew this already. He used to visit Eunmi there, right across the hall from you. You cleared your throat and willed the thought to go away. “That’s why I didn’t manage to watch the film. I was going to watch it over the weekend, but the dormitory wi-fi was the slowest it has ever been.”

He scoffed on your behalf. “That sounds awful. What did you do in the meantime then?”

“My roommate had to bring out the board games. So, Monopoly.”

He laughed and sat back on the sofa, leaning closer to you to hear more. “That almost sounds even worse. Any friendships ruined that night?”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” you laughed along, almost forgetting you were nervous to be around him in the first place, “we played Monopoly for two days straight. The same game. It just didn’t end. My roommate and her boyfriend are no longer on speaking terms.”

“Monopoly truly does ruin relationships.” He laughed harder, almost leaning against you entirely in the fit of giggles. “Did you win? Who won?”

“I came in third place.”

“Out of three?”

You nodded shamefully as he laughed even harder, this time fully resting his head on your shoulder. He quickly leaned away though, much to your disappointment, but his giggles never ceased. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

Despite the shared laughter at your study sessions and sitting together in class, Jihoon never acknowledged you outside of the lecture room. He barely even glanced your way when you passed him in the hallways; he definitely never returned any waves or even nods. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Seungcheol was left to gather the pieces of your confidence. Though he was vehement that there was no soulmate for him and he’d be happy being single his entire life, he refused to let you suffer the same fate.

It was already getting painful to watch you mimic his habit: hiding the fluffy cat under a variety of bracelets and wristbands, covering it with long sleeves whenever the weather allowed. Your hope had turned into anxiety in front of his very eyes and he’d be damned if he let you continue down this path.

“If you don’t tell him, I will.” – he was going to stand by these words. Even when you practically begged him not to.

“He won’t like it,” you’d told him.

“He’d be upset with the both of us,” you’d scolded him when he presented the idea again two weeks later.

“Why would he even believe you?” you’d scoffed.

He decided he’d make Jihoon believe him. So, after sending you off to class, he located your soulmate in the same lounge room you’d introduced to him. He was even resting on the same sofa.

Seungcheol stood in front of him and cleared his throat.

Jihoon straightened up immediately at that, pulling his laptop screen down. “Can I help you with something?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“About…?” Jihoon scoffed when Seungcheol offered him no further context. “Listen, if this is about something (Y/n) said or did–”

“She never told you, did she?” he asked. “You still don’t know.”

His counterpart blinked. “Know what? What is this? Do you have no one else to play mind games with?”

“Jihoon,” he sighed, “she’s your soulmate.”

His words were met with a frown. “What nonsense are you speaking now? No, first you barge in here, and now you’re making up stories– Does she know you’re here?”

“She knows I made a promise. For her.” Seungcheol closed his eyes and spoke as calmly as he could, “She’s your soulmate. She’s the little spotted cat on your wrist. You’ve been breaking her heart this entire time and I’m sick of it.”

Jihoon’s frown deepened. His hand clenched into a fist in his lap as he spoke, “If she’s– Why didn’t she say anything?”

“That you’ll have to ask her yourself. I just came here to balance the scales – it seemed unfair that she suffer with the knowledge but you break her heart with every word.” Seungcheol sighed and opened his eyes again, gaze hardening. “What you do with this knowledge is up to you. But if you break her heart any further, I will break you.”

You were blissfully unaware of your best friend’s actions. In fact, you hadn’t seen him since lunch. You had been preoccupied with making the slides of your film studies presentation more, –well–, presentable.

The courtyard was a perfect spot for drawing inspiration for slide designs: the fresh air did wonders to your brain and the constant distant chatter of your fellow students served as white noise. You were on a roll.

Who knows, you thought to yourself, maybe Jihoon will even grace you with his proud smile when you show him the presentation.

Suddenly, a strange feeling filled you. You habitually glanced down at your wrist – the cat was standing on his hind legs, as if trying to peek over a fence to see what was in front of you. Like he was expecting his owner back from a long trip.

“So it really is you,” you then heard his voice.

Your head snapped up to look at Jihoon standing right in front of you, his eyes trained on his own wrist – miraculously uncovered this time, the usual black band crumpled in his other hand.

Your voice and words betrayed you, they left you fighting in the battle field all alone. You gulped. Instead of acknowledging his words, as if doing so would make the situation disappear, you turned your laptop his way. Your voice wavered as you told him, “I made some changes to the slides. Thought it would look better if we made them prettier. What do you think?”

But Jihoon kept staring at his wrist as if you weren’t even there. How could he not stare at the spotted cat he’d spent all these years mindlessly glancing at, following, and talking to in the moonlight? The cat who had once stood for a broken dream now stood for a new hope.

Finally, he tore his eyes from the cat – the mark of you – and looked at you instead. There was something so incredibly sorrowful about the look in his eyes, you could barely fight the urge to cry. He didn’t bother to do the same.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he shakily breathed out. “You could’ve told me, (Y/n). Why wouldn’t you– Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d want to know. Not after what she did to you.”

He scoffed. “You watched her lie and break my heart and it never occurred to you to just… tell me? To just say you were the one? That I was looking the wrong way?”

You wanted the ground to take you away. It would’ve hurt less than this confrontation. All of these eyes curiously watching from a distance, the whole campus witnessing him breaking your heart – it was too much. Even if he was right to be mad.

“Jihoon…”

“What were you so afraid of?” he wondered, frown deepening and voice raising by the word. “That I would reject you in favour of her? That she would stop being your friend because you foiled her plans? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but she’s clearly not a good friend so why are you still siding with her?!”

“I’m not!”

“It sure seems that way!”

You glared at him. “I stopped talking to Eunmi the minute she told me what she had done!”

Jihoon expression softened at your words. So did yours. You sniffled. “I had already let her go too far because she was the only friend I had when I first came here. She was the only friend I had known. I didn’t want to lose both my best friend and my soulmate. I thought–” You took a deep breath and avoided his eyes. “I thought if I couldn’t have my soulmate, I’d at least have a loyal friend who wouldn’t let me feel lonely. I was mistaken.”

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. His arm dropped, his eyes following as if to make sure the spotted cat remained.

“You should’ve told me,” he whispered once again before stepping closer, crouching to your level. He sighed once more. Then you felt warm fingers around your wrist. “Had you told me–”

“Just reject me and be done with it,” you begged. “Don’t make this even worse. I deserve my heart shattered, but at least make it quick.”

He frowned. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Then finish quicker. I still have a presentation to–”

“Had you told me,” he started again, more assertively this time, his hand holding yours tightly as if to anchor you to him, “I would’ve rejected her and run to you back then already. I would’ve believed you without any hesitation. But seeing as that didn’t happen,” he sighed and you braced yourself for a proper heartbreak, “I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

Your heart stopped beating. At least it felt like it did. Your eyes widened while searching his. Instead of a scowl or a frown or a glare, you found yourself on the receiving end of a fond smile.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious?!”

“As serious as Seungcheol is about breaking me if I break your heart,” he promised with a soft laugh. His fingers still never left your hand, only sliding down to lock with yours.

You groaned and closed your eyes in despair. “...He’s the one that told you.”

“I’m glad he did,” he laughed, “because I don’t think you would’ve told me for a while, and I certainly wouldn’t have figured it out anytime soon.”

“We’re both dumb, aren’t we?” you mumbled, finally opening your eyes again once the embarrassment faded.

“Complete idiots, the both of us.”

“Soulmates,” you joked.

“Soulmates,” he confirmed with a laugh.

You still wondered though. “Why aren’t you more mad at me?”

He shrugged and sat down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, on purpose this time. “I thought I was at first. But I don’t think you’re at fault for what Eunmi did to me. You were just trying your to be a good friend.” Seeing your sheepish smile, he nudged you playfully before whispering, “Plus, I’m not entirely sure I could take Seungcheol in a fight.”

You laughed. “I guess that’s one perk of being his friend.”

Jihoon smiled. “He seems like a great friend. I like him better than I liked Eunmi.”

“I do too.”

“What do you say we give this a proper try?” he suggested, holding out his hand for you to take, the doodle-like cat on his wrist full on display.

You smiled. When you lifted your hand to meet his, the fluffy cat rushed to meet his spotted one where your skin touched. Their noses pressed together happily, the cats nuzzling into each other’s necks after finally meeting each other after all this time of being so close but never close enough.

“I’d like that,” you told him and he breathed out in relief.

With the awkward distance out of the way, sitting beside him didn’t feel as nerve-wracking as it once had. It felt natural to be in his presence now. You wondered if you’d be drawn to him soon, just as your soulmate marks were drawn to each other.

“How did you find me here anyway?” you asked him after a moment of silence.

He shrugged. “I followed the cat. Figured that if Seungcheol was right, the mark would lead me right to you.” He gestured around. “It did.”

“Huh.” You pursed your lips in thought before giggling. “I guess I should’ve tried that when I was looking for you earlier.”

“Earlier? Today?” he wondered.

You remembered your laptop all of a sudden, pulling it closer to the two of you. “I made some changes to our presentation. I wanted to show you and then we could maybe work on it a little. Hold on.”

“Right now?” He seemed amused at the idea when you nodded. “Sure, we could do that. Or, – hear me out –, we could go on a little date to make up for lost time.”

But as tempting as that sounded…

“The presentation is due tomorrow morning, Jihoon.”

He grimaced. “Brunch date tomorrow then?”

“... I could fit that into my schedule.”

Note: I only wrote this so I'd have an excuse to later write cute university boyfriend / soulmate Jihoon fics as sequels lol

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeenweeklyarticle #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon scenarios

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ideaofheaven · 1 year ago

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— LESS SUGAR (onew x reader)

Synopsis: A playful first impression with a certain shining idol in your own coffee shop takes your life into an interesting turn. A merge of two worlds, you never expect Jinki to provide you company and comfort. But he does, all the while ordering lattes and pastries.

Pairing: Lee Jinki x fem!reader

Genre: coffee shop!au, idol!Jinki, fluff (like, lots of fluff), piniiiing, angst, smut

Word count: 17376 words (lmao its a SLOW burn)

Warnings: sakura jinki!! (Yeah it’s a warning), mentions of diet, implied depressive episodes, heavy make out, vaginal fingering, Jinki big dick agenda, domsub undertones, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie (careful folks), minors dni!

AN: Happy 525 everyone! What other perfect timing to celebrate my love for SHINee’s leader. But actually, I wrote this one almost 2 years ago now?? And I thought yeah no way this will stay in drafts forever. I just need a sweet fic for dearest Jinki, you know? Please enjoy!

+++

You empty a box of newly arrived goods. After a few considerations, maybe you should’ve arranged the displays at night when you have more time instead of in the mornings before you open the store. But they look fine as it is; the coffee grounds are lined up neatly, and the rustic decors compliment them well. Deciding the shop is all ready, you check the time. It’s only a few minutes before 7 o’clock, so you flip the wooden sign from ‘close’ to ‘open’.

Almost a year has passed since you opened your own cafe. The journey wasn’t a walk in the park. From the loans, experimenting in your apartment kitchen, and the amount of time and energy spent gathering the resources. But you made it, now owning a small cafe that can house up to fifteen customers. Often perceived as a friendly person, you managed to gather a handful of regulars.

The bell chimes, and you turn to see your regular coming in through the door. “Good morning, Eunmi!” You chirp, before noticing her gloomy visage. “You look particularly bright today. The usual?”

The regular, Eunmi, is a working woman who lives nearby with her husband. She sighs before nodding. "I only slept for a couple of hours.” She drags herself to the counter. “Do you remember that co-worker I told you about?”

She rambles on, complaining about this and that while you tinker with your coffee machine. Occasionally you laugh, but you mostly take your time to listen. Eunmi is the one who requested you to open the store earlier. Not having any problem with mornings, you happily oblige. Ever since, with a raging need for someone to vent to and a caffeine boost, she visits daily.

“You should take a day off,” you advise while finishing off the beverage. You grab the paper cup carefully, gesturing to Eunmi who’s still sitting down. “One almond caffe mocha to go.”

“I’ll think about it,” she murmurs tiredly as she gets up, dragging herself to her coffee. “I’m off, then. Thanks for the drink!”

With a wave, she leaves the cafe. There goes your early morning regular. You go back to your favorite pastime, rearranging the items on your shelf. You are contemplating putting the house blend on the front counter to replace the Vietnamese Arabica when the door chimes. Delighted, you shout, “Welcome!”

A man walks in hesitantly. At that moment, you can't possibly recognize him. He wears a mask and a baseball hat. The hoodie and the dark jeans make him appear like one of the people from your neighborhood.

What you notice is that he’s a new customer, and his eyes are... pretty.

You push the last thought aside and switch to your customer service mode. “Here’s the menu,” you gush, your voice sounding too pitchy to your ears. The man blinks at you before his gaze falls on the printed paper.

Your mind betrays you and chooses to zone in on the man before you. He’s tall. His dark brown hair stops above the nape of his neck with soft strands of fringe framing his defined heart-shaped face. Though it's hidden by the mask, you can see his high cheekbones. Despite that, you can’t help but focus on his hooded soft brown eyes. From your place behind the counter, you’ve seen many attractive people. You noticed their neat makeup, their perfectly curled hair, their luscious lips, or the way they dress. Being attracted to someone’s eyes seems incredulous. But even his eyebrows look nicely groomed.

He lifts his gaze which inevitably meets yours. Your stomach lurches in embarrassment and you stupidly let out an “oh” before putting your best smile. Please don’t notice. “What would you like to order?”

If he notices, he doesn’t show any sign. “Can I have a brown sugar latte to go?”

His voice sounds like the drink itself; warm, sweet, and syrupy. You perk up. “Great choice. Will that be all?” The man tilts his head, humming. Cute.

“Make it with an extra shot of espresso.” You’re already grabbing the pack of grounds when you respond with good humor, “Tough day ahead?” At that, he chuckles, low and bright at the same time. Warm and syrupy indeed. “Everyday is a tough day at work.”

You laugh, but perhaps the curiosity in your expression is too obvious, because the mysterious customer’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“It's tough work, but I love my job,” he says in what you perceive as teasing.

“Sure, sure,” you snicker, now pouring measured liquid brown sugar into the paper cup. You’re confident in your coffee-making skills, and you can’t wait to hear his reaction. Maybe he can join your not-so-long list of regulars.

“Brown sugar latte with double shot.” You give him the paper cup. “Enjoy!”

Another eye crinkle smile grazes his covered face. With a closer look, there’s a slight jaw movement behind his mask. “Thank you very much,” he responds and you notice the formality. “By the way, do you happen to sell any food?”

You bite the insides of your mouth. “Yes, but I only stock them later,” you explain ruefully. “The bakery usually delivers the pastries at 9 o’clock. I apologize.” You bow and he immediately raises both of his hands, waving them frantically.

“Oh, no, no, it’s okay. What do you have?”

“We have a selection of buns, scones, pound cakes, egg tarts,” you gush. “They’re all delicious. But I personally like their traditional pastries. Injeolmi, red bean rice cake, yakbap, fried tteok dumplings. Auntie does a great job every time.”

Unlike other cafes that bake their own food, you work together with the local bakery that happens to make the best traditional pastries you’ve ever tried. You know they aren’t as popular as the more western pastries, but they always pull the older customers to your cafe, even becoming your regulars.

His eyebrows shoot up all of a sudden, “You have yakbap?” He asks in apparent surprise which you mirror excitedly. “Yes! Oh my god, do you like them?” He nods. “Would you like to try? I can have them stocked tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that too much trouble?”

"Of course not. But," you emphasize. "You have to come visit tomorrow morning. Promise?” The surge of boldness takes you out of nowhere. He’s just one customer who only bought one drink, but you can’t deny the urge to see him again. So when you saw the chance, you knew you had to take it.

“I will, I promise,” he chuckles and your worries melt away, swept away by the soothing voice of his promise.

+++

At 8 o’clock, the door chimes. You almost jump from behind the counter.

“Good morning,” the man from yesterday greets you with a small bow. Today he’s wearing a dark jacket over a simple tee. Without yesterday's baggy clothes, the outfit centers on his broad shoulders well. A mask is still in place, but now without the hat, you can see more of him. At least more of his soft-looking short brown hair. A surge of familiarity rushes through you. After a quick run through your memories, your mind comes up blank. You shrug off the thought but he’s faster to notice you zoning out.

“What? I promised, didn’t I?” He mumbles, and you respond with a small laugh, “You did.”

You usher him to the counter, pulling out a small basket. “Now here’s my end of the deal.”

“What’s all this?” He glances in the basket. Inside is a handful of pastries, covered neatly in plastic wrap. “There’s so many!”

You smile proudly. “I asked the bakery for a sampler basket. So these are their best-sellers. We have a kaya bun, blueberry lemon scone, garlic basil bread, yakbap,” you wink, “fried tteok dumplings, and red bean rice cake.”

“Wait--”

“And I’ll give you a special price.” You send him another cheeky grin, and you feel triumphant when you see his resigned face.

“I didn’t expect you would prepare a whole basket… But thank you,” he sighs before breaking into one of his eye-smiles. It looks so familiar and the feeling starts to gnaw at you once more. Like reaching out to remember a dream, it feels close yet you can't come up with a name to associate his face with. You snap back to reality, hearing him say something in your direction. “Yes?”

“I’d like to have the drink from yesterday,” he states almost giddily. “It’s delicious. I thought it’d be too sweet.”

Oh. You cover a smile with the back of your hand, secretly proud of yourself. Elated, you lean in before you even know it, catching your customer's attention.

“Be sure to come back for more, then.” Right after the words leave your mouth, you recoil. You sound like you were flirting, and you don't flirt with customers.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do." You stare at him in surprise, seeing the teasing glint in his eyes. Flustered, your throat tightens.

“R-right. One brown sugar latte coming up.” Warm, sweet, syrupy… Sticky.

After finishing the latte with sprinkles of cinnamon powder on top, you put the plastic cap on and bring it to your only customer. The man is sitting in the corner, on one of the chairs that has its back on you. He's eating a piece of yakbap from a plastic wrapper when you approach the table. “Here’s-"

Perhaps, that day you forget that people eat with their mouths. Uncovered. In the end, nothing prepares you to witness the face behind the mask.

A few weeks ago, you were watching TV on your couch. One of your favorite dramas had just ended, so you were stuck watching a random variety show. Loud screams pierced your ears, making you jump so you checked the show. A couple of people were sitting at the table, and one of them, a handsome young man with light brown hair and lovely eyes, was reenacting his version of the famous Gwiyomi song. What a weird guy, you thought with a laugh while seeing him kiss each of his fingers just a little too passionately.

“- your drink,” you finish shakily. The new information almost freezes you in place but you put on your best (worst, stiff) customer service smile anyway. Defying another expectation, Onew - oh god, it is him - takes the paper cup from your hand. Your fingers touch briefly and you swear there's a jolt that tickles. The idol is staring at you with a hint of worry, indicating he knows the cat's out of the bag.

You should leave him be, he might be uncomfortable. But then, a sight of empty plastic wrappers catches your attention. "How's the food?" You inquire placidly. Creative.

The worry in his face dissipates very slightly and you realize how different he looks now without the mask. You can see the plump lips parting before he says, "You're right, they're so good."

The compliment somehow melts your worries.

"Right? They taste exactly the same since I was a child. Auntie had just started baking the western pastries a few years ago, but she’s too tired to run the bakery full-time. So I thought having her pastries in my cafe would be perfect," you stop, internally scolding yourself for rambling all that to the celebrity, "I talk too much don't I?"

"You own this cafe?" The man asks instead, his mouth gaping and eyes wide. Adorable.

"Owner, barista, waitress, slash everything," you rub the back of your neck, pressured by the questioning gaze he has on you. Without his mask, he seems more intense. Or, you are subconsciously affected by his idol status. While this is not the first time you meet a celebrity from behind the counter, it is the first time you're engaged in conversation with them. Especially with someone of a high tier like him. Someone amazing.

"That's amazing." His voice echoes, jolting you back to reality

"What?" You sputter. He definitely notices you zoning out because his smile - you can see his mouth now, oh god - is too mischievous and knowing. This is getting too much.

Rigidly, you peek into the paperbag, noticing the amount of pastries left. "What are you going to do with them?" Onew looks at the paperbag before standing up and grabbing the bag. "I'll share them with people at work."

You step back with a laugh. "Do you think they'll like it?"

"I think they will. Well, some can't enjoy it due to… a strict diet. But one won't hurt." Onew takes his coffee in one hand, and the paperbag in the other. He raises both hands slightly, gesturing with the items. "Thank you. I'll be going now."

"No,” you begin tentatively, “Thank you, Onew."

You internally pat yourself on the back for letting that out.

His ever so expressive eyebrows rise before he lets out a bark of laughter. "Well, isn't that unfair."

"What is?"

"I see you know my name already," he supplies, staring down at you with a pretty gummy smile. "But I don't know yours."

Heat rushes to your cheeks when his words sink into your brain. You would pray it wouldn't show but you find your tongue unable to form useful words. Instead, as an uncontrolled fight or flight reaction, it responds haughtily, "Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you."

You curse the random unsolicited rush of courage. But Onew's surprised expression is already morphing into a half smirk, and you can't decide if you regret it.

"Deal. I'll see you tomorrow, miss."

Exactly one minute after the door closes, you curl up on the floor and let out a groan. What just happened?

+++

Jinki knows he shouldn't be doing this.

That morning, he woke up exactly three hours before his first schedule of the day. The warm sunlight tempted him to go for a jog, but the ache crawling through his body reminded him what a bad idea that was. The day before, the dance instructor had drilled them with another wild choreography, and in the morning, his joints were positively protesting.

So he took a walk. Enjoying the sunlight, he left the rows of high-rise apartments for the quiet residential complex. The bustle of the crowded market and gossipy house-wives felt like a calming noise, and he continued his walk until he turned one corner.

Nothing should've caught his attention, but everything did. The shop's facade of pale red bricks was a splash of color in between the other buildings. A couple of vintage lantern lamps decorated the shop, and there were wooden signs with intricate lettering on the wall and glass door. Jinki realized it was a coffee shop, a small one. There and then he thought he needed his caffeine, and the nearest Starbucks was blocks away. So he went in, met the cute barista, got a delicious latte, and left.

And ever since, he keeps coming back for more.

“Someone enjoys visiting this little place,” she laughs one morning, cocky and amused. It’s his visit for the third time in a row. Borrowing her high energy and boldness, he smirks in reply.

"You’re the one who asked me, though," he mentions, holding a small cup of her manual brew. A new house blend, she had mentioned. It has a subtle sweetness to it, which Jinki likes.

"Asked what?"

"To come back here."

She chuckles, that rare hint of shyness surfacing once more. "I was just messing around."

But he wasn't, and back then, he would do anything to get to know her name. So the day after her request, Jinki returned. After an order of one brown sugar latte and five miscellaneous pastries, all to-go, Jinki sat down and propped his chin on top of his folded hands, waiting. His legs were fidgeting, a sign of anticipation and nervousness that he was well attuned with.

"Are you dining in?" She asked, probably feigning innocence, as she shuffled through various packets of coffee. What a tease.

"No," he responded curtly.

She moved away from the shelves to the edge of the counter, facing him. Oh, she's doing this on purpose. With a hand covering her mouth, she laughed silently. Jinki thought she shouldn't hide her laughter, or her smile, because it’s pretty and bright, just like her.

"I'm sorry, I owe you something, don't I?" She asked sweetly, like those drinks she makes for him.

"Yes, you do." Jinki managed out, a crooked smile gracing his lips in a low effort intimidation.

"Okay, okay," she resigned. "You should make a habit of checking the bill, Onew."

Realization hit him and he rushed to pull the bill out of his pocket. There, written in neat handwriting, was a name. In awe, he said it once, testing it on his tongue—and he heard a crash.

"Oh--oops," she clambered to grab the fallen coffee packages. Jinki was wondering how attached this woman was to her coffee supply before he took a glance at her face. Pink tinted her cheeks and he wouldn't lie, it was a sight to see. Presumably annoyed, she was about to say something but Jinki just called her name once more, abruptly stopping her. So he raised his chin, taking a better look at the flustered barista with a satisfactory smile, “Everything okay back there?”

She nodded once before turning away, cheeks still flaming as she broke their eye contact. He just laughed. Cute.

Today, he finds himself once more in front of her store. Earlier, he found out Minho already had plans to visit his mother, and so, Jinki was left alone in the dorms. He's used to being alone in the apartment, but today he has a particular yearning to be somewhere else but home.

"Onew," she greets, ever so cheerful in the mornings. "The usual?"

Despite the merciless schedule in his line of work, Jinki hasn't met a lot of morning people. Especially the ones who are comfortable with an early schedule by nature. It took him years after debuting before his internal alarm worked properly. And after hundreds of cranky morning schedules, he finally could manage his mood well. She must have been born with the sun smiling upon her. Perhaps that is her destiny, to wake up effortlessly and share her energy through caffeinated beverages. Jinki has an urge to ask if she ever stays up late, maybe later.

"Actually, can I have an iced americano?" Jinki asks after a quick glance at the menu. This time he needs something with less sugar.

She is beaming, as usual. "Sure. But I recommend you drink it fast, it's warm outside—"

"I'm having it here." Jinki already grabs a seat, putting his bag and pulling out a book. Her expression is a mixture of confusion and delight. "...Is it okay?"

"Of course!" She exclaims all too fast before rushing to her tools.

An amicable silence stretches. Hisses and clamor from behind the counter occasionally fill the air, but otherwise it's quiet. After endless days in a loud environment, he appreciates the silence. He can’t remember the last time he sat still like this, without TV or a Youtube video to accompany him. He takes his book, a best-selling novel he picked up from the airport months ago during his work trip, and starts reading it. When his iced americano arrives, he thanks her properly and dives back into the story.

It's peaceful. At some point, she puts on music. Slow to medium-tempo songs in foreign languages, and it doesn't disrupt his reading, in fact, he enjoys it.

During his stay, customers come and go. He can't see them, because his back is facing the major part of the cafe. But he can hear them clearly. And interestingly, they talk a lot. One customer, a young girl, comes up to you, gets a large glass of iced chocolate milk, and proceeds to tell you about her crush. Another, an elderly man who apparently visits regularly, orders one hot barley tea and a red bean paste bun. Then he starts to give her updates on his newborn grandchild. Jinki hears her squeal before she asks for the man’s wife or daughter.

He finds all the interaction endearing, somehow.

"So, what's the occasion?"

The sun is now high up in the sky, signalling it's nearing noon. Jinki was feeling tiny pricks of hunger when she appeared near his table, a few tupperware in hand. "It gets lonely," she said cheekily. With each little talk they exchange, Jinki wonders why he didn’t ask her to sit here earlier, enjoying her company very much. And not before long, she offered some of her food to him, which he accepted with little resistance.

“You’ve never dined in before, what’s the occasion?”

Jinki takes one slice of rolled omelet with his chopsticks. "It's my day off," he answers.

"You have a day off, and you came here?" She looks up from her food and gapes at him. He nods.

"The apartment's empty, Minho is visiting his parents."

"It must be lonely."

"Not anymore,” he responds in earnest, and a grin emerges when he sees her fluster. Jinki is not a prideful person. He doesn’t absorb compliments like it’s his source of energy. However, knowing he can affect people like this, especially in such tight interaction, does boost his ego in a productive way. Additionally, he enjoys seeing her reaction. She’s very put together, confident, sometimes cheeky, but those rare moments when she gets caught off guard charm him. It’s like her fire turns into cotton candy, all cute and sweet.

Jinki can’t get enough of her.

“Is that one of your killer moves, Onew-ssi?” She says, hiding her strangled laugh by raising her chin with defiance. But he knows better. See? Charming.

He puts his chopstick down, and proceeds to lean his head on one knuckle. The gesture seems to affect her, because her smile falls and she’s blinking rapidly at him. “No, it’s not," he states before an idea pops into his head. "Call me Jinki."

Her mouth falls open. “What?”

“Please call me Jinki.”

He watches as she gapes wordlessly, like a cat got her tongue. In the end, she just nods softly, saying a quiet “Okay,” with a bashful whisper of his name. Hearing it, Jinki can’t help the giddiness bubbling inside him and a smug smile that graces his lips. His name sounds pretty on her tongue, and he immediately knows he will want to hear it more.

Jinki thinks maybe that is his killer move.

+++

To have a celebrity coming back to your cafe, and getting to know them is an oddly enjoyable experience.

One morning Onew--no, Jinki arrives with all his attention on his phone. He’s typing furiously before craning his neck to see you. “(Y/n),” he says in an exaggerated whine, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting comically cute, “Kibum is being mean to me. He said we can’t hang out today. I’m so sad. I need my sad coffee so can you please get me a--”

“Jinki, don’t--”

“A despresso?”

“Oh my god,” you sigh audibly, a fond grin in place, making him snicker as he rubs the back of his head.

"Get it? Like espresso but depress-"

"Yes, Jinki. I get it."

Every time Jinki visits, you enjoy his company. Granted, he’s not the type to talk much, and when he does, he always manages to surprise you. You don’t know what’s worse, his dad jokes, or the fact that he’s not aware how much he’s driving you crazy. Does he know his teasing words can be wrongly interpreted as flirting? Does he know he looks good in even worn out shirts? Does he know you start to think he's been coming here not only for the coffee? With that being said, you weren’t prepared for Jinki’s presence in close proximity almost everyday.

"Whatcha' doing?" Jinki asks, his face leaning over the high counter, peeking into your workspace. His mask is off, and like his perfect face is not distracting enough, he's wearing a black sweater that snug nicely on his body. You notice how broad his shoulders are, or how his collarbones look so prominent, hanging above defined pecs. Focus, you have a job.

"I'm trying to make a new drink," you reply, measuring in teaspoons of the powder you prepared. You take the recently bought bamboo whisk to mix the powder. New tools in the kitchen always get you excited, especially if it’s your first time using it. "Do you know hojicha?"

He tilts his head, thinking, and you wonder if it's necessary for him to jut his lower lips like that. "No. Is it Japanese?"

"Mmhm, it's Japanese roasted green tea.” You start whisking the water and the hojicha powder, and Jinki gawks. As the mixture gets frothy, you elaborate. "I've been wanting to try to make it, maybe someone will be interested." Grabbing another cup, you mix the diluted powder and the milk, the ash-colored tea mixture turning the milk into gray-ish brown. "They say it tastes best with milk."

"Ah, really?" Without a warning, Jinki shots one hand forward, taking the glass from your nimble hand. You yelp at the sudden movement. He then takes a big gulp, craning his neck to drink it properly and you can't take your eyes off of his Adam's apple as it moves with each gulp, and the veins running on his neck. Shit. He pulls the glass away, and using his other hand, he wipes his mouth. Your throat goes dry.

Unaware of your struggle, he hums, "It's good. Bitter, but good.”

Shaking yourself back to reality, you take a deep breath. "I was about to say I hadn't put the sugar in."

"I think you don’t need it. Or just put a little," he grins, gesturing the aforementioned amount with his index finger and thumb, a small distance lingers between them. His fingers are pretty, you think absentmindedly. His other hand puts the empty glass back onto the counter. "You're really good at this."

At that, your heart swells with pride. "Of course, I don't want my customers to go."

"Me as well?"

"You as well,” you state, genuine. You can tell him that as much. “My early morning was never this fun."

Jinki snorts. “Me? Fun?” He asks, pointing a finger at himself. “People say I’m weird.”

“No offense, Jinki, I didn’t say you’re not weird.” The man barks a laugh and you join in. “But that’s what makes you fun. You're not boring."

Not for the first time, you witness his expression turn sheepish, almost shy and awkward. His fingers fidget behind his folded arms. But he quickly recovers, waving off your compliment.

"What about the other customers?"

The question perks your attention. "I have the best regulars," you reply, thinking of all your customers and their anecdotes. "I love talking to them."

"They seem to like gossiping with you."

"They do! Jinki, they talk a lot. There's this lady who will order parfaits only when she's upset or having a fight with her boyfriend. And also the working man who usually comes in evenings, he always asks if I serve alcohol. It's really hilarious—"

"But you always listen to them."

"Of course I do. Like I said, I love talking to them, I really do. Granted, mostly I just listen to them venting out their problems. But I guess it helps and my beverages too - " you stop yourself. "Sorry. D-did I bore you?"

"No, not at all," he answers, short and fast and most definitely teasing. "I enjoyed it. Come on, tell me more." Jinki is still leaning on the counter. His head is in his propped hand, eyes crinkling in amusement, and his plump lips are curling into a soft smile that makes your heart race. You feel warmth crawling on your cheeks.

"Don't say that. Gosh, that was embarrassing." You're still trying to hide your face behind your hands when a large palm lands on your head. You look up, and see Jinki who has straightened his back to full height, looming over you. Then, his hand is in your hair, ruffling it playfully.

"Cute," Jinki coos with a smile that shows his brilliant teeth and melts your insides into goo. After messing with your hair, he pulls his hand back and you swear his fingers brush past your cheekbones, the touch eliciting shivers down your spine. Unbothered, Jinki goes on his merry way and continues talking about random things as if nothing happened.

The audacity.

+++

"Alright, spill, what's up."

Eunmi's voice pulls you back to reality. Smell of food floods your senses, sweet and sour from kimchi and vinegar, and you remember your lunch with Eunmi. You look at your friend who's grabbing her spoon with a slight annoyance clear on her face.

"What? Nothing," you insist, diving back to your buckwheat noodles to avoid her piercing stare. She tsks at you, not buying the excuse.

"Nothing my ass, you've been staring at the pickles this whole time."

You're not in your cafe, in fact, you close it up for a while to have lunch out. Eunmi invited you to a restaurant near her office, only one station away from the store. It’s a cozy diner that’s not too crowded or loud, so you can talk comfortably. Eunmi brings her own car, and promises to drive you back after lunch.

The fact that even Eunmi realizes your weirdness makes you startled. You listen to her a lot, but it’s never the opposite case. You know your friend well enough to understand she won’t usually catch up on your mood swings, especially because you’re not the kind of person who shows your emotion on your sleeves. But that man just won’t leave your mind, not after driving you crazier with each passing day. Jinki keeps coming over, all smiles and charms and never forgetting to compliment you and your drinks.

And for whatever reason, you always end up talking about yourself for a good amount of time. That never happened before, not before him. You prefer to listen, and you do that well. But with Jinki, rarely does he ramble to you, instead it’s the other way around. Without a doubt, you’re getting too comfortable with him. And how can you not? He’s humble, polite, his smile lights up the whole room, and he looks like that. All soft brown hair and handsome.

"I know that face," Eunmi interrupts your trail of thoughts, her face beaming with mischief. You blink your eyes. That can’t be good. "There's someone, isn't there?"

"What? No!"

"Nu-uh, you can't fool your unnie. You’re smiling like a teenager just now,” she teases while grabbing another spoonful of her dried pollack soup.

You splutter. “I-I did?”

“So, who is it? Come on, tell me something. My coworkers suck and I need some drama."

Cursing your luck, you grumble. Eunmi must be very perceptive to recognize the look on your face. But telling her about Jinki is impossible. You won’t be able to get away by saying “I think Onew from SHINee has been flirting with me non-stop.” It’s going to be a mess--no, a mess would be an understatement.

You take a deep breath, “It’s complicated, okay?”

"Tell me about it." Eunmi snorts.

“I can’t tell you just yet.”

She stares at you directly. “But?”

“It’s just…” You begin, hand already moving to cover your mouth, as if it could help you from the massive embarrassment you feel while discussing this. “I don’t know if I’m reading things correctly,” then, “Like, what if I’m wrong?”

“So you don’t know if he’s into you, or he’s just being nice.”

"Exactly!” you gasp.

She suddenly smirks, leaning back against the chair, "That's easy, just make a move."

"Make a move?"

"Yeah, make a move,” she repeats easily, “Do something similar to what he did to you, and see his reaction. Maybe he's just waiting."

You ponder upon her advice. It’s solid, and actually doable. Albeit unsure, you keep it in mind. "Alright, I’ll try.”

You finish your lunch and go back to the cafe. Eunmi, being the best combination of a friend and a customer, requests a chocolate marshmallow frappe before she returns to her office. Back to your usual place behind the counter, and Eunmi on the chair, she tells you about her vacation plan.

“A long weekend trip with your husband? That’s amazing!” You exclaim to Eunmi who’s radiating happiness.

Eunmi slurps at her drink, humming pleasantly from the sweetness. “Mm-hm,” she responds, the joy radiating from her is a refreshing sight compared to the usual gloom. “We’re going to Damyang.”

“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, patting the older woman’s shoulder. “So you’re leaving tomorrow?”

She nods. “Finally, a time off from those douchebags.”

You laugh, remembering her stories of the god-awful co-workers, then a jingle halts you.

“Oh, welcome!” You say and immediately feel your stomach drop as you see Jinki. Shit, the timing is so bad. Jinki rarely comes in the afternoon, what's up with the rare occurrence? And just by scanning his clothes, you’re more baffled, because today's outfit today is more extreme than usual. He’s wearing one of his worn out track pants and regular trainers.The grey jacket looks okay but he’s wearing the hoodie over a snapback. You can’t see even a strand of his hair. By default, his mask is also on, so you’re not too worried about him being recognized by Eunmi.

Jinki makes his order, glancing at you with sharp eyes, something he doesn’t usually do because you already know his usual menu. You just respond formally before dashing to where your drink machine is at, from the corner of your eye you see him taking a seat near the corner. Not long after, Eunmi’s face is in front of you, worried.

“He looks sketchy,” she whispers in a rush. Jinki? Sketchy? You bit your lip, trying to hold your blank expression in place, instead of the urge to grin.

“Really? I think he’s been here before, though.”

“How can you recognize him? This guy’s all covered from head to toe, (Y/n). It’s so creepy. I hope your man doesn't look like that."

You almost choke on air. Internally you're praying Jinki didn't hear the last part. “Right, right.” You peek at Jinki with a bothered expression, crafted meticulously to deceive Eunmi. You're definitely going to tease Jinki about this later. “I’ll be careful.”

Eunmi grabs her plastic cup before hoisting the bag up her shoulder. She points her manicured nails at you. “You better be, ‘cause I have to go now. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

“I will, don’t worry,” you smile at your customer. Eunmi waves at you, gives a pointed look at Jinki’s back, and goes out of the store. As soon as the door closes, you slump on your post, letting out a loud and exaggerated sigh. You turn your sight to Jinki and find him facing you in his chair. The shit-eating grin on his face makes you more tired.

"Don't get closer, (Y/n)," he acts out, and you're already rolling your eyes. "I might bite."

You blow a raspberry while striding towards his table, a drink in hand. "Sure, sure, can't trust strangers who wear too many hoodies all the time," you grumble, putting Jinki's iced americano on the table.

The man has the audacity to pout at you in retaliation. "Not all the time."

You giggle. "What's the occasion, then?"

"Nothing." He slurps the black coffee, nonchalant and ridiculously bad at lying.

Baffled, you glare at the man who keeps drinking the beverage without care. With another brief observation, you note his outfit is actually not that different than usual. But he never wears a hoodie and a snapback. You can't even see his hair.

Oh.

“I get it!” You clap your hands excitedly as if you’re a seal. “It’s your hair, isn’t it?”

Jinki hisses through gritted teeth, forcing a crooked grin while his eyes are already looking away from yours. Bingo.

“Is it a new color? Did you cut it short?”

Mischievously, Jinki puts a finger in front of his plump lips. “Company secret.”

You pout, and he chuckles. The mischief in his face is annoying yet somehow innocent, you can't bring yourself to get mad at him. It doesn’t help that he looks positively entertained by his own game of guess. But you're ever the curious one, and seeing there's no other customer right now, you have to find out what's behind the hat.

Without much thought, you swat a hand at his snapback, tipping everything that's covering his head backwards.

"Hey!"

As if in slow motion, the hood of his jacket is pushed back, and the hat falls to the floor. Anticipation builds up in your mind when you realize you’re about to see the hair. You hear Jinki yelp, and—

"It's pink!" You gasp out, overwhelmed. Out of all things, you didn't expect to find a mop of mauve pink colored hair underneath the hat. The shade is slightly muted, making it look less artificial. For some reason, it fits Jinki so well. His lightly tanned skin and the hair combined creates an exotic appearance of him.

Jinki is now pouting again, jutting out his lower lip like the hair is a punishment. "I wanted to surprise you, you know."

You tut at him, but leans down to take Jinki's cap off the floor, dusting it slightly. "How long would I have to wait?"

"Uh, until the comeback?"

"You haven't even announced the date," you reply with an unamused expression.

Jinki chuckles. "That's true." Out of a sudden, he poses. "Ta-da! Now you know I have pink hair." The sight brings warmth, because gosh, he's a sight to see. Then, with a huff, Jinki twirls the locks of the aforementioned hair, playing it around. "It's my first time, too."

You, however, are not paying attention to what he's saying. Questions pop into your head, wondering if Jinki’s hair feels soft like how it looks right now. With the lighting in your store interior, combined with warm natural light from the outside, the hair color looks chrome-like. It’s, no pun intended, shiny. All of a sudden, you feel a strong urge to touch it, curious how it will feel against your fingertips. Albeit hesitant, Eunmi’s words echo in your ears, motivating you to test the waters.

Leaning down, you ignore Jinki’s confused gaze and pull a lock of the sakura-colored hair. Your hunch is proven correct, it’s soft and luscious. As if in entrance, you caress more of his teresses, moving them out of his eyes while your fingertips occasionally graze his ear. You’re positively jealous of the care that goes into this man’s hair. It’s so soft, you want to pet it all day. Jinki can lay his head in your lap and you’ll definitely caress his hair all day long without a single complaint. The thought makes you giddy.

Your silly daydream is abruptly stopped when a large hand closes around your wrist, gentle yet firm. Realizing what you’ve done, you yelp.

“I’m sorry, I just--” You look down from the mop of hair to Jinki’s eyes, wide and as surprised as you. The close proximity catches you off guard. When did you lean in this close?

All of a sudden, every word dies in your throat. But his next words bring more surprise.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Y-yes?"

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Jinki cuts through the endless chatter running in your head. That’s not a question you ask out of nowhere, isn’t it? His voice, as usual, is warm… syrupy, but there’s a darker edge in it that you can’t comprehend. You blink at the question, still mute from the shock.

As if shocked by his own question, he visibly gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing and stealing your attention for a second.

“That customer said something about your man.” he murmurs reluctantly. Realization hits you hard, and your jaw drops. So he did hear your conversation with Eunmi.

“No!” You blurt in a rising panic. “There’s no man. No boyfriend.” With each word, your voice becomes more quiet, the embarrassment sucking away your confidence in front of him. But It doesn't help that Jinki’s scrutinizing you from under his eyelashes, making you shrink even more. Finally, the corners of his lips quirk up.

“Really?” He asks, sounding pleased.

"Yeah. She's just teasing me. She does that a lot," you explain with a nervous laugh. You don't know how convincing your lie is, but it makes him hum, the sound is like music to your ears.

“Good,” he whispers before you feel his thumbs rubbing circles on your wrist, languid and relaxed. The calluses of his thumb drag against your smooth skin and you inhale sharply, feeling ripples of heat course through your body from the touch. His half-lidded eyes are now assessing you and you can’t look away as they move on to your lips. As if falling under a spell, the action triggers you to spontaneously look at his lips in turn, full and parted and driving you crazy.

A loud voice jolts you two back to reality. A ringtone. Phone call.

Jinki lets go of your wrist, now panicking and patting his pockets. "It's mine. Where is it, where is it..." When he finds the phone, he picks it up while standing up. "Yes, hyung?"

You see him walk away with clouded senses. Unable to pick which feeling is appropriate to express, disbelief or relief, you give up and run away from the premises, choosing to bury yourself behind the workspace.

+++

"How did it go with your man?" Eunmi asks, face literally glowing after her vacation.

You only groan in reply.

+++

It's closing time.

Moving on to the table top surfaces, you take a cloth, spraying it with a liquid cleaner and getting it ready to wipe the surface. It's going to take a while, but you don't mind. Cleaning makes your mind wander, but at least you're doing something productive.

It's one of the nights you stay late to tidy up new items and play around in the kitchen. You had finished the second attempt of an earl grey frappe before you began tidying up. The clock struck 10 o'clock a few minutes ago, so it's already an hour after your closing time. You already flipped the sign to close, but your lights are still on, intending to turn them off when you leave the store.

Days had passed after that weird confrontation with Jinki. The close proximity you shared that day still brings you heat and confusion in equal amounts, and Jinki didn't make it easier for you to get through the following days. You never addressed that day, not at all. But do things go back to normal? Not exactly.

Jinki keeps getting closer to you. You notice the brush of his fingers against your skin while passing his drink, when you talk on his table he'd tap your arm, or when he's about to leave he likes to give a playful squeeze on your shoulders. On rare occasions, he would tuck your hair out from your face while smiling sweetly before rucking the tresses into a mess. Unhelpful. In addition, you can’t stop talking to him. The man has an excellent capability to extract words from you, asking things about yourself, from your favorite drink to your life before this cafe.

With the comeback date getting close, it’s not surprising when he doesn’t visit as often anymore. Once in a few days he’d come through your door and then scream your name, saying a nonsensical “I miss you!” Little did he know you share the same sentiment, but multiplied and definitely lack the jest.

With his absence, your heart longs more for him. You realize the intangible distance between the two of you has decreased, and you can’t suppress your feelings anymore. It’s silly to fall for an idol, cliche, even. But with his soft demeanor and warm smile that always graces his heart-shaped face, it’s impossible not to.

Despite the admittance of feelings, you’re still in a limbo. You’re not an expert in love. Chasing your dream from a young age, you have no time for romance. You’ve had a fair share of crushes here and there, but never this complicated. It’s impossible to ask for advice, too.

Remembering Eunmi's words, you did make your move on Jinki. And his response was something you never quite get. Did he hate it when you touched his hair? Can you even consider making a move that time a success? Do you even know what success would be like? Many times you stopped yourself from touching him again, whether it’s his hair (which is still bright pink, by the way), or to grab his hand for whatever reason. You’re so drawn to him, like a moth to flames and it’s making you helpless.

By the time you finish polishing the last inch of the counters, the door jingles. An annoyed sigh escapes your mouth, someone doesn’t read the sign on your store. You turn to the door.

"I'm sorry, we're already closed—"

Upon recognizing the visitor, your heart beats faster with surprise and inexplicable yearning. You haven’t seen him in days, and you already forgot what he sounds like. He’s wearing another random baseball hat, but the usual mask is absent. His lips are turned into a frown, his brown eyes, usually so full of life, are unfocused, and the eyebags look prominent. The unusual state makes your stomach twist with discomfort.

"Jinki?” You take a step closer. “It's very late."

The mention of his name jerks him back to reality. Raising his head, his gaze locks with yours wearily. Tentatively, he opens his mouth, trying to get words out, but nothing comes out and he looks away, looking so defeated. Running by instincts, you step closer to him, pulling him by the wrist to drag him in. Now with him standing close to you, you can see the tiredness on his face. The little freckles on his skin are like constellations of stars, you notice he’s not wearing makeup, and you can’t help but find the mole on his chin endearing. He looks so beautiful, but tired.

"Jinki," you call out again, worry lacing each word. "Are you okay?"

As if on cue, Jinki lets out a quiet sigh that makes your heart drop. He doesn’t sound like the usual Jinki you know, and you immediately receive the answer to your question. Gathering your courage, you put a hand on his broad shoulder, and take the other to pull his hat off in order to take a closer look at him. You succeed without any restraint from the man. Then, you rub your hand on the fabric of his shirt, trying to give some sort of reassurance, for what, you don’t know yet, but you’re trying. You see Jinki’s eyes glint for a second, and suddenly a head thumps against your collarbone. Oh. Your hands stop moving, and his hat falls to the floor soundlessly.

Jinki sighs again, this time his warm breath fanning over your clothed shoulder, making you freeze even more. Your head is filled with nothing but the close distance you share with Jinki. His forehead presses firmly on your shoulder, the weight starts to feel heavy, so you stand tall, pushing against the man who’s significantly taller and larger than you, with your hands hanging awkwardly by your sides.

"...It's difficult." You hear him whisper.

You try to peek at him, but all you can see is his soft pink locks. It looks fluffy, despite the hat covering it before, if not slightly damp. Quietly, you inhale his scent, floral and musky but mostly covered by the smell of sweat. It must be from a dance practice. For some reason, you don’t mind it.

"I know my limits, and I've been doing this for years," he murmurs into your shoulders, voice weak and slightly muffled but you still can hear every word. "But it really doesn't get easier."

The words hang in the silent air, with no one speaking afterwards. Deciding to stay and listen, you let him there on your shoulder. Questions run through your head, along with many emotions you’ve never felt before for the man; pity, worry, adoration, and surprise, but you don't dare to speak or ask. Not in such vulnerability.

The next minute runs slowly, and the only thing you can hear in the empty cafe is you and Jinki’s breathing. You hope yours doesn’t sound too fast, but you try to ignore the self conscious thoughts for now.

Suddenly, Jinki tenses and pulls himself away, straightening his back that’s been hunching to reach your height. With his face bare from any makeup, you can see a light flush on his cheeks, and his ears are pink, adorably matching with the hair. He's devastatingly beautiful, and you can’t help but stare in awe. Still drowning in embarrassment, he doesn’t seem to notice.

"I'm very sorry," he whispers, formal all of a sudden, voice still close.

"It's okay." You pat his back with a smile, hoping to cease his groundless embarrassment. "You don't need to apologize, I don't mind."

Jinki looks at you for a moment, mouth parted and eyes expressing an emotion you don’t quite understand, then they turn to crescents as he smiles softly.

"Really?" He asks, voice surprisingly even, a contrast to the state he was in before, and nimbly you nod. "Can I borrow your shoulder again, then?"

Oh. "Y-yeah." Your stomach does the twisty thing and when Jinki once again lays his head on your shoulder, you can hear your heartbeat going faster, thumping softly in your ears. For god's sake, you hope Jinki won't be able to hear or worse, feel them. Without a warning, Jinki shifts his head to the side, and--is he nuzzling? You swear that’s the tip of his nose touching your neck and now there’s puffs of air caressing your veins.

This is too much. It's your first time being this close with him, and it's not the best time to have physical reactions from this intimacy. Ignoring the shivers crawling on your skin, you will yourself to stay still, and even your breathing.

The two of you stay there. Again, you hear Jinki's breathing, then you hear your own. You’re not a physically affectionate person, but all you wish right now is to embrace him properly, to stroke his back and let him stay there for as long as he needs.

So you do that, you raise a hand to his head, caressing his pink tresses. Almost greedily, he leans into your touch, as if he's been waiting for it. With a fond sigh, you can't hold yourself from ruffling his hair further.

“You’ve worked hard.”

Maybe those words won’t be enough, but you find no fault in trying.

You hear Jinki inhale sharply, then he exhales in resignation before pulling back. He’s now standing at his full height, and you have to raise your head to see him properly. Relief blossoms when you catch his calm expression. With that, you share a moment of comfortable silence, exchanging unsaid words through intangible mediums. Then, you pat his shoulder twice before moving away from his personal space.

“Sit down, I’ll make you tea,” you declare to the now panicking man, rustling to get the kettle. Jinki's face is glowing, despite the lack of makeup. He looks animated, tired, but breathtaking. It's almost like you're seeing him in a new light.

"I thought you're already closing up," he complains weakly, and you offer him an innocent smile, pulling one tea bag from the box.

The sound of a chair being pulled is your winning declaration.

"You don’t have to.”

"And you have to drink some tea. Chamomile can help you sleep better," you chide, bringing the cup to the table. As you sit down, you see him fiddling with his hands.

"So… How's your day?"

"Like usual," you shrug. "But less fun without you." His face lights up and you stifle a laugh. "I made an earl grey frappe, but it still needs something."

"A new drink? Can I try?"

You smile widely. "I'll make it for you next time."

"Make sure you don't put too much sugar in it," he winks, and it prompts a laugh from you. Jinki looks better now, more refreshed and light but you catch him zoning out a few times, his gaze seemingly focusing on your face, making you squirm internally.

"What?" You ask, noticing him staring at you again. And he just grins, showing off the adorable gummy smile.

"Nothing." And he's back to his tea. By the time he empties his glass, he offers to wash it by himself. You almost drag his hoodie to stop him, but you finally relent - he already rushes to the sink, that man - and lets him do what seems to be one of his ways to thank people. Relieved, you start to recognize his usual self once more, so you join him with a lighter heart.

You’re taking off your apron when you notice a solemn expression on his face.

“How are you getting home?” He asks.

"I take the bus from the main street, then I walk for a few blocks."

His face turns dark. "Every night?"

You blink at him, searching the issue. “Yeah.”

"Let me drive you home," he declares, walking to your side. "It's already late."

"It's not my first time going home this late, it's fine."

His eyebrows furrow. "No it's not." Much to your surprise he gently takes your hand in his, like he’s hesitant. After seeing no discomfort from your part, he squeezes. “Please, let me drive you home.”

You know you can’t say no, the sincere concern in his face melting your resistance. You simply nod, requesting a few minutes to turn off the lights and pack your bag. He complies before preparing to leave the store first.

"I park my car near the convenience store.”

"The one in the main street, right?" He affirms, and stops. Confused, you wait until he leans closer. He ruffles your hair, messing with it playfully. You yelp a complaint while he laughs, and suddenly, he puts his snapback on top of your head.

With that, he leaves the store to prepare the car.

The gesture leaves you reeling, so you hold the cap to ground yourself. Belatedly, you realize this is going to be the first time you go out with Jinki outside of the comfort of your store. You know it’s nothing big, but it feels new, and exciting. And he’s going to drive you home, the gesture feels too intimate.

Arriving at the main street, you catch a sight of a black car parking near the convenience store. Right by its side is Jinki, waiting for you. He notices your form walking towards him and immediately opens the passenger door for you. Seeing you gawk, he grins.

“Come on,” he says, leading you closer with his hand on your lower back. The action makes you warm inside. You go inside the car wordlessly, and he joins in.

Maybe it's because of how late it is. Perhaps tea does have a good amount of caffeine. Regardless, the two of you are way too lively, especially after a long day of work. Jinki keeps playing random R&B songs and almost plays SHINee’s new song by accident, eliciting a gasp from the man and a delighted squeal from you. You keep telling him the directions, and the car strolls from amidst tall buildings to the residential area, where there are only smaller apartments and condos. He takes the final turn, and you excitedly point at one building, your apartment building. It’s a humble one, but you like how the location is far from dangerous areas of the city, and it’s neat. When Jinki finally parks the car, both of you whoop a drunk-like yaaay! while still laughing at each other.

Jinki gets out of the car first, humming sweetly, and you follow suit, the quietness of your neighborhood contrasts deeply with how loud it was inside the car. But it's a nice and welcomed contrast.

You skip to the staircase to the lobby, and you notice Jinki following you before he stops right before the first stair step. Turning towards him, you're not unfazed by the ever present smile on his handsome face.

The high energy you both share simmers down, turning into a calm and light atmosphere. Surrounded by comfortable silence, you drink in the sight of him, a man that's shining so bright even in the middle of the night, on a sidewalk. However, the moment must come to an end.

"Thank you for driving me home."

"No," Jinki begins, looking straight at you with his dark eyes. "Thank you, (Y/n)."

"Don't mention it," you giggle. Realizing the item on your head, you take it off, offering it to him. "Your hat."

He waves it off. "Keep it until I see you again."

You only grip the snapback since it doesn't look like he's giving you another option. So you nod before taking a deep breath. "Alright then, good night." You exhale, disappointment creeps within your words, unnoticed.

"Wait."

You're about to turn towards the lobby to climb the stairs when his hand grabs yours and unceremoniously pulls you to him. There's a short moment of clarity and your five senses heighten, noticing his smell, his presence and—His lips press unto yours, soft and slightly chapped, you note in a daze. Warm rush of joy fills you, and you're about to return the kiss when he pulls back, the sight of him leaving you speechless. If he was glowing before, now he looks like the sun, all warm smiles and overwhelmingly bright. Even in the dark his pink hair paints an unreal picture. Catching you off guard, he leans in to plant another kiss, this time on your cheek, your disappointment is too apparent because he’s chuckling softly when he drags his lips to your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers hotly, eliciting pleasant shivers down your spine. Leaning back, he waves innocently, gesturing at you to get into the building. Speechless and flabbergasted, you give a small bow before practically running towards your apartment.

That night, you plop onto the bed feeling giddy like a teenager. Your mind wanders to Jinki, and Jinki only, from how he visited you tonight, how his breath feels against your skin, his laugh, his silly pink hair, and - the kiss. After a glance at his hat, which you hang near your bed side, you giggle into your pillow, looking forward to seeing the man tomorrow.

Little do you know you're not going to see him again.

+++

Days pass.

The door to your cafe stays silent at 8 o'clock. There is no sight of a tall man in oversized clothes and mask, no sight of his sakura-colored hair. Ignoring the pang in your chest, you hope he's doing okay at work.

But days turn into weeks, and you know he won't be coming back. You hear news about SHINee's comeback, how successful it is and how all the members look mesmerizing and more handsome than ever. You also hear rumors about a certain man. The news say they spotted him a few times with a female, starting from them getting coffee together, to the more recent one, a picture in which the female had her hands in the crook of his elbow, both of them were smiling, clearly head over heels towards each other. People say they look good together, an idol and a famous actress. Even the fans are supportive of their presumed relationship, saying it's about time their oppa settles down with someone good enough for them.

That day, your heart breaks into pieces.

You drown yourself in work. The auntie from your regular bakery comes over to send you a variation of new cakes, asking about the customer behind regular orders of her traditional pastries. With a strained smile, you say he’s out of town, skillfully lying to the lady, and you don’t know when he will return - this time you’re telling the truth, bitter and a hard pill to swallow. The older lady pats your back, a sad look on her face, everything takes time, my dear, she says with a very knowing gaze. You swallow down a cry, unwilling to be seen so emotionally naked in front of her or anyone else, so you tell her you'll visit her tomorrow. Eunmi knows something's wrong. You hide emotions behind your cheerful self but she recognizes a broken hearted person anywhere, especially when it's her friend. So she takes you out to a pocha - a street vendor - near the neighborhood trying to wash away your pain with eo muk tang and soju. Having quite the high tolerance, you can't even drunkenly spill your secrets to her. But loosened up from alcohol, you tell her about your expectations and how it hurts you. You're grateful for her, nonetheless.

Weeks turn into months. The cold season melts into spring, a season too famous for blossoming love and all that bullshit. You never see him again, not on the news, not in person. He becomes a figment of your memory, a shadow that never fully comes into a tangible form that you can touch, or even gaze at. You toss and turn at night, trying to forget a man who managed to capture your heart, then breaks it mercilessly. You want to punish yourself for missing him, longing to hear his warm voice, his sweet laugh, and how happy he made you feel.

+++

It’s one of your bad days.

Granted, you haven’t been in your best state for months now, but you never let it bother your daily routine. Today, however, is just not your day. You wake up with a dreadful feeling in your stomach, like you’re walking on thin ice. So you wash it down with a cup of triple espresso, letting the caffeine induce faux energy in your veins.

Now you're in the bathroom of your cafe, glaring at your reflection in the mirror. You apply more lip tint and you discover it does improve your appearance, now you're less pale, much to your relief.

"With all due respect, (Y/n), you look like shit" was what Eunmi said to you before she left for her job. Grumbling, you give in and finally fix your appearance in the bathroom. Deeming yourself presentable - in fact, you look good, your hair's on point, you note with a grin - you leave the bathroom.

You see a figure standing in the middle of your cafe.

And he is awfully familiar.

Unbidden, a wave of anger hits you. Clenching your fist, you eye the man has been haunting your mind almost every single night. A shadow that somehow has taken his form, now.

"(Y/n)," he stammers. His voice is like a wake-up call, reviving a ghastly affection that you pushed down in your heart. You always like hearing your name on his tongue, luscious and teasing, but it never sounds this bleak.

Jinki looks different, the most apparent change is his hair, which is now dark brown, reminiscent of the first time you meet him. When was that again? Half a year ago? His fringe is slightly longer, a bit wavy and it fits him so well. Begrudgingly you admit his beauty did not fade, he's still as handsome as ever, if not more, and his cheekbones are more prominent, giving him a sharper appearance.

It's clear as day that he's somber, and the fact incites more anger on your part. Inhaling through your nose, you stomp back to your place behind the counter. From the corner of your eye you see his gaze following your movement.

"What would you like to order?" You ask, because even though you're heartbroken, you're a professional.

"I need to talk to you," he says. Of course he does. Nevertheless, you put on a charming smile before his guilt-stricken face.

"Your order, please."

He leans forward. "I'm sorry - " And that's the wrong answer, not when your day is already bad as it is, not when you feel so awful from the moment you wake up in your bed. Especially not after so many questions and non-existent answers on his behalf.

"If you're not buying anything, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," you say through gritted teeth, your customer service mask slipping off.

After an excruciating silence, he ducks his head, biting his lips, like he needs to stop himself from speaking any further. Then slowly, he walks towards the door. At that point, you should feel triumphant. But the pang in your heart says otherwise as you see his hunched back, filled with disappointment. Before leaving, he turns one more time, looking at you in the eye with a gaze that squeezes your heart painfully.

"I'll come back to visit again."

You watch the empty store, breathing harshly. There's a storm of emotions going inside you, and nothing you do afterwards helps you calm down. You've never been this shaken before, not even when you first heard of Jinki dating on the news. That day, you thought of course, of course he would date the actress. Not someone he randomly kissed after a particularly rough day. Idols are unreachable for a reason. But his reappearance opens a Pandora's box, releasing the feelings you locked in so many months ago.

To make it worse, this time Jinki is not lying. Because the next morning, he's back, he's wearing a black turtleneck shirt paired with slacks and covered by a dark brown coat, looking dashing all while smiling hospitably as he orders a huge americano and a dozen pastries for dine-in. He sits in his usual corner, fiddling with his phone all the while throwing glances at you. It's easy to ignore him with the presence of other customers, but when it's only two of you, it's a whole different kind of challenge.

Surprisingly, the man doesn't attempt to talk to you, at all. Jinki just sits there, waiting. He nibbles on one snack to the other, and continues to wait. You can hear him receiving calls silently, trying to hush his voice, but you hear words like "I'm not coming" and "I'm sorry, but I already told you yesterday” which start to melt the ice that’s settling within you.

The sun is setting when you decide you can't stand it anymore. He's been eating nothing but pastries, he had ordered another glass of coffee and he. Just. Won't. Leave. Checking the time, it's been 9 hours, and you’ve waited long enough, way too long, to get the answers you’ve been asking for.

With dread clawing inside your stomach, you stand up and walk to his table. Jinki notices your presence and immediately perks up. You despise the glimmer of hope in those familiar brown eyes.

"Why are you here?" The tremble in your voice is evident, and you inwardly curse. Jinki, however, looks determined and stares back with a steely gaze.

"I want to talk to you," he states evenly.

"Right now? The store is still open."

The air on his face changes abruptly, and you almost step back, feeling his anger. After throwing you an unexpected sneer, he speed-walks to the door, grabbing your wooden sign and flipping it over from ‘open’ to ‘close’. You stammer a protest, but he's already in front you, looming over with his taller body.

"It's closed." Motivated by desperation, you know he will do anything to get what he wants. But internally you shake off the tingles of warmth you feel when seeing him this assertive. "Can we please talk now?"

You chew the insides of your cheek, biting off your frustration, because you know he got you cornered. With a sigh, you nod. You've listened to many people, many stories ranging from sorrow to joy, and you listen well, quiet and composed. Now, you're anything but. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, uncomfortable with the increasing tension in the air. He remains silent, and you feel more uneasy. When he finally speaks, you should’ve seen it coming.

"I'm sorry." You feel each word stabbing your chest. "I'm sorry for not coming back, I have my reasons so please let me explain first."

You inhale sharply. "You have a girlfriend."

"No, I - "

"You have a girlfriend. Why did you even kiss me?"

Hurt flashes on his face. "She's not my girlfriend. And I kissed you because I wanted to."

Anger rises in your veins.

"Everybody says it. It's all over the news." You hold the urge to sneer, to laugh at his attempt to lie. Jinki’s mouth opens and closes a few times, his hand flailing helplessly. Then, he holds a hand up.

"Give me a minute," he insists before opening up his phone. You're close to berating him for lack of manners but he suddenly holds the phone to you. You look up at him quizzically. He only nods, somber and knowing, so you take it.

You gasp, your stomach churns with dread.

On his phone screen is a picture of the two of you, clearly taken by someone who's not supposed to see it. It was from that night before he stopped visiting, and it has you and him on the main street, right before you enter his car. Your face is hidden by the cap he lent, but he is ushering you into the car with a hand on your lower back. Unlike your features, Jinki's are crystal clear. He’s not wearing anything to cover his face, and his pink hair is bright in the dark. From the proximity, it's obvious what it looks like.

"T-this is - "

"Paparazzi. We managed to prevent the worst case with the help of media insiders, but we still needed to do preventive measures.” At that moment, SHINee was about to start promoting a comeback, if it went wrong, it'd ruin everything. “So, one of my agents suggested I fake-dated another celebrity to cover it up."

Your eyes widen. He stops, and stares at you knowingly.

"I was under heavy scrutinization. The media had their eyes on each and every movement I made. They followed me everywhere." He ducks his head, chuckling with an uncharacteristic self pity in his voice.

"I couldn't visit you. It was too risky. So I waited, and played along with the plan. Thankfully, announcing the relationship was not necessary. The pictures and interactions were enough. In the end, all we had to do was deny the rumors, saying we're just friends who helped each other in her acting gigs. Furthermore, I don't think they managed to publish the original picture. If they did… Let's just say I wouldn't be here."

Silence stretches between the two of you. Your mind is still processing all the things he’d said, but you can feel the blooming hope within your heart, trying to tell you to listen and to give him a chance.

Jinki inhales, chest expanding before letting out of his frustrations through a harsh exhale. Then, he moves forward, taking your hand with his hesitant ones, testing the waters. Staying still, you watch with anticipation and thundering heart as he pulls your hands up.

“I miss you. I miss this place. Being around you makes my worries disappear, as if the only thing that matters is the time we spend together. I've always enjoyed your company since I first visited this place by chance but…” he takes a deep breath, eyes boring straight into yours.

“I didn’t expect to fall for you."

Your breath hitches, and he moves closer. Just an inch closer, testing the waters.

"Please, give me a chance. I didn’t mean to stop seeing you. To stop visiting for months, not being able to see your smile… It was a torture.”

With shallow breaths, the aftermath of your shock, you find yourself unable to say anything. Your head is light and dizzy - clouded with emotions after his revelation. He pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss that stills you even further. His eyes are solemn, filled with so much longing that suddenly becomes clear to you.

"Will you forgive me? Can I try again?”

Months of learning to forget and hate him melts away. There's something in your expression that makes Jinki's eyes soften. You miss that gentleness that brings so much life to the man, but most of all, you miss him. Just him. Letting instinct take over, you pull your hands away from his grasp as his face falls.

"You idiot," you murmur helplessly, moving forward only to punch his chest, albeit weakly, ignoring his protests as he stumbles back with a yelp. "I waited. I waited for you but you never came back, I thought you - you got bored of me or something."

"(Y/n), no - "

Something inside you snaps, and you let words come out like a waterfall.

"I like you a lot, Jinki. More than a lot. I-I think I'm falling for you too. I didn't know what to do when I saw the news. It made me feel so bad about myself. And you just kissed me too. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"W-well, I don't have your number."

Unbidden, you choke out a strangled laugh, noticing the tears that's appearing in your eyes. With trembling fingers, you grab his shirt, hiding your face away in his chest.

"I waited for you." You repeat, voice hoarse and weak.

With a tenderness you never felt before, he holds your face and frowns, regret paints his eyes darker.

"I'm sorry, I'm here now."

"Is it even safe for you to be here?"

"It's been months, I'm out of their radar now, my team made sure of it."

"Stupid."

"I know, I know. I am stupid, I'm sorry."

"I missed you." You finally say, and in a second warmth engulfs your body as he pulls you into his arms. The scent that is undoubtedly Jinki, oh so familiar to you, comforts you almost instantly.

"I missed you, too." He says into your hair, and you return his embrace with a hiccup. "Are you crying? I'm so sorry."

You pull back, stubbornly trying to show him you are not crying but he just laughs - bright and warm, shit, you really missed it - cupping your face so tenderly it makes your cheeks burn. But something in your face makes him frown.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Your eyes widen at the nickname and his face falls. "Um, is it okay if I call you that?"

"S-sure," You reassure him, secretly melting inside.

"Good. So, what's on your mind?" He inquires with a hint of worry. You bite your lips, thinking about a question that has been lingering in your mind.

“So that night, when you kissed me… It wasn’t a mistake?”

At that, a smug smile graces his plump lips. Gosh, you even miss this side of him, the one that takes enjoyment in flustering you.

“I never regret it."

Relief floods your heart, and it leaves blossoms of hope. So you look up at him, putting on a cute expression that hopefully melts him.

“Can you do it again?”

He chuckles, not showing any protest before leaning in to capture your lips.

“Gladly.”

+++

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"I parked the car at a market two blocks away from your cafe, I think we're okay, (Y/n),” he sighs, pushing your back for you to start walking. Due to someone’s reckless action, you closed the store hours before it’s closing time, and now you even get to go home early.

You laugh. "Fine."

There's a part of Jinki that will never agree to you going home by bus, hence why he's insistent on driving you home once again. With a lighter heart, you accept.

But contrasting the previous trip, the ride home is silent. You can hear the faint sound of keys jingling against the dashboard, and the constant clack of pedals being stepped on. You turn your gaze to the driver, the sight of his side profile greeting you. He's breathtaking, you think, the mole on his chin is beyond adorable, and all of a sudden, the man turns his face. He offers you a smile before patting your thighs - as if knowing that smile makes your legs weak - and within seconds his eyes are back on the road, leaving you flustered.

Jinki parks the car across your apartment building, bringing a deja vu to the whole situation. You open the door and step a foot outside, thinking of saying good night to Jinki there and then. But he doesn't share your thoughts, because he's already leaving the car, intending to see you to the lobby.

"Alright then," he says softly. "Good night, (Y/n)."

The insides of your stomach twists. You don’t want him to leave yet. Months passed without him in your life, and despite having brighter days ahead within the new relationship, a selfish part of you still wants to spend time with him, making up for the lost time. You don't know what pushes you forward that night, but you’re already pulling the cuff of his sleeves, fingers curling around the fabric.

Jinki turns around, confusion clear in his brown eyes. "Yes?" He's tilting his head, cute.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" You blurt out and his eyes turn into saucers. "You haven't eaten a proper meal today. I can make something for both of us."

His surprise melts into a bright smile, his eyes crinkling with happiness. You see his ears turning red. "I'd love to."

You step into your home first, taking off your shoes and changing them to slippers. Gingerly, yet excited, you pull another pair of slippers to give to your guest. It’s a pair of white bunny slippers, with little ears as the decoration. You hope he doesn’t mind the design.

"Oh, thank you," he says, stifling a laugh at the object - rude - before ducking to follow your gesture. Then, he removes his coat, hanging it on the rack, revealing a set of broad shoulders and chest, the fabric of his low turtleneck shirt emphasizing the swell of his arms. You hang onto the sight for a little too long, and by the time you look away, Jinki already has a knowing smirk, amused at your dumbfounded expression. With a huff, you practically rush inside your home, ignoring him.

Without even looking, you know he's scanning your room. You're quite proud of it, because it may be small, but you made it as comfy as possible. You don't have dining tables, instead you have island counters and high chairs. Gesturing Jinki to sit there, you excuse yourself to change into more comfortable clothes. As you're about to reach your room, Jinki calls your name. You turn to see him holding a familiar cap from your shelves.

"You kept it with you." He's grinning as he flails the hat, looking all giddy and adorable, and it's contagious.

"Of course, you told me to."

"That I did. But I didn't expect you to hold it after what happened."

He's not wrong. Many times you wanted to throw it away, since it's the only item you have that's left of him, the only string left of the frail connection you had with Jinki. But you couldn't, despite the bittersweet feeling that came from seeing the hat, sometimes you found comfort from it.

As if sensing the deflated mood, he pushes the hat on your head playfully, pulling a laugh from you which halts when the back of his hand caresses your cheek, his eyes assessing you with intrigue. The same hand ends up on your shoulder, giving a light push.

"Go on, aren't you going to change?"

You scowl half-heartedly, trying to ignore the subtle suggestive tone in his voice.

Quickly, you go into your room to store the hat away and change into your usual attire at home, lounge shorts and a large t-shirt. You stride to the kitchen area and take a second to drink in the sight of Jinki in your kitchen. It’s real. The scene is so domestic you can feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Does soybean soup sound good to you?" You ask, now standing in front of the island counter. You laugh internally realizing how similar this is to your usual dynamic at the café. "I have some pork dumplings too.”

Jinki blinks, then he looks at you from your head to toe with half hazed eyes. The way he’s drinking in your form triggers the heat pooling in your belly, especially when he stares at your thighs for a moment too long, and you can't help but squirm under his gaze. It's a truce, you suppose, for you've ogled at him as well.

"That sounds lovely." His voice is quiet, eyes hazy like he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. "Can I do anything to help?"

Bless this man. "Then, can you chop the vegetables?"

"Sure." He gets up and walks to your side, already eyeing a cutting board that’s hanging near the sink. Meanwhile, you’re rummaging through the freezer, acquiring a bag of frozen pork and leek dumplings, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you're cooking together and it's so domestic, fuck - you move to the shelves, intending to get the soybean paste container up there. It's not that high, you swear, but you do need to tiptoe.

Then unexpectedly, a hand goes past yours to grab the container. Familiar scent tickles your nose and warmth seeps through your back, with that you know Jinki’s standing behind you.

Sheepish, you turn to thank him but stop when you realize how close he is. He's looking at you with hooded eyes, intense and filled with emotions you're familiar with, because perhaps, you're mirroring it. A rustling sound catches your attention, and you notice Jinki putting the container down to the counter. You can feel the top surface of the same counter digging into your hips, and belatedly you catch up with your situation, it almost feels like you're cornered.

Jinki puts his hand on the counter by the side of your torso. With the rolled sleeves, the muscle of his arms draws your attention once more, his bicep tensing as the hand presses on the surface. Now you're cornered by his strong arm, and he moves the other to your hair, fingers tickling your temples, dragging them slowly to move your fringe out of the way.

"Are you okay?" Asks Jinki, almost rhetorically, voice lower than you've ever heard in all the time you've known him. He smells like wood and a hint of something floral, and you start to feel intoxicated from it. He's moving closer, at first you can only hear his breath, but within seconds you can feel each puff of air on your skin.

You take note of your heartbeat that runs a mile, the way you breathe in shallow intakes, and the wild butterflies in your stomach. You notice how desperately you want him to touch you, kiss you, it's inappropriate. Then, the answer should be no, you're far from okay.

Instead, you gulp. "Yes," you rasp the answer and the corner of Jinki's mouth quirks up, devilish yet sweet.

"Good."

And then he's on you. His lips descend on yours, urgent and feverish, and you melt against him immediately. You know this is not the first time you kiss, but it wasn’t like this before, that one was short and sweet, you didn't think it could be this hot and intoxicating.

His hand cups your cheek, tilting your head to mold your mouth better, the gesture makes you weak and you let him guide you to his will, and by the time he succeeds, you're already gripping his shoulder for balance and support.

Jinki opens his mouth, pulling your lower lip in between his teeth, grazing and teasing it until you accidentally let out a whimper that causes him to inhale sharply. The noise fuels your need to be closer to him, so you kiss him back harder, trying to take any sort of control. But Jinki's not having it, he puts his hand on your lower back, gripping them tight enough to make you gasp. He uses the opportunity to sneak his tongue past your swollen lips.

Overwhelmed by him, you push your own appendage against his, meeting it shyly. He groans, voice rumbling low like never before and it goes straight into your core. Your lips dance together in a sensual rhythm as the temperature between you seems to increase. Eventually, you grow more breathless, and pull back. He follows suit, detaching your mouth but keeping you close to him. Like tunnel vision, you can only focus on the man who has you in his arms.

Jinki touches your forehead with his, which feels really warm. His whole body radiates heat, like a furnace, and you want the warmth to engulf you more. Pulling back, he cups your face tenderly, calloused thumb rubbing your cheek carefully, as if too much pressure will break you into pieces. You won’t break, but the weight of his gaze does cause you to squirm. Feeling self conscious, you bring a hand up to your face, attempting to hide your disheveled self only to have Jinki tut at the action.

"You always do that." With his large hands, he pries your smaller ones away, showing your flushed face for his delight. He smiles in awe, and you can’t look away.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers.

Elated by the compliment, you mirror his smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips. The harmless peck turns into another heated kiss in no time, with you pressing yourself against him and him parting his irresistible mouth to welcome yours excitedly. Abruptly, he retreats again, chuckling nervously as he puts his hands on your shoulders.

"I’m sorry.” He sounds strained. “If we keep doing this, I won’t be able to stop.”

Again you’re reminded of how much of a gentleman Jinki is, how proper and patient he is. But you had enough. With a ridiculous amount of desperation coming from the ever-growing tension in the air between you two, you muster all of your courage. "Then don't."

With eyes as big as saucers, Jinki is about to say something when you take the chance to grab his arm and lead him to the couch in the middle of your room. You're in no rush, you know he knows what you want, and he's following your lead soundlessly. You sit down, he follows suit and you notice the way he takes no time to turn to you, cupping your face as you lean into the palm of his large hand. Despite the gentleness of his touch, you can see the storm in his eyes and how it waits to crash unto you.

So you end his uncertainty.

"Don't stop." You whisper before leaning in, capturing his lips in a languid kiss. He reciprocates, returning the favor eagerly while his hand wanders on your exposed thighs, the skin to skin contact bringing shivers to your spine. It doesn't take long until your frenzied self shifts closer to him, ending up sitting in his lap, and his lips have left yours in order to explore the skin of your neck. He parts his mouth and starts sucking on your skin, exposed by the large t-shirt. You breathe shakily, positively quivering in his hold. Never would you know the usually calm man can turn you into a molten heat under his touch.

Wanting to feel more of Jinki, your hand wanders from his chest to his abdomen and lower to his thighs, eliciting a hiss from him. Mesmerized by his reaction, you crave more, so you shift in his lap, moving in a way that will make your thighs brush against the hardness between his legs.

"Oh god," he moans out loud, voice gravelly but still melodic to your ears, it brings a proud grin to your face, provoking his eyes to turn dark. He tuts. "Don't get ahead of yourself, sweetheart."

The endearment alone sends a familiar wetness straight to your core. He smiles, knowing exactly what he does.

"May I?"

You nod, and suddenly his hand is on your inner thigh, dancing dangerously close to your center, and your breath hitches, knowing how wet you are by now. His other hand travels to your back, sneaking under your shirt to rub circles there, fingers brushing with the back of your bra repeatedly, the sensations make you whimper and the satisfaction on Jinki's face only brings more excitement in your veins. You almost let out a moan, biting your lip when you feel his finger pressing on your core through the pants.

"What was that?" He hums, putting more pressure.

"Don't tease me," you manage out, holding his upper arm with a trembling hand. Your last sliver of pride seems to fire a challenge within him, so you curse out loud when he easily pulls your pants down along with your panties, leaving you exposed. He rubs your thighs appreciatively, making you whimper.

"Jinki, please…"

The way his name sounds on your tongue right now must be so erotic, because you can feel his erection twitch in response. He hums, leaning in to ghost his lips over yours.

"What do you want, sweetheart?"

"Please touch me." Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

Deceptively calm, he slowly spreads your legs, putting one foot on the couch and the other dangling on his strong thigh, and drags his thick finger on your slit. That first contact alone pulls a moan out of you causing him to sigh with appreciation.

"You're so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Don't say that - "

He gives you a crooked smile. "What? It's true, you're soaked."

It's not a secret that he enjoys teasing you until you lose your composure, but this time he's driving you crazy, and you know he's reveling in it. Losing control, you gasp as you feel a touch on your clit before his finger enters you easily. You bite your lip, closing your eyes as the glorious sensation takes you by surprise, and you lean forward to hide your face in the crook of Jinki's neck. He whispers sweet words, his other hand holds you tightly as the other keeps fingering you. Then, he pulls your body away, raising your chin, his eyes meet your questioning ones. Your answer arrives when another finger pushes into your wet cavern, making you keen. "A-ah - "

"Is that okay?"

The consideration doesn't go unnoticed. You nod, and he pulls you closer for a kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible. It's messy, you keep moaning into his lips, leaning back to pant as Jinki picks up speed, you have to hold a scream when he goes deeper, and crooks his fingers to a spot that rocks your body into a quivering mess.

Your control breaks when he rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling the pleasure building, and you can't stop the euphoric moans coming out of your mouth. Jinki stares at you with wonder in his eyes, appreciating your form as you gasp and pant his name so beautifully.

"Are you close?"

Feeling the intense heat coiling in your lower abdomen, you can only nod, but he persists, taking your chin rather forcefully you almost feel ashamed of how much you like it. His usually warm brown eyes are like molten lava, burning with desire and it lights you up in flame.

"No, tell me, are you close?" He demands with a harsh swipe on your clit and you arch your back in intense pleasure. You clench harder on his fingers, struggling to find words to answer him.

"Please, I'm so close - ah," You haven't finished your words when his hand increases the speed, going deep to rub your inner walls all without warning. You are in a sweet delirium, not caring of anything else at the moment. Your breaths are shallow, chest heaving up and down as your orgasm is teetering very closely.

Knowingly, Jinki looks into your eyes, hunger visible in the depths of brown. But his words are soft.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

With a high pitched moan, you let your climax crash into you, pussy walls clenching around his fingers that have been fucking you for a while now. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent that starts to mix with sweat. It calms you, so you breathe in more, still panting from your orgasm.

"Good girl," he murmurs into your hair, peppering kisses on the crown of your head, and you respond with a strained laugh.

"Oh my god, you're insane."

He joins in, ruffling your hair playfully. Looking back up, you see him staring at you with equal parts adoration and lust and the huge hardness underneath you calls your attention.

"Hey, what's wrong?" His voice is strained yet gentle, slightly concerned with the sudden silence. You look down, and he immediately knows what you're thinking.

"(Y/n), we don't have to - "

"Jinki, I want you." You lean closer, brushing your lips against his alluringly, silencing him. "I told you not to stop. Don't you want me?"

He swallows, control slipping.

"I want you so bad." He whispers, voice strained. He's devouring you with his gaze, hands cupping your face possessively. Intending to push him to his limits, you take his hand and slowly kiss each finger, pressing light pecks on the callused skin. You start sucking on his thumb, and he curses before eagerly pushing the thick finger in your wet mouth, pressing against your tongue. He's a storm about to explode, and you know it.

"Shit, I want you all for myself," Jinki grits out. He grabs your waist roughly, making you gasp around his thumb, before he pulls it out. "I want you begging me to let you cum, like you did just now."

You moan at his words, unconsciously rolling your hips to his, which pulls a pained groan from him. At that moment, you know he can't resist you anymore.

"Do you want it, sweetheart? Are you sure?" He finally asks, and you nod, eyes determined and rightfully desperate. You're a wet mess and you want nothing but to have Jinki inside of you. No longer wanting to wait, you finally go for his ear, whispering your one and only wish for the night.

"Please fuck me, Jinki. Make me yours."

He inhales sharply. With shallow breaths, he tugs you closer, kissing you deeply before shifting you in his arms. You yelp as he picks you up easily and starts walking towards your bedroom.

"There's no way we're doing it on a couch." He winks before dropping you on the bed while your squeal fills in the room.

As if there's a switch, the laughing subsides. With one glance at the man before you, you can only focus on one thing. You rush to pull off Jinki's shirt, and you marvel at his body and all the defined muscles. Taking a little too much time ogling him, Jinki chuckles, but you can hear the slight nervousness, and goes ahead to unbuckle his belt. The action jolts you back into reality, so you help him to remove the offending fabric.

Your hands are trembling, but Jinki's too, and you find comfort from it as you fumble around, too excited to care about anything else in the world.

Growing impatient, you capture his lips again which he responds to eagerly. God, his lips are soft. Your hand goes south to palm him through his briefs, trying to stimulate him more. With a muffled moan, he asserts his strength and takes your hand before flipping your position and resuming the kiss. Trapped under his strong body, you let yours go pliant as his hands explore it greedily.

He all but rips your oversized shirt before pushing you back down on your bed. Satisfied and not being able to hold himself back anymore, he cups your breast through your bra, making you gasp, and he quickly removes it before going straight to tweak a pebbled nipple. Sighing in pleasure, you move your hips upwards, needing some friction. Jinki notices it and smirks.

"Impatient, aren't we?"

Perhaps you should feel more ashamed for your wanton, but there's no remorse, only a painful need for the man before you. Who you’ve waited for so long.

You let out a whine. "Please?"

"Please what?"

"I want you inside me - oh!"

Without a warning, Jinki pushes in two fingers into your heat, the earlier wetness and your own release help in slicking his fingers.

"Like this, sweetheart?" He asks, clearly teasing you, playing with your bundle of nerves, your noises encouraging him to arouse your body further.

"Jinki, please…" You all but beg, hands reaching to touch his body, down to his cock, still in the briefs, trying to send an obvious message to your lover.

With a smile, he pulls out his fingers. Like the patient person he is, he takes his time to take off his briefs, finally freeing his hard cock. You can't help but feel intimidated by his size. Deceptively slow, he strokes himself while peering down at you, enjoying the fucked out look in your eyes and leaving you almost drooling at the sight he provides.

"God, I want you so bad," he grunts. "You don't know how long I've wanted this."

"It wouldn't take too long if you hadn't left," you whine instantly, making him pout.

"I'm going to make it up to you, okay, sweetheart?" He leans in, peppering kisses on your cheeks while slowly pulling your legs open. “We have all the time now.” You marvel at his gaze, loving and all heat at the same time. After wetting his cock with all your essence, he finally starts pushing in, tensing your whole body.

"Relax," he says, caressing your thighs softly and you nod, letting him push himself inch by inch. God, he's huge and he's stretching you so well.

"More," you whimper and he knows you're growing impatient as well, in one swift motion, he pushes all the way in and makes you moan in pleasure. You can feel his girth around your walls, and you clench unconsciously.

"Shit (Y/n), don't do that." He pulls back while chuckling, the tip of his cock almost leaving your core. "Let me make you feel good first."

You nod weakly, about to say something, anything but get cut off when he pushes in again, this time deeper.

"Jinki," you moan as he replies with a quiet "Okay?" To which you nod.

And he does. He slides in again, and again, and you can't even form words to save your life. His cock feels amazing, fucking you like there's no tomorrow. You pull him closer by the neck, kissing him hard and sloppy. Taking advantage of your muffled mouth, Jinki wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you up slightly and making your legs wrap around him before he starts pounding into you relentlessly. He swallows your euphoric screams, only pulling away to enjoy your expression, basking in pleasure.

As soon as his cock hits your pleasurable spot, you gasp out and clench hard, earning a guttural moan from him. "Jinki, I'm - "

"You're close, aren't you sweetheart? Are you going to cum for me again?"

"Yes! Please - oh my god," you ramble before your words turn into a high pitched moan as you feel Jinki's fingers playing with your clit. You're so close, the second orgasm already creeping up to you, more intense than the first.

"You were so beautiful when you cum earlier, will you show it to me again?" He offers a sweet smile, contrasting the way he's pounding into your pussy and you only whimper in answer. He pinches your engorged bundle of nerves, expression turning dark.

"Answer me, can you, sweetheart?"

"Yes!" You gasp out, the stimulation jolts fire within you. "Yes, only for you Jinki."

With a particularly harsh thrust, you choke a gasp before a wave of pleasure hits you. You can feel yourself clenching uncontrollably, legs shaking as Jinki pulls you closer, pressing a kiss on your temple.

"Good girl, my good girl," he rambles, chasing his own high desperately. Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, he gives one last push before groaning in release, spilling his essence inside you. You sigh with content, running your fingers in his soft brown locks. After a moment, he leaves your neck, craning his head up before smiling broadly, the post-coital glow so apparent on his face. You grin, pressing a kiss on his nose, which makes him laugh.

"Hang on," he murmurs, pulling out of you before plopping down on your side. "Hi."

"Hi," you respond, moving to his arms, grinning and giddy from your own high. He wraps his arms around you, pressing his cheeks into the skin of your neck.

"Still up to cook?" He asks, and you realize all the cooking supplies you've prepared in the kitchen. You get up, but he stops you. "Let's just order a takeout. I'll help you clean out the kitchen."

You sigh. "Fine."

"You can cook breakfast tomorrow."

You blink owlishly, which gets a sheepish smile in return.

"Can I stay over?"

A large smile blossoms on your face. "Of course."

“Give me a second then.” He begrudgingly gets up, looking slightly lost for a moment before finding his phone. The sight amuses you so much you don’t realize Jinki pouting as he makes a call.

"I won't be coming back tonight," Jinki says to the phone before a loud shouting blasts from the device. He laughs, looking behind to catch your gaze before smiling wide. "Sure, I'll introduce her later to you."

"Wha - Taemin?" A scoff. "You two have fun, then."

Finishing the call, he crawls back to your embrace in the bed, making you giggle. Jinki hums with contentment before nudging you back, wishing to see your face. You don't know what he sees, but his smile turns softer, and he really looks like the sun.

"You're insane." he half-whispers, and you laugh, boisterous and too giddy. You decide to tease him.

"But you haven't seen nothing yet."

His lips quirk into a devious grin. "Is that a challenge?"

You only smirk in reply, which encourages Jinki to lean up and try to kiss you, but something comes to your mind so you push yourself off him.

"Wait here, we need to clean up." Ignoring his disappointed look, you stand up and start to walk away. Suddenly, you hear a loud rumbling noise. When you see Jinki, he already has a hand on his stomach with only a mild surprise, like he knows it will happen sooner or later. You huff.

"And you need to eat."

He laughs, following suit only to wrap his hands around your waist, seemingly unable to detach himself from you for too long. You grumble, attempting to wrestle away from him. But he's stronger, and holds you so you're looking at him. With a voice as warm and sweet as his favorite drink, he murmurs.

"Just one more kiss, sweetheart, then dinner."

The nickname works like a charm. Albeit having disbelief in his self-control - and yours too, to be frank - you give in, relaxing your body and accepting his lips on yours again, thankful that he returns, excited for the days you'll spend together with him in your life.

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