#nshitty frathouse
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get over it - l. jeno
-> jeno x fem!reader
-> established relationship, uni au, smut, tiny fluff at the end
-> w: unprotected sex (please practice safe sex for the safety of you and others!), oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, face slapping, cum eating, spitting, snowballing, rough sex, cream pie, overuse of the word ‘baby’. overstim, lots of crying (reader)
-> a/n: i'm literally so wet (from spilling water on myself of course) help this took up five pages on google docs.
“You are so stubborn.” you scoffed, setting down your mug on the dinner table.
“I am not!” he argued. You stared down at the pink haired boy who had his pencil gripped tightly in between his fingers. The two of you were working on your homework, him doing his kinesiology assignment and you doing your physics work.
“Yes, you are! You’re so stubborn you won’t even try the new Vietnamese place around the corner!”
“I like our regular place!” you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “I have a routine that I like to stick to, you know that.”
“Yeah? Well maybe you should get over it.”
“You get over it.” he mumbled.
“It’s not like I’m asking you to change positions.” Jeno looked up at you with hard eyes, his jaw ticking.
“Oh, you wanna change that too?” he said, his voice raising slightly.
“Maybe! What would you do if I said yes?” your voice raised to the same tone and slammed your hand down on the table, which he followed suit.
“Alright, if you really wanna do that, take your clothes off!”
“Fine!” you stood up so quickly the chair fell backwards before marching towards the bedroom, your boyfriend stomping right behind you.
Rushing towards him, your lips crashed against his, and his fingers curling into your hair. The kiss was hard– a clash of teeth and tongue, and yet his lips were so sweet, tasting like a mix of cherry and vanilla.
Your chest was flush against his own, the warmth of his clothes seeping into your skin as you kissed. You could feel his hardening length through his jeans as you pressed up against him, your hands creeping to his belt buckle. Hurriedly undoing the leather, you reached the button and pulled down the zipper, revealing your boyfriend's hard-on.
Jeno tugged on your hair lightly but his lips swallowed the moan you let out. The corners of his lips curled upwards, smiling while feeling you nip at his bottom lip. He enjoyed how needy you had gotten after some simple kissing.
Pulling away, you felt a rough hand on your shoulder, pushing you down. “On your knees, baby.” There was nothing sweet about his voice; it was filled with lust and a drop of mischief. Reaching up, you hooked your fingers around the materials and pulled down, freeing his erection. The vein on his cock was prominent, the tip was so pink and wet that you ached to taste it.
With his hand at the base of his member, he tapped your bottom lip with the tip of his cock once, twice, and then let it rest there, letting it twitch for a moment before he said, “Open up, baby.” You opened your mouth the slightest bit, barely leaving any space for him to enter, like a brat.
With a scoff, Jeno brought his hand down to your mouth, wedging it open with his fingers. Jeno’s cock slid smoothly between your lips, and added weight to your tongue. The warmth of your mouth engulfed the boy, but he held onto his urges for later. “Why don’t we stretch that bothersome mouth of yours out, hm?” He raised a brow. Your body stilled as he slowly thrust in and out of mouth, your hands forming fists on your thighs. Jeno’s head rolled back as he took in a breath through his teeth before letting it out in a guttural moan.
One set of nimble fingers weaving into your hair, and the other set teasingly lifting the bottom of his shirt up a few inches before dropping it. The slight view of his abs made your stomach clench, the constant teases making you want more.
As he began to slide further down your throat, you panicked and your body stiffened, throat burning from the lack of air.
“Breathe through your nose, baby.” He paused and let you adjust before sliding in more. “Just like we’ve practised.” He held your hair as he gained a pace, watching his bulge fill the front of your throat. You kept your tongue glued to the underside of his cock, the softness sending a shock of pleasure up Jeno’s cock and into his stomach.
“Shit,” he groaned. “That all this mouth good for?” He suddenly quickened his thrusts. He listened for the way you choked on him, slurped up your spit, but it was useless; drool was leaking from the sides of your mouth down your chin. “No, no, of course it’s not…” he answered. “It’s good for pissing me off, kissing… it makes that pretty smile you give me in the morning when you wake up. It just so happens that you’re also good for sucking my cock.” You wanted to feign anger– get him even more annoyed with you– but right now, your lips were being stretched out, like a hole for Jeno to fuck his dick into.
He watched your throat expand and contract. “Takin’ it like a good girl,” he muttered. “No back talk? Strange.” He grinned arrogantly. “If only you could’ve been this way earlier.” He stopped his thrusts with his dick deep in your throat.
You whimpered around him; your muscles spasming around him as you struggled for air. The tears that Jeno was waiting for oh, so patiently, finally rolled silently down your cheeks. Looking up at him with wide eyes and upturned eyebrows, Jeno felt himself twitch. God, you looked good with his cock stuffed down your throat with your hair all ruffled and your face a sloppy mess.
Jeno slapped your cheek. “Huh? Nothin’ to say now? I can’t hear you, baby.” He slid his cock out, a thick string of spit following, and you immediately coughed roughly and gasped. He yanked your jaw up so your tearful gaze was fixed on him, and he slapped your face with his cock. The blunt, wet sound carried through the room. He used the tip to drag his precum and your drool across your cheeks and all over your lower face. “Such a fucking mess,” he muttered.
All this time he was too focused on you sucking on his cock to realize you’d been grinding your pussy on your own fingers.
“Such a horny girl.” Jeno bit his lip, loving the way you were behaving. “Tell me,” he began. “Want me to cum in your mouth or in your pussy?” The ultimatum was tempting, but you knew what you wanted. “Don’t be shy, baby. Y’know I’ll do anything for ya.”
You looked down, but Jeno made sure to catch your jaw and force you to lock eyes with him. “Both.” you told him.
“That’s my girl.” he said incredulously, smiling with amusement. Without another word, he clamped his hands into your hair and moved your head in sync with his thrusts.
Tears were pouring down your messy face—but the feeling of his cock sliding down so far inside of you, tasting him all through your throat, turned you on. Deep, guttural moans drew from the back of your muffled throat and vibrated around your boyfriend’s dick.
You watched Jeno throw his head back as he jackhammered into your mouth through the tears in your eyes.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna come.” The groan he let out was enough to make you cum for the first time tonight, your mouth milking his cock as it fluttered around him.
Although he stilled, his hips shook as his cum spilled onto your tongue. With your mouth still open, Jeno stood you back up, gliding his tongue over yours. You whined, wanting to swallow what he had given to you, quieting down when you felt something warm hit your tongue. Jeno smirked, watching how you swallowed immediately, letting you pull him in for a soft kiss after, leading to more and more.
“Come on baby, why don’t you get on the bed for me.” he said. You followed his suggestion, scooting up to place your head on one of the many pillows.
Jeno pressed a kiss to your lips, then to your throat, then down your chest, stopping to pay attention to each breast before he continued down your navel. When he reached the spot in between your thighs, he took a moment and stared at the mess you made down there. The left corner of his mouth tugged up into a devilish smile, his hand reaching out to run his thumb over your slit. Placing his finger to his puckered lips, Jeno let out a groan before he pulled his shirt off, now completely naked before you.
Your boyfriend adjusted his position so that his nose was millimetres away from your sopping pussy.
His tongue laid flat across your throbbing cunt, the sensation instantly sending goosebumps to your skin, causing your thighs to clasp around his head. When he looked up, Jeno noticed how the bottom of your caught lip was caught in between your teeth. His eyes trailed all over your body as he gave a few kitten licks to your heat, his cock hardening even more at the sight of your hands toying with your perked breast. Your fingers were circling the hardened nubs, the way he normally does to you. The sight made his mouth water, only adding more wetness to your soaking cunt. Your eyes were closed but your jaw was cracked open, only whines making themselves heard.
Jeno’s tongue swirled on your pussy one last time, before his swollen lips clinged onto your engorged clit. He hummed, the vibration causing you to shiver.
“Baby,” The male detached his mouth from your lower lips, so he could use the pad of his thumb to stroke your clit, “You have such a pretty pussy. Have I ever told you that?” You hummed in response, yet your eyebrows creased and a small pout formed, like you were about to cry. “Oh I’m sorry for stopping.” he pecked your thigh tenderly before continuing.
He ran his finger along your wet folds, listening to the moans and whimpers you let out like it was music to his ears. His tongue found its way back to your pussy, this time prodding at your hole.
Jeno placed a hand on your stomach to hold you down from your squirmish tendencies, but his eyes never left yours. Jeno’s gaze was so intimidating… too intimidating, most would think. Even after almost four years of dating, his dark stare would always make you feel small. That along with the vigour of his tongue was enough to set you off.
Focusing back on your pleasure, he worked his tongue in a full circle around your clit, lapping at the bundle of nerves and pressing his shoulders into the backs of your thighs as he buried his face into your dripping heat.
Your fingers curled into his hair, nails scratched at his pink hair. With your back arching, your ass lifted ever so slightly off the bed, giving Jeno the idea of letting your legs rest on his shoulders.
He moved one large hand under your lower back to press your cunt into his face, forcing you to stay there. The other hand busied itself with plunging two fingers inside you, curling the digits upwards to stroke your silken walls. He couldn’t stop the growl low in his throat when you mewled, the walls of your pussy clenching around his fingers.
His plump lips then pressed against your nub again, sucking harshly, making your scream out.
“Cumming! Oh, fuck– I’m cumming.” The boy smiled when your legs closed around his head, almost suffocating him.
“Such a sweet, sweet girl I have.” he hummed after you came down from your high. “Want you to turn around for me.”
That was new… but you were also the one who told him you wanted to change positions.
You obliged anyways, laying with your head in the pillows, waiting for him to make the next move.
Reaching down between your bodies, Jeno grabbed his aching cock and dragged it up and down your slit a few times while kissing your neck. You could feel the disparity in your core each time the leaking tip of his cock met your throbbing clit, your desires practically screaming for him to thrust into you.
You let out a soft whimper, moaning his name and begging to please just do more than just tease you. You wanted him to give you more, more of him, more of his touch– and to that, he obeyed.
He dragged the tip down your slit a final time before letting it slide into you, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth.
His body was heavy on yours, pressing you down hard against the mattress. He pulled back and thrusted back into you again harder, skin slapping against skin echoing through the space.
Pulled up by your hair, Jeno continued ramming into you from behind, turning your head enough to bring you into a messy kiss.
He picked up a faster pace and it became harder to breathe with his tongue swirling around your mouth. You pulled away from his lips to get a chance to regain your breath and in response he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand travelling down to rub your clit.
“J-jen, I’m-”
“I know baby, but aren’t you the one who wanted a change of pace?” A whimper left your lips in response, making your boyfriend sneer.
Moving from your hair, Jeno’s hand gripped your neck, keeping you in place against his bare chest without adding pressure to you.
He nibbled at your ear and began to go even faster, almost brutal. He was groaning with each breath as he desperately tried to fuck you as fast and hard as he could, driving you insane.
Your thighs were aching and your breath was ragged when he suddenly abruptly stopped. Your heart was racing and your muscles were crying out for relief.
His cock was buried deep and he kissed your skin, pecking and sucking loudly.
His cock slipped out of you almost all the way before he thrusted back into you, picking up his brutal pace from before.
Once again, he was pounding into you with no mercy, making you scream out his name loud and clear making the smirk on his lips grow even wider. He hid his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder, sighing against your skin.
He stopped again. Your muscles were burning, clenching, trying to grasp at anything that would give your body pleasure.
His chest was moving up and down rapidly, the sound of each of your breaths filling the room.
“If you wanna stop, tell me now.” He said, adjusting his grip on your neck.
“P-please no.” You mumbled. “Keep going Jeno, please.” You sobbed, a tear even hitting the boy’s arm.
Jeno let out an orgasm-worthy moan as he started back up again.
“Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” He asked, followed by a chuckle.
All you could do was nod against his shoulder. Your jaw was left ajar again, your moans flowing out from your plump lips.
You were holding on to his arm for dear life, the crescent moon shape of your nails printing into his pale, damp skin.
“How many time you think I can make you cum tonight? Hm?” He asked as he began to move his hips slowly again. “Three times? Does three sound good? Or maybe four… does four times sound more appealing.”
“Mmmm” You hummed as a response.
“Four it is then.” He licked the shell of your ear, letting his dick fall out of you— leaving you a whining mess.
Jeno’s fingers continue to rub circles into the sensitive nub between your thighs, some big, and some small. Eyes closed, you gasp softly, trying to catch your breath when two fingers enter your puffy hole. Goosebumps cover your skin, as he presses his lips to your cheek and his fingers to your g-spot.
A smirk invades his mouth as you press your ass onto his hard cock, missing the feeling but loving the one his fingers were giving you.
You cry out when his left hand slides down your body to your cunt, roughly padded fingertips grazing over your clit. “Please...Jeno, hurry.”
A small gasp leaves your lips as your hips move to meet the motions of both his hands. He was gentle, his fingers moving slowly at first, as his lips moved back to your neck kissing your soft skin, before latching to make a mark. “‘M so close…” Your voice brings him out of his action. You gasp at the feeling of the slight stretch. It was nothing compared to his cock, but he knew exactly what he was doing.
“So soon? But we practically just- oh.” He chuckled as your walls fluttered around his fingers.
He gave you about a minute's worth of rest before whispering into your ear.
“You ready for the last one?”
You moan to his question, nodding, your fingers gripping this muscled arm, your answer morphing into a scream at the unexpected change of girth. You barely even noticed from the sensations on your clit that there was a difference in fill.
This time he built up his pace, going faster and faster with each thrust from starting off slow and getting closer and closer to his release.
Nails were digging into skin and a thin layer of sweat now covered both your bodies.
He began to moan short and loud with each pounding motion as his climax grew closer and closer and you could feel your pulsating core come undone around his cock again when he thrusted into you with full force and slapped your clit, triggering your orgasm.
Your body fell forward, but Jeno held himself up, gripping your hips tightly to fuck you through each other’s orgasms.
“Fuck, y/n.” He let out a moan louder than you’d ever heard come from him. His hips falter just as he releases his load inside you— making you feel more full than ever.
He continued to grind into you after fixing your position, the both of you being able to see one another now. Breathless and sweaty he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Was I too hard on you?” He asked shyly now that everything was over and done with. You shook your head.
“But what do you think… should we change positions every once in a while?”
“That could be something I’m interested in doing, sometime in the future.” He grinned, making you laugh. He joined in too when you hit his chest, catching your wrist and pulling you into another, soft and tender kiss.
#jeno smut#nct dream smut#nct smut#nshitty frathouse#lee jeno smut#nct u smut#jeno fluff#nct dream fluff#nct fluff
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-[ nct dream: late-night headcanons
P: ot7 dream x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, headcanons | Inc: laughter, playing the guitar, cuddles, taking pictures, art, playing games with them, making ramen, coffee shop runs, Daegal, late-night ice cream bc I said so, I'm in love with boys can you tell??, star-gazing, learning Chinese with Renjun | Wc: 681 | W: food/drink | R: G
Minnie's Notes: Here you go my lovely @renjuns-grillfreind <3
Mark Lee | 이민형
Late nights with Mark are full of laughter and deep conversations about everything and nothing all at once. Eyes shut as you listen to him cover your favourite songs and embarrassed smiles while he teaches you how to play the guitar. Listening to the curated playlist he made for you while you lay together and watch the ceiling. Sneaking pictures of him without makeup, refusing to delete it because he looks pretty like that and pointing out every little feature you like about it. Hint; it’s everything.
Huang Renjun | 런줜
Twilight hours spent getting lost in various art projects together, watching over Jun’s shoulder as he finishes another one of his pieces. Deep conversations about the future and your goals; he promises to support you as much as humanly possible. Staying up over the phone for little Chinese language lessons while you both fight the urge to sleep. Tracing constellations in the night sky in the park with nothing else but coffee, blankets and all the time in the world. Late-night photoshoots against alleyways, laughing at how bad the picture came out while taking the best ones as shared wallpapers.
Lee Jeno | 이제노
Late nights spent looking at new desk setups and decorations for your shared gaming spaces. Laughing at Hyuck’s incessant yelling down the mics when you ‘accidentally’ let yourself get killed in-game to spend more time with Jeno away from the screen. Content smiles when he wraps his arms around you from behind while you’re making hot chocolates, his head buried in the crook of your neck. Constant discussions over adopting a puppy and all the aesthetic things the pair of you could do as pup-parents.
Lee Donghyuck | 이동혁
Staying up watching as he plays round after round with the others, chuckling as he shouts obscenities over his headphones. Filming Hyuck to use as ‘blackmail’ material in the group chat later on. Popping open a can for the pair of you when he finally finishes playing, the clock hits two am easily. Throwing a pillow in his face when he suggests something absolutely insane and laughing at his over-the-top offended face. Pretending to film that reality show he keeps talking about whenever he starts going off on one of his tangents. Sharing snacks while you bicker over what to watch and watching the same show for the nth time.
Na Jaemin | 나재민
Late night coffee runs where you gawk at the sheer amount of extra espresso shots he adds to his drink order. Running after him as he pulls you to the next 24/7 café he finds. Listening to him ramble about his day while you watch with an endeared smile because how does he still have all this energy? Waking up at unholy times because Jaemin’s calling you over to bake muffins with him. Enjoying your freshly made midnight snacks with a drama marathon wrapped under blankets.
Zhong Chenle | 천러
Falling asleep against his shoulder three dramas into your tv marathon, his hands gently laced through your hair. Playing with Daegal and struggling not to wake up the entire neighbourhood with your shared laughter, the small dog just too cute. Wandering the convenience store looking for the best midnight snack before settling on buying an entire bag full because no one could come up with a clear answer. Nibbling on the bag of snacks on the way home while ranting about each other’s day and making fun of his hyungs – with good intentions.
Park Jisung | 박지성
Waking up to Jisung pleading you to join him on one of his late-night craving-induced trips to the store to get ice creams. Laughing about your brain freezes while trying to down the frozen treats. Watching (read; supervising) him make ramen and applauding when he manages to not burn the kitchen down; his hyungs aren’t exactly keen on waking up to the smell of a burnt kitchen and a panicking Park Jisung. Eating said ramen by the balcony and watching the rain hit the ground outside. Counting as many graveyard shift workers making their way across the street and wondering what their day looks like. Laying in each other’s lap and relaxing while you play with each other’s hair.
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Labels - L.D.H
Pairing: business heir!haechan x ceo!female reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut, slow burn (sort of?)
Content: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, first time sex, LGBTQ mentions (nothing extream), choking, clitorial stimuation, degrading, praising, boob play, monster cock Haechan, nicknames, mentions of mastrubation, spit (if you squint), fingering, vaginal penetration (let me know if I missed anything)
Words: 19.6 K (I got carried away T_T)
Notes: Hi. so, uh, clearly, I got carried away. I didn’t think it’d be this much when I started, but you know here we are. Also, both characters, Haechan and Y/n have thoughts which I’ve given in different fonts.
This would be Haechan
This would be Y/n.
Do enjoy whatever I have rushed since I am in a rush. I have exams so let me just before I disappear. ——————————————————————————————————
“No, no, no, no mom, mom, listen–” you stare at her face boldly, spitting each word out.
“I. Am. Not. Getting. Married.” you spoke each word, storming out of the living room.
They wanted you to get married to someone you don’t even know. All of all, they want you to get married. You’ve only just started your own company, you have a long future ahead. You’re most definitely not looking forward to ruining that by getting married.
You shut the door to your room, careful to shut it without sound. You’ve already pissed your mom off , if she hears you banging doors, she’s going to come at you.
They wanted you to get married to the son of the Lee household for family, relational and business relationship building with them. You haven’t even seen the said son from the family, asking to marry him was a stretch.
Small knocks sound on your door and you whip your head up, ander subdued.
“Come in,” you mumble, and your dad steps in through the door, smiling gently.
“Hi cupcake, is everything okay? Your mother won’t talk to me,” he says, sitting down beside you. You lean your head on his shoulder, a sigh leaving your lips.
“She wants me to get married to the son of the Lee’s,” you mumble, and your dad sighs. There’s something in that sigh that says there’s a lot of trouble.
“Have–” he pauses, closing his eyes. It was hard for him to ask of you, especially knowing that you didn’t like the idea.
“Have you considered it?” you lift your head from his shoulders, and stare at him. You weren’t expecting him to say that, he was your everything.
“D-dad, I said I don’t like the idea of it,” you mention, and your dad nods and sighs. There has to be something wrong because that’s the third time he’s sighed in almost ten minutes.
“Our company is drowning, and so is our power in the community. If we need to keep this luxury, we need someone with a lot of power to join us, and help us out of this ditch. The Lee family is the only ones that have reached out to us so far, and they’re quite more powerful than they seem. The Lee family has been in the family business for more than 50 years, passed down from their great grandfathers. Think about it, cupcake. We need this right now. I hate having you married at this age, I really don't want to see my daughter live in a house with a man she doesn’t love. But we don’t have much of a choice. We’re running out of options. I don’t want to see you leave this house, really,” when you look at him, his eyes are glossy.
“I know you’re a good kid, and that you’ve started a company of your own, but I promise you, I won’t let any of the Lee’s stand in your way of running your business. You’re my intelligent daughter, I know you’ll make a good decision.” he finishes, wiping his tears with a smile. Your dad stares at you for a second or two, and then places a soft warm kiss on your forehead before getting up with a little difficulty, and leaving through the door.
You think. Your worries were about your career, your husband or his family stopping you from working. You’ve heard plenty of those cases before, your company is so important to you.
But your family business was struggling, you’d overheard a few conversations to know how bad. You want to fall in love, get married, and maybe, if your situations allow it, have a child or two. But are you ready to sacrifice your love life to save your family business?
You’re not sure.
After a bath and three cups of coffee, you might finally have your answer. You walk downstairs and try to find your mother in this enormous house, looking around and calling for her. It’d be a shame if this house would have to go.
“Mom,” you call from the counter of the open kitchen, and your mom turns around. For the first time in a few nights, you notice how tired she really looks.
“Yes?”
“I’ll agree to the marriage.” you mumble out. You said what you said and now you can’t go back on your word, so you wonder what you’ve thrown yourself into.
“You’ll- you’ll agree to the marriage with the Lee’s?” your mom’s eyes are wide.
“Yeah,” you mumble and your mother wraps you in a tight hug, her eyes grow glossy.
“You understand how big of a sacrifice this is? You’ve just saved your whole family business, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you,” she kisses your forehead, and you smile.
“It’s for you guys, and Jungwoo. He’ll be the one taking the company next, it’ll be hard for him to manage the company when it’s treasury is empty.” you hug back your mother, kissing her cheek. You’ve always been close with your mother, but your personalities clash often and you guys argue over small things. Nevertheless, she’s your mother.
You hope everything will turn out fine, although you’re a little worried about the stranger you’re going to marry. ——————————————————————————————
You groan as you stare at the dress your mom has sent you. Your dad has planned a dinner with the Lee family, and you’re expecting to see the man you’re going to marry. You’re nervous, and somewhat excited to see what kind of a person you’ll be marrying.
The dress is so revealing, and you can see a little bit of your cleavage. The back was sewn with some strings, ending in a bow right above your ass. The dress was classy, but revealing. You were going to a dinner, not a fucking club.
A note had been delivered with it, written by your mother.
Wear the dress at all costs, love you -mom
You read it out, a sigh following. Your make-up artist and hairdresser will be here in a few, you need to get dressed by then.
You pull on the dress and stare at yourself in the full mirror, surprised. You look smoking hot, and with your hair and makeup done, you’re sure you’d look mindblowing. Maybe your mom had a point.
Your hairdresser and makeup artist do their magic, and by the time you’re down the stairs, you look absolutely gorgeous.
“You look damn good,” Jungwoo compliments and you smile cheekily, replying with a finger gun.
“Wow, you really look like a princess now. You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” your dad compliments, holding out his arm.
“May I lead you, my princess?” you giggle before you hook your hands with his, walking with him. You might be grown and promised to a man, but you’re still your dad’s little princess. ——————————————————————————————
You’re nervous as you step out of the car, your stomach doing cartwheels. You hope he’s at least good looking.
You breathe out one last time before striding in confidently behind your family into the restaurant. You’ve been here so many times before, the private suite here is booked for the meeting and you’re sure of it. Although it is a 7 star michelin restaurant, you’ve always come here growing up, so it doesn’t really make it special anymore.
“Are they already here?” you whisper to your mother, who nods. All that question does is add to your anxiety.
“Hello, Mr. Lee.” your father greets the man, and the man greets him back. He’s old, but you’re 100% sure he looked like a Greek god when he was young. Mr. Lee leads you through a set of doors, and to a certain door at the end of the hallway. He twists the door knob open and smiles, settling on the chair.
You can see a woman, and two sophisticated men already settled on the table. You assume one of the boys is his brother, and the moment your eyes fall on one of the boys, you’re bewitched. His face is perfect, and he has the prettiest eyes and lips you’ve seen. He’s capable of attracting attention just with his looks, because the navy blue suit he had dressed in was mind blowing.
He tilts his head towards you out of respect, and you return the gesture. He’s gorgeous.
“Hi Donghyuck, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” your father stretches a hand, and the boy takes it with a small smile.
“It has been, Mr. Seo,” he replies casually.
So Lee Donghyuck is his name.
Donghyuck on the other hand, was mesmerised by you. You looked absolutely stunning in his eyes, he couldn’t help but stare. Your features were so perfect in his eyes, your dress freely flowed behind you. Your lips look so pink and soft and pretty, he finds it a feature he’s the most attracted to. Only when Mr. Seo spoke did he finally look away from you.
“It’s nice to meet again after a long time, Mr. Seo,”
“Likewise, Mr. Lee,”
You can’t bring yourself to focus on the conversation your parents were having when such a beautiful, totally-your-type guy was sitting before you. Him, however, seemed focused on the conversation, stealing little glances throughout the dinner.
“When will we be deciding the wedding dates?” your mother asks, and Donghyuck seems to suck in a sharp breath.
He probably hates getting married to me. With a face like that, I must not be that attractive to him.
Your heart sinks a little at your thoughts, and you lose focus at any and all conversation. You look down at your plate and poke at your food, occasionally placing some bits into your mouth.
“Y/n? Y/n, do you agree?” you look up, confused. All eight of the people in the room are staring at you, and you feel your cheeks heat up in an unrealistic colour of red. You hope it doesn't show through your makeup.
You just stare at them, hoping someone repeats. Your mother smiles with frustration, repeating the question.
“Do you agree with the wedding date being the 29th of next month?”
Your mind goes through your schedule, and you don’t find anything scheduled for that day.
“Yes, o-ofcourse. I find myself free on that day,” you smile, and the family seems to return to the conversation they were holding.
You glance at Donghyuck and a smile slips onto his face before he hides it with the poker face he wore all dinner.
“I think we should let the kids talk, what do you think?” Donghyuck’s father speaks, and you both lift your head at the same time, staring at him. What the hell were you going to talk about? This was your first time seeing him.
But everyone seems to collectively agree that this was a good idea. Mr. Lee shoots Donghyuck a look, and it looks like the boy mentally groans before getting up, and smiling sweetly at you, waiting for you to get up. You do get up, and he takes your hand softly in his before leading you out of the door into a balcony that was located right next to the room you were in.
The view is beautiful, just as gorgeous as the man beside you.
“I’m Lee Donghyuck, and you are?”
“Seo Y/n. Did you agree to all this?” you ask first. You’re curious about the man, but that can wait.
“Yeah, sort of. I had to, I'm the heir to dad’s company.” he replies, a sigh slips out of his pretty lips. It comes out as a cloud of ice due to the cold atmosphere.
“I have my own company, a clothing line. It was introduced on the Paris runway,” you say, and he nods, eyes fixed in the distance.
“I’m familiar, Aphelion, am I right?” He surprises you with his knowledge. He probably did his research on you.
You stare at him with curious eyes, a smile lingering on your face. He looks at you, and then he laughs, shaking his head. You have to admit it, he’s got the smoothest voice, and the prettiest laugh.
“No, no, I didn’t do research on you. I-I was personally there, in Paris. I have to say, they did catch my eyes.” he nods, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.
It was freezing, goddammit.
You shiver a little because of the weather, and he seems to notice it. He contemplates something for a second, and then takes off his jacket. He puts it over your bare shoulders, covering your shoulders.
“Oh- you didn’t have to, I’m not-” you start mumbling but he cuts you off.
“Don’t lie, I saw you shiver,” he says. His eyes seemed like it never fell on you. He hasn’t made proper eye contact from the moment you stepped into the balcony, not even when he handed you his jacket. He looks quiet, peaceful as he stares at the bustling city below him.
He wouldn’t look at me because he isn’t attracted to me. He hates the sight of me, he gave me his jacket because he was polite enough to take care of a woman.
Your heart sunk again. Sometimes, you wish you could just be confident with yourself. You wish you didn’t overthink this much. You wish you could be confident with who you are, and what you look like. You wish you could be a little bit taller, a little thinner, a little more defined. You hate your thoughts so much.
You look at Donghyuck, and stare at him. He’s perfect, he has no job dealing with someone like you.
He looks at you, and you look away, too emotional to stare at him.
“What do I call you, Ms. Seo?” he asks, and you look up at him.
“Uh, you can call me Y/n,” you reply, clearing your throat. He stares for a little with narrowed eyes, and looks away.
“What do I call you, Mr. Lee?”
“You can call me Donghyuck, Hyuck, or Haechan.” he replies casually.
He has such a pretty name.
“Ah, okay. Why Haechan?” you inquire, curious about the cute nickname.
“Well, 해 (Hae) means “Sun” and 찬 (Chan) means “Full”,” he says. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are cheeky red, making him seem so much more admirable.
“Full Sun?” you ask, smiling.
“Hmm, dad gave it to me when I was five,” he smiles softly, and then it disappears.
You think that’s interesting, because you can’t see a trace of the said Sun anywhere. He looks cold and gentle to you, you’re not sure where that came from.
You hum in response, lost in your thoughts.
“Do you want to live married?” he asks, and it catches you off guard. That’s the first real question besides your name he’s asked.
“I could live married, but if that gets in the way of my profession, no, I don’t want to. I value my company more than whatever this is—” you make a gesture between you two “—I’m doing this for my family. I love my family too much to save myself only while all of us drown. My dad asked me for my consent with tears in his eyes, that was the first time I’d seen him cry in years. A little sacrifice wouldn’t hurt.” you swallow hard after you answer, and you look at Haechan. He looks hurt for a moment by the answer before he puts on a serious expression, humming to your answer.
Did you see that right? You’re probably just losing it from having just a glass of champagne. Your alcohol tolerance is shit.
“Me either. I was forced into it, at least your dad asked for consent,” he chuckles bitterly. You feel bad for a second, so you think how you can make this agreement free for him and you.
And you come up with a terrible idea.
“What do you say we live separate lives?” you blurt out, thinking. Your brain was working at high speed.
A confused sound emits from Haechan.
“What do you say we live separate lives, like we never got married. We could pretend we’re roommates, and when our parents are over, we could pretend to be in-love.” you suggest.
You said this with complete knowledge that it was a terrible idea, and you know you’re going to regret this later.
Haechan’s interest piques greatly, thinking of the deal over and over in his head. It doesn’t sound bad to him, maybe it could work out.
Maybe you’ll be a new friend too.
“Okay.”
You turn to look at him with a bright smile.
“Deal?” you stretch your hand, and he takes it, a cheeky lingering smile on his lips.
“Deal.” ——————————————————————————————
“Did you have fun?” Mr. Lee asks as you two walk into the room, Haechan’s jacket back on him. You’d returned it on the way, thanking him for risking the cold to give you the jacket. He’d brushed it off with a smile, which still lingered on his lips.
“Looks like you had fun,” your dad comments, and you feel your brother’s crazy stare on you. He’s smiling at you weirdly, like you and Haechan fucked on the first meet.
You only glare at him since all eyes are on you and Haechan, and you swear to yourself that once you reach home, you’ll kick the life out of him.
“The wedding date is on the 29th of next month, make sure both of your schedules are clear by then, we’ll plan the rest out as it goes, don’t stress yourselves too much with it, yeah?” Mr. Lee gets up, and the rest of the family does too.
You’ve learned all their names, but you decided you’d address his parents as Mr and Mrs. Lee. His brother’s name is Lee Minhyung, and he’s a little hyper active, you can see it. He’s just as handsome as Haechan though, and they look like best friends more than brothers. Although his name is Minhyung, Haechan said he likes to be addressed as Mark more. Haechan looks more like his father, with his jaw shape and nose and somewhere by the forehead, and Mark looks more like his mother with the big doe eyes and the smile. Either way, you’ve met everyone and you want to go home too; you’re glad they got up first.
“We should get going by now, it’s getting late. Thank you so much for sitting down with us,” he says.
“No, no, I should thank you for sitting down with us. I hope we’ll get together well in the future, I’ll see you soon,” your father stands up and shakes Mr. Lee’s hand, and you see Haechan shoot you one last smile before he leaves through the door.
It’s the kind of smile that leaves you flustered, the kind of smile that makes you want to stare at him, the kind of smile that makes you want to be the reason for it.
God forsaken, you had done what you had, you can’t have feelings for him. ——————————————————————————————
|Hc Hey
You stare at the text Haechan had left you. You were in the car with your brother next to you, mom and dad in front talking about something.
|Y/n Heyy
|Hc Think dad and mom r gnna hire wedding planners
Wedding planners seem like a much easier option. Maybe you’ll get the wedding you’ve always wanted.
|Y/n It sounds easier planning like tht
|Hc Hmm whats ur dream wedding?
You really think. What’s your dream wedding? Maybe a simple wedding, nothing too grand.
|Y/n Uh nothing too grand tbh. a simple wedding would do
Haechan stared at the message, surprised. You looked like you’d want everything to be grand, he didn’t expect your answer to be so down to earth.
|Hc Thats nice. i havent rly thought of it Although i did want to get married with someone i’m familiar with. May b we can be frnds
That sentence makes you smile. “What’re you smiling at?” your brother asks, staring at you with a curious smile. When you don’t answer, he attempts to peek into your phone.
“Don’t frikin do that again, asshole,” you push his face away, hiding your phone.
“Ouch, fuck, where did that much grip come from?” He rubs his forehead. You stick your tongue out, rolling your eyes. How much ever you love your brother, he’ll always be a pain in the asshole.
“You’re texting Donghyuck, aren’t you?” he asks, surprised.
“Yeah, what about it?” you ask, typing back a reply.
|y/n Maybe, id like that :)
“Maybe you should leave some things to talk about after marriage, you know?” Jungwoo comments, smiling. You shoot him a dirty look, punching his arm.
“Mom, she keeps punching me,” he whines, and your mom turns around to glare at you.
“I didn’t even do anything,” you justify yourself, scoffing.
Jungwoo sticks his tongue out at you, and you have a strong urge to ruin his face that you have to hold back. You huff, looking back at the phone.
|Hc we’re almost there text ya later bye :]
You stared at the message with a big smile. That little smile at the end of the sentence, you found that absolutely adorable.
“Get out, we’re home,” your brother pokes you.
When would be the next time you’d get to see him? ——————————————————————————————
Well, the predicted next time was not far out. He’d called you out on a date, and you were genuinely surprised, to say the least.
“What?” you ask, sitting up in your office chair. The document you were reading is now forgotten, your mind processed his words.
“Let me take you on a date,” he repeats through the phone.
“Hyuck, stop fucking around, what’s the plan?” you ask, rolling your eyes.
“You’re fast. Dad wants us to go on a date in public for the paparazzis so they can take photos of us being lovey dovey and shit,” he says, biting his nails. A kind of disappointment bubbles up your throat, but you push it back down. You can’t have feelings for him, you’re friends.
“Fine, when?” you mumble.
“Are you upset?” he asks, and you could imagine his eyes gleaming mischievously.
“Why would I be upset? Theoretically, I should be, because I am your fiance. But then, we didn’t exactly fall in love and get married. This gives us the conclusion that I have absolutely no reason to be upset.” you know you’re not upset.
“You’re upset, okay, I get it. Stop overanalyzing shit when you’re upset, it’s a little too obvious.”
“I said I’m not upset,” you grumble.
“Fine, whatever you say. I’ll pick you up at 4 in the evening, clear your schedule.” he says before hanging up.
He’s so fucking annoying.
You check the time. It’s 2:17, you should probably head out. You pick up your coat, and call your driver, already heading out of the office. You clarify to your secretary and head right out, all the way to your apartment.
You’d gone for a visit at your home for a while, where you met Haechan. You even got to hang out a lot, so you got a lot closer. A lot like best friends.
The automated doors open into your apartment, and you greet the maid on the way to your room. You don’t know how you should dress.
So you call Hyuck.
“What?” he asks, groaning.
“How should I dress? Where are we going?” you ask, and it takes him a moment to answer.
“Dress simple, we’re going to a cafe,” he answers, and hangs up again. You groan. You don’t really have anything simple to wear. You do, but you’ve already worn them all before.
“Miss? Is everything okay?” you turn your head to look at the maid standing behind you, a worried expression on her face.
“Me and Hyuck are going on a cafe date, I have nothing to wear,” you frown, and the maid hums. She thinks for a second, and then steps forward. She wipes her hand on her uniform and picks out a cute coffee coloured sweater, a pair of white jeans, and points at a bag she’s too afraid to touch.
“No, no, I don’t mind. We’re all the same, just cause you work for me doesn’t make you non human,” you smile at her, urging her to get you that brown Hermes bag. She hesitates to touch it, and once she does, she smiles before carefully passing it to you.
God, who mistreats these ladies to the point they're afraid to touch bags.
Her name is Park Hyejin. She’s been with you from about a few years ago, and she’s always been around you. Your mom had her move from your house to your apartment with you because you were the most comfortable around her, and she figured you could use help in taking care of the apartment.
“I could’ve. But I’ve worn both of these before with different pairs,” you whine, staring at the outfit laid out onto the leather in the middle of your huge closet.
“Ma’am, I think you should be getting ready, it’s already past three,”
You’ve been staring at your closet for an hour now???
“Shit. I’ll just wear it,” you strip in front of her, pulling on your sweater. You’d taken a cold shower this morning, you’ll be fine, you didn’t have time anyway.
She’s seen everything, you don’t think she hasn't seen you naked at least once. You straighten out your beige sweater, sighing satisfyingly. You turn around to thank the girl, and she’s cherry tomato red, you realise. A smile eases onto your features.
“You’re blushing,” you tease, leaning back onto one of your closet doors.
“M-ma’am, do you want me to do your hair?” she asks, quietly. You giggle to yourself, nodding.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” you nod. She hurriedly leaves the room, and you giggle before pulling on your pants.
You’re done in about forty five minutes, and it’s already 4. Your phone rings as you sit down on your couch, waiting for Donghyuck to show up.
“Yeah?”
“You ready? I’m downstairs,” he says, his car parked right outside. If you looked, you’d probably see it.
“Coming,” you cut the call, grabbing your purse and waving to Hyun Joo before going out.
“Evening, my lady,” Haechan greets you, and something about him seems stunned the moment he sees you. He’s staring for a second, just a second, before he breaks from it and opens the door for you.
He’s driving and he’s unusually quiet, unlike the loud boy you know.
“Is something wrong?” you finally break the silence. He glances over, and smiles. Laughs, actually.
“No, not really.” he answers. He then thinks for a little bit more.
“When’s the dress fitting?”
“Not sure, on the 19th, I think,” you answer. He hums, thinking again. The rest of the ride is quiet, but you get to observe his outfit while you’re bored. He looks cute, a very nice brown sweater, and a pair of white jeans. You really like how he looks, it sort of matches your outfit. Maybe that’s why he was staring.
“You look really nice today,” he mumbles, and you don’t hear him.
“What?”
“I said you look like shit today,” he panics, answering quickly.
Fuck, he probably just blew his chance with you.
“Thanks Haechan, really helped me grow as a person,” you sneer, sulking.
“We’re here,”
He unbuckles his seat belt, and steps out of the car to open your door. He opens it for you, and you step out, thanking him. He’d picked a place near the glass to sit in, and you were happy he did.
The cafe is bustling, yet so calming. It’s the prettiest cafe you’ve been to, because everything about it feels and looks amazing. It’s so coffee-like, yet it seems like there’s something for everyone.
“Is everything okay? You’ve been really quiet today,” you ask him as he gets settled opposite to you. He sighs, shaking his head.
“It’s just the stress, nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart.” the last word strikes you, and you feel your cheeks heat up unintentionally.
“Wait did you just-?” he asks, breaking into a quiet fit of laughter.
“No, no I didn’t.” you bite your lips, embarrassed.
“Are you a coffee person?” you ask, desperately trying to change the subject so he would move on from that little thing. You know he’s going to tease your hours on end for it.. You always end up admiring him every time you’re together, although you’re not so sure why.
“Very much so,”
“Me too. I like brewed coffee a lot,” you smile, and he smiles back. His smile is so perfect, his lips look so perfect, and his nose looks so perfect. Everything about him is unreal, and you love the way he stares at you. His eyes are so chocolate brown and deep, always holding a kind of meaning when he looks at you.
“The half drunk dudes should be here by now.” Hyuck spares one glance out the window, and then he smiles at you. He takes your hand in his, and you’ve never been more confused.
“Act like you’re in love with me. They can note shit pretty quick, although they are half drunk most of them do work in dispatch.”
I’m already in love with you, why should I pretend?
You blink rapidly in a poor attempt to get rid of the stupid thought, trying to act. You smile warmly as he takes your hand and places his lips on the back of your hand, letting his lips stay.
“Why didn’t you pick up my call yesterday, you piece of shit?” you ask through the smile.
“You called me yesterday? Why?” he asks, and he doesn’t break character. He’s still looking at you like he’s so in love and that makes you want to break your character and run.
“I wanted to ask about the wedding planners, dumbass.”
“You could’ve texted me,”
“I have things to do.” He intertwines your fingers together and you notice how his hand is so warm. His hand is so big, and warm and perfect in yours. He seems to notice it too because he’s staring at it.
His hand tightens around yours, and his thumb unconsciously caresses your hand. It’s quiet between you two for a few minutes. It’s like the world has given you freedom for a few minutes, and you’re free to look at each other however you want. Touch each other however you want, and smile at each other however you want.
Your eyes trace his pretty deep brown eyes, his newly dyed black hair, his jaw. His skin is flawless, perfect, and you notice his pretty earning for the first time. Your eyes run along his lips, and you force yourself to look away before you do something stupid.
“Are they gone?” you ask, and Haechan sighs before he looks out, noticing nobody there. He’s quite good at finding cameras.
Please don’t be gone, let me hold onto her a little longer.
“Yeah,” he retreats his hand, and it hurts you a little bit. His hands were so warm, the weather was cold, you admit you were a little disappointed when his hands left yours.
“Would you like something to eat?” he asks. He’s got this strong urge to take your face into his hands and kiss you, kiss you till you both run out of breath.
Fuck, what was he thinking.
“Yeah sure,” you nod, smiling. Haechan knows he’s using every cell in his body to resist the urge to kiss you, although he finds it weird. He doesn’t like you, he swears he doesn’t, so what is this feeling?
The date goes by rather quiet, with both your minds confused and screaming, you didn’t think you had much to say.
“I’ll see you on dress fitting,” Haechan smiles. You think you might see why his dad named him Haechan, his smile is so bright and pretty.
“I’ll see you too,” although he does hesitate, he places a quick kiss on your cheek before he runs for his car. He’s too cute for you, your heart can’t take it.
But also, did he just kiss you?
“What was that?” you demand before he drives off.
“Keep it,” is all he shouts back. You blush furiously at the audacity of him to do this after you guys agreed to be friends and nothing more. Maybe you should’ve done that.
Haechan pulls into his car and drives off, his heart beating loudly into his chest. He knows he shouldn’t have done it, he knows it was so wrong. Maybe not that wrong, but after deciding to be friends, what he did was a shit move.
But if he didn’t do at least this much, he was going to combust from the sheer urge to kiss you. He closes his eyes briefly, collecting himself before heading back home, and maybe to get some work done. ——————————————————————————————
“Hello, you must be Ms. Seo. Your fiance has been waiting for you,” the lady says and that surprises you. Haechan had said he might not even show up to the fitting, but he did, and you were happy he did.
“Donghyuck, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you walk in, smiling brightly. The last few days of your life had been filled with him, by him. He’s sent you good morning texts, he’s helped you with a few company related issues, and he’s spent some good time with you, getting to know you.
These were the basics, because if you were going to live with him, it might as well be on acquainted terms.
“I didn’t have time to show up for my fitting, might as well get it done with you.” he stands up with a huge smile.
“Have you at least looked through and selected a few dresses?” you inquire, eyes fixed on all the dresses on the huge racks. You wanted a custom one made, but there’s no time for that is what your mom said.
“Yes, I have indeed. So uh, I did select a few, I’ve asked them to keep those pieces aside. You should go check them out,” he tilts his head towards the changing room. You nod, letting a sigh fall from your lips.
You were choosing your wedding dress, something you didn’t dare dream happen until you were fully settled.
The shit we do for our loved ones.
You fit into the first dress, second, and third dress. You’ve gone through five different dresses and they just weren’t for you. Frustrated, you call Haechan into the changing room.
“Yeah?” he peeks in, and his eyes run over your coresetted figure. Goddammit you look beautiful.
“I like the third dress, you saw it, but it just isn’t for me. I need something special.” you rant, staring into the mirror. Haechan looks away out of respect, and he sighs.
“See, the thing is…” he trails on, a little nervous.
“Yeah?” you turn around.
“The thing is, I might or might not have had a custom dress made for you…” he hesitates, chewing on his lips nervously.
“What?” your lips part in shock, and Haechan sighs. He looks hesitant. He steps inside the room and closes the door.
“Uh, a while ago, like a week or two ago, I thought about how we could make our wedding better for you, and I remembered you mentioning something about a custom dress. So uh, I took it up with my imagination and your style and came up with a dress. It just came in yesterday, if you want we can send it back,” Haechan mumbles out, and you’re surprised.
And touched. He wanted to make this perfect for you, better for you. Maybe it’s not that bad getting married to him.
“Would you like to try it on- or- you know what- I’m sorry, I’ll send it back–” Haechan shakes his head, wincing. Maybe he went overboard.
“No, no. Let me see the dress, let me try it on,” you mumble fast enough, and he looks stunned.
“You’ll try it on?” you nod in confirmation, and a huge smile makes its way to Haechan’s face. You’re happy to see that smile.
You try on your sixth dress of the day, and you have to say, you look beautiful. The sleeveless white ball gown-like dress looked absolutely gorgeous on you, you can’t help but bite back tears. Haechan designed this for you. It was just so beautiful.
Haechan sits on the couch in the middle of a huge room, waiting for you to show up. He’s mindlessly scrolling on his phone, through every other social media app, trying to get rid of his nervousness.
Would she like the dress? Would she send it back? She’d probably hate it. No, she hasn't tried it on yet, maybe she’ll like it.
A lady walks into the room and smiles at him, and something tells him to keep his phone away. So he does.
The curtains swing open, and you’re standing there in the middle, absolutely gorgeous in a pure white gown. He designed it for you, and he’s stunned and shocked at how good you look in it.
“I like it, I love it,” your hand smoothes over the satin top part, biting back a teared smile.
“It’s…it’s beautiful.” he mumbles, feeling his heart beat faster. His heart is thudding so loudly in it’s cage, and you’re the reason.
“You’re beautiful,” Haechan says, and he shuts his mouth quick enough.
“I-I mean, the d-dress is beautiful, you look beautiful in it,” he tries to correct it himself. Giggling quietly, you turn again to look in the mirror.
The dress is really perfect. It’s fluffy, it’s not too heavy, nor is it inconveniently big. It’s just right.
God, you want to cry. Haechan had this made for you because he wanted the wedding to be more than just an agreement for you.
He can’t take his eyes off you, you look so pure and pretty and gorgeous in that dress.
“I want this,” you smile, tears blurring your vision. Haechan’s face brightens up almost immediately, and he does this little hand signal that you don’t slip past.
Goddamn, he couldn’t wait for the wedding. ——————————————————————————————
Haechan was practically shaking in the suit. He was standing on the podium, waiting for you to come out. He’s never been this nervous in his entire life; hell, he’s a damn business man.
“She’ll come out any minute now,” someone whispers, and his heart is now beating harder.
Fucking hell, just get this over with.
The light shines on you, and he audibly gasps. You look so, so, so beautiful, so stunning, holding your father’s hand. There’s a pretty white flower crown at the top of your head.
Everything about you is so pretty, so pure.
“Take care of my daughter,” your father gives him your hand, and he takes it delicately.
“Yes, father. I promise to take care of her through everything,” Haechan smiles, and he looks at you. He’s afraid he’s going to forget the whole world if he looks for too long.
You walk up and stand on the podium in front of him, hand in hand with him. Has his hands always been so warm?
The vows go by so fast, with just each other in their eyes, nothing else really matters. Haechan looks gorgeous, better than the man in your dreams. He was tucked perfectly in a black tux, his waist coat extenuating his figure.
“You may now kiss the bride,” is all you hear from the pastor. You stare at Haechan, blinking rapidly, and he stares back in the same.
“You may now kiss the bride.” the pastor repeats, louder. Haechan gets startled a bit, and then he starts leaning forward.
He’s kissed a lot of people before, why was he so nervous with you?
His lips capture yours in a soft kiss, and he swears he almost passed out. Why were you so soft and delicate?
He’s experienced, you can tell. You automatically lean in a bit, and his lips are soft, so soft you could get lost in them.
You pull away after a second or two, and you’re both a blushing mess. Haechan’s cheeks are burning hot, and you think about how the heat on your cheeks could probably show through the makeup.
The crowd claps and you both smile, walking down the aisle. Your hand is in his as you cling to him, walking by his side.
“God, this is so nerve-wrecking,” Haechan mumbles, and you almost laugh on camera. Your hand squeezes softly on his bicep in agreement, and he smiles a little wider.
“I can’t wait to go home.” you sigh. ——————————————————————————————
“Thank you so much for the generous gifts, Mrs. Kim. We appreciate it, really,” you smile at the middle aged lady, who smiles back graciously.
“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown, I still remember you playing in our garden with Jungwoo like it was yesterday.” she looks over you so emotionally. You giggle a little, nodding.
“I hope I can see little versions of you running around in the same garden someday,” she smiles, and your eyes widen. Haechan, who’s standing beside you, laughs a little at your reaction. His hand wraps around your waist and he pulls you in, smiling.
“Sure, expect it soon, Mrs. Kim,” he bows and the lady laughs a little, saying her goodbyes before leaving.
“What the hell was that?” you punch Haechan in the arm, a little pissed. He winces as he rubs his arm, laughing.
“What?”
“I don’t want kids, not until I’m ready.” you say.
“Nobody’s forcing you, you don’t have to think about it until you’re ready. I don’t want kids until you want them either,” he rubs your shoulder calmingly, and you sigh.
“I just got worked up, this wedding’s been stressing me out, I’m sorry,” you mumble, leaning back onto his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it. Also, didn’t we agree to keep it to just friends? You don’t have to worry, I won’t pull anything,” Haechan chuckles, wrapping his arm around you.
Unless you want me to.
“Can we go home? I’m tired,” you pout, and it takes all of Haechan’s self control to not kiss your little pout.
“Sit down, I’ll go talk to mother,” he helps you sit down on a chair, smiles at you. He makes sure you’re comfortable before telling you he’s going to go find your mothers.
You observe your own wedding party. There’s nothing too big, but what you see is well done. It’s perfect, and you’re glad they called in wedding planners to execute this.
“Y/n!” you hear a voice. You turn your head and find someone you thought you’d never see again.
“Taeyong!” you exclaim, standing up and opening your arms. He scoops you into his arms, lifting you off the ground a little.
“I haven’t seen you in such a long time,” you squeeze his arms, smiling.
“God, tell me about it. I was so surprised when I heard you were getting married.” he says, giggling. His laugh always had a nice ring to it.
Lee Taeyong was your highschool bestfriend, and your ex boyfriend. You had dated for about five to six months before he broke it off for the reason of losing feelings. But then, when he saw you still had feelings, he came back, and you dated for another month before you broke it off. The relationship zig zagged another time before you both decided it was the best to call it off and just remain as best friends.
You confessed to him, and he had said he liked you back. He was your first kiss, your first love, your first everything.
First everything except sex. You weren’t ready back then, and you never really got to the part where your virginity gets taken, so you’re still a virgin. As shitty as that is.
“You look beautiful,” he compliments, and you blush softly. He still has that effect on you.
“Well, you don’t look bad yourself, how are you?” you ask as you sit back down, your heels hurting the back on your feet. You’ve walked quite a bit today.
“Moved back here. New York got a little boring without you,” he smiles, and you laugh.
“You moved here? Why?”
“I’m starting a new branch of my law firm here, one of the big reasons I moved back,” you nod, and you see Haechan running to you from the corner of your eyes.
“Hyung, I didn’t think I’d see you here,” Haechan gives him a bro hug. They know each other?
“Wait, you two know each other?” you’re confused.
“He’s my first cousin,” Haechan says, his arm hanging around Taeyong’s shoulder.
Cousins?????
“First cousin? I had no idea,” you laugh, surprised.
“Let me ask, how do you guys know each other?” Haechan looks between you and Taeyong. He removes his arm from around his shoulder, and moves closer to stand tall next to you.
Taeyong sighs, and you’re just a little nervous.
“We- we were high school best friends.” you answer, signalling Taeyong to shut up with your eyes. Haechan nods, a little suspicious.
“That’s it?” he asks tentatively.
“Y-yeah pretty much.” you force a smile, and Taeyong nods awkwardly. It’s just a moment of really thick awkward silence that anyone would be able to sense from a mile away.
“I- I have to get back to my mother, do you mind if I–” he motions back to his mother, who’s not even looking at him.
“Yeah, no, we were about to leave anyway. It’s almost all winded up, we’ll leave,” you say, urging him on. He leaves and you look back at Haechan, who looks a little pissed.
“Let’s go.” Haechan holds onto your waist protectively, dragging you away from the spot into his car.
He gets you into your car and makes sure your dress sits well before getting in the car himself. He leans his head back onto the seat, his hips pushed up and his tongue poking his cheeks.
He looks unrealistically hot.
“What was that?” he asks, and you stare at him.
“W-what?”
“You and Taeyong, what was that? Is there anything you aren’t telling me?” he looks at you, and his voice is gentle, unlike a few moments ago.
You sigh, biting your inner cheeks before speaking.
“We- we dated, for about a few months. It went on and off for a year before we finally called it off and decided to just be best friends,” you spoke, afraid to look at him.
“You didn’t have to hide that from me. I’m okay with it. We’re going to be living different lives anyway, so might as well tell me your dating history,” he smiles, a weird feeling boiling in him. He was relieved that it was nothing more, but on the other hand, a not so good feeling bubbled in his heart.
I could just rip Taeyong apart.
No, no no no no. What was he thinking? ——————————————————————————————
“Is it bad that I never really took the initiative of visiting our house?” you look out through the car window, fascinated. You were so wrapped up in the work of your company and the wedding preparations, you forgot to visit the house you’d be moving into after the wedding.
“Uh, the thing is, I haven’t visited either, so I don’t know what to expect. Although, dad did say he moved enough of our things here.” he says, turning the engine off. He pulls the key out of the car, and he gets out to help you out.
“I swear to god, the first thing I’m doing is throwing this dress off,” you grumble and Haechan laughs a little.
He puts in the password and the door opens, revealing the most beautiful, yet the most simplest and minimalistic house you’ve ever seen. It’s gorgeous, just beautiful.
“Wow,” Haechan’s the first one to speak.
“I’m actually going to go change out, I’m super uncomfortable,” you mumble, and Haechan nods, helping you find the master bedroom. You do find it, and it’s fucking huge. Bigger than your bedroom ever was growing up.
You see the two suitcases sitting in the corner, and you immediately identify one as yours.
“Found mine,” you smile.
“I’ll move into another room, you can stay here,” Haechan takes his suitcase, but you’re not sure you want such a big room all to yourself.
“No, no, I’ll move, you stay here,” you say, and Haechan stares at you.
“No, I’m moving,”
“No, no, I don’t want such a big room all to myself,” you say, but Haechan’s already out the door.
“I’m just a room over, don’t fret over it,” he says, and his voice echoes in the living room.
You sigh, thinking how stubborn he really was. He wouldn’t even give you a chance to argue about it.
You try to get out of your dress, but find it almost impossible. Goddamit, do they really have to secure the zipper like that?
The only person in the house who could help you was Haechan, who was a room away. You groan, opening your door and making your way over to his room.
“Hyuck,” you open the door, and it startles him. Dammit, you forgot to knock. Next time.
You lift your eyes and you find him in the middle of the room with no shirt on, staring back at you with a t-shirt in his hands.
“You seem to like staring,” he switches the t-shirt from one hand to the next, and you realise you were staring.
“No, no I don’t,” you turn around, your hand still on the door knob. You blush deeply, and your heart rate raises as the image of his body gets imprinted in your mind. God, he looked so good.
“I’m done, what’d you need?” he asks you with a shitty grin, and you turn around to face him.
“Can’t get the damn zipper open, for fucks sake.” you mumble, and you notice how he’s staring intently at your face. You assume he’s staring at your heated up face.
“I’ll help you out of it, do you want me to turn up the air con?” you look up to glare at him, and he just laughs. He’s so annoying yet so attractive and loveable.
“Just shut up and help me out of it,” you turn your back to him, and he giggles before coming closer.
You feel him push off a pin or two, and then he slides down the zipper. Slowly, so slowly, he slides it down. Your breath hitches and something pools in the pit of your stomach as his fingers brush your bare back, your fingers squeezing into a fist.
He sighs shakily as he stares at your back, just how smooth and soft it looks. He wants to run his hand over your back, tell you how pretty you are as he presses his lips against yours.
What? God, no. I don’t have feelings, it’s just sexual attraction, happens to the most of us.
Haechan rips his hands away from you, and you make a run for it, thanking him. You’re so embarrassed and worked up, you can’t understand what you’re feeling right now. ——————————————————————————————
“Good morning,” Haechan greets you as you walk out of your room in pyjamas, sleep drunk.
Haechan’s on the couch, a bowl of ramen in his hands. What time is it?
“Morning,” you greet, and Haechan’s heart weirdly flutters. “What time is it?” you ask.
“It’s past 12. Looks like you slept well,” he comments, staring at your hair. You try to tame your wild hair with a laugh, joining him on the couch.
“Seen my phone?” you ask, and he hands it to you. “Someone brought it in today, you left it at the reception, dummy,” he smiles, and you wince at your stupidity.
“I remember leaving it on the counter and never taking it. Thank you,” you opened your phone with your fingerprint, leaning back onto the couch. You see so many calls, it worries you for a second before you realise all of it was your mom. You call back, putting the phone on speaker as you close your eyes, trying to come to your senses.
“Are you finally awake from the dead?” your mom asks, and Haechan chokes on his ramen. He laughs quietly, enjoying your annoyance.
“A hello would have been nice. Donghyuck heard that, you know,” you say and she laughs.
“He’s going to live with you, might as well. Poor kid,” she pities and Haechan can’t stop laughing. You punch his arm, and he winces, still laughing.
“Anyway, are you twp at home?” she asks, you can hear jungwoo shouting on his playstation on the other side. Your mom screams for him to quiet down, and he does. Haechan and you get a giggle out of it.
“Yeah, dad asked us to take off from the company for a few days,” you answer.
“Well great, cause we’ll be over in 30. See you then, miss you sweetheart,” your mom hangs up. You sit there on the couch, alarmed, and Haechan pauses mid bite.
“Did she say thirty minutes?” Haechan spits out his ramen.
“Get up, we need to move your things into my room, we need to put on something more decent, and you need to wash the dishes,” you sound extremely alarmed, getting up and running for your room.
“Where- where do I put the suitcase?”
“Just leave it open in the room, make it seem natural,” you yell from the bathroom, washing your face aggressively. You slip on a pretty yellow dress and let down your hair in a hurry, brushing it out.
You run out of the bathroom, asking Haechan to go change and telling him that you’ll do the rest of the dishes. You’re putting away the last plate as Haechan rushes out the door with the sound of the door bell.
“You open it,” you urge him towards the door. He groans, but he opens the door with the biggest smile.
“Mom, mother, hi,” Haechan greets them, giving them both a hug.
“Mom!” you exclaim, running into her arms. She laughs as she hugs you, her arms so warm. You’d only seen her yesterday, but you missed her.
“Hi mother,” you greet her with a gentle hug, completely unlike the one you gave your mom.
“How are you guys getting along?” they ask as they sit down on the couch. You and Haechan smile, and Haechan links his hands with yours, squeezing gently.
“It’s great, mom. I couldn’t ask for someone better,” Haechan makes eye contact with you, and you really see sincere love in there. So instead of hiding your little infatuation, you unwrap it too.
“He’s perfect,” you say, smiling. Haechan’s mother and yours look pleased as you share the longest eye contact since engagement.
“So, are you guys sharing a room or something?” Your mom’s question breaks both of you out of your trance.
Haechan stares at your mom, blank.
“Uh, y-yeah, but, uh, we- we haven’t exactly got to the other part yet,” you answer, knowing exactly what your mother was asking. She was implementing if you had consummated the marriage yet, and in truth, you aren’t even really together.
“Oh, I see. Can we see your room?” you and Haechan share certain looks, and then nod. You lead them to your room, Haechan following behind.
You open the door, praying that everything looks fine. Everything does look fine, but you notice a bra at the corner of the room that you forgot to hide. Fuck.
“We- we haven’t cleaned up,” you laugh nervously, and your mothers nod, walking out the room. Your mother pulls you aside and whispers, “maybe hide the evidence before lying to me,” with a smile.
“Huh?” Then it clicks, she saw the bra. Goddammit. You decide you’d just play along.
“We just stopped by, we have to leave soon.” his mother says, and you nod, smiling.
“You know what, we’ll leave now. Thank you for letting us in,” your mother drags his mother outside. You both wave bye happily, glad to be finally out of their eyes.
“Mom saw my bra and thought we had sex,” you say, sighing exasperated. He sighs, finally letting all the stress out.
“This was a mess. Do you just wanna watch netflix and chill?” Haechan speaks, throwing himself onto the couch.
“Yeah,”
You got nothing done that day, but you finished the show Locke and Key. oh well. ——————————————————————————————
You had to go back to work the following week, but right now, you were sprawled out on the couch, Haechan sitting by your feet. You’re watching Brooklyn nine-nine, laughing as Jake Peralta cracks another stupid joke, Haechan’s little laugh echoing.
You’re tired after a long day, and you’re actively looking forward to the weekend like Haechan. It’s past 11, and almost 12. You can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow.
You’re positive you look like shit, and Haechan looked just fine, although a little messy. He looked adorable, his hair messy from bed, a hoodie pulled over his head.
Your phone rings and you groan, staring at it sitting on the single couch opposite from you. Who’s calling this late?
Haechan laughs as he hears you, and reaches out to pick your phone up. He glances at the screen and frowns, handing it to you.
“It’s your secretary.” he says, pausing the show.
“Sorry, I’ll just take this,” you say, and you press the phone to your ear.
“Hello, this-”
“Madame, we have an emergency,” your secretary gasps, shuffling sounds of paper on the other side. You sit up, worried.
“Yes?”
“Our designs have been stolen by the Na’s. They just published their teaser with our designs on it, they’ve stolen our designs,”
“What? I’m on my way, call an emergency meeting with the marketing, the design team, and the legal department,” you almost jump off your couch, heading for your room.
“What happened?” Haechan gets up and follows you, and you spare him a glance. He looks worried.
“The Na’s stole our design. I swear to god, I’ll murder Jaemin with my own hands someday,” you growl, anger consuming your headspace.
“I’m close with Jaemin,” Haechan blurts and you stop in your tracks of picking an outfit.
“Why didn’t I see him at our wedding?”
“He didn’t attend. Said he had documents to process, or something,” Haechan recalls that phone call with his friend.
“He was at the fucking company while I was busy,” you mumble, quickly pulling on a shirt and jeans to rush out of the house.
“Should I come?” he asks, unsure of letting you drive out in the night when it’s this late.
“No, I’ll be fine,” you rush out, but then turn around.
“You don’t mind me sueing that piece of garbage, do you?” you ask, to which Haechan shrugs.
“I knew he was a bad influence, so no, not really. Although, I suggest you should rush there,” he says, and you nod, almost closing the door when you hear Haechan call your name again.
“Y/n! Your keys, you forgot them,” he says, and tosses them into the air for you to catch. You catch them, and wave a quick bye to Haechan who then stands in the middle of the room, frowning.
Fuck you, Jaemin. We were actually spending some time together.
Haechan looks up, his middle finger raised as he stomps back to the T.V, hoping some episodes of Brooklyn nine-nine would cheer him up.
Man, you loved Charles, now he can’t watch it without thinking of you. ——————————————————————————————
After a five hour discussion, you had given everyone a break, and took one for yourself. It was currently somewhere around four in the morning, and you were thinking of calling Haechan. But you’d probably disturb him by it, so maybe you can call after an hour or two.
You go back into the meeting room, and sort some things out. You give everyone the permission to go home and have some rest, and return by four in the evening, cause no company works their employees overnight. God, you felt bad for all of them. Most of them were in their pyjamas.
You’d decided to sue the Na’s, and cancel the coming runway because you really had no other designs that you put your time and work and life into. You’d had so many different things planned for this launch, and all that hard work and pain was in vain.
You are slouched over your table almost in tears when Haechan calls, and you check the time.
8:58 AM, saturday
You pick up the call and stay silent, trying not to cry.
“How did everything go? Are you okay- you know what, I’ll send someone to pick you up, stay right there, sweetheart,” he picks the clues up from your silence so easily, you can’t tell if you love him or hate him.
Thirty minutes pass, and now you’re at your front door, hands on the bell. You ring it, and within seconds, a worried Haechan appears at the door. He guides you in by your hands, and stares at your drained face.
You can’t look at him, because you’re afraid if you do, you’ll burst into tears.
“Are you okay? How is everything?” he asks, and you almost crumble into pieces. This has never happened to you before, you really thought you were emotionally strong.
“Can I get a hug?” is all you manage to say as you look up at him with watery eyes. His heart breaks at the sight and he softly engulfs you in a much needed hug, his hands wrapped around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and he holds you close, just right.
You break into a pool of tears in his grasp, and Haechan sucks in a tight breath when he hears your sobbing. He slowly lulls you into your room, and sits you on the messy bed. He doesn’t pull away, he just waits for you to let go. When you realise he might be uncomfortable, you let go and he pulls away gently, like he’s afraid of hurting you.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asks softly.
“No, stay please,” you whisper, patting the place next to you. He sits down, and you take a moment before you speak.
“I had so many things planned for this runway launch, and now it’s all Jaemin’s.” you sniffle, and he rubs your back softly.
“Tell me everything,”
“I’ve decided to sue him, and I’ll cancel this launch,” you mumble, your voice breaking.
“Cancel it? You know how big of a loss that would be?” he asks.
“I know, but what else do I do? That motherfucker has it all now,” tears fill your eyes again.
“Do you know who leaked it?” he asks. That one question opens a possibility that you didn’t have time to consider in the middle of all this madness.
“I didn’t have time to think about that,” you whisper, the gears in your head working.
“Leave it to me. I’ll send my lawyer to you, and we’ll handle this like professionals.” he smiles as he pats your back, and you see a glimpse of hope in his eyes. That makes you want to hope everything will turn out fine.
“Also, don’t cancel the show.” he says, and you turn to look at him.
“You still have two months. You have about two weeks to pull other designs. Can you make it work?”
“It’s not that easy to pull designs together, Haechan,” you protest, and he nods.
“I know, but I need you to try. Or, instead of launching clothes, we can launch something else. That could expand your boundaries.” he’s a good businessman. You try to think straight through all your tears, and the first option sounds a lot better. You’re not ready to expand your boundaries yet, there's still work to be done.
“I’ll try to pull together some designs,” you wipe your tears, and Haechan sighs happily. He sounds content with your answer.
“That’s the spirit. When there's a will–”
“There’s a way.” you finish, staring at him with a big smile. His face looks like he approves of it, and he pulls his phone out of his pants.
“I have to make a few calls,” he says, and you nod. He kneels down in front of you, holds your face, and looks you in the eyes. Your face burns red, his lips distracting you.
“You can do this, okay? I believe in you, and I’m proud of you. You’re doing really well, I know you are. You’re trying your best, and things don’t always go your way because this is life. When life throws lemons at you…” he urges you to continue.
“You make lemonade. What are you, a damn pinterest board?” you laugh, eyes teary. He laughs loudly and the sound is so pure, it makes your heart a little lighter.
“I’ve got to make a few calls, I’m right outside the door if you need anything, hmm?” his hands leave your cheeks, and you frown, feeling the warmth leave you. You wanted him to stay longer.
“Also, I’ve left your Ipad on the couch. It’s fully charged,” he shouts from the living, his voice distant. You smile a little. He's taking care of you so well, you don’t deserve him.
You’re going to try drawing something meanwhile, although you’re unsure of what. ——————————————————————————————
You designed a thing or two before sleep overtook you, and you took a break to have a nap. Haechan walks into the room to tell you how his lawyer is on her way to dig up dirt on Na Jaemin, but his heart stops when he finds you asleep. You look so cute, curled into a little ball on the bed, the blanket wrapped around you.
Haechan looks around the room, and he finds your Ipad left unlocked. He peeks onto the screen, and he audibly gasps.
You’d only done two designs, but they were gorgeous and eye-catching. He looks back at your small figure wrapped tightly in a blanket with a new realisation at how talented you are, and it shakes him.
He can’t deny, he is lucky to have you as his wife instead of the people his dad had considered, like Jia from the Kwon family. She was a good match, but she wasn’t as strong or independent as you are. He doesn’t think about anything when you’re around, and that makes him stress free. You’re his only escape from the cruel world.
He stares at you for a few seconds before turning off the bed lamp, tucking you in a little more with a smile. He’s hesitant, but he places a soft kiss on your cheekbone before getting up to leave, his heart serene in his chest.
He knows it’s wrong. It’s so wrong to even touch you with a different intention than friends. He’s convinced himself he doesn’t have feelings for you, so why does he keep wanting you? Why does he keep desiring you all for himself? Why does he feel the need to protect you from the cruel, cruel world and kiss you to sleep every night?
Maybe he’ll never know. ——————————————————————————————
“We’re not cancelling the runway. I’ll pull through with some designs since we have two more months, get all of our best designers on the job. I want a full briefing of at least twenty five designs by next friday.” you speak into the phone.
“What about the lawsuit against the Na’s?” you can hear her gulp.
“I’ve confirmed an appointment with the legal department, another lawyer will be joining the team.” your secretary hums, writing something down.
“I’ll call you later,” you cut the call, stretching yourself in the chair of your desk. You’ve just woken up from your three hour long nap, a little refreshed. Haechan brought you some coffee and some food, and you ate with him.
But you were currently experiencing a bad case of art block. Your head is pounding, and you’re frustrated. You want to scream and cry.
A knock sounds on the door, and Haechan peeks his head in.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks, his eyes skimming over your messy desk. “Bad. I have an art block, I can’t think,” you mumble.
“Do you want me to sit here?” he comes in through the door, closing it behind him.
“Yes please,”
He sits down on the spare chair in the room, watching you.
“Did you ask someone to investigate?” he asks, and you nod.
“I’ve reported it. They said it'll take a week or two to process,” you smack your head into your hands, feeling the tears build from frustration.
“Have you tried saying that it was a high profile case?”
“No,” you answer. He pulls his phone out and makes a quick call, and within a minute, he’s hung up.
“I’ve reduced it to a few days. They said they’ll start on the investigation right away,” you’re unbelievably thankful for Haechan, because if it wasn’t for him, you don’t know what you’d have done.
“Haechan, I- I just really can’t thank you enough for everything you do for me. I don’t know how to repay this,” your voice breaks slightly.
You’ve always been so careful about letting people know about your work because you don’t trust anyone. Your dad once said that in business, if one thing tips over, everything tips over. The scale loses its balance, and that’s what’s just happened to you. You’ve been so stable all this while and then suddenly the scale tips, you’re not sure what to do. If you had decided to cancel the project, you might have never recovered from the blow of it.
Thank god for Haechan.
“You don’t have to repay me. I do this as your husband. Husbands and wives help each other, don’t they?” he smiles, and your heart lightens a bit. God, he’s got the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.
“What even are we? We’re supposed to be husband and wife but we don’t love each other. I can’t say we’re best friends either cause we’re married. What is our relationship?” you don’t mean to say that. It’s probably all the stress that’s been growing on you since last night.
“You know…” Haechan begins, pulling his chair closer to you.
“Some relationships don’t need a label,” he says. You notice for the first time that day how deep his eyes are, and how pretty they are. He makes you want to paint him. He makes you want to make impulse decisions in life, because you feel like there’s someone that’ll protect you from those decisions.
You stare at each other, just admiring his eyes, his nose, his lips. His lips look so soft, so pink, so pretty. God, you could just kiss them.
Haechan begins to lean in softly, his heart thudding against his chest. You’re so pretty in the dim light like this, your lips look so soft to him.
The moment he starts leaning in, you’re stuck in panic. No, no no no no.
You panic and pull back, breathing heavily as you stare at Haechan. He pauses, and then he pulls back. He blushes in embarrassment, looking away.
“I-I’m sorry, I have to get back to work.” you turn around back to your ipad, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
“Yeah, no, it’s okay. I was just- I’m- I’m gonna go now, I’ve got some work,” Haechan gets up, but you hold onto his wrist.
“Please stay,” you mumble meekly. He stares at you for a minute longer before sighing loudly, sitting back down.
God, what was with you? You pull from him and then ask him to stay? What about his feelings?
“What do you want me to do?” Haechan asks. You turn your head and stare at him. You don’t know what you want him to do, his presence is just so comforting to be in.
“You know what, I’ll go get my laptop, I’ll work with you. I hope you don’t mind me making some work calls,” he says, and you smile in gratitude.
“No, of course not,” you say, a little embarrassed. Maybe you shouldn’t make him stay.
“You can… you know, leave if you want to,” you mumble, and Harchand gives you this stare. You chuckle a little, and that makes him laugh.
“Sorry, I’m just high on stress right now,” you say, and he’s kind enough to nod and smile.
Haechan does go and get his things, and settle down in the corner of your huge desk on your turning office chair. He types so fast, and you can’t help but wonder if his fingers work that fast too.
No, no no no no. Not right now. You’re just stressed.
“Hello?” Haechan leans back in his chair, one of his legs resting on top of the other.
Fuck, he looks so fucking hot and powerful. He could just fuck you that good.
He says something into the phone and he looks so in control and sounds so in charge, it sparks something inside you. You need to calm yourself down.
“Are you good?” Haechan is staring at how you’re staring at him. You shake off from your thoughts, and stare at him.
“Huh?”
“Are you good?” he repeats, and you nod.
“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I- I was just thinking.” you say, turning to your Ipad with a new intent. He really did give you an idea. ——————————————————————————————
You turn up at your office looking like you didn’t get any sleep and that was because you didn’t. Haechan slept on your bed, and you slept on your desk for about thirty minutes.
“Madame,” your secretary sighs as she sees you. You force a smile, nodding.
“You look rough. Would you like to take a few minutes to rest?” she asks, smiling gently.
“Could I? I don’t think-”
“I’ll tell everyone that you’re in a meeting, don’t worry,” she smiles, and she's out the door. You’re thankful for your secretary, you are. You lean your head back onto your chair, sighing. The day hasn’t even started and it’s already bad.
A minute or two later, just as you’re about to slip to sleep, your phone goes off. You groan and pick up, not bothering to look at the contact.
“Hello, this is Seo Y/n speaking,”
“Hello, Madame. Mr. Lee had called earlier today and asked to submit a report of the investigation to you,” goddammit, you were so close to falling for Haechan, why is he so nice to you.
“Oh, thank you. Can I ask how much progress there is?” you ask, sitting up straight.
“We have found the culprit, and got an arrest warrant for her. If you could please visit the station, we could arrange a meeting between you and her,”
Her? Your eyes shoot open in surprise, and you’re already grabbing your jacket.
“Yes, sure. Does Mr. Lee know about this?”
“Yes, he had informed us about five minutes ago that he was on his way.” Haechan was already on his way, you needed to be there too.
“I’ll be there in a few,” you cut the call, heading for the door. Your secretary looks surprised as she sees you with your keys.
“They found the culprit. I’ll be back in an hour or two.” you mumble quickly and she nods.
In a few minutes, you’re at the station. You see Haechan’s car parked outside as you rush in, expecting someone to greet you.
“Morning Madame, I assume you’re in a rush, she’s in the interrogation room.” a detective greets you. You smile and nod, eyes searching for Haechan around the room. When Haechan walks out of the interrogation room, you’re surprised.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” you lie. You’re not sure why you lied but you did.
“They called, so I just popped in to see what was going on. You should see her for yourself…” he sounds a little grim as he says that.
You step inside the room, and your eyes can’t believe what they’re seeing. Park Hyejin is on the chair, and she looks sour. What is your maid doing here?
“Hyejin?” you furrow your eyebrows, and you don’t fail to catch the way her eyes soften.
“Madame,” she whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. You can’t believe it. There’s no way. They must’ve gotten the wrong person.
You step right back out and stare at Haechan, who’s standing with a file in his hand.
“What’s Hyejin doing here?” you demand, and Haechan sighs before he hands you a file. You flip through the file in absolute disbelief as CCTV photos of Hyejin taking pictures of your designs on her phone are spread through the pages. The printed screenshots of her conversation with Jaemin, and how Jaemin paid her in big amounts to do this, the transaction records, and her purchase history are all given, and you can’t believe a thing.
“What…” you mumble, feeling yourself buckle.
“Are you okay?” Haechan asks quietly. You nod, still deep in shock.
“I’m just in shock. She was my friend.” you can’t describe what you’re feeling. You don’t know if you’re angry, you don’t know if you’re sad, or if you’re even surprised. It’s a mix of emotions, and they all feel shitty.
“Maybe you should head in there, talk to her,” Haechan urges you, tipping his head towards the interrogation room.
“Can you come with me?” you ask, your voice awfully quiet. You almost can’t recognise your own voice.
“Yeah,” he says in the most soothing way he can. His hand rests on the small of your back as he guides you into the interrogation room once again.
“Hyejin,” you try to sound tough as you sit down opposite to her. Haechan is sitting by your side, watching her. She looks at you with the softest look, and she turns her head to look at Haechan with much venom. It looks poisonous.
“Why did you do this?” you ask, and your voice shakes a little. You take a deep breath, and try to channel your quiet inner anger.
“Why did you do this?” this time, your voice sounds strong and vengeful. Betrayed.
“Madame I-” she stops herself as tears fill her eyes. She tucks her lips between her teeth in an attempt to stop herself from crying, but it doesn’t seem to work. You feel nothing for this girl, not anymore. She almost toppled all of your company for a reason she hasn’t told you yet, and you have every right to not feel anything.
“I asked a fucking question.” you spit, anger seething out of you. Haechan grips your wrist gently, and you seem to calm down a little. Much enough to not shout.
“I-I wa-” she stutters and you’re losing your patience. You know Haechan can sense it and even his grip isn’t doing anything for you.
“Spit it out,” your hand bangs down on the table, startling everyone who was in the room. Startling her so much to the point of spitting the truth out.
“I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU,” she says, and you stare. Did you hear that wrong? You probably did.
“What?”
“I said I was in love with you. I was so in love with you and I still am. I didn’t like it when I saw you getting married to him—” she glares at Haechan for a moment and he looks confused “I didn’t like it when I saw him leave a kiss on your cheek, I hated that so much.”
You’re so surprised that you almost choke. Are you really that pretty enough to pull the guys and the gays? You glance at Haechan, and he looks equally surprised, maybe more.
“I hated it when you had to get married and move away, and that I couldn’t come along. I couldn’t see you more often, and I hated that. I was so angry and sad, I contacted Jaemin. Got him in the first try. I waited till you had moved before safely taking pictures of your designs and sending them to him. I admit the crime. I deserve to rot in jail for doing this but—” she looks up at you, dried eyes filling up again.
“I really did love you. I want you to know that I made such a stupid descision because I loved you too much, and I’m sorry for doing this.” she finishes, and you need to take a few moments to process everything you’ve heard.
So to sum it up, your maid is in love with you, and because she’s mad, she sold you out to your rivals and then when she gets caught, she apologises.
Okay.
You breathe out, getting ready to speak.
“Unfortunately, I hope you know that I can’t reciprocate your love since I’m married. I have a husband who I—” you glance at Haechan with a smile “whom I love.”
You smile wide as you hold eye contact, and Haechan’s breath gets stuck in his throat. Was this you confessing? He wants to kiss you so bad, but there are cameras and eyes watching.
You catch her jaw flexing angrily and you can only smile wider.
“And yes, you do deserve to rot in jail, don’t think I’d go easy on you because you were in love with me and because I considered you my friend instead of a maid. How could you even–” you scoff, your anger barely containing itself.
“Anyway, I’m going to hope you get bail and file a case. You brought this upon yourself, too bad I can’t help you.” you stand from your seat, glaring at her down. You leave before you say something else, anything else that might make you overthink.
You rip the car door open and settle yourself in the passenger's seat, sighing. The car door opens again and Haechan settles into the driver's seat with a huge smile.
“Are you okay?” he tries to sound calm, but you can hear the excitement, or happiness seeping through.
“Yeah, what’s up with you?” you ask, although you know.
“Nothing really,” he mumbles.
“No, there’s something,” you tease, and he takes a deep breath before turning to you.
“Did you mean it?” he asks, and you almost pass out from the tension of the question.
“I- uh- I-I don’t know…I’m not sure why I said that, but I’m not sure about my feelings either.” you say quietly, and instead of frowning, Haechan sounds happy when he speaks.
What you said was true. Haechan had been too nice to you, and even if all this was a lie, you’d love for nothing more than to keep having him by your side.
“Oh, I panicked and thought you had no feelings for me whatsoever. Give me a month or two, and watch yourself fall for me,” he smiles so wide, he looks so gorgeous. The sun is so strong as it shines through the window on Haechan’s side, but it didn’t bother him. He pulls the gear and the car roars to life before it pulls out of the parking lot.
He sounded confident. And you loved it. Hell, you’d love nothing more than to keep seeing him happy.
Maybe I’d already fallen for him. I know he’s not going anywhere, he’ll always be mine.
She’ll be mine. She was mine all along, and I will make sure it stays that way. ——————————————————————————————---------
You woke up the next morning in your bed, well rested. That was rare because after the incident, sleep wasn’t even an option.
Why were you in your bed though? You remember accidentally falling asleep on the couch. It didn’t take you long to figure out Haechan probably put you to bed. Your mind tries to remember something else, and you remember a soft forehead kiss and a few head pats and him tucking you in. Your heart flutters, and you try to find yourself reasonable.
You get up from bed, ready to head to the office, and as usual, the house is quiet. You don’t run into Haechan in the mornings because he leaves before you even wake up. You don’t have to turn up at the company till nine, but Haechan has to be there by eight. It isn’t his company yet, his dad is still watching him.
You walk into the kitchen to make something to eat before you change and leave, and you aren’t fully awake yet. You open your eyes to the smell of something cooking, and it’s something sweet.
Haechan is standing by the stove, shirtless, his airpods plugged in. You can’t help but stare at his back, your lips tucking in on themselves automatically. His back muscles are defined, his arms are an eye candy, and the rest of his body is uncommentable. His grey sweats are loose around his waist, and you end up wondering what it looks like below his waist. You don’t even realise he’s turned around as you stare him down unconsciously.
“Do you really like staring at me that much?” he leans onto the island with one arm supporting all of his weight. You blush furiously as you turn around, heart unsettled.
“Why are you half naked in the kitchen? Go put something on, I live here too,” you shout, and he doesn’t seem to be bothered.
“I don’t want to put anything on. From the looks of it, you don’t really want me to either, do you?” he flips something in the pan but you can’t see since your back is facing him.
“N-no, put something on,”
Dammit, why did you stutter?
“No,” he simply answers, and you realise how stubborn he is.
“Do you want breakfast?” he asks, and you turn around hesitantly.
“Yeah,” you mumble, settling down on the seat at the island without a thought. You don’t look at him at all. Maybe you did steal glances.
“I made pancakes,” he places a plate down before you, and you look up at him. He smiles at you softly and you smile back, just looking at him. It’s just a little moment between you two before you decide to speak.
“Shouldn’t you be at the office?” you ask, reaching for the maple syrup. He even bought a new bottle of maple syrup.
“I took a half day, you’ve been working so hard I wanted to cook for you,” he leans forward on the counter, and the bottle almost tips out of your hand.
“Careful, sweetheart.” He takes the bottle out of your hand, and pours the syrup on the pancakes, placing the bottle down after. Your cheeks heat up, and you look down at your plate, cutting out a little piece of the stack of pancakes.
“Is this you trying to make me fall for you?” you ask, and Haechan stiffens. He sighs and then he says, “No, this is me cooking for you as your friend who cares about you. You haven’t slept well in days, you don’t eat well, and you’re starting to lose weight. Don’t think I don’t notice all of that,”
“I don’t care if you fall for me or not, as long as I get to love you either way. I just need you to take care of yourself, okay?” he looks into your eyes, a gentle smile on his face.
Fuck, he doesn’t even have to try to get into your head.
“You’ll be late, you should go. If I come back to the room and see food on the plate, I will light you on fire,” he threatens as he walks out of the room, leaving a smiley you behind.
As if. He loves me. ——————————————————————————————
The runway is close, and you have never been more content with your work in your life. You have enough designs ready, a few others unfinished but worthy enough to be released next time, and a few other substitutes. It’s all perfect, and almost all of it is your designs.
Haechan helped your creative process quite a lot, just being there and providing comfort for you. He even searched up some places you two could visit to trigger your inspiration, and it helped quite a lot. Although you have to say, your favourite dress in all of your collection would be the one you designed the night Haechan tried to kiss you. You were inspired by him to design that, and to say, it was a staff favourite.
“Madame, the runway is tomorrow, are you nervous?” your secretary seems excited and nervous, but more collected than you currently are.
“I am confident in our work, but I can’t help but feel nervous. God, this is nerve wracking.” you mumble, your fingers constantly playing with the paper weight in your hand.
“Everything is in check, I personally called the venue to check, you don’t have to worry. The preparations will be done almost four hours before the show, so you really don’t have to worry,” your secretary attempts to comfort you. You nod with a nervous smile, a large sigh following.
“You realise you’re working overtime, right Madame? It’s past seven, you should go home and get some rest,” she says, pity in her voice. You sigh, getting up from your chair.
“I’ll go home before Donghyuck gets mad at me for working overtime. You should too, you don’t have to stick around, it’s late,” you smile, and she nods.
“It’ll be hard to catch a ride at this hour, but I’ll just ask someone for a lift, thank you Madame,” she bows.
“How about I give you a ride?” you ask, and her eyes light in surprise.
“Oh, uh, Madame, that’s not necessary, please.” she smiles nervously.
“No, no, I insist. You’ve done so much for us, stayed over in overtime for so many hours. What kind of a CEO am I if I can’t give you a ride?” you smile and she smiles back gratefully.
“I’ll wait for you, be quick,” you walk out of the office. ——————————————————————————————
“Where the hell were you?” Haechan answers the door as you walk in with a sheepish grin. You hang your coat on the coat hanger, and turn to him.
“I didn’t realise I worked overtime, forgive me please,” you pout, giving your best puppy eyes. He folds almost instantly, but he tries to stay angry.
“Y-you could’ve called, o-or something,” his eyes avoid you. You smile in victory, opening your arms for a hug.
“Can I get a hug if you’re not mad?” you stare at him, and he stands there for a second before he groans and scoops you into his arms. His big hand rubs your back and it’s so soothing, you almost fall asleep in his arms.
“You must be so nervous,” he whispers, swaying you in his arms. You hum, your grip just as tight on his waist.
“Do you want to watch a movie with me, sweetheart? Just to get your mind off all of that for a while?” you pull back with a smile, nodding. He leaves a small kiss on your cheek before he pulls away completely.
“Choose the movie, I’ll get the snacks,” he shouts from the living room.
“Be there in a minute, need to change,” you shout back and he shouts a confirmation.
You and Haechan still aren’t a thing. You’re in love with Haechan now, but everytime he brings that up, you panic and deny everything. Everything about him is so perfect, the way he handles you, the way he hugs you, the way he touches you, the way he looks at you, everything. You can’t ever deny your feelings anymore because you’re so in love with him, so in love that you’d willingly burn anyone and anything that’d hurt him.
You walk into the living room in your favourite blue pyjamas, and Haechan is already on the couch, waiting for you. He’s scrolling on his phone, but he switches it off and places it onto the side when he sees you.
“Which movie do you wanna watch?” he asks, passing you your bowl of popcorn. You like your own popcorn most of the time, and little things and observations like this from him is what makes you fall more in love with him.
You take the remote and scroll through a few movies, before settling on a movie. It’s a romance movie, you’ve recalled the name skimming past your eyes when you looked for shows to watch.
You look at Haechan and he looks like he doesn’t mind, so you press play. The movie starts out, and you pull your blanket from the side onto your body. It’s cold outside.
Haechan moves a little closer to you, and you feel the goosebumps on his soft skin. You move your blanket onto his body and he gladly takes it without a word, thanking you quietly.
Haechan spreads his arms across the couch, and you risk moving closer into his arms. You cuddle up against him, curling into a little ball. He breathes in sharply, wrapping his arm around you a second after.
He’s so warm and soft, so comfortable to cuddle up to. Haechan tries to relax against you, and he gets so much dopamine from just your presence. It feels amazing. You’re his drug, his high.
As the movie plays furthur, the tension between the characters thickens. The sexual tension is so high and thick, it makes you heat up. You can feel the air under the blanket become hot, and Haechan being next to you isn’t helping the situation in any way.
Especially when the female character starts touching herself to the thought of her crush. That isn’t a very comfortable scene for you when you’ve done the same with Haechan, but who’s telling him.
Haechan clears his throat, and he’s clearly so disrupted by the scene. You, on the other hand, can feel something pooling in your panties, and you’re not ready to accept that you just got horny to a scene in a movie.
Your hand unconsciously traces up Haechan’s torso, and Haechan is overly aware of it. When they reach his chest, he stops your hand.
“Y-y/n,” he breathes out shakily, staring into your eyes. His fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you swallow roughly at his rough grip. His eyes look like black pools, so dark and lustful.
“Haechan, I-” you swallow, your gaze switching to his lips and back. You lean in to kiss him, risking all your morals.
Just as your lips touch his, his hand on your chest stops you. You look up with glassy eyes, and he asks, “Do you really want this? Are you sure?”
“I don’t want you to regret it later,” he’s quiet, gentle. You would have panicked and shouted no, and maybe even pushed him away. But you want him, no, you need him.
“I want you,” you whisper, and you hear his breath get stuck in his throat.
“I want you to kiss me, tell me how much you love me. I love you, maybe not as much as you love me, but as much as I can afford to love. Kiss me, please,” you whisper, and so many different emotions rush through him. You can see it.
He waits a moment before he places his lips on yours, his hand sliding by your jawline. He holds you so gently, and you need a minute to figure out you’re kissing him. You engage more in him, and your hand wraps around his neck, pulling him in deeper.
He sighs in happiness as he pulls away slowly, lips still brushing against each other.
“I love you too,” he whispers back with the happiest and the prettiest smile. You giggle gently as tears of relief coat your eyes, and he kisses you once again.
Here he was, in your arms, all yours. You can’t believe it. You kiss back so passionately, and you can’t stop yourself. Your hands roam his body, everywhere on his body, and you moan softly as he tugs on your lips. You climb into his lap, and you can easily feel his hardness on your ass.
Oh my god. You need to tell him before you go any further.
“W-wait,” you mumble, pushing gently at his chest. He pulls away without a word, and he looks worried.
“I-I have to tell you something,” you stutter out, playing with the back of his sweater.
“What's up? Are you regretting saying everything you did?” he asks, and you jump to correct his thoughts.
“No, no no no no, Hyuck please,”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that. I like it,” he smiles, but he looks pained.
“Haechan please, I love you, and no, I don’t regret anything I’ve done in the past minute, please.” you kiss him again, and his hand ends on your cheeks again.
You pull away and instead of dragging it out longer, you spit it out.
“I’m- I’m a virgin.” you spit, and Haechan looks a little shook. He didn’t expect you to be a virgin, not with how beautiful you were. He’d assumed you’d done something with Taeyong too, because you did say he was your first everything.
“I’m your first?” he then asks, to which you nod hesitantly. He smiles as he pulls you closer, his nose bumping with yours.
“Are you sure you want me to be your first?” his hands are wrapped tightly around your waist.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way than to give myself to the man I love,” you smile. He kisses you again, this time, a little more lust, a little more desire. He pulls you closer to his body as he kisses you, devouring your lips.
He’s only imagined this, how it would feel like to have you pressed up against him. He didn’t really think this would actually happen.
“Hold onto me,” he says, and stands up, taking you into his arms as you still kiss. You cling onto him, kissing him repeatedly. God, you can’t have enough of him.
He carries you to your bedroom, placing you down on the bed ever so gently.
“I promise I’ll be gentle with you,” he whispers into the kiss and you nod, tugging at his hoodie. He leans back to peel it off his body, and you can’t help but flush deep red at how beautiful he is. His muscles are not too thick, not to thin either, just perfect. Each dip and each curve of his muscle is defined softly, and he looks gorgeous.
“Let’s not rush it, okay?” he says, and you nod. You lift your arms for him to take off your shirt, and he pauses.
“Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his hand holding onto the first button of your shirt.
“Yes please,” you assure him, and he starts unbuttoning them one by one, holding his breath as each button reveals a different patch of skin. You watch his face in amusement as he brushes his hand against your collarbone, slipping the shirt off your shoulder. So much more skin for him to kiss.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he mumbles, his hands running along the expanse of your skin. There’s something about him cursing when he sees you, it makes him so much more passionate. And to say, that’s the first time you’ve heard him curse.
He gently places a kiss in the crook of your neck, and your breath catches in your throat. That’s your first neck kiss. God, you’ve waited so long for this.
His kisses trail from your neck to your collarbones and down your chest, to the top of your breasts.
“Haechan,” you gasp softly as he bites a mark onto your skin. “Hmm?” he hums in answer.
Your hands roam his body, and you can tell he’s especially sensitive on his nipples by the way his breath hitches a little when you touch past them. He softly sucks a mark by the top of your breasts, and hell, you want so much more of him.
“More, need more please,” you mumble in a daze. He nods, hands teasing the hook of your bra. “Can I?” he asks, and you hastily mumble out the consent. He pulls back from your skin to watch, and you already look so pretty, gorgeous for him.
Your eyes are glassy, so many pretty marks on your skin, and he needs to take a moment to admire your beauty. “Hyuck…” you whine, getting shy under his intense gaze. He makes out a soft laugh, kissing your forehead.
“Sorry, sorry, I just had to stare at how pretty you looked for me,” he mumbles out and you smile, butterflies in your stomach. He closes the distance between you both again, his hands quickly throwing off your bra. You gasp, suddenly feeling so bare.
“Sssh, you’re okay, I promise,” he softly kisses your lips, distracting you. Once you’re comfortable enough, his kisses start heading south again, all the way down to your breasts this time. He softly sucks on one of your nipples, his hand sliding down between your legs. You moan softly, and he loves it. He loves the sound so much.
“Moan so pretty for me again, baby.” he whispers again, switching his mouth from one nipple to the other. His hand spreads you open, and his fingers quickly find your clit. You moan out loud again, and Haechan loves it so much.
“Don’t hold your moans, love them so much, baby.” the way the nickname falls from his lips has you spiralling deeper into him. There’s so much love and affection in the way he holds you, so carefully like you’ll break if he handles you a little rougher.
His fingers slowly ease at your entrance, watching your face. You tense up and he senses it, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You’re a little nervous, you haven’t necessarily penetrated yourself a lot, and it’s always so tight when you do. You’re not even sure if you have a G-spot above all.
“Are you nervous?” he gently kisses all over your face, his hands pulling from your pussy. You nod, biting your lips.
“I don’t penetrate myself often,” you blush red, staring at his lips. They look so pretty.
“That’s okay, I’ll be careful, I promise.” he assures you, pecking your lips repeatedly. You trust him, maybe more than what you’re used to.
His fingers slowly push in your hole, and you gasp, feeling a little uncomfortable.
“So fucking wet and tight for me, my princess,” he nestles his middle finger in you, watching you so eagerly.
“Haechan,” you whine, pulling his mouth onto yours. You kissed him roughly, holding onto him so tightly. His fingers push in and out slowly, and you slowly gasp into the kiss. Haechan’s strong urge to hold your cheeks and spit into your mouth isn’t leaving, not when you kiss so messy.
When his fingers curl inside you, you see white. You moan messily into his mouth, and at this point, Haechan is so painfully hard. You were so tight and wet around his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how good it’d feel inside you.
“Faster,” you mumble, tears building in the corner of your eyes as you close in on your orgasm. “Close, close, so close,” you speak mindlessly, clutching onto the sheets.
“That's it, you’re doing so good for me, such a good girl for me,” he mumbles praises as you clench tight around his fingers.
“Haechan,” you whimper, pulling him in for another messy kiss to muffle your moans. His fingers press on your clit and that gets you. You cum hard on his fingers and he rides you through it, a soft smile on his face. Your legs shake lightly, and he soothes you through it.
“You did so well for me, baby. What a good girl,” he kisses you, his hands running over your thighs messily.
You hold his face close and whisper onto his lips, “Want you to fuck me,”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to push-”
“Fuck me, please.” you say. He sounds so nervous. Maybe he’s worried he’ll hurt you.
“Oh baby. Sure you can take me, love? Your tight little hole will be all used up by the time I’m done, princess.” your hole clenches, and you squeeze your thighs together.
“Please?”
He sighs, pinning you down to the bed once again with his lips. He presses you down, kissing you roughly, hungrily. He pulls away and slides down his sweats, and his underwear comes into view. The outline of his cock is huge.
His eyes are on you as he pulls down his underwear, a small gasp falling from your lips. He’s fucking huge. Your guess would be over eight. That’s probably an understatement.
“Like how big I am? Hmm?” he climbs back onto the bed, and you get a closer look at his cock. You don’t think that’s gonna fit inside you.
“You’re so big…” you whisper, and it doesn’t slip past his ears. He chuckles, placing another kiss at the top of your head as the head of his cock rubs against your pussy.
“Spit,” he opens his hand, and you spit onto it. He rubs it in between your pussy just in case you needed extra lubrication to take him in.
“You do touch yourself, don’t you sweetheart?” he asks, and you nod.
“Words, love.”
“Yes, yes I do, and I’ve done it to the thought of you,” you mumble mindlessly, mind too hazy to register what you were saying.
“Really now? You were my good girl all along, weren’t you?” his cock aligns with your hole again as you agree.
“I’m going to push in, love,” he whispers, and you wrap your hands around his neck before nodding. He pushes in, and you feel yourself being split open. He’s so big, and you already feel full before his cock is even half way in.
“Big, so- so big,” you whimper, your hands gripping onto his back.
“Sssh, you can take it puppy, yes you can,” he assures you, continuing to push in. Tears build in the corner of your eyes at the burn, and you whimper.
“Oh princess, you take me so well,” he coos, pressing gentle kisses everywhere. Tears drip from your eyes, and he wipes them away with his thumb, kissing them away.
“Promise it won’t hurt for long,” he assures you, and you hold onto him so tight. You weakly pull him into a kiss, asking him to move. He slowly rocks his hips forward, and you gasp, more tears building in your eyes.
Your cunt takes him so well, so tight and wet and warm. Haechan has to hold back his urge to fuck you stupid, until you’re just a mess that can’t talk, and all for your wellbeing. This is your first time, he needs to take it slow.
“It- it feels good,” you moan, scratching his back. Haechan fastens the pace by a little, and you moan out loud, your moans choppy.
“So good, degrade me, please,” you moan, and each moan, Haechan’s hips pistol a little harder, thrust a little faster.
“You’re a dirty fucking slut, fuck, look at you asking me so despretely,” he fucks you harder, degrading words falling from his lips.
“C-choke me,” you mumble out, and Haechan pauses for a second. You might be more kinky than he thought.
“Gladly,” his hand wraps around your neck, and he thrusts into you again, and you swear you saw stars.
“Fuck, yes, so good,” you cry, inching closer to your orgasm. He fucks you so hard, his hand wrapped around your throat, constant degrading falling from his lips. He praised you so far because he thought you wanted to take it slow, it was your first time. But all in the name of pleasant surprises.
Your back arches off the bed and sweat rolls down Haechan’s forehead from the effort, inching closer to an orgasm himself. Haechan pulls your leg up on his shoulder in a new angle, and you cry out when he touches a certain spot inside you that you didn’t know you had.
“Gonna cum, gonna cum on your cock,” you mumble mindlessly, your leg on Haechan’s shoulder. You almost scream as you clench, cumming hard on his cock. Your body shudders, and your legs shake from effort. It only takes a few more thrusts for Haechan to cum, and he pulls out before he cums. He cums onto your stomach, and you find it so hot.
He falls flat onto you, holding you close like you’ll disappear if he lets go.
“You did so well.” he kisses your forehead. You pant softly, your arms weakly clinging onto him.
“You wanna take a shower?” he asks, and you smile.
“Yes please,” you say, exhaustion dragging in your voice.
“Did I go too hard? Does it hurt anywhere?” he pouts out of habit, his eyes searching your face for any signs of displeasure.
“Noo, I’m fine,” you peck his lips.
“I mean, even if you’re hurt, it isn’t entirely my fault. You were the one who asked to get choked and degraded in the first place,” he states, and you blush brilliant red, glaring at him.
“Don’t glare at me, you know I’m right,” he smiles cheekily. You weakly punch him in the arm, and he acts like that costs his life. It gives you a good laugh.
“Let’s take a bath,” he stands up, slipping on his sweats. He picks you up and you squeal, covering yourself.
“What? It’s not like I didn’t just see all of this like a minute or two ago,” he rolls his eyes playfully, and you curl onto his chest. He places you into the bathtub, turning on the hot water for your sore muscles.
“Join me please,” you whine, scooting forward to make some space for him in the back. He giggles when he says, “Where do you think I’d go without joining you, don’t be dumb Mrs. Lee,”
You whine and he slips off his sweats, settling in the bath behind you. He leans back with a sigh, and you lean back onto him, relaxing all your muscles.
“When did you fall for me?” he asks.
“The day you tried to kiss me,” is your only quiet answer. He laughs and you laugh along, that being a fun memory now that you’ve really become a married couple.
“That wasn’t funny, you hurt my feelings back then,” he says, and you sigh.
“I know, I’m sorry. I wanted to kiss you, I did. But we promised to stay friends, and with my overthinking, all of it got into my head. You know, I even designed a certain dress that night, it’s a staff favourite. You’re the inspiration behind it,” you speak, and he hums, leaning over to press kisses onto your nape. You relax back into his gentle touch, smiling unconsciously.
You sit in silence like that for a while, just being next to each other.
“You touched yourself to the thought of me?” he asks, and you can sense the teasing smile on his face without looking.
“W-well,” you try to justify yourself, face burning red.
“I- you- you were walking around half naked that day and I was horny. I just- I thought of you doing what you just did to me,” you speak quietly, trying to hide your face away from him. Might as well come clean at this point.
“Well well well, I don’t mind. I think it’s so fucking hot,” he whispers into your ear. You shudder, a tight slap landing on Haechan’s thighs.
“Ouch,” Haechan yells falsely.
“Don’t do that,” you mumble shyly.
“Do what?”
“I don’t know, leave me alone,” you pout and look away, acting fake upset. He gets a good laugh out of it.
“Sorry, I had to,” he kisses your nape repeatedly as a form of apology. You pout, looking away.
“Okay, okay, let me wash you, hmm?” you look back again at his face, trying to hide your smile. God, how does he look so beautiful.
“You’re so pretty,” you adjust yourself to hold his face in your hands. He tilts his head towards your touch, enjoying the feeling.
“Pretty and all yours,” he smiles. He’s never been happier in his life except for the time when he was five and his dad got him the toy car he wanted.
You’re all his and he’s all yours. There’s nothing you both want more from the world. The fail of blemishes on his face, the little moles dotted everywhere onto his skin, he looks beautiful up close. You place your lips on his in the softest, most gentle kiss. It’s so pure, there’s nothing but love for each other in the span of those few seconds.
“How did I even end up with you?” Haechan whispers, his eyes observing you. You’re gorgeous, headstrong, and independent, you were truly a treasure to him.
“I don’t know, but fate had a plan for sure,” you laugh, a little teary eyed. To whoever put him in your path, thank you.
“Come here, baby,” the way he says it is so sweet, unlike the Haechan that was teasing you minutes ago. You move yourself again, your back facing him. You lean back and he pulls you against his chest, slow soft kisses on every inch of skin he could reach.
He finally does reach for the loofah, asking you to hand the body wash over when he realised he couldn’t reach it. He lathers it up and gently rubs over your skin, and a shaky sigh slips past your lips.
“It never fails to surprise me how much I love you,” he presses another kiss to your cheek and you giggle, leaning into him more.
“I’m going to love you back just as much with all I’ve got.” you mumble, and you can feel the smile in his voice when he speaks.
“I love you,” he whispers, and you whisper back the same words, letting him lather all the soap on your body. He’s so gentle, it makes you want to cry.
He washes your hair for you, gives you a few kisses, and helps you dry up. He wraps a towel around your body, looking at you with utmost love.
“Let’s get you to bed, okay?” he whispers and you nod with a cheeky smile. You feel like a toddler, so spoiled.
He gets you some clothes, the clothes being his. You curl into bed, exhausted and spent. Your eyes close and you feel one last kiss on your cheek before you slip into sleep.
Everything is going so well, you’ve never been happier. One last thing you need done is the runway, and you’ll be free ——————————————————————————————
“The show starts in 30 minutes, where’s Haechan?” you mumble, worried. You haven’t sat down all day long, running here and there to make sure everything was perfect. Haechan was nowhere to be seen, although he promised he’d be there an hour before the show started. What if something had gone wrong?
You call his phone for the sixteenth time, frustration creeping up your neck. A stylist comes up to you mid call, and asks a doubt, and it takes all of your inner strength not to shout.
“Gina please, we’ve been over this. Red eyeshadow for the purple dress, Green one for the blue. It’s the colour contrasts. There’s a sheet with Kim, just ask for it,” you shoo her away, and she walks away. You can’t stand out and keep calling him much longer, the hair stylists are late as it is.
“Madame,” your secretary runs up to you, switching off her headset. You gesture to her to keep going, your eyes on your phone.
“Mr. Lee had just called in, he wanted me to tell you that he was right outside the venue.” your eyes light up, hope igniting inside you. You were about to give him hell if he had missed this.
You tell your secretary to take charge until you’re back, and you run outside to him. “Haechan, where were you?” you sigh exasperated.
“Get in,” he says, and you do.
“I’m sorry for pulling you out in the middle of everything like this, but,” he says, rushing to pull something out of his pocket.
“Noticed you forgot our engagement ring at home, so I got a substitute to match your dress,” he smiles as he slides it on your ring finger.
“Haechan, I- I could have sent someone to get it,” you stare at him, confused.
“Consider this our engagement ring. We weren’t exactly couples when we got married for real, you know,” he blushes a little, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Come in, everyone wants to meet Mr. Lee,” you tease, leaning forward and closer to his lips.
“And they’ll meet Mr and Mrs. Lee. We’re a package deal, everyone knows that,” he kisses you, and you kiss back with the same intensity.
“I love you,”
“Love you too baby,” he whispers against your lips, stepping out of the car with you.
Everything was going to be fine. Everything will be fine. You’re with Haechan, nothing could go wrong, you know it.
#k radio!#nshitty frathouse#neohub#nct smut#haechan hard hours#nct 127 smut#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct u smut#nct fanfic#nct angst#nct#haechan headers#haechan#nct dream#lee donghyuck#Haechan
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for love; for power. (johnny/reader)
REQUEST (closed, sorry!) for anon: “may I request a johnny x y/n fic please? I'll leave the specifics up to you. I really enjoyed don't stop for nothing and I'd love another version of johnny to fall in love with (and make me blush lol)” | Johnny is your childhood best friend, and over the years, you’ve grown to realize you want more. Johnny is also a prince, while you are only nobility. You could never be considered worthy enough to marry him—and that’s if he even loved you back. Which he definitely doesn’t.
Characters: Johnny, female reader
Genre: oneshot, smut, royals/medieval au, getting together, childhood best friends to lovers, first times (kinda we just brush over that lol)
Warnings: ummmm none? there’s smut but it’s rather vanilla
Rating: Explicit
Length: 6.8k
“[Y/N]!”
You take a few more swings at the straw dummy before stepping back and pulling off your helmet, letting your sword fall to your side, hilt loose in your hands. “Your Highness,” you greet calmly when you see who was calling you, dipping into a quick curtsey. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Oh, knock it off,” Johnny snorts, slowing as he approaches. He nods at the dummy. “He really took a beating,” he notes. “Whose face did you picture when you swung?”
“Nobody’s,” you say, which is not a complete lie, sheathing your sword and tucking your helmet under your arm. “I feel I haven’t trained in a while.”
“You train every day,” Johnny says, nonplussed.
“I mean really train, vigorously. Not just for upkeep, but for improvement.” You cast him a sly sort of look. “My sparring partner has grown busy of late.”
“Your sparring partner has not been busy on purpose,” Johnny replies pointedly, somewhere between miffed and apologetic. “Besides, I’m not sure I would stand a much better chance than Sir Scarecrow the Thoroughly Beaten here.”
You laugh, shaking your head. He’s right on only one count—you would still much prefer him to the dummy in training, even if you always win. But he is busy. Johnny is a prince; he is his parents’ only heir. He shoulders a lot of responsibility, and since his twentieth birthday, his parents have shifted even more duties onto him. He spends hours sitting in on council meetings, shadowing his father as he goes about his day, taking meals with members of the nobility to familiarize himself with their dispositions so he will find it easier to take over when his father abdicates the throne to him.
And he’s doing very well. Johnny is smart, charismatic, and good-natured. He finds diplomacy easy, and because he’s hardworking, he doesn’t mind the long hours spent poring over records and learning the inner workings of castle politics. He’s almost ready to take on his father’s role as it is. The only thing he needs now is a queen.
That’s what’s been taking up the rest of his time—galas and balls for potential royal suitors to meet many eligible young ladies in the hopes that one will be his future wife. This, he has no taste for. While he rarely complains of the rest of the work, he cannot find a singular kind word for this piece of his life. He describes the events as dull and painful and embarrassing.
“Why do I need a wife to be a king?” he’ll often lament.
“You know you need to produce heirs somehow,” you’ll always remind him. “And they always prefer it when the heirs are of pure royal blood.”
And for you, that’s exactly the problem. But you’d never tell him.
The thing is, you’re not nobody. You’re actually nobility yourself. Your father commands the royal guard, and he is Johnny’s father’s most trusted advisor and closest friend. You and Johnny were raised together, grew up side by side, attended the same classes, trained shoulder to shoulder. You spent your childhood in friendly competition, pushing each other to achieve and grow. Johnny always outperformed you when it came to political and scientific academic pursuits, but he could rarely beat you in a fight, and he never had the mind for literature the same way you did. And you both knew that was how it was supposed to be. You would be assuming a leadership role in the royal guard soon, and when the time came, you would likely be to Johnny what your father has been to the king.
That would suit you just fine if you weren’t in love with him.
You can never marry him. Though your status is high, and you have close ties to the royal family, you are not royalty yourself, and so could never be seen as a suitable match. If Johnny had an older brother, perhaps, the king would be more than satisfied to see the two of you wed—the daughter of his best friend and closest ally, married to one of his sons.
But the king has no other sons. He only has Johnny, and so Johnny must be perfect. And since Johnny must be perfect, his wife must be too, and you know that because of your birth, that could never be you.
You resigned yourself to it years ago. You never once, not even when you were younger, not even when you were starry-eyed with the first rush of infatuation, thought there would be the slightest hope for you. That hasn’t made it much easier. You try to bury yourself in your work, tagging along with your father as much as possible when he meets with his generals to discuss kingdom business; you train more now, slashing up straw dummies with the thought of princesses you have never met in mind, filling your hours with grueling, mind-numbing work so you don’t have to think about how Johnny is off somewhere dancing with pretty girls. You love your life and you love your role and you always say you wouldn’t trade any of it for the world—but sometimes you think you might trade it for Johnny.
“I know you’re busy,” you say to him now. “How are things?”
“About the castle?” Johnny begins to walk back towards the entrance to the armory, and you fall into step beside him. “All is well. We’ve sorted the grain shortage; I doubt it will continue to be a problem, with this year’s harvest fast approaching. I must thank your father when I get the chance, for dispatching soldiers so quickly to distribute the excess from our stores among the towns.”
“It’s not him you should thank,” you say primly. “I organized the dispatch. My father was busy with the defense of the southern tip.”
“Ah, yes, the raids,” Johnny says, nodding as he pushes open the doors to one of the hallways. “He is confident?”
“Yes,” you say. “I doubt you’ll hear of it again.”
“Thank you,” Johnny says, “then, for your efficiency.”
You smile at him. “It was nothing,” you say. It was a bit of an ordeal, if you’re honest, to do it so quickly and carefully, but it’s nothing if Johnny is satisfied.
Johnny pauses by the kitchens. “Have you eaten?” he asks.
You shake your head. “I should get changed before I do. Cook will yell if I clank through his kitchen in my armor again.”
“He yelled last time because you were covered in blood,” Johnny says.
You laugh. “I will meet you in the mess hall, Your Highness,” you say, giving him another small curtsey, and hurry towards your quarters before he can hit you in retaliation for your mocking politeness.
You return in much more appropriate attire, and find Johnny seated at the end of one of the tables with two plates in front of him. He pushes the untouched one towards you when you sit, nodding at you to dig in.
“So,” you say, “how are other things? Not about the castle?”
Johnny groans, slightly muffled by the mouthful of chicken he’s working on. He swallows roughly, shaking his head. “It’s awful,” he says. “I’m going to another ball tonight, did I tell you? It’s not even guaranteed that I might meet new people, even though I’ve told my mother again and again that I have not liked any of the girls I’ve met.”
“I’m sorry,” you say softly. “Perhaps you’ll discover something new in someone old, though.”
“That’s what my mother said,” Johnny replies, stabbing a carrot. “And of course I have to go, there’s no getting out of it.”
“Will it be so bad?” you ask. “You get free drinks, and you get to dance. You like to dance.”
“Only with the right company,” Johnny says. “And the drinks are watered down and taste of piss. Besides, as disenchanted as I am with the whole ordeal, I wouldn’t want to drink heavily at such a public event.”
“That’s true,” you agree. “I’m sorry, I know you hate it. I’m just trying to help you find ways to bear it.”
“I know,” he says, flashing you a grateful look, genuine and warm. “And I don’t mean to be so contradictory. I’m just frustrated.”
“You’ll find someone eventually, and then you can stop with all this nonsense and begin the rest of your life.” You keep your tone light and cheerful. You’re good at hiding it by now; years of practice (and years of lessons in court manners) have made it tragically easy.
“I still don’t see why I must,” Johnny grumbles into his potatoes.
“You know why,” you say, and then change the subject. “Oh, have you been by the stables recently? One of the dams had her foal.”
“Which one?” Johnny’s eyes clear, sparkling now with bright interest.
“Honey,” you say, glad to be on to happier, less painful topics. “It’s a colt, and he seems healthy and strong. The stablehands say he will grow into a fine stallion.”
“If I had the time, I’d train him myself,” Johnny muses. You and Johnny grew up training the geldings; when you were older, you were each given a stallion to train as a test. Both of your stallions have turned out beautifully. “Who is he going to?”
“We don’t know yet,” you say. “I’m hoping it’s me.”
“Because Cherry was the sire,” Johnny says, nodding. “If I’m asked, I’ll push for it.”
Cherry was your stallion, named for the reddish hue to his dark coat. Johnny said it was a silly name for such a strong horse, but you insisted. You have a feeling Cherry knew how Johnny made fun, because he never warmed to Johnny the way he seemed to like you. “I appreciate it,” you reply. “It’ll give me something to do when you’re away. Things get boring around here once I’ve finished all my duties.”
Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Don’t let your father hear you say that, he’ll only give you more errands to run,” he warns.
“You’ve always been good at keeping my secrets,” you reply, shrugging, and Johnny laughs.
After you finish your meal, Johnny offers to walk you back to your room. “It’s for me,” he says when you tell him he doesn’t have to. “I don’t want to go prepare for this event just yet.”
“Alright,” you acquiesce. “When do you have to leave?”
“Soon,” Johnny says, glancing at the setting sun when you pass a window. “I know I’m going to be miserable. I almost wish I didn’t know how it would feel, because then the time leading up to it wouldn’t be so fraught with worry.”
“It’s just one night,” you say. “It’ll be over quickly.”
“One night of many,” Johnny says as you round the corner and step into your hallway. “It will be dull, just as the others have been, and annoying, just as the others have been. And the entire time, all I will think is that I’d rather be spending the evening here. With you.” Johnny gives you a sort of forlorn look. “Remember? When we were younger, and had free days. We’d spend whole days running around the grounds, just the two of us. I miss it.”
You blink back at him. “So do I,” you reply. “I suppose it’s only natural. Everyone wants for their childhood once it’s too late.” You give him a wry smile. “But we’re grown now. We must accept what that means.”
Johnny looks like he wants to say something, and then seems to think better of it. “I suppose,” he says quietly.
“Come find me tomorrow and tell me about the entire horrible night. We can walk down to the stables so you can meet the new colt,” you offer, smiling. “Now go, before you’re late and you get me in trouble.”
Johnny rolls his eyes. “My parents have never once blamed you for my shortcomings, they won’t start now.” But he moves to go, anyway. “Goodnight, [Y/N]. I trust yours will be better than mine.”
“I hope yours is bearable,” you reply, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Goodnight, Johnny.”
You linger in the doorway of your room, watching him retreat down the hall.
* * *
The weeks continue like this, like they always have. Johnny goes to balls and meets no one of consequence and comes home and complains of it to you. And you listen, because you’re a good friend, but it is a bit painful. Even if you were a potential match, it wouldn’t matter. Johnny is simply uninterested in marriage as a whole. You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse. You’re pretty sure it’s worse—just another reason why you are trapped in your fate.
Unfortunately for both of you, Johnny’s parents are set on finding him a wife. His parents do not push him on much, so Johnny can’t help but go along with it when his mother insists he have different princesses over for teas and dinners. You sulk in your room, watching the entourage parade in through the front gates, and then out again later in the day. Then you wait, and within minutes Johnny is knocking on your door so he can fling himself down on one of your chairs and explain how everything was wrong.
At first, his complaints were valid—many of the princesses didn’t seem interested in academic pursuits, or seemed too simple and too easily led, or else came from families who were clearly only hungry for the wealth of the kingdom. But Johnny is vocal about his dissatisfaction, and his mother is good at adjusting, and soon Johnny is complaining of small, petty things—how she sat, how she took her tea, the sound of her cough. Even to your ears, the reasons are weak and baseless.
“She’s insisting on a princess from a kingdom across the sea,” Johnny says one night. “She will be in the country to visit her maternal grandparents, and my mother invited her family to dinner.”
“Have you met her before?” you ask, letting a mask of calm settle over your features.
“Yes,” Johnny says, his tone acerbic, his pretty features twisted into an ugly grimace. “She was perfect.”
It becomes evident after their first meeting that she is perfect. Her name is Yerim, though when she and Johnny were children, he knew her as Yeri, a nickname that has stuck. She’s smart and funny and kind, and beautiful beyond measure. Her family has ties to Johnny’s kingdom, and they’re set up well to provide a dowry and future financial support, should Johnny propose and Yeri accept.
“I feel like I cannot protest,” Johnny tells you, pacing in front of your window. “I feel bad protesting. There is nothing wrong with her. She’s wonderful. My mother likes her mother. My father went hunting with hers just this morning and they came back with cheeks red from laughter, [Y/N], it’s like everybody wants it but me! And it’s because there is no reason for me to say no—except that I cannot imagine a future with her. I cannot imagine her bearing my children or sleeping in my bed or—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “But I can’t say no.”
You aren’t sure if it would be suspicious of you to agree with him, even though you do. It has been painful to watch him go through the process of searching for his queen, but to watch him marry would be torture. You’re not ready. You’re not ready to give him up.
But you know you can’t keep him to yourself forever. You want what’s best for him, and right now that’s for him to accept a marriage so he can move on with the rest of his life. Even if it hurts you, you must encourage him to do so with a smile because that’s what a friend, a friend who isn’t in love with him, would do.
“I know it’s hard, Johnny,” you say. “But this moment would have to come sooner or later. What if you refuse Yeri, and the next match your parents set their minds to is worse?”
“You’re agreeing with them?” Johnny asks.
“No!” you say quickly. “No, but I understand them. And I worry for you. Yeri seems like a good match. She will be a good companion, a good mother, a good queen, a good wife. You deserve nothing less.”
Johnny’s eyes burn with an anger you do not understand. “Is that all you care about? Don’t you think I deserve more?”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“Don’t you want me to be happy?” Johnny asks. “She can be all of those things, and I would still not be happy. Don’t you care if I love her?”
“You could grow to love her,” you reply, “and besides, you’re a prince. You will soon be a king. You do not need to marry for love. You marry for power and then once the marriage is complete, you are free to take mistresses as you choose. If you cannot find love with Yeri, then you will have the chance to find it there.” It’s not as hard to say as you might have thought. What’s the difference to you? Either way, it won’t be with you.
“Is that how you think of me?” Johnny’s voice is low and quiet and hurt. “You think me so lowly, you think I would abandon my wife, who I would pledge my life to, to chase the skirts of other women? That I would want to abandon the woman who is meant to be by my side for the rest of my life, who is meant to carry my children? I do not want that. I want to marry for power and for love. I do not want to compromise either.”
His anger makes you bitter. He is spoiled with choice, and still he finds a reason to complain. “No one can have everything they want,” you say, perhaps a bit too sharply. “Not even a crown prince.”
The hurt comes to the fore now, covering the frustration and the anger. “Why are you acting like this?” he asks. “Why are you speaking to me this way? What has happened to you?”
You think you might cry. You don’t know how to explain—how can you, how can you explain the years of pining after him in secret, the years of watching him and falling in love with every detail of his existence? How can you explain that this is one of the most difficult things you have ever had to do—to convince the man you love to marry another because you know it is right? How can you say that, now?
And how can the two of you fight like this? The last time you fought, you were children. You have always been each other’s comfort. And now an edge has been driven between you, and you’re not sure how, or how to fix it. “What has happened to you?” you shoot back. “I am only trying to help you, Johnny!”
“You are hurting me!” he exclaims. “It hurts that you, too, are pushing me into this marriage. Why? Is it because you tire of my company, and you wish for something else to take up my time so that I don’t come to see you anymore?”
“No,” you insist. “I simply don’t want you to lose an opportunity. You’re so close to doing everything you’ve been working towards your whole life. I don’t want something like this to stop you now.”
“Something like this?” Johnny repeats. “As if it’s something so small, so trivial. I do not want to marry this girl, [Y/N]. I don’t. I won’t. And no one will be able to force my hand.”
“Why not?” you ask. “You said it yourself, there is nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect. Why won’t you marry her?”
“Because—!” Johnny turns away from you, shoulders tense. It’s a moment before he speaks again. “Because,” he says, voice much smaller now, and unsteady, “I want to marry you.”
You fall silent, unsure if you heard him correctly.
“Well?” he demands when your silence stretches on a beat too long. “Say something.”
“You can’t marry me, Johnny,” you whisper.
The anger in his eyes flares again. “Why not? You are nobility, your father is my father’s best friend. I trust you with my life. You are smart and capable, and you would die to defend this country. Surely your lack of royal blood could be overlooked.” He deflates. “Unless, of course, you don’t want me.” Without waiting for you to respond, he continues. “You don’t want me. Of course you don’t, you’re my friend, not another princess I’m supposed to be wooing. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
You can hardly hear yourself when you finally speak. Your head is full of noise, a rushing from the blood thrumming through your body. “No, Johnny,” you stammer. “It’s not that. Of course—of course I want you.”
He stares. “You do?”
“Yes, I do,” you say, and now it all comes tumbling out. You couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. “I care for you more than anyone else, Johnny. I want you, how could I not want you? I—I love you, I’ve loved you for years.”
He comes up to you now, hands outstretched. “[Y/N],” he says, voice trembling. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? I’ve loved you for just as long, I’m certain.”
“Why didn’t you?” you counter, letting him take your hands in his. “How could I have said anything? How presumptuous would that have been? I felt pathetic. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was scared,” Johnny says. “I didn’t want to drive you away.” He’s close now, clutching your hands tightly, like he thinks if he lets go, you’ll disappear. “I’ll ask my parents. We’ve only entertained Yeri’s family for a day or two. They will understand. And my parents would have to say yes. Who better to entrust their son to than a woman who helped shape him? Than a woman he already loves, a woman who already loves him? A woman they already know? A woman whose family is already so close to my own? They will have to say yes.”
You search his face, the hope there bringing you both joy and sorrow. “And if they say no?” you ask.
Johnny pauses for a moment. And then—“Can I kiss you?” he asks.
The question startles you. “What—that’s not an answer to my question,” you say, stumbling over the words.
“If they say no,” Johnny says softly, “they will probably try to keep us apart. I want—” His grip on your hands tightens. “I want you, [Y/N], and if this is the last time we’re allowed to be alone together then—then I want to use it. If you want. I’ve waited for you for so long.”
“Oh,” you say softly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh, I see. Yes,” you add breathlessly, “yes, you can kiss me. You can—you can do more than kiss me.”
Johnny smiles, leaning in, and you close your eyes. He presses his lips to yours and kisses you gently, one hand shifting to your back so he can hold you close. You lean into his touch, into him, kissing back, timid at first, and then more insistent when it’s clear he doesn’t want to let go.
You’ve kissed people before, many times, but not like this. There’s a heat behind this kiss that you haven’t felt before, even though it’s gentle, even though there’s not teeth or tongue. Johnny holds you and kisses you like he wants you, like it’s all he wants, like you’re the only thing that matters. And you kiss him back, hoping he understands that for you, it’s the same.
“Curtains are open,” Johnny says softly when he pulls away. “Go lock your door.”
You fumble with the lock, and as soon as your door is bolted shut, Johnny is pulling your towards your bed. He’s blown out some of the candles so the room is dim and comfortable. You can only see him—his hair, falling out of its careful styling, a remnant of his extravagant dinner; his eyes, dark and beautiful; the peek of his chest you can see now that he’s hovering over you, sturdy and enticing.
“Why did you push me to marry Yeri?” Johnny asks softly. “If you love me?”
You shake your head. “I thought—I think I wanted it to be over. I wanted you to marry so that I could start getting used to it. And—I did mean what I said. You know you need a queen. I want to see you succeed, Johnny. I want to watch you do what you were born to do.”
“I want you by my side when I do it,” Johnny insists. “Not as my childhood friend. As my—”
“Don’t say it yet,” you say quickly. “We still don’t know if it will work. And we don’t know how love will change us. If you are to propose to me, I want you to do it properly, and when we can both keep the promise of marriage.”
Johnny nods. “You’re right,” he says. He kisses your cheek, your jaw. “If I am to marry for love, I should do it right.” He undoes the buttons of your shirt with deft fingers. “Tell me—if anything isn’t alright, if anything hurts. I’ve wanted this for so long, but I don’t know what you like.”
“Did you imagine it?” you ask. He hesitates, then nods, fingers slipping against the last of the buttons.
“I felt so guilty,” he confesses. “I thought you could never be interested, so I shouldn’t think of it. I felt ashamed, almost, imagining this, imagining you. I tried not to but I couldn’t help it.” He undoes the clasp of your skirts and the fabric loosens around your waist. You lift your hips so he can pull your skirt and undergarments off. It leaves you bare except for your corset.
“I imagined it, too,” you say. “So we are both guilty. What did you imagine?”
“This,” Johnny says, shifting downwards and bending over your body. He closes his mouth around your clit and you gasp, struggling not to arch up into his mouth for the fear of hurting him. He swirls his tongue in circles, moaning low in the back of his throat when you bite out stifled noises of want.
He must have imagined it—he doesn’t tire, hardly slowing his movements even when he reaches down to slip a finger into your pussy. It’s reassuring in a way to know you imagined the same things. You’ve wanted his mouth on you for so long, and to finally have it is a revelation. To finally have him—after years of imagining it in half-baked fantasies you always felt too guilty to touch in the light—makes hope sing through your body, and for one instant you allow yourself to imagine that this is what it will be like for the rest of your life. That you and Johnny will come home to one another, will lie beside one another. That this isn’t just for tonight.
But if it is just for tonight, you will get what you can out of it. You know both of you are far too eager for it to last long, but that doesn’t matter. Knowing Johnny wants you—knowing Johnny loves you will be enough, even if you must live on the memory. You think that might be alright.
Johnny’s added another finger now, but it hardly hurts. You’re already wet from arousal and from his tongue, so the glide is easy. Johnny curls his fingers inside you and has to pull off your clit to laugh when you whine, bucking your hips up and dislodging him.
“You’re beautiful,” he says quietly, eyes glimmering. “Better than I imagined. How could I have known?”
“Come here,” you demand, stretching out a hand. Johnny shifts himself up, tilting to the side so he doesn’t crush you, and presses his nose to your cheek. He keeps pumping his fingers, curling them like before and making you shudder.
“Sound so good,” he murmurs into your skin. “One more finger and then do you think you’ll be ready?”
“I’m ready now,” you reply, even though you know you are decidedly not. Luckily, Johnny seems to know as well; he just laughs again.
“I won’t hurt you,” he says firmly. “Not like that.”
You want to ask how he would hurt you, but he’s added another finger and you lose the question to the pleasure, turning your head so you can kiss him as he speeds up his hand until you’re whimpering. “Okay,” you hiss into his mouth. “I’m ready, I don’t want to wait anymore. Don’t make me wait anymore.”
Johnny pulls his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth to clean them. “Will you help me with my clothes?” he asks.
You don’t reply, just reach out and begin to unbutton his vest, pushing it aside so you can untie the strings of his tunic before moving on to his pants. He takes over once he deems his fingers clean enough, shucking off his shirt and vest all at once and then standing so he can free himself of his pants and undergarments as well.
When he returns to you, he is naked. His skin is soft on yours as he takes his place beside you, pretty fingers making quick work of the clasps of your corset. The stiff fabric finally falls away, and Johnny leans down to press a kiss to one of your nipples, humming when you give him a soft moan.
“Beautiful,” he repeats.
You open your mouth to hurry him along, but he’s already pushing himself up and settling between your legs, spreading them and bending your knees so he has more room. He presses a couple fingers back inside you, gathering some of the wetness there, and spreads it along the length of his cock so it won’t hurt.
He doesn’t say anything, just looks up at you and raises his eyebrows as he lines himself up. You nod, knowing your gaze is intense and burning enough for him to understand. And he does. He pushes in, slow and gentle, tipping forward as he does so he can kiss you to distract you, to help you relax.
It works. Soon, he’s bottomed out and you swear you can feel him in your stomach, but it doesn’t hurt like you thought it would. There’s a dull ache, but you know that will not persist. Instead, you feel full and warm and right.
“Are you alright?” Johnny whispers.
“Yes,” you reply. “Yes, it feels good. Please.”
Johnny knows what you mean, and rolls his hips back. He thrusts shallowly at first, keeping his pace slow so he doesn’t overwhelm you, when when it becomes clear that your body has already adjusted, he speeds up, strokes growing longer. Soon, moans spill across your lips as he brushes past the spot inside you that makes your whole body feel like it’s made of starlight—bright and otherworldly from the pleasure rushing through it.
Your eyes find Johnny’s, and oh, he’s so handsome. Some of his hair has fallen into his eyes, and he’s panting from the exertions, brows just barely creased in concentration. You watch the attractive flex of the muscles in his arms as he moves, the smooth ripple of strength there that you have already come to know so well, that you’ve watched covertly, through your eyelashes and when you were sure he wouldn’t catch you.
But now you don’t have to hide it. It’s yours. Johnny wouldn’t want anybody else looking. So you look, drinking in the sight of him, the expanse of bare skin, glowing honey-gold in the candlelight. You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. Something close to peace settles over his features, so you do it again, letting your nails scratch just slightly against his scalp, untangling strands as you go. With your other hand, you reach down to touch yourself, fingers quickly growing slick with Johnny’s spit, still not dry on your clit.
You’re gasping out soft moans, rolling your hips up to meet Johnny with every thrust. He dips his head, mouthing along your jaw. “Are you close?” he asks. His voice is rough; it sends a shiver down your spine. You know he can feel the tremor of it; his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “Yes?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Good,” he says. “I am, too.” He scrapes his teeth against your jawbone, then kisses over the spot. “I hope we have a next time,” he adds. “Even if we have to hide it, I don’t mind. I don’t want this to be the only time I can have you. It’s too short.”
“We will,” you say quickly. “Even if it is a secret.” Your head is swimming with lust now, a hazy cloud over your mind. Johnny keeps his rhythm, and it’s all you need, just the steady sparks of pleasure, and then you’re convulsing around him as you come, fingers shaking as they circle your clit in quick, erratic strokes.
You clench around Johnny without meaning to, and he groans low and pulls out quickly. Telling his parents that he wishes to marry you may be a bit of a controversy; a child would be a terrible scandal. He balances himself on one shaking arm so he can reach down on stroke himself, coming ribbons of hot white across your stomach only moments later.
You’re both silent for a moment, catching your breath. Johnny collapses at your side. You stare up at the shadows on your ceiling, thinking.
“What do we do now?” you ask.
“Sleep,” Johnny says through a yawn. You can’t stop yourself from laughing. “In the morning, I will find my parents. I will explain to them that I love you, that this is the reason why I have been so opposed to marriage. I will ask them to grant me permission to ask your hand in marriage. I assume my father will meet with your father before giving me an answer. I may even meet with him.”
“And if they say no?” you ask again.
“I will not stop asking until they say yes,” Johnny replies, kissing your cheek. “I have spent so long wishing for you. I won’t give you up now.” He kisses you again, then moves to get up.
“Where are you going?” You give him a look of confusion, propping yourself up on one elbow.
“To get something to clean up with,” he says, gesturing to his release drying on your stomach. “Unless you want to sleep like this? I’ve known you to be odd, but never illogical.”
“Oh, be quiet,” you say, grinning.
* * *
The next morning, Johnny leaves you with a kiss and a promise to bring news as quickly as possible. You lie in bed for a while, listless, as the sun climbs in the sky, then finally force yourself out of bed and down to the training grounds. Perhaps it will keep your mind off of it.
It does not, but at least it gives you something to do, and a place to vent your anxieties so that they don’t consume you. You practice until you’re sore, then retreat back to your rooms for a bath.
You’re just clasping the last button when a knock comes on your door.
“Who is it?” you ask, expecting Johnny.
“Your father.”
Oh. “Come in,” you say, turning from the glass to greet him.
Your father pushes the door open, surveying you for a moment as he steps across the threshold. “You’re nervous,” he notes as he closes the door behind him.
“I take it you know why,” you reply, not bothering to deny it.
“Yes.” Your father gestures to your chairs. “Shall we sit?”
You sit.
“Well?” you ask after the silence stretches on.
“The king—and Prince John—have asked for my blessing,” he says. “They wish for His Highness to marry you.”
“Really?” You start, staring at him in surprise. “Truly?”
Your father arches an eyebrow at you. “Are you implying my daughter isn’t good enough for them?”
You give him an exasperated look. “All my qualities do not give me royal blood,” you say. “That’s all. I thought—won’t it cause a scandal? And what of Princess Yerim—and her family?”
“They won’t announce it quite yet. They will take care of the princess’s family first, then work on warming the court to you. Of course, it’s an easier match than it could be. I think, honestly, Their Majesties are simply overcome with relief that the prince is open to any marriage at all.” Your father is wearing a dry smile, somewhere between disapproving and incredibly amused. “If you are not of royal blood, so be it. At least you are nobility, and are of good standing. Further, you are known to the family, and trusted. Some may say it is favoritism due to my friendship with the king, but it will hardly be a scandal. And once you prove yourself to be a wise and effective queen—as I’m sure you will—any talk will dissipate to nothing.”
You nod slowly. “I hope you’re right,” you say softly.”
“[Y/N].” Tenderness has found its way into his tone now. When you look up, his eyes are gentle, almost worried. “Is this what you want? You will be happy?”
“Yes,” you say quietly. “I will be happy. I love him, Father.”
This makes him smile. “I could have guessed it,” he says. “Will you still serve with me?”
“Of course,” you reply. “I think I should make a fearsome queen, commanding our armies.”
“I would have to agree,” your father says with a proud smile. He moves to stand. “Well, if you are happy with it, then I see no reason not to give my blessing. I will let them know.”
“Should I come?” you ask, pushing yourself out of your chair.
Your father nods. “If you wish. I think the prince would be happy to see you at once.”
You follow your father down familiar hallways. Everything feels different. The sun is brighter, warmer; your run your hands along the stone of the walls. It will be yours someday, someday soon. Yours and Johnny’s, and the children you will have together. You will not need to watch him have the life you wished to share with him from afar. You will not have to lose him. The knowledge settles in your stomach like a good meal—fulfilling and comforting.
Your father takes you past the usual entrance to the royal wing, where you would normally go to find Johnny on slow days, and instead uses an entrance further down. He leads you up a tower to one of the more secluded meeting rooms, and pushes the door open.
There, the royal family is waiting. Johnny’s head snaps up, eyes widening when he sees you. Your father bows to the king and queen, then to Johnny, and you hasten to curtsey behind him.
“I am here to inform you that I will happily give my blessing for our children to be wed,” your father says.
The king smiles, standing. “This is excellent news. It will have to be handled with care, as I’m sure you are aware, but please know that this does not mean we are any less happy to have found John a wife in such a wonderful woman.”
You curtsey again, a little flustered. “Thank you,” you say.
“Oh, let’s drop the formality, dear,” Johnny’s mother says, standing and coming to you. “After all, we’re to be family.” She is smiling as she takes your hands. “You will be a beautiful bride.”
“Thank you,” you stammer, eyes flickering from her face to Johnny’s, whose eyes have not left you since you entered the room.
When you look at him, he is smiling, the mirror image of his mother—bright and warm and happy. Your father says something to the king that you do not hear; the only thing you can focus on is Johnny, in his simple tunic and wrinkled pants. He’s so handsome. Here, in this stifled little room, your future together finally begins. You’re certain you’ve never been happier.
Johnny’s mother releases you and Johnny crosses to you immediately. “I love you,” he says breathlessly.
You want to kiss him, but your parents are here, so you think better of it. Instead you take his hand and squeeze it tight. “I love you, too,” you reply. “I can’t believe—this will be our life now.” You nod at your parents, who are laughing together. Johnny turns and smiles, watching them a moment before looking back at you.
“So,” he says. “Does this mean you’ll let me win when we spar? Sometimes? Is that a privilege I will get as your husband?
You laugh loudly. “In your dreams, Your Highness,” you say, making a taunting sort of face at him, and Johnny laughs, too.
#neowritingsnet#nct-writers#neosmutcollective#ksmutclub#cznnet#nshitty frathouse#works#johnny#nct#nct johnny#johnny fanfic#johnny fanfiction#johnny smut#nct johnny fanfic#nct johnny fanfiction#nct johnny smut#johnny/reader#johnny/reader fanfic#johnny/reader fanfiction#johnny/reader smut#johnnyxreader#johnny x reader#johnnyxreader fanfic#johnny seo#johnny suh#seo youngho#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#nct smut#johnny suh fanfic
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"In this changing season, I'll remember you, I'll remember us"
credit: 001, 002, 003, 004
#kpopsociety#kvanity#nctcreations#nshitty frathouse#nctinc#ultkpopnetwork#wkcnet#mark lee#nct#nct dream#superm#nct mark#nct dream mark#superm mark#nct gfx#nct dream gfx#superm gfx#nct mark lee#nct dream mark lee#superm mark lee#kpop gfx#mark lee gfx#mark gfx#can you tell that i'm not over hot sauce
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[ ## KUN @ 7:27 PM ]
Kun ! lit the last scented candle he had as he criss-crossed his legs on the floor. Closing his eyes be began focusing on his breath, slowly letting himself go in the tranquility of the peach and jasmine scented candle.
Breathe in and out, in and out, it was a simple task. A bright light was in the sight of his mind, Kun felt like he was floating. The slight smile on his face grew wider.
"Uh, er...I- Kun?"
His smile immediately faded and he peeped open his right eye. "What?" he grumbled.
Yangyang felt like he was disturbing an intimate moment, he wanted to curl up into himself and disappear at that moment- but the health and safety of Lucas mattered much more to him. Clearing his throat, he spoke up.
"Lucas ate the dog food and said it was good".
Kun hummed, "No big deal, it's happened before. Just makes sure he poops in the next twenty-four hours". Yangyang paused before speaking up again, "What if I ate some too?".
Kun knows for a fact it takes four to six business days for food to exit Yangyang's body, fuck. Yangyang gets constipated often. Getting up from his place on the floor, he swung open his door revealing a sheepish Yangyang.
"If you don't throw that dog food up I'm gonna make you"
#nct fluff#nct angst#nct smut#wayv fluff#wayv angst#wayv smut#qian kun fluff#qian kun angst#qian kun smut#nshitty frathouse
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Can you do a dreamie reaction to them sitting on ur lap but like no fluff a lil spicy yk😏😏
absolutely i can seggsy
no jisung!
renjun ⊱ tries to keep his cool but ultimately fails at that. whispers in ur ear “baby, you’re gonna cause me to have a problem, and when it happens you’re fixing it.”
jeno ⊱ kisses ur neck to get u flustered. rubbing ur waist to signal he wants to do ahem, other things. “look what you do to me baby.”
haechan ⊱ DEFINITELY talking dirty in ur ear, teases tf outta u. “baby, you’re so sexy. you wanna leave so you can sit on my cock?”
jaemin ⊱ the soft dom rlly comes out in him here. holds you tight so others don’t notice him pushing his boner into your ass. “baby look what you do to me, just from sitting in my lap.”
chenle ⊱ his face almost gives him away, but the others brush it off as him being embarrassed at the skinship. “now look what you’ve done, you need to fix it.”
#nshitty frathouse#nct#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct dream#nct reactions#nct dream reactions#nct dream scenarios#nct dream smut#nct dream imagines#renjun#jeno#haechan#jaemin#chenle
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wayv reaction to you trying to fight them
fluff + crack
kun
he’s already done with your bullshit
kun just gives you that one look
like him looking disappointed in you
scolds you for being weird and interrupting his work time
still says i love you
sometimes
ten
agrees and hisses at you
swings but misses because he’s short
probably scratches and bites you
definitely pulls your hair
it doesn’t end until kun comes in
winwin
rolls his eyes at you
if you’re persistent
he chokes you while staring into your eyes
soullessly until you die
or he just flicks your forehead and noodles away
lucas
throws you against the wall
unless you just take the first move and kick him in the balls
lays on the floor crying for his mommy
then gets up to demolish you
xiaojun
says no at first
then you tick him off
guitar goes flying and you die
i’m joking
not really, he tries to kill you
hendery
looks at you with judgement all over his face
he does agree except he bites
you bite back
he suffocates you with blanket
yangyang
agrees because he thinks you’re easy to fight
throws a pillow at you
realizes he’s fucked when you chase him with a knife
y’all never clarified what type of fight it was
#wayv#wayv reactions#wayv fluff#wayv scenarios#wayv crack#wayv headcanons#wayv kun#wayv ten#wayv winwin#wayv lucas#wayv hendery#wayv xiaojun#wayv yangyang#nct#nct fluff#nct scenarios#nct reactions#nct crack#nshitty frathouse#nctnetwrite
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1-800-SEO presents: — Where Is My Mind?
genre: dystopia/slight angst/escapism
pairing: Johnny Suh/Gender Neutral Reader
warnings: IV’s/needles, intravenous use of narcotics, bad coping mechanisms, alcohol use, depictions/descriptions of poverty to a degree, implied sexual activity, dreams
word count: 2506 words
in affiliation with: @127-mile ‘s
drive in fic collaboration
summary: Based in a future where your wildest dreams can be lived in for a few hours through intravenous methods, vices and virtues blur. Scraping by is all you can do, and escapism is all you live for. Maybe that will change when you meet him. (Loosely based on Inception.)
The familiar haze of mental fog clouds your mind, it coats the edges of your thoughts like a viscous syrup. You find yourself in a wheat field, the golden crops stretching for as far as the eye can see ahead of you. The swirling breeze passes over your hands and you feel it tickle, a sensation you’ve not felt in a long time. After taking a crisp piece of the surrounding plants into your hands, you feel each and every texture it offers with a fingertip. It’s not like you’ve ever touched real wheat before, you want to imprint it to memory. With the piece of crop still in your dominant hand, you turn your head, body following its arc too, and your eyes meet a cottage. The building just exudes a comforting energy, it's homely even when your real home is nothing alike. The trees that are positioned off to the side of the cottage provide the right amount of shade, one side of the house has full direct sunlight and the other is gently shaded, but in a comforting way. You drop the wheat and make your way over to the cottage. As you make your way up to the front door, following the perfectly placed path, you take in the smell of the decorative flowers that adorn the surrounding gardens. The smell of real flowers is something you’re not used to. Finally upon reaching the door, you outstretch your hand to grasp the door handle. The moment your skin makes contact with the sun-heated metal, a blinding hot white shoots across your vision, and pulls you out.
Waking up is never easy, but it’s not like you’re not used to it. The moment you open your eyes you are met with the same dingy apartment as almost every other wake up. Your arms feel weak from lack of circulation as you reach across to pull out your IV. It doesn’t sting, you’ve done this so many times, it’d be surprising if it did. As your eyes adjust to the light you start to make out the time, it’s displayed on the heads up view of your plexi-wall, and reads 11:36PM. Stars, it’d been 7 hours since you last ate, and your body is definitely letting you know as it starts to wake up from its lulled state. You shift your wobbly legs away from the crusty office chair you were sitting on and begin to make your way over to the food dispensary. You hold your palm over the sensor as a silver sachet slides out and into your palm. You make quick work of depositing its contents into a bowl and mixing it with hot water, your hunger spurring you to be swifter.
Before you know it, all of the food has been devoured, your stomach full, and the night is ready to be conquered. You have no desire to leave the flat, nothing calling you besides money to leave the (lack of) comfort of your home. But of course, money always beats out desire, and so you hastily put on your shoes and proofed jacket, grab your safety umbrella and backpack, and leave. Things had to be paid for, and your credits were seriously running low, if you wanted to continue with your expensive hobby, it meant scrounging. You’re not dumb, you knew that daydreaming wasn’t a cheap, safe, respectable, or even remotely healthy hobby to have, but at this point it was escapism, freedom from pain, and so you’d do anything for that sweet peace.
Once you’re at street level, you put up your umbrella. At this point it’s better to be safe than sorry, the acid rain warning that you saw on your dash ringing out in your memory. It never used to be like this, acid rain was once unheard of, but in the last ten years pollution came to the point that even the water cycle couldn’t be trusted. That’s the joys of living in urban scum, you think to yourself. Your ears register the faint sounds of sizzling rain droplets on your umbrella and you're grateful for it now. Your pace quickens, and after a blur of around 20 minutes walk, you arrive at your workplace.
Workplace was definitely too light of a word to call the building that stands before you. The imposing structure juts out into the dark with brightly coloured lights on its each corner, signalling its presence, as if it was easy to miss without the lights. The commonplace sound of thumping bass echoes about the street for meters, and it only gets louder as you walk up the stairs and into the building. A sign reading ‘Sondaero LivingSpaces’ greets you, but you know full well the people here are barely living. Oh no, this type of place is home to some of the most prolific daydreamers; well, the most prolific for the underground scene. You step through a set of large doors and out into the main courtyard. It’s an indoor park, filled with neon bioluminescent plants, and jarringly placed speakers. If this was any other establishment, the sea of ravers surrounded by people daydreaming on cot beds would be jarring to you, but you’re so used to it that you couldn’t care less; or more so, you’re plainly desensitised to it.
You find your way out onto the dancefloor and surround yourself with people - the more people the better, it just makes your job easier. Safely hidden in the palm of your hand is a biometric chip you crafted yourself. Implants are a little drastic in your opinion, especially when cosmetic, but this was a necessary thing to you considering it earnt you money. The function of the chip worked like this: every person is assigned biometric numerical values by the government of their country, this is to make controlling their finances easier without having a physical device like a debit card or a mobile phone. Instead each user is assigned these numerical values based on their facial bone structure, and the chip's job was to scan this using minute sensors. All you had to do was simply wave your hand in the direct vicinity of their face, and await results - those results being the chip draining their bank account of credit and depositing it into yours. The waving part is complicated in normal use, but when at a club, where wild dancing is the norm, it makes hand movements so much less conspicuous. As you imagine the small amounts of money gradually making its way into your account a man approaches you to your side.
The guy has long-ish dark brown hair, with eyes of the same colour and a tall stature. He begins dancing near you, slowly moving closer and closer towards your vicinity. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to this man, he was objectively good looking, and the smirk he was wearing on his face was hard to ignore. Before you know it, he’s leaning in your ear and shout-whispering: “hey, do you wanna get a drink with me, angel?” The confidence in him to skip all normal greetings is astounding to you, but in some ways that makes him even more attractive to you, so you whisper-shout back “yeah!” and lead him over to the bar by the elbow.
After you have a few drinks in you, dancing becomes thoughtless, and swaying and grinding on the nameless man is even easier. “Yo, what’s your name?” You ask over the pulsing beat. His response is a finger trailing up your spine with the words ‘Johnny’ leaving his lips. Maybe those disquieting thoughts aren’t only silenced by daydreaming, maybe this could be another outlet. That thought curls in your mind, the wispy tendrils of a coherent thought fading like a misty night.
A few more drinks in your systems leads you to going home with the man, but your memories fade away as the night (or should you say early morning?) carries on. It passes by in a blur and the next thing you know you’re being startled awake by a cat sitting on your chest, with an unearthly headache.
Once you finally manage to extricate yourself from the cat’s grasps, you sit up and immediately notice the sleeping form of Johnny next to you on the tatami, his chest rising and falling with each breath. As quietly as you can, you tiptoe up off the tatami floor, acknowledge the ache throughout your entire body and move towards his kitchenette for a glass of water. Unbeknownst to you, Johnny apparently has a rudely noisy water purifying outlet attached to his faucet, and it decides to make itself known the moment you hover your palm over the on sensor. Johnny quickly stirs awake at the noise, and he sleepily opens his eyes in your direction.
“Wha-what’s going on?” He asks, squinting as his dark eyes adjust to the light. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just trying to get some water.” You respond, tottering back over to the tatami, glass of water in hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t really remember much of last night, did we uh- what did we do?” You’re aware your question was haphazard, but the incessant hangover looming in your head has your thoughts less than clear.
“If you are wondering if we had sex, the answer is yes, but the only thing I remember is waking up covered in… unsavoury stuff...so that certainly was a way of knowing how. I also know that apparently at some part of the night we decided to dream ‘cause I had to tidy up the gear earlier, but to put any worries at bay, I’m clean and vaccinated so...yeah.” He finishes the end of his sentence, trailing off. Well, at least the mystery man is somewhat of a gentleman, and he’s not gonna give you anything nasty which is always a good thing. You realise his late night cleaning must’ve turned to yourself at some point considering you are somewhat dressed and clean, but you can’t find it in you to care, you’d come to this shameful point so what did a bit of aftercare matter.
“Oh ok, and thanks for letting me know. I’m clean and fully vaccinated too.” You respond, unsure how to act around him. Perhaps he feels your apprehension, and in answer he pats a spot on the tatami next to him, just away from his cat too. You make your way over to the spot, feet padding on the floor as you go. “Your cat’s cute, they decided to sit on my chest this morning. Despite knocking the breath out of me, they’re pretty charming.” Johnny’s eyes widen at this knowledge before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. It’s somewhat comforting to hear such a genuine laugh; it takes your mind off the world of insincerity around you.
“I apologise for Ten, he gets cuddly in the mornings.” Johnny picks up his cat to give you more space, Ten’s legs sprawling wide in the air before being put down to safety.
There’s something so warm and familiar about Johnny’s presence, it has you naturally leaning into him, and his arm comes to rest around your shoulders as your head gently leans on his chest. The feeling is just so warm and despite knowing you don’t know him well, it almost feels like you do. It feels like a lover long lost, and now he has returned a warm feeling spreads throughout your chest. It’s almost inexplicable, and if you were to try to justify it to anyone other than yourself, a wave of embarrassment would certainly wash over you.
Looking down at you, he meets your eyes, and they seem somewhat fond; not what you were expecting to see. “Do you fancy dreamin’?” He asks, still maintaining eye contact? “Hmm, sure, hopefully I’ll remember it this time.” You reply with a smile and he reciprocates.
Before you even open your eyes you’re met with the sensation of skin on skin. Beneath your fingertips you feel, what you suppose is a firm chest, and when you open your eyes your suspicions are confirmed. Your hands are resting on Johnny’s taut chest, and of course this is what an unscripted dream with the two of you looks like. You feel that you are naked too, and his hands rest gently around your waist, a relaxing gentle weight reassuring you he’s still there. You meet each other’s eyes and the tension is palpable in the air. He dips his head down and kisses you, lips melting together with ease. His hands move from their placing and trail down to cup the small of your back, your bodies meeting infinitely closer.
The two of you move together like jigsaw pieces slotting into place, there’s no conscious thoughts, only the two of you existing in this dream space. Part of you can feel Johnny’s thoughts swirling as you share the hazy unstructured scape. There’s hints of lust mixed with a sleepy mindset, probably left over from waking up moments ago in the real world. He’s set on being a lazy lover right now, selfishly devouring you with no haste in any of his actions, just taking these moments for himself. He can feel your thoughts just as much as you can feel his, he knows you’re feeling relaxed with him and he’s pleased at that, he knows how good you feel right now and he’s proud. He wants to use all of this time to make you feel good. You’re both in agreement that losing yourself in each other is ever so easy, and so you both fall into the other's grasps.
The second time you wake up, Ten is resting on your feet, warming them from the slight chill of the room. Johnny had roused quicker than you, and he’d already removed the IV from your arm. You spot him winding up the fluid bags and putting them into the insulated case they reside in. “How are you feeling?” He asks whilst disposing of the needles in the marked sharps box. “Good, lighter than usual. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, albeit mostly imaginary.”
The floaty feeling remains in the forefront of your consciousness. Despite feeling lighter, less burdened, you’re aware that you need to change your vices. Constantly daydreaming, forming relationships through them, isn’t healthy. Continuous escapism isn’t a way to live; numbing yourself over and over again won’t solve anything. With a new fervor to gain meaning in your life, you rise from your place on the tatami. “What are your plans for today, John?” You ask, perhaps vices and meaning aren’t that different from each other.
long time no see! this is my penultimate fic :(( hopefully u guys enjoyed it! I know it’s not like my usual style and is somewhat offbeat but I hope it makes sense hehe <3
#Johnny suh#Johnny seo#nct#nshitty frathouse#nct u#nct 127#Johnny suh angst#Johnny suh fluff#johnny angst#johnny fluff#kpop fluff#kpop angst#nct fluff#nct angst#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 angst#nct johnny fluff#nct johnny angst#mine#drive in collab#drive in fic collab#kpop blurb#kpop drabble
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Tickets to My Downfall
Chapter 1: Title Track
Frat Sebastian Stan x F! Reader
A/N: this is my very first Fanfiction so please go easy on me, but also feel free to give me feedback, it’s very much appreciated. Anyways I can not find a Frat Sebastian Stan fic anywhere so enjoy.
WARNING: alcohol, drugs, sexual themes, violence, swearing, everything a frat party would entail.
You had started college 2 months ago, of course you had heard about the frat parties and how they ended up partying from Friday morning and going all the way until early Monday morning. Your friends often found themselves there, spending every weekend night in the house.
That’s how you ended up here, nonstop, relentless peer pressure from your friends had convinced you to go. The smell of alcohol hit you like a wall as soon as you opened the door to the large house. You hadn’t missed the boys doing head bangers on the front lawn, and you definitely didn’t miss the giant sign on the front of the house that read: “21 to drink, 18 to sleep over.”
The bright flashing lights were the second thing to catch your attention, after the smell of alcohol. Your friends were laughing, excited for another weekend of non-stop drinking. The house was packed, wall to wall people, all yelling, laughing, and dancing to the loud music. A song you recognized, Summer by Calvin Harris.
Your friends, Alissa and Shania were grabbing your hand, dragging you along. Alissa had let you borrow a tight, neon pink, body con dress, you were extremely thankful. You knew the dress showed you off, you knew you looked beautiful.
You ended up at the Dining Room where four Beer Pong tables were going, guys, who you assumed were apart of the frat were busy playing. You recognized one of the boys, Chris, Chris Evans. He played small forward for the colleges basketball team, and he was actually good.
You watched as Chris bursted out laughing at something the man next to him whispered to him, the man next to him was darker skinned, had large pecks and biceps. It must’ve been obvious you were staring as Shania leaned over. “That’s Anthony, plays Baseball for the team, best batter on the team.”
“Interesting” you spoke, your eyes landing on the beautiful man that played against Chris and Anthony.
He held the pong ball in his hand, the veins in his arms were incredibly defined, he wore a tight black t shirt and nice fitted jeans. You took a deep breath, watching as he ran a hand through his long brown hair, his bright blue eyes landed on you.
You immediately swallowed, looking away, hoping not to embarrass yourself more than you’re sure you already have. A bright blush on your cheeks. Your eyes, looked back to the mystery man.
His bright blue eyes started at you, a large smirk on his face before he put his attention back on the beer pong game in front of him, shooting the pong ball into a cup.
His eyes landed back on you, and you couldn’t but look away, knowing he was checking you out. You couldn’t help but wonder who he was, even what his name was.
“Come on, get lost Tom!” Your eyes landed back on the mystery man, who was now pushing the kid he was playing pong with away.
“Oi! Come on, Sebastian! One more game!” The kid had a British accent and you couldn’t help but giggle at the scene. Eventually, the kid, Tom walked away, almost pouting at the fact he was kicked off the pong tables.
“Hey” your eyes landed on Sebastian, who still stood at the beer pong table. “Want to come play?”
You bit your lip, looking for your friends, who seemed to have disappeared into the crowd somewhere. You looked back at the man, Sebastian, who held out a pong ball for you. You shrugged your shoulders, letting a smile grow onto your face. “Sure, why not?”
Sebastian smirked, as you made your way up to him, taking your place at the pong table beside him. “What’s your name?”
“Y/n” you told him, looking him up and down. “What’s yours?”
“Sebastian.” He spoke, giving you a toothy grin, causing yourself to smile.
“Well, nice to meet you, Sebastian” you spoke, smiling and holding out your hand which he happily took, a giant smile on his face.
“Nice to meet you as well, Y/N. Now, shall we kick their asses?” Sebastian spoke, nodding his head towards Chris and Anthony, causing you to giggle.
“Yes, I think we should.” You took the pong ball he offered you up, aiming and shooting.
Luckily, the pong ball landed in one of the six cups, and you let out a large smile as Sebastian patted you on the back. “Atta girl.”
You bit your lip, feeling a instant blush come to your cheeks. You and Sebastian spent the whole night flirting back and forth at the pong table, checking your phone and seeing the time: ‘2:00am’.
“Hey! Who’s the slut?” Your head and body had never spun so fast, as did Sebastian. The two of you looked to see a younger guy, he looked at you with absolute disgust and you felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to cry, you had never felt so embarrassed before.
“The fuck did you just say, kid?” Sebastians words left his mouth, they were covered in anger and venom and you looked up at the man beside you.
“Come on, look at her.” You bit your lip, tucking your hair behind your ear, before your eyes landed on the ground they landed on Sebastian who was already moving to the stranger.
Your eyes widened as you watched Sebastian grab the front of the kids t-shirt, pulling him forward and sending his fist into the side of his face. You watched as the kid stumbled forward, before landing on the ground, face first.
You quickly made your way to Sebastian, gently, setting your hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, I-I wasn’t too worried.”
Sebastian looked down at you nodding, you grabbed his hand, a small smile on your lips, watching as one had begun to grow on his face before quickly being interrupted.
“COPS!” You spun around, looking out the front window, where bright red and blue lights were flashing. You looked back to Sebastian, who looked annoyed at the situation.
You grabbed his other hand, causing his attention to land back on you, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not twenty one”
Sebastians eyebrows furrowed before his eyes widened, before he could say anything Shania and Alissas hands grabbing yours from Sebastian, their eyes both wide. “Sorry to break this up!”
“But we have got to go!” Alissa spoke, fear in her voice as you turned to look back to Sebastian, who had another smile on his face.
“I’ll see you later?” Sebastian offered, taking a sip from the beer in his hand.
“Yes, of course!” You spoke, before you were busy, being dragged off and away from him.
“Wait! What’s your number!” Sebastian yelled out as the girls dragged you out the back door.
“You’ll see me around!” You yelled back before the three of you snuck out the back door, running through yards to get back to the doors.
#bucky barnes#captain america#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#nshitty frathouse#sebastian stan imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#chris evans#anthony mackie#tfatws#the falcon and the winter soldier#celebrities#Spotify
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unforgettable | na jaemin
unforgettable | na jaemin
part of the playlist series!
genre: smut, angst
pairing: college!au, bassist!jaemin x f. reader
word count: 19.6k
synopsis: No other girl could even compare to the way you made him feel, and he’s determined to find out just what makes you so special. No matter how many times you push each other away, you’ll always be unforgettable to him, and him to you.
rating: 18+ NSFW WARNINGS INCLUDED UNDER THE CUT
this entire fic was so self indulgent; i have no explanation for myself. I present to you almost 20k words of kat being a simp for na jaemin. i was literally getting butterflies writing some of this.
warnings: CHEEKY MUSICIAN JAEMIN, swearing, protected sex (condom), fingering, oral (m + f receiving), multiple orgasms (f), spitting (lol?), dirty talk, copious amounts of flirting, confusing flirting, confusing relationship that isn’t even a relationship
nothing in this fic is meant to be a representation of these idols in real life. this is for creative purposes only.
The stage is where Jaemin feels like he’s dead, alive and surviving all at the same time.
“Last one!” Jeno called, and Jaemin nodded before turning back toward the crowd. His calloused fingertips fell into their natural rhythm. His favorite bass guitar, the white one, hung low over his pelvis and he jutted his chin toward Haechan, signaling the singer to present himself to the mic.
For most of the night, the drunken crowd had paid little attention to their music and instead used it as background noise as they partied wildly, but there was something about their closing song that always got people’s heads turning. Renjun gave a small riff on his guitar and Jeno pumped up the tempo of his drumming.
“Are you ready?” Haechan asked into the mic, an eruption of cheers answering back. The four boys smiled, Jaemin throwing his head back in a way where his body couldn’t possibly have handled the flood of pure glee rushing through him if he hadn’t. He laughed outright, but it couldn’t be heard over the booming sound systems and Haechan’s approaching voice.
Jaemin had strummed to this song enough times to do it with his eyes closed, and his vocals wouldn’t come in until the bridge, so it gave him plenty of time to entertain himself without the mental strain.
Scratch that, it gave him plenty of time for his eyes to land on you.
He might not have noticed you if it weren’t for the way you were dancing, alone and without a care yet filling up all the empty space a partner would have otherwise been. You wore a simple black dress but the way your pretty body moved in it caught his interest. And with one scan of the crowd, he wasn’t the only admirer. Jaemin could only spot glances of your face through your curtain of hair, his eyes glued to you and they couldn’t do much of anything else. You were so free and full of life.
The venue was outdoors, in the backyard of some rich frat Jaemin didn’t know the name of, and strings of lights swooped back and forth above their heads to enhance the youthful stupidity going on below. Were you alone in this big filled party? Him and the boys don’t necessarily stop by this campus too often to play, but he’s surely never seen you here before. He didn’t know what to make of that.
Jaemin didn’t have much time to dwell. The song’s bridge was somehow already halfway through and Renjun was side-eyeing the hell out of him as he covered for his lack of, well, singing. Jaemin knew exactly what the guitarist was thinking. What an idiot.
They played it off well though, and by the time Jeno clashed the cymbals in finality everything had gone relatively smoothly as far as Jaemin was concerned. His bandmates didn’t seem to agree.
“What was that?” Renjun barked as they exited the small makeshift stage, raising his voice over the generic EDM music now blasting through the speakers. Jaemin shoved his bass into its case and shrugged, sending his friends a condescending salute and an insulting smile as he walked backwards into the crowd. The three of them knew the boy well enough to guess where he was going.
“Fucking hornbug,” Haechan sighed, but he was chuckling under his breath.
The thickness of bodies proved hard to navigate through as Jaemin craned his head over everyone else’s. After many shoves and half-assed apologies, he finally found you, who was talking to another girl in the middle of the dance floor. His eyes followed the lines of your body, but with closer proximity, he could finally see your face in its entirety. And fuck, he was ready to see much more.
Jaemin shifted his demeanor to suit something more appealing, and with a surge of confidence he weeded his way to your side. He looked away at first, ruffling his hair upon habit. His nonchalant attitude must’ve worked, because your eyes landed on him and didn’t care to look away. Jaemin caught your stare and studied you for a moment, as if that wasn’t what he had been doing for the past five minutes in secret.
Pretty, Jaemin thought mindlessly.
Your friend gave the two of you a knowing look before willingly slipping away, leaving you in the hands of this beautiful stranger. His flowy shirt was unbuttoned several times down to reveal his chest, his black hair messy, its previous styling now overcome with a thin layer of sweat. There was a tattoo running down the side of his neck, and though the dark lighting around you prevented you from seeing what exactly it was, the ink stood out strongly on his pale skin.
Hot, you said to yourself.
“You’re from the band, right?” you asked, and he nodded with a smile. He liked that you didn’t quite know who he was. Jaemin could feel the mutual attraction, and it struck him that good things would happen tonight. He just knew it.
“And you’re quite the dancer—” Jaemin paused, his eyes hunting yours expectantly.
“Y/n,” you finished, satisfying the first step the both of you needed. “And what should I call you?”
“Na Jaemin,” he breathed out, stepping a few measly inches closer, yet it spoke volumes as he loomed over you. You quirked an eyebrow at him, your eyes wide and alluring as you stared up at him in a way that made his heart jump into his throat. He could see right through you, though, and he knew not to grant you false innocence. You were far past that threshold, and he pouted at your efforts. He was done playing the meeting game.
“Do you feel what I’m feeling, Y/n?” he pondered, his voice dark and soft in a haunting combination. It was such a loaded question for him to ask, and you responded instead with a touch to his hand. His eyes flickered down and he bit his smirk away, keeping his body still as you guided his movements. Slowly, until his cold fingertips grazed where your dress clung to your thigh, and your exhale was so shaky he had to use every muscle in his body not to rip you apart in the crowded, dark room.
You froze your movements, and Jaemin’s eyes moved back up to your challenging gaze. You were willing him to make the next move, he realized. Funny, because he didn’t hesitate before moving his hand past the hem. He hummed in satisfaction when you gasped.
“It depends. Am I?”
“Fuck yeah,”
It was the last thing Jaemin said before pressing himself into you for a kiss. You were glad he was so quick to jump on the train you were steering, and you figured the universe picked well when leading you straight into Jaemin. Whoever you had to thank for giving you this handsome, endearing, amazing-at-kissing man was getting a million cries of gratitude from you.
You learned quickly that Jaemin was both a very touchy and vocal lover. His large hands reached down to shamelessly grip your ass through the material of your short dress, and you shuddered as you weaved your hands into his hair, his low groan invading your mouth. You were so lost in the kiss that you squeaked in surprise when he pulled your body harshly into his, and you could feel a prominent bulge against your lower abdomen. You were about to pull away to catch your breath when he chased your lips, sucking and nipping your bottom lip before he let you go.
“Aw,” he cooed, peppering light kisses along your face until he reached the shell of your ear. “Looks like someone took more than they could handle,”
You scowled up at him mockingly, and Jaemin couldn’t stop from pecking your lips. How you could be so addicting, he didn’t know. He swore he just met you, right?
“Come on,” he called, grabbing your hand and leading you through the crowd. You received a couple nosy looks from the people you passed, everyone glancing down at your intertwined hands. They all must know the boy you were with. You figured you might be a little over your head, but you surely weren’t going to stop now.
There was a shift in the air when you both stumbled into the empty hallway, the music seeming so far away and the lights too bright. Jaemin tried the handles on a couple doors and eventually struck luck, tugging you into the bedroom, and the sound of the door shutting and locking was the final nail in your heavenly coffin.
You two got undressed rather quickly, until you were both left bare and he was looking you up and down like he was a devil sent to your beckoning. You couldn’t help but notice his build, the muscles in his torso rippling as he approached you. He kept advancing until his chest was out of sight and he was pressing against you, the poster behind you smooth on your skin.
The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, the lighting in the room dim from the singular, weak lamp on the desk. You noticed how large his eyes and how rather long his eyelashes were as he blinked at you. You hooked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
“Is this okay?” Jaemin asked, hands rubbing the curve of your hips before squeezing your skin slightly.
“Yeah, definitely okay,” you breathed out. The look in your eyes stirred something within him, and he leaned forward to press a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. It was intimate, and the skin he left behind tingled. You closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his lips moving to explore your jaw, down to your neck where he ran his scorching tongue. You were sighing heavily when he nipped your skin teasingly.
“Darling,” he whispered, moving his face back up to capture your lips. You both groaned into the kiss and you were acutely aware of the way his bulge nudged softly against your tight, so you reached down to cup his length. He groaned, and you were sure he couldn’t possibly get any more attractive than that. “I don’t even know what to do with you,”
“You’re so big,” you murmured, your fingertips light as they brushed down the shadow of his length. Jaemin smiled, a cute grin with his lips glued tightly together as his eyes squinted at you endearingly.
“Too big?” he questioned, and you nodded meekly. “But it’ll make you feel so good, right? ‘Cause you’ll take it. You’ll take it just for me and I’ll let you cum,”
You melted at his words and you were surprised he had such quickening control over you. Jaemin was just so damn assertive that he managed to weaken your resolve.
“Would you like that, baby?” Jaemin grabbed you by the waist and peeled you off the wall, and the two of you stumbled over to the bed as he twisted around and let you rest on the mattress first. He followed right behind and slotted a knee between your legs to pry them open. “You just want someone to take care of you,”
“Want you to take care of me,” you replied. Jaemin hummed in agreement.
“I’ll do more than that,” he promised, placing small kisses on your boob that almost tickled. Daringly, you shifted your bodies until his back hit the sheets. Jaemin sucked in a breath as you wrapped your hand around his length, letting you stroke him a few times before turning him over on his back. He scooted up the sheets so he could lean against the headboard and get a proper look at you. Even if he wanted to be in control of the situation, he could never deny you as you knelt between his legs, the curve of your ass taunting him.
Jaemin finally pulled his underwear off, tossing it somewhere off the bed and you smiled at seeing his erect cock. It was big, incredibly thick and Jaemin was clearly aware as he smirked at you, the pretty girl practically drooling at the sight of him. You licked your lips and peered up at him but he was only looking at you with dark, hooded eyes, encouraging you to start. You grabbed the base of his cock, giddy at the way your hand couldn’t quite wrap around its entirety. Jaemin hissed as you licked up to the tip, several times until you were satisfied with the saliva coating his length.
“Holy shit,” he panted, your mouth wrapping delicately over his swollen head as your tongue traced the underside. Jaemin was visibly sweating now, the ridges of his abdomen rising and falling with his labored breaths. Without warning you sank lower, his tip bordering on the entrance of your throat. He choked out a low groan and admired you with pupils blown out from the pleasure.
You sucked harshly as you bobbed your head up and down, focused entirely on the way his face contorted and how hot he sounded. You pulled away for a second to breathe, and Jaemin took the opportunity to lunge his upper body forward and grab your hair, forcing your head back.
“Open,” he muttered, and your jaw opened obediently. He smirked at your compliance and ran his thumb across your bottom lip affectionately. You watched as he leaned in close, and you were almost desperate for the kiss you were anticipating, but you weren’t disappointed when instead he spit into your mouth and jerked your mouth closed himself. Fuck.
You hummed in approval and turned your attention back to his cock, leaning over his tip and slowly letting both yours and his saliva drip onto his flushed length before taking it into your mouth once again. His thighs were tense under your palms and you braced yourself, trying to go lower, but you gagged around his length without getting barely more than half his length inside. You tore off of him and coughed slightly.
“Maybe it is too big for you,” Jaemin sighed with fake sympathy, his hand lazily reaching up to caress your cheek. You relaxed into his hand for a second, your face leaning into his touch, but you were interrupted as his hand moved to roughly grab your face. You were practically dripping onto the bed. “What are you going to do with such a big cock?”
“I’ll take it like a good girl,” you answered instantly, your words a bit muffled from the hold he had on your cheeks, and he groaned at your words.
Jaemin had heard enough, and he disregarded the blowjob you were giving him so he could switch your positions. You nearly screamed when he thrusted two fingers into you, curling them deliciously. Your legs twitched as he pumped them slowly but deeply into you, the loud sounds coming from your dripping pussy resonating about the room embarrassingly. The music from downstairs was muffled but it felt like a soundtrack to whatever movie you and Jaemin were living in together, fucking each other like it was love when you had only just learned the other’s name.
“So fucking wet,” he growled, his thumb moving up to rub your clit as his fingers sped up. He was a bit sloppy as his finger slipped around your bud, but his touch was intoxicating as he brought you closer to your impending climax. You were so sensitive that it was no surprise.
“Jaemin, fuck,” you moaned as he scissored his fingers inside of you, surely stretching you out for what was coming next. Jaemin was so good, but he went one step further as he leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud and laving over it repeatedly. His bangs tickled your skin as he hovered over you, and you let one hand go from the sheets so you could brush his hair back and bunch it in your grip.
“Cum for me, Y/n. I want you to cum on my fingers,” he spoke around your breast, shifting to move to the other as he rubbed your clit harder. Your eyes squeezed shut, Jaemin humming in satisfaction as your walls clamped around his hands as he slowed his thrusts down.
“That’s it,” His mouth and fingers left you as you layed there, recovering. Your head was nearly spinning and you had yet to open your eyes, but they shot open when Jaemin trapped your clit in his mouth, sucking hard.
“Jaemin! Oh my fucking god,” you moaned, but he didn’t let up as he enjoyed the way your bud pulsed lightly on his tongue. Your hands were woven into his soft hair, your back arching and your thighs attempting to close around his head. He stopped, growling and using his strong arms to pry your legs open further than they were before.
“Stay fucking still,” he demanded, diving down and shoving his tongue into your entrance, gathering all the arousal and cum from your leaking hole. Jaemin moaned at your taste, traveling as deep as possible just so he could swallow it all down.
You were twitching pathetically by the time he was satisfied, your pussy covered more in his spit than your juices like he owned it. Maybe he did.
“So pretty,” he murmured, but you weren’t sure if he was talking about you or your cunt as his eyes darted between the two. You rested your hands over your head, staring up at his handsome face bashfully, and he let out the most adorable giggle as he moved back up to you. He grabbed your hands, kissing your knuckles. “Fucking cute. What am I going to do with you?”
He chuckled as you bucked your hips up to meet his painfully hard cock, getting the message. Jaemin prayed to whoever’s room this was as he opened the drawer to the nightstand. With some kind of godsent luck he grabbed one of the foil packages and tore it open with his teeth, fumbling the condom between his moist fingers before you sighed and grabbed it from him.
“Not to be impatient, but I need you. Right now,”
Your tone was demanding and urgent, sparking Jaemin with intense need. “I think I’m in love with you,” he blurted, and even though it was clearly a joke, both of your hearts paused for a split second at the word thrown so casually. The feeling was mutually ignored. Jaemin couldn’t even chastise himself over his stupid word choice when you were looking up at him like that, with your glassy eyes and parted lips.
You got the condom on with ease, Jaemin’s face flushing with fleeting embarrassment.
He pumped his cock in his large, veiny hand as he lined his head up with your entrance, breaching your entrance with just the very tip. Your hands ventured to his back, feeling the sharpness of his shoulder blades as you ran your fingertips across. He shuddered at the way you touched him so delicately, but his gaze hardened and he focused back on shoving his cock into you.
He went slowly but it still felt impossible to accommodate his length, his girth seeming to expand the lower you got on his cock. You whined and pressed your hands to his abs, and he paused for a moment wondering if you wanted him to stop. His entire demeanor shifted.
“Are you okay, princess?” he asked, reaching a hand up to brush the strands of hair falling over your face.
“I’m okay,” you whispered, pecking his lips, and Jaemin groaned as you clenched around him, his length nearly entirely inside of you.
“Just a bit more,”
You were relieved when his skin finally met yours, and for a moment you reveled in the feeling of him bottomed out inside of you. He was stretching you out just as much as you thought he would, the burning sensation slightly painful but incredibly addicting. From the look on his face you figured Jaemin was doing more than just enjoying it, too.
Jaemin sat up a bit more so he had more control over his movements, gripping your hips in his sweaty hands so he could slowly slide in and out of your scorching heat. His lips were pursed and he was breathing heavily out of his nose, something he would do to get a grip on himself when it felt too fucking good.
“My baby’s never been taken care of, huh? This tight little pussy was just asking to be fucked,” Jaemin noticed how sensitive you were to every inch he pumped into you, and he almost felt sorry as you whined at the size of his cock. With how hard you squeezed around him, he couldn’t help but love it just the same.
There was something about the way Jaemin looked at you that got you impossibly more aroused, the intensity of his gaze proving to get you all hot and bothered inside. It felt like your insides were twisting from both his dick and the butterflies he gave you, a dehumanizing combination as you laid there at the mercy of him. As he began to pick up the pace your moans got louder, spurring him on as they turned into screams of pleasure.
“You like it that much?”
“I love it. Love your cock so much,” you cried, your back arching into his thrusts. Your walls were stretching nearly beyond their limit as he forced his cock into you over and over again, and your body felt like it was levitating right off the bed. Jaemin’s head spun at the sight of you in such intense pleasure. On a whim of spontaneity, he pulled his cock out of you.
“Hands and knees,” he spoke, and he didn’t mean to sound so demanding, but the deep gruffness of his voice gave a different impression. He was surprised when you whimpered, flipping over obediently and displaying your ass to him.
“Oh?” he perked up, grabbing your ass and spreading you open so he could properly see your wet cunt, your hole clenching sporadically around nothing but air. “I didn’t know you could be this messy. So beautiful. Everything about you,”
Jaemin used one hand to guide his length back to your pussy, but instead of entering into you like you hoped he would, he opted to slide himself in between your dripping folds teasingly. His cock slid up to the curve of your ass and it rested so heavily against your skin.
“Jaemin,” you whined, dragging his name out. “Please,”
“Please what?” he asked, but when you opened your mouth to reply the tip of his cock caught on the hood of your clit, sending an intense pang of pleasure up your body. You couldn’t speak as your mouth dropped open, your upper body collapsing as you pressed your cheek into the soft sheets. He tsked disapprovingly, his hand immediately threading through your hair as he used it to pull you up. You caught yourself on your hands, your back now arching up as he continued rocking his length against your folds.
“Please fuck me,” you answered, your body tingling with excitement at his roughness. You really, truly couldn’t have asked for a better outcome from coming to this party. Truthfully, Jaemin was too needy himself to delay this any longer, your answer good enough for him to sink back into you. He could make you beg more later, another time, he thought.
The new angle gave him an impossibly deeper reach into your cunt, hitting a certain spot inside of you that made you cry out. Jaemin was perfect, you thought. Perfect face, perfect body, perfect cock. And now you were close to having a second orgasm in the bed of a stranger. In a house you’ve never been to, at a party filled with faces you barely knew. It was all so exciting.
“I’m going to cum,” you panted, your words a bit choked as your head was still tugged back. Jaemin took it as his cue to reach down and rub your clit earnestly, wanting to give you your release before he reached his own.
“Mmh, so good for me,” he hummed, clenching his teeth at the way your walls were tightening around him. You were so close, just a bit more.
Jaemin’s thrusts had slowed and he wasn’t hammering into you anymore, instead giving slow, hard thrusts that brought a new form of pleasure. It was just what you needed in order to reach your climax.
“Jaemin, fuck. Shit,” you moaned, lewd sounds coming from both your mouth and your pussy. He released your hair and you collapsed back into the pillows, your hips pushing back into him as you came down from your peak. You weren’t sure if a second or an hour had passed when Jaemin then pulled his length out of you, using his grip on your hips to flip you onto your back once again.
You were looking up at him with a fucked out expression, and Jaemin decided that you had had enough for tonight. He moved to leave the bed but you whined, and he turned back to you and your pouty eyes.
“You haven’t cum yet,” you complained, spreading your legs to display your weeping cunt to him. Jaemin had little self control around you yet he shook his head.
“It’s alright, this was more than enough. I’m going to clean you up, okay?”
His thoughtfulness only made you want him even more.
Jaemin ignored his painful erection and turned away, nearing the bathroom door when his movements halted from the sound of a whiny moan. His gaze shot toward you and you were laying in the sheets, two fingers stuffed in your pussy. You were coaxing him. You were desperate.
Your eyes were closed from the overstimulation, and you didn’t know Jaemin had approached you until he grabbed your arm and ripped your touch away. You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress your victorious smile.
“Such a fucking brat,” Jaemin growled, pinning both your arms above your head with only one hand. You were defenseless like this and he knew it. “You want my cum that bad. So badly you’ll make me mad,” He tutted at you disapprovingly.
“You want to act like a cumslut?” Jaemin no longer wasted any time, ramming his length into you in one smooth thrust. You keened, in love with the fact that this was his second time entering you, yet you weren’t quite adjusted to his size. “I’ll fuck you like one,”
You regretted nothing as Jaemin pounded into you over and over again, your body moving both up and deeper into the mattress from the sheer force of his thrusts. He wasn’t gentle with you anymore, not that he was before, but his intensity now paled what you thought was his version of rough.
And you thought he made you feel good before? This time, you were sure you would never forget him and his—special set of skills.
Jaemin’s stamina was quite impressive, chasing his own high. You could feel him everywhere. In your cunt, your chest, even the tips of your toes as they curled. You were screaming into the open air, and Jaemin found it in him to kiss you as if it would quiet you. But who was he kidding. He wanted the entire party to hear you as he fucked you into a stupid, blabbering mess.
“Fuck, you’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” Jaemin taunted, noting the way you clenched around him. “I’m too generous. Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum. Or maybe I’ll make you cum again. And again, and then one more time, until you’re begging me to stop,”
You couldn’t speak, you could barely even breathe, but you forced your eyes open and met his own, and then you did something that nearly threw Jaemin off the bed. You had the audacity to smile, even throwing in a bubbly, infectious laugh as if he weren’t balls deep inside of you. Huh, you sure knew how to surprise him. He liked that.
He actually loved it, but he figured it wouldn’t make a difference.
It did.
Jaemin sustained his pace and it wasn’t until you were teetering dangerously over the edge did you feel him begin to twitch inside of you. Sweat dripped down his face and his bangs sat attractively on his forehead, framing his beautiful features. For a moment you realize you’d forgotten how handsome Jaemin really was, and for much longer you realized how genuinely infatuated you were with him, somewhere far past the sexual level. It was scary. So scary that you pushed it to the back of your mind so it wouldn’t distract you any longer.
“I’m close,” he groaned out, his hand reaching down to your clit to ensure you both reached your peaks one last time. It only took one flick of his index finger on your swollen bud for you to come undone, your cunt wrapping so tightly around his cock Jaemin could barely bring himself to move. He just wanted to relish in the warmth.
He looked down at you just as you looked up at him, and the eye contact felt much more intimate than it probably should have.
His cum shot into the condom yet you could feel every twitch of his length inside of you. His breathing was ragged and you felt a sick satisfaction knowing he was just as fucked out as you were.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he praised, looking down at his softening cock and seeing the white creamy cum you left on his covered dick as a trace of your arousal. He had to look away before he got painfully hard again.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmured to you, and you lowered your hips back onto the bed as you heard him open the door to the bathroom. You heard the faucet running before his footsteps approached again, and you turned over to watch him struggle pulling his underwear back up whilst holding a dripping wet cloth in one of his hands. You giggled at his disdain. He eventually got them up and walked back over to the bed, and you hummed in appreciation as he cleaned you up, the unexpected aftercare giving you another reason to like this boy. When he was finished, he comically tossed the dirtied towel onto the desk across the room, uncaring if both of your cum was on the table.
“What time is it?” you asked him as he crawled into bed next to you. He pulled you into his chest and yawned.
“Time to go to sleep,”
You sighed, searching the room for some sort of clock, and on the desk there was an expensive looking computer that was dim with the time and date softly lit on the sleeping device, the time reading past midnight.
“I have to go. My roommate is expecting me back,”
“No you don’t,” Jaemin groaned, hugging you even tighter. He was warm against your back and you considered staying there forever, but you did not want Hina to barge into a house of sleeping, drunk frat boys looking for you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, twisting in his hold to face him. You caressed your hand over his cheek, combing through his hair and down to his neck. “Jaemin, you can’t be asleep already,”
“I was hoping if I faked it you would stay,” he whispered, his eyes finally opening and he sighed, sitting up. He was the first to stand and he offered a hand out to you as you followed after him, the both of you redressing in the clothes scattered about the floor.
“Can I keep these?” he asked, holding up your lace panties like a trophy. You looked at him, appalled.
“Why?”
“Think of it as a warranty. If you want these back, that means I’ll be seeing you again,” You chuckled at him, but you reached your hand out expectantly. He reluctantly gave it back.
“Thank you sir,” you said, but as you reached out to grab it Jaemin grabbed your hand and pulled you into him instead. You had no time to adjust yourself as he kissed you ferociously, a clash of teeth and intensity. Something slid against your chest as Jaemin shoved some sort of paper into the top of your dress, biting your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away.
“You know, the boys and I don’t stay in one place for very long,” Jaemin sighed, buttoning his pants and haphazardly fixing his hair. “Don’t be a stranger, got it? I’m expecting full compensation for my generosity—” It was your turn to cut him off as you kissed him, softer that time, savoring the feeling of the gentle kiss. You both melted into one another, falling even faster.
“So are you going to, like, give me your number or something?” you asked, but Jaemin surprisingly shook his head. He must’ve seen the disappointment practically exuding out of you, but he only smiled and pet your hair affectionately.
“I believe that those who are meant to be in my life will appear on their own. Or maybe I just love the chase,” Jaemin explained, and the look in his eyes told you to believe him. To trust him. “I’ll find you again, Y/n,”
“Well then, goodnight, Na Jaemin,” you called as you slowly slipped away from his touch, then his presence, until you walked out of the room with a stupid, gleeful smile stretched wide on your face. You pulled the paper out from your bra and laughed knowingly as you unfolded the amateur band poster.
Hello Future: The Band
Want us at a gig? Hit us up. We can drive.
Jaemin was left alone in the room, and he closed the door shut behind you and collapsed onto the mattress, the smell of your perfume encasing him. He stared up at the ceiling, the same goofy grin plastered on his face as well.
Jaemin was convinced you were different. There was something about you that made him feel something he couldn’t shake, but it was quite possibly the most euphoric, thrilling emotion he’d ever experienced. He’d never looked so forward to seeing a hookup again, if that’s what he could call you. He’d never been completely sober after one of these stupid frat parties, either.
He couldn’t get you out of his fucking head. Not that he minded much.
------------------------------
Jaemin was gone the next morning. It hadn’t been the plan to leave so soon, but the band was called back by their producer. Something about putting some new music out.
You continued living your life without much of its normalcy being disrupted, but you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t think about a certain black haired bassist from time to time. And, okay, maybe you searched up his band’s socials. Jaemin didn’t seem to have a personal account, though, which you were quite disappointed about.
“Yeah, they’re pretty popular on the college party scene,” Hina said distractedly as she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, your older roommate much more acquainted with the boys’ reputation than you. It didn’t stop you from asking, but you left a few key details of that night to keep to yourself. “I heard they get paid a lot, too. Why were you asking?”
“Just thought they were cool,” you replied nonchalantly. “You know how I am with music,”
Hina hummed in reply. “I’m pretty sure Yangyang knows them. Probably produced a song for them once or twice. You should probably ask him, if you’re really interested,”
And ask Yangyang you did.
“Are you really using me as a mutual friend right now?” he chastised, shaking his head as you trailed behind him like a sad puppy.
“Oh, please, Yangyang. You should be glad I’m even speaking to you right now!”
“Says the girl I had to drag out of bed after a massive hangover. I could’ve gotten kicked out if someone saw me on the girls’ floor. The things I do for you,”
You sped up a little and parked yourself in front of the boy, forcing him to halt his steps. You rubbed your hands together pleadingly but only as a last resort.
“If you have his number, I swear I will do anything,”
“Anything?” the boy pondered, rubbing his chin in exaggerated interest. You slapped his hand away. “Ouch. What’s got you so interested in Jaemin anyway? Is it the tattoo? I bet it’s the tattoo—“
“I swear Yangyang, I’m about to tattoo a hand mark on your left ass cheek if you don’t—“
“My gosh! Keep you and your hands away from my money makers. I don’t even have his number, anyway. I do have Haechan’s, though. The vocalist with the killer voice,”
“That’ll barely get me anywhere!”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you. I’ll see you at the gig tonight though, yeah?”
“Whatever. See? This is why you owe me,”
“Of course, my beloved friend,”
“Shut up. It’s too early for this,”
~
You were dressed to impress and by the time you had finished your makeup you realized all too late that you were running short on time. Yangyang was going to run your ear off if you weren’t punctual.
“Have fun!” Hina called after you, hyping you up as you left the room stumbling to get your heels on.
The club was dark, shadows packing every corner you could see through the entrance as you approached. You gave a dazzling smile to the familiar bouncer, Johnny, who gave you a fleeting grin, jutting his chin toward the side of the building before checking another ID.
“There she is!” someone cheered just as you opened the door. Karina rushed up and wrapped her arms around you, the subtle scent of something sickeningly sweet encasing you.
“Is it a pregame kind of night, Rina?” you chuckled, parting from your friend and sitting yourself in front of one of the vanity mirrors. The lighting aided you as you touched your makeup one last time, glancing at the clock and knowing the shift was about to begin.
You carried a tray of empty martinis, balancing it on your forearm as you weaved your way through the tables. You approached the bar and knocked twice, signaling Doyoung’s attention.
“Looking hot, Y/n” he teased, tossing you a napkin to dab on your sweaty forehead.
“I’m about to get a lot more sweaty soon,” you sighed. Just as you finished, a majority of the large room grew pitch black as all of the fluorescent lights pointed toward the stage. They always put together the DJ set the nights you and your friends were scheduled, Yangyang standing behind the table as he spoke about the night only just beginning.
There were cheers throughout the crowd as you made your way up to the stage, giving the crowd an endearing smile as you, Karina and Yeji got into formation. Yangyang pressed a button and the music came to life, and you danced like you always did—like you had bills to pay.
After finishing your performance the three of you scrambled to collect the money scattering the floor, giving a quick wave and blowing a few kisses before sauntering off the stage and back into the dressing rooms. Yeji counted every bill and split it evenly between the three of you, satisfied with the amount.
“It was a good night,” Karina commented, fanning her bills in her face with a smile.
“That’s because they went crazy for your little solo,” you joked. “Anyways, I have to go. Don’t spend it all tonight, okay?”
Your best friends only scoffed at you, giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you stuffed the money in your bag and walked out. Just as you were about to approach Johnny and make small talk, a man stopped you in your tracks. You looked between him and Johnny with caution, but your friend had already noticed, inching toward you slowly but intimidatingly.
“Hello! I would like to introduce myself. My name is Park Yeojin and I work for a film studio,” he handed you his business card, and you took it.
“Uh, I’m Y/n,” you replied. He took your name in stride as he continued.
“I’m actually in town on vacation, and I surely wasn’t planning to talk business while going out to the club with my friends, but I truly think you’re amazing. Stunning, really. Anyways, one of my business partners is shooting a music video, and I think you would be perfect as the starring role,”
Johnny shot you a thumbs up with an amused expression as he backed off. You glanced down at the contact info in your hands. SM Filming Studios. Huh, seems legit enough.
“Will I be getting paid?” you questioned, feeling embarrassed when the man simply laughed.
“Oh honey, have you not heard of SM before? You’ll be paid generously, I’m sure,” he explained, adjusting his glasses, and you took notice of the expensive looking watch on his wrist. “The artists that hire us are household names, but you’ll be shooting with an up-and-coming group,”
He leaned in closer, a smile on his face. “I think you’ll take a liking to them. Will you think about it and give me a call in the next couple of days? I anticipate that the film will be shot sometime next week,”
“I sure will, Mr. Park,”
~
“SM Film Studios. Please state your business,”
“Hi,” you answered nervously. “I was hoping I could speak with Mr. Park Yeojin?”
“I’ll see if he’s in a meeting. Could I have your name, please?”
“Y/n,”
“Thank you, if you could stay on the line—“ the receiver went dead for a moment, a popular radio song sounding. You had done some research on the company in hopes it would help you make your decision, so you were aware that this song was one that they had worked on.
“Y/n! Pleasure to hear from you,” a voice boomed, one you recognized. “Here to bring me good news, right?”
“Of course,” you grinned. “I’m on board with the project, if the offer still stands,”
“Thank goodness! I took a gamble on you, you know. I convinced my coworker not to hold auditions, telling him that he needed to trust me that you were worth waiting for,” You were flattered by all of his praise, and it gave you a boost of confidence. You had doubted if you were worth this big-shot company’s time.
“So, when do we start?” you asked. Being a college student, it was pretty easy to travel somewhere for a few days (as long as you forced Yangyang to take notes for you while you were gone).
“Oh, that’s right. I’ll be needing to hand you over to Changmin for this. He’ll be the director and PD for the shoot. I’ll be giving him your information to contact you and I’ll go ahead and send the electronic paperwork over,”
“Thank you so much!” you gushed, providing your email address before hanging up. Your heart was racing and you were excited. Maybe this was the first step you needed to pursue a career in the entertainment business.
You got Mr. Park’s message with the contracts and liability waivers, signing them quickly and sending them back. Your phone pinged and you checked it anxiously.
Hello Y/n, this is Yoon Changmin. I hate to spring this on you fairly last-minute, but we are going to be shooting in our own studios. You should be able to access the address on our website, and there’ll be someone at the security gate to escort you to the correct place. Thank you, see you tomorrow.
Tomorrow?
—---------------------------
You put your life on hold to make it to the set, not really sure what to wear, so you settled on something similar to what you might’ve worn to an audition. You pulled up in Karina’s car, your friend kindly letting you borrow it for the day, approaching the front gate after nearly an hour and a half of driving.
“Name please?” the man asked, glancing down at his clipboard when you gave it. “Alrighty, that man over there in the gold cart will lead the way. Just follow him and park in one of the guest stalls,”
“Thank you so much,” you smiled, rolling your window back up and heading through the opening gate. It was easy enough to find parking, but you were quite nervous once you got out of the car.
“Y/n! So nice to finally meet you,” a man spoke, approaching you with a black cap on his head. “I’m Changmin. We’re going to be sending you to the choreographer very quickly before we have the stylists work on you. You’re going to have to pick it up quickly,” he explained, walking with you toward the large building. You entered a small studio where the choreographer was waiting.
“Hello, please warmup however you can. We’re going to need to go over this quickly,”
You barely stretched before she insisted you started. “Alright, the boys in the group already learned the choreography, but you’ll only be dancing with one of them. We’re going to run a few screen tests once they arrive, seeing who you look best with. As of right now, Mr. Yoon is thinking that Lee Jeno will be best,”
You nodded, staying professional. Lee Jeno? The group must be fairly new, because you didn’t seem to know who they were.
The choreographer led you through the dance, helping you with the partner work and running the music with you. It was a nice song, but it was slower and more sensual, so you knew you had to match that energy with your moves. It was a good thing you worked in the night club so often, but then again, that must be why you were scouted in the first place.
“Amazing! Wonderful job, Y/n. You’re going to be the star of this video,” she gushed, leading you out the doorway and toward the vanity tables in another room. You froze, though, when you heard someone call your name. You turned around, your jaw dropping to the floor.
“Jaemin?”
“Uh, do you guys know each other?” one of the four spoke, his dirty blond hair ruffled a bit about his head. You made eye contact with the sheepish Jaemin, telling him with your eyes to say something.
“Yeah! We met at the party earlier last week. How are you?” he explained, approaching you alone and slinging an arm around your shoulders. You gawked at him in shock as he began walking the two of you the opposite direction, speaking to you when you were out of ear shot.
“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” you gasped, laughing as you gave him a tight hug. He reciprocated, his grasp tight.
“I should be the one asking you. This is my band’s music video, you know,”
Realization set in. You couldn’t believe now that you had never asked who the artists actually were. You had no idea Hello Future were full blown artists like this, but then again, based on their social media following, maybe you should’ve figured it out on your own. Jaemin was watching you like he still couldn’t believe you were really standing in front of him.
“So, uh, I was recruited by one of the SM studio employees when they watched one of my performances back at my home job,” you explained, giving him the entire story about how Mr. Park had approached you and set everything up. He looked impressed, about to say something, when he was interrupted.
“Where are Jaemin and Y/n? We need to get them ready and get the ball rolling!” Mr. Yoon called out, Jaemin giving you a wink before the two of you jogged into the dressing room.
The outfit the stylist picked out for you was simple—an all red ensemble and excessively chunky boots. You emerged from behind the curtains and saw the boys each had their own outfits, black leather and denim gracing their attractive features. One glance over Jaemin and you had to wipe the drool from your chin.
“Alright, we’re going to begin filming everyone! Wait—boys! Eyes and ears here, please,” Mr. Yoon demanded, everyone turning to look at the four as they snapped their heads around from you to him. You snickered to yourself, watching them trying to brush it off. “For our staff, this song is called It Felt Like the World. It’ll be pretty steamy, I admit, but it’s all for the cameras right?”
You could feel Jaemin’s stare without even glancing at him.
“We’re going to begin with the instrumental shots, so hopefully Y/n can go over the choreography a bit more. Don’t worry hun, you’ll do amazing,” Mr. Yoon encouraged, giving you a smile before settling back into his authoritative persona. Your choreographer approached kindly as the boys left for the huge red backdrop that already had an impressive stage and their instrumental set up. As you went over your choreography you heard several directions come from where they were filming, the drummer marking the 4-count before they began playing the song in real time. You paused for a moment and simply watched them, amazed by their passion. You watched them play the entire song, grinning at the fact that Jaemin took the lead vocal on the last four lines. When they hit the last beat and strummed the last note, Jaemin met your piercing gaze and smiled, snapping you back into reality as you bashfully turned away.
“That was great guys! We might come back to this and film a couple more times but our cameramen need to reconstruct the blocking before we do. For now let’s decide on the male lead. Uh, any volunteers?”
All the boys’ hands shot up immediately.
“Okay then, uh, Yerin, could you consult with me?” he called to your choreographer, the two of them muttering to each other before he clapped his hands together and readdressed you all. “Well, Yerin thinks Jeno is best fit, so we’re going to feel it out and see what happens,” he concluded, and you looked over to see the drummer smile shyly. Ah, so this was Jeno. You were quite disappointed that it wasn’t Jaemin, but letting it affect your performance would simply be unprofessional.
“We’re going to take five then film in set C,”
You approached Jaemin as his band mates dispersed, watching him pout slightly.
“If I’m the one who actually knows you, shouldn’t it be me?” he scoffed softly, making sure no one else overheard. You sighed with a smile on your face.
“If it means anything, I was really hoping it would be you,” you replied, satisfied with the glow in his eyes. Jaemin was utterly tempted to touch you, maybe even kiss you, but this was no place for that.
“It’s just that the lyrics are pretty—how do I say this—suggestive? I have a feeling you’re going to be putting on quite the show with Jeno,” he spat, jealousy rolling off of him in waves. Cute.
“Jeno, Y/n, come here for a sec. We have to talk the beginning scene,”
“That’s my cue,” you sighed, blowing him a little kiss as you walked over to Yerin and Mr. Yoon near set C. It was a fake bedroom, decorated to seem like one of the four actually lived in it. There were posters, the floor littered with some shoes and vinyls, an amp in the corner and a guitar hanging on the wall.
“Okay, you guys are really going to have to channel your acting skills here. You two are supposed to be in love, but connected here in a bit of a sexual way. You’re both each other’s world. Convince us,” Mr. Yoon explained, your palms sweating. “Maybe do a bit of improvisation for us before we start filming. Give us something sexy, Jeno maybe you could dip into her neck for a close up shot,”
You and Jeno turned to each other, Yerin and the director stepping out of the set and watching the two of you as you slowly approached the boy. He was extremely attractive, sure, but there was only one boy in your mind, and he was watching from the side.
Jeno’s hands were a bit awkward as he grabbed your hips, pulling you closer as he avoided eye contact with you.
“Look at her, Jeno! She’s your lover, not some stranger,”
That was funny considering you actually were a stranger. Jeno looked into your eyes and took a calming breath, leaning forward and brushing his lips against your neck.
“Okay, that’s better. Y/n, could you close your eyes?”
You obeyed, finding that it was much easier to imagine it was Jaemin against you when you did so. Suddenly your fantasy was interrupted when Mr. Yoon’s voice made the both of you jump.
“You have to move, Jeno. This isn’t a picture, this is a video!” Mr. Yoon sighed exasperatedly, rubbing his eyebrows in frustration. “Here, let me see. Jaemin, you’re standing here, why don’t we try that?”
Your heart leaped with joy at his words. It was like the stars aligned perfectly for you. But then Jeno pulled away and gave you a subtle wink, and you realized it wasn’t luck that paired you and Jaemin together—they had planned all of this. You were sure if Mr. Yoon had vouched for any of the other three, they would have performed just as badly. Sneaky bastards, but praise them.
Jaemin walked onto the set immediately, grabbing you by the waist as he looked down at you.
“Yes! That’s it! Lean into him more Y/n, there you go. Yes, Yes!” Mr. Yoon clapped his hands together excitedly, Yerin giving the two of you a pointed smirk as she seemed to have caught on herself. “This is exactly what I imagined. Lights, get over here and shine some ‘sunlight’ through the window!”
Mr. Yoon was so thrilled he was jumping all over the place, barking orders at his staff as they scrambled to create the perfect setting. Jaemin turned back to you and leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“We won’t have to act at all, baby. This’ll be a breeze,” You couldn’t argue with that, pulling away as a few of the stylists rushed over to give the two of you a few touch ups before the cameras would begin rolling.
“Okay, we’re going to start off with the pan on Jaemin’s face. Get a little closer, a little more, perfect! Okay, and… Action!”
Jaemin approached you slowly, a dark look in his eyes as he gripped you by the waist and let you wrap your arms around his neck. He leaned in close and you felt his breath fan your skin. You shuddered in a way only noticeable to him, Jaemin’s smirk crawling over your neck as he moved to kiss it slowly.
The rest of the shoot was, as he put it, a breeze.
———————————————
jaemin<3: hey gorgeous
jaemin<3: SM sent us the final draft of the mv, and they said i could send it to you
jaemin<3: it came out great, all thanks to you
jaemin<3: video attachment
Jaemin had asked for your number at the end of the shooting day, insisting that he was now convinced that the universe had given him enough signs. You two had been texting and calling each other ever since. You clicked on the video link and turned up your volume, the music flooding your empty dorm.
[a/n, please get your music apps out and play “It Felt Like the World” by DYSN]
Adventure
The first shot was of you, a close up of your winding body as you danced in the center of a cluster of extras. The film was edited in slow motion, the colorful lights basking your face in an artificial glow as your intentionally smudged makeup caught light in the frame.
Down your body, adventure
The scene cuts abruptly to you and Jaemin in “his bedroom”. He was descending his lips down your clothed body, the camera following his movements as his head eclipsed the light coming in from the window.
Before the next line Jaemin could be seen in the club himself, pushing through the sea of bodies with his eyes trained on the camera—trained on you.
She said, “Don’t stop unless I tell you, tell you,”
You had been instructed to lip sync to the lyrics in real time, your glossy lips mouthing the words as you were dancing with Jaemin. The two of you put on the choreography well, moving as one against each other. It was steamy, his hands trailing down your body as you slinked around him like a snake.
But you ain’t said a word
Not a word
Things took a turn, as you expected, the scene of you pushing Jaemin backwards in his room as he stumbled, stunned. You two appeared to be arguing about something—well, more like you were yelling at him and he couldn’t get any words out. It was a depiction of a guy that couldn’t fight for his relationship.
You were walking toward the door furiously when he grabbed onto your arm desperately. He turned you around and pulled you close, his lips trailing down your neck feigning apology as the camera followed. Your face contorted with conflicting thoughts.
Then she whispered, “kiss me”
Your eyes were borderline teary, Jaemin pulling back to look into them.
“Darling, kiss me, take me”
Jaemin did. He kissed you and the passion was evident through the screen. Your heart fluttered as you watched, giving you a third party view as Jaemin’s lips melded with yours. It came across as distressed, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldn’t bring himself to say.
When we were 17, it felt like the world
You two were making amends, a cultivation of smiles and laughs shared between you two. He twirled you around, you two laid in his bed as he played with your hair, you smiled at him as he caressed his nose with yours.
It felt like the world
The long instrumental took up the last half of the song, the video panning between the band and you two driving in a car together with the sunset apparent through the windows. He glanced over at you with one hand on the wheel. You caught him staring and smiled. Everything was perfect about the long, slowed clip, the two of you staring lovingly as the perspective shot from the backseat forward. He reached over to grab your hand, kissing your knuckles, and then the screen went black.
Hello Future: The Band
It Felt Like the World
You watched it twice more, fully embracing the beauty of the video. Any opportunity you had to book a gig was exciting, but this one was special, you knew, because you cherished the boy alongside you. Jaemin had guided you through the tough acting scenes, letting you feed off of his energy, taking the initiative but still letting you shine on your own.
you: wow jaem, it’s beautiful
you: the song is so wonderful, and Mr. Yoon really captured it well
The three little dots appeared immediately. Jaemin had been waiting (im)patiently for your reaction.
jaemin<3: you were the one who made it special, y/n
jaemin<3: it’ll be posted in two hours
jaemin<3: call me later, yeah? i have to go for now, i’m in a press meeting :(
you: of course. have fun!
[read: 4:02 pm]
You tossed your phone beside you on your bed, giggling like a teenage girl.
~
haechanfever127: god this music video is so beautiful. i’m so proud of the boys for making this amazing song!
jenojam: wow~ to be this girl!
renjuniiee: i’m a new fan after listening to this song. it’s all over the radio, and it’s almost getting overplayed (not that it ever could lol)
You were scrolling through the comments under the video, a week after its release. You were incredibly giddy about the whole thing. You convinced yourself that maybe this was finally your shot, and you were unbelievably happy for the boys. The song was topping charts worldwide.
luvforjaem: i wonder if this song was written about jaemin’s girlfriend. weird that she wasn’t the one in the video, though.
You froze, staying on that comment for a long while as you reread the words in hopes to process them. In a flash you opened your web browser and searched up “na jaemin girlfriend” (admittedly not one of your proudest moments) and was shocked by the amount of headlines that popped up. You clicked on the first one.
Breakout Band HELLO FUTURE’s Na Jaemin Spotted With Labelmate Kira Outside of Company Building
#ThingsAreGettingSteamy! #GlobalPlayboy
There was a large image attached at the very top of the article, and your heart dropped. He was wearing a black cap that covered his eyes, but the girl in the photo was unmistakably pressed against Jaemin’s body, smiling up at him with his face out of view.
You didn’t want to, but you proceeded to read the report.
By now we’ve all heard about this new global boy band. With faces that make the girls swoon, it’s no surprise that they might be in relationships! Na Jaemin, the star of their hit music video It Felt Like the World was photographed getting a bit close with fellow labelmate and established pop singer Kira outside of their company building. Reporters say they were getting touchy before Jaemin sent Kira off in a taxi. Whew, girls, what boyfriend material! They make a beautiful couple, don’t you think?
Buzz is already forming around the new pair, fans either gushing over their perfect image or sad that they couldn’t snatch him up first. What do you think? Will their relationship last? Vote below!
There was a little poll at the bottom with a YES or NO option. Always petty, you furiously tapped the NO button until the graph hauntingly revealed the overwhelming amounts of YES’s. You threw your phone across the room and screamed into your pillow.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz…
Ding! Ding!
You lifted your head and looked over at your phone sitting face down on your rug, shooting daggers into it. Reluctantly, you got off your bed and picked it up.
[1] Missed call from jaemin<3
[2] Message from jaemin<3
You scowled, tapping his notification to see what he had to say.
jaemin<3: hey, can you call me back?
jaemin<3: please
You debated for a long while, even though you knew he could see that you read his message. When he started typing again, you pressed the call button.
“Y/n?”
“What.”
He was silent for a moment.
“I’m guessing you saw the article,”
“I did,”
Jaemin sighed, his eyes squeezing shut as he thought of what to say. Did he tell you his truth, or his company’s truth? He didn’t know.
“Are you upset with me?” he asked, hoping that if you were, it would be worth it to tell you straight up. Maybe, he thought, he could find a reason.
You were silent for a while—for too long. You were trying to find the words to say. I mean, what could you really tell him at this point? It’s not like you two were together. Plus, now he’s dating a beautiful, talented, famous celebrity. So that smaller part of you, the one that wanted to scream at him for being with another girl when all you wanted was him, was suppressed.
“Why would I be upset? I’m sure the video’s racking up more views as we speak, Jaem,”
The affectionate name broke his heart. “I just thought—”
“You don’t have to think about anything. This is great for the band and for me. I can get more job opportunities if the video blows up, right?” you chuckled, but the conversation went dead for a moment as you both sat with bated breaths.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I hope to see you on the front page of a magazine sometime soon,” Jaemin replied. He tried to keep the defeat out of his voice when you sounded so chipper. “You’ll be miss bigtime performer and I’ll have to beg you to be in another music video,”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you sighed.
“Yeah, me too,”
When you gave your formal goodbyes and the phone call ended, you both knew there were things that had been left unsaid and feelings still lingering. Neither of you could bring yourselves to open up, and for a long while after, there were no messages and calls exchanged.
~
“You mean to tell me that you haven’t spoken to him once since then?” Yangyang asked incredulously, turning from his computer to actually look at you and digest the situation.
“Yeah,” you sighed, picking at your nails distractedly. “But I made a promise to myself never to read any articles on him for the rest of my life,”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Yangyang agreed with a nod, the sound of his video game menu filling the silence as he paused. “Do you still think about him?”
He was treading lightly with his words, but he didn’t need to.
“Sometimes,” you replied, finally looking up from your hands and giving a small, content smile. “I mean, I barely knew the guy, and what I got from the experience was far beyond just Jaemin. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it was like being on set, being around those people and how much I loved it,”
“Good for you,” he smiled. “Like, for real. I’m happy you feel that way. I don’t know if I’ll ever be as mature as you,”
“You won’t”
“Way to ruin the moment. This is what I get for being nice to you,”
~
“I hope they’re happy,” Jaemin muttered, tossing his bag down roughly as he stormed into the band’s apartment. Renjun was the only one there, Haechan and Jeno having gone off somewhere together, and the boy watched Jaemin with pity. “I hope everyone who had a part in this gets their bank account drained,”
“I’m really sorry, man. I know it’s hard right now, but maybe it’ll all work out in the end,” Renjun consoled, scooting over on the couch so Jaemin could collapse beside him. “But, Y/n really was cool,” he admitted.
Jaemin huffed in frustration, his hands running rampant over his face and through his hair. His jaw was clenched as he stared down at his feet with his head between his hands.
“Do you think it’ll be worth it?” Jaemin murmured. Renjun sighed as he leaned back, staring up at the blank ceiling.
“I sure hope so, Jaemin,” he said. “I really do,”
———————————————
3 years later
———————————————
“Well, look who it is!” someone called, and you turned toward the voice with a beaming smile. You hadn’t known she would be here.
“It’s been so long!” you chirped, reaching out and hugging Yerin. She chuckled before pulling away.
“I almost didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” she laughed, nodding toward your red strands. “I like it. It really screams: Dior’s New It-Girl,”
“Oh, stop it,” you blushed. Yerin looked like she was going to say more, but another woman approached and coaxed her away. She gave you a warm, apologetic smile before you were left alone once again. You figured it would be best to find your seat now as the venue had become much too crowded, and you knew you would have to entertain a few conversations along the way.
A couple years back, you never knew you would be sitting in the front row of an exclusive Christian Dior fashion show, but here you were. Since the music video had blown up, kickstarting your career, you’d graduated college while simultaneously juggling all the job opportunities you’d gotten. They’d started off simple, with things like small product advertisements to showcase to your growing social media following. Then you’d gotten a call from a technology company asking if you could be in their headphones commercial, then booked a gig with a video game company to be the model for one of their characters, and then, one of your favorites—being asked to fly out of the country to be part of the main cast on a travel-based reality show that just got renewed for a third season.
Eventually you found yourself here, a special guest at your fashion ambassador’s Summer Collection show, having just walked down the very same runway a few months before for their Spring Lookbook.
And you were never a fan of the press, but once in a while you’d come across an article or a magazine with your face on it, and you could never help reading the headlines.
Y/n: The Next Big Thing and Why You Should Be Paying Attention to Her.
New Hit Reality Show ‘Border Crossing’ Features a Funny, Fresh Face.
And most recently, Christian Dior’s New It-Girl.
You might know her because she’s all everyone’s been talking about, but we promise she didn’t appear out of thin air. We recently interviewed Y/n asking her about what her journey to stardom has been like. “Thrilling”, she said. “I still wake up in the morning and wonder if any of this is real,”
Well, it sure is! It seems like she’s the only one that can’t believe her own success. After a private call with a Dior team member, our reporter found that Y/n is well known in the entertainment world as being extremely professional, easy to work with, and quite charming among the staff. Just this past May, she could be seen studying for her university classes during a photoshoot! Your turn to take notes, everyone. This is how to be a multi-million dollar model, actress, and the nation’s darling.
Your on-brand dress was elegant but a bit extravagant, and you found it hard to move around as you tried your best to weed gracefully through the crowd. Your reserved seat was near the center of the right wing of chairs, on the complete opposite side of where you stood now. You were passing the entrance when a commotion came from outside.
High pitched screams could be heard and many turned their heads to watch the scene unfold, a series of cameras flashing trying to capture whoever it was approaching the building. There were shouts from the photographers but too many to make out what they were saying, and in a rush to get by, you nearly stumbled whilst crossing the bit of red carpeting that reached past the doors.
Someone grabbed your hand to steady you, and you looked up to see a familiar face.
“Woah there, we can’t have the face of the brand falling, can we?”
“Thank you, Hyunjin,”
Hwang Hyunjin was your equal, the male ambassador of the brand to match yourself in the countless campaigns that featured your high profile faces. You’d done several shoots with him before, and he was always very courteous, and had intimidated you at first with how experienced he was. He had always been a model, but with his face and talent he was able to make an enormous name for himself on social media and became one of the most sought after male models in the industry. Dior was simply able to snatch him up before anyone else could.
You gave him a grateful smile, letting his hand continue to hold yours as you subtly regained your balance. But, in a matter of seconds, the cloak of whispers from the guests around you brought you back to where you were. And when you took just one second to reestablish your surroundings, you realized someone was standing just a short length away, stopped on the red path having been blocked by you and Hyunjin.
The first thing you saw was the snake tattoo running down his neck.
Neither you or Jaemin made any reaction as you made eye contact. His black hair was kept a tad longer and he wore a simple black suit that somehow made him look intimidating, and it was the serious impression you got from him that truly made him feel like a stranger. You didn’t realize until Hyunjin led you away that you had subconsciously gripped the poor man's hand firmly.
“They sat us together, right? Let me help you,”
You vaguely heard Hyunjin speaking to you, your mind stuck in the gutter. You hadn’t seen Jaemin in years, much less within that close of a proximity. You were already lost back into the crowd and you knew looking back would be worthless, but the muscles in your neck were tingling with how badly you wanted to.
How has he been? How were the others? A million questions were racing through your mind but only one in particular resonated within you.
Does he still think about you? (Like you’ve thought about him?)
You don’t pine over him anymore, and you’re unphased when another one of the band’s hits plays on the radio, but you’ve become a different person in many ways. At random moments, on random days, you wonder if he ever follows your trail to stardom. You wonder if he sees your face on the city’s billboards, if he’s watched your show. You question if he’s proud of where you’ve gotten; if mega-popstar Na Jaemin ever reads an article and feels happy for you.
You have no time to continue fretting about the situation once Hyunjin finds your seats, and you’re forced to push the thoughts out of your head and focus on the task at hand. For the entire night there will always be a pair of eyes on you, and you must act accordingly. You're mentally switching yourself back to work-mode as the lights dim and the runway comes alive.
There’s a series of formal speeches and grateful welcomings from the designer, and soon the first model makes their way from backstage wearing the collection’s signature diamond motif print. A round of applause sounds as the fashion show is now underway.
A figure walks from across the strip of marble and it catches your attention, your resolve wavering as Jaemin takes the seat directly across from you. You’re both facing each other this way, and you don’t spare him another glance as you return your sights back on the next model. Karina struts down the aisle wearing a large, lavish hat, and it’s so big that it masks her intentional wink as she passes your seat.
Sixteen models later, and you feel the grim, horribly specific, unignorable stare. With just a fleeting glance forward, you’re able to confirm that Jaemin is not in fact watching the show. He’s too busy watching you.
“Hey,” Hyunjin whispered, leaning over to speak into your ear. “Mr. Beccari is going to be at the after party. We should probably show our faces, even just for a little while,”
You simply nodded, knowing the after parties played a key role in making connections. Anyone worth your time would be there, and even if it was exhausting, you would make an appearance.
You kept yourself fully focused on the models for the rest of the show, sparing not even a flicker of the eyes toward Jaemin for the rest of the night. You weren’t sure why you were so hostile towards him even after all these years, but making a name for yourself meant learning when not to be walked over.
The weather was nice, the outdoor venue for the post-runway show cast in a golden glow from the lights strung above the heads of the high class group mingling over champagne and appetizers. You and Hyunjin walked in together as instructed by the PR manager, letting the photographers capture the two of you gliding along arm in arm. Your red hair was left down tonight, blowing rampant but gorgeously with the light winds.
A mass of people crowded around the two of you upon your arrival, talking courteously about nothing important at all. You pasted a smile on your face and tried your best to keep your mind blank.
“Is that from the Fall 2005 collection? One of my favorites, dear,” your creative director noted, eyeing your dress with approval. She was never one to give many compliments, so you took this one with pride.
“I prefer what you wore in the spring,”
You turned to the newcomer, who was standing just over your shoulder, Jaemin’s warm hand brushing politely over your forearm before retracting just as quickly. He was smiling over at the director, but he stood impossibly close to you without any hint of second thought.
The director clapped her hands together in giddy satisfaction. “Oh, how wonderful! Our celebrity ambassadors standing together,” Your eyes widened when you processed her words, turning to Jaemin in disbelief. He’s a Dior ambassador now?
“I’m glad to be working with a friend,” Jaemin chuckled, referring to you without sparing you a glance. He led the conversation with the director for a while before she departed to take a phone call, leaving you two alone. Jaemin circled your figure until he stood in front of you, a smile on his lips that was almost insulting.
“Friend, huh?” you joked lightly, though the undertone in your statement didn’t go unnoticed. There were some murmurs sounding around the two of you, making you aware that this wasn’t just a private conversation. The two ambassadors were talking; the two of you were talking. That deserved attention.
“This is my second time seeing you tonight, and I still have yet to receive a greeting,”
“I was occupied with other matters,” you replied, your blood nearly boiling at his comment, but you couldn’t muster anything but shock at the moment. He looks good, you thought. Older. With the way you were studying him, Jaemin looked away for a second, finally a break in his indifference. You watched him swallow harshly, eating away words you’d never get to hear.
Fuck, Jaemin cursed to himself. One little look from you and he was looking for an escape.
“How is the band doing?” you asked. It was all just meaningless catching up, but maybe this was your sneaky way of asking how he was.
“Not as good as you,” he replied politely. “You’ve been everywhere,”
“I guess so,” you hummed, feeling the conversation beginning to die. Your torn heart wanted him to walk away and stay all at the same time. You wanted him to let you grab another glass of champagne but you wanted him to take you home. What was he thinking? What was going on inside of the head of a boy you never really knew, and why did it still feel like you’ve known him your entire life?
“Are you still dancing?” he asked. You were glad that he asked, but now you were convinced he didn’t keep up to date on much of your activities. You had been hired as a guest judge on a popular dance competition show just a few months back.
That was the only episode Jaemin had ever watched, but the question was just to lead into what he would say next.
“Yeah, occasionally,” you answered. Your mood had noticeably soured, but Jaemin perked up with a glimmer of hope.
“We’re recording a new album,” he explained casually, but his heart was pounding. “I think we’ll be taking the tour out of the country,”
“That’s amazing,” you commented. Your voice lacked the enthusiasm he had hoped for. Jaemin was starting to doubt himself, and once he started, he could never stop.
“Yeah, I guess so,” He cleared his throat in discomfort, looking anywhere but at you. You took it as a sign to exit the conversation.
“I’ll see you around then,” you offered, catching yourself when you overthought how you might have come across. “At these Dior events, I mean,” Jaemin only nodded and you gave him a small smile as you turned, but he spoke up in a flurry of courage before you could walk away.
“We’re looking for an opening act for the tour,” he blurted, his fist clenching at his side in embarrassment for what he’d said. You paused with your head down for a moment, hearing the offer he had subtly given, turning back to him with a fleeting grin.
“Well, I hope you find one,”
You excused yourself first.
———————————————
You never thought you would stoop this low. You’d never wanted to find yourself in this position, sitting on your bed, staring down at your phone like an immature kid. Your finger was hovering over the follow button, Jaemin’s profile picture staring at you as if he was judging you, too.
You bit your lip, unnecessary stress filling you, and you went over the pros and cons.
Pros: He could follow you back.
Cons: He could not follow you back.
Okay, maybe this was immensely stupid. You grit your teeth, your eyes squinting as you winced, your finger tapping the screen as the blue bar turned white. The world seemed to stop for a moment, until you shut your phone off and pounced to the other side of the bed like it had burned you. You couldn’t bear to look over at the device, groaning with regret.
He has millions of followers. He’s never going to see yours. And even if he did, he might not even decide to follow you back! He only follows twenty two people. The odds did not seem to be in your favor.
Ding!
You reached your phone with alarming speed, the notification flooding your senses.
na.jaemin0813 followed you.
You screamed into your pillow. In private, of course. You hoped this entire experience would be forgotten by you so no one on the planet would know it had ever happened.
Somehow, just seconds after he followed you, you received an influx of followers who all seemed to come from his profile. You received likes and comments, too.
bobajaem08: new girlfriend?? O.o
→ hellofuture444: isn’t she the one from the IFLTW mv?
→ heychan_: does that mean they still keep in touch?
→ fashion1sta: don’t you know? they’re both Dior ambassadors now
Ding!
DIOR brand ambassadors!
Link to article
Hello Future’s Na Jaemin Has Recently Become a Part of the Dior Family, Alongside Old Friend Y/N.
Can you think of a timeline better than this? We sure can’t. Na Jaemin, popular bassist from the global band Hello Future has recently been announced as a brand ambassador for Dior, alongside company favorite, Y/n.
Remember the hit It Felt Like the World? Well, that was when the pair first met! According to inside sources from the music video’s production team, sparks were flying on the set all those years ago! Does this call for a rekindling between the now global mega-stars? Two single, attractive individuals… subscribe to our newsletter to get the latest news on celebrity love life! You might just receive breaking news on developments between the two.
Do you think there’s a chance for romance between these hot celebs? Vote down below!
“Old friend”? What a load of shit. You hadn’t spoken to the guy for three years until that night, and there were already romance rumors flying about. You knew this was a part of being in the spotlight, but it still felt strange as you stared at the photo. (You two did look good together, though.)
You hadn’t kept up with Jaemin’s love life since your falling out, so this was really the first time it was confirmed to you that he was single. Not that it meant anything to you. Right? Right.
A few hours later you’d gotten a call from your agent, something about how you were blowing up since the rumors started coming about.
“This might be good for us,” she urged, despite knowing what had happened between the two of you. You and Sooyoung were very close, and she’d been taking care of you for years. “You should repost his story, spark some more conversation,”
“What story?” you asked, pulling the phone away from your ear and clicking around to find his profile. You’d gotten so many notifications in the last couple of hours that you must have skipped over this one. It was a photo of a Dior package he must have received as a gift from the company with some words down at the bottom.
So excited to be a part of such an amazing brand. Thank you @Dior and @Y/n for welcoming me into the family. <3
You were tagged in this story. Repost?
“You can choose to do whatever you want, but it would be best if you let it be known to the public that you two are friends,” Sooyoung explained. You sighed in contemplation.
~
“Okay, what about this? ‘Falling in and out of love and falling in again’... Does that even make any sense?”
Haechan and Renjun were going over some melodies and lyrics—Jeno taking a nap in the corner—while Jaemin was scrolling mindlessly on his phone.
“Hey, lover boy, we need to finish the first verse. And seeing as you have some new inspiration—ow!” Jaemin had thrown a chip right for Haechan’s head, the boy shooting him a deadly look but popping it into his mouth just to spite him.
Jaemin’s phone buzzed but he didn’t glance at it yet, staring off into space as he went over the melody. He knew what he wanted to say through this song, and apparently it would be one he would receive many lines for. This was going to be, simply put, Jaemin’s song on the album. He got up and walked over to the two, grabbing the notebook and scrawling a couple lines.
‘Til that night last summer, when you reappeared
Forgot how bad I wanted this.
Jaemin went back to his seat as Renjun read the lyrics out loud. They seemed more than satisfied.
“Perfection,” Jeno called from the ground, everyone ignoring his sudden outburst. When had he even woken up? Jaemin went onto his feed and clicked on what had notified him earlier.
@y/n reposted your story.
So excited to be working with you again.
<3.
Jaemin smiled. “Hey, guys, I might have a couple more lines for you,”
———————————————
“Y/n! Y/n! How does it feel to be at the BT Music Awards?”
“Is this your first time presenting an award?”
“Y/n! Hello Future is in your category! Do you think they will win?”
The cameras were blinding as you were being ushered into the back of the building, several guards escorting you toward the set. The award show was already underway, and you were notified to make your way backstage so you could prepare for the category you would be presenting.
BT Music Awards was one of, if not the most anticipated show in the award season of music. Everyone who was anyone attended the event, and you had surprisingly and excitingly been invited as one of the MC’s for one of the biggest awards of the night. A famous soloist was performing while you exited, giving you enough time to enter through the back.
“Here are your cue cards, oh, and please take the envelope. Do not open it until you are announcing the winner, and make sure to pause before reading it to create anticipation. The trophy will be on the pedestal when you get there, so just hand it to the winner when they come up onto the stage,”
There were hundreds of people bustling around behind the stage, talking into ear pieces and rushing to get things to run smoothly. A man handed you your script and led you through the chaos until you reached a small flight of stairs where you could reach up and nearly touch the screen serving as a backdrop on the stage. The music was blaringly loud but the song being performed was quite catchy, yet all of it was tuned out as you wiped your sweaty palms on your dress.
“Don’t be nervous,” the man assured you as he began to walk away, likely tasked with another job that he didn’t have the time to wait there with you. “You’ll do great,”
All you could give him was a sheepish smile as the song ended and the performer began to head off stage, waving to the audience as the commercial break started.
“Kira is off-stage, I repeat, Kira is off-stage,”
“Wow,” the girl panted, fanning her face as crew members swarmed her, taking the microphone and such. You stood awkwardly on the side, trying to avoid eye contact. To no avail. She squealed and you glanced toward her, suddenly alarmed as she was walking toward you.
“Hello! Are you presenting the final award? That is so exciting!” she was much prettier up close, you thought, and she bowed to you as Kira introduced herself. “I have to admit, I’ve always wanted to meet you. I just think you’re so talented, and gorgeous, too,”
“Uh, thank you! That was an amazing performance,” you replied, giving her a small smile. Why did she have to be so nice?
“Well, I messed up a couple notes, so I’m sure there’ll be some people ridiculing me online. What can you do, right? Oh! The break is over. Good luck!”
And with that, she disappeared down the hallway, and you were alone once again. A woman gestured for you to walk out, and you took a deep breath knowing you had no other choice.
You put on a smile and waved out into the black void as you strutted along the enormous stage, and you could barely see anyone but the celebrity section from your spot in the center. Your hands were shaking slightly as you handled the cards, moving the microphone downwards so you could reach it properly. You read your script word for word.
“What a long night it has been, and the academy would like to thank everyone for being here with us tonight. Now, I know everyone is waiting for the big prize to be awarded, so let’s see the nominees for Artist of the Year,”
You were instructed to pause, and the production team would play the prerecorded video of all the artists in the category. You switched to the envelope, holding it there and waiting for the final moment.
“Nominees for the Artist of the Year award. TY…” Every time a new artist was announced, the crowd would cheer. The list was full of star-studded musicians, but you waited with anticipation for your secret, personal favorite. “...Hello Future,”
The video shut off and the cameras went back to you, and you slowly opened the envelope as the entire arena seemed to fall silent. The name was tucked into the card and you had to slide it out to read it, and your heart skipped a beat as you smiled.
“And the winner of the Artist of the Year award is,” you paused, looking directly into the camera as you felt a rush of pride flow through you. “Hello Future!”
Immediately the crowd fell into an uproar of cheers and applause as music was played and confetti began to fall from above. You almost forgot to grab the trophy with all the mayhem, and the cameras panned to the four boys from their seats near the front of the stage. You watched as they moved into a group hug with excited and shocked expressions, celebrating with one another as they finally made their way up to you.
And of course, the other three stepped behind as Jaemin came to you first, taking the trophy from you with a beaming smile. He faced away from the audience as he did, winking at you as his hands lingered on yours for only a second. You forced yourself not to react on live television, walking to the side as they began their acceptance speech.
They thanked many people from their company and their fans, talked about their hardships and how they’ve managed to make it this far. They took turns speaking and Haechan looked like he might have been crying.
“And, we’d like to thank our dear friend, Y/n, for presenting this award to us. She’s one of the few people who have been with us since the beginning. With that, we’d like to thank everyone who had never doubted us, and we’ll continue to work hard for all of you. Thank you again,” Jeno finished, and the music returned as you motioned for them to follow you off the stage. Renjun sped up to walk beside you as you gave him a small side hug, congratulating him with a warm grin. The back of the stage was much less busy now that the show had finished, and the man from before had returned.
“See? I told you it would work out,” he said, taking the cards from you. You glanced over his name tag with fleeting interest. Announcement Director, Kim Doyoung.
“All thanks to you guys behind the scenes,” you replied with a smile, catching your breath after that intense, amazing moment. You turned to the rest of the boys and gave them your congratulations, but Doyoung tapped you lightly on the arm. He was listening to someone on his earpiece, beckoning for you to follow him down the hall.
“You’ll be waiting in this room while the staff prepares the press walk. Sorry, we were going to escort you back to your seat, but there are no guards available at the moment,”
“I can escort you,” someone called, Jaemin casually trailing behind the two of you. Doyoung gave him a polite smile as you inched away.
“Of course, but unfortunately you qualify as ‘guarded’, not ‘guard’. If you’d like, you and your bandmates are welcome to wait in a room as well,” Doyoung opened the door to your room, shutting it behind you. You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, but you walked over to the small vanity to gather yourself. The dark rumble of the audience was so loud you could hear it from backstage, light pop beats bleeding through the cracks under the door. The atmosphere was so silently loud that you hadn’t heard anyone enter.
“What a night,”
You whipped around, surprised yet unsurprised to see Jaemin standing in your doorway, letting the door swing shut on its own. He had taken off his suit jacket and abandoned it in another room, his jarring silver undershirt unbuttoned several times down. You didn’t know how to reply to his comment, so he continued.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he offered. He was opening himself up to you just by approaching you, you thought. You wouldn’t doubt that it took some courage to continue to stand before you like this, time and time again.
“Thank you, Jaemin,” you replied. Your manicured nails were soothingly sharp as you scratched at your palm nervously. His gaze was lethal as he scanned every inch of you.
“Could I ask you a question?” he blurted, but even in his moment of panic, he was calm. The air in the room suddenly filled with tension and anticipation. “But I have to warn you, it’s pretty introspective, so I guess you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,”
You didn’t know where any of this was going, and his foreshadowing was concerning. You’d never seen Jaemin like this, and that made you vulnerable to his unpredictability. But, you would never be able to help yourself, so you nodded.
“Do you think,” he paused, hesitating. “Do you think that people can come back from anything?”
You studied him. “What do you mean by that?” He seemed reluctant to explain himself, as if he worded the question vaguely on purpose.
“Like, let’s say someone did something fucked up, and they want to redeem themself. Is it too… optimistic to believe that it’s possible?” Jaemin had traveled further away from the door as the conversation played out, close enough for you to reach him if you extended your arm forwards.
“I never thought that I would be one to say that things are impossible,” you began. You were going to entertain his worries and regrets, if only to reach into his closed off mind. “But I’ve learned that sometimes you have to stop expecting from other people that things will ever change,”
“Hm,” he hummed, absorbing your answer. He moved just a little closer, his eyes cast down to his shuffling feet. Mentally slapping himself, he forced his eyes up to meet yours. “And, well, what might you expect from me?”
Your answer came faster than either of you expected. “I don’t know, Jaemin. I just don’t know you anymore, and I don’t think I ever did,”
Jaemin was silent for a moment, and in a moment of impulse, he turned on his heels and walked away. Your eyes were blurry as you watched his quick strides towards the door, and he swung it open so harshly that you even watched him turn to his left down the hallway. The room was quiet once again, and you slowly made your way to the open entrance so you could close it. For good this time.
But when the door was only inches from being closed, you were forced backwards as it was pushed open by a pair of frantic hands. You were turned around and pressed against the cool metal, your back erupting in chills as Jaemin caged you in with his panting body. He stared into your eyes for only a few measly seconds before crashing his lips into yours.
He was pushing and prodding against your mouth and your body as he sought to be as close to you as possible. His cold fingers held your face still for him to seek comfort in your reciprocation, and he got what he had wanted. No matter what you said, and no matter what your brain told you to say, you would always kiss him back.
You were both short on breath but wouldn’t dare to stop, moaning and grunting into each other as your hips couldn’t escape the proximity. His body was pressed flat against yours, and he reached down to grab your hips as you draped your arms around his neck. He seemed to enjoy how you pulled at his hair.
Using his hold on you, Jaemin led your bodies further into the room and sat himself on a chair, instinctively pulling you on top of him. Your short dress rode up as you straddled his hips, and you shuddered as his hands met the skin of your thighs. Hesitantly, you reached up and unbuttoned his shirt a few times down, running your fingers over his chest. He was breathing heavily now, chasing your lips in desperation. You moved together easily, messily.
He pulled back slightly, both your eyes still closed, and he whispered against your lips for a moment. “Y/n,”
You snapped out of your trance the moment you heard him call out to you. Suddenly, the reality of the situation crashed down on you, and you hopped off of him in a rush to escape. Jaemin should’ve been, but he wasn’t surprised as he watched you, slumped back against the seat with his legs spread, his chest heaving as his breath fanned the messy strands of hair falling over his face.
“I—I don’t,” It took a while for you to gather your thoughts, and he seemed to wait impatiently, hanging onto every word. “I don’t want to keep playing this game,”
And just like that, Jaemin became a stranger once again. He stood up and fixed his shirt, his eyes glazing back over in a flash of recomposure. You knew you ruined something in him, but you had to do it to save yourself.
“This isn’t a game, Y/n. Don’t you realize that? I’m not playing with you,”
He walked over to the vanity, and you watched as Jaemin leaned down to see himself in the mirror, brushing a hand through his hair and wiping the red tint staining his lips.
“But if I wanted to be with you, I would. And I’m not,” he finally replied. Your chest began to deflate. In your flurry of heartbreak, a new feeling emerged. One you’d never felt for the man in front of you before.
Jaemin turned to you as your heels hit the ground harshly, walking up to him with determination. “You know, Jaemin, it’s okay if you don’t want me,” His face was a mix of masked confusion as you spoke with an eerie sense of calmness. “But you can’t keep reminding me of it. You don’t seem to realize what that can do to a person. To me,”
At that point, tears were falling down your face, and you knew that was your cue. You didn’t want Jaemin to see you cry for him. He didn’t deserve it. You were angry, furious, and you knew it would only fester into a ball of flames if you didn’t get away from his hell.
“Get the fuck out,” you whispered, turning away from him. You heard him hesitate, you convinced yourself he hadn’t touched your arm in comfort, and you didn’t look back when his fingers dropped from your skin and the door finally closed shut.
~
“What are you even talking about, man? You know we can’t do that,”
“And why the fuck not?” Jaemin huffed, his fingers dancing anxiously on the bottle of alcohol sitting in front of him, the glass turned warm from how long he had been draped over the kitchen counter in defeat.
“They’re our lifeline, you know. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them,” Renjun argued, his head in his hands as he tried to figure out how to mend this situation. “You just need to calm down and get yourself together, alright?”
“Don’t you think I’ve been trying? They’re corrupt, Renjun. We can’t keep letting them do this shit,”
“Maybe we need to find an alternative, though,” Jeno reasoned, much calmer than the boy beside him. Haechan had been silent since Jaemin’s proposal, and it was worrisome for the other three. Haechan always had something to say.
“Just think about it,” Jaemin pleaded. He had never been so set on anything in his life. “Think about all the shit we’ve had to deal with over the years. We’ve been little chess pieces for them to control,”
“That’s life, Jaemin. We signed up for this,” Renjun huffed, but his resolve was wavering. There was a point to be made even if Jaemin was being irrational. “And don’t get me wrong, we all know what they’ve put you through. I’m not saying it isn’t fucked up, but what other choice do we have? I just feel sorry that it always seems to be you,”
The room fell silent, their usually bustling apartment reaching a point of uncomfortable stillness. And then, Haechan finally spoke up. “I’m with Jaem,”
The other three turned to the boy in surprise, but Haechan’s gaze had a look of unwavering determination as he stared out the window.
“In the end, it will always come down to the four of us. If we’re as good as I think—as I know we are, we won’t ever need anything more than that. We don’t need anyone else,”
Okay, so maybe Jeno was easily swayed. Renjun required a bit more convincing, but in the end, he would never be able to deny his friends’ happiness. They were his family.
“I really wanted to go on tour,” he mumbled quietly, and he regretted it once Haechan attacked him with mock sympathy, petting his head like a child.
———————————————
Breaking Headline: Band Hello Future Has Just Terminated All Relations with their Long-Time Label with Unannounced Social Media Post: “Our Truth”
Every artist’s worst fear is being dropped by their label, so what point must they reach to leave on their own volition? Jaws are to the floor as the world finds out that members Renjun, Haechan, Jeno and Jaemin collectively decided to cut all ties with their record label [Star Music]. In a social media post released at midnight, the members revealed some haunting truths about alleged corruption and forced defamation tactics going on within the company, done in hopes to garner popularity.
In the post, divided between the four, most are talking about member Jaemin’s take on the situation. It’s being rumored that his experience is what sparked the decision.
“I’ve been made a liar and a playboy” he said, and many fans are speculating that many of his public endeavors were a scheme. A report made by their own private staff members revealed that various news and media sites were being paid by the company to release false statements on various dating and romantic ‘scandals’ about the bassist. We were fooled, dear fans.
What will this mean for the four boys? Star Music has yet to make a statement on the situation, but there have been no legal actions being taken as of now. The band has avoided any legal obligations to stay within the company, but will they face trouble with their upcoming album? Their company-funded tour has been canceled, but all across the world, fans are speaking up to support their favs for standing up for themselves. Will this be a monumental step for the music industry? Only time will tell.
Notice: highly anticipated Hello Future album: ‘Sky on Fire’ is still set to release this Saturday. The band has just announced that they will be performing its title track: ‘Sleepless’ for the premiere, live on all streaming platforms. Make sure to tune in!
~
message from: unknown number
you’ve received a link. open?
Recipient,
You have received an invitation to attend the Sky on Fire Album launch on Saturday, at 8:00 p.m.
We would like to personally thank you, for if you are receiving this, you are an integral part of our journey up to this point. From the four of us, we’d like to share this moment of growth with you all. We hope you can make it.
With love,
Hello Future
Y/n Y/l/n,
Seat 4, Row A
~
“This is a big night, people! I am standing just outside the venue for the Hello Future album launch, and it is bustling with all the stars’ closest friends, family, and fellow celebrities! We’ve seen Lee Taeyong, duo-group EXO-SC, actors Jung Jaehyun and Dong Sicheng, and more! Oh, hold on. Someone must be coming! Can you hear me over these cheers?”
“The large crowd of fans hoping to catch a glimpse of the star-studded guest list are going crazy right now. Who could be the next face we see—? Oh, of course! And here at the venue, we have the band’s long time friend Y/n! Oh, I love her outfit,”
You must’ve been one of the last people to arrive, the entry strip completely empty as you stepped out of the car. There were barricades on either side to make sure the guests could head inside briskly, the typical flash of the cameras capturing you as you waved around at the crowd. You handed the man in the front your invitation as another woman came to escort you to your seat, and the rest of the audience was just about seated as you strolled past them, smiling to a few familiar faces. You became increasingly more anxious the further down you walked, growing nervous when you realized you were assigned to sit in the first row of chairs. You thanked your hostess and took your seat, the lights dimming as a flurry of camera operators took their places.
Maybe it was curiosity that brought you here, or maybe it was closure. There was nothing you could refuse when it came to him.
The stage was pitch black as you heard footsteps enter, and in just a few moments of preparation, the stream was live and the lights came on to reveal the four boys stationed with their instruments.
[a/n, please get your music apps out and play “A Concert Six Months From Now” by Finneas]
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Haechan began the first verse, and he was smiling in a way that was nostalgic. You realized that seeing them on stage like this brought you back to that party all those years ago. Back when none of you had a name for yourselves yet, and you hadn't wrapped yourself up in the man approaching his microphone.
“If I could see the future, I never would believe her,”
Jaemin seemed to be scanning the crowd, but he stopped short as he glanced at the cameras and tried to sell a smile.
“Falling in and out of love and falling in again,
We were never any good at being friends,”
You shifted in your seat, feeling the lyrics slice through you. In that small, pathetic part of you, you hoped your face flashed in his mind when they were written, and every single time he’d ever had to sing them like he was now.
You were the only thing on Jaemin’s mind, actually, but he was just trying to find you. Now that the cameras were on Haechan, he could search through the audience once again. He spent eight long counts darting his eyes around desperately, and then it was time for him to sing again, and then the instruments picked up and the music got louder, and it was all just in time for his eyes to lock onto yours.
“I’ve been thinking too much and it’s ruined my nights,
But it’s hard when it isn’t, to let yourself slide
And my heart doesn’t slow down when you kill the lights,
I never learned to call it quits.”
There he was, and there you were.
The lights were flashing to match the rawness of the music and the chords were harsh as the band played like they were leaving their hearts on the stage. You were getting a sensory and emotional overload, pushing down the tears in your eyes. He was singing to you now that he could reach your eyes. He’d found you.
Renjun’s voice drowned out as the two of you watched each other, lost in whatever world you were in. Jaemin’s fingers played from muscle memory as his mind got strung up in you. His face reached the microphone one last time, saying everything he’d ever wanted to say in the only way he knew how.
“I’ll go hungry and crazy and honest for you
I don’t always get angry but I’m promising to
If it’s all that you want then it’s all that I can do.
Desire never made any sense,”
He looked away for a moment, too overwhelmed by the tears falling down your face. Jaemin found out for the first time, not too long ago, that you had the power to break him. More than anyone else ever could.
“I’ll wait for years but I won’t wait alone,
And someday you’ll wait for my face on your phone
And I’ll call and I’ll say I think you should come home,
‘Cause I’m tired of being your ex,”
The song faded to a close, but the intimate moment between you two did not. Jeno thanked everyone for coming and the fans for tuning in, but Jaemin released his guitar to slump down his body as he stepped away from the mic like he had been released from a spell. The audience stood to their feet, and you were obligated to stand as you clapped mindlessly.
“Goodnight everyone!”
The crowd immediately erupted into conversation, many friends greeting one another, but you were trying to find your escape. This wasn’t the closure you needed, and you knew you were only going to fall deeper into this hole if you didn’t leave. Rounding the corner, you rushed down the aisle and made a break for the door.
Outside, it was empty. Everyone had cleared out as the clouds gathered and the raindrops pummeled the pavement below. You cursed, out loud, your clothes drenched in a matter of seconds. You were going to make a break for the awning down the side of the building, nearly slipping in your wet heels. You let out a yelp, but in perfectly tragic timing, Jaemin lurched forward and caught you by the waist. The first thing you identified was his scent, his clothes bathed in rainwater while still managing to smell strongly of him. The tears fell faster and you attempted to rip your body away.
“Hey, I got you. It’s okay,”
“It’s not okay,” you sobbed. You hit your fist weakly against his chest, refusing to meet his eyes as you struggled. “It was never okay. You can’t just do this Jaemin. You can’t stand up there and act like—like I mean something to you,”
“I know,” he whispered, cradling your body in the cold. “I know, and I’m sorry,”
“You’re sorry?” you cried. You finally pushed yourself away from him, fuming in your sad, pitiful appearance. He was in front of you, soaked to the bone, but he didn’t move an inch. It was time for him to face everything he wanted to turn away from.
“You can go,” You pressed your finger to his chest. “And stick your apology,” You walked forward as he took steps back. “Up your fucking ass,”
“You don’t mean that,” he murmured, taking your shaking hand in both of his. He was always so warm. “Let me fix this. Let me fix us,”
“You were the one who broke it,” you concluded, staggering back, cradling your hand. Walk away, walk away, walk away.
“It was all a lie,” he called, and you froze in your steps. You didn’t turn, but he continued regardless.
“I was never with her. I lied, and I did it to save my own fucking career. Even if it meant ending what we had before we could even start,” his voice was shaking, you noticed. “Our manager pulled me into the conference room one day, saying I had no choices left. We were emerging onto the music scene, and it was the perfect time to make a move; to create a headline people would pay attention to. They made me lie to everyone, Y/n. Even myself,”
You turned to look at him, his words racing through your mind. He wouldn’t look away anymore. Jaemin wasn’t afraid.
“I should have saved us. I’ll never get to know how complete you would have made me, but I think about it all the time. We could’ve been something. You could’ve been everything to me,”
“You couldn’t save me, but now you can’t let me go. What do you want from me, Jaemin?”
The rain was beginning to settle, and there was more water dripping from your clothes than the sky, but there was a storm brewing. You could both feel it.
“I want you to give me a second chance. I want you to learn to love me like I want to learn to love you,”
You had been so sure that you were done with him, but you didn’t know if you could walk away like this. No, you thought. You had to remember the pain and the confusion even if it hurt, because you couldn’t betray the girl who wanted to be happy again, free of his shackles.
You laughed like this was all one big joke. Jaemin watched you sadly, but with the sliver of hope he still had left. You knew it would shatter, but you wouldn’t be apologetic anymore.
“Look at what we became, Jaemin. We’re no good for each other,”
You barely heard him out, but now you were leaving.
“I’ll wait for you,” he called. “You don’t have to come back to me, but I’ll wait for you, Everyday,”
You smiled. “I know you will, Jaem,”
And it was true. You were unforgettable.
honestly i don't even know if i like this, but i felt like i needed to post something. especially from the playlist series lmao. i hope you guys enjoyed it, and please leave feedback! i love hearing from you guys <3
sincerely,
bebetae
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doubt - j. jaehyun
-> jaehyun x best-friend (f)! reader
-> era! neo zone
-> smut blurb
-> w: making out, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, cursing
-> a/n: hi! okay so i know i've been mia and i'm sorry. shit went downhill for a while but i am back, kinda, and i will try my best to post as much as possible. also yes, i will be updating the links in my masterlists tonight so do not worry <3
“Will I still be able to get good dick?” you asked him.
“I mean… I could fuck you.”
“Why would I fuck you, Jae?”
“Don’t doubt my dick.”
“I will doubt your dick until I have proof that you have good game.”
“If you let me show you, then you’ll have proof.”
“You mean to tell me, that you’re going to pull down your pants, therefore you will be showing me proof of your good game?”
“Well I would pull down my pants and have you sit on my dick, if you’re alright with it. That’s how I will be showing you proof of my good game.”
You took a minute to think before looking over at the navy haired man. “I will sit on your dick.” Jaehyun let out a short hiss of victory when you rolled over into his lap, so that you were straddling him.
Looking up into your eyes, there was a softness that you’ve never really seen before, and you began to wonder where it was coming from. The warmth on your thigh brought you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality.
“Can I kiss you?” you nodded softly, letting him pull you close enough for your lips to touch. It felt like tiny electric shocks as Jaehyun's lips pressed against yours.
Slowly but surely, your hands travelled from his shoulders down his t-shirt clad chest, and down to the buckle of his belt.
“Is this okay?” you asked him, leaving small pecks on his jaw bone.
“Yeah, I’m good.” you could feel his mouth stretching into a small smile as you littered his cheeks with kisses– all while your hands got to work on his belt. Jaehyun bucked his hips up to help you pull his pants down, revealing a thick, hard, cock. A moan nearly escaped your mouth when you saw his length, earning a somewhat cocky chuckle from the man. Slowly reaching for his member, you picked up his dick in your hand, jerking it up and down.
Suddenly, you felt a firm hand press against your back, pushing your face down into the crook of his neck, before he single handedly pulled your sweats down to your knees.
“All good?” his voice was raspy and deep in your ear, quiet moans breaking through every once in a while.
“S-so good.” you mumbled back, feeling his fingers over the lace of your panties.
A slight roughness grazed your leaking lips as Jaehyun pulled the wet material aside, thick digits ghosting your entrance.
“Jae…” you sucked on your bottom lip as two of his fingers slipped in.
You continued stroking his cock and at times when the man did something extra pleasurable, you may or may not have squeezed mid-stroke– which resulted in some hard thrusts. “Fuck Jae, your fingers feel so good.”
Jaehyun chuckled again, pulling his digits out of you, leaving you a whining mess. “Come on, I think it’s time I give proof.” he winked and seconds later, he was aligning his tip with your hole.
Pulling back from his warm skin, you pulled your shirt off from the back and urged him to do the same. As you got settled on his length, Jaehyun took the time to unclasp your bra, flinging it to god knows where.
This time it was Jaehyun who moaned at the sight, his hand raising to graze his thumb over your nipple. With that pleasure, you slowly began to fuck yourself on his cock, balancing yourself by grabbing a hold of his shoulders.
Guiding you with the hands on your waist, Jaehyun took this time to watch you, a growing feeling of adoration spreading throughout his chest. It didn’t take long to reach your orgasms, both you and Jaehyun relying on the pleasure you had given each other from before to get you there.
“God, I’m so close.” you hummed, leaning closer to kiss the man once more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers finding and curling into his hair.
Your breathless moans seeped into his ears, entrancing him. Grabbing the flesh of your ass, Jaehyun took control, thrusting harder and sharper, his tip plunging deeper into you as you whimpered out you were cumming. With your bodies pressed together, you tightly squeezed him in an oddly positioned hug as you rode out your orgasms.
After a few minutes, you squealed lightly when you felt him get up with your body hanging off of him. “We’re just going to the bath.” he said with his lips against your cheek, pressing a soft peck to your skin.
“So what, you’re just gonna hold me until the bath fills?” you scoffed, adjusting to the way he had sat down.
“That doesn’t sound too bad, does it?” Jaehyun raised a brow, the corners of his lips twitching upwards, watching a soft pout grace your lips before you turned your head away from him so he couldn’t see your total freak out.
“Was that enough proof for you?” he asked after a few minutes of silence after settling into the warm water. You stayed quiet to draw out his curiosity before answering with a shrug.
“I don’t know…” Jaehyun’s mouth opened momentarily before it shut again. “I think I might need more.”
An incredulous laugh echoed through the bathroom, the sound of water splashing and your bubbling laughter soon joining the noise.
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Today I don’t feel like doing anything – KJW
P: Jungwoo x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, oneshot | Inc: having breakfast together, head chef reader, doing nothing together, laying together on the sofa | Wc: 511 | W: cw food| R: G
Waking up that morning with a bleary headache, Jungwoo groaned as he hauled himself out of bed, throwing his legs over the edge despite the lead coating his muscles. Waking up feeling like a cement block was not the best way to wake up. The drag in each step sapped whatever strength the idol had left from yesterday’s long day of practice, photo shoots and workouts. Thanking whoever in the sky gave him the weekend off, he pushed through his morning routine and somehow managed to make it to the kitchen without tripping up. All was forgotten, however, as his face lit up at the sight of y/n sitting at the kitchen island, a coffee and book in hand as they kept themselves occupied.
“Hmm…g’morning,” rubbing his nose against y/n’s hair in an attempt at affection before making himself something to eat, Jungwoo hummed in surprise when a set of arms snuck their way around his waist.
“Morning Woo~” bending to meet their fatigued boyfriend’s eyes with a loving smile, y/n pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling Jungwoo away from the counter and to the island stool, “let me make breakfast today, hmm? You look exhausted; busy day yesterday?”
“Mhm…when did you get back?” Rubbing the rest of his sleep out of his eyes, Jungwoo watched as y/n wrapped an apron around their waist and made a start on making breakfast, a pleased smile on their face that only appeared on the head chef’s face once they were in their element. Answering Jungwoo’s question with a hum of ‘one a.m.’ and finishing off the rest of the cooking, y/n went about plating the food, the breakfast Instagram-worthy.
“Woo, get the plates?” Pleased with his task, Jungwoo set the table, accepting the kiss to his cheek with a bashful smile.
“Let’s eat~”
Draped over the living room sofa with the TV turned onto some programme he didn’t have the energy to pay attention to, Jungwoo laid his head in y/n’s lap and gladly accepted the head scratches sent his way. His limbs were nothing more than lead bars and unless there happened to be a natural disaster outside of his door, the idol had no plans to get up whatsoever.
It was his off day. Nothing was going to get him to do anything.
Equally as relaxed and exhausted, y/n kept themselves occupied with the ends of their boyfriend’s hair, gentle hums as they turned the ends of Jungwoo’s hair into mini braids. The chef had luckily taken a day off, and chances to spend quality time with the man in their arms without interruption were few and far between. Any and every opportunity to cuddle, was more than worth it.
“Y/n, baby?”
“Yeah? What is it love?”
“I missed doing this with you,” tilting his head back to meet y/n’s eyes, he grinned, a lazy smile that reached the corners of his eyes. He really did miss laying around on the sofa with y/n. “should we order take-out later?”
“Take-out sounds good. It sounds really good.”
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sweet boy (i’ll eat you whole!) (jenoxfem!reader)
Jeno could be classified as having “golden retriever energy” or whatever the kids on TikTok are calling it. His heart is pure and open, and his favorite activities are eating and laughing.
Well—eating, laughing, and loving you.
Characters: Jeno, Reader
Genre: one-shot, romance, fluff, smut, established relationship, college au (though its not very important)
Pairing: Jeno/fem!reader
Warnings: d/s themes (dom!reader, sub!jeno), humiliation, praise kink, some rough treatment but not a lot; mostly it’s just jeno being pliant and a little dumb
Rating: Explicit
Length: 3.2k
Jeno could be classified as having “golden retriever energy” or whatever the kids on TikTok are calling it. His heart is pure and open, and his favorite activities are eating and laughing. He’s bright-eyed and optimistic, and he loves people, all people, all the time. He’s friendly and kind.
You’ve been dating for a couple of years now. You met in the first semester of college, and at first you thought he was a fucking idiot, but you realized that it was only because he was trusting and excitable. And that made you fall in love, quickly and with no detours; just a straight plummet to overwhelming endearment. And somehow, he loved you back.
It was easy with him. Your exes had tended to be closed off—they seemed to think it made them less of a man to show that they cared about their girlfriend. Jeno was different from the start. He loves you out loud. He loves to love you.
So, you suppose, his favorite activities are eating, laughing, and loving you.
You share an apartment now; your parents thought it was ill-advised, but it’s only for the school year, so it’s not like you have to worry about being stuck in a lease forever if things go south. You don’t think they will, though. It’s midwinter, and you haven’t had problems cohabitating. You share your chores evenly, and you’re both messy, but not dirty, so it works out.
Jeno’s classes run later than yours (partially due to the fact that you got stuck with the early morning classes, much to your chagrin) so you’re alone in the apartment for the moment, bumbling your way through cooking dinner. You’re going out with your friends tomorrow, but tonight is for you and Jeno, and you’re excited. It’s been a long week.
The door opens as you slide the casserole into the oven, and you hear his voice, bright and cheerful. “I’m home!” he calls.
“In the kitchen!” you reply, tugging the fridge open to get yourself a Mike’s Lemonade. You pop the cap off and take a quick swig before your boyfriend comes barreling around the corner and wraps you in a tight hug. “Hi, sweet boy,” you giggle. “Careful, or I’ll spill.”
“Ooh.” He has only just noticed the drink in your hand. He releases you and swipes it before you can react.
“You can get your own!” you complain, but you’re laughing. He takes a swig and hands it back. “How was class?”
“Boring,” he replies with a shrug, “but fine. What are you cooking?”
“Mac ’n’ cheese,” you reply. “It’s gonna take a little. I made salad, though, if you’re hungry now.”
“Always,” he says, already reaching for plates. “Thank you.” You laugh fondly.
You talk about your days over the salad, and by the time you’re done, the mac ’n’ cheese is ready. You each have a helping of that, and then Jeno washes the dishes when you’re done. You’re warm and happy as you cover the rest and slide it into the fridge. You turn to see Jeno grinning at you, his eyes familiar crescents. “Come cuddle with me,” he demands.
And who are you to say no?
The bed is huge and comfortable, but the two of you barely take up half of it, curled up together. Jeno snuggles close to your chest, and you press your lips to his temple, smiling.
He pokes you, and you poke him back. “What,” you mutter, giggling when he does it again. “Jeno, ‘m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”
“Uh-huh,” he says, and disentangles himself from you so that he can tickle you with both hands. You scream, flailing, but he’s pinned your legs with his and all you can do is twist side to side, trying to bat him away.
So you do the only thing you can think of to stop him. You kiss him.
It works; his hands fall away from your ribs; he leans over you and he has to use them to hold himself up. His eyes are sparkling when you break apart.
“Very clever,” he says. There’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks; he’s blushing, and staring at your lips.
You pretend not to notice. “So, what’s our plan for tonight?” you ask lightly. “Other than trying to tickle me to death.”
“Um,” Jeno says, distracted.
“If you want something, just say it,” you say quietly, raising an eyebrow.
He blinks; even after a couple of years together, he still seems surprised when you catch on to the inner workings of his mind. He blushes harder. “I don’t,” he says.
“Do I like liars?” you prompt, letting a slight edge enter your tone, smiling to yourself when he squirms.
“No,” he answers. “I, um, I wanna fuck you. If that’s okay.”
You suppress laughter. Looking at him, you’d think Jeno would be a smooth talker, always charming and charismatic. Handsome boys tend to be like that; it’s what you thought when you first met him. He made quick work of proving you wrong. “That’s not how you ask me for things,” you say, blinking at him serenely. You take his pinky finger between your thumb and index and squeeze.
This is where he can let a shift happen, if he wants. If he doesn’t, he’ll say he doesn’t want to scene tonight, and you’ll move on. He rarely makes that choice, though.
He puffs out an exhale, and then nods, ducking his head. “Will you let me fuck you, miss?”
You smile. “Of course, baby.”
His gaze flickers to yours and he gives you a shy smile, then pushes off the bed, stumbling in his haste. He tugs for the hem of his shirt.
“Slow down,” you say, tilting your head. “Let me look at you.”
He obeys, though you can tell it takes a great deal of effort. “Yes, miss,” he mumbles as he pulls his t-shirt off.
He really does have a fantastic body. You know everyone who sees him thinks so; you know everyone who sees you together is jealous. His chest is broad and muscular, and his waist is delicate despite his perfect abs. You trace the attractive line of his neck down to where it meets his shoulder appreciatively as he fumbles with the button of his jeans.
A hot thrill races through you when he finally pulls his pants down and you catch sight of his cock. He’s already half-hard; he always gets off on you telling him what to do. You have to tamp down your anticipation, instead gesturing him closer when he looks at you for instruction.
“Now me,” you say, opening your arms to him. His hands are on your body the instant the words leave your lips. He’s eager, always eager; what he lacks in finesse, he certainly makes up for tenfold in enthusiasm. You don’t mind. Lack of finesse can always be worked around. What matters to you is knowing that you’re wanted, and he shows you, loud and clear, every time.
He unbuttons your shirt, helping you peel the sleeves off your arms, and then tugs firmly on the waistband of your pants. You lift your hips, happy to let him do the hard part, which is coaxing the hem of each leg around your ankles.
In all his clumsiness, Jeno knows how to get your clothes off efficiently, so it goes quickly. He tosses your pants aside—you’ll probably have to pick them up later, but it’s not a big deal—and crawls back up the bed to you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulls you forward so you can rest against his shoulder while he works to unclasp your bra. One deft movement and the fabric falls away. He does it faster than usual, and you wonder if he’s been practicing. Maybe that’s where your old blue bra went; you’ve been looking for it for a week. At least he had the courtesy to steal one he knows you don’t like to wear. Regardless, the thought of it amuses you, and you have to force down a smile.
He presses a kiss to your left nipple, and you gasp.
“Sorry,” he whispers before you can even admonish him. “Can’t help myself.”
“I’ll let it go,” you mutter good-naturedly, “since you’re being sweet.”
He flashes you a grin, so blinding, so handsome, and moves down to hook his fingers on the delicate lace of your underwear. He wiggles them down your body; you bend your knees so he doesn’t have so far to go.
With your panties finally out of the way, you tug him back up to the head of the bed again to give him a kiss as a reward. He moans softly into your mouth. He’s using one hand to hold himself up. The other wrist is trapped in your grasp. That hand twitches; you can tell he wants to wiggle free so he can touch you, but he’s good and doesn’t move.
When you break away, his eyes are glassy. He blinks a couple of times before focusing back in on you. “Miss?” he asks softly.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can I please eat you out?” He asks like he thinks you’re gonna say no. You only say no to requests like that if he’s been particularly bad, which is honestly quite rare. Still, you pretend to think about it for a minute before acquiescing.
“Yes,” you say after a moment, watching his eyes light up as he hurries to situate himself between your legs.
Jeno’s a little messy, but there isn’t really a non-messy way to eat pussy, you suppose. You guide his head with one hand in his hair, and stutter through an inhale when you feel the warm heat of his tongue on your clit. He traces circles with the tip, then presses his tongue flat against you and toggles it back and forth. It’s a rare talent of his; up-and-down and around are easy motions, but side-to-side, especially that fast and with that much force, is a feat. You certainly can’t do it; neither could anybody else you’ve ever slept with. You sigh, letting your head fall back.
Without your scrutiny, though, he gets lazy. His movements slow, and you can hardly feel the pressure of his tongue as the minutes tick by. You raise your head, tightening your grip on his hair. “Hey,” you say sharply. “You asked to eat me out. Do it right.” You hear him inhale, and a spike of arousal runs through you when he redoubles his efforts. “That’s better.” You loosen your grip a little, but not completely; a reminder for him to behave. “If you don’t show me that you know how to use your tongue, maybe I shouldn’t let you speak.” No speaking means he can’t ask for permission to come—at least, not in a way that you can’t pretend not to understand—and he knows you can get cruel when you set your heart to it.
He makes a muffled sort of whimper against you; you think it’s supposed to be an apology, but all you can feel are the vibrations from his voice. If it was an apology, it’s a good one, you think, closing your eyes.
He slips a finger into the wet heat of your pussy without asking, but it feels good, so you let him. He has such pretty hands, such long and nimble fingers. He adds a second after a bit, and then a third after a while longer. The drag of it feels good; desire scatters with the goosebumps across your skin, dancing in senseless patterns around and around and gathering back in the hollow of your throat, where a low moan is building.
You release it, and Jeno hums against your clit, head still buried dutifully between your thighs. He crooks his fingers every other thrust, and it makes you dizzy sometimes, how well he knows your body without trying, even though he’s so distractible. A few more thrusts have you coming, shuddering and clenching around the swell of his knuckles as his tongue slows to a stop.
He raises his head, and you smile at the sight. His chin is slick with spit and with you, and you lean forward to kiss him. It catches him by surprise and the rest of his body freezes, even his hand—like he forgot he still has his fingers inside you. It’s cute, and you giggle against his lips.
He’s trembling when you release him, and your eyes find his cock, hard and red against his stomach. He sees you looking, and blushes. You look back up at him and give him an indulgent smile. “Gonna fuck me, or what?”
“Yes,” he answers after a moment’s hesitation, surprised by your blunt eagerness. He stretches a long arm out to root around in the drawer of your bedside table, coming up victorious a few seconds later, condom pinched between his thumb and index finger.
You watch him prep himself through half-lidded eyes, petting his thigh lazily to let him know you’re looking. A minute later, the condom wrapper is lost somewhere on the floor, and he’s bending over you, one hand on his cock, ready to guide it in.
“Okay?” he asks, pausing just inches away.
“Go ahead, baby,” you say, and he pushes into you.
Jeno has a damn nice cock. It stretches you and fills you but it doesn’t hurt, and you afford him an appreciative moan when he bottoms out.
“Ohfuck,” he whispers in your ear, the two words strung together like one. “Feels good, you always feel so good.”
“I know,” you say primly. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, miss,” he rushes out before he begins to thrust.
The time when the combination of an abundance of eagerness and a deficit of finesse becomes a problem is now—he goes too fast too quickly; he wants, and he lets the want control him. Some days, he’s better, but today, like most days, he lets it run away with him before you can even gather the breath to warn him not to.
“Slow down,” you say, squeezing his hip. He falters, brow furrowed. “Slower.” You watch him struggle into a slower, more comfortable pace. “You have such a nice pretty cock, you know, but you don’t even know how to use it properly. Isn’t that right?” He shivers. “You still need me to tell you what to do, even after all this time?” He doesn’t answer you, just kind of whines and moans in the back of his throat. You raise your hand in front of his face and snap your fingers. “Hey! Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jeno gasps. He only says ma’am when he’s sorry; it makes the corners of your lips twitch in satisfaction. “I’m sorry.”
You sigh, feigning disappointment, letting it roll off of you so Jeno feels it. “You can’t even answer me when I’m being nice and letting you fuck me,” you continue.“What terrible manners!”
When he looks up at you, his eyes are bright with unshed tears. “I know, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “It just feels so good, I can’t think—”
You coo. It’s hard to stay mad when he’s so obviously trying. “I know, baby.” You cup his cheek. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, to help you out even when you’re feeling dumb, right?”
He nods, closing his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Good boy,” you murmur, and he whines. “My good boy.”
He bends to press kisses to your neck, your collarbone, your tits; he ends up with his mouth closed around one of your nipples, tongue flickering across it. It’s electrifying, even if there’s little grace, and you let out soft gasps at each movement, running a hand down his back.
He’s panting now, breath hot against your skin. It’s sweet; he gets overwhelmed so easily. You can feel him inside of you, the pulse of his need; can see it in the way his hips stutter; can hear it in his voice when he swears.
“I’m close, I’m close, please,” he huffs. He tilts his face up and you see a single tear-track running down his cheek. “Fuck, please, need to come.”
You reach up to run a hand through his hair. “You do, do you?” you ask. He nods quickly; his thrusts have slowed, you notice. He’s trying to make sure he doesn’t come before you say he can. “Why’re you slowing down, baby?”
“Because I—I can’t—if I don’t—” Frustration brings a fresh wave of tears to his waterline. “You know why!” he accuses.
“Never said you could go that slow,” you say, tsking at him when he cries out and forces himself to pick the pace back up. You hold the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “Oh, look at you. You’re so cute when you get desperate.”
He whines in protest, which only proves your point. “Please.” His voice is faint, strained.
“So sweet, baby.” You lean in, scrape at his pulse point with your front teeth. “I could eat you whole.”
Jeno coughs out a sob. He’s shaking head-to-toe, like a leaf in the autumn wind, skin shining with sweat. “Please please please,” he chants quietly. “Please, it hurts so bad.”
“You beg so nice,” you say, and he gives a little cry. It sounds so defeated. Maybe you’re terrible for enjoying this, but he’s so precious. “Okay, baby. You can come.”
“Oh god, thank you, thankyouthankyoutha—” He cuts himself off to moan as he stills inside of you, letting his orgasm take hold of his body. You can feel the heat of it like this, without the movement to distract you. He thrusts shallowly to work the rest of it out, sweaty forehead resting heavy on your shoulder.
“Look so good,” you say, offhand.
He sighs happily. “Felt good,” he says. He pulls out gingerly, flipping over to do away with the condom. Then he turns back to you. “Now let me make you feel good.”
You smile. “So sweet to me,” you reply, watching him push three fingers into your pussy. He twists and curls them, smiling in a sort of self-satisfactory way when you moan.
He fucks you with three fingers until you’re dripping and writhing, and then has the audacity to squeeze his pinky in beside the others. Like this, it’s easy for him to press in deep and rub his thumb against your clit. You come within seconds, curving forward, spine ripped from the mattress as pleasure wracks your body for a second time. You sink back down against the bed as it subsides, trying to catch your breath.
You both get cleaned up, throwing your laundry into the hamper and stealing kisses as you go. You find clean underwear and an old t-shirt, and get cuddled up again on the bed, this time much more docile.
You find the remote, and together you scroll through Netflix, trying to decide what to watch.
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” Jeno says, eyes never leaving the screen as he skims title after title. “Like, Netflix-and-chill, as in Netflix and then fuck, not chill-and-Netflix?”
You laugh. “Well, first of all, we’re not Netflix-and-chilling, we’re dating, so we can do whatever we want,” you point out. “But we can go again after the movie if it’s bothering you so much.”
Jeno blushes, from the tips of his ears down to the enticing peek of his stomach showing where his tank top has ridden up. You grin. You have him wrapped around your pinky finger, but it’s only fair. He has you wrapped around his just as tight.
#kpopscape#nct-writers#ksmutclub#kcollegenet#neosmutcollective#cznnet#neowritingsnet#nshitty frathouse#works#nct#smut#nct smut#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#jeno#lee jeno#nct jeno#nct dream#jeno smut#lee jeno smut#jeno fanfic#lee jeno fanfic#jeno fanfiction#lee jeno fanfiction#nct jeno smut#nct jeno fanfic#nct jeno fanfiction#jeno x reader#jeno x you#jeno/reader
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bad habit | k.dy
doyoung moved his gaze from the dimly lit phone screen towards the motion of people walking in and out of the shiny glass doors. he can’t help but think of your voicemail from last night. perhaps, the last voicemail ever since you’re moving to a new state for your studies.
“and uh, i’ve been thinking of this for a really long time but we should be transparent. we’ve been best friends for more than a decade even, so no judgements, okay? i may have, um, had feelings for you since, i don’t know, a few years back? and, i’m not expecting anything from you now, just decided to let some stuff off my shoulders. guess i’ll see you when i see you, bye doyoung. take care,”
why now? why in the world did you only come clean about your feelings now when the both of you are about to be busy with your own lives and maybe about to meet new people?
god, i wish i knew you wanted me, y/n.
#MY WRITING COMEBACK#nct imagines#nct doyoung#nct fluff#nct angst#doyoung imagines#neoturtles#ankathia#nshitty-frathouse#prism.nw#kwritersworldnet#kdiarynet#ultkpopnetwork#ficscafe
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I'll Always Love You
» pairing: huang renjun x reader
» genre: break-up au, MAJOR angst,
» rating: pg
» word count: 443
» warnings: none
a/n: it really has been awhile since i've wrote something and of course it had to be angst. LMAOOOO i've been too swamped with school to write, but this fic has been in my wips folder for over a year! so please enjoy!!!
Renjun could see it, no, he could feel it. The sparkle that you had in your eyes when you looked at him wasn’t there. They have been gone for awhile, was he just realizing this now? He definitely wasn’t, he knew and it was breaking his heart. He just played dumb in hopes those sparkles would return and were no fluke. Days became weeks, weeks became months and nothing returned.
He tried his best to take you on dates, give you things you liked, shower you more with love, but all failed. Renjun knew he couldn’t keep you by him for longer than he had. He had to let you go, he had to face reality and suffer through the pain that the girl he adored with heart slipped through his fingers without a word.
There has to be another way to get her to love me again.
Let go, she deserves better.
The constant battle that his heart and mind faced took a toll on him. He knew the right answer, but still tried to push through the hardship you both were facing. The lack of emotion and disinterest coming from you grew more. Those long nights staying up watching reruns of Friends, talking about nonsense, cuddling, sharing secrets are now these nights consumed by darkness.
Junnie, look I brought us some goodies for tonight!
Jun, would you rather finger size toes or toe sized fingers?
Oh how the mind was cruel, every little thing reminds him of you. All the memories that you both created are just reminders of how happy and perfect your relationship was. If he could turn back time to avoid this bitter ending he would. He would do everything differently for you.
Dance with me Jun, I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain.
You’re going to get a cold ___, get back inside dammit!
The long awaited ending is here, Renjun had to save you, but most importantly himself. All these conversations are becoming the last goodbyes. His luggage is lined up by the door, ready to depart with a broken man pulling them along. You took everything from him, every ounce that he poured into the last months of your relationship.
In the end, Renjun knew that he didn’t regret anything. He fought for you and did his best. His relationship with you was something beautiful that he would forever cherish. You showed him immense love and vice versa. Your relationship together will be a learning experience for one another for the next person who makes those butterflies appear.
“I’ll always love you ‘til the day I die,” he whispered to the closed apartment door.
Copyright © 2022 baekhyyun. All rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.
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