Cryingforjae

twenny one long ass ride.. 🐯

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

each piece of writing on this masterlist is part of the fratboy!Jaehyun universe, official fics and drabbles for the storyline can be found here. Enjoy!!!

updated July 20, 2026 most recently added fics are in bold!

/tiktoks and other silliness/

best brother ever- you do the “best brother ever” prank on Jaehyun- he hates it

marrying ice cream- you do the “calling your boyfriend your husband prank” on your boyfriend

smudged kisses- you do the "messed up lipstick" trend with your boyfriend

no one would hear you scream- you do the "no one would hear you scream" prank on your boyfriend while on a hike with the frat

grwm while I...- Jaehyun decides to pull a prank on you. It backfires.

my boyfriend ranks...- you use the physical affection filter with Jaehyun and he ranks them

anyone could walk in on us...- you do the "pretending to give my boyfriend head" prank on your boyfriend

tell me you love me or else- you do the "hanging up on my boyfriend without saying I love you" on your boyfriend

a boy who's jacked and kind- you do the "a boy who's jacked and kind" trend with your boyfriend

we listen and we don't judge- you do the "we listen and we don't judge" trend with your boyfriend

don't smile...- you do the prank where you give Jaehyun a note telling him not to smile and you'll give him head

MY Johnny- you do the prank where his best friend pays for your nails... or perhaps your best friend paid for them

what do you mean, he?- you do the "a guy waxed me" prank on your boyfriend

what does your cup say?- you ask your barista friend to prank your boyfriend by writing a pick-up line on his cup

birthday spoiling- you do the trend where you hide sexy pics for your boyfriend to find on his birthday

bf ranks types of kisses- you use the types of kisses filter with Jaehyun and he ranks them

the booktok door trend- Jaehyun has a little peek into a book you left and decides to try something he read on you

tell me that's not permanent- you prank Jaehyun by making him think you got a tattoo of his name

pretend I'm a random guy- Jaehyun does the "pretend I'm a random guy" prank on you

I don't want to spend the night- you do the prank where you tell your boyfriend you don't want to stay the night

are you two a couple?- you and your boyfriend are interviewed by a tiktok account asking if you two are a couple

what is this going to cover?!- you prank your boyfriend by making him believe that two shoelaces are your bikini

I'm so hungry I could eat...- you and Jaehyun do the "I'm so hungry I could eat..." prank on each other

my boyfriend does my makeup- you and Jaehyun do the "my boyfriend" does my makeup trend

the "planned" date- you do the TikTok prank where you get ready for a made up date on Jaehyun

you're eating snacks with him!- Jaehyun wakes up from a nap, grumpy to find you gone and even grumpier to find you snacking with another guy!

my "current" bf/gf- you and Jaehyun do the my "current" bf/gf prank on each other

if you can make me laugh...- you do the "if you can make me laugh, we can practice making a baby" trend on Jaehyun

you're baby for a reason- you do the "babying my bf until he notices the camera" prank on Jaehyun

party 4 u- the "party 4 u" trend with Jaehyun ft moments pre-official relationship moments

i'm like 'oh my god!'- you do the Tears challenge by Sabrina Carpenter and your boyfriend watches it

AI maintenance man- text smau where you do the AI man in the house trend

trying pheromone perfume- you try pheromone perfume on around your boyfriend

the Tzuyu bra- you watch the VS show and are influenced to by the bra that Tzuyu wears

miniskirt- you learn a TikTok dance and your boyfriend catches you dancing

enjoy your last meal- you torment your boyfriend by telling him to enjoy his last meal

ugly laugh prank- you do the ugly laugh prank on your boyfriend

avoiding my bf's kisses- you do the prank where you avoid your boyfriend's kisses

you’ll never believe who I found on tinder- text smau where you prank your boyfriend and tell him you found his friend on tinder

men my gf shouldn't know- your boyfriend tests your loyalty with pictures of men you shouldn't know... yeah, right

asking my bf ragebait questions- you just want to know if your boyfriend would rather your mind in his ex's body or her mind in your body!

do you ever wish you were tall?- you wind your boyfriend up on purpose because he looks so hot when he's angry

asking my bf for permission to eat- you do the prank where you ask you boyfriend for permission to eat

princess treatment or nothing- the group witnesses Jaehyun treating you like a "princess" but for the both of you, it's nothing

gagging every time my bf kisses me- you do a prank on your boyfriend where you gag every time he kisses you

besides the obvious- you ask your boyfriend why he would change about himself... beside the obvious

/extras/

birthday smau for fratboy!Jaehyun

will you be my valentine?

Sweetheart's dynamic with the rest of the frat!

Sweets and Jae private tweets!

/alternate timeline/ /aka fratboy!Jae but not the MAIN fratboy!Jae/

[9:35 pm]- you and fratboy!Jaehyun have been keeping your relationship under wraps until now...

how do you say...- you ask your boyfriend how to say certain things in Korean... why do they sound so flirty?

aggressively telling my bf I love him- you do the "yelling at my bf to tell him I love him"-- Spanish speaking!reader

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

could we get sweets and jaehyun with their first child 🥹🥹

ask and you shall receive anon🙂‍↕️ get ready to be sick! with baby fever🙂‍↕️ 😈 (cw: f!reader)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You have never felt more disgusting yet simultaneously happy before in your life. You’ve been wearing the same clothes for far too long, covered in bodily fluids of all kinds, most of which aren’t even your own, and your hair has been stuck in the same bun for over a week, but your heart soars at the sight in front of you.

Your husband, finance bro!Jaehyun, very carefully lowers your baby girl into the plastic bath support you'd set up in the sink. Her tiny face scrunches up in irritation but he's quick to soother her, "you're alright my little love. It feels nice doesn't it?"

She relaxes in the water, a temperature you checked, double checked, then triple checked to make sure it was warm but not hot for her. Her eyes are still closed tightly, but the rest of her body is relaxed as you slowly pour warm water over her, "you like it don't you, baby?"

If you'd asked your sophomore year self where you would be in 8 years, you'd have never have guessed you'd be married to your kind-of-boyfriend Jaehyun with a baby. You could have guessed you'd score your dream job, you would have hoped you'd be in love, but your life now was just idyllic. It was something straight out of a dream.

Jaehyun grabs the baby soap, humming approvingly at the gentle scent as he squirts it on a soft wash cloth and begins to lather it onto your baby. He starts at her feet and her eyes pop open with a soft grunt as she instinctively pulls her feet away. You laugh softly as you use the back of your index finger to stroke her cheek, "oh, is your daddy tickling you, baby girl. Is he being a pest?"

"I'm sorry, little love, not trying to tickle you. I just want you to be clean," Jaehyun gently replies, working the wash cloth beneath her arms.

You lay your head on Jaehyun's shoulder, watching on lovingly as your husband whispers soft words of encouragement and expressions of love you once heard mumbled against your bump. Your eyes water, a sniffle quickly turns into a watery laugh as the baby girl startles at the water he pours over her hair. Her eyes widen, blinking rapidly before a soft coo escapes her lips.

"She likes it!" You exclaim happily, "my precious, little mermaid. I knew you would like the bath."

Jaehyun gently pats her face dry, drains the water, and wraps you baby girl into the towel you have outstretched. You hold her close, pouting endearingly as she nuzzles into the warmth of your neck.

It's even harder to hold back the tears now. You blink up at the ceiling, bouncing your baby girl as if you'd been doing it for years and not just a week and a half.

"You alright, Sweetheart?" Jaehyun asks, concern clearly written in his eyes as he presses a hand to your waist.

"Yeah," you nod, leaning down to nuzzle your baby girl, "just happy, really happy." You sniffle and laugh, "these hormones are still kicking my ass."

"Feel what you feel, Sweetpea. Missy here knows all about how much I've cried, we're just a family full of crybabies," Jaehyun smiles warmly.

You pucker your lips and lean in to smack a kiss on his lips, "I love you."

"And I love you," the baby grunts, making the two of you laugh, "and we love you, baby girl. Why don't I get her dressed while you shower?"

"Are you telling me I smell?" You ask while passing over the baby.

Jaehyun rolls his lips in and nods minutely, "I think you know the answer to that... Stinkheart."

Your jaw drops as you follow your husband and your baby back to your room, "Stinkheart?!"

The baby whines and you point at her with a nod, "she's on my side!" You follow them to the bed, keeping a close eye on her while Jaehyun grabs a diaper and a onesie for her. You pepper her cheeks in a flurry of kisses, your heart melting as she coos and kicks excitedly, "are you mama's favorite girl?"

"Lucky her, she also gets to be papa's favorite girl," Jaehyun adds, tossing the onesie on the bed before meeting your gaze, "seriously, I have this covered. Take all the time you need."

"Fine," you sigh, pressing a final kiss to her chubby cheek before standing up straight.

"I'll get started on dinner once she falls asleep," your husband calls after you.

"I think I want to marry you all over again."

[ohnoyuno]

♡ Masterlist ♡

Welcome to the heart of Jaehyun and Y/N’s story!

The oneshots are all standalones and aren't directly connected, but they all trace their roots back to this pivotal moment — the story that defines who they are and the complicated love they can never seem to let go of.

While Jaehyun’s character revolves around his idol life in Ilichil, Yuta and Taeyong will also play key roles, as their lives are heavily intertwined with the unfolding of Jaehyun and Y/N’s relationship.

Feedbacks are always welcome!

🍒 YUTA NAKAMOTO

Valentine’s Surprise #2 | wip

From Milan to Paris | wip

Remnants of the night

🌹 TAEYONG

Beneath the Chuseok Moon

Steamy Tokyo Holiday

🍑 JAEHYUN

We’re Unconditionally Timeless

This is the backstory of Jaehyun and Y/N’s tumultuous relationship, the foundation, the beginning of everything—where their relationship starts to unravel and set the stage for what follows.

One step at a time

Thread of a Promise

In the shadow of their love

Valentine’s Surprise #1 | wip

Shenanigans and Splashes

Misfit Love | wip

Love you too much

Heart Spilled Drunk

Series: The Days With You | wip

[ohnoyuno]

Shenanigans and Splashes 

Pairing: jeong jaehyun x female reader | ft. ilichil Genre: fluff Warnings: suggestive Word Count: 2020

Summary: When one very down bad Jaehyun lets his thirst get the best of him, all hell breaks loose. A simple tug on a bikini string quickly escalates as his members turn on him in full force. Mayhem erupts as they seek to avenge your honour. 

Jaehyun and you were like a couple out of puppy love, splashing around in the pool, the warm sun reflecting off the water as laughter echoed between the two of you. You tossed water playfully at him, watching his eyes narrow mischievously as he swam towards you “You think you can get me wet?” he teased, a confident smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, for sure I can,” you replied, flicking another splash in his direction.

But just as you turned to escape from his counterattack, Jaehyun made a move, gently pulling you back toward him by your wrist. “Want to get you wet elsewhere, baby” he whispered into yours ears 

“Ha.ha.ha you wish!” You said sarcastically, swimming away from him quickly, the water rippling as you moved, but Jaehyun, being the competitive one, swam after you with ease. As you turned back to see him, he was already behind you. The cheeky grin on Jaehyun’s face never faded. Letting his intrusive thoughts take control, he swiftly tugged at the string of your bikini top, causing it to loosen.

Startled, you instinctively grabbed onto it, holding it close to your chest, shooting him a mock glare. “JAEHYUN!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of mock frustration and laughter.

Jungwoo, who had been floating nearby, burst out in laughter at the sight of you scrambling to secure your bikini top. “Hyung, you are so dead,” he said between chuckles, shaking his head at Jaehyun’s antics.

The laughter caught the attention of the other members who had been lounging by the pool.

Jaehyun put his hands up in mock surrender. “Just a little harmless fun.”

In defeat, you made your way to the side of the pool, your eyes locked with Doyoung’s, who had been sitting with his legs dangling in the water, watching the chaos unfold. “Ugh help me, please,” you said, throwing him a pleading look, knowing that out of everyone, he was the one who might actually take your side.

He offered you a hand. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today” he said with a laugh, his voice teasing but sincere.

With one hand still holding onto the fabric of your bikini, you reached out to him, and he quickly lifted you up to sit on the edge of the pool. As you settled yourself on the ledge, you could still hear the faint echoes of Jaehyun’s laughter in the background.

Without needing you to ask again, Doyoung quickly got to work, his movements efficient and steady as he gently retied your bikini top with ease. His calm demeanor contrasted with Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s laughter still filling around the pool. 

“Is it secure?” Doyoung asked, his voice neutral as he glanced up at you and gave a brief, thoughtful look. His tone was matter-of-fact, with a touch of subtle attention to detail.

You nodded, relieved, and gave him a grateful smile. “You’re a lifesaver, Doyoung.”

“Baby,” Jaehyun called out to you from across the pool, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone. You could feel his eyes on you, but you ignored him, crossing your arms and pretending not to hear.

Doyoung just shot him a playful look, the corner of his lips twitching as he replied, “Next time, try to keep your intrusive thoughts in check.”

Suddenly, you felt a warm presence behind you. Without warning, Taeyong wrapped a soft towel around your shoulders, his arms gently resting on you as he gave you a comforting smile.

“Thank you, Taeyong,” you said softly, feeling warm and bundled up

Taeyong patted your shoulder lightly before looking over at Jaehyun, his expression also turning playful yet firm. He gave Jaehyun a look and said, “Try anything else, and you’ll have to deal with me.” His tone was light, but the underlying warning was clear.

“Noona, I’ll help you take revenge!” Haechan shouted with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Before one knows it, he pounced on Jaehyun from behind, pushing him underwater. Jungwoo quickly jumped in to join him, pulling Jaehyun down further as they both began to attack him together.

Jaehyun resurfaced, completely caught off guard. “Hey! Shouldn’t you guys be on my team?!” he exclaimed, clearly not expecting his playful banter to backfire in such a hilarious way.

Jungwoo, still clinging to his shoulder, cackled. “Not when you’re out here pulling bikini strings, hyung!”

Mark, always quick to join in, dove into the pool with a dramatic splash, sending water flying in every direction. “Aight, Spidermark is here!” he said, striking a playful pose as he resurfaced, looking every bit the superhero he claimed to be.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your sulkiness fading completely as you watched the boys defend your honor in the most ridiculous, over-the-top way. They were fully committed, attacking Jaehyun with all their might. 

“You guys are insane,” you said between giggles, thoroughly entertained by the sight of Jaehyun desperately trying to escape their grip.

As the playful chaos continued, Johnny and Yuta strolled in from the clubhouse, towels slung over their shoulders with their drinks in hand. They stopped short at the edge of the pool, watching Jaehyun getting tag-teamed by Haechan, Mark, and Jungwoo.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, watching Jaehyun flail in the middle of the water as Haechan and Mark relentlessly splashed him. “What did I miss? A full-blown mutiny?”

“You had one job, Jaehyun. One. Job.” Yuta chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the railing. Johnny, always the protector, grinned, clearly amused by the antics going on in the water. 

Haechan, clinging to Jaehyun’s back like a koala, yelled, “And that job was to behave! But nooo, horny hyung was activated!”

Johnny gave Jaehyun a mock salute. “Prayers up, bro. You’re on your own.”

Jaehyun, who had been trying to dodge the attacks, was now surrounded, his laughter mixing with their playful taunts. And somewhere behind them, Mark let out a maniacal laugh as he cannonballed onto Jaehyun again.

“You’re done for, hyung!” Haechan laughed, sending another wave of water in Jaehyun’s direction.

The pool had officially become a splash battleground, and Jaehyun? Completely outnumbered. The members had him cornered, every time Jaehyun tried to break free, someone pulled him back—Haechan grabbing his arm, Jungwoo pushing from behind, Mark drowning him with splashes. 

Taeyong looked every bit the disappointed parent. “Ten bucks says he tries to bribe us for backup in the next five minutes.”

“Five?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow. “I bet he’ll start crying in three.”

Johnny chuckled, leaning back against the poolside. “I give him two, tops. He’ll be begging for mercy before you even finish counting.”

Sure enough, as if on cue, Jaehyun, now fully submerged in water with Haechan clinging to his leg and Jungwoo refusing to let go of his waist, shot them a look of desperation.

You just sat there, wrapped in Taeyong’s towel, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. 

"Baby, help me please!" Jaehyun called out for you, his voice tinged with agony as he tried to wiggle free from the tangled mess of limbs in the pool.

"You deserve that!" You glanced over at him, arms crossed, trying to keep a straight face. But you couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Jaehyun flashed you his best puppy-dog eyes, water dripping down his face, and his hair plastered to his forehead. "I promise I'll be good! I'll be good for you in bed tonight. Whatever you want."

The members chuckled at the absurdity. Even as he fought for his freedom in the pool, Jaehyun was still clutching onto his horny little agenda like it was a life raft.

Haechan, bobbing in the water like a smug little duck, shot Jaehyun a look. “Hyung, even when you’re drowning, the horny never dies!”

Jaehyun dramatically slapped the water, sending a splash in Haechan’s direction. “It’s not my fault I’m consistent!” he huffed, trying to untangle himself from Mark, who was now straddling his neck with his feet like he was riding a wild water buffalo.

“Consistently down bad,” Mark snorted, clinging on tighter with zero intention of letting go. “Seriously, hyung, it’s like you’re ovulating or something.”

The pool erupted with laughter. “Mark!” Doyoung choked, nearly falling backward from where he was perched on the ledge. “You can’t say that!”

“I said what I said!” Mark grinned. “I fear no man… except maybe Jaehyun’s inner thoughts.”

Johnny, now casually floating on a pool noodle, raised a hand. “Let’s be honest, Jaehyun’s inner thoughts are a public safety concern at this point.”

You, from your cozy seat at the edge of the pool, just sipped your drink and laughed. “That’s what you get for messing with me.”

“Not even a little sympathy?” Jaehyun pouted. 

You leaned back slightly, the corners of your lips twitching up as you feigned ignorance, “Sympathy? Oh baby,” you said sweetly, “you lost that privilege the second you pulled on my bikini top like it was a drawstring bag.”

Jaehyun clutched his chest like you’d stabbed him. “Wow. Betrayed by the love of my life. How heartless!” he muttered.

“You’re lucky I didn’t body slam you like Jungwoo did,” you replied dryly, though a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Still would’ve been worth it,” he grinned, water dripping from his eyelashes as he blinked up at you.

Haechan fake gagged. “Okay. Someone please drown me in bleach. I can’t swim in this pool anymore.”

Taeyong looked skyward. “God, it’s me again. Please send stronger brain cells to our Jaehyun.”

“Down bad and defeated,” Yuta called out, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Truly tragic.”

After what felt like an eternity, Jaehyun finally slipped free from their hold as the boys began to lose steam. He dramatically flopped onto the green floatie, arms sprawled, staring up at the sky, “What’s the point of being good looking if I can’t have a little fun?”

“You’re so good looking, you forget that you also need self awareness,” you quipped, giving him a playful side eye. “It’s called balance.”

Jaehyun turned his head toward you, his grin returning, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re my balance, babe. Without you, I’d be a hot mess... actually, I’m still a hot mess, but at least you make it look good.”

“Keep going, and I might just let you keep some dignity... but don’t push it.”  you teased, crossing your arms.

Johnny, still on his pool noodle, raised a brow. “Dignity’s long gone, my guy.”

Jaehyun’s grin only widened, clearly unfazed by your playful threat. “I’m not pushing it, I’m just stating facts. I’m charmingly reckless, and you very much love it.”

“Reckless? More like dangerously clueless,” you shot back, but there was no denying the warmth in your smile.

He waggled his eyebrows. “Dangerously charming, too.”

An echo of groans and exaggerated scowls came from the boys, who were all too familiar with Jaehyun’s confidence.

“Come here, my love,” Jaehyun said, floating toward you with a dramatic flair, holding out his arms like a knight on a horse, ready to sweep you off your feet.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide the amused smile tugging at your lips. “You’re such a dork,” you muttered, but the magnetic pull of his over-the-top charm was impossible to ignore.

You couldn’t resist. And just like that, you gave in, swimming towards him and joining him on the floatie. The moment you settled beside him, he wrapped an arm around you, grinning like he had just won the battle. You were equally down bad for him, and you both knew it.

"Don’t act like you weren’t already planning this," Jaehyun teased, resting his chin on your shoulder while sneakily planting kisses along your neck. "You know I’m irresistible."

“Don’t get too comfortable, keep your hands to yourself, yeah?” you said, trying to sound stern, but the soft smile on your face betrayed you. “You’re still on probation, your dick is not getting out of your pants.”

"Excuse you, we are still here!" Taeyong’s voice echoed from the edge of the pool, making everyone burst into laughter again. 

masterlist

[ohnoyuno]

In the shadow of their love

Pairing: jeong jaehyun x female reader  Genre: angst Warnings: emotional distress, mentions of miscarriage and cheating Word Count: 4040

Summary: A weekend at Jaehyun's parents' house took an unexpected turn when a crucial conversation with his mother unfolded. As Y/N faces the emotional turmoil of their struggles, Jaehyun grapples with the weight of his actions. The unwavering love of his parents casts a long shadow, forcing both to confront their vulnerabilities.

A/N: Happiest birthday to my valentine boy, Jeong Jaehyun ♥︎

Jaehyun and you made it a habit to visit his parents every month, spending the weekend at their home since it was nearly a two-hour drive to the other side of Seoul.  

Jaehyun always seemed more at ease during these visits, slipping into a relaxed version of himself, no longer the idol or the actor, but simply a son enjoying the warmth of home in his parents’ presence. These weekends had become a refuge, a time when the world slowed just enough for him to feel truly grounded.

His parents had also grown incredibly fond of you, claiming you as their daughter-in-law long before Jaehyun even called you his girlfriend. 

In the mornings, you would accompany Eomma to the market or stroll through the department store, chatting about anything and everything as she guided you through her favorite spots.  

Meanwhile, Jaehyun would spend the morning catching up with his dad at home, sometimes helping with small tasks around the house, other times simply enjoying coffee together with their favorite LP spinning softly in the background.  

Afternoons were spent at home, relaxing and unwinding. Preparing banchan with his mom for you two to take home or just lounging around, savoring the warmth of family time.  

Evenings were reserved for a cozy, home-cooked family dinner, followed by a movie night where Jaehyun always let his mom choose the film, even if it meant rewatching one of her old favorites.  

Later, the two of you would take a quiet walk around the neighborhood, hands intertwined, breathing in the crisp night air as Jaehyun brings you to his favourite pocha for supper as he reminisced about his childhood. How he used to race his bike down these very streets or stop by the corner store for ice cream after school

If not for you insisting on this routine early in your relationship, Jaehyun would likely only see his parents every few months or on special occasions. Over time, he grew to appreciate your effort, cherishing these visits as a way to recharge and spend quality time with his loved ones despite his busy schedule.

This particular weekend, however, was different than usual. You and Jaehyun had a little argument the night before, left unresolved before both of you went to bed. It lingered in your mind, keeping you up all night, tossing and turning, waking up every few hours until you couldn’t take it anymore. You glanced at the clock and it was 4:30AM. Needing some space to clear your head, you decided to start the day early and drive down to his parents’ place on your own.

You left Jaehyun a message on the counter before making your way out, “Already on my way to your parents.”

With that, you grabbed your keys and quietly stepped out, hoping the fresh air would give you the space to sort through your thoughts.

With the roof down on your convertible, you let the cool morning air brush against your skin as you cruised along. The chill R&B playlist set the tone, its smooth beats filling the car as you navigated through the quiet, early morning traffic. You arrived at the house just as the sun began to rise, casting a soft, golden light over the quiet suburban street. You turned off the engine and sat in the car for a while, allowing yourself to soak in the peaceful atmosphere and feeling the stillness of the morning. 

Eomma was already up, watering her little garden in the front yard, while Abeoji sat in his usual corner by the side of the house, engrossed in his morning reading.

“Oh my, Y/N! What brings you here so early? Are you by yourself? Where’s Jaehyun?” Eomma asked, glancing behind you with surprise, clearly wondering why you were here without him.

“Morning, Eomma. Morning, Abeoji. Jaehyun had some things to do, so he’ll make his way here later.” you replied casually, brushing off her question about why you were here so early. You weren’t ready to dive into that just yet.

“Have you had breakfast? We were just about to finish up here and go prepare. Let’s go inside.” Eomma said, gesturing toward the house with a warm smile.

You nodded, feeling the comforting familiarity of being in their home. “That sounds great, Eomma. Thanks.” You helped clean up the little garden tools, placing them back in their designated spots before following her inside. The door opened to the inviting smell of food already steaming on the stove. 

The three of you sat down at the table, and the meal was wiped off in no time, the conversation flowing easily as you ate. Afterward, you took charge of washing the dishes while Eomma and Abeoji cleaned up the table. You could hear Eomma chatting away with Abeoji, their voices a comforting backdrop to the sound of running water as you scrubbed the dishes, lost in thought.

Eomma came into the kitchen, and you turned to her with a bright smile, “The market’s about to open, let’s go together after this!”

Eomma paused, giving you a knowing look. “Y/N, you’ve been yawning away during breakfast. You clearly didn’t sleep well last night, which explains your early visit. It’s still early, go catch some sleep, alright? No need to accompany me today.”

“B-but I…” you began, not wanting to back out.

“No buts.” she interrupted gently but firmly. “Abeoji will go with me today, okay? Just stay home and rest. We will be back shortly.” With a soft but purposeful gesture, she turned you around and gently pushed you out of the kitchen, as if to say, “That’s enough for now.”

“Thank you, Eomma,” you said softly, giving her a grateful smile as you made your way out of the kitchen. It felt nice to be looked after, and for a moment, the weight of everything from the night before seemed to lighten. With a sigh, you made your way to the bedroom, ready to take her advice and catch up on some much-needed rest.

You dozed off immediately as your head hit the pillows, the exhaustion from the night before catching up to you. Before you knew it, you were stirred awake by the soft, familiar melody of The Carpenters drifting in from the living room. Which only meant one thing, that Jaehyun had arrived.

You freshened up and made your way out of the bedroom. As you entered the living room, you spotted Jaehyun sitting on the couch, talking to his parents. Without a second thought, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. 

Jaehyun froze for a moment, stiffening at the unexpected gesture, but then he relaxed and returned the hug, understanding that you were trying to shield his parents from sensing anything out of place. The embrace was brief, but in that moment, it was enough to create a sense of normalcy in front of his family. You pulled away and smiled, trying to ease the tension before turning to his parents, who seemed none the wiser.

To avoid any conversation between the two of you, you quickly shifted your attention to his parents. “I suggested to Abeoji that we have samgyeopsal tonight. Eomma, what do you think?”

Eomma’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “That sounds perfect, it's Jaehyun’s favourite! We should already have everything we need in the fridge.” She beamed, clearly excited at the idea of a hearty family meal.

Abeoji chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “Good choice, Y/N! Adeul, my daughter-in-law really knows you so well.”

Jaehyun just gave a small nod but didn’t push any further. His lips curled into a small smile as he looked at you, the atmosphere a bit lighter now with the focus back on his parents and the meal ahead. The subtle tension from earlier seemed to ease, if only for a moment.

The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up on Culinary Class Wars, the show his parents had recently become hooked on. You found yourself laughing along with them as they debated the contestants’ cooking styles. The light-hearted conversations and the warm atmosphere washed off the tension that you and Jaehyun had the night before.

TIme passed quickly and it was already time for dinner. The sizzling sound of the samgyeopsal on the grill filled the room as you all gathered around the table, ready to enjoy the meal together. Jaehyun was cooking the meat while you sat beside him, helping to arrange the banchan and pour drinks. Jaehyun’s quiet focus on grilling the meat was a stark contrast to the lively conversation happening around the table.

The folks were chatting away, enjoying the food and laughing at something Abeoji had said. Even though you were still charging at minimal conversation with Jaehyun. You glanced at him and noticed how relaxed he looked, his figure no longer tense, and his smile a little softer.

As you passed the cooked meat to Eomma, she smiled at you. “See, Y/N? You’re already fitting right in with our family traditions. It’s time to make it official, don't you think?” she said warmly, causing Jaehyun to glance at you briefly while you gave an awkward smile. 

Jaehyun’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression unreadable, but you could see the subtle shift in his demeanor. The weight of his mother’s words hung in the air, but neither of you spoke for a few seconds, the room suddenly feeling a little quieter.

Eomma, sensing the slight awkwardness between the two of you, chuckled softly, trying to smooth things over. “I’m just teasing, Y/N. No pressure at all.” She reached over to gently pat your hand, her smile still warm and welcoming.

Abeoji, ever the relaxed one, joined in with a playful grin. “It’s always good to have you here, Y/N. We’re glad Jaehyun found someone who loves him as much as we do.”

“Thanks, Abeoji, I’m also very happy to be here.” You said while offering a soft laugh to break the tension.

Jaehyun put some banchan in your bowl gently. “Here, your favourites.” he said quietly, his voice no longer strained.

You nodded, accepting them with a light smile “Thanks.”

Jaehyun, though quiet, seemed to relax a little more at the shift in tone before returning to his task of grilling the meat, his focus back on the task at hand. As the night wore on, the atmosphere became even more comfortable. The soft clinking of the glassware filled the space while Eomma and Abeoji joked around and shared stories as the meal continued.

After everyone had their fill and the food was cleared. You, Jaehyun, Eomma, and Abeoji moved effortlessly through the cleanup, working together in a rhythm that felt almost like second nature. 

And once everything was done, you decided to call it a day and excused yourself to the room. Jaehyun followed you behind, intending to address the issue from the night before and talk things through with you. But before he could gather his thoughts, you were already out to the bathroom for a shower, leaving him alone, waiting for you to return.

As he settled himself on the bed, there was a gentle knock at the door. Jaehyun glanced up to see Eomma standing there, holding a plate of fresh fruit.

“Adeul, eat some fruit. Make sure to leave some for Y/N.” she said with a warm smile, offering him the plate.

“Thank you, Eomma. You’re the best.” Jaehyun said, taking the plate from her gratefully.

Eomma gave a playful smile. “Yes, I know I’m the best. But I also know something’s going on between the two of you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Jaehyun chuckled, a bit sheepish. “Hahaha, your son’s an actor, and he still can’t deceive you.”

Eomma raised an eyebrow, her tone turning more serious. “Cut the nonsense already. What’s wrong?”

Jaehyun sighed, leaning back on the bed as chewed on his fruit. “It’s nothing really, just a small argument and we didn’t really resolve things last night.” he admitted quietly, his tone heavier than before. “But I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”

Eomma’s gaze softened as she looked at Jaehyun, sensing that there was more to it than he was letting on.

“Are you sure?” she asked gently, her voice filled with concern. “Y/N’s been off all day.”

Jaehyun hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering towards the bathroom door outside of the room where you’d gone in. He took a deep breath, his fingers gripping on to the fruit skewers tightly. Eomma studied him carefully, her motherly instincts sharp. She set the plate of fruits down on the nightstand and moved closer, gently placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to handle it alone, Jaehyun.” she said softly, her voice full of concern. “You know we’re always here for you. But sometimes, talking things out is the best way to make it right. That’s the way to a happy marriage.”

Jaehyun let out a sigh, his eyes flickering toward the bathroom door again afraid that you might walk in any minute. “About that, Eomma… can we not talk about this in front of Y/N for now?”

“Why, Jaehyun? I don’t understand. Both of you have been together for almost five years. Isn’t it time to start thinking about a family? Y/N has always wanted children, hasn’t she? And you too. What’s holding you back?”

Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair, visibly struggling with the weight of his emotions. “Okay, fine… I’ll tell you, but promise me you’ll stay calm.”

Eomma nodded, “Go on.” her voice laid with concern. 

“Y/N was pregnant…” Jaehyun’s voice cracked slightly, and he paused, gathering himself. “But it wasn’t meant to be. It was an ectopic pregnancy. She had a miscarriage last month.”

Eomma’s hand dropped from Jaehyun’s shoulder, expression shifting from concern to something deeper, something harder to read. She placed a hand over her heart, trying to collect herself from the news. The silence between them grew thick as she absorbed his words.

Jaehyun’s voice wavered, guilt evident in his eyes. “Eomma, I’m very sorry. Apart from that, I… I cheated on Y/N earlier on. And she found out right after the miscarriage. She didn’t take it too well at that point.”

As the hurt from the miscarriage was still palpable in her eyes. Her eyes widened in shock, her hand instinctively covering her mouth trying to collect herself, but she couldn’t and burst out in tears. 

Her tears flowed freely as she struggled to catch her breath, her sobs shaking her body. She hit Jaehyun’s chest lightly, her fists weak from the weight of her emotions. “Jeong Yuno, how could you? ” she cried out. “How could you do this to Y/N… the woman who loves you wholeheartedly. Especially when she was already going through so much.” She said as she choked on her words in between her sobs.

Jaehyun stood there, frozen, his chest aching from the blows, but he didn’t flinch. He deserved every bit of it. His head hung low, eyes watered while the guilt suffocated him, as he stood in front of the woman who had raised him, who had always been a steady source of love and support.

You paused in the doorway, eyes wide as you took in the heartbreaking scene before your eyes. Seeing Jaehyun standing there with a pained expression while his mother was crying in front of him, your heart clenched as you understood what had just happened. Jaehyun must’ve told his mother everything.

Sensing someone by the door. Eomma’s tear-streaked face met your gaze, and it didn’t take long for the realization to dawn on her. She wiped her eyes quickly, attempting to gather herself, but her voice trembled with a mixture of sorrow and concern. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I didn’t know about any of this.”

Not moving, you stood there, lips pressed tightly together. The storm of emotions you had been holding back finally began to break through. You had known about the cheating before, had found out about it in the most painful way possible at the worst time, but hearing it from Jaehyun’s own lips still struck a raw nerve. 

Seeing the pain it caused Eomma, it was like everything crashing down at once. The weight of her words hung in the air. You cast a brief glance at Jaehyun, eyes betraying the hurt that you had been holding inside. “It’s okay… It’s not your fault, Eomma.”

Without saying anything else, you moved towards Eomma, pulling her into a warm embrace. Eomma stiffened for a moment but then leaned into you, the sobs quieting as you guided her away from the room. 

As you left, your chest tightened with each step, mind swirling with emotions you had tried so hard to keep buried. You took deep breaths, willing yourself to stay composed. For Eomma’s sake, if not your own.

You gently guided Eomma to sit down, hands steady despite the storm within yourself. Without a word, you poured a glass of warm water and placed it into Eomma’s trembling hands.

Eomma looked up at you, eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “I should’ve known.” she whispered, her voice heavy.

Offering a small, sad smile. “You couldn’t have. And even if you did, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Eomma took a sip of the water, her grip tightening around the glass. “But I could have been there for you.”

“You’re here now.” you said softly. “That’s all that matters.”

Eomma's voice wavered as she reached for your hands, her grip firm yet full of sorrow. “Y/N… I sincerely apologize for my son’s behavior. I failed as his Eomma.” Her eyes brimmed with regret, her pain evident in every word.

You shook your head immediately, the hold on Eomma’s hands tightening in reassurance. “Please don’t say that. You are not to blame for his actions.”

Eomma let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping as she whispered, “I raised him to be better than this.”

“You did.” saying softly. “He made his own mistakes, Eomma. This isn’t your burden to carry.”

Tears welled up in the older woman’s eyes again, but this time, there was something else in them, an unspoken gratitude, an understanding that even in heartbreak, kindness still remained. 

You gave her a small, reassuring smile, squeezing her hands gently. “Don’t worry about us, Eomma.” you whispered, “We’ll be okay… somehow.”

Eomma’s tears slipped down her cheeks, but she nodded, seeing the quiet strength in your eyes. “You’ve always been so strong,” she murmured. “Stronger than I could ever be.”

“I don’t know about that. I just… I have to be.” Letting out a small, bittersweet chuckle. 

Eomma reached up, cupping your cheek with a mother’s warmth. “No matter what happens, you will always have a place in my heart, Y/N. Always.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat and nodding, blinking back your own tears. At that moment, words weren’t necessary. The love and understanding between the both of you spoke louder than anything else ever could.

It took some time for Eomma to calm down, and eventually, exhaustion from crying lulled her into sleep. Gently, you draped a duvet over her before quietly retreating to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind you.

You stood by the door for a moment, watching Jaehyun’s figure tremble as he tried to stifle his sobs. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable, so unlike the man you had known for years, made your chest tighten.

Jaehyun wasn’t one to cry, not openly or to you at least, not even when things got unbearably difficult. But here he was, breaking apart in the dim light of his childhood bedroom, his back to you as if he couldn’t bear to let you see him this way.

A sigh left your lips, barely audible, but it was enough to make him freeze. He didn’t turn around, didn’t try to wipe away the evidence of his grief. He simply sat there, shoulders hunched, waiting, perhaps for your words, perhaps for your touch, or maybe just for the silence to swallow him whole.

You took slow steps forward, stopping just behind him. For a second, you hesitated. Then, despite everything, the pain, the betrayal, the lingering wounds. You reached out, rubbing your hand lightly on his shoulder.

Jaehyun inhaled sharply at the contact, his breath unsteady. “I’m sorry.” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I’m really sorry for everything, Y/N. You never deserved this.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words settle between you. You weren’t sure what to say, or if there was anything left to say at all. But at that moment, with his body shaking beneath your touch, you simply stayed.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours for a moment, and though neither of you spoke, there was a quiet understanding that you were both doing your best to navigate the unspoken spaces between the both of you. And in that instant, whatever composure he had crumbled. A shuddering breath escaped him as he broke down once again, the gravity of his actions hitting him like a tidal wave.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around him and hushed him softly, gently guiding him against your body, offering quiet comfort as he let his tears flow freely. You stayed like that for a while, the silence between you heavy but healing. Crying to yourself every day after everything unfolded a month ago, you had become numb at this point, the emotional toll so overwhelming it felt like a part of you was detached, floating just above the pain.

“I didn’t mean for things to escalate like that.” He muttered over your shoulders.

Pausing for a moment, letting his words settle in. Slowly, you turned to face him. There was an intensity in his eyes, a silent plea, but beneath that, you could see the raw vulnerability.

“I know you didn’t,” you replied softly, your voice steady but carrying the weight of your emotions. “I really don’t want this to affect our relationship, and I didn’t want to keep dragging it on either.”

Jaehyun’s gaze softened, his brow furrowing as he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as it brushed against yours. “Y/N, I wish I could take everything back. Especially the things that made you feel this way.” His voice broke with sincerity, his eyes brimming with regret.

You could feel his pain, but your heart weighed even more with the same confusion, the same ache. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. “I know, Jaehyun. But some things... can’t just be taken back. It’s not about the apology anymore.”

His hand tightened around yours, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. 

You looked at him, trying to find the words that didn’t feel like empty promises. “I need time. To heal, to understand everything. And so do you. We both need time to figure out how we can move forward from here.”

He nodded, his face a mix of guilt and helplessness. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Jaehyun's eyes softened as you spoke, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you both. He took a shaky breath, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

"We will figure it out," you muttered, more for yourself than for him, but it seemed to bring him some comfort. "We will be okay."

He nodded slowly, his expression weary but determined. "I’ll do whatever it takes, Y/N. To make things right." His voice was steady now, though it still carried the remnants of the pain he had been holding onto.

You squeezed his hand gently, offering a small, reassuring smile. “We both will.” It wasn’t a promise of immediate resolution, but it was a promise of trying, of not giving up on each other just yet.

For a moment, there was only heavy silence between you both, the space filled with unspoken emotions, unaddressed fears. You didn’t have all the answers, and neither did he. But maybe, just maybe, time was the only thing that could help heal the wounds that had been left behind.

masterlist

[nctzendreamz]

Crazy, Rich, and They Hate Me :: Finale

Jaehyun finally takes you home, but he forgets to mention that his family is the richest in South Korea.

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  

Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine

Jaehyun x Reader ft. NCT

Genre: Angst/ Fluff

You and Jasmine had ran to eachother for a lot of things. Boy problems, girl problems, health problems, money problems; any problem. But as you stood infront of her door, the audio of the doorbell making your ears ring even worse. You didn’t want to be here.

This had to have hit too close to home, right? I mean, during your whole friendship it was a running joke that the two of you were the complete opposite, when in reality you were more alike than either of you had wanted.

You knew if you just pulled up, sad attempt to confess what just happened, you wouldn’t be able to open your mouth. You were guaranteed to make up some lie about how his mom officially forbade you to be in a relationship with Jaehyun, so you told her the whole story as you walked to this destination.

Before an hour ago, you felt so pretty. Usually you hated red, but that way Jaehyun’s eyes just couldn’t leave your body made you feel a confidence you hadn’t felt in too long looking so dressed up. You hated him now. You knew it wasn’t his fault. But you did. You never wanted to see him again.

A now familiar sight to you, the door slid open, but the Jasmine you had known all your life wasn’t behind the door. There was nothing but pure sympathy in her eyes, and she opened the door at a slow place. She clearly didn’t know exactly how to react, not that she was supposed to.

“I’m so sorry.” Her voice trembled.

Tears were the only source of communication you could give her.

“I’ve been gone a month, Jangmi. A month!” Minjun screamed, clearly fuming as he paced back and forth around their eerily empty mansion.

Jaehyun hadn’t had such a moment since he was a child. No one in sight except the three of them. No workers running around, ready to do whatever they asked. Not even the smell of dinner from his grandma could be scented. And his dad being here? This couldn’t be real.

“What is that supposed to mean?” His mother argued, staying seated on her velvet loveseat. Her and her son both silently agreed that they couldn’t be near eachother right now. She was on one side of the seat, while Jaehyun had completely rose when she arrived to the scene, unable to look her in the eye.

“I told you that Jaehyun was serious about that girl, didn’t I?”

“Was I supposed to take you seriously? Hm?” She protested loudly, her voice raising in volume with each word. “Why are you yelling at me when you should be yelling at your son!”

“My son?” He scoffed. “You mean our son.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Our son found a woman that he loves. What’s the problem?”

“Did you not just hear what I told you?” She accused. “Her life will completely ruin our reputation. Every single thing the world thinks our son is, will crumble as if it was never there. Why can’t you see that!”

Jaehyun was trying his best to keep up with the heated discussion that echoed through his childhood home. But the only thing at the forefront of his mind was you. A nervous habit he had formed after falling in love with you; his body rocked back and forth, and his fingers couldn’t remove themselves from the grip of his teeth as he thought about all the terrible things that could’ve happened to you in the last hour.

He had never hated himself until today. Why did he bring you here? He should’ve just kept you a secret. He should’ve flew for the festivities, and came back to you tomorrow morning, where your life would still be intact. Your self-esteem would be at its normal level, where all he had to worry about were things that he could fix with his kisses and sweet nothings.

His bloody hands had been wrapped all alone, although in any other situation, his mother would’ve taken care of it. They probably would’ve joked around about his bruises, or something similar. That was the mother he knew. This vile, angry beast that he watched approach his father with sharp fingers wasn’t who he loved.

He didn’t want to be here anymore. Even in the bask of his fathers glory who was clearly fighting for him, couldn’t make him want to be here. His life was over, and not because of your news. It was because he knew; he fucking knew clearer than ever now that he had lost you for good. And it was his fault. All those times he tried to be the good guy, not trying to start any conflict. For the sake of you, and him, and your serenity, but it was doing nothing.

He let this happen, and now he had to pay the price.

He stood up abruptly, the both of his parents stopping their arguing to stare at him. He looked broken. He didn’t need a mirror to see that. He felt it. He felt too many things right now. If he didn’t go into his room right now, he didn’t know what was going to happen.

“Where do you think you’re going!” His mother spat. How bold of her. If anything, she should be begging for his forgiveness, but she couldn’t even stuff her pride.

“Jangmi, let him deal with everything that just happened. Let him breathe.”

“No. He needs to hear what we’re going through simply because of him. You came home expecting good news, but now we’re broken.”

Jaehyun continued to take gentle steps forward, remembering your own techniques for calming down. He never thought things like this worked, and he was correct in this theory.

“Your mother is—

“Mom! I am angry at you! More than angry!” He yelled suddenly, shaking the house. The minute he had to use his diaphragm, the burning of his nose took it as a signal to let the liquid drip from his eyes. “Do you not realize what the fuck you just did to me? Are you really that blind? You ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I let you.” He trailed, looking at his higher power in embarrassment. “I let you.” He giggled through his tears now, looking nothing less of a psychopath. “You, the cousins, Yuna, grandma, everyone here. I let you guys trick me into believing you could be saved. I watched you destroy everything she had going for her when she came here, and I let you.”

“Son…” his father attempted to approach him, but Jaehyun snapped his shoulder away, making him flinch at once.

He wanted to say so many more things. Things that he didn’t mean, just so his mother could feel the hurt that was making his body pulse. But he decided to keep walking, knowing he wouldn’t be stopped this time.

Days had passed, and your phone had been off for the same amount of time. You wanted no parts in seeing any pictures of you and him. You didn’t want to see all of his apologies. You wanted to go home.

“Y/N, you need to eat.” Jasmine would say everyday. Even Heechul, who always had a snarky comment was being extra sweet to you, making you little pastries that were said to soothe you.

You’d always eat just enough to protect yourself from any true damage you could do to your body. You would always feel as if you had to throw up, but it would never actually happen. You knew it was all in your head.

The silk sheets that rested on your body were so uncomfortable right now; more proof that this life wasn’t for you. They were making you so hot.

“Y/N.” Jasmine’s soothing voice whispered into the large space of her many spare bedrooms, one you had happened to choose. You expected her at this time, with a tray of your favorite snacks. But when she appeared infront of you, she was empty handed. “We need to talk.”

You couldn’t deprive her of that. Neither of you had spoken about what you learned, and you truly believed it was because neither of you knew how to approach it. You weren’t ashamed of being adopted, and you hoped she knew that. Your lack of eating, and showering, and good hygiene in general wasnt because your true parents. It was because you knew you and Jaehyun were officially done. And you knew you were probably going to ruin his life, as his mother was just too spiteful. She would probably get the information out just because he was surely fighting your love; even through all of this drama.

Just to make him look bad, she’d do it.

“Do you have any questions?” She questioned awkwardly, fiddling with the rings she never took off. A gift from her new family, she explained.

“No.” Was all you could say, unable to look her in the eye.

“I hope you’re not ashamed. Or see yourself as less than because of what you know. You still have great parent—

“Jas.” You whispered in a purely sincere tone as your eyes filled to the brim with tears, “do you think I looked at you differently because you’re adopted?”

“I just—I know it’s not ideal. And I didn’t come from good parents and I just—“ Her voice cracked, and for the first time in your life, you were watching her cry. Her fighting spirit had her refusing to be in your arms, but you didn’t listen to her silent wishes. You snatched her up just as she had when you were on her doorstep about to have a mental breakdown.

“I have never looked down on you. To be exact, I’ve always looked up to you. I know you had your demons, and things that upset you, but you were always positive. I always wondered how you could be like that. How you could be so damn strong even though you had every right to be pissed off at the world.” You kissed her forehead, hating the way you were mimicking Jaehyun’s every move right now. “I love you, Jas. And so does your family. I hate that you met them later than you wanted, but what do I always say?”

“That everything happens for a reason.” She choked out.

“Exactly.” You took a deep swallow, knowing that was slogan but wanting it to be un-true in your case. You didn’t want this to be what fate wanted. You wanted there to be mistake in that foreign world. A mishap. But as you continued to dwell on your thoughts, you didn’t have positive feelings on it. No optimism.

You woke up the next morning with Jasmine in your bed, her tears still stained on the pillow beside you. Today was your last day before you had to take your flight, but you couldn’t just leave.

You turned your phone on, knowing it had a chance of practically blowing up from all the texts you knew you recieved. They were all from him. Every single one.

Twelve missed calls. A no exaggeration—twenty separate text messages from him. They started off so concerned, begging you to answer the phone. He was explaining that he just needed to hear you voice to make sure it was actually you responding to him.

As you continued to read, he told you that his father was here, and that he finally told his mom off. He confessed that even so, he felt no better, because he was weak. He didn’t say everything he wanted to say, and he wanted to go back in time to say everything over, better.

He then went on to tell you how much he loved you. He seemed to be arguing with himself, as he kept mentioning that he wasn’t enough. That it was he who didn’t deserve you, and he hated how terrible he was with words. He was trying to fit all of his love for you in a text message, and believed he was failing.

Even as the days skipped, he updated you about his day. He said he wouldn’t eat until he wanted to, which was never. His apologies were never ending, and your heart was close to its end.

He told you he was crying, and couldn’t stop. He told you that he cried so much that he had thrown up, but that he needed it. That it made him feel better for all you had gone through for absolutely no reason.

You couldn’t read any longer, feeling sick to your stomach as you knew he was telling the truth. A man didn’t do all of this for a woman he didn’t love. At least, not a man like Jung Jaehyun.

But love didn’t matter anymore.

You texted her, setting a time and place. She argued, saying that it would be best if you just came to the house.

Unlike every other time you were at the Jung residence, you weren’t dressed up today. Even with the preaching you planned to do in just a few moments, you couldn’t help but to feel so insecure. So less than.

“Y/N.” Was all she said when she let you in. “As you can see, he’s not here. I wasn’t lying.”

“I didn’t think you were.” You whispered, looking at your toes.

She didn’t look good. Now more than ever could you see the resemblance between the two of them. His dimple always shined at you when he was happy, but the exact same one was now moped out, cause being because she had her lips sucked in. It was the kind of expression one wore when they didn’t know what to say.

“So, what did you have to say to me?”

“You know I love Jaehyun, right?”

She was quick to answer. “Yes.” You knew she wasn’t going to miss a beat just yet.

“Do you think Jaehyun loves me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you fight it so hard? Why wasn’t love enough for you?” Your tone was surprising gentle considering the words you were speaking. You preyed around her home, eyeing all of the artwork you never got to admire because you were always being bullied when you came here. Their family portrait actually read them to be great people.

“Because love isn’t enough. Do you know how many people in the world love eachother? If we married just for love, the world we be in a deeper hell.”

“So you don’t love Mr. Jung?”

“I got lucky.” Her voice waivered. You couldn’t see her facial expression. You didn’t want to look at her just yet.

“Lucky how?”

“Me and Minjun were soulmates who happened to come across eachother. We had love and the resources.”

“So you’re saying that if you didn’t have the resources, you shouldn’t have been able to marry the man you love?”

Her trailing of your moves stopped, as she could finally understand your game. She obviously didn’t like it. “Say what you want to say or get out of my house.”

You turned around from the splash art you were observing deeply, staring straight into her cold eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume she had no soul. But you knew that wasn’t the case. She just didn’t like you.

“This will be the last time you see me.” You confessed, and you saw the way joy sparkled in her eyes. It hurt, even though you should’ve seen it coming. “And I know even right now you’re planning my departure, and trying to figure out who should really be Jaehyun’s bride. Who actually deserves him. Your choice. But never forget, that it was me, a poor girl from Los Angeles that is the reason that you will get your son back.”

She seemed shocked at your strong words. She clearly thought this was a bold claim from the way her eyebrows connected immediately, scoffing in offense.

“You can say what you want about me. And you can say what you want about our relationship, but your son is in love with me. And I know that eats you up inside, but read my lips when I say that we were in love. And we made eachother happy. I will always love him.” Your voice cracked, but you quickly sniffed to pull it together. “So ten years from now when you have little grandchildren running around, making everyone in the house laugh, but Jaehyun’s sitting in the corner and you just can’t seem to understand why he looks so unhappy, know it’s because he’s thinking about me, and about how this could’ve been us if only; you didn’t make me leave.”

“You watch—

“I’m giving you what you want. So I hope your happiness continues to override his own. And I hope that whoever he does marry doesn’t have to go through half the hell I did.”

And with that, you left. Even with her yelling after you. Even when you wanted to badly to turn around, and run upstairs, because you knew he was listening. You knew he heard every word, and would probably go to cry again. But you had to. They got what they wanted. And now you had to sleep. You had a flight in the morning.

You forgot how hot the California sun could be. Especially on a day like this, where you were already in such a horrible mood, nothing felt right. At the same time though, it felt so good to be home. Even though you had only been here for a measly three days, it was so refreshing to not get weird stares and judge mental looks from people who didn’t even know you.

The streets were busy as always, people walking across the road to get to other shopping centers, but your focus was on the familiar diner that now brought you horrible memories.

God, you remember how excited you were when he told you about Johnny’s wedding. It had never even crossed your mind that it would be the last time you saw him, and the last time you would ever call him your boyfriend.

“Y/N! How was the trip!” The owner yelled in an enthusiastic tone, clearly missing your buisness.

“Good.” You responded simply, sitting down at your usual booth.

“Just good? And in that tone? Who died?”

“My relationship.” You chuckled sadly, feeling it all rush back to you at once. All the memories of you two wouldn’t go away.

“Don’t tell me…”

“Yeah.”

You hated that you sounded like this right now. This was exactly how you behaved before you met Jaehyun, and he made you bloom into this so-called beautiful human being. You always shut down.

You couldn’t see what the older man was doing. Out of your peripheral, you could see him whispering to the cook in the back through the tiny window they used to communicate.

Jaehyun hadn’t texted or called since your conversation with his mother. Maybe he hated you too. Everytime your phone would ring, or vibrate, you would rush to it praying it was him. You were so broken. All it would take is one more text, and he could have you back.

Gusto—the owner of your favorite eating place, sat across from you now. He had your favorite milkshake in one hand, and an abundance of fries in the other.

“Thought you might’ve wanted this.”

“Thank you.” You laughed, trying your best to be happy. Or at least look it.

“Listen to me doll,” his hand reached for your chin, lifting it up from its grip on the food. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do know that you are a very strong girl. You know, your dad was just like this. When him and your mom would get into it, he’d come in here.”

“Did he really?” You sniffled, being reminded about the problems you had to deal with now. You were still trying to figure out a way to approach your mom about it.

“Yeah. And he would get this exact milkshake too.”

As it had been for the last few minutes, the bell connected to the door rung; indicating someone had swung it open. Probably some teenagers who had just came from the rink.

You put the straw to your lips, knowing that the taste of Oreo mixed in with chocolate would soothe your scrambled mind even if it was for a few. It didn’t feel the same now that Jaehyun wasn’t sharing it with you, but it was still so delicious. You hadn’t even realized that Gusto had risen from his position in front of you.

Your breathing unconsciously got deeper and deeper, trying to take in all the familiar smells of LA. One deep breath, and your heart stopped. You choked on the cookie that was so close to going down your throat.

It was him. He was here.

“Jaehyun—I—

“I know you have a million things you want to say to me.” He whispered. His hair was its usual messy nature, and he was no longer in a polo, or suit as he had been during your whole trip. His grey sweats made your heart beat for a few seconds at a fast pace, but his eyes finished the job.

They weren’t swollen. If you didn’t know any better, you would even say he was happy right now. His eyes were filled with sincerity as his scent hugged you all around.

“Usually people say that when they met their soulmate, they had no idea that they’d love them as much as they did.” He began, taking your hand into his own. “But when I met you, I swear I knew. I called Johnny and told him I had met my wife. He laughed, but I knew it was true. I knew you were the one, Y/N.”

Neither of you could notice, but the crowd began to form, clearly seeing something coming that you couldn’t.

“And still, right now, I look at you and know you’re the one. No matter what anyone says. No matter who tries to stop me from getting what I want, it’ll never happen.” He sighed, reaching for his back pocket and slowly skimping down to one knee.

“Jae…” you trailed off, emotions trying to come out from your eyelids.

“Let me finish.” His voice was wavering, a clear indication that he was incredibly nervous. “I love you, baby. Every damn thing about you, I love. I love how much you love to stay at home, doing absolutely nothing. I love how strong you are, even when you don’t have to be. When every damn thing in the world is trying to get in your way, you kick it down, and I admire you. I can’t even properly get my words out because their aren’t enough words to describe you. Hell, I even love the excessive amount of ketchup you put on your fries. All of that makes you, and I want it for the rest of my life.” His hand was shaking now, but he still managed to open the box, revealing the ring that was seemingly forbidden in his family. His grandmas ring was standing right infront of you.

“Oh my goodness.” Was all you could breathe out, clutching your chest for support.

“Please, make me the happiest man in the world, Y/N. Let me show the whole world who I love. Marry me. I can’t live without you and I know you love me just as much. Please.”

The hell you went through was trying to replay through your mind like your favorite song, but you had to block it. It didn’t deserve to win in such a moment, and all your focus was on your boyfriend. The man who you would die for.

“Yes. How could I say no?” You choked out, letting him place the ring in your finger as you bounced around like a child, immediately jumping into his arms as he held you tighter than he had ever held you in your whole relationship. His face nuzzled into the crevice of your neck, and even in this crowd of people, you couldn’t save it. You had to kiss him.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered as you two embraced once more. “And I meant it when I said I always will. No matter what.”

“No matter what.” You cooed with a head tilt, pressing a teary kiss to his plump lips once again.

This was fate. This was how your story was going to end. It may have hurt like hell to get here, but you were going to marry the love of your life, and you didn’t care what anyone thought about it. Neither did he.

A/N: Wowwwww it’s crazy how long this series has been going on. I am so appreciative of the love y’all gave this, and I am truly sad to see it go. I know you guys probably hated this as the final part, but I plan to do an epilogue soon and also a surprise conversation between two people that I think you guys would enjoy. Thank you so much and I can’t wait for you guys to see the things I have planned next.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

summary: A sizzling summer of sexy singles and the search for love awaits you in Fiji! You’re nervous, excited, and— confused? Why is your ex-boyfriend’s best friend, Jaehyun, here? And why are you starting to second guess your rekindled friendship?

word count: 3.2k

a/n: this is just the beginning of this little storylne! In case you wonder what villa layout I'm using, I'm going based on the USA villa (#brinity4ever) Enjoy and if you want to get a read on the rest of 127's time in the villa, check it out here!

dividers from diviniyae and robinavitchslut

"Hello, Islanders! I heard there was a party going on!" You shout, lifting a bottle of champagne with a loud whoop.

This is it, the moment you never thought would come. Countless months of interviewing and emails with producers, weeks of being locked up in a hotel room, and a history of bad boyfriends have led you to this moment. An opportunity that not many can say they've had, but now you can.

The table surrounded by your now fellow islanders goes from frozen looks of shock to loud cheers, making you smile as you begin your stride toward the table. The nerves you felt just a few minutes ago have thankfully turned into excitement and confidence. And why not? You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, dressed to the nines and done up like a model as you strut toward the approaching group.

There's too many people that greet you in quick succession for you to get a good look at everyone's faces or to fully catch any names. Somewhere in the hurried introduction, a name and a flash of a familiar face catches a memory in the back of your mind. You don't get a chance to focus on it as the next person approaches you with a hug and a smile. Luckily, you're soon sitting around the fire pit with a cold flute of champagne in your hand and a clear view of everyone's face from your seat on the far edge of the sofa.

You're mindful of your body language, exuding confidence with perfect posture, a bright smile, and casual tosses of your hair over your shoulder while everyone goes down the line to introduce themselves.

You lift you glass to your lips just as the last guy sits forward and immediately you choke, curling forward as you croak out, "Jaehyun?!"

"Do you two know each other?" One of the girls, Bella, you learned her name was, asks, her head swiveling between the two of you.

You nod, clearing your throat, "he's best friends with my ex."

"Was," Jaehyun quickly corrects, cheeks rosy, "we're not friends anymore."

One of the guys, Sam, speaks up, "whoa, what happened there?"

"Jaehyun was the one that told me I got cheated on," you reply, hoping it comes off as nonchalant and not hurt. Lord knows your ex has done enough damage to your self-esteem, you don't need his mess to affect you in the villa too.

Murmurs erupt around the group, a mix of surprise and consolation. You shrug it off, answering questions that the islanders toss your way. You go through the usual spiel of your age, job, where you're from, last relationship, and length of said relationship.

"Wait, what's your type?" One of the guys, Leo, asks.

You hum thoughtfully, "I don't really have a type physically. I think I prefer a guy who is silly and makes me laugh, kind, good values, loyal, a gentleman, and respectful. In any sort of connection I just prefer to build a friendship before focusing on the romantic aspect."

Another guy, Ben, smacks Jaehyun on the back with a smirk, "you have an in, dude!"

You're quick to dispute any romantic interest in Jaehyun before the girls pull you for a chat. The girls break down the current couples of the house but reassure you that no one is closed off quite yet. Everyone is still feeling each other out and obviously the partnerships were based on initial physical attraction, though some girls seem more eager to close things off than others.

You all chat for a while, giving each other your worst date stories before you hear a throat clear behind you. "I was sent to call you over for your boys chat," Jaehyun states awkwardly as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

You laugh softly, taking his extended hand as you step down from the platform and bid the girls goodbye. "Funny seeing you here," you tease with a gentle nudge of your elbow.

"Of all the places on earth," Jaehyun chuckles in agreement.

The conversation with the guys goes almost identically to you conversation with the girls, but it's so obvious that some of the guys are laying the flirtation on thick. One day in the villa and they're already thirsting for the next piece of meat on legs. You wonder if they're actually here to find love or have fun. Despite that, you accept all their compliments, absorb all the information they're giving you, and even let Tony give you a tour of the villa.

Tony is nice, handsome and definitely confident. He walks you through the villa, showing you through each area. "And here we have the bedroom," he tells you with a dramatic wave of his hand, "this is mine and Mei's bed, but it can be you and I's if you play your cards right."

Somewhere on the tour of the second floor, one of the couples, Sam and Luna, join you before you all end up on the last stop, the kitchen. You're not sure how much time has passed, but you're both exhausted and happy to snack on chips while you make conversation with everyone around you.

When bedtime is finally called, you're grateful to be in a fresh room, clean faced, and in a soft bed. You settle beneath the covers and sigh happily. The first day is done, you survived and everyone seems nice. The apprehension you felt just a few hours ago is long gone, and you're relieved to have been welcomed warmly.

Over the course of the next couple days, you make your way around the villa, getting a feel of every guy, well, almost every guy. You're polite with Jaehyun but also hyper aware of how odd the situation is. You never felt romantic feelings for him when you hung out before coming on the show, so why would those feelings be there now? He was handsome, sure, that was undeniable, but why put forth effort for something you already know isn't there?

You've spent most of your few days in the villa getting to know the rest of the guys, feeling out potential vibes and connections. No one has fully blown you away, but you know you're looking to build a solid foundation of friendship before diving headfirst into romance.

Tony almost immediately took himself out of the running with his joke on night one and the fact that he is hardly subtle about keeping his gaze on your face and not your chest when he pulls you for conversations. The other girls have shared their same experiences, so it's pretty clear Tony is just there for a summer of exploring rather than actual love. He also seems incapable of talking about anything but his gym routine, his meal prepping, and his muscles. Conversations with him never seem short enough.

Thankfully, the other conversations go semi-better. Sam manages to sneak Luna into every conversation you two have which makes you melt. In the course of the week, you find yourself even giving him advice on how to woo Luna, you already love them together so you won't be stepping on any toes there. Ben is also nice, he's funny, but tells you after just a couple conversations that he's not feeling any romantic chemistry with you. You can't fault him for his feelings and you appreciate his honesty. All signs lead you back to Leo.

Leo has been nice. You both have a decent amount in common and he's very keen to get to know you, constantly pulling you for chats that always end with you clutching your stomach with laughter. As fun as the conversation are though, nothing clicks right away. There have been no sparks, but you force that self-sabotaging voice to shut up. Your journey will have to take some time, especially since you want to build a friendship first. You just have to take it all day by day.

At the end of the first week, in the middle of your conversation with Leo, your phone dings loudly. "I got a text!" You shout, jumping to stand up on the couch, "Islanders, tonight there will a recoupling, boy's choice. As bombshell, I will get the opportunity to have first pick of the boys."

The boys cheer excitedly and the girls eye each other nervously. You dance excitedly on the bench, stopping only when you hear a snort of laughter from the kitchen. You stop, a playful glare focused on Jaehyun, "I get first choice, Jae. If I were you, I'd be flirting my ass off instead of laughing at someone else's happiness."

"I'm not laughing at your happiness," he rolls his eyes playfully, "I'm laughing at those horrible dance moves."

Your jaw drops in mock offense as he shuffles away to a lounger to chat with his partner, Maya. You bid Leo goodbye as you seek out his current partner Jade to let her know where your head is at. You don't want it to be a shock to her and you certainly don't want to let your decision ruin the friendships you're already forming.

"You have nothing to worry about," Jade reassures you with a tight embrace, "I know you're not in the best spot, coming in as a bombshell and having to steal a guy. I really appreciate you letting me know though."

You let out a long exhale, slumping back against the swing seat while wiping fake sweat from your brow, "you're the best. Seriously."

Just a few hours later, when the sun has set and the cool sea breeze has begun to blow, Ariana, the host, struts toward the fire pit where you're all waiting anxiously. She smiles at you all making small talk about your experiences so far before she instructs the rest of the girls to stand in front of the fire pit and calls your name, "as the bombshell, the first choice of the first recoupling is yours. Who would you like to couple up with?"

You exhale softly, wringing your hands together as you stare ahead nervously over the flames of the fire, "I want to couple up with this person, because he's been super nice and we have good conversations. It's early days, but I think we're on the right track to building what could be a great relationship."

"So the guy I would like to couple up with is…" you pause, "Leo."

Leo beams as the islanders around you clap and cheer. He keeps an arm around you as the rest of the villa goes through the recoupling. You're hardly able to focus as your heart returns to it's normal heart rate after the anxiety of making a speech and choosing your first partner.

"Jade, as the only girl not in a couple, you are now single and vulnerable," Ariana recites, making your stomach lurch with guilt, "but you're journey isn't over yet. Get your flirt on, make some connections, and I'll see you all soon."

The tension lifts at Ariana's words immediately. You give a casual pat to Leo's thigh before crossing the deck to hug Jade and apologize once more for leaving her single. She waves you off, jokingly telling you that now she has the upper hand to get first dibs on the next bombshell to enter.

The next day, you find yourself refilling your water bottle when someone clears their throat harshly behind you. You jump at the startling sound and turn to find Jaehyun standing there with an amused smirk, "can I pull you?"

You nod, taking a sip of water before following him up the stairs to a sunken daybed that's been named with neon lights, 'Soul Ties', "don't make a habit of scaring me as your greeting."

He holds out a hand to help you down the steps before you settle into the pillows with a hum, ignoring the unexpected spark of warmth at his touch. Jaehyun extends his arms on the edge of the bed, stretching his legs out before he turns his gaze to you, "so I noticed you've been avoiding me."

You cough, cheeks hot at his bluntness, "I would hardly call it avoiding. I'm being polite, getting to know everyone, taking advantage of getting to know new people and all that."

"You've had a conversation with every guy but me since you got here. Hell, you're even talking to Tony more than me and I know he doesn't make eye contact. Yeah, you have been polite, but you've been super…" he trails off.

"Charming, beautiful, and amazing?" You offer with a smile.

"Awkward." He corrects with a straight face, "Look, I know the last time we saw each other wasn't the best time, but we were friends. We can still be friendly here. I don't want you to feel awkward around me or feel like you have to avoid me because I was the cause of your last relationship ending."

"No way!" You quickly interrupt, reaching out to place a comforting hand over his own, "my last relationship ended because of his shitty actions. You were the messenger of the unfortunate news but I don't fault you for anything. You were incredibly brave and kind to tell me that. I'm really sorry I've been weird around you. I don't want to ruin your experience here or make you feel like you can't talk to me either. You're right, we can be friends again. It's actually really nice to have someone from home here."

"It is nice," he agrees with a soft smile before letting out an exhale of relief, "How's your mom?"

Your brows furrow in confusion as you reel back, "you remember my mom? When did you guys even meet?"

"One time I had to drop you off at home when you got too drunk. You told me your parents' place was closer so I took you there. Nice lady," he explains simply. From there, it's easy to get lost in conversation. You both reminisce on your time before the villa before any drama even went down for hours, hardly even noticing the sun slowly sinking on the horizon.

In the midst of your laughter, a pair of slapping sandals draws your attention toward Maya, Jaehyun's partner who stands with her arms crossed and a smile that looks sweet at first, but the longer you look up at her, the more irritation you see. "You guys have been up here all day! I almost forgot you recoupled with Leo last night," she laughs brittly.

Jaehyun clears his throat as he stands, holding his hand out to help you up, but Maya's gaze burns, so you instead get up by yourself. "We were just catching up, we're old friends, remember?" he attempts to ease the tension.

"Right, friends. Glad to see two friends getting close. Let's go, Jae," Maya instructs, wrapping a hand around his wrist to drag him off before you can even get another word in.

The tension Maya brought with her makes your hair raise and want to get away as soon as possible. Still, you can vaguely make out Jaehyun's voice telling her, "I'd actually prefer if you called me Jaehyun."

You amble down the stairs with your brows pinched, walking across the lawn toward Jade who sits on a lounger beside Leo on pool deck. Leo perks up, patting the spot at the end of his chair for you to take a seat, "hey there!"

"What's with that look?" Jade snorts.

Your gaze is drawn back up to the second floor, where Jaehyun and Maya sit outside the beauty room in a conversation of their own. "I just had the strangest interaction with Maya, like she was mad I was talking to Jaehyun, who I've already said is just a friend, or something," you mumble as you set your water bottle down.

"Oh shit!" Leo laughs as he sits up, "I thought you were avoiding him because the girls had already given you the full rundown. Maya is… she's intense."

"Intense how?" You ask slowly.

"She waltzed in on night one and refused to actually take part in the ice breaker challenge until she had conversations 'of substance' with each of us guys because she's not looking for a summer fling—" Leo explains before Jade cuts him off.

"She's here looking for a husband," Jade chuckles as she twists her hair up and clips it back, "she deemed Jaehyun the most husband-like of all the guys and has her claws sunk in him. It's only a week in so obviously he's still taking it slow. I think her before bed conversation is how many kids she wants."

"Sheesh," you wince, "she does sound intense."

Leo runs his hands through his hair with an amused smile, "beside that, you had a good conversation though?"

"Yeah, no more weird vibes," you confirm before playfully narrowing your gaze between your two fellow islanders and a lazy point between them, "reigniting sparks here?"

"We were actually planning a threesome between the three of us," Jade quickly responds.

You tense, blinking blanky at her. Leo reaches over to smack her arm as he begins to cackle, Jade joins and you slump down in relief, joining in on the laughter. You wipe tears away from the corners of your eyes, "I think the two of you are going to be a problem for me."

Jade shrugs with a bright smile, "you'll learn to love it."

That night, after avoiding Maya and her harsh glare, you jump onto your bed and pull the covers over your legs. Leo is on the far side of the room practicing some kind of handshake with Ben. Jaehyun flops onto his back on the bed beside your own, his microphone discarded on the bedside table between your beds. Being in the bed beside Jaehyun and Maya never felt weird before, but now it does. You're overtly conscious of your actions as you keep your gaze low and pull off your microphone, winding the cord neatly.

"Hey," you hear Jaehyun say.

You peek over at him from the corner of your eye, feeling your cheeks heat at the sight of him. His hair is messy and damp from his shower and chest bare and tanned from a week in the sun. He looks unbelievably comfortable in his pajama pants but also unbelievably handsome with his glasses on. You don't trust your voice and instead arch your brow at him in response.

"Do you still like vanilla lattes?" He asks as he turns on his side to face you.

"Yes…"

"Awesome, I'll whip one up for you in the morning."

You don't even get the chance to dissuade him when the rest of the girls come pouring into the room. You instead lay down, turning to face Jade now in her own bed on the opposite side to make conversation before Leo comes to bed.

You're nearly asleep, Leo is knocked out beside you as you turn away from your partner to find a more comfortable position, when you hear a soft whisper of your name. You open your eyes, gaze unfocused for a second before you see the soft wave of Jaehyun's hand, "good night."

You pull the covers higher to conceal your smile before whispering, "good night, Jae."

a/n: There's plenty more to come including growing closer, the challenge with the kiss, and more ~tension~!!!! feedback is encouraged and appreciated <3

[cryingforjae]

[kiachiako]

j.jaehyun recs

Keep reading

[marydoyouwrite]

Back to Me

PAIRING: idol!Jaehyun x militarygeneral!Reader

GENRE: smut, angst

SUMMARY: The youngest and first female military chief is embroiled in a dating scandal. While she isn't willing to put his rumored beau at risk, the man is a willing participant, only if she would allow him.

WARNINGS: overstimulation, Jaehyun has a bulge kink, pussy eating, it gets messy at the end there's mentions of blood and violence, my military terms for sure aren't accurate so please read with a grain of salt! <3

enjoy!

8.5k word count

++++

Breaking News: South Korea's Youngest and First Female Military Intelligence Chief Finally Has a Beau?

Seoul, South Korea — In a surprising turn of events, South Korea's youngest and first female Military Intelligence Chief, General YN Park, who has captivated the nation with her unprecedented rise in the military, is reportedly no longer flying solo.

General YN, just 36 years old, broke multiple glass ceilings when she assumed the top position in South Korea's National Intelligence Service (NIS) last year. Known for her unparalleled strategic mind, her dedication to national security, and her stoic public persona, the news of her newfound relationship has caught everyone off guard.

Despite the intense scrutiny and pressure associated with her high-profile role, the General has managed to keep her private life out of the public eye until now. Rumors about a mystery beau have been swirling for weeks due to surfaced photos with a man whom other sources say to closely resemble NCT 127’s member, Jung Jaehyun.

Although no one has confirmed the identity of the man in the photos, some have pointed out that he appears to be familiar with the General’s close-knit circle.

"We’ve never seen General Park in this kind of casual setting before," said Han Min-seok, a military analyst and former intelligence officer. "It’s a rare glimpse into her personal life, and it’s sparked a lot of curiosity. Given her high profile and position, the idea of her having someone close to her is, frankly, surprising, and people are eager to know more."

Despite the media frenzy, neither the General’s office nor the Ministry of National Defense have issued any statements about the photos. Sources close to the General have been tight-lipped, and her team has refused to answer questions about her personal life. However, some insiders suggest that Park has always maintained a strict separation between her career and her personal matters.

For now, speculation remains rampant. Public reactions have been mixed, with some expressing support for the General’s right to a private life, while others are questioning the potential impact of her relationship—whatever its nature—on her leadership role. General Park’s legacy as a trailblazer for women in the military, particularly in her groundbreaking position, may be complicated if her personal life begins to overshadow her professional achievements.

One thing is certain: South Koreans are watching closely, and the mystery of General Park’s private life seems poised to captivate the nation in the days to come.

As the story develops, stay tuned for more updates on this intriguing, and increasingly personal, story.

—-----

After reading the news article, you gave the tablet back to your chief of staff. "I don't know what you want me to do about this, Yujin, but I have an audience with the President tonight."

Yujin looks at you incredulously. "Exactly my point. You don’t think he’s going to grill you on this?"

You sift through the mountain of files on your desk and let your eyes linger on the names of the people that kidnapped eight south-koreans, including the of the National Assembly’s current speaker, all in exchange for ransom and request for extradition of their Russian mafia leader. The case has been a real headache and you want nothing but to make sure you get everyone out of this chaos unscathed. 

"No, because we have a high profile kidnapping case to solve."

“You say that but the president has never missed an opportunity to inquire about your romantic stints! So can you please let me do my job and tell me if any of these are true?”

It was your turn to look at Yujin incredulously. "There's nothing. It was just dinner as friends."

"Are you sure? Because we're releasing a denial on this and you can't make me  retract this next month even if I have to resign!"

And just when you're about to answer Yujin, your cell phone goes off and her eyes go big at the name it displays. She snatches your phone before you can and answers it and puts it on speaker mode. "Speak." Yujin mouths.

You roll your eyes. "Jaehyun, Yujin is listening in."

"What the fuck, YN."

"Yujin, language." Jaehyun laughs from the other line while Yujin is seething.

You allow yourself to sit down. You also massage your temples because of how Yujin is acting at the whole thing. She’s always been efficient at being Chief of Staff ever since you took the position as Chief of Military Intelligence three years ago and while you love her persistence and attention to detail, you don’t like it when you’re the subject of it. 

"So I'm guessing you've read the articles."

"Jaehyun, are you two dating?!"

"Jae, don't mind Yujin, I already told her we aren’t and she's going to put that out."

"Wait! I wanted to talk to you about that."

"About what?"

"I was just thinking... I wouldn't mind if you said we were dating."

"What the fuck?"

"YN language."

You scoffed and blurted, "Jaehyun, we aren't dating."

You stand up from your seat and approach the window in your office overlooking the city. Your mind is racing at Jaehyun’s words mulling over what to do about it. You want to swat his soul out of his body for the irresponsibility of just saying whatever he wants. But then it’s Jaehyun, he really does say whatever he wants. 

—Beginning—

You recall how you two met. 6 years ago in New York, coming from a scalding session with your then superior, you went straight to a bar of the hotel where you were staying. You were there as part of an activity under South Korea and US’ visiting forces agreement and you had a blunder earlier that day for being provoked by a US Military Officer. You clearly let his provocation get to you so you got a good scolding from your superior. “You are above and better than that,” was what he repeatedly said. And although you’re already used to the heat of military work, you still need to blow off steam for your mental health. 

“One old fashioned.” 

You put your head down as you wait for the bartender to finish preparing your drink. You feel the shift on the seat next to you but you don’t put your head up. You’re too focused on blowing off steam. 

“Can I get a Whiskey?” At the same time the person next to you orders, your drink is ready. You lift your head to take a sip of your drink and you just stare off into space. No thoughts, just head empty.

“Ma’am?” You turn at the sound of your native language and see two pairs of innocent looking eyes stare at you expectantly. You knit your eyebrows and surveyed his whole face and decided he looked vaguely familiar to you. You can’t decide whether his face is familiar because he looks like a model for magazines or because you’ve already seen him somewhere. 

“I’m sorry, I’m Jaehyun and I’ve already done my military service in Korea. I sometimes see you at events and during our training. You’re 1st Lt. YN, ma’am.” That’s why he looks familiar. You probably crossed paths more than once. 

“It’s Captain now, but yeah, YN. Sorry, Jaehyun, is it?”

“Yes, Captain. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I didn’t expect to cross paths with you here. Are you vacationing?” 

You’re wary about sharing too much information but for some reason, the way he talks, his body language, and the slight redness in his ears, puts you at ease. So you engage, a little bit.

“I’m here for work. You?”

“I’m also here for work. Would you mind if I joined you a bit longer?”

You stared at Jaehyun and noted that your instincts and senses aren’t on heightened alert like how it usually does in the presence of a stranger. You don’t sense a hint of malice in his presence and somehow he radiates a certain kind of warmth. How he does it, you don’t know but you decide to just humor yourself.

That night, when you decided it was time to rest, you realized you had a great time. Jaehyun was a conversationalist with a tinge of naughtiness just bubbling beneath the surface of his calm demeanor. You suppose he can’t show his full self yet. Not in front of his once superior, you get that. But even with his restraint, he managed to get more than a laugh or two out of you. Once or twice, his fingers brushed with yours. And more than thrice, you saw his line of sight align with your lips. Nothing escaped you.

If anything impressed you out of the whole exchange, it was him asking for your number. He rubbed the back of his neck while asking if he could get in touch with you sometimes when you’re back in South Korea. “Although of course, I don’t expect you to. You’re the busiest!” He added.

You wanted to give him credit. You’ve talked with many men that had their intentions laid down in the open and while you’re flattered by their respect and interest, no one ever dared to ask for your number when it was time to say goodbye. But Jaehyun did. So you don’t make it hard for him and gave him your number.

You bid your farewells but you remained in touch. You eventually discovered what he does for work and was even more impressed at his talent and charisma. Needless to say, both of you remained friends with all the benefits of it, including great sex.

And god, only thinking about sex with Jaehyun is enough to make your toes curl. He was a great person and an even better fuck. No one can make you cry and beg on your knees apart from him. So you never met anyone anymore. Only he can satisfy the itch you get every once in a while. Only he can make you submit wholeheartedly.

But despite all the passionate nights, never did it progress to something more. Especially not when you were appointed Chief of Military Intelligence three years after you met. There was a quiet acknowledgment that both your professions came first above all else. 

And for your part, you could never put his life at risk. You know you were pushing it when you selfishly chose to keep him in your life. To call him when you need a little reprieve from everything. Just the possibility of your enemies targeting Jaehyun for his connection with you is enough to send your stomach spinning. And your enemies are not few. With the bold decisions that had to be made for the safety of the nation, angry people are at your left and right. You vowed to never put the people you care for in a position of danger. Especially not Jaehyun.

You snapped back into reality and addressed Yujin. “Anyway, deny it. We’re not dating. I’m no longer discussing this.”

—One—

“Jaehyun and I are dating,” the way the words rolled off your tongue was more of a question rather than a statement. You chastised yourself because did you really have to end up using this card just to get what you want? In your defense, you’re backed against the wall with no other remedy but to appeal to emotion. 

“Come again? Are you two really?” The President is eyeing you very intensely trying to figure out if you were just bluffing. You did a quick look at Yujin and saw her mouth hanging open. “YN, if you’re making this up, you know I’ll see through your bluff,” he adds.

You stand up from where you’re seated, take the Whiskey you’ve been offered a while ago, and maintain eye contact with the President. If there’s anyone who’s best at bluffing, it better be you.

“Mr. President, I tell you I want to do this mission myself but you tell me you worry I won’t be back alive. I tell you I will and that not a single South Korean will die on that night, you tell me you needed assurance. And since my love for this country doesn’t seem enough to convince you that I have the willpower of a bull to pull this off, I’m telling you that I will be back because someone I love is waiting for me. And I can’t bear to disappoint that man.”

The President stares at you, studies you, and you know your sincerity came across. Of course you and Jaehyun aren’t dating. But there wasn’t a single lie on the things you said just now. It’s not normal for the Chief to be the person on the ground doing the mission. But this time, you weighed the risks and you can’t bear having someone else do it. The potential of dying leans more towards dying versus not dying. And while you trust your subordinates, this is something you have to take.

So you weren’t lying. It’s true that you can’t bear the thought of sadness and grief taking over Jaehyun’s handsome face. Not when you’ve never even talked about feelings. You’re going to make it back alive from that mission no matter what it takes.

“Okay,” the President sighs in defeat. “But I need a run down of the plan. I need my general back and make it so until your last limb.”

You gave the President a curt nod, “On my last fucking limb,” You gave a salute to the President and walked out of the conference room. Behind you is a quiet Yujin. 

“You’re mad,”

“Of course not. Why would I be mad? We just released an article denying everything about YOU and JAEHYUN dating only for you to confirm it before the President. That’s not something to be mad about.”

You stop in your tracks and turn to face your seething Chief of Staff, “This mission is the most important to me right now.” Yujin seems to soften at the sound of your gentle tone. “And so is going back alive because Jaehyun and I aren’t dating, yet. And I want us to.”

Yujin’s eyes go big at your revelation and she understandfully nods. “Now, let’s plan this mission good,” As you walk towards your office, you send a text message to the person who has no idea what he was pulled into.

Are you free tonight? 

—Two—

1 message 

Ma’am General: Are you free tonight?

Jaehyun smiles at your message knowing that the only reason you’re sending this is because you want to meet up. And he very much wants to, too. Before he gets to respond, he’s interrupted by Johnny, “You guys down for some drinks after practice?”

“Uh, I’ll pass.” And Johnny chuckles at his quick response, knowing full well why he’s not coming. He sees Doyoung whip his head in his direction. “Jaehyun, are you meeting YN again?! I swear to god, you just had articles about you today!”

He winces at Doyoung’s scolding. It’s mild to say that the management was pissed. They were blindsided, how could they not be pissed. They learned about his “closeness” with you through the news and if that wasn’t enough, an official statement was released confirming that the two of you are in fact not dating. Talk about a whiplash. So he’s not surprised why Doyoung is feeling so sensitive.

“Ya, hyung, give Jaehyun hyung a break,” Haechan butts in. “We’re kinda too grown for this now. I think Jaehyun hyung’s age is the right age to get into dating scandals.” The youngest one winks at his direction and Jaehyun laughs at his cheekiness. 

“Thanks Haechan, but I don’t mind. I did kinda blindside everyone. But Doyoung hyung, that should be General YN for all of us.”

Doyoung just sighs and continues with practicing choreo for the group’s upcoming tour. He’ll console the older member later when he’s less angry. He knows Doyoung is coming from good intentions but Jaehyun won’t dare comfort him while he’s in his feels.

“You know he’s just worried right?” Taeyong comes from behind him while fixing his shoes.

“Of course, dating scandals are never good for idols and their groups,” he replied knowingly.

“No, that’s not why,” Jaehyun turns to Taeyong, a bit confused. “The General? Never doubted you could pull a woman like that but shit, that’s some dangerous waters. You’re aware how many enemies she has, right? Especially with some controversial decisions she made, I bet there’s a long list of people targeting her.”

Jaehyun knew. Of course he did. But someone verbalizing it like this just sends a shiver down his spine. His stomach churns at the thought of powerful people  putting a big red target on your head. And what’s worse is he’s not in the most ideal position to ensure you’re always safe.

“So Doyoung is just worried because people close to the General also become targets by default and not because he thinks this is affecting the group. Besides, Haechan’s right, it's about time we got involved in dating scandals,” you snicker at the last bit.

Taeyong taps your shoulder and you’re left to your thoughts. But as how he has approached it ever since, he doesn’t dwell on it too much because nothing good is going to come out of that trail of thought.

Technically speaking, you and him aren’t dating. But Jaehyun knows its just a matter of communication. He’s confident where he stands in your life if your moans and late night calls are any indicator of it. But apart from those things, your subtle way of caring always touched his heart. And if that’s all you can give him, he’ll take it. 

When am I never? Should I pick you up?

Jaehyun sends you a reply and walks to where his stuff is to start fixing. He finishes packing and bids the team farewell, “See you tomorrow!”

He’s going to take a good shower before meeting you. By how this day went, he’s guessing you’re going to want to melt into a hug immediately and just the thought of it puts a smile on his face. No one knows that side of you. Not even Yujin who has been with you for the longest time since your early years in the military. Only he gets to witness the soft, whiny, and sweet side of the nation’s steelhearted General. 

Ma’am General calling…

“Ma’am? Something wrong?” Ma’am has become a pet name between the two of you. He loves how the endearment annoys you just a little bit. So when you respond without any snark, Jaehyun’s a bit worried.

“Nothing wrong. Just… I kinda can’t go anywhere without my security right now. Is it going to be a bother if you went to my place instead? I have something to tell you.”

“YN, of course not. I’m just going to take a shower and head straight to where you are. Also, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yep. Just a lot of things. But I’ll tell you everything later,” you blow out a long frustrated sigh on the other line. “I’m gonna need a year’s worth of sleep after everything.”

“You need coffee, got it.”

“Shit, you’re good. That got me horny,” he chuckles and shakes his head. This is another side of you that has made him fall so hard. “See you in a bit, YN. I’ll be quick.”

—Three—

The door to your house opens and it reveals a very fresh, very newly showered, Jung Jaehyun. In his left hand is the coffee he promised you. While you want to jump him, you restrain yourself because you’re about to deliver him some news that will probably wipe the dimply-grin he has off his face.

“I want to hug you but I’m gross and you’re newly showered,” you’re slumped on your sofa and you look at the uniform you’re still wearing. Your boots are still on and your hair is for sure a mess after wearing your beret the whole day. You don’t even want to try and smell yourself. 

“You in your uniform never fail to give me a hard on, YN,” you scoff at the man who went straight to where your boots are to remove them from your feet. “You and your kinks,” you retorted.

You stare at Jaehyun who is currently untying the lace of your boots. He removes the left boot and the right and as he successfully removes both your socks, he massages your feet a little bit. Just enough to relax your soles. This man, who also must have had an equally exhausting day, went straight to give you a foot massage. 

“How does a hot bath sound?”

“To be honest, heavenly,” Jaehyun lifts his head to look at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Let me prepare one for you.” You mumble a small and shy okay before Jaehyun stands and goes upstairs, probably to your room to prepare the warm bath. 

You fidget your toes as you wait for him to come back. These things that Jaehyun is doing for you are more than just fruits of friendship, you’re sure of it. But there’s an ongoing war in your mind that holds you back. You worry he’ll resent you one day for failing to protect him both from physical and emotional harm and you can’t live with the possibility. But you want him so much since the first night you met that it’s killing you inside.

“YN, think we can get you undressed while the tub is being filled with water.”

“Yeap, okay,” you start to get up but Jaehyun stops you. So you just look at him confused. “Let me take you up.” You don’t protest his proposition as he carries you like a child in his arms. He’s carried you way too many times already to be flustered at the gesture. Hell, his tongue even tasted every inch of your skin. But even as you convince yourself that it’s not a big deal, your face betrays you. And when Jaehyun looks at you, he notices the warmth spreading on your cheeks and all of a sudden, he feels warm, too. 

Jaehyun sets you down on the bed and goes to the bath probably to check if the tub’s been filled and the water is just right. Just a few moments and Jaehyun is back with you. He unbuttons your top and hangs it up in your dresser. He unzips and peels off your pants next until you’re only in your underwear. He gives you a nice kiss on the cheeks as he removes your bra. His hands trail to your hips and the lace of your panty is just between his fingers for a second too long before he pulls it down. And now you’re fully naked in front of him. You see the up and down of his throat but in the years you’ve known him, you know he absolutely won’t make a move unless he’s done making you comfortable.

Jaehyun carries you to the bath and settles you gently into the tub. You sigh at the contact of warm water, it’s like all the worries and stress  dissipate with the steam. Jaehyun puts some shampoo into your scalp scrubber and he starts massaging your head with it.

“That feels so good,” you groan with so much relief.

“So good you can relax?”

“Absolutely.”

There was comfortable silence afterwards. You just stare at Jaehyun and his busy hands cleaning your hair and then lathering soap on your body giving your tense muscles some good massage here and there. 

“I have to talk to you about something.”

“Of course, I’m listening,” he responds as he scoops some water in his hands to wash away some soap that got too close to your eye.

“I told the President we’re dating,” Jaehyun looks at you with parted lips.

“But you said -”

“I know, but,” you sigh before continuing, “something came up.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Jaehyun asks carefully, probably being cautious about not pressuring you into divulging details you can’t share, another thing that you appreciate about him the most. 

“There’s this mission we’re preparing for. And based on my assessment, I think it’s best for me to be personally involved in it,” Jaehyun slowly nods in understanding.

“But how does that relate to you telling the President that we’re dating? But just so you know, totally not mad about it. I like it, actually.” You roll your eyes at the cheeky smile that Jaehyun whipped up. And you flicked some water towards his face when he kept raising his eyebrows.

“The President thinks it's a dangerous mission and that he could lose his Chief from it. HE doesn’t believe my love for this country is a strong enough force to push my will to live and make sure I return safe, so,” you pause and look Jaehyun in the eye, “I told him, I’m dating you. That I will be back no matter what because someone I love is waiting for me and I can’t bear to disappoint that man.”

Somewhere along your sentence, you whispered a word or two, probably the part where you professed your love for him was a decibel more fit for your K9s at work.

Jaehyun cupped your right cheek, his thumb gently grazing over your cheekbones. With this, you’re forced to look at his eyes which held emotions you couldn't fully understand. There’s warmth, and love, and then worry, and overall softness to his gaze that makes you weak.

And then, his lips brushed yours—soft, tentative, as if the world itself might break if he moved too quickly. It was so gentle, almost hesitant, but it was everything. Very different from all the kisses you’ve shared so far. All the longing, all the moments they had both kept hidden, poured into that single, quiet kiss.

The kiss deepened, his tongue begging access to your mouth, and all of a sudden nothing mattered. Jaehyun’s lips were insistent now, as though he was trying to pour all the things he couldn’t say into this one perfect, imperfect moment. When he breaks the kiss, you’re panting.

“Wow,” you breathed out between Jaehyun’s quick pecks after that breath-taking kiss.

“So what I heard is that you’re about to go into a very dangerous mission that could potentially kill you,”

“What the hell -”

“And that you will be back because you love me.”

“Uh, yes. That’s what I said.”

“Fuck.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry. It’s just that my mind is on a marathon right now. I love you, too, you must have known that for -”

“You love me, too?”

“Come on, YN, you can’t honestly believe I’d stick this long if I didn’t love you. And really, bubble baths on a weekday at midnight? Love is the only explanation for my willingness. You’re telling me you really didn’t know?” Jaehyun exclaims with a hint of offense. But the truth is you’ve known about it for a very long time. In the quietness and the loudness of your friendship, you’ve known about his love for you ever since it started to bloom.

“No, I know…” you mumble.

“Good girl. So as I was saying,” he blows out a long sigh, “I love you so much, but I’m so fucking worried thinking about what you just shared.”

“Why? Don’t trust me?”

“Of course I do, you can deadass exterminate a whole mafia by yourself.”

“Good, so don’t worry because like I said, I don’t want to disappoint this man who’s waiting for me.” you said to pacify him before reaching out to him for another quick kiss.

“Mm, YN, you know how I think you’re the strongest person in the whole world. But this worry I have is something I can’t help. So while trusting you, I will also worry about you,” 

“Yeah, okay,” you answer quietly. You can’t help but agree because you feel the same. While you trust yourself to protect him from any and all pain at all costs, you also can’t help but worry you’re going to be the greatest heartache he’s ever going to have, whether it's your fault or fate’s.

“When is this mission happening?”

“In three days’ time.”

“Shit.” You look at his face and see that there’s a million thoughts racing inside his head. You caress his face hoping it would calm and comfort him little.

“Not too much time, huh?”

“Yeah,”

“We should start fucking to reach quota, then,” you laughed too hard at Jaehyun’s attempt to make things lighter. 

“I agree, you should get started.”

Without a beat, Jaehyun is carrying you out of the tub and onto the sink that had a towel laid down. 

“Gotta dry your hair first,” He takes another towel and starts patting your hair dry. “But not too dry, if you don’t mind because your confession got me hard so fast.” You giggle at his silliness and just let him do whatever.

When your hair is no longer dripping wet, he sets the towel aside and looks at you from head to toe. He takes a strand of your hair away from your face before settling his fingers on the side of your neck. 

“So pretty like this,” he peppers your neck with kisses, his lips travelling down south to your chest. His hands settle on your hips, “So pretty and all mine.” 

His kisses trail down to your breasts, then to your stomach, then just above your slit. He gives you one last hungry look before he gives your pussy one long lick and wraps his mouth around your clit. The warmth of his mouth makes you throw your head back. His right hand gives your hip a squeeze before he brings his fingers to your core, inserting two digits at once, giving you a delicious stretch. All the while his left hand is stationary on your hip, making sure you remain where he wants you to be. 

He curls his fingers to press on the sensitive spot inside you, “Fuck,” is your only response. Jaehyun is a starved man by the way he sucks at your bud. He’s desperate to taste and drink you up. By the way his mouth and fingers are going, you know he doesn’t have to wait any longer. 

Jaehyun moves his left hand to the inside of your thighs to spread your legs even wider, to give him more access. Jaehyun eats you out with more vigor and more speed in his fingers. You let your hands grip on his hair, your eyes rolling at the sinful feeling of his tongue and lips.

“J-Jae, please!” you scream as you feel your stomach tightening. Jaehyun knows you’re close, so he guides you into that orgasm by stuffing another finger inside of you. This does the trick. You moan his name as you come undone. He removes his fingers from your core only to use both his hands to spread you open so he can lick you dry and clean. You get sensitive from his continuous lapping so you try to push his head away from your core.

But Jaehyun is feral, “Not yet baby girl. Gonna make sure I get every last drop of you.”

And you know better than to argue. So you just let your hand rest on his shoulder as you allow him to drink you to his heart’s content. Once he’s done, you’ve become a panting, shaking mess. No strength in your legs and no single thought in your head.

“Thank you, baby. Shall we move to the bed?” you don’t answer and just wave your hands at him, signalling he can do whatever he wants. And Jaehyun is more than happy to oblige. He carries you and throws you on the bed with too much excitement.

“Jaehyun!”

“Sorry, baby, you got me all worked up.” Without another word, he dives to where you are. His mouth quickly found its way to your right nipple, his next target. His left hand massaging and toying with your other breast. Without stopping his ministrations, he uses his free hand to pull his shirt off his body. Only when he needed to pull it over his head did he let go of your nipple. As he does, he tosses his clothing to the side and removes his jeans revealing his familiar yet still always mouth-watering cock. Jaehyun is a sculpture from the gods. Not only is his face and physique perfect, but his cock is, too. He is both long and thick that you always feel the stretch for days after every heated session. 

The sight gets you excited that you get up on your knees.

“Baby girl wants to suck me? Pleasure me with that beautiful mouth of yours?” you nod as you move closer to him. You take his cock in your hands and play with the tip for a bit before taking him fully in your mouth. 

“Fucking hell,” Jaehyun groans, “Pretty general, taking me in so good.” This encourages you to take him deeper in your throat. The feeling makes Jaehyun knit his brows and grab your hair in his hands. He pulls your hair, sending a pleasurable pain to your scalp. He guides you to take him even deeper, making you gag in response. Some drool escapes from the side of your mouth and the intrusion in your throat makes your eyes tear up. 

Jaehyun wipes the drool on the side of  your lips, “Want to see you cry only for my cock.” Jaehyun takes control of the pace and fucks your mouth with so much passion. You put your hands on his thigh for support, but his length accomplishes the picture he wants to see. It’s always a welcome challenge blowing Jaehyun, but the deed always brings you to tears. And there’s something about your tears that riles Jaehyun up every time. 

Seeing you look up at him crying and obediently and willingly taking him in your mouth, sends Jaehyun over the edge. “Gonna take my load like a good girl?” You nod at him as he groans and takes a few more thrusts. You gently tap his thigh encouragingly to signal him to let go. Your encouragement seems to do the thing because one more thrust and his delicious cum fills the walls of your mouth, some coming out from both sides of your lips. But as you are a good girl, you swallow everything, and even lick his cock clean. If he wants to get every last drop of you, you feel the same, too. As you continue to lick him, Jaehyun lifts your chin with his finger. He dips down to kiss you, licking your lips in the process. “Don’t you think we’re done.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” you respond with a raspy voice and he smiles at you as he guides you back down the bed. His fingers ghost over your core. Sucking Jaehyun had you dripping wet. “Still wet and ready for me?”

“Always. Still hard and ready for me?”

“That goes without saying. Now spread those legs for me nicely, baby.”

You obey his command. Jaehyun situates himself between your legs and teases your entrance with the tip of his cock that is still very much hard and proud. It’s as if he didn’t cum just a few seconds ago. 

Jaehyun tries to be a patient man but the truth of the matter is that he can never be. Especially not when you look so beautiful with your hair spread out around you, your forehead glistening with some sweat, and your cheeks stained with fresh tears. So he stops holding back and bottoms out inside of you in one quick thrust. 

You shout his name at the sudden penetration. The stretch is an addicting kind of pain. 

“Sorry, baby, this pussy is driving me crazy. I’m gonna move now, yeah?” You nod at Jaehyun, eager to feel more of him. He thrusts out half way before ramming back inside of you. You feel his tip hit a spot inside of you that makes you arch your back. The friction of his length  against your walls as he continuously pounds into you is an exhilarating experience. 

Jaehyun brings his fingers to your core. Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinches your clit sending your mind into haywire. 

“W-Wait!” you try to plead your case. By the looks of it, Jaehyun isn’t cumming anytime soon yet. If he continues to play with you like this, he’ll draw out another orgasm from you and you don’t think you can hold out. But Jaehyun is relentless. He only raises an eyebrow at your failed attempt to beg.

“No waiting, baby. Be a good girl for me and take what I give you,” he warns in a low voice. Jaehyun takes one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder to reach a deeper spot inside of you. You whimper at the change of pace, your fingers scratching his back, your other hand gripping at his hair.

Jaehyun takes your hand that’s gripping his hair and puts it over the part of your stomach that bulges with his every thrust, “Look how good you’re taking me,” he praises. He presses your hand down on your bulging stomach, adding both pain and pleasure to your body.

You suck in some air. At this point you’re breathless. Nothing but sinful sounds come out of your mouth. Your moans become higher in pitch by the moment, calling out Jaehyun’s name as if it will pull him out of the trance he’s in. It doesn’t.

His fingers are back to work on your clit, abusing it, determined to make you climax one more time. And Jaehyun succeeds. A powerful wave hits you and you almost black out. You feel every part of you shake. There’s a ring in your ear brought by the ridiculous high. But as you predicted, Jaehyun isn’t done. He continues to savor the feeling of you convulsing around him.

“Jaehyun please, need you to cum,” you beg in between labored breaths. Jaehyun manhandles you to switch your positions. Now you’re on top of him but he’s the one moving your hips up and down his cock, using you as he pleases. The new position allows you to feel his fullness even more. 

“Wanna come with you on top, ma’am,” he declares. 

Jaehyun will be the death of you. He guides your hips up and down at a monstrous pace. For every movement, your clit brushes against his base and its maddening. He reaches out to grab your head for a kiss, “Gonna cum.”

“P-Please, fill me with your cum.”

And he did not have to be told again, with one more thrust, Jaehyun came undone inside of you. You feel the warmth of his seed spreading inside of you. You slump your head against his chest without moving your hips. You’re spent. 

Jaehyun caresses your hair and you feel him plant a kiss on top of your head.

“You’re a dream.”

You can’t find the energy to move so you just lay there motionless, Jaehyun’s cock still inside of you. Meanwhile, Jaehyun rubs your hips, giving it subtle massages, before slowly slipping out of you. He changes your position to let you lay down. He adjusts your pillows and when he’s certain you’re comfortable, he gets up to get a warm towelette. Gently, he wipes the inside of your thighs clean. 

All the while, your eyes are shut, too tired to open them up. But when you feel the bed shift beside you, you open your eyes to find a smiley Jaehyun staring at you.

“You have my heart, YN, so please come back to me.” 

You smiled at Jaehyun and reached out to cup his cheek, “I’ll be back.”

–Four–

The plan was to be a trojan horse. 

True to the validated tip your office has received through a trusted mole, the kidnappers plan to abduct additional personalities to elevate the power they hold in negotiations. The targets have been identified to be the Jung sisters, daughters of South Korea’s top real estate developer, and both college students at Yonsei University. 

The group behind the kidnappings planned to abduct the Jung sisters during their ride back home from school. And that’s where you and your partner, Lt. Gen. Jennie, came into play. Both of you took the place of the Jung sisters to infiltrate the devils’ quarters. 

Now you’re here, finally leading everyone out of the building they were trapped in for months. The execution of the rescue was almost perfect. Until it wasn’t. 

Once you were abducted, you created a map of the place in your mind. Even while being blindfolded, you focused on the bits of information you can gather without eyesight. Before your eyes were covered, you noted that each of the three kidnappers carried a pistol-type handgun. And as you entered an establishment, you counted your steps and remembered every turn you took. You amplified your senses and noted every change in smell, floor feel, and temperature. You’re at a disadvantage. Entering the criminals’ den without so much as a knife is a suicide mission, as Yujin said. But you swore on your neck nobody is going to die on your watch. Not even yourself.

Your mole said there were a total of 12 armed men in the establishment, each taking turns in guarding the main room and the exit and entrance points. The plan was to separate and then meet up.  Through this plan, you can confuse and eliminate more armed men before reaching the exit of the building. Jennie took 4 of the victims with her to take a different route going to the exit while you took the other 4. 

You finally reunited with Jennie and her group and confirmed that you’ve each wounded 5 people, leaving you with just 2 more active hurdles. 

“It’s going to be okay, we’re almost out of here,” you comfort the hysterical group. Everyone is afraid and desperate to go back to their families. 

But just when you’re almost out in the open, 4 armed men are closing in on you. Two were chasing you from behind, and two were coming from the front. You wanted to shout profanities because two additional unaccounted armed criminals are going to make it harder to complete the rescue of a group of scared individuals.  But you held yourself back realizing your panic will only make everyone else panic. 

You can’t afford to get closed in on. The odds of sustaining injuries and fatalities are going to shoot up, especially in the face of desperate malefactors.

“Jennie, run behind everyone and fire the flare signal once you’re all out!”

Jennie looks at you in horror as your instructions dawn on her. You’re basically asking her to leave you alone.

“Don’t fucking hesitate lieutenant! That’s an order!” 

“Y-Yes, ma’am! Everyone, follow me!”

Leaving you alone is the only choice. You’re going to hold the kidnappers off. As Jennie and the whole group continue to run, you stop on your tracks and face the angry men. You fire two shots, successfully wounding one of  them. You have to weaken them as much as you can. Even with years of experience fighting wars, your strength is no match against 4 towering men with guns in their hands. But your resolve is the best there is.

You disarm the first man that charges at you, twisting his arm behind his back, and hitting the part of his neck with the base of your gun. The force renders the man down and unconscious. The next person charges at you with a knife which you quickly take from him. You thrust the knife deep into his thigh and butt his head twice. Once with your own head and another with the gun in your hand. 

Someone grapples you from behind and you struggle out of his hold. You take the knife out from the former’s thigh and try to reach the next one using the blade, to no avail. The man creates sufficient space between the two of you as he takes out a dagger of his own. He charges at you but as you try to charge at him too, the other conscious kidnapper pulls your leg, rendering you flat on the ground. 

The other takes his chance and stabs your leg with the dagger. You scream in anguish as you kick the second man in the face with your better leg. You take a rock beside you and smash it to the side of his head. When you see him trying to reach out for a nearby gun, you smash his hand, too. 

With one last person conscious, you will yourself to stand up despite the burn on your leg. You drop your gun and pull the dagger from your leg. You decided the dagger is going to be the weapon that helps you end this madness. With obvious rage in his eyes, the man runs at you with closed fists. You examine him, he has no weapon but his hands.

Once he reaches you, he gains an advantage with his height. He grabs you by the hips and topples you to the ground. You groan in pain at the impact on the back of your head. He takes the same rock you held earlier and bashes it against your temple. He takes the dagger from your hand and aims it at your gut. The blade comes in contact with your skin until you feel the burn ripping through your flesh.

“Fuck!” 

You stop his hands but not fast enough to prevent a puncture. The blade continues to dig into you. You feel weak and your adrenaline is dissipating. Maybe it’s because of the comfort knowing that Jennie has brought the group to safety. She fired the flare sending the signal to the team on standby a few meters away  for rescue. Your mission is done and you’re sure you won’t immediately die from a slitted gut. You’ll bleed out for a few hours first, if this man on top of you won’t rampage and inflict several more stab wounds. But nonetheless, everyone’s safe. 

You have my heart, YN, so please come back to me.

“Jaehyun!” Shit, everyone’s safe except you. You promised not to disappoint the man. So with one last surge of strength, you butt his head with yours and push him away from you. He lets go of the dagger, leaving it in you. You know better than to pull it out so you run to one of his colleagues and search his body for another weapon you can use. And you weren’t disappointed. You find a pistol and aim it at your last enemy. 

He was charging at you and this was your last chance. So with Jaehyun’s words echoing in your thoughts, you pulled the trigger hitting the criminal right in the middle of his eyes. You don’t watch him crash down because you started coughing out some blood.

“General!”

From a near distance, you see some people running to you. You make out Jennie’s face as the one running in front. Your legs give up on you and you fall to the ground. But Jennie is already there to get you.

“General! Medic’s here, please stay awake!”

You signal Jennie to come closer to you to whisper your greatest concern at the moment. Jennie obliges and listens to what you have to say intently. You whispered what you had to say before the responders surrounded you and tended to you. You’re whisked away from Jennie’s arms and into the ambulance.

You see flashes of light and everything around you is in chaos. But you couldn’t care less. Not when Jaehyun was the last face in your mind as you blacked out.

–Final–

After 86 harrowing days in captivity, the eight individuals kidnapped by a Russian-led mafia syndicate have finally been reunited with their families, all thanks to the unwavering courage of General YN Park and Lt. General Jennie Kim, who bravely undertook the perilous mission alone.

National Assembly Speaker Minseok Kim has expressed profound gratitude toward General Park and her team, especially as he is reunited with his daughter, one of the victims in this case.

The surviving members of the syndicate have been handed over to the authorities for further investigation and due process.

However, General Park remains under care at Seoul National Hospital, where she is receiving treatment for serious injuries sustained during the mission. Prior to being transported to the hospital, the General was seen whispering something to Lt. General Kim. When asked about the General’s last words before receiving medical attention, Lt. General Kim revealed, “The General asked me to tell the doctor to minimize the scarring of her wounds—she has a beach trip planned next month.”

Jaehyun humorlessly laughs at the conclusion of the news. Only you can think about a beach trip while being in the face of death. 

However, despite the light hearted news, his legs take quick and huge strides to where your hospital room is. He didn’t bother taking the back entrance, the front entrance will bring him faster to you. He knows photos of him and news about the two of you will fill the papers and broadcasts tomorrow, but he didn’t care. His thoughts are fully on you. His heart is about to give up on him and all he wants is to see and hold  you. 

He reaches the floor where you are and as expected, it’s filled with security. You don’t see Yujin anywhere to help you get inside. But its okay, you gave him something that will get him to you.

“Woah, what’s this?”

“This is my seal. I’ve requested three of these from the bureau. The other two are with my parents and this one is for you. When you need me, you show this to any of my subordinates and they’ll bring me to you no matter what. Whether I’m in a meeting or in another country fighting a war, they’ll bring me to you. Use this any time.”

Jaehyun reaches out from his pocket and shows your seal to the first two soldiers guarding the area. Recognition dawns on their faces and they let him in. The others lead you to your room and as he opens the door, there you are lying down peacefully on the bed.

He walks to where you are and sits on the side of your bed. He takes your hand in his and gives it a longing kiss. He plays with your fingers and brushes some loose strands of your hair away from your face.

And as if you sense his presence, you slowly open your eyes. Jaehyun’s eyes widen at your consciousness and tries to get up to get a nurse. But you held on to his finger and whispered with all your strength, “I-I came back.”

You catch a glimpse of a tear rolling down his cheek before he plants a long chaste kiss on your lips, “Yes,” he chokes, “Yes,  you did, baby. Thank you for coming back to me.”

[jaebronjames]

are you still at the restaurant? | JJH

pairing: ex!jungkook, idol!jaehyun x idol!reader

genre: angst, idol!au

summary: you were always so good at being fine. then his best friend became your costar and you finally pieced the last five years together and realized the man you'd spent a year grieving had already left you long before he ever said goodbye.

word count: 15.4k

warnings: emotional abuse & manipulation, cheating (sorry...), public breakup, heavy depictions of grief & heartbreak x2, bad mental health, parent's hard marriage, jaehyun himself, jaehyun is the literal sweetest

notes: hai everyone, this have been in the works for a while and i am so excited to share it with you all. i legit had chest spasms reading this so im hoping it has the same effect on you too. my first upload, enjoy!!

Before all of it, you were a person who was good at being fine.

This was, for years, your whole reputation, the thing people said about you in the tone reserved for a double meaning – she's an absolute beast, she never breaks. Three sold-out tours, a face big enough to sell out anything, a work ethic that made grown executives nervous. You had built an entire reputation out of not needing anything, out of being the one who was okay so everyone around you could fall apart in peace, and you'd gotten so good at it you had almost convinced yourself too. You could go a long time on almost. You had been running on almost since you were nineteen.

You want it understood, whoever's listening: you were not a fragile person. That matters, later. When they tell the story about you they will use the word fragile, and it will be wrong. You were the opposite of fragile. You were a woman who had been fine through things that should not have left anyone fine, and that was the problem, because a person who is always fine never learns where the bottom is, and so has no way of knowing how far she has left to fall.

You found out on a Sunday, in a restaurant, because he called.

You'd given him five years. From twenty four to twenty nine, the exact stretch of your life you were supposed to be building something permanent in, and you'd spent all of it on him. Then it ended, a year ago, and you'd spent the year since learning how to breathe around the hole. Six months since you'd last spoken at all and you had finally, finally gotten somewhere.

You want it on the record how it ended, too, because that matters for the rest. He didn't tell you– that's the part people never believe. Five years, and he didn't end it in a room, or on a phone, or even in one of the cold two-line statements agencies hand out like aspirin. He ended it in an interview on some couch, some interviewer asking the question everyone wanted answered and he just said it. Said the two of you weren't together anymore, easy, like changing his socks, and the clip was online before he'd left the building. That was how you found out your own life had changed. Not from him but from your phone lighting up, and lighting up, and lighting up, a hundred people sending you the same thirty seconds of footage, and you sitting there watching the man you'd given five years to inform the entire internet of your breakup at the same moment he informed you. 

So no, you weren't over it. But you'd stopped reaching for your phone every time it lit up. You'd stopped rehearsing what you'd say if he ever called. You'd emigrated out of the small pathetic country of maybe and then his name was on your screen and you felt the whole year of work go soft under your feet.

You said no. 

You said no first, cleanly, the way the version of you who'd done six months of hard work was supposed to say it, and you were proud of it for about two hours. And then he called again. And texted. And called. Not pushy – never pushy, that was never his method. Just there, gently, persistently, wearing the word no down the way water wears down stone, until it stopped sounding like a decision and started sounding like a thing you were doing to be difficult. He was good at that, he had always been good at making your boundaries feel like tantrums. By the third day you couldn't remember why you'd said no in the first place, only that holding the line had started to cost more than crossing it, so you crossed it, and told yourself it was closure, and hated the word even as you used it.

That was the part you'd never forgive yourself for– not that he asked. That you knew and you went anyway. You had the whole map of him memorized, every place the road washed out, and you drove it in the dark on purpose because some starved, pathetic part of you still wanted to see where it went.

You genuinely did not know why he wanted the dinner. You went in blind; every possible why was a door you'd bricked up on purpose. So you told yourself nothing, and did your makeup in the car and told yourself it didn't matter and looked anyway, and walked in with no safety net on at all, because you did not know – you genuinely did not know – that there was going to be a blow.

You want to reach back through the months and grab her by the wrist in that parking lot. Tell her the no was right, the no was the healthiest thing she'd done in a year. Tell her to stay a person who was good at being fine for even one more night.

But she can't hear you. She's already out of the car. She's already walking in.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

The restaurant was the kind of beautiful that felt aggressive in hindsight. Candlelight flickering gold across white tablecloth, soft jazz threading through the low murmur of other tables, the whole room dressed up for proposals and anniversaries and easy apologies. Serenity, paid for by the hour. You hadn't noticed, walking in, how badly that kind of serenity could curdle.

He didn't make you wait for it. You'd give him that, in the long list of things you turned over late in the morning. He didn't let you order a drink first, didn't do small talk. He waited until you'd sat down, and then he said it, fast, like ripping tape off skin.

"I'm getting married."

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You laughed. A short disbelieving huff, shaking your head like he'd said something absurd, because it was absurd, it had to be absurd.

"You're what?"

"I'm getting married," he said again.

"No, I heard you." You raised a hand, some silent plea for him to stop talking, to let you catch up, to give the room a second to stop spinning. Your breathing had gone ragged and you looked down instead of at him, and your gaze snagged on your own hands trembling against the tablecloth.

Bare. Your finger had never once sat heavy with a ring from him. Not in the whole time you were together. Not on the anniversaries you spent in different countries because the schedules never lined up. Not the night you'd let yourself hope, curled on the couch after his tour wrapped, certain he'd bring it up eventually – he never did. There was always a comeback, a rehearsal, a reason it wasn't the right time, and you'd told yourself that was alright, that some men just weren't ring people, that it didn't mean anything about how he felt.

You understood now exactly what it had meant.

Your hands didn't even look like the hands of a woman who'd been waiting for a ring. Knuckles swollen from choreography drilled into your body until it broke and rebuilt itself. Calluses over calluses. Skin split at the cuticles from the hours gripping a mic stand and the edge of a stage. This was what you'd built instead of a life with him: a career carved into the exact shape of the promise he never made. And somewhere across the city another woman was about to wear a ring on a finger that had never once had to bleed for anything.

You cleared the thing lodged in your throat and lifted your head and made yourself meet his eyes. When you spoke, your voice came out level. That was the last of the control, and you didn't know it yet.

"When's the wedding," you said.

He blinked, thrown by the dullness of it. "Y/N–"

"It's a simple question. When?"

"...Spring."

"Spring." You nodded slowly, doing math you didn't want to do. "So you proposed. Which means you've been with her long enough to propose. Which means–" and here the level thing in your voice started to hairline, "–while there was still a year ago when I thought there was a version where you came back, you were already–"

"It's not like that."

"Don't tell me what it's not like. I gave you five years, Jungkook. Five. From twenty-four. You had all of my twenties that mattered, and in five years you never once bought a ring, never once said the word, always a comeback, always a rehearsal, always not the right time." You heard your voice climbing now, and you let it. "And you meet her and it's, what, a year? Less? And suddenly it's the right time. Suddenly you know how to propose. Suddenly you're a man who gets married."

"Y/N–"

"So which was it?" You were louder now, the couple at the next table going still. "Was I the practice? The five-year practice you needed to learn how to love someone before the real one showed up? Because that's what this is. I sat in the waiting room of your life for five years thinking I was the end goal, and I was the waiting room. You kept me warm until someone you actually wanted to marry walked in."

"That's not–"

"And you didn't even end it like a person!" It broke fully now, your voice cracking loud across the beautiful room, and you did not care about a single thing in that restaurant. "You did it in a fucking interview. I found out from my phone, Jungkook. The same second as everyone else. A hundred people texting me the same clip, and there's your face, all calm like a damn maniac, telling a stranger with a microphone that we're 'not together anymore' like you were confirming a tour date. That's how I learned my own life was over. Not from you."

He had gone pale. "I didn't know how to–"

"You didn't know how to send a text? Five years and you couldn't manage a text?" A laugh tore out of you, wet and awful. "No, you knew how. You just didn't have the balls. That's the whole story of you. You never wanted to be in the room when it required you to step up. You let an interviewer end us, you let six months of silence do the rest, and now you're here doing the one brave thing you've ever done in the entire relationship and you want a fucking brownie for it. You want me to sit here and thank you?"

Silence dropped between you, thick and ringing.

"I did love you," he whispered. "You have to know I–"

"Wow." Your voice dropped too, and that was worse, because the yelling had been the only thing holding you upright. "Don't give me that. You don't get to love me in past tense across a table while you plan a wedding to someone else. You had five years to love me the way I deserved, and instead you spent them keeping your options open. So keep it. I don't want the version you only found for me once it was convenient."

You stood before he could answer, before you could watch whatever crossed his face next. Your chair scraped loud against the floor.

"Congratulations, by the way." You didn't look back at him. "I hope she gets the version of you that actually shows up."

And here is the thing you would come back to, later, on the floor, in the dark, for months. You were twenty nine years old and you still fell for it. The phone call. The soft voice. The there's something I need to tell you in person. You had said no, and he had worn the no down, and you had let him, and you had walked in with some starved part of you still half-believing a man clearing his conscience was an invitation.

You mistook a eulogy for a second chance.

You didn't remember leaving. One moment you were rising from the table, and the next you were outside, the night air doing nothing to cool the burn high in your throat, your keys somehow already in your hand.

You didn't go anywhere. You stood at the driver's door for a long moment, keys pressed into your palm hard enough to hurt, and just stopped, like your body had run out of instructions. Cars passed behind you. A restaurant door opened somewhere and let out a thread of music that had nothing to do with you. You registered none of it. You just stood there, a small stunned shape on the pavement, and understood, distantly, the way you understand something happening to a person on television, that you had just walked out of the last room where the two of you existed as a possibility, and that you were never going back in.

You just didn't know yet how far there was left to fall.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

What happened in the months after that restaurant is the one part of this you won't narrate. Not because you don't remember it but because you remember it exactly. There's a version of this story that lingers there, in the dark, on the floor, and makes a whole meal of it and you're not going to give it that. You'll only say that the wheels came off, that "fine" stopped working for the first time in your life, that there was a stretch where the one person who'd known you since before all of it stopped believing you when you said you were okay, and started just showing up. You survived it. That's all it needs. There is exactly one person who ever got to hear the rest, later, all of it, and when you get there you'll understand why it was him.

The engagement went public six weeks after the restaurant. The wedding was set for spring.

And in the spring his wedding was supposed to own, the movie came.

The script arrived on a Thursday and you didn't open it until almost midnight, because you'd learned by then not to trust yourself with anything that mattered on an empty evening.

You told yourself you'd read ten pages. You did not stop at ten pages.

It wasn't that the story was yours – it wasn't that clumsy and if it had been you'd have thrown it across the room. It was worse. It was specific in ways that had nothing to do with you and true in ways that had everything to do with you. The woman on the page would go back to a thing that was ruining her and call it love, because the alternative – admitting it had never really been love – was a floor she couldn't stand on. She had a scene, near the end, where she says out loud that she doesn't know the difference anymore between being loved and being consumed, and you read it once, and then again, and then you had to put the pages facedown on the comforter and sit very still with your hand pressed flat over your own sternum, like you could hold something in that direction.

You picked it back up. You always picked it back up. That was maybe the whole problem, in short.

The confirmation call came two days later, your manager’s voice bright and disbelieving, because apparently half the industry had told the director he was insane. A pop star. In this. In a Verhoeven film, of all films, playing a woman who unravels in real time across ninety devastating minutes.

"He said–" your manager was laughing, somewhere between proud and stunned, "–he said he saw five seconds of some old interview where you went quiet, and he knew. His words. 'She's already halfway to the performance. She just needs somewhere to put it.'"

Somewhere to put it. As if the last year had been proof of it. As if all of it – every silent night, every clenched jaw, every time you'd smiled through something that should have defeated you – had simply been material collecting, waiting for a director with sharp enough eyes to notice you were carrying a performance around and had nowhere respectable to set it down.

"Tell him yes," you said, before you'd finished deciding, and hung up, and stood in your kitchen for a long time with the script open on the counter to the page about not knowing the difference between being loved and being consumed.

You didn't let yourself examine, not yet, why the words on that page had felt less like fiction and more like something you'd have written yourself, if you'd ever once let yourself write any of it down.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You didn't ask who your costar was.

That should tell you something about the state you were in. You, who used to read every contract twice, who used to know the name of every person in every room before you walked into it. You said yes to a script and a director and a plane ticket and let your team handle the rest, and you did not once ask the single most obvious question a person asks about a film, because asking would have meant caring about something, and caring cost more than you had.

So you found out the way you found out everything that year: too late, and all at once, with no warning at all.

He was already there when you walked into the cold warehouse for the first table read, across the room in a coat that wasn't his either, and it took your brain three full seconds to do the thing it did not want to do, which was recognize him. You knew that face. Everyone who had ever been near Jungkook knew that face – his best friend, the one from the predebut photos, the one who had been at the blurred edge of five years of your own memories, in the background of a hundred rooms you'd shared with a man who turned out to be a stranger. They had cast you opposite the person closest in the world to the one who had hollowed you out. Nobody in that warehouse knew it and you had walked in blind again. 

The floor did the thing that floors had been doing to you for a year.

You got through the handshake. Ninety seconds, a ‘looking forward to this’, your face doing the professional thing while the rest of you screamed. He seemed unfairly calm and you hated him for it immediately, the way you were going to hate him for many things over the next twelve months. You did not know yet that the calm he harbored was armor, same as yours. You only knew that of every actor on earth, the universe had handed you this one, and that you were going to have to spend a year three feet from a living piece of the thing that had ended you.

You decided, standing there, exactly how the year was going to go. You were going to be a flawless professional. You were going to give this man – this extension of Jungkook, this same world, this same easy charm that had cost you five years – not one inch of yourself. You were going to hate him silently and just, from a safe distance, and go home whole.

It lasted about forty minutes.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

Verhoeven didn't believe in a comfortable rehearsal. He believed in throwing two actors into a room and making them run the ugliest scene in the script cold, on day one, before either of them had the chance to be polite about it. Which was how you found yourself, forty minutes after learning who you'd be spending a year with, already screaming at Jungkook's best friend across a fake kitchen about a decade of damage that belonged to two people who didn't exist and some of it, God help you, was real.

He was better than you expected. That was the first problem. You'd braced for an idol playing dress-up, and instead you got a man who came at the scene like it cost him everything, who didn't flinch when you went for the throat, who gave it back just as ugly and just as true.

"Cut." Verhoeven, not even looking up from his monitor. "Again. And this time actually hate him."

"I do actually hate him," you said, breathless, and it got a laugh out of the crew, and it was more true than any of them knew.

But it wasn't the scene you'd remember about the first day. It was the thing he said after. When Verhoeven finally called it and wandered off to torment the cinematographer, Jaehyun didn't do the thing actors do, the shaking-it-off, the whew, intense. He just looked at you, still catching his breath, and said, quiet, almost apologetic:

"You didn't act that."

"What?"

"The part at the end where she stops yelling and just asks him when. You didn't act it. That was real and I don't know what it's real about and it's none of my business. I just wanted you to know I could tell the difference." A beat. "For the record, most people can't."

And then he handed you a water and turned to find his mark, easy, like he hadn't just reached into your chest on the first afternoon of filming and put one finger on the exact bruise.

So, you hated him for it. Actually hated him, hot and immediate, more than the scene had asked for because of every person alive who could have seen through you on day one, it had to be him. It had to be the one man in the world you'd promised yourself you'd feel nothing for. You had walked in armored specifically against this man, and he had found the one gap in it before the first day was even over, and you understood, with a sinking certainty, that keeping him at arm's length for a year was going to be much, much harder than you'd planned. You resented him, purely, for making it so.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

The whole year was a war you didn't want to fight, and lost anyway, one inch at a time.

London was first – a soundstage on the city's gray edge, six days a week of a marriage falling apart in slow motion under fluorescent tubes. And it was there that you started, against every intention you'd walked in with, to learn him.

You learned to speak to each other in coffee, because it was safer than words. It started as a joke and stopped being one. He took his differently every day depending on how the work had gone – black when the scene had been brutal, sweet when it had been tender – and by the third week you could read the whole shape of his day off the cup in his hand before he said a word, and he could read yours, and neither of you ever named that you were tracking each other this closely. It was easier to know how he was doing than to ask because asking meant admitting you wanted to know.

And the mornings. You started getting to set ten minutes early for no reason you would ever have said out loud, and he did too, and every day you arrived into that same overlapping ten minutes – crew not in yet, coffee not hot yet, the two of you in a cold soundstage with no scene to hide inside – and you'd stand near each other and talk about nothing. You hated that you looked forward to it. That was the part that undid you a little each morning: you'd wake up and catch yourself glad, and then remember whose best friend he was, and lie there furious at your own traitor heart for warming to him, of all the men on earth. You never planned it. You never mentioned it. You just both kept engineering your way into the same empty ten minutes, morning after morning, like two people accidentally arriving early to the same church.

There was a night in London, late, the crew thinned out, where he had to hold your face for the shot. Just hold it. His hand at your jaw, your marks taped to the floor, the cinematographer calling for a few degrees more toward the key light. And you stood there with a man's palm against your cheek under a hundred watts of borrowed daylight and felt your own pulse give you away against his thumb, and watched him feel it, and watched him decide – the way he decided everything that year – to say nothing. He turned your face to the degree the light wanted. He did not look at you like a colleague. Neither of you mentioned, when they called cut, that his hand stayed a half-second past the shot, or that you let it.

By the end of London you'd stopped correcting people when they called you close. There wasn't a truthful correction left to make.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

Portugal was where your own body stopped taking your side.

The script wanted the two of you tangled up on camera. Three weeks of affair sequences, heat and salt, and a director who shot intimacy like it was violence, in long unbroken takes that gave you nowhere to hide. You'd rehearse a kiss the way you'd rehearse a fight: clinical, marks and angles, his hand goes here, you turn on this line, mind the light. A dance. And then they'd call action, and every single time, without exception, it would stop being choreography somewhere in the middle and you would not be able to say precisely when.

That was the terror of it. Not that you kissed him – you were paid to. That you couldn't see the end of the tunnel. You'd come up out of a take lightheaded, heart going, and not be able to locate the exact frame where the job ended and the truth started, because there wasn't one, because it had stopped being pretend so gradually and so completely that the word pretend had quietly lost all its meaning while you weren't looking. You'd lie awake afterward trying to draw the line in retrospect – there, that was acting, and there, that was me – and you never once could, and the not-being-able-to was worse than any confession, because a confession you could have taken back.

There was a night, two in the morning, in a courtyard behind the hotel, both of you too wired to sleep after a scene that had left the whole crew silent when they called cut. You were sharing a bottle of something cheap and local straight from the neck, and he was quiet in a way he usually wasn't, turning the bottle in his hands, and then he said it, low, not performing anything:

"I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending some of this is pretend."

You didn't answer him. You couldn't. You sat there with your heart going and said absolutely nothing, and he let the silence sit without trying to fix it, and eventually you both went back to your separate rooms and you lay awake until dawn telling yourself it had been the wine talking. For both of you. That was the story you needed, so that was the story you told – and he let you have it, because he was kind, and because neither of you was ready for what would happen the day one of you stopped being able to lie.

What you didn't know, lying there deciding it was the wine, was that he'd meant it stone sober, and that he was already carrying, by then, the one piece of knowledge that made every honest thing he wanted to say to you impossible. He wanted to tell you the truth in that courtyard. Two different truths, actually. He got to say neither. You just thought he was being quiet.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

Berlin was the worst of it – dull, industrial, endless. The ugliest fight in the script, shot for four days straight, the same wound reopened from a dozen angles until you'd stopped being able to tell, in the fifteen seconds after Verhoeven called cut, whether the wet on your face was the scene or you. Four days of screaming a stranger's grief that kept coming out in your own voice. By the end you were both sanded down to nothing – no charm left in him, no armor left in you, two people who had spent four days taking turns destroying each other on cue with nothing left over to rebuild the distance.

There was a moment on the last night, wrap approaching, when you ended up on the floor of a freezing soundstage with your backs against the same equipment case, not touching, not talking, both of you just staring at nothing while the crew struck the set. You didn't say a word. You didn't have to. There was a strange exhausted intimacy in the quiet after, the kind you can only reach by going through something that costs you both. He passed you his water without being asked. You drank it. That was the whole conversation.

It was more than you'd said to anyone in a year and you hated, sitting on that cold floor, how much you hadn't wanted him to get up.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You keep going back to one night. You've started going there the way your tongue goes to a chipped tooth not because it helps, but because you can't leave it alone.

It was near the end, though you didn't know it was the end. That was the whole cruelty: you thought you were near the beginning. His tour had wrapped and he'd come home – actually home, for once not counting down to the next thing – and you'd spent a whole Saturday doing nothing, and that evening ended with your head in his lap on the couch, some movie neither of you watched throwing light around the room, his fingers moving slow through your hair. And you had been happy. That's the part you can't get past. Not content but happy, all the way down, the kind you're almost afraid of. You'd lain there thinking this is it, this is the part where it finally gets easy, five years and we made it to the easy part, and you'd been so full of it you had to hold still to keep from crying, and you'd thought about rings and decided not to say anything because you didn't want to rush the one perfect evening. There'd be time. There was going to be so much time.

And now you sit with the timeline in your lap and you try to find it – the end, the tell, the moment. You replay that whole evening frame by frame looking for the place it should have shown, where a smarter woman would have felt the cold spot, and you cannot find it. You've looked a thousand times. His hand in your hair was not the hand of a man already gone. His voice was not the voice of a man with buried secrets. There was nothing to catch, nothing at all. He was that good, or you were that far under, or both.

Because he'd been with her for months by then.

That's the part that stops your breath, more than the cheating, more than the wedding: that you were never once given the chance to know. You can't pinpoint when. You've tried and tried and you cannot find the day the spell should have broken, because he never let it break. He kept you under it right to the end, kept his hand in your hair and let you plan a future out loud, and the last genuinely happy night of your life turned out to be a performance you gave yourself an audience of one for. You were the only one in the room who thought it was real. And when you finally found out, it reached all the way back and took that night too – the last good one, the one you'd been quietly saving – and left you with this instead: a woman frozen in headlights she never saw coming, still, even now, half-wishing she could go back to not knowing.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You did the math on a Tuesday, in a hotel room, on a day you weren't even filming.

It was the timeline that finished you. You'd been running a merciful version for a year without ever admitting that's what you were doing. The one where he met her after, where whatever it was grew up clean in the empty space once you were already gone. It was the only story that let the last five years stay the shape you'd thought they were. And it survived right up until the night you finally did the solving you'd been refusing to do: how long an engagement like that takes to arrive at, how long two people have to have been standing next to each other before a man who couldn't say the word ring in five years suddenly knows how to marry someone in one.

The numbers didn't work. They had never worked. You'd just needed them not to, badly enough that you'd never once sat down and added them up. She wasn't after. She was during. She'd been there in the margins of the last months you spent believing the two of you were building something – the tour that wrapped, the couch, the night you let yourself hope – while he was, it turned out, already–

You didn't finish the thought. Your body finished it for you. Not the placeholder. Not even the five-year rehearsal. The cover. The presentable girlfriend, a careful man keeps lit in the front window while the real thing happens in a room without any.

You were still sitting frozen on the edge of the hotel bed when Jaehyun knocked – there for a read-through you'd both forgotten about – and let himself in when you didn't answer, and found you with your face doing something you had no ability to control anymore.

"Hey. Hey, what happened–"

You didn't have words. You just told him the math. The timeline. The couch. All of it, in pieces, because he was there and you had run out of the ability to hold it alone.

And something was wrong with his face.

You were too wrecked to name it at the moment, but some animal part of you clocked it and filed it away: he didn't go through the sequence a person goes through hearing something for the first time. No surprise. No arriving information. Just something folded away fast, careful, and a hand – you noticed later – that was shaking.

He sat on the floor in front of you, not the bed, so he could look up at you instead of down. He stayed. He said all the right things and it would be three days before you understood that the shaking hadn't only been for you.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You asked him three days later, on a lighting break. No accusation in it yet, just a question you needed answered.

"You weren't surprised when I told you. You weren't surprised at all."

He didn't lie to you. You'd give him that much.

"No," he said. "I wasn't."

The set kept going around you, oblivious, cheerful, someone laughing near the snack table, and you felt the floor of the last three days split wide open.

"How long?"

"Y/N–"

"How long, Jaehyun?"

"Since before the film." His voice had gone very careful, a man picking his way across something he knew was going to destroy under him no matter how gently he stepped. "He told me himself. Months back, drunk, guilty sick with it, needing to set it down on somebody. That it started while you were still his."

The words landed and kept going, all the way down, into the place the math had already dug.

Because here is what you understood, all at once, standing in that trailer and it was so much worse than the cheating, the cheating was almost the small part:

You had spent a year grieving him. Come apart over him in ways you'd never let another living person witness. Laid on floors with chest pains too unbearable to describe. Learned to breathe around a hole the exact size of a man. You had mourned him the way you mourn a death because that was what it had felt like, the loss of the great love of your life, the one who almost, and there had been no great love – that was the math. There had been no one on the other end of a year of your grief. You had mourned, honestly, completely, a man who – at the very moment you were still choosing him, still curled on a couch believing he'd finally say it – was already hers. You had out-loved him at his own relationship, a full year after it ended, alone, on a floor, for a man who had never once in five years loved you with even a fraction of the completeness you were, at that very moment, wasting on his memory.

Your grief had been the realest thing in the entire five years and it had been for no one.

"You knew." It came out flat from underneath everything. "The whole year! Every single time I fell apart in front of you, every time you sat on a floor with me while I cried about losing him, you knew there was no him. You knew I was grieving a man who'd been cheating on me while I still thought we were building something. You watched me mourn a lie harder than that liar ever came close to deserving and you let me keep doing it. Do you understand what you let me do to myself? I humiliated myself for a year in front of you. Then you decided I was better off not knowing, because handing me the truth was harder for you than watching me keep bleeding was for me."

"That's not–"

"Tell me it's not the same as him and I will lose my mind! He decided what I got to know to protect himself. You decided what I got to know to protect yourself from being the one who broke me. Same choice, same result. I'm the last one to find out my own life, again, standing in another room, across from another man explaining how his silence was a god given act. You're reading from his fucking script. Word for word."

You watched something rise in him, something colossal he was working very hard not to say. Jaw tight, hands curled at his sides, a whole sentence straining to get out and you watched him swallow it, on purpose, rather than hand you one more thing on the worst possible day to hold it. You'd think about that except this time in the shape of a man biting down on something huge.

"You're just like him," you said instead, a whisper, which landed worse than the yelling. You watched it hit him like you'd reached across and struck him because his entire quiet horror all year had been the terror of being anything like the man who did this to you, and you knew that, and you aimed for it, because you were bleeding out and he was the only one standing close enough to cut.

You walked away before he could answer. 

He let you.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You didn't speak for a stretch of days that weren't in the script. You lost the count somewhere in the second week – you, who used to know exactly how many hours you'd gone without sleep, without food. You stopped counting on purpose. Counting meant admitting the silence was a thing with teeth.

You did not forgive him. The distance just got sullen, which is not the same thing as gone. The last six weeks were by every professional measure, the best work either of you did all year, because neither of you had to reach for the wound anymore. You were just standing in it. 

There were nights – a hotel hallway at three a.m., both of you too wired to sleep, three feet apart in the dark with nothing safe left to say – where the old gravity tried to reassert itself, and every single time, one of you found the discipline to walk away first. You were never sure, afterward, which of you it cost more.

The last day of shooting, in his trailer, going over blocking that turned into something else.

"So that's it," he said, dejected in a way that scared you more than yelling. "We wrap tonight and we just – Just go back to being two people who made a movie together once."

"I can't do whatever this is right now," you mumbled. "I don't know what's real anymore. I don't know how to separate the part of this year that was actually us from the part that was two exhausted people playing pretend so well it stopped feeling like pretend. I'm not going to stand here on the last day and let either of us say something we can’t take back, especially when I don't trust my own read on any of it."

He didn't argue. That unnerved you more than a fight would have. Something in his face just shut off, reluctant and deliberate like a door pulled shut by someone trying, even now, to be gentle with you on his way out of the room.

"Okay," he said. Just that.

You did the scene. It was, everyone said later, some of the best work either of you had ever done. Nobody asked what it cost.

You flew out the next morning. He texted you once – three words, safe flight, Y/N – and you stared at it on the tarmac and typed and deleted six replies and sent none, and by the time you landed the window had closed over like water. A year like that was always going to end on some kind of sour note. At least this way nobody had said the one thing neither of you could take back.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

The film went into post-production and the two of you went back to your separate lives, and for months there was nothing between you but professionally worded emails cc'd to a million other people. And then, two weeks before the premiere, the first trailer dropped, and the internet lost its entire mind.

It showed almost nothing, by design. Your face in the dark, his hand at your jaw, a single line of his voice, low: I don't know how to stop wanting you and I don't know how to survive wanting you either. But it wasn't only the film people reacted to. It was a year of the two of you spotted at airports, a year of paparazzi photos, a year of fans building a shrine of evidence out of nothing but proximity and matching exhaustion in your eyes. 

The way he's looking at her in that one frame is not ACTING. 

So the two stories collided into one breathless narrative the whole internet seemed to have been waiting to tell itself: something happened on that set, and the world was about to watch the proof of it walk a red carpet.

"There's a betting market, Y/N," your publicist said, somewhere around the seventh call. "On whether the two of you arrive together."

You hadn't spoken to Jaehyun since the wrap.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

By the morning of the premiere, people had been camped outside the theater for days, and you understood, watching the footage, that you were about to attend the public exhibition of the worst year of your life.

You had made a masterpiece. The trades said so, the nine-minute ovation overseas said so. And you'd made it out of grief – real grief, poured in nightly, the container Verhoeven had seen you carrying and handed you somewhere to set down except now you knew what you'd been grieving. You knew the man on the other end of all that devotion had been gone before the story even started, already hers, while you wept into a role about a woman consumed by a love that ruins her. You had built the best work of your life as a monument to your own faithfulness, and the thing you'd been faithful to had never once existed. And tonight several hundred people were going to rise to their feet for it.

You saw Jaehyun before the carpet, and the sight of him did the old thing to your chest and the new thing to your stomach at once. The pull that hadn't died, tangled now with the fact that he'd known, that the last real thing you'd said to him was that he read from the same script as the man who broke you.

"You don't have to say anything," he said under the noise, smiling for a lens. "All I’m asking is that we get through the next two hours side by side without the cameras figuring out what’s actually going on between us. After that, you never have to look at me again. I’ll make sure I do my part."

"Then do it," you said, smiling too, and hated how much it cost you to keep being angry at him.

You'd been told Jungkook was invited – him and her. You'd spent the flight and the fitting and the whole carpet braced for it, for the specific humiliation of smiling through a premiere while the man who hollowed you sat somewhere in the same dark watching a stranger's beautiful rendering of what he'd done.

He came, of course he came. You saw him across the lobby, her on his arm, and you waited for the old blade but it never came. You looked at the man you'd given five years and felt something closer to nothing than to anything and you watched him do the thing you knew intimately: hesitate. You could see the whole calculation move across his face from across the room – come over and do the gracious public thing, or stay put and nod. He'd never once decided these things cleanly. He chose the coward's middle: a small, careful nod, from a safe distance, and then he looked away.

Fine. Nothing. You could do nothing.

And then Jaehyun moved.

You felt it before you saw it. The shift beside you, a body deciding to go somewhere and you turned to find him already stepping off, jaw set, heading across the lobby toward your ex with the clear intention of handling it. Shaking the hand, doing the warm public two-shot that would tell a hundred cameras there was no story here.

"Jaehyun." You caught his sleeve. He stopped. "What are you doing?"

"Just getting ahead of it. If we're friendly on camera then it kills the speculation before it starts, you don't have to deal with any of the–"

"So that's another one." Your voice came out strange and you watched it stop him. "Another man who's decided, without asking me, that I need saving from something. You're going to go handle my ex-boyfriend for me in front of the cameras to protect me like I'm not standing right here. Like I didn't handle that man for five years before you ever knew my name."

"That's not what I–"

"It's exactly what it is. It's the whole thing, actually. It's the entire fucking thing you keep doing." You saw it land, saw him understand you weren't talking about the lobby anymore. "I don't need you to step in front of anything for me. I need you to stand here and let me not care, which is the one thing I'm finally able to do, and you walking over there to manage it takes that away too. So don't. Stay. Be professional. Let me handle my own life for once, everyone in it keeps forgetting I can."

He stayed. It cost him something; you could see it. And Jungkook, across the room, never came over at all. He'd made his little cowardly calculation and stuck to it, and the two of you never exchanged a single word the entire night, and the strangest part, the part that hollowed you out, was how completely you did not care.

Your anger was still there, hot and whole, exactly where it lived now. It just wasn't pointed at the man who'd earned it. It was pointed at the one standing next to you, wound tight from being told to stand down – the one you couldn't stop being furious at because you couldn't stop wanting him which was going to be so much worse than hating Jungkook ever could have been.

Then the lights went down and you had to watch it. From the outside, scored and lit like a dream, it looked like the great tragic love story of the year. The audience wept. You sat in the dark and understood you were watching several hundred strangers be moved to tears by your devotion to a lie and that they'd call it beautiful, and be right, and that this was perhaps the loneliest thing that had ever happened to you. Somewhere to your left you felt Jaehyun not watching the screen. Watching the side of your face instead. The one person in the room who knew none of it was a love story, that it was a documentary of a woman grieving no one and you let him, and you hated with your whole chest that the only person who understood was the one you couldn't forgive.

The credits rolled. The room stood, all at once, that festival roar that means the thing you bled for has been received. You stood too, and clapped, applauding alongside a room applauding you. And across the aisle, in all the noise, Jaehyun's eyes found yours. For one long moment the room narrowed to just the two of you, the way it had a year ago in a fake kitchen except now there was a truth in the six feet between your seats that neither of you knew how to carry, and you were the one who looked away first.

You lasted an hour at the after-party. And then you understood with the whole room toasting a monument to nothing, with the one man who knew standing across it unable to reach you, that you were about to come apart in public, and you would rather have died.

So you ran.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You left the same night, on a red-eye before the coverage had finished uploading. Your team put out a statement about promo obligations back home. It was technically true, there were things scheduled and it was also, you knew, and the one person who'd known you since before all of it knew, not remotely why you'd gone.

You went home not to your apartment – all the way home, to the small town you'd clawed your way out of, the one nobody who knew the version of you on the billboards would ever think to look for you in, to the house your mother still kept exactly as it had always been, down to the crack in the kitchen tile you'd made falling off a chair at seven. You ran backward, is what you did. Past the tours, past the face big enough to sell out arenas, all the way back to the girl who'd existed before any of it, to find out if there was still anything under the performance at all.

An ocean of nothing away – no, not an ocean, that was the strange part; he'd gone home too, back to his own life, his own promo and schedules and a comeback a year in the making – Jaehyun went back not knowing a single thing about what was happening to you. He was in the same country, sixteen hours of nothing between you, both of you performing fine in a language you'd both spoken since childhood, and he had no idea you had gone home to fall apart.

You didn't go home to heal. You went home because it was the only place left with no cameras in it, and you had understood, somewhere over the water, that you were finally going to fall all the way apart, as yourself, for the first time since you were a girl and you did not want a single lens on your face when you did.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

It came for you on the fourth night, under a ceiling you'd memorized at fifteen.

There was no reason for it to be that night in particular. That's the thing about a bottom you've spent a decade refusing to reach: when you finally stop holding the floor up, it doesn't wait for a good reason. You were sitting on the edge of the bed you'd slept in as a girl, and you weren't crying, and then you were, and then you were crying in a way that had no name and no bottom to it – the kind that isn't about any one thing because it's about all of them at once. Five years. A restaurant. A ring that was never yours. A whole year spent pouring yourself into a woman who wasn't real because it was safer than being the one who felt it. A man you'd taught yourself, muscle by muscle, not to want. And under all of it the thing you couldn't say out loud even alone: that there was no script anymore. No character. No cut. No Verhoeven to say that's enough, we've got it. Just you, as yourself, feeling the entire thing you had spent your whole life being too fine to feel.

You had been so afraid of exactly this. That was what you understood, down on the floor of it that you had built a whole life out of never once finding out what was at the bottom, three tours and a reputation beyond you, all of it scaffolding over a drop you were certain no one could survive. And here you were, finding out, and it did go far. It went so much further than you had ever let yourself guess was down there. And the terrible joke of the whole thing was that you survived it anyway not gracefully, not admirably, just factually, one wretched hour after the next, until the window started bleeding at the edges.

Your mother found you sometime before dawn. You didn't hear the door. You just felt the mattress dip and then her hand between your shoulder blades, the same hand from thirty years of mornings. She didn't say it's okay, because it wasn't, and she had never once lied to you. She didn't try to lift you off the bottom either. She seemed to understand, the way she understood most things without being told, that you had needed to get here. That a person who has never once been to the bottom spends her whole life terrified of it and that the only cure for the fear is the floor.

"I've got you," she said. That was all. "You don't have to be fine. Not here. I've got you."

You cried harder because you were twenty nine years old and you were not certain, at that moment, that anyone had ever said that to you and meant it without needing something back for it.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You stayed down there a while. Days. The version of this story where one good cry fixes a decade is a lie, and you were done telling yourself lies. The climb back wasn't a climb so much as a series of small refusals to stay on the floor – you'd get up, make coffee, be almost okay for an afternoon, and then some nothing would take you out at the knees, a song, a smell, the slant of afternoon light, and you'd be right back down, and your mother would find you and not say it's okay and just sit. Grief, it turns out, isn't a slope. It's weather, it comes when it comes.

There was a new thing in it now, one that hadn't been there the first year. It arrived late and it arrived hot, and it took you a while to name because it didn't feel like grief. It was rage. At Jungkook, some of it though you were startled by how little landed there, how fast the anger blew through him and kept going, like he wasn't solid enough anymore to hold it. Most of it was at yourself. For the year you'd wasted grieving a man who was never there. For the honest, humiliating devotion you'd poured into a memory that hadn't earned a second of it. Some nights you'd get so angry you'd walk it off in the dark down streets you grew up on, cursing under your breath at no one, at every soft story you'd ever told yourself instead of just doing the fucking math.

Your mother was one pillar of those weeks. The other was a voice on a phone.

She'd known you before all of it before the tours, before the billboards, back when you were two nobodies splitting a single order of fries between auditions, laughing on the floor of an apartment with nothing in it. She was the last person alive who talked to you and not to the idea of you, and she never once dropped her whole life to come running, because she didn't have to; she just always answered. Four in the morning your time, she'd pick up like she'd been sitting there waiting, from the middle of her own ordinary life an ocean away, and let you talk, and say the truth.

You told her all of it, finally, one of those nights – the film, the costar you hadn't known about until you walked in, the year, the piecing-it-together, the couch, the thing underneath everything. She listened to the whole thing without once interrupting, and when you got to the end of it, to the part where your grief had been for no one, she was quiet a long moment, and when she spoke her voice had gone very careful, very level, which was how you knew she was furious.

"So let me make sure I've got this," she said. "That man cheated on you for months. Kept you as a cover. Let you find out you were dumped from a phone screen. Sat you down a year later to tell you about the wedding like he was returning a library book. And you have spent two years including a whole year watching you disappear into grieving him like he died. Like you did something wrong."

"...Yeah."

"Baby, listen to me. I have been so cautious with you for two years because I thought you'd lost the love of your life but you were mourning nothing – there was no love of your life. There was a coward running a con and you gave him the most honest grief I've ever watched a human being produce, and he didn't earn a single second of it." Her voice cracked. "You didn't waste it. That's the part I need you to hear. All that love you poured into no one – it was real. It came out of you, it was yours, it was real. He just wasn't worth catching it. That's his tragedy, not yours. You're not broken because you loved somebody all the way. You just aimed it at a man who was never going to be big enough to hold it."

You cried then – a different kind than the fourth night, the kind that comes when someone finally names the thing you've been too fine to name.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

He didn't call. That was the first cruelty, and the weeks made it worse instead of better. Instead, things arrived.

He wrote to you once, early on. Not a text – a letter, actual paper, his shit handwriting, mailed to your mother's house like it was 1950. Three pages. You read it once, fast, standing at the counter, and then you couldn't touch it again for days, because one line had gone in somewhere and struck you. Something about how your grief had hurt you and he'd found he could sit next to slow. You shoved the pages in the drawer of your childhood desk, you didn't throw them out. You didn't let yourself ask why.

Some nights a piece of it came back on its own – a woman breaking quietly was something I could stand next to and call it love – and you'd lie there and hate him. He'd understood himself that clearly, clearly enough to write it down, clearly enough to make it beautiful and understood you, and had all of it mapped, every gap in you and exactly how to stand in it, and he'd done nothing. He'd known precisely what he was doing the entire time and picked it anyway, and then had the gall to be eloquent about it a year too late. That was the part you couldn't forgive. Not that he failed you. That he saw the whole thing coming and stepped aside and let it hit you, and could only bring himself to name it once the damage was permanent and cost him nothing to admit.

A voicemail came at four in the morning your time, from a makeup room, between the schedules he was somehow performing through. You didn't answer. He didn't call twice. Thirty seconds, and it unraveled you: No need to call back. I know the time is stupid. I just wanted to hear what it sounds like to talk to you, even if you don't hear it for a while. Everyone here keeps asking about you and I keep saying nothing, and it turns out saying nothing about you is just another way of thinking about you all day. I hope your mom's feeding you. I hope you're not being fine. Okay.

I hope you're not being fine. You played it more times than you'll ever admit, and every time you hit that line you had to put the phone down, because it was the most intimate thing anyone had ever said to you and it came from the one person you'd sworn you were done trusting.

There was one line from the letter you never told anyone about. The one that actually did it. You went back to the drawer for it exactly once, at one in the morning, and read it and then never again because you couldn't afford what it did to you: You kept asking me why I was so good to you. I wasn't. I was good to you with one hand so you'd never look too hard at what I was doing with the other, and it worked, and you thanked me for it. You thanked me. I sat there and let you thank me. I don't know how a person is supposed to live with that and I'm not asking you to help me figure it out. I just needed you to finally know the truth about one man in your life, even if it's the one telling it to you.

And that was the one that started something turning in you, very quietly, against your will not because it asked for anything because it didn't. He wasn't angling for a call or a second chance or absolution. He was just, for once, telling you the whole ugly truth with nothing in it for himself, and after two years of men deciding what you could handle, a man finally handing you the worst of it plainly even though it cost him everything and bought him nothing was the first thing in a long time that felt like respect.

Your mother caught you with the letter in your hand one morning, your face doing something you couldn't hide fast enough.

"He apologize right, in it?" she said, mild, pouring coffee. "Actually right… Not the kind that's really asking you to make him feel better?"

"...Yeah. He did."

She nodded slowly, like something had been confirmed. "Your father never once apologized right in thirty years. Not once. Every time, it was something he wanted from me. There's a difference between a man who's sorry and a man who just wants to stop feeling bad, and I spent most of my life not knowing there was one, and it cost me more than I'll ever tell you." She slid the mug across the counter. "I'm not saying forgive him, baby. I'm saying I watched you not be able to throw that letter away, and I want you to know that it means something even if you're not ready to know what yet."

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

The thing that finally broke you was the silence you'd asked for.

For weeks he'd reached out – never pushing, never asking for anything back – and you'd answered none of it, and told yourself the not-answering was a wall, and told yourself you wanted him to stop.

But then he did. It came as a text, which was almost funny after everything, like he'd finally understood three pages was too much to ask a person to hold and shrunk it all down to the smallest possible thing:

I think I finally understand what you've been telling me by not answering, and I'm sorry it took me this long to hear it. I'm going to stop now not because I've stopped. I want to be honest, I haven't, I don't think I know how. But I keep promising you I'll never again decide something for you, and you've decided this, and the least I can do is respect it instead of making you keep saying no to a man who won't stop asking. So this is the last one. I hope you get everything. I mean that. Take care of yourself, Y/N.

And you sat on your childhood bed with your phone in your hand and felt the floor drop out in a completely new direction because the wall you'd been building had a door in it the whole time, and you'd been counting on that door, living off the fact of it, the quiet certainty that he was still on the other side reaching for a handle you refused to turn and now he'd stopped reaching. He'd given you the exact silence you'd demanded and it was the worst thing that had happened to you since the restaurant. The realization came all at once, final and undignified and far too late: you didn't want the wall, you'd never wanted the wall. You'd wanted him to keep loving you through it forever so you could stay safe behind it and never risk anything and the second he did the one decent thing, the second he finally respected your no, you understood you were about to lose the only thing you actually wanted out of pure fucking cowardice, and that if you let this text be the last one you'd spend the rest of your life knowing you'd done it to yourself.

You called him. Your hands were shaking so badly it took three tries.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

He picked up on the second ring, which meant he'd had the phone in his hand, or near it, the way you suspected he'd kept it near for weeks.

"Hey." Careful, hopeful in a way he was audibly trying to mask, and failing.

"Can you come here?"

A pause. Not hesitation but recalibration. "Where's here?"

You told him the name of a town he'd never heard of, and how far it was from Seoul, and heard him already moving, already reaching for something, a man torching a schedule in real time without saying so.

"When?" 

"Now if you can. I know you can't–"

"I'll be there."

He was there before dark. You found out afterward what it had taken – a manager screamed at, an appearance rescheduled with a cover story, fifteen years of favors called in on a single afternoon. He drove the whole way himself because he couldn't sit still in a back seat and when you opened your mother's front door he was standing there rumpled and red and holding nothing, having packed nothing, having simply left.

Your mother took one look at the two of you, picked up her keys, and announced she had errands that would take her hours. The second mercy she'd handed you that month without being asked.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

He sat at your mother's kitchen table under the light you'd grown up under and he didn't push. He just waited while you stood at the counter because sitting felt like more than your body could sign up for.

"I spent these weeks trying to figure out if you were the same as him," you said. "That's the real reason I ran, not the premiere. That. Because from where I was standing it looked fucking identical – two men, two secrets, me the last one to know my own goddamn life, twice. I couldn't find the difference and it was driving me insane, because I needed there to be one so badly and I couldn't prove it."

He didn't defend himself. He just waited, which was the only reason you could keep going.

"Then I got it and it's so simple I hate that it took me this long. He did it to me, Jaehyun. You just knew. That's the whole difference and it's everything. He's the one who cheated. He's the one who lied to my face for months. He's the one who kept me around as a fucking cover while he built a whole life with someone else and let me think I was building it with him. That was his to tell me, every day of it was his. He did the thing, then he walked away clean, and left me to come apart over it for a year like it was somehow my fault."

Your voice cracked and you let it.

"You didn't do any of that. You kept his secret, and that was a shitty thing to do, and I am going to be furious about it for a long fucking time. I'm not going to sit here and pretend it washes off but you didn't do it. You didn't break my life. You just didn't tell me it was already broken and you're the only one – the only one – who actually stayed. He blew the whole thing up and disappeared, yet, you've spent two years standing in the middle of a mess you didn't make trying to help me carry it, and it was never even yours to carry. That is not the same man and I almost threw away the one thing that could've saved me because for weeks I couldn't tell you apart from him."

Here, finally, in your mother's kitchen, was where the thing he'd been biting down on for a year got out because you'd said the one thing that let it, because you'd finally told him he wasn't Jungkook, and something in him just came apart at the seams.

"I love you." It came out wrecked, nothing careful left in it, no walls up, a year and more of held breath let go all at once. "I have loved you since a fake kitchen and a scene I wasn't supposed to mean. I loved you through the worst thing I've ever had to carry. I loved you through every single day you spent hating me for being his friend, which you had every right to, and I loved you through you not looking at me, and a premiere where I stood next to you pretending I wasn't pointed at you like a compass, and weeks of talking into a silence I deserved. I have loved you so long and so amicably that I forgot it was a secret I was keeping too, and I am so tired of keeping secrets from you, I am so tired, I can't do a single one anymore, not even this one, especially not this one–" He stopped, breathing hard, eyes glossy. "I'm not telling you to get it back. I need you to hear that. You could tell me tonight you need another year and I'd go home and wait. I'm telling you because you spent two years learning what it looks like when someone decides you're not worth the truth, and I needed you to have, once, in a kitchen, with nobody watching, the exact opposite of that. The whole truth. From me. On purpose. Because I love you, and I am done being one more man who decided you couldn't handle it."

You were crying before he finished, the exhausted, unglamorous kind, from somewhere structural, and you did not make yourself stop because you were done performing composure for the one person who had never once been fooled by it.

"I'm scared of you," you said. "That's the thing under every other thing. Not of you but of what you are to me. Of how much of me is already yours without my permission. I did the math on the plane home and it came out the same no matter how I moved the pieces: I was always going to give you this. Whether you sent letters or nothing, whether you showed up or didn't, whether you earned it or just kept breathing. My stupid heart decided it a long time ago and never once asked me, and everything since has been me standing guard in front of a door that was already unlocked, calling it caution." You wiped your face, furious and laughing at once. "Do you understand how humiliating that is, for someone like me? I built a whole personality on being the one who decides and you just  existed at me, patiently, until the guarding got too heavy to keep doing."

"That's not humiliating," he shushed. "That's the bravest thing I've ever heard anyone say."

"I love you too." It came out rough and unpolished, entirely unlike anything you'd have written for a scene, which was exactly how you knew it was real. "I have for longer than I've been willing to know and I'm still scared, and some of that's never going away, it's just going to live in me but I'm done pretending the fear is the same thing as the truth. The truth is I love you, and I've been loving you for two years in the most backwards, lame way a person has ever done it, and I'm so tired, and I want to rest, and I want it to be with you."

He crossed the room and pulled you up out of the doorway into the kind of hold that had nowhere left to hide anything in it, and you let yourself be held, all the way, for the first time since a restaurant taught you it wasn't safe to and his heart was going hard enough that you could feel he wasn't calm either, wasn't composed either, was just braver about it, or maybe only more practiced at hoping.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

The two years that followed were, by every ordinary measure, unremarkable, which was precisely what made them extraordinary to you.

You learned the specific luxury of boredom with him like arguments about laundry that dissolved into laughter, the particular safety of falling asleep on a couch on a Tuesday with absolutely nothing at stake. He turned out to be, once the walls was fully down and there was no one left to perform for, a complete and total disaster of a human being: a man who narrated his own cooking, who lost an argument to a houseplant, who had opinions about breakfast cereal that he would defend to the death. The charming, composed man from the first table read had been the mask. This idiot was the truth, and you got to keep him, and you'd never in your life been so relieved to be handed someone's worst self.

Trust wasn't a door that opened once and stayed open. It was something you both kept choosing to leave unlocked, morning after morning until one day you noticed you'd stopped bracing when you woke up, because the furious mornings had stopped coming, and neither of you could say exactly when.

Somewhere in the second of those years, he decided to marry you.

You didn't know that at the time what you knew was that he'd started acting strange. A specific brand of strange you couldn't place, going stiff and weird at random moments, freezing up when you'd reach for his hand across a table or wind your arms around him from behind while he was doing dishes. He'd go rigid for half a second, some panic flickering across his face, and then overcorrect into being weird and jokey, and you started to worry that something was wrong.

What was wrong was that he had a ring, he could not keep the secret, and it was slowly killing him.

You'd get the whole story later, in pieces, from him and from the one person he'd told. He'd bought it in secret which for him, now, was an act of nearly physical agony, because somewhere in the wreckage of a year he'd become a man who could not lie to you, could not hold things from you, had rebuilt his entire self around the promise of never again keeping a single thing you deserved to know. And now he was keeping this, a good thing, a happy thing, the biggest one, and his body did not know how to tell the difference between a secret that would hurt you and a secret that would give you everything. It just knew he was hiding something from you and it revolted. Every time you touched him it was there in his chest, the thing he wasn't saying, and he'd freeze, because the one instinct he'd spent two years building was screaming at him to just tell her, tell her, you don't keep things from her anymore.

He'd called your best friend about it, which you'd also learn later, in gleeful, humiliating detail because somewhere in two years he'd become a man who called your best friend when he was scared, and she, who had promised to end him personally if he ever hurt you again, had become someone who picked up.

By her account, the call went approximately like this:

"Okay so I'm gonna ask her to marry me. And I have – I got the ring, and I can't – Noelle, I can't hold it, I physically can't, do you understand, every time she hugs me I nearly just say it, I almost said it at dinner on Tuesday, over noodles, she literally only asked me to pass the napkins!"

"Breathe."

"I don't know how to keep a secret anymore. I broke that part of me on purpose and now I need it for one nice thing and it's gone. I keep freezing and she thinks something's wrong. She asked me if I'm okay. I said 'noodles.' I just said 'noodles,' Noelle, I’m going insane like actually!"

"Do you have a plan? A place, a speech, anything?"

"I had like nine plans and I hated all of them. Everything's too big and we both know she hates big things. Big is what he did, big is a restaurant and a ring in a box after five years of nothing, I can't do a version of anything that man would've done–" A pause. "I don't have a plan. I just have this thing in my chest that gets worse every day and a ring in an underwear drawer and no idea how a normal person does this."

"An underwear drawer?”

“Okay, genuinely, listen to me." And here, she told you, her voice went almost soft, which for her was a national event. "Stop planning it. You're not a plan guy, you're a disaster, it's your whole appeal, I don't know what she sees in you but it's clearly the disaster. Don't build a moment. Just.. The next time you're both normal beings, guard down, doing nothing, and the thing in your chest gets to be too much – let it be too much. Let it fall out of you. That's the one thing that man was never once capable of. Being unable to hold it. You've got the one quality he never had and you're treating it like a bug. Now hang up, I have a life."

"...That's either the best or worst advice you've ever given me."

"It's both. That's my specialty. And Jaehyun, if you make her cry the wrong way, they'll never find you."

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

It happened on a Thursday, at home, over nothing.

There was no restaurant. No candlelight. No speech – he never got to give a speech, which turned out to be exactly right because a speech was a thing you prepared, and the whole point, the thing that finally loosened you, was that he hadn't prepared any of it. It was late afternoon, gold peaking through the kitchen window, and you were doing something aggressively unremarkable. Arguing with him about whether the leftover pie in the fridge was still good, a genuinely stupid argument you'd been having in various forms for two years and you'd said the pie was too sweet, like you always did, and he'd said he was going to eat it anyway, like he always did, and you'd looked over at him standing there with a fork and the whole ordinary golden nothing of it, both of you entirely yourselves, no cameras, no performance, no version of either of you that anyone else would ever get to see.

And you watched something move across his face. The stiffness. The freeze. Except this time it didn't pass, this time you watched it lose. You watched two years of a secret he was never built to keep finally win the war against him in real time, watched his whole face just give up the fight, and he set the fork down, and said, "Oh my god, I can't – I have to tell you something, I've been – okay, hold on–"

And then he went to the underwear drawer.

He came back with the box in his fist and he was already a wreck, ears red, hands unsteady, and he opened his mouth to say the thing he'd clearly wanted to say correctly for months and none of it came out right, none of it came out planned, it just spilled:

"I've had this for a while. A long while. Longer than I should've, and I couldn't tell you, and it's been killing me, I can't keep things from you anymore, I broke that on purpose, and it turns out I can't even keep a good one. I've been so weird, I know I've been weird, that's what the weird was, it was this, it was always this." He was fumbling the box open and it wasn't cooperating and he swore at it, and you were laughing so hard. "I don't have a plan. I didn't plan this, I planned a hundred versions and threw them all out because they were all too much and you hate too much. Then just now you were being annoying about the pie and it was so – it was so us, it was so normal and so ours and I looked at you and I want every single afternoon to be exactly this stupid for the rest of my life, and I couldn't hold it one more second. I'm sorry, I know I'm doing this so badly–"

And then he dropped the ring.

Actually dropped it like got the box open and his hands were shaking so hard the whole thing tipped and the ring came loose and hit the kitchen floor and rolled, and he said "no–" and went down after it, on his knees on the tile by the cracked spot, and came back up flushed and disheveled with it pinched between two fingers, and you were fully crying now, the good kind, because this was the least composed you had ever seen a human being and it was the most loved you had ever felt in your life.

"Okay. Okay." He was still on one knee, because he'd ended up there chasing the ring and figured he might as well stay. "Marry me. That's the whole thing, I don't have more than that, I had more and it's gone, I just – marry me. Please? I can't keep a single secret from you and this was the last one and I need it out of my chest, it's yours, they're all yours, everything's yours–"

And then you actually looked at the ring.

And you stopped breathing.

Because it was everything. More than you would ever, in a thousand years, have let yourself pick out more than you'd have thought you were allowed to want, so far past what you'd have managed for yourself that it took a second to understand he'd chosen it precisely for that. He'd known, somehow, the whole story of a bare finger and a promise never made, and he'd gone out and gotten its exact opposite: the loudest, surest, most unmissable answer to a question a different man had let hang for five years without ever asking it.

"It's a lot," he said, watching your face, still on his knee on the floor. "I know, I did that part on purpose, it's the only part I planned. You spent five years being somebody's maybe. I wanted you to wear a yes you could see from across the room."

You said yes before he finished the sentence. Of course you did. You'd been saying yes to this man since a fake kitchen you'd walked into hating him, you'd just needed two years and a night in your childhood bedroom to catch up to it. And he made a sound like all the air left him at once, and got up off the floor too fast and nearly fell doing it, and got the ring onto your finger with both your hands shaking, and there was pie going stale on the counter and gold light in the window and absolutely no one watching, and it was, without competition, the best moment of your entire life. A man who couldn't keep a secret from you now wrecked by the joy of it, unable to hold one more second of a good thing he wanted you to have.

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

You kept it quiet for a month, the two of you. You had earned the right to guard your good things but it was always going to come out. So when the moment came, he made absolutely sure it came on his terms, and not the internet's.

It was a junket for something else entirely. A drama he'd wrapped, a hotel conference room, and you were there because you'd had a meeting across town and come to steal him for dinner, standing at the back of the room behind the cameras, half in shadow.

The reporter saved it for last, the way the good ones do. "Two years of speculation. The photos. The premiere, all that time ago. Anything you'd finally like to say about the two of you?"

There it was. The optics. The same optics. A room, a microphone, a stranger politely asking a man to define your life for the record. You had heard a version of this question answered once before, from a couch, by a man who'd said the two of you weren't together anymore as easily as confirming a tour date, and let you find out with the rest of the internet. You felt your whole body go still at the back of the room, bracing on pure muscle memory for the sentence that ends a life.

You watched Jaehyun start the dodge, the little laugh, we're close, the film meant a lot. You watched him get one breath in.

Then you watched him put it down.

He looked for you first. Found you at the back, past the lights, the way he always did checking the person he was about to talk about was in the room to hear it. Something in his face settled.

"Yeah. I'm not doing the usual answer this time. There's nothing to speculate about. We've been together for two years. A month ago I asked her to marry me, on a Thursday, in our kitchen, over a slice of pie she'd already told me was too sweet and she said yes before I finished asking, which, if you knew her, is the most romantic thing that has ever happened to a person."

The room made a sound. He didn't hear it. He was still looking at you.

"I could've let this leak. That's how it usually goes, someone gets a photo, someone does the speculating, and she finds out her own news the same second as strangers. I didn't want that for her. Not again." He held your eyes through every word and you understood he had chosen each one, that he'd been carrying this sentence a long time, waiting for a room to set it down in. "I wanted her to be able to point at the exact moment the world found out and say – I was there. I was in the room. He looked right at me when he said it." A breath. "Anyways, we're getting married. She's standing at the back and she's the whole reason I'm bad at answering this question. I've spent two years keeping her out of rooms like this one to protect something good and I'd have kept doing it forever if she wanted. But I'd rather say it myself, out loud, with her here, than let it become one more thing that happens to her. She's had enough of those. So, yeah, you can run all of that."

You did not have to piece it together from a stranger's video this time. You did not have to sit in a parking lot and learn your own life last. You got to stand at the back of a bright room and watch a man take the exact situation that had once killed you and aim it, on purpose, with his whole shit eating face, at the single most careful act of love anyone had ever shown you.

Here is the thing you'd come back to, later, not on any floor this time, not in any dark. Just idly. Doing dishes. Stopped at a light with nowhere to be, the ring catching the sun.

You had spent your whole life being good at being fine. It had been the truest thing about you and the loneliest. The woman who stayed okay so everyone around her could fall apart in peace, who never let a single soul see the bottom because she was so certain of how far down it went.

You'd found out, in the end, exactly how far down it went. You'd gone all the way to the floor of yourself, alone, in a childhood bedroom, and it had gone so much further than fine.

Someone had found you there anyway. Stayed. Come the whole way, without knowing what he was driving toward. Chosen you out loud, on the record, in front of the exact machine that had once broken you without even noticing it was holding a life in its hands.

You weren't fine anymore. That was the gift you hadn't known to ask for. You were something you'd had no word for at nineteen and were only just learning to hold – chosen, held, home – and it was so much better than fine that most days you could hardly stand it.

Your hands had bled for everything you'd ever gotten. This was the first thing that never once asked them to.

You'd only had to survive long enough to stop being afraid of letting it in.

[loveyladyfingers07]

[silvert4bby]

me scrolling through my own blog

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

the post-concert pics of jaehyun in the white tee and backwards yankees cap and his silly poses are making me think of finance bro!jae attempting to relive his glory days or something, like maybe it's a mini crisis he's having bc he's 30+ and a dad now and he's trying not to feel old. curious how sweets would react! would love if you wrote something about this 🫶

Finance bro!Jae needed a comeback yayyyyyy! Everyone say thank you anon!!!!

-

You loved the way your life had turned out. You had a beautiful house, bigger than you even needed when you and your husband, finance bro!Jaehyun had bought it, you loved your job, your husband was amazing, and you had two perfect kids.

Jaehyun agreed, though after getting a text in the once very active Nu Chi brothers group chat, he began to spiral. He used to be such a social person, living his life to the fullest, partying every week, no responsibilities beside turning in his homework and paying his dues. He lived half of his week in the gym and now, the only work outs he was able to get in consistently was chasing after his two year old. Looking through old pictures, he began to feel self conscious. He used to have washboard abs, thick biceps and carry you without breaking a sweat. Now, if he held his 11 month-old for longer than 20 minutes, his arms felt sore.

You noticed a change, but didn't say anything as it wasn't obvious or worrisome. He wasn't being avoidant, he was present so you didn't see it as a cause for concern. You didn't even object when Jaehyun asked if you would be alright with staying home with the kids while he went to the gym for a couple hours. You were glad to give him the time he needed to feel like himself again.

Then came one eye-opening summer weekend. You were busy cleaning up around the house, still wearing your damp bikini after your kids had begged to go play in the kiddie pool. It wasn't the type of bikini you'd have worn ten years ago while in college, but then again, you weren't partying and hoping to keep the attention of your situationship. You were a mom hanging out in her front yard with your two babies.

Your ears perked up at the sound of Jaehyun's car in the driveway, but still, you carried on cleaning up the mess of the day. The door opened and you turned to greet him, but froze with an armful of building blocks. The sight of Jaehyun in a backwards cap and plain white t-shirt wasn't a foreign sight, but in the past few years it had been. You hadn't seen this look since your 20s.

Jaehyun stepped out of his shoes, taking his cap off for a second to push his hair back before putting his hat back on. He stepped closer to you, placing a hand on your waist and a kiss on your cheek, "hey Sweetness, how were the kids tonight?

"They were good, went down easily after the pool. I haven't seen this look in a while," you mumble, shamelessly letting your eyes drag over his from with a mix of hunger and suspicion.

Jaehyun nods, "started looking through old pictures and thought it would be cool to revive the look."

You hum, thinking over his words before realization hits you, "you feeling nostalgic?"

"Something like that," he replies shortly. It's just a few moments later when he let's out a long exhale, "I don't look the way I used to. Started feelin' weird about it."

"You're 10 years older than you were, baby. Of course you look different," you state softly.

He shakes his head, tongue peeking out to trace along his bottom lip in deep thought, "I used to be fit. I had abs and big arms. I didn't have any gray hairs, my knees didn't hurt in cold weather, and fuck, I used to be hot as shit, Sweetheart. I was at the top of my game."

He sinks back into the cushions of the couch and drags his hands over his face. You abandon your chores and squat in front of him, drawing his hands away from his face with gentle hands, the sight of your husband with tears in his eyes breaks your heart. "Baby, there's nothing wrong with you now. I love you now, probably more than I did 10 years ago. You're still handsome, you still make my heart race, you're still the sexiest man I've ever seen, but now you're also the best dad. You're the best husband and you weren't either of those things in college. Those are good things, aren't they?"

"The best things," he nods, "I wouldn't trade our life for anything in the world."

You stand and sit in his lap with a smile, "I think time has been very good to us. I love our life, I love you, our kids, and our house. Sure, we don't look or feel the way we used to, but baby, we're a total milf and dilf couple."

He laughs heartily, hands on your bare waist as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips, "I do have a very sexy wife. You're even more attractive after carrying our kids."

"You just like how big pregnancy and breast feeding made my boobs."

He nods, brazenly dropping his gaze to your chest and bites his lip, "and filled out your hips and gave you your beautiful stretch marks."

You let yourself melt into his embrace, enjoying the silence of your house that only comes after the sun has set. Your fingers play with the tufts of his hair at the back of his neck affectionately before an idea hits you and your smile turns into one of excitement as you sit upright, "hi, I saw you from across the party and couldn't keep myself away." His brows pinch softly and you laugh softly before whispering, "play along."

"I'm glad you came over," he replies awkwardly.

"Are you a Nu Chi brother? I think I've seen you around here at their parties? Do you have a girlfriend?" You ask, hoping that you're being more obvious with your intentions now.

"Oh!" He exclaims with a smile before locking in, "yeah, I'm a brother here. I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you here before, but my room upstairs is empty if you're open for a tour."

"I'd love a tour," you play along, batting your lashes.

That night, Jaehyun is extremely grateful for the thick walls of his house in comparison to his old frat house, but he's even more grateful for you. He didn't think his insecurity would result in his wife initiating role play, but hey, he won't complain. He'll just have to put his hat back on when he wants to relive his college days instead of escaping to the gym. Your shared time in bed is certainly the best form of cardio.

[jhdyuiee]

Million Dollar Baby !

▫️pairing: idol husband!jaehyun x fem!reader

▫️tags/warnings: fluff, smut!, kissing/making out, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), 69, multiple orgasms, multiple positions (doggy, mate press, riding), breeding kink, creampie, breast play, biting, squirting, cursing, pet-names (baby&wife), absolute filth (sorry 🫠)

▫️w.c: 3.0k!

▫️a.n: god jaehyuns prada outfit this year had me combusting & having such obscene thoughts… this man truly shines! the title is homage to the song he chose for his original ig post hehe. anyhow i hope u all are well & i just got back from my trip & started taking a summer course so i hope i’m able be a but more active! stay safe & i love u all!! jiji out 🤍

+ + +

One long flight later, we arrived in Milan! We were only here for about two days, Jaehyun needed to shoot something for Prada so I tagged along. Unfortunately we left our kids behind with his parents whilst we came here.

“It would’ve been nice if the kids came,” I whispered to Jaehyun as we walked through the airport. It was quite crowded, fans stormed everywhere. It was only 3 in the morning, and here they were trying to get pictures and signatures from Jaehyun and occasionally from me as well. I wasn’t too big on the spotlight, but nonetheless it would follow me everywhere I go.

Jaehyun leaned down to my ear, a couple fans squealing. “Yeah, but I’m just excited to finally spend some time alone with you.” By alone he means absolute filth. I pinched him, causing him to chuckle. “Don’t forget you’re here to work!” I reminded my dear husband.

“Right,” he says in a strange tone, and it was only then that I realized what he would mean.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Finally having arrived at the hotel we would be staying at, his manager called him to take him away. He became incredibly clingy, not wanting to leave my side. “You’ll be back,” I reassured him. “But being one second apart from you saddens me,” he says. I sighed, opting to just pat his head. “NOW GO! I don’t want your manager getting upset with either of us now,” I told him.

Jaehyun reluctantly got up from my embrace. “I’ll try to finish and come back as fast as I can,” he said, kissing my cheek. I smiled, “Alright! I love you, have fun.”

I watched as he left our room, and then turned around to unpack. We wouldn’t be here for long, but nonetheless I had to do something. When I finished unpacking I laid on our bed, grabbing my phone. I was met with a message from him. God, this man really can’t go a second without me.

Jae <3 : Do you want me to bring back something to eat, or should we just get room service?

I’ll just get us some room service, makes you come back quicker.

Jae <3 : Ha, missing me already darling?

More or less.

Jae <3 : Oh, just wait til’ I get back.

Can’t wait!

We’ve been married for some time now and we still act like we’re in our honeymoon phase. Not even after having two kids has our love stopped. As I recounted our time together, I ended up falling asleep. The jet lag must’ve hit me.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

I hear the faint calls of my name. I try opening my eyes, only meeting a blurry figure. I wait til’ my eyes refocus, finally focusing on the figure. Jaehyun.

He smiled, “Rest well?” “Mmm,” I muttered as I tried looking out the window. The sun shining, so I wondered what time I must’ve been. 2:00 p.m, the clock read. “All finished?” I asked him, extending my arms.

“Yup, and like I promised I rushed back here,” he said, taking my arms around his neck and holding me in his lap. “You hungry? I didn’t get a chance to order the fo-“ I said before I was interrupted by his lips clashing into mine.

I moaned in surprise, his kiss was surely hungry and needy. He grabs the back of my head, deepening the kiss. He slips his tongue inside my mouth, practically consuming me. My hands start moving around his neck, urging him to come closer. I end up straddling his lap as we passionately kiss one another. I felt him smirk, whilst we kissed when I began grinding on him.

“Needy already baby?” he says against my lips. His lips no longer on mine, but all over my face– kissing my features. “Keep going,” he whispered into my ear. His hot breath turned me on even more. I did as he said, grinding more against his hardening cock. His hands traveled along my back, until they reached my ass, leaving behind a hot trailing blaze. The contact of his hardened cock and my needy pussy, left me so wet that I was sure if I were to get up right now, you would be able to see it on his pants.

Jaehyun’s lips reached my collarbone, where he gently bit into my skin. I winced in pain, but the feeling was also pleasuring. “Take it off,” he mutters against my skin. I begin taking off my shirt, throwing it somewhere in the hotel room. “How are you always so gorgeous, my wife?” His subtle comments always leave me a scrambling mess.

His lips made their way to the plush of my tits, kissing them delicately whilst his hands made their way up to unhook my bra. Once it was off and thrown somewhere in the hotel room, he began giving them his utmost attention. He alternated between the two: sucking, licking, and biting my tits. The tug on my nipples left me chanting out his name like a prayer. My own hands now tugging on his soft strands of hair.

“Such perfect tits, love 'em most when they’re all swollen and big.” Jaehyun kisses my tit and fondles the other, “How about it? Wanna have another one?” He lets go of my tit with a pop, looking at me with those chocolate-colored eyes of his. “God, yes!” I moan rather loudly. His lips clash onto mine again, going a tad bit more gently than before.

I should’ve known what it meant to accept his offer. Jaehyun was a determined man, he was going to make sure I got pregnant by the end of the night no matter if it meant staying up until the sun rose…

All our clothes were gone, scattered everywhere along this hotel room. Jaehyun laid his back on the bed, while both of my thighs were on either side of his head. I lowered myself a bit further down until I felt his wet muscle kitten lick my wet cunt. I let out a low moan and then a slightly louder one when he began licking my cunt up just a bit faster.

His hands worked their way with my thighs, squeezing them and then fondling them before electing one slightly harsh slap on my ass. The slap caused my body to fall forward, my face facing his aching hardened cock.

I practically drooled at the sight. His red tip leaking with pre-cum, I wanted nothing more but to take it in my mouth.

And so I did. I started with swirling my tongue on his tip, eating away his pre-cum. Then slowly beginning to sink my mouth into his cock even more. I felt as he let out muffled moans onto my cunt, eliciting a pleasurable feeling to course through me.

His tongue brushed against my clit multiple times, sucking it later on. My hips began moving on their own accord, grinding on his face as I worked my way with his cock. No matter how many years we’ve been together, his cock is something I’d probably never grow accustomed to. I admit that I struggled a bit as I tried fitting it all in my mouth. Muffled moans and gags spilled out of my mouth as drool went running past my lips.

I moved up and down along his shaft, going at a slow pace until I felt more accustomed, all the while I grinded ruthlessly against his face. His mouth was doing god's work on my needy cunt, he practically made out with the poor thing. He slurped up all my juices, not missing a single drop. “So sweet,” he murmured when he let go of me for a split second. He dove back in even rougher, slipping his wet muscle inside my hole.

He tongue fucked me so perfectly I could feel something rushing within me, threatening to release itself. So I began working my way on his cock, taking him even faster than before. I added my hands to the mix, fondling his balls. Bingo. His cock then began twitching in my mouth, signaling he was close. I continued a while more until his hot white cum painted my mouth. I swallowed it all before I too ended up cumming a while afterwards with a pinch to my clit.

I got off him afterwards, turning to see as Jaehyun’s face glistened with my release. It turned me all the more, I wanted more and I sure as hell was going to get it.

“Get on all fours, beautiful,” Jaehyun said in a low deep voice that made me quickly obey him.

My back arched when his hand touched me from my upper back all the way to my ass, in which he gave them a light slap. “Mmm, p-please inside! Inside me jae!” I moaned out rather loudly. I was growing impatient and so must've him since he rammed into me, no warning— no anything.

I jolted a bit forward due to the impact, but I didn’t mind. His cock fit so snug inside me, my walls gripping him. “So tight and so wet it slid right in,” he said chuckling. His hands gripped my hips so tight, I was sure to wake up with crescent dents on either side of my hips tomorrow.

His thrusts were just too overstimulating. Merciless and harsh thrusts, like a wild man. You’re cunt squeezing on his cock just right that it made it impossible for Jaehyun to even stop for a split second.

My head flings back as Jaehyun continues his thrusts, fucking into me even deeper. His cock kissed my cervix so perfectly I was starting to see stars again. No, no not yet.

“Gonna cum already?” he whispered into my ear before licking the shell. I groaned, “Ye-yes! Your cock just feels so— so good!”

He kissed the side of my jaw before saying, “Then let go baby, we got all night remember?” I moaned at his words, the reminder that he wouldn’t stop until I got pregnant edged me closer to my release.

He kissed me tenderly, his hands resting on my ass as he fondled it. Slap. And then another. Not gentle slaps like earlier, but harsher ones. Ones that made me clench around him even tighter. When he stops, a hand of his travels to the front of my body and down to my swollen clit.

Jaehyun’s fingers working miracles on my clit, abusing the poor thing. I chanted out his name, followed by moans until I let out a slight high-pitched scream when my orgasm came crashing out. I huffed, my eyes watered. I slumped onto the bed, but that didn’t stop Jaehyun— not one bit.

Jaehyun wraps his arm around my waist, bringing me back up and then using both his hands to support me. He continued pounding roughly into me, determined to meet his own release. After your orgasm hit you, he felt how slippery and wetter your cunt had become yet still so tight. He was gonna cum soon, he knew it.

He takes your arms in both his hands, thrusting into you this way. One thrust, then two, and on the third his cock twitched inside you, spilling his warm seeds inside. By the end of it, my insides felt so warm and full already.

Jaehyun removes his cock from me, and lets go of my arms causing me to flop onto the mattress. It felt empty inside me without him, but all I could focus on was how exhausted I’d become from the intense sex. However I knew we were far from done…

I lift my head to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun. He sat up, staring at my figure— his eyes traveling to my pussy where his cum began spilling out. “Come here,” he said. My body moved on its own, forgetting how exhausted I just was.

“Ride it baby,” he muttered in my ear, placing a kiss on my temple. I supported myself on his shoulders, taking his cock in my hand as I began to sink into it. I whimpered when I felt him inside me once.

Once I felt well adjusted, I began moving up and down on his cock. “Fuck, that’s it wife. Come on, ride it faster,” he groans. Gripping his shoulders, I moved faster like he told me to do so. The sensation of his cock stretching out my walls felt so pleasuring, hypnotizing; I loved it.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning closer to his chest. His hot breath fanned my ear, it felt tickling. My pace slowed a bit, Jaehyun noticing the change.

“Tired already? Don’t worry I got you,” Jaehyun says into my ear as he grabs my ass and starts plunging his cock onto me roughly again. The sensation caused loud noises to spill from my mouth and arch my back into his chest even more. “Lo-Look at me,” Jaehyun struggled to say.

My eyes met his, lusting and hungry eyes staring straight at me. He closed the distance between us, engulfing his lips onto mine. He drank up all my moans, his tongue running along my teeth and bottom lip. I pulled away first when he began massaging my clit. “Fu-Fuck to-too much ja-jae!”

“Ha, it’s alright wife, I know you can take it.” I laid my head on his shoulder, in which then my mouth bit on him. I heard Jaehyun let out a deep groan, “Shit, biting me now huh.”

I giggled, kissing the spot I had bitten. After a while I begun moving my hips on my own to meet his thrust. We both panted, nearing our end.

“You close baby?” Jaehyun whispered into my ear. I nodded my head, yes. That was all the confirmation Jaehyun needed before his lips met mine once more, causing us both to crumble down. His seeds spilled into me for a second time tonight.

His lips parted from mine this time, before he swiftly moved me to lay on my back. He hadn’t taken his cock out yet, instead he pried my legs wide open. He held my thighs as he slid out, leaving only the tip inside.

From this angle Jaehyun could see as his cum began spilling out. Oh hell no, he thought. So he plunged back into you again, on a mission to bury his seeds deep inside you. After all, he wanted to see you all swollen with his child again. Make you a mommy again, show you off to whoever he could.

I grip the sheets, then going to grab his shoulders. I watched as sweat trickled down his face, his face focused on where we connected. Jaehyun’s hand let go of my thigh, trailing it to my lower stomach as he pressed down that very hand on my stomach.

The feeling caused my back to arch, “J-Jae!”

“Can’t wait until you tell me you’re pregnant with my child. Stomach and tits so swollen. Mine, all mine. A proof of our undying love. God, how much I love you Y/N. You’re made for me, all of you.”

Jaehyun’s declaration melted my heart. I felt warm and fuzzy inside, making me forget for a moment what was happening until he grabbed my thigh again and began thrusting into me.

It wasn’t long until we both came again, and by now I was too stuffed, too full. I thought we for sure would have conceived by now, but in Jaehyun’s eyes it never hurt to try again…

So we went at it like rabbits until the sun rose. We both collapsed onto the bed, sweating and out of breath.

“You sure have some amazing fucking stamina, Jae,” I said chuckling. He smiled, welcoming his dimples. “Why thank you,” he says, coming close to wrap his arms around my body and kiss the top of my head.

“Rest for a bit, then i’ll help you hop in the bath,” he says softly. His demeanor now was a total change from earlier. Whatever, at least I could rest now.

My eyes fluttered and then closed. I rested in Jaehyun’s warm embrace and by the time I opened them again, I laid in the bathtub with my back pressed against his chest. “Good morning,” he says kissing my cheek. I smiled, “Morning, did I sleep for long?”

He pondered for a bit, “It’s about past noon now.” My eyes widened, I turned to face him. “Don’t you have a schedule to go to?!” He nodded his head, “Nope, I told my manager I would take the day off until we have to depart later tonight.”

“Ah,” I said leaning back into him. We enjoyed the warm bath together, with nothing too intimate besides kisses. And so once we finished a much needed bath, we enjoyed one another’s warm and loving company until it was time to depart.

Hand in hand, we walked along the airport though I admit I struggled to walk a bit. Curse you Jaehyun. Fans once again coursing around us.

And once we boarded the flight, I fell asleep some more and before I knew it we had landed and made it home. I embraced my children into a big hug, I admit I had missed these two little ones dearly but thankful me and Jaehyun were able to spend some time alone. Though, all we did was have sex…

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Yup, all that fucking me into oblivion worked.

Pregnant.

That was what the test read, not that I wasn’t expecting it but now it felt a bit more real. Our third child. Our third blessing. I caressed my belly, whispering a small “I love you” to the child growing inside me.

And so when Jaehyun came home, I made the big announcement. He cried, “tears of joy” he stated. We couldn’t be any happier, our family was growing. Our love for one another would too.

“I love you Y/N,” he said softly touching my belly. “Thank you for everything my wife.”

© jhdyuiee

2024.07.08

final a.n: ahh this one took longer than anticipated ughhh! i feel like half of it has to do with the fact i start stories and then start others ㅠㅠ ! pardon me tho plss bcs i am preparing lots for the future so pls stay tuned… this week, hehe. 🤍

[neocatharsis]

NCT 127 for Dazed Korea (July 2026)

© tyzip_ : HAE_Teddy

[neocatharsis]

JAEHYUN for Dazed Korea (July 2026)

© neogreen_127

[cryingforjae]

jaehyun big brain, he was out there exposing the Nikki’s in us after dropping the pictures, he got hella jokes today!!!!

[cryingforjae]

does he know I’m crazy…. 🫪