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nesepte · 4 months ago

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Hundred Steps | Jaehyun

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem! reader

Genre: soft jaehyun, fluff (he is cute in this), very mild angst, unsaid words, cozy, vinyl record store, music(al), rich jaehyun, but very humble jaehyun, acts of service love language jaehyun, small town, small shop owner, shop assistant jaehyun, first kiss, first crush, coming of age (?), senior jaehyun. Word Count: 6.5k words

A/n: Happy Jaehyun day, my loves! Here is the full fic. This is probably the sweetest fanfic I have ever written. Hope you find it so too! xD

Taglist: @yewshi @kanekisheart @cigsaftersuh

The air was warm against your cheek. The summer had ended but the heat lingered like a stubborn heart refusing to see reason. In front of you beyond the wrought iron gates, stretched the steps to your new life but you stood frozen in place.

Mind can be so fickle, and this restless heart even more so. You had waited your entire life to leave your hometown and move to the city. You had dreamed of this college every night and here it was, ready to welcome you.

But you turned your gaze behind— the city quiet from this height. Beyond the mountains in the distance, amidst the swirling roads that led to nowhere, your eyes searched for him.

Jaehyun…

It was two weeks after your high school graduation. You were working late in your father’s store for vinyl records. Just a few minutes before closing time you heard the ding of the tiny bell fixed atop the door. He stumbled in, trying to frantically shut his umbrella which was dripping onto the carpeted floor. His brown pants were soaked at the bottom and his white shirt was wrinkled at the joints.

‘That’s alright,’ you said and he looked up. Despite the umbrella, his hair was slightly damp and the tip of his nose was red. ‘We are closing soon,’ you told him. ‘If you want to browse, I suggest you come back tomorrow morning.’

His curious eyes darted from you to the aisle behind him. ‘Where is...?’

‘Are you looking for my dad?’ you asked, trying to keep your tone professional. ‘He fractured his leg. I’ll be taking care of the shop in his absence.’

He finally managed to close his umbrella and left it by the window.

‘Right,’ he said, walking into the glow of the dim lamp hanging from the ceiling above the counter. This close, you noticed that his cheeks were red too but it wasn’t particularly cold out that night.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ he said, ‘but by any chance did he mention any Beatles record on hold?’

‘The Beatles…’ you mumbled to yourself and ducked behind the counter to check the cabinets. At the very top, wrapped neatly in a clear film was the record and stuck to it was a post-it that had the word paid written in block letters and a name beside it.

‘Jung…’ you whispered, rising back to your feet to find the light, ‘…Jaehyun.’

It took you a moment to place the name in your head, and when you did, you blurted out, ‘It’s you!’ You looked up at him. ‘You are Jung Jaehyun?!’

Your raised voice had startled him but he replied as even as before, pressing his lips together. ‘That’s correct,’ he said.

‘Get out,’ you gritted out.

‘W-What?’

His blank, ignorant eyes angered you even more.

‘Do you have any idea what you put my father through?’ you yelled, your voice echoing through the empty shop. ‘You have been making these insane demands for those godforsaken rare records ever since you stepped foot into our store!’

You could feel your face heating up, your heart pulsating inside your throat. It was a bad look— shouting at a customer, but you could not stop the words from flowing out.

‘Do you know how difficult it is for my father to find them?! It’s because of you that he had an accident and fractured his leg. He was out in the rain to get your stupid record!’

‘I…’ He stared at you, mouth agape and his face drained of colour. He had shrunk under your gaze somehow. ‘I… I had no idea.’

‘Of course, you didn’t!’ you spat back, the thin record shaking between your trembling fingers. ‘All you rich kids care about is your own convenience!’

‘That’s a harsh judgement to make,’ he returned, though not unkindly.

‘Harsh?’ You let out a mirthless laugh. You could not believe your own anger. The bulb over the counter flickered like a dull firework as the record player in the corner switched to the next song.

‘I’ll tell you what’s harsh. All his life, my father has worked tirelessly in this shop to raise me alone and I have done nothing but kept my nose buried in books so I could get into the best university in Seoul.’

You sighed, pressing your palm to your forehead to control the wretched tears that were pricking the corner of your eyes.

‘This was my last summer before college. My last chance to taste freedom and it’s ruined because of you! I am stuck in this shop, working all day. The boxes are heavy, the shelves are high. I don’t know any of the customers and all they really do is ask about my dad. I haven’t even eaten all day but I can’t complain to anyone without looking like an ungrateful brat!’

There was more you wanted to say but you had no breath left in you. Besides, you had embarrassed yourself enough and you couldn’t risk crying in front of him.

‘Just take this and leave.’ You held out the record to him.

His hand reached out immediately but stopped just centimetres from the edge.

‘Take it,’ you repeated, hiding the hitch in your voice. You did not rush his hesitation— there was no other customer in the shop waiting anyway. At last, when he closed his fingers over the record, you let the rest of your anger flow out of you with it.

‘What?’ you asked. He was still standing at the counter, staring at you. Maybe you had been too harsh but your anger didn’t allow any sympathy.

‘I can pay the hospital bill,’ he mumbled, clutching the record tightly in his hands.

‘There is no need,’ you replied. You could not let your pride take another hit after making a complete fool out of yourself in front of a complete stranger. ‘Just… don’t come back here again.’

You regretted saying it the moment the words left your lips.

When you had first learned of Jaehyun through your father, you had imagined a stoic, old man in his 50s, dressed in an unnecessarily expensive suit with a cigar in his hand and a flashy gold chain around his neck. He definitely seemed the kind with his incessant demands for particularly hard-to-find, expensive records. He liked nothing in the shop.

Pretentious bastard, you had called him.

But standing in front of you was a boy, who didn’t look much older than you. He was careful with the record while stowing it away in his bag, holding it delicately by the edges. Despite your outburst, there was a twinkle in his eyes, one that you recognized all too well— your father had it too whenever he got his hands on a new record.

In the wake of your receding anger, you saw clearly how frightened you had made him but he did not protest again. Without another word, he left, stopping only for a moment at the door but he did not speak whatever it was he wanted to say.

However, that was not the end. He came back— sooner than you had expected.

The next morning was busier than usual. You had to receive a new consignment and the truck that came with the boxes did as little as unload them right on the street in front of the store.

The sun was already up and you were sweating through your shirt by the time you had dragged the third carton inside amidst the sea of cursing passersby tripping over them.

Jaehyun found you sitting on the pavement, exhausted and on the verge of tears again. You had your head between your palms and was about to keel over from your own weight when he tapped you on your shoulder.

You looked up at him, squinting at his silhouette against the sun.

‘Didn’t I tell you not to come back here?’ you said, unable to keep the sharpness out of your tone.

He nodded, his expression unchanged. His eyes raked over the mess you had made on the street behind you.

‘What?’ This time you actually felt the tears fall out of your eyes but he didn’t startle. Instead, he sat down beside you.

‘What are you doing—’

He reached into his bag and produced a sandwich from it. It was homemade, you could tell. He peeled the wrapper back and offered it to you.

‘You haven’t eaten, have you?’ he said.

It was your turn to stare at him, wide-eyed. ‘I— don’t understand…’

‘I made you a sandwich.’

He had it so simply as if that was the most natural thing in the world. He had that air about him. You had mistaken it for confidence but Jaehyun was never too proud. He was just… him. You were dumbstruck and humbled at the same time. There were tears in your eyes again but you weren’t crying anymore.

You scoffed instead, amused. There were people still around you, cussing while stumbling through the maze of boxes; the sun was still shining— brighter and hotter; the drains smelled foul from last night’s rain and here was this boy, sitting on a hot pavement beside you with a godforsaken sandwich in his hand because you had told him last night that you hadn’t eaten anything all day. But the most absurd thing of all was when you actually took it from his hand and ate it, right there on the street.

He waited patiently beside you, not saying a word. He only had one sandwich too— you realized it after finishing it. He asked for the wrapper and shoved it in his bag, then got up and offered you his hand.

‘Let me help you,’ he said.

‘With the boxes?’ you asked.

‘In the shop,’ he replied.

His unwavering gaze was steady on you and he inhaled before speaking. ‘I can be your shop assistant. You do not have to pay me,’ he added before you could protest.

‘You want to work here?’

He nodded his head, his eager eyes searching your face for an answer you weren’t quite sure of yourself yet. For a moment, you saw it— behind the façade of his coolness— his guilt. You did not want to be pitied but he seemed more earnest than arrogant.

‘Do you not have a job?’ you asked.

‘I am in college.’

‘No summer internship?’ You could not help the derision that seeped into your words. And he picked up on it too but he did not budge.

‘It’s only my second year.’

‘I can’t pay you,’ you said in a final attempt to dissuade him.

‘I didn’t ask for money,’ he replied in the same breath.

‘Right… the shop opens at 10 and closes at 9 but you have to report an hour early to help me clean it. Will that be alright?’

‘Yes,’ he replied.

You could not tell your father about him. Jaehyun was a stranger and the shop never had any assistants before. But you needed the help, and he was willing even if it was for his own atonement.

‘So, am I hired?’ he asked.

Sighing, you took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

‘Get those cartons inside,’ you ordered your new assistant walking inside the store.

His reply came after a pause. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

That is how Jaehyun came to work at your store.

Every morning, he was there waiting in front of the shop before you arrived. His satchel over his shoulder and a homemade sandwich in his hand that he gave to you. He listened to what you said without question. When you told him to vacuum the floor, he did. On the mornings you told him to wipe the windows clean, he did. He steered clear of the records. Perhaps he was afraid he would break them. But he did not help you with dusting nor with arranging the shelves.

He was rich, you had realized that much but, in the shop, he acted no more than an errand boy. From carrying the boxes to special deliveries— he did them all.

During lunchtime, you took turns to eat in the backroom while the other manned the counter. In the evenings, he got you coffee from across the street and offered to tally the register while you rested.

You did not speak much, nor did you learn anything about each other that was not necessary, not until that night—

It was past 9 pm. You had closed the shop. Jaehyun was folding the cartons in the backroom and you were shelving the scattered records back in their places. You were almost done too, save for one record that was supposed to go on the top shelf of the closet in the back. You jumped up from your toes to fling it into the thin gap but not even its edge made it on to the shelf.

It's useless, you sighed to yourself after another failed attempt But just as you turned around to reach for the ladder, you bumped into his chest.

‘I’m sorry,’ he quickly straightened but did not move away. His eyes landed on the record in your hand then up at the open shelf.

‘Let me,’ he said and waited.

When you nodded, his fingers closed over the edge. He pulled it from your grip but kept standing in place. You stood there with him, confused.

‘Uh…’ The tip of his nose turned red. Perhaps the A/C was too cold, you thought at first but it was when he leaned forward that you realized why he was waiting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, you cursed inward, holding your breath as you shrunk under him against the shelves. The blush on his face creeped up your cheeks, your breath drained out of you as he pressed further.

But Jaehyun braced himself against the edge and swiftly placed the record back onto the shelf, not even letting the hem of his shirt touch you. You had never realized how much taller he was than you, but then again, you had never bothered to look before.

You were looking then, up at him and back at his face when he found his footing again. He had an earphone in his right ear. You could hear the faint music leaking out of it in the sudden silence that had enveloped you both.

‘What are you listening to?’ you asked, surprised at the strangeness of your own voice.

He took the earphone out and held it out in front of you. ‘Want to listen?’

You nodded but he walked down the aisle and out of sight. Several seconds later, you heard the soft crinkling of a plastic film and the distinct sound of a record being pulled out of its case. You waited as he dropped the pin over it and the song reached you.

The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

Unexpectedly, he found you on the floor again as the notes of the first chorus filled the empty shop. He sat beside you, just as naturally as he had done the first time.

When the record player cracked to a halt, he turned to you. He did not speak, not out loud at least, but you could make out his words. So, when the next night came, you put on a new record in the player— With You by Harrison Storm.

The night after that, he replied and the one after that, you replied to his reply. Every night, after you flipped the sign in the window to closed, you both found a song for each other. To his Dandelion you replied with Sofia. For his Laufey, you had Lana Del Rey. For your Hozier, he had Artic Monkeys.

You sat beside each other on the same spot tucked between the shelves, listening to your conversation echo against the walls. It was easy to slip through that crack in time that you had opened and enter that small pocket of dimensionless space, save for the music.

He tapped his foot against the floor when you replied to his Home with Nancy Mulligan and danced on the night you had played Something Just Like This to his question, Mystery of Love.

It was strange how you knew nothing about Jaehyun yet you had never known anybody that intimately before.

But the summer was ending. In a blink of an eye, three months had passed. You had started receiving emails and thick letters from your college about orientation, dorm rooms, classes and credits. And two days ago, you had taken your father to the hospital to get his cast removed. He was going to come back to the store; you were going to leave for college and Jaehyun… you didn’t even know where he was going to go or whether you would see him again.

You fell asleep on the counter that night after closing the shop. It was humid outside and the A/C was on full blast. It was a restless sleep and you must have been shivering because you felt him drape his outer shirt over you. It smelled of him— warm and sweet, and you groaned, suddenly wanting more. You opened your eyes slowly. He was right there, his face in front of you but your gaze did not surprise him.

He reached out and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. His touch was so light that you thought you were still dreaming, but his warm breath over your lips was evidence enough. His dazed eyes pulled you in and for a brief moment you thought he was going to lean in but when you blinked up from his lips again, he gulped and shook his head.

‘Uh…’ You straightened up too, his shirt falling to the floor behind you. You were sweating beneath your collar, a familiar flush on your face.

‘It’s your turn to pick a song,’ he mumbled. Perhaps he did not know what to say either.

‘R-Right…’

You leafed through the records to find your words. A conversation had ended last night so it was your turn to begin anew. But all you could really think of was Jaehyun… and you, and what if you hadn’t met him like you had. What if you had met him in college. He would have been a senior and you, like every other girl in his class, would have had a crush on him. Then, one day, after gathering all your courage, you would have asked him out. Perhaps he would have said yes, and instead of helping you around the shop, he would have done all those small things for you as your boyfriend.

You found him at your spot on the floor after putting the song on the record player— Those Eyes by New West.

Three minutes and forty seconds. It’s not long, not by any measure, but it was enough for you to tell him what you could not speak that night. You couldn’t recall how long you sat beside him, silently, after the song was over. You didn’t want to leave, not yet.

Then it struck you.

‘Do you want to go on a trip with me?’ you asked, keeping your eagerness at bay.

‘A trip?’

‘It’s just to get a record from the next town. Don’t say it,’ you warned, expecting a taunt about it but it never came. Instead, he smiled his dimpled smile and nodded his head.

‘We’ll have to take the bus,’ you told him, testing his resolve.

‘Alright.’ He nodded his head.

‘We will have to leave at 5 am.’

‘Okay.’

‘You might get bored,’ you told him.

He paused— the dimples on his cheeks deepened. ‘Then let’s get bored together.’

The morning was silent and still blue. You reached the bus stop before Jaehyun, who came a minute after. There was no sleep in his eyes, nor any hint of exhaustion. If anything, he looked as lively as the birds singing in the trees behind you.

‘Did you walk here?’ you asked.

‘It wasn’t that far,’ he replied and you realised you didn’t even know where he lived.

‘What’s that for?’ You pointed at the film camera that was hung around his neck.

‘Oh, this is…’ He looked down at the camera, running a hand through his hair. ‘In case I find something beautiful today.’

You and Jaehyun sat near the end of the bus— him by the aisle and you at the window seat. The ride was short, or so it felt (you fell asleep quickly into it and woke up when the sun was up and your destination was two stops away). If he was bored, he didn’t complain, nor did you feel him stir beside you.

‘Here,’ he said, taking out a wrapped sandwich and a small box of chocolate milk from his bag. ‘Why are you smiling?’

You took the sandwich from his hand and unwrapped it. ‘Why do you bring me a sandwich every day?’ You knew the answer already but you wanted him to say it.

There was a shy smile on his face and he fumbled before speaking. ‘That night…’ he started, ‘you said you hadn’t eaten all day.’

You were grateful that he turned his pointed gaze away from you because you could feel your face heating up. Pressing his lips together, he offered you the carton of milk with both hands.

‘I don’t like chocolate milk,’ you lied and pushed the box towards him. ‘Why don’t you finish this?’

He sighed, looking disappointed but took the box nonetheless.

In the soft light of the morning sun, even the town’s chaos seemed peaceful. Amidst the sudden swarm of running children, Jaehyun pulled you close by the elbow— you were about to bump into a child, who was scampering to find his way around your legs.

‘Do you know where to go?’ he asked.

‘Hm?’ It was hard to focus when he was that close to you.

‘The way to the shop…’ he repeated.

‘Right,’ you said, pulling away to conceal the beat of your thumping heart. ‘Straight down this road and right at the intersection.’

‘Alright then,’ he said, cheerily, ‘lead the way.’

The shops were only just waking up, delivery trucks lining the streets. In the distance, you could hear the ocean, calm that morning except for the occasional thrash of the waves which marked its presence.

‘Where do you live?’ you blurted out without thinking. The question must have caught him off-guard too. He jerked his head in your direction, pausing for a bit before answering.

‘My parents’ home is in our town,’ he said. ‘But I go to college in Seoul.’

‘Oh, which one?’ you asked. ‘My university is also in Seoul.’

‘I know,’ he replied but did not answer your question.

You could see the ocean in the distance now, merging into the sky beyond the intersection. The cars looked as if floating on water as they sped off in either direction.

‘I am sorry,’ you said.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What for?’

‘For shouting at you that night.’

‘It’s alright.’ He shrugged. ‘If someone was making my father work that much, I would have been angry too.’

That was Jaehyun— easy and uncomplicated. He had managed to put your mind at ease so simply that he made you question your own apology. You nodded, not sure whether grateful or humbled but whatever it was, you knew it was real, the feeling anchoring itself inside your heart.

When you reached the store, he stayed outside. The store owner had already laid the record out for you. It was a rare 12-inch record wrapped in a gatefold sleeve. You replayed your father’s instructions in your head as you picked it up for inspection. You held it up to the sun for signs of scratches or scruffs along the fine grooves. There were none. The label was authentic and so were the markings at the back.

You lowered the record and your gaze fell on Jaehyun, standing outside the store window. He had his hand on his camera and his eyes on you. The sun must have been burning his back— he was standing so still but he did not move.

You jerked your chin up in question but he shook his head and turned away. You had seen that look before on him before, several times in the last three months. It was either in those early hours of morning when he would report to work or later during the slow evenings just before closing time. You had never questioned it. It wasn’t your place. But you had realized as much that it was always when he was staring at you.

‘Did you get it?’ Jaehyun asked once you were outside.

‘Hm,’ you replied, tapping your bag and sighed, ‘We still have the afternoon to kill before the evening bus.’

‘What do you want to do?’

‘There is a lighthouse here,’ you said. ‘Do you want to go see it?’

‘Yes,’ he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

You retraced your steps back to the intersection and turned left this time, towards the sea and to the lighthouse that stood down the stony promenade. It was painted in striking red with a set of staircases leading up to the cabin at the top. The sea behind it was a stark blue in contrast, endlessly spilling over the horizon.

You sat on the edge of the walkway, your feet dangling over the breakwater rocks below you. You leaned back on your palms and breathed a sigh. The clouds overhead had overshadowed the sun and the salty wind had turned cold.

‘What are you doing?’ you asked.

Jaehyun had torn a page from a notebook in his backpack and was folding it up into a shape.

‘Making a boat,’ he replied with a child-like giggle.

‘A boat?’ You laughed. ‘For the ocean?’

‘Mhm.’ He had his eyes set on the paper he had laid out beside him. ‘See?’ he chimed up, holding the paper boat up to your face. ‘But the question is whether it will reach the ocean or not.’

The rocks were blocking the water and the aim had to be perfect. You got up with him, taking a step back to witness what you could already tell would be a failed venture. He angled the front of the boat towards the water like a plane and shot it like a dart towards it only for it to land right in front of your feet.

‘Here, let me try,’ you said and picked it up. You held it from the bottom and aimed it further away. It flew a few inches but landed in a small crevice between the boulders below.

‘Jaehyun!’ You shrieked.

Jaehyun had practically flung himself down the pavement to the slippery rocks, his hands still holding onto the edge.

‘Careful…’

‘I am fine,’ he shouted back above the sound of the waves just a few metres away from him.

‘Just throw the boat from there,’ you shouted back as you saw him scrambling back up to you with the boat still in his hand.

‘What’s the fun in that?’

‘You are insane, you know that?’

He smiled and shrugged.

The boat was crumpled beyond hope. With a quiet sigh, Jaehyun tore another page and made a longer, sleeker shape this time only to fail again. You tried different angles, shapes, even places. At one point, Jaehyun even took a running start and hurled the boat forward, but it always fell short of the shoreline, sometimes by mere inches.

By afternoon, a few children returning from school had joined your futile pursuit. While you kept folding new boats, you could hear Jaehyun behind you— scolding them in an attempt to keep them away from the edge.

At last, exhausted, you both plopped down.

‘Should we just give up?’ you asked. The wind wasn’t in your favour and the clouds were shifting again. You saw his shoulders slump further with a sigh as his gaze fell over the pile of the failed paper boats.

‘You look disappointed,’ you remarked.

You wanted to laugh and perhaps you did too because his dejected frown quickly twisted into an offended scowl. Why was he so disappointed over a silly boat. That boy really was mad. And, maybe you were too, because before you even realized it, you were grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

‘Come on, get up,’ you said, picking out the very first boat he had made from the pile. ‘We are going to get your damn boat into the water.’

The paper had dried hard but it was not torn. If it landed correctly, it could still float. You straightened out its crumpled edges, making the perfect cone at the top to balance its weight and took the position at the edge.

‘Careful.’ He tightened his grip on your hand.

‘I’m fine,’ you told him. ‘Just hold on tightly me.’

He braced his foot against yours as you leaned forward with his support. His fingers stiffened and his other hand grasped your elbow tightly but he gave you enough room to safely incline yourself over the rocks.

‘A little more.’

It took him a second to loosen his hold to let you lean further over the edge. You were focused on the angle, your eyes fixed on the pattern of the crashing waves. You counted the seconds in between. One more. You had to wait for just one more.

‘Now,’ you said. Jaehyun let go of your hand. You shot the boat towards the receding tide in the fraction of a second before he yanked you back into his arms.

This time the ocean accepted it, pulling the little devil inwards with its current.

‘It’s in the water,’ he said.

You had expected more of a celebration after the hours you both had spent on it. But perhaps the feel of his pounding heart beneath your palm was evidence enough of his triumph and the smile on his face was your reward.

‘It’s in the water,’ you echoed, amused at your own joy.

The evening bus was right on schedule and you barely made it back to the stop in time. The sun was setting in the distance. It was time to go back. You glanced back, as if hoping you could catch a final glimpse of the boat that you’d set afloat in the ocean together but it was gone.

The bus was packed yet quieter somehow. Jaehyun pulled a juice box from his bag for you and as you sipped on the bitter taste of farewell, your eyes swelled with tears. This really was the end— the last night of the dream that the summer had pulled you into.

Tomorrow, Jaehyun would be gone.

And so, you held on, as tightly as you could. You closed your eyes and let the setting sun lull you into one final sleep. He was still there, and you weren’t going to let tomorrow ruin that.

‘It is your turn to pick the song tonight,’ you turned to him.

His dazed eyes focused on yours then took out the earphones from his bag and gave one of them to you. It took him a while to find the song on his phone.

The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

Why did he choose that song? It was the very first you had both listened to together. Perhaps that was his closure.

It was still early when you reached your town but the bus stop was empty save for the passengers who got down with you. Jaehyun had offered to walk you back to your house but you had refused.

You pointed to the camera around his neck. ‘You didn’t take any pictures today.’

He remained silent, but you could see his mind working behind his eyes. He was perfectly still but he seemed restless somehow and you couldn’t tell why the same impatience was seeping into you as well.

‘Didn’t find anything beautiful to click?’ You tried to break the tension his silence had caused. The street lamp above you flickered for a brief moment before settling down.

‘I did,’ he said at last, his voice not above a whisper but his smile had returned— the shy one. In the same breath, he raised the camera to his eyes and snapped a picture of you.

You are not sure how long you stood there, arrested in place by the flash but you were sure of one thing then— you had to ask him the question that had been poking at you since last night.

‘Will I see you again?’

His relaxed smile irked you. Why was he so calm?

Silently, he unhooked the chain that he wore around his neck. You had seen it before but as he pulled it away, you saw a pendant hanging at the end. It was a small silver record complete with its grooves.

He took your hand and placed it in your palm, closing your fingers over it. He leaned in close, as if whispering a secret to you.

‘On the day you climb a hundred steps, close your eyes, hold out this pendant in front of you and say my name. That’s when you’ll see me again.’

You looked up at him, confused, but he had already let go of your hand.

‘Promise me, you will remember this,’ he said. He was pulling away but his eager eyes were waiting for your answer. ‘Promise me.’

‘I will,’ you managed before he left.

That was two weeks ago and the last time you saw Jaehyun.

Nothing had moved around you— the wrought iron gates still stood; the people still walked by. The air was still warm and the college was still waiting.

Pulling the strap of your bag up your shoulder, you dragged your gaze back to your new life. One step after the other, you walked till you reached the base of a steep climb.

This entrance was reserved for freshmen. For a moment you wondered whether it was some sort of a prank set up by the seniors because in front of you was a seemingly endless set of steps stretching to a top you couldn’t even see from where you stood.

Just then, a boy next to you groaned. ‘Why are there a hundred steps here?’

You heard a breathy laugh next. ‘Funny you say this. It’s exactly a hundred steps here.’

A hundred steps…

You had started climbing the steps alongside them, your ears perked up at their conversation.

‘What do you mean?’ the first one asked.

‘It’s tradition,’ the other one replied, catching up to him. ‘Freshmen are supposed to climb a hundred steps on their first day of college for good luck.’

‘What did you just say?’ You suddenly turned to them, making them jump up.

The two boys exchanged a confused glance before looking back at you.

‘I am sorry,’ you quickly added, seeing their startled expression. ‘The steps…’

The shorter one nodded his head. ‘Yes, it’s a freshmen tradition—’

‘No,’ you cut him off. ‘Are there exactly hundred steps on this staircase?’

‘Y-Yes,’ he stammered.

Jaehyun’s words rushed to the front of your mind— on the day you climb a hundred steps…

It was the strangest thing that he had said that night. You had turned his words over in your head a thousand times, wondering if you had misheard him or missed something between the lines.

But here they were, quite literally, a hundred steps in front of you.

Heart hammering inside your chest, you quickly counted the steps you had already climbed— 24— before turning around and breaking into a run. You could feel the pendant burn inside your pocket as you rushed up the stairs, two at a time.

Your legs burned with the strain it took to push yourself up the incline, each step more demanding than the last.

This is ridiculous, you thought. This isn’t a fairytale. How would he even know about this.

But the rising questions melted away in the face of what was pulling you up.

Your breaths turned into short gasps, making your pounding heart thud against your ears, drowning out everything else. Your lungs ached for air, but you did not stop. If he was really waiting at the top, you didn’t want him to wait for too long.

One after the other, you kept going, slower when you couldn’t anymore, but not stopping until the top finally came into view.

Still panting, you reached for the pendant in your pocket, your other hand pressing against the stitch in your stomach. The silver record dangled from the chain as you held it out in front of you, the tiny grooves reflecting the sunlight.

You closed your eyes, and whispered his name like a prayer— it felt like magic anyway.

‘Jaehyun.’

The leaves above you rustled in the soft wind that had caught you. The birds were chirping too. There was a dull chatter somewhere in the distance and the soft curses of the students asking you to move. But you could not bring yourself to open your eyes yet.

God, this is so stupid. You were sure you looked deranged to others. The possibility crossed your mind too. What if he had meant his words to be something else. What if you had not paid close attention to what he had said. Ugh. Why couldn’t he have just said what he wanted to?!

But then you heard it— him.

‘What took you so long?’

You smiled first, then opened your eyes. He was standing right before you, his dimples etched on his cheeks. His hand closed over yours, pulling the pendant to himself, and you with it.

‘I am sorry, I am late,’ you said.

There he was, your senior in college, the dream within your grasp. Just like every other girl in his class must have, you had a crush on him too.

‘Do you…’ The words caught in your throat. The fantasy was easier than reality. But you had not just climbed a hundred steps to shy away.

‘What is it?’

Gathering all the courage in your heart, you asked, ‘Do you want to get a cup of coffee?’

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling like they did the first time you had seen him. His smile grew wider barely leaving space for the dimples on his cheeks. He wrapped his arm around your waist, hesitantly at first then bolder when you followed his lead. The tip of his nose had turned red but his bashful gaze remained fixed on you. He held your face in his hands and pressed his lips over yours ever so sweetly like he had been waiting to do so for an eternity.

‘I would love to,’ he whispered and kissed you again.

The End.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #jaehyun fluff #jung jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun imagines #nct jaehyun #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #jaehyun nct #nct 127

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ahhnini · 7 months ago

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FLUFFTOBER 2024 - 10.26 rafe cameron

spooky movie night!

flufftober masterlist

you cuddle up close to rafe, sprawling the thin orange blanket over the two of you. he wraps and arm around your waist and brings you closer to his body, before reaching for the remote and playing start on your first movie of the night.

you set up an air mattress in the living room, as the couch was too small to hold the both of you, and you wanted to get an equal view of the tv screen. you weren’t a fan of horror movies, but being with rafe made them more bearable.

he’d insisted the night would kick off with scream, stating that its a classic, and you tried your best to not hide under the covers, knowing rafe would tease the hell out of you.

you gasped at one particular jumpscare, and he held you closer, kissing your shoulder. unfortunately you were a bit shaken up after that.

to distract yourself, you sat up, making your way to the actual couch, grabbing the bowl of uneaten popcorn and holding it to your lap, staring at it. you hear some shuffling, and you look to see rafe staring at you with teasing eyes. “scared?” you frantically shake your head, “no, I wanted a snack,” you shrug, shoving a piece of popcorn in your mouth, “you’re lying, I haven’t heard any chewing coming from there,” you let out a breath, lips forming into a pout.

“come here,” he shoves the blanket away, opening his arms for you to come back down to the mattress. you hesitate, slowly putting the popcorn bowl back on the coffee table, and crawling onto the “bed.” he wraps his arms around you again, tighter this time, and he whispers in your ear, “if ghostface was ever real, he wouldn’t be able to get past me,” you lightly scoff at his playfulness, holding onto his arm.

he paused the movie, “okay—we don’t have to watch this, I know how scared you get. here,” he exits outside of the streaming service, putting on coraline instead. you smile as the film began playing, both of you enjoying each other’s company—and coraline’s—for the rest of the evening.

taglist - @maybankslover @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

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star-suh · 5 months ago

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Happy-ly Ever After: The Spa

Ricky Shen x Male Reader

an: last part of the happy spa trilogy, also i became lazier so i won't be writing content warnings anymore 😭

—

yn hasn’t had sex for a long time due to university assignments so when the opportunity appears, he takes it but first he has to get ready for the occasion. he decides to visit a famous spa that is said to have the most pretty and gorgeous people in the world. “i have to make sure if that’s true” he mutters while locking the front door.

the bell on the door rings, alerting the receptionist that someone just arrived, “hey hello, my name is matthew, how can i help you today?”. “hello, i want a massage and some uhmm… depilation.. y-you know where” yn says embarrassed. matthew lets out an almost quiet laugh, “sure buddy, let me guide you to the locker rooms so you can change your clothes and then go to this room” he hands him a card with a number on it, “enjoy” he smiles at yn.

yn nervously awaits for the person who’s gonna service him when the door creaks open, revealing a tall and handsome guy. “good afternoon, my name is ricky and i’m gonna be in charge of you for the rest of the day” he confidently says, “so a massage and a depilation.. wax?” his question being responded with a little yeah from the client.

the massage started, ricky made sure to put enough body oil so the movements of his hands were smooth, pressing the right pressure spots, relieving yn from the stress.

“how are you feeling mr. ln?” the masseur’s hands kneading the skin as if it were bread dough, moans coming out of his mouth “it feels so good mr.” he praises “the best feeling. i feel as if i’m on top of a fluffy cloud”. yn completely relaxes on the mattress, his body glistening with the yellow and white lights around the room. “okay, time for waxing” unexpectedly ricky slaps yn’s ass making him gasp in surprise, “what?” he says looking around. “you asked for it, ricky pulls out the card matthew gave yn before, a massage and a depilation you know where” ricky hides the card on his pant’s pocket, “the wax is ready man, so sit on all fours or whatever position your comfortable, what matters is that your ass is wide open for me to do a good job”. ‘why’s he smiling like that? yn thought, ‘he seems like he enjoys this type of work’. yn obeys but he just sits with his legs on each side of his body, near the mattress edge, his ass wide open and hole visible for ricky who makes a wow with his mouth and bit his lower lip.

he starts spreading the wax with a device that leaves a thin film of it on yn’s ass, ricky just needs to peel it and ta-dah the hair is gone. he continues repeating the process all over yn’s ass until it’s completely smooth, “something special for tonight?” ricky asks, sensing the reason for the waxing. but yn was too embarrassed to answer, after all he has his ass in front of an unknown’s face. “tough crowd huh” ricky murmurs, continuing doing his job. yn hears when ricky puts the device on a table near them and think he can go already but ricky’s hand grips his left ass cheek hard stopping him from stepping outside the massage bed, “i’m not done with you mr., it’s the turn of your hole to be waxed” despite his smile yn could sense ricky was getting annoyed by his actions. ‘don’t worry yn this is just the last part’ he says in his mind and as if ricky had read his thoughts he mutters an ‘it’s not the last part’.

yn’s hole clenches on air while being smeared on the wax, this time ricky was using his hands, with gloves of course, he then peels the film of wax in little chunks until it’s gone completely, once again repeating the process until all is clean and smooth. at this point yn has given up, he was now face down ass up, his hole clenching right in front of ricky’s face, “look who’s being cute all of a sudden” ricky pours some cream on his hand and smears it on yn’s ass, he starts to pretend as if the hole was yn’s face, talking to it. sometimes his hand slips right above the pulsating hole disguised as accidental touches, “sorry” he mutters everytime it happens. yn was getting aroused, the same as ricky, who’s bulge started to appear on his silky pants. yn’s dick gets hard, the mere thought of someone as hot as ricky doing those types of things to his hole clouds his mind. ricky blows air from his mouth directly to yn’s hole, it clenches on it. as if he was being hypnotized ricky slowly moves his face closer against the other, whispering sweet nothings to it, his mouth opens, it was watering, eager to taste that ring of muscles. finally his wet tongue mets with it, he licks a strip from his balls to his hole, “fuck” he couldn’t hold it anymore, latching his lips on the needy hole, draggin’ his tongue around and inside it, ravaging it completely. “mr. rickyyy” yn tried to push his head away from him but to no avail, ricky just replied with a moan indicating that he wasn’t planning to stop. the masseur’s hand grabs yn’s dick and closes around it, moving it up and down, “look at you, already dripping” ricky mentions when he touches yn’s wet tip, precum dripping of it, he use it to slick the shaft and make it more pleasurable for yn.

yn leaned on his back and holded his legs, knees near his chest so ricky could keep doing wonders with his tongue, “why are y-you doing this?” yn asked, curiosity getting the best out of him but ricky responded with a simple “it’s my job, i have to make sure i did it well. not a single hair so i think i did a good one” he winked and resumed his rimjob.

minutes passed and ricky has still his face buried on yn’s ass but this time he was jerking off too, pulling his pants and underwear down enough to pull his dick out. “just put it in already, please” yn begged, he wanted to feel something bigger and thicker, ricky’s tongue was not enough for him. “what about your date from later at night?. thought you were doing this for them?”, ricky rubs the puckered hole with two fingers then introduces them and moves them in a scissors motion to open it more, “i don’t care just do it” tears threatening to spill, overwhelming feelings taking over him. “say less”.

ricky’s thick cock pummels its way, its big head opening his walls so deliciously that yn moaned loudly, asking for more, the veins around the cock scrapping yn’s walls so damn good. “ufff tonight’s situation gonna eat good” ricky jokes, positioning his hands on yn’s shoulders to pound harder. the bed moved in a rhythmic pace, squeaking caused by every thrust. “you fuck so good” yn praises, driving ricky even wilder. he discards hispants completely, his bottom half completely naked. he lies down on the bed too and position yn on his side, slapping his shaft on the other’s back entrance, “ready?” he asks, “yeah” yn responds quickly. “i’m not gonna hold back” ricky adds, “i don’t give a fuck”.

his balls slapped against the other while still shoving his dick, “i’m not gonna stop until your ass remembers the shape of my dick and would only accept mine, no one else's. sorry for your situationship”. ricky bites yn’s ear and then lick the back of his neck. yn manages to be on top this time to ride his masseur, with his hands on each side of his hips, guiding him, “you like it mr. ricky?” he sits hard “am i your best client yet” yn says pouting, with doe like eyes that immediately rolled back when ricky hit on his sweet spot, his tip scraping around it, the pleasure expanding throughout his whole body. ricky likes how feisty yn tried to be, “yes mr. ln you’re the best cockwhore i’ve ever had”. yn stops the riding session, he just sits with ricky’s dick still inside, he starts to move his hips and hump on him with all the strength left on him, this caused his hole and therefore insides to contract so tight that ricky came instantly. yn’s inside being flooded by ricky’s sticky spooge, the liquid went down ricky’s shaft and balls, dripping on the mattress, ricky gasped for air, still holding yn’s hips while riding his high, “fuck this was indeed the best fuck. i’ve never had someone to make me cum so easy” ricky praises, he stands up to clean himself and then yn.

“thank you for today, hope you enjoyed it fully” ricky thanked yn while waving goodbye, “hope i can have you here some time soon”, yn turns around and smirks at him. trust, this is not gonna be yn’s last visit to the spa, the happy ending spa.

#ricky shen x male reader #shen ricky x male reader #shen quanrui x male reader #ricky x male reader #ricky smut #shen ricky smut #shen quanrui smut #zb1 smut #zb1 x male reader #zerobaseone x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #zb1 x male reader smut #zerobaseone x male reader smut

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fandomfluffandfuck · 1 month ago

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I just can't stop thinking about Steve, with his gold-tinted propaganda image kept neat and tidy even after all these years, breaking from the mold in the most predictable way.

'Cause he isn't the perfect soldier everyone has been taught to see him as through careful textbook writing. He isn't the censored, corners-tucked-in, blindly nationalistic pawn the government wants its citizens to believe in. He was a goddamn fairy in Brookyln circa 1930, born of an immigrant and bullied from the moment he set foot on a schoolyard. He's been known he's filthy and impure for a while. Everyone else just needs to keep up. C'mon, some laws are bullshit meant to be broken anyhow; some laws are meant to be broken repeatedly, day after day, multiple times a day if he's got the time and energy 👀

But--

The one thing the history books did get right is that Steve does have a moral compass that's unbreakable and unflinching. So, of course, when he gets jokingly challenged, he also gets seriously roped into some charity wet fucking t-shirt contest.

He could never dream of saying no.

What's a little filth for a guy like Steve? And when it's doing a service? Shit. There ain't nothing he can do but let it rain down on him 😏

When the footage is finally released on Cap's official social media pages, the public would be freaking out way worse over their national icon making an irresistible thirst-trap of himself if it weren't for a good cause. 'Cause, okay, of course, Cap had to do that.

That.

Standing there. On some New York City roof with the sunset just beginning over his big, broad shoulders, coating everything in thick, honey-colored light. He's in nothing but grey S.H.I.E.L.D-issue sweatpants and a tiny, little white t-shirt shirt. Already obscene, but then--

When he's dunked, flipping a whole cooler full of ice water on his own head, shit, he's blushing so hard you can see his fever-hot blush painting his pale skin through his thin, sinfully tight, white t-shirt that really didn't need to be wet in the first place to leave nothing to the imagination. But, now that it is wet... it just makes it easier to see the pretty pink points of his achingly hard nipples and the fast-fading bitemarks circling the mounds of his rounded, thickly-muscled tits.

His fucking body.

Goddamn.

Dripping wet, soaked, Steve's chest heaves, reacting almost too sensually to the cooler of freezing water thrown down onto him by his own capable hands.

Little do the millions and millions of viewers who watch and rewatch the clip know, Steve isn't blushing from being suddenly indecently exposed to the public. His sensible, good-guy shyness kicking in. Nah. He's blushing like fuckin' crazy because Bucky's the one filming it. Bucky. Bucky with his teeth being the ones that left the marks in Steve's freckled, unblemished skin.

And, damn, Bucky's hand not holding the phone in place is already on his bulge, palming his cock teasingly to the wet-dream sight of his fucking boyfriend showing himself off. No one gets to touch him like Bucky touches him but everyone gets to see what Bucky gets to sink his fucking teeth into.

Look, but don't touch. Don't you fucking dare touch.

The abrupt end-cut of the video isn't a mistake. It's to keep Bucky's low, lust-thick growl between just the two of them.

#fandomfluffandfuck #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky

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bluewave-semi · 2 months ago

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Pulsed laser deposition services for high-quality thin film materials

Blue Wave Semiconductors offers professional pulsed laser deposition services for clients seeking high-quality, custom thin film coatings. Utilizing precision laser ablation techniques, these services ensure uniform and stoichiometric transfer of materials onto substrates, making them ideal for applications in electronics, optics, and advanced material research.

#pulsed laser system #thin film services #custom film growth

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surftechinc · 2 years ago

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What Can Thin Film Coatings Do?

At SurfTech INC, we pride ourselves on being at the forefront of innovation in thin film coatings. Thin film PVD coatings, such as those offered by SurfTech, are a game-changer in multiple industries. From aerospace to medical devices and electronics, these coatings offer unmatched advantages in terms of protection, performance, and longevity. When you partner with SurfTech INC, you’re not just investing in coatings; you’re investing in excellence, innovation, and a brighter future for your business.

Original Source, https://bit.ly/3LR0RRm

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ericscroptop · 1 year ago

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Good Girls Ride

✧ pairing: bf! xiaojun x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, cursing, cowgirl position, riding, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, kissing

✦ word count: 3.1k words

✧ synopsis: plain and simple: it’s your first time riding dejun.

⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆

Your head rested against Dejun’s shoulder while your body had found home comfortably in his lap, cuddled into his chest as you guys spent time lazily watching movies together.

Now usually when men watch movies with their girlfriends, it often leads to sex because they can’t seem to keep it in their pants.

But right now, it is you who can’t seem to focus on the television with your hot boyfriend so close to you.

Dejun had his undivided attention on the film currently playing. He’s been raving about this action film that came out recently— of which, you honestly couldn’t give a rat’s ass about.

Though, you agreed to watch this movie when you saw how his eyes lit up in elation when he discovered it had been added to streaming services.

You obliged since he always went along with what you wanted to do and put your needs first 95% of the time.

He perpetually gave you princess treatment and attention. Always allowing you to be the one to choose what to eat when you two were eating out. Letting you be in charge of aux when you were his passenger princess. And, he always ensures that you’re satisfied and reached your climax every single time you two had intercourse.

Dejun was consistently sweet to you. You loved him for that. He took care of you beyond well and you never took for granted his sweet nature.

Though, that’s what should make moments that surround him and his desires a bit more special. Your boyfriend rarely complains in allowing you to pick and choose most of the time. In fact, he encourages it. He loves giving you what you want and no matter what he does with you, he’s just grateful that you’re by his side.

And so, you really want to be able to sit through this 3 hour-long movie with your boyfriend, as he’d been more than eager to show you something he’s interested in.

But this genre of movie isn’t particularly your favorite. And you know Dejun is well aware it’s not really your vibe.

Which is why he has you pulled into his lap. So you could remain still and held securely in his embrace to watch this movie like a good girl.

Not only was boredom beginning to strike your brain, but you also had a habit of having the inability to stay still. You made way too many movements— whether big or small.

You squirmed so much like a worm. You often had to reposition yourself or fidget as long as you were awake and weren’t focused.

It especially was hitting you now that your ass covered by thin leggings rested over Dejun’s lap and crotch, covered in those lightweight, mesh basketball shorts he always wore when lounging around the house.

Not to mention, he was wearing a black muscle tank that tormented you by having his bare arms on display.

His left arm was currently draped over your shoulder, the palm of his hand and fingers occasionally giving you gentle touches over your own arm and shoulder.

Locking in on this movie way out of your taste was already hard enough on its own, and your boyfriend merely existing was making it even harder.

You can’t help the sexual appetite you suddenly have now. Your mind drifts off to the pretty noises your boyfriend made in bed and how his body fit so well against yours. How he loved when you tugged on his hair and massaged it. How he’s just always so good to you and it makes you want to get on your knees for him.

You just love the shit out of him and want to be buried deep inside him for life.

A sigh leaves your mouth while you crane your neck to graze your lips over his neck. Your eyelids shut as you dot feathery kisses over his skin, humming in pleasure as you do so.

Dejun’s hold on you tightens a bit once your teeth begin to nip his neck, sucking in a breath.

“Hey… what are you doing, love?” his eyes are doing their best to stay focused on the movie whilst your lips stuck over his neck like a magnet.

He was too keen on watching this movie for weeks now, but nothing stops you when lust takes over.

“Just obsessed with you.” you mumbled into his skin, continuing in kissing him up and probably leaving a mark or two in the process.

Your body begins to squirm over him, shifting your ass from side to side even within his hold in attempt to stimulate his dick to get him hard.

Your ears pick up on him swallowing hard at your actions, and you bounce over him carefully, but enough to get him to draw out a low moan.

He can feel your lips curve into a smile over his skin. Your dominant hand finds its way into his scalp, massaging it lovingly. Your other hand rests on the back of his neck.

“You’re just always so needy, huh? Always want my attention.” Dejun teases, and you remove your mouth from his neck to look him in the eyes.

“Can’t help myself, Junie. You’re so hot.” your gaze stays concentrated on his pupils, looking at him with bedroom eyes and mouth slightly parted as you grind into him. The both of you hiss at the feeling of each other’s crotch against one another and the friction created.

“Tell you what. Since you’re being all cute over my lap right now, why don’t we go take this to the bed and you can ride me?”

Your movements halt, mouth agape from his words and confidence faded away.

He smirks at your expression, and only reaches a hand down to your thigh to pat it gently.

“Since you don’t want to watch the movie I chose, the least you can do is do what I want in the bedroom. Can you do that for me, pretty?”

———————————————————————————

And so you agreed.

The two of you neglected the movie and headed to the bedroom, quickly discarding all your clothes between heated kisses and teasing.

Now, you sit in front of Dejun. His legs are spread out on either side of you, and his arms are leaned back behind him, holding himself up on the bed.

His eyes sparkled at you in anticipation. Waiting for you to split yourself open and welcome his manhood up inside you.

Though, you can only stare dumbly at his veiny cock and swallow hard.

You’re aching to feel his length inside you, but you’ve never actually rode anyone before.

You didn’t know what it felt like to be on top. And something about sinking down onto his dick just seemed really intimidating.

Taking control in this way was foreign to you. Being pampered and Dejun doing all the work was what you were used to.

The spotlight was on you. Of course you’ve seen explicit content and heard about what it’s like to be on top, but that’s it. You weren’t sure if you could execute the proper skills and avoid embarrassing yourself.

“Jun… I’ve never been on top before.” you look at his eyes with an innocent stare.

“I don’t know if I can do it, babe.” a pout forms on your lips, causing your boyfriend to chuckle.

He knows you secretly just want him to do what you’re used to. Bending you over and fucking the shit out of you. But he wants to challenge you for once.

He saw how eager you were to kiss him up and tease your ass over his crotch just a bit ago. He knows you have it in you to ride him. You can take it for him.

“You can do it, baby. I’m right here incase you need help.” he reassures you, bringing his thumb to your cheek and rubbing it sweetly.

You half smile nervously at him, still a bit hesitant at proceeding with the act of riding him.

But, you trust Dejun so much. He would never hurt you or make you feel bad. If he thinks you can do it, then you believe him.

Your dominant hand reaches for his cock. It twitches at your touch and your fingers begin to lube up his length with his own precum.

Your teeth catch your bottom lip in hold and Dejun feels hot in feeling and seeing you touch his dick and adjusting yourself over him to bring his length close to your pussy.

Cock within your hold, you start to play with the head against your folds to get you wet enough to take him, causing Dejun’s breathing to increase and you whimper at the contact.

“C’mon baby. I got you.” Dejun whispers and brings a hand to your wrist, his touch encouraging you to welcome him in.

And so you do.

He helps you put it in. You align yourself over him well with his aid and his cock head enters your hole. You hiss with eyes shut as you sink down him inch by inch, resting your legs on either side of him, and your boyfriend says nothing but words of encouragement during the process of his length stretching you out.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding once he bottoms you out, prompting you to whine at the feeling of fullness.

“C’mere.” your boyfriend coos and you carefully lean over towards his face to connect your lips with his, each of your hands resting on one another’s body.

You two make out for a minute while you cock warm him. He lets you get used to him being inside you in this way for a moment so you could get comfortable and less tense.

And you do loosen up. Your mouth moved in sync with his own, and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, grinding over him as the desperation to get yourself off waves over you.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands feel all up on the curves and edges of your body while you grind over his cock.

Your hips play around with moving back and forth and moving in a circular motion, testing out the waters.

A filthy moan then leaves your mouth at the stimulation of grinding your clit, making a smirk appear on Dejun’s face as you get used to this.

“I wanna feel you fucking yourself over me. You can do that for me, can you, pretty?” his voice low.

You only whimper in response. Your hands let go from around his neck and find new settlement on his shoulders and chest.

Your hips then lift carefully, starting to move up and down over his length. Your moist pussy letting half of his length slip in and out repeatedly, but slowly.

His hands hold your hips securely, and his eyes are gleaming as he watches you work yourself up and down, mouth open while you concentrate and use his cock like a toy.

Seeing you like this is captivating. The sexual passion you have is strong.

He is in awe at how beautiful your entire being is, and dives into your right breast, beginning to kiss the soft flesh.

It adds more stimulation onto you, fucking up your brain at the pleasure being brought to your sensitive areas.

His tongue coats your erect nipple, leaving his saliva and wetness all over your breast and he then starts hungrily sucking hickeys onto the skin as best as he can, and repeating the same with your other breast. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna ruin me.” he mumbled in between attacking your mounds.

You continue to slide yourself and bounce over him, breath hitching as you do so repeatedly.

Evidently though, you’re starting to feel tired. Unfortunately for you, you don’t have good enough stamina and your thighs are starting to burn from this new position.

You sink back all the way down, beginning to go back to grinding yourself over him at a steady pace. You love the way grinding brings so much stimulation to your swollen clit, and it has you smiling. You moan and let free a couple hushed gasps in satisfaction at the feeling.

Dejun mimics your smile and groans at your neediness and desperation.

It’s turning him on in seeing you attempt to get yourself off right on top of him in full naked view, so filled up with his thick cock— working so hard to fuck yourself over him.

Though, Dejun admits that he did like seeing you bounce up and down his cock, watching his cock split you open.

As much as he loves watching you grinding right now, he thinks it’s time for him to take over.

“Love seeing you like this, pretty. But I think it’s time for me to take over, yeah?”

His hands move over to your ass cheeks, massaging them before his fingers start digging deep into the flesh.

You suddenly gasp when he lifts you up carefully over his cock, starting to slide you up and down over his length.

His hips begin to thrust upwards, fucking you at his own pace and to his own pleasure.

“Ahhh— Dejun!” you practically scream at Dejun’s sudden take over.

Your eyes concentrate on his face, watching the hunger that is deeply visible in his pupils as he follows a rhythm within his thrusts. His nails are deeply dug into your bottom as he uses his strength to lift you up and down. Groans and irregular breaths leave his throat at the feeling of your walls stroking his cock.

You can’t help but start to alternate between tightening and loosening your walls at the feeling of Dejun using his cock to his control. It’s sending him into overdrive, and makes him even hungrier for you two to reach climax. His thick brows tighten together and his chest heaved with every plunge.

“Mhm, you like when I have control— don’t you, baby?” your boyfriend grunts as he raises his hips, making him reach inside of you deeper and come in contact with your cervix.

High pitched moans escape your throat at the feeling, and you tilt yourself forward a bit. Practically gripping onto his chest and shoulders to keep yourself steady, trying not to fall over from how fucked out you are from the pure bliss he’s bringing to your pussy with his cock.

The position you’re in allows a fantastic vantage point for your g-spot. It is then that you feel that tingly tension from your clit and your groin muscles contract.

It’s starting to hurt so good. You can feel your climax coming. Tightness is present from your back down to your legs. Excess saliva builds up in your mouth from the immense pleasure coursing your body and your heart rate picks up.

“Dejun… ba-baby I’m…” tears begin to build up and cloud your vision, just like how the pressure of your boyfriend’s cock is fucking you senseless and fogging your brain from any clear thoughts. You can’t even finish your sentence and barely are able to talk.

Dejun can feel you squeeze his shaft and stares darkly at your face. He sees your fucked-out state and knows his girl is on the verge of milking his cock.

A tear manages to slip out your eye and roll down your cheek, and you whine at how full and overwhelmed you are.

This encourages Dejun to keep up his movements. Adding extra emphasis to each thrust he makes and grunting loudly at his effort and in seeing the way your body is responding to him.

Your stomach muscles clench and breasts jiggle at every movement, leaving him aroused times a million and oversexed by your body. You’re like a moving work of art to him, and he can’t help but feel the blood rushing through his cock at this beautiful, lewd scene.

“Let it out, babygirl. I’m so ready for you.” he growls out, and his words cue you to release, immediately satisfying that itch-pain pleasure that took over your body.

There’s a heat increase within your pussy as you cum. Every inch of you trembles at the feeling of your juices coming out and Dejun’s cock still moving inside you.

Your mouth is wide open in relief and from the electric shock rushing your senses.

“Oh my god—uhhh!” you moan loudly, and your boyfriend’s length begins to twitch not only from your dirty noises that are like heaven to him, but also from how his cock feels like it’s swimming inside your pussy. His shaft is practically drowning and overflowing in your cum, all drenched.

His dick starts to feel sparkly, and he continues to fuck you a bit longer as his own ejaculation is coming.

His entire face contorts, and he deeply groans once he lets go. You can feel his dick swell and grow a bit, and it spasms and pulsates with each and every hot spurt.

Your walls can’t help but squeeze over him as hard as you can while he cums inside of you.

The warmth and pressure of his semen reaches your cervix and fills you up, making it feel like your pussy is getting baked from all the heat stuffed inside of you.

After milking himself dry, he lets his body fall back onto the bed. You allow yourself to drop on top of him, chests colliding.

Both of your heartbeats are still racing from the ‘exercise’ and your legs and thighs shake, coming down from your high and the physical activity.

“You did so well for me. I got you, pretty.” Dejun moves his right hand towards your back to calm you down. His fingers come in contact with sweat glistening your spine, and you cringe at the feeling.

“God, I’m so sweaty. Don’t touch me— i’m gross.” you’re quick to say, trying to shift off Dejun but he keeps you secured over him, refusing to let go.

“We just fucked like animals and you think I care about sweat?” your boyfriend scoffs and lets out a chuckle.

He lifts his free hand towards the nape of his neck, feeling his own sweat that drenched it. He removes his hand quickly after coating his hand, and holds it in the air to show you.

“See? I’m sweaty too. It’s normal, baby.”

Rolling your eyes is the only response you give him. You rest your head against his bare chest, pressing a gentle kiss against his skin.

Your lids close for a moment, his cock still inside you. There’s no motivation in you to leave his arms or move your body. You just wanna be stuck in his embrace forever.

“Wanna go actually watch the movie this time now that you got what you wanted?” Dejun whispers.

You let out a sigh, “Nah, I think it’s time for a nap.” You snuggled your head into his chest, trying to win him over with your cuteness.

In response, he huffs out some air and without warning, brings a hand to smack your ass.

You gasp at the feeling, and hiss at the sensitivity you have from the waist down post-sex. “Dejun!” you scold him.

“Always such a brat. You’re lucky I love you.”

⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⊹₊ ⋆

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queenshelby · 7 months ago

Text

The Peaky Role (Part Six)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Dad's Friend, Best Friend's Dad

Over the days that followed your intimate scene with Cillian, the distance between you and Cillian suddenly felt heavy, like a fog settling after a rain.

You did not have any scenes together over the next two days, and each time you caught a glimpse of him, a subtle shift in his demeanor tugged at your mind.

Cillian would smile at you still, but something lingered behind those deep blue eyes, a hesitation you couldn't decipher.

Every time you crossed paths, he glanced away, returning to his work like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. It was almost like he was trying to avoid you and you did not know why.

Cillian kept his distance from you during rehearsals, focusing intently on his lines or conversing animatedly with other cast members, drawing a thin veil between you. You respected his need for space, but confusion knotted in your stomach each time you saw him laughing with someone else. His behaviour made you wonder about whether your father and Nina may have been right, that perhaps you working together so intimately would complicate things.

He was your best friend's father and your father's best friend and here you were, filming some intense scenes together.

The lines between professionalism and personal relations, even if innocent, blurred, and you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe the weight of your sudden physical closeness affected him more than you realised.

Maybe he felt weirded out by having to kiss and touch you or maybe he thought that you were overstepping some invisible boundary together by engaging in these acts on screen.

“Hey,” you said one afternoon, spotting him by the services table as he poured a cup of coffee.

He caught your eye but quickly focused on the steaming mug, fiddling with the lid.

“You good?” you ventured, stepping closer, your heart quickening with anticipation.

“Yeah, just, you know…” He took a sip, glancing away. “Busy.”

“Busy or hiding from me?” you teased, attempting to lighten the moment, but his smile barely touched his lips and you quickly regretted the jab.

“Why would I hide from you?” Cillian's voice remained steady, but his eyes darted to the doorway, as if searching for an escape.

"I don't know, maybe because of the last scene?" you suggested while nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. "I mean, it was a little awkward, wasn’t it?”

Cillian set the coffee down with a soft thud and finally turned to you, his expression shifting from a hunter stalking prey back to a familiar, softer gaze.

“So you thought it was awkward?” he pressed gently, gauging your response.

You shrugged, the corners of your mouth twisting into a tentative smile.

“A bit. But I thought we did okay, don't you think?" you asked as Cillian ran a hand through his greying hair before letting out a soft chuckle that warmed the air between you.

“Yes. I think we did too,” he said, his tone shifting, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. “But I am not quite sure how our respective families will react when they see the footage.”

You laughed, the tension easing just a fraction. “Yeah, I can only imagine my dad’s face," you continued, shaking your head in disbelief.

Cillian chuckled, a genuine warmth spreading across his features. "I don't think I would want to be in the same room when the scene plays out because, honestly, I didn't realise that it would be so graphic," he said, shaking his head lightly, his expression somewhere between amusement and resignation.

“Did you see the cut already?" you asked with a hint of suprise in your voice, but Cillian shook his head.

“Not cut but, as a producer, I saw the footage," he replied, swallowing the last bits of coffee before leaning against the table, sighing. “I thought it was going to look more like a soft-focus kind of scene, but what was shot really leaves little to the imagination.”

You leaned against the counter, mirroring his casual stance. “I guess it is what it is, right? Just art, doing its thing. You should think too much about it."

Cillian’s lips quirked in a faint smile, but his gaze grew distant as if he were peering beyond the chaos of filming.

“You are probably right but I have known your family for a long time Y/N and I just don't want this or any other scene between us to ruin some longstanding friendships," he continued, his brow furrowing with contemplation.

“Cillian, none of this is going to change anything between us or our families because it was an act and nothing more," you reassured him, focusing on the sharpness of his jawline that reflected the light above you.

“I hope you’re right,” he said before he shifted his weight, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Now, I have to go. I am glad we talked though," he said, his voice steady, yet something flickered in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his facade.

In Cillian's mind, it was much more than just acting though as, what you did not know, was that, for the past two days he had wrestled with conflicting thoughts.

Cillian's attraction to you felt dangerous yet intoxicating to him, like standing too close to an open flame. The scene of you on top of him had ignited something in him he thought he could control, but it became harder and harder to do.

He turned abruptly, leaving you at the service table, feeling a mix of confusion and lingering warmth. You watched him go, wondering if you’d ever find out what really lingered behind those blue eyes as he slipped away into the crowd of crew members bustling through the set.

The warmth he left behind mingled with an ache of uncertainty, pulling you in different directions but, as the day wore on, you tried to focus on your scenes with the other cast members.

You had to focus and so you did. You finished your last scene for the week at around 5 o'clock and went back to your apartment to pack.

The early evening light filtered through the window as you tossed a few items into your bag—a pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, and essentials and, by around 10 o'clock, you arrived at the airport in Liverpool for you late night flight back to Dublin.

The airport buzzed with activity—a young family juggling bags, a couple bickering over boarding passes, and scattered travelers absorbed in their phones.

You looked for the Air Lingus check-in counter nervously, hating both flying and crowded places like this and, as you navigated the terminal, the familiar pulse of anxiety gnawed at your stomach.

You spotted the Air Lingus check-in counter and approached but, just as you were about to line up, you noticed him.

It was Cillian, standing two counters over, his hands resting lightly on the edge of the counter while he exchanged a few words with the agent, a brief smile flashing across his face as he spoke.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the wave of nerves that surged through you.

“Cillian!” you called out, your voice cutting through the chatter of the airport.

He turned, his smile fading briefly, replaced with a look of surprise.

“Y/N!” he said as you joined him at the counter, the moment of unexpected connection releasing some of the tension that had built over the last few days.

“Guess we’re on the same flight," you said, shrugging as you tried to calm your nerves.

"Looks like it," he replied, his voice hesistant as you were called to the check-in counter next to his.

“Just my luck,” you said, forcing a light laugh as you handed over your papers to the agent, who checked your ticket with a distracted nod.

As the woman typed away on her computer, you stole another glance at Cillian and the way his brows knit together in concentration as he finalised his check-in at the neighbouring counter.

“Do you want to sit together?” the agent asked, glancing between you and Cillian with a raised brow.

Cillian hesitated, an almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

“It’s not necessary,” he said quickly, speaking at the same time as you, not matching your enthusiasm.

“Yes!” you blurted out, the eagerness escaping before you could filter it.

Cillian paused, his eyes widening slightly as the agent glanced between you two, a smile creeping onto her face.

“Yes or no?" she then asked as she leaned closer, waiting for a decision.

“Yes,” Cillian finally conceded, his lips twisting into a reluctant smile. "If that is no trouble."

The agent nodded and worked her magic on the keyboard. “There you go, seats 22A and 22B. Enjoy the flight!”

“Thanks,” you said, grateful for the small victory as you grabbed your boarding pass, the bright letters practically glowing in your hand.

Cillian fell into step beside you as you made your way toward the security line, his posture relaxed but eyes scanning the terminal with the ease of someone used to the attention that surrounded him.

Luckily for you both however, no one bothered to approach him for a photograph or an autograph, allowing you a few precious moments of quiet.

Eventually, and following some awkward silence between you, you arrived at the gate where people settled into their seats, a blend of chatter and the rustle of bags filling the air.

You found a place against the wall, leaning on the cool surface as you looked over at Cillian, who stood accross from you and put his way too expensive bag down by his feet. He removed his jacket, folding it over his arm with practiced ease, revealing a black t-shirt that perfectly matched his torn jeans.

"What have you been listening to?" you asked, watching him put his headphones away with a casual grace.

"As surprising as it may be, I've been on a bit of a Beatles kick lately," he replied, glancing your way, eyes softening at the casual conversation.

“Really? Which album?” You leaned in, intrigued as the atmosphere lightened between you.

“Rubber Soul,” he said, his voice steady, yet there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “I find there’s something poetic about it."

“It's totally underrated ,” you agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “The lyrics are so alive, like they really force you to think about relationships in a different way.”

"Come on, you listen to music that old?" he teased, a hint of disbelief dancing in his eyes. "Aren't girls your age more into whatever music is trending on, I don't know, Tik Tak?" he asked, causing you to laugh out loud.

"Tik Tak?" you chuckled, shaking your head. “You really need to update your references. It’s TikTok, not Tik Tak! And yes, I can appreciate good music regardless of the age of the tunes. A timeless song is a timeless song,” you said, crossing your arms, a playful defiance lighting your features.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Well, you’ve got taste, I’ll give you that,” he said, his voice drifting as he leaned against the wall, mimicking your stance and crossing his arms, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips just as, finally, the boarding call came through the intercom, breaking the levity.

“Now boarding for Flight 232 to Dublin,” the voice announced, echoing through the somewhat sterile airport space.

Sitting not far from the front, you found your seats rather quickly and, just as a gentleman would, Cillian offered you the winow seat.

“Please, by all means,” he said, gesturing toward the window, his expression a mixture of chivalry and teasing.

"No thanks. You take it," you insisted, giving him a nervous smile.

"Are you sure?" He scrutinized your face, searching for any hint of insincerity.

“Absolutely,” you replied, nodding firmly which is when he realised that you were anxious.

He studied you for a moment, concern flickering in those piercing blue depths. “You really don’t like flying, do you?”

You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your seatbelt. “No, not at all. I’ve always hated it. The noise, the cramped space—it feels like being trapped in a metallic coffin.”

Cillian chuckled softly, but his eyes remained serious as the cabin crew prepared for take-off and, eventually, proceeded towards the runway.

“Just breathe,” he said, turning his body slightly to face you, his expression shifting to something softer.

“Focus on your breathing,” he repeated, his voice weaving through the murmurs of other passengers settling in. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

"Jesus, you sound like my dad when he gives one of these meditation classes," you said, trying to stifle a laugh, though the anxiety still knotted in your stomach.

Cillian’s lips quirked, his expression softening. “I may have attended a few of them," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. “The man thinks that breathing exercises can solve everything. But you know what? They actually help sometimes.”

As the plane began to taxi, the cabin shook slightly, the vibrations sending a jolt up your spine.

You squeezed the armrests, feeling the familiar surge of nerves clawing at your stomach.

“Just focus on me,” Cillian said, his voice cutting through the swirling chaos around you. “Talk to me about anything. Just keep your mind off the flight.”

“I don’t know what to talk about,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the plane’s movements making your heartbeat quicken and, when the plane finally began its ascent, the sensation of lifting off the ground squeezed the air out of your lungs.

“Anything at all. What’s your favorite movie?” Cillian prompted, leaning slightly closer, his breath brushing over your ear but, what you did next, suprised him.

You grasped his hand, fingers curling around his warm palm, seeking comfort in the pressure of his grasp.

“Y/N?” Cillian blinked, caught off guard as he felt your grasp wrap around his hand, his breath hitching slightly.

“Sorry,” you murmured, embarrassment flushing your cheeks as you glanced at him. “It just…helps. I hate this part and I don't want to talk, okay? Not right now," you told him and Cillian nodded slowly, his expression shifting from surprise to understanding.

He wrapped his fingers gently around yours, steady and reassuring, creating a small oasis of calm amidst the chaos swirling around you.

“It's alright," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a steady rhythm that felt oddly soothing.

The plane continued to climb, the cabin settling into a more stable altitude, but you still clutched his hand as if it were a lifeline in a tumultuous sea.

Once the initial turbulence passed, the sound of the engines settled into a steady roar, a low hum vibrating through the cabin.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Cillian said, a calmness threading through his voice, the warmth in his grip anchoring you.

You nodded, but your eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of you.

The screen flickered with safety instructions, and you tried to focus, but your breathing came in quick bursts.

"Sshh, it's okay," Cillian said softly, squeezing your hand slightly. “You are going to be okay!"

You felt a warmth radiate from his palm, grounding you as the cabin ambiance began to calm, the chaotic whirring fading into a dull background.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say though the tremor in your voice betrayed your bravado.

"You sure about that?" Cillian raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes as he glanced over at you , his voice laced with gentle teasing.

“Okay, maybe not entirely fine,” you admitted, biting your lower lip as you struggled between the flicker of embarrassment and the absurdity of the situation. “But you holding my hand helped a little.”

Cillian chuckled, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he let the warmth of the moment settle between you.

“Then I’ll keep holding it,” he replied, his voice low and steady like the rhythm of the engines and he kept up his word, holding your hand for the entire and, luckily, short flight.

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