❝ i don’t care if she has a pretty face; if this is your first night at fight club, you have to fight.❞
PAIRING ▸ lee jeno x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, fight club au, rich kid au, college au, strangers to lovers
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, violent themes (fighting), mentions of blood, 7dream are all part of the fight club, ft. best friends karina and sungchan, sneaking around, fingering, strength/size kink, oral (fem. receiving), choking, sex ofc, lowkey corruption kink, also i swear jeno is soft
SUMMARY ▸ after park jisung introduces you to his shady after-school activity, you realize it’s far too dangerous to be involved with the underground fight club in any way. their members are rough around the edges—except for lee jeno, who keeps you coming back for more.
PLAYLIST ▸ atm by j. cole • baby don’t stop by nct u • new axis by nct u • nate growing up by labyrinth
WORD COUNT ▸ 11,914 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ WOOO ITS FINALLY OUT i hope you guys like it and lmk what u think !! ♡ remember when this was supposed to be 5k words LOL + another note and the tag list is at the bottom (sorry i forgot to respond to yall in the comments but i think i got everyone!) and thank you again for all the love :’)
THIS WAS A BAD IDEA.
In fact, this was a terrible idea.
Jisung didn’t seem to think too much of it, but you felt completely out-of-place among the crowd of sweaty males. It wasn’t like you were left in the dark about your best friend’s hobbies, but you didn’t expect to see him beating up a bulkier man in a dingy, low-light warehouse.
It was hard to wrap your head around the shocking realization that Park Jisung was a good fighter. He was soft-spoken and gentle most of the time, so seeing your best friend punching another man with all his might was throwing you off. Jisung didn’t look like much compared to the other man, but he was swift enough to pin the man down and twist his arm at a dangerous angle behind his back.
“Alright, ‘Sung,” someone called when it was clear Jisung’s opponent wasn’t getting up. “I think it’s safe to say he tapped out.”
Another scoffed in response. “Did he say that, Jaemin?”
“He’s practically gone limp, Chenle. Just call it already,” Jaemin responded flatly.
SYNOPSIS. In theory, playing a card game called Risk It or Drink It during your holiday kickback sounded fun. In reality, it was your group’s wild plot scheme for you and your close friend, Donghyuck, to finally get yourselves together in more ways than one.
PAIRING. Lee Donghyuck x fem!Reader
WORD COUNT. 14.4k
GENRE. Friends-to-Lovers!AU, Holiday!AU, Christmas!AU, Party!AU, mutual pining, smut (minors dni!), comedy/humor, a tiny bit of fluff
WARNINGS. language (crude sexual jokes, talks about sex positions, and profanities), alcohol and food consumption, adult drinking games with dares, haechan is heavy on consent, body shots, brief vouyerism, explicit content (needy!haechan, possessive!haechan, fingering, oral–male and female receiving, nipple play, praise kink, penetrative, missionary, etc.), nicknames (hers: princess, baby | his: baby)
PLAYLIST. Up to You - PRETTYMUCH feat. NCT Dream | Look at Me - George | A Nonsesne Christmas - Sabrina Carpenter | santa doesn’t know you like i do - Sabrina Carpenter | Yours (Live feat. Winter and Mark) - Chanyeol and Raiden
To you, the boys refer to your group of best friends formed early in your college years. The bond strengthened even after graduation. Two years after leaving your university adventures behind, your Saturday nights still belonged to your small close knit group. What started as dressing up in your best clothes and club hopping hours into the night turned into wearing comfy clothes and hosting weekly kickbacks in your respective apartments. You exchanged drunkenly shouting over loud music with drunkenly shouting over party games. Sometimes, you drink and others, you abstain from consuming alcohol to just bask in your hilarious company.
As you grew older, the clubbing and party scene seemed too exhausting with your nine-to-fives taking up most of your energy. Why would you want to socialize with stupid drunk strangers in a crowded room when you could just do that with your tight circle of friends?
Donghyuck and Mark hosted the kickback at their place this week–this one a little fancier than others due to it being the Saturday before Christmas. You loved it when they did. It gave you the excuse to drink to your heart’s content, knowing you could just crash in Donghyuck’s bed at the end of the night. You never did drink past your limit though–too afraid of your darkest secrets slipping through your loose lips–secrets only Jaemin and his girlfriend Ari knew.
Ari was a great secret keeper. She never revealed your secret crush on Donghyuck to her lover. You did that yourself one semester when you bursted into her room, complaining about how attractive your best friend looked in his leather jacket to the point of wanting to kiss his pretty confident smirk off his face. Jaemin heard it all while waiting for his girlfriend to get out of the shower. But as loyal as a friend could be, he kept the slip to your tiny little trio. That, however, did not stop the occasional teasing that happened here and there in full group settings.
It seemed like Jaemin and Ari always had something up their sleeves when you found yourselves hanging out with them and Donghyuck. They would find tiny little ways to get you and your crush in positions where you had no choice but to be near him. For example, setting up days where the hang outs seemed more like double dates and then pretending to get lost just to guarantee you some alone time with him. Their plans, though obvious to you, worked in many ways. Jaemin and Ari often returned to you with matching grins on their pretty faces when they saw your hands linked together or with Donghyuck’s arm comfortably draped around your shoulder, his free hand carrying your purse.
You honestly weren’t sure how Donghyuck never caught on to their schemes.
Maybe he did but refused to say anything on the topic.
Nevertheless, the devil worked hard but Ari and Jaemin worked even harder.
Although you asked the two to stop fueling the delusions floating in your mind, they insisted Donghyuck liked you too. “His feelings for you were undeniable,” they said, “just look at the way he treated you versus everyone else.”
Your best friend—with his gentle touches, sweet smiles, and teasing tones—dropped anything for you. He’d walk you to class even if his classes were on the other side of campus, protect you from creeps that gave you the ick, and have food delivered to your job when you had a rough day. When your dates with men went awry, Donghyuck arrived in seconds. According to the couple, the possibilities were endless for Donghyuck but only when it came to you. And tonight, apparently, was going to show you how endless the possibilities were.
You were a bit sad Mark was missing out on this round of drinking at his place but as Jaemin slammed the box of cards down on the dining table, maybe it was for the best that the eldest of the group missed it. He’d miss the chaos happening at his apartment but at least, he’d earn money while doing it.
Stealing a quick glance at Donghyuck, he looked so cute in his oversized knit sweater. The Santa hat resting on top of his long, wavy hair made him appear cozier than usual. Your outfits coincidentally matched–your sweaters in a similar shade and a Santa hat headband resting on top of your scalp.
“Alright, bitches,” Jaemin smirked while opening the box, “tonight’s game is called Risk It or Drink It. You better not be pussies now.” You missed the gamemaster giving Donghyuck a pointed look as you handed out Ari’s soju cocktails to all the people in attendance. Donghyuck stealthily flipped him off.
“He means you, babes,” Ari nudged you as she poured the two of you a shot. “We’re doing this for you.”
You grabbed it, the liquid spilling from the top, as you raised it for a toast. “No shit, Sherlock.”
Ari striked her glass with yours, “Well, Watson. Bottom’s up.”
“Merry fucking Christmas!” The two of you downed the shot, not wincing in the slightest. The dangerous thing about flavored soju was that it tasted sweet, didn’t burn, and snuck up on you when you least expected it.
Everyone gathered around the kitchen island, some choosing to stand or lean against the countertop, while others took a seat on the barstools. You all watched as Jaemin set the game up with ease, placing a thick stack of cards in the middle of the table.
“The rules are simple. We all take turns getting a card, reading it out loud, and doing what the card says, which is either doing a dare or answering a question. If you can do it, you earn the points at the bottom of the card and keep the card. If you can’t, take a shot or a swig of your drink. First to ten points wins. The player with the least point drinks out of”–the gamemaster pointed to a disgusting concoction next to the cards–“finishes the king’s cup. Got it?”
A chorus of agreement circled around the room and so the game began.
The first round was an easy one. You suspected the deck wasn’t shuffled well enough.
Jeno’s card asked him to show off how much money was in his account, causing Yeri to jokingly ask him if he needed a sugar baby. He retaliated by telling her to ask Mark when he came home, making her take a big swig of her cocktail to draw attention away from her reddening face. Giselle had to name the worst dressed in the room, which led to Renjun’s cute outburst. Jaemin faked a proposal to his girlfriend and had to chug his drink when she said “no.”
It was all fun and games until it came to you. That was when the party truly began.
You drew your card, skimmed through the words silently with a puzzled look, and then made a face. On your right, Donghyuck threw his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to his side. He looked at the card as well, his face slightly dropping as he processed the task.
“What does it say?” Karina yelled from the other side of the circle.
Clearing your throat, you read aloud, “Lick the person on your left’s earlobe for five seconds or drink.”
Jaemin was to the left of you and as much as you thought your friend was attractive, no amount of drinks in the world would result in you doing that.
“Damn, if only it said person to your right,” Jaemin whistled, reaching over to pat Donghyuck’s knee. Then, a mischievous glint in his eye appeared. “Hey, Donghyuck! Wanna switch sides for this card?”
“Jaem, what the fuck?!”
Donghyuck immediately shot up and the rest of the group hollered at the suggestion, urging him to move. Shoving Jaemin aside, your best friend beamed at you. He made a show out of it, pretending to tuck strands of his hair behind his ear. “Ready when you are, Princess.”
You shoved his side at his flirty tactics, quickly looking away from the pair of eyes you couldn’t resist. “You would be the type to like this shit,” you attempted to play off, ignoring the increasing heartbeats the more he looked at you.
“I’m into anything as long as you’re the one doing it,” he threw back, quickly placing a kiss right next to your earlobe. You inhaled sharply at the touch. You could almost feel the smirk spreading across his lips as he pulled away.
The screams that followed that line reminded you that you were not alone–you were in a room filled with people that you loved and were now watching you grow even more flustered than you already were. Heaven knows you were not drunk enough for this. Shaking your head out of the thoughts that followed Donghyuck’s words, you reached for your glass and said, “I’m drinking.”
Vocalized disappointment circled around the room and you ignored it, taking three large gulps of your cocktail. You slammed the glass down and felt the alcohol run through your body. If the dares were anything like that one, it would take you a lot more to actually do something.
Donghyuck didn’t vocalize anything after your choice was made but you did catch his smirk drop the second your lips touched the rim of your glass. The large hand he had around your waist acted as a sign for you to put your drink down. Without words, he placed an opened water bottle in front of you and gestured to it with his chin–he wanted you to take a sip. You did as you were told as the second round of dares continued.
You all had trouble holding in your laughter when Karina called a friend, put them on speakerphone, and asked them to pick her up from the station after being detained for having car sex in a public area. The cackles were harder to contain when the friend pressed for details instead of immediately coming to her aid. When the insistence failed to cease, Karina spit out the first name that came to her head and ended up unmasking the flame she carried for Jeno. You grinned at the unfolding, taking note of how Jeno’s body perked up the minute Karina’s friend screamed, “Finally!”
Ari confidently revealed her body count, Yeri had to endure being tickled by everyone for thirty seconds, and Renjun took two shots instead of calling his ex-girlfriend.
“List three sex positions in ten seconds or drink,” Donghyuck read his card aloud. Before he could even process the task, the group started counting down, adding pressure onto the boy. “Oh shit! Umm, missionary, doggy–oh what the fuck, what else is there?!”
His time was up before he could think of a third and Giselle shoved a shot in his hand. “You better drink, Hyuck!”
Donghyuck accepted his fate, groaning after he took the shot. As he nuzzled his head into your neck, you could tell he was disappointed at his failure.
“Aww, baby, couldn’t think fast enough with your little pea brain?” you teased, running your fingers through his messy hair.
He looked up at you with a playful sneer and pursed his lips. “Like you could do any better in ten seconds.”
Looking Donghyuck dead in the eye, you listed three off the bat with a deadpan face, “Cowgirl, 69, doggy. It’s not that hard, Hyuckie.”
With no other context, your best friend dropped his head back into place and said, “You will be the death of me one day, you know that, right?” His plush lips, now wet with the remnants of alcohol, brushed against the junction of your neck and exposed shoulder. The sudden touch made you shiver.
“And why’s that?”
Donghyuk breathed out, the air making goosebumps appear on your skin, and deflected the question. “It’s your turn. Draw.”
The moment you pulled the card, Donghyuck shifted his head to read the card with you. His body began to shake with laughter as the rest of your crew rushed you to reveal the dare.
God, you were not drunk enough for this. He grabbed the paper out of your fingers and took the liberties of saying the dare, “Hold a piece of food in your mouth and have the person on your right,” he paused, grazing his soft fingers on your bare knee, “that’s me, princess—”
“Yes, I know my rights from lefts, Hyuck.”
“—and have them take it from you.”
“I’m picking the piece of food you use and don’t you dare complain!” Ari yelled before anyone else could claim the job.
Everyone watched as she stifled through a plate of French fries. Her playful grin expanded across her pretty face when she found the perfect fry—a thin, crispy piece that was around an inch long. The group exploded with excitement as she held it up.
“That,” you pointed to the fry in your friend’s hand, “cannot be legal. That has to be against the rules!”
Jaemin pretended to examine the fry his girlfriend was holding. “Hmm, looks fine to me.”
“You’re a menace, Jaem,” you hissed at him.
Jaemin came right back, “Just doing what has to be done to take us out of our misery.”
“What misery?!”
With everything already set, you resigned to your friend’s wishes and begrudgingly accepted the dare. Ari handed you the tiny piece of food. You sighed dramatically before placing it between your teeth. It barely extended past your top and bottom lip. Shooting Donghyuck a widened look, you told him to hurry. If you were to prolong this dare any longer, you were afraid of the fry breaking before he’d get to it.
You stood still as Donghyuck approached with a smug look. It disappeared as soon as his eyes dropped to the french fry you held, lingering at the sight of your parted mouth. When he looked back up at you, there was a sort of look in the brown irises you were so attracted to. Hunger. Anticipation.
“Lean in,” someone shouted but your body froze in its place.
Swallowing back your nervousness, his two warm hands touched your face, both molding to your cheeks. Shutting your eyes as he grew closer, the last thing you saw was his handsome face tilting to get a better angle. Donghyuck’s actions were lightning quick and sudden, making your heart beat skyrocket towards the moon.
His breath tickled your skin and then, his lips brushed ever so gently against yours. It didn’t last too long; after all, his goal was to retrieve the french fry. You did your best to focus on that, remembering not to bite down to break the crunchy strip of food–the task at hand was hard but not impossible.
Then, there was a slight pressure, the plushness of his lips pushing into you as Donghyuck bit, tugging the food out of your mouth.
Still frozen in your spot, you sensed Donghyuck pulling back. You exhaled through your nostrils and slowly opened your eyes. Your best friend was right in front of you, wearing a smirk as he chewed on the fry. He licked around his mouth, gathering the tiny dusts of salt before humming.
“Salty,” was all he said while everyone surrounding you laughed at his antics.
Ignoring the hammering of your heart as he continued to stare at your lips, you cleared your throat. As much as you tried to shove all feelings of attraction aside, Donghyuck kept his sultry gaze fixated on you. You watched as it dipped back down to your lips again, his fingers coming up to brush away the little specks of salt that stuck your mouth.
Everything was too much for you–the warmth of his touch, the intensity of his stare, the looks the others were giving you–it was time to direct everyone’s attention elsewhere.
“Next dare,” you called out, facing away from Donghyuck.
You did the honors of drawing the card for the next person, reading it out loud and keeping the game going. Despite everyone else’s attention following your distraction, you could still detect your crush’s unwavering stare from your side. You were hyper-aware of his arm circling your waist, tugging you closer to his body heat, and the way his palm curved so perfectly into your side. It sent tingles down your spine, goosebumps forming in your flesh, and heat rising up from the tips of your extremities to the middle of your body.
Looking at the depleting stack as the game continued, you thought it couldn’t get any worse than this. Turns out, you were dead wrong.
Donghyuck plucked the next card at the top of the deck, read it to himself, and let out a low chuckle. Squeezing your side, fingers tickling the sliver of exposed skin, he said, “Looks like it’s you and me again, Princess.”
The reaction kept the group of friends on the edge of their seats, curiosity getting the better of them. “Read it!” Giselle yelled from the other side of the island bar.
Hating the way Donghyuck dragged things out, it was time to take matters into your own hands. Snatching the card out of his hand, you relayed the message aloud, “Hold a staring contest for thirty seconds with the person on your left or drink. The two participants must be within two inches of each other.”
Oh shit.
If there was one thing that made you weak, it was the way Donghyuck stared at you. You barely survived him stealing the fry. There was a mission to complete despite his impenetrable gaze, which kept your center of interest. But for this particular dare, nothing would be in the way but the air you both breathed. Could you be able to maintain your cool or would you fold the minute your eyes locked with his?
“Oh, this is going to be good,” Jeno whispered to Karina, the two now seemingly closer after the phone call scandal. She giggled, turning her head towards him to hide her laugh. Traitors, you thought to yourself, the both of them.
Faking nonchalance, you shifted towards an eager looking Donghyuck. “Thirty seconds is nothing. Let’s get this over with.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied, swiveling in his chair to face you.
The arm holding you close to him slid down your shoulder to rest on your waist, his hand making its way under your sweater and palm now resting on the small of your back. Your body arched at his touch before you fully processed what happened, your grip instantly shooting to his take hold of his upper arms to maintain balance. You ignored the way his muscles flexed under your palms.
Donghyuck chuckled again, “We didn’t even start and you’re already like this. How cute.”
Despite how his words and tone made you melt on the inside, how they made you sink a little more into his touch, the snark came bubbling out of your mouth. “Shut up.”
Donghyuck did the exact opposite of what you demanded. “Why don’t you make me?”
“Oh my god, Donghyuck,” you groaned.
“Is the timer ready?” he asked no one in particular while keeping you in his line of sight. It never wavered even as someone in the crowd announced they had pulled one up and were waiting for his cue.
“Start it,” your best friend commanded and then began the longest thirty seconds of your life.
With Donghyuck barely two inches away from your face, his brown eyes dug deep into your soul. Unable to look away, you took note of how his pupils dilated as Donghyuck continued to stare. The way he looked at you was breathtaking, so focused, like you were the only thing that mattered in the moment.
The boy’s stare, although flattering, was almost too intimidating for you to take. The intensity of it all made you want to withdraw, the upper half of your body drawing away from him. No matter how much you wanted to escape, he didn’t let you. Every time you pulled back, he pushed forward until the tip of your nose grazed against his. The hand underneath your sweater found its way up to support your upper back, his other arm extending out to grip the counter top. Donghyuck now had you pinned in between the island bar and his body and it was too damn hot in the room for this.
Just as Donghyuck broke the connection to steal a glance at your lips for the second (or third time) that night, the timer alarmed to signal the end of your dare. You lightly shoved your hands against your crush’s chest, ignoring how firm the muscles below you were, to make more room. Once you deemed him far enough, you reached for your cocktail and took a long swig to cool your overheating body down.
Everyone had their own reactions to the stunt: Giselle and Yeri giggling in the corner, Renjun scrolling through the pictures he snuck of the interaction, Jeno and Karina whispering to another about what just transpired. While downing your drink, you made eye contact with Jaemin, who wiggled his eyebrows annoyingly. You were so close to using his pretty face as your punching bag. Ari simply winked at you. You flipped her off in reply.
Even as everyone else moved on, Donghyuck was still stuck on the dare that occurred.
While taking one too many sips of your drink, you spilled a bit of it, liquid sticking to part of your skin. With no hesitation, Donghyuck used a part of his sleeve to wipe it away. The fingers still tucked into your knit sweater rose up to graze the back of your neck. You shuddered as he pulled his hand away, the warmth leaving with him. Just when you thought it was over, his nimble fingers reached out to fix the Santa headband that was slipping. Your breath hitched and your crush promptly picked up on it.
“Do I make you nervous?” he whispered, tacking your name to the end of his question. His voice was lower than usual, the cheerful and bright cadence long gone. The difference in his tone caused your heart to drop to the floor, as if it was free falling from an amusement park’s drop tower at the highest speed. There was no way to pick it back up.
“You wish.”
Donghyuck had the honors of having the last word this time. “I really do.”
No matter how hard you denied it, your best friend did make you nervous. It was apparent when he took the french fry from your mouth and when you had a staring contest. It was even more evident during your next turn, when you were tasked to spin a bottle and kiss whoever it landed on.
There was no point in even spinning the bottle; you knew your mischievous friends would make you re-spin until you landed on the person they (i.e. you) wanted. You twirled the bottle a total of three times. The first time, it landed in between Jaemin and Ari and the next, it pointed to Renjun who quickly shifted from its path. On the last try, it stopped in the middle of you and Donghyuck.
Ari’s manicured hand quickly flicked the bottle just enough so the opened end was aimed right at your best friend. “Well, would you look at that?” she giggled. “It landed on Hyuckie.”
That girl was a devil in disguise, just like her damned partner.
You rolled your eyes. Sarcasm dripped through your words,“Who would’ve thought?”
“Damn. Is the thought of kissing me that dreadful to you?” Donghyuck asked, lifting his Santa hat to run through his hair. His long fingers pushed back the curled bangs covering his eyes, holding them in place as he awaited your reply.
The thought was far from dreadful. Nerve wracking was a far better word to describe how you were feeling. Thrilling was another one you could throw into your word bank.
You ignored the question, too busy handling the butterflies hovering about in your stomach. One almost got caught in your throat when he swiveled your bar stool to face him. You gulped, shoving it back down.
“Is it?” Donghyuck insisted you answer him. You couldn’t lie so you abstained from replying. “Oh, you want me to kiss you so bad, don’t you, princess?”
Avoiding his eyes, you muttered, “Let’s get this over with.”
“Gladly.”
The next thing you knew, Donghyuck’s rough hands found their way back to your cheeks and tugged you closer. Seizing the opportunity, your best friend closed the distance with no hesitation. His plush lips crashed against yours and the years of tension between the two of you ultimately snapped.
As soon as he felt you kiss him back, your body melting right into his grasp, Donghyuck circled an arm around your waist to lock you in his hold. His other hand sneakily traced a path up your arm, creating gooseflesh on your skin, until finding purchase at the back of your head. He cupped your neck to keep you in place and went back for seconds. The first kiss ended and you parted for a mere moment to catch the tiniest breath before you went back at it.
Donghyuck didn’t care about the crowd and quite frankly, you forgot about the audience. He kissed you hard and you couldn’t stop reciprocating even if you tried. The taste of him was addicting, it was impossible to break away.
It was official; you were drunk on him within the first kiss. When Donghyuck tightened his grip, you let out a quiet yet pleasured sound. You latched onto his wavy, brown locks only to tug on them. If you went on for any longer, you were sure to have found your way onto his spread out thighs but you were stopped before you could carry on.
Renjun whistled, pulling your attention from Donghyuck’s kiss and back to the real world.
You slowly opened your eyes, dazed for a moment in time, until you realized what just occurred. Withdrawing the hands tangled in your crush’s hair, you took in your best friend’s appearance–lips red and swollen, hair messy, and eyes half-lidded and completely fixated on your mouth. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took and once his gaze met yours, you swore his pupils grew in size.
“God damn,” Jeno coughed, clearly flustered by the public display of affection. “Hyuck, you need a moment or?”
“Hmmm?” Donghyuck hummed, his stare unfaltering. He tracked every minuscule move you made, from the way you drew yourself back to create some much needed distance to how your mouth let out little pants to slow down your heart rate. He watched you press the back of your hands against your burning cheeks in a failed attempt to cool down. “No, no, I think I’m good.”
“I honestly think they both need a moment,” Yeri muttered under her breath.
“Under the mistletoe maybe,” Ari whispered back.
“The bedroom’s more like it. The card said kiss, not make out for the whole fucking world to see,” Renjun scolded, rubbing his eyes to erase the vision. You probably scarred the poor boy for life. He was most likely debating on whether or not he had to burn his eyes.
“I think that looked hot,” Jaemin commented, giving you a wink. The heat in your cheeks turned up a notch. “Enjoyed it a little too much, yeah?”
“Of course, you enjoyed it, Jaem. You’re a freak,” Giselle said.
“Hey, no kink shaming here! This is a safe space! I’m going to make you take a shot for that!”
Only then did Donghyuck snap out of whatever trance you had him under. He gave you this enchanting smile that looked even prettier with his puffy lips. You did that to him. A swell of pride coursed through you–you ruined him even if it was just for a moment.
One of his hands dropped to your mid thigh while the side arguments continued. It traced a path to your knee, his thumb stroking your skin back and forth. “Was that okay?”
It was more than okay. Fantastic. Exciting. Stimulating even, judging by the damp feeling in your underwear. Worthy enough for an encore performance. “Yes.”
“Good,” Donghyuck gulped, suddenly shy and less confident than he usually is. “Are we okay?”
The look of a siren took over your features, your eyes flickering to his lips for a short second. Chin pointed down, your eyes then widened when rising up to meet his stare. Your hand settled on top of his, grounding it on your bare thigh. He squeezed your flesh as you answered with a breathless, “yeah.”
“It wasn’t too much?” Donghyuck asked, leaning into you.
He always did this–made sure that you were comfortable when put in awkward or unusual situations. Even when he stole your breath away with a kiss or two, the first thing he thought of was you.
The only response you could give was a shake of your head, causing the headband to fall back yet again. With his light touch, Donghyuck fixed it right up and combed back the stray hairs stuck to your face.
“Good,” he repeated with a satisfied nod.
He pressed against your thigh once more and you squeezed his hand back. When your hand refused to move, Donghyuck took it as a sign to keep it there for as long as you accepted his touch. As the game went on and the dares entertained the rest of the crowd, you kept yourself amused by running your fingers against his knuckles. It tickled your crush to no end, his hand squirming underneath yours, trying to break free from your crutches but you didn’t let up.
To prevent it any further, Donghyuck swiftly turned his hand around and tangled his fingers with yours. He kept you in a tight but not squeezing grasp and it took your attention away from your friend group’s shenanigans.
You missed Giselle refusing to take another shot and reluctantly taking off Renjun’s sweater vest with her mouth, then Yeri answering a “fuck, marry, kill” question, all because of how Donghyuck’s hand molded so perfectly with yours. Your eyes were glued to your intertwined fingers under the countertop, hidden from everyone else’s sight, but so crystal clear for yours.
Your heart was going crazy, even crazier than when he kissed you in front of everyone. Those were all done for the public but this little moment was meant for you alone. Donghyuck didn’t have to hold your hand. He stood next to you now, his own seat long forgotten, just to be closer to you. You tested something, trying to pull away but his grip around your hand strengthened, as if he never wanted to let you go.
With a smile on your face, you allowed yourself to lean against him, your arm pressing against his. As you did this, Donghyuck released the hand he held, only to sling over your shoulder. He shifted to hug you from behind, his back bent slightly so he could reach back down to connect your hands again.
You looked up at him. “Comfortable?”
Donghyuck’s melodic voice hummed in reply and you leaned into his chest as he held you tighter. You held your breath as you felt a bit of his strengthened chest pressing into your upper back.
When you stood to refill your cup ten minutes later, Donghyuck still held you with his arms circling your waist as you bent and reached across the countertop. Something hard grazed against your butt as you wiggled in his embrace, stretching your fingers to grab onto the half-emptied soju bottle. He emitted the quietest groan and gripped your sides to keep you still. Heat rushed throughout your entire body when the realization hit and a wave of arousal crashed against you.
“Please stop moving,” he said, desperation oozed out of his gentle command.
The boy couldn’t move you himself, needing you to shield the erection that he was desperately trying to hide. He simply let you out of his hold, long enough to pour yourself another drink, before his arms encompassed you once more. His chin dropped to your shoulder as you sipped on your drink.
“Sorry, can’t help it,” Donghyuck mumbled into your ear, his lips grazing against your earlobe. The slightest brush sent shivers down your spine and you were sure he felt it. It reminded you of the dare card you received earlier and you wondered if your crush would have the same reaction if the roles were reversed.
“It’s ‘kay,” you hushed back.
“Is it though?” Donghyuck pushed. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“I would push you away if I was,” you reassured him before offering him a sip of your drink.
If you turned back, you would’ve caught his eyes widening at your reply. It was a little spark of hope for the boy but then, he couldn’t be too sure. He refused the cocktail, saying that he should stop drinking for the night. He stressed that he needed to be sober by the end of the get-together to make sure you were alright.
A call of your name brought you back to the game. The card you drew was a relatively easy one: post a picture with someone or something to your Instagram feed without editing with the caption, “you are the love of my life.” Patting Donghyuck’s sweater-covered arm, you requested his help, “Take a picture with me?”
“Am I the love of your life now?” He threw back, not denying the request.
You handed your phone to the group’s respective Instagram boyfriend, Jaemin, and giggled. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken that last sip. You were far from drunk but a little past buzzed. “Why? You like the sound of that?”
“I like being called yours,” he flirted back.
“Shut up,” you scrunched your nose at him before turning your attention to the camera aimed at you.
Jaemin, as expected, took a cute picture of the two of you.
Donghuck was still draped over you, hugging you waist from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder. While you grinned happily for the camera, your hands covering his larger ones resting on your belly, your friend kept his soft stare on you. He wore a tender smile, honey dripping from his lips and his eyes. It looked like the perfect print for a couple’s Christmas card instead of a drunken dare and you knew this was a picture you wanted to keep on your feed, dare or not. You could always edit the caption at a later time.
Donghyuck continued to hover over you, watching your fast fingers type out the text. You waited together in silence as you hit post, waiting for the picture to upload. When the photo appeared on your feed, you turned your phone around to show the onlookers. Like the hype crowd they were, all your friends pulled out their own phones to like and comment on the post–the girls writing unhinged comments on your beauty or how Donghyuck stole you away from them while the guys drew attention to how long it took you to get together. You were sure the people who weren’t a part of your usual crowd would believe the caption on your post–after all, many often commented on how cute you looked as a couple. Without context, you were sure Mark would be pissed about how you didn’t tell him shit.
“Alright, alright. It’s your turn, Hyuck,” you said.
“Let me run to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll draw.”
Donghyuck finally let you out of his warm embrace, heading down the hallway of his apartment, leaving you with the rest of your friends. As soon as they heard the door shut, the group turned their heads towards you. They looked like predators, ready to pounce on their prey.
“Y’all really went at it,” Ari said, “you didn’t even come up for a breath.”
“I felt like I needed to leave the room,” Yeri added on.
“And I felt like I needed to gouge my eyes out,” Renjun dramatically rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t drunk enough for that.”
“You want to drink more?” Giselle perked up, already reaching for his shot glass.
“Sit your ass down,” Renjun scolded while reaching for food,“I’m driving you home tonight so I’m tapping out.”
“Party pooper,” she argued.
“I mean I could drink more and we could crash here but do you want to stay with Y/N and Hyuck with all this sexually charged energy in the air?”
“Excuse me, what?” you spat out your drink, eyes enlarged as you processed Renjun’s words.
“You heard what I said,” Renjun snapped before turning back to Giselle, “if you’re fine with that, you’re on your own kid ‘cause I’m going home.”
Giselle gave you a once-over and then a sheepish smile. “Yeah, on second thought, maybe not.”
Not over what Renjun said, you whisper-shouted, “Sexually charged energy?”
“Oh please, if we didn’t stop you, you’d probably end up on Hyuck’s lap,” Karina said as she sat at the dinner table across from the island bar. You glared at her, taking in her current position. She shouldn’t even be the one talking; her bare legs rested on Jeno’s lap, her flesh covered by the fabric of his hoodie. You eyed the slight movement of Jeno’s large hand under the hoodie, how it caressed Karina’s thigh.
“Is he a good kisser?” Jaemin wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“You’re such a gossip,” you rolled your eyes.
“Well, is he?” Ari pushed, ganging up on you with her boyfriend.
Thinking back to the hot kiss you shared made you bite your lip. “No comment.”
“She didn’t deny it so that’s a yes!” Yeri stood up, pointing a finger at you.
You fought the urge to bite it as a small rebellious act. Jeno tugged the end of Yeri’s sweater dress and yanked her back down to her seat.
“He so wants you!”
“You say that like it’s new.”
What? Where they implying that your best friend actually had feelings for you? “What do you mea–”
It was then Donghyuck returned from the bathroom. Your group went quiet as he approached, making the lot of you appear suspicious. “Were you dumb asses talking about me?”
“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Donghyuck,” you said while taking your oversized sweater off.
Being in the hot seat while he was away got you all fired up–you had to find some way to cool you down. Finishing the game in your cropped bra top and skirt would be just fine.
“Ouch,” the boy clutched his knit sweater right above his heart, the slight tug lifting the material. You caught a sliver of his gorgeous tanned skin and realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You swiftly reverted your eyes to the thin deck of cards on the countertop.
When Donghyuck returned back to his position of hugging you from behind, you froze in your spot. His arms fell over your shoulders, fingertips grazing the flesh of your upper thigh and you did your best to keep it together.
“Can you draw my card for me?” he asked you, his low voice directly in your ear.
His warm breath and long hair tickled your neck and you shut your eyes closed. “Huh?”
“It’s too far and I don’t want to reach over you,” Donghyuck whined, his hands sliding up your arms to massage your shoulders.
You gave into his wishes and reached for a new card. Donghyuck’s grip skimmed your sides, fingers digging into your hips to keep you steady while you leaned forward. His thumbs rubbed little circles on your back as you read the card aloud. “Take a body shot with a person of your choice or finish your drink,” you projected to the awaiting crowd. Fuck.
Jaemin and Ari’s lips formed twin smirks, satisfied with their front row seats while you slowly piece together that particular dare. Donghyuck refused to let you out of his sight or grip. All partner tasks he had were done with you. Therefore, you would be his person of choice for this dare as well. Could your heart even take this?
Like clockwork, Donghyuck swiveled your chair to ask for your consent. His brown eyes dug deep into yours to check in on you. “You okay with this, princess?”
You gestured to the strong cocktail Ari made him. “Would you rather finish that strong concoction or take a shot? I know you said you wanted to stop drinking tonight.”
Donghyuck shook his head, his luscious hair flopping along with his movement. “Don’t do this because of what I said. That’s not what I asked. Are you okay with this–yes or no?”
“I–” You were shy but you weren’t unwilling. This game had gotten you physically closer than any other attempts that were made. It gave you a little confidence when it came to Donghyuck’s physical touch.
When Jaemin and Ari mentioned they had something up their sleeves, you didn’t think a little card game would get you this far. You couldn’t deny the rising tension between you and Donghyuck, especially how it skyrocketed during the many rounds of dares. Neither could you deny the gentler moments sprinkled in the middle of the more intense scenes of the wild night. If all of those moments were leading up to this, why run away from it?
“Yeah.”
That was not what Donghyuck was expecting to hear. “Yeah?”
“Let’s do it,” you nodded bashfully. You turned to face your friends, feigning confidence, “We don’t have tequila so hand me some sugar and the apple mango soju.”
Sweet drinks weren’t really Donghyuck’s thing. He was more of a plain soju and beer person but while you were both out at a barbeque place earlier in the year, he mentioned that he liked the taste of apple mango flavor in passing. Months later and you remembered that little fact. Donghyuck bit back a grin.
He reached out a hand towards you and you carefully placed your hand in his. Donghyuck helped you off your high stool, looking for a place to set you down. The island bar was filled with the food, drinks, and the card game so that wasn’t in the running. The dining table had all the white elephant gifts piled on top, so that wasn’t a choice either.
His eyes landed on the low coffee table in front of the couch and led you to it, your hand clasped tightly with his. Your free hand held the bottle of soju, the sugar, and the shot glass. When no one was looking, you took a quick swig before seating yourself on the cold, glass surface. Donghyuck kneeled in front of you, wedged between your thighs.
Your friends followed, jittery with excitement over what was going to unfold. They planted themselves behind the couch, keeping their distance.
Handing him the sugar shaker, you braced yourself as his tongue licked a spot on your neck. Fingers and toes curling at the sensation, you cocked your head to the side while he sprinkled a bit of sugar on your skin. You didn’t dare open your eyes until you felt him more than a breath away. Avoiding any sort of eye contact with your friends, you fixed your gaze on the person in front of you, pouring the alcohol into the glass. When Donghyuck finished, he looked up at you with parted lips and a glazed over stare.
“Ready?”
Unable to spit out words, you felt your head move up and down. With your approval, Donghyuck placed one hand on your upper back, the other on your thigh, as he guided you down. You winced when the freezing glass met your skin. A gasp followed when the bottom of the shot glass rested on your bare stomach.
The room was silent as Donghyuck placed his arms behind his back. You stared at the ceiling as he descended. Struggling to keep your inhales shallow to keep the shot glass upright, you dug your nails into the heel of your palm. Panic and arousal flooded your brain when you snuck a peek of his head in between your legs. First came the tickle of his long hair, then the puff of his breath. The sensations they caused ignited the fire within you and a wetness to leak into fabric, the one that was fueled by another person’s touch.
Donghyuck paused for a moment, peering up at you. Eyes locked onto his target, he kept a steady gaze as his mouth wrapped around the rim of the glass. The sight of him was too sensual, too debauched for your heart to take, you broke the connection and rested your head back on the glass table. A bit of the soju spilled on your stomach when he threw his head back to take the shot. You wanted to wipe the cold liquid with the hem of your skirt; however, Donghyuck beat you to it, his wet lips thoroughly slurping up the remainder.
To end the dare, your best friend trapped you under him, his arms planted on either side of you. You instantly turned your head to give him more access. One of Donghyuck’s strong hands cupped your jaw to keep you in place as his tongue thoroughly traced the stripe of sugar until it was all gone. He started from where your shoulder met your neck, ghosting all the way up until his nose nudged your earlobe. Donghyuck caught the sharp gasp that escaped you, felt how your hand left crescent moons on his wrist.
One, two, three beats passed until Donghyuck retreated, the scent of his strong cologne whiffing past you as he pulled back. You released a trapped breath and grabbed hold of the hand he offered. Using his strength to bring you back up, your widened eyes met his.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, your friends had already moved on from the dare and deemed their roles as matchmakers a job well done. They moved from their spots behind the couch and began clean up duty. Renjun placed all the used kitchenware and rinsed them in the sink. Giselle and Yeri threw away all the trash and clutter around the kitchen and dining room area. Jeno and Karina moved like two peas in a pod, working together to put away all the leftovers in the fridge. Jaemin and Ari gathered all the cards, disregarding the points earned, and placed them back in the box. No matter who earned the most points, it was clear who the winners were–you and Donghuck won the game and your prizes were each other.
Even with the hustle and bustle happening throughout Donghyuck’s apartment, neither of you noticed, too entranced by each other. Donghyuck was completely under a spellbinding haze–the glazed over expression on your face, paired with your heavy breaths and your parted lips–that he just couldn’t help himself. Hidden by the back of your couch, no one witnessed how your crush broke himself out of his trance just to kiss you one more time.
His lips, still damp with the alcohol that spilled from his messy drinking method, connected with yours. This kiss was slower than the one that took place earlier in the night. Slower but needier. You tasted the sweet soju as your tongues converged. Even with others in the room, who could catch you at any second, Donghyuck never increased the pace. He kept you there with him, warm hands holding your face, thumbs caressing your cheek and the back of your neck, as he lightly bit your bottom lip.
Unable to control yourself, a quiet sigh broke free when his touch ran up to grab a handful of your hair. You instantly felt Donghyuck react to it. With that boost in confidence, his mouth formed a smirk and let out a breathless chuckle that left you desiring more of him. His hips rocked forward just once, something hard swiftly brushing against your privates, and it was enough for you to release a high-pitched mewl at the contact. When Donghyuck pulled away, his deep gaze was still locked on your puffy lips, now swollen from all the damage he’d done to you. Drawing back again, he took in the whole sight of you from his current spot, kneeling in between your spread legs.
You were so breathless, chest heaving and body flushed with warmth. The stain on your lips was almost completely gone, what was left of it messily blotched around your mouth. Even if you reapplied it thirty minutes prior, Donghyuck was almost one hundred percent sure it disappeared because it was smudged on him.
So breathless. So taken. So ruined.
That was the word. You looked ruined and it was all thanks to him.
Lee Donghyuck did that to you and he was damned proud of it. Even if nothing else stemmed from whatever this moment–this night–was, Donghyuck would take the overwhelming pride he felt to his grave. No other kiss, no other makeout session, and whatever followed would ever top this exact moment for him.
You released a quiet giggle and swiped your thumb against his lips. He kissed it as you continued your ministrations, attempting to clean off the bright color that now painted his face.
Would it be so bad of him if he told you to stop? Would it be okay for him to keep those stains, those little specks of you, on his skin? Was it shameless of him to ask? If it was too brazen, he’d do it anyway–Donghyuck would do anything to be at your mercy.
“Hey, lovebirds, we’re heading out!” Jaemin called from behind the couch with Ari snuggled up at his side.
The two of you spun towards them and spotted all your friends gathered by the door. Yeri and Giselle were slipping on their shoes, using Renjun as balance as they stood on one foot. Jeno held Karina’s coat, fighting the blush that warmed his face while the girl of his dreams clung onto his arm. If you were in your right mindset, you would’ve commented on that but you were far from it. You were far from sober, too intoxicated not by the many drinks you consumed, but by all the kisses Donghyuck gave you. They were addicting in their own type of way–with his little suckles, licks, and nips.
“You’re sleeping over, right?” Ari asked, “No need for us to take you home?”
In normal circumstances, you would sleep over with no other questions asked. It was an unspoken rule that you had every time Donghyuck and Mark hosted but this was different than the other times. You just kissed your best friend–the one you usually share a bed with–on multiple occasions throughout the night and there was some sort of invisible string drawing you back to him every single time you pulled away. Ari, as a faithful girl’s girl, was giving you a way out, an option if you didn’t want to take it any further.
As you debated the choice that was given, Donghyuck continued to breathe you in. Although he had a certain look to him, with all the flirtatious methods he had under his belt, the boy was a one girl sort of guy and that girl would always be you. You didn’t know it but he was saving himself for you.
To him, you were not another girl he could have a one-night stand with. You were the person he wanted to wine and dine, to take care of at the end of a long day. He wanted to shower you with his love, undying devotion, and kisses so sweet that could rival the taste of your favorite dessert. And yes, this was a risk–possibly the biggest one in his short lifetime–but out of all the risks he took tonight, this was the one Donghyuck was most willing to take.
You faced Donghyuck, a silent inquiry in your features, as you thought it through. He cocked his head at you, “It’s up to you, princess. It’s okay if you don’t want to sleep over this time.” There was a sense of finality in his low tone, ready to accept whatever answer you were willing to give.
There was the Donghyuck you knew and loved–always putting your comfort before his own. Even when his hardened state was centimeters away from the place it craved the most, Donghyuck maintained his distance out of respect for you. That alone made you want to stay with him, to explore where else the night could take you.
You leaned forward and pressed your body against his. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you leaned your head on his and Donghyuck immediately coiled his arms around your exposed waist.
“I’m gonna stay,” you notified the crowd. Turning so that your lips brushed against his sensitive ear, you whispered just for him to hear, “that’s okay, yeah?”
Donghyuck slammed his eyes shut at your whisper, tightening his limbs that settled around your middle. With his body still in between your legs, you locked him in place by crossing your calves against his back. Your core was now in direct contact with the cold metal of his belt and you shuddered. You sensed the contrasting warmth right below it as you shifted. “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay.”
You could barely maintain eye contact as your friends made their way out the door, “Get home safe, you guys! Text the chat when you get home!”
“Why should we? You’ll be too preoccupied to check,” Yeri yelled back as the front door flung shut.
“You think they’ll finally do it?” Giselle laughed as they all bolted down the stairs.
Karina turned back to face her friend, “Do what–fuck? Yeah.”
“Thank fucking God,” Renjun sighed, “I’m tired of seeing them look at each other like lovesick puppies.”
“They better get together after this or all our hard work was for nothing,” Jaemin scoffed. Ari, still stitched to his side as they stepped outside the complex, nodded in agreement.
“I just feel sorry for Mark,” Yeri winced as they made their way to their respective cars. She pulled out her phone to text the group chat—Mark wouldn’t see it until after his shift at the bar but at least it would act as fair warning.
“Same,” Jeno agreed. He opened the door for Karina, allowing the girl to slide inside the passenger seat before shutting the door and making his way to the driver’s side.
“He’ll live,” Jaemin laughed with no remorse whatsoever,“see y’all later.”
With their friends gone, they were truly alone. No one was left to bother them and the only thing to fill the silence was the Christmas playlist in the background. Donghyuck released out a deep exhale and nuzzled his way into the crook of your neck. His hands were splayed against your thighs, caressing all the bare skin he had direct access to. The feeling of his warmth was contradicting–it heightened your mood but also made you feel so incredibly safe.
Deep in your heart, you knew that Donghyuck would accept whatever you had to offer. If that meant taking things one step further, then he would pursue the heartracing chase that has been going on all night, running you down with kisses and ministrations that would leave you weak in his clutches. But on the other hand, if it meant that you changed your pretty little mind and didn’t want anything to occur, he would take it like a champ and accept that too.
Donghyuck’s subtle touches were light and sensual but never broke the barrier. He just held you, his touch sliding up from your knees to the top of your thighs, fingers skirting around the seams of your bottoms to the curve of your ass. His caress didn’t break through any layers, they just lingered as he continued to keep you in his hold.
You were the one who crashed through the walls that were made. You were the one who called his name, making him turn his chin to face you. You were the one who looked at him so intensely before dipping down to steal another taste of his addicting mouth. And Donghyuck, with all his might, matched your level of desire perfectly.
When your limbs encased him in your embrace, arms around his broad shoulders and legs locking around his hips, Donghyuck let out a miniscule noise and you took the chance to lick around his split lips. Your tongue snaked its way in, stroking the tip of his for a second, before teasingly pulling away. He prevented you from completely ending the kiss, his hand firmly gripping the back of your head.
You sighed out his name, falling more and more into him, and that was it for Donghyuck. He stood up and carried you down the hall. When he stopped kissing you in the middle of the hallway, your brows furrowed and you pulled back in confusion. He wore a sneaky smile on his face as he gestured up with his eyes.
“Mistletoe,” he chuckled.
“You’re impossible,” you said, turning away to smile. He was so impossibly cute.
“What’s so wrong about wanting to kiss you under the mistletoe?” Donghyuck asked, cocking his head to meet your gaze again.
“Nothing.”
“Well then, if it’s nothing, then give me another kiss.”
The sweet and light touch quickly turned into something heavier, doused with all the longing you kept locked up deep in your heart. Donghyuck, with the same degree of desperation to love you, matched your intensity. Your back roughly hit the wall as he raised his knee to apply pressure on your center. The slight pain and the definite pleasure blended so well, you moaned loudly. He lifted his knee again to rip another noise out of you and your whimpers were almost too much for him to process.
“Hyuck?”
“Hmmm?” he hummed as he suckled at your neck.
You were practically sinking down the wall, immersing yourself in his kisses. “Room.”
“What?”
You pried him away from your bruising skin from all his nips and kisses to say, “Your room.” Dropping a kiss to his lips, you begged, “Please.”
Completely in sync, you reached for each other again for another round of urgent kisses. It was the blind leading the blind as Donghyuck stumbled through the narrow walkway to find his room. It would have been easier just to let up for a minute or two but the act of kissing him while desperately searching for his space was so incredibly hot. You were sure it was every girl’s dream to be so carnally wanted by someone to the point of never letting go. You were still processing that you were truly wanted this way by the guy who took up permanent residence in your brain.
You faintly heard the door open and close before you were dropped onto his mattress. You let out a surprise squeal at the unexpected action and he laughed as he slowly crawled over you.
Donghyuck always left his LED lights on even when he was out of the room. You scolded him each time he did it, lecturing him about saving energy, but this was the one time you didn’t. You were glad he left his purple lights on because now you were able to see how truly taken he was by you.
The lights created a halo around his body and yours. Each of you took a moment to soak up your appearances–Donghyuck with purple lights outlining his lean body, light shadows not enough to hide the affection written all over his face and you with your hair spread across his bedsheets, chest heaving in anticipation, and dilated eyes looking up at him.
Your hands snaked up to the hem of his sweater, tugging at it. It was an unspoken question and Donghyuck answered it instantly, stripping himself of the one layer he had on. Unable to resist, your fingers danced across his bare skin, tracing the lines of his lean muscles. You’d seen him shirtless many times before but never like this. You never had him hovering over you with the feeling of desire coursing through your bloodstream.
Sliding your hands up, you tugged at his long hair to bring him closer to you and his arms faltered for a second. Donghyuck collapsed, dropping so that he rested on his knees and arms. The strands that you played with dangled across your forehead and you reached up to close the distance.
“I’m going to ask you one more time before I can’t stop myself anymore,” Donghyuck whispered against your lips. “Do you want this?”
No hesitation. “Yes.”
He kissed your breath away, his hands resting against your ribs. Dogghyuck squeezed hushed sounds out of you as he stripped you of your crop top and bra all at once. His hands grasped your breasts, fondled them, while the open-mouthed kisses continued. They drifted from your mouth, his lips marking a path down your neck to your cleavage. Donghyuck teased your nipples with his hand and tongue, watching you writhe with each action he made. Your manicured nails scratched at his back as his licks and pinches quickened.
“God, you’re so–” Donghyuck lost his train of thought when your palm added pressure to the growing need in his pants.
You struggled to get his belt off in between all his distractions. As soon as you did, your nimble fingers unbuttoned his pants and began to shove his tight jeans down his meaty thighs.
Donghyuck reluctantly ripped himself away from you to do the rest of the work. He did a sloppy job of it all, hopping here and there to wiggle out of his jeans but you didn’t care. You kept your eyes on him, your gaze raking from his head all the way down to the apparent tent in his boxer briefs. Crawling your way to the edge of the bed, you looked up at him while you tugged on the waistband of his last remaining layer.
“Don’t look at me like that, princess,” he groaned while you pulled him back towards you. Donghyuck was beyond ready to risk it all for you, no matter the consequences. Logic and friendship be damned.
“Like what?” You blinked slowly.
His hands went to your hair, tugging you up until you were at eye level with each other. The other arm coiled around your waist and pressed your bare, heaving chests together.“God, do you want to be kissed until you can’t breathe?”
“By you? Please,” you pleaded again. Donghyuck gave in to you, protecting your head as the two of you fell back. He kissed you as your back hit the bed a second time, his tongue passing over every crevice in your mouth. He met his need to be closer to you by grinding his hips, an action you promptly followed. His hands and yours were in absolute synchronization as they tugged the remaining layers off.
It seemed like all Donghyuck wanted to do was shower your entire body with his undying devotion, to show you how much he loved you. His lips skipped over the apex between your legs, kissed down your extremities, until he was off the bed with your garments in hand and haphazardly tossed them to the side.
His hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged your body to the end of the bed. Your heavy breathing increased when you realized exactly what Donghyuck was up to. He shot you an animalistic grin as he dived in with a long lick to your velvet skin.
“Hyuck, oh my god,” you cried.
He sucked on one of your lips and then the other with the same amount of pressure. “Again.”
“What?”
“Say my name again.” This time, he swirled his tongue around your clit then added pressure with the tip.
It pushed another winded call of his name out of you and you felt him smirk against you. Donghyuck traced your folds with one finger with a featherlight touch before it ventured inside your aching need. His digit slid right in and out, showing just how much you craved him. His eyes tracked how they eased into you, the sight never boring him in the slightest.
Adding another finger made you even more vocal, as did his tongue playing with your clit. Donghyuck never let up. Even when your fingers tugged a little too tightly on his hair, or when you trapped his head in between your legs, he refused to surrender. Not when your sugary sweet voice kept calling for him.
You grew hot, sweat forming on your skin, as he continued to drive three fingers into you with a speed and depth you could never replicate. The noises you made became more incoherent with each second that passed, Donghyuck couldn’t even process that you were calling his name. He was too into you, eyes rolled to the back of his head, moans buried into your skin.
“Wait, wait–” you screamed, forcefully tugging his head away from you, even though you were teetering the edge.
Donghyuck was dazed, lips and chin drenched by your juices, as you commanded his attention. “D’you want to stop?”
Tears gathered around your waterline, threatening to fall, as you gathered yourself. “N-no but,” you gleaned at the clock on his wall, “Mark–”
Donghyuck possessively growled when his roommate’s name left your lips. He didn’t want to hear anyone else’s name when you looked so disheveled except his. “What about him?”
“He’s coming home soon. He can’t–” Hear us was what you wanted to say.
Donghyuck, however, did not give you time to finish that statement.
Shoving his three fingers back into you with determination, you heard the embarrassingly loud squelching noises over your whimpers. Donghyuck seemed into it, a madden and driven expression taking over his face, as he snarled back, “I’ve waited too fucking long to have you like this. I don’t care if he hears you–let him hear you. I don’t care as long as you’re mine.”
His fingers combined with his god-send of a tongue worked endlessly, never faltering, as they brought you higher and higher. Worries worlds away, all you could center on was the immense pleasure coursing through your entire being. Fingers curled around his hair and played with your breast while Donghyuck coerced more noises out of you. Your insistent jerking at his hair and squirming alerted him that you were almost there, you just needed a little more encouragement.
“Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” he said before his tongue flicked tirelessly.
The soft order mixed with the new nicknames and his brazen desire to make you come undone was too overwhelming, you had no chance of warning before it all came crashing down. Stars in your eyes, cries bubbling out of your mouth, and hands gripping onto anything within your reach, your whole body reaction was good but not enough to satisfy the greed Donghyuck had in him.
“You sound so pretty, so so pretty,” he whispered as he kissed your pulsing bundle. He stroked himself with a painstakingly slow pace, feasting on the way you lost yourself.
When you came to, you rushed to stake your claim on him. If he had his way with you, then you needed your time and space to do the same. Leading him onto the bed, you positioned him to lean against the bedrest and seated yourself on his thighs. His fingers sank into your ass, kneading your flesh until you rocked in time with his movements. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any better than that, your fingers gripped his lengthening cock and began to move.
Paired with the hickeys you planted on his chest and neck, Donghyuck was at your complete and absolute mercy. When your tongue circled a nipple, he released a weak noise. Picking up on how much he liked it, you repeated the action on the neglected partner then kissed your way down to his hardened cock. When you held his gaze captive with your siren eyes, you descended, tongue running along the side of him. Your lips ghosted against the area, never engulfing him, to prolong the teasing.
“Want you to sound pretty, too,” you said as you licked the cum off his tip. “Can you do that for me? Sound pretty?”
Donghyuck let out a small noise that you struggled to hear.
Withdrawing your mouth, you allowed your hands to do the work. They bobbed up and down at a slow, menacing pace, twisting at the right times. When he grew louder, more desperate, you nosed and smirked against his length before giving him what he wanted. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked lightly on the end before deep-throating him. Saliva dripped from your lips as you relax your jaw, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
The action shocked Donghyuck, overloading his nerves, heart, and brain that he almost lost all sense of self. The strong charisma he held while taking care of you disappeared, reduced to pathetic little moans and uncoordinated jerks of his hips.
You heard through the grapevine that he was a verbal lover but you didn’t think he was that noisy. You didn’t mind it though, you took his whimpers and babbles as incoherent praises. Desperate mumbles of your name fired out of his lips and his hands yanked you away before he finished.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said when his hands tugged harshly on your hair. His eyes were still closed as his lips covered yours. He lapped at your mouth, tasting himself, as he placed you on your back again. He nibbled at your earlobe, so near that he could hear your strained puffs. “Dreamed about this for years, waited too damn long. Can’t end like that.”’
“For years, baby?” You scratched his scalp.
His brown eyes rolled back. “Fuck, I love it when you call me that.”
“Baby?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck exhaled. “Again?”
A begging and pliant Donghyuck was a rare sight, you wondered how hard you could push.
“No,” you said firmly, a hint of a smile breaking through when you caught onto his frustration.
When he bucked his hips, you clenched and resisted the urge to grind back. “Why not?”
“You’re cute when you beg.”
Donghyuck let out the loudest whine, grinding again. You coiled your legs around his hips, tightening them to lock him in place. Desperation leaking out of him, he continued his actions. The friction caused by his cock rubbing against your folds was so delicious, you almost gave in.
“You’re a tease,” he groaned deeply.
“No, that’s you.”
“Please,” Donghyuck’s voice sounded so strained. “I want to hear it again.”
Positioning your lips right by his ear, you gave into his request. “Baby.”
Donghyuck showed you just how much he loved that name by bringing your lips back together. His lower body pressed you against the mattress, hasty ruts making his cock slide against your folds. He blindly reached for his drawers, hand crashing against every surface to search for a condom. In his rush, things scattered about, making the task much harder than it should’ve been. He unwillingly separated from you to retrieve the wanted package and slid it on his fully hardened state.
Hushed, nervous giggles took over when Donghyuck inched towards you. He brushed your loose strands sticking to your cheeks away just so he could see your whole face, all flushed because of him. Placing a gentle peck on your lips, he positioned himself and pushed past the barrier of your folds. Donghyuck took his sweet, sweet time sinking deeper into you and your annoyance grew faster than his pacing.
“Hyuck,” you whined, your mind and body obsessing over the way he felt. His cock was girthy, definitely thicker than his three fingers, but just as long. Just one little thrust by him and he’d hit your spot and you were positive it would feel like heaven. You dug your heels into his back and he keeled.
“Yeah?” He stilled when he was fully sheathed, breathing heavily at how your body clung onto him.
“Move,” you harshly whispered, pressing your heels again. The stretch he caused wasn’t an overbearing one, it was one you were more than ready to handle. You needed Donghyuck in all definitions of the word but he wasn’t budging.
“I can’t,” Donghyuck choked when you clenched. You were so tight, affecting him too strongly with the tiniest movements, his mind was conflicted on what to do. A part of him wanted to linger and soak it all in, while the other wanted to lose all sense of control. “You feel so good.”
When you clenched around him again, Donghyuck folded. He never had a chance when it came to resisting you. In the past, he struggled whenever you batted your eyelashes at him or gave him the devilishly innocent puppy dog eyes. How was he supposed to resist your requests when he filled you up to the brim, skin pressed against skin, lips just breaths away from each other? He was at your beck-and-call to the greatest degree and this was the ideal situation to prove it to you.
His first thrust was sudden, interrupting another request spilling out of your mouth. You choked out an elongated groan and it died in your mouth as he moved again. His pacing may have been slow but it was purposeful. You truly felt every little thing–from the way he drew back to the way your body sucked him back in. A part of you wished to get rid of the condom, so you could make out how the ridges and veins swept your walls, but you knew this was the safer, more logical option. (Plus, there was always the next time.)
Your matched rhythm increased as time passed, sounds of skin slapping and pathetic whines echoing within his room’s four walls. His deep plunges hit the target every-time, his cock directly adding a divine pressure to your g-spot and in response, your nails created dents and scratches on his beautifully tanned skin. Your hands explored every crevice of his body, dragging trails down his chest, arms, and abs. His lips traversed the expanse of your neck and collarbone, before coming back to capture yours in messy kisses.
And when you broke away from his kisses to let out neverending whimpers, Donghyuck knew that you were close. His hand lifted one of your legs over his broad shoulder and that new angle alone made you grip and thrash around the sheets. Your motions were frantic at this point, his hips operating at a relentless pace that you could barely chase. His hands on your hips alleviated you of most of the work, your body too spent in the blaring white, starry-eyed high he was providing.
His fingers reaching down to pinch your pulsing clit was the final move before you came crashing down. Ecstasy rippled through you and once again, he milked out your cum until your body trembled with aftershocks. He pulled out then, his large hand rushing to finish himself off.
As you were slowly descending from your high, your one thought was to return the generous favor. Donghyuck jerking himself off to completion didn’t sit right with you. Hazingly, you crawled over to him and swatted his hands aside. The boy was lost in confusion at your actions but it all became crystal clear to him when your face plummeted to his now bare cock, the condom disregarded somewhere on his bed.
Donghyuck’s tip quickly hit the back of your throat as your hands fondled whatever could not fit. He didn’t last much longer, his groans reaching new heights in volume and his once flourished moves turning into an uncoordinated state of frenzy. Donghyuck, with his tight grip loosening through your hair, said your name once more. His mouth slackened and the long-awaited bliss ultimately reached its peak.
A familiar room welcomed you as you opened your eyes the following morning. You blinked away the sleepiness, adjusting to the light that peeked through the blinds. The clock on the wall read eight thirty in the morning, otherwise known as too early to be awake after drinking the night away. Slumber was calling your name but so was your stupid bladder. You unwillingly wiggled out of his embrace, watching and giggling as his body adjusted to the empty space beside him.
You muttered complaints about the cold in your head as you trudged to the bathroom, picking up Donghyuck’s knit sweater as another layer of heat on the way. While you were up, you took care of your usual morning routine–washing your face with Donghyuck’s skin care products, drying your skin with the towel set he always left for you, and brushing your teeth with the toothbrush that stood right next to his.
The domesticity of it hit differently the morning after you were intimate with your best friend. Something in the air had changed and you hoped it was for the better. A small part of your heart, the one that was so incredibly smitten with him, worried Donghyuck would view their night together as a one-time thing. Another part of you, however, believed the words he uttered last night. After all, he said he waited too damn long for this. That had to mean something, right?
You quickly nestled back into the sheets, shifting until the blankets were up to your shoulders. The shirt Donghyuck dressed you in was big and comfortable but the thin fabric wasn’t enough to keep warm throughout the night. Neither was the sweater you threw on. Your preferred source of heat was inches away, his body scorching despite being shirtless.
Donghyuck groaned as you attempted to make yourself comfortable. His arms snaked around your middle, spooning you just like he did the night before. His face dug into the back of your neck, his nose prodding the sliver of skin not covered by your bedridden hair. His low morning voice, the complete opposite of the higher pitch he used around the group, made your heart plummet.“Why did you leave me?”
“I was gone for five minutes.”
“Five minutes too long, princess,” he whined, his fingers skimming up and down your thighs.
“You’re so needy.”
This touch rose at a snail’s pace. He brushed your underwear then moved underneath your clothes to rest his palms on your stomach. “No, I just missed you.”
“Yeah, needy,” you retorted playfully, turning to face him.
The fond smile on your face matched the expression on his and you kissed him softly. He gave you a second kiss and then a third that allowed you to get lost in him. You noticed and enjoyed every little thing he did–his hands dragging your hips to meet him, the sound caught in his throat when your leg wraps around his middle, his tongue lovingly caressing yours.
Donghyuck reluctantly broke away from you, trying to create some distance. He grew a little self-conscious upon tasting the fresh mint on your lips. Covering his mouth, he said, “Wait, shit. Morning breath. Let me just—”
“Don’t care,” you muttered, straddling him so he couldn’t escape your clutches. You pulled him back in, smothering your best friend with all the kisses he deserved. You left one on each of his eyes, the pretty beauty marks sprinkled across his face, and over the hickeys you littered across his golden skin.
He chuckled in between kisses, “Who’s the needy one now?”
“Shut up, you loser,” you rolled your eyes with fake annoyance.
“I thought I was your baaaaaby,” he teased, palms running up and down your sides. You paused at that and Donghyuck noticed. “Hey, what is it? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, it’s just–”
You released a drawn out breath.
“You’re thinking a little loud,” Donghyuck’s voice let up, his concern slipping through his words. He cupped your cheek and your eyes met. “But not loud enough for me to hear your thoughts. Wanna let me into that pretty mind of yours?”
You basked in the way his thumb strokes your cheek so gently and the stars that were shining in his eyes. Lee Donghyuck was many things—a hard worker, a flirt, intelligent, caring, hilarious, a pain-in-the-ass, a brave soul. The list went on and on. He wore many crowns and carried many titles but the one title he did not claim was being yours.
Donghyuck was your best friend but he wasn’t officially yours. And you wanted him to be.
In your bright and rose-colored eyes, Donghyuck was a risk-taker. He took the risks he wanted to last night to get you in his bed. But was that all there was to it? The part of your heart that doubted his actions and feelings took over your thoughts, the questions picking at you with no avail.
If Donghyuck could take risks, then why couldn’t you? Channeling the confidence your best friend usually carried, you asked, “Do you need me the way I need you, Hyuck?”
You reached for the hand resting on your cheek and brought it back down to his bare chest. Fingers interlacing, the back of your hand picked up on his heart pulsating rapidly against his chest.
As if sensing the doubt in your head, he tasked himself to send the negative musings away. Donghyuck didn’t answer your question directly but the words spilling out of his mouth were more than enough for you. “You are the only dream that fills my head—nothing else but you.” He said your name so tenderly, your heart grew three times—no, a million times—too big. At this point, the muscle and the smile that you wore bursted at the seams.
Donghyuck laid out his cards in this game of love and it was time to reveal your hand. You squeezed his hand tightly as an act of courage and then took the leap of faith. “I like you,” you blurted out, “so much. Sometimes too much that it hurts.”
Amused and overjoyed by your confession, Donghyuck rushed up to kiss you. His lips pressing against you so suddenly caught you off guard, you lost your balance in the act. “You are so fucking cute, I don’t know what to do with you,” he muttered in between pecks that made you laugh aloud.
“Date me?” you suggested with a shy smile.
“Princess, I’m going to date the hell out of you, just you wait.”
His kisses eventually subdued and you found yourselves laying on your sides facing each other. No words were exchanged as your heads rested on their respective pillows. You were happy when his words never stopped flowing and when you stared in silence with matching grins.
You watched Donghyuck’s face contort into one of concentration, his fingers rising above his head to count something, before he turned back to you. “We’ve spent seven Christmases together—”
“Oh yeah?”
“—and this one is definitely my favorite.”
His confession was beyond sweet, it’s honey dripping out of his mouth. Over the years, Donghyuck wiggled his way into your holiday traditions. There was a lot you’d done over the years, from ice skating to gingerbread houses to movie marathons and impromptu snowball fights. Many of those moments were core memories you kept dear to your heart. Donghyuck admitting this meant a great deal to you and the space your heart had for him increased tenfold. Your heart was now completely his.
Although they drove you insane with their obvious scheme, you thanked the meddling kids you called friends and their stupid game in your head. After all, they were the ones who encouraged you to risk it all in an extremely unserious and unconventional way.
With that being said, the risks the game of life had to offer were terrifying. They were difficult. If you never took them, they would forever leave you pondering about the road not taken. But when you did take them, risks big or small, they were always worth it.
Kissing Donghyuck sweetly on the lips, you replied, “It’s my favorite too.”
(01:27) Yeri: i’m so sorry marky
(01:29) Jeno: ditto
(01:29) Jeno: f’s in the chat for mark
(01:30) Karina: f
(01:30) Renjun: f
(01:30) Yeri: f
(01:30) Ari: f
(01:31) Giselle: fffffff
(01:32) Jaemin: shut up, he’ll be fine
(01:45) Yeri: I’ll leave my extra key under my mat if you wanna crash somewhere else, just got home
(01:50) Giselle: home, gnite everyone
(01:51) Ari: we just got home too, night night <3
(01:55) Jeno: home, rina’s here too
(01:56) Yeri: oh???
(01:56) Karina: shut up
(02:35) Mark: wtf i just got home, why are you sorry
(02:35) Mark: what happened
(02:36) Mark: bro hold up i hear noises from hyuck’s room, who else did you invite??
(02:36) Mark: did y/n get sexiled??? where is she??
(02:36) Mark: she’s not in my room, i thought she was sleeping over??
(02:37) Mark: wait—OH MY GOD YOOOO WTF IS THAT Y/N IN HIS ROOM
(02:37) Mark: …oh my god that’s her let’s GOOOOOO
(02:38) Mark: omf they’re so loudddddd dude wtfffff
(02:38) Mark: fml yeri im coming over
AUTHOR'S NOTE. I know it's past Christmas now but I hope you enjoy this holiday fic. It ended up being longer than I thought it was going to be but it's done! My first full fic in quite a bit. The games and hilarity that ensue in this fic are based on one of my drunk game nights with friends. Every time I hang out with this group, something inspires me--we're like sitcom worthy at times lol. Fic worthy even. I hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think.
pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader
genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo
summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view.
Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up.
warnings: smut, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n
wc: 22.4k (out of 42k)
a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.
masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)
Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.
You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.
Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.
You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.
Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.
You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.
Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.
That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.
You simply couldn’t care.
Yet.
Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.
He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.
Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.
He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.
Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.
You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.
You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.
“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”
You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.
“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.
“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”
He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”
“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.
“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.
“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”
“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.
“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.
“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”
“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”
“Oh, you can be sure I will.”
Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.
But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.
But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?
Haechan is going to find out.
You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.
It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.
That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.
Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.
Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.
He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.
So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.
“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”
“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.
You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”
Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.
“Mind to explain?”
“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”
“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”
“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.
“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”
“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.
You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”
“You think I did that on purpose?”
“When did you turn it in?” You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”
“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.
“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”
He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”
“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”
The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.
“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.
You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”
He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”
You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”
“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”
“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”
The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.
“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”
“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”
“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”
“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.
You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”
“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”
Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.
You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?
You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.
“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”
You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”
“Come in.”
You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.
“Mark, can you lower the music?”
“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”
“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.
“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”
“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.
“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.
Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”
You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.
“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.
You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.
“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.
“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”
“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”
“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”
Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.
“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”
You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”
“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”
“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”
“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”
Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.
“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”
“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”
“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”
“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”
“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”
“I can,” he retorts smugly.
“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.
Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.
“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”
Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.
The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.
Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.
“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”
“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”
“Grating? Really?”
“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.
You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.
“I am studying.”
“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?
“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”
“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”
“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.
“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.
“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”
“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”
You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”
“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.
“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”
“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”
You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”
“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.
You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.
Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”
“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”
“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”
“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.
He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”
“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.
“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.
You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”
You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.
“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.
“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.
“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”
“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.
“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”
You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”
“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.
“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”
Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”
“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”
“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.
“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”
Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.
“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.
“Would you mind?”
“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”
“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”
“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”
“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.
“What are you doing? I was kidding!”
“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”
Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”
“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”
“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.
“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.
“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.
“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”
You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.
“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”
He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”
You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”
“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.
“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.
“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”
You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.
“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.
Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.
“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”
“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”
“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”
“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.
He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”
You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.
“So, anybody in mind?”
You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.
“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”
“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.
Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.
“Not yet.”
“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.
You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”
Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.
Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.
“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.
“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”
You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”
“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.
“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.
Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”
You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.
“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”
“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.
Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.
“Are you close, brat?”
You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.
“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.
“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.
“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.
“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again.
“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”
“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”
“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.
“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.
“It’s not smart of you.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”
It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.
A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.
But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.
“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.
“I’m not.”
You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”
“Why do you care so much about what I study?”
“So I know how to beat you?”
“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.
“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”
He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”
“We are not studying together.”
“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”
You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”
“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.
“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.
“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.
“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”
“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”
“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.
“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.
“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”
“Being better than you is the prize.”
Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.
“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”
You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”
“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.
“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.
“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.
“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”
“Shut up, it’s not.”
“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.
You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”
“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”
“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”
“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.
“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”
Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”
“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.
“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”
And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.
Haechan hates you.
If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.
He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.
He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.
You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.
Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.
“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.
“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.
“Did you mistake our notes?”
“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.
“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head.
“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”
“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”
“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”
“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”
“Yeah, just not every…thing…”
Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there’s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”
“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.
“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”
“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”
Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”
“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.
“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”
“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.
“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.
“With what notes?”
“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”
When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.
“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.
“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”
“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.
“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.
“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.
“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”
“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”
You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”
“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.
“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.
“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”
You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”
“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”
“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.
He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”
“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”
“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”
“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.
“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”
You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”
“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”
“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.
Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”
“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.
“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”
“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.
Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”
You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.
When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.
Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.
“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.
“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”
“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.
You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.
“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.
You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”
“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”
“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.
“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”
You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”
He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”
“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.
“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”
You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.
“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.
“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”
“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”
“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.
“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”
“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”
He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”
“I just replied.”
“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.”
“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.
“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.
“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”
“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”
“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.
“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”
You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”
“It’s a deal.”
The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.
You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.
“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.
“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.
“Not now.”
“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.
You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.
“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil.
“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.
“Elaborate and change my mind.”
“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.
“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.
“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.
You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.
“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.
“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.
“You didn’t write anything down.”
Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”
“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”
“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”
“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”
“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”
“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.
“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.
“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”
He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”
“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.
“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”
“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”
“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”
You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”
He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.
“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”
“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”
“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.
“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”
You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.
“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.
“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”
“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”
“No, you can’t come in,” you say.
“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”
“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”
“Is it really that small?”
“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”
“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”
“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”
Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”
“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.
“But you love it.”
“No.”
“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”
“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.
“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.
“And I’ll be at the library!”
You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.
From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.
“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.
“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.
“Want to go out with me?”
“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.
“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”
You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”
“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. “Come on, it will be fun.”
“Where would you even take me?”
Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”
When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.
You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.
When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.
“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”
“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”
Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”
“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”
“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”
“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”
“You have a car?”
“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.
You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”
“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.
Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”
“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.
“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.
You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.
“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.
“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.
“Wanted to take the metro?”
You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”
“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”
You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”
“You have a car?”
“No, I have a driving playlist.”
“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”
“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.
Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”
“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’
“Oh God,” he whispers.
“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.
“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”
You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.
“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.
“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.
You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”
“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”
“Once,” you reply immediately.
“Twice, with the kiss…”
“You did that to shut me up.”
“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”
You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.
“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”
“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”
“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”
“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”
He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”
“And attracted to honey.”
“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”
“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”
You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”
“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”
“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”
The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.
“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.
“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”
“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”
“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”
“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.
“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”
“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”
You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”
“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”
“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”
Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”
“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.
“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.
You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.
“But it was still better than this, I guess?”
You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”
He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”
You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”
His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”
“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”
Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”
“I have some notes to edit and —”
“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”
You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”
It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.
“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.
“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.
“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.
“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.
“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”
“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture.
Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.
“Haechan, what are y—”
“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”
You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.
“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”
“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”
“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.
He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”
Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”
“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.
You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.
“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.
“Yeah?”
“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”
He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”
“What if they lock us inside?”
“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”
You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.
“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”
“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.
“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.
You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”
His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”
“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”
“Yeah, until you forget everything.”
You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.
“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”
You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.
“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.
Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”
You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.
His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”
You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.
“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”
“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.
“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”
“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.
“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.
“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”
You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”
“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”
You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.
He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”
“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”
“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.
“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”
“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”
Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.
“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”
“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.
His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”
“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.
“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.
You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”
You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.
“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”
“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.
“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”
“Stop mocking me!”
“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”
You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.
“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.
“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.
He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.
When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.
“Eager, honey?”
“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.
“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.
You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.
One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.
Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.
“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.
You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.
“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”
“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.
“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”
You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.
“Yeah? And who’s that?”
“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.
“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”
You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.
“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”
“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.
Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”
“You’re not the professor so…”
“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”
You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”
Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.
“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”
You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.
Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”
“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”
When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.
“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”
You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.
“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”
“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.
“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”
“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”
Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”
You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.
“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”
“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.
“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”
You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.
“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.
“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”
Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.
“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”
“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.
“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”
You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.
“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”
“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.
Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”
“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.
“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.
“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”
“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face. And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.
“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”
You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.
You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.
“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.
“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.
“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.
“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.
“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”
You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.
“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”
You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”
Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”
“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.
“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”
You chuckle, deciding to believe him.
“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.
“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”
He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”
“They locked us in!”
He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”
“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.
“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”
“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”
“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.
“No,” you say resolutely.
“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.
“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.
Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.
And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.
When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.
You can’t believe you followed him blindly.
Your hands are still intertwined.
With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.
There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.
Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.
Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.
He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.
You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.
But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.
“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.
“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”
“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.
What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.
“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.
“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.
You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”
“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.
“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.
“Are you hinting at something?”
“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”
“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”
“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”
“Do you?” He winks.
“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.
“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”
“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.
He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.
But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.
“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.
“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”
You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.
“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”
Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.
“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.
“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”
“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.
“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”
“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”
“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.
He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.
You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.
His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.
“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”
“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.
Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.
“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.
I played with your heart.
And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.
“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”
“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.
“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.
“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”
“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”
He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”
You roll your eyes. “Really?”
“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”
“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”
“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.
“That’s a crazy choice.”
“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.
“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.
One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.
“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.
“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.
Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”
You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”
“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”
“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.
“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.
“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”
“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.
“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”
Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.
“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”
Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”
You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”
“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”
You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”
He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.
“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”
He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.
You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.
You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.
“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”
You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.
You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.
The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.
“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”
You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”
“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”
“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.
“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.
“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.
“Yeah but —”
“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”
“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.
Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.
And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.
Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.
“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.
The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.
“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”
You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.
Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”
Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.
He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”
Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.
“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.
“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.
It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.
“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.
“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.
When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”
You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.
“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”
When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.
“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”
You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.
You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.
“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”
You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.
There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.
“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”
You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”
Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.
“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.
You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.
“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.
“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”
You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”
You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”
“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.
“Yeah, just coffee.”
He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”
“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.
A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”
“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.
Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”
“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.
“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”
“Who’s fucking?”
“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.
“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.
“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.
“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.
Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”
“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.
“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”
“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.
“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.
“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.
“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”
“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”
“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.
You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”
When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.
“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.
“What?”
“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”
You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.
“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.
“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”
“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”
“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”
general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo
genre. summer vacation AU, friends enemies who fuck, , love triangleish, M/F, smut, pwp, angst, fluff, one shot
warnings. profanity, alcohol mentioned, mean Jeno, explicit smut, mild slut-shaming, jealousy, possessive behavior, y/n is Mark’s cousin, side characters. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
wc. 19k
now playing. Boys Like You//Tanerélle
a/n. before you assume anything has been stolen and plagiarized please remember that I *am* @drunkhazed😑💚
smut warnings. dry humping/with an audience(a bit dubcon), rough and unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, under negotiated kinks, improper aftercare, choking, slapping, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, manhandling(y/n can be lifted and thrown around), degradation, humiliation, etc
♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡
Summertime and the livin’s easy
The same lyrics repeat over and over again. Jaemin’s been looping this same god damn song for the last hour, wailing along with the lyrics like a banshee.
“I love her so bad, but she treats me like shit!” He’s been singing along the entire time too. Sniffling tears away from his eyes, earning another round of groans from everyone trapped inside of the car with him.
“Enough dude!” Haechan shouts, reaching to switch the song. “I can’t fucking take it anymore. It’s summertime and the livin’s easy! Not fucking summertime and torture my fucking friends.”
“Jaemin- listen man, I know this break up has been hard on you, but you don’t have to make all of us suffer with you!” Renjun adds, reaching around the driver’s seat to massage his shoulders.
“Definitely not the best way to go about that..” Jisung mumbles, pinching the skin between his eyebrows.
“Screw her dude, we’re gonna find you so much pussy to lose yourself in the next couple of weeks.” Haechan cheers, reaching over to pat Jaemin’s stomach right as the tears he’s been trying to hold in burst free. “Aw man, gross. Don’t do that!”
Evil, I’ve come to tell you that she’s evil, most definitely
Falling in love must be horrible.
Jeno should probably say something, Jaemin’s his best friend after all.. but they’ve been talking about Jini nonstop for the past 30 days now! And they break up every other month! She said it was for good this time.. but he can’t help to think that’s a lie. Renjun’s not exactly wrong, they’ve been excited about this trip for days now. He’s half-way to throwing out a ‘suck it up!’ right before they exit the Pacific coast highway and he lets out a huge sigh.
“You know I’m right man, enough is enough.” Renjun leans in closer to his ear, whispering low enough for only Jisung and Jeno to catch.
“He’s still our friend..” Jisung mutters, pursing his lips into a thin line.
“I can already smell the coconut tanning lotion melting on fat juicy titties.” Haechan shoves his head out of the passenger seat window. Eyes shut, sucking down a long-winded inhale of the ocean breeze infiltrating the car. “Fuck, I love summer!!!” He shouts out happily, smacking the side of the jeep.
Jaemin breaks into a smile, shaking off the tears that managed to escape. “You guys are right, next time I bring her up—hit me upside my head or something. It’s one our our last summer’s out here, we need to have the best time.”
“That’s my boy!” Renjun yells, wrapping a playful chokehold around his throat. “We’re gonna have the best time!”
“We’re here!” Jaemin shouts out between laughs, slapping at Renjun’s arms still firmly wrapped around his neck.
“Fucking finally.”
Jeno stretches his limbs out, back cracking as he arches back and lets out the deepest and loudest yawn after sitting cramped up in the backseat of Jaemin’s jeep for the last five hours. A ride that could have been less cramped if everyone had stuck to only packing one bag for the next two weeks and Renjun hadn’t changed his plans last minute to tag along.
“You made it!” Mark’s cheerful boisterous giggle sounds out from the front door, throwing it open to run down the driveway in his flip flops that clap loudly against the pavement. Immediately breaking into a round of high-fives and hugs to greet all of them.
“Course we did Markie! Even though Jaemin made us stop five damn times to piss.” Haechan snickers, glaring toward the backseat of his car.
“I drank an entire large cold brew!” Jaemin says to defend himself, waving around the now empty large plastic cup. “Forgot how long this drive is.”
“See, this is what Hannah Montana meant when she said nodding my head like yeah! Moving my hips like yeah! You know I’m gonna be okay!” Haechan sings out terribly, adding a sway of his hips with his arms held up toward the sky. “It’s a party in the USA!”
“Ugh.” Jisung grimaces, dragging his bag past Renjun who joins him, bumping their hips into each other.
Jeno can’t stop the smile from forming on his face, rolling his eyes as he takes in the street. Not much has changed, palm trees full as ever, bright sunlight burning down on the concrete. Santa Barbara really has a charm that Santa Monica can’t compare to.
It is a long drive, especially to be stuck together with his friends all maintaining different levels of energy and patience, but it’s worth it every single time. Because for some reason Mark’s parents agreed to loaning out their beach house a couple of weeks out of the year during summer for their son and his friends to fuck around. The reason really being that he’s spoiled rotten and they cut a deal that as long as a few of his family members can tag along, the summer house is all his.
That’s where you enter.
The first summer Jeno was allowed to venture out to Santa Barbara with his friends was also the first summer he met you. It’s not his favorite memory, in fact, he fucking hates how clearly he remembers every detail from that day.
‘This is my cousin.’ Mark had introduced you with his usual cheerful smile, motioning to his friends that responded with their names one by one.
‘A girl.’ Jaemin mumbled, nudging Jeno’s side.
‘I didn’t think she’d actually want to come after I told her that all of you guys were joining me, but we always hang out during summer since she lives kind of far. You guys don’t mind right?’
‘As long as she doesn’t care, I don’t see anything wrong with having her around.’ Jisung said with his thumbs held up, nodding hard enough for his hair to bounce around.
Yeah. What’s the big deal? Sure, you’re pretty, maybe even one of the prettiest girls Jeno’s ever seen before. And yeah, you smell great, wafting your scent around each time you flip your hair away from your shoulders. Not to add on that he also noticed how you only seem to look away when you find him staring at you.
Jaemin easily started joking around with you, even including you in on some of their legendary inside jokes right away. Haechan, he’s always helpful and cool, cutting up fruit for you and checking to see if you need more snacks or something to drink. Even Renjun, who’s usually awkward around girls, got close to you after a night of a heated Monopoly game while the power went out.
Jeno should have asked if he could join too, desperately racking his brain for how he could break the ice and get to know you better. It shouldn’t be this hard, right? Except it is, because his mouth gets more dry when you’re around. His bottom lip grows raw from biting down on it, his nails get bitten down to nothing but skin, even bleeding at times. He’s a mess in your presence and can’t even figure out why. Surely it has nothing to do with how his chest pinches and pounds faster the second you enter his proximity.
The last time he felt this way was probably junior high when he had a crush— wait no, that wouldn’t make sense. He doesn’t have a crush or anything like that, no way.
Not that his dickhead friends would agree as they laughed and wiggled their eyebrows at him insisting they play spin the bottle.
‘Come on, we’ll make it interesting, the bottle lands on you and you have to choose truth or dare. We’re kind of an uneven number to be playing tonsil hockey right now anyways.’
Haechan smirked, dragging his tongue across his lips. ‘You got nothing to hide anyway, Jeno.’
Great. Fucking pricks. They wouldn’t ask him something about you if he chooses dare. That would be so fucked up, but also- that does not explain why Jaemin winked at him, and why Renjun kept nudging into his side. How the hell can they tell? Has he been too obvious?
‘Oh Jeno! It’s your lucky day!’
The tip of the emptied glass bottle unceremoniously comes to a halt directly pointed at his figure. He sighs, head dropping back as he shakes it back and forth to avoid your curious gaze from across the circle you’ve all ended up in.
It’s still as clear as if it happened just yesterday, and he fucking hates it. Hates that he can still remember the look of disgust forever ruining your pretty face. The loud obnoxious ‘eww!’ You shrieked as his friends bursted out laughing around him after he admitted to finding you cute.
It should have been harmless. He should have fucking gone for a dare, anything better than the rush of embarrassment that sped up to his cheeks and rapidly lit them up to a mortifying shade of red.
God, what was he thinking? Why the hell did he even answer Jaemin’s stupid question honestly!
‘No bullshit alright dude, you into her?’ He smirked, nodding your direction. A look of fear and worry scattered all over your face as he peered back and forth between the two of you.
‘I mean, yeah sure. She’s pretty cute.’
It was innocent, and maybe he had expected—hoped for a better reaction. What would it hurt to imagine you’d reciprocate his feelings? God, it was so dumb, his biggest regret for the last 7 years; even worse than the first time he got high and ran around in his boxers with his ass crack fully out. Albeit, the photos to remind him of his actions the next day didn’t help, he’s never been able to forget that look on your face. Your disgusted repulsed face that he’s only ever seen once, when he fucking called you cute.
Not to mention the way you avoided him after as if he had leprosy, too grossed out to even accept the dishes he set down in front of you for lunch the next day.
Flat out cruel and mean for no reason, making it very clear to him that you wanted nothing to do with him.
Fine.
If that’s the way you want to spend your summer vacation together, then he’d make sure to give you a real reason to hate him.
It started with smearing nutella on your swimsuits that were hanging out to dry. Then purposely aiming the ball at your head during the pool game of volleyball you had the next day, not even apologizing as he smiled and shrugged.
‘Not my fault this airhead can’t see for shit.’
That must have really hit a nerve, sporting a frown throughout the rest of the game until you gave up and refused to continue playing after he accidentally punted the ball right at your face.
Any time he had the chance to grill or cook, he always made sure to make your plate of food extra crispy, real charred.
‘I thought that’s how you liked it, burnt to a crisp.’ He’d smile proudly, scraping a knife down the blackened hotdog he set down for you.
Of course it was childish, he was fucking fifteen years old and you bruised his ego to hell and back as far as he was concerned. Had him pulling at his face in the mirror before bed, tussling his hair, double checking the scent of his body after showering, analyzing his clothes and lack of developed muscle.
You didn’t have to act like he was the most repulsive boy to ever walk the earth! And the reality is, it hurt.
It hurt so bad, he had to shake off the moisture forming behind his eyes after heading to his bedroom, unable to turn off the repeated cry of disgust you let out after all he said is that you’re cute. A harmless fucking compliment.
Really, as much as he hates to say it- you’re a real bitch.
Jeno’s mother would be appalled if she could hear his thoughts when it comes to you. He was raised to be polite, only to respect women. But you, something about you seriously pisses him the fuck off.
It’s not because he likes you. Even his friends were convinced after those first two weeks that you two hated each other, because of course you decided to retaliate. Cutting holes into his swim trunks, pouring itching powder all over his bed, filling his sunscreen bottle up with hair removal cream that left painful welts on his skin after rubbing it in like lotion and laying in the sun.
You. You’re seriously such a bitch, he can’t stand it. Can’t control how his rage rises to a boiling point the second he even catches a glimpse of you. You’re quite possibly the most fucking annoying girl he’s ever met, maybe the only girl that has ever annoyed him this much.
And yet his eyes still scan the room for your presence as he steps inside of the house he’s spent the last 7 summers at. The same room he gave you a kiss in against your will. Right in front of everyone, your cousin, his friends. The night he revisits in his memories time and time again that he can’t move on from.
It was all Jisung’s fault.
‘Fine.’ Jisung smirks mischievously, rubbing his hands together. ‘We’re too old for childish games.’
‘Finally, someone with sense.’ Jeno adds, still pouring salt on his wounds from the time he got stuck inside of a closet with you for seven minutes.
‘Not so fast Jeno. I said childish games, not games in general, and there is one we’ve yet to play.’
‘Here we go.’ Haechan grunts, motioning toward his friend and rolling his eyes. He’s been chatting up some of the girls they met at the beach earlier for the last couple of hours. Refilling their cups and flexing his thin bare arms to entice them. ‘Come on Ji, you always want to play these stupid games.’
’Well, are you too chicken?‘ Jisung’s grin grows larger, raising his eyebrows.
Are you too chicken? He repeated deviously, eyeing everyone around the room. They all refuted his suspicions, turning the question around on him until he agreed to go first and was dared to break Haechan’s cool demeanor
The room erupted with hoots and hollers as he plopped his ass down on the olders lap and Haechan stuttered, eyebrows furrowed together, teeth clenched to hold back a curse.
‘Ji, get the fuck off of me.’
‘Do you give up?’
‘Fuck off.’
Haechan choked on his spit, coughing and shoving the younger away once their lips grazed together. Sitting up without falter, Jisung raised his arms triumphantly. ‘And that is how you play chicken.’
Another stupid game, only now drinks are involved, sipping on tepid beer as he watches Jaemin and Haechan lock lips before both losing at the same time. Dramatically spitting and swiping at their mouths as they kick at each other.
‘YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO KISS ME BACK ASSHOLE!’
Embarrassment covered their faces as the girls surrounding giggled and cooed, letting them know they looked so cute kissing.
‘Fine fine! We start over from whoever hasn’t spun the bottle yet.’ Mark interrupts the ruckus, pointing toward Jeno. ‘Your turn.’
‘Not playing.’
‘And why is that?’ Jisung asks with an arched up eyebrow. ‘Scared?’
‘We know why..’ Renjun mumbles by his side, earning a round of snorts and hushed laughs from his friends.
They know exactly how to get under his skin, how to force his hand to grab onto the stupid bottle. Gripping the body of the emptied glass hard enough to feel the sticky residue left behind from the label that was peeled off. He gulps, refusing to glance around, not wanting to risk the chance of meeting your gaze.
There’s no way he can actually be so unlucky, not twice. The bottle will land on one of his friends, one of the girls they picked up. It won’t land on you, not again. The universe can’t be that cruel to him.
As he watches the bottle slow down, he swallows hard, eyes falling shut right as it comes to a stop. Confirming that some God out there must be an actual monster intent to ruin his life.
‘The two people who hate each other.’ Jaemin laughs out loud, clasping his hands together. ‘This should be good.’
‘Don’t forget the rules.’ Jisung coughs out nervously, nodding toward you. ‘If you don’t want to continue, you forfeit.’
‘Don’t kiss me.’ You murmured, trying to be quiet enough for only him to hear. ‘Please.’
Jeno contemplated ending this fast and doing just that, would you give up before his lips could even get a small taste of yours? Not as if he even wants to know what the lip gloss you’re constantly reapplying tastes like anymore..
‘Go.’ Renjun motions to the both of you, flapping his hands.
If you don’t want him to kiss you, he’ll have to come up with something else. Taking in a deep breath to raise his confidence, he reaches to push loose strands of hair behind your ear; gaining rounds of gasps and amused sounds from your audience.
Wide eyes full of uncertainty, or maybe even dread, stare back at him anticipating his next move. There’s no point in bothering to ask if you’re okay with this, obviously you aren’t. Given the way your nose wrinkles as he moves closer to you and cups your cheeks.
Soft, warm, so squishy beneath his palms that have been beat up from falling off his skateboard and landing hands first against pavement for years. You’re as pretty as ever up close, maybe even prettier. Churning his stomach as he looks over your lips, appearing to be pouting out enticingly on purpose if you ask him. And yet you don’t want a kiss, anything but that..
‘Don’t.’ You whisper again, hardly moving your mouth.
‘Don’t what.’ He repeats monotonously, thumbs slowly sliding down your cheeks. His curious gaze follows, eyeing the swimsuit cover up you have on. The damp one-piece hot pink suit underneath.
Jeno forgets momentarily that this is just a game, that you hate him, that his friends are all snorting and chuckling around you other than Mark who has his eyes covered. He forgets that he’s parting your thighs open to make space for himself against your will, smoothing his hands up your shivering soft inner thighs.
‘She’ll definitely crack..’ Jaemin’s sitting the closests to you, speaking to the others from behind his hand. ‘Jeno’s got this.’ He smirks, but his eyes widen within the next second. His full attention returning to his best friend's hands roaming up your body. To the way your stomach convulses and you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at any of them.
‘No closing your eyes.’ Renjun speaks up, waving at Jaemin to do something.
Jeno slowly lifts his heavy gaze to his friend, practically threatening him with his blown out lust-ridden gaze to dare to try and touch you. This is his time, and the only one that should ever be lucky enough to lay his hands on you is him. The other seems to understand, silently nodding and shrugging Renjun’s command away.
‘You heard them.’ Jeno cups your chin, jerking your head to look at him. Lowering himself deep between your thighs, he grinds down as he lands. The heavy weight of the warm bulge inside of his shorts stealing a gasp from your throat, shooting your eyes fully open to land on his. ‘That’s it.’
Striking your core with another roll of his hips, he can hear the deep inhales around him. Everyone watching the tiny jolts your body gives, digging your back against the floor with each movement.
‘This is too much.’ Mark says from further back, having moved away from the circle to cover his ears and look in the opposite direction. ‘I can’t watch.’
‘Can’t believe she hasn’t tapped out..’ Haechan whispers, biting down on his lips when Jeno picks up his pace, slinking a hand between your bodies.
‘Jeno..’ you grit between clenched teeth, unable to move yourself out from under his weight.
‘Loser?’ He taunts, shifting his lower half down more for his hardened bulge to press against your clothed slit. The tips of his perverse fingers seeking their destination as he taps at your bundle of nerves and pulls your spine to bow up. ‘Give up.’ He mouths, thrusting his stiff hard-on forward roughly. Successfully manipulating the fabric of your swimsuit to close in, sink between your folds.
Panic runs all over your face as you shake your head and lower your gaze to where your hips meld into each other. Biting down on the backs of your teeth to quell down the moans beating at the inside of your throat. Jeno would shove his shorts and boxers off in one go given any other circumstance. Desperate to let his cock breathe the more he builds up his thrusts and slams his hips down.
‘Fuck this is..’ Jisung wipes the sweat collecting at his neck.
‘Hot.’ Jaemin finishes, cheeks flushed pink with big glossy eyes scanning you from your pleasured face to your curved up spine.
Jeno would agree with them, if only he wasn’t so painfully horny. Clutching onto one of your thighs, he throws it over his hip for better leverage to nestle his cock right between your cunt. The material of his swim trunks all sticky and wet from the pre-cum that won’t stop dripping out of his cock. He grunts, using his free hand to grab onto your neck before his next thrust can jerk you too far up the floor. A moan gets caught up in his throat, panicking that it may slip free, he lowers closer to your face. Lips hovering dangerously near by, only a few inches away; each fan of breath emitting from his lips more threatening than the last.
Flailing out your arms in a panic, you stare up at him wide tear-filled eyes, reaching for his wrist. ‘N-no!’
‘Shit.’ He bites down, clasping your throat tighter. ‘Tapping out?’
With your eyes squeezed shut you weakly throw out your free hand at his chest. ‘No m-more!’
‘Fuck.’ Renjun groans, rubbing over his face.
‘J-Jeno wins.’ Jisung says brokenly, stretching his shirt down to his folded in knees to hide the embarrassingly obvious bulge that's formed in his shorts.
Bending down, he hits you with one more firm thrust, lips pressed to your ear. The corners of his mouth twitch as he presses a kiss along your earlobe and nips at your jaw. ‘You lose.’
He watched your face crumble, squeezing your eyes shut as a whimper fled from your lips. Desperate for a taste he plastered his sweaty palm over your mouth. The way your eyes shot open and burned holes into him has never left his mind. Much like the way your thighs clenched around his hips, fear and arousal hitting you all at once.
‘I know you want a kiss.’ Pressing his lips to your forehead, he thrusted against your core pointedly one more time. Rolling off to the side with a proud grin as he sat up victoriously.
Ever since that night, he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you whenever you meet up for summer vacation again. Well, that’s not exactly true, since he can’t actually touch you in front of all of his friends. What would Mark think if he saw the way you drop to your knees for him so easily, how you spit on his cock and gobble him down better than any slut in grade A quality porn?
What would any of them think? And why does he still give a damn. If anything, his friends would be raging with jealousy if they could only hear the way you moan and cry on his cock..
“Jaemin!”
There you are- jumping up from the couch only to run right past him and leap into his best friend's open arms; wrapped up in a tight embrace straight out of some cheesy romcom. Even snaking your legs around his hips, straight up looking like a pair of long-distance lovers.
Jeno would be offended if not for the act you two have successfully kept up the last few summers now. Because why would you greet him first? You hate him.
He hates you.
At least that’s what everyone around the two of you believes.
“Ah, I’ve missed you so much.” His friend sighs, nose pressed against your hair with his eyes falling shut as he deeply inhales. It’s not unusual to see you this close with any of them, but his fingers still itch and jerk by his hips when you take a step back to cup Jaemin’s cheeks and squeeze them until his smooth lips pop forward and he brings out his signature big dolly eyes. Blinking those long eyelashes at you that he knows melts hundreds of girls' hearts.
“You’ve been crying.”
He nods and accentuates his plump pout, bitten over pink lips jutting forward much too close to yours. “It’s okay Jaemin, I’m here now. I’ve got you baby.”
Another hug, another sight that makes Jeno’s eyes shake as you rub up and down Jaemin’s spine, cooing and waving behind his back at Haechan and Renjun who enter next.
Jeno won’t so much as get a nod or ‘sup?’ And he knows it. Clenching his teeth as he looks away and rolls his eyes. It’s not a big deal, nothing to overreact about, not like he’s your boyfriend or anything..
“Boooo!! Break up the love fest!” Haechan shouts, dropping his bag to hold out a thumbs down and obnoxiously blow his tongue out. “Gross.”
“Heyy, my poor Jaemin’s heart is broken!” You scoff, smacking his hand down. “He needs me, unlike you emotionless brutes, I know how to comfort him.”
Oh? You know about Jaemin’s break-up? The one that just happened 2 days ago? That seems to make Jeno’s ears perk up, watching from the corner of his eye as you motion for his best friend to follow you down the hall. “Come on, let’s get you all settled in. I brought you something.”
That’s weird.
Surely Jaemin will tell him about it later, you two have always been closer than you are even with Mark. It’s probably nothing, friends catching up.. that’s all.
Jeno will sneak to your room later, after everyone falls asleep and then you can properly reunite. He can’t wait really, would have made his way to your room once everyone settled into their rooms if you weren’t so occupied with Jaemin..
“Man, she wastes no time.” Renjun laughs, interrupting his thoughts. “Dude’s dick probably still smells like Jini, but here she is ready to claim.”
“Jaemin said they’ve been talking a lot though, must really want him since she never gave up.” Mark mentions, reminding everyone of their usual assigned bedrooms.
“Who’s been talking?” Jeno asks abruptly, shifting to stand awkwardly when everyone’s attention lands on him. “What are you guys on about?”
“This is like the first summer Jaemin’s ever been single.” Jisung shrugs, pointing down the hallway. “I do not want to sleep in the rooms next to either one of them.”
“Jaemin and Jini break up all of the time.” Jeno says flatly, patience wearing thin. “They’ll get back together before we even head home.”
“Not if she has anything to do with it.” Haechan snorts, smiling lazily to one side. Nodding in the direction you’ve disappeared off to with Jaemin.. “I know you hate her, but we all know she’s been dying to fuck Jaemin.”
What?
Renjun rolls his eyes. “Should have been me.”
“Dude.”
“Sorry Mark, but it’s true!” Renjun’s tongue clicks, glaring down the hallway. “I’ve been flirting with her since we were kids!”
“Haven’t we all?” Haechan adds, turning toward Jeno. “I mean, the rest of us. Not you.” He corrects mostly to calm the anger radiating off of his friend.
“Can’t believe we’ve been here for longer than 10 minutes without the two of you exploding at each other yet.” Mark forces a smile, scratching his neck nervously. “Hope uhh.. we can skip that for the next couple of weeks.”
Jeno’s lips tighten together, sealing them shut to stop himself from screaming out something outlandish that he won’t be able to explain. There’s no fucking way you’re seriously trying to hook up with Jaemin? His best fucking friend? You’d never.
But you would, because you love to piss him off, whether it’s intentional or not.
‘I want to see you. Right now.’ Quickly turning around, he shoots you a text. Squinting when his ears pick up on the sound of buzzing clattering on the kitchen counter. Of course you left your phone behind, great.
Text Message From ‘the biggest asshole I know’ reads across the screen. Real mature. At least now he has an excuse to bother you.
“Uh, I’ll be in my usual room.” He nods toward Mark, hauling his bag up the stairs. “Need a shower and a quick nap.”
“Later bro.”
Dropping off his bag in the room across from yours, he tries to unlock your phone. Unable to access more than your lock screen when asked for the passcode, he grunts and walks over to your bedroom for the next couple of weeks. It already smells like you in here, all of your lotions and body sprays set up on one of the dressers, empty luggage on the floor. You must have gotten in early today.. didn’t even bother to text him and let him know.
You probably let Jaemin know, he thinks, eyes rolling off to one side annoyed.
“What are you doing here?”
Jeno’s head snaps to find you at the door, pulling your phone from his pocket. “Forget something?”
“Oh.. thanks.”
“That’s all you have to say to me? What happened to hello? How have you been?”
“When have I ever cared about your well-being?”
“Right.”
He hasn’t even had time to get a good look at you yet. Slowly dragging his eyes down your figure to the sandals you have on, your cutely painted toes. The same toes he’s stuffed inside of his mouth while 9 inches deep inside of you. “If I was Jaemin, you’d care.”
“Jaemin’s my friend.” You say snarkily, letting the door stay open behind you. “Is that a problem?”
“Seems like a lot more than a ‘friend’ to me.”
The questioning look in your eye screams something he can’t decipher, maybe something he doesn’t want to begin to figure out. “You shouldn’t use my best friend just to make me jealous.”
“God, you seriously think that my world revolves around you.” Rolling your eyes, you point behind yourself toward the door. “Get the hell out of my room.”
“Are you gonna make me?” Jeno’s head feels fuzzy already as his palm slams against your door to close it shut. He can’t deny he missed this, the way you stare at him with disgust written all over your pretty features, a little fear hidden in your gaze. Your tight-lipped frown, puffing your chest out to come off more intimidating than you could ever pull off. It makes his blood buzz, ears light up pink filled with fire, intoxicated by the hate that only you are capable of giving him.
“I said get out of my roo—!” A large palm around your throat cuts off your screaming before you can finish. Stealing your next breath with the heavy weight of his hand encased around your neck.
“Wanna repeat that for me?” He mocks, leaning in closer to hiss near your ear before your eyes roll up to find his. That lost empty headed look he’s become addicted to locks in on him, the same exact way it did in the coat closet downstairs near the entrance only a few years ago.
7 minutes in heaven never stood a chance between the bickering and insults you lashed out at each other alone in the middle of hung up jackets and stuffed away pillows. Somehow you two always ended up in these situations, whether it be your friends looking for a laugh or destiny sending you down the same path.
‘Let’s get this over with.’ You rolled your eyes like such a brat. He hated it, hated how easy one little stupid movement could make his skin crawl. No reason you should look that good showing off the whites of your eyes, acting like a little bitch.
‘I’m not fucking kissing you.’
‘You think I want this?! I’m so sick of always getting stuck with you! You’re probably the worst kisser—‘
He had cut you off back then too, the same exact way. Enraged by the lies you continued to hurl at him with intent to hurt. ‘You never shut the fuck up.’
The moan that slipped out of your lips caught the both of you off guard. Tightening his chokehold on your throat to earn another more desperate whiny sound. ‘You like that?’
You still like that, love it in fact. Pursing your lips together to shoot a wad of spit at his face, you gain a bit of momentum while he curses and shakes off the saliva dripping down his cheek. Using his moment of distraction to claw at his shoulders and slam your hips down onto the leg he trapped you against the door with.
“You fucking bitch.”
He knows you hate it when he calls you that, evident by the added pressure you dig into his shoulders with. Strong enough to tear tiny holes through the material of his worn down t-shirt. He hisses and shoves the back of your head against the door. “I’ve been great by the way, in case you’re curious. Thanks for the warm welcome.”
“Did you expect the red carpet rolled out sunshine?”
“It’s not everyday a girl moans out that I’m the best fuck of her life.” He teases meanly, raising an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten already?”
Averting your gaze, you curse under your breath. Blinking away the heat that’s rushed up to your cheeks and burned up to the rims of your eyes. “That’s not—“
“Not what?” He cuts you off, digging his fingers into your hips to roll your lower half up and down his thigh. “Not true?”
It was a moment of weakness, Jeno knows. Knew last summer when you whimpered and trembled on his cock inside of the small pool house he followed you into. Lost in the euphoria of your orgasm or not, nothing you cried out had been a lie and you both know it. Even if you refused to meet his gaze after and changed the subject when he brought it up again later.
“Fucking hate you.” You whisper, showing lack of resistance as he speeds up how fast you rock up and down his thigh.
“I’m the worst.” He cooes, licking his lip. Pressing in to nudge his nose against yours. “Say it, tell me I’m the worst.”
“Sick is what you are,” you spit out breathily. The taut skin between your eyebrows folding together. “So.. fucking annoying.” You pant, the loose summer dress you threw on riding up to your stomach. Underwear scratching against your clit maliciously. “St-stop.”
“Come on baby, tell me.” He huffs, thigh bouncing against your circling hips. “Who fucks you as good as me?”
No one. No one does.
Shaking your head, you look away, face scrunching up as your orgasm begins to unfold. “Bullshit.”
“Making a mess all over my thigh after only a few minutes?” He questions huskily, licking up your sweat damp cheek. The mocking tone unravels a frantic panic through your gut, flushed by the embarrassment. “And you expect me to believe anything you’re saying right now?”
“Ugh! Get off of me.” You grunt, pushing your weight against his chest. Beating your rolled up fists down on his pecs. “Asshole.”
“What’s your problem?”
“You. Always you.” You spit, moving around him to open one of the nightstands drawers. Thighs gripped together to stop yourself from making a mess down your thighs. “Only came in here to grab Jaemin’s gift.”
“Oh?” Jeno’s eyebrows raise all the way up high, tongue dragging across the upper row of his teeth. “Wasn’t aware of the Birthday party?”
“I don’t need celebratory excuses to buy my friends gifts.” You sneer, intentionally walking into him on your way to the door. “You wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“What’d you get him?” He asks curiously, attempting to grab the bag from your hands.
“None of your fucking business.” Taking a big leap toward the door, you yank it open. “And get out of my room.”
“Why? I can just wait in here for you.”
“I’m busy catching up with Jaemin, won’t be back soon. Don’t want you stinking up the place.” Blowing him a kiss, you finish with a raised middle finger. “Fuck outta here.”
Jeno watches you head down the hallway toward the room Jaemin typically shares with Jisung, confusion streaked across his face.
“This doesn’t make any sense..” he whispers, leaning against your door. You seriously just ditched him like that?!? When you’ve practically damn near mounted him and tackled him down for a quickie each time you reunited the past few summers?!
Shaking off his insecure thoughts, he trudges to his bedroom to finish off what you should be on your knees for. It’d be too weird to storm into Jaemin’s bedroom pitching a full tent to yell at you right now.. no way to explain that..
Whatever you’re up to, he doesn’t like it. Ruining his orgasm in the shower as he lightly bangs his head against the wet tile. Frustrated by all of the scenarios he keeps imagining you and Jaemin falling into, alone, in his room, on his bed, probably sucking face with his best friend.
“She wouldn’t.” He nods to himself, convinced that you may be dumb- but you can’t be that dumb.
Scrubbing at his wet hair with a towel, he catches the annoyed look on his face in the wet fogged up bathroom mirror. “She would.”
♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡
“Holy hell.” Haechan whistles as you step outside, gaining Jeno’s attention to follow his line of gaze.
What the fuck.
“Mama Mia.” Renjun fist bumps Haechan, both nodding proudly. “No more granny one piece swimsuits.”
“Always knew she had a nice ass on her.”
Jeno’s upper lip curls upwards, glaring at you setting down a towel on one of the pool chairs. Making a real show of it with all the unnecessary bending over and hair flips you do.
“If it walks like a whore and talks like a whore.” He mutters, scoffing. “Can only be a fucking whore.”
“Ehh, you’re just mad she’ll never let you hit.” Renjun jeers, pinching Jeno’s cheek. “Grow up!”
Slapping his hand away, he refocuses on setting off laser beams from his eyes into your backside. Your extremely exposed backside that he should have left marked up yesterday with his handprints and teeth marks. That would shut his friends up who have no chance with you, because you belong to him.
At least sometimes.
The huge smile that graces your pretty face as Jaemin approaches you tells him otherwise. Sucking in the insides of his cheeks to bite down on as he watches the two of you embrace and his best friend's hands float much too close to the perk of your ass.
“Luckiest motherfucker in the world I swear.” Haechan curses, sucking air between his teeth when Jaemin takes the chance and gently pats your hip. “I give it one more day before they’re hooking up.”
“You’re probably right.” Renjun hums and agrees. “The sooner the better so we can swoop in next.”
“Wanna tag team?”
“Let’s do it.”
“She doesn’t want any of you.” Jeno shuts them up, frustrated by their banter interrupting his thoughts. Rolling his eyes petulantly and scoffing loudly to announce how annoyed he is.
Who the fuck does Jaemin think he is?! Suddenly single and immediately ready to deep dive between the first pair of legs ready to spread for him?! And you! Who the hell do you think you are! Shamelessly flirting with his friend?!
“This guy.” Haechan rolls his eyes, straightening up and puffing his chest out as you approach them.
“What’s on the menu today boys?” You ask cheerfully, not sparing Jeno a look.
“How about a mimosa for the pretty lady?”
“Sounds great!” You say cheerfully, bouncing up and down much too eagerly for Jeno’s liking.
“What are you wearing?” He hisses as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention from Haechan and Renjun as they scour through the pool bar for champagne. “What the hell is this?”
“Huh?” You ask dumbly, making the same old disgusted face you always pull when he tries to speak to you. “What did you say to me?”
Jeno watches his friends squat down in search of orange juice, grabbing onto your elbow to draw you closer to him. “I said, what the hell are you wearing?!”
“Uhm, a bathing suit?” Attempting to shrug him off, you push at his bare chest. “Let go of me!”
“Quiet down..” his lip curls in, tugging you closer. “Where’d you buy this? A fucking Hustler store?”
“I’ll have you know this is Beach Bunny! And I paid a lot for it!”
“Yeah, with daddy’s money.”
“You shouldn’t talk, West LA trash.”
Ah, there it is. The same shit your spoiled little princess ass always has to say to him. Nothing new, the same fucking boring drag. “That’s all you got? Come on, you can do better than that.”
“Let go of me, Jeno.” You say sternly, with a serious tone. Failing to free yourself from his grip.
“Cover up slut.” He spits, nostrils flaring. “Prancing around showing everything off like that for free? Who fucking raised you?”
“What’s your fucking problem?!”
“Hey uhh,” Haechan clears his throat, taking light steps toward you with Renjun in tow. “Drink’s ready.”
The two peer back and forth between you and Jeno, worry etched across their faces. Repeatedly stealing looks at his hand cradled around your elbow.
“Thanks.”
Before you can reach the flute of champagne and orange juice, Jeno’s arm shoots out faster than he can think. Stealing the glass from Haechan’s hand to pour down your chest and stomach. A round of shocked gasps coming from his friends and the high-pitched scream you let out snaps him fully alert. Taking a step back with wide eyes as you shake off the sticky liquid and proceed to glare at him with balled up fists.
“What. The. Fuck!”
An apology nearly rolls off of his tongue before Renjun rushes to clean off your stomach, shifty-eyed as he takes extra time to dry off your chest. “My new bathing suit!”
Jeno acted abruptly off anger and worry, mostly worried of what his friends could be wondering about finding the two of you like that. Clenching his fists, he bites back the apology that tries to push through.
“Dude, that was not cool.” Haechan snickers at him, snatching the glass back with a look full of disappointment.
“Yeah Jeno, grow the fuck up man.”
Ugh! Great. Now he’s made a fool of himself all thanks to you once again. Shaking his head, he catches your piercing gaze before squatting down to hide behind the bar. You knew good and well what you were doing stepping outside in some skimpy little two piece, dental floss riding up your ass. It’s not his fault that you get off on making him angry or whatever the hell it is that motivates you to piss him off.
“Don’t worry, you still look sexy as fuck.” He hears Renjun mumble. Grinding his teeth together as he continues to pretend to look for something to drink.
“Yeah, here, take this one to Jaemin.” Haechan adds, handing you two champagne flutes. “Go get your boy.”
“You guysss,” you giggle playfully, shooting them both a wink before heading off.
“That was really low, even for you man.” Haechan leans over the bar just as Jeno stands up, distracting himself by reading the label on the bottle in his hold.
“Get over it.” He mutters, ignoring the judging looks his friends share.
“He’s too old to be going through a hormonal imbalance.” Renjun whispers, nudging Haechan’s side to look over in the direction you headed off to. “Kind of funny how Jaemin’s the prey instead of the predator.”
“He doesn’t stand a chance.” Haechan snorts, taking a sip of his beer. “Wish I was dead meat instead, would gladly lay my body out like a corpse to be picked over.”
“What’s that about?” Jeno glares toward the corner of the pool you’ve sidled up to with Jaemin much too close by your side. Floating there, occasionally leaning against the stairs. Smiling and laughing all too much for his liking. The champagne flutes sitting emptied along the edge of the pool along with other bottles his best friends already finished off.
“They’re probably gonna fuck.” Haechan shrugs, speaking casually. “We all saw that coming.”
What?!
Jeno’s mouth pops open, quickly picking up his jaw, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand to properly look at his friend. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”
“Literally that.” Renjun adds, coating the glass in his hand with sugar along the rim before pouring in various shots of alcohol. “Good for her, she’s been trying to get inside of Jaemin’s pants for years. Wish it was me, but whatever.”
You have?! Since when!
Jeno quickly stands up straight, fists clenched at his sides. “Sh-she said that? She told you that?”
“Pftt, it’s obvious. She hardly even keeps in contact with any of us all year except Jaemin.”
WHAT?!
“Yeah, she’s helped him a lot through this break-up with Jini.” Renjun shrugs, mixing his drink. “But from what Jaemin showed me, they pretty much just flirt all of the time.”
“What?? Jaemin’s never mentioned her to me!”
“Probably because you hate her dude.” Haechan tips his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a look at him. Cocking an eyebrow up with intrigue. “Anytime we so much as say her name you get all pissy and blow a gasket.”
“You’re worse than a girl sometimes.” Renjun snorts, joining Haechan’s side on one of the pool chairs under a canopy.
Okay. Valid. Maybe Jaemin would avoid mentioning you if that's the case. He works hard to keep this act up around his friends. Not that it is an act, he really does hate you..
But why would you fail to say anything?! You’ve never once told him you’re into Jaemin! Not that you would.. whore.
“Dude, you okay? Why are you making that face?” Haechan laughs, pointing toward the frustrated wrinkles formed between Jeno’s eyebrows. “Look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Shut up.” Jeno waves him and Renjun off, stomping toward the house while sneaking a look back at you and Jaemin. There’s no fucking way you’re seriously trying to hook up with his best friend, right in front of his face! Even through the water he can see your hands groping over his thighs, lips only an inch away from each other.
Who the hell do you think you are! Probably want him to suffer and watch you flirt with some other guy right in front of him. Not just any other guy but his best god damn friend. The one person he holds above all and trusts with his life.
Haechan and Renjun think he’s too old to be acting like this?! If only they even knew what the hell you’re up to at your grown ass age.
Stomping inside of the house, he paces around the kitchen rubbing at his face. To think he had plans on taking the next step with you this summer. Of admitting something he’s not even sure he wants to be honest about anymore.
“Did the big pissy baby get overheated out there?”
Your voice shatters his stupor, twisting around to find you leaned over the kitchen island with a pleased shit-eating grin on your face. “What are you doing?” He asks flatly, charging to lean over the other side of the counter and meet you half-way. “Or, what do you think you’re doing, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about.” You shrug, walking around him to get to the fridge. “Came in here to get Jaemin some ice, everything’s melted down in the cooler.”
“Bullshit.” Pressing against your back, he flattens you against the cool freezer door before you can get it open. “I’m not into this game you’re playing, so stop it.”
“Like I said,” you push back against him, groaning as he uses extra strength to keep you pressed. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“You don’t?” Curling a digit under the strap of your bottoms, he tugs until the material painfully stretches across your rim. Peering down and licking his lips at the way your hips jut back toward him. “This pretty flimsy poor excuse of a swimsuit wasn’t to impress me, was it?”
“Stop pulling at it!” Grabbing onto his wrist, you try to tug him off. Hissing at the friction caused against your core. “I’m serious Jeno! It’s expensive!”
“You know what else is?” Letting go of the strap to crack against your hip, he wraps around your waist and turns you fast. Manhandling you into a bent position over the kitchen counter. “What you owe me for that stupid little act out there.”
“Don’t! Jaemin’s waiting for me!” You wriggle, grabbing at the counter ledge to escape. Firm heavy hands settle against the end of your spine. Locking your lower half in place with his hips pressed securely against your backside.
“Being way too loud, you’re trying to get caught at this point.” Peering outside of the nearest window, his friends seem oblivious to anything taking place outside of drinking and splashing around. “What if Jaemin sees you like this? Acting like the filthy whore you are. Does he know that side of you yet?”
“Stop!” You writhe against him, squeezing your eyes shut as his nails trace down your back to the swell of your ass.
“Answer me.” The warmth of his palms cup under your butt, shoving up until the fleshy skin folds over on your lower back. “Does he know?”
“No..” you mewl, grip on the counter loosening. Struggling to stay balanced on your tiptoes with shaky knees.
“Why not?” Jeno tuts, rolling his hips in a circle against your lifted bottom. “Only for me?”
“…mhm..” you admit, full of shame, dropping your cheek to lay flat against the cool marble of the counter. “Only for you.”
“If I leave you marked up right now..” he mutters, sucking in air between his teeth. Pulling off of you an inch to admire how much smaller his hands look trying to knead and squeeze all of your plump backside. “How will you explain what happened to all of your admirers?”
“Please Jeno, come on..”
“What are you begging for?” He says mockingly, digging his blunt nails deep enough to hurt but not leave behind more than faded indentations. “For me to fuck you right here?” Bending over on top of you back, he grabs onto your jaw to make sure your eyes find the window. “Want them all to see, don’t you?”
“N-no..”
“Why? Afraid they’ll find out what a slut you really are? After playing this fake innocent act all these years?”
“Jeno—seriously, this isn’t funny!”
“We both know,” dragging the tip of his nose down your cheek, he bites down on your jawline. Pushing off to pull your bikini bottoms to one side and expose your core. “You love being watched.”
It’s reminiscent of that first time he broke you down in front of all of your friends. Laying here, letting him have his way with you again, excited by the idea of getting caught. “Left me hanging yesterday..”
Squatting down to his knees, he cups your ass, slowly pulling you apart to get an up close look between your thighs. Wet warmth painted between your slit eagerly greets him, sucking in a long-winded breath. “Don’t tell me you’re this wet because of someone else?”
A pathetic sound comes out muffled with half of your mouth pressed to the counter. Shivering as he purses his lips and blows out soft breaths of air along your middle.
“I asked you something.” Landing a hard smack down on your ass, he grips your hips to stay in place when they jump back.
“Only you.” You mumble quietly.
“Say that shit again, I want them to hear you.” Another rough hit jolts your backside. Bouncing against the counter, digging into your pelvis from the pressure you slam back down with.
“Jeno..”
The backyard door creaks open, snapping both of your necks straight and jumping up to stand. Fixing your bottoms into place as Jeno curses and stands awkwardly by your side, left with no time to dig inside of his swim trunks and adjust himself before he spots the intruder.
Jisung’s dark hair bounces through the corridor to the kitchen not a second later, surprised to see you standing together in the kitchen.
“What’s going on here? You two fighting again?” Jisung rolls his eyes, pausing to take in the disoriented state both of you are in. “That’s weird.”
“What?” Jeno asks shortly, jaw clenching annoyed by the interruption.
“Uhm,” blinking down toward the olders crotch, he quickly shakes his head and continues to walk to the bathroom. “Nothing.”
Waiting for Jisung to disappear from your line of sight, you let out a sigh. Nodding to the huge tent Jeno’s sporting in his trunks. “Might want to go take care of that before going back out there.”
“Aw man, fuck. Little fucker definitely saw that.” Jeno lets out a long-winded breath, banging the back of his head against one of the cabinets. “Come to my room later?”
“Can’t.” You say stiffly, pretending to ignore the throb between your thighs. “Already told Jaemin we could watch a movie together. Anyway, try not to cum inside of your shorts.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you rush back outside to curl up close to his best friend's side under one of the sun umbrellas.
Jeno takes a few steps ready to chase after you, cursing out when his lower half brushes against the counter. “Fuck.”
He’d ignore how hard the veins lining his cock thrum, engorged and full of blood from the thought of finally getting some and wait a few more minutes until he goes soft, but you just look too damn good in that stupid flimsy bikini. Better than you should flaunting yourself for anyone other than him. This is the second time he’s had to jerk off thanks to you. How stupid of you to think this shit you’re pulling will pay off in the end, unless you’re looking to get fucked close to to death. Two can play hard ball, and he knows he can play much harder than what you’re able to handle.
“Whatever.”
♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡
“I’m always here for you Jaemin.”
A smile finally appears, ducking his face as he chuckles softly and reaches for your hand hanging by your hip. “You’ve been too good to me ever since the break-up. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, I’m your friend. It’s my duty to make sure that smile never leaves your handsome face.”
He pauses for a minute, thumb rubbing the back of your hand as he zones out and nods. “You are my friend. She never really liked that, said I’d call this a boys trip just to come out here to flirt with Mark’s cousin..”
A swell of hope crashes through your chest when his eyes lift to yours and he smiles large enough for the top row of his teeth to fully show. One of your favorite things about Jaemin, his blinding smile that you really would do anything to bring out. “Friends aren’t supposed to flirt, right?”
“I wouldn’t even know how to begin flirting.” You pout, exaggerating your blinks. “How would I flirt? Can you show me?”
A clear tinge of red rises up his neck, dropping his head back to let out a howling laugh, inadvertently squeezing your hand tightly. “The idea of you- of all people, not knowing how to flirt is too funny. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I don’t see what’s so funny about that.” You smirk, leaning in to sway closer to him for your face to only stand a couple of inches apart. “Can’t you teach me how to flirt? I bet you’re real good at it.”
Jaemin staggers for a moment, smile fading slowly as he takes in your curious gaze. The glint in his gaze darkens, slowly dragging across your lips. “You really want me to show you? Not just bullshitting me?”
“Mhmm.” You nod, biting down a grin.
Clearing his throat, he straightens, releasing your hand to rest his arm above your head against the door frame to your bedroom. “Say, we just wrapped up a first date..” He hums, painting a scenario out for you without breaking eye-contact. “I walk you home, thank you for gracing me with your presence.” He huffs, lip lifting to one side holding back an amused smirk. “And then I stop to look you up and down, just like this.”
Slowly, long thick dark eyelashes take their time to fan down over his pinkened cheeks, tucking his lower lip in beneath his teeth as he passes over your chest. Licking the plumpness filling his red juicy bottom lip. “And I lean in close enough to feel your breath quickening, to watch your chest rise faster. Making it obvious that I can’t stop staring at you, can’t get enough of your beauty. Really make every second feel like minutes as I admire how gorgeous and sexy you are.”
His voice deepens to a low rumble, re-enacting everything he says until your backs pressed flat against the door, breathing shallowly, gone silent with evident awe all over your face.
“I don’t have to say much..” he smirks slightly, the standard traditional cute cocky and charming smirk he always pulls when getting his way. His hands lift to move a loose strand of hair behind your ear, intentionally slowly grazing the shell of your ear. Pleased by the obvious shiver that passes down your body. “I just..”
Taking one more step forward he meets you at eye level, dragging his fingers down your jawline to your chin to pinch, focusing on your lips naturally parting open for him, so inviting.
“Lick my lips,” and he does, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, gaze more sultry and hooded now. “And whisper right here like this..” only a hair’s breadth away, he whispers less than an inch away from your mouth. “And when do I get to see you again?”
Fuck.
Ready to scream, you have to bite down on your tongue when he abruptly pulls away and shrugs, standing up straight. “Works every time.”
“Uhm,” sucking down a dry gulp, you nod rapidly, patting for the doorknob behind you. “I’ll definitely have to try that out sometime.”
Jaemin backs away, stepping backwards and shooting you a wink. “You’ll have to let me know if it works. Now get some rest, we have a long day by the pool tomorrow.”
You’d swear he hasn’t stopped flirting given the way he spins around and watches you from over his shoulder still stuck in place against your door as if you’ve been hot glued there. May as well be, clenching your thighs in a deathgrip out of fear that the sticky heat pooling your underwear could trickle free.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You whine once he’s disappeared to the other side of the house. Letting out a long exhausted sigh, you quickly make to enter your room, reaching for the light switch as the door shuts behind you, coating everything in darkness. That’s strang—
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
A roar full of anger charges at you, rasping deep before colliding with your chest, crashing your back against the opposite side of the door you were just fighting to free yourself from.
“Ah, fuck!” You hiss, reaching to rub the back of your head sure to have a walnut sized bump by morning. “Jeno?? Is that you?!?”
“Who the fuck else would it be Sherlock.” He rasps angrily directly in your face, lodging one of his thick forearms under your chin until you cough from lack of air.
“Wh-what the hell are you doing?!” You manage to squeak out, slapping his elbow. “Get off of me!”
“What the hell am I doing?!” He growls, nose digging against your forehead. “What the hell are you doing!!”
“Huh??”
“My best friend?!” Jeno’s screaming, crackling the louder he gets, jerking his arm against your neck to congest your air flow. “Please be fucking serious. I’ve had enough of this shit! You and whatever this is- it ends now.”
“Wh-what?!” You cough, clutching onto his muscular forearm with both hands, struggling to suck in large inhales of oxygen. “I said get off of me, you fucking dick!”
“God you won’t be satisfied until you fuck literally everyone.” Dropping his arm, he gives you no time to recover, manhandling you around to slam you chest first against the door. He scoots up behind you, slotting his covered lower half against yours. The familiar addictive warmth you’ve hungered for since last summer break throbs against your bottom, having to grind your teeth to control an onslaught of whimpers from giving away your arousal. It’s been hard enough to stop yourself from tapping at his door. Having to distract yourself with another cheesy Disney film to watch with Jaemin until you can’t fight sleep off any longer.
“You’re such a whore, fucking open up your legs for anyone.” Strong hands grip the backs of your thighs, slowly climbing up higher to cup the swell of your ass. “I don’t give a fuck who you fuck. Haechan, Renjun, you can even take Jisung’s virginity for all I fucking care. I’d expect no less from a whore like you.”
Pressing in, he flattens to your back, shoving his arm around your neck from behind, cupping your chin to turn your face to the side. “But you will not,” Jeno breathes heavily against your cheek, licking down to the corner of your mouth. “Fuck him.”
You know by now it’s better to stay silent judging by how riled up he already is after blue-balling him twice now. Rutting against your ass like some starved beast desperate to feed, fuck and kill.
But you both know the real reason you sneak around, fight in front of everyone else, taunt and torment each other. The real reason you glare at him from the corner of your eye and suck on his fingers in private. It’s a game for the two of you, and you’re just about ready to cross the finish line to wrap this up for good. Win or lose, you’re tired of playing.
“Oh yeah? And who’s going to stop me?”
Jeno’s mouth hangs open against your cheek, hot gaze burning down your face. “Why him. Why him out of everyone?”
“I like him.” You admit, reaching back to dig your nails into his sides. “And I think he likes me too.”
“Fuck you.” He emphasizes with a hard thrust rocking your hips roughly against the door. “You’re only doing this to piss me off.”
“This is going to shock you but my world does not revolve around you.” You huff, smacking at his sides. “So full of yourself.”
“Maybe I am.” He grunts, bicep curling around your throat tighter, dragging his lips up to your ear. “And you? Wanna be full of me?”
Wet thirsty eyes roll up to meet his, slowly tucking your juicy bottom lip in to suck on. “Mhm..”
“Don’t play fucking dumb.” He jerks, squeezing his arm around your throat harder. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
“To you? What am I doing to you?” You ask in a cocky tone, jamming your bottom against his groin. “Besides making your dick grow a couple more inches?”
“Best cock you’ve ever taken.” He reminds you. Breaking you down round after round last summer until you were acting brainless, spilling out nonsensical thoughts worshipping him for fucking you so damn well.
Best mouth too, you refuse to add, sleek gaze thinning on him expectantly. “And me? What the fuck am I to you?”
“My whore.” Biting down on your cheek, he tightens the chokehold on your throat even more. Fully stealing your breath and pulling tight until you’re perched onto your tippy toes. “Only mine, got that?”
This is really the foreplay between you, learning early on how much you enjoy being roughed up and dragged around. It’s your thing, what really brings your true self out. And Jeno’s the only one that’s ever picked up on what you really want in bed. How you dream of being fucked, what makes your cunt slick up. Never even having to ask or confirm if what he’s doing to turn you on is enough.
All he has to do is remind you of how ashamed you should feel, how dirty you really are for giving it up to him so willingly. A little smack to your face, asphyxiating your lungs and spitting in your mouth, that’s all it took to have you groveling for more on your knees. Begging him to slap you with his long thick cock, literally drooling at the sight of it with your hands pressed together pleading for him to fuck your throat.
Each time you’ve hooked up repeats in his mind non-stop. No one else he fucks with back home matches up to how good you take it, how submissively you melt down at his voice. He can’t stop coming back for more, tingling at the thought of getting his mouth and hands back on your body. That’s why you always end up here together alone in a safe dark place only built for the two of you.
He’ll never admit how much this means to him, how much you mean to him. How much this turns him on, because part of him believes you have to know by now even if he doesn’t do a proper job of showing it. This, these intimate moments with you, bare naked shedding all your inhibitions away one by one, he wouldn’t trade this in for anything in the world.
“Y-yes,” you croak, snaking your fingers around his forearm to create an inch of space. “Yours.”
“Exactly.” He says proudly, licking across his upper lip. Forever and always his, because no one else will ever compare. Certainly not Jaemin, and no fucking bum that tries to earn your attention after him.
The fuzzy look in your eyes that drives him mad sets off a coil in his stomach. Heat invading his chest as he looks over your swollen bitten lips, hazy gaze hooded by lazed eyelids making you even more seductive and enticing. “Made me wait so long for this, you know that.”
It’s a warning for what’s to come, landing a weighted slap down on your ass before he strips off the shorts you have on. Even through the minimal light entering your room from the window, he sucks in a breath between his teeth and gropes over your hips and thighs, scooping your ass to bounce against his palms. “Think you deserve to get fucked after the way you’ve been acting?”
“Y-yes..” you whisper shamelessly, glancing over your shoulder at him. “I deserve it, don’t I puppy?” A hint of playfulness in your voice lifts the corner of his mouth up, fast to shake off his smirk. Jeno’s jaw falls open, blinking furiously to ward off his shock.
Nothing gets under his skin more than that bullshit cute nickname you use on him. Always at the worst times, sparking up annoyance and butterflies through his chest. “Don’t call me that.”
Dropping down to his knees, he wastes no more time to dig his face between your ass cheeks. Dragging the tip of his nose against your wrinkled rim, he breathes in deep knowing you hate when he does that. Or at least you pretend to by squealing and kicking your feet back at him. Mortified and having to look away when he spreads your ass apart to kiss up and down the crevice of your ass.
Tugging his shirt off, he gets back between your legs. Dragging his pouted lips between your slit, sucking small amounts of your arousal onto his tongue. He groans against your core, vibrating up to where you look over your shoulder at him waiting patiently for what he knows you want.
What you want and won’t get.
Pressing firm kisses to your clit and rim, he bites along the perk of your ass. Gently nipping at the fleshy skin, slapping your hips for your butt to ripple against his face. “Shaved your pussy all cute like that for Jaemin?”
A muffled sound of surprise gets lost in your palm, covering your mouth to hide your shock. “No..”
“Sure you didn't, baby.” Slowly standing back up he litters kisses up your back. Gathering your hair to one side to suck on your ear until you squirm and push against him. Kissing down your neck and biting at your shoulder blade before pulling off, he crosses your bedroom to sit on the edge of your bed. “Get your sexy ass over here and sit that pretty pussy on my cock.”
Outstretching his legs, he nods his chin for you to move quick. Walking on trembling legs to quickly obey him, you move to stand in front of him and grab onto his shoulders.
“Jeno..”
Bleary blown out dark irises peer up at you beneath a thick layer of eyelashes. Losing himself in the heat of the room and your aroused scents beginning to infiltrate the space. Tightening his lips, he adjusts to your hands snaking up his throat, jaw twitching as you dig your thumbs into his chin. “Are you still my puppy?”
Jeno wishes you’d let it go. One night a few summers back when you drank far beyond your limits and he found you in the backyard before you were able to cannonball into the pool. Dragging you back inside, he held your hair back as you emptied your guts and cried about ruining the night. It was a moment of weakness on his part, much like yours. Assuming you’d forget about everything that took place in that bathroom he soothingly rubbed down your spine and told you to stop whining.
‘You haven’t ruined anything.’ No, just his heart and ego that have never fully healed since you entered his life. Not that you’re allowed to know any of that, God forbid he be honest even if you looked so cute as he cleaned off your face.
‘You know,’ you mumbled, relaxed against the wall as he dabbed your cheeks free of tears and remnants of alcohol. ‘You’re such a puppy.’
Jeno squinted at you, snickering under his breath. ‘Whatever that means.’ Ignoring the ache in his chest, he dampened a cloth and wiped down your neck.
‘Means you’re so cute.’ You whined, weakly smacking his arm. ‘My cute puppy, making those sweet eyes at me.’
My cute puppy. His hand hing mid-air, wide eyes full of surprise. You’re never this nice to him, or this drunk..
‘How much did you drink?’ He scoffed, swallowing the tightness away from his throat. ‘Too much.’ He whispers.
‘Mmh.. you’re right. Way too much.’
And yet, the smile creeping onto your face right now makes his stomach ache. Grinding his teeth together as he steadily grabs you by the waist and you lowers onto his thighs to seek the fat tip of his cock, hissing as it snags along your wet pulsating entrance.
“Hurry the fuck up and quit pissing me off.” He growls, slapping your ass hard enough to echo through the room.
Taking a deep breath, you have to reach down to guide him in. Stomach sucking in as the familiar stretch begins to split you open. It’s been so long, too long since you’ve taken not only Jeno’s cock, but a cock this fucking thick in girth. Squeezing your eyes shut as a cry pushes out from your lips and the thick head of his size inches in, lighting a fire under your cheeks as creamy wet sounds gush their way up to your ears.
“I don’t have all fucking day.” He snaps, slapping your buttcheeks with both hands even harder than before. Forcing your posture to slump forward, other hand shaking on his shoulder as another inch pushes in. Already wasted enough of his time with whatever that was, probably just trying to manipulate him to get your way again.
“S’too big—“ you whine frustratedly, wrapping both of your arms around his shoulders.
“Never too big for you,” Jeno exhales deeply. “Sluts like you only know how to get fucked.”
Taking it upon himself, he wraps around your waist good and tight, bucking his hips up and pushing you down at the same time to fully take in each and every inch. Burying himself deep inside of you to the brim, coercing your wet arousal to drip down his length and pour down heavily onto his sack. He curses between the strangled scream you wail out, wedging each inch in as deep as possible. Dragging his wide length against your tight hot walls with smooth rolls of his hips grinding upward. “Fuck that’s it.”
“S’too much.” You repeat stupidly, already fucking babbling. Drooling onto your chin and rolling your eyes shut above him. Nails drag down his shoulders to his biceps, circling his arms for something to keep you grounded to earth, fearful you’ll float away as pleasure builds up higher and higher.
Winding his arms around your waist tightly, he sucks on your neck. Licking at the sweat pooling its way down to your collarbone. Grunting against your skin hot and heavy as you start to relax around him after minutes of grinding his cock between your thighs. “Take it.” He whispers along your throat, biting down hard enough to leave marks. Slamming his hips up harshly, colliding your ass down on his upper thighs and filling the room with the sound of your damp wet skin clapping against his.
Lack of response drives him to pummel inside of you even faster. Bracing his hands under your thighs to lift you up and down his size easier, he begins to hoist your limpened weight up and down. The stretch around his cock snapping with each pull out to the tip, dragging deliciously through your clenching heat. Wet pussy slickening up and drenching his cock making each glide inside of you easier than the last, clinging sticky arousal down to his balls. The skin between his own thighs sloppy with it, one of his favorite parts about fucking you, always amazed by how wet you get for him.
“Always so wet for me.” He pants already out of his mind, exerting more energy to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. Providing noisy loud squelches with each penetrating hit of his length. It’s always so good with you, the best he’s ever had, as if he’d ever dare to admit out loud. Lost so deep in the heat of your eager tight pussy, he has to bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood to not shout out something he could end up regretting later.
“Fuck you baby, so good for me aren’t you.” He opts to say instead, gaining speed as he moves back to your waist and pulls you down onto his cock faster. His length grazing against each nerve that shoots straight through your limbs, the clap of your ass hitting his thighs deafeningly loud throughout the room.
“Uh-huh,” you croon, panting wildly against his shoulder. “Deep, so deep.”
“Yeah,” Jeno grinds hot against your most shallow area, the tip of his size kissing your womb. “Greedy pussy wants me even deeper?”
“Y-yes,” it’s impossible to ask for more, drooling down to your chest. Jolting on his cock like a rag doll. The aggressive pace he’s fallen into bouncing your breasts against his chest, creating more heat and sweat all over your bodies. “Please!”
So perfect how much you cry and moan for him, always perfect and good for him. Rasping his own groans out as he possessively grasps your hips and squeezes onto your ass. Hitting you with another succession of slaps before slamming you down onto his complete length. “Fuckfuck!”
“Pleasepleaseplease!” The combination of your pleasured moans sets something off inside of him. Unleashing his need to feel every part of himself buried inside of you. Reaching to secure your thighs around his waist, he shoves off the bed. Knees bent as he uses all of his strength to stand up and haul your body up in the air with him. The arms around his neck scurrying to wrap around him tighter out of fear of being dropped.
Alarmed, frightened eyes shoot open to look at him, head shaking before his arms flex out using each and every muscle to impale you down onto his cock once again. Ripping an orgasm right out of you before you can even fully process that he’s standing up carrying all of your body as if you weigh nothing. Rushing a powerful orgasm out of you that spills down to his shins, splattering on the ground around his feet. “Fuck—yes!”
Letting out a deep guttural howling moan, he chases after release. Unbothered by the despaired cries you continuously let out as he fucks your sensitive pussy wide open. Bicep muscles flex large around your thighs and torso, dripping with a sheen of sweat the more he uses his lower half to push up and bury his length deep inside of you with each barreling thrust. Pliant like a good little doll as you get thrown up and down on him the exact way he likes. Aroused all the more by how your cunt still squeezes around him despite the sad broken little pained ‘ow’s’ you whimper between moans. Clumsily still trying to keep your hold on his shoulders through each sloppy wet stroke.
“Fuck!” All Jeno can do is let out strings of curses. The blunt tip of his cock hitting deep enough to prod the skin under your navel out in this position. Deep, hard, so tenderless, evoking rough brutality with each violent pounding collision of his thighs crashing against your ass.
“Puppy,” you squeak, unable to form a coherent sentence or thought anymore. Toes curled up around his lower back as your thighs weakly flex to keep a tight grip around his waist. “H-hurts!”
The complaint only fuels him to fuck you faster, blinking away the sweat rolling into his eyes, his hold on you tightens. Crashing your weight down on his length to take take and take. All your good for, to take his cock like the fucking whore you are. Merciless with each slap of his full balls landing against your ass. “Gonna fuck you full of cum,” he says with a tight-locked jaw. Spinning on his foot to fall onto the bed with you.
Without missing a beat he reaches for the backs of your knees. Changing the position to keep his cock buried all the way inside of you. Pushing your legs toward your chest and slapping the sides of your thighs in silent demand to hold them in place. “Exactly like that, good little slut.” He says gruffly, hips returning to full on hammer inside of you without anything to stop him. Not the way you cry and scream, letting your legs flop out weakly from your hold when he brings down his thumb to rub at your clit meanly. Scorching another orgasm to flood throughout your body.
“Jeno! P-please! Enough!”
The hot wrap of your pussy around his thick girth is too good to stop. He’d fuck you everyday, keep you sat on his cock even when he’s busy. Trained like his good slut to be ready anytime, anywhere, at any given moment. Drooling down your neck exactly like this, eyes fluttering open and shut as if you can’t believe this is really happening. Chest bouncing up and down so hard, hitting the underside of your chin. The arch in your spine is painful at this point. Struggling to not allow another orgasm to roll through your body as you lay there in defeat and let him have his way with you.
Curling a hand around your throat, he grabs onto one of your floppy legs, throwing your calve onto his shoulder. Drawing out to the tip of his length, he sucks in a wet saliva-coated breath at the sight of your beat up pussy. Ripe and dripping for the taking, only for him. He feeds the entirety of his cock back inside your velvety soft wet walls. Dropping your jaw open to let out a silent cry as he full on rails your cunt with abandon.
“Made to take my cock,” he groans huskily, throat burning from this workout of fucking you. Pushing his stamina to its limits. But he can’t stop, won’t stop his hips from slipping his cock in and out. Clutching onto your thigh to control your writhing hips that jump with every sharp thrust that shapes your insides to take only his cock. “Only mine.”
Still gaining momentum, he fucks into you with inhumane speed when you shout that you’re gonna cum again. Garbled by the sobs you won’t stop letting out, sounding more like chanted prayers worshipping the way he fucks you. Hips slap down against your thighs vigorously, fat cock making sure to permanently destroy your pussy, playing out the loudest wettest sounds with each penetrating hit.
“Oh God!” You helplessly cry out loud, back bowing upward. Shooting pain from your lower back up your spine as another orgasm rains down on you. This one nearly shoving his size out from the force of your release. Stuttering his movements enough for wetness to squirt out around his cock, splashing all over his groin and thighs.
“Fuck, so sexy.” He sighs, swiping down to where his cock disappears inside of you. “One more.”
“N-no! No more!” Overwhelmed by pleasure, you can’t even sob anymore. Too short of breath and dizzy, numb between your thighs as he pulls out completely and readjusts your legs to press down the fronts of your thighs to your chest. “Je-jeno..”
“Shhh, one more for me. Only me.” Bracing his hands on the backs of your knees, he shakes off the sweat dripping down his face. Shoving every inch of his length back inside of your swollen used up pussy. Grinding pointed and perfectly right against the spot deep inside of you, the special place only he’s ever been able to repeatedly reach.
In a blur he races to reach his release. Pretzeling your body in half with his knees lifted off the bed, fully mounted on top of you akin to a predator that’s successfully acquired its kill. Circling its prey with hungry ravenous eyes, licking at his canine teeth ready to dig in. He fucks you through each tear, each trickle of drool that slips from the corners of your lips, each pulsing painful grip your cunt gives his cock. Furiously digging his toes into the bed to bury his length to the hilt, his thrust grow sloppy. Grinding into you one last time as his hips stutter and the sudden mind-crushing weight of his orgasm slams into him like a car wreck.
“Fuck, every drop,” he whines, hitting you with one more weak thrust as hot sticky semen floods your pussy. “All of it for you.”
Gasping through his orgasm, you blink the glassy wet away from your eyes. Sent over the edge again by the visual of his jaw hung open above you, filling you full with cum, warming its way through your twitching stomach.
The weak orgasm that hits you still tightens your muscles around his length. Both of you hissing when he tries to pull his overly sensitive cock away from it, dropping your legs to rest on his hips. He collapses to your side, biting down on his teeth as he pulls out with a loud pop and cum follows after him, dribbling down to your ass and the bed.
“Puppy..” you whine desperately, continuing to tremble through the aftershocks of repeated orgasms. “Kiss me.”
His eyes widen upon your request, staring up at the dark ceiling, still trying to catch his breath. “What?”
“Kiss me, I want a kiss.” You whisper with less confidence, scratching at his shoulder. “Please..”
Jeno’s eyebrows furrow, eyeing you from his peripheral vision. “I should go to my room, clean off before I fall asleep..”
“What?”
Sitting up, he hops off the bed in search of his clothing. “Yeah uh, it’s getting late.” He mumbles out quickly, hopping one leg into his pants. “I’ll end up falling asleep in here if I don’t get up now.”
“Is that..” You sniffle, sitting up with your arms circling around your chest. “..a bad thing?”
“Well yeah.” Setting your dress onto the bed, he tugs back on his shirt. “What if someone sees me leaving your room in the morning?”
“Because that’s all you care about.” You nod, sucking in your lips to hold in a cry.
“We both care about that, pretty sure.”
“You don’t get it.” You snap, getting up to throw on an oversized t-shirt. “You don’t fucking get it. You never have and you never will!”
“Get what?” Jeno glances around one more time to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Oblivious to the tears that continue to roll down your face as you storm past him toward the door.
“Where are you going?!”
“Leave me alone!” You shout, attempting to slam your bedroom door shut before rushing out down the hallway. Using his chest to halt the wood from meeting the frame, he follows after you, eyes wide and full of panic.
“What the hell is your problem?!” He hisses, fully aware of everyone’s bedrooms that you’re passing by on the way toward the backyard. “Come back here! Let’s go inside!”
“I said leave me alone!” You scream deeply once stepping outside. Running past the pool toward the gate that leads out to the sand and beach. “Go away Jeno!”
“No! Come on! What the hell are you doing! It’s so late!”
“Then go away! Fuck off! God just fucking leave me alone!! You were going to anyways!”
“Stop!” Finally catching up to you, he latches onto your arm halfway through the sand. Toes burying into the now cooled off grains that scratch and soothe his skin at the same time. “Let’s go back inside, right now!”
“Why! You don’t fucking care.” You spit out, snatching your arm away. “Don’t fucking touch me, please! Leave me alone!”
Jeno’s jaw hangs loose, staring at you with a look full of confusion and disbelief. “We were having a good time—I don’t get it, what the hell—“
“You were having a good time.” You bark, shoving at his chest. “You.”
“Is this about him? Is this about Jaemin?”
“You’re un-fucking-believable, you know that?!? Ugh! I’m such an idiot! All of this time I’ve wasted on your ass!”
“What are you yelling about?!”
“Do you even know! Do you even have a damn fucking clue how many times your friends have tried to fuck me! And I still choose you!” Digging through your hair in a furious rage, you bellow out a scream between a sob. The sadness you’ve pushed aside consuming your anger as tears push out in rivlets. “You don’t get it! And I’m the dumb idiot that held onto hope that you would..”
“Why are you telling me this?! To piss me off even more!” Jeno’s fist clench, jaw locked tight at the mention of his friends. Who fucking cares if they all want to fuck you. They don’t get to! And that’s the point, you belong to him and only him.
“Oh God,” the sound of waves crashing against sand behind you only spins your head around faster. Trying to fully snap out of every thought and concern you’d locked up because you just liked him too damn much. “I’m gonna be sick. I can’t believe I—I did this to myself. That I let you do this to me!”
“Do what to you?!” Jeno wishes you’d spit it out already. Rubbing at his temples with his thumb and ring finger, he thinks about earlier. The way you were flirting up a damn hurricane with Jaemin. “If you want to be with him, fucking say that! Stop dragging me around—“
“Dragging you around?!” You cut him off, shouting nearly demonically. Grabbing your own throat out of shock at your gravelly tone. “You have the nerve! The fucking gull to corner me every chance you get and tell me I am dragging you around?! Oh my God.”
“Listen, you need to calm down.” Holding up his hands as a sign of peace, he startles and jumps back when you slap them out of your way.
“No!” The corners of your lips drag down more, sucking up the tears that won’t stop. Wet sobs mixing between your struggling breaths. “I’m so so stupid. All of this time, so stupid. Wish I hated you so fucking badly.”
“You do..” he should shut up at this point. But he can’t, much like vomit, speech continues to spew from his mouth despite his mind insisting he shut up. “You do hate me. You hate everything about me.”
“Yeah.” Scrubbing your closed up fists down your cheeks, you glare at him with the most pained expression he’s ever seen on your delicate face. Ripping right through his chest with the lack of hope left in your gaze. “I hate this. Hate how I fall for you so easily.”
Jeno’s mind seems to finally win, digging his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to grab you. He listens, sealing his mouth shut to finally listen.
“Hate when I feel your eyes on me when you think I don’t notice you. Hate how I have to pretend your stupid immature jokes aren’t funny. Hate when I do find you watching me, and you look away, even blush and try to play it off. How pretty your eyes look when they disappear when you smile. How stupid you look coming out of the pool with your messy hair sticking up every direction. How you sing along to all of my favorite songs and ruin them for me.” Letting out a long sigh, you cross your arms to hug your chest, shivering from the cool breeze that builds the longer you stand there.
“I hate how I smile when I see a new text from you. How nice you smell when you shouldn’t, how your clothes always feel softer than anyone else’s. Hate the way you play guitar, how you pretended to yawn during that sappy romance movie we watched last summer when you were actually trying not to cry. Hate how you always play with the beach dogs by barking back at them with your tongue hanging out.”
Jeno can feel the warmth gathering behind his eyes, desperate to pull a yawn right now for the same reason he did while watching Silver Linings Playbook last summer. He pulls at the inside lining in his pockets, biting down on his lip, blinking rapidly.
“But mostly, I hate myself, because I tried so hard.” You blink a fresh cascade of tears, bringing your hands up to hide your face. “I tried so hard to pretend to hate you, to avoid this, to not get hurt.”
His mouth opens to speak, throat locked tight by invisible chains that squeeze around his vocal chords. “I—“
“You don’t care.” Shrugging, you wipe at your face and step around him.
“Wait! No—“ scrambling to stop you, he wraps around your elbow. Practically losing his balance in the sand to stop you as his feet dig in for a better hold.
“Leave me alone!” You plead, ripping your hands free of his hold. “Please. Please do this one thing for me, for once.”
As much as it aches and pinches between his chest, he drops his hands, fingers twitching by his hips to stop you.
Dropping your head back, you aggressively wipe at your eyes, turning away from him without another look.
Standing there with his feet surrounded by cooled sand, he watches your figure grow smaller and smaller until you disappear back inside of the house. You don’t want to be around him right now.. he needs to understand that.
Tomorrow. You can talk about this tomorrow when you’re both feeling more level-headed and have had time to cool down. Sinking down to his knees, he pats over the footprints you left behind. Squeezing his eyes shut as the tears he held in finally find an escape and burn down his cheeks.
This feels wrong, in his heart all of this feels so wrong. But for once he’ll do as you say and leave you alone..
Tomorrow, he’ll fix this.
♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡
Sleep never comes.
Not even counting sheep or chewing down melatonin gummies made a difference. Jeno couldn’t stop thinking about the way you cried and screamed, threw him off and ran away.
You just needed to cool off. The two of you always fight, it’s what you do, and then you fuck and everythings fine again. This fight was different, more intense and left him feeling guilty. With bloodshot eyes he stared at the ceiling for hours thinking of all the different ways he could explain himself to you.
He had fully intended to confess his real feelings to you this summer. Even if it led to getting egg smeared all over his face, embarrassment and rejection. Not as if it’d be anything new, you love to humiliate him..
It’s still early, but he can’t take it anymore. The sound of pots clinking and dishes clattering from the kitchen gets him on his feet. If the guys are already awake and being noisy, you’ll follow in no time. He has to talk to you even if you haven’t cooled off by now..
Pacing in front of your door, he chews at his fingernails. Biting them down to the skin until a few feel raw and sore. He’s psyching himself out, building up the fear of what will happen after he knocks on your door.
“What’re you doing?” Jaemin groans, draping himself against the wall in only his boxers. Eyes puffy and hair sticking up in every direction. “Why are you walking back and forth out here?”
“I’m uh,” Jeno runs a hand through his hair. “Gonna make some coffee, wanted to ask if she wants any.” Coming up with a fast excuse, he points toward your bedroom with his thumb.
“Didn’t she leave already?” Jaemin yawns, rubbing and slapping his face to wake up.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I woke up to pee a few hours ago,” Jaemin yawns again, shaking the sleep away with wide wet eyes. “She said bye, had her luggage.” He shrugs. “Something about having to head home early.”
“What??” Jeno freezes, quickly turning to your door to shove it open. Everything’s gone, the beds made, the closet open and emptied. All of your belongings are gone, as if you hadn’t just occupied the room mere hours ago. “Why would she..”
“I don’t know,” tapping his head against the wall, Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“What??” Jeno’s still in a panic, pulling at a chunk of his hair with a distressed appearance. Why the fuck would you leave?! Without even telling him??
“You know, like, years ago? That one time we were all playing chicken.” Jaemin asks quietly, morning voice still thick and raspy from lack of use. “I thought..” he laughs softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I thought—but you know, when it was your turn..”
“What about it??”
“Obviously all of us thought it was uh—you know,” he coughs awkwardly, rubbing over his bare chest self consciously. “Hot. I’ve been with Jini all these years, but I guess I’ve sort of had a small crush I’ve been ignoring ever since that night..”
Jeno stops pacing in front of your door to glare at his friend. A befuddled expression skewing his face. “What are you trying to say right now?”
“You see, you’re my best friend.” Jaemin straightens up, standing up straight, blinking his eyes open. “Even so, I know to mind my own business but..”
“Spit it out Jaemin.”
“Do you like her?” He squints, lip trembling as if he’s too nervous to even ask. “It’s just..”
“I do.” Jeno says between gritted teeth, holding in his breath to calm down. “I do, and I messed up everything. I fucking—fucked everything up.”
Jaemin nods, patting him on the arm. “Maybe you did, but Laguna isn’t that far of a drive from here.” Adding a nod of encouragement, he squeezes Jeno’s shoulder.
“But..”
“Don’t bring my car back with an empty tank.” Jaemin smiles, motioning for his friend to head out. “Keys are on the kitchen counter.”
Jeno stares at him for a moment, wondering how Jaemin figured everything out. Mildly guilted by the fact that he’s never shared his feelings for you with him.
“Go.” Jaemin smiles, nudging him further down the hall. “The bus to Orange County doesn’t take that long.”
“I’ll explain everything later.” Jeno assures, throwing an arm around Jaemin before running off toward the kitchen. He hasn’t even had time to shower, eat, drink any caffeine. The anxiety rising in his chest lifts his feet off the ground, quickly waving off his friends that yell at him to slow down as he races past them and snatches up the keys to Jaemin’s jeep.
There’s no time to waste, assuming that you’re on your way home, he runs to start the car's engine up. Pure adrenaline sets his foot on the gas before the jeeps even had enough time to warm up, rushing out of the streets to get on the freeway.
He hasn’t thought this through at all. Never even been to your house or visited your city once before. What if you don’t want to see him? This will all be a waste of time.
But he has time to waste on you, he wants to fix this, needs to talk to you. Needs you to know how he really feels about you. Last night was more overwhelming than he had anticipated.
He tries and tries so hard to read you, figure out what’s going on in your head. To know if you even see him as more than a quick and easy way to get off..
What if you tell him to fuck off? Leave you alone like you screamed at him not even more than 10 hours ago..
It’s all he can think about on this quiet long drive. Fighting off his emotions and guilt-ridden conscience that continues to replay your tearful eyes. Alone with his thoughts again, his heart that screams out your name.
“This has to be it.”
‘The big house in the middle of the street with a dusty pink roof, you can’t miss it.’
That’s how Mark described it over the phone when he pulled out of the driveway and realized he had no idea where exactly you live other than knowing you’re somewhere out in Laguna.
‘And the mailbox, you can’t miss the mailbox. My aunt’s like a hippie, she built it herself to resemble a birdhouse.’
Yup. There’s the cute dusty rose mailbox your mom must have made. He nods, messing with his messy head of bed hair that he had no time to even bother fixing before rushing out of the summer house. The drive took nearly 4 hours without traffic. Maybe your bus beat his time, he should ring the doorbell..
God, what if your mom answers?! Or worse, your father?! He really didn’t think this through. He could call you, but what are the chances you’ll even answer him right now.
“I’m such an idiot.” He sighs, sitting down on the steps in front of your house.
Maybe this was a mistake, choosing to impulsively run after you. He fucked up badly, and there’s no way to prove that to you now. Jaemin would treat you way better than he has, he can’t even be upset about it either. He knows his best friend well enough to know he’d worship at your feet probably even worse than he did with Jini. You deserve to be adored and loved.. all he’s ever done is shown you hatred.
“Jeno?”
The sound of a car driving off follows, lifting his gaze to find your confused expression looking back at him as your driver pulls off. He did make it here before you..
“What are you doing here.” And you don’t sound happy about it. Speaking with a stiff tone and lack of curiosity, voice laced with anger. Why would you be happy to see him? He couldn’t have really expected that, even if he hoped for it.
“I, uh,” hopping to stand up, he pats off his jeans. Clearing his throat to ward off the tremble that passes through his vocal chords. “You left.”
Looking over Jaemin’s jeep, you squint, glaring back and forth between the car and back at him. “Did you drive here all the way from Santa Barbara?!”
“Yes.” He says clearly, hands fidgeting by his hips.
“Why.” The stern tone you speak with fails to waver, only emphasized by your stressed features. “Why are you here, why would you do that. And by yourself?! You barely leave the West side! All you ever do is talk crap on the OC. Why would you make this long drive here all by yourself—“
“Because!” He interrupts abruptly, chest tightening up the more you rant at him. “You left!”
“So?!? Why the hell do you care!”
“You—you didn’t give me a chance—“
“Give you a chance??” You repeat in disbelief, eyes blown fully wide. “A chance? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I wanted to let you cool off! So we could start over and talk and I could tell you,” he chokes up, staggering back from foot to foot. Air becomes harder to swallow, shrinking in on himself when you interrupt him again, shouting to the high heavens.
“Talk about what! You said enough last night! Made it pretty fucking clear to me that this is a waste of my damn time! You can’t stand me, think I’m disgusting, clearly just fucking used me!”
“That’s—that’s not true.” He swallows, reaching for his throat. “You, you ran away!”
“And you let me.” With flared nostrils, you shoot daggers straight through his chest. “You think.. you can just show up here, at my fucking house? And what? What do you even still want from me? Came here to get your one last fuck in? Kick me one more time straight through my chest to make sure I never breathe again?”
“I let you say your piece yesterday.” He whispers, unable to meet your gaze. “And you don’t hate me.”
Letting out a short tired laugh, you slump into yourself. Shaking your head in pure disbelief. “Is that it? You won alright. I don’t fucking hate you.”
“Then I did win.” He nods, forcing himself to meet your rage filled gaze. “Because I’ve never hated you.”
“What? You’re going to tell me you’ve liked me all of this time? That you’re just an immature asshole with zero communication skills?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest angrily.
“I think I liked you before you ever even noticed me..” he admits feebly, lifting the balls of his feet off the ground to stand on his heels. The same anxious habit he’s had for years. “I should have told you, I know. I should have ended this thing we had going on and been honest with you. I have no excuse for my behavior..”
“You really expect me to believe you now? When you could have done something about this last night? When I poured my heart out for you?” As dramatic as you sound, he can’t fault you for it. You have every right to be as angry as you are. He’s only surprised that you haven’t reached out to slap him across the face yet.
“I’m a coward.” Taking a long deep breath, he instinctively clutches at his chest to calm his speeding heart rate. “After all this time, I never thought that you’d be the first one to confess. I always thought it’d be me, and I was ready to this summer. I know it’s selfish of me, but with you moving away for university next year, I thought..”
“Thought what?”
“That we could—“ Jeno can feel the burn behind his eyes, blinking rapidly at the moisture that’s coated his iris. Gnawing at his trembling lower lip to keep as much of a confident facade as he can. He stares ahead, time standing still as he takes in your face. The furrow between your eyebrows softening, the tension at the corners of your mouth dissipating. Even now he’s afraid of losing you, but hasn’t he already? Does he have a choice besides to let you go now?
“Jeno.”
“We could try hanging out, beyond summer vacation. That I could take you out finally, and maybe even ask you to be my girlfriend.” His eyes blink shut on that last word, digging a hand into his pocket to wrap around the small velvet bag crushed inside there. “Only if you’d want that..”
Opening his eyes, he can’t stop the few tears that trickle out. Slowly blinking at the wetness clumping his eyelashes together. “Only if you want to be mine.”
It was never supposed to be this way. Standing here before you lacking the right words to say, failing to his own fear of rejection. “I’ve never hated you.” He nods, patting his upper thigh nervously. “And I’m sorry for pushing you away when I should have been the one on my knees for you.”
Redness paints the whites of your eyes, shaking where you stand with your arms circling around your waist. He’d reach out to replace them if you’d let him.. wrap you in the tightest hug, chest to chest, pulse to pulse. “And I’m sorry that I came here to do this but..” dropping the velvet baggy from between his fingers, he steps closer to you. Dragged closer by the imaginary weight of the light object that holds all his deepest secrets and fears. “I’m not really sorry that I did.”
“Jeno..”
“You deserve to know that I love everything about you.” Wiping at his cheeks, he lets out a pitiful laugh. There’s nothing he can feel ashamed of anymore, and it took this moment to realize that. He had to steal Jaemin’s jeep, had to drive 20 miles above the limit, had to rush here for this. Because this wasn’t how he had planned for this summer to go.
You were supposed to have the biggest smile on your face thanks to him, but now here you are, crying again. Tracks of tears staining your cheeks, swelling up your eyes that haven’t had time to fully recover from all of the crying you did last night. He doesn’t deserve to hold pride or carry on a false sense of strength anymore.
“I really fucked up, I think..” tugging the velvet pouch out of his pocket, he holds it out for you. “I think that uh, I wanted to be what I thought you wanted. And I was wrong, I was so wrong. I lost myself a little there when I heard you talking to Jaemin, I got jealous.”
“Jeno,” taking a hold of one of his hands, you only seem to cry harder. Drawing him to stand even closer to you. “I wanted you to be jealous, I wanted you to care about me.”
“Might be useless to say this now, but I care about you a lot.” Letting out a sigh of relief, he sets the pouch in your hand. “Even if we end things for good, I want you to know that this always meant something to me. That I’ve always liked you and hoped for more. That I am your puppy.”
“You’re not fucking with me?” You ask, pouting sadly and testing the weight of the pouch in your hand. “What is this?”
“Open it.”
“I’m scared.” You sniffle, hands shaking as you reach for the pouches opening.
“I know you’re going to university up North after summer..” Jeno sighs, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. “And like I said, I had plans to change things between us this summer..”
“Jeno? What is this?” You break into a smile, a new round of tears trail down to gather in drops at your chin. “You didn’t..”
“Because, I really like you.” Clearing his throat, he spreads out the necklace chain that you’ve taken out onto your palm. Swiping the tip of his finger across the engraved writing on the back of the dog paw charm. “I don’t know, you might forget about me after this summer. It’s fine.” He shrugs to seem calm. Not actually fine with the idea of you erasing the memory of him. “But I wanted to give you something to remember me.”
“You got this for me?”
“I don’t know if you remember that night..” he nods, tight-lipped. “You drank too much,” picking up the charm, he lifts the piece of shining jewelry closer to your eyes. “Anyway, it’s just uhm...”
“I do, I remember.” You struggle to hide a smile, tracing over the words that read back ‘if lost, return to owner’.
Jeno frowns, itching to clean the tears off of your chin before they fall and land on your chest. Aching to find the right words that could ease your pain.
“It’s not much, I know..”
“I love it.”
“Do you?” He sighs nervously, unclasping the necklace to chain it around your neck.
“Am I your owner?”
“..I want you to be.” His throat bobs up and down, gulping to soothe the dryness scratching through his throat. “I want to be yours.”
“So you’ve always liked me?” Losing the battle to hide your smile, you bite down on your lip. Sweeping away the mess of tears continuing to run down your face. “When you say you’ve alwaus liked me..”
“Ever since the first summer at the beach house when I called you cute.”
“Even after I was grossed out?”
“Even after you were grossed out.” Laughing it off, he takes a hold of your hand with a raised eyebrow.
“Jeno, I hate you, you know that right?”
“You know that I love that, right?” He asks in return, taking the chance to cup your cheeks and clean off the residue of tears. “It’s our thing.”
“It is our thing..”
“So, what do you think?” Biting at the insides of his cheeks, his smooths his free hand down the side of your neck. Eyebrows raised with wrinkles set between, hopeful that the smile forming on your face is a good sign.
“I think.. you drove all of this way to get here.. and my parents aren’t home.” Shyly smiling, you bury into his hold. Cheeks flamed with heat, demurely lowering your head to look at your feet.
“They aren’t?” His eyes go wide full of excitement, softly caressing the skin lining your throat.
“Do you want to come inside?”
“Am I about to see your room for the first time?”
“If you want to, do you?”
“Of course!” Jeno smiles wide, clearing his throat and quickly reeling it in to appear cool. “I mean.. yes.”
“Of course you do,” you tease, nodding for him to follow you inside. “You likeeeeee me.”
Jeno waits for you to unlock the front door, bouncing back and forth on the heels of his feet. Normally this deep into a conversation with you, his throat would be hoarse from screaming by now. Instead he feels clammy, short of breath; nervously chewing on his lips when you turn to look at him and lean against the door frame.
Relief rushes through him when you pucker your lips together and motion for him to come inside. Somehow this feels like a new start, what he should have made happen sooner than this. Stepping forward, he grabs onto your waist, palms damp as his nerves continue to short circuit.
“I do, I really like you.”
“You know.. I like you a lot.” You reassure, wrapping around his shoulders. “I waited for you even after all of my friends told me to give up and move on.”
“You told your friends about me?”
“Don’t act so surprised.” You snicker, tugging at a tuft of hair above his nape. “You’re kind of a big deal to me, but just so you know.. they all actually do hate you.”
Jeno blinks slowly, slightly offended and flattered. Admiring how much softer your eyes feel on him, lighting up at the inner turmoil appearing on his face.
“You’ve got a lot of ass kissing to do.”
“Good thing I’m a pro at that already.” He winks, sinking into the way your fingers dance along the back of his neck. This really is different, even the way his heart races and his body reacts to you. But one thing that certainly hasn’t changed is his desires and incessant craving to be all over you.
Read this at 1 am but ended up too exhausted to comment.. this is just so good and getting a somewhat wholesome jeno from the queen herself its just amazing
— parties were never your thing, until a mysterious guy at the party made your evening more enjoyable. you didn’t get his name, so when will you see him again? turns out, he’s a popular skateboarder.
↳ skateboarder! mark x fem reader
— she falls first, he falls harder. mentions of drinking.
featuring nct dream.
chapter one
“Are you having fun?”
Your best friend shouted at you, as music was blasting in the speakers. The room was filled with an overwhelming amount of people, which caused you to stay on the couch for most of the evening so far.
You hated parties. All you wanted to do was stay home. You only attended this party because today was your bestfriend’s birthday.
“Honestly, no.” You shook your head, showing your boredom for the party. She knew you didn’t like parties, so she didn’t mind that you were sitting on the couch while everyone else was having fun.
“Come drink with us!” A group of people, which your best friend knew, but you didn’t, called her to come over towards the kitchen.
“Will you be okay alone? I won’t take long.” She asks you, as she showed you a worried look on her face.
You took her hand in yours, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. “I’ll be fine. Go have fun.” You smiled, as she smiled at you back.
As she walked away from the couch, you decided to stay on your phone. The party will be over soon, is all you thought.
You felt like you were on your phone, forever. Your best friend wasn’t back yet, so you decided to look for her yourself. To your surprise, she wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Shit.
Sending her a text, you hope that she responds to your text soon. You groaned, sitting on the chair that was placed in front of the table as you placed your head in your hands.
“What’s up?”
You looked up, not paying attention to who was around you at first. Looking up, you make eye contact with a guy wearing glasses.
“Oh, hey.” You awkwardly spoke, waving at the guy in front of you. The people that were at this party were close friends of your best friend, you recognized a lot of people, but didn’t talk to them much. So.. who was he?
“Mind if I sit here?”
“Sure.” You responding, not caring much at all. He tried making conversation, but you were making such a terrible first impression as you were clearly annoyed.
“You seem.. bored.” He says, intensely looking at your facial features. Your eyes remained on his, but you quickly looked away to not make it obvious that you were staring at him.
He’s hot.
“I’m not, just tired.” You shrugged.
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’m ready to go home.”
For some reason, his response caught your attention. You were no longer staring at the table, but instead, your eyes met his again.
“So, why don’t you go home?”
He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “Because I rather talk to you.”
Your heart immediately skipped a beat. He was joking, right? Perhaps, he’s another playboy, just like the rest of them are.
“Don’t waste your time, I’m not that interesting.”
He laughed, “You are, more than you know.”
Before you can continue the conversation, someone walks behind him, attempting to scare him. However, it didn’t work.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already. The party just started.” The other guy said to the mysterious guy in front of you. Looking up at you, he realized he interrupted the conversation.
“Sorry, did I interrupt something?”
“Not at all, I was about to get another drink.”
The other guy must’ve noticed your awkward attempt at being interested in your phone, which you weren’t.
“Hi, I’m Jeno. His roommate.”
You showed him a warm smile after telling him your name, “Nice to meet you.”
“Well, I’m leaving now, it was nice talking with you. See you later.” The guy in the glasses smiled at you, as he stood up from his seat and left with Jeno.
You waved goodbye, returning the smile to him. Suddenly, you realized that you forgot to ask for his name. You face palmed yourself, regretting not asking for his name.
A sudden buzzing came from your purse. You opened your purse, taking out your phone as you were receiving a phone call from your friend.
You answered, covering your other ear so you can try to hear her better since the music was still blasting.
“Hey, are you still sitting on the couch?”
“No, I’m in the kitchen. Where are you?”
“In the bathroom, but I’ll be in the kitchen soon. I have so much to tell you!”
You chuckled, hearing your best friend’s excitement through her voice.
— ♡ —
You woke up in your best friend’s bed, as you rolled over to grab your phone from the nightstand. Checking the time, it was almost 11AM.
Your best friend woke up, as you were slightly already making too much noise from moving around in bed.
“Good morning, I’m so exhausted.” Your best friend told you, stretching out your arms.
“I’m sure you are. You slept extremely late.”
Rolling over to your side, you faced your best friend. “So, there’s something you needed to tell me?”
“Oh yeah, sorry for falling asleep on you yesterday.”
Your best friend ended up falling asleep during the party. You told everyone to leave and you were glad that everyone listened.
“It’s okay, now tell me.”
She smiled, looking at the ceiling as she told you. “Someone asked for my phone number yesterday.”
You sat up, not expecting to hear that at all. That’s why she was taking so long, you thought. You shook her arm slightly, wanting to know more about what happened.
“Who was it?”
“I just met him yesterday. He told me his name is Jeno.”
Jeno. He’s the one you met in the kitchen yesterday.
“I was in the kitchen and he approached me while his friend was with him. We started talking and he asked for my number. He said he wants to talk to me more.”
You could see the blush on your best friend’s face.
“That’s so cute.“
“What about you? I saw how his friend was looking at you from across the room.”
You froze, suddenly remembering your interaction with him. You wanted to see him again.
“We talked.. but I forgot to ask for his name. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He’s hot.”
Your best friend laughed, “No way!”
You sighed, “I know.”
“You know, I can always ask Jeno for his name.”
Right, that was a good idea. You smiled, knowing that there’s a possible chance that you will be able to talk to him again.
Your best friend checked her phone, seeing that Jeno sent her a text an hour ago. Jeno invited her to the skatepark. He’ll be there at one.
“Jeno invited me to the skatepark, but you’re coming with me.”
“No thanks, I would rather not third wheel.”
“You won’t! Someone will be there, maybe. Hopefully, you can talk with him! And get his name this time.”
Realization came to you again, the butterflies returned to you.
“Fine, I’ll go.”
“Great! We’re leaving in an hour. Get dressed. Wear something cute for him.” Your best friend winked.
You took that into consideration. But, why were you so nervous? You haven’t known him for that long.
— ♡ —
You and your best friend arrived at the skatepark. In such an unfamiliar setting, you both didn’t know where to go.
Eventually, you both spotted the familiar face, which was Jeno, and approached him.
“Hey Jeno, this is my best friend, she’ll be with us today.”
Jeno smiled at you, “Hi.”
You greeted him back, waving at him. “So, where’s your friend?” Your best friend asked, as you were looking around the skatepark.
“Showing off, as usual. He’s skateboarding now.” Jeno laughed, but he was proud of his best friend for his skateboarding skills.
You looked over, seeing him do tricks on his skateboard. Amazing. His movement on the skateboard with smooth and fast, completely surprising you.
However, you both made eye contact again. Which caused him to stop his skateboard. He was walking towards you all, your heart started pounding once more.
You tried to play it off like you weren’t nervous, but you were. He has a hold on you.. and you didn’t know why.
“Nice to see you again, sweetheart.”
— ♡ —
💌 author’s note — i’m so excited for this series !! to be in the taglist, comment or send me an inbox. 18+ only!
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, angst, college au, sort of a fake dating au, sort of a roommate au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual tension, mark is a virgin, reader is a born again virgin(??), dirty talk, big dick mark agenda, golden hour reference ifykyk, oral (m. receiving), protected sex this time, also no real babies were endangered during the marriage and baby project just a robot one
SUMMARY ▸ mark lee has had the biggest crush on you for years, so, naturally, he’s over the moon when you’re both partnered for a group project. however, he underestimates just how close two people can get when they have to pretend they’re married for a month while taking care of a fake baby.
PLAYLIST ▸ nonsense by sabrina carpenter • golden hour by mark
WORD COUNT ▸ 13,291 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ IT’S HERE! reparations for mark sort of?? anyways i hope you guys like it ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately
MARK LEE HAD TERRIBLE LUCK.
At this point in his life, it was almost set in stone. In some parallel universe, there was an eleventh commandment reinstating this. He had friends like Park Jisung to tell him that his misfortune wasn’t that bad, but following a chain of recent events (and walking into plenty of awkward moments), Mark concluded that not only was his luck complete shit, but his best friend was a complete liar, too.
These series of unfortunate events only worsened when Mark found out he was paired with you for a group project.
summary | lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.
characters | lee donghyuck x reader(f).
genres | fluff, romance, slice of life, strangers-to-lovers, meet-cute au, high school au, non-idol au.
warnings | profanity, me projecting my distaste for skinny jeans sorry hyuck ily, mentions of religion (hyuck is my fav church boy), he calls reader ‘princess’ :o like once tho lol, second-hand embarrassment,, mentions of jisung liking ive’s gaeul, not proofread so it’s probs all over the place sorry :P
word count | 5.5k.
37.5MHz | take my breath by nct dream ⋆ first love by sondia ⋆ lucky by exo.
it was time i had a more shy mc in my fics 💪💪 also this is me just projecting my dream meet-cute scenario that i always wish would happen during the damned winter lol!! ty all sm for waiting for this ep, i hope u enjoy ^^ ep.03 of my candy! miniseries, but it can be read on its own!
genre: song-fic, childhood friends to fwb to lovers to exes, fluff, smut/suggestive, angst | requested and inspired by she gets the flowers by beth mccarthy
summary: the person you shared every moment of your life with could never betray you, right? That was what she thought before Jaemin proved that he could turn from her soulmate to the biggest source of her pain.
warnings: mentioned drinking and smoking underage, smut, mostly suggestive, oral sex (f receiving, a bit more explicit), angst, no cheating but still feelings of betrayal, attempted suicide (not really, but just in case)
words: 6.855k
a/n: first of all, i'm incredibly sorry this took so long but i was going crazy trying to come up with a plot because the song led me to a plot similar to traitor so that's why it took so long. But I'm happy with the result and i hope you'll like it too. warning: probably it's even sadder than my other angst fics so prepare the tissues, i guess???
There’s something beautiful in growing up together and sharing every day of your life with somebody. It’s a type of bond that nothing in the world can replicate.
That was her relationship with Jaemin. She and Jaemin had shared their entire life together. It wasn’t like they had a choice when their mothers that were best friends for ages, casually ended up pregnant at the same time and gave birth to them only two days apart. Being raised side by side even if they weren’t related was something they couldn’t escape. And without realizing it, they became such a big part of each other’s life that living without each other was hard.
They did everything together. All the dumb things you have to do at least once in your life. All their first times. All their heartbreaks, and joys. There wasn’t a single moment they didn’t share.
Despite this, they were different. Jaemin wasn’t exactly a bad boy, not like the bullies type, at least, but he was the most reckless of the two. Always getting her in trouble, while she tried hard to still be the good girl she always was.
“Jaemin, this is dumb,” she said, trying to stop him from climbing the roof of the store. That was the first time he took her there, only seventeen, the perfect age to try dumb things they couldn’t do.
“Is it?” He asked, his hand reaching for hers to help her get up.
She sighed before briefly looking around, making sure that nobody could see them and then followed him.
“You’re so damn hard to convince sometimes,” he whispered, lips puffing out as he let out the smoke of the cigarette he had stolen from his dad’s jacket, head inclined enough so he could look at her. The chill breeze of October blowing on them.
“And you’re reckless,” she huffed, resting her head on her knees, looking in front of her, they could see a small part of the neighborhood from there, and maybe it was worth the risk.
“Here,” he said, handing her a bottle of soju and she pushed his hand away. “Oh, come on, that’s not dumb.”
“You know I get drunk too easily, I will kill myself trying to climb down again.”
Jaemin chuckled, shaking his head, before turning off the cigarette and drinking the alcohol instead.
“The things I do for you,” he joked when he was done, moving closer to her, wrapping a hand around her shoulders. Her head leaned in immediately, cheeks brushing against the blue jacket he was wearing.
“That’s because you love me.”
“Yeah, I do,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead.
And that was so normal for them that they never truly weighted the words they said to each other. The ‘I love yous’ didn’t mean anything, just like it didn’t mean how they always held each other’s hands when they walked side by side, and always called each other for help.
It was normal, from the crib to when they went to high school and still looked at each other with the same old eyes. It was fine because they both had their own adventures, and they didn’t need each other for that.
Until something wasn’t enough anymore. Until they started to realize they couldn’t find each other in other people. That their beds were always going to be cold if at their side it wasn’t them.
They had no idea how their first kiss happened, or what exactly lead them there. After a long day at Uni, once again on that rooftop with the breeze freezing them. Hesitant lips getting closer, and shy eyes looking into each other, silently asking each other if it was worth it.
When their lips touched their questions were answered. It was. It was worth putting on a line all their years of friendships.
But they had the bad habit of never calling things with a name. That was their relationship since they were kids. It worked without trying.
But they seemed to forget they weren’t five or ten anymore. They were grown-ups. They should’ve talked, should’ve put a name on it, and set some rules. Anything to don’t end up in ashes.
But they didn’t and that kiss was followed by another. This time not so shy or full of fear. Their hands moved freely on their bodies, touching each other in ways they never imagined before. But once again it stopped there, as much as they were pulled by this force, the fear of taking a treacherous path was high.
Until things took a different turn again.
“Wasn’t expecting you here,” Jaemin said, opening the door of the apartment he shared with his friends.
“I’m so tired,” she huffed, kissing him quickly and then falling down on his couch, throwing her bag next to her. “I have two essays to turn in and I have no idea when I’ll write them.”
“Maybe you could start now,” he proposed, pointing at the books on the coffee table. “We could study together.”
“I don’t want to study,” she replied, crossing her arms on her chest.
Jaemin sat next to her, his hand caressing her cheek, making her turn around in surprise.
“I can help you though,” she stuttered, gulping, wanting to pull away from him but at the same time she just wanted to crave more at his touch. “Would never want to come between your studies.”
“We can do something funnier,” he proposed, and only then she turned around, seeing his eyes locked on her lips.
“This is another one of your dumb ideas,” she whispered.
“Is it?” He asked, same old smirk on his face that then turned into a smile that made her melt.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, you know it,” she mumbled, lying, knowing she was lying. Because she wanted it, she wanted that to happen for such a long time.
“Just this time,” he whispered, breath fanning against her lips. “Just once.”
But it hadn’t been just once.
It had happened over and over again.
“Jaemin, fuck.” The loud music was muffled in his room as the party downstairs kept going on. But her mind wasn’t there, it was focused on Jaemin’s face buried between her legs and his hands wrapped around her thighs as he ate her out while she stood against the wall. Too eager to even wait of getting on the bed or undressing her completely.
“You taste so good,” he mumbled pressed against her wet flesh, nose teasing her clit while his lips and tongue worked perfectly to bring her over the edge so soon.
“I’m close,” she breathed out, fingers intertwining in his hair, pulling hard as the orgasm made her tremble.
“Need you,” Jaemin muttered as soon as he pulled away, licking his lips before dragging her body on his bed. Their clothes were on the floor in a second and Jaemin’s hands ran all over her body.
“Quit playing and just fuck me,” she urged, hips grinding against him.
“You’re so impatient,” he groaned before leaning over the bedside table to grab a condom, ripping the wrap and rolling it down his length.
“If you didn’t tease me all night, maybe,” she said, spreading her legs more, waiting for him to slip inside her. “Shit, so good.”
Moans and whimpers got lost in the night as the party went on downstairs without their care, too busy burning into each other’s flames and lying into ashes on the bed as what was going on between them grew bigger and bigger every day.
There’s something extremely painful about one-sided love. And it only gets worst when the person that gets you weak in the knees is your best friend.
She should’ve known it was a dumb idea. She should’ve stopped it before it even started but by now it was too late. She was too deep into that. And she was once again half naked in Jaemin’s bed, getting drunk in a pleasure that wasn’t enough to water the pain any longer.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she snapped, standing up, pushing his body away, and trying to look for her clothes again.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked, grabbing his boxer just to cover himself the quicker he could and reaching her.
She sighed, slipping on herself his shirt, lifting her head up to push down the tears. “No, I… it’s my fault,” she confessed, turning around again, looking for her pants but the tears in her eyes made it impossible for her to see. And the salty drops filled her eyes even more when she felt Jaemin’s arms wrap around her.
“Hey, calm down,” he whispered, turning her around, her head falling in the crook of his neck as she let him lull her, his hands caressing her back. “It’s alright, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” she mumbled through sobs. “I can’t keep having you like this without truly having you.”
Jaemin was surprised by her words and pulled away to stare at her face. “You mean the sex?”
She nodded, the palm of her hand wiping away her tears. “I thought my heart was safe but I love you. And I know you don’t love me back, I know this was just… just the easiest thing we could do but I – I love you so much. I’ve been loving you for too long without knowing,” she sobbed. “And I know you don’t feel the same –”
“Who said that?” Jaemin stopped her immediately.
“I know.”
“You know? And based on what?”
When she didn’t answer he shook his head. “You think I treat all my other friends the way I treat you? You think I stay up all night to study with somebody else? You think I prepare them tea? You think that if it was just sex I’d let you stay over every time and let you sleep on my chest? You think I’d make your breakfast? You think I’d let you borrow my clothes?”
“Isn’t this what we… isn’t this what we did even when we were just friends? How can I tear this apart?”
Jaemin sighed, nodding, “I don’t know…” he whispered. The lines of their relationship had always been blurry. All the years their friends told them they acted like a couple. All the years their family told them the same thing. All the times they wondered what they were. They simply never had the courage to say it out loud, but now that all the lines were crossed they couldn’t keep playing that game anymore.
“I feel good with you, and I love you,” Jaemin said. “I love you so much,” he replied, cupping her cheeks in his hand, and her heart skipped a beat at his words. “And if you love me back maybe we could give this a try?”
And she said yes. Of course, she did. She had been waiting for this moment for so long that she felt on cloud nine.
Jaemin, her best friend, the perfect man she always wanted to have at her side, was finally her boyfriend.
The perfect man.
That was what she thought.
That was what Jaemin was when he was her best friend.
And he was like that even for the first year they dated.
He was thoughtful, energetic, and responsible and the list of all the compliments she could give him could go on and on. He was the same Jaemin she used to know, the one she always loved, as a friend, as a lover.
And their story was going so well that they even started to look for a small apartment together when the second year of University ended and moved in before summer was over.
“Stop playing around, Nana,” she warned him, pointing the brush on his face, trying to squirm away from him.
“Come on, it’s just some paint,” he laughed, successfully staining her face with the light blue of their bedroom.
“What did you just do?” She glared at him before coloring his face too, making him laugh. “You want war and I’ll give it to you.”
And that was another afternoon spent playing around, paint ending everywhere but on the walls, leaving them lying on the floor breathless before they decided that it was better to wrap it up and go take a shower.
And the new house led to thousands of shopping dates to pick up the furniture, and everything else they needed. Long days running around ended in cozy nights spent together on their couch eating food while their place started to form around them, walls filling up, smelling and looking like them more and more with each passing day.
The last two years of University passed like that, in their place, with their usual routine, with new memories and joys. Inviting friends over, wasting Saturdays doing nothing but cuddling up in their living room, or taking care of the plants that filled their home.
They slept and woke up, looking at each other, always more sure that they were meant to be each other’s future.
Until something broke.
Jaemin was distant.
It wasn't a clear break, one day the sweetest, most loving person ever and the next one a cold, heartless one. It was slow, like the grains of sanding passing from one side to another of an hourglass. Slipping out of her hands just like sand.
Every time she tried to plan something, he always came up with something he had to do. She didn’t want to call them excuses, but at this point, she couldn’t name them in any other way.
And it wasn’t only that, it looked like he had stopped paying her attention at all, whether she wanted it for dumb reasons or even serious ones.
“We have to call the landlord,” she reminded him from the kitchen, turning around to see that he was once again on the couch, doing nothing on the phone.
“Jaemin,” she called him, leaning against the door frame, glaring at him.
“Yeah? You wanted me?”
“I was talking to you,” she replied.
“I wasn’t listening,” he mumbled, putting the phone away.
“Yeah, I can see it,” she sighed, turning around again.
“What did you want?” He asked, and even if she didn’t turn around she knew he was in the kitchen too.
“Nothing, I can do it myself.”
Jaemin huffed, “so you can be mad at me because I didn’t do it?”
She chuckled. “You never do what I ask you do.”
“Here we go again,” he replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
“Yes, I’ll say it again because we can’t keep going on like this. We have to call the landlord because he’s raising the rent of this house again. Our place. I don’t know if you get it that you live here, too.”
“I know. I’ll call him. You think that will make him stop? It’s been two years since we live here, and he does it every time.”
“You didn’t even answer your mother about Sunday.”
“Do you really want to go there?”
She sighed, studying his face with a shocked expression. “It’s your mom? And it’s to spend time together.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t? On Sunday?”
“I have... a thing to do…”
“A thing? And what is that?” She tilted her head, trying to meet his gaze but Jaemin was avoiding it.
“Need to help Renjun with something. Boring things you don’t care about,” he cut short, and she furrowed, but she had no strength to dig deeper and maybe end up in a fight.
They fought too often lately. They had started to bicker over the smallest things, screaming at each other, drifting away, and crying over spilled milk. And that was fucking her up.
She felt like she couldn’t keep going on like this, but every time she tried to talk with him, Jaemin always slipped from her fingers or she couldn’t find the mental energy to go all the way.
It was just a moment. It surely had to be like that. Maybe it was the stress from work, or those normal crises couples went through.
But to Jaemin it wasn’t a moment.
“I want to break up.”
And then those words arrived. They hit her like a thunder in the middle of a storm. While sitting in front of each other at the table of their house he was finding the bravery to put an end to them.
“I can’t keep lying to myself anymore,” Jaemin confessed, eyes lowering because he couldn’t stand looking into hers. His best friends. The person he learned to walk with. The person he almost shared his birthday with. The person that saw him at his lowest. “I think I mistook the habit of having you by my side for love.”
Her whole world fell apart. She had so many things to say, questions to ask, but not a sound could come out of her mouth.
“I don’t love you. I’m not even sure I ever did. Not like this, at least. Not like you want me to love you.”
Some moments of silence passed after his confession as they stared into each other’s eyes. Jaemin trying to imagine a reaction, hoping it was going to be different from the ones he pictured while preparing for this. Her trying to see a glimpse of a joke, a terrible and cruel one, but a joke.
But she knew him too well and his eyes, his beautiful, once warm, brown eyes there was no sign of a joke. He meant it. Jaemin meant every word.
“You never loved me?” She asked, voice trembling, eyes watery.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? You’re telling me I just wasted more than two years of my life by your side and you don’t know?”
“It’s not my fault, I… I thought I did before I met someone else and maybe… maybe this is not love. My heart doesn’t beat the same. I don’t know.”
“So there’s also somebody else!” She screamed. “After all that I gave up for you! You couldn’t realize this a little bit earlier? Before I gave up my job in London for you? Before I put all my savings in this place for us to share? Before I gave up going to New York for the master?”
Jaemin didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at her. He couldn’t stand the look on her face, he was used to wiping it away, to kiss it away, but now he was the one that caused it.
“I… fuck,” she cursed, throwing her head back to push back tears. “I could’ve had so much more and I never did all because of you, because I thought I had love and you’re telling me all these years had been a lie? I ruined my life for you and you can’t even love me. No, you can’t even look at me while you’re telling me this big news.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes meeting her just for a split second.
“Sure, this is going to fix everything,” she chuckled bitterly. “Tell me what she has that I don’t!”
“Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do this? Seriously? I want to know. I deserve to know because you… you can’t just leave me like this.”
“I’m not leaving like this,” he tried to explain. “I thought about it for so long.”
“Why am I so hard to love?” She cried, but it was more of a thought to herself, getting up to walk back and forth because she felt all the emotions pile up and she needed to let them go somehow.
“You are not hard to love. I love you, just not like that.”
“Just shut the fuck up! I don’t care how you love me, I don’t want you to love me like that. Shut up!” Her whole body was shaking, tears flooding down her face, her head was about to explode, and probably her heart too.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying it, stop it!”
Jaemin sighed, he never imagine it would come to this. Honestly, he had no idea how else she could’ve reacted, but there must’ve been a good side to this, right? “I don’t know when it happened, I just realized it now. Isn’t it better like this? It’s over now and we can both move on.”
“Sure,” she replied, holding in a bitter chuckle. “It’s so easy for you. She’s already waiting at home, right? Waiting for you, being everything you always wanted. Something I will never be.”
“She doesn’t know. There’s nothing going on between us.”
“I hope she makes you happy,” she replied, eyes closing so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks faster while her hand rested against the wall, trying to calm her breathing down. “I hope her eyes look better than they shine. I hope her lips taste sweeter than mine. I hope she looks prettier when she cries. I hope she won’t be so hard to handle.”
Jaemin walked toward her, trying to hold her in his arms but she glared at him and it was enough to make him take a step back.
“Leave,” she only whispered, taking a deep breath, trying to don’t pay attention to the tears that were making her look more and more pathetic. “You don’t want me, Jaemin. And I can’t change your mind. I can’t force you here. I already ruined enough of your life with this.”
“You didn’t ruin my life, please. You will always be my best friend.”
She couldn’t hold in the loud sob that rolled out of her mouth when he said that and her body crashed against the wall again.
“I hate you so much,” she screamed, shaking and sniffling. “You — you should’ve told me this so long ago. I hate you so much,” she repeated, bending and holding her stomach, wishing she knew a way to make this pain stop. “I would’ve rather lost the sex with you than — than be — ugh,” she sobbed, completely falling on the floor.
Jaemin was frozen, his heart was broken too. He would’ve never wanted to be the reason for her tears, or for her pain, especially for this pain. Seeing her body shake, her face a mess of tears and mascara and her chest panting uncontrollably as she gasped for air.
“I didn’t do this on purpose,” he whispered because he had no idea what to tell her. How to make her believe that if he made up his feelings before he would’ve told her sooner.
“I know,” she replied, not looking at him. “But… leave, please. I can’t — I can’t do this… I can’t be this close to you. I — I… Leave.”
And he did, walking to their bedroom he grabbed some of his things for the night and left. He tried to meet her eyes before closing the door behind him, but she was huddled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably and the only thing he could do after turning her in that state, was to leave her some space.
When the sound of the door closing reached her ears, she started crying louder, fingers clenching too hard around her hair and pulling too much, trying to feel some physical pain because the emotional one was unbearable.
That wasn’t fair.
That was nothing of what she had planned for the night, or for the weekend, or for their lives.
And she couldn’t even think why she wasn’t enough, why he didn’t cast her in the show of his life forever. She could only think about all the wasted times and how now she could’ve been anywhere else in the world, with a job that made her ten times happier, with somebody that truly loved her and still with Jaemin at his side, still her childhood best friend, still the little teenage boy that made her laugh, still the college pal that spent nights up with her.
But Jaemin now turned into a nightmare. He was somebody that she didn’t know.
Jaemin was the source of her biggest pain and that was a kind of hurt she didn’t know how to deal with.
She felt sick.
Sick to the stomach.
So, still crying, and sobbing, she crawled on the floor, tired body making its way to the bathroom, feeling like she was carrying around a ton too heavy to handle. And she threw up, everything she could’ve, and finding the strength to lift her hand and flush was hard. Just like it was to get up when her heart and stomach hurt so much and she felt like she could barely breathe.
“I’m so pathetic,” she whispered through sobs while she laid curled up on the floor, thinking it couldn’t be possible to react that way, that a break-up couldn’t be the end of the world, that a betrayal like this couldn’t be the end of the world. And yet it felt exactly like that. And she had no strength to get up or drag her body to the bed, their bed, so she fell asleep there, exhausted, heartbroken, and humiliated.
It wasn’t going to be the end of the world.
But right there, it felt like the end of the universe.
Dealing with what came after hadn’t been easy. Seeing Jaemin’s face again hadn’t been easy. But that still was his place, and his friends couldn’t just make room for him in their houses out of nowhere. So they still had to share their everyday life for a week before Renjun found a way to let him squeeze into his house, a temporary solution to give him time to find a new place.
But dealing with his absence wasn’t easy either. Every day when she came home the house was a little emptier. All the things they bought together. All the things she had seen in his room at his parent’s place, then in his college room, and now here. Gone. Gone just like him.
Jaemin had tried to talk to her several times, but she never answered, unless it was really necessary, and when she did the only words were ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or small phrases.
She was angry. Furious even. So much she feared she was going to go insane. Because the pain was pressing her to the floor and she felt like she was about to explode. But that wasn’t her, that was a part of her that was hurt and devastated. And as much as Jaemin deserved it, she didn’t want to regret any dumb action, so she took a step back. Hoping he was going to leave her alone as soon as possible and then she would’ve healed by herself.
And it took her at least one month to get back on her feet. She didn’t even feel pain, she felt empty, and for some reason, it was worst. She had no emotions to deal with, to feel and then analyze, no root of a pain to reach to break it apart.
She spent her evenings sitting on a corner of the sofa, looking at the wall, feeling like she was going insane. Her friends tried to make her go out, get her mind off of it, but she had no strength. She was falling into a withdrawal.
“What is this?” She asked her mother while she went through the mail, an envelope that was too elegant to be normal mail catching her eyes. She had started to come back to her parent’s house during the weekend to don’t feel so lonely because that place screamed Jaemin from every corner and she couldn’t deal with it. During the week she was too wrecked from work to let him drag her down, but the weekends were the worst.
“What, honey? It must be the usual stuff,” her mother replied not even turning around, too busy crocheting a blanket.
She wanted to leave it there, but something inside her told her to open it.
“Are you kidding me?” She whispered, blinking her eyes twice to make sure she wasn’t going insane. “He’s getting married?” Her eyes were still on that piece of paper with her name written on it. “He’s getting married and he invited me?”
When her eyes fell on her mother her heart broke even more. “You — you knew?” the words were shaking coming out of her mouth and her eyes got wetter.
“Honey, I’m —”
“Don’t call me honey,” she warned her sternly, feeling like that pet name was mocking her even more. “You knew?”
“I’m still friends with his mom, you know what’s between us, of course, I did,” she confessed, placing the wool next down on the armchair and walking toward her daughter but she stepped back. “I wasn’t planning on giving it to you.”
“Why did he invite me? Does he think — does he think we can still be friends after all the pain he caused to me?” Her back met the wall and it was getting harder to breathe.
He was getting married.
Na Jaemin, her best friend for life, her first love, her first real relationship, the one she gave up so much for, was getting married two months after they broke up.
“His mother did the invitations. You know it’s hard for us to see you like this. We just wish you would solve this.”
“Solve this?” She almost screamed, staring at her mother in disbelief. “Solve what? The broken heart he threw to the ground and stepped on? I gave him my life, mom, I did things for him — I… I would’ve died for him and he tells me he never loved me. These past three years had been a lie, he was with me just because I was there, ready to crawl at his side, I was just a habit he was too afraid to lose and he had to tie me to him somehow until I became too much and he kicked me out of his life. How can I go past this? Why do I always have to be the one that lets people run over her?”
“I didn’t mean that, but you two have been through so much. I don’t understand how —”
“Yeah, you don’t understand,” she replied bitterly before grabbing her things and walking out of the house, not listening to her mother begging to make her stay.
She had no idea how she made it home with the tears fogging her eyes and her heart split into million pieces more than it already was. But once she crossed the door she let out the most broken scream of her life, bending in two in front of the door, letting her body fall on the floor, screaming and crying, regretting all her life choices, wondering how the person she trusted the most in the whole world could’ve turned into her biggest enemy.
Jaemin, the one that had her back when she did something wrong. The one that helped her stood up every time she fell. The one that kissed the pain away when she fell off the bike or from the swing. Her soulmate had backstabbed her, over and over again.
“I don’t deserve this,” she shouted, resting her back against the hard door, head rolled back as she tried to let her lungs breathe in more air because she felt like she was dying. “I don’t deserve all this pain.”
But she had nobody to talk to, nobody was there to hug her or calm her down, nobody to whisper in her ears that eventually, one day, everything would’ve been better.
Nobody was there to tell her that one day she would’ve got that love she deserved.
Because the love she deserved was reserved for somebody else.
And she shouldn’t have added more pain to her suffering, but her hands quickly reached for her phone and opened Instagram.
And there they were.
“Forever and always” as the caption of their hands, two beautiful rings on their fingers. And swiping left another picture, their cheeks pressed against each other, smiling widely as the wind blew the hair in front of their faces.
The exact picture she had of them on her lock screen, but now that she thought about it, after months of thinking that was one of their best photos, she realized that Jaemin’s cheek wasn’t so close to hers.
And there were so many posts on Instagram, both of their feeds were full of each other with cheesy captions and emojis. Things he never, ever did for her.
She broke down again, feeling her heart twist in her ribcage.
She had spent months trying to convince herself that Jaemin had fallen out of love in the last months. That it had happened, that it was just bad luck and they weren’t meant to last.
But looking back at it now, thinking about how easily he had moved on and what kind of love he was reserving for her, the sad truth crashed her to the ground.
Jaemin had never fallen in love with her.
They weren’t supposed to meet again, but she couldn’t say ‘no’ when her mother invited her to the usual spring party she threw the first week of April.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you here,” Jaemin mumbled when they crashed against each other. “I was looking for a thing in my… my jacket,” he explained since they were both in the guest room.
She was frozen. She wanted to leave. She should’ve left because she came there mainly to avoid him. She couldn’t stand seeing him and her all over each other, their hands intertwined, his lips always on her cheeks or lips, his fingers gently grazing her hair back.
“Are you okay?” He asked when tears started streaming down her face. It had been months since he had last seen her and he never imagined she was doing this badly, she barely looked like herself anymore.
She didn’t even notice she had started crying, it happened so often lately that she didn’t even pay attention to it anymore.
“Never been better,” she replied sarcastically, but her feet still couldn’t find the strength to move past him and walk out.
“I didn’t know about what my mom did, I would’ve stopped her,” he said.
She chuckled bitterly. “You think that the problem is being invited? You think that the mere fact of you marrying someone else after two months of our break up isn’t heartbreaking enough?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
She nodded. “I know, I know. We never want to hurt others, and just because it wasn’t on purpose the others shouldn’t feel hurt or betrayed, right? It’s always an honest mistake. Oops, I slipped. Oops, I didn’t do it on purpose. I casually stuck ten knives in your chest but I never thought you would bleed and die on the floor, please, forgive me.” Her tone wasn’t high but bitter, full of a type of anger Jaemin never heard before.
“Let’s not do this right now,” Jaemin said. “There are people.”
“Yeah, you care so much about what they might think. You don’t even care about all the pain you put me through. How much this hurt and how much you, your mother and mine are slapping your happiness at my expense on my face.”
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
“I shouldn’t have? She’s my mom. This is my parents’ house. Not yours. You should’ve been thoughtful enough to say no when she invited you, to take your fucking distances from my family but no, this is so much better. You love seeing me miserable. You love knowing I’m not getting over you, that for me there will never be getting over you. Probably you get off to my pain.”
“Don’t say things that are not true. I didn’t know you were coming, I wouldn’t have come.”
“I don’t even get how my mom let her in, why she’s so supportive of you as if… as if you’re not the reasons I’m struggling to make it to the next day. Why does nobody care about me? Why is she still all over you? Why can’t she see it? Why can’t she realize you’re not the kind, little boy I used to spend my morning, afternoon and evening with?”
“She’s just happy for me…”
“Right, you’re happy, your family is happy. She’s happy, happier than I’ve ever been. You found your person, and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I’m so happy about it. Congratulation for being happy, for finding love, for — fuck,” she cursed. “I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy that she’s getting all the love I deserved to have.”
“Don’t do this.”
“No, I’m truly happy. I’m so happy that she gets the flowers, the boxes of chocolate, the nights out to stargaze, the marriage proposal, the new house, maybe even a dog or a child.”
“Are you mad because I love her?”
“I’m mad because she gets the love I deserved. The love that I gave you.” It was hard to say it out loud and in front of him but she was so mad, so frustrated that everybody there acted as if she was the problem or the overdramatic one.
“She gets the posts made about her, she gets the flowers, she gets a perfect love that you never gave to me. You never loved me. All these years were a fucking lie, Jaemin. You lied to me. I gave you my everything. I was so open to you, I showed you my true colors and what I got back? A fucking play. You were playing a part. I have no idea who I had by my side in the last three years. And I’ve known you before we could even talk.”
“I’m sorry but I can’t… I can’t choose who I love.”
“I don’t care. I got excuses, Jaemin. You got to use this, to use me. You left me in the dust with nothing and then walked away as if it was nothing. As if I was nothing,” she screamed, fist clenching around his shirt before letting go because she couldn’t stand to stay this close to him.
“Was I too hard to handle? Was I too emotionally unstable? What was wrong with me that — that didn’t make you love me? Why don’t you love me? Why don’t you want me?”
“Because you’re not her,” Jaemin snapped, their eyes locking into each other, hearts breaking again. Hers because she never imagined he could hurt her that bad. Again. Over the same wound. Healing and bleeding. Closing and ripping open. And his because he never wanted to hurt her that bad. Jaemin truly didn’t want this to end like this. And he couldn’t stand the emptiness he could see in her eyes as they stared into his and felt like nothing of what they used to feel.
They weren’t home anymore. And this was the cruellest reminder.
Her feet moved back, heels almost dripping on the floor and lips shaking. She gulped, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, nodding as she felt the air dim in her lungs again.
“You’re right,” she whispered, looking through the clothes to grab her jacket before putting it on and storming outside.
Jaemin should’ve let her go but he knew that when she acted like this she was out of herself.
“Where are you going? It’s dangerous to drive like this,” he screamed, running after her, cursing because he didn’t want to make a scene but he still cared about her.
“Why do you act like you care? You don’t give a damn about me. Just — just stop this,” she replied, slamming the front door, walking fast to her car, falling apart when she turned around and he wasn’t there. His fiancée had stopped him, probably asking what was going on and he was lying, coming up with something that wasn’t related to her, because she wasn’t worth a fight between him and the love of his life, and he walked back to the garden, once again forgetting about her.
Driving in those conditions was a terrible idea, but she wanted to go home and the idea of death didn’t sound so sad or scary.
Dying for love was such a dumb thing.
But she couldn’t keep her eyes on the road, her hands couldn’t control the wheel, shaking too hard. And when she lost control, when the car ran off the road and death grazed her, she wondered if it went in another way, if destiny wouldn’t have been so gentle to keep her alive if she would’ve gotten the flowers on her tombstones.
But she wasn’t underground, she was alive, hurt, next to her car, crying her eyes out to a love that was never meant to be.
She couldn’t know what would’ve happened if things went the other way. But of one thing, she was sure.
Someone else was getting the flowers and would’ve always got them.
And that someone, wasn’t her.
I hope you liked it! Please let me know with comments, reblogs or asks!!
✩ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING | mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”
Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
“Want your usual?”
“Yes, please!”
However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—
“WATCH OUT!”
With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”
“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.
“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”
You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”
“How would I know how to reach out to you?”
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”
“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.
“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”
Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.
“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”
When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
“Your head good though?”
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again.
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?
Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”
“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”
“Okay, okay.”
Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”
The camera’s now on Mark’s face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?
“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.
But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow.
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, it’s game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—
And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.
But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”
His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”
He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”
“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.
Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”
“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”
“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”
“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.
You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”
“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”
“You don’t owe me anything—”
“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market.
“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”
“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”
“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”
Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”
“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually.
“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.
“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.
“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”
After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.
“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
“Ready?”
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”
“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”
“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”
The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
“Neither do I.”
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
“Mark, please, just—”
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
“Huh?”
“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”
“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
“You close?”
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”
“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”
You hesitate with closed eyes.
“Could I... ride your arm?”
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”
“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”
“Yeah?”
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
“This okay still?” you breathe.
“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
“Oh, God,” Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”
It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”
“Oh, my God, Chenle...”
“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? He's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”
“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”
“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”
“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
“And you have me,” you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee haechan x oc ; na jaemin x oc
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: fluff, smut, childhood best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, exes to lovers, lovers to exes
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jaemin arrives in korea, and he and hyejin immediately get along. But while he tries to settle in, new doubts creep into his mind, keeping him hooked on her relationship with haechan more than he should.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: smut, oral s*x (f receiving), unprotected s*x
𝐖𝐂: +5k
𝐀/𝐍: the second chapter is here. things are getting more interesting, so i hope you'll like it! feedback means the world, whether it's a comment, a reblog (it helps to boost the fic so more people can see it), or an ask, please send your thoughts! enjoy ♡
When Friday came, Hyejin had completely forgotten about this new friend, honestly, she couldn’t care much about him. Between her job and other things assaulting her mind, worrying about whoever was going to live with Haechan was the last thought in her mind. They were already friends, so he couldn’t be a bad person, but did she care about knowing him? Not really.
But maybe he would’ve been a good thing. If Haechan decided to go back to being friends with Zoya, she would’ve visited his place, met his roommate, fell for him, and Hyejin could sleep at night without the lingering fear of Zoya stealing her boyfriend.
To be honest, Hyejin hated the word ‘stealing’, people aren’t objects, you can’t steal them, but you can draw them to you, and if you know the power you have over them, maybe the wiser choice would be to leave them alone, especially if you already did it once and hurt them.
But even with that fantasy of setting the new boy up with Zoya, Hyejin still didn’t remember that he was already home when she barged inside Haechan’s place as if it was her own.
“Honey!” The brown-haired screamed, closing the door with a loud bang as she pushed it close with her feet, “I’m home. Brought grocery.”
“Oh, I thought it was just two of us, here.” A male voice echoed through the place. A tall man with dyed dark blonde hair was standing in front of her, dressed in casual clothes, with a rather surprised expression on his handsome face.
“Shit!” She screamed, bags full of stuff almost falling to the ground if only the stranger didn’t grab them promptly. When their eyes met, she could feel her heart throb in her chest, the eggs, God, the eggs, what if they broke anyway?
“Are you okay?” The man questioned, standing up, doing the favour of still keeping the bags in his arms that were surely stronger than hers.
She nodded, shaking her head and brushing her hair back while a look of panic still painted her face. “The eggs.”
“The eggs?” His brows raised in perplexity as his head tilted to the side.
“Yeah, can you see if the eggs broke? I wanted to make a cake and now no cake, and no ramen too with no eggs.”
The blonde stared at her for a few seconds, studying her eyes and the nervous movements of her fingers before he coughed and shook his head. “I’m sure they’re fine,” he voiced, walking to the kitchen followed by her.
“I think you crashed them,” she said, lightly jumping up and down on her tiptoes by his side, apprehensively waiting for him to find the containers with the eggs.
“I think you scare yourself too easily,” he commented with a hint of sarcasm in his husky voice.
“Excuse me?”
The man chuckled, and a beautiful, breathtaking, smile appeared on his face. “Didn’t you know I was coming? If you live here, you surely agreed to me moving in, right? You know about me?” He asked while his voice broke into a high-pitched tone full of worries with each question. Haechan couldn’t be so damn dumb to don’t warn his roommate, right?
“Oh! Oh, shit, it’s you! Yeah, I know about you, you slipped my mind, I’m sorry, but yeah, yeah,” she blurted out, running a hand in her hair before cupping her face. Why was she so forgetful? And why she couldn’t avoid making a fool of herself for once?
“Great,” he smiled, letting out a breath of relief before grinning at her antics. “And I’ll pay for the eggs if they’re broken.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Hyejin reassured, moving her hand in a dismissive move. “And I don’t live here, by the way.”
“Oh,” he whispered while he was still intent on placing everything on the table to find the eggs and make sure they weren’t crushed. “You… don’t?”
“No, I’m Haechan’s girlfriend, I just grocery-shopped for me and, while I was there, I thought about doing it also for him.” She quirked a brow when she saw his reaction to her words. Was that a weird thing to do? It was just a nice gesture, and to her, it was pretty normal, just like ten thousand other things she would do in his place.
“You’re nice…?” He said, letting the phrase hang, waiting for her to fill him in about her name.
“Hyejin,” she greeted with a bright smile that turned into a shy laugh when she realized they had been talking for so long and did everything but introduce each other. “You?”
“Jaemin, Na Jaemin, for my friends Nana,” he greeted, his 32 teeth smile on his face again.
“Nana, that’s pretty,” she said. “So, do you mind helping me?”
Jaemin smiled and then nodded. “The least I can do after I almost gave you a heart attack for your eggs.”
“Wow, you already became friends,” Haechan exclaimed, entering the kitchen and seeing how close Hyejin and Jaemin were already, chatting about something he couldn’t grasp.
“He helped with the food. I passed by the mall and thought of you. You would die without me,” she finished jokingly, leaving Jaemin’s side to reach Haechan, and wrapping her arms around his shoulders before kissing him gently. “Missed you.”
“It was a tough week,” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss, and walking around the table to see what was left in the bags. “Bought some things,” he joked.
“You would starve without me,” she said. “Don’t have to thank me, by the way.”
Haechan rolled his eyes and grabbed a bag of his favourite biscuits before walking back to her. “Thanks,” he said, doing pouty lips. “How much do I owe you?”
“I don’t remember, we can settle it later. Or I could gift this to you, a welcome gift for the new boy,” Hyejin said, turning to Jaemin that was staring at them with an expression she couldn’t name. But he only smiled before looking away when their eyes met.
“Whatever you prefer,” Haechan shrugged, bringing her attention back to him, “by the way, I’m going to the skate park with Jeno, are you coming?”
Her eyes darkened and a frown formed on her face. “But, we were supposed to hang out?”
“I know, babe, but…” he sighed, “I forgot that I promised to him and Yangyang before I promised it to you.”
She sighed but nodded without complaining further. “It’s fine, you had a long week with the moving in and then your job,” her lips curled in a smile and her hand lifted to caress his cheeks. “Have fun and don’t hurt yourself like last time.”
Haechan chuckled. “It was a mistake and it was Yangyang’s fault.”
She raised a brow and then laughed. “Sure, whatever. Can we eat together, though?”
“Sure, I’ll be home before 7. If you want, I can grab something while coming back.”
“No, I’ll cook something.”
“Okay, bye,” he said, waving to them and leaving the house.
When Haechan left, silence filled the room, and Hyejin wouldn’t have found it nerve-wracking if it only wasn’t for Jaemin’s persistent gaze on her.
“Excuse me, everything alright?”
Jaemin didn’t comprehend she was talking to him right away and hesitated before answering in a mumble, “yeah, yeah, I was just… thinking.”
“Oh, you wanted to be alone?”
“What?” He asked, brows furrowing. “No, no, I can’t kick you out of the house,” he said, words followed by a light laugh, “not that I would. I have no reasons; you are so nice.”
Hyejin’s eyes crinkled up and a small dimple poked her right cheek while a whispered thanks slurred from her lips. “You were thinking about what? If you want to tell me.”
“No, it’s nothing,” he shrugged, leaning against the kitchen counter and watching as she moved around as if that was her place, cleaning up as if it was her duty, and sure, Jaemin knew nothing about them and their dynamics but something about everything felt off. Maybe it was the jet lag, or the Korean air after years of America, yes, it had to be that.
Her soft giggle brought him back to earth. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” she said. “Are you tired?”
“Do I look that horrible?”
She shook her head while she folded the bags and then placed them under the sink, ready to be used again. “You look shaken. Is your room already set up?”
Jaemin shrugged. “Partially, the truck with most of my things got lost and I have no idea when I will have my piano, my guitar, and my bed.”
She gasped, signalling him to follow her on the couch. “Your bed?”
“Yep, and while you’re here,” he coughed, “did you and Hyuck have plans for a spicy night or can I sleep with him tonight?”
Hyejin laughed and shook her head. “I’m sorry but that’s hilarious.”
“My tragedy it’s hilarious? I spent years giving that mattress my shape, if I don’t get it by tomorrow, I will cry.”
His voice and expression only made her laugh more, to the point of tears. “Sorry, it was bad luck, but the good news is you can sleep with my boyfriend.”
“Great, I hope he stopped kicking with time.”
She chuckled. “He doesn’t kick me when we sleep together.”
“So, you’re sure you won’t hate me? He already cancelled plans with you today.”
“No, don’t worry, I’m used to it,” she said light-heartedly but then her expression changed when she saw Jaemin’s furrowed eyes.
“You’re used to it?”
“Yeah, you have no ideas how many times Haechan says we will do something and then forgets about it or changes it to something else like staying at home or… staying at home.”
While her voice was light and playful, Jaemin didn’t find it so funny but, once again, it had been years he had been with Haechan so maybe he was like this with everybody, maybe he simply changed and also she seemed fine with it, so who was he to judge?
“What about you? I’ve been friends with Hyuck since we were crawling, but I can’t remember you.”
“Do you know all his friends?”
“Mostly,” she said, bringing her knees to the couch and turning to the side to look at him better.
“I used to travel a lot, so probably that’s why you don’t know me. Also, I was his friend from his grandparents’ town, that’s where we met.”
“Oh, yeah, it makes sense,” she said. “And why are you here now?”
“Studied in America and then decided to come back here to see if Korea had something magical for my future, we’ll see if this will be the dumbest idea I’ve ever made or the best.”
She chuckled, eyes softening. “Are you afraid?”
Jaemin sighed, rubbing his neck. “Aren’t we all? Shouldn’t we? Fear is not necessarily bad, right?”
Hyejin hummed. “Well, I’m not sure.”
“What is it?”
She chuckled nervously. “The future.”
“Oh, if you look at it that way, it is scary.”
“Yeah, but I can’t find a job. I mean I have a job, I work in a library and I managed to create a small book club every Tuesday with adults and another on Friday dedicated to little kids, but my art degree has led me nowhere. I’m losing my passion for painting, I don’t have time for painting, I feel like a failure because my parents warned me about it,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, shit, that’s not what I wanted to show you of me.” Not even Haechan wanted to listen to her rant most of the time, why would a stranger be okay with it?
“No, keep going,” he reassured her, touching her hand, stopping her nervous movements, and unconsciously rubbing his thumb on her palm. “I love listening.”
She gulped, briefly looked at their hands and his eyes, and then went on. “I fear I won’t find my place in this world, and I know I’m only 22 and I have time, but… everything spins around so fast, everyone seems better than you, at everything, and… it sucks.”
Jaemin chuckled, “It sucks.”
“Are you making fun of me?” She huffed, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms.
“No, I agree. It sucks. But I’m not sure you want to listen to my talks against capitalism and its damages to people and the environment or other talks about economies and how humans are not made for this stressful, time-ticking life and how at this point it’s just surviving and not living, right?”
A smile spread on her face, cheeks heating up. “Maybe one day, I’d love to listen.”
“One day,” Jaemin smiled widely, perfect white teeth in view and eyes full of a hopeful warmth. “Now, any other fears?”
Haechan.
It lingered in her brain. All the fears about their future. How everything she dreamed of seemed to be secondary to him. How the future she pictured for them seemed so different from the drawing he had in mind. Incompatible. And somehow, they always found a way to never talk about it.
“Nothing,” she whispered, swallowing the gulp in her chest. “Just that.”
“Great,” he beamed. “I can tell you one thing my grandma said to me, you have a place in this world, you just have to find it, but you have it, and one day, you will discover it, get comfortable in it, and you’ll realize that everything you had to face had led you to the highest place in your life.”
She swiftly wiped away a tear and smiled. “Thanks, I will try to remember it when I have my lowest moment. Want to help me think about something for dinner?”
“Sure, I love cooking!”
“Really? I love it too!”
Hyejin had no idea if Jaemin would’ve been a perfect match for Zoya, but for now, that thought didn’t cross her mind, for now, it only looked like she could’ve found a new amazing friend, and that was something that had been missing for a while in her life.
“What do you mean boiled chicken with no seasoning?” Hyejin asked speechless, stirring the food in the pot while Jaemin finished setting the table.
“I’m not kidding, that’s when I learnt to never accept invites at other people’s houses,” he laughed, but the thought of that dinner sent shivers down his spine.
“Well, you’ll eat well here,” she promised.
“Because you are the chef of the house?”
She grinned, humming after tasting the food. “Most of the time.”
“Wait, do you live here?”
She shook her head. “Nope, but we’re both very busy and I try to spend more time as possible with him. And I love this made-up sense of domestic life I dream to have one day.”
“And he never comes to your place?” Jaemin didn’t want to pry, but since he arrived there, Haechan didn’t talk about her as much as she talked about him. He wasn’t even sure his friend told him he had a girlfriend. And in the last few hours, he got to see that she acted like a wife.
“Not as much as I am here, but if you don’t want me around, we can —”
“No,” Jaemin stopped her instantly. “You care about him… a lot, it’s nice.”
Her face heated up and she looked away. “Is it so evident?”
“Mhh, yes?”
“What’s so evident?” Another voice asked.
“Haechan!” She exclaimed, rushing to the kitchen door to hug him.
“Babe,” he groaned, pulling back, “I’m all sweaty.”
“I don’t care,” she said, hugging him anyway. “I missed you,” she pouted, cupping his face before bringing her lips to his.
“Missed you too,” he smiled, leaving a small peck on her lips before looking behind her to stare at the pots. “Mhh, it smells delicious here, is it all from you?”
She scoffed, flicking her ponytail in a bragging motion. “It’s always me.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, without you I’d be dead,” he laughed. “I’ll go take a quick shower and then we can eat, alright?”
“Yes, we’ll wait for you.”
Jaemin coughed. “You don’t really come here every day to feed him?”
“Oh my god, why do you say it like that?” She laughed but Jaemin’s serious face made her stop another time. “I’m not a maid.”
“I know, but…”
“I just love cooking, and my roommates usually have different shifts, so they are home later than me, and I’d rather eat with my boyfriend than alone.”
Jaemin hummed, lips pressed together as he helped with the other two pots and brought them to the table.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable with me around?”
“Yes, I told you, I like you. I mean, I don’t know you much but… I think we get alone, right? At least for now.”
Hyejin nodded. “I like you too, but if anything makes you uncomfortable don’t be afraid of talking to me.”
“Yes, sure.” Jaemin smiled warmly, grabbing even the last pan and setting it on the table before placing a hand on her shoulder. “But I don’t think you’ll ever make me uncomfortable.”
“Jaem, it’s not possible you don’t remember her. Come on, I had a fake phone with her photo on it and I used to always be on call with her, you thought I was crazy and I made her up,” Haechan said. It was mid-dinner, and after talks and talks, the topic focused on their childhood and how strange it was Hyejin and Jaemin didn’t meet before when they were so close with Haechan.
“Now that I think about it, I remember him talking about you,” Jaemin said, pointing a finger at her. “He really looked insane, and you seemed too perfect from his talks so I thought he made you up and that photo was cut out of a journal or something.”
Hyejin laughed. “Too perfect? So you really loved me all along?”
Haechan gulped, eyes dimming a bit of their happy light, but smile still pulled in a line. “I guess.” He wasn’t sure it was love back then, not like what they shared now, at least. They were each other’s half since the start, always there for each other, in the good and bad, and he truly wouldn’t have survived without her, but when he found out how she loved him all along, he felt that what he always felt for her wasn’t enough.
“Wait, you’re not dating since forever?” Jaemin asked, bringing him back on earth, and making her blush brightly.
“We were kids,” Haechan huffed, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, but you’ve dating for a while, now, right? At least until high school, you used to talk about your girlfriend back then, you were head over heels just as you are now.” Jaemin hyped tone didn’t meet the energy that fell in the room, time freezing and awkward fits of cough coming from Hyejin’s mouth.
“I wasn’t dating her in high school… well, we started to date during the last year, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you about her,” Haechan said awkwardly, and Jaemin’s face filled with sorrow.
“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry, I just… I made assumptions and I made them wrong,” he tried to joke about it, hoping it would ease the tension, and it worked, making Hyejin giggle and tell him to not worry with a wave of the hand.
“It’s fine, our story is weird,” she explained, but her mind was going down a completely different path. She wasn’t surprised hearing Haechan was head over heels for Zoya, she was there, witnessing it with her eyes, hearing him rant about how much he loved her. But it had to be a good thing that Jaemin thought Haechan shared the same love for her, too, right? If Haechan talked about her the same way he talked about Zoya, if he looked at her the same way, she was sure he loved her a lot.
Jaemin wanted to say something more but only limited himself to a fake smile and a nod of the head before hiding behind the glass of wine.
“What about you?” Hyejin asked, deciding it was better to change the topic and shine the light on him.
“About me or my dating life?” He asked, placing the glass down, and smiling at her.
“Your dating life, you look like a heartbreaker,” she joked, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.
Jaemin snickered, leaning back against the backrest of the chair. “I’m pretty lame actually. I think I break hearts because people fall for me and I rarely love them back.”
Haechan scoffed. “If only you weren’t so damn hard to please.”
“Me, hard to please? Have you taken a look in the mirror?” Jaemin retorted playfully.
“Uh, uh, I’ve got her,” Haechan replied, indicating Hyejin with a nod of the head.
“It sounds as if you two gave it a romantic shot and it didn’t work out,” she said, trying to suppress the laugh but when they both turned to her glaring at her, she broke out laughing. “I’m sorry but why did it get so personal?”
“Because I’m not hard to please, I like simple things,” Jaemin explained, shrugging. “As long as I’m with the one I love, I’m happy.”
Haechan rolled his eyes, sipping from his glass before leaning into her ear and whispering, “Don’t believe him.”
“Ugh,” Jaemin gasped offended. “If only I didn’t respect our friendship I’d tell her to put me on a test.”
Hyejin shook her head, snickering. “You two still act like children, trying to make it up for the lost years?”
“If he lies, I’m afraid I’ll have to report it to the teacher,” Jaemin joked before poking his tongue out to Haechan.
“God, you are unsufferable, I had forgotten about it.”
“Maybe you’ll find love here,” Hyejin said, cutting their bickerings, and bringing a hand under her chin.
“Who knows, life is unpredictable,” Jaemin smiled tenderly, playing with the shaft of the glass.
“I hope you will settle in here.”
After a month, Jaemin was more than settled in Seoul and in that house. It wasn’t easy to get accustomed to a new life, find a job and meet new friends, but it wasn’t even that hard.
Haechan was still the usual social butterfly he was back in time, and his friends were nice, so soon enough Jaemin started to hang out with them too. Life was pretty erratic, but at the same time, something felt cosy about everything when he came home after a long day at work.
At first, he thought it simply was the warm color of the living room, or the candles scattered on the shelves, or the smell of food that filled the place most of the nights when he returned home. But after two months, he understood that warm feeling was Hyejin.
At the start, he found it odd that she was at their place so much, it was even annoying because he had imagined having some time and space alone with his best friend after so many years of being away, but he couldn’t hate her even if he tried.
Something wasn’t quite right, though.
Jaemin had been studying them for a while; he wasn’t a creep, and he truly didn’t want to get in their personal business, but it was rather impossible when they were always in front of his eyes. Hyejin always made sure to pass by even for a quick hello and a kiss, rare were the days when she couldn’t because she was too busy or too tired from work, and Jaemin had learned that on Friday they had their special night together, that consisted in having a different type of date. And if it was possible, during the weekend, it was as if she moved in with them.
But if he quickly drew a map of their relationship, he could also easily see all the things that jarred in the picture.
Hyejin truly was the light of the house, a warm presence, a reassuring hug. She was all over Haechan, and every time Jaemin stopped to stare at the way her eyes would look at Haechan, he could swear he had never seen a person more in love than her. If heart eyes were real, they would belong to her. He couldn’t even not notice her lingering touches, her slim fingers looking for Haechan’s hands, almost shyly, as if for some reason she couldn’t, as if that wasn’t her place. Her fingertips would run on his hand, or his thighs, tracing patterns while she listened to him talk with a lost, in-love, smile on her face, or she would run them in his black hair, playing with it until Haechan glared at her for ruining his style.
But all that love seemed to meet a cold wall when Jaemin’s eyes landed on Haechan. He was sure his friend loved her too, Jaemin could hear the tender tone behind his ‘babe’ and ‘honey’, and how happy she was when he randomly gifted her something unexpected. For some reason, though, his love didn’t seem just as strong. And sometimes Jaemin wondered if Haechan truly loved her or not.
He tried not to focus on it, it wasn’t his problem, he probably should’ve focused on finding somebody on his own instead of analysing his best friend’s relationship, but his brain couldn’t help but run miles when they were in front of him.
Haechan started pushing her gentle touch away, stopping her with a colder tone when she brushed her hair and swiftly pulled away from the kiss. And Jaemin wouldn’t have cared about it if only he didn’t witness her eyes saddening with every rejection.
“Don’t you think Haechan has been acting weird?” He dared to ask one day. They were alone at home since Haechan went out to buy some drinks. Jaemin wanted to mind his business and stay locked in his room, but when he went downstairs and saw her on the couch, he couldn’t bite his tongue.
Hyejin lifted her gaze from the phone to him, a cute wrinkle forming on her forehead as she tried to understand what he meant by that. “What are you referring to?”
Jaemin sighed, walking in fast steps to sit next to her. “Doesn’t he seem more distant and cold?”
“Oh,” she whispered, locking her phone to let it drop at her side before turning to face him. “A bit…”
“And… you’re fine with it?”
“I mean, he’s probably just stressed because of work, he’s going insane over it, so I don’t feel like blaming him. Why? Did he answer you badly? I know it’s not nice, but he tends to get easily triggered when he’s stressed.”
Jaemin wanted to slap himself. Of course, he was just making things up in his brain, reading too much between the lines. It had been too long since he had been so close with Haechan and he didn’t know him as much as Hyejin did. It had to be just stress. “No, you’re right, he told me the new shifts are screwing him and the boss is making him go through hell, I’m just… dumb.”
“But why? If he said something to you, I can talk to him.”
“No, no,” Jaemin reassured her, trying to comfort her with a smile. “It wasn’t about me.”
Hyejin smiled. “Wait, you were worried about me?”
Jaemin’s eyes widened and she chuckled at his expression. “I wasn’t worried,” he stopped her immediately, “it’s just that… you, oh, never mind, he’s just stressed anyway, you don’t need to hear my useless rants about imaginary stuff.”
She laughed. “Okay, fine, I won’t torture you. But I think that’s a sign you haven’t found anybody if you’re so worried about me.”
He pressed his lips together, sighing undefeated. “I don’t know if I want to add a relationship to the mix of moving to another country and starting a new job and obsessing over my best friend not treating my half-roommate like a princess even when his brain is fried.”
Hyejin chuckled, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Let’s change the obsessing over my boyfriend and me with having time for a relationship?” She teased, placing her hands on his shoulders and batting her eyes at him.
“Why does it sound like you’re trying to set me up with someone?”
“Because I am,” she replied resolutely.
Jaemin rolled his eyes. “Fine, but just because it’s you.”
“I told Jaemin about Zoya,” Hyejin whispered, hot breath hitting Haechan’s chest, covered in the t-shirt he used as pyjamas as they laid in bed.
“You did what?” He asked, looking down at her, not able to hide the shock behind his voice and eyes.
“I didn’t murder anybody, I told him he could meet Zoya,” she explained, not getting his reaction.
“I know but she will get him killed,” he said. “They will never match.”
“You don’t know. Jaemin’s sweet and Zoya’s a nice girl, so, why not?”
Haechan chuckled. “Oh, so you compliment her sometimes?”
“Shut up, I’ve never said a bad thing about her.”
Haechan raised a brow, silently questioning her words.
“Fine, maybe I did, but only when she broke your heart,” our hearts, “and I just called her out for the things she did to you, never went past that. And when she doesn’t break my boyfriend’s heart, she is nice.”
He chuckled, shaking his head before leaving a peck on her forehead. “You’re cute when you get riled up, but try to keep it down. Come here,” he ordered, pulling her closer to start a heated kiss, surely not with the intention of turning it into hands roaming on skin and whimpers filling the room.
“We can’t… Jaemin,” Hyejin whispered against his lips when he rolled her over to make her lay on the mattress.
“We’ll keep quiet,” Haechan reassured her, leaving one last kiss before he started removing her clothes, right before his met the same fate.
“You’re so pretty, you know?”
She hummed, watching as he leaned down to kiss her bare breast before his lips reached her nipples to suck on them. She pushed down a moan while her nails scratched the bedsheets. “Can I make it up for making you mad?”
“You didn’t make me mad, but I’ll pretend to be very offended by what you say, so yes, make it up,” she joked, making him smile.
Haechan moved down until he reached between her legs and then leaned in, breath hitting her pussy, already sending shivers down her spine. Haechan didn’t add other words, he never did, only started leaving kisses on her inner thigh and slowly dragged his mouth closer to her centre.
“Please, don’t tease me,” she huffed.
“I’m not teasing, I’m taking care of you,” he retorted, going on with his soft touches. “Just relax, it was a stressful day, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, so let me take the stress away.” While his lips kept kissing her skin, his hands moved up to touch her body, smiling as he felt her tremble under him, and when enough time passed, he felt like starting to take care of her like she wanted. His tongue laid flat on her pussy, wetting it before he started concentrating on the clit. Haechan was thoughtful and methodical, always following his usual pattern of long strokes of his tongue followed by careful sucks on her clit. And, when he felt generous enough, he even added a finger, just like now.
“Haechan,” she breathed out, voice shaky as her head rolled back, and fire rushed in her veins.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He hummed against her, staring at her, only seeing her boobs raising fast, and part of her neck.
“So good.”
“’S good? Then come all over my tongue,” he encouraged in a low groan, quickening his movements while his hands moved to cup her thighs and spread her more. “Show me how good I make you feel, baby, come on.”
And it took nothing for her to come, shaking like a leaf while her legs closed around his head, as he never stopped his movements, teasing his tongue inside before going back at her throbbing clit to suck it.
“Mhh, fuck,” she moaned, feeling breathless when he pulled away, the high slowing down. “Want you.”
“Not caring about Jaemin anymore?”
“I can keep silent,” she pouted, grabbing him to push him close to her.
Haechan chuckled and then moved her up on the bed to fix her better before he aligned his hips to hers. “Want you so badly, since he’s around we stopped fucking like rabbits.”
“Haechan! You’re so vulgar.”
“But we were used to it, you can’t deny,” he said, kissing her neck.
“Never denied, there are ways and ways to say things.”
“Mhh, can I be inside you or is it vulgar?”
“Just fuck me, please.”
“Boo, vulgar.”
“Hae — shit,” she cursed when he pushed in, hands reaching his shoulders for support while her legs wrapped around his waist.
Haechan chuckled, starting to thrust his hips into her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A moan rolled from her mouth, eyes parting to stare at him. A cute furrow on his forehead while his eyes stared at her face. “You’re beautiful, you know?”
She didn’t reply, only smiled widely before turning her face to the side to hide the blush on her face. But Haechan placed two fingers under her chin and moved her face again, kissing her softly.
She felt all the stress of the long day leave her body as the pleasure incremented with every snap of his hips, not hard but rhythmic enough to push her closer to her climax.
“Hyuck,” she whimpered, nails digging into his back, dragging a hiss out of his mouth.
“Yes, babe? Are you close?”
She hummed, eyes squeezing shut as she felt the orgasm approach. She never had anybody but him, but she was sure nobody else would ever be able to read her like he could. She wished she wouldn’t ever have to feel other hands on her skin, or lips on her body because only his could feel this right. And now that his lips were gently teasing one of her nipples, while his hand was between her leg to stimulate her clit, and he whispered praises right against her ear, she truly felt like nobody else could get her.
“Fuck, you feel too good,” he moaned, lips leaving her sensitive bud so that his face could drop in the crook of her neck. “Come with me.”
She hummed, sounds muffled into her mouth as she kept her lower lip trapped between her teeth to don’t be too loud. This time the pleasure rushed over her with more force as her hips raised from the mattress to rut against his and chase the high. Haechan had this tendency of being a bit too loud when he came, so she was quick at trapping his lips on her, and kissing him throughout the orgasm, muffling his whimpers and moans, mixing them with hers.
“Fuck,” he exhaled after a minute, pulling out of her and collapsing to the side. “Look at you,” he whispered, laying on his side while he caressed her hair, pushing it back on her forehead, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “you always look so hot after sex.”
She chuckled, shifting to hide against his chest. “Shut up, I look like a mess.”
“A mess I made, so you’re hot,” Haechan said, pulling her closer. “Shower? Then I could use a snack, you know?”
Hyejin rolled her eyes jokingly, “You already had one.”
CATEGORY. mini smau, angst, college au, hurt/no comfort
WARNINGS. language, jaemin might be a red flag, reader is too nice, angsty
SYNOPSIS. you know that it's sad that you settle for the backburner.
NOTE. nothing says happy birthday like writing an angsty smau for your bias (i love him, i swear 😭) there are a bunch of timeskips in between scenes, i hope it's not too confusing, but u can ignore most of the timestamps. the only important ones are the ones in jaemin and reader's conversations. i’ll try posting part 2 tomorrow! enjoy 🥹🫶🏼
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
NOTE. i also made a playlist for this au 🥹 lmk what u guys think so far!
CATEGORY. social media au, fluff, angst, kind of strangers to friends to lovers, college au, pre-med!haechan, student council president!haechan, education major!oc
WARNINGS. lots of swearing, alcohol consumption, may have sexual/death/murder jokes (because they’re all college students), will add more as the story goes on!
SUMMARY. fourth year pre-med student and neo university student council president, haechan lee does not have the time for relationships. instead, he focuses his attention on his studies and extracurriculars, so as not to disappoint his parents. that is until hera seo came along—and everyone starts to wonder if the university’s golden boy would finally let his heart lose.
NOTE. this is the first part/story of the episode series! ignore timestamps unless stated otherwise!
genre: fluff, slight angst, a crackfic turned way too serious lmao
word count: 11.6k
synopsis: you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.
author’s note: sorry i came back after almost an entire year and dropped this instead of anything people actually asked for teehee 😋 also i know nothing about hockey so none of the sports stuff makes sense pls kindly ignore <3 big shoutout to miss cat and moon for coming up with the only good parts of this fic
warning(s): brief descriptions of injuries
playlist: and july (feat. dean and dj friz) by heize ― mixtape 2003 by the academic ― chit chat by beach weather ― 1983 by neon trees ― fearless by taylor swift
part i. lee taemin once said his ideal meet-cute is a girl running him over with her car <3
First off, to set the record straight—
You are not a bad driver.
There just so happened to be a bad thunderstorm, and your windshield wipers happened to malfunction, and you happened to lightly tap someone with the front of your beat-up Toyota Prius. Honestly, the person probably did more damage to your car that’s one airbag deployment away from spontaneous combustion than the car could ever do to him.
However, for some reason, the blurry figure that you can barely make out through the onslaught of rainfall doesn’t seem to be getting up off the ground.
Hurriedly putting your car in park, you clamber out in a panic as water pelts you in the face like one of those super strong hoses set on sprinkler mode. Without even asking if the person is okay, you lift him up by the shoulders and shake him violently.
“Oh my God, please don’t die! I literally can’t afford to pay for someone’s funeral right now,” you wail.
‣ summary: After multiple encounters, you develop a crush on the boy working at your local supermarket. And who knows? Maybe the feeling is mutual.
‣ warnings?: nothing too bad I think!, mentions of hyuck breaking his pinky finger LMAO, jokes of plans to stalk/kidnap (false accusations)
‣ an: uhhhh tell me how I made an entire fic that’s set in a mf grocery store (˶x x˶);; it genuinely was only supposed to be like 2k or less,, this is how u know that I romanticize EVERYTHING (sigh imagine how easy life would be if situations like these existed)
‣ taglist: @flowerjun @mosviqu
Your roommate, Karina, had the knack of sending you out to the grocery store against your will. In fact, you couldn't even recall how many times it had occurred in the last month. It feels like you’ve dropped by the store every day on the way home and you’re beginning to think that the employees believe you’re crazy.
But, in all honesty, you couldn’t blame her. After all, no one could resist the taste of your cooking and baking.
So here you were, moving up and down the seemingly endless aisles of the store on a mission to locate cream of tartar for your meringue cookies.
It was odd because you’d usually find the powder alongside the sugars and spices in a bag or container like salt and pepper. Today, it was nowhere to be found, not even the price tag stuck to the shelves that indicated that it was there, just not in stock.
You sigh and slowly make your way down the aisles, laying your eye on every single item sitting on the shelves. Other customers looked at you like you were crazy, occasionally stretching your neck or lowering yourself into a squatting position just to view the bottom shelves. But at this point, you honestly could not give two shits if you looked looney.
“Did you lose something?” A pair of feet appear in front of you in the middle of your squat. You freeze and look up to see an employee looking down at you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, “I’ve seen you go up and down the store like… a lot of times.”
Your eyes widen and laugh sheepishly. Standing up, you shake your head, “Um, actually I was looking for the cream of tartar! I can’t… seem to find it.”
“In the cereal section?”
Now that you’re up and standing, you get a better look of the worker in front of you and you recognize him as one of the newer employees of the store. You can only say this with full confidence because you’ve been acquainted with a majority of the staff and most, if not, all were older than forty. This employee, you would say, was around your age. You take a quick glance at his name tag and read it.
Donghyuck.
“You never know!” You laugh again, this time wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole before the (actually really cute) boy could reply to you. How could you embarrass yourself like this?
Donghyuck lets out a short snort, “It’s in aisle six, you know, with the sugars and spices?”
It takes you a second to realize that you’re currently in aisle 23. “I looked! I swear it wasn’t there!”
He grins, “Then let me take you.”
The boy begins walking away from you and you trail not too far behind him. If Donghyuck miraculously brings you to the cream of tartar, you’re going to think that the universe is against you.
He walks about three paces in front of you, strides slightly longer than yours. Although you both did not know each other, you found it a bit awkward walking in silence. “Just a random thought but are you a new worker here?”
Donghyuck slows down and turns to look at you, playing off of your question, “What are you, the owner of this place?”
“No,” You shake your head and laugh, “I just know a lot of the employees here because I go here a lot.”
“Ah, makes sense,” Donghyuck hums, “I just started working here last week. My grandma works here and I needed extra money so she got me this job.”
You make a sound of acknowledgment. This time, you decide to joke, “Ohhh, so you’re a nepo baby! So what do you do? Roam the aisles?”
He gives you a look, but it’s quickly wiped off of his face when he goes to answer you, “I sorta do everything, so if you do go here a lot, you’ll be seeing me everywhere—ah, here we are.” Donghyuck shuffles over to the rows of spices and uses his finger to follow his place.
“See, it’s not—”
“Found it!” Donghyuck bends down and snatches a bag of cream of tartar. Then, he turns to hand it over to you, the corners of his lips sitting high on his cheeks.
“Thanks,” you say, unsure of how to end the interaction.
“You’re welcome,” Donghyuck nods, “Well, it was nice meeting you, loyal customer, but I have to go back to whatever I was doing. I’ll see you around!” Before you even get to bid him goodbye, Donghyuck spins on the balls of his feet and starts making his way back to the last aisles.
You’re left thinking how you actually hope to see more of him.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
It’s once in a blue moon that you go to the grocery store for a reason other than ingredients and food. Today, you’re set on finding a plant or two to liven up your apartment. The only problem was you genuinely did not know what plant best suited you and Karina.
You have your phone out, searching up the plant names you can barely read from the name tags. Being that you were in the garden centre of the store, the sun was beating down against your forehead and you’re really wishing that you can find some plants and leave so you can get back to your air-conditioned home.
Your goal was to find a plant that could thrive without direct sunlight, given that your apartment didn’t receive sunlight all day, and one that might be a bit neglected due to yours and Karina’s busy schedules.
Francee Hosta. You read, a flowering perennial plant. Lavender blooms in the late Summer. Grows tall, 28 inches. Great for landscaping and can fill empty space well. Best in part to full shade.
“Good competitor,” you say under your breath. Mentally, you put a star on the plant and move on, hoping to gather as many options as you can. You’re not even halfway down the entirety of the garden centre so you’re fully confident that you’ll find one, but you just wish that it was actually easier finding the plant you wanted.
You move on, positioning yourself right beside the next plant you intend to research. It resembled a small aloe vera, only each ‘leaf’ was adorned with white stripes. From where you stood, the plant's name tag remained frustratingly out of sight, perched on top of the high racks.
Letting out a frustrated groan, you stretch yourself as much as you can, reaching for the plant. Balancing on your tippy toes, you strain to touch the pot's glass edge, but it remains just out of your fingertips' reach.
Before you can fully process the situation, a hand swiftly reaches for the same pot, snatching it away from you, “A zebra plant?”
Falling back on your heels, you turn to find Donghyuck holding the small plant in his hands, “Out of all the plants here, you want a zebra plant?” He holds it out for you to take, which you only do because you’re thrown off by his sudden appearance.
You completely ignore his question and ask him one of your own, “You again?”
“Like I said, I do a bit of everything,” Donghyuck shrugs, “Wait, but I work here, I should be asking you that question.”
“I’m trying to look for like two houseplants,” you say, “What’s the problem with zebra plants?” You frown at the poor plant in front of you, getting attacked for absolutely no reason.
“Nothing, there’s just way better ones than it,” Donghyuck snickers.
You frown, “Well, since you seem to know more about plants than me, can you help me?” You turn to place the plant back. But when Donghyuck notices this, he quickly takes it out of your hands and places it back onto its spot.
“Of course, of course,” he smiles. And just like a few days before, he starts leading you down the garden centre, eyeing the plants, “Well, what sort of plant are you looking for?”
You explain everything to him, “But I think I prefer smaller plants since my place has limited space.”
He hums and files through his limited knowledge of plants, “I actually don’t know.”
“I thought you knew things about plants!” Your blink at him, mouth agape, “Why did you even ask me what I was looking for if you didn’t know what I was even talking about?”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “I do but because of the tags.” He reaches over and plucks out the name tags you’ve been using to do research on. Then he flips it around revealing a bulleted list of the plant’s features, “I was going to help you look for one.”
How the hell did you not see the list in the first place?
“What the fuck,” you say, “That’s been there this whole time?”
“You’re telling me you haven’t been using these to pick the plants out!?” Donghyuck sucks his teeth and shakes his head as if he was disappointed in you.
You defend yourself, huffing, “To be fair they’re not as visible as they should be.”
Donghyuck hums, “The more you know. How ‘bout I start over there and you continue from where I found you and we meet in the middle?”
You nod, “Sounds good to me.”
The two of you take about half an hour looking for plants, taking the job more seriously than it actually was. You could already predict that one out of the two plants may possibly be dead in two weeks, but it’s the thought that counts.
“Okay,” Donghyuck approaches you with a plant in hand. Its leaves spill out of the pot, connected to the long, growing stems, “I think this one would be pretty. It’s one of those plants you can hang from the ceilings and it matches what you’re looking for.”
You take the plant from him and hold it up, taking in its appearance, “I actually like it. I’ll take this one.”
He nods and takes it back, “Did you find one?”
You nod, too, showing him the plant you had chosen but sat on a nearby platform, “It looks like an average plant but it should do. Thanks for the help by the way.”
“It’s no problem,” Donghyuck shrugs, “This is the most boring position yet.”
The two of you start walking toward the entrance back into the actual store, passing by other customers, “Really? How many other positions have you worked?”
“This and the one from the other day,” Donghyuck snorts.
You’re genuinely surprised with how well you and Donghyuck can converse despite only meeting once before this. But you like to think it’s a skill you picked up from speaking to the other workers, “You’re kidding.”
“I’m really not,” he shakes his head, “Boring-est so far.”
Once you two reach the entrance, he halts, “I’ll see you around?” Donghyuck realizes he’s still holding one of your plants and he gingerly hands it over to you.
“You know it.”
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Karina’s grip around your wrist is so tight that you feel the circulation failing to reach your fingertips. She’s dragging you down the sidewalk, walking at pace way too fast from your usual, “I promise you I’ll be quick. You can just sit at those benches at the front if you want.”
You groan, taking into account the fact that Karina’s begged one too many times to go to the grocery store with her, “Fine. But if you take longer than ten minutes, I’m leaving.” You can’t say no to your best friend completely, not when you know that her time of month’s coming up and she needs to stock up for her cravings and toiletries.
“Wait, no! I need you to help me carry stuff,” Karina pouts. You both reach the front entrance and now she’s stopped, not ready to go in until she’s satisfied with a plan.
You sigh, but in a loving way, almost as if you were a mom giving in to her kid’s wants, “Fine. I’ll wait for you.”
She lights up and claps, “Great! Okay you can sit and just wait until I’m about to go for cash.”
You nod, watching her jog in and leaving you to dawdle in not long after.
“Hello! Good afternoon!”
It was almost a jumpscare hearing that voice, not expecting it to be the first thing you would encounter walking in. Usually the greeter was an older man who was working part-time despite retiring from his old job, but today, it was the very same boy you’ve run into during your two previous visits.
“A greeter?” You snort.
Donghyuck puts his arms up in defense, “I told you I did everything.”
“Yeah but I didn’t think greeter would be part of that list.” Suddenly, you forget about your desire to sit at the metal bench by the bathrooms.
“Me neither, but here I am,” he shrugs, “What are you doing here?” The question was odd because it’s one you wouldn’t normally ask customers at a supermarket, but Donghyuck thinks it’s perfectly okay to ask you the question because it was your third time that week going to the store.
“My roommate needs things,” you say simply, “Is this position better than the plants?”
“I get to stand here and do basically nothing,” Donghyuck nods, eyes widening, “I get why Mr. June likes it.”
“Where is he anyway?” You question.
Shrugging, Donghyuck leans against the high counter he was standing behind, “Personal day or something? I’m not too sure.”
You hum, “Well at least he’s getting the break he needs.”
There’s a brief silence before Donghyuck gasps, brows escalating to the top of his forehead, “I just remembered!”
“Remembered what?” You don’t recall anything that you and Donghyuck have spoken about.
“This is… weird? But I’ve never asked you for your name,” Donghyuck points out. It’s just now that you realized that he actually hasn’t asked for your name. You both just started speaking to each other as if you knew each other, so introducing yourself never even crossed your mind, “I mean… I think you know mine because of my name tag, but I don’t know yours.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “What if this is some ploy for you to stalk me?” You playfully take a step back and eye him down, “And what if your name isn’t really Donghyuck?”
“I’m not gonna stalk you,” Donghyuck he whines, “And my name really is Donghyuck! You can ask my grandma!”
You let out a laugh and sigh, “I know, I was joking. My name’s Y/N.”
Before Donghyuck can process everything, he gasps, “Are you the Y/N grandma talks about?” He brings his hand up to his head and runs his hand through his hair, “The Y/N that had to bake for practically an entire village of people?”
“So your Grandma is Mrs. Lee?” You don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that your heart warms up at the fact that Donghyuck was related to Mrs. Lee, who was probably the sweetest lady you’ve ever met.
You think it was good because Donghyuck seemed to be close to his grandma, enough for her to get him a job and enough for him to know stories from work—it could really reflect the kind of person Donghyuck was. But now, thinking it through, it could be bad because there was no way you were developing a small crush on a boy you’ve only met twice before today.
“That’s her,” He nods and allows for a child-like smile to surface on his face, “She’s the best right?”
You almost let out an audible ‘aww’ because of the way you can tell that he was probably a grandma’s boy. You nod, “She is. I should’ve put two and two together.”
His head tilts to the side, “What do you mean?”
“When she’s on cash, she talks about her grandson being a ray of sunshine,” you say. For some reason you suddenly feel shy as you speak to Donghyuck, “She says ‘I just know Hyuckie is going to be such a great man one day!’ I don’t know why it didn’t click that Hyuckie comes from Donghyuck.”
Donghyuck blushes at the nickname, attempting to use his bangs to hide, “So she talks about me too?” You nod. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
“She hasn’t said anything super embarrassing,” you tease, “The worst one was probably how you were in a rush to get home after an exam just to play video games and you cried cause you broke you broke your pinky. I found it funny but it wasn’t too bad.”
Donghyuck’s jaw drops in the slightest, “She told you about that?”
You nod and giggle, “Can I see your pinky?”
“Sorry I don’t usually show it on first dates,” Donghyuck peeks at you at the corner of his eyes and smirks.
You facepalm, “That sounds so wrong.” You want to laugh but you hold it back, not wanting to give Donghyuck the satisfaction.
“Lee Donghyuck, are you doing your job?” From your right, the voice of Mrs. Lee calls out to her grandson, a delightful blend of playfulness and a touch of seriousness.
Following the direction, you greet Mrs. Lee with a bow, waving at her before turning back to Donghyuck with hands to your hips, “Yeah, Donghyuck, are you doing your job?”
“Y/N’s distracting me!” He responds in a childlike manner, and Mrs. Lee simply shakes her head in response, a faint smile gracing her lips. As she turns away, you spot Karina waddling down from a cash register with four bags filled to the brim with different things.
“Y/N!” She calls. She uses her head to gesture to the bags. By this time, she’s standing by the exit, setting two bags down at her feet for you to carry.
“I have to go,” you say to Donghyuck, “I’ll probably see you the next time I come here, right?”
He nods, “It’s likely.”
“Well, see you Donghyuck!” you turn and wave, “Or should I say, Hyuckie.”
Rolling his eyes, he waves back before quickly flipping you off, but instead of his middle finger, it’s his pinky. You respond with a good-natured shake of your head, gathering the bags in front of you. With a nod to Karina, the two of you make your way out, leaving the lighthearted scene behind.
“Bye, Y/N.”
It’s good to finally have a name to your face.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
True to Karina’s suspicions, her period started the day after her cravings.
And when Karina gets her period, she gets sick. And when she gets sick, you take this as your cue to go to the grocery store to gather ingredients for the special stomach-hugging soup your mom taught you to cook growing up. It was something that you both looked forward to every month despite Karina not being at her best condition.
The produce today wasn’t up to par as it usually was. All were stacked rather messily, making it difficult for you to filter through the veggies. You’re only surprised because in the amount of times you’ve gone to the supermarket, there has not been one day that it organized this poorly.
“This is like your… fourth time in the last ten days or something?” The voice sounds from behind you, “Just tell me you miss me and go.”
You turn to see Donghyuck with a cart of banana-filled boxes and it all suddenly makes sense to you, “Why would I miss you?” You turn your attention back to the bok choy sitting to your right and rummage through the pre-filled bags.
“It happens more than you think,” he shrugs, “Reason this time?”
You find a bag that seems pretty good and you plop it into your basket, “My roommate’s sick so I’m making her soup.”
“Mmm,” Donghyuck hums, “The weather lately has been making me crave hot pot, so soup sounds so good right now.”
“Now you’re making me crave it,” You feel your mouth water at the thought of hot pot on this cool, rainy afternoon and sigh, “But I think my soup’s better than hot pot. Any. Day.”
He scoffs, “I don’t believe you. Nothing can beat hot pot nowadays. Not even kimchi jjigae.” Donghyuck pushes and pulls at the banana cart as if it were a baby in a stroller, “Thank you.”
Your brows furrow, “For what?”
“Now I know what I’m eating for dinner later.” His grin forms a taut line, “Hot pot.”
You begin making your way to the potatoes, grabbing those thin plastic bags on the way. To your surprise, Donghyuck follows you. You look at him, “Are you sure you aren’t the one who misses me?”
“You wish,” he laughs, “I just need to stand still just for one minute at least. Produce clerk has to be the worst. But I do like talking to you.” Donghyuck shifts back and forth on his feet, “Anyway, what is this soup you’re making?”
“See you do miss me!” You pick out three decently-sized potatoes and gently drop them into your bag, “It’s a family recipe and it doesn’t really have a name to it. We just call it stomach-hugging soup.”
“There’s a clear difference between me missing you and me liking talking to you,” Donghyuck grumbles, “We barely know each other but it’s just so easy talking to you. That’s why.” The way he nonchalantly says this takes you aback but you try to play it off, this time moving on to some nearby taro roots.
“Whatever you say, Hyuckie,” you retort. Though he was right. It’s never been this easy for you to talk to someone, better yet, a boy.
“Hey! That nickname is reserved for special people only!”
“I’m a special person, aren’t I?” you joke, but quickly wave it off, “Don’t worry, I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.”
Repeating your steps from both the bok choy and the potatoes, Donghyuck watches you quietly with a smile that’s so gentle that it would lull a newborn to sleep. You don’t notice this, though, because your mind is distracted by how ungodly big the taro roots are.
“I need to… get back to stacking these bananas but,” Donghycuk gulps, “It would be cool if I could taste this special soup one day.”
You turn to him, and smile, eyes bright at the idea, “Of course. One day.”
He waves and saunters down toward the front of the produce section.
Once he’s gone, you try to make sense as to what Donghyuck was trying to imply. Friends outside of this weird new relationship you both have? Something more than that? You’re not too sure of anything and there was no way you were jumping to conclusions.
Before your thoughts start to eat at you, you shake your head to rid of them all, and along with it, the idea of the small lingering crush (that’s truly starting to develop) on this boy.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
It isn’t until one week later that you return to the supermarket. The reason this time was that you and Karina were truly out of groceries for once (which honestly was not surprising).
It would be a terrible lie if you said you hadn’t thought of Donghyuck at least once within the last week, wondering how he was doing while constantly being put into different positions at work. You hoped that he wasn’t put onto the floor as a produce clerk like he had been the last time you saw him, both for his sake and for the sake of the store.
It was late at night when you finally found the time to visit the store, much later than your usual trips. By this hour, the store had bid farewell to the bustling moms and their screaming children, leaving only adults who had dropped by after school or work, much like yourself.
It would also be a terrible lie if you said you weren’t wondering if Donghyuck was here today.
You grab a rolling basket on the way in, greeting Mr. June when you pass him at the front. You go down the store aisle by aisle while grabbing everything you’ve listed down in your mental list. Occasionally, you brought your phone out to look if you’ve missed any of Karina needed, a screenshot of her text appearing last in your photos.
You spend an hour or two going through the list, part of which was you comparing two different products to see which one would help you save money.
Your third terrible lie of the night would be if you said you weren’t jerking your head toward any other person who entered the aisle hoping it would be Donghyuck.
It was so stupid because this very boy only found out what your name was not too long ago. You’ve only met this boy four other times. And you barely knew anything about him except for the small tidbits you picked up through conversations with him or with Mrs. Lee.
And this leads you to your fourth (and hopefully, last) terrible lie of the night—that you weren’t disappointed when you didn’t run into Donghyuck during your time at the store.
You sigh as you load your things onto the conveyor belt, sorting them with pairs or other like things so it would be easier for you to carry everything. In your head, you’re already planning out how you were supposed to carry everything on your own. You’ve done it before, so you can (while harnessing the power of the universe) do it again.
“This is a lot of stuff.”
You freeze at the voice and you finally look up, finding that Donghyuck was, in fact, your cashier.
He immediately reads the shock in your facial expression and snorts, “Everything, remember? How’s your night doing?” Donghyuck starts scanning your items, sliding them from one side to the other.
You shrug, “Tiring… Do your shifts usually go ‘til this hour?”
Donghyuck shakes his head, “Not typically, but I’m filling in for someone today. One of the other employees got sick so I stepped up like the good person I am.” He flashes a proud expression, and you can't help but chuckle at his confidence, “Anyways, where do you live?”
“What?” you laugh nervously, “I swear you suck at hiding your intentions of stalking me.”
Donghyuck quickly takes back his question, realizing that he worded it all wrong and it being taken out of context was not good look at all. “No no! It’s not that, but…” How can he put this in a non-stalkery way? “My shift is almost done… you have a lot of things to carry… I would like to walk you home?” He cringes at the way it comes out as a question but it’s too late now.
“Okay, if you’re not going to stalk me,” you think, “What if you kidnap me?”
"I promise, no kidnapping plans here," Donghyuck replies with a playful grin. "I'm a certified good guy, I swear!" Unbeknownst to you, he intentionally slows down his scanning, making sure that he has more time to chat with you (just in case you didn’t agree to his proposal). It's been a week since he last saw you, and this supermarket seems to be the only place where you both get a chance to talk. Besides, there was no one else in line.
There’s this very feeling in your chest that’s practically yelling at you to trust him, so you do, “It’s about two blocks down. It’s not too far, it’s a good eight minute walk.”
“I’ll meet you at the front then?”
Not even ten minutes later, Donghyuck meets you right where he suggested. He isn’t wearing the vest the employees wore as uniforms. Instead, he’s thrown on a dark hoodie. He picks up your bags, “Let me take those for you~”
“Didn’t see you coming,” you say, “I can carry one, you know.” You can't deny feeling a hint of nervousness. This marked the first time you were going to interact with Donghyuck beyond the supermarket setting. It's hard not to wonder if your dynamic is shifting from a mere employee-customer relationship to something more meaningful—even if it was just a friendship.
“It’s okay, I insist,” Donghyuck smiles, “Let’s go! Lead the way.”
You stand up and you lead him out the door. You begin taking your route home and Donghyuck quickens his steps to keep up with you, “So, what you’ve been up to the past week?”
A pleasant breeze blows past you both and you turn your head to reply to him just as you’re stopped at a red light, “I’ve just been busy with school and some other responsibilities. I only found time to go to the store after school today.”
“Ah, your load must be heavier than mine,” Donghyuck makes a sound of recognition, “I only have morning classes and then I’m free for the day.”
“You’re lucky,” you laugh, “Mine usually runs the whole day because my faculty’s suckass at scheduling… but it is what it is, I guess.”
The light switches and you’re both allowed to cross. There are only a few cars waiting to go, which emphasizes how late in the night it actually is. “Well at least you’re holding up,” Donghyuck grins, “You still have time for cooking and what not.”
You nod, “That’s true, you’re right.”
The conversation between you two unfolds with familiar ease, similar to your convos at the supermarket. Donghyuck brings up Mrs. Lee, questioning about how you came to know his grandmother. You share your story with him, detailing the moments and conversations that led to your connection.
“Are you close with your grandma?” You ask out of curiosity.
“She practically raised me because my parents were mostly out at work,” Donghyuck explains, “Now that she’s a little bit older, I still go over to her place and help around the house. She’s at retirement age, but she likes being busy. So I let her be busy at work and tell her to relax when she’s at home.”
Your heart swells at Donghyuck’s relationship with Mrs. Lee and a slight surge of emotion wells up within you. It really wasn’t helping with the crush you were trying to conceal, not when Donghyuck seemed like a genuinely great guy.
“I think that’s really sweet of you.” You feel the corners of your mouth rise to your cheekbones, “I bet she appreciates it. She seems to really love you, so there’s no doubt that she does.”
You finally reach your place and Donghyuck realizes this when you slow to a halt. He can't help but feel a tinge of disappointment that your place isn't farther from the store. Nevertheless, he holds onto the hope that he'll have more opportunities to walk you home in the future.
You retrieve your bags from his hands and you don’t notice the way his breath hitches at your proximity. “Thanks for walking me home and carrying my bags. Are you fine getting home?”
Donghyuck nods, “I actually live pretty close, believe it or not, so don’t worry about me. I’ll see you around?” It seems like this was something you’ve been saying to each other a lot.
“Of course and thank you again,” you say, “Goodnight, Donghyuck.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
As you begin to turn away, Donghyuck's gaze lingers on you. Despite it not being your last encounter with him, in that moment, a sense of urgency washes over him, realizing that this might be a pivotal moment. It feels like this decision could only be made now or never.
“Wait!” He calls out. It comes out embarrassingly louder than intended. He swears he could hear his voice echo down the street.
You pause and turn to face Donghyuck, looking back at him curiously, "Yeah?" There are so many thoughts running through your head, only you couldn’t pick them out for the life of you.
Donghyuck starts jogging to catch up with you, his footsteps rhythmically hitting the pavement. "I... actually have a question," he says, his voice slightly breathless. "It's been on my mind for the past week."
You meet his gaze with an expectant look, raising your eyebrows and giving a nod, encouraging him to continue.
“This sounds weird but,” his palm finds the nape of his neck and he’s suddenly (extremely) nervous to even be standing in front of you, “I think I like you… and I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date some…time? It’s okay if no, but I just figured that since we get along well that it was worth try—”
“I would love to.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, really,” you retort, giggling under your breath, “I’m actually kinda relieved you made the first move.”
A rush of excitement surges through Donghyuck, and he's almost overwhelmed with the urge to jump for joy, “I’ll plan something out and let you know, if that’s okay? I didn’t think I would actually get this far.” He feels his cheeks heat up out of embarrassment.
“Take your time,” you snort, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Okay! I promise you I will not disappoint!” he exclaims, “Goodnight, Y/N. For real this time.”
You offer a wordless response, shuffling closer to Donghyuck before rising onto your toes to plant a gentle peck on his cheek.
“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”
(And you best know Donghyuck went home that night skipping, excited to tell his grandma everything the next day.)
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Thank you for reading! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ Pls support my fic by liking/rbing (whatever you're most comfortable with!)
SUMMARY | in which haechan is always your one (and annoying) late-night customer at the 24/7 convenience store you work at and one evening, he forgets his wallet. in lieu of payment, he asks if he can take you out on a date instead. // part of the connection series
WARNINGS | slightly insecure reader, none really!
RATING | teen+
AUTHOR'S NOTE | please check out (and maybe send in some prompt requests) @nctpromptmeme!
You ring him up, like clockwork.
The scanner picks up a bag of the Korean brand onion rings, two Red Bulls, and an instant noodle cup.
He’s the only consistent man in your life, ignoring the fact that the sole reason why he’s in your life is because he always comes into the 24/7 convenience store you work at during late, sometimes ungodly, hours. Tonight, it’s not that bad: 1:53am.
Rarely, no one else strolls in during your shift (and you’re grateful it’s a safe neighbourhood).
However, this young man lives to make your shift a painful one.
Usually with ruffled hair, transparent-framed glasses, and a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he saunters in as if he owns the store, often swinging his keys or obnoxiously whistling along to the song playing in the background. From the moment he steps into the store, his existence alone irks you.
Unsurprisingly, he then takes a solid ten minutes on average (yes, you’ve timed it) to buy his items. Whistling evolves into screeches or emphatic oohs and aahs. Sometimes, he even narrates the entire process, as if he's the main character in a show. And yet, despite it all, he ends up buying the same rotation of his favourite items.
If not the onion rings, the shrimp crackers. If not the Red Bulls, the bottles of Monster instead. He may be grabbing one cup of noodles tonight, but other times it’s three. Potentially even a completely different brand, if he’s feeling adventurous.
On that note, predictability is in his nature. You plead internally for him to live a little, to maybe even spice up his night with a little change, for crying out loud. Heck, maybe even change the grey or black t-shirt he always wears to a shade that’s not a neutral tone or to put on a jacket for once.
And the cherry on top is the constant annoying smirk he flashes when you tell him his total.
You want to punch it off his face, smear it across the shiny floors with the dirty mop water you use at the beginning and end of shift.
“How are you doing tonight, gorgeous?” he asks. Sometimes gorgeous is replaced with beautiful or cutie. It only adds to his annoyance of regularity and you have an itch he does this all the time with others, making you not take his typical endearing terms seriously.
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not gorgeous, but, as always, thank you for the compliment.”
His smirk melts, and you catch yourself feeling a tinge of something as his features soften.
“You are, though,” your regular says. You quickly glance up, wondering if that pout and look in his eyes are genuine. “You know that I call you gorgeous because I mean it, right?”
You’re unsure how to react, so you give a small nod and repeat the total, softly this time.
There’s a beat when the man gets lost in thought, but the moment quickly fades. He reaches into his sweatpants. However, he stops abruptly, before he reaches in again and pats the outside of his other pockets.
“Fuck,” he hisses. You realize two things: one, you’ve never heard him curse; and two, he doesn’t have his wallet.
Well, that surely is different than usual.
Instinctively, you pull the snacks toward you.
“Don’t you dare think I’m letting you walk away with everything for free,” you say, half-jokingly. Even though you’re 80% certain you can trust him, you still don’t know what he’s like.
He smiles sweetly, quite differently than his smirks, forcing you to admit he’s handsome (just a little). “How could you expect me to stoop that low?” he whine-asks, clutching his chest in pain.
After a moment of staring up at the ceiling in thought with his tongue running against his lower teeth, a Cheshire grin spreads over his face and he raises an eyebrow.
You don’t like it one bit and regret the moment earlier, mentally punching yourself for finding him a tiny bit attractive.
“How about…”—he pauses as he rhythmically taps his fingers onto the counter—“...you let me take you out on a date in exchange for these items?”
A scoff releases into the air. “Are you really telling me I’m only worth $11.87?”
“What—no! Of course not,” he flicks a wrist upward in annoyance, then gestures to himself. “A date with me is worth way more in value, so you’ll be getting a better bargain.”
You could not believe this guy. “Is a date with you really going to be worth it?”
“Look,” he leans in over the counter and you catch a whiff of a light, woody scent. You fight off the desire to deeply inhale it. “No matter where we go or what happens, I’ll make sure you’ll be happy by the end of it. Isn’t that worth taking the risk of losing $11.87?”
Squinting your eyes at him, while still clutching the goods he wants, you start to warm-up to the idea since you don’t have anything to lose (but maybe that’s due to the influence of his slightly intoxicating aura).
“Will you choose the date location?” you ask, guarded.
He shakes his head. “Everything will be up to you and I’ll try to accommodate my schedule as best as I can.”
You raise an eyebrow, challenging him. “And what if I want to go to the most expensive restaurant in town?”
Without hesitation, he nods. “Then we’ll go to the most expensive restaurant in town.”
“If I wanted to order the $130 steak?”
“$130 steak it is.”
“If I—”
The cute (you can’t deny it at this point) stranger cuts you off with a raise of his hand. God, you hate how cocky he is.
Suddenly, he holds out a hand, sticking his pinky finger up. He waggles it, and you realize he’s waiting for you to do the same. You curl a pinky around his.
“There. I promise you—cross my heart and swear on my mother’s life—that I’ll uphold and adhere to whatever date conditions you ask of me.” He straightens, stepping away from the counter. “Now, can I please have my snacks and drinks?”
The events of tonight took quite a turn. Never in a million years would you think Mr. Predictability would ask you out on a date, let alone be pretty sweet about it.
Perhaps there’s more to him than you thought.
You hand him your phone, and he does the same.
When he gives it back, you shake your head at the text he sent and the name he gave himself.
“Hyuck?” you ask, unfamiliar with the name.
“Short for Donghyuck, but yes, beautiful?”
You turn your phone towards him in disbelief. “What’s with the heart next to your name?”
He shrugs, flashing you another smug smile. “What about it?”
Glancing down at his phone, he beams. You wonder if it’s because you wrote the following in brackets after your name: You Owe Me a Date Worth More than $11.87.
“And your name is just as beautiful as you are.”
Again, another eye roll. You wonder if the date will be filled with more of it. You shove the stuff towards him.
“I have to know: do those lines really work?”
“Well, I have a date lined up with you, so you tell me.”
Before you have a chance to retort, he grabs something out from his pocket.
A wallet.
His motherfucking wallet, and he has the audacity to toss a $20 bill onto the counter with the same grin that you still want to wipe the floor with. Your jaw hangs.
“Keep the change,” he says, along with your name and grants you a wink as he grabs his items.
