#stranger!baekhyun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lisired · 10 months ago

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honeymoon avenue

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, a pinch of angst, fluff, stuck in an elevator with your ex-fiancé, exes to lovers, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)

summary: A year ago, wedding bells were ringing and you were screaming, “Yes!” at the top of your lungs. Last Christmas, you were supposed to be wed under a mistletoe. This Christmas, company finds you in the form of your ex-fiancé that broke off your engagement after you’re both inconveniently trapped in an elevator.

word count: 12.3k (complete opposite of a slow burn)

a/n: inspired by honeymoon avenue and my everything by ariana grande, undo (back to my heart) by tinashe, and ice queen by baekhyun. ‘tis the season! (it was xmas when this was originally posted lol). as always, feedback is appreciated!

Last year around this time, you had arranged to be wed. You recalled restlessly counting down the days until your lover would meet his lips to yours in front of all of your friends and family once granted the greenlight to kiss the bride.

You had everything planned down to a “T.” The banquet hall would be emerald and burgundy. There would be an arch above you where a mistletoe would hang. The wedding cake would have Jaehyun’s surname. And everyone’s attire would be formal, though seasonal.

It was supposed to be the best day of your life.

A winter wonderland wedding seemed like an apt choice for you. You were so, so cold, but there was still an air of warmth to you. Now, your heart was unthawed.

This Christmas - much like the last - you would be alone.

It stung knowing you would be lonely for the second Christmas in a row and there was nobody at fault but yourself. You were miffed at your own behavior, but gave yourself no time to dwell on the past, doing what you knew how to do best - work until your brain went numb.

There was plenty on the roster today. A corporate meeting, phone calls to answer, and reports that wouldn’t type themselves. And that was to be brief. Speaking of which, you needed to brief employees about new protocols.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you chanted impatiently to yourself, tapping your foot against the floor. The elevators in your apartment were running later than usual today.

You heaved a breath of relief when the doors chimed open. Out went a group of people and in went you. Maneuvering your body to press the first floor button, you came to a halt when you noticed it was already selected and gleaming.

That was when you finally noticed the man in the elevator - the only other person there with you - glancing down at his phone. You leaned against the railing and shifted your attention to the door nonchalantly, writing off the stranger as the very least of your concerns. Getting to work on time was paramount.

As it always was.

Morning traffic is going to be brutal, you thought with a grimace. Every thought in your head revolved around work and how long it would take you to get there.

It would seem you would have no time for your morning coffee run. You remembered those times when you’d stay the night at Jaehyun’s, waking to a hot cup of coffee that he’d made just the way you liked it waiting for you.

Four words would permanently be etched into your memory. Have a good life.

With some disdain, you bade the thought retreat. Jaehyun was no longer a part of your life and you doubted he would want to be ever again. Not that you blamed him. It was your punishment alone.

The elevator gave a jolt and you gripped the elevator for dear life, screeching, “What the…?”

The floor indicator donned the number one in a big, bold shade of red, though ironically, the door gave not an inch. Which was odd. You pressed the button that ostensibly opened the door in these types of situations, but to no avail.

“Are we stuck?”

Your head snapped behind you and you nearly broke into a cold sweat when you noticed that the man lone in the elevator with you was no other than your ex-fiancé.

Living in the same apartment complex as the man you were once fated to marry was no easy feat, but the multiple years of seeing each other made it simpler to avoid him. For one, you knew one another’s routines and thus what time to be out the door either before or after the other.

That said, you had seen Jaehyun a couple of weeks ago, but the last time you’d spoken was when he returned all of your things from his apartment. Have a good life. Those were the last words he’d exchanged with you.

That had been approximately a year ago, a couple of weeks before Christmas and the day you were supposed to say, I do.

“Appears that way,” you replied, clearing your throat.

Jaehyun had his phone in his pockets now. You held your breath as you gave him a once-over. He was still handsome as ever, though that was to be expected. As far as you were concerned, he looked more or less the same as the last time you’d spoken, only his hair was a little lengthier. He still looked rather displeased to see you.

And he was wearing a suit. Which meant he was most likely also trying to go to work.

You frowned. Now you were thinking about Jaehyun in suits. Needless to say, that was a sore spot.

A voice came over a speaker and you recognized it as Yangyang’s, one of the apartment staff. He spoke like he was reading from a textbook, “Passengers, do not be alarmed. Our technical team will be arriving shortly to repair the service. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

You mused aloud, “Can he hear us?”

“Loud and clear,” Yangyang chirped.

“How long will it be before someone can help us?” you asked, never keen on being late.

“I can’t say, ma’am. Anywhere from fifteen minutes and a couple of hours.”

You interjected to screech, “A couple of hours?”

Jaehyun clamped a soothing palm on your shoulder to calm you down. It was almost embarrassing how effortlessly his touch could ease you even a year after he broke off your engagement.

Yangyang explained in his usual exuberant tone, “The weather and usual early traffic may cause a delay, ma’am. They will be arriving as swiftly as possible and servicing is already underway by our maintenance staff.”

“Thank you, Yangyang,” Jaehyun said, smoothing his palm down your back.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Jung. You too, ma’am.”

You heaved a breath. “So, it looks like we’re going to be here a while.”

“Hopefully not that long,” Jaehyun said, recouping his hand.

Though it stung, you understood. It went without saying that being trapped in an elevator with the ex that abandoned him was not part of today’s plan. He may have called off the engagement, but you were the one that left him high and dry.

You broke his heart. Not only that, you stole his future. Everything he ever dreamed of, a wife and children, was thrown out the window because of your selfishness.

Jaehyun recognized you would both be stuck together for a while and rather than sit in awkward silence, he asked, “How’s life?”

Darn him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the last words he had said to you out of your head. Have a good life.

The breakup was bitter and stone-cold. Jaehyun made a couple of things unmistakably clear with those four words alone. For one, he was cutting you out of his life for good. And he no longer desired to be imprisoned within yours, being punished for no good reason at all.

And you never fought him - never fought to win him over. Maybe because you had already known for some time that your engagement was in danger. It was beyond reclaim. Irrevocably damaged.

Never one to appear weak, you said, “Good. Really good. I was promoted to secretary.”

Jaehyun perked up. You got what you wanted. But did I deserve to be the sacrifice, baby? Was it worth it?

“Still a workaholic I see.”

You frowned. “Old habits die hard. How have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Jaehyun said. “I wasn’t promoted or anything, but everything’s been pretty good over here.”

You had no doubts. Jaehyun was an editor and his line of work gave him plenty of leeway. For the most part, he worked from home, though there were instances where he came into the workplace. At least, when you last spoke, that is.

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” you said, willing yourself to smile. A part of you was strangely bitter. It didn’t want to see him happy without you.

Though you no longer followed each other, Jaehyun still popped up on your Instagram homepage every now and then. And perhaps you’d searched his page more times than you cared to admit. Everything about his page was achingly sentimental and reminiscent of your past together.

Pictures of him at museums or bridges at nighttime or parks with his hair whipping through the breeze. Once upon a time, you were the one taking those pictures of him. Now, you wondered who was behind the camera, living the life you’d carelessly given away.

“Thanks,” was all he willed himself to reply.

Your eyes instinctively fell to your watch and your head fell back as you groaned, “God, I’m going to be late for work.”

Jaehyun fought a snort. “Yeah, me too. At least there’s still some good news.”

“Like what?”

“It’s warm in here,” Jaehyun commented lightheartedly.

You chuckled. What a way to relieve the tension. Though Jaehyun never failed to make you laugh with ease. Except for when you broke up. Nothing was funny then.

Those weeks leading to the breakup may have been worse than the day it actually happened altogether. The feeling of knowing something was inevitably bound to happen yet being unable to prevent it was arguably worse than the emptiness you felt when Jaehyun announced he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

Emptiness numbed you to the pain for a couple of days. You couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. All you could feel was a bitter, nipping cold enveloping you, eventually splitting you right down the middle.

Jaehyun subtly eyed you as you typed a message to your boss, warning him that you may have been late for work and telling him to proceed without you. Maybe some things never changed. You were still gorgeous, that was for sure. But you were also still married to your work. Ultimately, that would always prove to be your downfall.

It seemed like only yesterday you were his. He was planning to meet you at the altar, itching to sweep you into his arms and kiss you the moment you were pronounced husband and wife.

You had always been a workaholic. At one point, Jaehyun loved it about you. He never thought your relationship would be foredoomed because of it. Devoted and loyal were two terms that described you strongly.

Although, maybe you had been too devoted to the wrong thing.

Your broken engagement was a prime example of what happened when you applied too much pressure to one thing and neglected the other. It was the wretched result of not finding balance.

Everything you ever hoped and dreamed of flashed before your eyes. Once upon a time, you were both making plans to move into a house together. You wanted a pet. And you were thinking about children.

Now, you were all alone. And you had never felt colder.

For some reason, the absurdity of your predicament hit you merely moments after you sent the text message. It just didn’t seem probable to be trapped in an elevator with your ex-fiancé. Much less alone. You threw your head back and whined, “I mean, what are the odds.”

Jaehyun pitched you a confused glance.

You winded a hand through your hair and elaborated, “Us being stuck in the exact same elevator and forcing ourselves to pretend we don’t mind. If I remember correctly, you had no intention of hearing from me again.”

“I think we should spare each other the awkwardness,” Jaehyun replied, donning an impassive expression. And tone.

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Jaehyun being kind to you should not have been mistaken and was probably more or less because he wanted to avoid as much tension as possible - not because he didn’t hate you.

Jaehyun spoke up again to ask, “How long have we been here?”

You glanced at your phone and read the time. “About fifteen minutes, I guess.”

“So, we’re going to be here for a couple of hours,” Jaehyun quipped, trying to lighten the mood the best way he knew how.

You winced, hoping there was an in between. “Not like I had anything else to do,” you mumbled.

Jaehyun himself wasn’t exactly bummed about missing a day, or at least a couple of hours. Though this was you. He used to joke that hell would freeze over the moment you decided to actually take a day off. “They will survive without you for a while,” he comforted softly.

You scoffed. You were carrying that company on your back. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. The whole building will be in flames if I’m not there within an hour tops.”

“I’m sure,” Jaehyun scoffed. “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you do.”

I have, you thought wistfully. Jaehyun fought harder for your relationship than you ever tried, but enough was enough. He was at his limit, giving more than he was receiving and he couldn’t let you take advantage of him anymore.

Though it was intended to be a compliment, for whatever reason, your heartache was only amplified. You swiftly changed the subject. “So, what are your plans for the holidays?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special. I’m going to spend some time with my family.”

That caught your attention. “You haven’t been seeing anyone?”

Jaehyun only shook his head. He was afraid of opening his mouth and saying something that would make shit awkward again. For all he knew, you two would both be stuck together for potentially the next couple of hours and he did not want to spend it in suffocating silence.

Unfortunately, Jaehyun couldn’t deny that after your engagement was broken off, finding other girls had been hard. They came a dime a dozen, but none of them remained. Even after you were long gone, bits of you lingered, scattered everywhere across his life.

Jaehyun went to bed and thought of nights spent cuddling you to sleep. He visited his favorite cafe and thought of your go-to order. Jaehyun hooked up with other girls and thought of how beautiful you looked writhing underneath him, your voice calling out his name in a cry, dripping with sweet honey.

Though you were forever gone, the memories of you still haunted him everyday. For so long, he had been convinced he was made for you. You were the only woman he ever wanted.

And he couldn’t have you.

Jaehyun commanded the thoughts to go away. You stopped being his long before the breakup. “You?”

“Oh, you know. With my line of work, I just don’t have the time,” you replied bashfully.

That Jaehyun knew all too well. Just a little.

He bobbed his head. “Sounds like you.”

Guilt suddenly plagued your chest. Every second beside him you were reminded of the fact that you were the one who ruined a beautiful thing. You had gotten what you strived for, though in hindsight, the lengths you went to get it were brutal and cold-hearted.

You had sacrificed so much of yourself to get to where you were. And now that you were standing at the top, you could finally see the collateral damage you’d inflicted at the bottom.

There was only a good couple of feet to separate you and Jaehyun. And you absolutely loathed it. There was more distance between you when he uttered those four words permanently etched into your memory, before turning and heading out of your front door.

Jaehyun fancied it no more than you did. Walking away had been hard. He looked back, but never stopped. A year ago, he was convinced that he would have moved on by now. But no matter how far apart you were, his heart was still one of your captives. Not only did he leave a piece of it with you, but the whole damn thing.

He wanted it back. Damn it, he wanted you back. He wanted back every piece of himself he gave you, but above all else, he wanted back what you had. To go back to the way everything was the day he got down on one knee and asked for permission to hold your heart forever.

He remembered like it was yesterday. Earlier that spring, he took you to a bridge. Not only was it one of your favorite spots in the city, but it was where you both first said I love you.

Maybe that was why. Now, you couldn’t bring yourself to visit it anymore. The memories were too painful.

Just like the first time he took you there, night had fallen. The bridge overlooked a river, moonlight cast into the water. Purple lights made the trail glimmer. But the moon was a little fuller, the air a little cooler.

Not that either of you minded. To be with you, he was content.

You were beaming. Even before he proposed. None of you could stop thinking about the night you first said that you loved each other. But when Jaehyun asked you to marry him underneath the moonlight, you were over the moon.

You were chanting, Yes! Jaehyun had to sweep you into his arms and meet his lips to yours to cut you off. A very long time ago, the memory made him smile. Now, it made his heart swell with agony.

His eyes were sad. And understandably a little angry. Even after all these years, you could still read him clear as day. You wondered if he could read you, too. You whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun heaved a deep breath. An apology wouldn’t fix his broken heart and saying you were sorry wouldn’t undo the heartache you inflicted on him. It wasn’t okay. He hated you for leaving him lonely. For choosing your job over a future together. He would never forgive you for it. “I never wanted much. I never wanted all of your time. Only a little was all I was asking for.”

“I don’t want to go there with you, Jaehyun,” you said, exhaling a sigh of your own.

All Jaehyun did was shake his head and murmur under his breath, “Classic.”

A part of you bristled. Why Jaehyun always wanted to hash things out with you was a mystery. Fighting was draining and you never had the energy. A long day of work left you with only enough strength to take a long hot shower before crawling into bed.

Not Jaehyun. He would never understand. The pressure to succeed, the struggle to unlearn the definition of success you were taught even before your adolescence.

A year ago, everything was falling apart in your relationship. You were arguing more, spending time together less. Jaehyun was trying to salvage what was left. In his mind, fighting with you was better than not speaking to you at all.

Most of your memories with him were unforgettable, but when they were bad, they were excruciating to think of. You could still remember the last argument before the uncoupling.

December was still fresh and the air was frigid, numbing your senses until you stepped into your warm apartment. Jaehyun was waiting for you there. A smile tugged your lips when you hung your coat and excitedly bounced into the kitchen, smelling hot chocolate.

“Baby, I’m home,” you sang radiantly. At one point, it used to be your favorite line to say. A lifetime of obsessing over movie cliches was to blame.

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and simpered. You looked nothing less than exhausted, though he found it cute on you. “Hey, my love. How was your day?”

You instantly groaned, “I’d rather not talk about it. Or think about it, for that matter.”

“Will a cup of hot cocoa make it better?”

You propped yourself on the island and flirted, “Made by Barista Jaehyun himself? Of course.”

Jaehyun handed you a mug and you accepted it gracious, muttering, “thank you.” He was the sweetest thing you could ask for. Even sweeter than the hot cocoa warming your palms.

That was how the arguments always began. They were sweet, innocent moments - until they weren’t.

Your lover dipped behind the island and returned with a mug of his own, still steaming with freshly hot cocoa. You thought absolutely nothing of it. Not until he opened his mouth. “How does a date night on Friday sound?”

You frowned. “This Friday?”

“Well, yeah,” Jaehyun said, rubbing his nape. “It’s been a while, you know. Since we’ve gone out on a date.”

That was true. Jaehyun always had some extra time to spare. He wanted to spoil and indulge you at every given chance. But you were always busy. Even when you were off the clock, you were still on the clock. And more often than not, you brought work back home with you.

“I’m so busy and so tired, Jay,” you whispered gently. God knew you wanted to, but you didn’t have the time and much less the energy.

“I get that,” Jaehyun started. “But can’t you take even a day off?”

“I’m aiming for a promotion, Jaehyun. I have to prove myself. My boss has been dangling this shit in our faces for the past few months. I can’t let an opportunity like that slip away.”

Jaehyun was rapidly getting frustrated and reminded, “You do realize we’re getting married in a few weeks, right?”

Your eyes flickered. “Yes, I do. And I plan to be there.”

“At the rate you’re going, I wouldn’t be surprised if you stood me up.”

Your heart sank. “How can you say that?”

“How couldn’t I?” Jaehyun snapped, evidently pained. “We’ve been engaged for the past nine months, but it doesn’t feel like I’m about to get married. It feels like I’m losing you because you’re too absorbed in your goddamn job.”

“Are you asking me to choose you over my job?” you asked, standing to your feet. This entire argument was an affront to your pride.

“No. There is no point in giving you an ultimatum when I already know that you will choose your job every time without hesitation - you already do. I’m asking you to make room for me, but I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You countered, “I do want you.”

“Do you?” Jaehyun snapped, skeptical. “You can’t even go on a date with me. You want a promotion more than anything else.”

You sighed, “I don’t want to fight, Jay.”

“I know that. You don’t want to fight for anything,” Jaehyun said bitterly. “You would rather watch us burn to ash than fight for us.”

Anger plagued you and you were prepared to hurl something back, but he didn’t give you the chance.

Jaehyun added, “I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.”

Your words were cold as ice, “Then, leave.”

And the rest was history.

There was nothing you could say when Jaehyun left you, no fight for you to give. It was you that sent him away. It was you that made him leave. He had only given you what you asked for.

Old habits died hard. The one-year anniversary of both the breakup and the day you were supposed to be married was rapidly approaching and to distract yourself from the pain, you were burying yourself in work. You didn’t want to think about Jaehyun and what you almost had. Not even for a second. And then, today came and ruined everything.

Now, you were being forced to confront the past.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re stronger than this. God, you wanted to be anywhere but here right now. Tears burned your eyes, but you would never let them fall. Not with Jaehyun there. You didn’t want him to see the mess he’d left of you - how miserable you were without him.

You wanted to mend everything back together, but it was too late. Everything was irreparably broken. You had the opportunity to patch things up, and you passed it up. No more time could be wasted crying for the moon.

And still, somewhere deep inside, you knew Jaehyun would steal it for you.

Jaehyun saw your eyes and softened a little. Damn it, they still made him weak. Your tears were made of diamonds and they were priceless. Jaehyun said, “My mother still talks about you, you know. She asks me when we’re going to get back together.”

Your eyes flickered. “That’s… interesting,” you lied. “I thought she would hate me. And be more protective of her baby.” Because I broke your heart.

“You know my mother always loved you,” Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I don’t think anyone believed in us more than her - not even ourselves.”

Somebody had to, you thought weakly. Though Jachyun was a romantic to his core, even he had to eventually throw in the towel.

Everyone thought you and Jaehyun would be the perfect match. Each of your families were anticipating a beautiful wintry nuptial ceremony on Christmas day. And when news of the uncoupling broke loose, your people weren't exactly shocked, but they were heavily disappointed.

You were clearly the problem. Until you learned how to balance, you would never be happy in love. Up until now, you were beginning to become content with that fate.

Though now, your heart was greedy.

Jaehyun’s mother crossed your mind. She was the epitome of an angel and the fact that she still wanted you in her son’s life after all the pain you caused him was deafening. But what about what Jaehyun wanted? Does he even still love me?

Every moment spent with his mother had been wonderful. She spoke fondly of him and vice versa and supported him unconditionally. It was true motherly love and it made your chest stiffen, taut with envy. Ever since you were a kid, you only knew pressure. Your parents wanted you to have the life they didn’t when they were your age, but they were very strict in how they went about it.

Tough love was all you received. They didn’t help you through trying times. You were expected to suck it up. You were taught that tears were a sign of vulnerability and vulnerability was weakness.

You fought them back with everything you had and said, “How does she know I wouldn’t mess things up again?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun told you, not disputing the fact that you had essentially destroyed everything. It stung, but it was the truth. “She says ‘a mother knows best.’”

Jaehyun watched you struggle to hold yourself together. You were good at pretending to be okay and smiling through your pain, but he was even better at seeing through you. He saw you through a lens that only a man who loved you with his whole mind, body, and soul for years could see. He saw all your weaknesses, all your flaws. But he never judged and he saw something else in them, too. What made you beautiful.

“But what do you want?” It was killing you. For as long as you stood there, you needed to know.

“I wanted you,” Jaehyun replied honestly. “But you wouldn’t let me have you.”

You shook your head. “You had me. Every piece of me - it belonged to you.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Jaehyun muttered. “You had my heart, but your work had yours.”

“That’s not true.”

Jaehyun was firm. “It is and you know it.”

“I loved you,” you told him softly.

“Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

You gripped the railing to anchor yourself. It didn’t move, but you could feel yourself slipping into weakness. “I don’t know how to stop, Jaehyun. I think it’s a part of me now. It’s hard to stop doing something you’ve done your whole life.”

I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.

Maybe he was right. Maybe that woman was long gone.

A cloud of melancholy came over you, pouring over you and Jaehyun. He told you somberly, “I could have helped you if you would have let me in. But you were pushing me away.”

“I know,” you said, meeting his dark eyes. “But I wish I would have known back then. I never realized I was breaking us apart. Not until it was too late. I thought I was doing what was best…”

Jaehyun finished darkly, “You were doing what was best for yourself. Not for us.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but quickly accepted he was right and instead said, “I was wrong. I was selfish. I wasn’t considering how any of it made you feel and that’s a decision I have to live with now.”

“Do you regret it?” I need to know if my broken heart was worthwhile.

Your eyes burned. “Every day of my life.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questioned, voice barely above a whisper. “You got the promotion. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I thought it was,” you muttered. Your chest was swelling with self-disgust and agony and anger. Not at Jaehyun, but at yourself. “But when I lost you, I realized that everything I needed was already right there. Until it wasn’t.”

Jaehyun was quiet but pensive. As if he was trying to trace exactly where everything started going wrong.

Even in school, you were devoted. You were the valedictorian of your class. Jaehyun used to steal you away to kiss you behind the bleachers. But you would always be there for his basketball games, cheering him on better than any cheerleader.

High school sweethearts, he thought wistfully. In high school, you won prom king and queen. Everyone thought you would last forever. That only God himself could part you.

How beautiful it was to be young, dumb, and in love.

Jaehyun knew your issues stemmed from your childhood. When you were still in high school, sometimes you had to blow him off to study. He remembered you cancelling hangouts because your parents refused to let you out of their house until you studied until you were cross-eyed. Their house, their rules, was the policy.

But he also remembered those nights when he would hear a knock on his bedroom window and smile when he saw you beaming at him through the glass. One December night, you were crazy enough to sneak out during the nipping cold, shivering and rubbing your arms outside his window.

Though it was many years ago, Jaehyun remembered that night clearly. His mother made you hot cocoa and promised not to tattle. She always had a soft spot for you and held some disdain for your parents. She claimed they worked you too hard.

Everything was so perfect back then. He knew what changed, but he couldn’t understand why. You used to make time for him whenever you could. As the pressures of adulthood caught up to you, it all came to a slow, brutal end.

But why?

Then, leave. Those were the two words he would never forget. They were powerful than the I love you’s - more powerful than the I miss you’s. Your clipped, icy tone, would maybe someday be forgiven, but never forgotten.

A stubborn wound was forevermore slashed on his heart waiting for you to heal it.

You were breaking. Every part of you was crashing down. A familiar ache split your heart right down the middle. “I’ll never forgive myself for throwing away the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone and I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

Your ex-lover was mawkishly nostalgic and sentimental and never said he forgave you, for that would take a while longer, but told you, “I knew I was the second priority in your life after your career. And I was okay with that. Then, it started to feel like I had no place in it at all. I was at the end of my tether, a stranger to the woman I was supposed to marry, and I knew we couldn’t carry on like that, my love.”

My love. That was what Jaehyun always used to call you. Your eyes flickered. “Do you still…?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever completely get over you,” Jaehyun admitted forlornly.

That was when the dam broke. Jaehyun had dismantled you piece by piece and left you vulnerable. You had no strength to fight back the tears rolling down your cheeks.

Jaehyun’s arms, as they always were, were wide open. He pulled you into his warm embrace and let you sob into his chest, smoothing his hand down your back and protecting you from the sharp coldness of your own pain. You were beleaguered to remember the last time you let yourself cry. You let everything pile up until the water pressure became too much.

“Shh. It’s okay. Let it out,” Jaehyun crooned, gently stroking your hair. “You’re not weak.”

There was an ache resurfacing in your body and it was purely unshakable. Your heart was whole, but hollow. Only its pleas to be back with Jaehyun - where it belonged - rang out in the icebound, empty void.

Being in Jaehyun’s arms only made you nostalgic and the pain hit you harder. You thought regretfully of those moments in the past when he would hold you for all to see. And you remembered going to bed and always knowing he was still there, because you would feel his arms still tight around you and smile. Like he wanted to protect you, even while asleep.

You sobbed, “I don’t deserve you.”

Jaehyun gently pushed you back only a little and looked you in your eyes. He wiped your cheeks with his thumb and told you calmly, “You made a mistake. We all do.”

The gesture made you soft and weak. Goddamn it, you were so weak for him. Like your knees would give in any moment now.

“Not like the one I made, though.”

“That’s true,” Jaehyun said. “But do you regret it?”

Your voice wavered, “More than anything.”

“Then, I forgive you.”

You shook your head, not knowing how to accept that. You didn’t deserve forgiveness. You didn’t deserve understanding. But that was the kind of person Jaehyun was.

He deserves someone better than me, you thought somberly. But you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if he found that someone.

“You should hate me,” you said softly, voice cracking. “I broke your heart. I broke us.”

Jaehyun shook his head. “You know what my mother always says?”

“It doesn’t only matter if you break something, but if you’re willing to put it back together,” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of his mother. She always treated you like you were her own.

Jaehyun nodded and asked, “Are you willing to put us back together again?”

You mulled it over. There was no doubt that you were willing. Back then, you were too in your head to notice reality. Now, you were blindsided by pain and regret and inclined to do anything to make it stop. “What it I mess up again?”

“Relationships aren’t perfect. People fuck up and people make mistakes. You’re only human,” Jaehyun told you frankly. “I’ll be there to help you clean it up. But don’t let me pull all the weight. We both have to fight together.”

“Okay.” You knew what you wanted now. It wasn’t that job. It wasn’t a promotion. It was the man that had spent half his life loving you, and would still love you for the other half. “I’m willing.”

Jaehyun smiled. A part of him couldn’t fathom how this was happening. The hole in his heart was steadily being sealed. He pulled you back flush against his chest.

The tension in the air seemed to alleviate then. You could finally breathe again. Being in a tight space with the love of your life didn’t feel suffocating anymore, but closer to relief.

You were talking freely again. You missed just being able to have a conversation with Jaehyun, recalling those times when you would discuss anything under the sun. Long nights of talking the moon away knowing full well you had work in the morning hit you. With Jaehyun, the small talk was skipped. You could discuss anything and everything.

There was no worry, no fear. Sometimes, there would be tension, but never the unpleasant kind. Only moments ago, those times seemed like merely a distant memory. Now, there was hope that you had Jaehyun back.

In his arms, you realized that was where you belonged. It was your safe haven in a world filled with danger. Your secrets were safe with Jaehyun and you were free to be vulnerable, because you knew he would never betray you. No matter what happened between you both, whether you were angry or in love, you knew whatever you told each other would forever remain under lock and key.

“Do you remember the arch?” you asked, wistfully recalling what could’ve been. “I wanted a mistletoe up there. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought of kissing you underneath it for the first time as your wife.”

Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I remember. I also remember you wanted John Stamos to marry us because he was your, and I quote, ‘true first love.’”

You nudged his side. “Hey, I would have also accepted Shemar Moore.”

Goddamn it, now Jaehyun was thinking about kissing you. His eyes fell to your pretty lips, still as enticing as they used to be when you were his. Never had he wanted to kiss you so badly. Like it would heal the wounds caused by missing you.

Can I… can I kiss you?” Jaehyun asked.

You said with no hesitation, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Now that he had your permission, Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to envelop your lips in his. Only then did you realize how much you missed feeling his lips on yours, how much you craved tasting his tongue in your mouth. You had gone so long without, but ironically, he still felt like home. And making out with him felt right as ever.

Jaehyun kissed you so fiercely that he nearly swept you off balance and caught your hips in his arms. Your fingers threaded through his hair, back against the railing. He kissed you to make up with the wasted times he spent with other people. You kissed him to make up for the wasted times you could have spent with each other. To fill the void and patch each other back up.

He taught you what love was. It was letting each other in instead of freezing each other out. It was was building something beautiful together and fighting to protect it instead of letting it all fall apart and into ruins.

Kissing you eased Jaehyun’s heart. His pain was forgotten and he was overwhelmed with his undying love for you. He would never get over you, no matter how hard he tried. A love like the one you had would take more than a lifetime to get over you.

The way you immediately clicked, it was like you knew each other in a past live. Even now, his feelings were unabating. In his next life, it would still be you and only you. Always and forever.

You were so besotted with Jaehyun and the way his lips tasted that neither of you noticed the elevator door opening.

Yangyang cleared his throat. “Um, guys?”

Both of you whipped around, more than a little shocked to see the door open with Yangyang standing in the middle to prevent it from closing on you.

Jaehyun looked at you and asked, “How long have we been in here?”

“Approximately two hours,” Yangyang chirped. “You’re free to go now. By free to go, I mean please exit the lift. As you can see, there’s a bit of a line.”

You looked behind Yangyang and saw a couple of people impatiently waiting to travel upstairs. You lowered your head and flushed. Jaehyun laced his fingers through yours and led you outside of the elevator, smiling like a dumbass. He didn’t care who saw. He couldn’t have been any more happy than he was right now.

“Well, we’re free,” he said once you were both in the clear. Then, he frowned. “But we still have work.”

You winced. “And I wasn’t kidding about the place burning down. I really need to be there. I know how that sounds, but I promise I’ll make it up to you later. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun said, grabbing your wrist and kissing the back of your hand.

Your heart tugged at the gesture. Why’d he have to be so goddamn perfect?

You got on your toes and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, feeling butterflies swimming in your gut. It seemed they had come to visit again. “I’ll see you later, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun told you goodbye and watched you leave. It hurt a little to see you go, but he knew you would come back to him. You always did, even if it took a year and unlikely circumstances.

When you were gone, he turned around and grabbed his phone out of his pockets. He had to tell his mother that maybe she knew best after all.

Night fell. Jaehyun still hadn’t heard from you although you should have been off from work hours ago. A part of him was worried, but he still trusted that you wouldn’t give in to your old habits. It was Friday night. Maybe you were resting and would see him tomorrow.

Jaehyun went into his living room and played some music. The atmosphere reminded him of you. Holding you in his arms and spinning you around. Everywhere he went, he could still hear your voice and laugher ringing in his hair, like the ghost of you was haunting him.

He shook his head. You drove him mad. He accepted that he would never forget you, much less the way it felt to love you.

The doorbell ring and he could barely hear it over his music. Jaehyun didn’t pause it, but went to open his door and was pleasantly surprised to see you standing there.

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asked.

“I told you I would make it up to you,” you said, breath condensing in the air. You gestured to the pair of grocery bags in your arms.

It was Jaehyun’s natural instinct to take them out of your hands, and turning, he said, “Hurry up and come in. It’s cold outside.”

You didn’t need to be told twice and followed him immediately, shutting the door behind yourself. It was warm and cozy inside his apartment, as always. You hung your coat on the rack and glanced around, memories hitting you tenfold, square in the heart. Everywhere your eyes fell, you saw figures of you and Jaehyun.

Dancing in the living room. Movie night marathons on the couch. And racing down the hallway with your lips on the other’s and your hands desperately trying to remove each other’s clothes as you messily stumbled into the bedroom for a long night of loving.

“I see you’ve already set the mood,” you joked when you noticed the music playing, watching him set the groceries on the counter.

Jaehyun beamed. “I wasn’t even expecting company.”

“Sorry for showing up unannounced.” You smiled coyly, approaching the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you. And no, you can’t help, Chef.”

“Please?”

You grabbed a gigantic wooden spoon and pointed at him. “Sit your ass down.”

“Jesus. Alright, then,” Jaehyun said, lifting his arms defensively. Ever stubborn were you. The reminder roused a chuckle from him. “Have it your way then, bossy.”

“I will.”

Jaehyun shook his head, still cheesing like an idiot. You were still iron-willed. That part of you would never change.

You cooked dinner in Jaehyun’s apron and he laughed at how big it was on you. The memories were overwhelming now. It seemed that no matter where you were or what you were doing, his mind would always find a way to remind him of your presence.

But the memories didn’t have to be bitter or painful anymore. He wanted to try again. He wanted a fresh start, a chance to repaint the canvas and a clean slate. As long as you were both determined to make things work, Jaehyun had faith in you and him.

“Dinner was amazing,” Jaehyun complimented, throwing your dirty dishes in the sink to be remembered later. He stepped back over to the island and trapped you in his arms.

You peered up at him, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

Looking into your pretty eyes, Jaehyun couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss you anymore. You made a noise of surprise when he met his lips to yours, caught completely off-guard, but you kissed him back. It would be fighting your instincts not to.

You closed your eyes and let Jaehyun guide you, trusting he would never lead you astray. When he kissed you, he melted away your icebound surface and got under your skin, peeling you back layer by layer. You liked kissing Jaehyun. Way too much. Even now, you could still recall the first time you made out, hiding behind the bleachers on campus yet gigging loud enough for all to hear.

When it came to each other, you both were like moths to the dangerous flames of love. Love would always unite you again. You couldn’t resist those pretty, twinkling sparks of fire. And you couldn’t get enough of the burn.

Jaehyun was confused when you pulled away, but looked into your eyes again and saw a kind of sadness twinkle in them. Your voice was weak, “Why don’t you hate me?”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, baby,” Jaehyun said, finding your hand and squeezing it firmly. “And believe me, I tried. Even if a part of me did hate you, an even bigger part of me will always love you.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were sucking on his tongue again, wet kissing noises tangled in the sound of old school music.

Then, Jaehyun pressed you into the counter, kissing you even rougher. You were riling him up, moaning into his mouth and that noise would never not do it for him. A different kind of fire came over you when you noticed him very impatiently unbuttoning your blouse.

Same old Jaehyun. At heart, he was still the same as the cute boy you fell in love with. You were pleasantly impressed that kissing you alone still got him up.

You broke the kiss again to ask through jagged breath, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“Probably,” Jaehyun replied. Not that he gave a damn. Unless you did, of course. “Do you wanna stop?”

“Jaehyun, I literally have not had sex in over a year. If you don’t fuck my brains out I think I’ll cry.”

Jaehyun chuckled darkly. “That can be arranged.”

You made a noise of surprise when Jaehyun cautiously scooped you into his sturdy arms and lowered you onto the counter. You made out hotly, his hands continuing to quickly unbutton your blouse and yours pulling his shirt above his head.

The sight of his happy trail and toned abs made your core throb. And your mouth water. Your palms involuntarily slicked over them, feeling nothing but hard skin and muscle.

“See something you like?” Jaehyun asked, grinning in the most annoying way possible.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “Still a gym rat, I see.”

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. I still hit the gym with Johnny when we have spare time.”

That you knew. Despite the breakup, you and Jaehyun still had a ton of mutual friends, chiefly from high school. You recalled seeing Johnny post one of his gym visits with Jaehyun not too long ago.

And you also vividly remembered the sight of Jaehyun, donning sweats and a blank tank-top. He drove you absolutely feral. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and his biceps were flexed, showing off his muscle. You would always be a sucker for a burly man that could snap you in half if he so pleased.

Jaehyun expertly removed your bra and tossed it somewhere to be forgotten. He wanted to see your breasts bounce while he pounded you into oblivion. Your skirt followed, but Jaehyun slid your panties to your ankles at a agonizingly slow pace, all the while smiling like an idiot as you gave a needy and impatient whimper.

“You’re already so wet,” Jaehyun murmured, drawing an invisible pair of lines on your bare cunt with his fingers. “Did you miss me that much?”

You whimpered, “Please, Jay.”

Hearing you call out his name like that was all it took for Jaehyun to lose all sense of self-restraint and he spread your thighs apart with tenderness, burying himself between them. You let out a sharp cry, throwing your head back. Some of your best orgasms were the ones when Jaehyun ate you out until you physically could no longer take it and begged for him to stop.

Jaehyun targeted your clit immediately, a testament to the fact that he knew your body intimately. Your thighs clamped around the sides of his head, unaccustomed to the pressure.

He merely clasped your thighs in his palms and held them freestanding, undeterred as he continued to lap at you like with the hunger only a untamed beast could have.

“Fuck,” was all you could say, curses dangling from your lips. You had been touch-starved for over a year and the familiarity of Jaehyun’s touch was overwhelming in the best way possible.

Despite the fact Jaehyun handled you gently, with love and tenderness and nothing but, he ate you out like an animal.

Jaehyun longed for the taste of you, arousal gathering on his tongue. He loved unraveling you like this. You could never stay still, much less quiet when he was going down on you. The sight of you, head angled back and moaning his name nearly made him cum in his pants.

Your fingers clamped locks of his hair and Jaehyun groaned, somehow spurred on by the gesture. You were making noises left to right, feeling yourself nearing your peak in record time. A year of no sex factoring in a skilled partner would absolutely do that to you.

Your lover learned to recognize you at the threshold of release a very long time ago and briefly parted from your pussy, substituting his mouth with his fingers as he sang, “Just let go for me, baby. It’s okay.”

It was clear that your body had every intention of obeying him. Naturally, it submitted to Jaehyun, with no fear and no reluctance. He knew it and it knew him.

“Oh my God. Jaehyun,” you moaned, thighs twitching. Not wanting to hurt him, you clamped your nails into the counter, eyes closed as the pressure threatened to consume you from head to toe.

Jaehyun talked you through it, whispering, “Do it for me, baby. Just let go.”

Not too much longer, orgasm seized you, rendering you weak and defenseless. You had no strength in your body to fight it even if you wanted to, weakened by his touch. Your toes clenched and you cried his name, fingernails scraping the island roughly enough to damage both your nails and the countertop.

Jaehyun didn’t stop eating you out until you went rigid, chest undulating. You looked a hot mess, heaving for breath and your lips parted, easing the airflow.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked when he moved from between your legs, fighting off a smirk at the sight of you completely disheveled.

“Not until you fuck me,” you rasped, still needy in spite of still trying to catch your breath.

Jaehyun snickered and tugged his pants down, underwear soon giving chase. You positively gawked when you saw his bare, thick dick. It never failed to make your mouth water. And your body tremble with release.

You kept your nails at your sides as Jaehyun lined his cock up at your entrance, gently easing himself past your sheath-like walls. He still clasped his hands at your thighs, brows crumpling with concentration. You were still so goddamn tight, clamping around him with a grip almost vice-like.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands clenching into fists.

“Shh,” Jaehyun whispered, moving his mouth to the side of your face. There was a catch in your breath when you noticed his lips brushing against your ear, breath tickling your nape. “Open up for me, baby.”

The sensation of being filled completely made you feel nothing short of relief. There was a wet noise when Jaehyun’s hips smacked against your own, the last thrust followed by one even deeper. You tried your best to take all of him, wanting to please him even if it was the last thing you did.

Jaehyun slipped out of his own trance briefly enough to mention, “I didn’t wear a condom.”

“Just pull out,” you said, in no state of mind to give a damn. You liked the feeling of him fucking you nice and raw.

“We’re definitely a pair of idiots.”

You snickered and found his hand, slipping your fingers through his. “You’re my idiot and I’m your idiot. That’s all that matters.”

Jaehyun smiled into the crook of your neck, eventually clamping his teeth there to conceal a moan at your expense.

He lifted his head and drew back to admire the entire view, watching his cock disappear between your legs over and over again borderline obsessively. There was something about you that he would never get tired of. He liked holding you close and loving you hard.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Jaehyun exhaled, voice full of sincerity. And raw pleasure.

You were burning up, withering heat blindsiding you. Jaehyun was making short work of you. It felt like love-making rather than plain old fucking, all things considered. Jaehyun’s gentle, steady pace as he whispered sweet little nothings in your ear, old school romance songs faded out in the background all the while.

All you could focus on was Jaehyun. He was all you could hear, all you could feel. You were driven by the feeling of your walls garroting his size, the sounds of the little groans he couldn’t smother into your skin and his affectionate words urging you closer to climax.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” you sighed, tightening your hold around his hand. It was a tiny, sweet gesture. “Please? I wanna hear you.”

Jaehyun obeyed you because there wasn’t a damn thing on this earth he wouldn’t do for you. You owned him and you knew it.

Jaehyun swore when you clamped around his dick even harder. He watched your breasts bounce, your whole body unstill. Even your hands were scrambling, releasing him and now finding purchase in his back. “I love you,” he sighed, kneading your breasts.

“I love you, too,” you moaned, feeling light as ever. He always took you to another dimension whenever you were together, but especially when he was fucking you within an inch of your life.

I love you, too. Jaehyun was beaming. That was the first time he’d heard you say it in over a year and you had no idea how badly he needed to hear it again now.

Jaehyun marked up your neck, leaving a trail of himself like souvenirs for you to remember in his absence. Your pulse thumped rapidly, your heart on the verge of tearing out of your chest, landing into his palms where it belonged. Now, your heartache was - at long last - soothed.

There were no words to aptly describe your affection towards Jaehyun. Your love for him ran to an inexplicably deep extent with seemingly no end. It was all you could think about while he fucked you, how badly you needed him in your life. How the sensations he made you feel were irreplicable and you were content enough to simply be in his arms.

Your lover never lasted very long when fucking you bare and raw and sensing himself approaching climax, Jaehyun brought his fingers to your clit, already swollen from release. A gasp tore from your throat when he fondled with the sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to facilitate an orgasm out of you.

“Jaehyun,” you whined. You reached for his hand, sensitive.

Jaehyun grabbed your hand with his spare one and slipped his fingers through again for you to squeeze. “It’s okay, my love. I want you to cum,” he said gently, biting your sweet spot.

He was making short work of you. Your climax threatened to ensnare you with a force powerful enough to snap you in half. You needed it. More than anything, you needed it.

You hauled your nails over his back, drawing long, red lines across the naked flesh. Jaehyun hissed darkly, pace quickening and coming even harder. You were driving him mad and vice versa. Your body had never been more confused than it was in that moment, barely willing itself to not writhe away but simultaneously matching his thrusts, wanting to build the pleasure yet somehow escape it all at once.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you warned in a impassioned chant, choking on your lack of breath. “I’m…”

Your body quivered, release stealing the rest of your words before you could speak them. You found Jaehyun’s hand again, squeezing it for dear life. The orgasm was so heavy you almost collapsed in on yourself and Jaehyun. You were seeing white, burning red, emitting Jaehyun’s name in a sharp cry.

Jaehyun felt you clenching around his cock with climax and immediately withdrew, knowing he would bust a nut inside you if he stayed a second longer. “Open your mouth,” Jaehyun told you, voice husky, thick with lust.

It was almost enough to break you all over again.

You did as instructed, no hesitation required. Jaehyun fitted his cock inside your mouth, moaning at how warm it was. You took him in, wanting to get him off and taste him dripping down your throat.

When he saw you, cheeks hollowed with his rigid cock in your mouth, Jaehyun nearly came then and there. He fucked your mouth, guttural little praises dangling from his lips.

Your thighs clenched tightly, hot sparks still aflame between. He got you riled up effortlessly, hardly ever needing to try. There was something about him that you were naturally attracted to, an unshakable kind of attraction. You couldn’t fathom why you couldn’t escape him, why your body and heart was seized by your lover.

“So good,” Jaehyun grunted, pace accelerating.

Jaehyun fucked your throat until he came, emptying his balls into your mouth at long last. Eagerly, you swallowed as much as you could, an amalgamation of his release and your saliva dribbling down your chin and onto your naked, heaving breasts.

And the sight positively wrecked him.

“Fuck,” you rasped, still registering what the hell had happened.

Jaehyun’s eyes flashed with alarm. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just that that’s the best sex I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes and quipped, “That’s the only sex you’ve had in a while.”

“Still the best.”

Jaehyun laughed, eyes crinkling. “Round two?”

“God, yes,” you groaned, still feeling unalloyed pleasure burning between your thighs.

Jaehyun scooped your bare body into his arms again and carried you into his room, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips and neck all the while.

You smiled to yourself in the morning when you roused, feeling Jaehyun’s arms still wrapped loosely around your waist.

Everything had shifted then. Though you initially had plans of spending the holidays buried in work, you came to find that Jaehyun’s warm embrace was the greatest gift you could have asked for on Christmas day. There was none of the loneliness and dwelling you dreaded, only making brand new memories with the man you loved with your entire heart, mind and soul.

On Christmas day, you visited his mother’s house where his family had gathered, recognized familiar faces that were surprisingly all too glad to see you again.

When Jaehyun’s mother opened the front door, you greeted bashfully, “Hi, Mrs. Jung.”

“I knew we would meet again,” Mrs. Jung said softly, simpering in a self-satisfied manner. “Come in, dear. You’re always welcome in our home.”

You stepped inside the house, Jaehyun following suit once exchanging a silent, understanding glance with his mother. As always, she was right.

As you glanced around, nostalgia hit you tenfold. Everywhere you looked, there were memories of you and Jaehyun. You could see you both running up the stairs excitedly and Mrs. Jung scolding you about horse-playing indoors. When your eyes fell to the kitchen, you saw yourself joining the Jung’s for dinner, sitting directly beside your lover.

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, given that seasonal music was blaring, and said, “I’m going to have a talk with my brother-in-law for a second. Be on your best behavior and don’t try to escape out a window. Old habits die hard.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him. “Go. I’ll be right here,” you said, heart wrenching softly.

Jaehyun snickered and slithered away.

In his place came someone you were very familiar with.

“Nostalgia?”

You whirled around, instantly recognizing the voice as Taeyong’s, one of Jaehyun’s many, many cousins.

“I made a lot of memories here. I’ll never forget any of it,” you replied honestly. “Long time, no see.”

Taeyong bobbed his head in agreement. “Definitely. I was scared that I’d never see you again.”

“Why is that?” Your curiosity was piqued. You never imagined Jaehyun’s family would anticipate meeting you once more. It was the stark opposite of your expectations.

Taeyong leaned closer like he was telling you someone’s deepest, darkest secret, and whispered, “Between you and I, Jaehyun hasn’t been the same since the breakup. Not a happy camper. You were a part of his life for so long that we were all convinced he would never adjust to living one without you again.”

Visioning a morose, heartbroken Jaehyun made you frown. “I did that.”

“You absolutely did. You broke the poor guy’s heart and made him unbearable. He didn’t deserve that. And I didn’t deserve to have to put up with his insufferable ass,” Taeyong scoffed offhandedly, though you knew his words were lighthearted. “But you fixed it.”

“I guess I did that, too,” you exhaled contentedly, turning your head to spot Jaehyun chatting with his brother. That made you beam. Everything had fallen apart, shattered into pieces, but you were both willing to do the work and put them together.

“He’s himself again,” Taeyong said, following your gaze. “Thank you for giving me my favorite cousin back.”

“I should have never taken him away in the first place.”

Taeyong gave you a playful, half-assed attempt at consoling, “Good people do bad things. We all fuck up. Just maybe not as badly as you.”

You nudged his side.

He continued, turning somewhat sober, “He forgives you. But this won’t work out until you also forgive yourself.”

“You’re so young, but so wise,” you whispered, slightly touched.

Taeyong snickered. “It runs in the family,” he said, patting your back before turning away.

You merely stood there, rooted in place. Taeyong had given you something to muse on you. You realized a part of you was still clinging onto guilt, unable to rationalize your own decisions. You were so convinced that you were undeserving of Jaehyun’s love and courtesy that you had forgotten how to move on from your errors.

It would be a process. But a step a day was better than none at all.

You beamed when you noticed Jaehyun approaching you and he returned it, outstretching his hand and asking, “May I steal a dance?”

“Of course,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

Jaehyun brought you from the foyer to the living room where mainly everybody had gathered to dance, spinning you in his arms as holiday music filled the air.

You swept some free strands of hair from his handsome face, admiring the view only a little higher up than you. Even in a room filled to the hilt with people, Jaehyun and Jaehyun alone was all you could see. Everyone else faded. It was only you and your lover, swaying to the rhythm of a seasonal song.

“This feels like senior prom, but Christmas edition,” Jaehyun quipped.

You snickered delightfully. “I remember when we were announced prom king and queen. I like how nobody was surprised.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Jaehyun joined you for the first dance, gently whirling you around in front of several prying eyes, but you didn’t care. To you, the room was as good as empty. They were faceless, nameless people with no contribution or value, no relation to you and your blossoming romance with Jaehyun.

It was an experience you never knew you needed back then. Maybe in that moment, you knew it was fate. That one way or another, Jaehyun was inevitably the one you would grow old and gray-haired with.

Even now, as you stared into his pretty brown eyes, you knew that this was the man you wanted a future with.

Jaehyun glanced up and said, “Look.”

You did as told, smiling fondly as you noticed the mistletoe hanging above your heads. A part of you wondered if it was a coincidence or if he chose this spot deliberately. “I remember kissing you in front of everyone,” Jaehyun added, full of mischief.

You played along and hummed, “I’m not sure if I recall. Care to remind me?”

Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to lock lips with you, tasting hot cocoa on your tongue. You could taste gingerbread on his and the thought made you giggle into his mouth. There was something about it - something about Jaehyun - that made every tiny thing mean a billion times more.

All of the whimsical little things made your heart swell with happiness.

“Yo, chill, you horn dogs. There’s children,” scolded Jaehyun’s other cousin Mark, covering his little cousin’s eyes. His family gave you a headache. Every time you learned them all, it was as if another cousin popped out of thin air.

You and Jaehyun pulled away, snickering. You leaned on your toes, giving his lips one final peck before deciding you’d had your fill.

Days of being Jaehyun’s again turned into some of the happiest months of your life. You were letting go of some of your old habits and setting some past trauma free. There were a handful of grim times, but you both made the effort to repair things before they spiraled out of control.

Excuses had run their course. Jaehyun would ask you on dates and you’d agree more, overworking yourself less. Until now, you never realized that putting some distance between yourself and the stresses of work was what it took to be happier. You had made the earth-shattering mistake of convincing yourself that hard work equated happiness.

The two of you agreed to take things slow, afraid rushing would land you in an achingly familiar predicament, but you couldn’t deny that things had been speeding up. And Jaehyun already knew that it would forever be you.

It was another long, brutal day of work and nothing was out of the ordinary. You were running across the office, balancing direct orders on top of your daily tasks. You needed six skins to have a job like this. Three to balance the roles of multiple people and another three to endure the wear and tear.

Ten, your favorite co-worker, tracked you down and stopped you dead in your tracks to say, “Hey, slow down a second. Someone’s here to see you.”

You did the opposite of slowing down, still walking and as he followed you, said, “Tell them I’m taking a sick day, would you? Thanks, Tennie.”

“I don’t think so,” Ten said, donning an amused look. Which successfully made you pause in confusion. Usually, Ten never hesitated to cover for you. “You’re going to want to hear what this guy has to say. I swear.”

Very reluctantly, you agreed to follow Ten, curiosity piqued as you wondered who in the hell would dare interrupt you in the middle of a swift-paced work day.

Jung Jaehyun. That was who.

You made a face of confusion when you saw him there, smiling at you like an idiot. Confused, you asked, “Jay, you couldn’t text or call?”

“What I’m about to do is a bit difficult to do over the phone,” Jaehyun retorted, admiring your state of obliviousness.

You huffed, “What are you…”

You cut yourself off when you noticed one of the staff hand Jaehyun a tiny box and he proceeded to crouch on one knee. The realization made your heart thud, pulse quickening.

Jaehyun started, “Baby, I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of how to say this. I had to have tried to practice this a million times before I decided to talk to you from my heart.”

Your co-workers all gathered around, and you noticed even your boss observing from the corner of your eyes, but your gaze was locked on Jaehyun and no one but.

Your lover fought his nerves and added, “We met when we were in high school. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were so young, dumb, and drunk off learning what true love was for the first time. We couldn’t resist each other.”

The memories made your heart melt, taut with ecstasy.

“Then, we got older. And things got more complicated, but in spite of that, we never stopped loving each other. Not for a second,” Jaehyun declared, impassioned. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way. No matter what has changed between us.”

Jaehyun was staring you dead in the eyes, watching your face melt with awe. It gave him all the courage he needed.

“You made it so easy to fall in love with you but so hard to fall back out. And I don’t want to. I adore you, my love. Thoughts of you keep me up and night, restless. You make me crazy.”

Your eyes burned, fighting an oncoming threat of tears with every passing word. Jaehyun had swept you off your feet, making you feel emotions you never knew existed.

“I know we’ve been through thick and thin, baby. But we were there for each other. And even when we separated, we found our way right back into each other’s arms,” your lover added.

You wanted to pinch yourself, determine if you were dreaming. Even though Jaehyun had proposed once to you before, you would never get used to the wave of emotion that plagued you, rendering you soft and full of glee.

“I didn’t know what love was until I fell for you. You’re my first love and all these years by your side have only solidified my courage that I want you to be my last. You are the only woman on this earth I can imagine a future with and if it’s not you, then I know there’s nobody else out there for me.”

Ten was smartly grabbing a box of tissues for safe measure.

Jaehyun’s voice got softer, “Let’s try again, my love. Let’s do this one more time - one last time. Will you marry me?”

Now, you had the spotlight. Ten was none too subtly mouthing, “Say ‘yes.’” Everybody was anticipating your reaction and you wondered exactly how long in advance everyone had been in on this little surprise except for you.

There was no hesitation and you practically screamed as you chanted, “Yes!”

Jaehyun, much like the last time he proposed to you, swept you into his arms and kissed you to death, effectively silencing you. The room erupted in cheer. Everybody was glad to get a break from their tedious jobs and witness a moment as beautiful as this one.

The champagne was already popping. Your fiancé whirled you in your arms and you told him affectionately, “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Jaehyun said, incapable of getting enough.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Let me love you,” your fiancé said, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And you were. “That’s all you have to do.”

You smiled, pretending to mull it over. “I think I can let that happen.”

Jaehyun was over the moon. There were no words to describe how ecstatic he was. He missed this feeling and he was more than glad that it had returned. “Merry Christmas,” he said playfully.

“Jaehyun, it is literally the end of February. You wished me Happy Valentines Day after fucking my brains out on your birthday,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Still,” your fiancé said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and cheesing at the memory of fucking you raw again. “Marrying you is the best gift I could ever ask for.”

You smiled in agreement. And fought a smirk as you remembered you had your own little surprise for your betrothed, waiting for you at home on the bathroom counter.

Jesus Christ, you were going to need a bigger place to stay.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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baekhyunsbestie · 2 months ago

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── ❝ truth be told ❞ 🐰ྀི ̟!!

⟢ a pediatrician!baekhyun au req'd by this lovely anonie <3 :') ty baby!

sum: you and baekhyun were college sweethearts, bound by shared dreams of a future together. but when he was accepted to a medical residency program across the country, you kept a secret—you're pregnant. fearing that your news would derail his dream of becoming a doctor, you chose to disappear, raising your daughter alone. three years later, in a new city, you bring your little girl in for a routine check-up, only to discover her pediatrician is none other than baekhyun, her father.

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 24.2k+ words. omg Hahaha 🫣. baekhyun x f!reader. chanyeol x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. lovers to strangers to co-parents to lovers again. angst, slow burn, fluffy, then we get reaaaallll smutty ⟡ pet names, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, p in v, bulge kink, creampie, slight breeding kink (y'all should know me by now 🤟🏼😣) ⟡ ALSO! i made a playlist for you guys to vibe out to while you read cus i love u <3 :') its linked in the title!!!

you and baekhyun had once been the epitome of college sweethearts—late-night study sessions that bled into spontaneous adventures, laughter, and whispered dreams of a future together. you were inseparable, his drive to become a doctor and your quiet dream of building a life with him making everything feel so perfect. you could picture it all—the home, the life, the love, knowing you’d be together forever.

during those years, you moved in together. things got serious quickly. talks of marriage, kids, and a future you’d both start building when the time was right were always at the forefront. but as much as you both wanted to dive in right away, you both agreed that you’d wait until baekhyun had at least finished his schooling and residency. it made perfect sense—his dream of becoming a doctor came first, and you were happy to support him, knowing you’d have a lifetime to make it all happen.

you’d completed undergrad together, then post-grad, and now, with your master’s behind you, baekhyun was finishing med school and applying to residency programs. everything seemed to be unfolding just as it should.

but life, as it tends to do, shifted unexpectedly.

when baekhyun’s acceptance letter arrived—the one from his dream residency program across the country—your world tilted, skewed into something unrecognizable. this was his number one pick, the culmination of years of sacrifice and determination. you should’ve been ecstatic, screaming with joy for him, for his future. but instead, a foreign weight settled low in your stomach, twisting into something unnameable.

you’d only just found out, barely two days ago. pregnant. the word clung to you like a vice, heavy and suffocating. you hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even considered it a possibility. and yet, here it was—undeniable. that stupid test, its second line blaring back at you like a neon sign, mocking the life you thought you had under control.

you stared at it, willing the line to fade, to disappear, to become a cruel trick of your imagination. but it didn’t. and the next test didn’t either. nor the one after. five little sticks, five blaring truths. undeniable. inescapable.

you didn’t want to hold him back. not when his dreams were so close. not when the future he had worked so hard for was finally within his grasp.

so you made a decision. you couldn’t tell him. you couldn’t bear to see the guilt and the pain in his eyes as he would undoubtedly sacrifice his dreams for you and the baby. you thought it was the right thing to do, that you were doing him a favor by disappearing, by cutting off all contact.

you had moved to a new city—far from the places where memories of baekhyun lingered, far from the shadow of the life you’d carefully unraveled. it wasn’t easy; untangling yourself from him had felt like pulling threads from a tapestry until it barely resembled what it once was. but over time, you found a rhythm. a life where thoughts of him became a quiet hum rather than a deafening roar, where the love that had once consumed you slipped quietly into the recesses of your heart.

and now, three years later, you stand here as someone completely transformed: a mother.

raising your daughter alone had its challenges, sure, but you couldn’t deny the sense of purpose it gave you. you were made for this. or maybe it was her—the tiny miracle who had made it all feel so natural. from the moment she came into the world, she was an angel, a light so radiant it softened even the hardest days.

sure, she had her moments. she was a toddler, after all, still learning how to navigate big feelings in a little body. but her resilience—the way she could fall apart one minute and bounce back the next—made everything easier. she was your shadow, your little mimic, always wanting to copy everything you did.

the love she gave you was pure and boundless, something you hadn’t realized could exist until she was in your arms. it was a love that filled the spaces in you that you didn’t even know were empty, a love that made the sacrifices and sleepless nights worth it.

you often found yourself wondering if she was a gift straight from the universe, a little piece of heaven sent just for you. every smile she gave, every tight hug, every soft ‘i love you, mommy’ felt like proof that you were the luckiest soul alive.

and as you watched her now, her tiny fingers curled around her favorite stuffed bunny, a swell of overwhelming gratitude washed over you. life had twisted and turned in ways you never could’ve anticipated, but somehow, in her, it had gifted you everything you’d ever need.

maybe it was the depth of love she gave, the way she radiated warmth and light, that made the thought of telling baekhyun even more terrifying. she was everything—the way her laughter could turn any bad day around, the way her eyes sparkled with innocence and curiosity. a fragile little soul, so beautiful it almost hurt. and you knew, deep down, that baekhyun would’ve adored her. loved her more than words could describe.

the thought of it—of him finding out, of him knowing you’d kept her from him, hidden this piece of him, this precious life from him—it twisted something deep inside you. it made your chest tighten, your thoughts spiral. the guilt, the shame—it felt like a constant ache, one that only grew the more you thought about it.

you and baekhyun talked about it, after all—the future you both dreamed of. lazy nights tangled together under blankets, whispering about what life would look like years down the road. marriage, a house filled with warmth and laughter, children.

he wanted a family with you. he was so sure of it, so sure of you. he used to say that he couldn’t imagine anyone else being the mother of his kids. the way he looked at you when he said it—it was as if his soul had reached out, seen yours, and said, there she is, the one we’ve been waiting for.

he was a dreamer. he’d mapped it all out in his head—two girls, two boys. his perfect little quartet. the oldest, a girl, to set the tone, to be the leader of the pack. then a boy to balance things out, another boy to roughhouse and make the middle feel less lonely, and finally, the baby of the family, a girl to soften the edges of the chaos. he laughed at the improbability of it all, at how life doesn’t work like that, but he loved dreaming about it anyway.

you still remembered the way his face lit up when you’d asked him, teasing, what he’d name his first daughter.

he didn’t even hesitate. he looked up at you, that smile you used to know better than your own, and said, minji.

your little girl, minji, was the brightest star in your universe, her laughter a melody that softened every hard edge of your world. her smile—warm and golden—was like sunlight spilling into the corners of your heart, chasing away the shadows that lingered from the life you left behind. she was growing so fast, each day a reminder of how fleeting these moments were, and how much you wanted to hold onto them.

sometimes, though, when the house was quiet and the weight of the past crept in, you allowed yourself to think about baekhyun. it was never for long—just a passing thought, a wondering what if. you didn’t dare to linger, didn’t dare to stir up the bittersweet ache of old feelings and lingering regrets. he had his life now, and you had yours.

but still, he had been the love of your life, and that kind of love doesn’t just disappear. curiosity tugged at you from time to time. late at night, when minji was fast asleep, you’d catch yourself wondering what he was doing, where he was, if he ever thought about you, too.

yet no matter how strong the urge, you never gave in. you wouldn’t let yourself open his socials, wouldn’t let yourself peer into the window of the life he was living without you. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to know—it was that you couldn’t. because knowing might hurt more than not knowing, and the delicate balance you’d created would come crashing down.

you hadn’t blocked him, not on anything. instead, you deleted every account, wiped your digital footprint clean, and changed your number. you made sure there was no way for him to reach you, no thread he could pull to unravel the wall you’d built between you.

you never allowed yourself to dwell on how hurt he might have been—how confused he must’ve felt, waiting for a call or a text that never came. the promises you’d made to him echoed in your mind, haunting you. i’ll tell him when the time is right. but the right time never came.

and then she was born. tiny fingers curling around yours, eyes so full of life. she reached milestones—her first smile, her first steps, her first word—and with each one, the weight of telling him grew heavier. how could you? how could you drop this truth on him after he’d already missed so much?

you imagined his reaction: the sharp edge of his disappointment, the rawness of his hurt, the anger that would burn in his chest. he’d ask you why—why did you wait? why did you let so much time pass? and you’d have no answer, nothing that could make it right.

as the years went by, the truth turned into a mountain too steep to climb. every day that passed felt like another brick in the wall separating you. every moment you stayed silent made it harder to imagine breaking that silence.

you told yourself it was for the best. you told yourself he deserved better than someone who had made this choice, this mess.

because deep down, you believed it: you didn’t deserve him. not anymore. not after this

the sound of tiny sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor filled the pediatrician’s office as you followed your daughter toward the nurse’s station. she clutched her favorite stuffed animal tightly in one hand while the other reached back for yours, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the colorful murals on the walls.

it was a routine check-up for minji, nothing out of the ordinary. she had been a healthy, happy child since birth, and today was just another appointment to ensure that everything was progressing as it should.

you had scheduled the appointment weeks ago, not knowing who the pediatrician was going to be. when you walked into the small, sunlit office, minji tugged excitedly on your sleeve, her eyes wide with curiosity at the brightly colored walls and the small toys scattered around the waiting room.

“mommy, look!” she gasped, pointing to a painted giraffe. her excitement momentarily eased the nervous flutter in your stomach. “a giraffe!”

“yes, it is, bun! good job!” you smile down at the little girl, holding your hand tightly.

it had been over three years. three years since you’d left your old life—and him—behind. baekhyun was supposed to be a part of your daughter’s story, but you made the impossible choice of keeping him out of it. his dreams had always been so big, and you didn’t want to weigh them down with your own.

a medical assistant called your name, her warm, practiced smile cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

you scooped your daughter into your arms, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed bunny, and followed the nurse into the examination room. she wriggled slightly but settled on your lap, the bunny tucked snugly under her chin as she began the usual routine.

height. weight. temperature. the nurse kept up a cheerful, steady rhythm of chatter, her voice a soft hum in the background as your daughter giggled at the stickers offered to her.

“dr. byun will be in shortly,” the medical assistant said with a final smile before leaving the room.

your heart stopped.

'dr. byun'?

no. it couldn’t be him. it had to be a coincidence. it was a common enough name, wasn’t it? but the sound of it crashed into you, unraveling the calm façade you’d so carefully built.

you told yourself you were being ridiculous. you told yourself to breathe. but the name echoed in your head, louder with every passing second, until you could barely hear your own thoughts over the roar of panic rising in your chest.

then came the knock.

soft. polite.

the door creaked open, and time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as he stepped inside.

your breath caught in your throat.

it was him.

fuck.

no.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this. this wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. there were plans you never made, conversations you never had.

this was a complete and utter nightmare. and there was no waking up from it.

“hi, i’m dr. byun—” his voice wavered, the words barely leaving his lips before they caught in his throat. his eyes found yours, wide with recognition, a spark of disbelief flashing like lightning in a storm.

his gaze drifted downward, landing on the little girl perched on your lap. her tiny hands clutched your sweater, her curious eyes meeting his with unfiltered wonder.

for a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.

his lips parted, and your name slipped out, soft and breathless, as if saying it might make the moment vanish. “it’s you,” he murmured, a mixture of shock and something deeper lacing his tone.

you couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t push past the lump forming in your throat. it was as though every nerve in your body had frozen, locked under the weight of his stare.

your daughter, oblivious to the tension coiling around you, tilted her head with a sunny smile. her voice rang out, bright and pure, shattering the silence like glass.

“hi, dr. byun!” she chirped, her words sweet and unassuming, a small anchor of innocence in the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to pull you under.

baekhyun’s eyes widened instantly, flickering between you and her. you could see the cogs in his mind turning, the pieces falling into place far quicker than you were ready for.

his gaze lingered on her—studying, comparing. the resemblance was impossible to ignore. the same dark, expressive eyes that had once melted your heart, the same warm, radiant smile that mirrored his own.

“is…is she?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he wasn’t asking you but trying to make sense of the impossible himself. his eyes never left her, as if every second he stared brought him closer to the undeniable truth.

her delicate features were a perfect blend of you both, like a portrait painted with pieces of your souls. the curve of his nose graced her face, paired with the flush of your rosy cheeks. his silky black hair framed her tiny head, while your lips formed the gentle pout she wore even in sleep. your eyes shone through hers, but her ears—those were unmistakably his. she was everything you were, everything he was—woven together into this perfect, fragile little person, carrying pieces of a love that felt both timeless and out of reach. and now, looking at her, there was no denying it.

your mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. you tried to speak, to explain, to say something—anything—but all that escaped was a breath, shallow and lost in the silence that filled the space between you. the truth hung there, thick and fragile, like a thread that could snap at any moment, leaving you exposed.

you could only nod, slow and uncertain, as the weight of everything pressed down on you. the guilt was suffocating, heavy like a stone lodged in your chest, threatening to spill out in the form of tears you couldn’t afford to shed. but there was no escaping it anymore.

she was his.

baekhyun sank to his knees in front of her, his movements tentative, as if afraid that any sudden motion might make her disappear. he leaned in, eyes soft with a mixture of awe and something deeper, something unspoken.

“so, tell me. what’s your name, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle, tender, the words falling from his lips like a promise he wasn’t quite ready to make.

“minji,” she said proudly, her tiny hands holding up her stuffed bunny, as though it were the most important thing in the world. “this is sonny. she’s a bunny.”

the moment her name reached his ears, something shifted in baekhyun’s chest. his heart skipped, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, soft and amazed. for a brief second, he was lost in the memory of a quiet conversation—the one where you’d asked him what he would want to name your daughter, and how that moment, so simple, had felt like a lifetime ago.

“hi, minji,” he said softly, his voice trembling as his eyes locked onto her small, curious face. he crouched slightly, lowering himself to her level, and the words caught in his throat. “i’m…” his gaze flickered upward to yours, and in that brief second, the weight of it all was laid bare. his expression faltered, his eyes glossing with unshed tears, carrying the unspoken words and unresolved emotions that hung heavy between you.

you saw it then—the man he was before, the one you fell for, unchanged and yet altered by time and pain.

“…a good friend of your mommy’s,” he finally managed, the words shaky but kind.

minji giggled, her laughter light and carefree, like a burst of sunshine breaking through a storm. “mommy has lots of friends!” she chirped, her innocence unknowingly twisting the knife in baekhyun’s chest.

he nodded with a soft smile, his lips barely curving, as if the weight of her words was too much to bear. “she does, doesn’t she?” he murmured. his hands moved carefully as he began preparing for her exam, every motion deliberate, like he was trying to steady himself through the task.

but his eyes… his eyes stayed rooted to the ground, skirting around yours as if meeting your gaze would undo him entirely. and as you stood there, watching him avoid you, something inside you cracked. you knew why. you knew he wasn’t ready yet—not to face you, not to confront the flood of everything that had been left unsaid.

as baekhyun began the check-up, it was as if the floodgates of your heart had been ripped open. memories surged in, overwhelming you like a tidal wave—those plans you had once woven together, the future you had dreamed of, the life you thought you’d build before everything crumbled. nearly four years had passed since you disappeared without a trace, but those dreams now felt like fragile, delicate threads, tangled in the web of secrets you’d spun to protect him.

baekhyun moved with the same calm professionalism that you remembered—his hands steady and sure as he worked. but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, from the way he interacted with minji—his touch soft and deliberate, his voice lilting with that same soothing cadence. it was a tenderness that sliced through you, sharp and immediate, a reminder of everything you’d lost. how could you have let him slip away? how could you have convinced yourself that walking away was the right choice?

watching him, gently checking minji’s ears, his voice quieting her in the way he once did for you, something inside you twisted painfully. you couldn’t run from him anymore. not now. not ever again.

the exam ended far too quickly. minji bounced off the examination table, her bunny clutched in her small arms, and baekhyun handed you a stack of papers—educational handouts, visit summaries, the usual paperwork from a child’s wellness check. his fingers brushed yours as he passed them to you, and the brief touch left a burning trail that lingered long after.

minji’s small hand tugged at your sleeve, warm and insistent, her voice a soft melody that cut through the heavy air. “mommy, mommy! can we go play now?”

you forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. the weight of the moment pressed on your chest, and you fought to keep the tears from falling. “sure, bun. we’ll go in just a minute.”

the word bun hung in the air between you, and baekhyun flinched. his eyes flickered with something raw, a mix of pain and recognition. that name. it was something he used to call you— a relic of a past that felt both distant and achingly close.

his gaze didn’t leave you, like he was trying to unravel the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he was searching for something buried deep within you. the space between you both thickened, heavy with unspoken words. it felt suffocating, like the air was being stolen from your lungs. this was it. the moment that would change everything.

after what felt like an eternity, baekhyun cleared his throat, his voice thick with restraint. “we need to talk,” he said, the words heavy and laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “please… i just… i have so many questions.”

you nodded quickly, the anxiety twisting your insides into knots. “um, sure… i can meet you after i drop her off at daycare?” your words rushed out, frantic, as your brow furrowed in uncertainty.

"there’s a coffee shop nearby," he murmured, his voice soft yet steady, the words deliberate. his hand moved to pull out a notepad, pen poised above the paper. with a few swift strokes, he jotted down the name of the place before folding the paper and handing it to you. "i have a couple more patients to see this morning. do you think you can meet me there in an hour?"

his voice was calm, but his eyes—those eyes—told a different story. they flickered with something raw, something desperate, like a storm fighting its way to the surface.

you took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing his, a small shock of warmth shooting through you at the touch. you glanced down at the paper, his handwriting still familiar, though now slightly uneven, as if his nerves had bled into the ink. beneath the coffee shop's name, his number was written—neat but hurried, a subtle tremor in the lines.

you looked back up, and his gaze met yours—quiet, intense, full of unspoken things. without a word, he nodded toward the paper, his voice steady but laced with something fragile, something that didn’t quite fit with the man you knew. "that's my number, bun. just in case you're running late or something."

you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it felt tight, strained. his nickname for you—a small, tender thing—lingered in the air like a spark. you felt it in your chest, but the words caught in your throat. too much. too many emotions swirling. your hands moved on instinct, gathering minji’s things, offering him a tight, polite smile before ushering your daughter out of the room.

but just as you turned to leave, you swore you heard him whisper—barely audible, a plea caught between his teeth, "please, don't leave me hanging this time."

it hit you like a blow to the gut, leaving you breathless. the weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating.

and in that moment, you knew with brutal clarity—you deserved that.

you sat there, the weight of your nerves pressing down on you, each breath feeling too loud in the quiet of the café. baekhyun chatted casually with the barista, ordering drinks like it was any other day, like nothing had changed between you two. his voice was light, unbothered, but it only made the tension in your chest heavier. you gripped the strap of your bag so tightly your fingers ached, heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the soft hum of conversation around you. your mind raced in circles, desperately searching for the right words—something to apologize for the years you took from him, for keeping his daughter from him, for all the lies. but no matter how hard you tried to form the apology, the truth hovered over you: what you did was unforgivable.

when baekhyun finally returned, he slid your drink in front of you, his movements slower than usual, almost tentative. you brought the cup to your lips, the warmth of it familiar, the taste exactly as you remembered—comforting, like a quiet reminder of everything you'd tried to bury.

"i remembered how you liked your coffee," baekhyun murmured, his voice softer than before, tinged with uncertainty. "i hope it's still the same."

you met his gaze, your throat tight as you forced a small smile. "it is. thank you."

baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the tousled strands. his eyes drifted away from yours, unable to meet your gaze, as if the weight of this moment was pressing down on him just as much as it was on you.

"so..." you began, your voice hesitant, but before you could find the right words, he interrupted.

“i’m engaged,” he blurted, the words sharp and sudden, like a slap to the face.

it hit you in the chest, the shock stealing the air from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you crumbling, and you couldn’t find your footing. as if this day wasn’t heavy enough, this new weight crushed you under its force.

"oh," you whispered, the word tasting hollow, barely escaping as your heart constricted. "congratulations. i'm sure she's... amazing."

"mhm," he hummed softly, a brief flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it faded. his eyes dropped to his coffee cup, watching the steam rise like he was searching for something in the shifting mist, anything to avoid the tension between you.

you couldn’t find the strength to say more. words seemed pointless now. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, your gaze fixed on the table as jealousy and heartbreak clawed at you from the inside. you knew you had no right to feel this way, no right to be hurt after everything that had happened. but still, the ache lingered, a quiet, relentless sting.

his fingers raked through his hair again, the tension in his jaw unmistakable as he exhaled sharply, frustration thick in the air. when he finally met your gaze, his eyes were raw with hurt, every unspoken word between you now painfully exposed. "so why didn't you tell me? about minji?"

you'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your mind, each word crafted carefully, but now, sitting across from him, it all felt empty, hollow. "you had just gotten into your residency program," you said softly, voice shaky. "it was your dream. i…i didn’t want to hold you back."

his eyes darkened, the hurt twisting into something sharper. "so what? you thought you could decide for me? you think i wouldn't have wanted to be there?" his voice cracked with emotion, rising. "do you have any idea how much i waited for you? how many nights i sat by the phone, praying you'd call?"

the weight of it hit you, hard. you'd known, of course—he'd been dropped from the program. he'd fought tooth and nail to get into a second-choice school, one that brought him here, to this city. and now, here he was, sitting across from you, the remnants of his sacrifice hanging in the silence between you.

his gaze faltered, dropping to the steaming cup in front of him. he stared at the swirling mist as if it held the answers, as if the rising steam could ease the hurt, the questions, the ache that had settled between you.

you didn’t know what to say anymore. words felt pointless, insignificant in the face of everything that had unfolded. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, unable to meet his eyes, while jealousy and regret clawed at your chest. it wasn’t your place to feel this way—not after everything you had done. but the sting of it, sharp and biting, wouldn’t fade.

the tears you had spent so long holding back finally began to break free, each drop feeling like it had been waiting a lifetime to fall. you didn’t want to keep apologizing, but the words slipped out, hollow and fragile. "it wasn’t an easy choice, baekhyun. i thought i was doing the right thing."

“‘the right thing’?” his voice softened, but the hurt in his words still rang out like a chord being pulled too tight. "you didn’t even give me a chance. i missed everything—her first steps, her first words. you took all of that from me."

your throat tightened, each breath harder to catch. you swallowed, and your voice cracked under the weight of the truth. “i know,” you whispered, the regret clawing at you. “i regret it every day.”

baekhyun’s hands were curled into fists, white knuckles pressing into the table like they could anchor him in place. he didn’t look at you—his gaze was lost in his coffee, the silence hanging heavily between you both. and then, after what felt like an eternity of stillness, he spoke again, his voice quieter, as if the question had burned him from the inside. “does she know?”

you shook your head slowly, feeling your chest tighten. “i haven’t told her. i didn’t know how... but she’s been asking. she sees the other kids with their dads and wonders why she doesn’t have one.”

baekhyun covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the raw pain. "i can't believe this. i can't believe you."

"i know, baekhyun," you whispered, tears spilling down your face without control now. "you have every right to hate me... and if you want, you don’t have to see either one of us again—"

his voice sliced through your words, thick with disbelief, tremoring as if he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying. "are you... are you serious right now? you’d leave? again? how is that supposed to fix anything? did you not think i wanted her? wanted you? we’ve talked about this, bun... you knew what it meant for me to be a dad."

the sobs broke free from you then, impossible to hold back, your chest aching with each desperate breath. you wiped at your face, but your hands trembled too violently, the tears just wouldn’t stop. all you could choke out were broken apologies, fragments of regret slipping between your breaths. "i knew you’d drop everything for her. for us. but... you becoming a doctor, that was your dream... and i was just so scared."

he leaned forward, his expression softening, but there was still a fire in his eyes. “i want to be in her life,” he said, his voice firm, steady, eyes red from the silent tears streaming down his face. “she’s my daughter. and i want to know her. i want her to know me. her father.”

you looked at him, your heart heavy with guilt. “i wasn’t planning to keep you away,” you said, your voice cracking. “i just... i didn’t know how to tell you after all this time.”

baekhyun’s gaze softened, his voice quieter but resolute. “we’ll figure it out. but i’m not letting you push me away again.”

you paused, biting your lip, anxiety clawing at your chest. “but what about your fiancée? you already had a life of your own before today…i can’t help but feel like i’ve fucked everything up for you, baekhyun.”

he shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping him before he quickly suppressed it. his voice faltered, the nickname slipping out before he even realized it. “don’t worry about that, bun—” he stopped mid-sentence, the word tasting strange and wrong on his tongue after your mention of his fiancée. it was as if, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about her. he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “i mean… just let me handle that. but for now... please, promise me you won’t disappear again. promise me you won’t take her away from me. i’m begging you... let me in. i feel like you owe me that much.”

you nodded, the promise catching in your throat. “i promise.”

you scrolled slowly through your camera roll, fingers grazing over the images of your daughter, sharing them with baekhyun—each one, a snapshot of her life, a memory you’d held in secret for so long. each photo was like a tender piece of your soul, each moment a quiet confession of everything that had unfolded without him. there was a rawness in it, a vulnerability that felt like you were unwrapping your heart for him, and it was overwhelming. for both of you.

he sat there, eyes scanning the photos, and a storm of emotions swirled within him. there was anger, sharp and bitter, that you’d kept minji hidden from him. all those years, a secret that was both yours and hers to carry. betrayal lingered in his chest, not from you, but from the truth that he hadn’t been there, that he’d missed out on so much. and yet, despite it not being his fault, guilt settled heavy in his heart—guilt that you had to raise her alone. guilt for every moment you’d carried the weight of motherhood without him by your side.

but baekhyun, the man who had always been able to push past the shadows of the past, found something in the photos—something bright, something he could hold onto. minji’s smile, sweet and dimpled, was a beacon of hope. it was everything he needed to see, to ignite a fire within him. it wasn’t just a reminder of what was lost—it was the fuel that would drive him to make up for every single moment he’d missed.

the weight of the conversation shifted slowly, and before you even realized it, the words spilled out. you couldn’t stop yourself—you had to ask about her. his fiancée.

he told you her name was soo. they met during his residency, he said, when she helped pull him from the darkest corner of his life—the place where your absence had left him, broken and barely breathing. she was the one who stitched him back together, the one who healed the wound you’d left, a wound that, it seemed, only she could mend.

and yet, even as he spoke, despite the rawness of his confession, he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. he didn’t want to hurt you. but the words hung there, thick with unspoken emotions.

then, he showed you the photos. of her. oh god, she was beautiful. radiant, in a way that seemed to glow from within. they looked like they were made for each other, perfectly matched, intertwined in a way you could never hope to be. he spoke of her with awe—how brilliant and kind she was.

and as he spoke, something tugged at the edges of your thoughts. his eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth when he spoke of someone he loved, were different now. softer, distant. the sparkle that once lived there had dimmed, as if the affection he had for her wasn’t as alive as it once had been. you told yourself not to read too much into it, to not dwell on the subtle shift. it had been years. people changed, didn’t they? he wasn’t the same baekhyun you remembered. especially not after everything you had put him through.

it stirred a jealousy in you, sharp and bitter, but deeper than that, it left a dull ache settling in your chest. you longed to be the one he spoke of with such adoration, the one he admired in every way. you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if he ever spoke about you like that—if he ever felt for you the way he now seemed to feel for her. it burned like poison in your veins, a vile and familiar ache that made you sick to your stomach. you hated it. hated how it made you feel so small, so unimportant. the weight of it made you want to vanish, to slip out of your own skin, anything to escape the suffocating reality of it all. you should be happy for him. happy that he had found someone who could make him feel whole again. but all you could feel was the hollow ache of your own failure to ever be enough.

you tried to smile, tried to hold yourself together, but each compliment, each story, each glowing word about her, hit you like a dagger to the chest. you couldn’t listen anymore. you didn’t want to.

it was too much. before you even realized it, you were standing, your throat tight as you forced the words out. “i... i need to go. um, i have to make dinner…and pick up minji from daycare. i’ll text you. we can figure out a time for you both to meet properly.”

before he could respond, you were out the door, the bells above the café door jingling as you fled.

but you didn’t make it far. a few seconds later, you heard the hurried footsteps behind you, his voice calling out. “bun—fuck, wait! slow down!”

you could feel the tears streaming down your face again, hot and uncontrollable. you wiped them hastily, hoping he didn’t see. but of course, he did. he always did.

“look,” baekhyun began, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t place. “i never thought i’d hear from you again. and now you just—pop back into my life, on a random friday, with a daughter i had no idea about. i’m sorry if you’re upset that there’s someone else in my life. but please... don’t punish me for finding myself again after you completely destroyed me.”

his words hit harder than anything you could’ve prepared for. your knees felt weak, your heart shattering with every syllable. because it was true. every part of it. you had done this. you’d pushed him away, and now you had no right to feel this way, no right to demand anything.

"baek," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, trembling under the weight of everything you couldn’t say. "you’re right. i don’t have the right to feel this way. i just... when i saw you again, it was like everything came crashing back. all those old feelings—things i thought i’d buried—flooded back in an instant. but i swear, i won’t keep minji from you. i won’t. and... i’m honestly so glad you’ve found happiness. and soo—she... she seems amazing. i can see why you’re with her. and... i’m genuinely looking forward to co-parenting with you both. really."

you swallowed hard, the words like sandpaper against your throat. the lie at the end tasted bitter, clinging to the back of your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. you needed him to believe it. needed him to let you go so you could retreat to the quiet of your own space, where you could curl up and weep in the solitude of your own shame.

his expression softened, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “hmm…okay.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out your phone. “you left this on the table. and, uh… you promise you’ll stay in contact?”

you nodded quickly, unlocking your phone and typing your name into the message. “you have mine now, too.”

a small relief flashed in his eyes when he saw your name on the screen. he nodded, his voice steady. “thank you. let me know when you’re both ready. we’ll make this work.”

you nodded, your throat tight as you wiped away the last of the tears. you offered him a half-smile, barely managing to hold it together, before turning away. your feet felt heavy as you walked to your car, the silence between you louder than anything.

when you finally arrived home, everything came crashing down at once, a tidal wave that hit you full-force. the weight of everything you’d been holding inside pressed into your chest, suffocating, like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe. you collapsed, body trembling, as sobs wrenched their way through you—soft, guttural cries that seemed to echo in the emptiness of your apartment. tears streamed down your face, thick and relentless, each one heavier than the last, as if they were washing away more than just your sorrow. how had you managed to mess everything up this badly?

the feeling of being lost in your own failure was dizzying, a dark spiral that threatened to swallow you whole.

chanyeol, your next-door neighbor, was more than just a friendly face. he was a single parent too, his daughter nari being the same age as minji. from the moment you’d moved in, the girls had been inseparable—like they were two halves of the same whole, constantly together, sharing everything from toys to whispered secrets. and over time, you and chanyeol had become something more than neighbors. you were lifelines to one another, navigating the chaos of single parenthood side by side. daycare pickups, late-night texts for advice, emergency contact calls—they were moments that built trust, moments that held you both up when the world felt too heavy.

but then there were the other moments. the ones that neither of you had planned, yet they happened all the same.

on nights when the girls had sleepovers, tucked under either your roof or his, the house would fall into an eerie stillness, a quiet so profound it felt almost alien. no toys scattered across the floor, no giggles or whispers. just an empty house, and the faint hum of the world outside. in those moments, the bottle of wine always made its way to the table—deep crimson liquid swirling in your glass, catching the soft light in a way that felt too intimate, too inviting. the scent of it lingered in the air, rich and heady, like a secret waiting to be shared. one glass became two, then three, until the words flowed freely, unguarded.

laughter bubbled between you both, light and carefree, mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. and somewhere, in the subtle space between casual conversation and shared history, something shifted—unspoken, but impossible to ignore. it wasn’t deliberate, not in the beginning, but it was undeniable. a quiet tension hung between you both, the kind that hummed just below the surface, like a chord waiting to be struck.

in the warm, dim light, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. his lips brushed yours—not quite a kiss, but not exactly innocent either. the taste of wine lingered on his mouth, mingling with something darker, something deeper, something unspoken. your hands—almost of their own accord—found their way to each other, fingers tracing the outline of familiar paths, not quite daring to go any further. the touch was careful, deliberate, like a dance on the edge of something you both knew was dangerous, but too tempting to resist.

each kiss lingered just long enough to leave you wanting more, but never deepened enough to cross the line you both feared. the weight of unspoken rules hung between you, pulling back every time either of you tried to cross the line. clothes were the only barrier between you, a fragile wall that you both clung to, even as the urge to tear it down grew stronger.

but even in the silence, the weight of your unresolved feelings for baekhyun settled heavily in the room, a ghost that neither of you could escape. and chanyeol—he carried his own baggage. the loss of his wife, a wound that had never fully healed, leaving him to raise nari on his own, balancing grief and fatherhood in a way that only he understood. he wasn’t looking for more. not from you. not yet.

the timing was all wrong, the space between you wasn’t yours to claim. but in those rare moments, it felt as if maybe, just maybe, it could have been.

it was never spoken aloud, but you both knew the truth. chanyeol knew you still loved baekhyun, and that truth hung between you like a quiet weight. neither of you disturbed it. the unspoken agreement between you was that your daughters came first, no matter what. whatever might have blossomed between you, if it ever did, had to come naturally, unburdened by guilt or pretense.

but in those moments, when the air between you grew thick with something more, a quiet voice inside you would pull you back. it reminded you of the messy knots still holding your heart in place, the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. you couldn’t move forward—not yet. not while your heart was still tangled with baekhyun.

chanyeol, always the gentleman, never pushed. he was patient, always aware of your needs, always respectful of the boundaries you set. when you needed to talk, he listened; when you needed space, he gave it. but in the quiet of his own heart, he couldn’t help but feel more for you than he allowed himself to admit. how could he not? you were beautiful, strong, and a devoted mother. you embraced nari as your own, and in doing so, you made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t express. even knowing your heart was still tethered to someone else, he couldn’t stop himself from wishing—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, one day you’d find your way to him.

he carried that silent ache with the kind of grace only he could muster, never letting it slip, even as it quietly wore at him, just a little more each day.

so when you texted him—asking if he could pick up minji, keeping the explanation vague, not wanting him to worry—he was there. barely ten minutes later, a soft knock at your door echoed through the silence.

when you opened it, his wide eyes met the mess that was you—mascara streaks trailing down your cheeks, a crumpled tissue clenched in your trembling hand. you tried to muster a smile, but it felt paper-thin, your voice weak and brittle. “yeolie? what’s up?”

the words barely left your lips before he froze in place, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “a-are you okay? what’s going on? did someone—did something happen? is minji okay? are you sick? do you need me to take you to the hospital?” his voice cracked, the flood of questions spilling out in rapid succession, his panic tangible.

you stepped aside, pulling the door open wider, silently inviting him in. he didn’t hesitate, stepping through, his gaze glued to yours like he was searching for answers in your tear-stained face.

he trailed behind you to the couch, his presence steady and grounding as you collapsed onto the cushions, tears streaming freely. through shaky breaths, you unraveled the tangled mess of your day—the awkward reunion, the jumbled emotions, the weight of everything that seemed to be crumbling all at once. you didn’t dare admit the jealousy clawing at your chest, the hollow ache that filled you when baekhyun spoke about his fiancée with such love. that part you kept tucked away, too raw, too humiliating to expose.

chanyeol sat beside you, his towering frame a comforting shadow as he listened. really listened. his hand moved in soothing circles along your back, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

your words poured out, no longer confined to just the events of the day but expanding into everything—the years that had passed, the guilt that had burrowed deep and refused to let go. every regret, every misstep, every weight you’d carried alone spilled out in a torrent of tears and confessions. and chanyeol just sat there, unwavering, holding space for you in the way only a true friend could.

“hey,” he began, his voice soft yet steady, as if anchoring you in the storm of your own thoughts. that signature dimpled smile appeared, warm and reassuring, carrying a kindness that made your chest tighten. “no one’s perfect,” he said, his gaze locking with yours, as though he could see the weight of your regret. “it’s okay to have moments you wish you could take back. you don’t need to have it all figured out right now—just take it one step at a time, yeah? what matters is where you go from here, and i know you’ll choose the right path.”

his hand brushed against yours, grounding you further. “no matter what, nari and i will always be here. for you and minji. you’re not in this alone.”

you swallowed hard, his words cutting through the mess of emotions tangled in your chest. the sincerity in his voice, the unwavering warmth in his eyes—it was almost too much. you nodded slowly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. “i don’t even know if i deserve this kind of support... but it means everything. truly.”

your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, the weight of his reassurance settling over you like a safety net. the corner of your lips lifted into the faintest smile, a flicker of gratitude breaking through your doubt. “and…thank you, yeollie. for always being here for us.”

he pulled you into a hug, the kind only chanyeol could give—one that made you feel like you were wrapped in the coziest, softest blanket on the coldest day. his size alone made it impossible not to feel safe, like he could shield you from the entire world.

"stay put," he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your hair. "i’ll go pick up the girls. how about we pick up a pizza on the way home? maybe a bottle of wine to go with it?"

you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, the weight on your chest lifting just enough to let it out. "yeah... i’d like that. thanks, yeol."

he grinned as he stood, his steps sure and familiar as he moved to the fridge. the sound of the door opening and bottles clinking against each other filled the room. when he returned, he handed you one of the water bottles, twisting the cap off for you with ease.

"drink up," he said, flicking a finger gently under your chin to tilt your head up, a playful glint in his eyes. "don’t need you passing out on me from dehydration."

his teasing tone, coupled with the affection in his gesture, made your heart feel a little lighter. you took the bottle from him, your fingers brushing his briefly, and for the first time all day, you felt a spark of comfort.

later that night, minji lay tucked beneath her soft quilt, her favorite bunny held close to her chest. the warm glow of the nightlight painted her face in soft hues, the shadows dancing gently across her room like a lullaby. you leaned over her small form, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "i love you," you whispered, your voice a soothing murmur. "sleep tight, bun."

as your hand hovered over the light switch, her voice stopped you in your tracks, delicate yet filled with curiosity. "hey, mommy," she called, her tone innocent and thoughtful. "why does that doctor from earlier call you that, too?"

the question struck a chord deep within you, freezing you for a moment as your heart stumbled over itself. turning back toward her, you forced a smile, smoothing the sudden tension coiling in your chest. walking slowly to her bedside, you perched at the edge, meeting her wide, trusting eyes. "well," you started softly, your voice steady despite the fluttering unease within. "like dr. byun said, he's a really good friend of mine. that’s where i got your nickname, too."

her face lit up, her small smile so pure it made your heart ache. she nodded slowly, processing your words in that way only children can, her gaze thoughtful yet brimming with trust. "he was nice," she said, her tone sweet and certain. "i really liked him."

"yeah?" you asked, crouching down so your eyes were level with hers, the warmth of her sincerity wrapping around you like a blanket. her simple joy tugged at something tender within you. "would you like to see him again?"

her smile widened, blooming like the sun breaking through clouds. excitement sparkled in her eyes, her whole face lighting up in a way that mirrored her love for ice cream on hot afternoons. she nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

"uh-huh!" she chirped, her joy infectious, spreading a flicker of warmth through your own heart.

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and full of love. "okay, bunny," you said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, your voice tender. "sleep tight, 'kay?" you pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before turning off the light. the door clicked shut softly behind you.

standing in the hallway, your back against the cool wall, you let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of the day settling heavily in your chest. the silence was broken by a ping from your phone, pulling you out of your thoughts. you stared at the screen, the light illuminating your face as a new message appeared.

baekhyun:

thank you for today. let’s talk soon about how we move forward—together.

your chest tightened, the words settling over you like a heavy blanket. this was the beginning of something you hadn’t seen coming, something that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and exhilaration.

you responded quickly, almost without thinking:

you free tomorrow to go over details?

the path ahead was a little scary and clouded with uncertainty, but one thing was for sure: baekhyun was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

baekhyun and minji bonded quicker than you ever imagined. their first playdate was a sunny afternoon at the park, where baekhyun seemed completely absorbed in her. every giggle, every burst of energy as she dashed between slides and swings, every scrunched-nose smile lit up his face. it was as if he was trying to memorize every little detail about her, committing her essence to memory. minji, ever the social butterfly, welcomed him without hesitation—just as she did her classmates, her teachers, and even chanyeol.

chanyeol.

his name slipped into your thoughts uninvited, a shadow that tugged at your focus. why were you thinking about him now? you blinked hard, shaking the thought away. the last thing you needed was to let another layer of complication invade your already chaotic emotions.

then came that afternoon. baekhyun had come to drop minji off at your place, the usual familiarity of the moment interrupted by the unexpected. when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there—it was chanyeol.

“baekhyun, right?” chanyeol greeted him warmly, his easy smile bright enough to momentarily disarm. his dimple pressed deep into his cheek, as if it was carved there just for moments like this. snapping his fingers in playful recognition, he added, “i’ve heard so much about you.” he gestured casually over his shoulder, as if to invite baekhyun in. “i’m chanyeol. and that’s nari over there.”

baekhyun froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an invisible force. for a split second, his expression faltered, eyes flickering to the cheerful little girl in the background, her laughter filling the air. then, his gaze shifted back to chanyeol, studying him with a quiet intensity. there was something unspoken in the air between them, subtle yet impossible to ignore—a tension that lingered like a low hum.

his eyes darted past chanyeol, chest tightening as they landed on you. you were seated on the floor, cross-legged, a radiant smile stretching across your face as you and nari played with minji’s toys. the sound of your laughter, bright and unguarded, hit him square in the chest, stirring something raw and vulnerable deep inside him. you looked so at ease, as if the joy spilling from you was effortless, untouched by the weight of the past.

“hi, chanyeol!” minji’s voice rang out, cutting through the fog of his thoughts. her tiny arms stretched toward the tall man, her excitement spilling over in a cheerful squeal.

chanyeol didn’t hesitate, scooping her up with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. “i missed you!” minji giggled, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck.

“i missed you too, bun,” chanyeol replied with a wide grin, holding her close.

baekhyun’s stomach twisted, the word hitting him like a slap. bun. his nickname for her. no—their nickname. a sharp possessiveness surged through him, hot and consuming. did chanyeol call you that too? the thought crept in like a poison, making his jaw tighten. it was irrational, and yet it burned, carving out a hollow ache in his chest.

you stood then, walking toward them, your smile warm and glowing like the softest light. chanyeol still had minji perched on his hip, cradling her as if she were his own. he leaned in, planting an exaggerated, playful kiss on her cheek, earning a burst of delighted giggles from her.

the sound, the sight of it all—your ease, minji’s trust, chanyeol’s familiarity—brought baekhyun to the edge. his chest tightened, his breathing shallow, and for a brief, unsteady moment, he felt like he might collapse under the weight of it. the life he wanted was right in front of him, his life, and yet, it felt just out of reach.

“i missed you, bunny,” you murmured, your fingers tenderly brushing through her soft, dark hair. minji tilted her head up to you, her eyes glittering like tiny stars. then she turned to him, her small hand waving eagerly. “bye, baekhyun!” she chirped, her voice bright and pure, her little toothy grin so heartbreakingly innocent it nearly brought him to his knees.

baekhyun’s chest tightened, the pressure unbearable. how could something so sweet hurt so much?

you stepped closer, and for a fleeting moment, baekhyun forgot how to breathe. your smile was warm, easy, and devastatingly familiar—a smile that used to be his. it softened the tension hanging in the air, but to him, it cut deeper than any blade.

“thanks for picking her up from daycare,” you said, your voice gentle, almost apologetic. the sincerity in your tone slipped past every defense he’d tried to build since that day you walked back into his life. “did you wanna come inside for a bit? we usually do taco tuesdays with chanyeol and nari. you’re more than welcome to join us.”

your words were casual, but the invitation felt anything but. “i think it’d be great, actually,” you added, your voice bright with optimism. “since chanyeol’s been in minji’s life for a little over a year now.”

the floor seemed to tilt beneath him. his body stiffened, and a violent twist gripped his heart. chanyeol. a year. the words echoed mercilessly in his mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. he wanted to tell you no, to scream it, to tell you he’d rather rip his chest open and claw his heart out than walk into that house and see the life you were building without him. a life that looked so perfect. a life where he was nothing but a footnote.

instead, he forced a smile—thin, hollow, the kind of smile that only deepened the cracks in his façade. it was nothing more than a mask, a feeble attempt to conceal the storm raging beneath his skin. “i’m actually in a hurry,” he said, the words stiff and unnatural as they stumbled off his tongue. “gotta get to the clinic.”

a lie, plain and simple. it came too easily, slipping past his lips like second nature. the instant it escaped, he felt the sick churn of regret twisting in his stomach, his voice betraying him with a clipped edge he couldn’t quite hide.

your head tilted slightly, confusion flickering across your face like a shadow. “didn’t you guys already close for the day?” you asked, your brows knitting together in that subtle way that always made his chest ache. “it’s past six.”

his pulse stuttered, a silent curse tumbling through his mind as he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t shatter the fragile distance he was desperately clinging to. but nothing came. nothing convincing enough. nothing that didn’t feel like quicksand.

his feet shifted instinctively, retreating before his resolve could crumble further. “charts and prescriptions and... you know, stuff,” he mumbled, taking an awkward step back. “i’ll see you later.”

before you could say another word, he turned, walking briskly toward his car. his steps were measured, his pride refusing to let him break into a full-on sprint, even as his heart hammered like a war drum. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his lie and your confusion pressing down on him like a vice.

he didn’t dare look back. if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going.

from behind him, minji’s giggles rang out like music, the sound breaking through the thickness in the air. you were pressing playful kisses to her cheeks, your exaggerated smooches sending her into a fit of laughter.

it was almost too much. the scene—the two of you together, so natural, so perfect—made his knees weak. he gripped the handle of his car door and paused, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to look back. to stay.

but he didn’t. he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, leaving behind the ache that followed him everywhere you and minji weren’t.

as baekhyun drove away, his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned a stark white. the image of you standing there with chanyeol and the two girls—your girls—seared into his mind, an indelible mark he couldn’t shake. you looked like a perfect family, like something pulled straight out of a dream. but for baekhyun, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

every mile he put between himself and your door pressed harder on the ache in his chest. his thoughts roared louder than the hum of the engine, drowning out everything but one relentless truth: that should’ve been me.

he couldn’t keep doing this—living in the fragile shell of a life that barely held him together. pretending he was fine without you, without minji. pretending that every day apart wasn’t hollow, wasn’t agony. each moment away from the two of you felt like a wound he couldn’t heal, the kind that gnawed at him constantly, leaving him restless and raw.

he dragged a trembling hand through his hair as the silence around him became unbearable. pacing the length of his living room later that night, his mind was still trapped back at your doorstep. he could hear your laugh echoing in his ears, the way it always lit up every corner of his world. the memory of your voice, soft and full of meaning, saying his name. minji’s tiny hands gripping his, her trust as effortless as her love. every memory sharpened the longing, the undeniable knowledge that you were his. you always had been. and yet, here he was—stuck in a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.

it wasn’t fair. not to him. not to you. and certainly not to her. the woman waiting for him at home, wearing the ring he had slipped onto her finger when he was too weak to face the truth. she deserved more. she deserved better. she deserved a man who wasn’t haunted by another woman’s smile, another child’s laughter.

his fists clenched at his sides as the weight of his choices bore down on him. guilt dug into him like a blade, twisting with every second. and yet, beneath it all, one truth burned brighter than anything else: he needed you. he needed you and minji, your warmth, your chaos, the life you had created without him.

he could feel it unraveling, the lie he was clinging to. every passing day stretched it thinner, threatening to snap. and when it did, he wasn’t sure what would be left of him—only that it wouldn’t be enough without you.

after a few more park playdates, you invited baekhyun over for dinner. when he arrived, he held two bouquets—one vibrant and blooming for you, and a smaller, delicate arrangement for minji.

minji’s face lit up as she clutched her flowers, her excitement spilling over as she helped baekhyun carefully arrange them in vases. you watched from the kitchen, your hands busy with dinner but your heart quietly swelling at the sight of them together.

dinner came and went in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. afterward, baekhyun insisted on helping clean up, minji trailing behind him like his little shadow. yet through it all, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you—soft, almost yearning. and every time you caught him, he’d quickly look away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. that the bouquet meant nothing. but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat every time your eyes met. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you told yourself it was absurd. he’s engaged, you reminded yourself firmly. he’s in love with someone else. it’s not you anymore. it hasn’t been for years.

later, baekhyun offered to get minji ready for bed, his enthusiasm lighting up the room. he approached each part of her bedtime routine with such care—a playful splash during her bath, patient encouragement as she brushed her teeth, and a warm smile as he read her a bedtime story.

you stood in the hallway, listening to her giggles and his gentle voice, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

you walked back to the kitchen, the soft hum of the house wrapping around you as you reached for the wine bottle. the deep red liquid swirled as you poured it into two glasses, the rich aroma curling in the air. baekhyun had worked magic tonight, easing a rowdy toddler into sleep as if it were the simplest thing in the world. the image of him tucking minji in still lingered in your mind—a quiet smile on his face, his touch gentle but sure.

you thought about all the time you and minji had been spending with baekhyun lately felt like something out of a dream. it was everything you’d ever wished for but never thought you’d have. he slipped so seamlessly into her world, as if he’d always been there. their bond was undeniable—tickle fights that left her squealing with laughter, quiet moments where she leaned into him with absolute trust. watching them together only deepened the ache in your chest, the one that whispered how foolish you’d been to keep her from him for so long.

you told him as much one late afternoon, after a long stroll through the park. minji had fallen asleep in his arms, her little body spent from an afternoon of running through the playground while he chased her, pretending to be some silly monster. her tiny cheek squished against his shoulder, her breath soft and steady as she drooled onto his jacket. the two of you had laughed quietly, careful not to wake her.

“guess she’s making up for all the times it was you she drooled on instead,” he teased with a smirk, his voice warm and low.

it was in that fragile, golden moment that the words you’d been holding back tumbled out. “baekhyun, i... i’ve been feeling so awful. i’m not saying this for pity, i just—every time i see you with her, the guilt claws at me. i can’t believe i kept her from you for so long…i’m so sorry.”

your voice cracked, and then there were tears—hot, stinging, relentless.

baekhyun stopped in his tracks, his steps crunching against the gravel path as he gently grabbed your arm. his touch was firm but steady, grounding. he turned you to face him, his gaze steady, unwavering.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling you out of your spiral. “what matters is now. and the future. i trust you, and i know you won’t keep her from me again. i’ve forgiven you... but maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”

his words settled over you like a balm, soothing and unyielding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of your guilt began to feel a little lighter.

you’re pulled from your thoughts by the soft click of her bedroom door, the quiet shuffle of baekhyun’s steps filling the silence as he makes his way toward you. you know the sound of his walk so well, even after all these years. it’s comforting, familiar—the same measured rhythm, the same ease. in so many ways, he hasn’t changed. his laugh, his warm personality, the way his eyes crinkle into crescent moons when he smiles.

“she’s out,” he announces from the hallway, his voice soft but tinged with satisfaction as he spots you at the dining table.

you hand him the glass of wine you’d poured moments before, holding it out like a peace offering. “this is for all your hard work,” you tease, a light grin tugging at your lips.

he chuckles, the sound low and warm as he takes the glass from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for a fleeting second. the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, unexpected but unmistakable, and you quickly avert your gaze, staring down at the table like it holds all the answers.

he settles into the chair beside you, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. you sip your wine, trying to steady yourself, before speaking. “so... have you and soo talked about setting up a time to meet her?”

his face shifts at the mention of her name. the change is subtle but telling—a flicker of discomfort, the kind you can’t unsee once you notice it.

“yeah,” he says after a pause, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass. he takes a sip before continuing, his tone quieter now. “i actually wanted to talk to you about her.”

your heart sinks, unease settling in your chest like a stone. “oh?” you ask, cautious. “is everything okay?”

the worst thoughts swirl in your mind, a storm of possibilities. maybe she doesn’t want baekhyun spending time with minji. maybe she’s uncomfortable with you being part of the equation.

he exhales sharply, his thumb brushing against the rim of the glass. “yeah... i mean, i guess.” there’s a pause, a weight to his words that makes you hold your breath. “the engagement’s been called off.” his voice is steady, almost too steady, as if rehearsed.

your jaw drops before you can stop it. the shock is written all over your face, and baekhyun winces at your reaction, his gaze darting away. you quickly compose yourself, snapping your mouth shut as heat rises to your cheeks. “what happened?” you blurt, the words spilling out before you can think twice. “you seemed... so happy.”

your voice falters, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped. the weight of your question lingers between you, heavy and unspoken, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

“i was. or... at least, i thought i was,” he says, his voice low and almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid to admit it even to himself. his hand moves to his hair, ruffling it in that familiar way he always did when the weight of his thoughts pressed too hard on him. a reflex, a habit you never forgot.

“and then you walked back into my life.” his voice is quiet, but there’s a rawness to it, like he’s pulling the words straight from the deepest part of him. your breath hitches, the air between you growing unbearably still as his gaze locks onto yours. there’s something in his eyes—something aching, desperate, like he’s trying to hold himself together while unraveling all at once.

“with her,” he continues, his voice breaking just enough to make your chest tighten, “this little girl who’s... everything. everything i didn’t know i was missing. she’s you and me, all tangled up in the most perfect way.” he swallows hard, his jaw clenching as though he’s fighting to steady himself. “and suddenly, nothing else makes sense anymore. not without you. not without her.”

the moment those words left his lips, the air seemed to shift. everything stilled—the hum of the world faded into silence, leaving only the thunderous echo of your heartbeat in your ears. had he really said that? the words hung between you, raw and unguarded, threatening to unravel everything you thought you understood.

his eyes searched yours, hesitant but resolute, as if willing you to see the truth in his gaze. when he spoke again, his voice softened, carrying a weight that made your breath hitch. “and the more time i spent with you both... the more i realized you’re what i want. you and minji. you’re what i really want in my life.”

his confession hit you with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs. you felt the ground tilt beneath you, the walls you’d carefully built around your heart quaking under the pressure of his words.

“baekhyun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your chest tightening as you forced yourself to ask, “are you… are you serious?”

but you already knew the answer. you could see it, clear as day, in the way his gaze didn’t waver.

“we can take our time… start slow,” baekhyun exhales, his voice carrying the weight of his confession as if it had been lodged in his chest for years. the vulnerability in his tone is raw, unguarded, and it almost makes you forget to breathe. “i mean… if that’s what you want, too.”

his words trail off, and for a moment, his usual confidence falters. a quiet doubt creeps into his thoughts—what if you’ve moved on? what if you don’t want this? the possibility churns in his mind, making him feel smaller, suddenly unsure.

“sorry,” he blurts out, shaking his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “i shouldn’t have said that—”

“no,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle, grounding him. your hand finds his, your fingers curling around his in a touch that feels achingly familiar, as though no time has passed. the warmth of his skin against yours sends a spark racing through your veins, a reassurance you didn’t realize you both needed.

he looks up, his eyes wide with hesitation, and you hold his gaze. “i’d… actually like that,” you admit, your voice softer now, a smile tugging at your lips. “start slow and see where we go.”

his shoulders visibly relax, and the faintest glimmer of hope flickers in his eyes. he squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like the two of you are stepping into something whole and unbroken.

two weeks later, you stood in front of your closet, the door wide open and a growing pile of discarded clothes spilling onto the floor.

you were getting ready for a date.

with baekhyun.

your first date as parents.

the thought made your stomach flip with nerves and excitement. it felt surreal, almost like stepping into a story you didn’t dare dream for yourself. but as much as the idea of this new beginning thrilled you, the reality of your wardrobe—or lack thereof—was starting to feel like a nightmare.

minji was spending the evening with chanyeol and nari, her overnight bag already packed and slung over chanyeol’s shoulder when he came to pick her up. you couldn’t miss the way his expression shifted when you told him the reason for the favor, his smile faltering for the briefest second.

“it’s just dinner,” you’d explained softly. “we’re taking things slow, seeing where it goes.”

chanyeol had nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line. he couldn’t quite mask the pain in his eyes, though he tried.

“of course,” he’d said eventually, his voice steady despite the storm you could feel brewing beneath. “you know i’m always here for you…and minji.”

because that was just who chanyeol was—a steady, selfless anchor, even when it hurt.

now, as you tore through hangers and drawers, you glanced at your phone, a spike of panic shooting through you. less than two hours. how had the time slipped away so fast?

you groaned, flopping onto your bed as you stared at the heap of options that just weren’t right. nothing screamed ‘first date with the father of your child.’ nothing said ‘i’m nervous but excited and maybe a little terrified but i also want to look stunning.’

baekhyun.

you imagined the moment baekhyun would arrive, the image of him clear in your mind as if he were already standing at your door. he’d look effortlessly polished, the way only he could manage—like he’d stepped out of a magazine without even trying. his shirt would probably hug his lean frame just right, the soft fabric teasing at the lines of his shoulders and chest. his hair, always perfectly imperfect, would fall into place with a casualness that made you suspect he’d only run his fingers through it once before heading out.

and then there were his eyes—those warm, honeyed depths that had a way of making the world feel quieter, smaller. they carried a quiet determination now, a depth that hadn’t always been there, like the years apart had reshaped him, sharpened his focus. you could almost see the subtle tilt of his lips when he caught sight of you, a smile that wasn’t overly practiced but natural, like it belonged there because you did.

he never needed much time to get ready, and yet he always looked like he did. that was the thing about baekhyun—everything about him was easy, seamless, like he existed in his own effortless rhythm. it wasn’t about the clothes he chose or the way he styled his hair; it was about the energy he carried, the quiet confidence that drew people in.

and tonight, he’d be coming to pick you up—not just as the baekhyun you’d known before, but as someone determined to start fresh, someone who wanted to show you that maybe, just maybe, this could really work out.

you exhaled deeply, steadying yourself as you slid off the bed. pull it together, you thought, brushing your curled hair out of your face. tonight wasn’t just another evening—it felt like the start of something new, something tentative and hopeful, and you wanted to look the part. not just for baekhyun, but for yourself. you wanted to feel like the best version of you—the woman you were before, and the woman you were becoming.

your eyes drifted toward the top of your closet, where an old, forgotten box rested among stacks of seasonal items and spare blankets. a spark of hope flickered. you vaguely remembered stuffing your pre-pregnancy clothes up there, unable to let them go but convinced they might never fit again. now, that box felt like a treasure chest waiting to be rediscovered.

grabbing a step ladder, you climbed carefully, brushing the thick layer of dust from the box’s lid before tugging it down. a cloud of nostalgia seemed to escape as you peeled it open. there they were—rows of fabrics, textures, and memories you hadn’t touched in years. silky blouses, form-fitting dresses, sleek skirts... all the outfits you used to wear when going out felt like a second skin.

you sifted through them, piece by piece, fingers grazing over familiar fabrics as your heart swelled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. you pulled out a sleek dress, holding it up against yourself in the mirror. to your delight—and a little disbelief—it still fit, hugging your post-pregnancy curves in ways that made you feel both proud and beautiful.

you were finishing the last touches on your hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, slicing through the air like a sudden jolt. a flutter of butterflies stirred in your stomach, their wings beating furiously as nerves surged through you all at once. instinctively, you reached for your perfume, spritzing it lightly over your neck, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a soft, comforting embrace.

you took a long, steadying breath, eyes tracing your reflection in the mirror, checking every detail—the delicate curve of your lashes, the soft glow of your skin, the way your lips curved just right. you stepped back, allowing yourself a moment to really see the woman in front of you. had it really been so long since you dressed up like this? for anyone? the question lingered in the air.

and then it hit you, clear as day. it had been since baekhyun. a quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, bemused by the realization. there was something about tonight that felt different, something about this moment, this new chapter, that made everything feel... significant.

with a final glance at your reflection, you straightened up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you walked toward the door, each step a little more deliberate, a little more full of purpose. this wasn’t just a date. this was something else entirely.

when the door swung open and baekhyun saw you, his breath hitched, the air suddenly too thick to pull into his lungs. his gaze swept over you, deliberate and slow, as if his mind needed time to register every curve, every detail, every shimmer of the fabric that clung to you. his heart thundered in his chest, a wild rhythm he couldn’t control, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.

you were devastating. the dress—that dress—hugged you perfectly, its soft sheen catching the dim hallway light, every subtle movement making it seem alive, as though it had been designed for this exact moment. it was the same one you’d worn before, in a memory he kept locked away for years. back then, you’d twirled in front of him, laughing, your joy so infectious it had carved itself into his soul. seeing it again now, seeing you now, was almost too much.

but this wasn’t just a walk down memory lane. this wasn’t then. everything was different now—he was different, you were different. yet, somehow, that pull between you felt as raw and undeniable as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on you.

except now, you weren’t just the girl he’d loved with everything in him, the girl he’d lost, the girl he thought he’d never have again. you were minji’s mother. his daughter’s mother. and seeing you like this—so stunning it almost hurt—sent a new kind of longing through him. it wasn’t just want, though god, he wanted you. it was need, aching and all-consuming, a yearning that went far beyond physical desire. he needed to prove himself, to prove that he could be more for you, for minji. that this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away.

his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you, to touch, to hold, to pull you close enough to feel the warmth of your body against his. the temptation was staggering, nearly unbearable. his mind flickered with flashes of all the ways he wanted you—how it would feel to bury his face in your neck, to whisper promises against your skin, to hear you say his name like you used to.

but he held himself back, swallowing hard, locking it all down. not now. he couldn’t rush this. he couldn’t risk ruining it.

when his eyes met yours, his lips curved into the softest of smiles, one that didn’t quite mask the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. “you…” he paused, his voice catching before he found it again. “you look incredible.” the words came out low, steady, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them.

for a brief second, his eyes dropped back to the dress, his mind betraying him with an image of it lying forgotten on the floor, of you in his arms, of everything he was fighting to keep at bay. the thought made his chest tighten, and he let out a soft chuckle, as if to diffuse the tension he felt coiled so tightly within him.

but he didn’t move. not yet. instead, he let the moment stretch, imagining the day when he wouldn’t have to hold back, when he wouldn’t have to hesitate. when he could love you the way he wanted to—completely, without fear, without doubt, without restraint.

after dinner, the two of you strolled back to your place, the night humming with the warmth of shared laughter and lingering glances. the soft glow of streetlights cast a golden sheen over everything, making the world feel dreamlike, almost suspended in time. the wine coursing through your veins made the air lighter, the edges of reality softer, as though nothing truly mattered except the man walking beside you.

when you reached the door, your fingers fumbled with the keys, the metal slipping awkwardly in your grasp. you giggled, a sound so sweet it made baekhyun’s chest tighten. he stood behind you, his presence warm and steady, his hands gently finding their way to your waist. his touch was light, but it burned in the most delicious way.

“need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, his breath grazing your ear as he leaned closer.

you turned your head just slightly, your smile playful. “please,” you murmured, trying—and failing—to mask the way his closeness made your pulse quicken.

together, you managed to coax the door open, his hand guiding yours with a deliberate slowness that made you shiver. once inside, he closed the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the space.

“nightcap?” you asked, your tone casual, though the mischief in your eyes betrayed you. your cheeks were warm, not just from the wine but from the way his gaze lingered, heavy and intent.

baekhyun didn’t answer right away. his eyes stayed locked on you, tracing the curve of your cheek, the way your lips curled into that familiar, teasing grin. his gaze dipped lower, lingering on the dress that clung to you like a second skin. that dress. the one he couldn’t stop thinking about all night, the one he wanted to peel off you with his teeth.

he swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep himself in check. the air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken tension. he took a slow, deliberate step closer, the movement barely noticeable, but the way his eyes darkened said everything his lips couldn’t.

“yeah,” he finally murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges. “a nightcap sounds good.”

but it wasn’t the drink he wanted. no, the only thing he wanted was standing right in front of him, flushed and radiant, looking at him with eyes that could undo him in a heartbeat. every instinct screamed at him to close the space, to kiss you breathless, to pull you into him and never let go. but he didn’t. not yet. he was holding onto a thread of control, as thin and fragile as the air between you.

for now, he could wait. but god, you were making it impossible.

he could barely hold himself together, his self-control stretched thinner with each passing second. honestly, he deserved an award—no, a damn medal—for the composure he managed to keep throughout dinner. every moment was its own quiet war, every glance from you a calculated blow, every soft laugh a fatal shot to his already fragile defenses. your presence was a sweet, maddening intoxication, pulling him under in waves he couldn’t escape.

the way you looked at him—those eyes full of something gentle, something tender, something that felt like home—was almost his undoing. his fingers curled tightly against his thighs, his knuckles blanching as he fought the urge to reach for you. your smile, radiant and unguarded, had him aching in ways he thought he’d forgotten, stirring something raw and desperate in the pit of his stomach. and your voice—god, your voice—danced through the air, warm and melodic, like the first song he’d ever loved.

and then there were those moments when you looked at him, really looked at him. it was in the softness of your gaze, the way it lingered a second too long, the way it stripped him bare without a single word. it was as if you still saw him—truly saw him—the way you used to, back when you were his. that look, full of unspoken truths, clung to him like an echo, whispering things he didn’t dare hope for. you still love me. you still love me. the thought struck like lightning, leaving him dazed and breathless, his pulse thundering in his ears.

his chest tightened with the weight of it all—the yearning, the disbelief, the sheer impossibility of the moment. it was as though everything that had gone wrong, all the time that had stretched between you, suddenly dissolved, rendered meaningless in the face of this. it was just the two of you now, the world fading into a blurry background, holding its breath as if waiting for him to do what every fiber of his being screamed for: close the distance.

the need was relentless, searing through him like fire. his fingers twitched with the urge to touch you, to cradle your face in his hands and trace the contours of your cheek, to see if your skin still felt as soft as he remembered. his lips burned with the craving to kiss you, to taste the laughter that had tormented him all night, to claim the love he had been starving for since the day you walked away.

it had been almost four agonizing years since you left him behind, taking the light of his world with you. he thought he’d buried the pain, that he’d learned to live with the emptiness you left. but now, here you were, so close he could hear the rhythm of your breaths, feel the warmth radiating from your skin. and he realized with a clarity that stole the air from his lungs: none of that pain mattered anymore. not the silence, not the heartbreak, not the years. all that mattered was you—here, now, in front of him.

his breath hitched at the thought, and he found himself imagining what it would feel like when he finally kissed you again. his lips hovering just inches from yours, the space between you crackling with tension. he could already feel the pull, that same magnetic connection that had always been there, waiting for the moment he could touch you. and when their lips finally met, he knew—he knew—it would be just like before. that same sweetness, that same softness, the curve of your lips fitting perfectly against his, like you were always meant to belong to him.

no one had ever kissed him the way you did. no one else had ever left him breathless, drowning in the intensity of it, as if your kiss had the power to remake him. and god, he wanted it again. needed it.

he wanted you, wanted you so badly, the need pooling in his chest, a hot, tight ache he couldn’t ignore. he could already taste you, feel the warmth of your lips beneath his. he remembered how your kiss had once made him feel weightless, like he was falling into something beautiful, intoxicating. it was all he’d thought about the entire night.

and the way you looked now, that dress clinging to you like it had all those years ago, just made him ache even more. he couldn’t stop the images running through his mind—ripping it off of you, feeling your body pressed against his, tasting the sweetness of your kiss once again, just like he had done so many times before. the desire to feel you underneath him, to bury himself in the softness of you, was almost unbearable. he wanted it. he wanted you.

but instead, he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with barely contained longing, “yeah, a nightcap sounds good.”

his fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to touch you, but he held himself back, feeling the heat rise between you both, a tension so thick it was almost unbearable.

"here, let me pour the drinks for us," he murmured, his voice low and steady as he took your jacket and purse, hanging them with a quiet care on the coat rack.

you raised an eyebrow, teasing, "oh?" the corners of your lips twitched, fighting back a smile as you bit your bottom lip. your lashes fluttered lightly, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks as you met his gaze. "i’m just getting spoiled tonight, aren’t i?" you teased, the memory of how he'd practically wrestled the check from your hands earlier still fresh in your mind. it made you laugh softly, a sound that seemed to melt into the air.

but before you could say anything more, he was there, his hand coming up instinctively to cup your cheek. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing lightly against the softness of your skin, tracing the curve of your cheek, your chin, and finally resting just below your lower lip. his touch was so gentle, so deliberate, and yet it stirred something deeper inside you—a quiet yearning that you were both trying to contain.

you met his eyes, searching his face, knowing the unspoken truth before he even voiced it. you could see it—the way his gaze lingered, the way his breath hitched just slightly as he studied you. he wanted to kiss you. you could feel the tension rising, thick and palpable between you, but still, he held back, the weight of restraint pressing on him.

not wanting to push him, you offered him a sweet, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of understanding without words. the sight of it seemed to stop him in his tracks, and his heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat.

baekhyun’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “spoiled?” he echoed, leaning in just slightly, enough for his voice to drop a fraction, rich and smooth. “c’mon, bun, i’m sure you remember what me spoiling you really looks like.”

his words hit like a soft nudge to a locked door, memories rushing in before you could stop them. you remembered the way he used to spoil you relentlessly back in college, how his love language seemed to be written in lavish gifts and thoughtful gestures. designer handbags you could never justify buying for yourself, delicate jewelry that always seemed to match the sparkle in his eyes when he fastened the clasps himself.

he’d surprise you with new outfits for events you didn’t even know you’d be attending until he planned them—your wardrobe practically transformed by his generosity. every time the newest iphone dropped, he’d make sure it was in your hands within days, complete with a customized case he knew you’d love. he’d slip his card to waiters or store clerks before you could even think to pay.

and then there were the practical things, like covering your car payments or arranging maintenance before you even realized you needed it, his way of taking care of you without ever making you feel small for it. he never wanted you to stress, and you’d laugh at the absurdity of it all while secretly melting at the way he seemed to know what you needed before you did.

baekhyun had money. plenty of it. his family’s wealth wasn’t something he flaunted, but it was there, shaping the way he provided for you. your family wasn’t poor, but you didn’t have the same financial ease. you worked hard for the things you had, but baekhyun never made you feel less than, never made you uncomfortable about it. his quiet humility and the way he never flaunted his wealth made it all feel normal—money was never the issue. it was always about the love you shared.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck as you met his gaze again. his eyes were on you now, softer but still teasing, as if he could tell exactly where your thoughts had gone. “besides” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “i’m just making up for lost time. can you blame me?”

one glass turned into two, then three, each sip loosening the tension in the air, but also building something new between you, something heady and electric. laughter spilled from your lips, the sound light and careless, but underneath it, a growing warmth that neither of you could ignore. the night seemed to blur around the edges, the wine clouding your thoughts, making everything softer, more daring.

the bottles emptied one by one, their presence a witness to the hours that had melted away as you lingered in each other’s company. the glasses tipped over, forgotten, their contents pooling on the floor like spilled memories. it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the way he looked at you—intensely, as if every part of him was drawn to you in a way that left him no choice but to pull you closer.

and then, he kissed you.

it was slow at first, almost tentative, like he was relearning the shape of your lips, the rhythm of your breath. but it didn’t stay that way for long. in an instant, the kiss deepened, the years of separation melting into a blur of heat and urgency. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer—closer, until you were climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him without hesitation.

his mouth was scorching, addictive, just like you remembered. it was the taste of him, rich like wine but unmistakably him—a flavor you thought you’d buried, but now you realized you could never forget. his kisses were messy, hungry, each one leaving you breathless as soft moans and breathless whimpers slipped between you. his hands roamed with purpose, sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. his grip was firm, possessive, so achingly familiar that it made your head spin.

you felt the growing bulge beneath you, hard and urgent, straining against his pants. the pressure sent a sharp jolt of need straight to your core, igniting a fire you couldn’t ignore. warmth pooled between your legs, soaking you as your hips rocked instinctively against him. a deep, guttural groan escaped him, vibrating against your lips as you kissed him harder, hungrier.

“i missed you,” you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips as they traveled to the curve of his neck. you nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear, the spot you knew drove him wild. sure enough, a soft, desperate moan spilled from him, and you smiled against his skin, savoring the sound of him unraveling beneath you.

"i love you, bun," he whispered, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning, a tremor of raw emotion in every word. his gaze, unwavering and intense, locked onto yours, as if he could reach inside you with just a look. his lips brushed yours, so lightly it almost felt like a delicate promise. "i... i don’t think i ever stopped."

the words crashed into you, like a wave breaking against the shore, unexpected yet inevitable. your heart skipped, breath caught in your chest as the depth of his confession wrapped around you, pulling you under. "i love you, too, baekhyun," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady—anchored in the truth that had always been there, buried beneath the years of silence. "i never stopped."

and then, his lips were on yours again, and it was as if the world snapped back into place, the pieces aligning with the force of your shared confession. finally, it felt like home. like you were where you were always meant to be. your body responded instinctively, moving closer, desperate to feel the heat that had always simmered between you two. you ground against him, slow, deliberate, an aching need rising in you both. the friction between you sent jolts of electricity through your veins, a fire sparking to life as you felt him tense beneath you, his hands tightening on your hips.

for a brief moment, you thought he'd pull you in fully, lose himself in the moment as much as you were. but instead, his body went rigid, stilling beneath you as if every muscle had locked in place.

"wait—" his voice cracked, the sound thick with a dangerous mix of yearning and restraint. his hands stilled your movements, holding you in place. you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you, shallow breaths betraying the storm inside him. "i don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. i know we agreed to take things slow. i can wait."

his words cut through the haze of your desire, stopping you dead in your tracks. the sincerity in his eyes hit you like a tidal wave. he was holding back—for you.

for you.

the ache in your chest was sharp, but in the best possible way.

without saying a word, you reached down, sliding his hand beneath your dress, guiding him to where you were already burning. his breath caught when his fingers brushed against your bare skin. his eyes widened, shock crossing his features as he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

"feel how wet you’ve made me?" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear, your voice low, sultry, teasing. the way his chest moves as his breathing becomes more deeper, heavier as if it’s taking everything in him not to put his fingers to work on that sloppy cunt of yours. you could feel his restraint fraying, and you couldn’t help but smile.

"still think i wanna take things slow?" you teased, your thumb tracing the curve of his bottom lip, urging him to act.

you could feel his body tremble under your touch, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted, his fingers just barely grazing where you needed him most. the hunger in his eyes was almost unbearable, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips over his jaw, waiting for him to break.

his composure shattered. his eyes fluttered shut as you brought his slick-coated fingers to your mouth, your tongue swirling around them slowly, deliberately. the taste of yourself on him was heady, and you sucked his fingers clean, the act sending a shiver down his spine.

“fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “ya sure about this, bun?” each syllable a desperate plea as his restraint teetered dangerously close to breaking.

you nodded, eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of innocence and promise. your lashes fluttered like the softest caress as you looked up at him, lips swollen and bruised from his fevered kisses, a delicate pout lingering on them. the sight of made his dick twitch. “always been sure when it comes to you, baek.”

the words hit him like a wave, and with a shuddering sigh, he couldn’t hold back anymore. his lips crashed against yours, possessive and hungry, claiming you as if he’d never get another chance. one arm wrapped around your head, fingers threading through your hair with a desperate need, while the other hand slid to your ass, squeezing it roughly. his grip tightened, a subtle warning, but you could feel the way his muscles strained, the raw tension in his touch. every press of his fingers into your skin felt like a brand, like he was marking you, anchoring himself to you. his touch was a blaze, a wildfire that scorched you in the best way, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear an inch of distance.

and then the world tilted.

with a surge of power and urgency, he lifted you without hesitation—strong, commanding, as though he was claiming you in the most primal of ways. a breathless gasp escaped your lips, the sound of surprise barely escaping before his hands cradled you, holding you as if you were made of something more fragile than glass. he held you with reverence, but there was an edge to it, a possessiveness that promised he would never let you go.

his breath is heavy against your neck, warm and uneven, betraying the restraint he’s barely holding onto. your body is pressed tightly to his chest, his heart pounding against yours, every beat echoing the unspoken promises that linger in the air. each step he takes toward your bedroom is deliberate, charged, as though the distance is unbearable, as if he can’t get you there fast enough.

"shit," he muttered, his voice rough and low as he lowered you onto the edge of your bed. the realization hit him like a tidal wave, cold and relentless, stealing his focus. his gaze flickered to yours, a storm of panic swirling in his eyes. “i didn’t bring any condoms. do you… do you have any?”

his question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, cutting deeper than the surface. the knot in his stomach tightened, the thought of someone else touching you during the time apart clawing at his insides. he hated the idea more than he cared to admit.

your laughter cut through the tension, soft but laced with something playful, a gentle ring that seemed to fill the space between you. "no, baek," you replied, your voice a breathless melody. "i haven’t had sex—well, any action, really—since you." the confession slipped out before you could stop it, and though a blush bloomed on your cheeks, you held his gaze. there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes, but it only made his heart race faster.

his breath hitched audibly, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. his heartbeat thundered in his ears, his chest rising and falling with the weight of your words. “you’re serious?” he whispered, disbelief laced with something else—pride. his lips curved upward into a slow, cocky grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. the thought of you untouched by anyone else since him fed something primal, something possessive.

you nodded, your teeth sinking into your lip like you were weighing the impact of your words. embarrassment rushed to your neck, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his stare. it burned through you, molten and unwavering, making your heart thrum harder with every passing second.

“fuck,” he rasped, the word almost guttural, like he couldn’t contain the surge of raw emotion. it was your turn to smile, a cocky glint lighting up your eyes. but when he spoke again, the weight of his confession hit you harder than you expected.

"i haven’t gone raw in anyone since you."

the words hung heavy in the air, suffocating with meaning. the way he said it, so casually, like it was a fact that only made sense in the world he had built around you, made your pulse spike. it was everything—the promise, the truth. your knees weakened at the depth of his gaze, molten like a fire you couldn’t escape.

"d’ya trust me, bun?" he whispered, voice low, the words slipping from his lips with a possessive kind of hunger.

you swallowed thickly, your breath coming out uneven, heart pounding in your throat. your pulse raced, and despite the weight of his question, you somehow found your voice, breathless and full of raw honesty.

“with my life.”

his lips curled into that signature, boyish grin that had always undone you, a glint of mischief dancing in his darkened eyes.

without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hands brushing the smooth, delicate skin of your arms before they drifted to the zipper at your back. in one seamless motion, his fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling your dress down with a fluid grace that seemed almost too effortless, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. the fabric slid off you like a memory, slipping to the floor as he guided you back onto the pillows, leaving you bare under the weight of his gaze.

his breath faltered as he drank you in, his eyes tracing every inch of your skin, the intensity of his hunger for you pressing against him like an ache that made his chest tighten. "god," he breathed out, the word barely escaping his lips as if he was speaking to himself more than to you, his hands gently exploring your exposed body like he was memorizing it, as though each touch could never be repeated.

but then it came—the surge of insecurity, creeping in from the edges of your mind like a dark cloud, unwelcome and cold. without thinking, you crossed your arms over your body, your hands instinctively covering the soft curves you’d learned to live with, but had never quite come to accept.

baekhyun saw it instantly. the shift in you, the way you tried to pull away, to hide. his expression softened, his gaze darkening with understanding as he stepped closer. his voice, low and steady, was a balm to your wounded confidence. “don’t you ever feel the need to hide from me,” he murmured, each word laced with an unspoken promise. his hands were gentle, yet firm, as he took hold of your wrists, slowly guiding them away from your body and placing them at your sides. the weight of his touch was reassuring, a silent command for you to trust him, to trust that he saw you—all of you—and that was all he wanted.

his touch was almost ethereal, like a whisper against your skin. his fingertips grazed the curve of your breasts, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. “bigger,” he murmured, the word thick with admiration, as if discovering something new about you—something he’d always known he wanted. his hands traveled lower, tracing the lines of your waist, feeling the soft expansion of your hips beneath his palms.

when his fingers brushed over the subtle stretch marks on your ass, a low, guttural groan escaped him, the sound vibrating through the air between you. his body tensed, his desire unmistakable, radiating off of him in waves. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze never leaving the soft, inviting shape of your body, as if memorizing every inch of you.

his hand drifted to your stomach, his finger moving with slow deliberation, drawing a path down the center of your abdomen, a slow, torturous line that set your nerves alight. “you’re gonna feel me,” he rasped, his voice husky, the words carrying a weight of promise. his thumb pressed gently into the sensitive skin just above your belly button, sending a shiver spiraling through your body. “right here,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours—dark, smoldering, intense with intent.

the teasing, the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something intoxicating—it was too much. your hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, the need to feel him overwhelming. without a second thought, your lips crashed against his, urgent and desperate. the kiss was hungry, frantic, your mouths pressing against each other as you fumbled with the fabric of his clothes, your body burning for more.

his laugh rumbled against your lips, the sound low and rich as he pulled back just enough to smirk down at you. “eager, aren’t we?”

you didn’t miss a beat, your fingers working at his waistband as you bit back, “just wanna see if you still know how to fuck me properly.”

his laugh deepened, full and throaty, as he shoved his boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock. “glad to see that smart mouth of yours hasn’t changed, bun,” he said, his grin wicked. he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “i’ma have fun puttin’ it to good use later.”

your breath hitched, your heart pounding in anticipation as he pressed closer, the weight of his words and his presence igniting every nerve in your body.

he positions himself at your entrance, and your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding so hard you can feel it echo in your ears. the heat radiating from him, the subtle brush of his skin against yours, sends a shiver rippling through your body. his tip, swollen and leaking, nudges against you, dragging slowly through your wetness, teasing with a precision that makes your toes curl.

he lingers at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, spreading his precum and your slick together in a maddening rhythm. the sensation of his velvety tip gliding over your folds, grazing your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your core. every deliberate movement feels like a silent taunt, a reminder of how much he’s savoring this moment—savoring you.

“baek, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling, desperate. your fingers clutch the sheets beneath you, nails digging in as if grounding yourself could somehow stave off the overwhelming need building inside you. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as the relentless teasing pushes you closer to the edge of begging.

his own restraint is fraying, evident in the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly as they grip your hips. he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes smoldering with a mix of lust and longing. “oh— fffuuuccck, i missed you,” he groans, his voice strained, thick with emotion and need.

his words barely register before he begins to push in, his throbbing tip stretching you inch by agonizing inch. the sensation of him filling you—so warm, so familiar yet impossibly intense—forces a soft gasp from your lips. he exhales sharply, his jaw clenched, savoring every second, every sensation, as though this moment is the only thing that matters in the world.

baekhyun’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the faint wince that creases your features, gone as quickly as it came, but not quick enough to escape him. his brows knit together, his concern palpable, etched into the soft lines of his expression. he stays perfectly still, his body taut with restraint, as if afraid to move and hurt you. the stretch stings, yes, but there’s something deeper beneath it—a delicious burn that ignites every nerve, leaving you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.

“baby, you good?” his voice is low, soft, a husky murmur that wraps around you like the warmest comfort, his tone threading worry with tenderness, his concern a steady anchor in the haze between you. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of restraint and hunger, like he’s balancing on the precipice of losing control but refusing to let it happen until you’re ready.

you nod, though your breath catches, a sharp inhale that betrays the lingering ache as you will yourself to adjust. you shift your hips slightly, testing, feeling the stretch give way to something deeper, something raw that tugs at your core and sets your pulse hammering.

he groans, low and guttural, a sound dragged from the depths of his chest as he feels you take him in just a little more. his breath stutters, breaking like a thread pulled too tight, his hands flexing where they rest on your hips. the sharp ache dissolves into heat, into a magnetic pull you can’t resist. his reaction tells you he’s just as wrecked as you are, caught in the unbearable tension of holding back when everything about this moment demands he let go.

baekhyun’s exhale shudders, his head tipping back as his grip on your hips tightens just enough to remind you of his control. “fuck,” he rasps, the word rough and shaky, his voice carrying a mix of awe and restraint. “i missed the way you feel around me.”

his words send a ripple of heat through you, raw and unfiltered, a confession of just how much you’re undoing him. his fingers dig into your skin, grounding him, though his gaze never strays from yours. the tension coils tighter with every passing second, his dark eyes blazing with something possessive, something unrelenting, as though he’s holding back the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

your need burns hotter, desperation clawing its way to the forefront. “baekhyun—,” you beg, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. “please... just hurry up and fuck me.”

the plea comes out shaky, your voice trembling with want, and for a moment, you feel utterly exposed. but the effect on him is instant. his lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, his expression one of pure, devastating control as if that's all he needed to hear. “as you wish, sweetheart,” he grunts, his voice thick with promise and unrestrained desire.

his hands tighten their hold on your hips, strong and commanding, as he shifts his position. with a flex of his arms, he lifts you with effortless strength, your body rising until you can feel the head of his cock stretching you once more. the tension builds, unbearable and heady, before he slams you down onto him in one fluid motion.

the force of it steals the breath from your lungs, the intensity of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limit. the sound that escapes you is ragged, a cry of pleasure that seems to echo in the air between you. baekhyun’s growl rumbles low in his chest, primal and rough, as his hips meet yours, bottoming out with a precision that leaves you trembling.

his movements are deliberate yet feral, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, his hands never leaving your body as if anchoring you to him. his need is palpable, pouring out in every motion, every flex of his muscles as he claims you with an intensity that sets every nerve ending alight.

“ya feel so fuckin’ perfect,” he groans against your skin, the words muffled but soaked in reverence as his lips press to your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach. every motion, every sound, every touch pulls you deeper into him, blurring the lines between where you end and he begins.

he missed you. god, every inch of him missed you. it’s like his cock remembers every curve, every slick ridge of your walls, molding to him perfectly. and of course, he lets you know, his voice breaking into a string of desperate confessions. “f-fuck… m’sorry. ya squeezin’ me so tight. i think ‘m gonna cum soon hah– and ‘m gonna fuck it right back into this perfect—ngh—cunt.”

“hah—baek,” you whine, your voice trembling as you fully surrender to him. your body rocks helplessly in rhythm with his relentless thrusts, his cock plunging so deep it leaves you gasping. “s-so deep—hngh… can feel you here—” your hand snakes down, guiding his to press against your stomach, right where the swollen head of his cock is relentlessly hitting that devastatingly sweet spot.

his breath hitches, a low, disbelieving laugh huffing out as his fingers press into your skin. “fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark with lust, fixed on you, utterly wrecked beneath him. his hand is on top of the other as they press down over the slight bulge where he’s buried so deeply inside you. “feel that, baby? that’s me… stretching this pretty pussy out so good.”

his words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and it’s too much—all of it, the weight of him, the filthy praise falling from his lips, the way his hands grip you like you’re something precious, even as he loses himself in you.

“baek—oh god!” your cry echoes through the room as your body shatters beneath him, the first orgasm of the night ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. his lips crash against yours, swallowing your desperate moans as his hand moves lower, fingers finding your clit in quick, precise circles. the overstimulation sends sparks shooting through your veins, the pleasure stretching, elongating, as he coaxes every last wave from you.

“that’s it—hah. cum for me angel,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice softening even as his hips keep their punishing rhythm, chasing his own release. “y'so perfect, baby. nngghh—so fuckin' perfect for me…and finally mine again.”

“been y-yours,” you hiss, dragging out the word as his crazed tip whacks itself against your sensitive spot. again, again, and again—he’s hitting against that same spot as if it were a target and he never misses. his frantic hits against your core causes your toes to curl and your back to arch even further as you’re slowly being brought closer to your orgasmic, teetering edge. “ffuuck! ‘m cumming again, baek, cumming.”

your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, sweeping you into a realm that feels like heaven itself. your body gives out beneath the intensity, collapsing back against the mattress as baekhyun hovers over you, his breath hot and heavy. his tongue trails a slick, wet path down the curve of your neck, his touch a sinful mix of reverence and hunger as you unravel completely beneath him.

baekhyun’s body is pressed flush against yours, his every movement slow yet calculated, like he’s savoring each second, each inch, as if the world might steal you away from him again. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, the sheer intensity in his dark, lidded eyes making it impossible to look away. his breath is ragged, the sound mingling with the soft gasps spilling from your lips, the two of you lost in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.

“please,” he rasps, his voice cracking, raw with emotion. his forehead presses to yours, the touch grounding and desperate as he sinks deeper, his hips stuttering like the closeness of you is too much, too overwhelming to contain. “please, don’t fuckin’ leave me again.”

his words linger, heavy and aching, filling the space between you with the weight of every unspoken hurt, every moment lost. his fingers tighten on your hips, digging into your skin as though the feel of you beneath him is the only thing tethering him to reality. his thrusts grow erratic, uneven, each movement betraying the fragility of his control.

“nggghh—i think...” his voice falters, a low groan spilling from his lips as he buries his face into the curve of your neck. his mouth grazes your skin, reverent, desperate, the ghost of his breath hot and trembling against you. “i think i’ll die if you do. god, i can’t—i can’t spend another fuckin’ day without you.”

your heart clenches painfully, his vulnerability cutting straight through you like a blade. his body trembles against yours, every inch of him straining to keep you close, to pour everything he feels into the spaces between you. your fingers find their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands as you tug gently, coaxing him to meet your gaze.

his eyes lift, dark and glassy, brimming with emotion so unguarded it threatens to undo you. devotion, fear, yearning—they’re all there, laid bare and unfiltered.

“baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice a delicate tremor, barely audible over the shared gasps of breath between you. your hands cradle his face, fingertips brushing over the damp strands of his hair as if trying to ground him, to ground yourself, in this fragile, fleeting moment. “’m not going anywhere. i’m here... i’m yours. we’re yours.”

his breath catches, shuddering under the weight of your words, and a sound—fragile, broken—escapes him. he surges forward, pulling you closer, deeper, until it feels like he’s trying to fuse your souls together, to erase every inch of space between you. his thrusts are slower now, deliberate, every roll of his hips steeped in something more than desire—something raw and sacred, like a plea, a promise, an apology all at once.

your body arches into his, a guttural whine ripping from your throat as his cock pulses within your walls, stretching, filling, consuming. your muscles clench around him, your body dragging him deeper into your heat, and his control shatters like glass.

“f-fuckin’ shit,” he growls through gritted teeth, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into you, heat blooming deep inside, marking you in every sense of the word. the intensity steals the breath from your lungs, and as the waves of pleasure crash over you, pulling you under, your release spirals into his, the two of you breaking apart and piecing yourselves back together in the same breath.

his lips find yours, the kiss frantic and messy, a collision of tongues and teeth as if he’s trying to reclaim the time you spent apart. every ragged moan, every whispered curse and gasp fills the room, the air thick with the symphony of your shared need. the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you—entangled, desperate, and utterly consumed by the moment.

it’s not just lust, not just longing—it’s everything. years of heartache, love, and an aching, unrelenting need poured into every kiss, every thrust, every whispered vow that promises you’ll never leave each other again.

your walls clench around him again, coaxing more from him, and he groans deeply, his arms looping around your waist to anchor you to him. his grip is firm, almost desperate, holding your trembling hips in place as his thick, creamy release paints your insides. it’s obscene, the way it trickles down your shaking thighs, a messy, lewd reminder of everything he’s giving you. but baekhyun doesn’t stop—not yet. his hips slow, but only slightly, rolling into you with a lazy, unrelenting rhythm as if determined to fuck every drop back into you.

it’s filthy, yes, but there’s something almost tender in the way his lips brush against yours again, his deep moans muffled as his movements grow languid, sweet in their intensity. he nips at your bottom lip, his voice a teasing rasp when he finally pulls back just enough to speak, his forehead pressed to yours.

"how ’bout we give minji a sibling, huh?" the words spill from him, low and teasing, yet dripping with intent, his hips punctuating the question with a deliberate thrust that has you crying out.

your brain short-circuits, the world spinning as his cock drags against your sensitive walls. your head nods before you can even process his words, a frantic, needy motion as your body betrays just how utterly drunk you are on him. thinking straight? impossible. all you can manage is a breathless, choked moan of agreement, your fingers digging into his back as he continues to work you into oblivion."yeah?" your voice trembles, still riding the waves of your last high. "well, we’ve got all night to try."

the morning sun filtered softly through the trees as you stood at your front door, your body still humming with the afterglow of the night before. baekhyun’s car had just turned the corner, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of his goodbye kiss still lingering on your lips. you smiled to yourself, the memory of his warm hands on your waist and the way he’d looked at you all night filling you with a quiet joy.

but then your thoughts shifted, and a familiar ache settled in your chest. you glanced to your left, to chanyeol’s house, where your daughter, minji, was probably still fast asleep. you wondered when you should go pick her up, already missing the sound of her giggles and the way she always ran to you with open arms.

your gaze lingered on his house, warm affection for your daughter mingling with a twinge of guilt. chanyeol had been nothing but kind—stepping in to watch minji overnight so you and baekhyun could have this time together. but as your eyes traced the windows, movement caught your attention.

the curtain in the living room fluttered, a shadow shifting behind it before it was quickly pulled shut. the abruptness of the action made your heart sink. someone had been watching. you didn’t need to guess who.

your stomach twisted as the realization hit you. chanyeol.

the look on his face from last night flashed through your mind—the way his mouth had tightened, his expression faltering when you’d casually mentioned your plans with baekhyun. you’d tried to soften the blow, telling him you were "taking things slow," but now those words felt hollow, like a broken promise.

slow? the sight of you outside your front door in baekhyun’s shirt, kissing him goodbye, told a different story.

the weight of the moment pressed on you, guilt pooling heavy in your chest. chanyeol didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve to see this, to piece together the night you’d spent with baekhyun and feel whatever it was you knew he must be feeling.

for a second, you thought about knocking on his door, about saying something—anything—that might ease the tension now crackling in the air between your homes. but instead, you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to step inside your own door. maybe it was better this way, to let the moment settle, to deal with the aftermath later when your thoughts were clearer.

but as you shut the door behind you, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

chanyeol:

hey, can we talk?

a sigh escapes your lips, the guilt in your chest an ache that refuses to fade. you were already bracing for this conversation, knowing it had to happen, knowing you owed him this clarity. more than that, you still wanted him in your life—him and nari both. they had become such an integral part of your and minji's world, their presence a steady anchor in the chaos. you had to make sure he understood that.

your thumbs hover over the screen, the words forming before you can second-guess them.

yeah, i think we should, yeol.

chanyeol sits on the couch beside you, though the space between you feels like a canyon. it’s a noticeable difference from how he used to sit, closer, as if the world wasn’t big enough to separate the two of you.

he brought minji home a few minutes ago, fast asleep against his shoulder, her cheek pressed to him in the way only a child could manage, soft and unguarded. her little mouth hung open, a whisper of snores escaping as if the world around her didn’t exist. she’d been worn out from a full morning playing with his sister’s kids and nari, her tiny form so peaceful it made your heart ache. you’d both had quietly tucked her into bed together. and now here you were, back in the living room, perched on the edge of an unspoken conversation.

his sister had stopped by his place earlier this morning, her kids in tow for a chaotic playdate with nari and minji. she’d agreed to watch nari while chanyeol brought minji back home and you and him have this talk, though he’d been vague about why he needed the time. what was he supposed to say? “i’m going next door to talk to the girl i’ve been madly crushing on for over a year about seeing her kiss her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy and now i don’t know where i stand.” no. too messy. too raw. too much.

his jaw tightens, a small movement you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. the weight of his presence feels like it’s pressing against your chest, suffocating and grounding all at once. you glance at him, then quickly look away, unsure of how to start this conversation. unsure if you even can.

the silence between you stretches, awkward and heavy. you try to fill it with small talk, your voice soft. “how was minji last night?”

he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. there’s something pained in his expression, something restrained. “she was great. she always is.”

you smile faintly, but it fades as guilt bubbles in your chest. “look, chanyeol,” you start, your voice tentative, “i’m sorry for what you saw this morning. it probably didn’t make me look like ‘mother of the year.’” you pause, exhaling slowly. “i know i said baekhyun and i were going to take things slow, but… one thing led to another, and—”

“stop,” he interrupts, his voice sharp but not unkind. his hand comes up, almost reflexively, as if to shield himself from your words. he winces, and you know it’s because he’s picturing it—baekhyun’s hands on you, his lips on yours. where chanyeol wishes his own could be.

his shoulders slump as he exhales, the tension in his body evident. his face is a mosaic of emotions—hurt, frustration, resignation. “i don’t think i want to hear the details… about what happened with you and baekhyun.”

the air grows heavier, his words filling the space between you. for a moment, neither of you speaks. then, he sighs again, his voice quieter this time, softer. “i just came to say that i get it.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you do?”

he nods, his gaze falling to his hands, which rest loosely in his lap. “yeah,” he says, the word heavy with a weight he’s carried for longer than you probably realize. “i always knew your heart was still with him. filled with him. i thought that maybe, over time, with me… and nari… we—i—would fill it instead.” his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat, forcing himself to go on. “but then he came along. and even then, i was still foolish enough to believe i had a chance.”

your heart clenches, the rawness in his voice cutting deeper than any accusation ever could.

he looks up at you, his eyes earnest despite the ache swimming in them. “but i just want you to know… don’t feel guilty. about this. about me. nari and i—we’ll still be here for you and minji. always.”

his words hit you like a wave, and you’re left staring at him, your chest tight and your throat dry. there’s no anger in his voice, no bitterness, just an overwhelming sense of loss and quiet acceptance.

and somehow, that hurts even more.

you open your mouth, but no words come out. what can you possibly say to that? to a man who has just stripped himself bare, laying his feelings and heartbreak at your feet without a hint of resentment? guilt swirls in your stomach, heavy and unrelenting, but beneath it is something softer—gratitude.

“chanyeol,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, shaky. “i… i don’t even know where to start.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you’ve had for as long as you can remember. “i never meant to hurt you. i swear, i didn’t.”

his smile is small, sad, and fleeting. “i know.”

“you mean so much to me,” you continue, your voice gaining strength. “and not just because you’ve been so good to minji and me, but because you’re… you’re you. you’ve been a constant in our lives when everything else felt so uncertain.”

his gaze flickers to yours, and the weight of his emotions is almost too much to bear.

“but,” you add, hesitating because the truth feels like a betrayal, “i can’t lie to you. when baekhyun came back, it stirred up so much that i thought i’d buried. i thought i’d moved on, but… seeing him again…” you trail off, unsure how to finish without twisting the knife further.

“i get it,” he says softly, sparing you the need to say more.

“i don’t deserve you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “you’ve been nothing but kind and patient, and i hate that i’ve put you in this position. but… thank you. for everything. for understanding, for being here, for—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off gently, his voice firm but kind. “don’t thank me like this is the end of something. nari and minji are still best friends, and i’m not going anywhere. you don’t get rid of me that easily.”

his attempt at humor coaxes a faint smile from you, though the tears welling in your eyes threaten to spill over. “you’re too good, you know that?”

he shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that’s almost a smile. “or maybe i just have bad timing.”

you both fall silent again, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. you want to hug him, to thank him properly, but you know it’s not what he needs right now. instead, you place a hand on his, squeezing it gently.

“i’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely above a whisper.

he squeezes back, his touch warm despite the distance he’s trying to keep. “me too.”

and with that, the moment shifts, leaving behind a bittersweet ache that doesn’t feel quite like an ending but more like an understanding—a quiet closure to what could have been. as chanyeol stands to leave, his hand moves instinctively, gently cupping your chin. his thumb grazes the soft curve of it, a gesture so intimately familiar it almost feels like a promise.

his eyes meet yours, but this time, there’s no playful glint, no trace of hope lingering there. instead, his gaze is calm, tinged with a bittersweet acceptance that sits heavy in the space between you. his lips pull into a small, wistful smile—warm enough to remind you of the connection you once shared but tempered by the reality that things have changed.

“we’ll be okay,” he says softly, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “nari and i… we’ll always be here for you and minji. that doesn’t change.”

his voice is steady, not heavy with regret but grounded in the knowledge that some paths aren’t meant to intertwine the way he might have once hoped. and as he steps back, the warmth of his touch fades, but not in a way that feels cold or distant.

instead, it feels like understanding.

he hesitates for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but then he nods slightly, his smile growing just enough to feel reassuring. “see you around, yeah?”

“yeah,” you manage, your voice soft but steady.

with that, he turns and walks out the door—not leaving behind a void, but rather a quiet sense of peace. the kind of peace that comes with knowing some connections will always remain, even if they’ve shifted into something new.

baekhyun had started staying over on weekends. it had been his idea initially, a way to make up for the years he missed with minji—but somewhere along the way, it became about more than that. your relationship with him had been blossoming, as if no time had been lost.

the nights you spent together felt like a rediscovery of who you both were, a bittersweet journey through what was and what could be. after minji would fall asleep, the two of you would sit on the couch, sharing stories from the years apart. his late-night shifts at the hospital during his program, your struggles navigating motherhood alone, the little triumphs and heartbreaks in between.

what surprised you most was how much had stayed the same. you still had the same taste in music, still argued playfully over which movie to watch. even the new interests you’d each picked up fit together seamlessly—baekhyun teasing you about your new baking obsession while you mocked his newfound love for photography.

it was during one of those weekends, after a long day spent at the park with minji, that things shifted. the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the night outside. minji had gone to bed hours ago, worn out from a day of running around, and now you lay tangled in the sheets with baekhyun, your skin still warm from the closeness you’d just shared.

his arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin. “i’ve been thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but serious.

you turned to face him, your cheek brushing against his bare chest. “about what?”

“about telling her,” he said, his hand stilling on your side. “minji. that i’m her dad.”

you blinked up at him, the words settling heavily in the air between you. it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind, but hearing him say it made it feel... real.

“you think she’s ready?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “she’s smart, you know? she already knows there’s something different about the way i am with her. and with you.” his lips quirked into a small smile. “plus, i want her to know. i want her to know how much i love her. how much i love... this.”

your breath hitched, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “you really think now’s the time?”

baekhyun shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. “i do. but only if you’re ready, too.”

you bit your lip, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. but as you thought about how minji had been bonding with baekhyun—her laughter during their tickle fights, the way she lit up every time he walked into the room—you realized he was right. she deserved to know.

“okay,” you whispered, your fingers reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “let’s tell her.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his voice a gentle promise. “thank you. for letting me be here. for giving me this chance.”

the following day, during lunch, you sat minji down. the late afternoon sun poured into the kitchen, casting soft golden streaks across the table where you, baekhyun, and minji sat. the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup lingered in the air, a comfort meal chosen carefully for this important day.

minji swung her little legs under the chair, humming a tune in between bites, blissfully unaware of the weight of the moment looming.

you glanced at baekhyun, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his bowl—a nervous tell he couldn’t quite hide. catching your eye, he gave you a small nod. it was time.

“minji,” you began gently, setting your spoon down and leaning forward. her big eyes flicked up to you, still chewing, her cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk.

“mommy and i want to talk to you about something important,” baekhyun added, his voice warm but tinged with a nervous edge.

minji blinked, tilting her head curiously. “what is it?”

you took a deep breath, reaching for her tiny hand across the table. “you know how you’ve been spending a lot of time with baekhyun lately? going to the park, playing games, having fun?”

she nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across her face. “yeah! he’s so fun! and he’s really good at hide-and-seek!”

baekhyun chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through his hair. “well, there’s a reason we’ve been spending so much time together, minji,” he said, his voice tender. “it’s because i’m your dad.”

the room went quiet for a moment as her little brain worked to process the words. her eyes flicked between you and baekhyun, her brow furrowing slightly. “my... dad?”

you squeezed her hand gently. “yes, sweetheart. baekhyun is your dad. he loves you very much and wants to be in your life, just like mommy is.”

minji’s lips pressed together in a thoughtful pout. then, she looked at baekhyun, her small voice filled with curiosity. “are you gonna stay forever?”

his breath hitched, and you could see the emotion pooling in his eyes. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to meet her at eye level. “yes, minji. i promise i’m not going anywhere. i want to be here for you, always.”

she studied him for a moment, then turned to you. “is that okay, mommy?”

your throat tightened at the question, the innocence of her trust nearly breaking you. you nodded quickly, brushing a hand through her soft hair. “of course, bun. it’s more than okay.”

a beat passed, and then her face lit up with a smile that could rival the sun. “so... does this mean i can call you daddy?”

baekhyun laughed, his voice shaky but filled with relief. “only if you want to, bunny.”

without hesitation, she slid off her chair and ran to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. “hi, daddy.”

baekhyun’s arms enveloped her instantly, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. his eyes met yours over her head, glistening with unshed tears and a gratitude too deep for words.

in that moment, you knew everything would be okay. your little family had found its way back together.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ omg k first of all, i’m so, so, sooooo sorry it took me forever to finish this fic 😭😭😭 i really wanted to try something new with this one. more angsty vibes, some slow-burn, and some juicy subplots to keep it interesting hehe :') instead of my usual "plot? what plot? oh wait, you mean porn" approach (which ofc the next like 4 fics are definitely giving that lmfao) ANYWAAAYYYY, i hope you enjoyed it!! <3 as always lmk ur thoughts <3 <3 (unless you hated it or thought it was mid...then pls...keep it to urself because i am a fragile lil bnuy n will cry 😭🤚🏼) k that's all bye love you guys!!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა 💖

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites #dividers are by @anitalenia <3

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tyonfs · 2 years ago

Text

stargirl interlude

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, influencer au, strangers to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, mc and her friends are a little shallow, tbh i wrote this because of jaemin’s tits, dirty talk, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), kitchen sex, oral (m. receiving), oral (f. receiving), lowkey dumbification, body worship, ft. one night stand with jeno

SUMMARY ▸ and i shouldn't cry, but I love it, starboy / i just wanna see you shine 'cause i know you are a stargirl

PLAYLIST ▸ stargirl interlude by the weeknd, lana del rey • alien superstar by beyoncé

WORD COUNT ▸ 5.9k words

TAG LIST ▸ @leeknowsredeyeliner @geniejunn @sehunniepot @jjaeyoonoh @subhyuck @jenoluuvvs @jaemboi64 @otchae @n0hyuck @hyuckinx @domhyuckie @justhereforimagines @daegalfangirl @soobin-chois @lmkworld @baekhyuns-lipchain @its-taeil-time @produmads @kaislinging-slasher01 @neomorning @learnthisfeeling @glitching-wren @carelessshootanonymous @thiccfullsun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ jaemin is finally not an asshole. everybody say congrats jaemin.

THE WALK OF SHAME.

The distance from Lee Jeno’s apartment to yours was approximately 0.6 miles. If you walked fast enough, it would take you around ten minutes to get back home. Meaning, that was ten minutes spent doing the Walk of Shame at nearly three in the morning.

Of course, the whole point of being an e-girl was to keep up an unattainable internet persona. You wanted to be a star, and what better way than to weaponize your good looks? Your entire brand was posting revealing pictures of yourself on Instagram and Twitter, maintaining a “gamer girl” image. Sort of like Belle Delphine, but you hadn’t stooped low enough to start selling your bathwater to strangers on the internet. You were a lone flower on the edge of a cliff—so high up that no one could reach for your stem.

Except Jeno, apparently, after you caved and met him in person tonight.

You and Jeno followed each other on Twitter a few months ago. Despite attending the same college, you two hadn’t ever met in person before. He was a popular YouTuber, so there had been rumors flying around about his sudden interactions with you. Your influencer friends were trying to grill you for more information, but you sincerely had no idea where Jeno’s sudden interest in you came from. After you posted a picture of you in pink lace lingerie complete with Hello Kitty clips and pigtails, Jeno had finally slid into your DMs.

jeno: i’d rather spend the night with you

(In response to the caption on your post: spend the day with me?)

As one would expect, things escalated from there. Jeno was hot, you were horny, and he conveniently lived 0.6 miles away from you.

In short, you got good dick. Jeno started with one hand wrapped around your neck and the other snaking its way between your legs. You were satisfied, especially because the streamer didn’t try to dap you up after railing you on his gaming chair, the wall, and then his bed. You two made some small talk afterward, and then you headed home. Prince Charming could not be fucked to give you a generous ride back to your apartment.

You pulled out your phone to look at your face in the camera app. As expected, you were a mess, but you touched up your lipstick and blush with the few makeup products you stuffed in your purse. Then, you called your best friend, Lee Donghyuck, who had been flooding your friend group’s group chat with messages for the past hour.

“Dude,” you started as soon as he picked up. Donghyuck was in the middle of taking his headphones off to put his AirPods in, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Jeno walked me to the door and made me walk home by myself.”

“No fucking way.” Donghyuck laughed. “That’s what you get for hooking up with a guy who plays Val.”

Ah, yes. Featured on Jeno’s YouTube: streams of Valorant, League of Legends, and Overwatch. There were the occasional indie games he was requested to play, too. The only one you semi-watched and commented on was Little Nightmares.

“The dick was incredible,” you told your best friend, “but he’s not cuffing material.”

“Not like you care about cuffing anyone.”

“Yes, I do!” you objected. “I’m boyfriend-hunting, Hyuck. Think about how much attention I’d get if I started dating a hotshot influencer.”

“You should date Mark Lee, then. Everyone’s thirsting over those e-boy TikTokers now. Or maybe Liu YangYang. Heard his body count’s high as fuck.”

You rolled your eyes. “His body count’s high because no one goes back a second time. Plus, I think YangYang’s finally in the talking stage with someone.”

“Good for him.” Donghyuck yawned. “Anyway, I’m going to bed soon since I finished editing my Maldives vlog. I’m still pissed you didn’t come with us.”

You rolled your eyes. Donghyuck, Yoo Jimin, Choi Beomgyu, and Uchinaga Aeri had been giving you shit for backing out on the trip the five of you had been discussing for a few months. There were just too many things going on in your life at the time, so you told them you wouldn’t be able to make it before tickets were purchased. Of course, your absence made several of your followers question if your friend group had a falling out, but you all decided not to address pointless rumors.

“I’ll come along next time when I’m not broke,” you assured. “I’m at my apartment now, so I’ll talk to you later. Bye-bye, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck threw up a peace sign before hanging up. You tucked your phone in your back pocket as you tried to fish out your key card from your purse.

However, there was a problem: it was missing.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, sitting down at one of the benches outside to dig through your purse. You swore you hadn’t taken it out, so it definitely wasn’t at Jeno’s place. The only possible explanation was that you dropped it on the way or left it inside your apartment.

Screw these auto-locking doors.

You were royally screwed.

Fast-forward to twenty minutes later. You were still sitting at the same bench. This time, your head was in your hands and you were shivering like a chihuahua. It was dark, save for the flickering streetlight above you. You had even resorted to texting Jeno, asking him if you could go back to his place and spend the night. It was downright embarrassing, but it was your last resort. Jeno, however, seemed to have been asleep due to his lack of response.

A guardian angel was sent your way, though, in the form of a cute but tired-looking college student with a bag of groceries in hand. Kind eyes, but he looked far too exhausted to smile genuinely.

“Do you need to be let in?” the boy asked, gesturing toward the apartment entrance. He had his key card in hand, and you nearly jumped to your feet.

“Uh, yeah, but…” you trailed off. Even if you accepted his offer, you wouldn’t be able to get into your own room.

He handed you his brown Essentials hoodie he had draped around across his shoulders. “Cold?”

You wondered if your shivering or hard nipples gave it away. Surely, it had to be your nipples showing through the skimpy one-piece you had on. You never would have dressed like this if you knew Jeno was going to make you walk home yourself.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the hoodie from him and slipping it on. It fell past your thigh and smelled good—a non-offending mix of pine and detergent. “Uh, but even if you let me in, I can’t get into my room. I lost my key.”

“Oh.”

You folded your arms across your chest. The boy beside you ruffled his fluffy brown hair, and you were wondering why he hadn’t gone inside the building yet. Maybe he was waiting for you to find some other place to go, or maybe he wanted his hoodie back.

“Have you tried asking the RA?” he asked.

“I can only get a card replacement in the morning.”

“Can your roommate open the door?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Got a friend who’ll let you stay at their place?”

“Asleep.”

“Significant other?”

“I’m single and my dick appointment made me walk home alone.”

You didn’t realize how bitter you sounded until you saw the shocked look drawn across the boy’s face. You felt sorry for dumping that on him, but you were getting way too frustrated about your lack of options. You didn’t even have a roommate you could call for help since you opted for a single.

He cleared his throat before shyly offering, “Uh… I guess you could stay at my place for the night, if you want. I can sleep on the couch.”

Your cheeks heated up. You were no stranger to random kindness from men, but perhaps you were just grateful for his proposition since you were running low on options.

“That’d be great,” you said. “Thanks.”

You followed the boy into the apartment building. He introduced himself as Na Jaemin, an animal science major in your same year who was president of a club that raised guide dogs for blind people. It was comforting to hear, so your anxiousness over this stranger luring you in to murder you in cold blood was slowly letting up.

He unlocked the door for you, letting you into his apartment first. You looked around to see a quite ordinary looking living space with a few posters and polaroids hung up on the walls. There was a border collie curled up in a dog bed in the corner of the living room, and Jaemin was being extra careful to make sure he didn’t accidentally wake him up.

He set the plastic bag down, which you found out was dog food that he picked up from a friend. It definitely made a lot more sense than him shopping for groceries at three in the morning.

“You live alone?” you asked for the sake of making small talk.

“My roommate graduated a semester early,” he replied. “I’ve been living on my own, just like you.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?”

He turned the question back to you, asking, “Do you get lonely?”

You shrugged as you sat down on his couch, sitting stiffly at the edge of the cushion. “When you get so much attention online, you kind of need the privacy.”

“Oh, I see.”

No more questions asked.

Jaemin retreated into his room for a moment before returning with a pillow and blanket in hand. He tossed them beside you on the couch and met your gaze.

“Bed’s ready for you whenever,” he said. “The bathroom’s inside my room, if you need to use the shower or anything. Let me know if you need any clothes to sleep in.”

Your face was heating up like a furnace, but you were glad he couldn’t see how his words were affecting you. You flushed with embarrassment when you noticed Jaemin’s eyes flicker past your neck. He probably thought his gaze went undetected, but you noticed. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was pull his hoodie high enough so that the hood hid the hickies Jeno left across your skin.

“I can just use your hoodie,” you replied. “Thanks.”

Jaemin managed a small, tired smile. You took that as your cue to get out of the living room so that he could pass out in peace. So, you headed into his bedroom and stared at his tidy bed, wondering if he had frantically fixed his sheets for you.

Since you already felt like you had asked for too much, you decided to skip your nightly shower and head straight to bed. It was hard to sleep in a stranger’s bed, though—no matter how pretty he was.

You were used to kindness. It normally came in a package deal with being attractive. Bees flocked to honey; humans flocked to beauty.

This feeling, however, wasn’t something you were used to. Genuine kindness with no ulterior motive was almost foreign, which was upsetting to admit. You weren’t sure how to sort out your feelings, but all you knew was that Jaemin’s eyes had stars in them, and you were tempted to lose yourself in them.

You woke up to an empty house.

Even the dog had abandoned you.

To be fair, you weren’t exactly an early bird. You woke up at around 10:30 a.m. naturally, and then spent an extra thirty minutes trying to muster up the willpower to get out of bed. Of course, you spent that time updating your group chat on your whereabouts.

gigi: 15k isn’t that insane?

gyu: holy shit gyu: you have to do it

karibear: gigi i will literally kill you and then resurrect you to kill you again if you don’t

gigi: check out the deliverables tho gigi: [File Attachment]

hyuck: instagram story highlight? the fuck? hyuck: a tiktok should be enough. more people check tiktok than ig now anyways lol

gigi: right???

karibear: OK BUT FIFTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS

y/n: just caught up. I think you should do it for the $$ gigi

gigi: GIRL where have u been

gyu: i told you she probably overslept

gigi: BUT I SEE HER LOCATION ON FINDMYFRIENDS gigi: SHE IS NOT HOME

y/n: i may or may not be in a cute guy’s apartment

karibear: shut the fuck up

y/n: stop he’s REALLY cute y/n: dare i say cuter than jeno

hyuck: stfu ur kidding

gyu: well?? did you sleep with him? gyu: give us all the details

y/n: no i couldn’t find my key after coming back from jeno’s and was locked out of my apartment y/n: so this “na jaemin” appears and lets me sleep over at his place for the night y/n: he took the couch AND let me sleep on his bed y/n: jeno could never

gyu: aww that’s actually rlly sweet

gigi: can’t find him on ig ://

karibear: no social media presence?? karibear: idk if that’s hot or a red flag

hyuck: probably both 💀

y/n: um good thing red’s my favorite color

karibear: omfg karibear: do u actually wanna fuck him karibear: send us a picture of what he looks like

y/n: idk if he’s even interested in me like that y/n: but idk i also want my internet famous trophy boyfriend :( y/n: idk if this guy even has a social media presence y/n: still a starboy in my heart tho <3

hyuck: keep your eye on the prize bbyg hyuck: fame is fleeting so milk it while you can

You figured Donghyuck had a point. You were an internet celebrity (to some extent), so, in terms of marketing, it would be wise to push the “unattainable” image you cemented. Dating someone equally as unattainable would make you look even more desirable.

However, you were starting to lose all rhyme and reason when you walked out of the bedroom to see a plate of eggs and toast waiting for you on the kitchen counter.

A post-it note was right next to it, reading: I’m out walking the dog. I made you some breakfast if you’re hungry but you don’t have to eat it. Door auto locks so just make sure you close it whenever you leave. Here’s my phone number if you need anything. +82 x-xxxx-xxxx - Jaemin

You decided to update your group chat.

y/n: change of plans y/n: i’m making starboy mine

When Jaemin returned home shortly after you discovered his note, you were sitting on his couch, knees tucked to your chest as you forked down the waffles he made. Before you even looked up to greet him, you heard his dog yapping excitedly, hurrying over to sniff you.

“Oh, you’re still here.” He looked genuinely surprised, though he didn’t object. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, really well,” you admitted. Curious, you tilted your head and let your lips curl into a knowing smile. “Are you high?”

Jaemin stiffened up. “Uh, a little. Is it that obvious?”

“I just noticed your eyes look sort of dazed.”

You hadn’t expected it, but he almost sounded embarrassed to be caught. “I’m not like a… a full-on stoner or anything.”

“Hey, no judgment,” you replied, holding up your hands in surrender. “I was just gonna ask if I could get high with you, too.”

After visibly relaxing, a more confident grin dawned on Jaemin’s face as he handed you his pen. You couldn’t help but feel smug as you accepted it gingerly.

About a couple hours later, you and Jaemin were blazed out of your minds. He had offered you an edible shortly after you took a hit from his pen, and it kicked in an hour later for you and Jaemin. There were no words exchanged for a while, but then you two started to converse, although you couldn’t trust that anything you were saying made sense.

You weren’t big on flirting. It was a skill you only put to use when absolutely needed, and this was one of those instances. You figured this was the perfect opportunity to get close to Jaemin. Even though you could tell he was a really, really great guy, and you didn’t want to rush things with Jaemin, there were a few factors that were making you throw your morals to the wind.

For one, you were high and getting incredibly horny.

The other factor was that Jaemin was the hottest man you had ever seen (and you had encountered a lot of attractive men).

“So,” he started, “you’re, like, an internet celebrity? Like a TikToker?”

“I started on Twitter,” you explained, “but, yeah, I’m famous on TikTok, too. But there’s a good chance you’ve never heard of me.”

“Really? Why?”

“I’m known for more, uh”—you let out a nervous giggle—“risqué stuff, if you wanna see.” When he nodded eagerly, you took out your phone and opened Twitter to show Jaemin your account. Right off the bat, there was a mirror selfie of you in lingerie and cat ears. Because you were feeling bold, you added, “And the guy who made me walk home alone? He’s a famous YouTuber named Jeno.”

Something seemed to click for Jaemin when you mentioned Jeno’s name because it was the only thing that snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. He had been looking at the photo of you so intently that you were wondering if he was checking you out or spacing out.

“I think I’ve watched some of his gaming videos,” he said before handing your phone back to you. “He just… kicked you out?”

“Pretty much. At least he made me cum once.”

“Just once?”

You held your breath for a moment. With those two words, Jaemin made the atmosphere all the more tense, and you felt like you two were suspended in time. Although you weren’t sure if he said that to challenge Jeno or not, there was still a strange implication in his words. It left you wondering if Jaemin could treat you better.

“Yeah,” you replied in a quieter voice. “Just once. With my help, too.”

“That’s fucked.” Jaemin reached for his pen to take a long, slow drag. He held it in his lungs for a moment before he parted his lips to blow the smoke out. “And you dressed up so pretty for him.”

Either Jaemin was a secret dark horse when it came to smooth talking or the weed was making him horny, too. Whatever it was, his comments made your cheeks burn.

“I bet he’d be pissed if he found out I ended up in your bed after.”

The animal science major flushed at your words, growing even more shy when you giggled at his reaction. “I mean, I guess so, but we didn’t, like… I mean, we—”

“I was kidding,” you assured. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t say that unless something actually happened.”

Jaemin nodded quietly, falling back into silence for a while. You were worried that you had made the conversation awkward, so you sunk back against the couch and willed yourself to come down from your high. Maybe the weed was a bad idea. Maybe you were just getting ahead of—

“So, you wouldn’t be opposed if something were to happen?”

The question took you off-guard, and you had to process Jaemin’s words for a few moments before you sat up to look at him. There was no shame or shyness drawn across his face this time. Just pure curiosity. (And perhaps a hint of longing which was most likely brought on by the weed.)

You shook your head with a hum. “No, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think you’re cute. You seem really sweet, too, like letting me sleep over and making me breakfast.”

Jaemin smiled brightly, beaming ear to ear before he ducked his head shyly. You were surprised that he was so sheepish given his godsent looks. He had to have heard these compliments about a million times now. There was no way you were the first person to recognize his looks.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted.

“Good at what?”

“Um, hitting on girls,” Jaemin said. His hand flew to rub the back of his neck as he added, “Cute girls.” After another beat, he let his head hang and then let out a groan. “Sorry, I don’t have a filter when I’m high.”

“Jaemin,” you cooed, scooting close enough so that your knees were touching. You placed your hand on his thigh, which made him finally look you in the eyes. “I’m pretty bad at flirting, too, so I hope this is working.”

The corner of his lip hitched up, amused. “Yeah,” Jaemin murmured, his eyes unfocusing as he leaned in close, “it’s definitely working.”

Your nose brushed against his experimentally before Jaemin pressed his lips to yours. It was gentle and innocent, but then Jaemin turned his body to face yours, and his hands started roaming your body. Your waist, your back, your hips—not an inch was neglected while he felt you up. You let slip a hum of delight, and that encouraged Jaemin to slip his tongue past your lips.

He didn’t use too much tongue, which you appreciated. There was something too sloppy about guys who used too much tongue, but Jaemin had an excellent balance between precise and hasty. And he did this thing where he would pause to suck on your tongue and then your bottom lip, which you really appreciated.

You let a whine slip, and Jaemin gripped your waist tighter. You figured he wanted you on his lap, so you threw one leg over his thigh and straddled him. It was like you were in a trance with how receptive you were, and you only wanted more when Jaemin pulled away to kiss down your neck. After minutes of nipping, sucking, and relishing your whimpers, he was satisfied with the bruises littered across your skin.

Jaemin seemed frustrated by how big his hoodie was on you, so he tugged at it until you pulled it up and over your head. After discarding it to the side, his lips found yours immediately after. The pads of his fingers slipped past the hem of your shirt to dig into your skin, pulling you flush against his body.

You were sure you could kiss him for hours, but your attention was slipping away when you felt his boner underneath you. The very least you could do was offer to help him out.

You pulled away to catch your breath, and your voice was no louder than a breath when you offered, “Let me suck you off.”

Jaemin blushed a little, and you bit back a smile because how could someone be so forward and cute? He was not innocent in the slightest, but he somehow got flustered so easily.

His voice came out strangled when he said, “Please.”

You carefully peeled off Jaemin’s shirt, admiring his muscles as you revealed his bare skin. He had to work out regularly to get a build this good, but you didn’t expect him to be this ripped. It was almost second nature when you started kissing down his chest, smiling when you heard his happy sigh.

When your kisses reached his stomach, you started tugging at the band of his sweatpants. Jaemin carded his fingers through your hair to keep you where he wanted to, and you were pretty sure all his blood was rushing to his cock with how much bigger he got. You tugged his sweatpants down to his knees and kissed up his strong thigh, looking up at him through your lashes. You wanted Jaemin to know just how drunk you were on his body.

Jaemin helped you tug down his boxers, too, and you swallowed hard when you saw how huge he was. His cock sprung up, and you were almost worried that you wouldn’t be able to take all of him in. While you were tying up your hair, Jaemin gave his shaft a few pumps, rubbing his thumb across the precum that beaded his slit.

A few strands of your hair got in your face, so Jaemin brushed them back and held your hair in his fist, undoing your ponytail so that he could tie back your hair properly. He looked down at you expectantly, cradling your jaw while you were mentally preparing yourself to take him. You flattened your tongue and ran it along the side of his cock, licking right where his vein was. Jaemin let out a groan almost instantly, and you looked up to see his eyes burning molten hot with desire.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled, gripping the back of your head.

His cock was throbbing, aching for you to take more of him in. So you slid your tongue over his head before hollowing your cheeks to suck him in. Jaemin gritted his teeth and tilted his head back, muttering some profanity that only encouraged you further.

You went slow at first, drawing out each bob of your head so that you got used to his size. You couldn’t go all the way down on him without his head hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little before you started to properly take him down your throat. Jaemin started thrusting his hips into your mouth, urging you to go faster. You weren’t sure if that meant he was going to cum soon, but you sped up regardless.

“Fuck,” Jaemin rasped out, watching you with absolute admiration in his blown-out eyes, “I’m gonna cum.”

His grip on your hair loosened, as if he was ready to let you pull off of him, but you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes while you sucked harder. You wanted him to cum in your mouth, and he seemed to get the message because his moan was cut off by his orgasm.

You continued to suck on his cock while he came, swallowing without hesitation. Jaemin thrusted shallowly inside your mouth, his husky moans making you pull off him to lick a long stripe down his length.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, catching your breaths and watching each other’s chest rise and fall. Then, Jaemin leaned in to cup your cheek and kiss you once more. He didn’t even care that he was tasting himself on your lips, but he just needed more of you.

“Let me return the favor,” he said once he pulled away. Before you could respond, Jaemin scooped you up in his strong arms. You held onto his biceps, gasping when he held your bottom firmly. “I promise I’ll make you feel really good.”

Jaemin set you on the cool granite surface of the kitchen counter, and you were glad that he kept the place clean. You would have felt gross if it was any other man, like Jeno’s grimey kitchen counter littered with dirty dishes, but you were too wrapped up in your own lust to care about moving to Jaemin’s bed.

Being high made you so sensitive that every touch from Jaemin left you trembling. As he undressed you, you couldn’t help but shudder and gasp whenever his fingers brushed over a sensitive area. He seemed to take notice, which you observed by his small smirk. As soon as Jaemin got rid of your garments, leaving you naked, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Gorgeous,” he praised, leaning forward to take your nipple in his mouth. He sucked on the supple skin eagerly, making you moan and grab at his shoulder.

You let out a gasp when Jaemin grabbed your other breast in his hand, squeezing firmly and running his thumb along the nipple. After he decided he showed your chest enough attention, Jaemin started kissing down your stomach until he reached the apex of your thighs. He trailed kisses along your pelvis, peppering more along the top of your thighs, and you used your elbows to balance your weight on the counter. You were surely going to collapse if he kept going.

“Jaem,” you whined, “don’t tease.”

He smirked as he parted your legs even further, humming inquisitively at the sight of your soaked cunt. He lifted both of your legs and settled them on each of his shoulders, and you sucked in a sharp breath to prepare yourself.

Jaemin dipped his head and ran his flattened tongue along your folds, and god, you were floating high up in the clouds.

After some strokes of his tongue, Jaemin stiffened his tongue to lick deeper, parting your slit so that he could ravage your cunt. You couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, begging for more and more. Your engorged clit was soon aching for attention, and you became a complete mess as soon as Jaemin’s lips found your little ball of nerves.

Soon, Jaemin was holding your hips down as he ate you out like a man starved. You had never experienced pleasure so intense, and you were finding it hard to believe that the meek boy you met last night was this bold. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer even though his face was practically wet with your arousal.

“I-I’m close,” you breathed out, and your hips were struggling to grind down to meet Jaemin’s tongue. You wanted more—no, you needed more.

“I know,” he whispered against your thigh, and before you could beg, he snaked his tongue in your entrance, allowing your walls to clench and unclench around his hot muscle.

He used his fingers to rub your clit in small, tight circles, all the while eating you out so vigorously that you couldn’t even think about anything except Jaemin. How good he made you feel. How lucky you were to be under him.

You were drowning soon after—drowning in utmost bliss. A toe-curling orgasm shook your body, leaving your back arching against the kitchen counter. You couldn’t even process how loud your moan was until Jaemin was shushing you gently, abusing your clit throughout your orgasm while his other hand was clamped over your mouth.

“Shh,” he cooed, almost mocking you. “The walls are thin, doll.”

You nodded, looking up at him with glazed-over eyes. You just needed to focus on anything to keep you at bay, to keep you from being pulled under the current of your climax.

“Gonna carry you to the bed, okay?” he told you, and you nodded without a second thought, letting him princess carry you to his bedroom.

As soon as he laid you down gently, Jaemin leveled his cock at your entrance, running his head along the folds of your cunt. You were already exhausted from your previous orgasm, but you were still eager to feel Jaemin inside of you.

“I’ll go slow,” he assured, teasing the tip of his cock inside you so gently that you were about to fall apart. You had no more than an inch inside of you, and your walls were already clenching hard around him.

Your eyes rolled back when he pushed deeper inside you, and then soon he was bottoming out, and you could feel his thighs pressed against yours. The cry that left your lips and the groan that escaped his nearly sounded like a melody in your eyes. Each wave of pleasure made you feel like you were traveling light years past several galaxies. Stars pinpricked your vision, but you could make out Jaemin’s face among the collisions of supernovas.

“I can’t,” you whimpered, unable to form proper, coherent sentences. “Fast—go faster.”

Something primal glinted in Jaemin’s dark eyes, and started ramming into you while holding your hips tight. His head dipped to ravage your neck, kissing and sucking as he pleased while his cock hit that perfect spot that made you see white spots in your vision. You felt a ripple of pleasure shoot under your skin.

And something else must have snapped in Jaemin because he started spewing absolute filth in your ears, and lord, was it making you lose your mind.

“I’m the best you’ve had, aren’t I?” he asked with brimming confidence, opting for sharp and precise thrusts.

You half-nodded, your cheek pressing against the pillow as your nails raked down Jaemin’s back. But Jaemin didn’t appreciate your lack of words.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pressed, “say it.” He pressed his lips to your ear and nibbled on the shell. You squirmed when you felt his hot breath fan your neck. “C’mon, I haven’t fucked you dumb already, right?”

You managed to cry out, “Y-yes, Jaemin! I’ve… I’ve never felt this good.”

He cupped your cheek and rubbed gently with his thumb, smiling down at you so kindly that it felt condescending. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, then?”

You felt those ripples of pleasure intensify, and soon they were rising to a crescendo. You felt like you were being split apart on Jaemin’s cock, and it didn’t help that he refused to slow down before you orgasmed. You bucked your hips against him, eager to chase the pleasure that was just in your reach.

And, after Jaemin pressed his lips against yours, all of the stars in the night sky collided and exploded into nothingness.

You felt your orgasm tear through you, immobilizing you with blinding pleasure. You gasped and gripped the sheets tightly, praying that you could hold on for dear life. Jaemin slowly fucked you through your orgasm, your clenching walls bringing him to pull out of you and let his cum spill onto your stomach.

Jaemin let out a shaky sigh of contentment, and he quickly returned to your side without giving himself time to recover. Instead of basking in post orgasm glow, Jaemin aided your ongoing climax by rubbing your clit in slow, torturous circles.

“I got you,” he crooned, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks. “I got you, doll.”

You were a whimpering, moaning mess underneath him, and you couldn’t think of anything but Jaemin as you writhed. After a few more aftershocks of pleasure (all thanks to Jaemin, of course), you finally started returning to your senses. It was possible that Jaemin had actually fucked you dumb.

He hurried to his feet to clean you up. It was a stark contrast from how he acted in bed, but your heart melted when he made sure you got enough water before he tucked you in bed. No guy had ever taken his time with aftercare for you, so you were starting to feel like being kicked out of Jeno’s apartment was a stroke of luck.

Later, he moved to lay down next to you, kissing the top of your head as he slid in. You wrapped your arm around him and you two were eventually a mess of tangled limbs.

“Can I stay?” you asked, somewhat nervous that he would ask you to leave soon.

“Of course,” he replied, easing your nerves with a gentle smile, “you can stay for as long as you want.” You cuddled close to him, burying your face into his chest, and then you heard him ask, “How do you feel?”

You smiled. “Like a star.”

#nct scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #nct smut #jaemin x reader #na jaemin smut #na jaemin #nct oneshots #nct dream oneshots #jaemin oneshots #00 line hard hours #00 line smut #nct dream hard hours #nct hard hours

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eomayas · 7 months ago

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exo masterlist

key: smut (s), suggestive (sg), fluff (f), angst (a), request (r), complete (c) [for series], popular(🌷), personal favorite (🌹)

EXO

— airport dads

— sugar daddy line

— exo when angry | r

— exo simping | sg 🌷

— jealous exo

— pda

— being shipped with another idol | r

kim minseok

— best friend | f

— in the morning | s, f, r 🌹

kim junmyeon

— sneakin’ | s, a

— nip slip | s 🌷

— testy | s 🌹

— handsome stranger | f

— strictly business | s, r 🌹

— yours | f, a, r

— wants & needs | s, f, r

byun baekhyun

— baby blues | f, a, r

— unplanned | a, r

— besos | f, r

— frisky | sg, r 🌹

— baby blues (vol. 2) | f, a, r

— soft side | f, r

— the bodyguard | f, a, r

— broken promises | a, r

— (computer) games | f, r

— cream soda | s, f, r 🌷

— all the rumors are true | f, a 🌷🌹

— closure | s, a

— fantasy | sg, a, f

kim jongdae

— coming soon

park chanyeol

— back 2 u | a, sg, r

— new thing (series) | s, f, a, c

— rainy day | s, r

— call me what you want, when you want, if you want | a, f, r

do kyungsoo

— make it up to you | s 🌹

— caught in the act | s, f 🌷🌹

— amore | f

— tender love | f, r

— ninety | a, f

— interruptions | f, sg 🌹

— swervin | s

kim jongin

— d appointment | s, f

— confessions | f, a (sequel to d appointment)

— friendly competition | f

— take a break | f, r

oh sehun

— 10:07 pm | s

— firsts | s, f, r

#exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #exo x you #baekhyun x reader #exo #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun x you #baekhyun scenario #do kyungsoo #park chanyeol #kim minseok #kim jongin #oh sehun #byun baekhyun #kim jongdae #kim junmyeon

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myrainbowgelpen · 5 months ago

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(now playing) 🎧: Stay Up — BAEKHYUN

MATURE FIC RECS

CALL ME, BABY | @icequeenbae [established rel, PWP, phone sex, toys] 3.3K PINK LACE | @bobohu4eva [college!au, stripper!au, slow burn] series WEIGHT LOSS ALTERNATIVES | @gyudior [sub!bbh, married!au] 4.6K CREAM SODA | @eomayas [idol!bbh, PWP] HIGH FOR THIS | @exxxoblr [friends with benefits?] 1.2K FIRE | @kpopfanfictrash [rivals to lovers, druglord!bbh] 3.2K THIRSTY | @cbx-squad-chenbaekxiu-blog [vampire!bbh] STAY THE NIGHT part 2 | @icequeenbae [dad!bbh, established rel] 3.2K DEAL WITH IT part 1 | @byuntrash101 [sub!fuckboy!bbh, exes, degradation] 4.9K ECSTASY | @bobohu4eva [soloist!bbh, drug use, toxic relationship] series MUTUALLY BENEFICIAL | @breakyeol [bff!bbh, porn, masterbation] 3K HITCHED | @bobohu4eva [arranged marriage] 9.8K 02:50 | @cyberexo NO MISTAKE | @an-annyeoing-writer "COME AND MAKE ME" | @yeoldontknow [morning after, ligth ditry talk] 1.2K RECKLESS | @taetaesbaebaepsae [mafia!au] 1.6K A LESSON | @8bityeol [asking friend!bbh to teach you how to...] CYCLE | @gyudior [strangers with benefits, toxic!bbh] SANTA SUIT | @kpopfanfictrash [friends to lovers] 2.9K YOU GHOST | @icequeenbae [demon!bbh] 7.6K GOOD TO YOU | @bobohu4eva [idol!bbh, maid au] series TOUCH IT FOR REAL | @soobadnoonecanstopher [virgin!baek, roomates, slow burn, mutual pining] series

to be updated…

#baekhyun #exo #smut #ficrec

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kaleidohscopic · 8 months ago

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SWEET — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: it's one thing to run into the guy you maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for at your mutual friends' birthday party. it's another thing to find out he maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for you too. GENRE: friends (ish) to lovers! au, romance, a hint of smut, some pining if you squint WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, jenkai (humour me), wayyyy too much sexual tension, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end but nothing super explicit (bc idk how to write that stuff sorry!), general mature content and themes WORD COUNT: 4.4k NOTE: super self-indulgent w barely any plot or characterisation (basically four thousand something words of foreplay lol), i saw that video of baek at one of the lonsdaleite stops unbuttoning his shirt and it drove me a little loopy ngl...

The last time you had seen Byun Baekhyun was two years ago.

Graduation. Gowns. Bouquets. There was probably a photo of the two of you, along with the rest of your cohort, sitting around somewhere in the depths of your camera roll, fresh-faced and eager to take on the exciting new world outside of 3000-word essays and 9 am tutorials. Four years taking variations of the same courses and bitching about the same tutors meant you were far from strangers, but sadly, the friendship had dwindled once you’d left the classrooms for good — something you had been just a little gutted about. These days, his appearances in your life were rare, save for the times he’d come up in conversation with the friends you both shared back in the day, or his sporadic likes on your instagram posts.

Except now, of course, as you watched him climb up the stairs to the rooftop bar, gift bag in one hand and suit jacket in the other.

“Happy birthday!” he beamed, enveloping your best friend in a hug. The fabric of his shirt strained against the movement of his arms, and you caught a whiff of his delicious woody cologne as he approached.

You had known there’d be a possibility he’d show up today. This year, Jennie had made the enlightened decision to throw a joint celebration with her boyfriend, and obviously that entailed inviting all of his friends — which honestly, wasn’t even that many extra heads since Jongin only ever spoke to the same eight people. You’d seen Baekhyun’s name on the guest list that you had helped her put together, and seen it again listed under the ‘going’ tab of the event, but having the real deal in front of you was another experience entirely.

Crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled up, fitted slacks, and just a glimpse of his toned chest peeking out from where the top few of his shirt buttons were undone.

He looked fucking good.

Even better than he did two years ago.

Jennie squeezed him back with just as much fervour. “So glad you could make it! Jongin’s been stuck to my side all night with no one to talk to, he’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

He pulled back with a chuckle, and it was then that he finally laid eyes on you, seated next to the birthday girl, holding matching martinis, and doing your best not to look like you had been shamelessly checking him out for the entire 45 seconds since he had arrived. His eyes widened slightly with recognition as your name left his mouth.

“You haven’t forgotten each other, right?” Jennie laughed. The descent of his eyes down the length of you was quick, but not careless, and heat flared in your body all the same. When his gaze returned back to your face, the beginnings of an appreciative smile were shaping the curve of his mouth.

“Not yet, I hope,” he answered her, but his eyes were still on you. “Nice seeing you again. You look good.”

“So do you, Baekhyun,” you replied, because it was the truth. His smile only grew.

Jennie tipped back the rest of her martini and bade the both of you a hasty farewell, saying something about fixing up the photo zone as she hurried towards the other end of the rooftop. A few of the girls, too excited about the open bar, had knocked the cushions onto the ground, and were doing a poor job of rearranging them back on the wooden swing.

He slid into her now-vacant seat, elbows resting on the bar counter, giving you an excellent view of the shape of his forearms and the veins that adorned it.

“You’re not going to have that?” he asked, nodding at the sad little olive that sat all alone at the bottom of your empty glass.

“Not a fan of the saltiness,” you answered, and offered it to him. You watched as he plucked the garnish stick out of your fingers and put the olive in his mouth with no hesitation, eyes lingering a little too long on the movement of his throat as he swallowed it. “I like sweet things better.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he chuckled. “You used to only ever drink vodka cranberries.”

Suddenly, you were twenty-one again, peering through the cafe window and getting a little too giddy at the thought of meeting up outside of the stuffy tutorial classroom to work on the project you had both been assigned to. You’d be lying through your teeth if you said that a crush on Baekhyun was something you never entertained throughout your four years of university together. And maybe it had been reciprocated, for the briefest of times, just after that joint presentation on data structures, where the thought of stepping over from friendly more-than-acquaintances into something more had crossed your mind enough times for you to lose count. There had been something there, or at the very least a hint of something, in the nights spent crammed into a tiny library booth meant only for one person, poring over stale and tedious papers on algorithm organisations in each other’s company.

But nothing had happened. He hadn’t made a move, and neither had you, laden with the fear of rejection that was so indicative of youth. And maybe that had been a huge misplay on your part, because a few weeks after wrapping up the project that had brought you together, he was at your faculty’s monthly pub crawl, introducing you to his new girlfriend, who had actually asked him out just the day before.

Safe to say that had been the end of that. You were not the type to homewreck.

“How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t seen you since — god, it must have been graduation?”

“Something like that,” you replied through a smile. “I still have the photos on my phone.”

“So do I,” he said, flashing you a boyish grin. Then, as if doubting the accuracy of his own words, he promptly pulled out his phone and began scrolling towards the top, brows furrowed with determination. It was a few seconds later that he found what he was looking for, turning the screen towards you with a triumphant noise.

The picture had been taken outside the ceremony hall, set against the familiar sea of graduation gowns, but that was the only familiar thing about it. In the foreground stood just you and Baekhyun, not stiffly posing for the camera as you had been in all of the group shots that existed on your phone, but turned towards each other, faces bursting with elated smiles. Neither of you looked to be aware that there was even a camera on you. The you in the photo had your mouth half open in the tell-tale way it always did when you were about to laugh at the ridiculously corny jokes he loved to crack. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, partially from the glare of the sun overhead — the weather had been phenomenal for the usual gloominess of May — and partially in delight at your reaction, having cracked said joke.

“I’ve never seen this one before. Did you forget to Airdrop this to me on the day?” you asked, a joking accusation colouring your voice.

“My mum only sent it to me a whole month later. I didn’t even know she had taken these,” he said, zooming in to better see the expressions on your upturned faces. “We look so happy here,” he added, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

“And young,” you agreed, but not without a sigh. The you of two years ago had yet to know the pains of having seven different bills to pay every month, and watching the money trickle out of your bank account like water from a leaking tap.

He gave you a gentle, teasing nudge with his elbow. “We’re not that old now. We could definitely still pass as twenty somethings.”

“That’s probably because we are still actually twenty somethings,” you countered with a laugh.

There was an unprecedented ease with which you fell into conversation with Baekhyun. Despite the considerable gap of silence between now and the last time you had seen him, there was nothing in his demeanour or your own that indicated just how much time had passed. It was rather comforting to see a face from your university days, and even better that that face was still as gorgeous as ever.

You watched as he flicked through a few more photos from the day, mostly of him and his friends from university — one of whom was the other main event of tonight — until he landed on a picture of him with his girlfriend. You recognised the photo, seeing as you had been the one who offered to take it. He had an arm around her waist while she carried a huge bouquet with a teddy bear sitting atop the arrangement.

“Didn’t I help you order that thing?” you asked, pointing to the flowers in her hand. He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say much else, scrolling through to the next photos with his parents, which had also been taken by you. They stood on either side of him, beaming with pride, and then there were a few after that with his girlfriend as well, the four of them all standing together and looking picture-perfect.

Perhaps the you of today would have chosen differently, found the balls to ask him out first — because what was the use in sitting and waiting around for the guy to make the first move? — and maybe you’d be the one in the photo instead, smiling up at the camera, an integral part of the family portrait. Maybe he’d be running his fingers across the inner curve of your wrist, instead of along the rim of the gin and tonic he had just ordered.

“She couldn’t make it today? Or was she not invited?” you asked, having not seen anyone walk in behind him. Although you hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else since he arrived, and if she had been here, you doubted she’d be all too pleased with how close your heads were, even if he was just showing you through his camera roll. With that in mind, you drew back slightly, just enough to catch the expression on his face twisted with an odd sort of surprise.

After a second or so, it melted into an easy-going grin.

“We broke up a while ago. A month or two after graduation, actually.”

Oh.

You and your big mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know — I shouldn’t have —”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he reassured, waving off your clumsy apologies. “Things just didn’t work out and we weren’t right for each other. It was a pretty amicable break, all things considered. But now, I get to sleep however I want in my own bed, so I really can’t complain,” he added, fishing another laugh out of you.

“Nothing beats starfishing in your sleep after a long day,” you hummed in agreement. Wednesday nights in your bedroom after a full day of client meetings could attest to that.

Baekhyun took a slow sip, pulling the drink into his mouth with a contemplative carefulness, and weighed up his words before he spoke again.

“What about you? Still with Jinyoung?” he asked, tone light and regarding you with curious eyes. Without meaning to, you let out a groan, and his left eyebrow quirked with interest.

“Don’t even go there,” you half-grimaced, reminded of the fling you had towards the end of fourth year with the business major. He was pretty, and had been nice enough, but by the fifth time he blew off spending time with you so that he could track the world stock indexes, it had become pretty clear that the two of you were on different paths in life. The sex was okay, but it had not been enough to warrant any more than a few late night rendezvous. For all you knew, he was probably now a very successful investment banker with 90 hour work weeks and making a shit-load of money you could only dream about having.

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the counter. “Let’s just say, he was more interested in looking at his dividend yields than he was in me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze flickered over the rest of you again, taking in the ridges of your collarbone and the soft curve of your waist, the touch of his eyes hovering above your skin like a tangible thing. You tried your best to look unaffected, forcing yourself to remain still under the weight of his stare despite the way it was melting you down to your bones.

“He definitely did not have his priorities in order,” he said, once his eyes ended their journey and returned back to your face. “You’re much nicer to look at.”

His words settled beneath your skin, pulling a sweet warmth to your cheeks that slowly radiated through the rest of your body. You watched as his mouth curved around the rim of his glass again, and followed the path of the drink down the length of his throat.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

He rewarded you with a sly smile.

“Then maybe you don’t know any better.”

Christ. Those were definitely bedroom eyes.

Your lips parted again, though you had little idea as to the words which were preparing to come out of them. Forming coherent and decent thoughts proved to be a great struggle when he looked like he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and you swore you could have crumpled right then and there if it hadn’t been for the bar stool underneath you.

“Baekhyun, you’re finally here,” said a giggly Jongin, suddenly appearing between the two of you with Jennie in tow.

The tension from seconds earlier dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

Someone (the birthday boy) had evidently made good use of the open bar to shed the self-imposed shell that came with introversion before the arrival of his friend. “I’m so, so happy to see you. We need to do some shots right now,” he said, now all serious, leaning over to peer at the drinks menu that he himself had signed off on.

Baekhyun was the first to break eye contact, turning to flash Jongin a fond smile. “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said, before downing the rest of his gin and tonic.

The birthday girl requested tequila shots, and the bartender was quick to supply, lining up four glasses and filling them with the clear alcohol that was a recurring character in all your worst hangover episodes. You passed them around, but not before turning back around to the bar for one more thing.

“And a vodka cranberry, please,” you added, catching the amused smile Baekhyun threw your way.

“For old time’s sake.”

It was approaching the early hours of the morning when the remainder of the party retired to the hotel suite Jennie had booked for the night. One of her chill, moody, late-night R&B playlists had been queued up and was playing softly on the speaker system in the living room — she had a playlist for every conceivable mood and situation — and you could just make out the melody of a Daniel Caesar song, quiet and soothing against the nighttime.

“Okay, you win,” Baekhyun conceded with amusement, sitting up to grab the soju bottle from your outstretched hand. “I’ve never had someone throw up on me, at least not on the first date.” He settled back against the pillows, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a small, slow sip.

“Thanks, but it’s a victory I’d rather not have. There’s no pride in knowing I’m the only person I know to have a guy spew all over my shoes within ten minutes of meeting me,” you said, leaning back and letting your hands sink into the plush comforter.

Some thirty or so minutes ago, you had found yourself in one of the smaller rooms of the suite, sitting across from Baekhyun with nothing but a few inches of egyptian cotton separating you. All night, you had felt his presence, whether it was the light brush of his warm fingers across the bare skin of your shoulder to grab your attention, or the weight of his stare from across the rooftop bar while you posed for pictures with Jennie and the rest of the girls. He had infiltrated your senses, occupying his own little space in the corner of your consciousness. Right now, having the whole of him so unobstructed before you, being the sole focus of his attention within the four walls of this small room — it was obvious that the alcohol wasn’t the only thing bringing a heady warmth to your face.

He levelled you with a careful look, and instead of handing the bottle back to you as he had done for the last thirty minutes, he set it onto the nightstand beside the bed with a soft clink. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“I think you should probably slow down,” he said, catching the curious tilt of your head. “Wouldn’t want you to do something you regret.”

You let a coy smile turn the corners of your mouth upward, shifting your weight off your hands and leaning towards him ever so slightly. “Trust me, I know my limits,” you said, and moved to grab the bottle.

The hand you placed on the top of his thigh to steady yourself as you reached over him was deliberate, and you failed to hide the deepening of your smile when you felt the muscles flex beneath your fingers. You also didn’t miss the dip of his eyes below the neckline of your dress as you hovered over him, only pulling back once the cool glass of the bottleneck was firmly in your grasp. The glimmer in his eyes, previously light and boyish, had darkened imperceptibly.

You were playing a dangerous game, and you both knew it.

Beyond the door, Jennie’s playlist had changed to something a little more sultry, Kehlani’s honeyed voice now floating among the sounds of the city from below. His gaze remained on you as you raised the bottle to your lips, tilting it back and letting the tartness of the grape soju fill your mouth.

The song wasn’t the only thing that had changed. There was a palpable shift in the room, a simmering heat gradually seeping into the atmosphere, brought on by your brazen touch. Still, he kept a safe distance, giving you the reins and the freedom to dispel the tension you had created.

Which you had absolutely no intention to.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, relishing in the way his eyes immediately left yours to track the movement. “You know,” you began, turning the bottle over in your hands, “I used to have a bit of a thing for you.”

His eyebrows raised with interest, but there was also a hint of surprise layered beneath.

“Third year, that data algorithms project. I thought a lot about asking you out, actually,” you continued, watching as his face slowly took on a smile at your words. A soft laugh escaped those pretty lips, as if he was enjoying some private joke that you weren’t in on. Without meaning to, you leaned in, drawn to the sound, wanting to understand the amusement behind it.

“You wanna know something?” he asked, to which you weren’t sure if you had actually nodded, or if you had only imagined that you did, too preoccupied by the inviting curve of his mouth.

He was all too willing to comply with the unspoken request behind your curious eyes, moving forward at a languid pace, until his lips hovered just over the shell of your ear, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the fluttering pull of air with each of his inhales and exhales. You could smell him too, his cologne now infused with the scent of his skin over the course of the evening, smooth and sweet, and much too dizzying.

His cheek brushed yours for a fraction of a second before you registered the conspiratorial whisper in your ear.

“So did I.”

You hadn’t even realised your own eyes had closed until they were fluttering open with his departure from your space. He pulled back, eyes gleaming with a furtive satisfaction like he had just let you in on some big, juicy, forbidden secret. It took a while for your chest to start pulling oxygen back into your lungs again. How he could render you so breathless when he had barely even touched you — you would’ve been embarrassed if not for the foggy warmth circling your head and radiating throughout the rest of your body, leaving you oblivious to everything but the sheer force of how much you wanted him.

He reached for the bottle, now almost empty, and you fought the flinch when you felt his fingers close around your hand. This time, you didn’t complain when he removed it from your grasp and set it back on the nightstand. The warmth of his hand did not leave yours, flipping it over to trail his fingers lightly across your knuckles.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, thumbing at the rings decorating your fingers. You could only manage a noncommittal hum in response. His touch had stolen your voice right out of your chest, along with all the rationality usually contained inside your mind, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of your own blood thrumming in your veins, hot and fast beneath your skin.

All night, you had danced around each other, stealing furtive glances and exchanging flirty smiles, carefully toeing around the edge of politeness and propriety. And maybe Baekhyun was just too polite, too respectful, letting you take the wheel and steer tonight in whichever direction you wanted, despite the want that was so clearly etched on his face.

Surely, your face was a mirror of his own. Surely, he could tell.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, unfurling your fingers to lace his own through them. The press of his warm skin against yours had you light-headed and almost delirious, but you forced your gaze to stay steady on him while you tried to find your voice again.

“I’m thinking,” you began, low and breathy, “about how you’ve been eye-fucking me this whole night.”

His sharp inhale was unmistakable above the quiet of the room. A meteor could have landed right outside the building and you wouldn’t even have noticed, held captive by his dangerous touch and the hunger flaring in his eyes.

“And,” you continued, “how I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it ever since you shut that door.”

The second after the words left your mouth seemed to stretch across an eternity. You watched as he registered them, transfixed by how his whole body seemed to cloud over with desire, pushing out any remaining trace of restraint.

One moment you were sitting on the bed, revelling in the delicious tension you had created, and the next he had pulled you flush against him. His mouth was on yours, hot and needy, the self-control he had been so meticulously keeping to for the entire night disappearing the instant he felt your lips move against his own. You were no better, hands leaving his to fist desperately at the fabric of his shirt. An airy moan left your throat when his tongue brushed against yours, letting you taste the sweetness you had been imagining ever since you laid eyes on him on the rooftop. He swallowed the sound, the plump flesh of his bottom lip tightening into a pleased smile at your reaction.

Baekhyun pulled away first, lips leaving yours to trail across your cheek and down the side of your neck, where you felt the light graze of his teeth over the skin, and then the wetness of his tongue following the same path. His hands had snaked around you, fingers digging into the curve of your waist, keeping you in place while he nipped at you, drawing stilted gasps out of your parted mouth. When he pulled the flesh into the warmth of his mouth and sucked it to a nice, dark bruise, the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach flared, violent and hungry.

You were going to lose your mind.

“You know, you could just try again,” you managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Ask me out.”

“Would you say yes?” he asked, and you felt his lips shape the words against your skin. They dragged back up the column of your throat, capturing your mouth again with another heated kiss that had your head spinning. He shifted, and your knees came to rest on either side of his leg, the firm muscles of his thigh pressing against the part of you that ached for his touch. In the haze of this moment, you didn’t know much, but you knew you would’ve said yes to absolutely anything to come out of that sweet, tempting mouth.

Still, you played along, letting a devious smile pull the corners of your mouth upwards. “That depends on how tonight goes.”

He drew back slightly, fixing you with a wicked look that held promises he was nothing short of determined to fulfil. You could see yourself reflected in the darkness of his blown-out pupils, flushed and already wrecked just from the attention of his mouth. Anticipation and thrill jolted through you like lightning, zipping through every cell in your body as your mind drifted to what he might have in store behind those enticing eyes.

You weren’t left wondering for long. His hands left your waist and moved to your calf, pushing up the silken fabric of your dress as they slowly crept upwards, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The brush of his fingers against your inner thigh drew another shuddering breath out of you.

His next words were not unlike an oath.

“Then I’d better make tonight fucking spectacular.”

#baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun smut #exo x reader #baekhyun fanfic #exo smut #baekhyun au #baekhyun fluff #kaleidohscopic works

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rrxnjun · 2 years ago

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TAKE THE STAIRS ✲ n. jaemin

pairing. na jaemin x fem! reader starring. na jaemin, ning yizhuo genre. college au, strangers to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive. warnings. alcohol consumption, throwing up, swearing word count. 18k (18.666) a/n. thank you all so much for 1k followers! consider this fic a small gift of celebration

playlist. candy - baekhyun ; honey - l'arc en ciel ; take the stairs - coin ; cutie - coin ; rose-colored boy - paramore ; don't go yet - camila cabello ; hot crush lover - blu detiger ; teenage dream - 5sos (cover)

after having an unexpected guest witness the neverending quarrels with your roommate, na jaemin starts to practically live at your place— or— where yizhuo's flegmatic project partner starts to put a suspicious amout of effort into their assignment.

✲ PART 2 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

Hot droplets of water wash over you like raindrops during a heavy storm, the mirror fogging up at the hot temperature you always choose to shower your body in, fingers trailing through your hair making you finally relax after a long day at college. You spent the day presenting your project and having a test from Physics, so you only deserve a good shower. You would even consider taking a bath, but your small apartment doesn’t have a bathroom big enough to contain a bathtub, so a good, scorching hot shower will have to suffice.

Now, you are a hard worker– however, you also like to wait until the last reasonable time to start working on your project. And while you’re best friends with procrastination, stress also decided to visit you for the time being; since, again, there was not much time for you to finish your project, and so in the whole process of working on it and doing extensive research about a topic you weren’t really that interested in in the first place, you forgot to take care of yourself. You wouldn’t even notice at first– not until one day when Yizhuo glared at you with questions in her eyes from the couch, seeing you go to the convenience store at 10pm with your home slippers still on because of your distracted mind– but when you looked at yourself in the mirror after arriving from school today, the image of your sweaty face and hair so oily you could probably fry a schnitzel on the extraction of the liquid from your follicles, you must admit that you’ve been neglecting your appearance for quite some time now, and so a well deserved annual everything-shower is the only thing on your mind right now.

Reaching over to the side of the shower that has various shelves installed, taking your hair conditioner into your palms and opening up the bottle, you get ready for the familiar smell of citrus that always hits your nose and makes you smile in satisfaction; yet, no matter how hard you try, the pleasant scent doesn’t come– and neither does the actual conditioner.

Huffing, even slapping the bottom of the bottle a few times, squeezing the tube as hard as you can– you tried everything, but to no use. Thinking back to the last few weeks, you try to remember when you bought the conditioner– because you swear it hasn’t been that long. There’s no way you already ran out, you think, as your eyes scan over the various bottles of other products in your shower, opting to use something your roommate has in stash– when you notice that there is no other hair conditioner in the shower, which makes the gears in your brain click in realization.

Sighing, you finish showering as you prepare your mental tangent in your brain. Drying off your body and slipping into your underwear, you put on the largest T-shirt you more often than not sleep in, not even bothering to put your hair up as you roughly scrunch it with your towel to get most of the water out, opting to leave the strands lay on your shoulders instead, in their full wet, naked mole rat glory.

Swinging the door to the bathroom open, you yell out the first sentence that comes to your mind– despite planning your outburst in your head beforehand.

“Ning Yizhuo! You used up all of my fucking hair conditioner again!” you scream into the apartment, knowing damn well that the walls are thin and she can hear you. “You promised you won’t use it after the last time! That shit is fucking expensive, y’know,” you mutter, voice still raised so your roommate can hear you.

“I’ll buy you a new one, chill out,” Yizhuo finally replies, her voice coming out of your living room. Your head snaps that way, feet dangling closer into the doorway.

“Yeah, well, maybe consider buying your own conditioner so you don’t have to replace mine every other week,” you spit, rolling your eyes in annoyance, “or at least buy a new one when it runs out, so I can actually use– oh.”

Stopping mid-sentence, your sudden outburst of anger is cut short as you notice another presence in the living room. There’s a man sitting on your sofa, his head turned towards you, flashing you an amused grin, and when his eyes scan you from head to toe, you’re suddenly painfully aware of your current state– only in your panties, with your hair wet, appearing as a chicken left outside in the rain, the wetness of your locks most likely dampening the thin fabric of your shirt to the point that it’s basically see through, revealing more to the stranger than you’d like. Crossing your arms at your chest, alert, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes jump from your roommate to the stranger in your living room, textbooks and an opened laptop scattered across the coffee table, making you believe it must be your roommate’s classmate of some sort.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she sighs and rolls her eyes, looking at you with amusement when she notices your distressed state, “this is Jaemin, by the way. We’re doing a project together.”

Humming, you look at the man again, taking a notice of his casual, yet attractive demeanor. Black bangs falling into his eyes and Adidas joggers hugging his legs, you press your lips into a thin line– somewhat resembling an embarrassed smile, before you slowly walk out of the room for the sake of their privacy and also your dignity. “Nice to meet you,” you mumble on your way out, “I’m Y/N.”

And before you’re out of the door, you turn your head towards your roommate again, biting back an ironic smile. “How nice of you to notify me that we’ll have guests over!”

With that, you’re out.

You guess that embarrassing yourself in front of Na Jaemin is how life is going to go now. Don’t get me wrong– the next time it happened, you were notified of his visit; after screaming at Yizhuo about how she handled it the last time around– and you even put some effort into your appearance, as if to balance the absolute atrocity he had to deal with the first time he laid his eyes on you. Not that you really care about his opinion, or that you want him to think you’re at least a little bit attractive, of course. You’d say this is just the basic human need to look presentable in front of people you don’t even know that well.

While you were notified about the fact that he would come over in the afternoon to work on the project, you still didn’t have it in you to just casually walk over to the living room and hang out with them, though. On top of that, they were doing a project in Neurophysiology together– and no matter how much laughter and noise you heard from the living room, where the two crashed for the time being, you still didn’t think it was okay for you to intrude to say hi to the man, or find enough courage to just hang out in the room with them, enjoying their talks and quarrel. It wasn’t the same as when you were doing a project with Minjeong from your Biology class or when Yizhuo had a few assignments to do with your mutual friend Jimin, the three of you working on your own stuff in your spacious living room, while also talking gossip and laughing about the latest fashion trends on Tiktok together.

But sitting in your room on a Wednesday evening, completely alone; because your roommate was busy working on a project and none of your other friends– not even the online ones– were there to entertain you with their talks, you had nothing to do. The only thing you could come up with while trying to entertain yourself was to watch the latest season of The Great British Bake Off, your legs swiftly moving you towards your table, where your laptop lay untouched, opening it and turning on the show.

Everyone knows that feeling of desiring something they see on the screen of the show they’re currently watching, right? The feeling only intensifies when it comes to food– delicious food, on top of that– and suddenly, you’re no stranger to the cravings in your stomach as you watch the contestants cut slices of cakes and taste the sweet, tasty pastries and doughs. Maybe you could look around your room and find something to eat to satisfy those needs, but something is telling you that the secret stash of M&M’s you had hidden in your room, away from the eyes of Ning Yizhuo– the resident M&M lover– was now long empty, the image of the packaging thrown in the trash can now vivid in your brain.

But the more you keep watching, the more you crave something sweet, and you know that if you don’t stand up from your place at the table and walk over to the snack cupboard in the kitchen, you’ll go insane. And with this knowledge, you take a deep breath in and out, trying to find some courage in you to show your face to your roommate and her new friend; your hand is soon on the door click and you almost watch yourself from the third perspective as your socked feet stumble out of the safety of your own room, bringing you towards the living room where the two of them have been sitting, intending to pass by them and silently take some sweets from the kitchen.

“Hi Y/N!” the man greets you, almost making you jump up and bump into the TV on the right side of the living room. Na Jaemin has a contagious smile on his face, and while you vividly remember greeting him when he arrived, just seconds before closing the door to your room, you still greet him again, trying hard to maintain the same amount of enthusiasm as him.

The conversation doesn’t progress much from that, the two of them too busy reading some article on Yizhuo’s laptop that’s currently sitting on one of each of their thighs, rimmed glasses adoring your roommate’s face, and you allow yourself to complete your mission as you walk over to the kitchen that connects to the room.

Reaching over to the kitchen cabinet that is designated to hold all sorts of various snacks both you and your roommate love to eat and share on movie nights, you search over the stash and try to find something that fits your cravings perfectly. Eyes scanning over Skittles, some chocolate bars and even a bag of chips, you decide to take all of them– because you never know, sometimes you have the strange desire to chase down the sweetness with some salt– and also look over the room for a drink you could take with you, since you’ve gotten a bit thirsty over the course of the last few hours you spent camping in your room.

Holding all of the items in your arms, looking as if you’ve just done a grocery run and forgot to take a bag with you, you almost don’t see the floor below your feet as you walk– no, scratch that– you literally do not see the ground below your feet at all.

We mentioned you embarrassing yourself in front of Na Jaemin again at the very beginning of this scene. You may be wondering where that part comes to play– and let me tell you, the moment is now, and it has correlation with the sheer fact that you can’t see where you’re walking and you’re also rushing to get back to your room quickly, hide yourself away from their eyes and finish the episode of bake-off while munching on the party mix of snacks you’re planning on creating.

In your true fashion, considering all the variables of the situation you found yourself in right now, the ground is suddenly swept from beneath your feet as you trip over the door sill that separates the kitchen from the living room, your body falling to the ground with all the snacks in your hands and the bottle of Diet coke secured under your shoulder.

Desperate to keep the snacks intact, you don’t even drop the bag of chips to the floor before you fall to make some room in your palms to try to soften the fall. No, you fall down like a rag doll, face first to the laminated floor, the sound of your body hitting the ground resonating through both your brain and the whole apartment. A few seconds later, the sound of a bottle rolling across the length of the living room fills your ears and you feel a sharp pain in your side, the humiliation and growing stinginess in your knees fully hitting now, when the shock is gone.

A few seconds pass, with your body lying limp on the ground– not even from the pain, just from the sheer embarrassment of the thought of facing Na Jaemin again after this– and a sound of your roommate trying to bite back her laughter fills your ears when you finally wake up and wiggle a little on the floor, trying to get up. At least the bag of chips stayed intact, you think– all of the effort was worth it in the end… or at least you hope.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” the now familiar voice of Na Jaemin fills your ears, and while he does sound a little concerned, laughter fills his voice when the touch of his hand lands on your elbow, trying to help you stand up from your fatal position.

“I’m perfectly fine, yeah,” you nod as you suppress back a scowl, the amused look that meets your eyes once you turn your head to face your visitor that took it upon himself to help you up making you feel all sorts of emotions– humiliation, however, is winning by a mile.

“Are you hurt?” he giggles out, and the question almost sounds mocking with how his face breaks out into a pained scowl, seemingly trying to hide the clear grin wanting to settle on his handsome face.

“No,” you shake your head vigorously, tears rimming your eyes from the mix of embarrassment and the sharp stinginess in your knees– you’re sure there’s gonna be a big, purple bruise forming on your legs by tomorrow morning. “I’m okay.”

In that very moment, Yizhuo finally breaks out into laughter– as if she was really waiting for you to stand up, in case you fell dead and she would then have to feel guilty for laughing at your falling corpse– and the absurdity of it all makes you join them, the caring man no longer trying to bite back his amusement either as he softly brushes his hand over your arm before he leans down and picks up the bottle of coke that rolled all the way to the corner of the room and the pack of Skittles that managed to fall from your strong grasp.

“Here you go,” he says, shaking his head at you when he sees you still holding the bag of chips to your chest. “Damn, you guarded those chips with your whole life, didn’t you?”

Nodding, you snicker. “I put my whole life on the line for these.”

Accompanied by their amused giggles, alongside with Yizhuo’s pained sigh as she wipes her cheeks from the stray tears you caused with your comedic fall, you take the snacks Jaemin’s offering you, thanking him for the help as you escape the room with a final bow to end your performance.

“I was glad to be your fun little commercial break, but I’ll get going now,” you say, “good luck with the project!”

And with that, you disappear back into your room, setting your mind to never ever show your face in front of Na Jaemin again.

While you thought your resolution of never ever wanting to see Na Jaemin again out of the embarrassment your first and second encounter cost you, it seems to be that it’s easier said than done when you end up in Liu Yangyang’s basement, the whole place smelling of weed and cheap alcohol, standing right opposite of the man that haunts you in your darkest nightmares only a few days after the initial meeting.

There is a reflex in you that makes you want to turn on your heel and hide, maybe even bury yourself alive as you recognise the raven-haired boy, his bright grin making your stomach twist uncontrollably as he comes up to you and Yizhuo, a red single cup in his hand and a leather jacket adorning his shoulders. Something inside of you is telling you to get ready for the worst possible outcome of this situation, and you don’t know why your fight or flight instinct is so alert today, but you presume that Na Jaemin just has that effect on people as your roommate hides behind you and tries to get out of her project partner’s sight.

“Hello, ladies!” the man greets you as soon as he reaches you two– with Yizhuo still tugging herself behind your figure. “Didn’t expect to see you two here!”

Smiling, although a little tight-lipped, you turn around to finally reveal your roommate– the only reason why you’re in this disgustingly-smelling basement in the first place. It’s not like you don’t have friends– you do, it’s just that most of them aren’t actually your friends. They are Yizhuo’s friends, who just happen to be your friends, because your roommate decided that because you two are best friends, she needs to drag you everywhere with her– her love language, it seems– and that’s how you always end up in the same social circles.

Her dragging you around to places also applies to her weird first meetings with guys. And while you agree with the fact that she needs to be careful around new people– men, especially– so she doesn’t get stolen for human trafficking, you’ve been to enough cringey first dates with her to know that you should start saying no to her more often. Maybe tonight was the day you should’ve started, you think– as she asked you if you wanted to go to a party with her, since Jung Sungchan invited her– and while you could argue that a party in Liu Yangyang’s basement isn’t the best place for a first date, or that there’s no use in you being there in the first place, since other people are present, you agreed; because frankly speaking, everything’s better than sitting home alone and watching Netflix. Besides, you promised Yizhuo you wouldn’t watch the new episodes of Blue lock without her, and if you were left unsupervised, you know you’d break that plea– so here you are. Even though at this very moment, you deeply wish you weren’t.

“Yeah, me neither,” you mumble as your roommate, seemingly embarrassed to be caught hanging out with Na Jaemin’s acquaintance, slowly comes up from behind you, scratching the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Yizhuo here has a date with someone, so I was forced to third-wheel,” you muse, earning yourself a slap to your shoulder from the subject of the sentence.

Jaemin’s eyes widen to twice of their original size– a shock very evident in his features– and you wish you didn’t see him so taken aback at the fact that your insanely beautiful roommate was getting invited to dates left and right, because something about it makes your stomach acid boil in a weird way. “A date with who?”

“Whom,” you mumble, nit-picky at the correct grammar.

“Huh?”

“With whom,” you repeat yourself, seeing as Jaemin shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles.

“Okay, literature major,” he rolls his eyes and averts his attention back to your roommate, the comment making you furrow your brows for two things– one, correct grammar has nothing to do with literature and two, how the fuck does he even know your major in the first place, “you have a date with whom? Because I hope it’s not Beomgyu. He lies about his age.”

Hearing a sigh escape your roommate’s lips, you watch the interaction with uttermost interest. “No,” she mumbles, “it’s Sungchan, actually.”

“You’re having a date… at a frat party?”

You chuckle at the comment. At least someone has common sense here.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” Yizhuo notes, seeing as Jaemin empathetically nods at her and smoothes a hand down her back before he nudges her in the direction of the tall boy. Watching her leave, you mentally pray for her to come back and never leave you alone at a party where Na Jaemin is present– because quite frankly, you are very much okay with looking awkward in front of anyone else; be it strangers or the acquaintances slash distant friends you’ve made along the way on these gatherings– but when it’s Na Jaemin, the idea of him seeing you aimlessly walk around and try to invite yourself to conversations with people you distantly know makes you want to crawl out of your own skin and set it on fire.

Sighing purposelessly, looking around to see if you recognise anyone that you could find a safe harbor in at least for a couple of hours before you look for Yizhuo again and drag her home, you notice the boy not leaving your side. Locking your eyes with him, you hear him clear his throat before speaking up again.

“It’s actually so good to see you here, because we were about to play beer pong and you’re just the person I need for my team,” he says, offering you his signature grin.

Finding the last bits of your sanity, you shake your head. “Oh, you don’t want to play beer pong with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m no good,” you admit, scratching the back of your neck, “I’m like, the least athletic person in this room. And I also can’t handle my liquor well.”

Jaemin only rolls his eyes in annoyance at your comments, gently shoving you towards the direction of a large ping-pong table in one of the corners of the spacious basement. The game is already prepared, a pair consisting of a tall, ripped man with an adorable eye-smile and a person that gets introduced to you as his best friend waiting for someone to join them.

“Come on, I bet you can outdrink me,” Jaemin jokes, basically forcing you to the game as he hosts a ping-pong ball into your hold, looking at you with expecting eyes.

This evening is the moment where you learn that Na Jaemin is a man of many talents; the first one you find is his irresistible puppy look that makes you comply with everything he says. You don’t know how people have it in them to say no to him, but when he’s ushering you to take the first shoot towards the cups on the other side of the table, you only nod and sigh in the image of what’s gonna be your hangover in the morning.

Leaning back a little, feeling like a true Lebron James about to take his winning score, you aim for the plastic cups and throw the little white ball into space. You haven’t even taken a drink yet, but the ball goes where it wants and not where you want it to go, the small object hitting the floor instead, making your companion shake his head at you and click his tongue.

“I told you I’m bad,” you defend yourself, throwing your hands into the air in a defensive position.

“All good with me,” Jaemin grins, “I’m like, the least competitive person in this room. So as long as neither of us end up throwing up in Liu Yangyang’s backyard, I’m okay with losing this game.”

Rolling your eyes at his nature, refusing to relax even after his roommate Jeno– the boy on the other side of the table– scores and hits two cups in a row, each one of you drinking one, the bitter taste of beer falling down your throat, you find the second of Na Jaemin’s many talents. It’s playing beer pong– and even though he almost never misses, your opponent’s side is much quicker with their game and you end up drinking most of the cups in an apology for being so shitty at the game.

“Come on! You can do it,” you hear Jaemin cheer for you from beside you, your glossy eyes scanning over his figure. You’ve drunk quite a lot now, your distance-assuming abilities thrown out of the window as you reach back to throw the last shoot, body getting out of balance and threatening to meet the ground in the laws of gravity.

Jaemin’s hands quickly shoot up to steady you, a hesitant hand reaching to your waist as he giggles in your ear, and suddenly, you wonder if it’s been this hot in the room the whole time, when your hand lets go and the ball falls carelessly to the middle of the table.

And when you take at least two shots with Jaemin and his roommate, the game long forgotten as you two lost, you find yourself in Liu Yangyang’s backyard, Na Jaemin’s talent of being an absolute gentleman shining through as he holds your hair back for you when you throw up into the bushes.

“Okay, so… you can’t outdrink me. Noted,” the man hums, a gentle pat to your back sending shivers down your spine.

And with that, you swear you’re never going to show your face in front of Na Jaemin ever again. For the third time, yes.

At least the third time’s the charm…?

The sun greets you in the morning with an aggressive shine to your eyes, reminding you of the actions of yesterday evening slash very late night. There’s only one reason why your blinds aren’t shut in the morning, since you hate waking up to the hot beams of sunlight in your eyes– they always make you sweat and don’t let you continue in your quiet somber– and the reason is that you must’ve been too drunk yesterday to remember to close them.

And sure enough, once you open your eyes with a grunt and tumble in your sheets, the memories of yesterday evening flood into your brain the same way water did to your room when your ex-roommate Yeri forgot to turn off the water in the bathtub in your Freshman year. You decided to not live with the girl since, and you also quite loved the idea of not having a bathtub in your new place with Yizhuo; at least it meant that the chance of your roommate forgetting to turn the faucet off and flooding the apartment was significantly lower– you could say this experience gave you some sort of PTSD.

When the sunlight gets too hot on your back that you can’t handle it anymore, you open the window to let some fresh air in and stumble into the kitchen, ready to drink a glass of water and forget about the last night’s party. You don’t usually drink that much– because god knows you don’t need a lot to get tipsy– but getting caught up in a drinking game was definitely your first, and while you found it quite fun at first, you would’ve never allowed yourself to play if it wasn’t for Na Jaemin, your roommate’s project partner, dragging you into this mess.

At least Yizhuo is a good drinker, for the most part. She gets drunk, but stays responsible. You don’t know how you’d get home safe if it wasn’t for the responsible girl by your side.

The sight that meets your eye in the kitchen is one you would not want to see after a night out. The sink is full of dirty dishes– because your small apartment doesn’t have a dishwasher– and when you open the cupboard for an empty glass to fill with water, you find it empty, all of them used and unwashed in the silver basin.

Heaving out a sigh, you shake your head in disappointment and get mentally prepared to do the dishes. Reminded by the fact that it was you who cooked dinner last night before heading out to the party, it was Yizhuo’s turn to wash up– you two agreed on this arrangement to make sure everyone puts a hand in when it comes to household chores. If one of you is cooking a shared meal, the other one cleans up. It was a good deal, you got used to it fairly quickly, but still, your roommate has her flaws, and sticking to the rules you two made up together is surely one of them.

“Yizhuo! It was your turn to wash the dishes last night!” you yell out, not really caring that she’s most likely still asleep, as you turn on the faucet and get to work. While it was your roommate’s turn to clean up, you’re also not willing to wait for her until she gets up from bed and decides it’s a good time to complete the task, because truth be told, you really need some coffee right now and you only have two mugs in the whole apartment– both of them sitting at the bottom of the sink, dirty with last night’s tea.

“I know we were in a rush to get to the party, but for god’s sake, if you had the audacity to be all up in my ear about how I’m taking too long to get ready, you could’ve used up that time to wash the fucking dishes, man!” you continue your small tangent, your slight anger issues getting the best out of you as you scrub the oily pan. “Now the food’s stuck on the plates and it won’t come off! I’ll quit cooking for you if you don’t clean up, I swear to god!”

Sighing a little, you turn the water on and finally get to washing off the dish soap, shaking your head a little in both disbelief and unpleasant emotions filling your insides. This is not how you imagined your day to go, and soon enough, your stomach is growling with the need of food– you two have slept in until lunchtime– and you still don’t have either the energy to cook something again, or the appliances to do so. Hearing footsteps fill the small room, not bothering to even look at the source of them, you decide to continue your little rant with the premise of your roommate finally listening to it now that she’s present in the room.

“Fancy seeing you here, dear Yizhuo,” you mutter under your nose, irony filling your voice, “good to finally see you in the kitchen, now that I’m done with the dishes,” you grunt, turning the water off and wiping your hands on the kitchen towel that’s been hanging off the counter.

“Man, living with you must really suck, Ning,” you hear a male voice joke, the familiarity of it making you jump in your place as you look at the source of it, a little bit panicked.

His face looks fresh and lively– not a sign of last night’s drinking in his features– and his hands are full with two bags of takeout that he swiftly sits on the table, his figure now awkwardly standing in the corner of the room. Yizhuo is leaning on one of the chairs, eyes a little empty and tired, as if she has just woken up from deep sleep, her hair a mess on the top of her head and her pajamas still on. God knows neither of you look ready for a visitor– a male one, on top of that– and yet, there is still one standing in your kitchen right now, voice sing-songy and body dressed in athleisure, as if he’s just came out of his morning gym session.

Which he probably has. He seems like the type.

“What are you doing here?” Yizhuo beats you to the question, your eyes jumping from her figure to your morning– well, lunch time– visitor.

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? We’re working on our project today, Yizhuo, that’s what I’m doing here,” the man complains with an offended pout, almost a scolding tone to his voice that makes you look at your roommate with shock in her eyes. She knew she’d be hungover today and still chose to work on the project? Is she truly out of her mind?

“I swear we didn’t have it scheduled for today, Jaemin-” she sighs as she straightens her back and looks at the male with irritation and a hint of exhaustion before he jumps in and shakes his head in disapproval.

“We did, I swear to god! You just forgot,” he shakes his head, satisfied when the girl is left speechless in the kitchen, his eyes drifting to you before he smiles and moves closer to the kitchen table, opening up the boxes of takeout and offering you a proud nod. “I knew you two would be tired today, so I brought some chinese with me! We can have lunch and then get right to working!”

The enthusiasm spreading off his features is almost contagious– you swear it would be, if it wasn’t for the fact that your head was severely aching and you still haven't had a single sip of water since you’ve woken up. Jaemin scrambles through your kitchen, totally uninvited, but also unstopped, until he finds some chopsticks and cutlery in one of the drawers and then puts them all in the middle of the dining table, acting as if he was at his own house, and not in a place he’s been to three times, including this one.

“Well? What are you waiting for? It’s gonna get cold,” he chirps as he sits at the table and dives in one of the boxes, humming in satisfaction as the food hits his tongue.

Staring at the male, still not quite believing your eyes, but no longer feeling as humiliated in front of him when you realize that you embarrassing yourself in front of him is your habit by now, you only opt to a sigh as you sit at the table and taste the chinese, the noodles falling down your throat finally providing some comfort to your upset stomach. Jaemin smiles at you– the kind of smile where his eyes crinkle up into small moon crescents– with his full cheeks on display when you meet his eye, seemingly satisfied with his mission.

“Fucking hell,” you hear your roommate mutter as she escapes the room, seemingly to put some more presentable clothes on. Jaemin pays it no attention as he brightens up a little, pointing one of his chopsticks your way after he swallows and speaks up again.

“And hey! Thanks to me, you don’t even have to do the dishes now!” he exclaims, his proud face on full display making you stop in your tracks when you go to tell him that’s not true, since you still have to wash the reusable chopsticks you’re both holding in your hands, afraid of bursting his bubble as you only fakely smile at the male, nodding.

“That’s… great, Jaemin. Really nice.”

Walking across the school building, you find your stomach growling once again, the relief only spreading more on your insides when you realize that the last class of the day just ended and you are headed to the cafeteria to grab some lunch. Noting that it’s Tuesday and your schedules match with your best-friend-and-roommate-in-one’s today, you swiftly walk towards the crowded space and get the lunch with your school ID card, the cafeteria lady looking at you with a wobbly side-smile you only recognise to be her customer service demeanor washing off after the long day. Thanking her and scanning the room with your eyes, you quickly find your roommate waving at you from the corner of the room, calling you over with the motion of her hand. You’re actually excited to see her, until you notice another figure sitting right next to her– the figure being none other than the intruder of your home peace for the last few weeks.

You’re seeing Na Jaemin quite a lot lately, you realize, and it’s not even your project partner to begin with. Not that you mind, of course; he’s a nice guy, a good-looking one as well, to say the least, but there’s just something about his constant close proximity to your roommate that makes your stomach drop whenever you see him in her presence. This feeling has been there for a while now, and if you recognised it in you, you never paid it much attention, but with him sticking to her like glue even outside of the premises of your apartment, it almost makes you turn on your heel and walk out of the cafeteria to eat your lunch alone– daring to even say it’s the better choice, for you think you could throw up any second at the image of their enthusiastic smiles. You can’t really put your finger on the feeling– you’re not really sure how to name it, or what to think of it. You just know that the strange annoyance bubbling inside of you whenever it comes is one of the most frustrating things you’ve ever dealt with your whole, entire life.

But it’s too late to walk out of the cafeteria now, and so you choose to put up a smile and walk over to the two, sitting at the vacant spot opposite of them and get to eating.

“Hello,” Jaemin greets you, voice cheerful– does he ever feel down? –when you sit down with your tray and smile at the two.

“Hi,” you nod, “what’s up?”

“We were just talking about this thing on Friday,” he jumps in, looking at you from above his finished plate, Yizhuo nodding along to his conversation. She keeps chewing on her lunch as the man continues his speech. “My friend Taeyong’s in a band and they have a gig at the Neo bar, you know, the one in the center of the city…”

You find yourself humming in interest, nodding along to the new information. You don’t think you’ve heard about Taeyong or his band before, but you only imagine it could be fun. “Are you going?” you ask, eyes jumping from your roommate to your new acquaintance slash friend, anticipating his response.

“Yeah,” he nods, averting his gaze from you for a moment, looking to his feet for a second as he clears his throat, “you should come too,” he adds when his eyes meet yours again, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Halting a little in your movement, you look at your roommate again. See, Yizhuo is just the perfect girl you’d invite to see your friend’s band. She’s outgoing, loud, the life of the party, and also has an amazing alcohol tolerance– perfect to match the boy in front of you. There’s no reason for Na Jaemin to be inviting you as well, and you presume it’s the way his personality naturally is– considerate and warm– that it doesn’t let him just leave you out of the conversation and let you stay home. He’d probably feel too bad if he didn’t invite you, that’s all.

But the more you stare at the two, noticing the familiar way Jaemin’s body leans into your roommate’s for support, the two of them growing quite close in the process of working on the project– she even trailed into his apartment a few times to work there instead, because you had exams to study for and she wanted to leave the apartment silent for you to focus better– and the more you feel the familiar feeling deep within your chest, bugging you with thoughts resonating through your brain that tell you that you’ll just be a burden if you go and that the two of them will have much more fun together if they’re alone anyways, since Jaemin is clearly interested in your roommate. The voice in your head doesn’t leave, and you get so caught up in listening to it that you zone out, only to be woken up from your state of autopilot with a soft nudge to your shin under the table.

“So? What do you say?” he asks again, raising his eyebrows at you in question, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Oh,” you let out, hesitant as you poke your fork into the slice of meat on your plate, “I’m good, thanks. I wouldn’t wanna… you know… intrude? Or something?” you say, nodding to yourself as you’re afraid to meet his eye, opting to stare into your meal instead.

“What are you talking about? Of course you won’t intrude, I’m the one who invited you,” he mutters under his nose, tone of voice close to a mother’s scolding, insistent on his words. “Come on, it will be fun!”

“Really, I-” you open your mouth to decline again, when the male sulks in his seat and turns to your roommate for help.

“Yizhuo, help me, would you?” he grunts. “Tell your roommate this is the best idea you’ve ever heard, maybe she’ll listen to you, since she clearly doesn’t trust me.”

Snickering at his offended pout, you roll your eyes in mock annoyance when your best friend finally speaks up for the first time since you sat at the table, now finished with her lunch and free to talk to you both. “I think it would be nice, Y/N,” she says casually, nodding, “besides, I bet the band guys will be hot. Maybe Jaem can hook us up with one of them, what do you say?” she says, looking at him with a teasing glint in her eye, dismissed by the male with a scoff and a wave of his hand.

“You wouldn’t want that,” he mumbles, “not saying they’re not hot, but they’re insufferable. And a little bit stupid.”

“You say that about your friends?” you grin, seeing as the male shrugs to himself.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “hanging out with them makes me feel better about myself.”

Giggling at the remark, you finish your food and stare at him with dumbfoundance in your eyes. “You’re unbelievable, Na Jaemin.”

“Mhm, whatever,” he hums, grinning, before he looks at the screen of his phone and his face scrunches up in horror. His figure stands up in hurry, slinging his backpack over his shoulder before he looks at the both of you, eyes drifting from your roommate to you in a sharp 0.2 second interval, pointing a finger at your sitting body. “I take it as I’ll see you there. I have a class in literally 5-” he says as he looks at his phone again, “no, 4 minutes, so I better get going. I’ll text the address to Yizhuo in case you two can’t find it, and don’t even think of not showing up, okay?”

Sighing in fake annoyance, you shake your head in disbelief as the man strides off, black hair flowing in the breeze as his figure jogs out of the crowded cafeteria.

You’re starting to think that Na Jaemin is actually the insufferable one. But as he made it clear that he might get mad at you if you don’t go, even though it might make the annoying voice in your head only scream at you louder if you see him and your roommate sway in the cigarette smoke, dancing together in the local bar, you take a mental note to check your journal and see if you have any plans on Friday, and if you do, to quickly cancel them.

The mental image you had of the concert in your head was mostly right. When you arrive at the local bar at 9 in the evening, the whole place is filled with cigarette smoke and the loud noise of guitars is making your ears ring a little when you try to listen to the lyrics. It’s not really your cup of tea, but the lead singer looks nice– you heard some girls in the front screaming his name; Yuta, if you weren’t wrong– and you find yourself dancing along to the beat of songs you’ve never even heard before.

Everything’s just like you imagined– smiley, flushed faces in the crowd, sweaty bodies pressed against each other in the small space that the bar provides, everything just perfect to scare a person with claustrophobic tendencies. Everything except from the small voice in your head telling you that you’ll be the third wheel tonight was right, and you find yourself thanking whatever inner motives that lead you to agree with Na Jaemin’s invitation, because when the small break the band had ends and you down the beer he bought for you and Yizhuo, the male is, to your surprise, tugging you to the dance floor. This is not really second female lead of you, you think as you sway under the neon lights of the bar; and you can’t say you hate it.

“Please tell your roommate to not get on with the boy she’s currently dancing with when you two get home,” Jaemin mutters into your ear through the music, and suddenly, the illusion’s over. Of course his eyes would be on your breathtaking, wonderful roommate– there was no way you’d have his full attention while he dances with you, no matter how much effort you put into your appearance tonight. You don’t know what it is that makes you finally admit to yourself that you’re endlessly yearning for male attention and validation– especially Na Jaemin’s, the casual heartthrob’s– but you’re willing to say it’s the effect of alcohol as you furrow your brows at him and lean closer to his face to hear him better as you two talk over the loud set.

“Why?”

“He’s insanely stupid,” he says, snickering, “and I also think he’d love to move into your apartment the first chance he gets. I’m pretty sure his roommate kicked him out last month because he wasn’t paying rent.”

“Well, aren’t you at our apartment all the time as well?” you squint at him, seeing as the male rolls his eyes at you in mock annoyance, the teasing getting to him.

“That’s because I have to,” he insists, grinning under the blue light shading his features, the hue making him look like he was cut out of a teenage movie.

Shaking your head in disbelief at the gossip, you find yourself yelling over the music again. “How do you even know all of that?” you ask, desperate to know the source of all information there is about the men on your campus.

“His roommate told me himself,” Jaemin says, “I used to play soccer with him in high school.”

“You have too many contacts,” you mutter, seeing as the male shrugs at you, taking your hand in his as he twirls you in your place, the music blending into a slower rhythm, the melody more solemn and relaxed.

“What can I say,” he grins, “I’m irresistible. Everyone wants to be my friend.”

Not even having a chance to reply a snarky comment back to him, the male suddenly brings you closer to him, taking all air out of your lungs. His strong arms are now pressed around your middle, causing you to almost automatically sneak your arms around his neck– you truly don’t know what brought you to these actions, you think it’s you working on auto-pilot after doing competitive dancing for 5 years when you were little that makes you get into position almost immediately in fear of your instructor screaming at you– and the neon lights now start slowly flashing through various colors, reminding you of disco balls you have at middle school formals. The lead singer sings a romantic song, his raspy, yet unique voice cutting through the speakers right into your poor, fragile heart, and Jaemin steps with you into a loose dance, just two bodies swinging to the music, catching their breath after jumping around to the rhythmic beats for so long.

In a moment full of embarrassing self-indulgence, you look at the boy with long eyelashes staring down at you, and you wonder if he finds joy in your company. He is that type of guy you’d naturally gravitate towards– charming and nonchalant, extremely charismatic– but you, you are the exact opposite of those qualities. Socially awkward and embarrassing with your antics, thinking too much of words to say before you speak to someone, tense shoulders giving you in as you look nervous with every new person you meet. You’re not the type of person Na Jaemin would voluntarily want to hang out with– your roommate is the one he should be dancing with right now, swaying to the slow beat.

And maybe he would be, if that other guy wasn’t faster than him at earning her attention.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, leaning in closer to your ear, because even though the song is slower, it’s still as loud as the previous ones. Shivers run down your spine when his breath fans your heated skin, and you find yourself nodding in response.

“It’s fun,” you mumble, seeing him grin.

“See? Told you,” he sighs, “and you didn’t want to go!”

“I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, that’s all,” you say, smiling at his warm eyes. The thing about Na Jaemin is that he looks at everyone with eyes reminding you of pools of warm honey– with such a welcoming gaze it makes your knees buckle from the sweetness. He looks at everyone with such care it makes them think they perhaps mean the whole entire world to him, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to think something more of the situation when his eyes meet yours and your eye contact is a battle of symphony. Because he looks at everyone like that. He looks at Yizhuo like that, that’s for sure.

The man gently leads you into another turn, an amused giggle escaping his lips when you clumsily get back to his arms. You open your mouth to talk back to him, but before you manage to find words worthy of a good jab, the tempo of the song gets faster again and the drums once again ring loudly in your ears, the last tune of the set bringing an enthusiastic, energetic atmosphere into the small bar.

The rest of the evening comes by like a blur– you remember Jaemin ordering you a few more beers and introducing you to the band, the lead singer flashing you a grin you can’t quite decipher in your drunken haze. Your roommate hangs from the shoulder of the man Na Jaemin warned you about, and you find yourself despising the male even though you’ve never spoken to him– something inside of you trusts Jaemin’s judgment of men, it seems (he is one of them, after all. He knows what he’s talking about).

You almost get mad at yourself for letting yourself drink too much again. It’s like once you start, you don’t know when to stop, and after all, who are you to say no when you’re not even the one paying for all the shots of alcohol? That wouldn’t be very smart of you, as a broke college student. You have to take everything that’s free, no matter how harmful to your health it might be.

Well, except from drugs. You wouldn’t take free crack cocaine even if you were offered.

But when you drink, you find Jaemin’s attention more on you– his caring eyes watching your steps when you walk, making sure you don’t trip over your feet and fall. His arms put his jacket around your shoulders when you stand outside of the club with the band, the raven haired lead singer offering you a cigarette your companion denies for you before you even have a chance to open your mouth, and his smiley face beams at you when he holds your face in his palms and asks you if you want to go home. And you can’t lie, you’re enjoying all the attention– even though it might be coming solely from the fact that he has to look after you like you’re a baby, because you pretty much turn into one when you’ve had something to drink, but still, you can’t find it in yourself to compose yourself and tune down the drinks.

You’ll worry about the guilt when you wake up in the morning. Now is not the time.

You nod to his question, though, because you must admit that you’re getting a little sleepy in your night adventures. Following him like a lost puppy, you watch him as he gathers your roommate from the bar, the three of you now walking down the street towards your block, Jaemin taking the side of the sidewalk that’s closer to the road, his careful eyes watching over your every step making you even more surprised by the fact that he doesn’t have an older sister in his family that would shape him into such a gentleman.

“Everyone, did you have fun tonight?” he asks like a kindergarten teacher somewhere towards the end of the seemingly never ending walk home.

“Yes!” you chant along with Yizhuo, giggles erupting along the neighborhood.

“And what did we learn tonight?” he asks again, making your roommate frown at the question.

“That soccer guys suck!”

“That I can’t handle my alcohol!”

You both chime at the same time, making your companion nod, satisfied by both of your answers. Something about his sweet, scolding, yet patient tone makes your cheeks hurt from smiling when you two open up the front door to your apartment, your brain focused on listening to his small pep talk. “I hope you two take this as a learning experience and never make the same mistakes again! Alcohol is bad for your liver and broke soccer guys are bad for your wallet, but don’t you worry, I’m always here to remind you of such things when you forget.”

“Yes, Mr Na– oh no the lift’s broken again!” Yizhuo whines when she walks up to the elevator, scowling at the button that doesn’t light up when she presses it, the platform stuck somewhere between the second and the third floor. Normally, you wouldn’t mind such inconvenience– you don’t go to the gym often and every time you carry your groceries upstairs, you think of it as a little workout, trying to train your brain into thinking how good your ass would look only if you took the stairs every day, but failing as you go for the lift every time it works– but tonight, drunk, dizzy and a little tired, you’re glad you don’t break into loud cries at the newly found information.

“No!” you yell out, almost falling to your knees when your roommate presses a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet– although tipsy, Yizhuo still shows much care about your neighbors, it seems. Crouching in front of the unresponding device, you shake your head in disapproval at the whole situation, suddenly feeling like the whole world is against you just because you’re drunk and have to walk up to the seventh floor.

“Come on, ladies,” Jaemin says, patiently waiting at the first step of many.

“Oh, I’m not going,” you shake your head, a pout sitting on your lips as you rest your head on the wall, “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“Y/N, stop being ridiculous,” the man sighs, walking closer to you, but seeing as you don’t budge, he only crouches down to your level and pokes your cheek with his pointer finger, seemingly regretting inviting you to the bar tonight, “want to get on my back, then? I’ll carry you upstairs,” he asks, gentle parenting you in the process of getting you home.

And see, if you were sober and completely in tune with your emotions and thought process, you’d say no and just walk up the stairs by yourself. But that’s not your situation right now, when you’re drunk and kind of falling for your roommate’s project partner, and so you only nod at him with bright eyes and securely jump to his back, nuzzling your face into the crook of his shoulder as he walks up the stairs to the sixth floor with both of you, patient with your drunken stubbornness.

“See, girls, sometimes things don’t go as you plan. But in those situations, you have to make a new solution and try to come up with something that is going to work. Life’s a bitch and there will be many things in your way, but you always gotta find a way around your obstacles,” he mumbles somewhere between the third and the fourth floor, “the bus is late? You run to the class. You get a stain on your shirt? You tell everyone it’s supposed to be there and that it’s a fashion statement. Your friend doesn’t wanna go out with you? You bribe her with sexy band guys.”

“And sometimes,” he says again, his tone of voice slowly lulling you to sleep, “the route you have to take might be harder than the one that failed. But that’s okay, because the end goal will be worth the trouble. The lift broke? Take the stairs, because at the end, there is a warm bed waiting for you in your apartment.”

You’re not sure where all of this wisdom is coming from, or how the hell his words are still coherent after so much physical exercise and also the amount of beers he had with his friends at the bar. You’re also not sure why he’s waffling so much– you bet it’s to pass time until he walks up to the seventh floor with your body on his back,

but you bet there’s a life lesson hidden somewhere in there.

The ringing of a doorbell is an unusual sound to your ears. You never have anyone use it, because frankly, you don’t even have that many friends in the first place, and the ones that do exist and come to hang out with you in your apartment always text you that they’re in front of the door instead, like everyone in the 21st century does nowadays. You don’t recognise this as the more practical method, but it’s the one that they all use, so you’ve gotten used to the fact over the time. The only people that use the doorbell are your landlord– because he loves to come check up on your apartment from time to time and then passively aggressively mention how there's a mess in your living room– and then Yizhuo’s friend Mark Lee that she met at the bistro she works at. They started hanging out and he’s the only one that actually picks her up at the door– as opposed to all of her other guy friends and dates that wait for her in the car. You think it’s sweet; the boy always wears a shy blush on his cheeks and nervously scratches his neck when you open the front door instead of your roommate and scream at Yizhuo that her date is here– to which she tells you that they’re not dating every single time, but you actually think you’re rooting for the adorable canadian, because after the men she chose to date before, you think she’s finally getting some sense into her head.

And so when the doorbell rings again, you get mentally prepared for either of those two outcomes. You don’t think it’s gonna be Mark Lee, because he always texts Yizhuo before hanging out with her and your temperamental roommate isn’t home yet– so the only reasonable option is your landlord Jinyoung, which makes shivers run down your spine as you pick up the mess scattered all around the floor in the entry hall and throw the stuff into the big closet at the right side of the wall, making sure it’s out of his sight.

Taking a deep breath in to collect yourself before the terror starts, you open the front door and put on your best fake smile, ready to face the wrinkled face of a middle aged man in a weird tracksuit– but to your surprise, there is one more person that can still use the ringbell on the door, and it’s none other than Na Jaemin.

“Hi!” he smiles, a wide grin sitting at his face. He’s once again in his usual attire that consists of Adidas sweatpants and a mint green hoodie, the clothing acting like his default skin in the game of life, and you can’t help but let out a satisfied sigh at the fact that it’s not your landlord that you have to talk to today; although speaking to Na Jaemin after the last time you met him isn’t much easier than sparking up a conversation about the state of your rented place.

“Hello,” you drag out, humming to yourself as you press your lips into a thin line, “Yizhuo’s not here yet,” you say, trying your hardest to not meet his warm eyes.

“Oh, I know! She texted me she’ll be late, but I was already on my way, so I figured I’ll just wait for her here,” he explains, naturally walking into your apartment as if he owned the place. And you don’t stop him– because frankly enough, you don’t have it in you to do anything else. And what would you even do? Let him stand outside?

And so, even though you weren’t prepared for a visitor today– because Yizhuo still hasn’t learned how to tell you that she’ll have people over– you walk along with him to the living room and see him invite himself to sit on the couch, body sprawled out all across the soft cushions. He seems like he lives here and not you– with how awkwardly you situate yourself on the other side of the sofa (he took your side– the one you picked the first day you moved in. Neither you nor Yizhuo ever sat on the other side ever since, it was an unwritten rule) and watch as he turns on the TV and scrolls through the channels. If this was anyone else, you’d find it inappropriate, rude even, but come on… it’s Na Jaemin we’re talking about. If he walks inside of your apartment and acts like he owns the place, who are you to tell him he doesn’t?

“You must really enjoy working on the project, if you’re around so often,” you mumble out, burdened by the fact that the silence between the two of you is slowly suffocating you out of the awkwardness of it all. One would say you wouldn’t know what awkwardness and shame is after embarrassing yourself in front of the man so much, but it’s quite the opposite, actually– as if the weight of it all was just packing on to each other, creating a big, heavy mess sitting on your shoulders, not letting you breathe.

“Oh, not really,” he says, turning his whole body and attention to you, eyes perking up at the sound of your voice, “I actually find it quite boring, if I’m being honest.”

Humming in response, you suddenly start to find the whole thing a little weird. Because if Jaemin doesn’t enjoy the project– and Yizhuo absolutely despises it too, or at least she told you she did– who in them has that much enthusiasm to meet up after school so often to work on it? If you were in their place, you’d just do it all in the span of a week. Projects you don’t like get lost somewhere in the back of your brain and you only remember them a few days before the due date, quickly scattering something and putting it on paper just so you don’t fail. Jaemin and Yizhuo, however, have worked on the project multiple times a week for the last two months, which is contradicting to the nature of your roommate in particular, because you know just how much she enjoys the art of procrastination as well.

“You must be really responsible, then,” you say, thinking this is the only possible solution– Na Jaemin doesn’t like the project, but he also doesn’t want to get a bad grade in it. That’s why he’s over at your flat multiple times a month, giggling with your roommate in the living room and working on the Neurophysiology essay that requires thorough research. That’s it– it must be.

“Well, I dunno about that,” Jaemin snickers, “this is my second time taking the class, actually. I failed it last year,” he grins, leaving you to stare at him with an opened mouth out of shock, the thoughts in your brain sprinting around like an itch you can’t really get to, making you shake your head in disbelief. This doesn’t sound like the words of someone who strives to get good grades in a subject– because if you had to retake a class, you’d be glad to just pass. Getting a good grade and putting in a lot of effort would be the last of your interests, especially after failing once– you’d have so much resentment for the subject you’d actually do the bare minimum, just to spite no one in particular but yourself.

You hum at that, at a loss for words.

“Do you not like having me around?” Jaemin asks, suddenly, catching you off guard. Looking up at him, sharply turning your head, your wide eyes must have betrayed you, since your companion lets out an amused laugh.

“That’s not it,” you try to save your skin, sighing, “I’m just wondering, that’s all.”

“So you don’t like having me around.”

“That’s not what I said!” you mourn out, suddenly scared of somehow offending the boy sitting in your living room. Being completely alone with him has been an emotional tsunami so far, having you praying and manifesting for your roommate to come back soon so you don’t have to deal with the pressure anymore. One moment, he has you all curious and guessing, the other one, he has you aimlessly trying to maintain an image you already lost the first second he saw you only dressed in a thin shirt with your wet hair staining the fabric, walking out the shower the first day he met you.

“Okay, so you’re saying you do like having me around?” he grins, the teasing glint in his smile driving you crazy, the weird turmoil on your insides almost making you stand up from your place on the sofa and running up against the wall. You bet that would bring you less pain and discomfort than having a conversation with him.

“Na Jaemin, you make me want to kill myself,” you mourn, draging your hands across your face in despair. Who would’ve thought that speaking to him all alone in your apartment could’ve been so much trouble? This is not at all how it went the night of the concert, but you’re willing to say that it was the effect of alcohol that made you get through the night. You can’t drink right now, in broad daylight, though– because that would legally make you an alcoholic.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I wouldn’t be hanging around at your apartment so much if I didn’t like being around a certain someone that lives here either,” he says, matter-of-factly, as if the information didn’t just take all breath out of your lungs at the suggestion of something you pray your brain isn’t just misinterpreting in this very moment. Opening your mouth and closing it in a second, looking like a fish that’s been thrown out of the ocean and flapping around in the sand, you gape at the boy and furrow your brows, creating an ugly crease on your forehead that Yizhuo screamed at you about (she told you to stop making that face so often, because ‘it’s gonna ruin your skin and you’re gonna look old’. Like you can help it…).

“What do you even mean by tha–” you start, desperate for more explanation, when the door opens with a loud bang and your dear roommate finally marches up to the apartment with bangs sticking to her oily forehead and a frustrated frown on her face– choosing just the right moment to finally arrive, as if you haven’t been praying for this very moment for the last few minutes.

“I’m never going back to that fucking bistro ever again. Can you believe it? Lee Jeno decided to take a day off and tell everyone twenty minutes before the end of my shift, so I had to work for two more hours before somebody could come to cover him. Who even does that? Is everything okay in his brain?” she screams, throwing her bag to the floor as she walks up into the living room, finding you two there. “Why am I even asking? Fuck, of course he’s not mentally okay. And then a rush hour began and I had to serve the rudest customer I’ve ever encountered, and don’t even let me started on that fucking grandpa that complained about the fries being cold when I just got them out of the frier!”

Watching her little tantrum, you can’t help but giggle at your roommate. It’s an usual sight to you ever since she started working at the bistro, but Jaemin seems to be surprised at her temperamental outburst as he laughs at her like a maniac, watching her with mouth wide open and eyes twice their usual size, almost bursting out of their sockets.

“Don’t even try to start something today, Na Jaemin, or I’ll literally take a kitchen knife and slice your throat in half. Let’s get to this shit so I can shower,” Yizhuo says as she falls to the sofa with a loud thud, not even greeting neither of you before she kicks her hoodie off her body with an annoyed squeak.

You take this as your cue to leave– because if there is anyone else in the apartment that could be the person she can take it out on, you’re not willingly going to sit there and take her attention from them, sparing yourself for tonight.

Jaemin’s words resonate in your brain as you stumble into your room. There’s a certain someone he enjoys being around in this apartment, and when you look over your shoulder and see him with Yizhuo’s sweaty hoodie hanging off his head– you don’t dare to ask how it got there or why it was there in the first place, hearing his hearty laugh– you feel a ping close to your heart.

You don’t think you need an answer to the question anymore. How foolish of you to think it could be you.

When you went to college, you didn’t think you’d become the epitome of an average college student you see in movies and read about in Choi Minho fanfiction. Somewhere along the way, while keeping your assignments to the last possible day, living with a roommate that both gets on your nerves and makes you think you wouldn’t be able to survive without her by your side and going to more parties in a single semester than your whole entire life, you find yourself fitting all the criteria as you hang around your bedroom and get ready for what seems to be the biggest party you’ve ever set your foot in.

Your roommate is long gone now, and while you’d be frustrated by the fact that you were supposed to get to the party on your own, you don’t find yourself filled with rage when you remind yourself of the fact that this party is hosted by her cousin, Zhong Chenle, who took it upon himself to host the biggest birthday party of the century for his childhood best friend Park Jisung. Yizhuo was dragged to the big mansion to help with all the preparations, and while you sat around in class the whole morning, she spent the time with spamming you pictures of the place, coming from half-decorated to a fully, over-the-top, red solo cup crammed and loud music bearing building. The party starts at 8 and you’re set to leave in a bit, but there’s one issue that’s keeping you from hopping into the uber you’ve called for yourself– your dear roommate still hasn’t texted you the address, and with how fast the time is going and how she hasn’t replied to any of your messages since 6:25, you don’t think you’re getting a response any time soon.

And speaking honestly, you’ve made a list of rules for yourself. And you also set yourself to making sure you don’t break any of them.

Rule number one was to not get home later than 2 in the morning. Every time you do, you hate yourself for it the next morning. Rule number two closely ties with the first one, stating that you’re not allowed to get hammered. With the amount of partying you’ve been getting yourself into, you think it’s better to save your liver before it’s too late. And rule number three– however embarrassing it must sound– is that you’re not allowed to embarrass yourself in front of Na Jaemin again. Not after he had to see you half naked, collect your broken body from the ground and carry you upstairs on his back.

With how your evening’s going and you’re not not getting replies from the main organizator of the party herself, you don’t think you need the rule list at all, since it seems that you won’t even get to the party itself in the first place.

After many minutes of aimlessly scrolling through social media, dressed in the outfit you picked out yesterday, you are brought out of your dissociative episode with a ring on the doorbell. Cursing under your breath at the unwanted visitor, you open the door without much thought, the adrenaline in your veins caused by the fact that you might miss the party of the century making you not contemplate on the motion too much before you’re standing in front of Na Jaemin, unprepared and shocked to your core.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you ask, the words rolling off your tongue without much thought.

“Good to see you too!” he chants, words dipped in irony, furrowing his brows in confusion before smiling in hesitance. “Yizhuo sent me to get you to the party.”

Blinking at him a few times, the situation downing on you, a shake of your head is performed to clear your mind. “She did what?”

“Yeah, it got a bit hectic over there and she didn’t have time to text you the address, so she told me to just come pick you up. Don’t worry, I haven’t drunk yet,” he says, the explanation making you huff out at the irresponsible nature of your roommate– because truly, how much time can a simple text take– before you put on your shoes and take the bag prepared on the ground close to the door, following the man out of the building and into his car.

Sliding into the silver Toyota Auris, only a few minutes pass before you’re strangled with the reality of being alone with Na Jaemin again, and even though this is not the first time, it still gives you just the slightest kick of adrenaline. Keeping up with conversation is harder for you than you would’ve imagined, and suddenly you’re regretting the fact that you don’t have at least a tiny bit of alcohol in you to kick some courage into your skull, but as the low melody of the radio hits your ears and your driver starts to singing along with the lyrics, using a silly voice that makes you crack up, you realize that maybe, after embarrassing yourself in front of him so much, you don’t even have to feel tense anymore. Because realistically, it can’t get much worse than this.

“You look really nice, by the way,” Jaemin smiles, making your heart run miles around your ribcage. Admittedly, you did spend a few hours picking out the perfect outfit in hopes of being recognized by someone– maybe even Jaemin himself, okay, you’ll admit that as well– but the accomplishment of actually hearing him compliment you still surprises you with great measures.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat, “you- you do too.”

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbles, sighing dramatically, “I actually had to buy some new clothes, because Jeno said I can’t attend this super fancy party in a tracksuit, but you know how it goes, shit’s expensive nowadays, and this was the only thing on sale, so I grabbed it,” he explains, going on a tangent, this mannerism of his making you break into a smile, “and I can’t lie, I think I kinda rock the style and I was hoping for a compliment of two from the ladies tonight, so I’m glad to hear this from yours truly first.”

Chuckling at his rambling, you shake your head in disbelief. “I think you’d look good in anything, Na Jaemin,” you tsk, “you have that kind of face that everyone likes.”

“Oh really?” he asks, the tone of his voice teasing. “So that means you like my face?”

“I’m not everyone, you know,” you bite back despite feeling heat rising to your cheeks, wanting to take back all the words that have come out of your mouth in the span of the last few seconds.

“Now that’s hurting my feelings.”

“You care about my opinion that much?”

“Of course,” he grunts, looking at you for a split second before he parks the car in front of a big house, already popping with people to its seams, loud music overbearing the beat of the music playing in the car. The ride wasn’t even that long– you live 15 minutes away from the wealthy neighborhood, it seems– but it's still good that you got a ride, because you don’t know how long you’re gonna last in those heels you’re wearing. “I can’t trust Yizhuo when it comes to these things. I’m convinced she hates me a little.”

“Why would she hate you?” you ask, amused.

“She always looks annoyed whenever I open my mouth,” he snickers.

“She’s like that with everyone,” you mutter, even though you remember your roommate complaining about the amount of words that Jaemin can spit in a minute just about yesterday, “it’s just her resting bitch face.”

The engine turns off and you turn around in the passenger seat to gather your bag from the back seat, where you carelessly threw it in the rush of getting to the party as soon as possible. Quickly looking through its contains– because your anxiety tells you to, just in case you somehow magically decided to leave your wallet and your keys back home, despite checking and making sure they’re there at least 8 times already– you turn back towards the front, ready to get out of the vehicle when you’re met with the sight of Na Jaemin opening the door for you like a gentleman, waiting for you to walk down the imaginary red carpet, completely ignoring the nature of the party going on just a few meters away from you.

Bashfully escaping his car and thanking him on your way, you watch him lock the car and catch up with you on the sidewalk, leading the both of you to the expensive-looking building.

The song accompanying your arrival is now Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom!! by Vengaboys, and although you can’t deny the lyrics may be a little bit relatable to your current state right now, you can’t say the whole scene doesn’t look like a circus in your eyes. It’s Park Jisung’s birthday party, though, so you can’t say it doesn’t have to be a bit comedic, at least– the boy is quite known around these parts of the town. The whole place is filled with people you hardly know, and with the amount of teenagers and college students roaming around, you’re reminded a little of the fair– the only thing missing is a bouncy castle, in which you could clearly imagine Zhong Chenle with his best friend, hollering like the kids they still are, no matter how hard they’re trying to deny it.

Upon walking through the front door, you are met with the realization that Na Jaemin was abducted by a tall man with a puppy-like smile and another one, a little shorter one with brown, longer hair and a leather jacket adorning his figure. His face is screaming in despair, and although you find the expression funny, you let him be with his roommate and who seems to be his friend (you swear you saw the other guy in Yangyang’s basement, rolling a blunt with the boy somewhere in the middle of the night), deciding on finding your dear roommate so you can scream at her for being so irresponsible with your arrival to the party of the century. It takes you no longer than 15 minutes before you’re met with her strawberry blonde locks tied up in her signature bun, low-waisted jeans and a white crop-top adorning her figure that’s currently turned to you with her back, and before you can stop yourself, you approach her from behind, intending to scare her out of spite and also humor.

Shaking her by her shoulders, the girl turns to you with a sudden yelp before she bursts into laughter at seeing your face. “I thought you were that fucker Johnny! I almost threw this drink into your face, you know?”

“Oh, you’d regret that very soon if you did that,” you threaten, pointing a warning finger towards her face.

“Trust me, I know,” she giggles, shaking her head, “anyways, you got here!”

“Yeah, Jaemin picked me up,” you say, showing her a tight-lipped smile.

“He… he did?” the girl asks, furrowing her eyebrows at you, confusion very clearly written on her face.

“You told him to…?”

“No, I didn’t,” she shakes her head, snickering to herself. “I just told him to text you the address, because I was busy pouring all the drinks in the kitchen and making the speakers in the living room work…” she explains, the more words come out of her mouth, the more she breaks into a sly grin, the expression making you sigh in terror, knowing the amount of teasing that will come next.

“Why are you grinning like that? Stop it.”

“Na Jaemin likes youuuu,” she sing-songs, pointing a finger towards your forehead and digging into your skin with the sharp edge of her stiletto nail. Wincing away from her touch, you shake your head at her with a huff of frustration, wondering if she’s had enough to drink for it to cause all of this.

“He doesn’t, and we both know it.”

“Yeah, that’s why he picked you up,” she nods, before she takes a deep breath in, preparing herself for the long sentence that’s about to come out of her mouth, “and that’s why he insists on hanging out strictly over at our apartment, why he carried you up the stairs on his motherfucking back, why he bribed me just to get you to go to the concert with him, and why he won’t shut up about you literally every second the two of us are alone–”

“You know the same thing could suggest that he likes you?” you huff, roaming your hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe the weird bundle of nerves growing in your stomach. “He hangs out with you all the time, not me, you know…”

“That’s ‘cause you keep hiding in your room like a raccoon, you know.”

“That’s not true at all–”

“Okay, whatever you say. He’s coming towards us right now– so don’t look around or you’ll be too obvious– and I bet 100 pounds that he’s gonna drag you away from me and suggest you two play beer pong again, or whatever.”

“Yizhuo, I need you to shut the fuck–”

But before you’re able to finish your sentence, you feel a hand land on your shoulder, your whole figure spinning towards the source of the contact, finding a grinning Na Jaemin in your rear point of view– how unexpected, really– his body seemingly full of adrenaline as he jumps in his place, looking like a squirrel high on caffeine, his next sentence making your brain short-circuit as you hear Yizhuo snicker in your right ear, a bump on your shoulder and a shove into the male’s figure encouraging you in your movements out the room.

“Normally, I’d drag you to play beer pong with me again, but if I come back to the events that occurred the last time you got drunk, I have a suggestion that’s more considerate to your liver– wanna sing karaoke with me? You’re not allowed to say no, by the way,” and before you’re able to register what’s going on in this very moment, the conversation you two had with Yizhuo keeps repeating over and over in your brain the whole time you’re by Jaemin’s side.

Curse Ning Yizhuo for making you think he could like you at least a little– because even though he sang a corny love song with you at the karaoke machine and introduced you to his friends, along with taking you off your feet in an enthusiastic hug when you two won against his roommate and his best friend at a make-shift karaoke battle (you two got a 98 point score, just saying…), there’s a simple man called insecurity sitting soundly in the corner of your brain not letting you contemplate the fact and take it seriously, no matter how hard you try.

jaem [10:21]: hi how are you feeling!!! jaem [10:21]: was wondering if u wanted to get lunch :p jaem [10:21]:not that im assuming u have a hangover bc u hardly drank yesterday but yknow would be nice idk jaem [10:22]: theres this new pancake place in town :OO

“You don’t look as bad as I expected!” Jaemin greets you as you two walk inside of the new bistro that opened not a long time ago– you only knew about it because Yizhuo hoped and prayed that the fact that there’s a new place in town will mean that less customers were going to show up at the one she’s working at, and you can’t say you don’t hate that logic. After hearing her stories about rude customers, you believe your roommate deserves a break. Working with people is hard– and as she said, you only realize just how stupid some of them can be when you truly start working in customer service.

“Ouch!” you utter out, your ego suddenly falling at the backhanded compliment.

“Not that you look bad, like, ever, I just– you usually look way worse after a party, you know,” he explains while opening the door for you and leading you towards one of the booths, the red sofas making the whole place look like a retro motorest you’d find somewhere on your way through the middle of nowhere. The polka dot walls only beg you to order a milkshake with your pancakes, and you do exactly that, feeling unapologetic in your actions. It’s not your fault– and you guess that you deserve to treat yourself to a nice chocolate swirl once in a while.

“I didn’t drink as much last night, you know,” you snicker, remembering the fact that you actually pretty much managed to stick to your rules the whole time you were enjoying yourself at Park Jisung’s birthday party.

“Should’ve dragged you to one more game of beer pong, then.”

“So you do want me to suffer, huh?” you roll your eyes at him, resting your back at the flashy red booth to get a better look at his shifting expressions.

“It’s fun to see you embarrassed when you recollect your memory, that’s all,” he admits, kicking your leg under the table in a teasing manner.

Snickering at his comment, you hide your face in your hands at the growing embarrassment. Taking a deep breath in to hide your hesitance, you look outside your window for a short moment before you turn back to him, continuing on with the conversation before the moment gets too awkward for you to bear. “Yizhuo’s still asleep, by the way. She drank too much because Chenle got a bet with her and she was sure she could outdrink him and then the Mark guy had to carry her limp body to our house last night,” you explain, “she’s the one with a massive hangover right now, that’s why she’s not joining.”

“I see you two like princess treatment,” Jaemin teases, referring to the time he had to collect you and bring you home on his back, “besides, I invited you, not her. If she was here, she wouldn’t stop complaining about her headache, and I really don’t need that energy in my life right now.”

Laughing, you move your hands away from the table as a server brings you two your plates, filled to the brim with pancakes smothered in syrup and chocolate topping. A shiny cherry is adorning the serving, and you can already feel yourself salivating at the sight, the sweet smell filling your senses as you dig in, feeling hypnotized by the food in front of you. You are a sweets lover, and while you don’t know how Jaemin managed to do that, he hit the right spot with making you join him for a sweet lunch– making you adore the man even more, if that was even possible.

“Does it taste good?” Jaemin asks, watching as you nod to him with your mouth filled– as if the sight wasn’t enough of a confirmation to him– a hum of satisfaction slipping out of your vocal cords.

“It’s so good,” you mumble when you swallow, wiping your mouth with the napkin you found at the corner of the table. “Just what I needed right now.”

Jaemin finally digs into his own plate, a bright smile sitting at his face, and as you eat, you find yourself glancing his way from time to time. After all this time, you’re finally starting to realize just how relaxed you’re truly feeling right in this moment, despite having oily hair that’s tugged out of your way with a headband and only wearing your casual clothes, being too lazy to change your sweatpants for jeans and your hoodie for a fancier top. Jaemin just has something about him that once kept you on your toes, nerves tingling all in your insides, the same thing now making you calm and appreciative of his presence. Who would’ve thought that it would only take you two hanging out together the whole time of Park Jisung’s birthday party to finally feel relaxed and natural around each other?

Watching him as he takes a sip of his milkshake, you get surprised at his disgusted face. “What’s up?”

“I forgot I hate strawberries,” he notes, scratching the back of his neck as he battles the face of discomfort spreading over his features.

“And you ordered a strawberry milkshake… because you hate strawberries?” you snicker, laughing at his face.

“Well, I ordered it for the aesthetic, I suppose, but the fact that it’s actually gonna taste like strawberries kind of… escaped my brain for a sec,” he explains, making you shake your head in disbelief at him, offering the boy your own milkshake that you have yet to take a sip of.

“Want mine? It’s a banana one. I don’t mind strawberries,” you say, smiling at him encouragingly when he hesitantly eyes the tall glass.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” you say, nudging the milkshake towards him, seeing as he exchanges the straws and sets the pink drink in front of you with a grin full of gratitude. The man takes a sip out of your drink, his eyes instantly growing wide at the taste, nodding his head and closing his eyes in pure bliss.

“Now, this is perfect.”

Giggling at his expression, you finish your plate and sit in a comfortable silence as the boy in front of you does the same. Seeing as he’s done with his serving as well, both of your stomachs full of the delicious meal, you watch him as he clears his throat before speaking up again. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“You know, the usual,” you shrug, “check up on my roommate to see if she hasn’t died in her sleep, maybe try to wake her up in a way that doesn’t get me killed… Do the chores she was supposed to do because now she won’t stop complaining about her headache, and then watch the Spiderman movies, because I saw Tom Holland on my TikTok for you page the other day and suddenly got obsessed,” you explain, chuckling to yourself.

“No way!”

“What?”

“I wanted to watch those too!” Jaemin exclaims, expression full of surprise and excitement, his face lighting up something inside of you that makes you speak before you even get a chance to contemplate your decision.

“Let’s watch it together, then!”

His face falls into disappointment, pursing his lips as he shakes his head, full of disappointment. “I can’t today, I promised Jeno to drive him to his grandma’s in the afternoon.”

“That’s okay, let’s just watch it some other day. I’ll wait with it for you,” you say, finishing the last of your milkshake, seeing as the boy’s eyes light up at your suggestion.

“But what about your plans?”

“I can watch something else today,” you say, “maybe I’ll watch something with Yizhuo, so she forgets about her grumpy mood, you know.”

And with that, the plans are arranged. It all happens so quickly and spontaneously you can’t even let yourself process your actions, your brain only waking up when Jaemin pays for you at the counter despite your protests, deep voice full of teasing telling you that it’s okay and that it’s for all the snacks he’s eaten and will further eat while he’s over at your place.

“What do you mean it’s not on Netflix?” you hush, scrolling through the app popped up on the TV, clearly not showing any signs of the Spiderman movies. You could’ve sworn you’ve seen the movies on there when you were randomly scrolling through the service one day, not really interested in seeing them, but when it’s the time for you to actually watch the series, it’s nowhere to be seen, vanished from the face of the earth. It happens quite a lot with Netflix, actually– and while google may say the movie is available, when you open up the app yourself, it’s like you’re banned from seeing everything that’s there for the rest of the world to see.

“Well, we can just watch something else, then–”

“I am not watching anything else, Jaemin, we came here to watch Spiderman, so that’s what we’re doing,” you announce, rolling your eyes in annoyance. It’s not his fault– of course it isn’t– but the way he’s willing to give up on the movie so easily is making your blood boil. You’re no quitter when it comes to movies– either you get it on Netflix, or you do some digging (doesn’t matter if it takes you more time than the actual running time of the movie itself) and pirate it online. A few ads about hot singles in your area could never stop you when you’re about to watch something your soul has been searching for the last few weeks.

“We don’t have Disney plus, though,” the man squints, seemingly at the end with his solutions.

“We don’t need those paid streaming services,” you roll your eyes, shutting the TV off and getting your laptop from the bottom shelf of your coffee table, “let’s just find it online.”

Typing in your password and opening up the browser, a few searches of Spiderman online for free later, you’re able to find at least five sites with your desired movie in it. The only thing left for you to do is to check if it has subtitles– because when you watch a movie, all your listening comprehension abilities fly out of the window, no matter how fluent in the language you are– and see which one has the best quality. Settling on an ugly looking site with three ads covering the video window and another five around the corners, you smile to yourself, noticing as your companion only stares at you in awe. The look makes you feel like you just hacked the FBI site, and judging from his eyes, he’s admiring you as if you really did just show him the doings of Anonymous, but you only roll your eyes at him and snicker as you point towards your screen.

“Now we just click through 25 ads and pop-up windows and we’re there,” you nod, motioning towards the laptop, before a sound of the front door opening makes you jump up in surprise and halt in your movements.

Seeing as your roommate gets into the hall, seemingly out of breath and red in her face, carrying her tote bag scrunched up in the palm of her hand like a sack full of dog shit instead of the fashion statement it is, Yizhuo looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and a lost look on her face. “What’s Jaemin doing here?”

The boy next to you huffs in offense, opening his mouth and chiming in his defense. “And what are you doing here? Did the three meters from the elevator to the front door tire you this much?”

“I live here!” she exclaims, throwing her arms up in the air. “And the lift is broken again, so I had to take the stairs. I don’t think we had a hangout scheduled today?” she asks, pointing towards her project partner with a lost look, seemingly annoyed at herself just in case she forgot about the study session and made other plans instead.

“No,” Jaemin gets out, shaking his head, “we didn’t.”

“Oh,” Yizhuo says, eyes drifting from him back to you and then from you back to him, before realization settles onto her face as she nods. “Oh,” she repeats, more exaggerated now, “I see how it is. Inviting Na Jaemin over when I’m not around…”

Heat rising to your cheeks, you speak up for the first time, completely ready to shield yourself from her slandering words. “Yeah, speaking of that, weren’t you supposed to be on your date with Mark?”

The girl smiles at you in irony, noting the choice of words, before she runs into her room and comes out with a purse instead, dropping her things into the new bag. Before she’s out of the flat again, she pops a head back into the living room, waving at you with one last goodbye. “I just had to take a different bag, since this kept falling off my shoulder. I’ll see you guys in the evening, and please, out of all places, don’t shag at the kitchen counter, at least–”

“Your date is waiting.”

“At least I admit that it’s a date, sweetie, so in your place, I’d shut my mouth,” she recites, tone laced with bitterness, “okay, bye, kiss kiss!” she says before the sound of the door loudly shutting pierces through your ears, leaving the two of you in complete silence.

Clearing your throat, deciding to not go back to the things that have come out of your roommate's mouth, you shift your focus back onto the laptop, awkwardly scratching your neck before speaking up. “Now that’s out of the way…” you mumble, “can you please try to get the movie playing? There will be about 75 ads popping up, you just need to patiently close each and every one of them and not play the porn games, okay?”

“Why would I–”

“I’m gonna make some popcorn in the meantime, since I imagine it’s gonna take a while. Oh and also, you can’t pause the movie, because that makes the whole process repeat and we’ll have to close all of the ads again, so when it’s done, just call me and I’ll be quick,” you finish explaining before disappearing into the kitchen area.

Rummaging through the cupboards, you finally acquire the popcorn you’ve been searching for. Plopping it into the microwave and setting the timer to approximately 3 minutes, you go on a search for more snacks– sweet ones this time, since chasing down the saltiness with a chocolate bar is your favorite activity to do after eating popcorn– and getting out some bowls to put everything into, preparing the things onto the kitchen counter.

Too absorbed in the noise of the corn popping in the microwave, you don’t notice footsteps approaching you in the small room, the voice of Na Jaemin scaring you to death.

“I love these!” he exclaims, motioning to the M&M’s you just opened and poured into a bowl. His voice makes you turn back to him in surprise, adrenaline in your veins only heightening when your face almost meets his chest, his body so close to your figure you can almost feel the heat radiating off his figure. Gasping at the close proximity, you react automatically and try to take a step back from him, but your back only meets the counter that somehow does nothing to support your frame as you back up to it, making you lose your balance and almost crash into the hard surface.

Jaemin’s arms shoot up quickly to steady you, one hand landing on your hip and another one gently catching the back of your head into his palm so you don’t meet with the upper drawers of the kitchen counter in a painful thud, the soft gesture making pools of honey gather in your stomach at the action. “Careful,” he snickers at your taken-aback posture, your hands aimlessly clutching the edge of the countertop.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t appear out of nowhere, I wouldn’t almost smash my head open out of surprise,” you mumble, eyes shifting from his face towards his chest instead, the so well-known feeling of curiosity and nerves you thought was long gone whenever you are around Jaemin approaching you again in great measures, keeping you up on your toes.

He only shrugs at your expression, not really offering you any more words, a chuckle escaping past his lips almost driving you to insanity.

One of his arms– the one cradling the crown of your head– comes down around you and reaches into the sweets bowl, taking a few into his hold and dropping them onto his tongue. Chewing, with an overly-exaggerated hum of satisfaction, the man offers you the sweets and feeds you off his palm, the sugar melting on your tongue somehow reminding you of the man standing in front of you, the tension growing big in your stomach.

“You’re standing very close,” you mutter under your nose when you notice his and your thighs touching, hearing as he hums at your remark.

“Do you not like it?”

“I–” you stutter, cheeks only further heatening at the question, “that’s not what I said.”

“See,” he snickers, “I’m standing in perfect proximity, then.”

Eyes hesitantly jumping to his face, seeing him looking down at you with warm eyes and a teasing glint in his smile, your heartbeat quickens even more, slowly starting to match the rhythm of the corn popping in the microwave. His hand still on your hip, the contact of it with your clothed skin burning, you’re suddenly finding it really hard to keep your nerves down, swallowing harshly before you open your mouth to speak up or else you’re going to go crazy.

“Jaemin–”

“Can you admit that to yourself?” he cuts you off, suddenly, face curious and a little more hesitant than before. Looking at him with confusion in your eyes, he repeats the question. “That this is a date. Can you… can you admit that to yourself, Y/N?”

Blinking a few times at the strange inquiry, you stutter again, your thoughts running back and forth in your brain too fastly for you to catch up with them. “I– well, I–”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jaemin snickers again. “I was told that you’re a bit oblivious, and that I should probably be more direct with my actions, because of… obvious reasons…” he chuckles, “so if you needed confirmation, I’d think of this as a date. And the lunch we had together before as well, if that wasn’t clear enough… I originally wanted to play it more subtly, but I realized that I should maybe change my ways for you to get me, so… if you don’t want this to be a date, just tell me. I just thought I should tell you.”

Gasping at his words, you shake your head in clear disapproval, suddenly too worried about him getting the wrong message. “It’s– I was hoping… this was a date? I– I mean–”

The man in front of you visibly relaxes, giggling at your reaction. His heartfelt laughter makes the mood lighter again– the knot in your stomach loosening a little only for a bit, before the man catches you off guard with another question, his face inching dangerously close to you.

“Do you do kisses on first dates, then?”

Breath shaking, eyes shifting from his deep eyes to the plush skin of his lips, you mumble out a reply. “I mean… by what you just said, this is not really a first date, so…”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?”

Gaping into his face, you nod– barely visible, but it’s there and it’s enough of a confirmation– before your eyes are shut in expectation and his soft lips land on yours, the sweetness of candy mixing in with the saccharine nature of his personality, gentle presses to your parted mouth making your knees week with bliss. Your hands hesitantly find their place on his neck, bringing him closer when he tries to pull away, earning yourself a smile from the male that you can feel in the kiss, the knot in your stomach fully disappearing and morphing into lightness and gentle fluttering.

Feeling the man sucking on your bottom lip and gently pinching the skin of your hip that he’s still kneading in between his fingers, you squeal into the contact as he gently hosts you up onto the kitchen counter, lips attacking yours only breaking apart when the microwave goes off and you try to catch your breath in between hungry kisses.

“Jaemin–”

“Hm?” he hums as his lips occupy themselves with your jaw instead, seeing as you’re meaning to talk right now and he’s a gentleman– he doesn’t want to break your words.

“The popcorn’s done,” you sigh, his lips only reaching further down your neck, not really paying attention to anything you’re saying, only responding with a content hum of acknowledgment. Seeing as he doesn’t really care– and neither do you, honestly, with his lips so magically attached to your skin– you let yourself indulge in the action again, tugging him back towards your face by his chin and connecting your lips once again, firm kisses exchanged between the two of you as his hands stay secure on the curve of your hips.

Fingers threading into the hair on his nape, you chuckle into the kiss when he talks in between, annoying you and amusing you at the same time– since you can’t get enough of his mouth, but still find his words kind of funny. “Oh look, it only took this long for you to realize I have a crush on you…”

Tired of his teasing, you shake your head in disbelief as you decide to move your lips away from his mouth, but rather pressing them along his jaw, just the way he did only a few seconds ago, shyly, yet determinately attaching yourself to his neck, pressing soft kisses steadily in between more hungrier ones, admiring the redness of his skin when you part away from him and see the wet spots you just attacked. “Can’t say it wasn’t worth it, though,” he hums as you seemingly find his soft spot, his whole body reacting as he squirms under you and moves you so you’re back against his lips, the contact more heated and rushed.

His hand slowly teases the edge of your shirt, cold fingertips drumming across your belly, and the further up he moves, the more goosebumps appear all over your back, pressing yourself closer to him on the uncomfortable kitchen counter.

“I know Yizhuo said no shagging on the kitchen counter, but I mean…” he hums as his hand reaches the hem of your bra, “what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, am I right?”

Giggling at his comment, you momentarily contemplate to giving in to the temptation, but a loud noise coming from the living room is enough to wake you up back to your senses, the sound of the movie acting as a wake up call, causing your whole body to jump and shrug Jaemin’s hands off you; his swollen lips and flushed cheeks on your full display when you gape at him.

“The movie’s playing?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods, “forgot to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me! I explained that you can’t pause it, now we have to load it again because rewinding it does the same,” you mourn, pushing him a little further away from you so you can jump off the counter and chime into the living room, his footsteps following you.

“I mean, I thought this was much more entertaining than the movie, but okay,” he says, causing you to playfully swat him on the shoulder before you close the tab and reopen it again, shoving him towards the kitchen instead.

“Go and get the popcorn out. I’ll load it back up, since you’re totally useless at the art of pirating,” you chime, rolling his eyes at him, battling back the grin that’s threatening to settle onto your features all while you’re trying to calm down the erratic beating of your heart.

And when the movie finally plays and you let yourself settle against Jaemin’s figure on the sofa, content with his arms around your middle and the occasional comments he lets out at the scenes rolling on the screen, you find yourself wondering how after all of this, this is the way you end up with him– spontaneously and totally unprepared.

A scene of Peter Parker appears on your laptop, the man in the red spider suit shooting webs to the top of the building to get MJ into safety, making a bubbly laugh heave out of Jaemin’s throat. “I wish I had those when I had to carry you drunk to the top floor,” he teases.

“Oh shut up, you did that to yourself,” you roll your eyes, reminding yourself of the day with much despair in your memory.

“And what was I supposed to do, leave you there?” he chuckles. “Besides, I quite liked the journey. Didn’t even mind that it took so long… it made the top floor feel like a big reward, you know,” he says, and when he looks at you from the corner of his eye, his orbs warming up like hot chocolate,

you swear there’s a metaphor– hell, a life lesson– somewhere in there.

#nct #nct dream #na jaemin #jaemin #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin fluff #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabble #jaemin imagine #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenario #nct dream fic

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shocymer · 8 months ago

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121U. 「 Want To Want You 」

"Accidentally crash in to the afterparty of your college football club. There's not a single thought that you end up making out with their hot quarterback."

Pairing : Baekhyun × afab! reader

Word counts : 1.5k

Contents & Warning : suggestive, university! AU, football player! Baekhyun, strangers to lovers, inspired by Day6 -121U.

× Happy late-Birthday, Baekhyun! × | masterlist | a cup of ☕

“Where? Huh? Your major’s festival? Okay okay I’ll be there, I’ll call you back later.” Hanging up the call with your bestie, you rushed up to her faculty building.

Now is 11 p.m. In fact, your best friend asked you to join her since the afternoon. But you've need to gather some reference books in the library first. Too immersed in it, you can’t believe it's almost midnight already.

Isn't it too lively at this late hour? Many tents were still set up firmly, decorated with vivid hanging lamps on each booth. There are still a lot of visitors coming in and out. Feels so different on the first time you set foot here, especially seeing the unusual views. Yeah you admit that you’re not such an update student when it’s come to campus events. Seems like what your best friend said is true, you need to have a little fun at least during your college year.

‘Ding’ a notification sound lit up your phone screen under your grasp. A simple text message showed up the second you are tapping on it.

(Bestie) bae don't call me, my phone is nearly dying. Oh I’m in the blue one! Cya xoxoxo

Ah, seriously? You thought while typing a quick reply.

(You) mkayy

Whether you’re tired or something, the first thing you do is looking for a blue tent just like what 'you assume' she said. As far as the eye could see, there’s no sign of a blue tent around. You let out a deep sigh before decided to left the festival area. Thinking that it will be easier to find those place outside rather than in there.

Once taking a few steps out of the entrance gate, you see a beam of blue light radiating in the corner of the groups of tents. You approach where the light initially came from in confidence. Hoping to find your best friend then drag her home right away. But after you are getting closer, seems like it came through from a different place, which turned out to be separated from the festival booths. However, you still give it a go. Who knows she might be there, right?

The vibe is obviously too contrast, a faint upbeat music began to be heard clearly as you slowly enter the tent. Lot of unfamiliar faces are busy talking to each other. At the time like this, you regret not to be friends with another major students long before.

Beyond your expectation, the tent is connected to a building you've never been to. The deeper you go, the blue light becomes denser. You look around, groups of supposed to be female students surrounded each of male students, having an exhilarating convo that you still unsure about. But It’s giving a party to celebrate something. A slight hint of alcohol odor is also filled the room made you so sure of it. Your curiosity is answered once you saw a pile of football helmet proudly placed at the corner along with a big trophy next to it.

Well, it looks like you got lost here. Automatically shook your head after thinking of how this party coincides with the festival outside. You intended to get out as soon as possible. Alas, the group of girls you saw earlier simultaneously ran after one of the football players, till you pushed to the side.

Hand grabbed the door handle in reflex as you tried to stand still, “crazy, how famous are these guys here?” You said irritably.

Little did you know there’s someone next to you, chuckling at your words. His long fingers covered the thin lips of his, trying to muffle the laughter. Those voice was so satisfactionaly crisp that it tickled your ears. He stopped doing so after both of your eyes met.

Breathtaking. is the first word that comes to your mind. The way those eye smile formed when he is laughing despite a few strands of damp hair subtly covered it. His tall and quite slender figures caught your eyes the most. You can’t believe with those delicate look, he is literally one of them as the game jersey still wrapped around his torso perfectly fit. You stare at him in awe, wondering how pretty his pair of orbs can be if there’s a chance to looking at it up-close.

“Are you okay?” He asked after realizing you were lost in thought for a moment.

“Y-Yeah I’m totally fine.”

Leaning closer to you, he raised his voice a little bit right next to your ear. “But you don’t seem so. Perhaps, do you need something to drink?”

You're the one who's gone crazy, the music has been this loud ever since. How can you mesmerized at this man to the point you could caught his laughter so clearly before. You tried to collect your own sanity before lean over to him,

“No thanks, there’s only booze that I see around.”

His mouth form an “A” shape for a couple of seconds, before fully suggested you something, “I have some water. If you don’t mind, c’mere.”

You nodded as following his back behind, opening the door that you held for your dear life a few minutes ago, which is the football team’s locker room. Even this room decorated with much darker blue light just to match the party vibes. At least your hearing is saved as only less loud music can be heard outside.

He handed you a black metallic water bottle, “I never see you before.”

“Uhm well, actually my faculty is 5 buildings away from here. So.. Yeah” You gulped down the water that he offer to you. “Thanks by the way.”

“Sure no problems.”

After that only silence remained, the mood’s shifting undeniably fast. Looking at how awkward both of you right now. You pay close attention to what is printed on his back. ‘Baekhyun’ and number ‘04’ are visibly written on it. Sometimes he took a glance at you only to catch you red-handed staring at him so intent. Feeling like a blood rushed up to his head, he's too shy to say anything. He decided to brush it aside by ruffling his still damped hair.

Your fingertips itching to reach his front bangs while blurting out few words under your sense, “you’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry your hair properly.”

As your hand nearly touch his hair, he grab it swift motion. “Just.. don’t touch it.”

“Ah sorry I didn’t mea-”

Before you succeed pulling your hand back, he brought it to his cheek while keeping the eye contact with you. Slowly, his lips putting a soft kisses by the end of your palm. “Can you dry it off for me?”

Without a single thought, you reach an unclaimed towel that’s neatly folded on the bench. Then stretching out your hands to dry his hair off as you positioned yourself face to face along to him. At first you actually did that heartily. But after you realized he didn't let go of his gaze towards you as if you would disappear at any moment, your rationality poofs away.

Too dangerous. Your heart beats goes up in rapid speed. If it’s not under the dim light the flushed cheeks of yours would definitely be seen by him,

“why.. you keep staring at me like that?”

“Because I want to.”

“What If.. I want you?” Fingers squeezing through the hem of slightly wet cloth that cling on top his head as you expected perhaps a rejection.

“Well, If that’s the case,” he tucked your hair behind your ear, “I will let you have me.”

His index finger lifted your chin, demanding an eye contact meanwhile his other hand busy untangled your clenched digits to be interlocked with his. Bodies lean forward, the tip of lips are nearly touching, the scent of soft linen and a hint of floral mixed into one only to tease your sense of smell. His warm breath sparked the overflowing desire,

“Please.. don’t tease me..”

He chuckled with head hanging low for a mere seconds before his deep brown orbs seeking through into yours for once again, “first I need to know your name, young lady.” While planting a quick kiss on the back of your hand.

Your lips trembled, stumbling upon the word by word of your own government name which ended up make him burst in laughter. He find you too cute to be true. “Your name is beautiful, just like you.”

He pulled you into deep yet passionate kisses. A slight of naughty smile formed on his lips, the way he felt your body shudder as soon as his fingers running from the nape of your neck down to the lower back. Moving in painfully slow motion.

Head’s going blank, eyelids are too heavy to open, you murmured between the making out session under your control. “But.. I’m not as beautiful as you Baekhyun..”

Out of everyone’s encounter him in romantic ways, you’re the one and only who’s flatter him using the word ‘beautiful’ at such timing. He couldn’t help, hiding an ear to ear smile against your shoulder. Till his soft whisper blown into your sensitive ear.

“Just wait, I will prove you wrong after this.” following by a michievous wink in the end.

a.n. I know it's a sudden baekhyun fic because I miss him lately after I rewatch exo's killing voice T.T He's my ult bias in exo and I really want to tell him that he's so beautiful, gorgeous, spectacular, amazing, breathtaking, scrumptious, immaculate + other praises following behind. Oh well, Happy Birthday Byun Baekhyun! ♡

#byun baekhyun #byun baekhyun x reader #baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo baekhyun #exo smut #baekhyun smut #exo fic #exo fics #exo fanfic #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #kpop fics #kpop fanfic #shocymer

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cupidseok · 1 year ago

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things that evoke memories of riize

💒 — SHOTARO AS

the bittersweet tug of homesickness, the aromatic smell of freshly ground coffee beans that first hits you upon stepping into a cafe, unexpectedly meeting a high school friend you really missed on the streets, the solace found in being able to comfort you, the warmth of sunlight kissing your skin, ties with cute little patterns on them, the click of film cameras while taking photos of you, the lingering feeling after a hug, getting bungeoppang in the winter and chatting with the street vendor while waiting for his order, carrot cakes, a large collection of bucket hats, love countdown by nayeon, wonstein

🩰 — EUNSEOK AS

soft ballad music playing in the background, the gentle warmth of intertwined hands, early morning strolls, the adrenaline rush coursing through you while riding roller coasters, holding hands in haunted houses, long facetime calls spent in silence, brushing his lips over your forehead, trembling lips as he lets himself be vulnerable to you for the first time, exploring a place he has never been before, the feeling that you’re going to know each other for a long time, a handsome stranger you saw on an overseas trip once and never again, watching studio ghibli films together, carbonara pasta, breathe by lauv

💭 — SUNGCHAN AS

texts to check if you’ve eaten, greeting dogs that pass by, wandering aimlessly in an art museum, purposely stepping in a puddle of water just to splash someone, playfully fighting you for the tv remote but letting you win in the end, opening jars for you even though you can do it yourself, letting him play with your hair until it’s all tangled, the chime of school bells signalling the day’s end, taking photos with friends on the last day of school, the soft brush of elbows while writing side by side, keeping your hair tie on his wrist, eating vanilla ice cream on sunny days, 爱你 by kimberley chen

✨ — WONBIN AS

late night walks under the moonlit sky, someone’s hand slipping in yours, dark chocolate, dazzle of fireworks illuminating the night, reflecting on his eyes, learning how to play a new instrument, a faceless photo of you and him on his lockscreen, watching a drama together and rooting for different male leads, putting on a facade of toughness to impress you, gently reassuring him that perfection isn’t always necessary, clothes that fit you just right, love at first sight, matching earrings, only letting you touch his guitar, the reluctance to bite into cute chinese piggy steamed buns, wish you were sober by conan gray

💌 — SEUNGHAN AS

sweet goodnight texts, good luck charms handmade with endearing clumsiness, trying new food, finding something you thought you lost, autum leaves rustling in the wind, holding the door open for you, exchanging affectionate words endlessly, winning a soft toy at an amusement park on the first try, patiently teaching you how to play games, looking through his photoalbum when he misses you, doodling shinchan on the corners of your worksheet, taking a bite of your spicy bibimmyeon, then complaining that it was too spicy for him, die for you by the weeknd, ariana grande

👒 — SOHEE AS

shopping for caps together, a tranquil morning greeted by a gentle breeze, buying a new fuzzy blanket, curtains billowing in the wind, waiting for you to come home to him, the comfort of oversized plain white shirts and grey joggers, playing rock paper scissors to divide household chores, needing to pause and go outside for a breather every time he realises how down bad he is for you, trying to order a kids meal at a restaurant and getting embarrassed after the waiter doesn’t allow it, getting tteokbokki together after school, candy by baekhyun

🎧 — ANTON AS

wired earphones connected to an mp3 player, warm beach towels, trying to make an asmr video, eating cake off the floor so you wouldn’t feel bad for dropping it, constantly sending you tiktoks that remind him of you, water parks on hot summer days, classical music, old books with yellowed pages and worn covers, putting on sheet masks together, reading children’s storybooks for you to help you fall asleep, making eye contact across the room, the moment where you realise that he feels the exact same way that you feel at the same moment, snow on the beach by taylor swift, lana del rey

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naoristerling · 8 months ago

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Yeosang fic rec

Entropy (k.ys) | 21.3k @in-san-ity

Hacker yeo X reader mafia

things never went according to plan; career wise, family wise, relationship wise and especially not when you were suddenly saddled with an infant to raise but you learned to roll with the punches. except the next challenge you were about to face wasn't a punch, it was a machine gun.

Fated

Alma gêmea

Siren | 27,8k @sorryimananti-romantic

yeosang is a siren and you're a siren-hunter. he may have lost his voice and you may be immune to a siren's call, but he has you bewitched anyway. on your journey together to find the sirens who killed your parents and took his voice, you make new friends, find yourself cursed and turning into a siren, and fall for yeosang. he proves time and time again that he's not the monster you thought all sirens to be as he helps you come to terms with yourself and find the person who cursed you.

Freaks || Kang Yeosang | 3,4k @mingigoo

after being friends for ten years, your triad friendship with Yeosang and Wooyoung is falling apart, all because of a simple game—spin the bottle.

Cosmos | 18k @pirateprincessblog

centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then?

ʀᴜᴘᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ | 3k @the-midnight-blooms

Dreams soulmate au

Other members

San

destiny. | 25k @tainsan

waking up in the past is a disorienting experience. what’s even worse is it seems like you’re the only person in the world who is experiencing it. so when all of a sudden, a distressed man shows up claiming he has also woken up in the past. you realise he may be the key to your way home, yet he also just so happens to be a member from your favourite kpop group, ateez.

Champagne Problems | ? @mingigoo

after finding out your dad set you up in an arranged marriage that you wanted no part of, the only thing you could think of is claiming you already had a lover. To prove it, you kissed a complete stranger in front of him at your engagement party—a stranger you knew your dad wouldn’t approve of.

blushing red. | 11k @atozfic

how did choi san go from wanting to protect you like a big brother to wanting to ruin you with his own two hands? ( part of the rainbow riots anthology series. )

Overdrive | 18k @atozfic

wildfire (cs) | ?k @hwaslayer

assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

Seongwa

Bodyguard | 37,8k @baekhvuns

in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

rewrite the stars | 24k @baekhyun-ah

in which you runway to escape an alliance accompanied by an unknown man named park seonghwa.

Arrow in the dark | 65k

Your quiet life of working at a convenience store is upended when ultra wealthy Seonghwa convinces you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night in order to fool his parents.

Playing with fire | 200+k @ateezmakemeweep

Age gap

when your scholarship falls through during the last semester of your college career, you were, admittedly, on edge.

overwhelmed by the prospect of delaying your graduation to save up thousands of dollars or work a second job or, per the suggestion of your roommate, sell pictures of your feet.

you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father.

that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year.

but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of.

Wooyoung

If Without You | 14k @sorryimananti-romantic

your childhood best friend wooyoung decides to move in with you in the middle of your college degree, and now you just have to live with him and hide your very romantic feelings for him in the fear it would ruin your friendship.

Hongjoong

needle to the heart | 7k @pirateprincessblog

wedding planning seemed stressful and difficult on tv and in the stories of your friends and family. your first one was, indeed, stressful and difficult. so much that it took you less than ten minutes to discard your wedding dress, undo your hair, and call a cab. this time will be different. with a different approach. in a different city. with a different man.

look after you || k.hj (m.) | 10k @mingigoo

after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...

Overdrive | 18k @atozfic

a lonely artist finds himself in need of some human contact, so he joins a dating app but with a very specific request: he doesn’t want a relationship, he wants the experience of one. when someone contacts him, interested and willing to aid him in his search for artistic inspiration, the rules quickly become simple: no real names, no personal details, no feelings. so what the hell is kim hongjoong supposed to do when he catches himself daydreaming about their future together?- or, can you fall in love with a stranger?

Your Gentle Hands (They Feel Like Home To Me). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part I ] | 31k @yourlocaljonghoe

meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

New World | 27k @sorryimananti-romantic

you've always known the crown prince was just a little power hungry, however, when you offer to kill the king for him as part of your big scheme to end the monarchy, you didn't realise he'd be ecstatic about it. while you etch out an elaborate plan to get more obstacles out of the way, you start enjoying his company just a little too much. it ultimately clouds your judgement and becomes the cause of your downfall, though... if you go down, he goes down with you :D

what lies beneath | k.hj | 13k @noramoons

there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

The secret garden | 13k @yoonguurt

Spring brings with it the need for a change. You're in a writing rut and that just can't happen right now. You decided to spend a few months with your aunt at her massive garden estate. for the first time in 10 years. Dreams of a boy you don't remember become a nightly thing. Who is this boy?

TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts | 14k @edenesth

Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.

Lust is in the Air | 6.5k ❤️‍🔥 @bananayuyu

Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

One-shot I ?k ❤️‍🔥 @sugawhaaa

Eita que ele tá bravo

𝔐𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔫 | ok @holybibly

You've always had expensive taste. So when you meet a gorgeous older man in a bar with the most ravenous feline eyes and diabolical smile, you can't resist the urge to taste him. You let him take you back to his place and give you the most unforgettable night of your life.

His favourite | 12k @k-hotchoisan

#yeosang #kang yeosang #ateez #doberman #kim hongjoong #choi san #park seonghwa #long fic #hongjoong oneshot

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arabelladeclan · 10 months ago

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stray kids: discography

i remember getting very confused about their song releases and just the discography in general, so i compiled official releases in one post.

stray kids also have multiple songs only released on youtube, usually under "SKZ-RECORD", which means they're not on albums (or spotify). these are the ones:

ORIGINALS (only on youtube):

DRIVE - CHAN, LEE KNOW

UP ALL NIGHT - 오늘 밤 나는 불을 켜 - SEUNGMIN, FELIX, CHANGBIN, CHAN

MAKNAE ON TOP - 막내온탑 - I.N, feat. CHAN, CHANGBIN

LITTLE STAR - 꼬마별 - HYUNJIN

ICE CREAM - HYUNJIN

STREET LIGHT - CHANGBIN feat. CHAN

CLOSE - HAN

HAPPY - HAN

WISH YOU BACK - HAN

조각 (SCULPTURE) - CHANGBIN, SEUNGMIN

좋으니까 (BECAUSE I LOVE YOU) - CHANGBIN, FELIX

외계인 (ALIEN) - HAN

찬스 (CHANCE) - FELIX, CHAN

한 번 더 리플레이 (ICE AMERICANO) - LEE KNOW, HAN

빵꿀즈 (YEAH BOSS) - I.N, CHANGBIN

0티격태격 (TEASING) - HYUNKIN, SEUNGMIN "잔소리 대마왕 (KING OF NAGGING)"

인정하기 싫어 (I HATE TO ADMIT IT) - CHAN

CYPHER - CHANGBIN

I GOT IT - HAN

not to mention 3RACHA, a sub-unit constituted by CHAN, CHANGBIN AND HAN, (who go by different names: CB97, SPEARB, J.ONE) also have their own tracks on separate releases, one of them named ZONE. i'll just leave the link for their official channel because everything is there and neatly organized. click here to see 3RACHA's stuff.

there are also OST (original soundtracks) that weren't released as singles or single albums, like TOP, so these are the ones i found:

POP UP BOY!: HELLO STRANGER (STRAY KIDS)

LOVE IN CONTRACT: CLOSE TO YOU (SEUNGMIN)

EXTRAORDINARY YOU: NEVER ENDING STORY (also translated as "story that won't end") (STRAY KIDS)

HOMETOWN CHA-CHA-CHA: HERE ALWAYS (SEUNGMIN)

TOWER OF GOD: TOP (STRAY KIDS)

TOWER OF GOD: SLUMP (STRAY KIDS)

these are collabs i know exist:

GOING DUMB - ALESSO X STRAY KIDS X CORSAK

JUST BREATHE - SKY-HI feat. 3RACHA (CHAN, CHANGBIN, HAN)

MIRROR MIRROR - F.HERO x MILLI feat. CHANGBIN

NO PROBLEM - NAYEON (TWICE) feat. FELIX

COVERS:

they have covered tons of songs, from voice to choreos, whether on studios or live, and it's a little impossible to compile all of them, but i'll be completing this list as i come across them:

(most of the covers in this list came from a video i found, by user Cray K, and it's from january, 2019, so they are featured on the same video):

AS IF IT'S YOUR LAST - (originally by BLACKPINK)

GO CRAZY + HANDS UP - (originally by 2PM)

NEW FACE - (originally by PSY)

WARRIOR'S DESCENDANT - (originally by H.O.T)

IT'S RAINING - (originally by RAIN)

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY - (originally by TWICE)

WHO'S YOUR MAMA -(originally by JYP)

GOODBYE BABY - (originally by MISS A)

LOOK - (originally by GOT7)

DNA - (originally by BTS)

HARD CARRY - (originally by GOT7)

GROWL + OVERDOSE - (originally byEXO)

DIONYSIUS - (originally by BTS)

BANG, BANG, BANG - (originally by BIG BANG)

FANCY - (originally by TWICE)

MY HOUSE - (originally by 2PM)

ADORE U - (originally by SEVENTEEN)

LIKE OOH AHH - (originally by TWICE)

AGAIN & AGAIN - (originally by 2PM)

HISTORY OF K-POP: Stray Kids X NCT DREAM (featuring felix' iconic "BOOM SHAKA LAKA, WOW FANTASTIC" that you see everywhere)

INDIVIDUAL/TWO PEOPLE COVERS: it also includes other people that were featuring the songs. these might get confusing because most titles are in korean, but i did my best to find the original artists' names romanized and the songs' titles:

위로 ("consolation) |artist: 권진아 = KWON JIN-AH |cover by I.N

GHOST |artist: Justin Bieber| cover by SEUNGMIN

ZOMBIE |artist: DAY6 - cover by HAN, SEUNGMIN

향기만 남아 ("memory of your scent") |artist: 허각 = HUH GAK - covered by I.N

3108 |artist: 하현상 = HA HYUNSANG |cover by SEUNGMIN

LOVE AGAIN |artist: 백현 = BAEKHYUN - covered by SEUNGMIN

너였다면 ("if it is you")/ artist: 정승환 = JUNG SEUNG-HWAN - covered by I.N

시작 ("start") |artist: 가호 = GAHO |cover by SEUNGMIN

그렇게 있어 줘 ("stay as you are") |artist: 산들 - SANDEUL |cover by SEUNGMIN

CONGRATULATIONS |artist: DAY6 |cover by HAN, SEUNGMIN

예뻤어 ("you were beatiful") |artist: DAY6 |covered by SEUNGMIN

ME! |artist: Taylor Swift |covered by Tzuyu (from TWICE feat. CHAN)

PSYCHO |artist: Red Velvet |covered by HYUNJIN (SKZ), SANHA (ASTRO), BOMIN (GOLDEN CHILD), DAEHWI AB6IX

여름 안에서("in summer) |artist: DEUX |covered by FELIX, 우기 (SONG YUQI), 영훈 (THE BOYZ)

"TOMORROW" |artist: ? |covered by CHANGBIN (on masked singer)

CITY OF STARS |artist: ? |covered by FELIX, LIA (ITZY), CHAN

there's a bunch of other covers made in variety shows besides live performances, so i'm just gonna leave this link for you to see everything is compiled.

#stray kids #maxident #noeasy #oddinary #bang chan #lee felix #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #seo changbin #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #i.n #hwang hyunjin

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baekhyunsbestie · 15 days ago

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── ❝ choose ❞ 🦢ྀི ̟!!

⟢ an arranged marriage au req’d by this qt anonie <3 :’) ty lovie!

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 22.5k+ words—omg i just don't know how to stfu do i ⁉️ baekhyun x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. sehun x f!reader. arranged marriage au. strangers to friends to lovers. the trifecta: angst, fluff, smut ⟡ alcohol consumption, explicit language, jealousy on both sides, solo masturbation (baek), pet names, praise kink, body worship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, creampie ⟡

you could hardly wrap your head around the situation unraveling in front of you.

just a week ago, the idea of sitting in this stuffy, oversized meeting room, surrounded by your parents, their precious real estate company’s top shareholders, and a room full of suits from the country’s leading investment firm, would have been laughable. yet here you were, their board of directors staring across at yours like it was a chess match.

and apparently, you were the pawn.

“i know we’re asking a lot, dearest,” your father’s voice echoes carried the weight of his words as he spoke to you from the backseat of the car, heading toward the byuns’ estate. “but this arrangement with the byuns will strengthen our standing in the business world. you understand, don’t you?”

the words swirled in your mind like smoke, thick and suffocating. his company was already worth billions, a family legacy poised to stretch across generations. this wasn’t about business; it was just cold, unquenchable greed.

“plus,” your mother chimed in, her tone softened by the tinkling of pearls around her neck, “it’s about time you started thinking about settling down, darling.” she shot you a sympathetic smile that felt as cold and detached as the diamonds in her ring.

you offered a forced smile and a nod, swallowing down the rush of anger that threatened to spill over. you did your best to hide the unease bubbling within, a skill honed since you were young, the result of years spent learning to maintain a poised, unflappable exterior.

twenty five years in, and it felt like you’d spent at least twenty of those meticulously walking the tightrope of your family’s expectations—always striving to make them proud, to meet every demand placed on you. from a young age, you were drilled in the understanding that your role as the daughter of a man of notable standing was to be obedient, to speak with poise and intelligence, to master the intricate dance of business that came with being his one and only heir.

it was almost impressive how deeply your parents had buried this secret, orchestrating your future without so much as a slip-up. a plan so meticulous it must have been in the works since you were a child.

the room was alive with chatter, a symphony of negotiations and legal jargon — talks of contracts, investments, and of course, prenups. your chest tightened, the air feeling heavier with every word. the faint hum of voices blurred as your gaze scanned the room, searching for him — the heir, the man you were apparently promised to, like a relic passed between dynasties.

but he wasn’t there.

as if his father could read your thoughts, his voice sliced through the tension, calm and composed. “baekhyun is on his way. he…had to handle some important business in the city for me. but don’t you worry, you’ll meet your fiancé very soon.”

fiancé.

the word felt like a stone sinking in your stomach.

your nails dug into your palms, the sting grounding you, a small reminder that this wasn’t just some twisted dream. you were tired of this—tired of being your parents’ perfect little pawn, always following their rules, always nodding along. but this? this was too much.

your life wasn’t a business deal. but to them, that’s all it had ever been.

as the lively chatter swirled around you, the voices blending into a cacophony, you felt the faint throb of a headache creeping in. the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing against your chest and making it harder to draw a full breath. your senses dulled, edges of the world blurring, and the faint dizziness began to spiral into something heavier, more oppressive.

the floor beneath your feet seemed unsteady, the room spinning as if it were alive. desperate to regain control, you pushed yourself to your feet, your only thought was to find some water—or escape the suffocating atmosphere entirely. each breath felt shallower, the weight of the situation curling in your stomach like nausea. in your haze, you barely registered the arrival of more guests, their presence another layer to the overwhelming din.

guests moved like shadows through the chaos, their chatter weaving another layer into the cacophony that pressed against your skull. the air felt heavier with every passing second, the room spinning just enough to blur the faces around you. each shaky step toward the door felt monumental, the faint promise of the hallway’s quiet drawing you forward like a lifeline. but before you could reach it, your knees gave way, a sudden betrayal of your resolve.

the ground surged up to claim you—but it never came. instead, strong arms caught you, steady and sure, halting your descent.

time seemed to pause as his touch anchored you, the frantic noise around you fading into a dull hum. lifting your gaze, you met his. the soft glow of the chandelier above crowned his features in a golden haze, casting delicate highlights over his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw. murmurs swept through the room like ripples on water, curious eyes turning toward the spectacle.

“you okay, sweetheart? you don’t look so good.” his voice was low, calm, each syllable threaded with quiet concern. his dark eyes searched yours, intent and unwavering, as his hands steadied you—gentle yet unyielding.

god, he’s beautiful. breathtaking, even. the plush curve of his pink lips, the faint scatter of freckles that added a boyish charm to his otherwise sharp features, the effortless way his perfectly styled hair framed his face like it belonged in a magazine spread.

“can someone grab her some water?” he called out, eyes still on you. he didn’t wait for a reply before one of the staff rushed to comply, leaving you with the full weight of his attention.

moments later, a chilled bottle was in his hand. he helped you back to your seat, his movements careful but efficient, like he’d done this a hundred times before. with a single twist, the cap came off, and he pressed the bottle into your hands.

“here. drink,” he said, firm but kind, his gaze never leaving your face as though willing you to trust him.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you took a cautious sip, the cool liquid soothing against your parched throat. “i don’t know what came over me. i’m usually not like this.”

he watched you closely, a faint crease between his brows. “just take it easy for a moment,” he said, his voice softer now, the chaos of the room seeming to fade as his focus remained entirely on you.

"i’m baekhyun," he says, extending his hand toward you. his voice is steady, but there's a weight behind it, like he’s forcing himself to sound composed. “you must be my new fiancée.”

your fingers meet his in a brief, formal shake, and the two of you exchange tentative, almost apologetic smiles. it’s not the kind of moment you imagined when meeting your future husband—not romantic or thrilling, just... somber.

your gaze flickers over his features, taking in the way his body seems to rebel against the situation. his shoulders are stiff, tension radiating from him like a coiled spring. his eyes dart around the room, searching for some kind of escape, you suspect. when he finally settles in the chair next to you, his leg starts bouncing—an anxious rhythm against the polished floor. his fingers are laced tightly over his lap, knuckles white, and you can see the faint twitch of his jaw as he clenches it.

“care to take a walk?” you ask, your voice carrying a quiet plea for escape, craving the cool embrace of fresh air to cut through the weight of it all.

“yeah, let’s get outta here,” he answers, his gaze locking onto yours. an effortless, heart-stopping smile spreads across his face—so disarmingly perfect it almost feels unfair. you hate how good he looks when he does that, how his smile seems to eclipse the chaos swirling between you. but, in this tangled mess, it’s a small consolation. at least he’s easy on the eyes. it dulls the bitterness of it all—just enough to let you breathe.

even if only for a moment.

the two of you drift into his family’s garden, a hidden sanctuary tucked away from the grandeur and noise of the estate. vibrant blossoms stretch toward the sunlight in every direction, their hues weaving a striking contrast to the chaos you left behind. the air is cool and fresh, carrying a faint hint of jasmine, and as you inhale deeply, you feel the tension begin to melt from your shoulders.

the world seems softer here.

he trails behind you, his gaze following your every move as you admire the kaleidoscope of colors—blush pinks, fiery reds, golden yellows. there’s a childlike wonder in the way you reach out to brush your fingers across delicate petals. “my mom planted all of this,” he says, his voice gentle as he watches your delight. his steps slow as you move further along the path, his tone softening as he adds, “she pours herself into the garden, says it keeps her busy. i help when i can, but... well, my schedule doesn’t always allow it.”

the weight of his words lingers in the air, a quiet sigh you almost miss over the faint rustle of leaves. eventually, you find yourselves settling on a bench nestled in the heart of the garden. the riot of blooms seems to fade into the periphery, leaving the two of you cocooned in a world of your own. you trace the carvings in the wooden seat, wondering if his mother chose this very spot to escape—a retreat from the noise, a small oasis among the roses and the canopy of trees.

his voice cuts through the stillness, low and threaded with a quiet ache. “i’m sure someone like you knows what it’s like.” the unspoken meaning in his words brushes against your thoughts as his eyes hold yours, steady yet weighted. the scent of jasmine clings to the pause between you, heavy and inescapable. “to never have the freedom to make your own choices.”

you nod slowly, the motion deliberate, though your smile falters, never quite reaching your eyes. your gaze drifts upward, drawn to the tree above. its branches sway gently, a soft rustling of leaves carried by the breeze, like nature's quiet lullaby. the speckled sunlight filters through the canopy, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow over your face. there’s a calmness in the way the leaves dance.

he watches you with an intensity that feels almost palpable, his gaze like a brushstroke tracing the delicate contours of your face. his brown eyes, touched by the sunlight streaming through the trees, shimmer with flecks of golden amber, glinting like embers in their depths. they flit over your features—your lips, the subtle curve of your cheek, the way your lashes catch the light—like he’s trying to decipher the answer to an unspoken question, a puzzle that only you can solve.

there’s a quiet tension in his expression, something searching, like he’s trying to piece together how the two of you, tethered by circumstance yet worlds apart, have found yourselves here. the silence between you is heavy, not with discomfort but with the weight of everything unsaid.

you can almost feel his thoughts skimming the edges of yours, the quiet intensity with which he watches every word you speak, every tiny movement, as if measuring their truth. could someone so grounded, so effortlessly genuine, truly be the daughter of such a money hungry mogul? you don’t carry the polished veneer he expected—the smooth entitlement, the rehearsed charm that usually drips from wealth. instead, there’s a quiet gravity to you, an unrefined rawness that sets you apart, unpolished yet undeniably real.

it unnerves him, perhaps, how different you are from the image he had in mind. but as his gaze lingers, softening around the edges, you realize it’s not judgment you see in his eyes—it’s curiosity. maybe even something more, something unspoken, nestled in the spaces between his glances and the golden light that dances over the garden.

a flicker of something unspoken weaves through your voice as you finally break the silence, the weight of shared understanding hanging just beneath the surface. “looks like we’ve got that in common.”

he seems to snap out of his thoughts, his brows furrowing as he tilts his head, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. “what do you mean?”

your lips curve into a faint, melancholic smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. there’s a vulnerability in the way you say it, as if the words themselves are a confession. “not being able to choose for ourselves.”

the air in the garden was thick with the scent of blooming roses, their delicate petals swaying gently in the breeze as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawn. it was quiet here, far from the bustling estate where their families and shareholders were likely busy hashing out the terms of their future. you and baekhyun sat on the wooden bench beneath a willow tree, its long, graceful branches hanging low, creating a canopy of green above them.

baekhyun was leaning back, his gaze lost in the distance, fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of the bench.

"so, i guess this is how it’s going to be," he said, his voice low and almost melancholic. "both of us, caught up in something we never asked for."

you turned your head to look at him, your eyes soft with understanding. you could see the way his lips barely curled into a smile, but there was a sadness to it, something more than just resignation.

"yeah," you said quietly. "my parents... they’ve made every decision for me. from the moment i was born, it was like my life was planned out, as if i never had a choice."

baekhyun chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "same here. every decision, every step, every role—always played the part they wanted. my future was written before i even had a chance to pick up a pen."

there was a silence between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that came with shared understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the burden you both carried. the sound of birds in the distance seemed louder in the quiet, the rustling of the leaves above them almost rhythmic, as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for them to speak again.

"do you ever wonder what it would be like to just... choose for yourself?" your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with longing, a quiet hope for something more than the life that had been mapped out for you both. "to do something—anything—that’s just yours?"

baekhyun’s eyes flickered to you, something raw and unguarded in his gaze. "all the time," he admitted. "but then i think about the consequences, the responsibilities. it's not that simple, is it?"

you looked away, staring at the grass beneath you, the weight of your shared truth hanging in the air. "no. i guess it’s not."

"but maybe," baekhyun added slowly, his voice thoughtful, "maybe we don’t have to completely surrender ourselves to what they want. maybe there’s a way to carve out a little space for ourselves, even in all of this."

you met his gaze then, and for the first time, something flickered between you—an unspoken agreement, a shared sense of rebellion. the world inside the byun estate might have been spinning around you, filled with deals and plans and expectations, but here, in the quiet of the garden, you were just two people who understood what it was like to be trapped by others’ dreams.

“so, if we’re going to do this, we need to figure out what we want, not just what our families want,” his voice is calm, but you hear the urgency behind his words, as if this conversation is one of the few things in his life he can control.

you nod, your gaze fixed on the ground beneath your feet. you’ve lived your life so far based on what others expected of you—always the perfect daughter, the future heir, never really given the chance to choose. this marriage, this arrangement, felt like just another chain, another expectation to carry. but now, sitting beside baekhyun, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is an opportunity to reshape things.

“what if we made our own terms?” your voice is soft but resolute. “i don’t want to just play the role my parents set for me. i want... i want more than that.”

baekhyun turns to you, eyes searching yours. “what kind of terms are you talking about?”

you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “i think we need to agree on some ground rules. like... real ground rules. for us. not for them, not for the company, not for the shareholders, but for us.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "indulge me, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a soft, inviting challenge.

you pause for a moment, your breath catching as his words swirl around you, the pet name slipping past your guard, laced with a teasing warmth. his gaze locks onto you with an intensity that makes your pulse race. you take a steadying breath, forcing your composure back.

"first," you begin, your voice steady but edged with the quiet fire you've been holding back, "we need the freedom to choose for ourselves. our careers, our lives—those can’t be controlled by anyone else. i refuse to be treated like some asset, some pawn in someone else’s game." you meet his eyes, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. "and i’m sure you don’t want that, either."

baekhyun nods slowly. “agreed. i’ve spent my whole life following their script. it’s exhausting.”

your eyes soften. “we’re not puppets. we don’t need to be. and... we don’t have to start a family just because it’s expected. we should decide when the time is right for us, not because it’s what our parents want. i don’t want to feel like my life’s purpose is only to produce heirs.”

baekhyun’s expression shifts, and his gaze turns thoughtful. “i can’t stand the pressure to ‘settle down’ just for the sake of appearances. if we’re going to do this, it’s got to be on our terms. not theirs.”

a long pause hangs between you, the only sound the distant hum of your families inside the estate. the tension has shifted into something more peaceful, as if your agreement on those points has created a small, sacred space between you, one where you can both breathe. but there’s more.

“one thing,” baekhyun continues, his voice quieter now. “we can’t let them interfere with what we build together. i don’t want anyone pushing us, telling us what to do. not when it comes to our relationship, at least.”

you look up at him, a flicker of something new in your gaze. “agreed. no one gets a say in what we do in private. not our families, not the board members—no one.”

“and,” he adds after a beat, “we need to be honest with each other. no playing games. no pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. if this is going to work, it can’t be based on a lie.”

your lips part, about to speak, but instead, you nod, feeling the quiet weight of that commitment settle between you. “honesty. always.”

there’s a pause before you add something that’s been on your mind. “and if we choose to... see other people—since this is an arranged marriage and all—it has to be with complete discretion. no secrets. we let each other know, no matter what.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, he nods slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i like that. transparency. no hidden agendas.”

you feel a weight lift, as if you’ve just cleared the air between you, creating space for something more real. this wasn’t going to be the typical marriage of convenience. it was theirs to shape, even with its constraints.

you sit there for a while longer, the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting a soft, golden light over the two of you. the garden feels quieter now, as though the earth itself is listening to your promises, absorbing the unspoken understanding between you.

“maybe,” baekhyun says, breaking the silence, “this could be the start of something we both actually choose. not just something we’re forced into.”

you turn your head toward him, meeting his gaze fully now. there’s a quiet, unspoken truth between you, something neither of you can fully explain. you’re not bound by your families’ expectations anymore, not entirely. in this moment, you have something real—something you can build from the ground up.

“we’ll figure it out,” you say, your voice steady but with a hint of hope. “together.”

baekhyun smiles softly, genuinely, a smile that feels like a promise. he leans back against the bench, watching the last of the sun’s rays slip beneath the horizon.

“together,” he echoes, his voice a quiet vow.

you’ve heard the whispers about byun baekhyun over the years—rumors that float through the air like smoke, delicate but undeniable. they speak of his prowess at his father’s investment firm, a place where he moves through high-stakes meetings with the kind of effortless ease that makes you wonder if he was born for this world of numbers and deals. he’s the golden boy of the byun empire, the heir to a billion-dollar fortune, his name passing from lips with a reverence tinged with envy. there’s no denying it: he’s the one everyone admires, the one they all want to be.

women look at him with longing in their eyes, a mix of desire and fascination. the men? they admire him in a way that’s almost reverential, wishing they could command the same kind of power, charm, and effortless charisma. there’s a certain gravity to him, an aura that demands attention without him having to try. he’s everything people talk about, everything they crave—untouchable, almost, and yet somehow, always within reach.

and, of course, he’s heard about you, too.

the heiress to the nation’s largest real estate company. your name is spoken with just as much weight as his, though in a very different way. your company’s worth mirrors his own—both in revenue and stature—but it’s not just the numbers that catch his attention. it’s you. the soft-hearted, kind, and undeniably stunning woman who runs a billion-dollar empire, carrying yourself with a quiet confidence that never needs to be announced. your philanthropic efforts are well known, hosting charity events that seem to shimmer with a light of their own. there’s a grace about you, something almost ethereal, like you’ve stepped out of a dream. people adore you, but not in the way they adore him—your admiration feels real, like it’s earned, not given by default.

he finds that… refreshing. surprising, even. everything about you is more genuine than he expected, and your presence is like a breath of fresh air in a world that can sometimes feel suffocating. you’re approachable, down to earth in a way that makes him pause and reconsider everything he thought he knew about someone like you. in a sea of pristine, curated images, you stand apart—real, raw, and completely unaffected by the shallow expectations placed on women of your stature.

and yet… there are no scandals, no rumors swirling around you like a storm. no messy breakups, no late-night flings or headlines about your personal life. nothing worthy of note, nothing that would tarnish the carefully crafted image the world has of you. you’re the perfect saint—untouched by the kind of drama that seems to follow people in your world.

it’s that spotless record, that pristine reputation, that draws him in even more. you are the perfect package—beautiful, poised, charitable, and yet somehow still down to earth despite the immense wealth you command. it makes him wonder: how had no one managed to sweep you off your feet yet? in a world full of people eager to claim what’s theirs, how had you remained untouched, unattached?

the question lingers in his mind, and despite himself, he can’t help but be intrigued.

as he sat across from you now, watching your parents sign the papers that would bind you to him, the difference between the two of you felt almost like a chasm, vast and undeniable. he knew his own reputation well—a turbulent storm of scandals, heartbreaks, and fleeting, empty affairs that left nothing behind but whispers and regret. it had become his armor, the kind of image he had long since accepted as his reality. but you? you were something else entirely.

there was a purity to you, an almost ethereal quality that seemed to shield you from the messiness of the world. your presence was both grounding and mesmerizing, like the calm in the eye of a storm. every movement, every glance was effortless—natural, graceful—as if you were meant to be the face of your family’s empire from the moment you were born. you exuded a quiet strength, a dignity that contrasted sharply with the chaotic and often reckless energy that surrounded him. you were unmarked by the world’s harshness, untouched by the scandals and drama that followed so many like him.

baekhyun found himself drawn to you, captivated by the way you held yourself with a poise that felt almost unreal. it wasn’t the beauty that caught his attention—it was something deeper, something more elusive. it was the way you seemed untouchable, like a rare and delicate flower that bloomed in a garden no one else could enter. and yet, there was an undeniable pull in that beauty, a force that beckoned him, making him ache to understand the world you inhabited, a world he could never fully grasp.

it was a strange pull, one he didn’t quite understand. there was something about you that challenged him—something so perfectly poised, so untouched by the storms of life that it felt like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. how could anyone resist the temptation to peel back the layers, to see what lay beneath the surface?

but then again, baekhyun had never been one to turn away from a challenge. and you? you were the ultimate challenge. perfect, poised, and completely untarnished by the weight of the world.

how could he not want to get to know you better?

the byun estate hums with the familiar buzz of luxury. voices blend into a harmonious murmur, glasses clink with a soft chime, and the scent of fine wine and expensive perfume floats through the air. you've been here before, countless times—hosting galas, attending charity events, being the face of your family's empire. this world is nothing new to you. the polished smiles, the fleeting conversations, the constant ebb and flow of social rituals. you're used to the attention, to the admiring gazes that follow you from the moment you enter a room. it's nothing you can't handle.

but tonight, it's different.

tonight, the nerves in your chest feel like something foreign, something new. it’s not the usual excitement of orchestrating an event or making an impression; this is different. it’s the kind of nervousness that coils tight in your stomach and makes your palms clammy, the kind that comes with a weight you can’t quite place. it’s not just the eyes on you now—it’s the knowledge that those eyes are on you because you’re engaged. you are now, irrevocably, tied to baekhyun.

you catch yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress, adjusting the delicate fabric for no reason at all, and then quickly stop, taking a slow breath to steady yourself. you’ve done this a hundred times before. but you can’t help the jitter of nerves that seems to crawl under your skin, prickling with the knowledge that this is an event meant for you and baekhyun. an engagement party, the beginning of a future that you never asked for but now have to walk into, with every eye in the room trained on you.

baekhyun has been standing across the room, holding court with a small group of guests. his figure is unmistakable—tall, effortlessly composed, exuding a quiet confidence that draws people in. you’ve watched him navigate the space, exchanging pleasantries, always poised. but when his eyes meet yours, there's something different about it. it's not the casual acknowledgment you’re used to when you’re the center of attention at an event. this is something deeper, something that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second.

and then, without missing a beat, he makes his way toward you, cutting through the crowd with a fluidity that feels almost deliberate. you swallow hard, feeling that strange heat rise to your cheeks again, despite how practiced you are in social situations. it’s not just anyone coming toward you now; it’s your fiancé—the man you’re about to enter a lifetime with, in front of a room full of people, their eyes watching, judging, speculating.

he stops just a few feet away, his smile warm and easy, like he’s just another person in this sea of faces, and yet there’s something different about the way he looks at you. not just out of politeness or social obligation, but something far more genuine, like he’s actually interested. you can feel the weight of his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

"you look beautiful tonight," he says, his voice a soothing balm that helps ground you in the moment. his words cut through the buzz of conversation, making everything feel quieter, softer.

you can’t help but laugh softly, trying to mask the nerves with the practiced ease you’ve perfected over years of public appearances. “thank you,” you say, but your voice betrays you, a little too soft, a little too unsure for someone who has spent their life on stages like this. “it’s a lot to take in, honestly. not exactly the usual type of event.”

he nods, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “i get it. it’s... different, isn’t it?” his tone is gentle, and there’s an understanding in the way he looks at you, as if he can sense the strain of the moment.

you can’t decide if that makes you feel more at ease or more exposed. the gentle way he’s watching you, like he sees past the polished exterior you’ve perfected over the years, makes your chest tighten. this isn’t just a man offering a polite compliment. no, there’s a subtle warmth behind it, something that’s genuine. and that’s what makes your stomach flutter in a way you hadn’t expected.

before you can respond, a voice cuts through the moment—sweet, syrupy, but carrying a quiet sharpness.

“well, well, well. isn’t this interesting?” the voice is sweet, dripping with something syrupy but sharp.

she’s stunning. stunning—like a high-fashion model, her posture regal and her features flawless. her skin is smooth, a deep shade of mocha, and her hair falls in sleek waves around her shoulders, glossy and perfect. the way she holds herself is effortless, a kind of confidence that you can’t quite place, but it’s magnetic. you can feel the tension rise in the air as her eyes flicker from baekhyun to you, assessing you in the same quiet, deliberate way she seems to assess everything.

the woman’s presence alone seems to turn the room’s energy up a notch. there’s an edge to her voice as she continues, her gaze fixed on you with an almost calculating look. "i didn't think the byun men were ones for arranged marriages," she says, her tone too sweet to be anything but sarcastic. "how... quaint." her lips curl into a smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, which gleam with a kind of challenge.

you manage to lift your chin, but her words, her presence, make you feel small. you shift uncomfortably, the room suddenly feeling too hot. who is she?

baekhyun shifts slightly at her words, his smile still intact but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—a flash of discomfort, or maybe something else entirely—that you can’t quite decipher. he takes a half-step closer to you, his hand brushing yours subtly, almost protectively.

“aya, i didn’t expect you to be here tonight,” baekhyun says, his voice tight but polite. it’s clear there’s history between them, something unsaid, but you can’t quite grasp it.

aya’s eyes flicker back to you, and for a moment, it feels like she’s sizing you up, like she’s deciding something. she doesn’t bother hiding the slight sneer that tugs at her lips as she looks you over. “oh, i couldn’t miss the show,” she says, her tone saccharine, the words laced with something deeper. “i didn’t realize the newest member of the byun family would be so... delicate.”

the words sting, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks, heat spreading through your skin as a strange wave of doubt rises in your chest. you glance at baekhyun, but his eyes are fixed on aya, his jaw tight. there's something unspoken between them that you can feel but can’t quite name.

before you can gather your thoughts, your parents appear, pulling you two away, and in that moment, your conversation with baekhyun and aya is cut short. as you walk away, your mind races. who was she? and why had baekhyun’s demeanor changed so quickly? was there something between them?

the questions swirl in your mind, and you can’t shake the feeling that aya is more than just a passing acquaintance. there's something deeper, something personal, and now, you're left wondering just how much you don’t know about baekhyun and the world you're about to be tied to.

three months had passed, and in that time, you and baekhyun had settled into a rhythm that felt surprisingly natural. between appointments with the wedding planner, company dinners, and endless events, your interactions had grown from polite exchanges to something far more comfortable. what had begun as a partnership forged out of obligation now carried an air of genuine camaraderie.

it didn’t take long before your schedules started overlapping even more. casual meetings evolved into dinner dates—just the two of you, away from the scrutiny of planners and business associates. those moments felt different, unburdened by expectation, allowing you to see each other as individuals rather than roles in a contract.

you discovered that the two of you had more in common than you’d anticipated. shared music tastes that had you both curating playlists for car rides, a mutual appreciation for certain foods that turned dinners into culinary adventures, and a surprising knack for poking fun at each other’s humor. you bonded over a love for art, both traditional and modern, and even found yourselves admiring each other’s impeccable sense of style—always coordinated, as if without trying.

the more time you spent with him, the more you began to notice the little things. the way baekhyun’s gaze would linger on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the soft quirk of his lips when he caught you smiling at something, the subtle brush of his fingers against yours that left a warmth in their wake. his presence carried a kind of tenderness, a quiet thoughtfulness that seemed to grow with every passing day.

you couldn’t pinpoint when it happened exactly, but you started feeling something deeper for him. it wasn’t just about finding him attractive—though he was undeniably so—it was the way he made you feel seen and understood, as if you were standing on even ground with someone who truly got you.

for the first time since this whole engagement had been arranged, a weight lifted off your shoulders. the uncertainty that once loomed over you began to dissipate, replaced by something softer, something warm. you found yourself feeling grateful—not for the circumstances, but for him. baekhyun was like a mirror image of yourself in many ways, a male counterpart who complemented you in all the right ways.

as the weeks passed, attending events and parties together became second nature. while your appearances had always been for the sake of optics, they now felt like opportunities to simply enjoy each other’s company in a setting that didn’t demand conversation but allowed for quiet connection.

tonight was one of those nights. the air buzzed with anticipation as you and baekhyun prepared for yet another event, but for the first time, you realized you weren’t dreading it. if anything, you looked forward to it—because he’d be by your side.

the gala hall pulsed with an opulent energy—muted laughter, the murmur of refined conversation, and the melodic clinking of crystal glasses. chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, casting shimmering patterns onto the polished marble floors. dressed in a gown that hugged your frame like it had been stitched with you in mind, you moved through the crowd with practiced grace, your every step exuding poise even as a quiet unease coiled in your stomach.

baekhyun stood effortlessly at your side, his presence magnetic. the sharp lines of his tuxedo accentuated his lean frame, and his posture held a kind of quiet authority. his hand rested lightly on the small of your back, a touch that seemed intimate to onlookers but was purely performative. the two of you cut an impressive figure together—a vision of elegance and synergy.

to the world, you were the perfect couple, a match made in heaven. but beneath the polished facade lay the truth: you were little more than companions caught in a meticulously arranged engagement, each navigating the precarious expectations thrust upon you.

“that you, angel?”

the low, familiar voice broke through the hum of the room, warm and laced with teasing nostalgia. you froze for a moment before turning, your heart skipping as you took in the sight of sehun.

his boyish grin was as irresistible as you remembered, though time had sharpened his features into something more striking. he had grown into himself, his presence commanding yet easy, like a favorite memory brought to life.

“sehun!” your voice carried genuine surprise, a smile brightening your face as you closed the distance between you. without hesitation, you wrapped him in a warm hug, the scent of his cologne instantly familiar, a subtle reminder of carefree days long gone.

“it’s been forever,” you said, pulling back to meet his gaze, your smile lingering.

baekhyun’s hand slid from the small of your back as if retreating from a territory no longer his, though he stayed close enough to watch. his brows drew together in a faint furrow, the only outward sign of the unease rippling through him as your attention shifted entirely to sehun.

your conversation with sehun flowed effortlessly, the years apart melting away under the weight of shared memories. his laughter, warm and familiar, softened as the minutes passed, his gaze lingering on you like he was cataloging every detail he had missed. his words turned personal, each one dipping into a past neither of you had truly revisited.

“god, you still look as beautiful as ever,” sehun said, his voice dipping lower, eyes tracing your figure with an intensity that made you shy under the weight of it. you glanced down, a soft laugh escaping, your fingers brushing your necklace out of habit.

from across the room, baekhyun’s conversation with a business partner faltered. his eyes snapped to you, catching the moment between you and sehun. the way sehun looked at you—like you were something he regretted losing, something he wasn’t ready to give up on—set something off in baekhyun. a flame of something unnameable stirred low in his chest.

sehun leaned a little closer, lowering his voice as if you were the only two people in the room. “so, i hear congratulations are in order,” he said, the casual edge of his tone undermined by the way his eyes searched yours. “engaged, huh?”

your breath hitched for a moment, the question catching you off guard. “it’s… complicated,” you admitted, the truth slipping out before you could stop yourself.

you explained the nature of your engagement, how it wasn’t a grand love story but an arrangement born of convenience and obligation. you admitted you were still figuring out what it meant, how to navigate the fragile, undefined space between friendship and something more.

sehun’s expression softened, but not in the way you expected. there was an edge to it, a wistfulness laced with something more potent. his lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed a lingering ache.

“that’s a shame,” he murmured, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear. “you deserve more than complicated, sweets.”

baekhyun, now standing a few steps away, caught every word, his sharp hearing honing in on the conversation like a weapon. his jaw tightened, the tension in his posture betraying his otherwise calm demeanor.

his gaze flicked to sehun, noting the way he leaned into your space, how his eyes drank in every detail of you, his lingering touches disguised as friendly gestures. it was unmistakable. sehun wasn’t just catching up. he was still in love with you.

and the realization settled into baekhyun’s chest like a stone, heavy and inescapable.

baekhyun’s presence shifted the atmosphere in an instant as he closed the gap between you and sehun, his stride purposeful, his gaze sharp. the moment he stood beside you, it was clear he was no longer just a bystander in this conversation.

“sehun, right?” baekhyun’s voice was calm, but the underlying tension in his tone was unmistakable. his eyes, however, were anything but polite—they were intense, unreadable, and they locked onto sehun with a quiet ferocity.

sehun’s lips twitched into a thin, controlled smile, a hint of something that was more a challenge than a greeting. “baekhyun,” he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes scanning the space between you. “we were just catching up. you know, we go way back.”

“that’s obvious,” baekhyun responded smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist with such ease that it felt almost rehearsed, like a declaration of ownership wrapped in casual familiarity. his touch was possessive, though subtle enough to not draw immediate attention.

sehun’s eyes flickered downward, his gaze briefly tracing the line of baekhyun’s arm resting on you before snapping back to his face. the playful edge in his smile hardened into something sharper, more pointed. “must be nice,” he drawled, his tone carrying a layer of ice, “getting to enjoy the benefits of a relationship without actually having to earn it.”

baekhyun’s posture stiffened, his jaw tightening as his eyes darkened with a dangerous edge. “excuse me?” the words left his lips with chilling precision, his voice dipping in temperature as the air around the three of you seemed to still, the tension thickening by the second.

you placed a hand lightly on baekhyun’s chest, a subtle plea for him to keep his cool, but sehun wasn’t finished.

“i’m just saying,” sehun continued, his eyes narrowing, “some of us actually had to work for her time and affection.” his voice lowered to a soft, venomous tone, dripping with barely concealed disdain. “not everyone gets handed things on a silver platter.”

the words hung in the air, sharp and biting. baekhyun’s grip on his composure slipped just slightly, his arm falling from your waist as he took a slow, deliberate step toward sehun. his hands curled into fists, muscles coiling with restrained fury. “careful, sehun,” he warned, his voice now low, dangerous, “you’re starting to sound bitter.”

sehun didn’t back down. if anything, his smirk grew, and his words came out with a touch more venom. “and you’re starting to sound insecure.”

the air between baekhyun and sehun was thick with tension, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere as the subtle standoff drew the attention of those nearby. murmurs rippled through the crowd, all eyes instinctively moving toward the brewing conflict. your pulse quickened, and before things could escalate further, you stepped in between them, your hands pressing against baekhyun’s broad chest to hold him back.

“stop it, both of you,” you hissed, your voice low, but every syllable sharp and filled with authority. the heat of the moment crackled around you, but you stood firm. “this is not the time or place.”

sehun let out a quiet chuckle and took a small step back, his smirk never faltering, but the challenge in his eyes remained. baekhyun’s gaze, however, stayed fixed on him, a silent storm of possessiveness swirling in his eyes, the tension between them practically vibrating like static.

“i’ll see you around, sweets,” sehun purred, his words dripping with a mixture of mockery and something deeper, before he turned and melted into the crowd.

you turned to face baekhyun, frustration and confusion flashing in your eyes. “what was that?” you demanded, your voice betraying the storm of emotions you were fighting to keep in check.

“he’s still in love with you,” baekhyun spat, his voice low, like a growl that barely contained the storm of jealousy brewing beneath the surface.

“and that gives you the right to start a scene?” you shot back, the words escaping before you could stop them. you could feel your temper rising, and the last thing you needed was a confrontation. without waiting for his response, you stormed off, needing to clear your head.

you found yourself in the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom, the cool marble under your palms grounding you as you splashed cold water onto your flushed face. the chill of it did little to calm the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. just as you exhaled, trying to steady your heartbeat, the door creaked open. through the reflection in the mirror, you saw aya, her presence as smooth as ever, leaning against the doorframe with that calculating smile of hers.

“well,” she purred, her tone heavy with amusement, “you must be something special to have two men practically fighting over you like that.”

you stiffened, not allowing her the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. your eyes locked with hers in the mirror, steady and defiant. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, but filled with a quiet edge.

god, why is she everywhere?

aya chuckled, the sound like the scrape of ice over a raw wound, her lips curving into a sly, knowing smile. “oh, come on. it’s written all over their faces. but don’t get too comfortable. baekhyun has a type, and i’m sure you’re just... temporary.”

her words sliced through the air, cold and sharp, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. your spine straightened, your resolve hardening like steel. you met her gaze with unwavering confidence, every inch of you radiating defiance.

“if that’s all, i think you should leave,” you said, your voice steady, calm—giving nothing away.

for a moment, aya’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she quickly recovered, the facade of sweetness back in place. “suit yourself,” she said with a shrug, pushing herself off the counter and exiting without another word.

you stayed in front of the mirror for a long moment after, your reflection staring back at you, caught between the tension of the evening and the weight of the drama unfolding around you.

you took a deep breath, willing the rush of emotions to settle before you stepped out of the bathroom. the hallway was quiet, a welcome contrast to the storm of tension you had just left behind. as you walked, you tried to collect your thoughts, hoping the worst of the night was behind you.

but when you turned the corner, there he was. baekhyun. his hand rested on the back of his neck, his posture tense as he stared down at the floor, clearly lost in thought.

you paused in your tracks, your heart still racing with the remnants of the tension that had flared only moments before. a flicker of frustration stirred within you, but before you could decide whether to avoid him or confront him, baekhyun’s gaze lifted, catching yours across the quiet hallway. the softness in his eyes was immediate, and for a split second, the weight of everything seemed to settle between you two.

“hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice quieter than usual—almost tentative, as though he were carefully selecting each word. “i’m sorry for earlier. i didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

your throat tightened, the weight of the night pressing down on you, the sting of everything still fresh. you swallowed, pushing down the swirl of emotions threatening to rise. “it’s fine,” you replied, your voice steady but betraying nothing of the tension still coiling inside you. “but i don’t want you making a scene like that again, baekhyun. it’s… unnecessary.”

for a brief moment, his expression faltered, the usual confidence slipping as something softer flickered in his eyes—vulnerability, maybe even regret. he took a slow step closer, his hands sliding into his pockets as if to steady himself, his posture shifting in a subtle attempt to ground the brewing storm between you two.

“i know,” he murmured, the words low, almost lost in the air. “i get it. i was… out of line. i don’t know why i reacted like that, honestly. sehun was… just so obvious. and it was hard for me to watch, watching him like that with you. i didn’t want other people getting the wrong idea.”

your brow furrowed as you absorbed his words, trying to make sense of them. your mind flashed back to the confrontation with aya in the bathroom—her words cold and sharp, but you weren’t ready to bring that up. not now. not when things were already so tangled.

“what exactly are you trying to say, baekhyun?” you asked, your tone steady but pointed, trying to keep your own emotions from spilling out in the heat of the moment.

baekhyun hesitated, and for a long second, his eyes searched yours, as if looking for the right way to explain himself.

he paused, his gaze locking onto yours with a quiet intensity, as though he were searching for something—perhaps understanding, or a sign that you wouldn’t hold his outburst against him. when he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost hesitant, as if weighing each word. “i know i overreacted earlier. but if you have feelings for him—sehun—it’s okay. i’ll understand...i know we said we'd let each other choose and all.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness, the words lingering in the air before you could process them. a moment of confusion passed between you, but then you shook your head, dispelling the uncertainty. “i don’t have feelings for sehun,” you said firmly, your voice steady, though it trembled with the storm of emotions underneath. “i just didn’t want you to make a scene, especially not in front of everyone. neither of us needs that kind of attention.”

a subtle shift occurred in baekhyun’s expression, the tightness in his face easing as his gaze softened. you could almost feel the tension drain from him, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. he ran a hand through his hair, a small exhale slipping from his lips. it was a relief, so quiet and imperceptible, but you saw it—the way his shoulders relaxed and the lines around his eyes softened.

“i don’t know what came over me,” he admitted, his voice taking on a self-deprecating edge, the hint of a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “sorry if i made things uncomfortable.”

you met his gaze, a warmth blooming in your chest as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. the storm between you two was already beginning to fade, replaced by a quiet understanding. “it’s alright, baekhyun,” you replied softly, the reassurance in your voice melting the last remnants of tension. “we’re good.”

the silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t heavy or awkward—it was more like a quiet understanding settling over both of you. still, there was a lingering thought in your mind, a question you didn’t know how to answer: why had baekhyun reacted like that? did he… like you? you tried to push the thought away, burying it deep, knowing the kind of history baekhyun had. you couldn’t afford to think that way. you couldn’t let yourself believe that byun baekhyun might want you—more than just his fiancée in an arranged marriage. you weren’t sure you could measure up to someone like aya, and that thought alone was enough to keep your heart locked up tight.

finally, baekhyun gave a small nod, his usual confidence slipping back into place as the tension melted away from his posture. he stood a little taller now, a renewed ease settling into his movements.

“well,” he said, his voice returning to its familiar warmth, “let’s go back out there then. like nothing happened.”

you couldn’t help but smile, a small curve of your lips. without another word, the two of you turned toward the party, the noise and chatter of the crowd greeting you as if nothing had happened at all. the tension seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by the rhythm of the night continuing on around you. and just like that, it felt like everything was normal again.

you couldn’t help but smile slightly, the tension in your chest finally easing. “yeah, let’s do that.”

side by side, you both walked back toward the party, the noise and chatter picking up as you entered the room. it felt like everything had returned to normal—at least on the surface. the evening continued, the night moving forward, and for now, so did the both of you.

getting caught in a storm on the weekend you both had plans definitely wasn’t on your bingo card. the rain came down in heavy sheets, the city skyline all but vanishing behind a blur of water streaking down the windows of your penthouse. it had only been a few days since baekhyun moved in, settling into his own bedroom across the hall—a necessary arrangement, according to both your parents. they insisted it was time, given how long your engagement had been simmering in the public eye. rumors had started to swirl, questioning how “in love” you two could really be if you weren’t even living together yet. appearances needed to be upheld, after all.

thankfully, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you both had feared. no awkward silences or strained politeness. to your mutual surprise, things flowed easily. over time, you had become good friends, maybe even closer than you’d anticipated, but not so close that moving in together felt natural. it was more of a performance, a shared responsibility to keep the façade intact.

this weekend, you had both planned to escape the confines of the penthouse for separate outings. you were supposed to spend the day shopping with your closest friends, an itinerary of boutiques and coffee stops laid out in your mind. baekhyun, on the other hand, had his golf bag prepped and ready for a day on the green with his buddies. but now, the storm had derailed everything, leaving you both stranded in a shared space with no choice but to wait it out.

“what should we do?” you ask as you scroll through the weather app on your phone, the updates saying there were numerous road closures.

“i don’t think we have a choice but to stay in, sweetheart,” baekhyun sighs, plopping on the couch. “maaaan, i really wanted to try out those new golf clubs today.”

you plop down next to him in the same exaggerated way, “and i really wanted to go shopping in the city with my girlfriends.”

for a few minutes, you both sit there in companionable quiet, the only sound the faint tapping of rain against the windows. then, baekhyun’s gaze begins to wander around your shared home. his brows lift slightly, and a mischievous glint lights up his eyes as an idea forms. “wait… didn’t you say this place has a wine cellar? what if we… raided it?”

you turn to him, your eyes sparkling like he just proposed the most brilliant plan in history. a wide grin spreads across your face. “oh my god, yes. that sounds perfect. you grab a few bottles, and i’ll order room service. pizza sound good? i like mine with pineapples.”

he watches you, momentarily captivated, a thought slipping uninvited into his mind: god, it’s like you were made to be my wife. but he quickly pushes it aside. no, he can’t say something like that. so instead, he flashes you a grin, his voice warm and teasing.

“you’re speaking my language, sweetheart.”

two and a half bottles of wine down, a half-eaten pizza forgotten on the coffee table, and what feels like the seventh round of mario kart lighting up the tv screen—you and baekhyun are a pair of drunken, giggling messes sprawled across the couch. the atmosphere is warm and easy, the kind of buzz that softens edges and makes even losing seem a little less bitter.

“you’re such an ass!” you whine, your voice cutting through the hum of the game as baekhyun nails you with a blue shell, sending your character spiraling just as you were about to secure an easy win.

his laugh is loud and shameless, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he leans back against the couch, basking in his petty victory. “don’t hate the player, baby, hate the game,” he drawls, voice dripping with smugness.

oh, if he could kiss that pout right off your lips, he absolutely would.

the race grows tense as the finish line looms closer. with baekhyun now in the lead, you resort to desperate measures. as his fingers deftly work the controller, you smirk and reach out, clapping your palm over his eyes.

“hey, what the hell! cheater!” he exclaims, laughter bubbling out of him as he blindly mashes buttons.

you don’t let go until your character crosses the finish line in first place, throwing your controller into the air in triumph.

“HA! i win!” you declare, throwing your head back in drunken glee.

baekhyun shakes his head in mock disbelief, his eyes narrowing. “oh, so you like to play dirty, huh?”

before you can respond, a couch pillow smacks you square in the face. you gasp, feigning offense as you grab the pillow and throw it back at him with all the strength your wine-dulled reflexes can muster.

the look on baekhyun’s face shifts—his expression playful but determined. “you’ve just declared war.”

what starts as a volley of thrown pillows quickly devolves into chaos. laughter fills the room as naekhyun chases you around the coffee table, both of you dodging and weaving through the small space like children. you leap over the table in a bid to escape, but baekhyun catches you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you both tumble back onto the couch in a heap of limbs.

he pins you beneath him, straddling your hips as his hands dart to your sides, fingers mercilessly tickling. your laughter comes in breathless gasps as you squirm beneath him, trying and failing to fend him off.

“who knew my pretty fiancée was such a sore loser?” he teases, finally relenting as you lie panting beneath him, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

your chest heaves as you catch your breath, but the competitive glint in your eye hasn’t faded. using his momentary pause to your advantage, you push him back, flipping him onto his back with surprising agility. now it’s your turn to straddle him, your hands pressed to his chest as you grin triumphantly.

“looks like i win—again,” you say, your voice breathy but teasing.

baekhyun blinks up at you, wide-eyed and momentarily stunned. his mind races, thoughts derailing entirely at the sight of you perched above him, your face mere inches from his. if every loss ended like this, he’d let you sabotage him every time.

your gaze flickers down to his lips, plush and inviting. you can’t help but wonder how soft they’d feel against yours, how easily they’d mold to you if you just leaned in.

but then the weight of reality presses in—a whisper of boundaries threading through your hazy thoughts. quickly, you scramble off him, retreating to the floor as you lean back against the couch, putting a safe distance between you.

“boundaries,” you murmur under your breath, though you’re not sure if the word is meant for him or yourself.

baekhyun sits up slowly, watching you with an unreadable expression. he doesn’t press, but the way his gaze lingers makes your heart race all the same. the game continues to play on the tv, but neither of you reaches for your controllers. the moment hangs in the air, charged with something unspoken, something neither of you dares to name.

the tension in the room lingers like a static charge, neither of you quite meeting the other’s eyes. you clear your throat softly, fingers brushing against the switch controller as you pick it up in an effort to shift the mood. “what other game should we play?” you ask, forcing a casual tone that doesn’t quite mask the slight waver in your voice.

baekhyun sits up straighter on the couch, running a hand through his hair as he clears his throat. “i’ve got super smash bros. if you’re up for it?”

you glance at him, a skeptical frown tugging at your lips. “but i don’t know how to play.”

a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his smile softening the sharp edges of his face. “don’t worry, i’ll teach you.”

before you can process his words, he shifts on the couch, sliding down to position himself directly behind you. his legs bracket your sides, and you feel the warmth of his knees pressing lightly against your hips. his arms come around yours, larger and steadier, as his hands settle over yours, guiding your fingers to the buttons on the controller.

the scent of his cologne envelops you, heady and intoxicating, a blend of something fresh and woodsy with just a hint of spice. it fills your senses, clouding your thoughts as his voice murmurs close to your ear. “okay, so this button’s for jumping, this one’s for attacks, and if you press these together, you’ll do a combo,” he explains, his breath brushing against your cheek with every word.

you nod mutely, trying—desperately—to focus on the screen. but it’s impossible when his presence is so overwhelming. his warmth seeps into you, his body practically melding with yours as he leans in closer to point out a move. the deep timbre of his voice wraps around you, lulling and steady, though you barely register the words.

your concentration falters when his hands shift slightly, fingers brushing yours with a lightness that sends shivers down your spine. you lean into him instinctively, unable to resist the pull of his proximity. the way his toned arms feel around you, the sheer size of him encompassing you, makes your breath hitch. his hands fit over yours with startling perfection, like they were always meant to be there.

you try to focus on the game—on the screen, the characters, the combos he’s patiently teaching you—but your attention keeps drifting back to him. the solid weight of his chest against your back, the way his head tilts to the side of yours as he gives instructions, the low hum of approval he lets out when you manage to execute a move correctly—it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

“got it?” he asks softly, his lips dangerously close to your ear, his tone as warm and inviting as the heat radiating off him.

you nod again, though you’re not sure if you’ve actually absorbed anything he’s said. all you know is that you wouldn’t mind losing this game—or maybe just playing forever—if it meant staying this close to him.

the rain patters softly against the windows, a rhythmic soundtrack to the dimly lit room. after a series of giggly super smash bros. matches and a few too many glasses of wine, you and baekhyun have settled into the couch, the comforting hum of twilight filling the cozy silence. the glow of the tv bathes you both in flickering shades of blue and gray, perfectly complementing the gentle storm outside.

your body leans into his, the warmth of his side a comforting cocoon that feels almost natural. the smell of his cologne mingles with the faint aroma of rain-soaked earth wafting in from the slightly cracked window. you drunkenly tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a hazy, soft smile.

“hey, baekhyun,” you slur, hiccup punctuating your words as you clutch a throw pillow to your chest like a lifeline. “i know our situation sucks, but i just wanna say—hiccup—i wouldn’t wanna be in an arranged marriage with anyone else but you.”

baekhyun freezes for a split second, your words hitting him like the crack of lightning in the distance. his heart stutters, heat creeping up his neck, settling high on his cheeks. he hopes the alcohol in his system will serve as a good excuse if you notice. “oh, yeah? and why’s that, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice playful but laced with something deeper, something softer.

you blink up at him, your pupils wide and glassy from the wine. “because…” another hiccup interrupts you, making him chuckle. “i don’t think anyone gets me like you do. plus… you’re like, really, really, really cute.”

the melodic sound of your laughter sends a ripple of warmth through him, and he chuckles, shaking his head as his fingers reach out to pinch your flushed cheeks. “is that right, angel? well, you’re not so bad yourself,” he teases, though his touch lingers longer than necessary, his fingertips brushing against your skin with a tenderness he can’t quite explain.

your response is a soft yawn, your eyelids fluttering heavily as the wine begins to pull you under. “even though...” you trail off, your words slurring slightly, “even though our relationship is all but loveless.”

his smile falters, the weight of your words settling heavily between you. “you think so?” he asks finally, his voice quieter now, almost lost beneath the gentle patter of rain.

when no reply comes, he turns his head to find you leaning into him, your head resting softly on his shoulder, your breathing even and steady.

you’ve fallen asleep.

for a moment, baekhyun simply sits there, his gaze fixed on the serene expression on your face. slowly, almost hesitantly, his hand rises, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. his fingertips linger, as if reluctant to break contact, and he swallows hard as he takes you in.

god, you’re breathtaking. even like this, in the quiet vulnerability of sleep, you manage to steal the air from his lungs.

the back of his hand grazes your cheek, marveling at the softness of your skin, so warm and delicate beneath his touch. he traces your features with his eyes, memorizing every curve and line, every tiny detail that makes you... you. and as he does, a thought strikes him with startling clarity:

was this your idea of ‘loveless’?

because if it was, baekhyun thinks he might be utterly fucked. he leans his head back against the couch, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his heart swells with something he can’t quite name. not yet, anyway.

the door swung open, revealing baekhyun’s mother with a warm smile that immediately reminded you of him. her eyes crinkled at the corners, just like her son’s did when he was particularly delighted. “hi there, love. to what do we owe the pleasure?”

you returned her smile with equal warmth, the kind that made you feel instantly welcomed. “i’m here to help you with the garden,” you explained as she gestured for you to step inside. “baekhyun mentioned he tries to come by when he’s free to lend a hand, but since he’s away on business, i thought i’d fill in for him.”

her smile deepened, a mix of surprise and fondness lighting up her expression. “well, aren’t you sweet?” she said, guiding you through the cozy hallway toward the backyard.

the next few hours flew by in a whirl of soil-streaked hands, shared laughter, and the satisfying rustle of newly planted magnolias settling into their beds. the air smelled of fresh earth and the faint sweetness of magnolia blooms, and the rhythmic sounds of gardening created a peaceful camaraderie between the two of you.

as you leaned back to admire your work, you wiped a streak of dirt from your cheek and grinned. “i think you and i make a pretty good team, mrs. byun,” you said, your voice light with satisfaction.

she handed you a glass of ice-cold lemonade, condensation beading down the sides. “please,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “call me ‘mom.’”

the word settled over you like a warm embrace, filling you with a mix of gratitude and quiet joy. you both sank onto the wooden bench, the same one where you and baekhyun had once come up with the terms of your arrangement. the breeze rustled the leaves around you, carrying with it a sense of peace.

unbeknownst to you, baekhyun stood at a distance, his chest still rising and falling from the turmoil that had gripped him on the car ride over. he hadn’t made his presence known, too entranced by the scene before him. the way you interacted with his mother—so effortlessly warm, so genuinely kind—made his chest ache in the most beautiful way. there you were, sitting side by side with her, your laughter weaving seamlessly with hers, the sunlight highlighting the pure happiness on your face. in that moment, his heart swelled with a clarity that caught him off guard: this was everything he had always dreamed of, yet never believed he deserved.

only an hour ago, baekhyun had stepped into the penthouse, the silence that greeted him heavier than usual. a chill ran through him as he called out your name, his voice unfamiliar in the vast, empty space. the echo bounced off the walls, but there was no answer. his heart rate quickened, unease settling in as he pulled out his phone and dialed your number. it rang once, then went straight to voicemail. his stomach twisted, and he tried again. same result. his chest tightened with frustration, and a wave of dread washed over him. where were you? why wasn’t there even a text?

he moved through the penthouse, each room colder than the last, trying to find any sign of where you might have gone. this isn’t like you, he thought, his pulse quickening. you wouldn’t just leave without saying anything.

desperation clawed at him as he headed toward the front desk, barely able to keep his voice steady. “did you see my fiancée leave earlier?” he asked, the urgency unmistakable in his tone.

the concierge nodded. “yes, sir. she mentioned she was heading to the byun estate.”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut. the byun estate. his parents’ house. no… she wouldn’t… his thoughts spiraled before he could stop them. what if she’s going there to call it off?

without another thought, he dashed out the door, the weight of his keys in his hand, his steps quick and heavy with panic. the drive felt endless, the world outside the car a blur as his mind raced with one horrifying thought after another. what if she went to his parents’ to tell them she couldn’t go through with this?

his hands tightened on the steering wheel, the grip becoming almost painful. what if she changed her mind? what if after everything—after i let my guard down—she realized this wasn’t what she wanted? he could hear your voice in his head, calm and collected, as if you were preparing for this moment all along. i can’t do this, baekhyun. this marriage, this life with you—it’s not for me.

he swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in his throat. no. no, this can’t be happening. she’s not like that. she wouldn’t do that to me… to us. but the thought kept gnawing at him, tearing through his mind. what if she’s already with my parents, telling them everything i’ve been dreading?

the drive felt like it stretched on forever, each passing second amplifying his fear. i can’t lose her, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. i wouldn’t survive it. she can’t leave. i have to make her see that this… that i’m worth it. that we’re worth it.

his thoughts kept looping back to that moment, the drunken night just days ago, when everything felt so right. maybe she was just drunk, he thought bitterly. maybe when she sobers up, she’ll realize it was all just a mistake. maybe she’s already realized it was too much too soon. that she never wanted this—never wanted me.

he shook his head, trying to force the thoughts away, but they kept coming, relentless and cold. i should have seen it sooner. she’s too good for me. she deserves someone who isn’t so messed up. someone who doesn’t have this baggage. his grip on the wheel tightened, the tension in his body coiling like a spring. i have to stop her. i have to talk to her. if she’s really at my parents’ place, i have to go there and make her see she’s making a mistake. i’ll do anything to make her stay. anything.

baekhyun’s car screeched to a halt in front of the byun estate, the tires skimming across the gravel as he threw the door open and rushed out without a second thought. his heart pounded in his chest, still racing from the drive over, the fear that had gripped him momentarily lingering like a heavy weight in his stomach.

his eyes scanned the sprawling estate, the large mansion looming in the distance, its windows glowing softly in the fading light of the day. the manicured gardens stretched out before him, the serenity of the place almost mocking his anxiety. his footsteps quickened as he made his way toward the back of the estate, where the garden bloomed under the last remnants of sunlight. he felt a sense of urgency, like he needed to see you. needed to know you were okay.

as he turned the corner, his eyes locked onto a familiar sight—a wooden bench tucked beneath a large willow tree. the same bench you and he had shared when you first met, your laughter filling the air, the weight of your arranged marriage contract hovering over both of you like a dark cloud.

but this time, you sat beside his mother, both of you engaged in a soft conversation, the tranquility of the garden around you both at odds with the storm that had been raging inside baekhyun’s mind just moments ago. he froze for a moment, his chest loosening as relief washed over him. you were here, safe. and his mother, of all people, was with you.

you looked up just then, your eyes catching his from across the garden. your gaze softened as a faint smile touched your lips, and you greeted him warmly. “oh, hey,” you called out, the sound of your voice pulling him from his thoughts. “i remember you telling me how much you’ve wanted to help your mom with the garden but haven’t had the time. so, i decided to come out here and give her a hand…how’d you know i was here?”

baekhyun couldn’t help but smile in return, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—something that still wasn’t quite settled. “concierge,” he replied, his voice still a little shaky. “they told me you came out here.”

he didn’t say a word about the panic that had gripped him just moments ago, nor did he mention the relentless stream of worst-case scenarios that had plagued his mind. his chest still tightened with the ghost of that fear, each breath a reminder of the stress he’d barely managed to keep at bay. the drive from your shared penthouse in the city to the byun estate had always been a tense, traffic-heavy 30 minutes at best.

baekhyun made it in 15.

you tilted your head, a little guilty smile creeping up on your face. “sorry, i left my phone inside the house. i just wanted to help your mom out here in the garden,” you explained, your voice soft and casual.

baekhyun nodded slowly, his expression calm, though it did little to mask the wave of relief washing over him. you were here—here with his mom, safe and sound. not walking away from him. not trying to end the engagement. the thought eased the tension in his shoulders, his posture softening almost imperceptibly. yet, the weight of everything unsaid lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding, filling the quiet spaces between your shared smiles.

“you okay, baek?” you asked, your voice soft, but the question carried an undercurrent of something more. “y’look a little... shaken up. somethin’ happen at work?”

baekhyun hesitated, his mind whirling, torn between the urge to spill everything—the turmoil, the storm of emotions he’d battled on the drive here, the realization that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want this engagement to be the cold, transactional thing he’d always thought it would be. but the words wouldn’t come. not yet.

he forced a laugh, brushing it off as if it were nothing. “huh? oh…no. nothing,” he said, his voice light, but it was a lie, and you knew it. he could see the flicker of doubt in your eyes as you studied him, but to his relief, you didn’t press further.

before either of you could speak again, baekhyun’s mother emerged from the house, a soft smile on her face. “you two free for dinner?” she asked, her tone casual but warm, the invitation hanging in the air.

baekhyun blinked, his mind still spinning, but he quickly recovered. “sure,” he said, his voice betraying none of the tension that had been building inside him.

you echoed the same sentiment, though your voice was a little quieter, more reserved. “yeah, sure,” you agreed, not meeting his gaze as the three of you walked toward the house.

as you all made your way toward the house, baekhyun’s mind was still spinning, lost in thought. dinner passed in a quiet blur, his mother filling the space with stories of her day, her voice light and cheerful. she couldn’t stop talking about how much help you’d been in the garden, even joking that she might prefer you there from now on instead of baekhyun. the flickering candlelight on the table cast soft shadows across everyone’s faces, adding a warm, intimate glow to the scene. but baekhyun couldn’t focus on any of it. his thoughts kept drifting back to that bench, to the strange, unexpected relief that had flooded him when he saw you there, safe and sound, sitting beside his mother.

and you? you couldn’t shake the way baekhyun had looked when he first arrived, the way his eyes had scanned the garden, like he was searching for something—someone. the way he’d paused, almost frozen, when he saw you with his mother.

you swallowed the thought, pushing it down, knowing better than to entertain the idea. no, you told yourself, he doesn’t see me like that. i’m just a part of this arrangement. nothing more.

but as the night wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder what baekhyun was really thinking. what had been so wrong when he arrived? and why did you feel like maybe, just maybe, the whole evening was off-kilter in a way you couldn’t quite explain?

but for now, you buried it, pushing aside the questions that were starting to form in your mind. you had your role to play, just like he had his. this arrangement wasn’t about feelings. you knew that.

the weeks leading up to the wedding flew by in a blur, each day slipping through your fingers faster than the last. things between you and baekhyun were... tense. not in an openly hostile way—no, you were still good friends, still made time for your weekly dinner dates to catch up on each other’s lives. but there was a subtle shift in the air between you, an unspoken tension that neither of you seemed ready to address.

conversations you wanted to have with him—about your feelings, your fears, and everything in between—remained locked away, tucked behind a wall of hesitation. he was so polite, so considerate, his actions speaking louder than words ever could. every day, he brought you lunch without fail, and every vase in the house seemed to overflow with fresh flowers, their petals a vibrant reminder of his quiet devotion. yet, he never explained why he did these things, and you never asked. deep down, you were too afraid of the answer, terrified that it might be nothing more than a courteous gesture—something he did out of obligation, not affection.

but what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t see—was just how deeply you were affecting byun baekhyun. to him, you weren’t just the poised, untouchable princess of the nation’s largest real estate empire. you were his undoing. he never expected you to mean so much, never imagined that he would crave your presence, your laughter, the soft cadence of your voice, the way he did now.

night after sleepless night, he found himself consumed by thoughts of you. wondering if you ever thought of him too, if you liked the flowers, if you looked forward to the lunches he brought you. he worried they might be too much, too obvious, yet couldn’t bring himself to stop. ever since the day you quite literally fell into his arms at the byun estate, you had taken root in his heart, growing deeper with every passing moment. you were all he could think about, the one constant in his mind as the wedding loomed closer, a promise of something he both feared and desperately wanted: you.

the soft hum of conversation fills the air at the rehearsal dinner, a melody of clinking glasses, polite laughter, and the occasional burst of chatter. the room is a picture of understated elegance, bathed in the golden glow of chandeliers and warmed by the aroma of fine wine. you stand at the bar, the edge of your glass cool against your fingers as you sip your drink. the warmth of the crowd surrounds you, yet it does little to ease the faint nervousness coiling in the pit of your stomach. tomorrow is the day—the culmination of everything that has led you here. still, an unshakable weight lingers at the back of your mind, refusing to be ignored.

you’re lost in thought when you feel a presence at your side. instinctively, you turn, and there she is—aya. her smile is wide, perfect, and practiced, a masterclass in effortless poise. she looks stunning, of course. her gown hugs her frame flawlessly, her hair swept into an elegant style, and her makeup is immaculate, enhancing her already striking features. she exudes the kind of beauty that commands attention, but tonight, it feels almost oppressive, as though her glow casts your own into shadow.

“hi there, mrs. byun,” she says, her voice honeyed but with an undertone you can’t quite place—sharp and deliberate, like the edge of a blade hidden beneath silk. “congratulations on tomorrow. you and baekhyun must be thrilled.”

her words are pleasant, but something about the way she says them sends a ripple of unease through you. still, you muster a polite smile, swallowing the knot forming in your throat. “thank you,” you reply, your tone carefully measured as you meet her gaze. “we’re looking forward to it.”

yet even as the words leave your lips, a tension hangs between you, unspoken and unacknowledged, but undeniable all the same.

aya’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s something unsettling about the glint in her eyes as she leans in, just enough to make the air between you feel charged. “you know,” she murmurs, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone, as if she’s about to share a closely guarded secret, “baekhyun and i... we were together for a long time.” she pauses, her gaze sliding briefly to where baekhyun stands, engrossed in conversation with a group of guests. when her eyes return to you, they’re sharper, like the edge of a blade. “he was always so devoted to his family. so when they arranged this marriage,” she continues, her words pointed, deliberate, “he didn’t have much of a choice, did he?”

your heart stumbles in your chest, confusion and unease twisting together in your stomach. the words feel wrong, their weight designed to settle under your skin and sprout doubt. you take a measured breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “i’m not sure what you’re trying to say, aya,” you respond, your voice steady but laced with a cautious edge.

aya’s lips curl into a small, almost pitying smile, the kind that feels more like a taunt than an expression of sympathy. for a brief moment, her gaze softens, feigning sincerity, as though she’s letting you in on some harsh reality. “oh, sweetie,” she says, shaking her head with a sigh that feels too practiced, her tone syrupy-sweet, “don’t you see? that’s why he ended things with me. it was never about us. it was about his family. about what they wanted. why do you think he was late the first day you two met? he was with me.”

the impact of her words hits you like a slap, leaving a sting that spreads through your chest. your breath hitches, the room closing in on you, walls seeming to press tighter with each passing second. each syllable she utters piles onto the weight of doubt she’s so expertly planting in your mind.

your thoughts race, replaying the memory of that day. baekhyun had been late, his father brushing it off as work. but now, her words weave an unsettling narrative, one that chills you to the bone. could there have been more to his tardiness? had he really been with her? the mere suggestion sends a shiver down your spine, your world tilting as her voice continues to echo, cold and unrelenting.

you struggle to keep your composure, but the unease coiled in your stomach tightens with every moment. aya’s gaze sharpens, her eyes glittering with something like triumph. she knows she’s struck a nerve, and the satisfied curl of her lips only confirms it.

"baekhyun is a good man," she says, her voice laced with honeyed malice. "but he’s always been bound by duty, by what’s expected of him. tomorrow, when you’re standing at that altar, you’ll see—he’s made his choice. but don’t forget, he’ll always be the man who follows orders."

the venom in her words cuts deep, and for a moment, your confidence wavers. you want to retort, to shut her down with a sharp reply, but your tongue feels heavy, your thoughts tangled in doubt and questions you don’t dare voice.

aya leans back, studying you like a predator admiring its prey. her smile grows, syrupy sweet and razor-sharp. "well," she drawls, feigning disinterest as she delivers her final blow, "you might be his bride, but i was his first. and i always will be."

her words linger in the air like poison, and before you can summon a response, she turns and walks away, leaving a suffocating silence in her wake.

you stand frozen, her parting shot reverberating in your mind, sinking deep into your chest. a chill creeps over you, settling into your bones. you try to shake it off, but her words cling stubbornly, wrapping around your thoughts like a shadow that refuses to dissipate.

you don’t doubt her entirely—that’s the worst part. baekhyun has always been driven by duty, just like you. both of you trapped in a web of familial expectations, navigating a path neither of you truly chose.

but lately… hasn’t something shifted between you? there’s a weight between you two now, an unspoken understanding that feels as delicate as it is undeniable. the way his touch lingers when he brushes past you, the stolen glances that speak volumes, the ease with which your lives have intertwined—it’s all there, simmering beneath the surface.

yet, for all the moments that have sparked warmth in your chest, neither of you has dared to name it. the words remain unspoken, locked away behind fear and uncertainty. you haven’t even let yourself truly think about what this could be, too afraid of what it might mean—or worse, what it might not.

then there’s aya’s conversation—sharp, sudden, and cutting through your peace like a thunderclap. her words echo in your mind, relentless and unforgiving, forcing you to question everything. baekhyun. the same baekhyun who had always been known for his flirtatious charm, a man who thrived on the thrill of the chase. you never once thought he would string you along like this—but what if he was?

the possibility coils in your stomach, tight and nauseating. surely, he wouldn’t… right? he couldn’t be the type of man to do that to you. not baekhyun. not the man who brought you lunch every day and filled your home with flowers. and yet, the doubt lingers, growing heavier with each passing second. could he?

the room feels unsteady, spinning around you as you reach out to steady yourself against the bar. your fingers tighten around the cool glass in your hand, grounding you just enough to keep from tipping over. tomorrow is your wedding day. the words sound surreal even in your own mind, a reminder of just how quickly the world feels like it’s slipping away from you.

in the quiet left after aya’s departure, you’re alone with your thoughts—raw, messy, and unraveling. everything you thought you knew, everything you believed about baekhyun, about you together, now hangs in fragile uncertainty.

the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the penthouse, a quiet contrast to the chatter and clinking glasses of the rehearsal dinner only hours ago. the tension from earlier hadn’t dissipated. instead, it seemed to have followed you home, settling like a heavy fog in the air.

you stood in the kitchen, barefoot, wrapped in the soft folds of a robe, the faint glow of the under-cabinet lights casting warm shadows across your figure. the sight of you like this—so closed off, so different from the usual warmth that radiated from you—made baekhyun’s stomach twist. something was wrong; he could feel it.

and then it hit him. the robe. not one of his sweaters, not the familiar fabric he’d come to associate with you over the past few months.

since he’d moved in, baekhyun had made a habit of leaving his sweaters scattered around the penthouse—casually draped over chairs or conveniently left on the couch. part of him hoped, no, yearned, for the day you’d pick one up and claim it as your own. the first time it happened, he’d walked into the living room and stopped dead in his tracks.

you were curled up on the couch, nestled in one of baekhyun’s oversized sweaters, and the sight alone was enough to undo him. the fabric draped over your frame like it was made for you, the sleeves hanging past your fingertips, and the hem just barely brushing the tops of your thighs. it teased him with the smallest hint of the shorts you wore underneath—so short they may as well not have existed.

baekhyun stood frozen in the doorway, his breath hitching as the image seared itself into his brain. he felt his heart lurch, his pulse racing wildly in his chest. you looked so soft, so effortless, and yet so devastatingly alluring all at once. he barely managed to mumble some excuse before disappearing into his room, the ache in his chest quickly migrating lower, leaving him throbbing and desperate for relief.

he leaned back against the closed door, his breaths shallow and uneven, as his hand slid down to press against his growing arousal. the image of you—so cozy, so unknowingly tempting in his sweater—flashed through his mind, and he groaned, his head falling back against the door.

how would your lips feel pressed against his? would they be as soft and addictive as he imagined? fuck, how would you feel around him—tight, warm, and perfect, pulling him in until he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began? would your skin be as silky as it looked, begging for his hands to map every inch?

the thought of you shivering beneath his touch sent a shiver down his own spine. would you sigh his name, barely audible, or moan it like a plea? worse still, did you ever think of him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you?

did you lie awake at night, your hands wandering across your body, imagining it was him instead? his fingers grazing over your curves, his mouth claiming every inch of you, his name a breathless chant on your lips.

baekhyun’s hand tightened around himself at the thought, his breath hitching as he imagined you lost in your own desire, your thoughts tangled with his. were you doing it now? were you picturing him the same way he was picturing you—completely undone, raw, and desperate for something only the other could give?

his chest heaved, the intensity of it all consuming him as he gave into the fantasy, the line between what was real and imagined blurring in the haze of his need for you.

the questions spun in his head, unrelenting, as he cursed under his breath, fisting his cock as his imagination betrayed him further. the thought of your scent mixing with his, your fingers tangled in his hair, the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him—all of it came crashing down at once, pulling him over the edge far too quickly.

but it wasn’t enough. not nearly enough.

he clenched his jaw, his breathing still ragged, and let the thoughts creep back in. he closed his eyes, imagining the way you might whimper his name, the way your body might arch into his touch, the taste of your lips if he finally gave in.

and so he did it again. and again. every time, it was something different. your laughter muffled against his neck, your nails scraping down his back, the sound of his name spilling from your lips as you unraveled beneath him. each thought left him more undone than the last, and by the time the evening was over, baekhyun knew one thing for certain: he was utterly, irrevocably fucked.

and now, here you are in the kitchen. but not in one of his sweaters. the absence was glaring, a quiet confirmation of the distance that had crept between you. he hated how much it affected him, how much he craved the sight of you wrapped up in something that was his. it wasn’t just about the way you looked—it was what it represented.

fuck, you were perfect. and the thought of losing you? unbearable.

the stem of a half-full wine glass balanced delicately between your fingers. the faint glow of the under-cabinet lights cast a warm hue over you, but your expression was anything but at ease.

baekhyun watched you from the hallway, his own unease growing with every passing second. you had been distant all evening, your laughter at dinner feeling muted, your smiles strained. he had tried to brush it off, assuming it was just pre-wedding jitters, but now, seeing you like this—alone, nursing a drink with your head bowed—it was clear something was wrong.

he approached slowly, the padding of his socked feet barely making a sound against the cool floor. “what’s wrong, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle but laced with concern, breaking the silence like a fragile thread snapping.

you flinched slightly, startled by his presence, before turning to face him. “nothing,” you murmured, your gaze dropping back to the wine.

“don’t do that,” he said softly, taking a step closer. “don’t shut me out. not now. please.”

the vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten, and before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling out. “i talked to aya earlier.”

baekhyun stilled, his brows furrowing as a pang of nervousness rippled through him. “you did? what did she say?”

you let out a bitter laugh, swirling the wine in your glass as the weight of the words hung in the air. “she said you’re still the same baekhyun—the flirt, the guy who thrives on the chase. the one who prioritizes duty over his heart. and maybe… maybe you’re just stringing me along, too.”

the silence that followed was suffocating, pressing down on baekhyun’s chest like an unbearable weight. his throat tightened as the words hung in the air, unfinished and unresolved. “and you believe her?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though even the smallest sound might shatter the fragile moment between you.

“i don’t know what to believe,” you confessed, the tremor in your voice betraying the storm of doubt crashing through you. “i feel so stupid. i should’ve known better. i should’ve—”

“stop.” his voice cracked, cutting through your self-reproach with a sharpness that made your heart ache. he took a step forward, his eyes locked onto yours, desperate to pull you back from the edge of the abyss. “don’t do this to yourself, sweetheart. don’t let her words get inside your head."

you shook your head, the tears threatening to fall now, your gaze flickering away before finally meeting his. “baekhyun, we promised each other something the first time we met. we said we’d let each other choose. no expectations. no pressure.” your voice faltered, thick with emotion as you sucked in a shaky breath. “so… i’m telling you to choose her.”

the words hit him like a fist to the chest. his world seemed to collapse in an instant, the ground beneath him cracking as his breath caught in his throat. “what?” he whispered, his voice breaking with a mixture of disbelief and pain.

“choose her, baekhyun,” you repeated, your tears falling now, each drop heavier than the last. “if she’s what you really want, if this is all just some game to you, then—”

“no.” the word came out sharp, jagged, and so forceful that it seemed to stop time itself. his eyes blazed with raw intensity as he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. “don’t say that. don’t you dare say that.”

“baekhyun—”

“i choose you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion, raw and desperate. “i’ve already chosen you. over and over again, every single day. you’re the only thing i want, the only thing i need.” his hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes burning with a sincerity that you could feel deep in your bones. “i love you. not her, not anyone else. you. just you.”

the words hit you like a wave, but the storm in your chest only grew stronger. tears spilled down your cheeks as you searched his face, looking for the truth you were afraid to find, but there was still doubt, still that gnawing uncertainty eating away at you.

“baekhyun… you don’t mean that.” your voice cracked, each word tasting like bitterness and fear. “you’re probably saying all of this because of your duty to your family, your obligation to this arranged marriage. you’re just confused. you’ve probably mistaken convenience for love. you’ve spent your whole life following expectations, following orders, and now you’re just trying to convince yourself this is what you truly want.”

the weight of your words hung between you, like a wall that neither of you could break through. his grip on your face tightened, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek, but there was something in his eyes now, something flickering between hurt and frustration.

“no,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper but fierce. “no, that’s not it. i’m not doing this because of them. i’m doing this because of you, sweetheart.” his forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. “you’re not just some obligation. i’ve never felt anything like this before, and i don’t need to convince myself of anything.”

as he spoke, the tight knot of doubt inside you slowly began to unravel. his voice was steady yet raw, every word steeped in sincerity, and his eyes, filled with something so deep and vulnerable, made it harder to hold onto the skepticism. the warmth of his touch, the way he held you as if he never wanted to let go, all of it made you want to believe him. you wanted to be the one he chose, even if the world had already made that choice for him. you wanted to believe that despite everything—the pressure, the expectations—he truly saw you as more than a duty, more than a predetermined path.

but the fear still lingered in your chest. could it really be that simple? could you truly be the one he wanted, or was this just the pull of something he couldn’t escape?

“please,” he whispered, his voice breaking, the raw emotion in his words almost too much to bear. his hands gripped your shoulders, as if holding onto his last shred of hope. “choose me. like i choose you. please.”

the plea shattered your resolve, and the walls you’d so carefully constructed around your heart crumbled at the weight of his words. a choked sob escaped you, the sound raw and unfiltered, as the floodgates you’d held shut for so long finally broke open. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, pressing you against his chest like he was afraid to lose you, his forehead resting gently against yours.

“i love you, sweetheart,” he whispered again, his voice trembling with the depth of his desperation, the intensity of his longing. “ever since you fell into my arms that first day we met. only you. always you.”

the words washed over you, each one sinking into your soul, filling the empty spaces you hadn’t even realized were there. for the first time, you let yourself believe him. you let the fear, the doubt, slip away, and in that moment, all that mattered was the sincerity in his eyes, the weight of his love pressing against you like an anchor.

“i choose you,” you whispered back, your voice shaky but unwavering, the truth finally breaking free. “i love you, too, baekhyun.”

he let out a shuddering breath, his body trembling as if the very air around you both was too heavy to breathe. his grip on you tightened, desperate, as if he were afraid that if he loosened his hold for even a second, you would slip away. “thank you,” he murmured, his lips brushed against your temple, his voice a soft, shaky murmur as he whispered, “thank you.”

he holds you tighter, as if he’s afraid to let go, and when he speaks again, his face inches from yours, you feel the raw intensity of his gaze as it darts across your features, memorizing every detail. it’s like he’s drinking you in, savoring the moment, as if this is a gift he might never receive again.

“i hope you realize you’ve had me from the very first moment i saw you,” he murmurs, his voice low, thick with emotion. his eyes linger on your lips, tracing the shape of them as if they’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “i…i love you, sweetheart,” he breathes, his words barely above a whisper, but they resonate deep within you. “everything about you… i knew from the start, you were the one.” his words carry weight, a promise, an undeniable truth, as if the universe had led him straight to you, and he’d known all along that you were meant to be.

“i love you, too, baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but full of undeniable truth. “more than i ever thought was possible, more than i knew i could feel.” each word slips from your lips like a secret you've been holding for far too long, a confession so deep, so raw, it shakes you to your very core.

his lips find yours before you can even make sense of what’s happening. the kiss starts soft, hesitant, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile between you. his lips are warm and inviting, a spark that ignites deep inside you, and for a brief moment, everything goes still.

before you can even gather your thoughts or respond, he pulls back, leaving you breathless, only to press his lips to yours once more, this time with a little more urgency. the kisses are quick, almost frantic, a series of soft, eager pecks that blur together in a whirlwind of sensation. again and again, his lips find yours, each kiss a whisper of something deeper, something you can’t quite put into words, as if he's trying to convey everything he feels with the simplest of touches.

and then again, and again, until you’re lost in the rhythm of it, consumed by the intensity of the moment. each kiss builds upon the last, leaving you dizzy with desire, yet never enough to satiate the growing hunger between you both.

baekhyun’s lips brush softly against your eyelids, a whisper of a kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. "i love you," he breathes, the words almost reverent, as if he's offering a piece of his very soul. he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips, each kiss a promise, a declaration that sinks deep into your chest. "i love you, i love you, i love you." the words crack and strain, coming from a place that’s raw and vulnerable, tearing from his chest in broken, desperate gasps. it’s unmistakably baekhyun—his voice, that familiar warmth—but there’s something new in it now, something that tugs at the very core of you.

his arms—strong, urgent—wrap around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. when did they even get there? the thought flits across your mind, hazy and distant, but it’s immediately replaced by the feel of him, solid and steady against you. your body pressed so close you can feel his heartbeat syncing with yours.

his hands slide into your hair, fingers threading through it with a tenderness that feels almost too gentle for the intensity of the moment. he tilts your head back, and his lips find yours again—slow, unhurried, like he’s savoring every second, every inch of you. the kiss deepens, and it feels as if time itself has slowed. neither of you wants to break it, to let the moment slip away.

you respond instinctively, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him even closer, your body aching to feel more of him. his lips trace a heated path down your jaw, grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck. each kiss, each touch sends a shock of electricity racing through you, like your body has been waiting, anticipating, for this exact moment. you’ve been holding your breath, just waiting for him to pull you under his spell—and now he has.

without a second thought, you stumble back onto the couch, the plush cushions sinking under your weight as baekhyun follows, a shadow of heat and intent. how the two of you made it from the kitchen to here is a blur, lost in the haze of mounting desire. it doesn’t matter. not when his hands grip your hips with a commanding firmness, steady and unyielding, like he’s anchoring you to him.

your legs settle on either side of his lap, your bodies pressed so closely that the line between you feels blurred. the hard evidence of his growing arousal presses against your clothed core, igniting a fire that spreads through every nerve. the proximity, the shared warmth, the maddening friction—it’s nearly unbearable. your skin tingles, your pulse races in your throat, and your thoughts dissolve into a heady anticipation that leaves you breathless and aching for more.

you can’t think, can’t focus on anything but the way his touch sets your body alight. the air between you both is thick with desire, and you know there’s no turning back now.

“fuck,” he starts, voice raspy and thick with want, “i’ve been dreaming about this since i first seen you in my sweater, y’know? ya look so sexy in my clothes. probably jerked off at least five times that night at the thought of you.”

a soft moan slips from your lips at his confession, and in that moment, he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his mouth pressing against yours with a hunger that matches your own. his hands trail down your back, fingers sliding over the curve of your spine, pulling you closer, closer still, as if he’s trying to merge with you completely. your heart races, the world around you fading into the background as all your senses narrow to him—his warmth, his touch, the way his body fits against yours so perfectly, so desperately. every movement, every touch ignites something deep inside you, a heat that spreads through your veins, overwhelming every thought, every rational part of you.

nothing else matters—not the day ahead, not the vows you’ll soon make—it’s just him, and the fire between you both.

“s-show me what you’ve been dreaming about, baek,” you gasp, your body trembling as your mind spins in a haze of anticipation. his words ignite something primal inside you—a raw, uncontrollable fire that mirrors the heat building in his touch. the warmth of his chest presses against yours, the erratic rhythm of his breath matching the frantic beat of your heart. you can’t fight it any longer, that longing, that deep hunger that pulses through both of you, an undeniable pull.

“are ya sure?” his voice is low, thick with desire, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt, any trace of hesitation. his gaze burns into you, as if he needs your confirmation to proceed.

you nod, your fingers grasping the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer until there’s no space left between you. “yes, baby, i’m sure.”

with that, he sweeps you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly as if you weigh nothing. you’re helpless in his grasp, consumed by the fire building between you both since the very first time you met. his lips are desperate against yours as he carries you to his bedroom, the world outside fading into nothing. it’s just you and him, and the heat that’s been simmering, waiting to boil over.

he gently lays you down onto his silk covers, and before you can breathe, his lips are on yours again, crashing into you with a hunger that burns through you. his hands move over your body, each touch sending waves of desire crashing over you, making it feel like you’re losing control. your breath hitches as his fingertips trail over your skin, igniting a fire so deep within you, you can no longer ignore it.

baekhyun pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting, the air thick with the weight of the moment. “i hope ya know, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice husky, desperate, “’m never lettin’ you go.”

you smile, your lips curling into something both playful and full of longing. “wouldn’t want ya to,” you murmur before pulling him back in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that consumes everything around you.

the air between you and baekhyun crackles with electricity as his lips find yours again. there’s no hesitation this time, just the desperate hunger of two people who have waited long enough. his kiss is tender yet demanding, a perfect rhythm that matches the frantic beat of your heart. you sink into it, melting against him as if your bodies were always meant to fit together this way. the way your lips move in sync, effortlessly, like a dance neither of you has ever learned but somehow both know.

each kiss feels like a promise, a pledge of everything that’s been building between you. he pulls you closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a suffocating embrace, and you respond in kind, your hands reaching to tug at his shirt. the fabric slides off his shoulders, revealing the smoothness of his skin, the muscles that flex with every movement, and you can’t help but trace your fingers over him, exploring, memorizing.

baekhyun’s hands find their way to your robe, fingers teasing the skin just above your waist before he tugs it off, his lips never leaving yours, as if this moment—the connection, the heat, the growing need—is the only thing that matters. the fabric gives way, sliding off your body with ease, and you feel exposed, vulnerable, but somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

his hands move to your back, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, and you feel the rush of cool air against your skin as it falls away. the vulnerability stirs something deep inside you, but it’s not fear—it’s desire, the kind of desire that has been simmering between you both for far too long. baekhyun’s touch is reverent as his hands slide over you, exploring the curves of your body like he’s memorizing every inch, every contour. his lips break away from yours just for a moment, and you find yourself gasping for air, your chest rising and falling with the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat.

“god, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice raw and filled with awe. but there’s no time to respond, because his lips are back on yours in an instant. you’re left in nothing but your underwear, and his gaze traces over your body like a hungry fire, as if he’s trying to commit every detail to memory.

the tension between you both is unbearable, but you need this—need him, all of him. his hands move to your thighs, sliding your underwear off with slow, deliberate care, his eyes never leaving yours. and when your bodies are finally bare before each other, the world outside disappears completely.

baekhyun’s lips meet yours again, this time with a rawness, a desperation that matches the intensity of your own. the kiss is a perfect dance, one that neither of you leads but somehow both of you follow, giving in to the rhythm of each other’s breath, each other’s touch. his hands caress your skin, the heat between you growing with every inch, every second that passes.

his gaze locks with yours, a look of intent and hunger in his eyes, and you feel your breath hitch in your chest. his hands slide down your legs slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every inch of your skin. he kisses you once more, softly, lingering against your lips, before trailing down your jaw, your neck, and lower still, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses that leave you shivering with anticipation.

when he reaches your thighs, his hands gently part your legs, the touch so tender it sends a wave of heat through your entire body. his lips graze the skin of your inner thigh, warm and soft, and you gasp at the contrast of his gentle kiss against the intensity of the moment. he doesn’t rush; he takes his time, savoring the moment, as if he’s memorizing the feeling of you beneath him, so close, yet just out of reach.

each kiss is slow, deliberate, a soft, wet press of his lips that leaves a trail of warmth in its wake. he moves lower, kissing along the sensitive skin, each touch sparking a shudder that runs through your body. his breath is warm against your skin, mingling with the subtle scent of desire that hangs between you. baekhyun’s lips brush the sensitive area just below your hip, and you can’t help but squirm under the sensation, your body instinctively responding to the way he’s mapping you out, with gentle, teasing touches.

his kisses are adoring, like each one is a silent promise to worship you, to love you completely. his hands gently press against the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer as he plants soft, wet kisses closer to the center of you. the heat of his mouth against your skin makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to continue. he doesn’t rush, though, drawing out each moment until you feel like you might explode with anticipation, your body aching for him to go further, to lose himself in you.

you can't help the frustration that builds inside you as baekhyun continues his teasing, his lips hovering just out of reach, his touch soft but never quite enough. your patience is wearing thin, and the heat in your body makes it hard to think clearly.

“baek…” you whisper, voice thick with need, your breath shaky as you reach out, your fingers trembling as they brush against his chest. “stop bein’ a tease.”

his eyes gleam with mischief, a slow smile spreading across his face as he leans in closer, brushing his lips against yours, just barely, and you feel your pulse spike in response.

“what’s the matter, sweetheart?” baekhyun murmurs, his voice low, teasing, the words slipping from his lips like silk, sending a shiver down your spine. he inches closer, his gaze locked on yours, and you can feel the playful tension crackling in the air. “don’t ya like the way i’m takin’ my time?”

your breath catches in your throat as you bite your lip, the words heavy with desire. “y’know i need m-more,” you pout, your voice soft but unmistakable, your eyes locking onto his with a pleading intensity. “please, baek.”

his smile widens, a flash of something deeper crossing his face—something darker, possessive—his eyes never leaving yours. there’s a glint of knowing amusement in his gaze, and his next words are laced with quiet hunger. “you want more, angel?”

you nod, your chest rising and falling rapidly, each breath shaky with the heat of longing. your body trembles beneath the weight of his gaze, every inch of you alive with need, aching for him.

baekhyun chuckles softly, the sound rich and thick with desire. “whatever my princess wants, she gets,” he murmurs, his voice a low promise that sends a wave of anticipation crashing through you. then, with deliberate slowness, he presses his lips to your core.

one taste of your sweetness, your core pressed against his lips, and baekhyun couldn't fathom pulling away. his tongue glides in long, slow strokes, savoring the tender, swollen folds of your most intimate part, the wetness from your heat pooling in the most sinful way. each lick is languid, deliberate, as if he's trying to drink you in completely, unable to resist the intoxicating flavor that’s all you.

the sensation of you on his tongue has him tugging desperately at the tent in his pants, a rhythm to match the movement of his mouth as he rubs himself with a frantic urgency.

his tastebuds graze the very edges of your trembling skin, teasing circles around the delicate, slick folds, his tongue tracing every inch of your inner thighs as they quiver beneath him, drenched with your desire.

“b-baek,” you moan, the sound so low, drawn out, each breath coming out in a throaty gasp. the sound of your pleasure stirs something wild in him, his blood rushing, pooling painfully in his aching cock. “fuck—just like that.”

your gaze locks with his, eyes glazed and heavy, and he feels like he might collapse. a groan escapes him, his body pressing into yours as he moans against your warmth. “tell me—fuck, tell me what you want, sweetheart. anything.” your body arches instinctively toward him, craving his touch as he teases between your folds, barely brushing against the sensitive bud of your clit. “everything. anything for you.”

“you,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the overwhelming pleasure from his mouth consumes you. every deliberate stroke of his tongue feels like fire, igniting every nerve, and you can already feel yourself unraveling under his touch. he devours you like a man who has known nothing but hunger, each movement more desperate than the last. “want you,” you manage between gasps, your words spilling out like a confession. “only you. only ever you.”

with that, his mouth opens wider, and you slide effortlessly over him, your thighs straddling his face. so close. so messy. his tongue moves with determined force, sliding from the very base of your pussy up to your quivering entrance.

“fuck—” you whine, your hips grinding up against his mouth as he wraps his lips around your clit, dragging his tongue in heated, syrupy circles. it's not gentle, but it's exactly what you need. “don’t—don’t stop, feels too good—”

you aren’t sure if he hears you, hell, you aren’t sure if baekhyun’s even breathing at this point.

“fuck- fuck fuck fuck— baek!” you're slurring your words, breathless and frantic, hands gripping his head as you ride out your high, soaking baekhyun's pretty, pretty face. and he lets you—fuck, he lets you. “shit, feel so good—m’cumming-”

baekhyun is relentless, his mouth and tongue moving in perfect sync, keeping you on the edge as you ride out your high. every flick, every suck draws out more, leaving you trembling in his grip. the overstimulation makes you gasp, a sharp jolt of sensitivity racing through you. you push his head away, breath ragged, as he presses one final, wet kiss against your trembling core.

your breath is still uneven, chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale as you slowly come down from your high. he crawls back up to you, his presence overwhelming, and when he leans down to kiss you again, it feels like he's stealing the very air from your lungs. the taste of you on his lips sends a shock through your body, making your pulse race. for a moment, it feels like you're on the edge again, the sensation so intense that you wonder if you might just lose yourself all over again from the sheer intimacy of the kiss.

as his lips press against yours, you feel the undeniable hardness of his desire, straining against you through the thin fabric of his underwear. the sensation sends a rush of warmth through your body, and before you can stop yourself, a surge of boldness drives you to pull back from the kiss. with a quick motion, you slide your hand down, palming him through the soft fabric of his boxer briefs, earning a soft, breathy moan from him that sends a rush of heat straight to your core. the sound is pure music to your ears.

in one swift motion, you pull the fabric down, freeing him, the air between you thick with anticipation. your gaze drinks in every inch of him, from the long, thick length of his erection to the angry, rosy tip that leaks a steady stream of precum. the slick sheen of it catches the light, making your breath hitch in your throat. he’s impossibly large, and for a moment, you feel a mixture of longing and uncertainty deep in your chest. your thighs instinctively press together, the need building within you, even as you try to steady your racing heart. so impossibly beautiful, even like this.

“you're... bigger than i imagined, baek,” you murmur, almost to yourself, but the words escape anyway.

the moment the words slip from your lips, his dark smirk reappears, twisting his features with that signature confidence you've always recognized. “you imagined me?” his voice is soft, carrying an edge of something delicate that catches you off guard. but within seconds, the tone shifts, his words turning teasing as he adds, "who knew my little fiancée was such a perv?"

it hits you like a wave, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. for a split second, you feel a rush of shyness under his gaze. baekhyun notices the change instantly, his sharp eyes tracking every subtle shift in your demeanor, the flush of embarrassment practically radiating off you.

“aww, don't get shy on me now, princess,” he murmurs, his voice thick and husky as his fingers dig into your hips, possessiveness seeping through his touch, sending a shiver of excitement through you. “i've thought about this—how perfect you'd feel.” the weight of his words hangs in the air as he slowly pushes inside you, his length stretching you in a way that sends raw waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “imagined how tight and warm you'd be around me,” he groans, his breath heavy as he fills you completely. “and fuck, it’s better than anything i’d ever imagine.”

you gasp, struggling to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you overwhelming in the most intoxicating way. "y'feel s-so good, baek," you murmur, your body already aching for more, every inch of you burning with a craving so deep it makes your chest tighten. “w-want more. wanna be filled with you.”

he pulls out completely, a low, wicked chuckle escaping baekhyun as he hears the frustrated whine you let out in his absence, the tension building in your muscles as your legs tighten around his lean waist. his movements are slow and deliberate, teasing you as he presses his reddened, swollen tip directly against the peak of your sensitive clit, each SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! of the contact sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “just look at how drenched you are,” he murmurs, voice thick with both amusement and desire.

“baek—” your voice cracks, a honeyed, drawn-out whine slipping from your lips, shaky and desperate, making him twitch against you. the sound drives him wild, and you squirm under him, the sensation of his precum dripping in hot, sticky streams over your already-soaked folds making you burn with need. “won’t you just put it in alre—ah!”

he doesn’t make it easy, though. baekhyun is cruel in his teasing, easing just the curve of his fat tip past your gummy entrance. the stretch has your complaints dissolving into the sweetest whine he’s ever heard, a sound that seems to echo straight through him.

“hah—there we go,” he grits out, his voice a breathless mix of triumph and relief. his long fingers slide from gripping his thick shaft to grasping at your splayed-out thighs, spreading you wider for him. he makes you do all the work, though, your hips shifting desperately against the silken sheets to take him deeper. “ohhh yeah—oh my god, there we fuckin’ go—”

when your walls clamp down around him unexpectedly, it tears a raw, guttural groan from his throat. his head falls back, neck taut as baritone moans ripple from his chest. “yeah—ya were holding out on me, weren’t ya?” he breathes, a cocky grin splitting his flushed face. “didn’t know it could feel this good. feels like fuckin’ heaven, angel.”

his lips descend in a heady, heated kiss, one that’s more teeth and tongue than finesse, as he pants against your mouth, “could fuck this pretty pussy forever—” he drags his lips to your jaw, his voice dipping lower, “—could fuck a baby into ya.”

it feels like your pussy is utterly helpless, stretched wide around him, clinging desperately to every ridge and vein of his cock. each thrust presses that slight upward curve perfectly against the spongy depths of your core, spearing into your cervix like it was made to reach you. every drag and push paints slick, glossy strokes across your g-spot, wringing out wave after wave of bliss that leaves you trembling.

you were finally, finally being fucked by him.

and it’s overwhelming—maddening in the best way.

“s-shit.” his eyes lock on your utterly wrecked expression, pupils blown wide with desire. he's mesmerized for a moment, glancing down stupidly to see how perfectly you're taking him, even as he feels himself teetering on the edge. his hips falter, stilling for just a second, and you let out a desperate whine.

“baby, why’d ya stop?” you whimper, your hips instinctively shifting against his, craving the friction that was so close to undoing you. “was s’close.”

“fuck,” he groans, his voice tight and trembling, every word slipping out like a plea tangled in desperation. “fuck, fuck, fuck—hah— stop movin’ your fuckin’ hips!” the rough snarl of his words is nearly lost beneath the ragged sound of his breathing. but it’s no use. the way your body clings to him drives him over the edge, and with one final, forceful thrust, he lets go.

his release hits you in hot, thick waves, filling you as his climax pulses through him, painting your walls white with every shuddering beat of his release. the air is thick with heat and need, and yet he doesn’t stop. his movements grow harder, rougher, as if trying to wring out every last shred of pleasure. he’s relentless, his hips pounding into you with a fervor that leaves you breathless, completely at his mercy.

he's hitting that spot—that spot—over and over, and your vision whites out when the pleasure crests. your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body tightening around him as you scream his name, the sound filling the room and tangling with the slick, sinful rhythm of your bodies.

finally, he collapses against you, his sticky skin pressing into yours, the only sound left in the room your shared ragged breaths. it’s a fragile, perfect moment as he buries his face in your neck, pressing lazy, reverent kisses against your damp skin. “i love you,” he murmurs between kisses, soft and breathless, the words spilling from his lips like a mantra. “i love you, i love you.” but before you can fully catch your breath, you feel him stirring again, hardening inside you. your eyes widen in disbelief, exhaustion and arousal battling for dominance. "again, baek? so soon?"

he grins, that signature wicked grin that always sends your stomach into a dizzying flip. “can’t help it, angel. you’re irresistible,” he murmurs before pulling you into a searing kiss that leaves no room for thought, only submission as you melt into him completely.

“you do realize—” his hands slide beneath your thighs with ease, lifting and positioning your boneless legs onto his broad shoulders. the shift presses you deeper into the mattress, folding your body until it feels like you belong to him entirely. his eyes darken, gleaming with an intensity that steals your breath, his voice dipping into a low, predatory growl. “—that i was dead serious ‘bout fuckin’ a baby into ya, right, sweetheart? ima fill ya up so good, princess. want ya walkin’ down the aisle tomorrow with my cum drippin’ down your leg.”

the thought barely registers before reality sets in—you can only hope your makeup team tomorrow is prepared for the aftermath. the lack of sleep will leave dark circles under your eyes, and the blooming hickeys he’s sure to scatter across your skin will be impossible to miss. you already know rest isn’t in the cards tonight. not with the way his gaze burns into you, smoldering with promises that will keep you awake until the first light of dawn.

the soft light of morning filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the room. you wake slowly, the warmth of baekhyun's body pressed against yours, your limbs tangled together from the night. it’s the day of your wedding, but in this moment, nothing feels more real than the feeling of his chest rising and falling against yours. the scent of him, warm and intoxicating, fills your senses, and when he shifts slightly, his lips brush gently against yours in a soft, slow kiss.

“today’s the day, mrs. byun,” he murmurs, his voice low and raspy from sleep. there’s something undeniably sexy about it, the gravel in his tone making your heart race. it takes everything in you not to give in to the desire curling through your veins, the urge to pull him closer, to turn this moment into something far more than just a kiss.

but before you can, he grins, the playful gleam in his eyes making your breath catch. “but first, breakfast,” he says, voice teasing as he lifts himself from you and vanishes beneath the covers, his movements swift and confident.

before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on your thighs, warm and soft, kissing his way up toward you in slow, deliberate movements. the sensation sends a shiver through your body, making it impossible to focus on anything other than the heat of his touch. he doesn’t rush, taking his time, savoring each kiss as if he’s drawing out every moment.

you can hardly breathe, the mix of anticipation and pleasure making your pulse quicken. your wedding day is unfolding in ways you hadn’t imagined, and it feels impossible to think of anything else but the man beside you, lost in the heat of the moment.

you glance at the clock on the wall, your voice breathless as you say, “you’ve got twenty minutes until hair and makeup get here.”

but before you can even finish your sentence, he trails a slow, deliberate lick up your wet heat, and you gasp, your body tensing at the sudden contact.

"how many times do you think you can cum for me in twenty minutes?" he asks, his voice laced with dark amusement, that wicked smile of his making your heart skip a beat. it's the kind of smile that promises nothing good—and you know it's going to be the death of you.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ aaahhh ngl this was pretty challenging for me to write :') iykyk i always portray baekhyun as a clingy lil simp from the start, but this time he wasn’t like that until much later omg. but writing this was sm fun!!!! i hope i did your request justice, nonnie babie <3 i hope u all enjoyed this one 💓💖💞💗💞💖💓💖💞💗 mwah mwah mwaaahhh love u guys !!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites #dividers are by @anitalenia <3

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