Put that nail in the coffin over the word forever
You completely changed me when I was fragile
tw: afab! reader, yandere! txt, dubcon, noncon, stalking, obsession, violence, bullying, mentions of murder, profanities, mentions of abuse and gaslighting, kidnapping, assault, manipulation, panty stealing, peeping tom, vomit, blood, knife-play, more warnings to be added, mdni, read at your own discretion
note: i lied when i said i was gonna release that fratboy!jake i have sitting in my drafts for about a month ;(, i just need to get this unhinged idea off my head before i become slave of nursing school
note (2): with that being said being a slave to monday to saturday classes > slow updates, but definitely going to publish yeonjun when i can!
note (3): i hope you'll enjoy this monstrosity of a fic @itgirlgyu us and our love for unhinged men. also, @hyewka sorry for the sudden tag but i was heavily inspired after reading your yandere! gyu aaa luv ur sexy brain
soobin: a scar on my chest gone bad
a prisoner and a lover.
yeonjun: slash my heart then gone dead
yeonjun was willing to stain his hands crimson only for you.
beomgyu: who you knew that good boys gone bad now
the angel faced demon who was willing to make your life a living hell.
taehyun: good boy gone bad
the man clad in black, a boogeyman after you.
hueningkai: so sweet is this shut-eyed night of despair
a blood tinged rose in exchange for his favorite laced undies of yours.
request: hi, is it possible for you to write a wonwoo smut? pairing fem reader and gamer boyfriend wonwoo? ofc fine if not, but ty if u do! <3
synopsis: you're not very good at asking for things, especially not of the sexual kind. but maybe you can be driven to a point where you simply have to ask.
a/n: hiiii this took super long to write bc i got a mini-writers-block in the middle of it. i'm sorry if it feels super awkward at some points.
cw: unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), begging, praise, use of pet names
Wonwoo wasn't a neglectful boyfriend. In fact, he spent a lot of his attention on you. He enjoyed spending time with you, doting on you, buying you gifts, and doing anything else you would love for your boyfriend to do. But Wonwoo also has other interests, like any ordinary human person. That isn't your problem, per se. You liked that he had other hobbies, that you could be two individuals who weren't constantly dependent on one another... but right now, you felt a bit dependent on him.
No, Wonwoo wasn't a neglectful boyfriend, but right now, he was neglecting you - even if it was unintentional. While you were withering away on the bed, he was in your shared office where he had put up his gaming set-up. You loved that he played with his friends, and it was good that he interacted with people - is what you kept repeating in your head while you tried to suppress that static feeling rippling up in your lower stomach. You were immensely horny because of an event this morning, which Wonwoo had somehow completely forgotten about.
Your eyes had fluttered open to see him sleeping beside you. His bare, broad chest was on display for you, as the covers were only dragged up to the middle of his torse. There was only one thought in your brain as you reached out your hand to touch him. In his tired, still half-asleep state, he brought you closer and nuzzled his face into your neck.
"Good morning, love." His voice was raspy, it made you feel dizzy.
Your fingers went to the nape of his neck, from where they then traveled to his hair. A content sigh escaped your lips as Wonwoo placed soft kisses all over your neck.
"Is my baby feeling a bit needy today?" He laughed lazily as you tried to press yourself closer to him.
"Mhm..." you hummed. "You look so good, so, how could I resist?"
He looked up at you, squinting ever so slightly because he still hadn't gotten his glasses from the nightstand, and gave you a tired smile. It was his thanks for the compliment.
"I'm sorry, love, I really have to leave as soon as possible." He shifted around in bed before he sat up.
Before you could start whining and complaining, Wonwoo pressed a kiss on your cheek. You watched him put on his glasses and walk over to the dresser to find some clothes for the day.
"I promise that I'll give you some extra attention when I get home tonight, okay?" he said when he saw your disappointed expression.
"I'll keep you to that," you said and went back to sleep.
You hadn't kept him to it. Wonwoo came home, the two of you ate dinner together, and you said you wanted to go to bed. He just kissed your cheek and said goodnight. It left you confused and somewhat irritated, but he couldn't exactly read your mind - so how could you blame him? You had trouble with telling him what you wanted. It felt embarrassing to admit having needs, for some odd reason. While it was something that you both had actively worked on, you hadn't ever initiated something on your own. He always had to encourage you to tell him what it was you needed. It was fun to have him tease you and lead you to say what you wanted, but you still felt embarrassed to ask for something so out of the blue.
Which is why you were walking back and forth in front of the office door. Blue light streamed out of the crack in the door, and you could hear Wonwoo talking into his headset. His voice was low and raspy, just like this morning, and it definitely didn't help your state of mind. Your fingers gripped at the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was Wonwoo's shirt, one that you had stolen from his wardrobe earlier this evening. You had wanted to be bold, so you were only wearing a pair of black, lacy panties underneath - which you knew were his favorite of yours - but now you were regretting it. Maybe it was a dumb idea, maybe you should just go to bed. But you wouldn't be able to sleep much if you went to bed now.
"Baby? Is that you?" You heard Wonwoo call out for you.
You peeked your head through the door after opening it ever so slightly. His eyes met yours. He looked tired, but he was still smiling warmly at you.
"Thought I heard someone outside..." he muttered and motioned for you to come in. "You can sit with me if you can't sleep."
Usually, it would be precisely what you needed - but not right now. You didn't say a word. Instead, you just went to sit by your desk. Wonwoo turned his gaming chair around to look at you, looking a bit confused. As if it were the most obvious thing ever, he patted his lap to signal for you to sit there instead. Your office chair was safe. There, you could wriggle around uncomfortably as you watched Wonwoo tap away at his keyboard. He would never know that you were struggling if you sat in your chair but, of course, he didn't want you to sit there. Whenever you had trouble sleeping, you would come into the office and sit on his lap. It was your routine, and Wonwoo didn't break routines. Hesitantly, you made your way over to him.
"I don't want to interrupt your game..." you mumbled as an excuse.
"You're not," he said casually. "We're in the waiting lobby right now, and I turned the mic off. I'm just going to play one more round and then I can take you to bed."
His hands were on your waist, pulling you in closer and urging you to sit down on his lap. You knew he loved to have you sit there while he played since he had frequently called you his little blanket. Right now, you weren't his little blanket, you were just his incredibly horny girlfriend, and you just wanted him to see that without any questions asked.
"Come on, baby." He interrupted your racing thoughts. "I really don't mind, okay?"
Of course he would worry about you feeling like you were being clingy. For someone so good at reading people, he really couldn't read you at all. Or maybe he could, and this was all some sort of game. You couldn't think much longer because he pulled you closer and made you sit down. Usually, you would sit with both your legs across his, but now he managed to sit you down in a straddling position. Wonwoo was going to be the death of you.
"There you go, sweetheart," he muttered as he turned his attention back to the game. "I'm turning the mic back on, okay?"
You hummed because that's all you could manage to do. Wonwoo was so close, yet so far away, from where you needed him most. Instinctively, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. After turning on his mic, his hands traveled back to your waist to keep you steady while he adjusted himself in the chair.
"Sorry about that, I just had to take care of something," he said to his friends.
As he adjusted himself, his crotch just barely brushed against your core. You let out a whimper, loud and lewd enough for people to hear and understand what it implied, and pushed yourself deeper into the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide it.
"Ugh, don't tell me-" you heard a disgusted voice through his headset followed by many people laughing.
"Wait one more second..." Wonwoo sighed and turned off his headset again.
He gently peeled your head away from him so that he could look at you. Your face was bright red, and it only got worse when you met his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a knowing smile.
"I'm fine," you squeaked out.
"Are you sure, baby?" His smile became smugger. "You don't need me to take care of you?"
One of his hands went from your waist to the hem of your shirt to creep up under it. You sighed at his touch, trying to put your head back into the crook of his neck. Wonwoo only pushed you back to keep you looking at him.
"I know you need something..." He sucked in a sharp breath as he took a look at the panties you were wearing. "And you're very clever, but that's not going to fly with me, sweetheart. You know you have to tell me if you want something."
"... could you turn off the game?", you asked.
"Of course, baby." Wonwoo turned his mic back on, "Hey, I have to go... I'm sure you can win the next round without me, right?"
Many complaints were heard through the headset, but Wonwoo only chuckled and started turning everything off. Inside, he was burning up, but he was trying to keep calm in front of you. He wanted you to feel comfortable asking for things, and if he constantly took control, you wouldn't get to practice that. Now you were looking like you were about to explode - and while Wonwoo didn't like that you couldn't ask for things, he definitely enjoyed teasing you about it.
"Turned everything off for you, love," he hummed. "Can you tell me what you want now?"
"I want..." You trailed off and started to play with the neckline of his shirt, to keep yourself distracted.
The room was dark now, the only light coming from outside the office. It acted as a reminder that you hadn't turned off the lights in the bedroom.
"Do you want to go to bed with me?" he asked with faux innocence printed all over his face. "Want me to hold you until you fall asleep, hm?"
Any other day, this would've sounded like a complete dream. Right now, he was just a little bit off the mark.
"Not exactly..." You cleared your throat. "But I do want to go to the bedroom."
"Then let's go."
Wonwoo lifted you up. You let out a yelp and quickly wrapped your arms around his neck to stay stable. He walked through the apartment, and when he got to the bedroom, he put you down on the bed. Wonwoo already knew what you wanted, so it wasn't weird of him to turn off the lights and pull his shirt over his head.
"Can you tell me now, princess?" he asked sweetly as he tossed his shirt to the side.
You were sitting at the edge of the bed, your feet touching the floor. Wonwoo crouched down in front of you, settling himself between your legs and leaning his cheek to the inside of your thigh. He was waiting.
"Well, it's about this morning..." you mumbled, "You promised that you would..."
"Sorry, honey, I can't hear you." He planted a quick kiss on your thigh. "Please speak up for me."
"You kind of... left me hanging this morning," you said as your face turned bright red. "And I tried to just... fix it by myself, but-"
An exasperated sigh escaped your throat and you covered your warm face with your hands. You could hear Wonwoo snickering, and you wanted to shut him up.
"I want you," you said and put your hands back down. "And you said that you would when you got home, but you didn't."
"I'm sorry, love," he said with a heartwarming smile. "Just use your words, and I'll do whatever you ask of me now."
Whatever you ask. That was a big promise.
"Could you kiss me, then?", you smiled at him.
He was very close to starting laughing at you. Out of everything you could've asked for, you wanted a kiss. But it was progress, and he couldn't deny you anything when he had promised to do whatever you asked. So he stood back up, gently pushing you to lie down with your back on the mattress, and took off his glasses. When Wonwoo's lips met yours, you couldn't help but let out a content hum. He was soft and careful, and you wanted just a little more. Your arms wrapped around his neck again to bring him in closer. One of his hands was on your waist, while the other one cupped your face.
"I want more," you murmured against his lips once you got the courage.
"Yeah?" he placed another kiss on the corner of your mouth.
"Mhm..." you hummed as he pressed more kisses down your neck and collarbone area. "Could you... I want you to eat me out."
Wonwoo almost choked on nothing, you had never been quite this forward... but he definitely enjoyed it.
"Anything for you, my love." He grinned and placed a peck on your lips before traveling south down your body.
Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth as his pointer finger slipped under the band of your panties. Wonwoo was back in the position he was in before, crouched in front of you. His finger left the hem of your underwear as he let his thumb graze your clothed core.
"My poor baby..." he cooed as he felt the wet patch on the fabric. "You really got yourself worked up."
"I tried to tell you..." You twitched under him as his thumb accidentally grazed your clit.
Wonwoo's pointer finger was back under the hem of your lingerie, but this time it was to slide them down your legs. A few kisses were placed against inside your thighs while Wonwoo was spreading them apart before you felt him blowing cool air on your pussy.
"Wonwoo..." you whined and wiggled your hips.
"I know, I know, baby..." he said.
When you first felt his tongue on you, a whimper fell out of your mouth, and you instinctively tried to close your legs again. With gentle yet demanding hands, Wonwoo pulled them back apart.
"I have barely done anything, sweetheart." He chuckled almost devilishly. "Stop squirming for me, okay?"
You only nodded because that's all you could muster. As Wonwoo laid his tongue flat against you, your mouth fell open in a silent plea. He kept his ministrations at a steady pace, making you fall into a rhythm of grinding on his tongue. To stop you from moving, Wonwoo put his arm over your hips so that he could start sucking on your clit, pushing your shirt up ever so slightly in the process. Your hands went from gripping the sheets to holding onto Wonwoo's hair, trying to get him closer.
"It feels so good..." you whined in between soft gasps.
It felt like you were flying as if your back was no longer touching the soft sheets on the bed. The static you had previously felt in your stomach started becoming clearer, turning into a coil that was about to snap. You tried to move again, but Wonwoo was holding you in place. Suddenly, he pulled away and replaced his tongue with his fingers, not letting your climax slip away from you.
"Baby, please..." Your voice went hoarse as you whispered out the words in a prayer "... need your tongue..."
"Beg for it." He pressed a few kisses to your thighs.
For the first time in a while, you looked at him. The lower half of his face was covered in your juices, his pupils completely blown out, and his hair a complete wreck from your relentless pulling. There was a familiar look in his eyes, he wanted to make a mess of you.
"Please..." you whimpered as he kept rubbing his fingers on your clit.
"I'll need a little more than that, sweetheart..." He started slowing down the pace of his fingers.
"No, no, no..." you whined. "Please don't slow down... I want you to make me cum, please make me cum."
"Such a good girl," he praised.
And so his lips were back on your clit. The fingers that had previously rubbed at your clit, now covered in your slick, were starting to prod at your hole. As he pushed inside, you let out a loud moan, slapping your hand over your mouth as a reaction. Wonwoo didn't have the time to tell you to make as much noise as you wanted to, as he was all too focused on getting you to reach your orgasm. It was overwhelming, he was everywhere, and all you could feel was him and that damn coil in the pit of your stomach. You pulled on his hair again, and he groaned against you in response, the vibrations of his voice sending you over the edge. As you spasmed and wriggled around, he held you down and let you ride out your orgasm over his face. After you had calmed down, he placed a few kisses along your hips, trailing them up your body and pushing up your shirt in the process.
"Thank you..." you mumbled out in your delirious state.
"You did so well for me, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin. "Help me get this off, yeah?"
With Wonwoo's hand supporting your back, you sat up and pulled off the shirt. When you had thrown it to the side he laid you back down. His kisses didn't stop, his soft lips soothing you as your breath got back to its original rhythm.
"Let's get you comfortable," he said, mostly to himself, as he helped you shuffle up the bed to lay your head against the pillows.
You took his face in your hands and brought him in for a kiss. He smiled against your lips, pulling away just a few seconds later. When you looked up at him, you saw the most beautiful piece of art your eyes had ever had the pleasure to witness. With much effort, you leaned up and placed many pecks all across his face in between giggles. Wonwoo's eyes were shut tight, as he let out a breathy laugh at your behavior.
"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked when you laid back down. "I don't mind if you're too tired to keep going, you know."
You shook your head and gave him a small smile. Everything about this moment made it seem like you were floating on a cloud; the fluffy sheets, the warm feeling in your chest, the high that you were still coming down from, et cetera.
"Words, darling." He chuckled and put his face in the crook of your neck.
"I want you," you said as you drew small patterns on his back. "And I want to keep going."
Wonwoo hummed, confirming that he had heard you, and placed some kisses on your neck and collar bone area. The two of you laid there for a while, relishing in each other's touch and scent. There was no rush to get it over with.
"Talk to me, love.", he said and leaned on his elbows that encapsulated your head, "What do you want me to do?"
"I just want you inside of me...", you whispered out, and when he reached for the bedside table you added, "No condom."
He raised his brows at you, looking for any sort of hesitation in your eyes. There was none.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm on birth control... I started it a few weeks ago, I just forgot to tell you", you assured him, "I want to feel you cum inside me."
"Since when did you become such a dirty girl?", he chuckled and pressed a few more kisses to your jawline, "I don't mind, of course... but keeping secrets from me? That deserves a punishment."
His voice was gentle, his touch even more gentle. It almost felt like a feather lightly tickling your skin as he ran the back of his fingers up and down the skin of your stomach. There was a tightening sensation in your chest as you watched him litter your chest with kisses. Treating you like treasure was Wonwoo's favorite pastime, which is why he loved taking it slow with you. Sometimes he would be rough and mean, but right now he only wanted to make love to you.
"What kind of punishment?", you asked with a satisfied sigh.
He paused and looked at you, slightly confused because he had completely forgotten that he had ever mentioned a punishment. Drunk off of your body, and the aphrodisiac feeling he got from the thought of getting to cum inside you, made his short-term memory foggy.
"Right..." He cleared his throat and you laughed.
"Did you already forget?" you asked between giggles.
"I guess you're too distracting." He chuckled. "Let's forget about punishment, I just want to feel you."
"Sounds good to me.," you hummed.
Your lips met in a beautiful dance, not fighting for power or dominance but instead completely balanced and loving. Without breaking the kiss, Wonwoo tried to take off his sweatpants and underwear. Teeth were clashing as you smiled into the kiss. Eventually, he pulled away from you to rip his unruly clothing off.
"There." He breathed out, "Come here, love."
Crawling over to him, you reconnected your lips before falling back with your back on the bed. His lips moved from your lips to your jaw and down your neck - where he started sucking small purple love bites.
"Wonwoo...", you let out a frustrated breath.
"Just let me take my time, sweetheart.", he pleaded.
"You said I'd get anything I wanted as long as I asked," you said, "... I want you to fuck me already, baby."
His ears didn't deceive him, you had used his words against him. Being an honest man meant that he couldn't back down on his promise, and Wonwoo was an honest man. And as he pushed himself inside you, you felt so satisfyingly full. An utmost sinful prayer of his name left your lips as he started moving. Over and over again you found yourself in a new realm of heaven. Moans slipped past your lips, which he silenced with a kiss. His hands were on either side of your head, holding himself up as he thrusted in a slow yet delicious rhythm. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you. When he pulled away from your lips he gave you a drunken smile, a way of saying how good he was feeling without the usage of any words.
"Wait, let me just...", he trailed off as he grabbed a pillow.
A whine escaped your lips as he pulled out. What could possibly be so important that he would interrupt this? But as he put the pillow under your hips and pushed back inside you, you knew why he had wanted to do it.
"Feel better?" he asked breathlessly as he started a slightly faster pace.
"That's... very good..." You soughed. "Thank you..."
A few chaste kisses were placed on your shoulder as he continued bringing you to paradise. You hadn't felt this good in a while, and suddenly you were eternally grateful that you finally managed to tell him what you wanted.
"I'm almost there, baby...", he gritted through his teeth, "... want you to cum with me."
At a loss for words, you only nodded. His hand voyaged between your bodies to rub your clit, and you gasped at the new sensation. The coil in your stomach was about to snap for a second time, and you could tell by Wonwoo's sudden erratic thrusts that he was close as well. Feeling his warm seed spilled inside you as he came with a moan of your name sent you over the edge. His body fell on top of yours, and the two of you stayed there for a moment. Your hand gently rubbed his bare back, feeling the soft skin under your fingertips soothing you almost as much as him.
"I love you," he muttered.
"I love you too," you said with a small giggle. "You made me feel so good, honey."
"Yeah?" he turned his head to look at you.
"So good," you reassured him.
He placed a kiss on your cheek in response before he pulled out of you. Quiet groans could be heard through the room as the two of you moved around. Even if he had been very gentle, it almost felt like you were more tired than when he was rough. With sleepy eyes, you looked up at him and lifted your arms to him.
"Carry me, please," you said.
"You can't walk?" he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No... you said you would do whatever I asked.", you grinned at him.
He scoffed, but nevertheless, he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom. You took a shower together, rinsing off your sweaty bodies with cold water. When you got out, he helped dry you up with a fluffy towel and you returned the favor by drying his hair.
"You did very well," he murmured suddenly. "With asking."
"Well, you kind of made me," you chuckled and cupped his face in your hands.
"You still did well." Wonwoo kissed the palm of your hand and grinned. "It was super sexy."
You chortled at his comment and pulled your hands away from his face. He grabbed your waist and pulled you into his chest, where he had easier access to kiss your face. Even with your wriggling and whining, you couldn't escape his strong grip on you, and you could absolutely not escape his tickling pecks... a good thing that you didn't really actually mind.
❝ y/n, you can’t keep staying here. you’ve been living in my room for like, two weeks now. you don’t even pay rent. ❞
PAIRING ▸ jeon wonwoo x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, roommate au, frat au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, shy!wonwoo, he’s a bit of an overthinker too, classic “share a bed” trope, sort of friends with benefits, unprotected sex, fingering, praise
SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.
PLAYLIST ▸ seventeen by girls generation • in my dreams by red velvet
WORD COUNT ▸ 6,467 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ here’s me impulsively writing another short lil fic in 1-2 days because the wonwoo brainrot’s been hitting me :’) tbh just wrote this bc i’ve been obsessed with omori LOL but hope u guys enjoy !! ♡
ON A FRIDAY AFTERNOON, JEON WONWOO FOUND HIMSELF BEING INTERROGATED BY YOU.
“Wonwoo! You have the Xbox Game Pass?”
He was taken aback by your question. Minutes ago, he was diligently studying in the library with Kwon Soonyoung when you approached him. Lee Chan was following after you with an exasperated look on his face, sending Wonwoo silent, apologetic looks. Your face, on the other hand, looked like a collision of supernovas with the intensity of the sparkle in your eyes.
For a moment, Wonwoo wondered if you had picked up some new interest in broadcasting. There had to be a mic clipped to your shirt. If his vision wasn’t so shitty, maybe he could spot the hidden camera focusing on him.
“Uh…” He sat up straighter and nodded. (He was camera-shy—and people-shy, but that was beside the point.) “Yeah, I do. Why?”
You beamed. “Can I come over and play on your Xbox?”
playlist ➨ sugar daddy- queen herby // sugar- maroom 5 // guys my age- hey violet // tie a cherry- cl // tell it to my heart- meduza // one last night- vaults // i fell in love with the devil- avril lavinge
name: Choi Seungcheol
type ⇢ cold and broody. not interested in relationships or commitment, just business.
synopsis ⇢the worst first meeting and then an uncanny proposition is enough to cause trouble for you. you fall for a man who doesn't seem all that keen on returning your feelings.
release date: 20 January, 2022
read here!
name: Yoon Jeonghan
type ⇢playful and flirty. doesn't mind a relationship but isn't desperate either. he's a mystery.
synopsis ⇢you try to steal from him. things take a turn when he catches you on the act. seemingly for the better at first but then for the worse when you catch feelings for him.
release date: 4 March, 2022
read here!
name: Joshua Hong
type⇢ sweet and gentle. willing to commit in a relationship if someone steals his heart.
synopsis ⇢ a stupid dare leads you to him and he has you charmed quickly. but matters of the heart can never be that easy, especially when you want to avoid them.
release date: 23 June, 2022
read here!
I'm so so excited to share this project with you all as I've been planning this for months. If you want to be tagged for all of these fics just comment on this post or send me an ask!
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xu minghao
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Historical AU - @husbandhannie (smut)
“The Duke of Hastings can show you much more than what you write of.”
oneshot | bridgerton! au | f2l! au | 32.3k words
s u m m a r y >> wishing to be a successful writer in the regency period seemed next to impossible for the sole daughter of a dead earl. with arising pressures from your mother to tie the knot, you turn to your dearest friend, hwang hyunjin, duke of hastings and the most eligible, scandalous bachelor of the season, for assistance. when he suggests the insane of idea of marrying each other to help each other, you agree to the proposal, unaware of how much the duke can teach you of the wonders of matrimony.
w a r n i n g s >> noble! reader, duke! hyunjin, hyunjin is a fucking rake, reader is a fucking nerd, also really really innocent, hyunjin is sosososo hot, a lot of teasing, foul language too, endearments, sexual tension, kissing, making out, corruption kink!!!!! corruption! fucking! kink! oral (f. receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe hoemies!!) orgasming on multiple occasions, there is fluff i promise, yes there is angst, also seungmin cameo of him being a drunk fool, and slight references to regency poets and writers here and there
p l a y l i s t >> here!
t a g l i s t >> @fivefootfuryanon @h0eforhyunjin16 @seoulicitae @linoscult @aliceu @hwangi @shipsaremything98 @babyyynatty @kabira @danyxthirstae01 @sunseokkies @lunefilm @severetimetravelnerd @minaamhh @starry–koo @ninjaleeknow @hyunjeonnies @inlovewithasa @titleisyettobemade @maedesculpaeusoubi @fleeingreality @healinghyunjin
a u t h o r ’ s n o t e >> help i am back from the dead to finally give you bridgerton! hyunjin!! big apologies for taking so long, and i hope you enjoy this whopper :’) thank you for the constant support, and hope you won’t miss me too much while i’m gone ;)
back to masterlist
YOU TURNED THE PAGE OF YOUR BOOK AS YOUR MOTHER REPEATED THE RULES FOR THE TWENTIETH TIME THAT EVENING.
okay. first of all. fia add me to your tag lists forever challenge. i am subscribed for life currymuncher you better keep my name on there. PLUS I WAS LITERALY THE MF CFYINF AB THIS COMING OUT FOR MONTHS FEELINF BETRAYED but okay can we talk about the CHILLS i’m already getting at this part in the beginning 😭 but also not forgetting how you STABBED ME IN THE BACK WITH THIS TAG LIST easter sunday feeling more like good friday w all this betrayal
GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!
WORD COUNT: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33
The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party.
It felt good to be back.
Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party.
“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same.
Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”
Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long.
Settling down wasn’t their forte.
People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once.
“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having.
“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act.
He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.
“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?”
“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door.
The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door.
It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap.
“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”
Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned.
“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked.
Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night.
“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them.
“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”
“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was.
“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way.
“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed.
“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious.
“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added.
Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin.
“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more.
“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed.
“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided.
“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added.
Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way.
It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark.
Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation.
Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again.
In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits.
You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss.
Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top.
“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him.
You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey.
You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again.
With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with.
While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun.
It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee.
Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while.
Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you.
Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too.
That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight.
Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough.
The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure.
A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle.
He had to have you.
You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat.
What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games.
“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school.
“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down.
You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you.
“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused.
Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally.
Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here.
Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends.
Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line.
He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes.
You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk.
For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—
Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly.
“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short.
“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house.
“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”
“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked.
“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected.
“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face.
“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested.
“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys.
“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate.
“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it.
Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark.
“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”
“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly.
“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck.
Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout.
Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—
“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”
“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous.
“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark.
“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips.
“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.”
You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead.
She was packing as you were speaking.
In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you.
There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all.
“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment.
“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes.
“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?”
“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”
“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no.
She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place.
Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”
As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation.
Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip.
Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away.
Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs.
It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan.
He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel.
The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception.
“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned.
The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings.
And he kick-started it by calling you darling.
“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck.
His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way.
“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”
An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked.
He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it.
“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed.
“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings.
The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact.
His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you.
He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand.
It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat.
Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation.
“How was school?” He asked after a while.
The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer.
The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view.
Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you.
The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts.
You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement.
The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful.
“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage.
The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”
“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact.
You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls.
“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out.
She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready.
The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you.
You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties.
Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild.
Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy.
Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally.
Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be.
Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth.
This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd.
“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink.
His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck.
Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan.
If he’d bother to look your way, that is.
“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused.
That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves.
Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot.
His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions.
Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face.
Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore.
Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him.
He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body.
You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so.
The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony.
Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply.
“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other.
The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly.
“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye.
You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest.
“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided.
You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask.
His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours.
They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage.
He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe.
“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”
That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close.
So close to kissing you.
Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention.
“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room.
The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention.
Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said.
Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked.
“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently.
“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call.
He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to.
“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner.
“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.”
The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again.
Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.
The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them.
“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot.
Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly.
You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three.
“Can I have a taste?” You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes.
The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way.
“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure.
In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”
You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this.
“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked.
“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally.
“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.
“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it.
“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him.
“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said.
“It’ll be fun.”
“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.
“It’ll be fun.”
“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you.
“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar.
“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate.
Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to.
“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily.
“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him.
“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”
It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move.
“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked.
“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water.
Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water.
“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene.
Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone.
Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold.
Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight.
You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame.
He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun.
Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour.
“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion.
He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes.
“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours.
“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again.
“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face.
Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable.
“I’ll take care of it.”
It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining.
Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about.
Lee Haechan.
You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you.
You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.
Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—”
“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you.
He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual.
“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden.
There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever.
“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for.
He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time.
Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap.
He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing.
Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin.
“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly.
He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours.
“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere.
He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”
“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch.
“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested.
You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized.
“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted.
“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face.
“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him.
“Let’s find out,” you mumbled.
Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own.
The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches.
Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured.
He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure.
“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it.
You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most.
“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit.
It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself.
Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded.
“It’s yours—all yours!”
“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life.
It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt.
“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you.
Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you.
His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper.
“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up.
Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow.
It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock.
This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder.
“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further.
“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.
It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly.
“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek.
“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly.
He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours.
“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered.
“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber.
Hurt.
That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark.
With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles.
Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly.
“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck.
“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger.
Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?”
Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that?
“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”
Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out.
You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now.
So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems.
You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back.
Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night.
The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered.
“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up.
“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you.
Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep.
Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses.
“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily.
“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening.
“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?”
Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry.
Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place.
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again.
You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course.
Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there.
He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down.
The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck.
You couldn’t avoid him after all.
“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay.
“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen.
You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”
You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt.
“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes.
“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath.
“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks.
“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious.
“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown.
“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken.
“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”
You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face.
You really wanted to kiss him.
“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.
You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger.
He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you.
“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips.
He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?”
You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try.
Yet another problem lingered in your mind.
“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.
“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched.
“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other.
“Fuck, hide!”
Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception.
haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 2 of 3
wc: 18k (yay!)
genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), a bit of fluff
warnings: wet dreams, jerking off, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, making out, praise kink, strength kink (? he's strong...) crying during sex, dirty talk, aftercare...? petnames (baby, princess), and ... names
needs to be read after part 1 i think!
a/n: shorter warnings list lmfao anyway.... i....this took me awhile but i really hope u enjoy this and the way it reads. let me know what you think and please be kind :) thank you thank you THANK YOU to every single one of you on my taglist and if you've sent me an ask, reblogged, or left a comment. i could not have finished this without u
haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — especially to you.
he knew what he was doing each time he showed up around you at a party, love bites staining his skin and hair messy and wild. he noticed the way you recognised the perfume on him with a crinkle of your nose, or the slight flicker of sadness in your eyes when his phone would vibrate against the bedside table, wandering to the names on his phone. he could feel the way your shoulders tensed when he smiled blankly at you, track your movements as you looked away when he was cozying up with someone else.
and most of all – he knew that beyond that, you couldn't go to him for all your hurt. and that was what would be most painful, the knowledge that everything you had to suffer was unjustified, feelings not tied to reason, because he never made you any promises.
haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — and he always hoped that his touch could be a good enough apology.
all throughout rehearsals, when they took the trip to the venue, back to when he had woken up that morning, something had stirred in his chest. he was never nervous before shows, but this time he fiddled with his guitar mindlessly, wandering over to the bar and ordering just a few drinks to hopefully dull the way his heart was racing in his chest, alcohol burning a path down his throat. he picked at the way his hair fell over his eyes, re-doing his makeup before the show with the black eyeliner that he couldn't hold without thinking of you. his bandmates watching him carefully, not knowing what had changed. he wouldn't be able to tell them if they'd asked.
it was only when the girl in the bathroom had stumbled away on shaky feet, leaving one last slick touch on his arm as a goodbye, when all his feelings that had ached in him that day came crashing down in his chest, that crushing weight he couldn't ignore each time he tried to breathe.
you had kissed him — and it felt like a promise.
it was this thought that now stung at him, as he watched the numbers on the screen of the elevator flick higher and higher. he had made his way to your apartment as if on autopilot, driving down streets now too familiar. he always knows the hurt he causes you — and he feels it now, like retribution, because even now he has no right to be angry at you. no right to blame you for his hurt, because while he had never made you promises, in reality you hadn't either.
but the reality was he was here now, knocking on your apartment door.
"y/n?"
there's warm light seeping out under your apartment door, he can see all your shoes on the rack outside. jaemin's not home, but you definitely are.
he knocks again, a bitter taste in his mouth.
"y/n, i know you're home."
his hand curls into a fist, and he hits it against the door, twice. he thinks he can hear something beyond the door, a clink of something like keys, so he raises his voice, the tone of it rough.
"are you happy now?"
mark has told him he gets vindictive when he's hurt or scared, has urged him to think before he speaks.
"does it make you feel like you have the upper hand? standing me up?"
but haechan can't distinguish what he's feeling right now.
"because i don't care at all," he spits, lies he'd never rehearsed, the alcohol mixing with thoughts he didn't even know he had, to inflict the cruelest hurt. "at least i know the girl i fucked didn't feel any different." his voice dips low, cold freezing over each syllable. "i hope you know even if you went, i still would've picked her. it didn't make any difference."
the night is still, and quiet. his words seem to swell in the air, ringing around in his head. he stands in front of the door, head lowered, hand still lingering on cool surface, breaths dragged out of his lungs painfully. he waits for so long, that he wonders if he was speaking to no one at all — if you'd been asleep, if he imagined the sounds beyond the door.
but then there's a soft click, and the door drifts open.
the moment haechan sees you, he feels it like a shot to his chest, because something was terribly wrong.
it's not just the tears running down your cheeks.
your face is blotchy and red, dark circles under your teary eyes, your hair mussed up and tangled. you're wrapped in layers of clothing despite the cool summer night, your body still trembling with cold, and when you speak, your voice is so hoarse and broken that it makes goosebumps break out over his skin — and an achy tone he never wanted to hear from you ever again.
"it didn't make a difference?"
his lips part. he tugs on his jacket, trying to to close it, to pull up his collar a little higher, but it's too late — your eyes are already reading the marks on his skin, drinking in every last detail of him. 5 minutes ago he had wanted nothing more than for you to open the door and see him exactly like this — lipstick smudged lips and fucked out eyes, the smell of fake roses clinging to each fibre of his clothing, the rips in his jeans tugged this way and that.
and all at once he knew — you had wanted to go, and he just accused you of the worst thing. you were going to go, and now he was forcing you to look at him like this. if the trip here made him feel vulnerable and bruised, he knew it must have felt like this for you too on the nights he didn't ask for you — the two of you sharing feelings that you weren't supposed to have, that you couldn't justify.
now haechan sees the way your face crumples, tears gathering on your waterline. you lift your hands to wipe them away, and it's like he can feel the way your chest shakes with wounded sounds and choked sobs, your fingers clenching into fists as you bite your lip to keep from bursting into tears.
"y/n-" he breathes. "are you…is everything —"
"s-so you didn't mean it? when you invited me?" you're trying to steady your breathing. every second that passes where he's watching you fall to pieces in the doorway feels like it's searing into haechan's skin, the heavy feeling in his chest increasing tenfold with guilt. he swallows, as he watches you take a few deep breaths. "i thought… i thought it meant…when you invited m-me you said you weren't making empty promises —"
"i wasn't." he bites his lip, taking a step towards you. "y/n —"
but you back away. "i was going to go, haechan. i was really going to go –"
"i know." he knew now.
" — but i've been sick since yesterday, and it wasn't getting any better, i couldn't leave the house –"
"why didn't you tell me?" he desperately wants to run away, but he knows it's worse for you.
your voice is small. "i don't have your number."
it had slipped his mind. it was something so stupid, something so small – how he never wanted to give you a way to talk to him, or give himself an easy way to access you, didn't want things to be too easy. all of it had slowly built up to that feeling each time he glanced at his phone that night, clutching the lifeless device in his hands.
the last thing he should do, if he ever wanted to see you again, is blame you. he bites back his question of why you didn't ask jaemin for help, wrapping his jacket around his body self-consciously, running a hand through his hair. "i forgot," he whispers. hurt flickers across your face again.
"i d-don't know why i thought this would be different." you wipe at your face, biting your lip again to keep from trembling. "i hoped that maybe, even if i couldn't show up, you'd come here and take care of me. when i heard you outside the door…"
the words have a bitter bite to them, and you spit them out like you hate the taste in your mouth, hate every memory associated with his care.
"i'll take care of you," he pleads, quickly, stepping towards you.
he doesn't know what he expected, if you'd showed up. maybe he'd play for you, and leave with your hand in his. maybe he could have taken you in his car, or in his soft sheets at home. brought you out for a late dinner, sit with you and let you pry him open as you always did. or maybe he'd say nothing at all, and nothing would have changed – he didn't know.
his touch has always been his apology, always his way of reaching you through the only sure thing the both of you wanted from each other. but the look on your face tells him that the brush of his fingertips against your skin is only cruelty.
"you're fucked up if you think i'm letting you take care of me now," your voice is grating, rough on his skin.
"but i-"
"you'll hold me like this? force me to stare at the marks on your chest? breathe the perfume that isn't yours?" your tone is harsh and accusatory. he takes it all. "what were you going to do, if i showed?"
and for once, haechan can't help but be honest. "i don't know," he mumbles, and he sees the words hit you like a strike to your face.
"you knew i wanted more," you whisper. "you knew i wanted to be close to you, but you always…you always –"
"wanted?" he asks, quietly.
"you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. whatever person lies behind all that…" your tears have stopped, your voice unfeeling. the numbness in you mirrors his own. "i want nothing to do with him."
he can't think of anything to say. he reaches out a hand, and for a moment you let his fingers graze your arm, fear and hurt in the way they curl around your wrist, begging you to hold on to him too. you're scaring him, and he doesn't know how to go back, but he knows he deserves everything you're saying to him. deserves the way you shake free of his hold and close the door, his feet stumbling over themselves as he backs away.
you said you didn't want to know him, that you didn't know him at all. but he can't help thinking that's not true, because you knew him enough to know exactly how to hurt him through the walls, through the boy he pretended to be, right through his chest and past his ribcage, right into his aching heart.
—
ever since your fever broke, your life had been quiet.
you go to all your classes. you cut down on coffee by getting sleep at night. you take walks with jaemin around the neighborhood, falling back into old routines. movie nights, and grocery trips. he was coddling you, and you felt it every day — coming home to warm meals, the way he was more forgiving over little disputes. you didn't deserve it, watching him slip out of the front door quietly, camera bag slung over his shoulder.
you didn't deserve it, because you ached to follow.
some part of you was still trapped inside your room, heady and aching, desperately trying to reach him. needing his apology, needing him to recognise the way he hurt you. you couldn't look for answers in your memories, but you played each scene back in your mind like a looping film reel, letting images suffocate you — his jacket falling open, love bites marking his skin, all the times he's slipped from your grasp. and yet, other fragments come back too — the warmth of his hand on yours in the car, the slight tilt of his head as he brought his gaze level with yours, seeking you out when things got too much. his quiet answers in the dark, the slow smile that spread across his face that made you glow, knowing you'd made him happy.
"he got off lightly," you tell jaemin one night, the both of you on the floor by the couch. ice cream and wine drip condensation on the table-top, and the both of you are too heavy with the rush of sugar and alcohol, the clock ticking in the silence of the room as you sit.
"you just want to see him again," he'd replied, quietly. "don't you?"
"i just wish we could have talked." your voice is small. you and haechan never truly talked, except for some nights in the dark, lying in his arms afraid to breathe, afraid of breaking the tenderness that swelled in the room, afraid of turning on the lights to see who you were holding in the shadows.
"and then what? you'd be together?" jaemin glances over at you, and the concern in his eyes makes you shrink back even more. you were supposed to be doing better. everything in your life was right, it was exactly the way it should be — but why did you feel empty?
"then i'd at least have closure," you mumble. "i'm never going to get any answers unless i talk to him."
a brief expression of discomfort crosses jaemin's face, but it's gone when you blink.
"i just don't want you to see him again, and forget all the ways he hurt you."
you don't say a word. both of you knew that it was something too likely to happen.
—
it's dark in haechan's room. the boy liked it shadowy, black-out curtains drawn over the windows, the air cool from air-conditioning, an air humidifier spewing light blue mist in the corner. the boy sitting in bed had his guitar in his lap, picking at the strings quietly, his phone face-up on the bed next to him, recording his ideas. he was swaddled in a large hoodie, swallowing his frame, shorts riding high on his thighs as he curls into himself.
he doesn't look up when mark shuffles in, closing the door behind him quietly, blinking as his eyes adjust to the low light.
"jaemin's outside."
haechan nods. "i heard you." his voice is a soft sound, boyish. mark has heard it enough growing up, that he knows haechan is scared. he knows haechan is waiting for answers, waiting for the verdict.
"he says he'll only continue to work with us if you stop seeing… y/n."
the name trips in his mouth, clumsy. it feels strange to use it, especially around haechan, who knows you more than any of them do, like he's saying something he's not allowed to, a boy using an expletive he doesn't understand. haechan's body tenses when he hears your name in mark's voice, predictable, almost laughable — the slight tightening of his nimble fingers on the neck of the guitar, slip of his fingers on the guitar pick.
"okay." and the boy goes back to playing.
"you'll stop seeing y/n?"
"yeah." mark moves closer to the bed, sees haechan's lower lip caught in his teeth.
"haechan, stop."
the boy shakes his head roughly, plucking at the strings a little harder.
"what happened? what happened between you and y/n?"
"i'll stop seeing her."
"stop acting like i don't know you," mark mumbles, finally sitting down on the bed. haechan stills, as mark pulls the guitar away from him, his hands going limp as he lets mark set it down at the foot of the bed. "i hate it when you do that."
"i'm sorry." a beat, then haechan buries his face in his hands, pulling at his features, before letting his arms drop down to the bed again. "could you…could you at least tell her?"
"tell her what?"
"that jaemin told me to stay away." haechan fiddles with the hem of his shirt, head still lowered. "i…i shouldn't be the one avoiding her. she should be avoiding me."
"is there a difference?"
"yeah." he mumbles his words, plush lips barely forming each syllable. "because i hurt her. i can't hurt her and then ignore her…that's…that's not right."
"so you want to keep seeing her?"
"i just want…" his voice is hollow, and when he looks up at mark — the dim light in the room catching on the features of his face, mark can finally see the way his lips were raw, skin torn and bitten. his eyes, usually sharp and piercing, are puffy and swollen from crying, dazed pupils blinking up at him. "mark, i don't think i've ever hurt someone like this before."
mark wonders what he could have done, but he doesn't ask. "do you want to make it right?"
"i don't know how." he swallows, throat bobbing. "i don't know if i can."
"maybe avoiding her isn't the best thing…" mark starts, putting a hand on haechan's arm, but haechan flinches.
"the band will kill me. jeno will kill me." mark opens his mouth to argue, but already haechan is leaning back against the headboard, head lowered and looking down at his lap. "i'll do it. i won't see her again."
"it'll be fine" mark reassures, softly. "in a few weeks, after a few more people, you'll forget all about her."
neither of them really believed it.
—
as jaemin sits on the couch — jeno sprawled on an armchair with jisung perched on the armrest, mark sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, he thinks about how these boys have become his close friends. he fits in with them in a way he never has with his other clients — evenings spent photographing them, understanding them through the lens of his camera. cycling trips with jeno, bringing out mark's competitive streak as they drank in the kitchen, babying jisung and taking care of him when the other bandmates weren't around to do so.
and of course, getting to know haechan — teaching him how to use a camera, chatting with him easily about the city. if jaemin was to be honest, haechan intimidated him a little with how guarded he was, every sentence he spoke to jaemin felt like it'd been turned over a million times in his head, each word careful and poised. he also disappeared for long periods of time, sometimes never there during parties.
now jaemin knew what the time had been spent on. who he'd spent it on.
"we're really sorry." it's mark who speaks up first. jisung nods in agreement, while jeno looks on.
"i don't need you to be sorry," mumbles jaemin. "it's not your fault."
"still…" mark scratches the back of his close-cropped hair tentatively. "he mentioned it."
"what did he say?"
"he didn't tell us everything," jisung says, voice hushed. his hair falls over his eyes as he ducks his head in thought. "mostly just told us to stay away."
"did he sound like he wanted them to be exclusive?"
mark and jisung exchange a glance, but it's jeno's voice that answers just as mark's lips part.
"no." when jisung bites his lip, jeno raises his eyebrows, annoyed. "are you kidding? he just said he fucked her more often, and that we should fuck off."
jisung looked wounded. "he didn't say that."
"but that's what he meant."
"mark?"
jaemin calls out to the boy, bringing him out of his thoughts. mark was staring at his own hands, a frown creasing his face.
"haechan agreed," he says, slowly. your name lingers on the tip of his tongue as he says it, like he's tasting the sound, the unfamiliarity of it in his mouth. "i…i think i might know what's going on with haechan, but it's up to him to explain, not me."
"so he won't see her anymore?"
the words come easily to jaemin. he knew it was the deal he was going to make the moment he texted mark to ask if they could talk. he was willing to lose his growing friendship with the rest of the boys if it could give you peace, if all of you could go back to the way things were.
he think back to how he found you — struggling to head out of the door the previous day, barely able to make it to the door, the fever burning up your brain and making your bones ache. he thinks of coming back home to you after he'd went to the pharmacy to get you medicine, slipping his shoes off at the door and immediately knowing that something had changed, from the tears streaming down your face.
"how did this happen?"
"he came to see me" you mumble, struggling with the sleeves of the thick sweater you were trying to pull your arms through. the moment you straighten, you wince as a dull pain throbbed through your head, hunching over again as stars blinked in your vision.
"haechan?"
he sets down the bag of medicine on the kitchen counter, picking up the thermometer and pointing it at your forehead. the light on the screen blinks red, and his eyebrows furrow, the displeased expression on his face only growing stronger.
"why did you open the door?" he asks, slowly. "i thought we talked about this."
"i thought…." your voice is scratchy, as pressure seems to rise inside your skull, pain that made your eyes tear up. it's laughable that you thought he would take care of you, and instead he ripped you to pieces. tears well up in your eyes again, and your lips part, only to let out a small sob.
he grips onto your arm, gently but firmly, steering you back towards your room. you don't have any strength to fight back, it felt like the temperature in the room was at freezing point even though jaemin was only wearing a thin shirt and shorts, and the ache in your bones made every movement shoot pain through your nerves. even after lying down on your bed, swaddled in blankets, the dim light slightly easing the pain in your head, you were too weak to lift your head, stretching your fingers out over the blanket and crawling towards where jaemin's hand rested on the sheets.
he held your hand and listened to you talk, knowing you needed to let it all out. he didn't judge, he didn't make faces. just listened with his eyes closed as you told him about meeting haechan, the way he pulled you away from everyone else and how you'd followed. he observed you quietly through his lashes as you sniffled, breaths breaking up your words.
the story got harder to tell when you recounted moments of his tenderness — when he'd call you his, when he took care of you, when he'd promise to be harsh with you but never went through with it, the way his face fell when you cried. you stuttered and hesitated through it all, because you didn't know if any of it was real or just imagined.
jaemin knows he could have hurt you further — broken every last illusion, pierced through the image of haechan you had in your head. but he didn't have the heart to, so this was the best he could do — making sure it stopped.
"it's done," mark nods, but he looks unhappy.
jaemin doesn't feel the weight lift from his chest like he thought it would. he feels jisung move to sit next to him, a hand on his shoulder as he observes his face.
"i'm really sorry," he mumbles, lips barely moving.
"it's not your fault," jaemin replies, leaning back against the cushions, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
—
haechan is dreaming again.
except it's more memory than dream, the way you're laid up against the pillows, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaves kisses on your inner thighs. it's so vivid, the way you taste, the twitch of your muscles as you tense around him, the small gasp as he pulls away to sit back on his knees.
"please-" you whimper, needy from being teased. scrabbling, you bring your knees to your chest, hands trembling as you hook them on your thighs, tears smearing your cheeks with a dewy glow. you were trying to keep your voice quiet, small sounds barely escaping your lips as you bit down on them, pleading with him through murmurs and barely coherent words. his shirt on your body crinkled everywhere from how he'd been grabbing at it, the long sleeves falling over your palms. it was straight out of a wet dream, which it now was, as you begged him to fuck you, your wet folds slick with spit and arousal as you bared yourself to him, pleading with him to sink into you.
in memory, he croons. he gives you what you asked for — pressing your weight into the mattress as he pushes into you, feel you pulse around him as he goes in hard and deep, feel your body trembling against his.
but in dream, he can be honest enough with himself to admit that it scares him when you cry. that his stomach twists when he hears you beg, like missing a step on a staircase, a second where he's rushing into nothing — not knowing if he'd made you like this, not knowing if he was hurting you. from the girl shaking against him, clumsy hands finding purchase on his shoulders, and you now — hips rocking into nothing, desperate for him.
"i'm here," he whispers, gently taking your hands and slowly lowering your legs down to the bed. he kisses you until your breathing calms and slows, your hands now on the sides of his face, caressing his cheeks. he likes how you touch him as if you could ever bruise him, loving brushes of your fingertips, urgency making your fingers curl into his skin, hesitant scratches on his shoulders that your hands skitter away from.
in dream, he pushes into you slowly, watching the way your lips part, breath caught in your chest, eyes fluttering closed as you take him in. wet sounds fill the room as he begins to move his hips, your face shyly tucked into his chest, your ankles sweetly hooked against his lower back as you melt together. the feelings in his chest intensifying the pleasure he feels from you wrapped around him. his eyes meet yours as you blink up at him, and it's so real — the way you glow against the sheets of his bed, eyes all soft and sparkling with tenderness.
but then he wakes in the same bed: the feeling of you under him, the crash of his heartbeat in his chest, all of it hanging in the dark, a lingering tattoo on his body.
—
so it's almost like a dream, when he opens the door to the stranger's bedroom, to see you slumped on the floor.
the din from below echoes through the hall, the sounds of the overwhelming crowd seeping into the room and reminding him of why he was here. he'd been looking for a quiet place to be alone — the constant eyes on him making him feel self-conscious and jumpy.
back at the apartment, jeno had said he wasn't being like himself, that he hadn't been himself in a long time, the memory of his laugh ringing in haechan's ears as he climbed upstairs. when has a crowd ever bothered you? when have you ever hated attention?
he didn't know the answers.
now haechan stands in the doorway, not believing his eyes. there was no way you'd known he would be here, alone. you're curled in on yourself on the floor, leaning against the bed with your knees tucked to your chest, eyes shut. your body is still, and for just a while longer he lets himself watch you for just a moment — drink in every single detail he'd missed even if it felt like teasing open his own wounds with fingers caked in salt. the rise and fall of your chest, your hair mussed up and falling over your face, the slope of your shoulders, your arms.
and suddenly he's back in his bed, your weight the only thing he was sure of against his chest, drunk on the soft sounds you made, lips barely forming his name.
you don't know he's here yet. he could walk away, leave you by yourself. but something in him told him he couldn't leave you like this in the middle of a party, barely conscious in a stranger's bedroom. before he knows what he's doing, before he can fathom the consequences, he's kneeling before you, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your body. you reek of alcohol, stirring when you feel the weight of the leather on your body, your tongue numb and heavy in your mouth, eyelashes feeling stuck to your cheeks as you struggle to open your eyes.
"y/n?" haechan whispers, choking on the sound of your name.
"haech-" you trail off, fingers coming up to rub your eyes sleepily, the jacket slipping slightly. "haechan." it's the way you say it, like your tongue is too afraid to form the syllables, like something you can't bear to say.
"i-i'm going to find someone," he mumbles, backing away from you, clumsily trying to get to his feet. "you stay here, i'll –"
"don't go-" the words almost get lost from the way you're slurring, lips barely moving, shaking your head as you reach for him again. your fingers slip on the sleeve of his shirt, before curling and holding on tight. "please don't leave."
"i…" pain flickers over his features. he bites his lower lip, body moving towards yours instinctively, your hand crawling up his sleeve and grasping for his arm, fingers digging to the bone as you tremble. but then he feels your breath on his neck, and he pulls away again.
"what happened, y/n? did someone hurt you?" he feels like a hypocrite.
"no," you say, meekly. "i think i just had too much to drink."
"did you come with jaemin?"
you shake your head, nuzzling into him in a way that makes his heart pulse painfully in his chest. "i don't know anyone here."
he still thinks he should get help from any of the girls downstairs. even as you meld yourself a little closer to him, he's almost certain you wouldn't be acting this way if you were sober.
"y/n, i can't. please just let me call jaemin–"
"want you here." you reach for him again, trying to pull him impossibly closer, fitting his body against yours. "don't want jaemin to see me like this."
it dawns on him that besides jaemin, he was the only one you felt comfortable around like this. it wouldn't be the first time he's taken care of you when you were vulnerable or weak, and his body reacts out of habit — pulling you into his arms, his hands gently patting your back as you blink back tears in the crook of his neck. but it still didn't feel right, knowing he was the one who had caused this, and yet he was here holding you.
"let me talk to someone downstairs – i'll see if they can take you home," he murmurs. you bury your face deeper in his neck, shaking your head. "just 5 minutes, okay? i just need 5 minutes —"
"don't want someone to bring me home," you rasp, and his gut twists painfully when i feels your tears damp on his skin. "i don't want to go back to my place. i want to go with you."
"you're going to regret this," he says, softly. to him it's the truth you're not sober enough to see, even if it hurt to tell you. "you don't really want this, y/n."
"is it because you want to find someone else?" your words are soft-edged, lips forming the words carefully, but it pierces him all the same. "is it- is it because you want to bring someone else home?"
"no," he answers, quiet. "i haven't…not in a while."
"so you just don't want to be around me?"
his mind is racing, desperately trying to think of how he could help you, but his mind was coming up with nothing. that same feeling he always had around you — protectiveness intersecting with the ache in his chest everytime your eyes met his, all of it roaring in his ears, louder than the cacophony from any party. for all the times he's claimed he knew what was good for you, he's begun to realise that he has a terrible grasp on how not to hurt you.
"you don't want to be around me," he corrects, but his fate is sealed when you let out a small sob, muffled against his shirt.
and he takes you home.
—
you watch him through your lashes, as he swipes a cotton pad on your face, cleaning off your makeup.
"close your eyes," he mumbles, a slight pout forming on his lips from how hard he was concentrating, trying to be gentle with you. his touches are far too light, and you're sure your makeup is still on your face, but you let your lashes flutter shut anyway, feeling a featherlight brush against your eyelid as he holds it against your eye. dropping the used pad into a small bin, he brings a warm, damp towel up to your face, the material of it soft against your skin.
"can you brush your teeth?" he holds a toothbrush up to your face, but he withdraws it once your hands come up to hold it, completely misjudging the distance and landing on his shoulders instead. "open," he coaxes, parting his own lips so you'd mimic him. he smiles fondly as you open your mouth wide, a hand coming up to hold your face in place. "good girl," he mumbles, and you preen at the praise that shines through your drunken haze, following his instructions to rinse out your mouth.
there's a short pause. having brushed out your hair, removed your makeup and brushed your teeth, the only thing to do next was to get you to bed.
your legs squeeze around his hips, your back against the mirror on his bathroom counter. "haechan," you mumble, tipsiness making you swallow your words. "don't…my clothes…"
"i'll leave them on," he promises, ignoring the way your tight dress looks uncomfortable and unclean to sleep in. "don't worry." of course you don't feel comfortable around him, not after everything.
but for some reason, you're shaking your head, two clumsy hands closing in on one of his and guiding them to your back. "take them off. please–" you add, when he hesitates. "please help me."
"of course," he murmurs, familiarity sparking in his fingertips as they grasp for the zipper, a sense of dejavu in how he drags it down your spine slowly, your back arching slightly. you look at him, drink in the proximity like the first taste of rain after a heatwave — the pretty cut of his eyes, the way his pupils float upwards as he focuses on your back through the mirror. the round tip of his nose, and finally the plushness of his heart-shaped lips. it feels like reprieve, the ache in you finally soothed by the way his breath fans over your cheeks, a gentle balm on an open wound. you lean forward slightly into him as if drawn by a magnetic field, one of your hands coming up to trace the arches of his cupid's bow.
"y/n?" you can feel his lips move, soft like rose petals on your fingertips. "what are you doing?"
"you haven't called me baby all night," you blurt out. "or…or princess." your thumb dips to brush against his lower lip, before he's catching hold of your hand and pulling it away from his face gently.
"i shouldn't," he mumbles, pressing a light kiss to your fingertips before letting go. "i can't."
your dress has gone loose around your body, and you push the sleeves off your shoulders with your hands, letting the fabric drop to your waist. you observe him, watching the way he swallows, throat bobbing when his eyes dart to your chest, lace draped over your curves.
"haechan," you murmur, but then he turns, hands now fumbling with a pile of his clean clothes. he holds out a clean shirt to you, bunching it up at the collar to slip your head through it, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.
"i want that one," you say, softly, pointing to a long sleeved shirt you'd remembered wearing before in the room he'd shared with the boys. something flickers in his eyes, his hands curling into fists before he picks it up. he's putting it over your head, the soft cotton hanging off your shoulders, his hands coming close to your body to guide your arms into the sleeves, until you can't take it anymore.
"haechan, don't you want me?"
his lips part, his hands stilling, slowly unfurling his grasp on you and placing his palms on the counter. "y/n…"
"why aren't you-" you look up at him, biting your lip, your tongue too slow to form the thoughts your mind was racing with. "why haven't you touched me yet? do you not want me like this?"
his heart splinters and fractures. you were so used to it — used to all his touches leading to kisses, kisses leading to him all over your body. "you're drunk." it's the only thing he can say.
"i know what i'm doing," you fire back, but your words lilt and smear together. "ask me anything and i can answer you right now."
but all he does is resume putting your arms through the sleeves, your limbs pliant against him as always, and soon you're completely covered up, and he can breathe a little easier. his strong arms grip your waist, and you're like a ragdoll in his grip as he guides you to stand, the dress at your hips falling, the shirt brushing the top of your thighs.
it gets worse when he sets you down in his bed. in another universe, this might be a moment of bliss for him, something romantic and sweet in the way your body curves against his pillows, sinking down into them and blinking up at him hazily. but guilt still thunders in his chest, his vision split by lightning bolts of fear. you would wake up hating him. he would never stop hurting you. you would never want to see him again.
your arms slide up his, grasping for him. "please," you plead, your voice small. "what did i do wrong? why don't you want to touch me?"
"you didn't do any wrong," he murmurs, as he lets his weight sink into bed next to you, feel you curl up against him. just for a minute he tells himself — just until you fall asleep. your weight on his chest feeling like someone had doused his body with warmth, a comfort that made his eyes prickle with tears. "y/n, you're perfect," he whispers, the words melting into the dark.
"don't say that." he feels tears wet against the soft fabric of his shirt over his chest. "stop saying my name."
"baby," he amends. "sweetheart, go to sleep."
you hum. "haechan."
"don't," he echoes.
"what's wrong?" you mumble, your question heavy with sleep.
he grips onto you tighter, holding you fiercely as tears cloud his vision.
"i'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "i'm so so so sorry." when you don't respond, he nuzzles into your hair, freckling wet kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry," he repeats, long after you've fallen asleep.
—
you wake up to the sound of laughter ringing out against the walls.
the room is as dim as it was last night — dark curtains drawn and the lights turned off. time seemed to have come to a standstill, you couldn't tell if it had been days or weeks or even months since you'd fallen asleep. your body ached, still heavy with sleep while your mind cleared — it had been a while since you've slept this well.
blinking your eyes open, you slowly sit up, feeling sheets warm and soft against your skin. you sit there, dazed, getting your bearings as you survey the unfamiliar room again. your clothes, folded on a small couch next to the window. your jewelry on the bedside table, your phone plugged in to the charger.
the only thing you recognised was the long sleeved shirt unmistakeable on your body, the familiar smell of perfume and body lotion in every fiber of the sheets.
stumbling over to the bathroom, the warm light brings back every memory — the party, the drinks, stumbling upstairs into a room as your consciousness slipped away, and then haechan, haechan, haechan. haechan leading you out of the party, taking you home in his car, taking care of you. your fingers ghost over your forehead, where you swear he kissed you just before you woke up.
you turn off the tap. in the silence, there's another round of giggles, bright like a child's, and then —
"baby, don't move!"
haechan's voice rings lighter than you've ever heard it, and the smile in it is evident. this is a voice without shadows, fondness in every lilt and inflection. with something like urgency, you dry your hands on your shirt, padding out of his room, hesitantly blinking into the sunlit living room.
you almost don't believe your eyes.
haechan is sitting on the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pink lips stuck out in a pout. sitting on the floor, cross-legged between his knees, was a little girl — her hands busy with a doll, while her own hair was being meticulously braided and arranged by the boy…whose head snaps up the moment he hears the creak of the door.
"you're awake," he blurts out, and the girl looks up.
"hi!" she waves shyly, leaning forward towards you, but whining as the motion tugs on her hair instead. "hyuck! it hurts…"
his eyes finally dart away from yours. "i'm sorry," he murmurs, lightly massaging her scalp with the tips of his fingers.
"you're making it messy —"
"right, sorry." he grabs a sparkly pink hairbrush and combs through her hair gently, beginning to rebraid. the girl goes back to her doll, settling back down and quickly losing interest in you.
his eyes flick up to yours again, the tiniest hint of blush on his cheeks. "did you sleep well?"
you nod, feeling like you'd walked in on something you weren't supposed to.
haechan studies your face, a strand of hair falling from his grasp before he tucks it in diligently. "are you hungover? there were painkillers on the bedside table, i don't know if you saw…"
"i'm fine," you croak out.
"and there's breakfast on the table," he murmurs, ducking his head back down to focus on the impressive french braid he was attempting. he looks back up when he feels you staring, as if fixed to the ground beneath your feet.
"is she…?"
"this is my baby sister," he answers, smiling softly. "sorry, i didn't know she was coming over today. her kindergarten is near here so sometimes i walk her to school." and then, with a nod towards the table, "please eat — i made too many sandwiches."
the girl smiles, mumbling softly to herself. "hyuckie makes the best sandwiches."
you can see 'hyuckie' blush at that, his lips pressed together tightly to keep in his smile as he pokes the little girl's cheek softly, going back to the braid. you cross over to the dining table, feet shuffling slowly, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the two siblings, watching the fondness in haechan's eyes. quietly pulling out a chair, you sit down and pick up a sandwich, holding it gingerly between your fingers.
a hushed voice breaks the silence, and you turn to see his sister, cupping her lips against haechan's ear whispering so loud that her words fill the room. "is she your friend?" the girl asks, pointing her pinky finger at you, head tilted with curiosity. haechan's head tilts too, but his eyes wander over to yours as he hesitates.
"yes, she's my friend," he says, slowly. "we're…good friends." sliding the hair ties from his wrist, he finally finishes tying off the braid, before giving the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder. "you can play for 5 more minutes okay? hyuckie needs to talk to his friend."
her round eyes blink at you as she slowly gets to her feet, before tottering over to the window, where another pile of dolls lay. haechan clears his throat, before shuffling over to you and sitting down in a chair next to yours.
although he adjusts himself to face you, he keeps his distance – legs drawn in under the chair, hands placed carefully on his knees in a way you'd never seen him do before. it feels like the space between the both of you spans for entire oceans and continents, an invisible force field that holds weight against your limbs, keeping you from leaning in, incapable of even moving your fingertips.
"are you sure you're okay?"
he looks at you — his expression soft like wax melting around a candle wick.
"do you…do you remember how you got here?"
you nod, taking a deep breath. "the party?"
"i'm sorry that you're here like this," he says, quietly. "i didn't know you were going to be there, i wasn't trying to corner you, i swear."
you nod, dazed.
"are you upset with me? for bringing you here?" at the conflict in your expression, he adds on, hurriedly, "i-i know it wasn't the best thing to do. i could've called jaemin, or mark, or anyone downstairs…it's just that i didn't know…i didn't know if it would be okay–"
" — i'm not upset," you cut him off, the pressure easing as you raise a hand jerkily to place it over his. "i believe you. thank you for taking care of me last night."
he exhales slowly, and when he speaks he sounds even more troubled than before. "you…you shouldn't thank me. you shouldn't thank me for anything."
his eyes dart over to his little sister, checking in on her, and the sense that you're intruding on something creeps up on you again.
haechan had been right — there was so much of him you didn't know. you hardly recognised the boy sitting beside you, despite a vague sense of comfort and familiarity in the slightest traces of his expression, the look in his eyes, his thumb absentmindedly stroking yours. it scared you.
you withdraw your hand, pushing your chair a little further from his, the scrape of it dissonant in your ears. "so, uh, i'll just wait downstairs for the taxi if you don't feel comfortable —"
"taxi?" he looks at you, confused.
"i…i should go now, right?"
"i wasn't going to ask you to go," he says, his voice small. "i was…i was hoping we could talk."
"talk?" you echo. after weeks of nothing? "now?"
"i mean, not right now-" he glances over at the clock, wincing. "but can you stay today?"
there's a pause. you don't think you've ever been able to read him — you've spent days second-guessing every emotion you thought he had, the meaning behind each expression, whether he ever told the truth. but something about him like this makes you hesitate, made your breath catch in your throat. all the ways you've tried to learn how to be immune to his words and his touch slowly melting away, because that was your defense against the version of haechan you thought you knew before.
"i'll understand if you say no," he says, quietly. "but i have things i need to say to you. please."
you don't know what to do.
"hyuckie?"
you both turn. haechan's baby sister is waddling over, her fist clenched around her hair ties as the last remnants of the french braid unravel from her head. she sniffles. "it fell."
haechan's eyes dart back to you quickly, before refocusing his attention away. "it's okay-" he soothes, taking the hair ties from her as he swipes the pad of his thumb on her cheek, brushing off the teardrops that have begun to spill from her lashes. his lips jut out into a pout, his head tilting to meet her gaze. "let's just tie it up and go to school, hm?"
"but i want it in a braid…"
"i can't finish it in time," he says, gently, touching the strands of her hair. "i'm sorry. i promise, we'll do it next time, okay?"
her lip wobbles. "but…"
"let me help," you say, suddenly.
he turns, round eyes wide. "what?"
"i'll do her hair. you still need to get her things right?"
he nods, a little dazed. "really?"
"i'll stay," you murmur, and you slip the hair ties from his loose fingers and sling them around your wrist. "i need to talk to you too."
you can feel his eyes on you as he coaxes his sister towards you, the girl shyly hiding her face in your hands as you swiftly braid two pigtails down her back. he still watches you out of the corner of his eye as he packs her bag, noting the way you listen to her babble on about her days at the school, the way you help adjust the straps of her backpack onto her tiny frame.
he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you think you know the feeling.
—
the bed dips under his weight as he sits down.
"hey," you hear him murmur, and you stir. his hair falls over his face, and he's changed out of his clothes, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perches on his dainty nose. it's foreign, and new…until he pushes back his hair boyishly with an open palm, flicking his head like a puppy after a swim, and the skip in your heartbeat feels all too familiar in your ribcage.
"did you get her to school?"
he nods. "i got us lunch too. and stopped to get groceries." studying your face, he leans in. "i didn't want to wake you up so soon. do you feel better?"
you hum. the morning now seemed like just a dream — haechan and his sister, the breakfast sandwiches. he'd left to walk her to school, telling you to rest in his bed until he got home. now, late afternoon light seeps into the room through the open door, until haechan gets up to close it, once again sealing the room in cozy darkness.
"may i…?" he lifts up the corner of the covers, and you nod, easing yourself to the side as he gets into bed, leaning up against the headboard, his eyes trained on his lap. you lay on your side, that same feeling — as if you couldn't reach out and touch him, as if he existed in a world of his own without you, slowly settling in your body like a familiar ache.
but then there's a shift — and you can feel his gaze warm on your skin. you blink up at him, his pupils focused on yours, pools of the darkest molten brown sucking you into his world. he wets his lips with his tongue nervously, taking a shuddering breath.
"y/n, i'm really sorry."
your heart squeezes a little in your chest. "for?"
"for what i said that night…when i thought…when you didn't show up." he takes another breath. "and for not trusting you, for going to your place after i...." his fists clench the fabrics of the sheets, twisting it in his hands.
you bite your lip. "haechan —"
" — i'm not done." he swallows, voice dipping low. "you were right. i knew you wanted more, i always knew exactly when i hurt you. but i never tried…i never tried to change anything. i'm sorry." his hands reach towards yours for a second, but he hesitates, dropping them back on his lap.
"what would you have changed?" you ask, softly.
"i could have stopped seeing you," he murmurs.
you smile, sadly. "i'm not convinced that would have hurt any less." that was something you knew for sure.
"and i don't think i could have stopped myself," he admits.
"haechan," his eyes move to yours. "why did you invite me?" his breathing picks up, and you want desperately to comfort him, to curl up on his lap and soothe him, but you knew the both of you were afraid of what would happen if you touched. knew the possibility that you'd try to find answers in skin-on-skin, lips-on-lips, and the possibility that it would all be lost in translation again.
"i'm sorry, –" he looks at you sadly. "i think i was just trying to get you to stay. i…" he chews on his lip, glasses sliding a little lower on his slender nose bridge as his head dips. "i regret what i said, but some of it was true. i don't know what i would have done, and i don't think i was ready for…for what you thought it was."
you nod, cheek rubbing against soft sheets, thinking about what he said. "haechan, i don't regret not going. i only wished i'd done it intentionally."
"yeah?" he whispers. the sound sticks in his throat.
"if you hadn't found me yesterday…would you still have looked for me? talked to me? i'm not hurt that you didn't find me sooner-" you cut in, when you see the guilt on his features, the parting of his lips in apology. "time apart….time apart was good. i needed it to clear my head. i….i couldn't stop myself around you."
he doesn't say anything, for a while. "jaemin came over," he says, slowly. "and he said i couldn't talk to you or he would stop working with the band and it was decided for me."
"he what?"
haechan shakes his head. "i don't blame him. i'm not going to pretend that i couldn't have still talked to you if i really wanted to. i'm selfish enough to do that, i'll admit. i didn't reach out because i didn't know what to say, and i didn't know what i wanted."
"and now?"
he closes his eyes. "time apart was good," he murmurs, echoing your words. "it gave me a chance to go back to a time before."
your breath catches.
" — but i couldn't. i don't think i can take it any longer. i missed you, y/n. i miss you now, even as you're here."
"you miss me?"
something bothered you about it, hearing him say those words. when he'd pulled you away repeatedly in the weeks you've known each other, when he came for you time and time again, was that missing you too? were things different now?
"i miss spending time with you," he says, almost timidly. "not just…not just sex. everything. i know it's selfish…" his eyes blink open, and he pushed his glasses up, avoiding your gaze. "i didn't mean to pressure you to come back. you can forget i said that."
he shakes his head, trying to clear it.
"i just wanted to tell you i'm sorry for hurting you."
you'd never dared hope for a real apology from him. some part of you expected, or even secretly wished, he would find you again after that night, lie through his teeth to win you back. and in the weeks that followed, you took his silence to mean he didn't even care enough to do that.
and now here you were, sitting with him. after days and nights, he's had time to really mean his words — he wasn't himself, which is maybe why you believed he was telling the truth.
you think you know now, why he refused to let you in. why he hadn't wanted to take your first time, something so intimate and romantic that it would have pierced right through the layers he'd built up around himself. why he drew away so many nights when your touch lingered on each others' skin, when you wanted him to stay.
"haechan," you say, quietly. "i need you to understand that i…that i've learned how to be hurt by you. i don't want to go back to how we were before."
he nods, quickly. "of course."
"and…you say you knew i wanted more. so you know that i wanted to be with you…romantically, right?"
"i know." the words are so quiet, you barely catch them.
"if…if i come back, i don't think i want that anymore." you say, gentle, but firm. jaemin was right — you couldn't let yourself forget all the ways he hurt you. "i associate us with too much hurt. i can't trust you with my heart, can you understand that?"
there's silence. he's nodding, but when his lips part, he's wordless.
"haechan?"
"i understand," he murmurs. "i'm…i didn't…" he breaks off, fiddling with the covers, lip caught in his teeth. "whatever happens next will only happen on your terms," he says, softly. "i only want to do what you want to do, okay?"
your brow furrows. "but haechan, if you don't feel comfortable with something –"
"i'm fine as long as you still want to see me," he whispers.
"if you don't want to let me in, i won't push anymore." you realize you truly mean it when you make the offer out loud. even if it hurt to know that you may never see him like this again, you press on, jaemin's advice resurfacing in your mind again. "you don't owe me any more of yourself. if you want it to just be sex, we can do that – but you have to commit to it too. so no more getting jealous, or —"
" – that's not possible."
"you're not making any sense." you should've been hurt, but sitting here now — looking at him, the way he melts into his room, fuzzy at the edges, soft curves of his face, you can't feel any of it. finally, you're beginning to see that he's just as lost as you are. his head is still bowed low, taking in every word you say like a weight he carries upon him.
"it's not possible because you already know me. you know enough of me that i couldn't perform with you in the crowd, can't be myself around you at a party. i can't stand there onstage, do things like eyefuck girls and play the guitar and pretend to be someone else, while feeling your eyes on me. you'd see right through me."
he sounds like he's on the verge of tears, his voice achy and raw. and as you look up at him, tears are smudging on his waterline, his cheeks glistening as he sniffles.
"i said i'd be fine with anything," he breathes shakily, as he starts to cry, sharp inhales punctuating his words. "and i am, i really am. i-i'm not in the position to set terms. it's fine if you don't want to know me, but i can't pretend we're just strangers anymore. i won't be able to."
words you'd said to him — you can't think i still want to know you, after everything.
for a moment, you entertain the idea that you've hurt him too.
"i don't think i can pretend either," you murmur. "i hated it when you pretended like you didn't know me. like you'd never seen me before."
i'm s-sorry, he chokes, but the syllables scattered across his sobs. he claps a hand to his mouth as his breathing speeds up even more, tears wetting his shirt, achy sounds muffled against his palm. and finally you sit up, limbs still clumsy and heavy from sleep, and you wrap your arms around him, and arm slung over his chest, another around his waist, just like you wanted to all this time.
his breath shudders against your palms, warm body against your skin. you bury your face in his neck, breathe in the familiar smell of him that changed no matter who he was or whoever he was pretending to be, until his breathing slows and his sobs come to a shaky stop.
"i missed you too, haechan," you breathe. he shakes his head. "i did-" you insist, but he shakes his head again, a hand coming to touch your arm on his waist, squeezing tight.
"not haechan, donghyuck," he whispers.
"donghyuck," you correct, stroking the side of his cheek lovingly, your fingertip stained with his tears. "i missed you."
"i missed you too." he says it like the words are dangerous, hushed and quiet. "are you…are you really coming back to me?"
"do you think we can be friends?" you ask, tentatively. not lovers, not strangers. this was the only in-between you knew that could do justice to the ways you knew each other, the only way you could see yourself holding on to him now.
he looks at you for a long time, until you forget your question. his nose is tinted pink, his eyes still watery as he drowns in his thoughts.
he swallows. "are you sure?" he asks, softly. "your first time being with someone…and it's not even a real relationship."
"you're doing that thing again," you murmur. "where you tell me what's good for me. how i should do things." you soften when you look up, seeing the guilt in his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. "i'm asking you again," you say, slowly. "do you think we can be friends?"
this time, he nods. "yeah," he murmurs. "friends who…"
you nod too, feeling your cheeks burn, and then you lean in — slotting your lips against his.
for a second, he doesn't kiss you back, and your stomach swoops.
but then his mouth is moving against yours, soft and gentle. a close-lipped kiss, just the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses together, your eyes slowly fluttering shut to focus on the feeling. and even though you'd just agreed — even though you were the one who suggested it, a part of you wondered if you could ever only want to be friends with lee donghyuck.
—
you sit at the dinner table, and haechan's entire body aches with a longing that crests over him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs.
he recalls the way he'd felt earlier, walking back across the park from the kindergarten, stopping by the grocery store and wandering the brightly-lit aisles, turning over pasta sauce and soup stock in his hands. the knowledge that you were in his home, sleeping, that he would turn the key in the lock and you would be waiting for him — burned down his throat like alcohol, a bonfire in his stomach. it felt like playing pretend. he was afraid to even drive you back to your apartment, to walk you to your door, to look at you too long in the moments after. and yet here he was, tipsy off the sweetness of being able to come home to you.
after the talk, neither of you had gone much further than kissing.
"i missed you so much," he murmurs – his voice crumpling under the weight of his own words.
"do you want to show me?" your tone is lightly teasing, dipping low as you keep your smile on your face. the warmth coursing through your body has nothing to do with the blankets pooling around your thighs, and everything to do with the boy sitting across from you — doll-like legs with miles of silky skin splayed out over the sheets, back slouching against the headboard, all crumpled in and soft and worn.
if you had gone to the bar weeks ago, let him guide you to this home, to this bed, you might already be familiar with this soft mattress in a whole different way.
neither of you can deny the way your minds wander there still, despite everything. him missing your body framed against his, you craving the sink of his chest, the curve of his waist.
there's silence, as his words register in the boy's head, pain flickering over his features. if he was feeling more like himself, he would pulled you in, caged you under him. tugged at that side of you that was always so pliant and easy for him and watched you unravel under his fingertips. the words are on the tip of his tongue — i'll show you. did you miss me too? kiss me. stay with me.
instead, his fingers withdraw, and gently touch the soft cotton of his shirt's hem, warm light flickering in his eyes. "not like this," he murmurs quietly. "not…not now."
you let out a breath, tension dissipating. "yeah," you'd murmured. "you're right."
you'd gone to take a shower while he prepared dinner. there was something terribly domestic about all of it — you padding into the living room again, each fiber of your being smelling so much like him. the way he turned from where he stood guarding the soup bubbling on the stove to see you in one of his shirts, a towel draped over your shoulders. the feelings he hadn't learned to pin down, hadn't had the time to sort, intensified in his chest, an ache lodged inside him.
friends. he'd introduced you to his sister as his friend, watched you braid her hair and laugh with her softly, heard your sweet voice wishing her good luck with school. the nights he'd spent with you by his side — talking about the band, about his tattoos. asking about how he did during the show, seeking your praise, wanting to know so badly how he appeared in your eyes. the way you somehow reached right through him and made him listen, made him stop. was that friendship?
now with all the plates cleared and washed, the sounds of your clothes tumbling in his washing machine in the background, the smell of black nail polish prickled his nose as you leaned over. your fingers brushing his, holding them in place.
"should i make it a little messy?" your voice is light.
"it's usually messy because i get my sister to do it," he tells you, softly. "you don't have to mimic how it looks."
you nod, a small smile on your face as you dip the brush back in the bottle. there's silence, for a while, as he watches you, studying the way you look with your head bowed, feeling each careful touch of your fingers, and then —
"do you want to talk about rules now?"
you look up at him just briefly before going back to the task. he swallows.
"sure."
another pause. and then quietly, "you can't get jealous anymore, you know that right?"
"i know," he murmurs. "you told me to stop before…but i didn't. i'm sorry."
you nod. "you can't be possessive of me, either."
he hesitates. "so…no marking?"
slowly, you let go of his left hand. "you can still leave hickeys and bruises," you mumble. "just don't…don't call me yours you know?"
he didn't know if he could do that. "okay," he says, softly. "i'll try." and then, slowly and carefully, he asks, "are you going to keep coming to our shows?"
the slide drag of the brush on his nail stops. "do you want me to?"
he bites his lip. "i want you there," he says, slowly. "but i don't know if i'll be okay with having you in the crowd."
"oh."
"maybe you can watch from backstage. or the wings. i want you to," he adds, when you look troubled. "please."
"are we still a secret?"
his lips part. he wanted to say yes — but it was the way you'd asked it, like it was something you feared, that made him hesitate.
"because," you continue. "it didn't feel good, keeping it from jaemin. and as i said, i hated it when you pretended we were strangers."
he felt your hands leave his, capping the bottle of nail polish as you leaned back in your chair, tucking your knees to your chest. he keeps his hands splayed on the table, taking a deep breath.
"no more secrets," he agrees. "and stop going to those parties, y/n. if you want to see me, just tell me."
you raise your eyebrows. "we're not exclusive," you point out, slowly. "i don't go to the parties just for you. haechan, if you don't think you can do this…"
"i can," he says, hurriedly. "i'm sorry. if i see you at a party…i'll say you're my friend. i'm sorry, it's just that i…i'm just…."
"it's okay." giving him a small smile, you get to your feet, shuffling over to the kitchen. you don't hear him come closer as you fill up a glass of water on the kitchen, only know of his presence as his hand touches your shoulder carefully.
"don't go," he murmurs. his arms slide around your body, gently pulling you towards him, and you turn slightly so you can see his face.
"i'm still here," you respond, softly.
but he shakes his head. "don't go."
you turn around in his arms and your lips brush, his own parting against yours, seeking permission. all the time he wonders when he'll stop kissing you like he's swearing an oath — devoted in the way he wraps his lips around yours, patient and true in the way his tongue moves against yours, and even now, something loving in the way he murmurs your name into the cavern of your mouth. his hands move carefully on your skin, nail polish still drying on his fingertips, and if either of you question the way you kiss, you keep it to yourselves.
—
it's different, watching haechan perform, when he's not performing for you.
you saw the way his eyes flitted through the crowd, making and breaking eye contact so fast it was hard to keep track of, each twitch of his expression rehearsed and calculated. a teasing part of his lips, sinful face fluttery and slack as the music crashed all around him, like he could physically feel it. he was right — you didn't see him the same. you knew it was the performance, that he was really the one trying to please the crowd, riding off the pleasure of attention. but despite seeing through it as he had said, it still had you feeling tightly wound inside, pressure building up inside you, a craving for his touch intensifying with each time his hips shifted against his guitar.
and even worse was the way your heartbeat would trip over itself every time haechan's eyes flickered over to you. never during a song, but in the moments between — mark's voice speaking through the mic, the rest of the boys checking on their instruments or interacting with the crowd. he would look over at you briefly, almost shyly, his heart-shaped lips creasing into a smile.
"friends?"
the moment you'd arrived home, you had pleaded with jaemin not to be upset with haechan, but it turned out you didn't need to. haechan had left a message the night of the party, and when you'd walked in looking more well rested and collected than you'd had in days, jaemin knew that you had been safe. you'd reassured him too, when he asked if keeping you from him only made things worse. both of you had needed that time to come to this conclusion. only time would tell if it was the right one.
"so you're going to be friends with benefits?" jaemin raised his eyebrows. "was this his idea or yours?"
"mine," you mumble. feeling the need to defend yourself, you raise your voice just slightly. "i just think that…i want to keep seeing him, and i want to get to know him…but i don't want him in that way. anymore," you add, when jaemin bites his lip.
"did you really lose feelings, or are you just not ready?" he asks, quietly.
you force a laugh out of your chest. "you think i'd still have feelings for someone who hurt me that much?" you try to say it sarcastically, but you don't have the heart to. the words have no bite, and instead truth echoes in the spaces between.
"that's not the worst thing in the world, y/n." his voice is steady, and calm. "it's okay to take your time. if you remember that lying to yourself will only hurt more."
but there are things to soothe the ache.
"did you like the show?"
haechan roughly tugs off his jacket, letting it slump off his shoulders and onto the floor. the moment the last song ended he'd rushed off stage and right to you, eyes blazing under his heavy makeup, the both of you stumbling into one of the small storerooms backstage.
a single small lightbulb barely illuminates the small space, bathing you in warm light and shadow. shelves of boxes line most of the walls, except for a sliver of space that currently presses against your back, your fingers touching the cold surface.
"it was good," you murmur.
"yeah?"
he's still hungry for more. you can see it in his eyes — for all his good girls and you're perfect, you knew he craved to be adored too.
"you were right," you say, softly. "it feels different, watching as your friend."
his smile falters.
"i…i like it more," you continue. "being in the wings…makes me want to get your attention."
"you have my attention now, princess," he points out. he touches a hand to your waist.
it's almost scary, how you slip back into old patterns. a heady rush filling your senses, slowly dragging you under. this is why i couldn't stop, you think, as he leans in ever closer, his eyes glazed over as his gaze slides to your lips.
there's a beat.
"i forgot to ask," he mumbles. "no possessiveness right?"
your mind clears, just a bit. you nod, breathlessly.
"what else?" he asks. looking at you, timidly, he asks. "can i…are pet names okay? can i still call you baby?"
"baby's fine," you whisper.
"princess?"
"hmm?"
"no," he smiles fondly at you. "i was asking if calling you princess was okay."
you want to bury your face in your hands. or his chest. "princess is fine."
his smile grows wider, before he suddenly turns serious again. "are we starting anew?" he asks, hesitantly. "can i…can i bring up things from before? or are we pretending that this is our first time…"
"no more pretending," you murmur, feeling like a hypocrite. "why? did you want to bring up something?"
"kind of," he nods towards the door. "just thought you're going to love this," he says, slyly. "hearing stage crew and bandmates walking by, knowing that at any point someone could hear us, someone could come in…"
and now you do bury your face in your hands, and when he reaches around to hug you, you lean against his chest, feeling his laugh vibrate against you, feeling you with warmth.
"it's okay," he murmurs, as his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. "i won't play with them this time, baby. today's all about you, hm?"
his hands falter, perhaps realizing the words were too tender, a little too loving for what you both claimed this would be.
"lets try not to do anything…romantic?" you mumble.
you regret the words as soon as you say them, your teeth biting into your lip sharply.
haechan's face has shuttered down. you can't read his expression, as he nods, taking your hands in his and kissing them.
"please." you look at him, this time taking the dive, feeling yourself free-falling towards that familiar desire, letting the current swallow you whole. "i need you."
in spite of everything, haechan's lips are as gentle as they've always been.
his lips brush yours, once, twice, before he locks in his kiss, hands trembling slightly as he touches the side of your face, cups you in his palms. you want to ask him what's wrong, pulling away slightly, but he makes a wounded sound from the back of his throat, pressing you against the wall, his head dipping to kiss you fiercely. his tongue slides against yours, and he groans low against your lips.
your hands fumble on his shirt, skimming his broad shoulders, strong arms. he pants into your mouth when your drag your nails down his chest, breaking away. tugging his shirt roughly over his head, he grabs your hands and places them on his chest before leaning in to kiss you again, this time working his way down your neck, his wet kisses making your body shudder as you cling onto him for support.
"please," you murmur, wondering why he was staying so silent. "please-"
but he shakes his head, fingers tracing your jaw, tilting your head up so he lap his tongue over a newly formed bruise. the room is silent save for the sound of his lips, but you crave his voice, his words guiding you through everything, the lilting cadence of it.
"haechan-" a foreign feeling spikes in your stomach as he ignores you, continuing to kiss his way down to your collarbones, fingers tugging your collar wide open. it felt like he wasn't there at all.
he breathes heavy against your skin as he curls his hands around your hips, holding on tight. still he doesn't say a word, or even make a sound, as his caress the back of your thighs.
"stop-" you blurt out. roughly, you take his hands in yours, gripping them by the wrists.
he lifts his head.
"haechan," you start, but he just looks at you. your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.
"haechan, you're scaring me." your voice is panicked and tight, the tension so overwhelming that tears begin to blur your vision, your chest rising and falling faster.
"baby?" he asks, alarmed. "what's wrong?"
"please talk to me," you beg, wiping away the tears on your cheek. the ache has soothed slightly at his voice, but you need more. "why…why aren't you talking? you always…you always used to-"
"i'm sorry," he whispers, pulling your body into his, wrapping his bare arms around you. "i'm here," he soothes, in your ear. "i'm here," he mumbles again, and again, until your breathing calms down.
"i'm sorry," he repeats, kissing you softly. "i'm here now, baby, okay?"
you nod, and now you guide his hands to your thighs, feel the way his breathing hitches.
"can i…?"
"please," you say, breathlessly, and his hand cups your warm core.
"fuck," he blurts out. you were so warm, the seat of your panties completely soaked through. he slides them to the side with nimble fingers, inhaling sharply as he strokes your folds.
"how are you so wet? fuck-"
"take them off," you plead, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your skin. immediately, he tugs your panties and skirt down roughly, almost frustrated, barely waiting for you to step out of them before encouraging you to spread your legs wider as he strokes you, fingers dipping to catch at your entrance, your swollen clit.
"so fucking wet," he marvels, groaning slightly as he swipes his fingers softly .
"from watching you perform," you say, softly.
the words send pleasure thrumming low in his navel. "yeah?" he murmurs, eyes meeting yours.
slowly, he drops to his knees, and suddenly you feel hypersensitive — his breath on your thighs, hands gripping you tightly. he suckles a kiss close to your core, and you whine, loudly, the sound too loud in the small space.
he looks up at you, sultry eyes framed in dark eyeliner. "let me hear you, baby," he coaxes, easing your legs open. he sticks out the tip of his tongue, and gives your clit a gentle flick, your hips bucking into his face before you can stop yourself. "i've been dreaming about this," he sighs, before he closes in and suckles on your clit.
he lapped at you like all he'd done in your days apart was think about how best to do it — alternating between suckling on your clit, licking your folds with his tongue wide and flat, and prodding at your entrance. one hand keeping you pressed against the wall, his other slips around your entrance, sliding in one long finger, the way your walls suck him in making him moan, vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. you can feel the jut of his finger joints, the pad of his finger curling against your walls, while his tongue focuses on your clit, drawing shapes and letters expertly.
you slump further against the wall, the pleasure making your legs shake, unable to hold yourself up, your hands tangled in his hair, knotting them around your fingers.
"i can't stand-" you're cut off by a moan, as he bites into your thigh, licking up the wetness that stains them, a mix of your arousal and his saliva. "please," you wish you were on a bed, wish both of you had had more patience to go somewhere and do this right, feel the whole weight of his body on yours.
"cum," he pants, sucking on your clit with his plush lips as he coaxes another finger into your warm, now mimicking a vibrating motion with his hand as he pushes in hard and fast. he doesn't break away even as he moans out, now curling his fingers languidly against your walls. "fuck, baby, i need you to cum now because i can't wait any longer-"
his tongue presses onto your clit, and the pressure pushes you overboard. his hand the only thing keeping you upright, pushing roughly into you, he eats you out until your orgasm is over, kitten licking your clit as his head moves this way and that. you open your eyes and see him staring right at you, desire pulsing in his pupils, eyes blown out and dark.
"good?" he breathes, both hands now gripping you tight. you nod, swallowing and gasping. his face is smeared with you, mouth and nose shining and glossy. he licks around his lips, mouth hanging open as his eyes glint.
"more?" he asks, and you nod, gasping, falling to your knees. now, you're finally able to touch him, as your body crashes into his, causing him to nearly tip over from how he kneels, sitting back on his ankles to draw you into him. you kiss him deeply, letting his lips wrap around your tongue just the way you loved it, feel his hum vibrate against your own chest.
his hands ghost under your shirt, and you help him pull it off, his hands cupping your breasts with his familiar touch, sucking kisses down your cleavage as you gasp for air. his hands roam your body indulgently, as if he was afraid you'd dissolve if he wasn't mapping your skin with his palms, his tongue, his lips. one hand trailing up and down your back, unclasping your bra, while the other squeezes the back of your thighs, resting his hand on your ass.
he suckles on your nipples like he had all the time in the world, as if you weren't in a cramped store room feeling as if you were about to explode from his touch alone. gentle tongue drawing circles around the bud, eyes staring up at yours with devotion. your hips move against his, and his eyes flutter shut as he sighs, his hips starting to grind up against you as well.
"turn around," he mumbles. "now, princess."
"i want to see you," you protest, hands gripping onto his arms as he slowly walks forward on his knees, pushing you towards the wall.
"i'm sorry, baby-" he kisses you, placatory and sweet. "we'll go again in my bedroom later, okay? need you like this now."
you let him maneuver you until you're facing the wall, legs spread apart as he kneels in between. trying to soothe you, he rubs a hand over your stomach, reminding you of his presence the entire time he rids himself of his jeans and underwear, rolling on a condom, tension building with every small sound, until you can feel something thick and heavy press between your legs.
"haechan-" you pant, your back arching just slightly as you lean towards the wall for support, feeling his hand squeeze your hip.
"i know," he mumbles, making slight shushing sounds as he eases himself against you. "i know, baby."
even though he was behind you, you knew the face he would make as you felt his tip slowly push past your entrance, the way his eyebrows would float upwards as his eyes went unfocused, lips parting in a lovely 'ah- ah' that he tried hard to contain behind hisses and bitten lips. part of you still wants to see it, but all thoughts are lost as he fully sheaths himself into you, feeling him deep inside from the position. his hand on your hip creeps over to your navel, and he pushes gently over where he was buried inside you, the pressure somehow intensifying as you feel full from all sides.
slowly, his body presses you further into the wall, and you gasp as the cool surface brushes your chest. he kisses the nape of your neck, and your body trembles, shifting against him and whining as you clench around him from sensitivity. behind you, haechan mumbles out a string of curses, hips jolting forward unsteadily before he stops himself.
"please move," you whisper, and he moans, finally thrusting into you. he finds a rhythm that's slow and deep, feeling full and stretched out each time you throb around him. a particularly harsh thrust has you whining, your hips tilting towards the wall, trying to get away, but suddenly the solid weight of his body presses against you ever harsher as he rolls his hips, his chest pressed to your back. he feels stronger, and sturdier than he ever did before, as a hand creeps down to your clit and begins to rub slow and lazy circles, his body attuned to yours. you jolt away from the simulation, ass suddenly jolting back against his length, making you cry out again, sandwiched between pleasure.
"don't run from it," he coaxes. "just take it, hm?"
you had nowhere to go as he fucks himself into you, wet sounds filling the small space, and you're sure the floor is wet with your arousal, can feel your next climax approaching fast, making you forget about the ache in your knees and in the way your head pressed against the hard wall. you begin to shake in his hold, trying to fuck yourself back on his cock while he bullies your clit relentlessly, but once again his chest presses into you, strong arms holding you firmly in place as he overflows your body with pleasure, a hand slowly grasping yours and squeezing.
"i missed you, baby," he says, quietly, voice surprisingly steady despite the way he was ramming into you. "i really missed you." his lips brush the shell of your ear.
you cum unexpectedly, crying out, squeezing tight around him as all the muscles in your body tense. your hand squeezes tight around his as the other rubs quick circles on your clit, working you through your orgasm. you can feel him still behind you as he cums too, whining in a pitch and tone you'd never heard from him before, desperate and achy as you clench around him again from the sound, so sensual that it rekindles a fire inside you despite the soreness in all your limbs.
your weak hands fumble against him, scrabbling against his strong grip. he pulls out with a hiss, helping you turn around to face him. in the semi-darkness, you can see the concern pooling in his eyes, bright and scared.
"was it too rough?" he asks, breathlessly. his hands skim your frame, pulling you onto his lap.
you shake your head, nuzzling into him. you're torn between watching that silvery glow in his eyes, makeup smudged around all his corners, and burying yourself deep inside his chest until you can feel his heartbeat on your cheek.
"baby? are you alright?" he rubs gentle circles on your back, as you nod. "use your words, please," he says, softly.
"you got stronger," you blurt out.
"did i hurt you?" he moves against you, something protective in the way he holds you that makes your body sing with warmth.
"no," you say shyly. "i loved it."
you lift your head just quick enough to catch the way his face crumples. before you can ask, he leans in and he's kissing you again — soft, gentle, sweet and almost shy. when you part, he looks dazed, eyes drifting down to your lips and wandering back up to your eyes.
"you deserve better," he says, quietly.
he looks down, at the way you're sitting in his lap, and then tilts his head sharply to look around the store room, as if he meant you deserved better than this for your first time back with him. as if this was about sex at all.
you take a deep breath, and shake your head. "haechan, you're exactly what i deserve."
the name rings out in the space. it seems to ground him, and he shakes his head to clear it, slowly untangling himself from you as he gets ready to help you up.
you swallow. "take me home," you tell him. "take care of me."
he does exactly as you say.
—
attention simmers on your skin, a palpable heat you're unable to shake.
girls circle the kitchen island like sharks, eyes glinting under the fluorescent lights, but they're never able to come close as it's so clear haechan's focus is entirely on you. haechan's back is turned to the party as he sits on the counter, long legs spilling over and the muscles in his thick thighs accentuated by the way he sits, denim stretched tight and each gaping hole making you doubt your decision to come to the party here, instead of going over to his home.
it was his party, and he should go. the fans would be upset if he didn't at least show. now you were seriously regretting it, as you ducked your head to avoid the glare of another crowd as they passed by, while haechan knocked back another drink.
he had been alight with energy ever since the show ended — agreeing amiably when you suggested going to the party, his smile only wavering when you reminded him he couldn't get jealous. and while your eyes wandered around the party, drinking in the scenes you hadn't seen in awhile, he was doing everything in his power to keep your attention on him, camera strap hanging from his neck as he clicked through the photos, pointing out the parts where jaemin had helped him, explaining the stories behind the pictures.
"i didn't know you were into photography." it's a stupid statement, that you want to retract immediately. of course you didn't – you didn't know much about him at all. but it makes him smile a little proudly, clicking on the dial to speed through the photos.
"yeah well, i've never taken a photo of you." he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. "i know for sure because when we…you know…when we weren't seeing each other, and i missed you…" his cheeks are burning up, his mouth barely moving as he tries to fumble through the rest of the sentence, plush lips swallowing his words. "i couldn't find any photos of you. on my camera or in my phone or…" he trails off.
your heart thrums harder in your chest. "yeah?"
"do…do you have photos of me?" he asks. timidly, softly. his eyes trained on his camera, unseeing, breath held in his chest waiting for your answer.
"of course i do," you murmur. you hope he can hear the smile in your voice, know that it's for him. "rockstar."
his fingers twitch, and he looks up at you, a searing intensity in his eyes that wasn't there before, flames licking at your cheeks as you hold his gaze, a warmth that sparks down your spine like fireworks. the sounds of the party fade away, sealing you in the vacuum of his attention.
"y/n," his voice drops an octave, all the softness drained out of it.
"haechan?"
"let me take a photo of you," he murmurs. "please."
"now?"
"no, not now," he says, slowly. "you know what i mean, princess."
but you never get to clarify, because someone taps you lightly on the shoulder. haechan's eyes flicker behind you, all the intensity faded out, and it feels like your lungs fill with air again as you turn to see jisung, holding two cups in his hands, one of which he's holding out to you.
you're torn between crushing guilt, and relief that he doesn't hate you.
"j-jisung," you splutter. "jisung, hi."
"hi, y/n." he smiles, nudging the cup towards you again, and you take it. almost against your will, your eyes dart over to haechan, but his face is impassive and neutral, camera laying forgotten on his lap as he turns quickly to survey the party behind him. was he trying to offer you privacy, or was he upset?
you sip from the drink, trying not to make a face at the overwhelming sweetness that floods your tastebuds. the boy had barely put any alcohol in it. your hand almost inches towards the cup haechan made for you, wanting to balance out the taste, before you stop yourself.
you didn't want to hurt his feelings again.
"it's been a while," you say, sheepishly. "and again, i'm really sorry about last time."
"it's okay," he says, cheerfully. "haechan already apologised. besides, you can make it up to me on our date."
jisung's words have a physical effect on haechan. you feel him tense up behind you, body going stiff as he turns back to watch you, eyes trained on the side of your face.
"you still owe me a date." you don't know if it's determination, or sheer recklessness, that inspired jisung to say this to you as you stood in the kitchen with haechan just inches away, the side of his thigh still brushing your waist. "are you free tomorrow night?"
you try your best not to look at haechan. he had no right to care, you didn't owe him anything. you didn't know what you wanted to see on his face either way — whether his jealousy would make you angry, whether his sadness would hurt you instead.
"i am," you agree, hesitantly, and jisung's close-lipped smile blooms.
—
"you know there are other boys out there right? that there's a world beyond the band?"
"shut up, jaemin," you mumble, checking your reflection in the dressing room mirror one last time.
"this is good for you." his tone has changed, as he leans against the locked door. "jisung is nice. i hope it works out."
tonight's show had been different. jaemin had reluctantly confirmed that it wasn't just your imagination — the way haechan was quieter throughout, more self-conscious in his performance, eyes barely scanning the crowd, taking longer glances at you throughout the show. jisung's confidence, on the other hand, poured off him in waves, his jacket unzipped, gums showing as he smiled wide.
"i know." you sling your bag across your body, adjusting your skirt, as you turn to face him, taking a deep breath. "i'm really giving him a chance, jaemin. i'm…i'm taking this seriously, even if you don't believe me." it wasn't a lie. you barely knew anything about jisung, and jisung barely knew anything about you — but he was always sincere and sweet, quietly brave under his shyness. you couldn't forget the way he looked at you even with haechan by your side. it made you want to give him a chance too.
"i believe you," he reassures. "good luck, okay?" the door unlatches with a small click, and he gives you one last wave before heading out into the corridor.
your eyes dart back to your reflection one last time before you turn back, satisfied with your appearance, and start towards the door. you barely take a step before there's a creak, and you think it's jaemin coming back, or perhaps jisung, wondering why you took so long.
but of course, things are never easy.
a familiar face enters the room, pushing the door open wide. he doesn't bother to close it, just takes you in for a second — eyes sweeping your frame, taking in your jewelry, the hints of makeup on your skin, your clothes, your neat hair. dejavu crawls over your skin, remembering the first time you'd met jisung, the way haechan had cornered you in the dressing room after, too. you tense your shoulders, preparing for the fight.
"you look nice," he says, quietly.
your lips part. "haechan-"
but before you can speak, he's blurting out his next words. "j-jisung's going to love it," he stammers out, shadows flickering in his gaze as he swallows, throat bobbing. "i… i just came here to say good luck." at your surprised expression, his lips curve up into a sad smile. "that…that's what friends do, right?"
"yeah." your hands grip onto the sling of your bag tightly, afraid of what your hands would do if you let go.
"i'm going to go now," he mumbles. "i…have fun, y/n."
there isn't a trace of sarcasm in his tone, his eyes soft and fond. he leaves before you can say another word, not closing the door behind him. you can hear his boots all the way down the corridor, can hear him disappear up the stairs.
you try not to think about his voice, as you take the back exit out of the venue, see jisung standing in the warm summer night, smiling under a streetlight. try not to dwell on the fact that haechan might have actually wished the best for you – no more layers of pretense under pretense, no more feelings without reason.
it's easier said than done.
—
two hours pass, your food gone from your plates, only the dregs of your drinks left in their glasses, before jisung finally clears his throat.
"this isn't working out, is it?"
"i'm sorry," you say, biting your lip. you'd walked to see a movie, something jisung had picked out, but had been mind-numbingly dull to you. you settled to watch his reactions instead, the way his hands flew over his eyes at the more intense scenes, the way he bit down on his fingers when the tension spiked. it was cute, but less so when he started asking you questions about the movie, and you had to admit you didn't remember any part of the plot past the first 20 minutes.
late night dinner hadn't been better, each topic running itself to the ground quickly, your opinions and lack of opinions causing each conversation to crash to an uncomfortable halt. good things take time, had been jaemin's text to you when you asked for help. you were sure that jisung and you weren't acting like your true selves, the prospect of the date altering the way you talked and responded to each other, until you'd finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you just weren't compatible.
"i really thought this would work out," jisung says, a tinge of sadness coloring his words.
"i wanted it to," you confess. selfishly, you had almost been excited at the prospect of things working out with jisung — needing confirmation that you could still feel for others. excited for the date leading to the next, to fall in love with surety.
excited to find the first relationship, the first 'you and i' that haechan seemed to think you deserved.
"it's okay," jisung reaches out, pats your hand clumsily, shyly, as if surprised that reaching towards you meant he actually got to touch you "i didn't know much about you when i asked you out, anyway. just thought you were really pretty." he looks mortified again, and it makes you laugh — everything about him still endearing.
"do you want to just be friends?" you ask, gently.
it's like a weight lifts from the conversation, and he sighs, relieved. "yeah," he echoes. "friends."
the silence that follows is a lot more peaceful. jisung slumps slightly in his seat, like the tension has left his body. his deep voice somehow still manages to sound timid when he speaks up next.
"since we're friends…"
you nod, encouragingly, taking a last sip of your drink.
"can i ask…do you like haechan?"
you nearly choke. jisung was looking at you carefully, although he smiled at the expression on your face.
"a-are you sure you want to talk about this?' you stammer.
he shrugs, but there's something unreadable in his expression. "i'll always be curious about it, and i guess this is my chance to ask."
you don't have the heart to answer him directly.
"i…i used to," you say, slowly. "but that was when i didn't know him."
"know him?" he asks, confused.
you nod. "yeah. i didn't really know him as a person….just…knew the performance, i guess."
jisung still looks confused, but he nods along. "well, do you know him now?"
you think of the sunlight in his living room. the faint dimple on his cheek as he showed you a photo of his sister running towards the camera, her face alight as she called out for her big brother. his arms around you in the kitchen, as he asked you to stay. the slope of his neck as he turns towards you at the end of a song — the fading sound of his guitar as his eyes sought yours.
"maybe," you say, softly.
"and?" jisung prompts. "could you like him now?"
you don't answer him aloud, but your unspoken words ring in your head.
—
it's different this time, haechan tells himself, as he grips his phone in his hands.
it's different this time, because he knew where you were. he knew why you weren't calling.
he slumps back against his bed, his body heavy with alcohol but his mind racing wild, each thought outpacing the next.
the apartment was silent and empty. both jeno and mark were gone for the night. haechan hadn't bothered to go to the party, knowing that he would feel jisung's absence like a pain lodged in his ribs. he wonders if jisung will bring you home, here, whether you'd let him, even if he knew jisung wasn't the type of boy to go further than hand-holding on the first date. he thinks of it anyway — of hearing your sounds through his bedroom wall. whether it would make you needier to know haechan was listening.
he feels like a loser. he's never felt more uncomfortable in his own skin, more unclean, more ashamed. but then again, there's no one around to know, as he lets his mind wander a little farther, away from you and jisung, away from his phone, sinking deep into the last time he'd touched your skin, images and sensations jumping out eagerly at him when he closed his eyes. flicks through moments that caused a heat to lick down his spine, the familiar hum of pleasure buzzing low in his navel — your legs on his shoulders, your hands in his hair. your taste, the patterns he would draw on your body so you'd shake just the way he liked, the spot on your neck he could kitten-lick to feel you tense up all around him.
that night, even after he'd fucked you in the store room, you had been insatiable.
he'd tried to touch you like the other girls he used to play with — never speaking much, preferring to use his mouth for other things, let their own imaginations run wild with what he could be thinking behind his hooded eyes. he'd taken you with your face turned away from him, pleasure without intimacy, sucking bruises as a keepsake for you after the night ended, not as if you were his to keep or to lose.
let's try not to do anything romantic.
but then you'd begged him to talk to you. told him to take you home. he'd hated it — hated the way you folded for him, like someone had given him powers he couldn't help abuse. do you know how tender this is for me? he'd wanted to ask, as he was touching you again in his sheets back home, racing to meet your every demand before you asked for it.
your legs parted for him as he entered you, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure to watch your every expression, the look he'd been dying to see — your eyelashes fluttering, lips parted silently, the sharp gasp as he found your soft spot, your hands scrabbling against his skin. he held your gaze even as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, ankles locked in a sweetheart's cross behind him as he pushed your legs even higher, letting him in deeper. he'd never imagined himself with anyone like this before — a position so full of love and closeness, feeling your body and ripple against his, leaning in to kiss your lips softly, kiss away your desperation.
he'd almost gone crazy when you found your voice amidst all the pleasure.
"donghyuck," you'd breathed, saying the name like a prayer. "feels so good."
he had stilled, slowing to a stop, even though he was painfully hard in you. his heart racing in his chest, pounding so hard he felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.
"you," you mumbled, slowly grinding your hips against him. "you make me feel so good, 's like no one else-"
"yeah?" he picks up the pace again, tilting your body at an angle now so he could go even deeper, watches the way your face changes. he was the one who pulled that sound from your chest — sated but desperate at the same time, needy but satisfied. "i make you feel this good, right? i'm good for you, everything's for you-" he babbled, not making sense to even himself, your praise burying itself deep inside him like a siren song.
you'd choked out more praises, pretty words tumbling from your parted lips, your eyes never leaving his.
"more, hyuck-" you pulled at him, nails scratching down his back. "hyuck-"
it's like he can hear your voice, as his hand slides down to his hip, down to his leaking cock.
he jerks himself off like that — to the images of you pressed under him, your voice calling his name. he does it fast, with no finesse — tugging roughly, the slide too dry, but he doesn't care about drawing out the pleasure, doesn't think it matters if you're not here with him.
he feels even filthier after he finishes — peeling off his soiled shirt, as he stumbles to the bathroom. he knows he won't hear from you tonight, that you wouldn't do that to jisung, but still he keeps his phone unlocked with the ringer on next to his bed as he lays down again.
maybe he would wake up, and you would tell him he could never see you or touch you again. his mind wanders in another direction now, away from your body, away from pleasure — to the ways you made his heart squeeze tight in his chest. when you said his name. when you'd comforted him as he was crying, the kindness in your eyes despite all the ways he hurt you. sitting on the kitchen counter, thinking of ways to keep you with him as your eyes wandered off. look at me, he'd wanted to beg. think of me. just me.
he goes to sleep thinking about how this could be the last night before you'd really only exist in memory and fantasy, before everything changes.
🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.
tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k
🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy
Sunday
You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”
Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.
Your curiosity is sparked.
“Who is this?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”
“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.
“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”
“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”
“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.”
“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.”
“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”
You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?”
“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.”
“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.
“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”
You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this.
“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”
Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties.
“Jeonghan?” you ask.
“Last guess, Tiny.”
He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile.
Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys.
There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances.
“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”
“Close but no cigar.”
“I don’t like this game.”
“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”
“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”
The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”
Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”
“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”
“A few times actually.”
“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”
“Yes, you have.”
“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.”
You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.
Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been.
You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.
Monday
Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.
“Are you okay?”
“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”
“That sounds hella sketchy.”
“Super sketchy,” you agree.
“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”
“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”
“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”
“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.
“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”
“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”
“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”
“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat.
“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”
“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.”
Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.
“So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.
But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.
“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”
“Tiny-”
“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.
“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.
You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back.
Mark’s a good guy.
If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.
Monday pt 2
It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tiny.”
“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”
The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.
“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”
“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.
“Uh huh.”
“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?”
“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”
“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”
“Only one worth going to.”
“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on?
“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.”
Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-
“So you’re an NCT boy?”
“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made.
The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”
“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”
“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”
“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”
“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”
“It’s a nice cock.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”
“Of course.”
“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”
“You talked about me.”
You can hear him smiling.
“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”
Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?
“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”
“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?”
“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”
“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”
“Are you really that interested in my day?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”
He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined.
You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.
“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”
“They were good cupcakes.”
“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”
“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”
You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.
“Did we talk?”
“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”
Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.
“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.
“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”
This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.
“Look, I was studying when you called-”
“Right, you should get back to that.”
“I should.”
“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”
Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy.
Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.
However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.
He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”
“Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”
“Mark Lee!” you screech.
“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”
“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.”
It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?
Tuesday
You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.
Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-
The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.
You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.
You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this.
There’s just something so devastating about rejection.
You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.
It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.
Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay?”
“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.
“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”
“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell.
“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”
The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”
“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Was?”
“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”
“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”
“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”
“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”
“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.”
“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”
He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”
Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“It looked like you needed a friend.”
“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”
“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.”
You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”
“Then they’re stupid.”
“Maybe I’m stupid.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”
“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”
The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”
“And how would you know how smart I am?”
“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.”
“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear.
“Still not a stalker though.”
Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”
“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”
“That’s a good idea,” you admit.
“I’m full of good ideas.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”
Tuesday pt 2
“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.
“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”
“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”
“But he’s nice.”
“He’s stalking you, Tiny!”
“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”
“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”
“It’s cute, right?”
“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”
“Well, it’s spooky season.”
“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”
“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.
“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.
“Well, agree to disagree.”
Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.”
“I don’t think this is Yuta.”
“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.
“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”
“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?”
“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words.
“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”
“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”
“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”
“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.
“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”
“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.
“This whole thing is crazy.”
He has a point about that.
Wednesday
You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.
“Hey you, feeling better today?”
“You tell me, mister stalker.”
“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”
“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”
“Do you follow me?”
“We’re mutuals.”
You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely.
“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”
“Of course.”
“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.”
“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.
“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”
“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.
“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”
“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes.
“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.”
You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”
“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”
“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.
“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”
“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.”
“I’m not Hyuck.”
“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”
“It doesn’t hurt to try.”
“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”
“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”
“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.”
God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane.
“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”
“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.
“Night, Ghostie.”
It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.
Thursday
Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar.
You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.
“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”
The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.
“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly.
The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.
You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff.
“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.
“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.
The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down.
You can do this. You can get this job.
As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.
Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”
“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.
“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”
“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”
You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.
His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”
People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.
Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”
“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”
Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”
“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.
“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”
“I’d be very open to it,” you nod.
“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”
“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”
“Yeah, why not?”
You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate.
“When can you start?” he asks next.
“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”
“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”
You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”
“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”
“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.
“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms.
You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight.
Your life is definitely a little crazy.
“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”
“I’ll be here at seven.”
“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”
“Perfect.”
“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.
“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”
You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear.
“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”
Thursday pt 2
“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.”
“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”
“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”
“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”
“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”
“They must have been impressed.”
“Hired me on the spot.”
“That’s my girl.”
Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”
He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”
“Sure you don’t.”
“My day was long,” he says finally.
“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”
“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.
“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”
“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“I like that you’re getting used to me.”
“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”
“What costume are you going to be wearing?”
“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”
“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”
“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”
You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”
“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.”
“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”
“Maybe a little.”
“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.
“Okay, maybe a lot.”
You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”
He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.
“You’re being bad, Tiny.”
“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”
The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”
Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity?
It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds.
“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”
“You really think so?”
“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”
“What an asshole.”
You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”
“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”
What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex.
Your heart softens.
“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.
“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”
You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”
“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”
“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”
“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”
“You’re such a tease.”
“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”
“Night, Ghostie.”
Friday
Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.
It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.
There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.
You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.
Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.
Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door.
No Ghostie.
There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather.
“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.
“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”
The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”
“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket.
“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.
“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips.
“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?”
“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”
Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates.
“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.
“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”
“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark
“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”
“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.
“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.
“Thank you.”
Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”
“I really shouldn’t-”
“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”
You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way.
You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.
He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute.
“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.
“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”
You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke.
“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.
“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.
“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”
Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”
It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.
In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.
Friday pt 2
It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.
As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.
He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.
You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you.
Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.
You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.
You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help.
Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.
Saturday
You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.
“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”
As if it could be anyone else.
“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”
Here you are kicking your feet again.
“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”
God, he makes you wet.
“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”
He’s so oddly respectful.
“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”
Saturday pt 2
You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention.
Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie.
You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.
Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”
“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”
“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”
As if you expected anything less.
You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.”
Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.
“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.
Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”
“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself.
“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully.
There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”
“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.
The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed.
“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.
“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.
“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.
“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.
“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.”
“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.
“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”
“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.
“That doesn’t matter,” you insist.
“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”
“More weed?” Mark suggests.
“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”
Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”
“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.
Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head.
“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.
“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”
“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”
Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”
He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form.
“What’s your costume?” you ask.
“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”
“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall.
“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”
“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.
“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”
“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.
“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.
“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.
Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”
The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around.
“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet.
You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes.
You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”
God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze.
“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”
“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.
“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.”
You freeze.
It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday.
But- it can’t be.
Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-
Can he?
“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I mean… have I?”
He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”
Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”
It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless.
You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.
Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.
Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything.
He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-
You do want him. You want him so bad-
Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.
He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.
But you don’t want gentle, you want him.
You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip.
Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.
The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.
You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-
“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.
Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.
Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.
It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.
You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.
Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-
“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”
Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”
“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now.
“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.”
“You’re crazy!”
“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”
“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?”
He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”
You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-
The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.
“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder.
“God, you even hired me for a job-”
He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”
“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”
“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”
“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”
“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs.
“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.”
“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”
“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.”
“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”
“Really? How are you going to do that?”
“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”
“And then?”
“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”
God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.
“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.
Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”
“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”
He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.
He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.
“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.
If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever.
You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-
Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”
You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”
“Ghostie,” he corrects you.
You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.
“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.
He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly.
“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.
“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”
Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.
Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”
“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open.
“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”
Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.
You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.
“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.”
Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-
“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”
“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on.
You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.
“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”
You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie.
You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next.
You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock.
“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.
“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra.
It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”
“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.
“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple.
You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.
“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”
“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.
“You got it, Tiny.”
In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.
Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”
You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans.
His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation.
You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.
“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again.
Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.
When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.
In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.
“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”
Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.
You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.
Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-
To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.
“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet.
“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.
“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”
Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”
Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”
Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.
Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.
As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.
Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!”
The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.
You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.
Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.
You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.
The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.
He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you.
You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.
You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-
Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-
Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.
His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.
“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”
But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.
“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way.
You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is.
You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-
“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.”
You let out a tiny mewl, nodding.
Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.
God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.
He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.
You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him.
“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”
He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.
You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.
“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.
You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-
He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-
The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.
“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.
His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling.
“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.”
You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.
He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size.
But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.”
“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”
You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”
Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.
“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.
Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.
He’s so stupidly endearing.
“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.”
It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-
You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.
“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle.
“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled.
“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”
You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.
You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.
Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.
You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.
“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”
You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”
At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.
With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.
“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.
The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before.
This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.
His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.
You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal.
Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him-
You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.
“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”
“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.
“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”
His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”
“Want what?”
“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”
Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder.
“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.
He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder.
“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-
You’re so close-
Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.
“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”
All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.
Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.
Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-
His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.
But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze.
Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you.
You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to your own.
“Holy shit,” he breathes.
You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.
He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out.
“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion.
“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back.
You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you.
You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.
Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.
“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee.
You open your eyes, and then you open your legs.
Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum.
You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.
Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.
His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.
Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace.
The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween.
“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.
Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly.
You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart.
“Ghostie?”
“Yeah, Tiny?”
“I like you a lot.”
He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”
“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”
“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”
“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”
“No?”
“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.
“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”
He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”
“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”
“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.
“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.
“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”
“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”
“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh.
“I like the sound of that.”
“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”
“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”
“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”
“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”
“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.
Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.
If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.
You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh.
Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.
When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss.
It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”
“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”
“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go.
Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-
“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”
“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.
“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”
“Yeah? How’s that?”
“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?”
You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.”
“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.
“You’re such a sweet talker.”
“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”
“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”
“Definitely.”
“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.
“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You can still stay here if you want.”
“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.
The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you.
In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”
“You don’t want me to come with you?”
“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”
With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.
You look fucked, but you also look happy.
In fact, you can’t stop smiling.
After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.
Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside.
Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly.
Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there.
“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.
Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”
Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”
“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.
Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.
“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.
“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”
“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.
“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.
“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.
“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.
Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”
“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.
“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter.
“I won’t,” Johnny promises.
“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”
“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.
It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen.
As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”
“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.
“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”
Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”
“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.
“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”
“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”
“If you invite me.”
“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”
“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.
“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”
“I like the sound of that,” you confess.
“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun.
You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room.
He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.
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🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips, both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275
🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader
bonus
You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.
You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low.
With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock.
It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?
As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.
You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip.
He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.
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plug!hyuck x fem!reader ft. bestie jeno and cousin johnny
summary: when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it.
wc: 11.7k 18+ mdni
cw: fluff, mild angst, smut, weed/marijuana use in multiple forms, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up!), creampie, oral (receiving), flirty down bad soft dom!hyuck who's highkey a simp, dirty talk + voice/praise kink, reader has sleep problems and is a chronic overthinker, reader has a bad trip on weed, tender loving and reassurance, baby/sunshine/my girl as petnames
you turn over in your bed for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes shut tight as you groan in frustration. you open your eyes and feel around for your phone, blinding yourself once the screen faces you. 4:23 a.m. great.
when your alarm set for work blares just a few hours later, you feel as though you shut your eyes for only a few minutes, reluctantly getting up to start your day.
this has been happening for a while now — maybe 1 or 2 months? you’re not sure when exactly it started, but you know the stress from work has been affecting your sleep schedule terribly.
you’ve tried melatonin — huge headache the morning after. other methods you tried led to something similar or didn’t work at all, and it frustrates you to no end. after another day of fighting to stay awake at work passes by painfully slow, you sit on your bed brainstorming with your best friend over the phone.
“i think we’ve gotta do something about the stress, then maybe the sleep will come with it?” jeno’s voice rings through the speaker. you can tell he’s just waking up, evident in his low voice and delayed responses.
“like what? quit my job?” you ask sarcastically. “you know i can’t do that.”
“i know, not that.” you can almost hear him shrug. jeno never has any problems sleeping, being able to sleep through the night and even take a nap or two throughout the day with his work from home job.
a lightbulb seems to flash in his head as he lets out a small gasp. “wait,” his voice sounds closer to the phone speaker, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with a new message.
6:06pm jenjen: dongfuck 010-xxxx-xxxx
“dongfuck?? who the hell is that?” you ask, confused and almost slightly irritated.
“oh shit, i forgot it sends the contact name and everything,” jeno laughs. “anyways, i think the answer to your problems is some good old weed.”
you pause. it’s not as if that never crossed your mind, in fact it has even before your sleep problem came about.
you never entertained the interest as no one in your friend circle knew enough about weed for you to feel comfortable trying it for the first time and you haven’t had the energy to go out as much, giving you no chance to meet someone who does.
“i could be down? but what do you know about weed, lee jeno?” you ask your friend suspiciously.
“no, not me,” you hear him tap on the phone for emphasis. “that’s where my buddy dongfuck comes in.”
you don’t know why, but your gut feeling tells you that you might be in for more than just a good night’s sleep.
lee donghyuck
the new contact in your phone apparently belonged to the resident stoner of his friend group who hustles as a local plug, and while jeno had his thoughts about the guy, quoting pain in the ass and corny flirt, he couldn’t deny that he knows more about weed than anyone he’s ever met. and as much as jeno talks shit, you know how he’d be if he actually hated the guy.
you had texted the new number nervously, asking if he could give you the basics on getting high, and he had responded with “it’s too much to text” and an address. jeno trusted the guy, so you did your best to brush aside your nerves.
it’s your saturday off when you arrive at the address he sent, triple checking that you are at the right place. your gps leads you to a building that looks like a 2-story house. it’s so lowkey that you probably would have walked right past it if you weren’t looking for it, but upon closer inspection it has a very minimal but aesthetic exterior, with vines running alongside the house’s entrance.
“NCTeaHouse” a sign reads right above the door, and you peek inside the small window in the door to see the interior. your mouth forms an o as you realize the house is in fact a store.
the front door opens suddenly, almost hitting you in the face as you step back in surprise. a dark haired man with rounded glasses peeks his head out from behind the door.
“oops, my bad. __ right?” he asks, a little unsure.
“yeah, and you’re donghyuck?” you ask, taking in the man who looks to be around the same age as you.
“just hyuck is okay, come on in!” he says cheerfully, opening the door fully. “i was wondering when you were gonna come in, saw you wandering around the entrance for a good 5 minutes,” he chuckles.
your face gets hot at the knowledge that he saw you like that. “i was making sure it was the right place, okay?”
he hums and leads you in, and you take in the view of the shop around you. it’s tiny, but warmly decorated, browns and earth tones dominating the space with boxes lined along the shelves and few displays in the middle of the shop. he goes behind the front counter, bent down as he rummages through a box.
you take a look at products at the register, finding that they are different tea bags. glancing back at the displays, you recognize the other boxes to also be different tea brands, and some other products you don’t recognize.
“is this where you sell?” you ask, seeing that he’s still looking for something.
“oh no, not here, this is my side job. we sell tea, coffee, and some other stuff.” he gets up with a smaller box in hand, leaving the register as he beckons you to a back room. “but it’s my cousin’s shop, i just help here when i can.”
the back room is also warmly decorated, simple with 2 couch chairs, a table with a coffee maker, and a tiny fridge with a small burner on top.
“you can sit in one of those chairs, do you want some tea?” he asks. you decline politely and sit as he places a kettle on the small burner, turning it on before sitting on the other chair.
“aren’t you working right now? i don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you ask worriedly, not expecting the address he sent to be his workplace. he shakes his head.
“nah, trust me, we barely get any customers, and if they do they’ll ring the bell out front,” he says, waving his hand. “anyways, jen told me you wanted to learn about weed? what do you want to know?”
you feel your face get hot again. you know quite literally nothing about weed, and to admit that to a friend of a friend is a little embarrassing. but again, if jeno trusts him, so do you.
“to be completely honest.. i know nothing about it. i just know i have trouble sleeping at night and jeno suggested it might help,” you tell him.
“so just for sleep?” he asks.
“well, yes.. and no,” you start. you finally have the opportunity to learn the ropes from someone who actually knows what they were doing, but would he be down knowing you were starting from ground zero? he peers at you, noting that your expression looks a little conflicted.
“hey, no need to feel shy about it. everyone has to start somewhere,” he assures.
his words have more of an effect on you than you would expect, feeling touched at the reassurance of someone you barely know. it’s crazy how one sentence can have you feeling like you can trust him with whatever, but you nod in response.
“i think.. i’d like to learn at least the basics about weed, or even more if you’re willing? i’ve always been interested but never had the chance to explore it, but something tells me that’s what you’re all about,” you let your inner thoughts spill. he noticeably lights up at your words.
“and you’re absolutely right! trust me, as long as you’re willing to learn, i’m more than willing to teach,” he chimes, excited for someone who could potentially be as into weed as he is.
like you, none of his close friends really indulge in the substance, and it’s not like he can smoke on the regular with his customers, so he feels genuine excitement at the prospect of a weed buddy.
the sight of his lit up face at your curiosity really reassures your decision to trust jeno’s recommendation. as if on cue, his kettle starts whistling and he gets up to turn off the burner.
you watch as he pours the water into a mug he had set to the side. your eyes trail over his outfit: a comfortable looking brown hoodie paired with some ripped jeans that hug his long legs just right.
your eyes move back up to his face, only to see him staring back at you with an eyebrow raised.
“like what you see?” he asks with a teasing grin. you groan to hide your embarrassment, now seeing what jeno meant when he called him a corny flirt. but you really were checking him out, so you quickly try to come up with an excuse.
“i’m just thinking you don’t really look like you’d be a plug,” you redirect. he shakes his head.
“and what do you think a plug should look like?” he asks, face the tiniest bit more serious. the question surprises you.
“i guess, a little scarier?” you say quietly. you do imagine a plug being that way — quiet, intimidating, maybe a few tattoos. definitely not the man in front of you with his big brown eyes behind a pair of silver framed glasses, fluffy hair and even fluffier hoodie. he laughs at your answer.
“and that is where you are wrong,” he tuts at you, waving a finger. “stoners come in all shapes and sizes, and this plug of yours just happens to be incredibly charming and handsome.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t hold back your laughter.
aside from the last part, his words ring true, and you feel a little silly at your preconceived notion. one of the main things that has stuck out from him so far is his lack of judgement, and it’s something you admire. maybe this really is a good thing for you.
“anyways, when are we gonna start these lessons?” you ask, returning to your original goal.
“we can start now if you’ve got time,” he smiles, taking a sip of his tea. you check your phone, noting that not too long has passed since you arrived. you don’t have any plans besides trying to catch up on sleep, but you know that will probably be futile. why not?
“i’ve got time,” you let him know, and he meets you with a bright smile. he gets you some water, telling you to get comfy for his “weed 101” course.
“so let’s start with sativa vs. indica.” he types something in his phone, pulling up a slideshow. “all weed will fall into one of these two, or a combination of some sort.”
“you didn’t have to make an entire presentation??” you gasp. he must really be that eager to teach you.
“just let it happen, trust the process,” he insists. “anyways, you’ve got that sleeping problem, so anything indica would be your best friend,” he explains, showing you different examples on his phone.
“and what about sativa?” you ask, and he grins.
“that, my friend, is what you smoke when you want to have fun.”
you quickly realize that there is so much more to weed than you initially thought.
he jumps from topic to topic on different strains, smoking vs. edibles, joints vs. blunts, pipes vs. bongs — it was a lot. your head spins as you try to recall all the information he’s given you, and he takes notice at the shift in your demeanor, even if you try to feign the same eagerness you had coming into it.
“is it too much? we can take it slower, break it into sessions maybe,” he offers. you’re really wowed at how down he actually is to do this, and if you’re being completely honest, hanging out with an attractive guy while learning about and potentially indulging in some weed plus hopefully getting a good night’s sleep out of it? it sounds too good to be true.
“won’t that be taking too much of your time?” you ask worriedly.
“i’m true to my word, as long as you’re willing to learn, sunshine, i’m all yours,” he says, mouth pulled into his same grin as he downs the last bit of his tea, probably cold now after hours of talking. “plus the next few times you come, i’ll bring my stuff so you can try it out.”
you know you aren’t immune to his charms, and your face warms at the affectionate words. despite the corniness jeno complained about, hyuck had a way of keeping you on your toes while giving you an odd feeling of ease.
“i think i’d like that a lot, thank you hyuck,” you beam. an alarm on his phone rings, and his eyes widen.
“it’s already time to close? time flies,” he says getting up from the seat to start closing up shop. you get up too, ready to head home. “wait,” his voice halts you.
“are you hungry?” he asks a little timidly, a stark contrast for how casual he’s been this entire time.
you’ve been there for a while, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starving at that point. “yeah definitely, my last meal was breakfast,” you recall.
“okay sit tight, then. dinner’s on me, let me close up really quick,” he smiles, and before you can protest, he’s rushing through the break room door. a smile rests on your own face. you pull out your phone to check the time, seeing messages from jeno.
4:29pm jenjen: u ok? he didn’t eat you did he
5:50pm jenjen: dude wait are u ok neither of you are responding to me
5:50pm jenjen: don’t replace me ):
7:15pm you: stop you big baby we were just having a good conversation
7:16pm you: ngl i’m glad you introduced us, i have a good feeling about this jen (:
even after you insist you pay for your own and treat him as thanks for his lessons, hyuck stubbornly refuses and pays for the entire dinner bill. as he pulls up to your apartment to drop you off at home, he places a box in your lap before you exit his car.
“tea?” you ask, eyeing the box. reaching over to your lap again he taps on the box, punctuating his words.
“this right here is something i mixed up a while ago. i’m not the biggest edible person, so when i don’t feel like smoking, i’ll drink some of this. there’s barely any weed in it, but steep it for like a minute and try some an hour or two before you sleep.”
he looks incredibly proud of his own creation, but you’re a bit conflicted. it’s difficult to meet his energy when you’re nervous at the thought of trying weed for the first time on your own.
you don’t voice your nerves, not wanting to dampen his excitement. he’s already given you a lot and you just met the guy.
“thank you hyuck, i appreciate it.” you open his car door, getting down with the box in hand. “see you next week?”
“no problem at all, try that and let me know how it goes okay? i’m kinda not the biggest texter, so call for anything,” he says softly. “i’ll see you next week, sunshine.”
with the nickname sending a buzz through you, you close his car door, padding up to the front of your apartment complex before turning to wave. he waves back, flashing his headlights, and he doesn’t leave until you’re completely inside.
you go into your kitchen, placing the box on your counter. you open it, pulling out a paper accompanied by little tied sachets containing an assortment of dried leaves.
steep for two minutes with boiling water, can steep longer if you want a stronger tea.
-h
you smile to yourself. lifting a sachet to your nose, you note that it smells like a regular bag of tea. he did say there was barely any weed in there, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try?
you double back on that thought. you really don’t know how you’re gonna react to it, and the anxieties crawl back up your throat. what if it doesn’t turn out well, and you’re all by yourself with no way of getting the substance out of you?
you don’t want to risk it. you put the contents back in the box and place it in one of your cabinets. maybe you’ll invite jeno over to try it with you so at least you’d have someone with you if it all goes wrong.
you get ready for bed, hoping that the night brings you even a little sleep.
your hopes are unfounded when you wake up to a call from your manager, begging you to come into work to help fix an urgent problem. she promises you double pay and breakfast, and reluctantly, you accept.
you head to work with only the idea of some extra money in your pocket keeping you going, but you know already the second you step foot into your work building that you will be fighting for your life for the next few hours.
by the time the sun has set, you’re dragging yourself through your apartment door, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 24 hours. you change out of your work clothes, hopping straight into bed and closing your eyes in hopes that sleep will take you.
when your eyes open an hour later, frustration bubbling at your throat from an hour of tossing and turning despite your utter exhaustion, you rip your sheets off, heading to your kitchen.
you open a cabinet, taking out a familiar little box. you’re willing to give this a try — anything to get some good sleep. but anxieties still run through you as you take out your phone to text your best friend.
8:35pm you: jen wyd?
you wait for a few minutes staring tiredly at your phone until a message pops up.
8:41pm jenjen: out with jaem what’s up?
you sigh, letting your friend know to forget it, and open the box. there sits a familiar note, and you trace over the neat handwritng.
call for anything. hyuck’s words ring in your ears. before you know it, you’re moving on autopilot and repeated ringing sounds through your speaker, his name displayed on the screen.
rrrring. rrrring. with every ring you feel more anxious, debating on just hanging up and resorting to melatonin, and when it reaches his voicemail, your heart sinks.
you end the call, placing your phone in your pocket and deciding to look for your forgotten sleep supplements. you don’t even take more than a couple of steps when your phone starts buzzing. you answer without even checking the id.
“__? what’s up?” his voice rings through the speakers and relief floods your system.
“hyuck, sorry to bother, but are you busy right now?” you ask.
“free for you, and not a bother, don’t apologize,” he says, and you can hear the smile on his voice. your cheeks twitch into a slight smile at his sweet words, but the tiredness seeps into your words.
“i’m gonna try your tea.. i’m so exhausted and i can’t sleep but i’m just so nervous about trying this by myself — oh and i called jeno but he’s busy — i’m sorry i ju-” your sleepy spiel is interrupted by his voice.
“woah, woah, sunshine, let’s slow it down a bit. no need to apologize for anything, really,” he assures.
you feel as though you could cry from the combination of relief and sheer exhaustion, now a little calmer explaining your circumstances and nerves at your first time having any sort of weed.
“hey, go ahead and try it, and i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? you can tell me if you’re feeling bad or weird or anything and i’ll be right here.”
“promise?” you ask hopefully. it’s not ideal to be asking someone you’ve known for literally a day to stay on the phone with you, but your tired mind and body scream sleep over shame.
he laughs. “you’re so cute, yes i promise.” you try not to show how much of an effect his words have on you, masking your stirring feelings by warming some water.
in the next 20 minutes, you’re sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, taking small sips and letting the aroma waft as you chat over the phone. he’s right, the tea tastes nothing like the pungent scent of weed you are familiar with. his tea is calming and herbal.
“tell me about your day,” he requests, and you start from the call from your manager in the morning, explaining how some intern almost cost your company a client under your project, and you had to save their ass.
“you’re too good for them,” he says smugly.
“you’re just saying that, but thank you,” you reply, and he denies it, whining slightly.
“i would never say anything i don’t mean,” he asserts. he acts offended that you would even insinuate he was only flattering you, and you try not to read too much into his words, now halfway through your cup of tea.
“how about you tell me about your day, hyuck?” you ask, changing the subject.
he’s happy to talk about his day, lamenting spending his entire weekend at the shop, but explains how there were a group of unique customers today.
“this guy came in with a few friends, asking us if we have anything that could calm animals?? i honestly don’t know shit about pets but i don’t think tea and coffee are safe.” you chuckle at his animated telling of the story. “he had reeaaally nice eyebrows, though.”
your cup now sits empty on your nightstand, your head resting heavily on your pillow as you listen to him. he’s so expressive, and you hum in response to his ramblings. you have no thoughts besides how pleasing his voice is to your ears.
your eyes feel heavier and heavier as his voice sounds more and more distant.
when you wake up to your alarm set for work chiming the next morning, you feel the most rested you have in months. checking your phone, you see a missed message notification.
10:48pm hyuck =) : sleep tight, sunshine
a while has passed since your first go at the tea, and it’s three weeks until you are able to see hyuck again. at the beginning of those three weeks, you found that every couple of days hyuck would call, checking in on you. the first few calls never lasted as long as your first did, but soon you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice.
you started to ask him how his day was before he could hang up, and after a few times of sharing back and forth, nightly calls to talk about your days became a routine.
in all honesty, you wanted to see him sooner, but the work days kicked your ass and different friends made plans on your days off. despite the chaos in other parts of your life, it felt like your nightly calls were what got you through the tiring days.
you were almost out of tea, and resorted to having the tea every other day to save. something must have shifted when you met hyuck, as even without the tea, sleep came much easier with the exception of a few days.
when you call hyuck on a friday night after work, hoping to restock and spend some time with him over the weekend, he meets your request with enthusiasm.
“didn’t realize you missed my lessons so much, my #1 student,” his teasing rings over the speakers.
“actually, youtube is sounding really good right about now,” you reply, putting up a flat tone at his remarks.
“i’m kiddinggggg jeez, come to the shop around 6 tomorrow? dress warm, we’ll try something new,” he instructs, and you agree.
sitting in your living room, you take a sip of the usual tea, noting that you’re down to your last bag. you drift off to sleep that night, and instead of the anxieties you had felt the night before the first time you met him, excitement floods your system at the thought of seeing him.
the next day’s lesson brings you to a new location, still NCTeaHouse, but the cozy back patio behind the store. strung up hanging lights are already lit, given how the sun has started to set, and the lounge couch makes it look like an ideal hangout spot.
“if you see me napping back here one of these days, you better not say anything,” you joke with hyuck.
“you’re always free to, as long as i’m invited,” he winks and you’re shaking your head at his unabashed self. you’ve gotten a lot more used to his flirty words, coming to expect at least a line or two during your nightly conversations.
“anyways, you’re probably wondering why we came out here tonight.” you nod, and he lays the contents of his pockets on the small table in front of the two of you.
“i thought we could try smoking today, if you’re comfortable,” he grins, arranging everything on the table, and you’re impressed by the assortment.
he’s got different bags of weed, wrapping papers, lighters, and little tins. he gets right into explaining, pulling out the contents of the tins. he holds up two rolls, one a little thicker than the other.
“this right here is a joint, it’s just weed. this thicker one is a blunt. it’s got nicotine in the paper so the high is a little different.” he hands them to you to look at and continues. “i prefer blunts, but depending on what you put in them, a regular joint would probably be better for someone who hasn’t smoked before.”
you never doubted jeno’s words, but hyuck really is living up to your friend’s praise of his weed knowledge. you nod in understanding at his clear explanations, handing them both back to him. he sets aside the joint and starts to put away the blunt until you stop him.
“let’s do the blunt,” you quickly interject. despite wanting to go with the more beginner-friendly option, something in you wanted to do what he liked. maybe that way you could get a little taste of his world.
“wait, are you sure? it might be a bit harsh,” he warns.
“trust me, i can take it,” you say stubbornly. he pauses almost unnoticeably with an unreadable expression at your words before it shifts into a dubious look.
“if you say soooo,” he teases. you slap his arm lightly, huffing as he laughs before getting up to grab some water before you begin. he settles back into the couch once he’s back. he picks out a blunt and his lighter, turning to you with a more serious expression.
“this high will probably feel a bit more intense than anything the tea could do, so just take it easy okay? if you start feeling bad, please tell me,” he emphasizes. “promise?” he holds out his pinky.
you nod, linking your own pinky around his. he tightens the hold and you feel your heart tighten a bit in turn. the emotions whirling in you are too complex to decipher, ranging from slight anxiety at the thought of actually being high to gratitude for hyuck’s reassurance.
“just watch, okay?” he places the blunt between his lips, lighter flicking at its edge as he inhales for a few seconds. he holds the smoke in, rotating the blunt a few times before straining his neck up to exhale a hefty cloud of smoke.
the sight leaves you breathless. hyuck is attractive, and of that you have been sure since the day you met.
but this hyuck, sitting next to you in his black leather jacket and dark jeans on the baggier side stirs something inside of you. it’s just one hit, but you’re outright entranced by his movements. he brings the blunt back to his mouth for another hit, and flicks it on an ash tray sitting on the table as he holds in the smoke.
your eyes don’t leave his hands, adorned in a few simple rings as he moves as if it’s just muscle memory, smooth and rehearsed. he again lifts his head to release the smoke, and this time you can see a vein that trails down his thick neck as it comes into full view.
what is likely not even half a minute feels like an eternity to you, and it takes a couple calls of your name to snap you out of your trance.
“earth to __? wanna try now?” hyuck waves his hand in front of you, offering the freshly ashed blunt.
“just a couple seconds, and not too strong of a pull. hold it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke,” he instructs as you pick it out of his grasp. you nod, bringing it to your mouth.
you do as he says, pulling only for a few seconds before passing it back to him, intending to hold the smoke in. you don’t get to that point though, for as soon as the two second mark hits, your throat constricts as you involuntarily cough up the smoke you pulled from the blunt.
curses leave hyuck’s mouth as he quickly puts out the blunt, scrambling to hand you the water he brought earlier. you take it quickly, letting the water soothe your throat as you continue coughing between sips.
“are you okay?” he asks, worried expression on his face.
“i-i’m good, i thought i was gonna do better than that for my first one though,” you admit sheepishly.
“hey, we’ve got a lot of time to practice,” he reassures.
you’re not sure if the weed is already hitting you, but the warm hanging lights seem to illuminate his face even more. his fingers play with a silver chain laying on his white shirt.
“do you want to try another? or are you good?” he asks, peering into your face to check for any signs of dicomfort.
“i’ll try one more time,” you resolve, and he grins, firing the lighter back up. he holds the blunt up in front of you, and your hand moves to grab it, but he doesn’t let go, keeping it steady in front of your mouth.
“go for it, sunshine,” he gives you the go ahead, still holding it for you as your mind screams at the intimacy. you lean forward a bit to take a small hit of the blunt, trying to ignore his eyes burning into you. you make sure to inhale a little less than the first time.
“goood, just like that, now hold it in for a bit.”
you lean back into the chair as hyuck brings the blunt to his own lips, taking a drag out of it as he watches you carefully. this time, your throat doesn’t constrict, and you blow the smoke upwards emulating his earlier movements.
“that’s my girl,” he praises, smile stretched wide. you were doing so well, but his praise catches you at the very last bit of smoke leaving your throat, causing a hitch in your throat as you lightly cough.
he hands you the water again, patting your back as you curse under your breath.
“don’t worry, it’s still your first time, and i’ve heard coughing after smoking gets you even higher,” he coos, pats turning into gentle circles on your back.
you feel hyperaware of his touch, but when his hand separates from your form a piece of you longs to have it back. you glance at him as he takes another hit. you might not necessarily know what feeling high feels like yet, but whatever you’re feeling right now might just be it.
the anxiety and gratitude you felt coming into the smoke session has melted into something else — a desire of some sort that you can’t put your finger on. you know that’s not from the substance now in your system.
all you know is that the fuzzy feeling in your body and mind along with the dark-haired man next to you is something you could get used to.
after that day, something definitely shifted. you see hyuck a lot more, and every time he comes more than excited to teach you something new.
the next time you see him it’s pipes. he came prepared with two — one for you and him, and sent you home with the one you were using once you got the hang of it, insisting it liked you better.
another time is bongs. this one was pretty hard for you to get a hang of, and his hands guided yours on how to hold the bong and when to take out the bowl. it was hard to stay focused on the steps with his casual physical contact, so you’d have to revisit that.
one of the days, he even brings his dab rig set up to show you. you were completely lost with this one, and he didn’t force it, just assuring you that you could always come to him and he’d have it all ready and set for you.
he takes pride in showing you his creations, and is always quick to affirm you as you learn. while he never explicitly said he was doing it, you could tell after the first time you smoked that he wanted to find ways to make smoking a little easier on you.
you recall a specific day you came over to the shop, promised the “hyuckie special” by its namesake over the phone the night before. you were surprised to see someone other than hyuck in the shop once you arrived, especially since it was after hours.
“are you the one donghyuck’s been bringing around here?” a tall man with ashy brown hair tucked behind his ears stood behind the counter. he was really handsome, but also slightly intimidating. the tattoos on his exposed arms reminded you of your initial idea of what a plug looked like.
you muttered a timid yes as you approached the man. he definitely looked a little older than you and hyuck.
“johnny, i’m the owner of your little love nest,” he joked, hand reached out to shake yours.
you shook his hand, introducing yourself as you tried to tell him you’re just friends. before you could, hyuck busted through the front door, eyes going to your joined hands.
he stomped up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stepped back from the counter.
“what are we talking about?” he asked, pointed look at johnny. johnny just laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as you stood there, confused.
“relax lover boy,” he regained composure, turning to you. “thanks for keeping him busy, i should’ve known something was up when he stopped texting me every week whining about the shop.”
hyuck’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and he started tugging you around the back.
“don’t listen to him, bye,” he called not even looking back. johnny just waved, trying to keep down another laugh at his cousin’s erratic behavior.
“bye, __, see you around!” he waved, you returning it as best you could as hyuck pushed you through the door. as soon as you reached the back patio, a sulky hyuck started grumbling.
“you won’t be seeing him, he’s barely at his own shop anyways.” he plopped down on the couch, emptying his pockets as usual.
a lilac colored tin stuck out among his materials, and you picked it up to see what it was. his familiar neat handwriting spelled out your name.
“made that one for you, think you’d really like it,” he noticed you observing it, sulkiness gone.
a floral, herbal scent wafted to your senses once you opened it, and inside you saw a few joints.
“that’s the hyuckie special — or should i say the __ special?” he pondered, taking them from you to show them off. “i know you secretly prefer joints so don’t argue with me, but this one is a custom blend of a hybrid strain and dried lavender, you know, for your sleeping problem.”
you didn’t know what to say besides thank you over and over, touched at his consideration and the fact that he made a blend just for you. only for you.
from then on, that special blend quickly became your favorite as it really did help you relax a bit more. he would have his blunts of choice while you settled on the special formula made just for you.
your time with hyuck definitely shifted, but it wasn’t the only thing — something in you shifted as well.
that desire you felt that first night you smoked only burns brighter and hotter — the phone calls aren’t ever enough anymore, you need to see him, to be with him. even with a busy schedule with work and other friends, you make time, because being with him feels like nothing you have ever felt before.
somewhere along the routine of monotony in your life, maybe you subconsciously pushed yourself to the back of your priorities. but with hyuck, the way he takes care of you just makes you feel so prioritized, so seen.
he remembers your favorites and preferences even if mentioned only in passing, teases you with inside jokes only he could know, follows up on any gossip or worries you share, picks you up and drops you off at home, and never lets you pay for anything — food or weed alike.
you’ve never had an easier time falling asleep, with or without weed, and you can only assume that this connection with hyuck gave you a way of navigating the anxieties and negative feelings that plagued you. he felt like your person.
you could swear jeno’s eyes could fall out of his head from how wide-eyed he stares at you as you tell him all of this, from the generous lessons to the custom blend to your complex feelings growing by the day.
“you better not tell him any of this,” you warn, but jeno’s expression is still in shock. “what is it?”
“are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? hyuck? like lee donghyuck??” jeno asks in disbelief.
“yes?? who else would i be talking about?” you’re confused by your best friend’s reaction.
“no fucking way, because the hyuck i know would never do any of that. i don’t even think he knows when my birthday is,” he says.
“to be fair, i don’t think he knows when mine is either?” you offer. jeno looks straight into your eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“no i mean to say — he doesn’t pay anyone that much attention, even his friends, and i know he’d never willingly shell out his weed money, let alone every single time you’re together,” he explains. “i thought the weed lesson was gonna be a one- or two-time thing, not a whole series.”
you didn’t think so either. the time you spend together isn’t even lesson-like anymore, with it just being smoke or tea sessions with endless conversation. there’s no clear definitions, but you know you need to ask jeno’s opinion.
“do you think he likes me? like likes me?” you ask your best friend. it feels silly to ask like that, to have feelings that makes you unable to think of anyone else.
but you ask even though you think you know. you’d be blind to not notice his actions, the look in his eyes, and johnny’s insinuations. jeno’s surprise at his special treatment of you is just further confirmation.
“honestly, in my eyes he’s down bad, but do you like him?” jeno asks, unsure if he’s liking where your conversation is going.
you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t. somewhere along the course of this whole thing, that desire that planted the first time you ever met him grew every time afterward and bloomed into something you could no longer contain.
you never tried to deny it, but you’re realizing this is your first time actually admitting it. you look down, suddenly shy under the focused gaze of your best friend.
“jen, i do. i really do like him,” you confess, entire body warming at the quiet declaration.
jeno’s quiet for a second before letting out a groan in response. you look up to see him with a hand over his face.
“what’s wrong?” you’re slightly offended at that response, but jeno just shakes his head.
“nothing, just always knew he was a corny flirt, just never thought you’d eat that up,” he muses. “he’s annoying, but he’s not a bad guy.”
“should i tell him?” you ask, hoping for advice. jeno shrugs.
“that’s up to you, i don’t know what your relationship with him looks like besides what you’ve told me,” he replies, not giving you an answer you so desperately want. “what i do know is i’ll kick his ass if he ever hurts you, and you can never replace me. got it?”
you lunge at your best friend, squeezing him affectionately and barraging him with promises of unchanging friendship.
you sit at your dining table reading the label of a little bag.
“a friend left this at mine the other day and told me to keep it, but i don’t fuck with weed so you can have it, little miss stoner,” jeno had said, giving you a bag of gummy edibles before dropping you off at home after dinner.
you thanked him for it at the time, taking it with you inside. edibles are the form of weed you are least experienced with. hyuck had explained them briefly, but you’ve never done them with him since he doesn’t really like them too much. he reasoned that smoking helps him control his intake better.
you’re feeling a little daring tonight, however. you have a lot more experience with weed now, and your tolerance has definitely risen.
though you’re a little nervous about trying them without hyuck, it’s too late to call and you feel a bit more confident at your weed capabilities. the you from the beginning of this weed journey would be surprised at how much you’ve changed.
it’s just a little gummy, how bad could it be? plus you have the next day off, kicking that worry. you pull out a single pineapple gummy, splitting it into halves before eating one. you settle into your couch, turning on your tv to let the edible kick in.
when an hour passes and you still don’t feel anything, you’re confused. you look up how long it takes for an edible to hit and check the package for an expiration date, but everything seems fine. has your tolerance risen that much?
you pick up the other half of the gummy, looking at it carefully before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. the dosage per piece is not anything concerning, so you eat the other half without thinking too much.
when your eyes start to blur in the next 5 minutes, you know you’ve made a mistake.
you’re glued to your couch, staring at the ceiling as the high runs through your body, feeling a slight tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, coming and going in intense waves. your thoughts race, and 99% of your thoughts are consumed by hyuck, hyuck, and hyuck.
an uncertain amount of time has passed, your phone forgotten somewhere in your apartment, but you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of a million thoughts turning into no thoughts at all, all while your body is experiencing such a new, yet heavy feeling.
the smoking high is definitely different from this edible high, and you start to understand why hyuck prefers the former.
you don’t feel like you’re in control of yourself at all, and the feeling is entirely too overwhelming. the second half of that edible hits, with the high intensifying and your thoughts jumping yet again.
a feeling of dread runs through you.
you had been doing well keeping a general positive/neutral train of thought on that first half of the edible, but the second a single negative thought hits you, you find yourself unable to stop the spiral.
why did you do this to yourself? don’t you need to focus on other things? are you going to let this be another thing that drags you down? what does hyuck really think of you? do you really think he feels the same way as you?
you fight back against your own thoughts, wrestling to tell yourself that everything with him has been nothing but good, but the intensity of this high brings an entirely new side to all of this — paranoia.
hyuck had explained before that paranoia could come with being high, but you had overtime forgotten the possibility. being high has given nothing but good times and relaxation, but all of that could probably be attributed to the company you had getting there.
you don’t even realize you have tears streaming out of your eyes until your hand comes back wet after rubbing your face.
it’s all too much, and more than anything your mind screams that you need hyuck.
you force yourself to get up, hazy eyes looking for your phone, spotting it on the dining table.
2:27am. hyuck might be awake gaming, and you can only hope that he is. you crumple to the floor as you quickly find his contact and call him.
only one ring passes before he picks up.
“what’s up, sunshine?” his voice rings through the speaker and you can hear the click of his mouse and keyboard in the background. immediately a sense of relief washes through your body, slightly breaking through the high and has the tears flowing harder than before.
“h-hyuck,” you sob, and immediately the sound of clicking stops.
“are you crying? what’s wrong? are you okay?” his concern makes you want to cry even more, but more than that you want him here with you.
“hyuck, i-i took an edible and i think i took too much and i’m so overwhelmed right now — i can’t stop thinking and crying and i’m just so scared,” you weep, and you hear rustling coming from the phone and the clinking of keys before you’re even done with your sentence.
“stay on the phone with me, baby, i’ll be right there, what’s your apartment number?”
he really knows you like the back of his hand. somehow, he knows that what you need most is him. even if he didn’t know that, the fact that he’s rushing over without you even having to ask helps you shut down the voices that tell you he doesn’t care.
10 minutes of affirmations and sweet words come as you cry, trying so desperately to hold back from telling him everything you’ve been feeling, including what you feel about him.
when his call cuts off with a knock at your front door, you stumble over to let him in, legs having fallen asleep from your position on the floor as you called him.
as soon as you open the door and see him, hair freshly washed and in a hoodie and sweats, the anxiety leaves you like a spell. his glasses are slightly fogged, and he’s catching his breath from rushing up here.
the second he gets a glimpse of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, he comes in, enveloping you in the warmest, tightest hug.
you immediately melt into him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans back against the front door. you stay there for a few minutes, emptying your eyes out as he comforts you.
“hey, why is my pretty girl crying? what are you so scared of? i’m right here,” he coos as one arm remains securely around you as the other hand alternates between patting your head and massaging the back of your neck.
when the tears seem to have subsided, he waddles over with you still in his arms to your living room couch, and you remain firmly attached to him. he checks your face for anymore tears, and when he finds none, sits you on the couch to get you some water.
“where are your cups?” he asks, checking the cabinets, and you tell him there’s bottles in the fridge. you look at him from your spot on the couch, and immediately feel your heart pang.
this is the first time he’s actually been inside your apartment, but you can’t help but think that he looks so perfect here — that your living space somehow feels more complete than it ever has.
when he sits down with you, handing you tissues and water, he has a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down as you gulp down some water, only now realizing how dry your mouth is.
“so you wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours? and who you got these edibles from? because i know it wasn’t fucking me.” some agitation peeks through his otherwise neutral tone, but his eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.
you tell him about how jeno gave it to you, and hand him the package as he reads the label.
“you had one piece right? that should be fine, but it looks like you might be a bit more sensitive to this since it’s your first time with edibles.” he scolds you lightly, tapping your forehead. “still, i wish you would have called me to at least be on the phone with you when you tried it.”
“i-i wanted to, trust me. but it was late and i thought i could handle it,” you explain.
“that’s why i hate those things, only take them when i really want to feel high as shit, but look what they’ve done to you, baby,” he frowns, going back to rubbing your arms up and down. “any weed needs, you come to me, okay? don’t need my girl going to others for that when i’ve got more than enough.”
my girl.
you realize in your hazy state that his usual “sunshine” has been replaced with other, more endearing, names — my girl, my pretty girl, baby. the sound of his voice has always been addicting to you, but the affectionate names leaving his mouth take it a step further.
you want to hear more. with a boldness that could only be fueled by the weed still running its course through your system, you lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder.
“can you call me that again?” you murmur into his shoulder.
“what?” his voice right next to your ear sends chills all over your body.
“you know.. your girl.. i really like how that sounds.” immediately he’s separated from you, hands holding you at the upper arms as he looks at you with wide eyes.
“what?” he repeats again, and you could almost laugh at how shocked he looks at you mentioning a name he called you.
“your girl.. or baby too..” you say, dazed. you are definitely coming down from your high, but the ensuing sleepiness is making you even more honest. but more than anything, you want to be honest with him right now.
“wanna be your baby, hyuck.”
he lets out a pained groan at your words, running a hand over his face.
“__, you’re high as fuck. you don’t know what you’re saying,” he says, bottom lip between his teeth.
“i know what i’m saying,” you hook your finger around his chain, tugging him a little closer. “i want you to be my baby, too.”
you lean in, closing the distance between you as your faces hover just centimeters from each other. hyuck holds his breath, eyes darting from your glossy eyes down to your lips. he can’t help it, eyes getting hazy as you close the distance, kissing him.
he returns your energy, pressing closer to you with his hands grasping your waist. he moves to deepen the kiss, but after a few seconds the pressure on your waist increases, shutting his eyes tighter before pushing you back slightly.
“i hope you still mean this in the morning, because i want to be yours too,” he has a slightly pained smile. “but you’re so high right now, i don’t want to do anything you’d regret once you’re sober.” you whine at him trying to kiss him again while he stops you, holding your shoulders.
“don’t tempt me, you don’t know how hard you’re making this for me, baby.” he gets up, tugging you up along with him. “let’s get you to bed, sunshine.” he lets you lead him to your bedroom, his hands set on your shoulders, and you plop down on your bed, eyes already heavy.
you hold out your arms to him.
“sleep here tonight?” you ask, and he groans after slapping a hand over his eyes.
“you’re testing me,” he chokes out. you jut out your lower lip, but your eyes threaten to shut any moment.
“i’m not testing you, i just want to wake up to you, is that too much to ask?” in his eyes, you look so cute cuddled up in your bed, eyes begging him to stay. his heart soars as he realizes the sight he’s seen in his dreams could be a reality, starting now.
“i really can’t win against you, just give me a second.” he leaves for a little while, turning off the lights throughout your apartment and making sure the front door is locked before sliding into bed with you.
he immediately pulls you by the waist closer to him, and you, drifting to sleep, cuddle into his chest.
“i won’t do anything okay? don’t worry about anything,” he promises sincerely.
“thank you hyuck.. thank you..” you mumble a bit, nuzzling into him further, sleep taking over. he just holds you tighter.
“sleep tight, sunshine.”
that’s the last thing you hear before you enter into a deep, deep sleep, feeling secure and warm wrapped up in hyuck’s arms.
you wake up to soft snoring and long arms wrapped around you, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes his face comes into full view.
hyuck is sleeping so peacefully in front of you, and if one thing remains from your raging high last night, it’s that hyuck just fits perfectly in your space, it feels overwhelmingly good in his arms, and you want him here always.
“i like you,” the words come out as a whisper as you brush some hair from his forehead. he pops one eye open, elliciting a gasp from you.
“all good, sunshine?” he asks, and you nod. in a second he’s closing the distance between you two, laying a tender kiss on your lips. his arms tighten around you as you lean into him, letting yourself indulge in his warm kisses.
“this isn’t a dream right?” you ask sleepily, and he chuckles at the way you open and close your eyes to see if he’s still there.
“you dream about me?” he grins, and you hide your face back in his chest, nodding slowly. “good, because i dream about you too.”
any sleepiness you had has dissipated completely, and you feel like your heart would explode if you met his eyes right now. his hand, however, meets your chin to tilt your head back up.
“i like you too, by the way, if it wasn’t already obvious,” and with his own confession he meets your lips once more.
it takes a while for the two of you to get out of bed, with both of you dozing off and on, sharing lazy kisses and cuddles until hyuck’s stomach starts rumbling.
“maybe we should get something to eat?” you suggest, starting to slip off the blanket. he’s quick to try and stop you, but before he can catch you you’ve stood up, tugging hyuck by the arm.
“5 more minutes, pleaaaase,” he whines, arm going limp at your efforts to get him up.
“it’s already almost dinnertime, hyuck,” you check your phone, surprised at how much time has passed. his glasses sit next to your phone on the nightstand. while you’re distracted, he sits up at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a darker expression.
his hands trail down your waist, squeezing lightly once he reaches your hips. you drop your phone to be met with his hooded eyes trained on your lips. his eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches as he tightens his grip on your hips.
“i think i’d like to eat something else,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses from the bottom of your chin down your throat. you let out a surprised whimper at the sensation, chills running down your arms.
you move your head down, wanting to kiss him, and as if he reads your mind, his lips meet yours with a passion mirroring the one from the night before.
“lay down, let me get my fill, sunshine,” he urges, feeling himself already incredibly hard at the thought of himself between your legs.
“we’ve been in bed all day, we should take showers and eat first or something,” you start, but you’re cut off with a sharp tug, hyuck pulling you beside him. he sinks to his knees by your legs hanging off the bed.
“later, i need you so bad, you have no idea.” his hands move under your shirt as he loops his hands in the waistband of your sleep shorts.
“do you want this, baby?” he asks as you lean back on your arms, meeting his pleading eyes from his spot between your legs. you gnaw on your lip, already feeling the dampness on your panties. you do want this. so bad.
“i want you, hyuck,” you give him the go ahead. he’s more than willing to give you everything you want and more. he pulls your shorts down your legs, groaning at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.
he pulls that off as well, spreading your lips with his pointer and middle fingers as he admires your core.
“stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” you look away, hips shifting as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the second.
“just admiring, baby,” he states warmly, glancing up at your embarrassed expression as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands digging in as he grabs at the flesh of your thighs.
he leans in, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, ending his trail with a swirl of your bud. you moan out at the sensation, clutching at your sheets as he really gets his fill.
he’s messy, tongue going from prodding at your entrance to his face moving side to side over your clit. a growl leaves his throat as he feels your hands move to grip his hair.
“you don’t even know what you were doing to me last night, baby,” he groans into your cunt. “had me going fucking crazy.”
one of his arms unwraps from your thigh, hand pushing at your legs to keep them spread as his long fingers prod at your entrance, one entering you slowly as you grip his hair even tighter. he drags it in and out of you in time with the circles he licks around your clit.
“you’re my baby, right?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through you. he inserts another finger into your entrance and curls them into you, feeling around for a spot that will get you moving just right. he’s stretching you out so well, getting you prepared, wanting you to feel good.
you can’t even respond, already feeling your mind start to wander off, feeling a high so different from every other one he’s shown you. he finds a spot that makes you squeal just a bit higher, and he pistons his fingers in and out to hit that spot just right.
“where’s my sunshine from last night? the one hanging on to me, cute as fuck,” he recalls your high state, how you just melted into him in a different way from how he had you now.
“come on, one more time, don’t you remember? wanna be your baby, hyuck,” raising his voice to a teasing tone in a half-hearted imitation of you. his fingers don’t falter in the slightest.
“please sunshine, let me hear that again?” your mouth, open from the cries leaving you, can’t form any words. he leans down to lay a hard suck on your clit, sending you over the edge as you cry out, legs clamping down on his head as he rides out your orgasm.
he detaches from you as your legs drop, and he stands up between them to get a full view of you fucked out for him.
“fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now. straight out of my dreams.” he palms himself over his sweats, feeling like he could burst any second, before ripping off his hoodie.
the sight of him standing over you, silver chain lying on his bare chest, is also something out your own dreams. you can feel yourself clench seeing his cock straining through his sweats. you catch your breath, mustering the energy squeeze him between your thighs.
in a second he’s pulling his sweats down, hard member slapping his stomach as he lays it on top of your core, admiring how it looks on your body.
“does my pretty girl need to be filled up?” he teases, pushing your legs up as he starts to tease at your entrance with his tip. you want it so bad, need it.
“then let me hear it, you’re my baby, right?” he lets his tip catch onto your entrance as you gasp.
“f-fuck, hyuck, i’m your baby! i’m your ba-” the second half of the word comes out as a shriek at the feeling of him entering you, bottoming out right away thanks to his prep. the feeling of being so full winds you, stealing the air from your lungs.
he hisses as your pussy grips him, throwing his head up. you can see the vein on his neck protruding, thick neck strained as he tries to get himself in check.
“relax for me, please baby,” he pleads through gritted teeth, circling your clit. “can’t move like this, i’ll cum too soon.”
you breathe in and out as the two of you try to reel it in, and his hips start to move slowly as he feels you adjust to him.
“you’ve been my baby since the day we met,” he breathes out. “since the time you told me you could take it.”
his voice has always been addicting, over the phone, in person, sober or high, but the way he talks to you in this moment just stirs something in your gut. you can’t stop yourself from clenching at his words.
“oh, you like when i talk to you like that?” he pulls out to push you up so your legs are no longer hanging off the bed, making his way to hover above you as he re-enters you.
“you’ve always been so good for me, always so eager to learn, always so willing to take everything i give you,” he lowers himself as he says this straight into your ear. his hips pick up the pace again, hissing at the clench from his words.
“can you, f-fuck, can you take it now?” he breathes out as he feels himself reaching you deeper and deeper.
“i-i can take it, hyuck, i can take it,” you moan out, tears pricking at your eyes as you shut them tight. he’s fucking you so well, and you can only moan as you do just that — take everything he’s giving you.
“you know ’d never do any of this for anyone else, o-only you baby, just wanna make my girl happy,” your heart clenches at his words along with your pussy.
“thought m-my heart was gonna stop when, shit, w-when you called me crying,” his words come out more choked as his hips rut against yours more desperately, starting to feel his own high coming.
“need to be with you a-always, be the only reason you’re crying.” you can only chant his name and yes as you feel the band in your stomach start to get tighter and tighter.
“i’d fucking do anything for you, i’m yours,” he chokes out, and your nails dig into his back.
“i’m your baby, i’m yours, i’m yours,” you repeat, brain unable to form anything else. his kisses your neck before moving his head back above you, his chain swinging against your face as his pelvic bone slaps against your clit harshly.
he moves his head up to kiss you deeply, messy remnants of your own arousal still on his toungue. the bed is creaking under the harsh movements as you get closer and closer.
tears stream down the sides of your face as the band snaps, sending you hurling over the edge as your back arches, gripping onto him tightly.
he curses under his breath repeatedly, hips stuttering to push through the tightness as he cums inside with a loud groan, pushing his head into your neck as he fills you up completely.
he goes limp on top of you, lying there for a bit as you both catch your breath. his softening cock is still inside of you, and you can feel yourself getting drowzy until his stomach rumbles.
he hisses as he pulls out, rolling over to lie down next to you. you turn your head to look at him, entire body spent. your eyes meet his, so soft and full of awe. he looks just as worn, but little do you know, he’s just getting started.
“round 2 after dinner?”
the next morning, a half-asleep hyuck nuzzles you to wake you up, having set an alarm for your work shift.
“sleep okay, sunshine?” his morning voice is deep and groggy, and it’s taking everything in you to not call out for the day.
you feel pretty well rested until you realize how sore your entire body is as soon as you try to wiggle out of his bear hug. his arms wrapped around you are unmoving as he tries unsuccessfully to fully wake himself up as well.
forcing yourself to sit up, you rub your sore back. his hands are still stubbornly attached to your form.
“like a baby,” you reply. you grab your phone, checking your schedule for today, concluding that it’s flexible enough to take a sick day. you text your manager, settling back into hyuck’s arms as you tell him you’re staying home. eyes still half-closed, he presses kisses into every part of your face his lips can find.
“good.” his response is simple as he speaks with his actions, pulling you in closer as the two of you drift back into sleep.
you’re content knowing that your mission to get rid of your sleeping problem was a 100% success, in more ways than just through weed, and that it’s ending with you having more than you could have asked for.
end.
a/n: if you got to the end, thank you so much for reading!!! i know i say this about every fic i've written, but this one was truly truly self-indulgent. it's my first full fic for my ult, longest fic yet, and a birthday present to myself :')
i really appreciate all the support for everything even though i have long gaps between releases. i have had sm fun, and i hope you all enjoy!! this one's more plot than porn but it's def getting a pt2 that's the opposite (it's already planned). thank you again, feedback always loved and appreciated!!
disclaimer: know your limits when consuming weed of any kind. also not all edibles are bad and can be so chill, just for my personal experience my own tolerance of edibles is low compared to smoking 😭 reactions/tolerances vary among people (edibles work better than smoking for many!) but pls be in safe place or with trusted people if you are trying weed for the first time !!!
If there’s anything in life that Mark wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need.
or the one where mark is very inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.
ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mark another boner.
minors do not interact.
WORDCOUNT― 13.8K
PAIRING― mark lee x afab reader
CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant mark, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets mark go absolutely insane on her
NOTE― not proof read// will come back and maybe try to do that…anyway. im back in the game bitches, someone tell mark [DO NOT]!! disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. additionally: this is also posted on my other blog [@simpjaes] for jake so.........hahaha
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― mark isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, mark’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-”
Mark slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny.
Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three.
Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point.
It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself.
The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again.
It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting.
For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Mark has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway.
Almost given up.
A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Johnny in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Mark is proud to admit.
“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Johnny had said to him. “It’s only June!”
Maybe Johnny was right, and maybe Mark should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Johnny had advertised. “Even got Jisung laid.”
Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Mark has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jisung laid, surely it could get him laid too.
Maybe this one really is better.
And at the end of the day, Mark does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though?
We’ll see.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ah. Okay. Nice.
Mark stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh.
The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck.
Safe to say, Mark’s profile went a little something like this:
you can call me mark, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.
LOOKING FOR: Female
PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more]
PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A
SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference
SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]
NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism
OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn
Embarrassing? Yeah, probably.
Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him.
He can only imagine what the fuck Jisung had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Mark is desperate and so was Jisung at one point.
Apparently girls like desperate guys.
Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually.
“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?”
“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?”
“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”
Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.
Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.
Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Mark probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did.
And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real.
“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”
One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–
Oh.
Fuck yeah.
He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?”
Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.
He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God.
You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.
And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?
You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.
Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances.
Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?
Please.
Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs.
And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you.
Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems.
Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back.
Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally.
MARK_99 sent you a message: You awake?
Dick pic #1.
MARK_99 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol
Dick pic #2
MARK_99 sent you a message: Wake uppppppppppp!
MARK_99 sent you a message: Please? :(
Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it.
MARK_99 sent you a message: Do you already have me silenced?
MARK_99 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….
MARK_99 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”
Oh, he sounds like a fucking loser, love that..
MARK_99 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?
MARK_99 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff?
MARK_99 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot
MARK_99 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw?
Etcetera.
And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed.
You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond.
YOURUSERNAME: that was cute.
It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone.
YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby.
MARK_99: oh god please don’t say that
MARK_99: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again
YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then?
Yes, you’re teasing him.
MARK_99: if you’d let me
YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?
MARK_99: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again
You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you.
YOURUSERNAME: show me?
And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?
YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?
Oh, shit. Mark could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.
MARK_99: i’ll come over right now.
MARK_99: let me come over and show you
YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me
And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.
Public meeting first.
Always.
MARK_99: right, right, that makes sense.
MARK_99: so can i see your pussy then
You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits.
Meaning, he has to settle with them too.
And the photo is all but enough for Mark. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…
This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden.
He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it.
MARK_99: thats so hot…but….
MARK_99: pussy….
MARK_99: please show me your pussy
Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice.
And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open.
When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again.
MARK_99: tht was hot lol….um
MARK_99: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want
You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately.
And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.
YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot?
MARK_99: ….would u want me to?
YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good
MARK_99: hahah damn
MARK_99: so you’ll come see me?
YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you
MARK_99: ok cool :)
And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Mark is gonna be fun.
MARK_99 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good
Sounds promising.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.
Fucking handsome and charmingly cute.
Perhaps even, hot.
You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same voice you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.
Oh wow.
On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying.
Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock.
Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.
Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough.
You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used.
No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy.
It’s hot.
And when you approach, Mark nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first.
“Hi, did you find everything you–” Mark stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.” He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.
You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot.
No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.
“Do you wanna see my pussy?”
It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda.
You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal.
No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.
“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.”
You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there.
“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”
Mark swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.
“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.”
Mark squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place.
“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.”
“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Mark?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.”
“Please–” Mark blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this.
“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”
His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you.
“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.
“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.
Mark swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse?
Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then?
Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you.
You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.
Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now.
And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.
“Here it is.” Mark says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.”
You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever.
It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Mark is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers.
You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open.
You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally.
He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot.
“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny.
And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.
“Mark,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”
You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain.
“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove.
Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things.
And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan.
You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place.
“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”
He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more.
Mark’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.
And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Mark keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand.
“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket.
“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”
You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket.
“I’ll text you my address.”
And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Mark suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end.
Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently.
It’s not doing anything to hold him over though.
He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.
Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again.
“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles.
Mark wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy.
“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater.
Mark doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right.
“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!”
Mark would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too.
And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough.
“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!”
“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.
He needs to leave. Right now.
“S’all good,” Mark shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!”
And finally, Mark can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum.
He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful.
Careful isn’t something Mark can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work.
He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle.
“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck.
He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore.
You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems. He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.
“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.”
You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect.
“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”
Mark nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind.
“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”
You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back.
“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”
“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”
“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”
Mark groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either.
It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours.
“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone.
“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it.
The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.
“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”
“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”
You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”
If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.
Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you.
“Ah, fuck–” Mark groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….
“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads.
The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair.
Mark lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up.
It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.
“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath.
He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud.
“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”
As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you.
You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue.
“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really?
Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?
“God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you.
He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself.
Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue.
Oh fuck.
“Ahh- '' Mark moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything.
You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him.
“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?”
He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face.
There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.
Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.
“Mark–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose.
He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn.
And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you.
Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now.
You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock.
“Hah–” Mark lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”
You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose.
He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Mark managed to keep them shoved out of his way.
“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”
Mark has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer.
Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match.
You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling.
He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow.
Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too.
You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Mark just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.
“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”
Right. Bedrooms exist.
Mark follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him.
You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time.
You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.
He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.
He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward.
Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp.
“Could eat you out again.” Mark mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead.
Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Mark could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please.
“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated.
He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you.
“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?”
Mark nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him.
“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”
Oh, damn.
The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Mark.
Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night.
Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…
“Yeah?” Mark breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”
Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are.
“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”
God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock.
“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–”
He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.
“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”
Mark moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body.
“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”
With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches.
Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore.
You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely.
That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.
And god, Mark loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…
Oh no.
“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.
And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.
Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries.
“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely.
He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay.
He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more.
“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”
That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you.
“Don’t say that, oh god–” Mark mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”
Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.
Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.
And as Mark catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.
“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms.
And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes.
“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would.
His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…
His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips.
“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways.
Good.
“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,” He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”
You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips.
“Well, Mark–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”
Mark rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.
“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Mark groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”
You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this.
“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.
It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.
Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t.
Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.
He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold.
You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.
“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time.
The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Mark is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.
For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Mark can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.
He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained.
“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”
Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation.
Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently.
“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”
You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw.
“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”
A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw.
“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”
You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope.
“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”
Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t.
“You can have it any time you want.” Mark smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.”
You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.
“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”
You shake your head.
“Not usually, you just turn me on.”
Mark feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl.
Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of.
“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again.
“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.
“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”
Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this.
“Yes, Mark,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”
His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use.
“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”
You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot.
“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”
Oh.
“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”
So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic.
“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”
This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control.
“You want me to sit on it, Mark?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction.
The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth.
Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it.
He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are.
And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch.
“That’s it.” Mark soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.
And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it.
“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving.
Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation.
It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation.
You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed.
“Oh, oh shit, Mark–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no.
“What– What’s wrong?!” Mark’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing.
Pushing, pushing, pushing.
“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest.
Mark just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide.
“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?”
And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.
“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe.
Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before.
Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–
“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours.
Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”
At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.
But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural.
And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression.
“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.”
And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The “rest” didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Mark remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.
To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves you.
And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely.
Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Mark seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key.
Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties.
summary: lee jeno is the furthest idea of a possible suitor in your mind. yet somehow, fate continues to pair you together.
genre: fluff, angst, smut
warnings: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, creampie, slight breeding kink
this is basically pride & prejudice (2005)
“You are behaving foolishly,” you comment as Minji runs around the room, encouraging your headache to grow. Jimin exhales from her spot next to you, hands folded in her lap like one of those formal ladies you used to make fun of when you were younger.
“Minji, please sit,” Jimin sighs exasperatedly. Minjeong giggles from her position on the opposite couch, slouching even though she’s not meant to look so unseemly.
Minji finally takes her seat and rolls her eyes at Jimin. “Sister, you must feel some ounce of joy. It’s our first time at a ball!”
It was true — your family had been all but shunned from any formal engagements due to your lack of wealth, but lately, your father has climbed up the ranks and gotten respect from some of the rich parties across town. His hard work resulted in you and your sisters being invited to your first ball, an elite event made up of high society members.
Your mother took this as a sign of a wedding on the horizon since none of your sisters have received formal proposals yet despite being of age. Minji is overjoyed, Jimin is stressing out, and Minjeong is displeased with the situation at hand. Minjeong has always been proud of your family, regardless of status, and she hates the social climbers that migrated around these parties.
You’re indifferent to tonight’s events, willing to tag along to whatever boisterous adventures you find.
Your mother comes frantically into the room just as Minji has finally calmed herself down, hair tied messily on top of her head and corset barely laced up.
“Girls, we must leave soon!” She declares, stroking her fingers through Minjeong’s hair to perfect it.
“Mother, you look unkempt,” Jimin scolds, standing from her spot to finish lacing up your mother’s corset and taming her unruly hair. Your mother profusely apologizes before shooing her away.
“This night is not about me. It’s about you girls. Now remember, Mr. Lee and Mr. Na will both be in attendance. They come from very affluent families, and it would be in your best interest to invest your time into them as they are the most desired bachelors of the season.”
Minjeong scoffs. “Mother, I highly doubt entertaining these men who deny our self-worth is in our best interest.”
Your mother’s mouth opens to scold Minjeong until the click of your father’s shoes come padding down the hall. In his old age, your father traditionally expects all of you to be married off before he passes. Otherwise, the estate transfers over to your cousin, Nakamoto Yuta, who has always been less than kind to your family. You know he would wed you and your sisters off to the first men he comes across just to keep your family’s earnings for himself.
“Are we ready to depart?” Your father asks, smiling proudly in his formal wear. All of your sisters rise from their seats, with Minji nearly jumping out of hers and Minjeong being heavily prodded by your mother.
It’s a long ride to the ball with your family’s estate being located further away from higher society. You and Minji play games on the journey as Minjeong sleeps and Jimin frets over what to say when you arrive.
Jimin has always been the more responsible one out of your sisters, and you understand she has a heavier burden on her shoulders to be married first. Luckily with you being one year younger, there wasn’t as much of an expectation for you to be wed so fast.
The arrival of your family is greeted with a hesitant welcome, most of the men smiling at your father and the women analyzing your sisters and your mother. You grip Minjeong’s arm for dear life, feeling a little more hesitant about the experience now that you have stepped foot on the grounds.
“This is absurd,” Minjeong whispers in your ear as you enter the expansive ballroom. People are gathered in some of their most formal outerwear with music echoing around the dance floor.
“Would you not enjoy a dance?” You ask your sister, heels clacking against the wood floors as you scurry your way through the crowd. You imagine dancing would be quite nice — you and your siblings have spent nights practicing in your rooms, hands joining together as you pretend that you all are actually on the dance floor. Tonight would be perfect to bring those memories to life, but Minjeong doesn’t seem very fond of the idea.
“Have you forgotten that we are not allowed to dance with one another? We must find a partner,” she reminds you, and your eyes flutter around the room to see the prospects.
You’ve seen most of these men in passing, like Lee Taeyong or Lee Mark. You have heard that the brothers are kinder than their appearance might make them seem and perhaps they would entertain you with a spin on the floor.
You suddenly feel Minji grip your arm and she squeals in your ear. “There they are! Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin!”
Your eyes turn to the entrance, where the men of the night are starting to flock in. Lee Jeno, a known affluent man, owns one of the largest estates in the country and has been one of the most desired bachelors for years now. His friend, Na Jaemin, has just moved to the country, making this ball his first public appearance. Similar to Jeno, Jaemin owns multiple estates with an abundant fortune sitting in his bank.
In this world, they are a girl’s one way ticket to safety.
You see Jimin’s back straighten in anticipation, and you know she has her eyes set on Jaemin.
Your mother approaches your side, squeezing your arm. “Behave now, girls.”
Your family gathers to present yourselves in front of Jeno and Jaemin, bowing and curtsying in respect. Jeno simply appears bored, eyes scanning the room in an air of confidence and arrogance. Jaemin immediately smiles at Jimin, who grows slightly bashful under his gaze.
“Mr. Na, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” your father greets first, shaking Jaemin’s hand with fervor.
“You as well, sir. I’m taken by the people’s hospitality to my arrival,” Jaemin remarks.
“It’s rare we get a new face in this town,” your mother replies happily. “And such a handsome one at that.”
Jaemin’s smile is blinding, basking in the compliments and attention. Jeno, on the other hand, looks like he wants to leave and never return.
The music suddenly changes to the tempo of the traditional dance, and Jaemin asks Jimin to join him on the floor. Your sister shyly accepts and you hear both your mother and Minji squeal to one another. Minjeong rolls her eyes and informs you she’s going to find some refreshments for herself.
She leaves you with Jeno, who still appears stiff and unapproachable. You decide to take the first leap into conversation.
“Do you like to dance, Mr. Lee?”
He blinks once, scanning you before answering. “Not if I can help it.”
You’re deterred by his answer until Minji tugs you forward, nudging you to join her on the dance floor. You’re paired with Taeyong, who politely bows to you.
You feel a pair of eyes follow you while you maneuver around bodies of the elite, and your mind lingers on the disdainful presence of Lee Jeno.
Once the music subsides, you take another politeful curtsy to Taeyong before sweeping the room for your fellow companion, An Yujin. Yujin, like your family, was not born into wealth and struggles in society as you do. However, because of her charisma, she is able to sneak her way into parties by charming some of the men for an invitation. You spot her in between a few other guests and eagerly pull her away.
“You did not tell me you were coming!” She exclaims, wrapping you up in a hug.
“We were not informed until earlier this week,” you share, walking along with her as you move your way through the crowd. “Is it not so lovely?”
“Very,” she giggles, her voice turning down when you spot Jeno and Jaemin walking very close to you two. They do not catch sight of you, speaking quietly to one another.
“What a splendid night, so many lovely women,” Jaemin chuckles.
Jeno replies in a bored tone. “You were dancing with the only lovely woman in this room.”
“Yes, she was quite a keeper, was she not?” Jaemin hums, and you and Yujin exchange a look. “I saw you speaking to her sister. She was quite admirable as well.”
Jeno scoffs. “Admirable? Barely tolerable, I would say.”
The conversation is cut short when Jaemin’s sister sweeps them away to meet another family. You huff at Jeno’s clear dislike of you and Yujin pats your hand in comfort when they disappear into the crowd.
“What a horrid man,” you comment.
“Do not fret,” Yujin smiles. “If he liked you, you would actually have to speak with him.”
You giggle in agreement. “Yes, imagine having to entertain a man like that.”
“Jimin looks rather happy, though,” Yujin remarks fondly. “She’s thoroughly taken by Mr. Na.”
You gaze over at your sister, who is happily chattering with Minji. “It seems so. I hope mother is taking her bearings and not placing too much pressure upon her shoulders.”
“I think it might be too late for that.”
Your mother has suddenly grouped Minji and Jimin into directly speaking with Jaemin and Jeno. You exchange a look with Yujin before walking over to save your sisters from this debacle. When you step into their circle, you hear Jaemin compliment Jimin’s dancing.
“She is quite the dancer, if I must say.”
“Yes, yes!” Your mother shouts. “She and her sisters practice all the time. My handsome Jimin, you see, is definitely the most well-rounded of all my daughters!”
“Mother!” You scold, trying to stop her as she continues to embarrass your sisters.
However, she ignores your protest and Jimin’s visible contempt. “Jimin’s always had a vast amount of suitors, you know. There was this one bewitching gentleman who I thought would propose to her last spring but alas, all the man did was write a few poems.”
“And that ended it completely,” you cut in, and Jimin throws you a grateful look. “Who ever decided that poetry was a suitable medium to a woman’s heart? Very poor choice, might I say.”
Your statement earns you a few laughs until a haughty voice interrupts.
“So what do you propose?” Jeno retorts, and it’s the most engaged he’s been with you all night. His eyes bore into yours with the most intense observance. “Poetry has been the love language for suitors across all ages. What do you propose is better to take its place?”
You smile mischievously. “Dancing, I believe. Even if one’s partner is barely tolerable.”
Jeno’s face morphs into a mix of understanding and discomfort at your recall. You smirk, offering him another curtsy before vanishing back into the crowd.
You feel the burn of his stare follow you.
—
“Shopping for such a simple piece of clothing must seem so benign, do you not think so?”
“Yes, it quite certainly is,” you reply, tugging Minjeong into a nearby fabric store. “But it is necessary in order to impress the likes of the Na family for Jimin’s best interest.”
You and your sisters have made a trip into town to purchase new dresses for another upcoming ball planned by Jaemin. Since your first encounter with him, he and Jimin have made slow strides into courting one another, and this dance may be an opportunity to make it more official. Therefore, you have taken the role of stringing your family into the best shape to appease high society.
Jimin is already browsing through a variety of pinks and blues, carefully explaining to the seamstress that she has no desire for lavish embellishments to her dress. Although she would never admit her nerves, you can detect it from the way she frantically combs her fingers through her hair.
“Play nice for once,” you say to Minjeong, stroking her arm in consolation. “This could mean wonders for Jimin.”
“I can play nice,” Minjeong agrees hesitantly, pretending to be interested in some of the frilly ribbon decorating the store.
The bell above the door rings, signaling another customer walking in. You all turn to see a gentleman come inside, and you curtsy to greet him.
“My apologies for the intrusion,” he smiles, and you take note how captivating he appears. “It’s pouring out there and I was hoping to take shelter in here.”
“Of course, Mr. Lee,” the seamstress nods, gesturing for him to walk about as he pleases.
His eyes zero in on you. He takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You bow your head coyly.
“Lee Donghyuck, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Are you ladies also shielding yourselves from the horrid rain?”
You smile and return your hand to your side.
“In contrast, Mr. Lee, we are prolifically finding ourselves a manner of dress for the Na ball,” you share, and his eyes sparkle at your response.
“Ah, I see. It must be an extremely difficult decision for you then.”
You laugh. “Yes, it’s quite the hunt for us.”
Minjeong suddenly reappears next to you. “And what brings you to town this evening, Mr. Lee?”
He offers a nod to your sister. “Some of the men from our militia district are in town for our homecoming. We have gathered into town to see what we all have dearly missed from our time away.”
His eyes flit over to you once more, and you bashfully glance down at your feet.
“I must come and see what beholds the community of this ball,” he states, hands wringing together behind his back. “It looks to be an event of importance.”
As soon as Jimin finds the right fabric for her dress and you review the designs for the rest of your family, Donghyuck offers to walk you all back to your estate. Luckily, the weather clears by the time you finish shopping.
You speak with Donghyuck on the way home, with Minji throwing the two of you suggestive looks as you break off from the others.
“How long are you in town for then?”
“Another fortnight or two, dependent on the weather,” he replies, his shoulder brushing against yours as you stride along.
“It must be pleasant to be back home. I cannot imagine how much you have missed it,” you say, enjoying the warmth of his figure every time his arm presses against yours.
He opens his mouth to respond before Minji’s loud hollers interrupt him.
“Oh, Mr. Na! Mr. Na!”
Minji calls out to Jaemin across the river, who is riding horseback alongside Jeno. Your eyes narrow at Jeno’s appearance, still feeling offended from his malicious comments against you. He, in turn, returns your heated glare but to your surprise, it’s not directed at you. His focus is solely on the man beside you, and you notice how Donghyuck tenses at his presence.
“Mr. Na, we just came from the dress shop to look fitting for your ball!” Minji calls happily.
Jaemin gives a nod, his eyes floating to Jimin.
“I’m happy to hear of it!” He replies.
The conversation is cut short when Jeno suddenly instructs his horse to trot away. You observe his abrupt exit, with Jaemin promising to see your family at the ball before following his friend.
“Very ill-mannered, that one is,” Donghyuck comments, scoffing as Jeno’s figure disappears further and further in the distance.
You begin the trek home again as Minjeong speeds up her pace and Jimin tugs Minji along to keep up. You fall behind in order to uncover the deeper meaning of Donghyuck’s words.
“You seem to have an uncivil assumption of Mr. Lee,” you note to him, and he hums in agreement.
“Mr. Lee and I do not get along well.”
“May I inquire why?”
“I have known Mr. Lee since birth, you see. Our families were very close and I thought of his father as mine and he thought mine as his. When my father passed, I became closer to his own as a result. Eventually, when Jeno’s father grew sickly, he asked that the rights of the Lee estate be passed onto me. At that point, you must imagine, we were closer than he and his son ever were and it drove Jeno wild with jealousy.”
You can visualize Jeno as the epitome of bitterness, envy blazing his form as he watches Donghyuck grow closer to his father. You fail to realize how your bias towards disliking Jeno prevents you from questioning the truthfulness to Donghyuck’s story.
He continues. “After his father passed, Jeno willingly sought my demise by forcing me into the militia and preventing me from inheriting his estate. I hope you can see now why I do not enjoy entertaining his presence.”
“That is purely vengeful,” you say with sympathy, almost wishing to apologize on Jeno’s behalf. “It pains me to think you had to go through such a thing.”
He smiles and shrugs it off.
“It is in the past, and we must look towards the future. I shall be delighted to see you at the ball, miss.”
You curtsy and grin. “You as well, Mr. Lee.”
—
Donghyuck is the first person you search for when you arrive at the Na estate.
You spot Yujin in between bodies, tugging her along in your search. She laughs and follows you as you weave your way through the crowd.
“How handsome is he that has you so besotten?”
“He’s just wonderful, Yujin!” You exclaim passionately. “If you spoke to him as well, you would know!”
You pass by numerous familiar faces, asking them if they have seen Donghyuck lingering around. You disappointingly receive a resounding denial at the sight of his presence.
Jimin calls your name quietly when she approaches you and Yujin in the drawing room.
“I do not believe Mr. Lee is here. It seems he has been sent off.”
You frown. “Sent off? Oh, but he must be here!”
“There you are.”
All three of you jump at the sound of a male voice entering your conversation. You turn to see your cousin, Yuta, staring at you intimidatingly. You curtsy in respect.
“I was wondering if it would please you to join me.”
He gestures to the dance floor and you almost choke.
“Mr. Nakamoto, I did not know you danced.”
If you did not know any better, you would guess Yuta was glaring at you judging by the weight of his stare.
“I do not think it so inappropriate for a gentleman of my status to ask a woman for a dance. As much as I think it is not inappropriate for you to accept.”
You flounder. Your sisters had gossiped a few days ago about Yuta being in search of a wife, but you would have never guessed he had his sights set on you.
You nod timidly, trying your best to ignore Yujin and Jimin’s incredulity. He guides you to the floor and you make your best attempt at taking him seriously.
The dance is almost comical to you, suddenly burdened by Yuta’s intense gaze. He has never shown the slightest interest towards you until now, and his advances only bring you laughter.
As soon as the music ends, you grab Yujin’s arm and pull her away to avoid Yuta’s further questioning. The two of you giggle at the spectacle that just took place.
“Can you believe Mr. Nakamoto just-“
Your voice catches in your throat when you almost collide into someone’s chest. Your eyes drift up to catch the sight of Jeno.
He still has that same bored expression painting his face but you can see a hint of nervousness clouding his eyes.
“May I have the next dance?”
You are slightly startled by the question, but you manage to keep your decorum intact.
“You may.”
He offers you a nod before disappearing into the crowd once more. Yujin squeezes your arm.
“Did you agree to dance with Mr. Lee?”
“For heaven’s sake, I believe I have. I must be going mad, Yujin. He is the man I have sworn to hate,” you gasp.
She shakes you from your trance and guides you back to the dance floor, bringing you face to face with Jeno. He is a lot more restless than usual, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he avoids your gaze.
The dance begins with a respectful curtsy and bow. You begin to move to meet Jeno at the center and remark, “This is a beautiful dance.”
He curtly nods. “Yes, I think so.”
He is rather lucky you’re determined to be on your best behavior or else you would have rolled his eyes at the simple comment. You turn past Kang Seulgi’s figure and meet him again in the middle.
“It is your turn to make conversation, Mr. Lee. Usually, you would compliment the host of the gathering or comment on the people who have attended.”
“Is that so?” He muses, taking slow steps around Lee Mark to circle back to you. You join your hands in the middle and pace quietly to the hum of the violin playing. “Please do tell what invigorating subject you would like for me to focus on.”
You can tell he’s trying to push your buttons and you grit your teeth. “A lady must not lead the conversation so easily, Mr. Lee. It is your job to set the tone.”
You separate to continue the dance, rotating again around Seulgi and Mark’s figures.
“Do you and your sisters go shopping in town often?”
You hesitate, knowing he’s beginning to broach the subject of Donghyuck. You connect in the middle, the bottom of your dress skirting by him.
“Lately yes, we have. We find it a great opportunity to get out and meet new people. In fact, we had just met a lovely man that day you saw us by the river.”
His lips press into a thin line. “Lee Donghyuck is charming, indeed. His ability to win over women’s hearts is quite notable, but it does not fare in comparison to his ability to quickly lose that adoration.”
You bite back, dancing in another circle and attempting to keep your composure. “Yes, and it was so devastating to hear that he has lost that devotion from you. Quite irreversible, is it?”
“Indeed,” he nearly hisses, stopping in the middle to sneer at you. The dance continues but you hold your ground, staring at him with as much anger as you can muster. “Why do you ask such a question?”
“To inquire into your character, Mr. Lee.”
His eyes burn with an unanticipated flame. “And what did you discover?”
“Very little. I hear quite different stories about your character and it baffles me exceptionally.”
“My apologies,” he states, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I hope to clear your troubled thoughts going forward.”
You both resume the dance, but it somehow feels like the entire room has disappeared. The weight of your words builds the tension and you follow the steps of the dance you know by heart, but your eyes no longer drift to different parts of the room. They stay focused on Jeno, who is equally captured by you.
The two of you speak nothing more until you return to the same spots you started the dance in. The sound of applause jolts you out of your stupor and you take one last look at Jeno, offering him a polite curtsy before exiting the floor.
You’re startled when you nearly run into Yuta again on your way to the drawing room.
He says your name in a rigid tone. “You’re well acquainted with Mr. Lee?”
You almost stutter. “Not very well. I will admit, I’m surprised to see you at such an event, Mr. Nakamoto.”
“Are you? Your mother has brought it up to me on many occasions, especially noting that you would be in attendance.”
You clench a fist behind your back and silently curse your mother.
“Did she? I cannot imagine why she would think that would be of importance to you.”
“I am sure you have heard of my search for a companion to my estate. Lady Park has been stressing the issue and I am not one to avoid her suggestions,” he shares, taking a small step closer to you.
You take a step back. You and your sisters know all about Lady Park — the woman who financially supports Yuta until he gets a hold of your family’s fortune when you and your siblings are married off and your father has passed. She dictates every aspect of Yuta’s life and he must engage in her wishes to ensure his funds are properly taken care of.
“Mr. Nakamoto, I will save you the trouble. I have no desire to be married at this time, so whatever offer my mother promised you cannot be fulfilled on my account.”
He frowns. “Surely, a girl of your age understands the need for a husband in this economy. A comfortable life could save you the misfortune of attending these dances.”
“If you do not mind my candor, I do not believe a comfortable life for me would include you in it. I sincerely hope you are able to find a wife who is best suited to help you run your estate.”
You curtsy for him, ignoring the malicious sneer he throws your way. You scurry into the drawing room, searching for Yujin and finding her near the piano. Minji is playing to her heart’s content and it seems she has been doing so for hours, and your father walks over to tell her to be mindful of other people’s time.
You loop your arm around Yujin’s to get her attention.
“Oh, how was it?” She exclaims enthusiastically as you pull her away. “You did not look so pleased to be in Mr. Lee’s presence from what I could see.”
You huff. “Truly an understatement. And you will not believe the kind of proposal Mr. Nakamoto approached me with.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Do not tell me-“
“I denied it, of course. It would have been a loveless coupling, much to my mother’s chagrin.”
She frowns at your indifference. “You know, you are blissfully lucky to even have such an offer come across you. Your family has only been in high society for a few months yet you have already gotten a marriage proposal from a wealthy suitor.”
“Is that all you heard? A wealthy suitor,” you repeat with a scoff. “Yujin, Mr. Nakamoto has despised my family since Jimin came of age. I would like to think I should get a say in who I marry and not just because he is inheriting my father’s pocket.”
You brush off her continued sorrow over your situation. Your eyes scan the room, seeing your mother hang by the staircase with a glass of wine in her hands, loudly praising Jimin for catching the attention of Jaemin. Jimin, on the other hand, is conversing quietly with him a few feet away, awkwardly tucking her hair behind her ears and avoiding his gaze. Minji is tugging Minjeong along now that she is not berating a crowd with her piano playing, the both of them laughing at some of the guests around them.
“I believe my family is entertaining the masses well enough,” you muse.
She laughs and nods, sweeping your previous conversation about Yuta under the rug.
“The upside is that Mr. Na does not seem to mind,” she says, and the two of you watch him laugh at something Jimin has whispered.
“I think he is quite devoted to her.”
She hums. “But does she return his favor?”
You chuckle. “What are you on about? Of course she does! He’s all she ever thinks about.”
“All I am saying is that having a wonderful man like Mr. Na becoming smitten is a rare chance. However, if Jimin does not outwardly express her intentions, he could be deterred from continuing his advances.”
You shake your head. “She’s just shy, you know that. She is not the type to wear her heart on her sleeve like most other women.”
“But Mr. Na is not well acquainted with that fact. He does not know her as we do. She has to take advantage of his love before the clock runs out.”
You study your sister and her suitor, wondering if Yujin was right.
Your eyes drift over to catch Jeno’s, who is intently watching you from across the room. His hands are folded behind his back and despite the many women surrounding him, he only has his gaze directed at you. You interpret it in the wrong fashion, assuming he has once again taken on a mission to taunt you.
You hold your head high, hauling Yujin to the next room and disregarding the irritating presence of Lee Jeno.
—
It is weeks later when your family catches news that Jaemin is leaving the city.
Jimin is utterly distraught, ostracizing herself in her room while your mother frantically runs around the house, insisting the news cannot be true. You hesitantly approach Jimin as she is crying on her bed, curled up with her face stuffed in her pillow. You brush back her hair and sigh.
“Mr. Na is an idiot for leaving without proposing to you,” you say, trying your best to comfort her. “All of us could see he was so taken with you. I am sure he will return soon and bring you with him.”
“Do not bother,” she sniffles, wiping the tears falling down her cheeks. “I knew I could never be an acceptable fit for him. He saw our family and ran for the hills.”
“Stop putting yourself below him,” you scold. “You were a very acceptable match for him and it is his fault if he could not see how uniquely extraordinary you are. He will learn his regret soon.”
You leave her to wallow in her sadness, telling your mother to stop her fussing and leave Jimin alone. You catch some fresh air outside, basking in the sunlight before you hear the crunch of leaves from behind you.
You barely register Yujin’s form until she’s tackling you in a hug. You gasp and lock your arms tight around her.
“What on earth are you doing here?” You laugh, and she gives you another squeeze before pulling away. You take in the anxiety clouding her face.
“I have come to tell you the joyful news — Mr. Nakamoto and I are engaged.”
You take a step back, astonished by the reveal. You blink rapidly and stutter. “E-Engaged? To be wed?”
“Of course, silly. What other kind of engaged is there?” She drinks in your nauseated expression and sighs. “Do not give me that. You should be perfectly happy for me.”
“But he is ridiculous! And so much older than you. Yujin, you cannot possibly-“
“Yes, I can,” she replies in a stern tone. “Not all of us can afford to have choices. He is offering me a comfortable life and a beautiful home. And now, your family will no longer have to worry that some tyrant will swoop in and steal your father’s earnings.”
“But Yujin-“
She continues. “My father is very close to losing his job and my family is in danger of falling from high society. I do not have many prospects, and I am very thankful that Mr. Nakamoto approached me. I am terribly frightened, do you not see? So please, do not judge me.”
You embrace her. “I apologize, I did not realize how tough it must have been for you.”
She shakily returns your affection. “Promise me you will come visit when you can? Lady Park has a wonderful cottage that we will be staying in when we are married.”
You nod. “I most certainly will. I have to ensure you are being taken care of properly.”
She giggles. “I will miss you.”
After a tearful goodbye, you watch Yujin’s figure disappear into the horizon and return home. You feel a plethora of emotions swirling around your head from Yujin’s future — mainly concern but also a feeling of happiness for her safety. As much as you were not fond of Yuta, you know he would still treat her with respect.
You are taken aback when you enter your home to see your mother with a handful of garments in her arms. She rushes up the stairs with Minji following closely behind. You fume when you see her entering Jimin’s room.
“Mother, I told you to leave Jimin well enough alone!”
You ascend the staircase and follow them, confused when you see a suitcase splayed out on Jimin’s bed as your mother stuffs clothing into it as fast as she can.
“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims at the sight of you. “Come here and help Jimin pack for her trip. Where in heavens did you disappear to?”
Your eldest sister is now up on her feet, looking slightly more lively. Minji is eagerly folding dresses for her.
You speak slowly. “I was out speaking with Yujin. She is betrothed to Mr. Nakamoto.”
They all pause at the news. Your mother is the most engaged, furious by the revelation.
“I told you! Mr. Nakamoto is a reputable man who could have brought you wonderful children.” You wince at the thought. “You should have accepted his proposal when he offered!”
“Oh mother,” Jimin interjects, coming to your defense. “The man did not even have the decency to ask father for permission.”
“What exactly are we packing for?” You ask, desperate to move the topic of conversation far from you.
Your mother immediately brightens, forgetting about nagging you for a second. “Jimin is going out of the city to stay with your aunt and uncle! She will remain for a visit until Mr. Na sees the error of his ways.”
You frown, approaching them as they continue to pack Jimin’s belongings.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Of course it’s what she wants!”
You and Jimin ignore your mother’s enthusiasm. She nods at you, smiling softly.
“I think so. No, no, I believe so. I want to fight for him.”
You smile at the sparkle of determination in your sister’s eye. You happily help her fold the rest of her belongings.
Your mother has already called the carriage, with Minjeong holding the door open with a disinterested look on her face. Jimin envelops her in a hug as she passes and you see Minjeong’s hardened expression melt a little.
You all help Jimin into the carriage and wave her off, praying to the heavens that Na Jaemin will offer her a second chance.
—
You breathe in the smell of the quaint countryside, laughing when Yujin comes bursting out the front door of her cottage and embraces you tightly.
“I cannot believe you are finally here! I have waited so long for your arrival,” she says.
“I am delighted the weather was favorable enough for the trip,” you murmur, pulling away and smiling softly. “This is a lovely home, Yujin.”
“Oh please, you flatter me so. You have not yet seen the inside!”
She pulls you through the door, and you drink in the sight of the living room. It feels warm and cozy, which is exactly what you would expect from a home decorated by your friend.
Yuta comes walking down the long hallway, eyeing you.
“I see you have made a successful trip here.”
You curtsy. “Yes, Mr. Nakamoto. I am honored that you and Yujin have allowed me to stay for a short period.”
“You know you can stay for as long as you like!” Yujin exclaims. “I have missed your company a great many.”
She guides you into the room where you will take your stay. She helps you unpack your luggage, admiring the new dresses you have acquired in her absence.
“And how is Jimin? I was curious to know of her whereabouts since the last letter of yours arrived.”
You sigh. “It has been months since she left to stay with our aunt and uncle. No progress has been made for her and Mr. Na, and I fear for her heartbreak when she returns to us.”
Yujin frowns. “How dreadful. I do hope she is able to win his affections before it is too late.”
“Whatever the case may be, Mr. Na has surely lost a beautiful bride.”
She hums in agreement.
Yuta interrupts your conversation hours later, rushing into your room with a delighted expression.
“Yujin! Lady Park has asked us to come to supper,” he declares.
Yujin stands from her spot on your bed, clapping her hands in excitement.
“Oh, wonderful! That is absolutely delightful.” She turns to you, gripping your elbows. “You must come with us. Lady Park would be overjoyed to meet you.”
“O-Oh,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. “I haven’t got much to wear.”
Yuta brushes off your concern. “Lady Park is not averse to your manner of dress. Simply put on your best and you can accompany us.”
You join Yujin and Yuta that evening to meet Lady Park at her grand estate, which is merely a few miles away from their cottage. You hold your breath as you enter the grand drawing room, where Lady Park sits with her daughter, Chaeyoung.
You curtsy in respect alongside Yujin, and Lady Park eyes you warily.
“We are honored you have asked us to dine with you tonight, Lady Park,” Yujin says, hands folded neatly above her stomach.
You are about to voice your agreement until a creak in the hardwood distracts you. Your eyes flutter over to the doorway to catch the sight of Jeno entering.
“Mr. Lee,” you murmur in surprise. “I did not expect to see you here.”
The familiar burn of his stare welcomes you. He bows his head and you return the favor.
He says your name, and you feel a rush travel down your spine. You have not heard him speak since the night of the dance.
“I am a guest here,” he explains simply.
Lady Park stands from her seat on the chaise lounge.
“You are familiar with my nephew?”
You digest the information, storing away the fact that Yuta never mentioned Jeno was related to Lady Park.
“Yes, I had the privilege of meeting your nephew a few months ago, ma’am.”
You hear Jeno almost scoff at the suggestion of your encounter being anything but dreadful. You clench your fists behind your back to prevent an outburst.
“And this is my cousin,” Jeno introduces, stepping aside to allow another man to come into your line of vision. He smiles and bows. “Park Jisung.”
You pay your courtesy and Lady Park instructs the group to gather in the dining room for supper. You take a spot next to Jisung and across from Yujin.
Before you can get comfortable, Lady Park scolds Yuta. “Mr. Nakamoto, you cannot sit next to your wife and only converse with her. Switch with our guest.”
You awkwardly switch places with Yuta, now sitting next to Yujin and Jeno. Your shoulder brushes by his, and he instinctively leans closer to you. Your breath hitches slightly at the proximity.
With the seating arrangements in order, you all take your seats and begin dining into the feast.
Jeno clears his throat. “Has your family been faring well?”
It takes a moment for you to register that he is speaking to you. You glance at him, only to find him engrossed in his meal.
“They have been doing well, all things considered,” you reply. You cannot help but prod him for answers. “Jimin has actually gone to stay with our aunt and uncle, close to where Mr. Na is staying. Perhaps you have seen her.”
He looks at you. “I have not had the pleasure, no.”
You purse your lips. “What a shame. I know she would be delighted to have your company.”
He hums. “Is that so? Is she the only one who would enjoy my companionship at this time?”
Your mouth hangs open in surprise at his confidence. A sliver of his true personality shows, with the corner of his lips threatening to lift.
Lady Park interrupts your exchange as she calls your name.
“Do you play the piano?”
You shake your head, trying to disregard that Lee Jeno’s character seems to be more than that of a boring nobleman. “Not very well, ma’am. I’m afraid that is a talent reserved for my youngest sister.”
“And your sisters — how many of you are out in society?”
You smile as politely as you can. “All of us, ma’am.”
Lady Park is shocked by the revelation. “All of you? All at once? The youngest being out before the oldest ones are married? Why, that is unheard of.”
“I should not think to burden my younger sisters simply because the oldest ones are not yet wed. They deserve to have their fair share of enjoyment,” you voice, ignoring her continued surprise by your candor.
“You have a lot of opinions for a girl so young and still not in charge of her own household,” Lady Park sighs. “It would do you well to hold your tongue.”
Your fingers tighten around your spoon but you’re amazed when Jeno speaks up.
“I think she is very gifted for her age, considering her family was not born in the faces of high society. I do not think playing the piano would truly showcase the talent she encompasses.”
Lady Park’s lips dissolve into a thin line at her nephew’s impudence. You swallow the jarring emotions you feel at Jeno’s blatant defense of you.
“Well, I must be carrying the customs of my time then. However, I shall hear you play a piece for us after supper.”
“Ma’am, I stress to you that I do not lie when I say I play the piano poorly-“
Yuta hisses your name across the table, throwing you a stern glance. Yujin has a pleading look painting her own features.
“She would be happy to play for you,” Yuta says firmly, with no room for argument.
You swallow your dispute, looking back down at your bowl of soup as Lady Park scolds her daughter for her poor posture. In the corner of your eye, you see Jeno’s hand twitch.
Your head raises and you catch his stare — his eyes no longer holding the small glimmer of amusement you caught earlier.
The last thing you want is for Lee Jeno to feel sorry for you, so you return to finishing your meal, brushing off his concern.
After dinner, you go back to the drawing room and hesitantly take a seat at the grand piano in the corner of the room.
Your fingers clumsily press down on the keys, playing an off-tune version of the last piece you memorized. The group continues to chatter behind you as Lady Park invites Yujin to come visit whenever she pleases. Jeno slowly approaches you and you shake your head.
“There is no need to point out my terrible sense of musical inclination, Mr. Lee. It is a flaw I’m very well acquainted with.”
“I had no intention to do so,” he replies. “And no gentleman would ever raise attention to a fault a woman believes she has, even if he disagrees with her.”
You stop playing briefly to look up at him. He’s already staring back at you, his eyes now conveying an emotion you cannot recognize. You wonder what you would find if you peeled back a few layers of his hard exterior.
Jisung draws near, his hand cupping Jeno’s shoulder with familiarity.
“You must tell me how my dear cousin behaved when he was in your town.”
You laugh under your breath. “I must disappoint you, Mr. Park, as your cousin was very indifferent during his stay. Despite the many women begging for a dance and the lack of suitors on the floor, Mr. Lee still insisted on keeping to himself and refusing to make conversation with others.”
Jisung chuckles. “Truth be told, that sounds very akin to the cousin I know. I have never seen him dance with another woman willingly.”
You pause, remembering how Jeno asked you to dance the night of Jaemin’s ball. You recall how nervous he looked when he faced you, almost as if he was jumping out of his socks.
Jeno clenches his jaw. “Well, dear cousin, I am sure you understand how difficult it is for me to gab about with people I’m not familiar with. Dances are not something I take pleasure in.”
You interject. “Even if it is a woman’s choice of love language? A way you can show her your affection?”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he catches on to what you’re referring to.
“Perhaps then, there could be an exception.”
Lady Park admonishes you for not playing as instructed and you return to the piano, paying no heed to Jeno’s presence for the rest of the evening.
—
Your hand aches as you finish writing your letter to Jimin, sealing the envelope carefully.
You are anxious by the state of your sister’s duress, as it seems Mr. Na has still not come to visit her. Jimin is growing more and more disappointed by the day, feeling as if she has burdened your family with this ridiculous adventure. You wish you could see her and tell her that she would never be a burden to you, but writing a letter is the only communication you can give to her at this time while you continue your stay with Yujin and Yuta.
Just as you place the envelope back down on the table in your room, the door swings open.
You’re startled when Jeno walks through the door, his eyes frantic.
“Mr. Lee,” you say, failing to hide the surprise in your voice as you stand.
You both pay your respects and you wait for him to explain the meaning of his visit, as it has been a week since you saw him at Lady Park’s dinner festivities. However, the words seem to be caught in his throat because he says nothing to you, opening and closing his mouth furiously.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nakamoto went to the village,” you bring up, pondering if that was the reason he was here.
“Yes,” he clears his throat, fiddling with the sleeves of his coat. “Yes, it is a nice day to go to the village.”
You nod, still trying to decipher the reason why he’s here with no notice.
“This- This is a beautiful home,” he notes, bouncing from one foot to another.
It is the most disheveled you have ever seen him.
“Yes, I think so as well. Should I fetch us some tea?”
He immediately shakes his head. “No, no.”
You sit in an unpleasant silence for another few moments before you hear the front door open, signaling Yujin and Yuta’s return.
“Have a good day,” Jeno quickly says, walking swiftly down the hallway and out the cottage, not even bothering to acknowledge Yujin’s presence when he passes by.
Yujin stares incredulously after him, eyes darting over to you.
“What on earth have you done to poor Mr. Lee?”
You shake your head, puzzled by the odd interaction.
“I have no idea.”
—
“There are many conveniences which others may supply and which we cannot procure for ourselves…”
You fight the yawn threatening to come out as Yuta drones on in his sermon. One of the downsides of staying with Yujin and Yuta was the weekly attendance at the local church, where Yuta often read verses for the people. Yujin is always enthralled by her husband’s lectures, but you do not share her level of enthusiasm.
You lean over to whisper to Jisung, who is seated next to you.
“How much longer will you be in town, Mr. Park?”
“As long as my cousin needs,” he answers. “I am at his disposal.”
You scoff, imagining exactly how many people Jeno had at his disposal.
“I wonder why he does not marry so he can bring a woman alongside him instead of dragging you,” you quip.
Jisung laughs quietly. “If he did choose a woman, she would be very lucky. Jeno is a loyal man to both friends and family alike. I heard he recently helped save a friend from an unwise marriage.”
You frown. “Who was the friend?”
“One of his closest companions, Na Jaemin.”
Your features twist into a scowl, and you spot Jeno sitting across the church. Your chest fills with an indescribable rage.
“Did he explain why?” You ask Jisung.
“There were a lot of objections to the lady. I believe her family was not considered to be the right fit for a nobleman of his status.”
You could nearly feel the steam coming out of your ears. So this was the truth — Jeno found your family completely unruly and unfit for his standards and in return, he cut off Jimin’s chance of finding love. All of the pieces click into place and you clench your fists, wondering who gave him the right to dictate the fate of your family.
As soon as the sermon ends, you find the quickest exit, refusing to wait for Yujin and Yuta. You decide you must get back to their cottage to write to Jimin, insisting she come home and end her useless pining after Jaemin.
You gasp when you realize it’s raining, the heavy downpour soaking your dress. You waste no time, running as fast as you can until the church is no longer in sight.
After a mile, you see a nearby gazebo and decide to take shelter there to catch your breath. You place a hand on your chest, staring down at the hem of your dress, which is now covered in mud and dirt.
The call of your name causes you to gasp, and you look up to find the main character of your distress.
Jeno is also completely soaked from head to toe and offers you no time to say a word. “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came here with the sole purpose of seeing you and I must tell you how I am feeling. I am fighting against my family’s expectation and the inferiority of your birth because I am asking you to end my agony.”
You shake your head. “I do not understand-“
“I love you,” he confesses. You freeze, appalled by the revelation. “Most ardently. Please do me the honor by accepting my hand.”
You grit your teeth. “I apologize, Mr. Lee, for having caused you pain since our first meeting. I assure you it was not my intention.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is this your reply?”
“Yes.”
“So it is a rejection?”
“Yes.”
He swallows. “May I ask why you are so quick to voice your refusal?”
You laugh. “Then may I ask why you think it is so brave of you to confess your love for me against your better judgment? I must be so uncouth for you to hold onto your feelings for so long instead of speaking them to me!”
“I did not mean-“
“And I am frankly horrified to think that you believe me to have no dignity that I would accept the hand in marriage of a man who has ruined the fate of my eldest sister, whom I admire with all of my heart!”
His expression falls at the mention of Jimin, and you laugh mockingly at catching his lie.
“Do you deny it, Mr. Lee? Breaking up a young couple in the height of their affection and forcing my sister to question her self-worth?”
“I do not deny it,” he replies sternly.
“What gave you the right-“
“I watched them out of respect for my friend and realized his attachment was deeper than hers,” he explains, but it only causes you to grow angrier.
“She’s shy! She has never been courted so seriously by another man before, especially not one that became so public,” you vouch for her.
He stands his ground. “Jaemin had realized she was not returning his affection with the same amount of passion-“
“Only after you suggested it!”
“I did it for his own good!”
“My sister rarely shows her true feelings to me,” you yell, and Jeno is taken aback. “You will never understand the burden an eldest sister has to face when there are no sons born to the family. You will never understand the weight on her shoulders when Mr. Nakamoto is knocking on the door, waiting to take away what little fortune your family possesses!”
He continues to defend himself. “There was a call into the character of your family and the suggestion of an advantageous marriage-“
You sneer. “How dare you assume Jimin would pursue such a thing!”
“It was not her, but your mother, on the other hand-“
You taunt him. “And what of Lee Donghyuck?”
He narrows his eyes and takes a step closer to you. “Lee Donghyuck?” He speaks the name as if someone poured acid on his tongue.
“What excuse could you possibly conjure of your behavior towards him?”
He purses his lips. “You take a great deal of interest in Donghyuck.”
“How can you defend the misfortunes you have put him in?”
He smiles mockingly. “Ah yes, I’m sure his misfortunes are vast in comparison to mine. I see that this is how you view me — a horrible villain who casts a dark shadow wherever he goes.”
“You are the one who has decided to insult the inferiority of my birth, which is beyond my own control! That arrogance and selfish disdain for the feelings of others is why I believe you are the last man in the world I would ever consider to marry!”
His expression crumbles. It is only now that you recognize how short the proximity between you two has gotten. He seems to have grasped the situation as well, eyes flickering downwards to stare at your lips. You swear that he begins to lean in before he stops himself.
You think you would let him kiss you, despite all signs pointing to it being a bad idea. The desire building in your stomach has you questioning your common sense.
There is no possible way you want Lee Jeno to kiss you, to mark you as his, to marry you in front of all those presumptuous nobles like Lady Park-
“Forgive me for taking up so much of your time.”
He turns and walks away, leaving you panting with a gaping hole in your chest.
—
Days pass before you hear from Jeno.
You contemplate returning home, but Yujin convinces you to stay for a little while longer. You write out a letter to Jimin to tell her everything, but for some reason, you never send it. You fear the gruesome picture you will paint of Jeno and consequently, Jimin’s feelings towards him. You somehow care for your sister’s approval for the rich nobleman although you turned down his proposal.
It’s another dreary night when Jeno shakes the cottage with his presence. You hear his blazing footsteps behind you but you refuse to look at him, staring at the wall in your room with your back turned to him.
He clears his throat. “I came to drop off this.”
You do not know what he has left, ignoring the miniscule part of your brain that screams at you to check.
You speculate on what he looks like — was he wearing that dreary trench coat he likes to walk around in? Was he wearing a mask of contempt at his behavior? Did he really mean what he said? Did he really love you?
“I shall not repeat the confessions that were so insulting to you, but if I may, I will address the two offenses you have laid against me,” he says.
You want to see him. You want to see if he has that stricken expression on his face, if he still has a hint of playfulness hidden in his eyes.
But when you turn around, he is gone. You would believe you had imagined him if not for the letter sitting neatly on the windowsill.
You swallow and open it, eyes scanning over his neat penmanship.
My father loved Donghyuck like a son. After his passing, my father left him a generous living, but Donghyuck made it clear that he would not be taking orders. He gambled away his living within weeks and demanded for more money from me, insisting it was what my father would have wanted. I refused, and he severed all acquaintance thereafter. He returned to us last summer in an attempt to court my sister, Jayoon, and convince her to elope with him. My sister is to inherit half of our estate. When it was made clear Donghyuck would not be receiving a penny of that inheritance, he disappeared once more. I will not try to explain the depth of Jayoon’s despair.
You gasp, eyes shuffling through the ink in disbelief. You could not comprehend the deceit and maliciousness Donghyuck possessed. The man you met was so poised and charismatic, but you suppose all the best con men were.
As for the matter of your sister and Jaemin, though the motives which governed me may to you appear insufficient, they were in the service of a friend.
Yujin’s voice pulls you out of your stupor. She enters your room, carrying a tray of your meal for the night. A worried look crosses her face at the sight of you, and that is when you realize you have started to cry. You wipe the tears falling down your cheeks.
“Are you okay?” Yujin asks, frantically coming over to you.
You hide Jeno’s letter behind your back, clutching onto it for dear life.
“I-I hardly think so.”
She lays her forehead on yours, understanding what you need.
“I believe it’s time for you to return home.”
—
“Honestly, if he passed by me in the street, I would hardly even recognize him.”
You brush off Jimin’s blatant lie and ignore the way she is combing her fingers through her hair as a nervous tick. She frowns at your faint smirk.
“It is true!” She claims, hitting your arm with mischief. “Anyway, what news comes from your visit with Mr. and Mrs. Nakamoto?”
You returned home shortly after Jeno delivered his letter. Yujin was sorrowful to see you go, but she recognized you needed to be with your family, no matter how loud and boisterous they could get. Jimin arrived a day before you, declaring her efforts worthless, much to your mother’s displeasure.
Jimin insists the experience was a pleasant one and that she learned a great many, and you would not dare refute her claims despite the numerous letters you received that say the opposite.
You smile at your sister’s question. “Nothing exciting.”
You had decided to keep the contents of Jeno’s letter for yourself, afraid to admit your blossoming feelings and ignorance at your accusations towards him. Considering Jimin is handling the loss of Jaemin better than expected, you also did not want to burden her with the truth.
The door to the drawing room bursts open and Minji comes parading through, screaming wildly.
“The heavens have truly blessed me!”
You raise an eyebrow at her as she collapses on the lounge, dress flowing across her hips in an improper fashion. Minjeong follows her into the room, looking cross with her hands folded across her chest.
“They are not sending you there because you are a suitable wife, they are sending you there because you are a disgrace to the family!”
“Minjeong!” You scold her, watching as Minji simply laughs at her sister’s insult. “What on earth are you two jabbering about?”
“Father is sending me to live with the Baek family,” Minji divulges, wiggling her feet in excitement.
Jimin stands, outraged by the information. “What? Minji, the Baek family live across town!”
“Yes, and is it not so delightful?” She giggles, ignoring you and Jimin’s worries. “There will be a handful of suitors there at my disposal!”
You and Jimin exchange a knowing glance before heading to your father’s office. He appears to be expecting your arrival, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in anticipation of your anger.
“Father, you cannot send Minji away to the Baek family,” Jimin begins.
You continue. “She will make a fool out of herself and ridicule this family! She needs to be educated properly here, at home.”
Your father sighs. “Girls, you know I have tried with your sister, but she has become too complacent for my teachings. I trust Colonel Baek and his family to educate her about becoming well-behaved.”
“Father!” Jimin yells, utterly displeased. “Minji is not some farm animal you can dispose of as you please! She is part of this family, and her careless behavior is ours to own.”
“You cannot send her away or we might lose her forever.”
Your father shakes his head. “I’m sorry, girls, but my decision has been made. Minji will live with the Baek family and we will pray for success to come her way.”
You both scoff at him, infuriated by his carelessness. You leave his office and travel to the den in the kitchen, where your aunt and uncle are quietly eating. They have decided to stay for a while after dropping off Jimin.
Your aunt calls your name with joy. “Oh, you must join us this time out to the gardens in the district. It would do you well to take in some fresh air.”
You smile politely and take a seat on the bench across from your aunt. Your mind is still whirling at the thought of Minji, all alone, faring for herself at the countryside.
“I am satisfied staying here. I just returned from a trip to see a friend.”
Your uncle waves you off. “Come with us! There are many soldiers stationed in the area and plenty of suitors for your eyes to take in.”
“I have no desire to converse with them, uncle. Men are overtaken by their own arrogance or stupidity, and it would be a waste of my time to entertain them.”
Your aunt laughs mockingly at your pessimistic declaration.
“Well, what a voice of bitterness! My dear, do not allow your opinion of one man to cloud the wonderful soldiers who could bend and worship the ground you walk on,” your aunt advises.
You shake your head in disagreement.
“Men bring nothing but heartache.”
—
Much to your chagrin, your aunt and uncle convince you to travel with them through the district.
You are slightly grateful for their coercion as the breathtaking weather allows you to take a break from your resounding problems, albeit momentarily.
You stop in the middle of the journey as one of the wheels on your carriage is starting to lose its weight, and the coachman requires you to pull over so he can fix it. You lean on one of the nearby trees as your aunt and uncle sit beside you.
“Where exactly are we?” You ask, taking a look at your surroundings, yet all that encompasses you is trees.
“I believe we are close to the Lee estate.”
Your ears perk up. “Lee Jeno?”
“Yes, that’s the fellow,” your uncle murmurs. “I heard his estate is surrounded by a great lake. I have an immense desire to see it for myself.”
“Oh, let’s not,” you immediately object.
Your aunt and uncle turn to you with a raised eyebrow, curious about your swift rejection.
You clear your throat. “I mean, he is awfully busy, I am sure. We would not want to bother him.”
“Do not fret, dear,” your aunt assures. “Great men like him are usually never home.”
You swallow down your further protests, refusing to tell your aunt and uncle the real reason why you cannot see Jeno again.
Once the carriage is fixed, you travel to the Lee estate. As many have vouched, the estate expands beyond your wildest dreams. A large lake covers the entire front yard, with more windows and doors around the house than you could ever conjure up in your mind.
One of the maidens comes out to greet you. Your aunt and uncle are eager to receive a tour and you glance around, picturing the spots where Jeno would walk through, probably dragging that awful trench coat behind him. You giggle at the thought.
“Has something caught your interest, ma’am?” The maiden asks you and you jump, quickly wiping the smile off of your face.
“Oh, no, no. I was simply wondering if Mr. Lee’s sister was home.”
She nods. “Yes, the young girl is likely wrapped up in her piano lesson. You may go search for her while I show your aunt and uncle the gardens if you wish.”
Your aunt touches your arm fondly. “Meet us back at the lodging when you are finished.”
You faintly hear the sound of the piano drift from upstairs, and you follow the noise. You drink in your sights as you go, marveling at the expensive marble columns and gold accents of the house. You ponder over the idea of Jeno choosing the decorations himself.
You finally find the door to one of the drawing rooms, and you open it by a sliver. You catch a glimpse of Jayoon’s long hair with her back turned towards you, her fingers playing a melody as if she had memorized it from birth. You gape at the young girl’s talent.
Your heart beats wildly in your chest when Jeno’s frame comes into view, tapping Jayoon on the shoulder and surprising her. She gasps and jumps into his arms, clearly not expecting his presence.
You make the mistake of moving your foot, which causes the hard flooring to creak beneath your weight. The sound alerts Jeno and his head turns to the entrance of the doorway, where he catches your eye.
You wheeze, quickly spinning around and darting back down the stairs. You must look like a clumsy oaf but you do not care, trying your best at getting as far from the estate as possible. You manage to find yourself outside, but before you can descend down the back entryway, you hear Jeno calling your name.
You squeeze your eyes shut momentarily before slowly facing him.
“I-I apologize, I thought you were out of town.”
He swallows, his once confident stare now filled with nothing but anxiety.
“I came home a day early,” he explains.
He’s wearing that long trench coat again. You wonder if he ever takes it off.
“We wouldn’t have come if we had known you were here-“
“I had some business with my steward-“
You both pause when you realize you’re speaking over one another. His eyes soften at the sight of you.
You avoid his gaze.
“I’m visiting with my aunt and uncle.”
He nods. “And are you having a pleasant trip?”
You blink nervously. “Yes. Tomorrow we are heading to the district before going back home.”
“Tomorrow?” You swear you hear the disappointment in his voice, but it could be a figment of your imagination. “Are you staying nearby?”
You nod and tell him where you’ll be lodging. You place your hand over your chest in an attempt to control your frenzied heartbeat.
“I apologize again for intruding. They said the house was open for visitors and I had no idea you would be home-“
“You’re always welcome here,” he says, his voice filled with honesty. Goosebumps rise on your arms at his frank statement. “Shall I see you into town?”
“No, no,” you object, taking a step back. “I would much prefer to walk. I like to do that — to walk.”
You want to hit yourself over the head. You sound foolish.
Jeno just smiles, laughing to himself. You do not think you have ever seen him this way. Your stomach erupts with butterflies at the sight of his handsome grin.
“Yes, I’m well acquainted with that fact.”
You stare down at your feet, recalling the day you had run nearly three miles in the rain instead of waiting for Yujin and Yuta’s carriage. You’re curious if Jeno had to also run that far just to catch you. Did he catch a cold?
“I shall see myself off then. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.”
You curtsy, refusing to take another glance at him before fleeing the grounds of the estate.
You think about him on your walk back into the village. You envision him as a child, running through the gardens and playing games with the staff. You smile at the thought.
When you find the inn you’ll be staying at for the night, you inform your aunt and uncle of your return before slipping into your room. You decide to freshen up before supper, ridding your mind of any thoughts related to Jeno. You remind yourself that you will likely not see him again, so any of these confusing feelings that are rising need to be squashed.
Your aunt and uncle, however, have a different idea when you join them downstairs.
“My dear, Mr. Lee was just here!”
“What?”
“Yes!” Your uncle is overjoyed. “He invited us to dine with him tomorrow. You don’t mind delaying our journey another day, do you?”
“I-I suppose not.”
An ominous shiver runs down your spine.
—
A lively tune greets you at the Lee estate.
You pause when you see Jayoon playing at the keys with Jeno standing beside the piano to hear her. She stops when she sees you enter the drawing room, jumping up and running over to curtsy before you. She says your name with clear fondness.
You smile and return the curtsy, a little startled by her warmth towards you.
“My sister, Jayoon,” Jeno introduces, walking over. Your breath hitches at his presence.
“My brother has told me so much about you,” Jayoon beams. Your eyes flit to Jeno’s frame, and his head is bowed slightly in embarrassment. “I feel as if we are friends already.”
“It is an honor to finally meet you,” you say. “You play the piano beautifully.”
She bashfully stares down at her feet. “You flatter me so. My brother tells me you’re an exceptional player as well.”
You laugh. “Then he has uttered the most ridiculous lie.”
Jeno chuckles, staring yearningly at you.
“To be fair, I said you were a good player.”
“Ah, well good is not quite exceptional, now is it?”
He smiles at your jest. You both fail to notice how long you have been gazing at one another until Jayoon clears her throat. You divert your eyes and Jeno ignores how red his ears have gotten.
He addresses your aunt and uncle, who are standing behind you.
“I have heard your uncle is fond of fishing.”
“Yes, very much so,” your uncle replies with elation.
“I would be honored if you joined me out on the lake today,” Jeno invites, and your uncle nearly jumps for joy.
“And what about you?” Jayoon asks. “Do you play duets on the piano?”
You chuckle. “Not if I can help it.”
“Oh, brother, you must make her!” Jayoon says playfully.
Jeno looks at you. “She has quite the independent mind, dear sister. I am afraid I cannot make her do anything she does not wish.”
You do not return his stare, fearing you’ll get lost in his eyes.
Jeno and your uncle head to the lake to begin their fishing session while you and your aunt stay with Jayoon to chat and play the piano. You’re in the midst of drinking tea when Jayoon says something that nearly causes you to choke.
“My brother talks of you quite a lot,” Jayoon reveals with a knowing smile. Your aunt’s eyebrow ticks up. “He says you are different from the noblewomen we usually conversate with.”
“Yes, that sounds like something he would say,” you murmur, refusing to peer over at your aunt, who you know has a million questions to bombard you with. “I do not believe your brother chats with many noblewomen to begin with.”
Jayoon giggles. “You would fare on the correct side in relation to that guess. I have desired for him to find a lifelong partner but there has been no one who has peaked his interest until recently.”
You fiddle with your teacup, ignoring Jayoon’s smirk.
Your aunt’s puzzled tone speaks first. “How long has Mr. Lee been acquainted with my niece?”
“A few months only,” you answer before Jayoon can say something else that would embarrass you. “We met when Mr. Na first came into town.”
“Ah yes,” your aunt sighs, very familiar with Jaemin considering Jimin stayed in her home for weeks to capture his attention. “Does Mr. Na come to visit here often, Jayoon?”
She shakes her head. “Not as much lately. I believe he has been preoccupied for most of the season.”
Your aunt grumbles under her breath. You’re pleased by her disdain for Jaemin, understanding how tough this time has been for Jimin.
A maiden suddenly knocks on the door and Jayoon instructs her to enter. She says she has a letter for you and you furrow your eyebrows, taking the envelope from her hands. You recognize Jimin’s handwriting and rip open the letter immediately.
You gasp when you read its contents, placing Jayoon and your aunt on high alert.
“What is it, dear? What’s happened?”
You clutch your chest, heaving. “W-We must return home! At once!”
The two women try to stop you but you sprint out of the house and onto the lake, calling for your uncle with the most desperate voice you can muster. Jeno spots you first, quickly dropping his fishing rod and rushing over to you.
“What’s wrong? Are you injured?”
He clutches your elbows, scanning your figure for any visible wounds. You cannot stop the tears flowing down your face, your mind too overtaken with fear to think about how close Jeno is.
“It’s Minji,” you cry. “S-She has run away! With Lee Donghyuck!”
You crumble and he wraps his arms around you. Your uncle hurriedly comes to your side.
“What? When has this happened?”
“I do not know,” you choke back on your tears as Jeno gently wipes them away. “They do not know where she has gone! She has no money, no connections, no future!”
“This is my fault,” Jeno whispers. “I should have exposed Donghyuck.”
Your uncle gently takes the letter from your fingers, reading the words for himself. You hear Jayoon and your aunt approach, catching their breath from chasing you.
“What is it? What has her so enervated?” Your aunt questions.
Your uncle relays the message, including the part where your father has gone to the Baek family to search for Minji.
Jeno strokes your hair in comfort and you knock back your better judgment, digging your face into the collar of his trench coat.
“We must find Minji as soon as we can,” your aunt gasps. “If the news gets out, the family will be ruined!”
“I will fix it,” Jeno says with conviction.
You shake your head. “You can’t. This is my fault — I should have told my family the truth about Donghyuck or this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Do not blame yourself,” Jeno hisses, cupping his hands over your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. His eyes are filled with steadfast determination. “We will get this sorted.”
“I shall join your father in his search for Minji,” your uncle declares. “Mr. Lee, I ask for your favor in borrowing one of your carriages.”
“Of course,” Jeno agrees. “Jayoon, please show him the way.”
Jayoon casts another glance at you embraced in Jeno’s arms before guiding your uncle away.
“I will ask for our carriage to be prepared to take you home,” your aunt says, also leaving the two of you.
You sniffle, feeling shameful by your appearance in front of Jeno. He stares at you in distress.
“I apologize for my behavior-“
“I wish you would cease asking forgiveness in front of me. You never have to.”
Your breath hitches at his candor. Your bodies are as close to one another as the rainy day he first confessed to you. If you tilt your head forward a few inches, you could plant a kiss on his lips.
You compose yourself and take a step back.
“Mr. Lee, I-I should go.”
“Yes, yes,” he mumbles, clearly taken aback by his own actions. “I hope your family can remedy the situation.”
You turn to leave but he stutters out a request.
“And please, take care of yourself.”
You glance back at him, eyes welled with tears.
“You as well, Mr. Lee.”
—
When you return home, your mother is bedridden and wailing.
You and Jimin gather around her bed as she sobs. “Oh, what shall we do? You are all ruined. Who will wed you now with a fallen sister? And now your poor father will have to go off and fight Lee Donghyuck!”
You and Jimin exchange a glance. Jimin clears her throat.
“Father hasn’t even found Mr. Lee yet, mother.”
Your mother ignores her and continues. “And then Mr. Nakamoto will turn us out when your father is killed! Oh, Minji must know what this will do for my nerves. How can she vex her poor mother like this?”
You decide to head downstairs, agreeing that your mother’s avid concerns would not be subdued any time soon. You frown when you see Minjeong in the kitchen, holding a letter in her hands.
“What have you got there?”
Jimin snatches it out of Minjeong’s grasp and scans it herself. “It’s addressed to father. It’s in uncle’s writing.”
You hear the familiar sound of the carriage pulling up and you all dart outside, frantically waving the letter around.
“Father! Father!”
He groans, taking a step out of the carriage. “Let me get my bearings first.”
“It’s a letter for you! From uncle!” You say, thrusting it into his hands.
He opens it as he walks back to the house, dismissing your frantic jumping to read the contents.
“Well?” Minjeong says impatiently. “What does it say?”
“He’s found them.”
Jimin gasps. “Are they married?”
He squints. “I cannot make out the script-“
You seize it and read it for yourself. Jimin and Minjeong lurk over your shoulder.
“Are they married?” Jimin asks again.
You sigh. “They will be, under the condition that father pays Lee Donghyuck a small sum for Minji per year.”
Minjeong scoffs. “A small sum! How barbaric!”
“Well? Will you pay it, father?” Jimin questions. Minjeong takes the letter from you to read it again.
“Of course I will agree. The matter of the question is how much your uncle has already laid on this wretched man,” your father exhales, walking back into the house sluggishly.
You turn to Jimin. “What does he mean?”
She shrugs. “Uncle must have threatened Mr. Lee wickedly. For the situation, with the three of us still unmarried and the family’s reputation hanging by a thread, Mr. Lee would be foolish to only settle for a small sum.”
You scowl. “Heaven forbid the day we have to welcome that wretched man into the family.”
The day comes sooner than you think. Minji and Donghyuck arrive a few weeks later, with Minji beaming at her newfound status as a married woman. You roll your eyes at her airy nature at the dinner table.
“You must all visit the Baek family soon. That is the place to get husbands! I hope you have half of my good luck.”
Your mother scolds Minjeong for her outburst before turning to Minji with a smile.
“I want to hear every detail, my darling Minji.”
You and Jimin chuckle at your mother’s quick change in heart. She was out of bed and celebrating as soon as you told her the news of Minji getting married.
You exchange a look with Donghyuck across the table, and he appears remorseful. You mock him and laugh.
Minji rattles off the story about the last few weeks with Donghyuck and their wedding. You tell her you do not want to hear it but she ignores you.
“I wondered if my dear Donghyuck would be married in his blue coat, as I love the way he looks in it. And of course, because of the quick ceremony, I worried that uncle would not make it in time to be the best man. Luckily, he arrived on time or else I would’ve had to ask Mr. Lee Jeno but I don’t really like that man.”
You pause. “Lee Jeno?”
Minji gasps and covers her mouth, making sure no one else at the table heard her slip up. “Oh heavens, I forgot. I should not have said a word.”
You prod her further. “Mr. Lee was at your wedding?”
She lowers her voice into a whisper, and you realize she cannot help herself in dishing out the truth.
“He was the one who discovered us. He paid for everything — the wedding ceremony, Donghyuck’s sum, all of my new dresses, everything!” Her elated expression turns serious. “But do not say a word to anyone! He told me not to tell.”
You’re astounded by the secret. “M-Mr. Lee?” You clarify for your own sanity.
She shoots you a sour look. “Quit it!”
You sit back in your chair, feeling as if you need to catch your breath. You cannot believe Jeno went out of his way to save Minji and fix her horrid nuptials to Donghyuck. It’s no wonder that Donghyuck only asked for a small sum from your father as Jeno must have paid the rest.
You digest the information, wondering how it was possible for a man like Lee Jeno to exist and how it was possible that he so clearly loved a girl like you.
—
You hear rumors of Jaemin’s return to town, pushing Jimin to a state of disarray. She insists she does not care about his arrival, but when a local butcher tells you that he comes without a woman by his side, her interest is clearly piqued. You attempt to convince her to locate him, but she still persists she does not care about the origin of his visit.
You are lounging in the drawing room when Minjeong comes bursting through the door.
“He is here! Mr. Na is here!”
Her announcement sends the room into a frenzy, with your mother gasping and shooting out of her chair, nearly tripping over the furniture. Jimin is on her feet, combing her fingers through her hair and straightening her dress. You flee to the window, shocked when you see not only Jaemin approaching, but Jeno walking right beside him.
“Act natural, girls!” Your mother shouts, struggling to stand.
You quickly draw back from the window, hand over your heart. You are not thoroughly prepared to face Jeno again, especially now knowing how far he has gone to ensure your family wasn’t laid to ruin.
Your mother pushes Minjeong down into a seat and shoves some fabric into her hands to make it appear like she’s been embroidering. Jimin cries at you in despair and you help her tie a ribbon around her waist and brush her hair.
Your mother throws you a book and you all hurriedly sit in different areas of the room, looking as natural as you possibly can.
There is a knock on the door before one of your handmaidens enters.
“Mr. Na and Mr. Lee,” she introduces, stepping aside so the men can set foot in.
You all stand, curtsying as they bow. You beg your heart rate to stop thumping in your ears.
Jeno looks so attractive that it makes you want to curl into yourself and scream. He avoids your gaze, and you contemplate if he no longer wants to be with you because of Minji’s incident.
Jaemin opens his mouth to speak, but your mother beats him to it.
“How glad we are to see you again, Mr. Na! I am sure you have heard of my youngest getting married while you were away. We are very proud of her accomplishments.”
Jaemin smiles politely. “Yes, I heard the great news. I offer my congratulations.”
His eyes drift to Jimin’s form, and you see your sister smile timidly at him.
Your mother continues. “It is a shame that Mr. Lee Donghyuck lives so far. Having my youngest taken away at such an early age is no easy feat.”
You interrupt her, hoping to salvage the conversation for Jimin’s sake.
“How long are you in town for, Mr. Na?”
“Just a few weeks for the hunt.”
You forget that now is the best time for hunting season, and many men in town partake in the activity. Your eyes flit once again to Jeno’s form, and you catch him staring at you briefly before he looks away. The butterflies in your stomach will surely make you ill.
“Oh, Mr. Na, you must come here once you get bored of the game in town. My husband would love to oblige you,” your mother invites.
Jaemin’s smile never wavers. “Yes, that sounds splendid. Thank you.”
“How are you, Mr. Lee?” You ask.
You cannot help yourself. You have dreamed about him since you left the estate and he has to take accountability for your sleepless nights.
He momentarily glances at you. “I’m quite well, thank you.”
“I hope the weather is favorable when you go hunting,” you say.
He nods. “I return home tomorrow. I will not be participating in this year’s hunt.”
Your heart drops. “So soon?”
He refuses to look at you again.
“My Jimin looks beautiful, does she not?” Your mother questions Jaemin.
He stutters. “O-Oh yes, she does indeed.”
The room is filled with silence, and while you’re pleading for Jeno to look at you, Jimin is desperately wanting Jaemin to say more.
Jaemin swallows before clearing his throat. “W-Well, we must be going, I think. It was lovely to see you all again.”
“You must come visit,” your mother reminds him. “You promised last time you were in town that you would attend a family dinner.”
Jaemin awkwardly nods before scurrying out of the house. Jeno lingers, looking disappointed.
He bows his head. “Excuse me.”
The request for him to stay lays on the tip of your tongue but he exits before you can ask.
Once the two men are gone, you all collapse back in your seats. You rush to Jimin’s side as your mother voices, “How unusual!”
Your sister seems as optimistic as ever, despite the gloomy look in her eye.
“Perhaps that was for the best,” she hollowly laughs. “Now I will not have to go to bed wondering about my fate. He’s clearly moved on and is no longer interested.”
“Jimin,” you sigh, placing a hand over hers. “You do not have to fabricate your feelings to me. I may also be hiding some truths that I am not content with.”
Her head whips around. “Like what?”
Before you can finally tell her your secret, Minjeong’s voice screeches.
“He is back!”
“What?” Your mother screams, flinging her body at the window.
You catch the billowing of Jaemin’s coat before you’re being hauled up again by your mother. Jaemin enters the room in a more uncoordinated fashion, not even alerting the handmaiden so she can announce his presence. His hair is sticking up in random directions, indicating he was likely running his hands through it nervously.
“I apologize for my abrupt actions, but I would like to request an audience with Jimin if I may.”
All of your mouths drop open. Your mother speaks first.
“Everyone into the kitchen,” she instructs, and you nearly trip when she pushes you forward.
You grab Minjeong’s wrist and tug her with you. Your mother closes the door behind her and all three of you immediately press your ears against it to listen in.
“First, I must tell you that I have been a halfwitted and reckless fool,” you hear Jaemin start to say. You scoff, internally agreeing with him. Minjeong elbows you to be quiet. “And second, I want to atone for the months I have been away. My fair Jimin, I will wrong you no further. Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”
You all gasp.
Moments pass before Jimin’s shaky voice replies, “Yes, a thousand times yes!”
Your mother bursts open the door and screeches in delight.
“My heavens, I never believed the day would come!”
You hurry in to envelope Jimin in a hug and congratulate her. The embrace gives you a direct view of the window, where a stony Lee Jeno stands in a far distance. You hold your breath, hoping he would come inside as well and give his own second version of a proposal. You would not hesitate to accept this time.
However, he merely situates himself there for a few seconds longer before turning away and leaving. You shut your eyes, quelling the ache in your chest and pulling Jimin closer to congratulate her once again.
—
That night, you giggle as you lay in bed with your sister.
“A spring wedding!” She exclaims, and your heart is full at the sight of her happiness. “Oh, he just looked so nervous but he had no idea how my heart was pounding out of my chest, sister. I wish for you to be this happy one day.”
Unlike the way Minji declared it to demean you, Jimin says it with pure virtue.
You fake a smile, thinking about how you screwed up your chances of ever being with Jeno.
“Maybe Mr. Nakamoto has a friend.”
She bursts into laughter at your joke and you pretend to share her joy. Your satisfaction, however, is broken by the sound of a carriage pulling up outside.
You frown. “Do you hear that?”
It was already well past midnight, so if a visitor was approaching, it must have been with urgent news. You and Jimin hop out of bed and rush downstairs, where the rest of your family is also starting to gather.
There’s a knock at the door and your father wobbles over to answer it.
You gasp when you see who is behind it.
“L-Lady Park?”
The woman shuffles in haggardly, and you all curtsy and bow at her presence. She looks disturbed, mouth twisted into an angry frown.
Your father awkwardly talks first. “May I offer you a cup of tea, madam?”
“Absolutely not. I need to speak with your second oldest alone.”
All eyes turn to you. You swallow and step forward, gesturing to the drawing room and leading Lady Park inside. You shut the door, placing a candle on a nearby table to provide you some semblance of sight.
Your palms sweat at the thought of what Lady Park had to confront you with. Perhaps you should not have messed around with Jimin — maybe Lady Park really was here to marry you off to one of Mr. Nakamoto’s friends.
“I am sure you are not puzzled by the reasoning behind my visit.”
You blink. “You are mistaken, ma’am. I cannot conjure up why you have honored my family here tonight by your presence.”
She scowls. “I warn you, dear girl, I am not one to be trifled with. A message has reached me that my nephew, Mr. Lee, has intended to unite you in the union of marriage.” You freeze, your mind running through a myriad of scenarios. “I know this to be a scandalous falsehood, so I instantly traveled here to make my sentiments known.”
You narrow your eyes at her degrading tone. “If you had thought the rumor so impossible, I ponder why you decided to travel so far.”
She steps forward, her scowl transforming into an expression filled with more hatred.
“I came to hear it be contradicted.”
“Your appearance will only serve as a confirmation if indeed such a report exists,” you say.
“If?” She spits out bitterly. “Are you meaning to pretend to not know of it? Were you not the one who started such a malicious lie to bring down the reputation of my dear nephew?”
“I have never heard of it!” You defend yourself.
“So my nephew has not made you an offer of marriage?”
You raise your head high. “You are the one who has declared such a thing to be impossible.”
You can practically see her shake with rage. “Mr. Lee has been engaged to my daughter since their infancy. Now what have you to say?”
“If that is the case, then there is no reason Mr. Lee would make an offer to me.”
“You listen to me, you selfish girl — if you think a woman of inferior birth with a scandalous sister who married the first suitor she came across can come in and tarnish Mr. Lee’s reputation, I will surely prove you wrong. Now tell me the truth, are you engaged to him?”
You contain yourself. “I am not.”
“And do you promise to never enter such an engagement?”
You put your foot down. You refuse to allow this woman to come into your home, insult you, and forbid you from marrying the man you know you yearn for.
“I shall never promise such a thing. You have traveled here in the dead of night to offend me in every possible way and I will tolerate it no longer. I must ask you to leave.”
You swing open the door, exposing your entire family on the opposite side of it, who were likely listening in on your ordeal. Lady Park gives you one last glance, and if looks could kill, you would be six feet underground.
“I have never been so disrespected in my entire life!” Lady Park declares before taking her leave, shutting the front door with great force.
“My dear, what is going on?”
“Why does she think something is happening between you and Mr. Lee?”
“Did Mr. Lee propose to you?”
You flee from your family’s questioning, running up the stairs with tears in your eyes.
“For once in your life, leave me alone!”
—
It is the break of dawn when you decide to take a walk.
You could not sleep all night. Jimin slipped into your bed at one point and comforted you wordlessly, wrapping her arms around you. You thought about Jeno and Lady Park’s scornful words. If you had a little less dignity, you would have told her how her nephew proposed to you but in all your stupidity, you denied him. She would probably get a laugh out of that.
You stare down at your feet, kicking around the patches of weeds childishly. Your breath hitches when another pair of shoes land before you.
You raise your head to see Lee Jeno standing there in all of his glory.
You say the first thing that comes to mind.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Nor I.”
You nod, pulling your jacket tighter around your shoulders. “Your aunt was here-“
“I should make amends for such insolent behavior.”
You shake your head. “After everything you have done to save Minji and I suspect to help Jimin, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior.”
“I told you that you never have to apologize to me, didn’t I? You must know I did all of it for you.” He says, smiling. You wonder if you could ever be this infatuated with another human being. “I came here because I beg you not to trifle with me. My aunt’s visit has provided me hope — a feeling I thought had disappeared months ago. I plead with you to tell me if your affections have changed.”
He takes a step closer to you. His eyes melt with a familiar fondness.
“If they have changed, I must tell you that you have bewitched me, body and soul. I love you, and I wish to never be parted from you from this day forth.”
You can no longer hold back your grin. You close the distance, gently tugging on the lapels of his dreary trench coat. You press your lips to his and his control officially snaps, one hand wrapping around your middle and tugging you closer. He kisses you with fervor, as if it is the last thing on earth he will ever get to do.
You giggle and pull back to catch your breath.
“Tell me, please,” he whispers with desperation. “I can bear it no longer.”
“I love you,” you say, stroking your fingers through his hair. “I love, love, love you.”
He kisses you again, hand traveling to the back of your neck and pulling you as close as humanly possible. He kisses you like he is afraid that you will slip out of his grasp. Warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach at his obvious desire.
“W-We should speak to my father,” you pant against his mouth.
“Yes, yes,” he agrees, catching his own breath. “A spring wedding? Or we could get married now, I have no objection-“
You giggle. “Mr. Lee, don’t get too ahead of yourself.”
“I cannot help it. I have waited too long for you to be in my embrace.”
“Then we shall not wait a second longer.”
—
You marry Lee Jeno on a beautiful day in spring.
The ceremony is simple at your request, and your mother cries when you walk down the aisle. Yujin sobs when she sees you in a veil, joyful that you have finally found your happy ending.
Your father was initially confused when you came to his office hand in hand with your betrothed until you explained to him the true nature of your feelings and all of the actions Jeno had taken to save your family. Jimin and Minjeong demanded to know all of the details you kept from them, and Minji even traveled into town to also hear your side of events.
Jeno has the wedding planned faster than you can blink, stressing that he cannot endure another day without you as his wife.
You have awoken something primal in him, and it shows on your wedding night.
He nearly breaks open the bedroom door as he pushes you in, shutting it loudly and practically throwing you on the bed. You laugh when he hovers over you, pressing kisses down your neck.
“Jeno, Jeno,” you hum, smiling as he tugs your wedding dress up. “Slow down, my love.”
“I want to taste you,” he groans against your collarbone.
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You have only heard stories about what happens between a husband and his wife in their bedroom. They were usually filled with salacious recountings from many of the schoolgirls around you growing up. You honestly have no idea what you’re in for tonight, but all you know is that you would let Jeno take you at his heart’s desire.
“Too many buttons,” he grumbles against your chest, and you gasp when he rips your dress clean down the middle.
“Jeno!” You begin to scold but it turns into a moan when his lips latch onto your left breast, tongue flicking at your nipple lewdly.
“You’re mine, are you not? My wife, my forever,” he mumbles, kissing down your stomach until he is face to face with your core.
You tense at the sight of him being so close to an intimate part of your body. He senses your nerves, looking up at you and interlacing his hands with yours.
“It is quite alright, Mrs. Lee,” he smirks at your new surname. “You can trust me.”
You take a deep breath and relax. “I trust you.”
The first swipe of his tongue against your core takes your breath away. Your spine arches at the exhilarating feeling. He moves your hand until it is resting on his hair, urging you to pull at the strands as you please.
He laps at your folds eagerly, lips mouthing over you passionately. You cry when he suddenly takes your clit in his mouth and sucks hard.
He unlocks a new type of pleasure you never believed was possible — tremors running down your body as you chase the high. You fail to realize your hips are moving on their own accord, twisting and riding his face.
When the pleasure begins to subside, Jeno pulls away and lets you catch your breath.
“What was that?” You wheeze.
He chuckles, hoisting himself up to kiss you. He trails kisses across your cheek.
“Did it feel good, my pearl?”
“I-I need to feel that again.”
His laughter is like music to your ears. He nuzzles his face into your neck.
“Would you like me to show you how much better I can make you feel?”
You nod and he raises his head to see you. “I love you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you again.
Since the day you confessed your feelings, he hasn’t failed to remind you of his love nearly every hour of every day.
“When this is over, will I bear your child?” You ask, genuinely curious about the answer.
He strokes your hair gently. “Is that something you want?”
You laugh and bob your head. “Of course. We simply cannot live in this grand house by ourselves. I fear I will go hysterical.”
“Then we will have as many children as you like, Mrs. Lee.”
He begins to undress and you eye him as respectfully as you can. You wish you had known Jeno was hiding his muscular glory underneath those boring trench coats. You likely would not have rejected him the first time if you were made aware.
“Please resist drooling.”
You narrow your eyes playfully. “You’re my husband. I may drool as I please.”
He grins and throws his coat and shirt to the side, slowly unbuttoning his pants. Your mouth waters when he finally takes off his undergarments.
His cock is beautiful, if you’re even allowed to say that. Pretty and pink and long. A bit of liquid leaks from the tip and you suddenly get a craving to taste it.
“We have all the time for you to do that later. I want to show you a good time now,” he says as if he can read your mind.
You smile and pull him close, pressing your lips together. You watch as he gives his cock a few tugs before lining it up to your entrance.
“This may hurt at first, but I promise it will feel satisfactory if you loosen your body,” he says, ensuring that you are listening carefully.
You nod, happy twinkle never disappearing from your eyes.
“I trust you.”
The first thrust is painful. You exhale, focusing on not tensing up your body too much as Jeno instructed. He soothes you, fingers running up and down your sides lightly.
“You are so perfect for me,” he hums. “I should have married you sooner.”
When he’s finally all the way inside, you take a deep breath. He rests his forehead on yours.
“Good?”
You stroke his cheek fondly. “Good, my love.”
He rolls his hips into yours and you groan. He picks up a steady beat until the furrow in your brow vanishes. A wave of pleasure shoots up your spine and you gasp, triggering Jeno to pick up his pace.
He grips the headboard tightly between his fingers, planting his knees on the mattress before driving into you.
“O-Oh!” You moan, not anticipating how intoxicating this would feel.
You raise your hips and subconsciously move to meet his thrusts. He groans at your effort, slowly losing it at how tight you feel around him.
“Here,” he says, moving one hand downwards to pinch your clit and roll it between his fingers.
“Ungh,” you wail, throwing your head back. “That’s so good, Jeno. Keep going.”
Vulgar sounds fill the bedroom with skin slapping skin and your moans mixed with his grunts. You probably look maniacal with the way you’re desperately chasing your high, but you have no care in the world right now.
Your mind is merely screaming Jeno’s name.
He collapses back on you, kissing you with an intensity you could not describe. You swear you see stars explode behind your eyes.
“May I try something?” He pants into your mouth.
You agree and he withdraws himself from you, nearly causing you to whimper at the loss. He grabs your hips and twists you around, taking off the scraps of your dress and flinging it to the floor. His hand pushes down your head and arches your back. You turn your head to the side and moan.
“Please, Jeno, please-“
He eases himself back inside, answering your pleas.
He breathes heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “You are torturing me beyond no end.”
This position hits a different spot inside of you. You mewl, clawing at the sheets. You have never felt closer to Jeno until this moment with the way his cock fits so perfectly inside of you.
He leans down to press kisses to your shoulders.
“May I use you as I wish?”
The question almost has you whining.
“Whatever you like, my love. Please, use me for your pleasure.”
He drills into you, forcing his cock into your dripping hole until you weep for him. You bury your face into his pillow, preventing your screams from growing too loud when you ultimately fall into your second climax. It hits a lot harder than the first, especially since Jeno shows no signs of stopping.
You cry when he changes positions again, falling to his side and moving you to do the same, hiking up your leg until it’s wrapped around his hip. He angles himself so that he hits you deeper.
You wonder if you look like a woman vexed, completely overtaken by lust. He pounds into you to coax your third orgasm to come to bay.
You beg for him, unsure of what you’re pleading for.
“Please, please, please-“
His hand strikes at your clit, slapping it with an unexpected force. You dive headfirst into your peak, crying and whimpering until your throat is sore.
Your body tries to squirm away from Jeno’s sharp thrusts but he doesn’t let you, holding you down and turning you so that your stomach presses against the mattress again.
His cock beats into your soaking cunt before he reaches his own high, groaning loudly as he spills his seed deep into you. It is only then that he finally slows down, collapsing onto the bed and pulling you into his arms.
You both pant, trying to catch your breath as his cum leaks down your thighs.
summary: you and mark were complete different. you were way out of his league and he was way off than what you expected to be a heartthrob. yet fate tied you together.
pairing: fuckboy mark x rich reader.
genre: romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn.
warnings: mark has tattoos because he’s hot shit, sexually suggestive activities in public, language, alcohol addiction, unprotected sex (be safe!), oral sex, semi-public blowjob, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, slut shaming, spanking, bondage.
You’d been told that love and hate are the same feelings experienced under different circumstances. The passion was the same, the hurt was the same. The odd thing that bubbled inside your chest. Same. You didn’t understand it personally until you met Mark Lee and he became your nightmare.
The nightmare then became your reality and worse, your addiction.
You thought you could escape him, only if you could bring yourself to stop looking at his direction but somehow, he hit you harder every time you fought back against him.
my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait)
❝ look, i accidentally summoned jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the olive garden. ❞
PAIRING ▸ demon!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, angst, supernatural, demon au
WARNINGS ▸ not so biblically accurate, profanity, slowburn, found family, inspirations from mythology and h. p. lovecraft, lots of banter, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, palming, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mc is painfully horny, ft. demon!shua and demon!wonwoo
SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn’t get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you’re tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called “guardian demon” back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.
PLAYLIST ▸ our dawn is hotter than day by seventeen • cruel summer by taylor swift
WORD COUNT ▸ 23,610 words
TAG LIST ▸ @byunfirstlady @90s-belladonna @knucklesdeepmingi @xlovette @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hatesbutlovespeople7734 @goquokka
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i had so much fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy this one!! thank you so much for supporting my works ♡ lmk what u think!
TO BE FAIR, YOU REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE SPELL TO WORK.
You initially thought the scrap of paper you found in your statistics textbook was someone’s torn-up Latin homework. You borrowed the copy from the library earlier in the day, realizing that the only way you would pass your midterm would be if you actually studied. Wedged between the pages of Chapter Three - Linear Regression was the dubious piece of paper.
You thought nothing of it at first. You turned a blind eye to how it was yellowed due to age, thinking it was just left behind by accident. It didn’t even cross your mind about how strange it was that someone left their Latin homework in a statistics textbook.
There was no real reason why you read the words aloud. You thought it could act as some sort of good luck charm—something that could manifest good grades on your exams—but you ended up with the exact opposite.
The paper started glowing, but it wasn’t bright light; a void of pitch darkness emitted from the scrap instead. Mind you, it was nearly the middle of the night. It was already dark, but your room was starting to look like you had opened up a schism in space.
You dropped the paper in the middle of the room instinctively, hissing lightly at how it nearly froze your fingers off. Your room’s temperature dropped by several degrees, and if you weren’t internally freaking out about the random black hole in the middle of your room, you would have curled up in your blankets.
This was one hell of a karmic retribution for slacking on your work for half the semester.
♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor || ⸙ On hold ||
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Love café ♡ ୨୧ ★✦ -> @chocosvt
synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.
synopsis: Minghao impulsively adopts a hybrid for you and you hate him for it. But after getting to know your new hybrid, you realized it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. You’ve gained a new friend, a companion and… perhaps more?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ illicit whispers ♡★ -> @httphannie
summary: yoon jeonghan's wanted in almost every country but there's no denying that he's handsome so should it come as a surprise when you end up in his prison cell?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ KIDULT ♡✹୨୧ -> @hvae
synopsis: jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The selfish dilemma ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @joonsytip
Synopsis: It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ How to give a blowjob for dummies ♡୨୧★ -> @multiland
summary: your friendship with Jeonghan takes a turn the day the two of you cross the line when he decides to teach you how to give a blowjob, despite your promises of everything staying the same. Tired of waiting for him to acknowledge the elephant in the room, you decide to go on dates. Needless to say, he doesn't like it one bit.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ In her shadow ♡୨୧★⌗✹ -> @hoshzone
summary: you never were the one to fall in love but, just when you think you might’ve found the one, he turns out to be your estranged bitch of a sister’s fiancé. you and jeonghan both know better but, he can’t help but wish he’d met you first, thinking you’re a far better match for him than she’d ever be. #trusttheprocessordon’t…
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Little miss naughty ♡★ -> @hoshzone
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Holidate ♡୨୧★ -> @onlymingyus
synopsis: It's only for a week, he's doing you a favor, and he's your fake boyfriend. Why do you have to keep reminding yourself of that?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fall back down to earth with you ♡୨୧ -> @97-liners
Synopsis: in which your manager, jeonghan, thinks it’ll be good publicity for you to date hollywood actor and notable heartthrob, joshua hong. of course, everything would be nice and easy if you ended up falling in love with your fake boyfriend joshua, but life is complicated, and your heart ends up pulling you in another direction completely.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cigarettes and coffee ♡★୨୧ -> @gyukult
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Responsibly irresponsible: white shoes ♡୨୧ -> @twogyuu
Synopsis: Seemingly exciting at first, Jeonghan slowly comes to realize that being a dad is more than meets the eye, especially when he meets your mother (unexpectedly) for the first time. Did you mention? She doesn't know you're pregnant.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Inflection point ♡★୨୧ -> @lovelyhan
summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ It's nice to have a friend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi
You and Jeonghan have embarked on your fifth annual Best Friends trip, but it's a bit different than usual, considering he made the reservation under Yoon Y/N and told them he was your husband.
What's a honeymoon between friends anyway?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Sweater paws ♡★ -> @duhnova
synopsis: your soft and cuddly virgin boyfriend isn’t so soft and innocent when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a wet dream
[ More Jeonghan fic recs will be updated. So do check this post once in a while ;) ]
