⭒ genre: smut | ⭒ wc: 1.5k | m.list navi
⭒ pairing: dom!johnny x subfem!reader
⭒ warnings: pwp, established relationship, light breath play, light power play, teasing, kissing, positions — countertop missionary/countertop doggy, pet names — baby
⭒ premise: johnny loves kissing you when you least expect it and now the kitchen isn’t only for cooking anymore.
⭒ aimee’s thoughts: no thoughts, i just hope you enjoy :)
Johnny loves kissing you.
Not because it usually leads to something more, that’s just a bonus, but because he loves seeing your reaction when he does.
It always starts off innocent. A few gentle kisses throughout the day, sometimes they’re accompanied by a playful grope or a slide of his hand across your back when he moves past you.
But there’s something about catching you by surprise with kisses that does something to him — it could be while you’re doing laundry, working out, sometimes it’s when you’re getting ready for the day in front of the bathroom mirror. One thing’s for sure though, he absolutely loves to do it when you’re in the middle of preparing dinner.
He’ll gently kiss your temple with his hands resting on your hips. He’ll whisper into your ear, asking if you need help with anything. When you say no, he simply nods.
When his arms slide around your waist, holding you from behind, he watches your movements as you prepare the ingredients while resting his chin on your shoulder before pressing another kiss on your cheek. Then against the corner of your mouth. And then another against your jaw.
“Johnny,” you giggle. “If I don’t get this done, we’re not eating tonight.”
He just hums, the vibrations tickling you.
You don’t push away, you don’t scold him any further either.
Partly because you like his attention, mostly because you love when he kisses you — it’s the way his arms pull you in closer to his body and how his lips graze your soft skin right before his index finger coaxes your head to tilt in his direction.
When his lips ghosts over yours, your heart never fails to skip a beat and you swear with the way your knees go weak, you’d fall if it weren’t for him holding you close.
Then his lips press against yours again, but this time it’s different — deeper, hungrier, needier — like it’s trying to steal your breath.
And you let it.
Whatever you were doing earlier doesn’t matter anymore. Not when Johnny’s tongue dips between your tender lips and rolls over yours, tasting you. His fingers press harder into your skin before he guides your body to turn to him.
Your back digs into the edge of the marble countertop, the cool feeling flushed against your heated skin.
His hand snakes up to the side of your neck and under your hair, tugging it gently but just enough to expose the column of your neck for him.
You giggle as his open mouth kisses turn sloppy, using his tongue to drag against your skin before sucking your flesh between his teeth — hard enough to prove his claim on you.
Your fingers tangle in his hair while your hand fists his shirt, pulling him closer, as if it were possible when his bulge is tenting his basketball shorts and already pressing right onto you — a soft and quiet whimper escaping you.
But then he just stops.
A little teasing chuckle is felt against your neck. He presses the palms of his hands flat onto the countertop, trapping you between the counter and his huge frame before he gives you a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I should stop.” He says, a smirk already pulling from the corner of his mouth, knowing how riled up you are. He slightly tilts his head to the side, his thumb lightly dragging up and down the column of your neck. “Right?”
You shake your head.
“Just—” You sharply swallow. “Just a little more.”
His thumb grazes your bottom lip, tugging on it when he drags his digit down to your chin and tilting your head up to look at him.
“A little more?” Johnny questions, his voice low and teasing, while his lips are slowly inching closer and closer to yours.
He catches you by the waist and, in one smooth motion, he hoists you up onto the countertop like it’s second nature to him.
“More of what? Tell me.” He grins, teasing you as he glides the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip. His hand cups the side of your neck and your mouth part while staring at his perfectly shaped lips. “Better yet? Show me, baby.”
Without a single thought in your mind, you hungrily crash your lips into his, teeth grazing while your tongues fight for dominance over the other.
He bites down on your lower lip, gentle enough for comfort but hard enough to pull a gasp from you.
Your hands frantically push the hem of his shirt up his body before he pulls it over his head and lets it fall onto the kitchen floor.
You waste no time fiddling with the waistband of his shorts, pushing it down his hips and letting his cock spring up, excited and more than ready for you.
Sliding your fist up and down his erection, you hear him let out a low, almost inaudible, growl and your stomach flips, sending shivers down your spine.
“Look at you,” he groans quietly, forehead pressed to yours as he watches your hand slide up and down his solid length. “Could even wait. So desperate for my cock already.”
All you do is whimper in response.
He’s right. You want it. In fact, you’re starving for it.
Between breaths, Johnny’s mouth latches into your shoulder — biting and sucking on it until your skin burns with a remembrance of this moment.
“Fuck me.” You desperately let out, tugging on his shaft and already tilting your hips in his direction. “Now.” You groan, a little growl edging at your throat.
Johnny gives you a dark and low chuckle. He lifts his head, eyes sharp and hyperfocused on you.
“Only good girls get to be fucked senseless.” He warns as his fingers curve lazily around your throat, his thumb resting just under your jawline. “Now try that again.” He squeezes just enough for you to obediently respond to his command.
“I’m sorry, you’re right.” You whisper, your voice oozing out submission with every syllable. “Please fuck me. I want—” You shake your head. “Need you to fuck me. Here. Please.”
“Yeah? Need it? Slide it in yourself.” He taunts.
And you’re quick, it’s almost pathetic.
Pulling your underwear to the side, you quickly align his tip with your entrance, moving your hips forward and he just watches — not his cock sliding into you, he watches you.
The way your mouth falls when his tip stretches you out. The way your brows knit together in bliss right before your head falls back, enjoying his cock slide against your soft, gummy walls. It’s the way you’re so fucking feral for him when all he did was kiss you.
He bucks his hips once, harsh and sharp, bottoming into you. You gasp, squeal, and then smile — a satisfied smile that comes with that ego boost that lets you know you’re his. His hands plant themselves on your waist, holding onto you as he fucks you — hips relentlessly pumping in and out of you, the wet and slick noises when he moves so lewd you swear you could feel him getting harder and harder.
You grab onto his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself as Johnny’s cock rams you. Your sounds of pleasure echoes through your home, paying no mind to anything else but the man fucking you dumb like it was his life’s mission to do so.
Your jaw stays open, Johnny’s cock relentlessly bullying that perfect spot inside of you over and over again. It’s sending jolts of electricity down your spine and to your toes, your calf and thigh muscles already working overtime with the way it’s clenching.
Johnny pauses his movements to devour your mouth like a starved, needy man. He swallows every gasp, every moan, and every beg you try to say. When he pulls away, you’re still chasing his lips like you don’t want him to stop.
You let out a string of incoherent words that you’re trying to form in a sentence but you can’t.
“What is it, baby?” He taunts, slowly dragging his heavy cock in and out of you just to make you squirm.
“F-fuck me from—” Your voice hitches. “—behind, p-please.”
Within seconds, he has you bent over the kitchen counter and continues rutting into you with harsh and deep thrusts.
Before you could moan his name, his hand hooks under your jaw, tips your head back, and meets you half way when he bends over, cock diving deeper into you and kissing you through the sharp bursts of gasps that leave you.
“I’m gonna fucking come,” you let out, words strained and desperate.
“Then do it.” He mutters against your mouth.
With a few rough strokes that jerk you forward, your body caves into pleasure. Your back arches perfectly and a rush of heat courses under your skin. Your mouth falls open with a silent gasp and your hand flies to Johnny’s wrist, gripping onto him for dear life as you dissolve into pleasure.
Your cries of pleasure push him over the edge and his hand moves from your throat to your shoulder, grounding him, all while spilling his entire load into you.
His head drops to your shoulder, arms tightening around you to pull you closer while trying his best to steady his breathing, and pressing kisses against your flushed skin.
“Let’s get cleaned up.” He giggles between his kisses. “Dinner’s on me tonight.”
genre: office!au, fluff, suggestive themes, some light angst, co-workers to lovers, romance, happy ending
warnings: language, alcohol, semi-public make out, pining
words: 12,5k
part 1
synopsis: Jaehyun's been your prime interest since the day he walked into your office three months ago. You finally get to meet him properly at a corporate party, as the evening unfolds, you discover that you share far more common ground than you'd thought. And as he walks you home afterwards, you find out you might be not the only one interested in that way.
You found yourself having a little jump to your step as you walked out the elevator. You’ve been in a very upbeat mood throughout the weekend, not trying to connect it to anything or anyone specific, but you were convinced you felt a little more recharged than usual and a little more ready to kick this week’s ass than usual.
As you skipped his building on your involuntary walk to the office you couldn’t take your eyes off the door for the longest time possible, what if by happy coincidence you’ll see him get out of the elevator through the glass door and indulge yourself in a very pleasures activity, slash walking to the office with Jaehyun.
As your neck began to hurt with no Jaehyun in sight you gave up, continuing your walk, you still were beyond exited for the day ahead. You were about to have a whole day next to the man that walked you right to your apartment, called you mesmerising and lost himself in the filthiest make out of your life next to and then behind your apartment door. You were out of your mind drunk, but still able to remember the way his lips trailed down the column of your neck, or the way his fingers pressed into your waist like little anchors to keep your body on the ground while your heart and mind were floating.
You were about to lose yourself in the dream world, your mind getting worked up at the thought of Jaehyun’s mouth latching onto yours. You were way past sanity as you made it through the revolving door and focused your mind on a bunch of people next to the elevators. Before you registered who it was, your feet were already taking you through security and to said elevators. You didn’t even need to look at the screen to see which elevator was going to the 28th floor. You just walked up to where he was standing right in time for the door to open and get scrambled into the elevator with a whole bunch of people, ending up on the opposite side of this small box.
A few people exited at the first stop, giving you air to breathe, one more stop and you were finally in direct eyesight and braced yourself for any sort of interaction.
Jaehyun’s eyes brushed past your figure as he was chatting with Jaemin and a couple other men you didn’t know the names of, probably not even registering who this is, trying to work out if the next stop is your floor. It is, you also follow his gaze to the panel.
“Hey.” You almost jerk back and look behind you to see who did the greeting so loudly in such a tiny space, only to realise it’s your voice that sounded so foreign as you tried to catch his attention. Jaemin turned around to see you and immediately gasped and grabbed your shoulder.
“Y/n, hi! Did you get home alright on Friday? Bet Saturday was hell?” He chuckled and gave a look to Jaehyun. You wondered why, the man didn’t have a single drop of alcohol that night. If he somehow already talked about what happened between you two.
“Guess yours indeed was?” You snickered, seeing Jaehyun crack a one-sided smile and fueling your day with even more good energy. “Mine was pretty mediocre.” You shrugged as the elevator dinged and invited everyone to exit. You fumbled with your bag, waiting for the mass to leave the elevator so you’d be behind the talkative one and get at least a second with Jaehyun, who hasn’t even greeted you properly yet. “Hey?” You repeated yourself quietly, almost whispering as you trailed behind Jaehyun.
“Oh, y/n, hi.” He gave you a nod of acknowledgment like he didn’t hear, or see, or smile at you in the elevator and continued to walk to the door.
“How was your weekend?” You didn’t want to let the conversation die, you needed to force more words out of Jaehyun so you wouldn’t feel like you made up what happened with you. To know you didn’t hallucinate him calling your smile captivating, saying he was drawn to you? You were starting to think you experienced delirium tremens after the party with the way Jaehyun very emotionlessly brushed his gaze over your figure.
“Good, I didn’t drink so I was all good.” You were almost offended how he didn’t bother to ask you in return, being one step away from stomping away in disappointment, when he caught the opened door and let you walk in before him in a gentleman-y way. It really shouldn’t have, but your heart fluttered at the simple gesture and you swallowed all the disappointment away, turning on the flirtiness.
“Won’t you ask me how my weekend was?” You pouted a little as the two of you kind of stuck behind the group and walked separately from them.
“You already said it was mediocre.”Jaehyun raised a brow at you and opened another door for you, allowing for you to walk into the closet room first.
“It was the public version.” You let him know bluntly, if he asked you, you’d let him know it wasn’t the best because you couldn’t see him. Or because he didn’t try to contact you nor acted like he even wanted to now.
“Yeah?” Jaehyun chuckled, taking his coat off. “What would be my version?”
“Why didn’t you text me?” You frowned as you took your own coat off.
“I don’t have your phone number.” Jaehyun didn’t even look at you as his fingers reached for the hanger and turned his back at you. He did have a point, but also he didn’t. You’ve had a work group chat in every messenger possible, he just needed to look at the participants. You swallowed that comment, in case he’d connect the dots and realise that’s how you found him.
“It’s listed on my profile on our corporate website.” Who seeks shall find, you almost added.
“I, as you may’ve noticed, left all my belongings at the office on Friday. I couldn’t get access to that even if I wanted to-.” Jaehyun reached once more to hang his coat. Your mouth opened at that, stopping mid action.
You couldn’t hold back a snort. “Oh, so you didn’t want to?” That’s an interesting piece of information.
“That’s not really what I mean.” Jaehyun sighed and finally looked you in the eyes.
“Enlighten me then.” You stretched out your mouth, holding back your emotions. “Please.” You added sheepishly, not wishing to make him feel like you were clingy after a kiss and asking him to get married and have kids. You were just curious. After what he said, implied and did.
“I weren’t sure you could remember-.” He half-whispered, other men still present in the same room with you.
“Hey, Jae, come to the smoker with us?” The guy in the blue jacket called out and you caught Jaehyun’s nod at that.
“You smoke?” You asked genuinely surprised, you’ve never noticed before.
“I don’t.” He let you know that bit of information, before turning away and walking with the guys.
Okay, this was weird, you needed to see him one on one ASAP.
-
“Hey?” You called out, training your eyes on the triangle on his blazers’ nape. You weren’t a stalker, you could swear on that. You were walking to the kitchen and Jaehyun was there, all alone and making himself a coffee. You didn’t mean to startle him to the extent of him dropping a teaspoon on the floor. You just needed to have a word with the man without any more ears.
And Jaehyun, probably to no surprise, but still surprisingly, was the star of the office. If he wasn’t making work calls or going to meetings, there were always people next to him, and when you tried to get in that line and talk, he’d always fleet like he could feel you and did it on purpose. Only now, he had no chance to fleet, you quite literally blocked the exit with your body. “I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry.” Didn’t know I was this scary, for that matter.
“I was just deep in thought.” Jaehyun turned around, looking you in the eye, what felt like for the first time in your life. Technically, it was the very first time in your life when you are sober. “What’s up?” He shifted his weight as you looked at him clearly wishing to talk and not knowing where to start. “I have a meeting in 15, sorry.” He looked at the watch and took a step your way. You also took a few steps in his direction and suddenly you were close enough to breathe in the intoxicating scent of this man.
“Yeah, sure. I can’t work out if you’re actually the most wanted man in this office or you’re just trying your best to avoid me?” You were clearly most wanted for me, but I’m not sure you deserve to hold that piece of information yet.
Jaehyun let out a chuckle at that. Plain chuckle and a brush of his lashes against his cheeks and he took two steps to walk back to the base cabinet and rest his hips against it. “Maybe it’s both.” He took a sip, crossing his arms over his chest as the cup took its place on the empty table. “You didn’t strike me as someone who would follow me around after a simple kiss.” Oh… Oh? Your head spun, in all the scenarios you came up with in your head during the weekend you never comprehended the possibility of Jaehyun turning out to be a complete jerk. Someone who would give you a mocking stare as he watched your face shift from flirty to lost to confused to completely shattered. They were really right saying hot men are always dickheads and somehow the very living proof of that was looking at you with the cocky brow.
You snorted, finally pulling yourself together. “Happens to the best of us. Especially when profoundly unscrupulous men like you go out of their way with lies to shove their tongue down someone’s throat.”
“Phew, at least now I’m certain you weren’t blacked out through the whole thing. That’s a relief.” Jaehyun ran the back of his hand against his forehead to mock wiping sweat off and gifted you with two symmetrical dimples.
“Ha-ha, clown.” You squinted your eyes at him, unamused.
“Profoundly unscrupulous men like me don’t go anywhere to shove anything down anyone’s throat, I said what I thought and I still stand by that.”
“Oh?” You felt genuinely confused and let him know it.
“But it was in a moment of a brain fog, and I regret that I voiced it out to you. I don’t regret kissing you, but I also do. I don’t do work romance.”
You felt genuinely curious at this. “Why?”
"Work romance doesn't work out really well. I don't want things to get messy.” He stated the plain fact, letting you know it was a fundamental believe within his system.
"You're talking from experience or...?"
“Observation." Jaehyun snorted, cutting off your unfounded assumption.
"Well, if you won't be a prick I'm sure we won't get messy." Jaehyun made a throaty chuckle at your blunt suggestion, watching you take a little step his way.
"What if someone in our company leaves and they'll have to rearrange our teams and you'll work under me?” Oh, so his concern was only work related. Jaehyun cared for things to not get uncomfortable work-wise. You had a smart answer to that,
"Then it'll be the only instance I'll let you be the top in our relationship?" you tilted your neck a little and gave him a few innocent blinks playfully. Jaehyun looked at you flustered, but smug, your mind brimming with arousal at the sight.
"Ah-" Jaehyun sighed and then swallowed, taking a step towards you and wrapping your wrist with his lanky fingers and making electric shocks run over your skin there. You felt like he'd give in to you this very moment, eyes fluttering at the proximity and anticipation. Jaehyun’s eyes landed on your wristwatch, "I have a meeting in 5, see you later." He smirked and turned around to grab his cup.
“No, wait. Just tell me why you kissed me if you have strong beliefs against office romance?” You caught up to him, too loud if anyone walked in direction of the kitchen, basically cornering the man against the counter top.
“I told you, it was the brain fog. You looked like you wanted me to.” His comeback sounded ridiculous, you hoped he knew that.
"What a good Samaritan, why didn’t you do it then every time I looked at you this whole time?” You said before you could think, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"You want me to? Every time you see me? Even when we're in meetings?” Jaehyun asked, suddenly calm to the very last bone. He raised a cocky brow at your blunt admittance. “Even now?” Whatever the fuck he thought, or, more likely now, knew, he disturbed within you was shoved deep down your heart. You would not indulge in stroking his ego and flirt back. You’ll let him go on with the knowledge of not getting any more of that for the meantime.
"Fuck off." You turned around, getting back to your workspace. You could hear the very weak attempts at summoning you back, but they weren’t enough and you would never again give it to him easy.
-
“Before you start screaming, I’m sorry, I got you these jellies as peace offering.” Your eyes focused on a hand next to your bag as you typed away on your phone with Nari, who caught a fever over the weekend and didn’t come to the office to not make everyone else sick. You raised your eyes to match the hand and the voice to the person and pushed the arm out of your way quietly. “Come on.” Jaehyun sighed and looked around to see if anyone watched this unfold. Nobody did, it was the end of the day and most of your co-workers happily ran back home a little early.
“You didn’t strike me as someone who would follow me around after a simple kiss.” Your tone was flat, quiet just in case anyone wished to eavesdrop, eyes not even focusing to register his presence.
“Ha-ha.” He mock-laughed, dropping the bag of sweets onto your table. “That’s exactly why I believe this stuff won’t ever work.”
“Excuse me?” You couldn’t hold back a scandalised gasp that definitely attracted attention.
“Can we not do it here? At least the kitchen?”
“Sorry, my work day is over, I’m not paid enough to stay overtime and deal with someone else’s bosses’ problems.”
“Okaaaay.” Jaehyun left the jellies, walking back to his table and collecting all his belongings.
You somehow thought it’s a great thing to make it a competition, jumping up from your chair and sprinting down the hall to get to your coat and to the elevators.
You dreaded the elevator ride as Jaehyun caught up to you and waited for it to arrive one on one with you in pure silence. How did you even end up alone with him in an elevator, the mixture of your feelings completely reversed to what you felt last time. By happy coincidence he was going down to the parking lot, probably picking up his car from Friday. Just like you did.
You ignored Jaehyun completely, taking off first from the elevator in the direction of your car. You could hear his steps trail right behind you, the sound in the quiet parking space bouncing off the surrounding surfaces, making it echo through the lot. It almost felt like he was following you on purpose, the nauseating oily scent of motor oil and gasoline doubled your anxiety, making lumps of air stick in your throat. The last straw really was that stupid car in front of yours, blocking your way out once again.
The parking lot in your office building was ridiculous. To save space, or for whatever reason, there was two rows for parking and one car would automatically get blocked by the front one, and most times with two others on its sides and backed up by the wall. By the luck of Gods your designated parking spot was exactly this locked up spot you hated. You even left your car back at the office on multiple occasions because you didn’t want to wait for whoever it is to get their car out of your way.
“For fuck’s sake!” You exclaimed and stomped your foot, forgetting all about Jaehyun behind you as you stopped not far from your car. Of course, the stupid black Mercedes was blocking your way out once again.
“What’s up?” Jaehyun walked up to you, stopping next to your shoulder, staring at the cars.
“Some lovely person that loves to stay at work over-time blocked my car, again.” You mumbled a few curses under your breath, hoping Jaehyun couldn’t hear it.
“Are you not part of the group chat about the parking space? I saw people text there and ask to let them out. I’m sure all these are our agency’s parking spots, you’d easily get your car out.” Yes, the chat did exist. No, you never messaged there because stomping your feet and walking away sounded like an easier option than waiting for whoever to come downstairs and move their car away.
“It’s none of your business.” Sneer tugged at the corners of your mouth, brows knitted together. You hoped he could read between the lines. Piss off. Jaehyun looked at you with an amused smirk, seriously making you mad. “Go to your car and go home. Bye.” You sighed through gritted teeth.
Jaehyun shrugged, the smirk getting even wider than before and got the car keys out of his pocket. As he pressed the button on the key and the headlights of that exact black Mercedes flashed, your head spun.
“See you tomorrow, I guess.” Jaehyun gave you a little wave, opening the door and starting the engine. You watched him drive off, still not getting to your car, just stared mesmerized as he drove off. You had all those chances to talk to him and you never used one. What a fucking joke.
-
“Morning!” Jaehyun announced his arrival in the open space, running his eyes around the corner your teams usually sat in. You knew exactly where he’d go the next moment and trained your eyes on the opened letter specifically hard, fighting with your own self to not flinch as you felt an arm press into the backrest. “I’m pretty sure this was my table.”
“Oh?” You put on the greatest act of your life, turning to see the man and blinking dumbfounded. “Hi.”
“Hi, this is my table.” Nope, none of the desks were assigned to employees. They were shared, he just happened to be taking the same spot every time. It was about the time someone changed that.
“That’s said where exactly?” He knew well this was written down nowhere.
“Okay, I see.” Jaehyun nodded, chuckling to himself.
“Given by the way your car took my parking spot, I guessed you also decided to change your seat at the office.” You raised a brow at the man, Jaehyun nodding and fixing the glasses over his nose. You came to the office and saw the black Mercedes parked into your spot like it was always meant to go there. You smiled and pinched your arm at that. Despite what he said it still felt like Jaehyun was flirting with you through his car. Or were you hallucinating?
“I thought I’d get a thank you for that.” You’d get a kiss for that if you asked for it.
“You could get even more if you wanted.” Both your brows raised with the words.
“Like, my table back?” Jaehyun made sure this was PG and loud. You rolled your eyes at him for that.
“If that’s your only wish?” Jaehyun’s eyes ran over the rows with tables.
“Never mind, Taeyeon has an empty sit next to her, guess that’s where you were supposed to be.” No, wait, I have an empty sit next to me, Nari is sick, so her spot next to you is empty.
“This one’s empty.”
“No, thanks.” Jaehyun shrugged and took off, suddenly turning on his heel and walking back to you. You watched him fold to get on the same level with the table and reach for the notebook that was laying there carefully, probably full of Jaehyun’s handwriting. As he leaned in he somehow ended up explicitly close with his mouth to your ear, talking to you in the lowest tone possible, no emotion whatsoever. “No thank you and also took my table? Guess this’ll be your punishment for today?” Jaehyun looked at you and finally walked off, hiding two rows of tables from you, next to Taeyeon.
Somehow with the so called punishment he made your day more exciting.
You made sure to check with Taeyeon every minor issue and question, you came up to her for a chat, to ask if she had a meeting when you could clearly see her calendar with your two eyes on your screen. Check with her every twenty minutes, sliding your body between her and Jaehyun’s chair, squatting to be on the same level with your boss as she was sat down. You walked up to Taeyeon once again, only to realise Jaehyun’s chair was vacant, by lack of the laptop you guessed he was in a meeting, sitting down on his empty chair confidently, sinking in deeper so the jacket he left on the backrest would brush against your shoulders and let you sink into the scent of him. “Have you read the letter on sponsorship? They want to cut down the budget on already confirmed offer. I know exactly what’ll Jen from buying say.” You sighed, crossing your legs, spinning a little on the chair as Taeyeon typed away.
“Agh, I can’t deal with them anymore.” Taeyeon sighed and looked at you, only now realising that you’re in the chair this time, not squatting on the floor. Her eyes focused back on the screen. “I don’t care, to be fair. It’s lunch time.” She clapped her hands happily and fished her phone out. “Wait, let me message my husband, if he can come now.”
“I’ll ask Renjun and Jaemin then.” You agreed, looking for the men. “Psst,” you called out for Renjun three tables away from here. “Lunch?”
“Ah!” The exclamation was so loud half the office looked at the man. “I thought you’ll never ask. Jaemin it’s lunch time.” Renjun patted his bosses’ chair and the very next second both their laptops were closed and they were ready to go. “Who’s also coming?”
“The Byun family.” You teased your boss. “Should we invite Nari’s boss also?” You patted the chair, trying to be very subtle about it.
“Jaehyun’s in the meeting for another hours or so.” Jaemin waved you off and invited everyone to stand up and go with his motions.
“Really?” You asked a tad bit disappointed. “Shouldn’t we be good people and ask him if he wants us to bring anything back?” You tried to keep the nonchalance within your tone, this was something you did at times for the people in your close circle that couldn’t do lunch with everyone. Jaehyun seemed to be close circle to everyone, it was okay to ask such a thing. You didn’t know why you had to pep talk yourself that it was okay in the first place.
“He left his phone in the jacket. It’s been vibrating for the past hour.” Taeyeon let you know and your eyes looked down like you could see the pockets of the suit jacket behind your back. That’s not a problem, I’ll get to the meeting room on the way out and ask him quickly, before we get to elevators. He let me block his car with mine, I’ll make sure he has lunch, good deed for good deed.
You walked up the corridor to get to the elevators and down 20 something floors, not forgetting to peek into the meeting room you guessed Jaehyun was in.
The man had to sit with his back to the door, which meant you’d get directly in the shot of his camera and you wanted to do the good deed unnoticed to whoever he talked to.
It’s okay, I’ll bring him coffee.
-
You ran up through the hall, Taeyeon staying behind to chat with her husband, the rest of the group heading straight to the smoke room, and you were determined to quickly get to the open space before everyone. As you reached the table you put the cup before Jaehyun’s nose.
“What’s that?” He moved back confused.
“Coffee.” You stretched your arm out more and placed it on the table. “For you, because you couldn’t go to lunch and we couldn’t ask you what would you want because you left your phone here.”
“Ah-.” Jaehyun smiled, sincere smile making both his dimples visible, soft rosy tender lips pulling you in with magnetic force. “Thank you, whoever the ‘we’ are.”
“It’s everyone, guys went to the smoke room and Taeyeon is with her husband, so I’m the delivery person.” You waved him off, you didn’t realise prior it’ll look a little-.
“Wait, I thought you said you wanted coffee-.” Taeyeon materialised behind your back as you watched Jaehyun taking a sip, he pulled back and looked behind you confused, trying to work out whether or not this was referred to him. Unfortunately, it was. You felt a sudden urge to crimson at the ungodly way Taeyeon busted you within the second.
“Oh, I.” You malfunctioned flabbergasted. “I need to write an email, sorry, thank you.” You took off, thankful your table was far enough to not hear them talk afterwards.
I guess the ‘we’ I have to thank is your multiple personalities.
thank you :)
p.s. now you don’t have a good reason not to text me?
Your eyes ran down to the signature under the letter.
Jeong Jaehyun
Mob.: 010-0214-1997
Group Account Director
Orange Seoul Agency
Why the hell did your heart flatter at this stupid man once again?!
-
"Remember how I got you coffee yesterday?” You squatted elegantly next to Jaehyun's chair, back at his regular work table but with the parking spot of yours. You tried to come early, to not let him take the spot once again, but his car was already there, like he never left.
Nari was still working from home, the flu turning out to be worse than she expected, the table next to his was still vacant, giving you room to talk a little louder than expected. The man turned a little to face you, looking down with a little smile adorning his very handsome face. You almost lost balance and had to grab onto his knee for the split second and let go of it the next as you regained balance and lost sanity. That same knee pressed onto your thighs less than a week ago.
“Sure I do.” He chuckled amused, not forgetting to check the surroundings and make sure you were hidden from everyone behind the table dividers and no one stood within the hearing ability. No one did. “Your friend is still absent, you could sit on the chair and not squat like that in front of me. Not very gentlemen-y of me.” Jaehyun added in a comment that you ignored completely.
“Well, I’ve never said the coffee was for free.” Your brow made a pointed motion up your forehead, your arms occupying the armrest as Jaehyun moved his body back a little.
“Okay...? Do you want me to transfer you money?" he chuckled in clear disbelief. You weren't asking for money, obviously. You boldly folded your arms over his thigh and smiled cutely, all it took was acting like your arms slipped off the armrest anyway. Your fingers tapped your cheek with no words followed. Jaehyun got the clue, running his tongue over his teeth the very next second. Kiss me and we’re even. I’m not even saying on the mouth. Not even asking to do it the way you willingly did it against my apartment’s door. Just a peck on my cheek. Will you? You didn’t expect the pause and the thought process behind his pretty brown irises that followed. He shot you a smile as he was done thinking and forced your arms off his lap. You wondered what words exactly he’d use to turn you down. You won’t even be mad, his face was adorable as he looked at you and you were ready to take this one with pride. Lost battle is not lost war, at the end of the day.
“I'll pay for it later, okay?” the way Jaehyun allowed the flirting, almost kinda flirted with you back? You lost the balance again and didn’t allow yourself to grab onto him, standing up and feeling your head spin. That’s not the reply you expected to get out of him. Wow. It felt like you were swaying him in the right direction, in your direction.
“Promise?” You asked a little too sincerely for Jaehyun to soften his gaze and whisper.
“Swear.” Goose bumps ran over the back of your neck at that, feeling like you’d do something stupid if you don’t distance from him.
“Sure thing. I do have to warn you though.” You turned to him as you walked back, with a playful lift of the shoulder.
“Mmh?"Jaehyun hummed, eyes a little too woozy for someone that didn’t want to do anything with work romance.
"Don't take too long, your debt might increase and I'll have to ask for more than just that.” You let him know, heading for your spot.
-
That same day you watched Jaehyun walk in your CEO’s office, for his regular status with the boss, you assumed.
You ran down the hall to get yourself a glass of water, and also peek through the glass door, bumping into Taeyeon on your way back.
“Spying?” She chuckled, eyes trailing behind the glass door.
“No.” You firmly denied. “Just wondered when Minyoung came, didn’t see her at the office.”
“Sure.” Taeyeon looked at you with a face expression you couldn’t distinguish. Like she… “Expect some news in a few weeks.” Like she kept a secret from you, you got it.
“What news?” You ran behind your boss, as she headed for the kitchen.
“Can’t tell yet.”
“You know I can’t walk around knowing something is about to happen and not actually knowing what will happen.” You pleaded, you were very bad with things like that.
“I’m sorry, I really can’t yet.”
“Am I getting promoted?” You blurted the first thing that came to mind. Taeyeon gave you the I can’t tell you look and you got confused if you hit it right. “Am I?” You asked flustered.
“Ah, don’t talk to me about this.” She sighed dramatically, asking you to leave. “I won’t tell until it’s time.”
“But you already did? And now I’m going to die of curiosity.”
“Ah, go to your computer before I take that promotion off the list, now.” She raised a brow in an attempt to threaten you, but really, both of you knew it didn’t work. You quickly left her though, because getting on her actual nerves wasn’t the plan.
You sat back down at your table and haven’t even looked at the screen once, moving the mouse mindlessly to not let the screen go black on you. What really helped your procrastination is Taeyeon’s absence, maybe she had a meeting or maybe she was chatting with someone else, given her laptop was laying square on the table. Your eyes focused on the door not for any specific reason, just because you were deep in thought going through options, what would actually be the news, if you were actually getting promoted.
If you were, who would be on your team? What would be your account? Taeyeon would be just a colleague and not your pillar in work life. You felt yourself getting stressed at the thought, suddenly thinking how you’d rather not be promoted and the news be another client added to your account or something like that.
You flinched as the door opened, revealing Jaehyun to your eyes. Somehow he immediately found your stare and brushed by it as he headed to his seat. If you were about to contemplate his look, he seemed to be displeased, like he was given the news also and they never met his expectations. Your palms sweated at that, he didn’t seem mad or angry or anything else of that sort, just a barely there discomfort that somehow doubled as he looked at you once more before dropping himself onto the seat and hiding behind the monitor. You couldn’t possibly shake the feeling off that you were indeed part of those news.
“Hey, lunch time?” Jaemin stood up and summoned your attention and also everyone’s that’s been within your little area. You and Renjun shared a glance and quickly stood up, happy to join lunch time, always.
Jaehyun raised his eyes excited at first, looking at you the very next moment and losing that excitement somewhere along the way. “Ugh, I have an email to write, sorry.” The excuse was flabby, so was the way he put on a fake smile and dipped behind the screen. What was up with him? He promised the kiss and now looked like he regretted that flirting down to his last bone. You weren’t about to make him that uncomfortable if he changed his mind, Jesus. You had his phone number to let him know that.
“Do you need 10 minutes? We’ll wait.” God bless Renjun and his kind heart, really.
Blip, Jaehyun’s phone made a sound.
To: Jeong Jaehyun
hi, it’s me. If you changed your mind about our conversation - it’s fine, you don’t have to avoid me.
Tell me I’m wrong, say that I’m wrong. Say it, say it.
“No, no. Just go, I’ll catch up to you.” He said as if he didn’t read the message, though he clearly did, hence the notification.
Another blip on his table.
To: Jeong Jaehyun
btw me is y/n, I can bring you back food? If you want to? You can tell me.
You looked directly at the man that clearly stared into his phone.
“Okay.” The men shrugged and fussed over you to go. “The Byun family messaged me, they’re already downstairs and are waiting for us.” Oh? Okay. Renjun dragged you behind him by the hand, not giving you a chance to spare a second glance.
Your phone blipped, as you stepped into the elevator.
From: Jeong Jaehyun
It’s okay, I’ll get me food myself.
-
The birds chirped in the concrete jungle and you had to spin your head around to work out where the sound was coming from. The speakers on the wall of the mall, sure. Not like there could be any real birds, but where did the speaker come from?
Anyway, who cares.
It’s a Monday, you’ve spent the end of the week working from home, like you always did and the fact you weren’t getting glimpses of Jaehyun throughout this period of time agonised you. You were also agonising over the news and the very vague timing of view weeks, and tried your best to keep your composure and keep your mind off work during the weekend. It was hard, especially hard when you’d see that little it’s okay, I’ll get me food myself preview burning your eyes out. You just hoped the ‘next few weeks’ didn’t mean 5 months from now on and you’d have to agonise for another eternity.
Nari squeezed you in her arms, as you met up with her by the elevators. “Hihihi, what’s the gossip?”
“What gossip?” You asked flustered, did she mean you and Jaehyun gossip? The work gossip? What gossip?
“My boss said there’ll be news.”
“Agh-, this gossip. I have no clue.” Thanks for reminding me, again.
“No one told you? Taeyeon didn’t tell you?”
“She said that there’ll be news, as for detail, she vaguely told me to piss off.”
“Oh really?” Nari frowned and pressed the elevator button, gripping onto your arm as a sea of people entered the elevator with you.
“Yeah. I hope they won’t leave us hanging for too long.”
“Damn, I can’t stand secrets.” Nari sighed and you couldn’t agree more with that. You did too, so badly.
“Me too.” You sighed mindlessly, reaching for the closet room door. The door swung open, hitting your fingers, and also hitting your head with something warm and soft, like a… human? You focused your gaze on that human as you opened your eyes coping with the pain in your fingers and head. “Ouch.” You exclaimed, finally, and worked out the silhouette.
“Jaehyun, good morning.” Nari bowed at her boss, moving her attention at you. “Are you okay?” She fussed, reaching out to you, watching Jaehyun freeze in the doorway, getting hit by the door in his shoulder with what looked like a painful hit.
“Ah, f-, I mean I’m sorry, are you okay?” He reached a hand to your hurt one, jerking it back before he could touch you and looked you in the eyes. The first jab of pain made you see stars, and even though the moment was long gone, you guessed getting a little care for that wouldn’t be too unfair.
“I think I’m not.” You contemplated what to say to him, to not make Nari confused with your sudden familiarity.
“Really?” They asked you in unison.
“Yes, I need a minute. I’m sorry.” You held onto your head dramatically, walking into the room to sit down on a surface. Both Nari and Jaehyun followed you inside.
Nari sat down next to you, Jaehyun squatted in front of you, looking attentively.
“What is it?” He asked softly, maybe just because he was sorry, but you hoped he was suddenly just soft for you.
You could see Nari taking her phone out with peripheral vision, “Jaehyun, Minhyuk is asking if we could start 15 minutes early?” she looked at her phone and then at Jaehyun.
“Sure, go tell him it’s okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” Nari nodded, put her coat on the hanger and headed to the door.
“Are you okay?” she asked you, as she was about to grab the handle. You nodded and watched her leave the room.
“Seems like now you owe me two.” You snorted, not in a way like you expected him to actually kiss you, but more like a little jab, still being sore over his avoidance last week.
“Two of what?” Jaehyun smirked, surprisingly amused by the suggestion.
“Depends on you. Can you help me get the coat off? You did actually hurt my wrist.” You stood up, watched Jaehyun stand up too and help you get the coat off, brushing his fingers down your arms. You shivered, wishing you could freely lean back and feel his torso press into you.
“As I said, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone lingering behind the door.” He even grabbed the hanger to put your coat away. “I was running late for the meeting that I’m even more late to now.” His eyes ran around like he wanted to look at his phone and you found a perfect way to tease him.
“Wanna look at my watch?” Your arm extended towards Jaehyun. “But really, you seem to be clumsier than expected.”
“You had expectations?” The man stood in front of you, looking at you with his sweet brown-eyed stare that ran electricity through your body and made you wish only one thing - that he’d lean in an do what he was good at.
“Should I remind you what happened between your very sober and my very drunk tongues? A girl can’t help but fantasies what would the man that made her feel like that turn out in real life.”
“Make you feel like what?” Jaehyun took the tiniest step towards you, voice barely above a whisper.
“Aren’t you late for the meeting?” You tried to jump out of that train of sudden honesty.
“I can be a little late if it’s because of a girl I’m drawn to, right?” Jaehyun’s palm smoothly sneaked to hold your hurt one and you weren’t sure you were able to keep your sanity at bay.
“Can we continue from where we paused before?” you went straight to the point, you wanted him on an inhuman level, it never changed. Probably got even worse since you had a little taste of what he’s like.
“I don’t think either of us actually, truly want this.” Jaehyun still held your palm in his, eyes captivating you in this moment. Your ears burned with how badly you wanted to feel his skin on your skin properly, feel his lips trail down your throat, arms running down your waist, holding your ass and many more touching actions that were making you tremble at the idea right now. You hoped he really could see those images in your eyes as he stared. What exactly did he mean with neither of you truly wanting this? You were all riled up by now.
“You actually can’t even imagine how much I truly want this.” You, would be better said. ”Why don't you want me? You didn't seem like it when you kissed me?" his mouth opened immediately, you could very clearly read the protest in his eyes and you were one step away from slapping him, if he'd dare to blame it on something like a brain fog or whatever. Jaehyun seemed to read your face expression and closed his mouth to rearrange his thoughts.
“I feel like we really shouldn’t be doing this right now.”
“Do you like me begging for you? I can do it too, I’ll overstep my pride if that means I can have this my way?” you tightened your fingers over his, that were still holding you despite the words.
“No, it’s not about begging-“ Jaehyun sighed, allowing your feet to make you two way too inappropriately close, if holding hands wasn’t inappropriate enough.
“When you were leaving you said I can’t have you yet, I remember this clearly. Shouldn’t we talk about this?” you needed to know if that yet you were holding on to like an anchor was just a slip of his tongue. Not something he meant as if in I can’t have you yet, but will have you in upcoming time.
“Stop making this a torture for me, please.” Jaehyun closed his eyes hopeless, you couldn’t understand the point of those boundaries he set if he wanted you too and struggled to deny your suggestions. You can clearly tell he does, Jesus. If it’s hard for him to say it, fine. I’ll do it myself.
“If you’re doubting what you’re seeing. I want you.” Jaehyun’s eyes opened wide at that, his head also leaned in a little further to you, contemplating. “Haven’t stopped thinking of what could’ve happened if you listened to me and didn’t stop. If you’d let me take you to my bedroom, like I wanted you to.” Jaehyun leaned in more, leaving a very small gap between your faces. “Like I still want you to.” You could feel the taste of his lips on yours, brushing them against yours, mouth pressing firmly into yours as he pressed you against his body. But in reality you two heard the sound of the pass unlocking the door and jumped away from each other, losing the only contact you had through your palms. You were convinced at this point he would’ve smashed his mouth against yours, he just needed another second to come to an agreement in his head.
“Jaehyun, I’m sorry, Minhyuk is getting really mad.” Nari looked at you two confused.
“Shit, coming.” He grabbed his belongings and ran out of the locker room before Nari, who trailed right behind him.
-
After the almost kiss Jaehyun seemed to be even more distant. You were sure you were making things up, but he’d not indulge in your attempts to flirt with him any more, which wrenched your heart to pieces. Still, you weren’t a quitter, you tried your best to continue with little signs of attention. Nothing of the sort that would make him actually uncomfortable.
You’ve been knocking on the closed door for a couple of weeks now, getting no response in return and dropping the kiss joke, it was pretty old and stupid by now, when he didn’t even give you signs of what he used to give. You even forgot about the announced news, your biggest focus at work would shift between shit load of accounts and him.
You sipped on a coffee, mindlessly, everyone left for lunch, but Taeyeon had an external meeting and couldn’t possibly close off one of the clients’ urgent request. You had to give up food in the name of work, which sucked. You trained your eyes on the only door in the open space - the CEO’s office that you were pretty sure was empty today, until, you saw a bunch of perfectly styled black hair approach the door from the inside and found yourself totally invested. The man smiled as he exited the office, turning away and pooling his face expression with dread. You couldn’t help but continuously wonder the hell was happening behind that door for the past few weeks for him to come out of the meetings so displeased? You itched to ask, but also wished to not overstep your boundaries.
Jaehyun crossed eyes with you and with no reaction whatsoever walked to his table.
Your eyes also focused back on your screen, taking last brain cells of yours into that letter you were writing.
“Where’s everyone?” You quite literally jumped in your seat, too invested in the letter and not noticing Jaehyun approach you.
“At lunch.”
“Without you?” he looked surprised, like you were a symbol of lunch at the office.
“I had an urgent request.” Your fingers motioned over the screen of your laptop.
“Want to eat… with me?” he paused and looked at you and then looked at your screen and back at you, like he was nervous. That made you nervous also.
“Won’t you mind that?” knowing the history of your interactions, you would’ve minded that.
“I’m not scared of you, if that’s what you mean.” A little smirk ran over his mouth for a second.
“Oh, okay. I’ll finish the letter and tell y-.”
“I’ll wait here.” Jaehyun plopped his body on the vacant chair and stared at you, making you confused, but also willing to finish this off quickly and go onto your lunch date or whatever this was.
You finished off the letter, closing the laptop and walking to the elevators with the man in pure silence. In the same manner you two walked down to the underground café area and only there had a little small talk about what food either of you would be getting. That was it, you sat down at the table you were lucky to find and started dining.
"So you really like me, huh?” Jaehyun asked with a smirk a couple of spoons in. You almost snorted the broth out of your nose at the question. He clearly knew the answer to that. Yes, I do.
"I wonder what made you think so?" You snickered, guessing where the conversation is going to be led. Mutual confession or stroking of his ego.
"You go to certain lengths to show it." Jaehyun’s eyes focused on yours.
"So you do see that? I was almost convinced you can't read between the lines.” Your eyes flattered, you were hoping he’d get on the train of flirtiness and make your week the best one yet.
“I’m sure at this point it’s not even between the lines.” He pointed his words out with a brow.
“Well, I didn’t shove my tongue down your throat first-.” You had to remind that it was him. You would’ve kept pining and crushing in your own little silent world, not kissing him, not making the move. Staring at him at all given chances is not a real issue. Jaehyun cut you off.
"As much as I enjoy your attention, I've said multiple times that this won't lead us anywhere. Respectfully, even if the game is fun, a no is still a no.” the way his eyes dropped on his plate as soon as he was done speaking, to not see your reaction pissed you off. If he was going to be a coward about it and your reaction, you will blow up for real.
“Excuse me?” Now you did choke on the broth, getting it absolutely everywhere. Jaehyun, despite telling you off and rejecting you still was a gentlemen, giving you the tissues to clean up yourself. You took the paper from him wiping your mouth and everything around you.
"I would say I'm sorry, but I don't want to sound like there's any chance for this to actually happen.” He went on, as if you weren’t crushed enough by now.
“Is that why you asked for lunch?” you needed a quiet moment to comprehend the words that you wanted to leave your mouth next, thus the question took a few blinks to come out.
“Mainly, yes. We didn’t have a chance to talk about things that I allowed to happen for a while.” Jaehyun put a mouthful of food in his mouth like it was the most casual conversation he ever had.
“I’m sorry, but what the hell, respectfully.” Jaehyun looked at you, no response coming from his mouth, and you were waiting too - why the hell did he not continue his talking. “Is that why you said we won’t work out? Because you already knew you’ll act like a jerk?” You snorted and looked him dead in the eyes. “So you made up your mind at that event to say shit to get to my drunk head, then when I quite literally told you to do it, you walked away. Make it make sense? Because I genuinely don’t understand how these two things happened within one brain? You should’ve just done the thing, no?” Jaehyun blinked with no vivid reaction, irritating you further. “I’m sorry I lied, I don’t really lie much.” You mocked the tone of his voice. “Seems like another bullshit that came out of your mouth.”
“You can bad mouth me, I did lead you on, I accept it.” He, again, blinked what seemed like in slow motion.
“I don’t need your acceptance. I don’t actually need anything from you. I’m sorry, I’m late for a meeting.” You jumped off the chair, grabbing the tray and running off to dispose the food that you won’t be able to digest now anyway.
You hated how the salty tears burned your cheeks as the elevator door closed, leaving you all alone with yourself. You tried to calm yourself down and stop them, but the more attempts you had, the worse it gotten. It was hard to comprehend why did his words crush you out like that.
What a ridiculous situation? What a jerk that Jeong Jaehyun guy is?
And you thought that he could never be a dick? Thought that he was the one that could fit with your illusion of a man you liked?
Icky.
That’s how you felt thinking of all those times you wishfully put your heart out there to make sure your feelings were known to the man. For him to understand that whatever happened that night wasn’t a mistake, it was something you’ve been hoping for to happen for months. For him to understand that whatever happened only brought you confidence to let him know that you’ve been crushing on him for weeks, but kept it to yourself not having enough courage to open up to him.
It was also clear that the non-reciprocated feelings should be put to a stop, but not after weeks of him acting like he’s been enjoying it. He was at fault for leading you on.
And kissing you in the first place.
_
You hated how you still had to have your lunches at the same table with the man, because no one clearly had any problems with him. He still was the mister perfect everyone wanted to hang out with and adored. You hoped he felt uncomfortable every time you ended up next to each other or in front of each other at the table.
Or, if he was the mister perfect everyone thought he was, he should’ve excused himself out of the lunches, make it out of the offer instead of happily agreeing to have food with the group and irritating you with his presence and sickening dimpled smile. Always with that perfect smile, and you thought you’d never get sick of that face expression.
“What a prick.” You sighed under your breath, shoving a spoon full of food into your mouth.
“I heard that.” Nari whispered into your ear, scaring the shit out of you.
“Heard what?” you looked at her blankly, not registering how your eyes stared Jaehyun down, contemplating the ability of burning him alive and how your mouth very distinguintly cursed out the man.
“The words.” Nari lowered the tone of her voice as the group suddenly became silent, focusing on the food. “What did he do?” Nari shoot her eyes at her boss subtly and back at you.
“Will tell you later.” Nari gave you a nod and locked in to finish her food. You, thankfully, had a little time to work out whether you wanted to share the bigger issue or the fact that you were a little late to the office and the man parked on his spot, blocking your only way to your parking and forcing you to drive back home to get back on foot and be even more late. You kind of knew what would be the better option to tell and kind of dreaded the face expression when you’ll tell you didn’t just call him and ask to move the car. You knew you’d be met with the what the hell stare.
Good thing that despite lunching together, the rest of your coexisting lives went back to square one. Just like before that God forsaken night, like you never knew each other and never had an interaction. Good for the both of you, really.
_
“Y/n, honey?” Taeyeon didn’t sound too out of character soft, but a little lick of motherly care still somehow made the hair on the back of your head stand up. “Book a meeting room for us for an hour. Okay?” you had a good hunch sense and it never set you up. You were right to feel that, it seemed like the news were finally coming your way? Damn.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll book it by your calendar, is that okay?”
“Totally, thank you.” You immediately checked her Outlook calendar, hoping for an empty slot within upcoming hours. There was one, 3pm was immediately booked by you and you were only set to spend another three hours in agony, cutting your time by coffee and chat with Nari, and also lunch and finally you were tapping your finger on the table, watching the clock slowly turn from 14:56 to 14:57.
“I’m available, we can start early if it’s fine with you?” thank God, even 3 minutes will save a whole bunch my nerves.
“Yeah, sure. The room is free.”
Taeyeon nodded, happily, inviting you to walk over with her. You trailer behind her, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of Nari doing thumbs up for you.
You wished that help.
As you walked into the meeting room, Taeyeon lowered herself onto the chair and you sat across her, feeling like it’d be more appropriate to distance.
“So, as you know, I’ve teased the news before.” She cut straight to the chaise and low key made it worse for your anxiety.
“You did. Genuinely, I’m scared.” You giggled, swallowing a very hysterical chuckle down your throat.
“It’s honestly not much of a thing for you, at least, I hope it’s not much inconvenience.” Taeyeon smiled at you and made you completely confused.
“Inconvenience?” you didn’t even realise you said this out loud.
“Yes, I don’t know if you’ve noticed already, but I’m pregnant.” You full on gasped, closed your mouth with your palm and felt the tears prickle your eyes immediately after.
“Congratulations, I’m so happy for you.” You reached out to her and Taeyeon stood up, full on inviting you for a hug. “I’m genuinely, so happy for you and Baekhyun.” You hugged her, with much care for the woman. She was the greatest person you’ve worked with, you had a 1000% working compatibility, you were happy when she got married, you were bursting with joy now, knowing they’re family is about to become a family of 3.
“Thank you, darling.” Taeyeon patted your shoulder and let go of you, sitting back down.
“How far along are you?” you asked, not holding back from checking out her stomach. She did wear baggier clothes lately, but she was so tiny, and by your knowledge it could happen that her pregnancy wouldn’t show till very late stages, which also could mean she was about to leave you on your own involuntary a very short period of time. You panicked once more for the answer.
“I’m 19 weeks. It’s second trimester.” Pfew, that’s good. It means she’ll be here for a while, right? It’s like she could read relief on your face and had to stop you immediately, raising a finger. “But my medical condition unfortunately makes me leave for maternity leave within the month.” It looked like she was in pain thinking of this and talking about it, so you tried to not show how you really felt about the news.
“No.” you weren’t sure this hide much your true feelings. You weren’t even sure what you were more upset about, her health issues, or the fact the leave is so sudden and close?
“Unfortunately, yes.” Taeyeon nodded and folded her arms over her stomach.
“I hope it’s nothing serious, though… right? For both you and the baby.” You had to go back to being a decent human being.
“Yes, nothing much, just a little inconvenience, I have to be kept at the hospital because of and then a little more calmness before it’s time for the baby to come.” She fixed her eyes on her stomach and then back at you.
“Okay.” you nodded. At least it was nothing serious, as long as the mother and the baby are safe.
“So with the fact that I’m going there’s a few changes had to be made.” Right, the part that you dreaded. “My ideal plan was to find you a new accounting director. I personally believed at first that would be a better scenario, I’ll have the time to show them everything and hand you and your team over to good hands. Then, this happened” she made a motion in the air across her body, you guessed the medical condition is this. “and we were really short on time. We tried to rearrange teams really hard, and thought of different possibilities, we honestly did go through every possible match that could be made regarding teams and people within our agency. And then in clicked in my head, and Minyoung completely agreed with me on this. We ended up with the combo that will both leave our clients and our team happy.” Taeyeon got all cheer-y and excited
And this was the moment you believed she’ll announce your promotion and you taking the lead of the team you two been a part of for a few years now. “You’re going to join Jaehyun’s team and help him with the dive in inti our clients as well as joining forces with Nari on their.” You were sure the shock on your face was readable, because Taeyeon paused and looked at you. Not with that man, no. You were sure you could feel tears prickle your eyes, blinking them away and finding composure. Not Jaehyun, god, please. “We’ve shuffled through the options and Jaehyun really is the perfect match, I’m sure Nari have told you all about him.” No, not really. “Don’t tell anyone, but he really didn’t want to be of inconvenience for you and our girls, somehow he was under the impression you wouldn’t want working with him.” Oh, did he? You felt your head get really warm at all the information bbombarded you at once. “I believe you’ll actually make a great team.”
So that’s why Jaehyun was always so displeased walking out of Minyoung’s office? They were talking about him taking in more clients than he already has, taking Taeyeon’s full acount under him. That’s understandable, you would’ve not be happy about that either. Maybe he wasn’t pleased much to work with you, but you were sure it was the lesser of two evils. “We’ve began the transition already, we’ve had a few meetings. I’ll ask you to set a few meetings with him to give him a better dive in for things you do.” Taeyeon looked at her laptop for a moment, checking the notification, giving you private time with your emotions. You were screaming internally for the meantime. “I’ll make sure the transition goes smoothly for you too. For everyone, for that matter.” Taeyeon paused and looked at your astonished face. So you were decided to work under the man that boldly rejected you? Yum. “Honey, say something. I fought really hard for the you plus Nari team to happen. I thought you’ll be glad to hear that? Jaehyun is extremely professional, I know you don’t really know him, but he’s amazing at his job.” You almost chuckled at the don’t know him part. You sure did know him well enough.
“No, working with Nari does sound good, I just can’t believe this is so sudden-.” You trailed off, hearing the knocking on the door and turning your head to the sound to see the man of the hour present behind the glass.
“Right, I asked Jaehyun to come in for a second to make this whole thing official.” Taeyeon gestured for him to walk in and as he did so, he walked over to sit down next to Taeyeon, facing you. “I already broke down the news. I know you two will have great work chemistry and continue to bring high quality service to our clients.” She smiled, expecting a reaction out of you. You hoped she didn’t see the way his gaze focused on you at the word chemistry. Yeah, whatever chemistry you had prior to this ruined all possible good energy between you two for the upcoming eternity. You stared blankly back at your now almost not boss, trying to not see the face expression of the man in your peripheral sight. You didn’t want to know the man’s feelings or thoughts anymore. If he hated to be having to work with you or was neutral about the idea. You quite literally had to go look for a new job now.
“Ugh-.” You chuckled unsure, feeling pressured.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you earlier, Taeyeon shared the news with me before that office party we had?” Jaehyun looked at her like he wasn’t sure. She gave him a nod, a little right leaving her mouth. You felt like it was his way of explaining what happened without giving away much to the third party. “Since then we were constantly juggling options on how to handle the changes, settling with the one where you’re and your girls are going to become my team. I hope it’s not a disappointing turn of events.” Jaehyun let a little chuckle leave his mouth like he was talking all business and not the fact he kissed and then pushed you away. The wheels in your head turned. He didn’t know what was going to happen when he kissed you. He was in the push and pull competition afterwards, as they were deciding what to do with you and the team. He pushed you away as he found out you were in fact about to be his subordinate?
Oh god, why did that make him even more attractive in your eyes? Whatever disappointment you felt walking into that meeting dissolved at the little tug of his mouth upward.
“It’s not, I really am so happy for Taeyeon, and I’m just glad I’m keeping the clients, even under your supervision. I’m sure it’ll be okay.” Jaehyun held your stare, nodding in a barely there approval, making your heart twist with the way his eyes lingered over your mouth.
Taeyeon’s phone vibrated over the table, making that horrid sound of buzz in an empty room. “Oh shoot, this one’s important.” Taeyeon jumped up and picked up the call. “I feel like we’ve discussed the main question, we can wrap it up, right? Darling, if you have any questions or concerns, come to me freely. You know this.” Taeyeon sent an air kiss to you and finally focused on her phone, walking out. You sat down on your chair, staring into the wall before you, ignoring the man that was still left in the room with you. You hoped he’d explain himself.
Jaehyun fumbled with the pocket of his jacket, so distressed over the whole thing you genuinely found him cute. You watched Taeyeon turn the corner out of your sight, you also trying to act like you had an issue with your notebook, taking your time to walk out of the room. Jaehyun stood up and walked over the table closer to you and to the exit door. You had to take the matter in your hands.
"So this is why you didn't want to go any further with me?" you stood up and Jaehyun paused. You took a step closer to Jaehyun's side, the man straightening his back and becoming sickeningly close to you. He watched you move, his mouth sealed. You took it a little further and stood inappropriately close to his body.
If anyone walked in they'll understand you two were far from discussing business.
"Yes, I figured you would've not liked the fact you had sex with your future boss. Especially since I already partially knew the news." So it wasn’t him not liking you, it was him knowing you’ll hate him once the new arrangement will be announced. You felt the heat spread over your body, your chest getting heavy with the only right feeling you’ve ever felt for this man. Your mouth became a mere motion away from Jaehyun's as you stumbled even closer to him. You wondered if he could read the intention behind your motion. He acted like he didn't so you just took it even closer, leaving practically no gap between your mouths, but still not touching his lips with yours. You will not overstep it, if he didn’t like it, here could’ve stepped away. If he didn’t like you, he could’ve not stared at you like that.
"I would've not cared if you fucked me prior." you whispered in his mouth, trying to walk away immediately after, you’ve done your part. It really is on the man now. As Jaehyun caught up on your intention to leave, he pressed his fingers into your wrist, fingers of the other hand catching up with your neck and forcing you to stay in place.
"You really would've not?" Jaehyun’s fingers gripped your neck, not in a painful manner, but like he was firm wwith the intention of keeping you right in front of him, mouths a breath away from each other. Your whole body trembled at the touch, you were too much of a mess for him to try and move from his fingers or his pressing gaze.
Jaehyun’s eyes were trying to see the depths of your soul to figure out if you were telling the truth. You weren't sure what he could see in them, you didn't even know yourself how you would've felt if you did have sex with him before the news. Would you regret it? Would you beat yourself over it?
"I'm thankful." That’s all you found within you to say
"Why?" he snorted in amused manner, flexing his grip over your neck. It did sound funny, you agreed.
"You considered my feelings instead of following your own." If his real intention was sleeping with you, you had to applaud for his self composure and ability to think of the what if, while his fingers were cupping your ass.
"They were also my feelings." Jaehyun smirked, like you tried to give his character a personality trait that wasn’t there. But it was there, you could see it in his eyes now.
"I touched your hard cock with my own fingers, I know there wasn't a single sweet thought below your waist." Jaehyun opened his mouth, probably to protest. Closing it back like a fish. "Moreover, I could bet my life there's not a single sweet thought below that waist right this moment." your finger hooked one of the belt loops blindly, thankful you were able to find it in one go in such a sexy way. Jaehyun's arm immediately fought yours to move off him. You knew it’d be too awkward to have a hard on at the office, he was quite a boss at the end of the day. You didn’t intent on making him uncomfortable, you just needed for him, and for you too, to understand that you wanted each other equally. You weren’t making him like you. He wanted to fuck you as badly.
"If anyone walks past that door, we're both most likely fired." Jaehyun's eyes ran to the glass wall of the meeting room. His fingers gripping onto yours, holding you back from going any further with touching his crotch.
"I basically say spread my legs and fuck me and you only care for a job? I see." you clicked your tongue, taking a step away from him disappointed, his fingers still holding you in place by the neck.
"I didn't hear you say that." Jaehyun moved his hand, running fingers over your jaw and lips, hooking a finger under your ear. "But if you beg a little harder, I'd sell the world for you." his lips almost landed in the corner of your mouth, forcing goosebumps down your core. He brushed them by as he spoke and focused on your eyes once more.
“I am begging.” You whispered, unable to hold it in.
You were on fire.
From his hot touch, magnifying stare, the fact that his lips were so teasingly close to yours, yet haven’t touched your mouth properly since that day.
“Can’t say no to a pretty girl’s plea.” Jaehyun’s fingers wrapped over your waist in a swift motion you weren’t able to comprehend, flushing you straight against his frame.
“I wonder what this could mean?” You hoped the answer would be involving his body between your legs. Your arm found it’s way up Jaehyun’s shoulder and neck, caressing the slope of his jaw.
“I hope you have a pretty dress.” Jaehyun moved his face more into your touch in an almost invisible action.
“Why?” you didn’t catch up with the train of his thought, burning from the inside at the softness of his skin against your palm.
“We’re going on a date. I really want to spoil you tonight.” His fingers flexed on your waist, making you full on lean against his chest. The best feeling ever, you had to hold in a mewl.
“I’m spoiled enough if you’ll kiss me?” feeling his mouth on yours right now will quite literally send you in a different dimension. You already were overstimulated enough, he could get you done with a few touches and his mouth on yours.
“I took a little too long with my two kisses, I have to put in effort to pay you back.” He teased, running a thumb over your lower lip and fixing you with a gaze that could only be described as honey dripping off his lashes.
“You’ll kiss me all day long?” you asked sweetly, blinking your eyes at the little fires in Jaehyun’s eyes after your silly suggestion. “I hope you will. I’ll take day off’s for that. I’ll even let you walk past the entrance of my apartment this time.” You teased, hoping his mouth will land on yours. Jaehyun smiled, his little genuine smile like he really enjoyed your presence. No. You knew for sure he did enjoy your presence the same way you enjoyed his.
He washed away the smile as you two heard the voices in a distance.
“We have to be appropriate, you’re my subordinate.” Jaehyun's fingers wrapped your wrists and pulled them away from him, losing all of the contact you had previously and honestly starting to feel miserable and lonely.
You lost balance with the way the action was so sudden, only to completely fall into Jaehyun’s frame when the man pulled you back in, bear hug hiding you from the world completely, his wet burning lips touched the skin of your neck, a very inappropriately sounding smooch on the side of your neck before you could even process it. Jaehyun let you go and looked at you for a few more seconds, before taking off for real this time.
“See you around, I guess. If you have any questions about the transition, feel free to tell me.” He smiled at you, despite the sound of his voice being all business.
The kiss was enough of a power to make your body shirt circuit, your skin burn and your brain fog.
You couldn’t wait for tonight.
don't forget to like and follow for more <3
p.s. part 3 is them being all lovey-dovey, so buckle up for a whole lot of fluff and smut ;)
✮ tags/warnings: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, rough/dom jaehyun, dirty talk, name calling, oral (f receiving), fingering, spanking, creampie, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, heavy make out
✮ w.c: 2k
✮ a.n: my april fools surprise, my comeback lolollol & lowkey forgot today was april fools 😭😭😭
April 1st. The beginning of a new month, yet April 1st holds its own momentum— April Fools.
A day for jokes and laughter, pranks and unhinged behavior. And you’re no different from everybody else. You had your own trick up your sleeve specially prepared for today.
The victim: Jaehyun– your boyfriend of 3 years.
He doesn’t know what awaits him. You take one last look of yourself in the mirror, admiring your perfect body in the black skimpy dress you put on. It hugged your curves beautifully and although heavily revealing, that didn’t matter as you probably won’t make it past the living room in this dress.
When Jaehyun suggested you two go out for some drinks to let “loose” after an exhausting last couple of days, you didn’t miss a beat before you pieced together your April Fools prank.
Jaehyun may never admit it but he hates it when you wear something revealing, in particular the mouth-watering stares you get from other men. He just wishes he could gorge the eyes of every man who even dares look in your direction, and you… oddly enough find it hot.
And so tonight, what better way than to prank him by wearing this dress out in public. As you head towards the bedroom door, you inhale and exhale a breath before exiting the shared room.
“You ready?” Jaehyun speaks up from the couch when he hears the bedroom door shut.
“Yeah, let’s go,” you replied, watching as Jaehyun gets up.
He doesn’t look at you yet, a beat or two go by before his eyes finally land on you. He stills. His breath caught. Jaehyun’s speechless.
The more silent he goes, the more nervous you get. You try your best not to show it, can’t blow this up just yet.
“What’s wrong?” you questioned him, watching as his eyes devour you from head to toe– undressing you.
“What’s wrong?” he repeats, except more breathy and agitated.
Jaehyun moves closer, the spell that held him still coming undone. You’re backed against the wall, Jaehyun only a centimeter or two away. You could feel his breath on your exposed skin. You throbbed, finding this all too pleasuring.
“Where are you going dressed like…” he says before scanning your body again, “this.”
His eyes come back to yours.
“The bar. Isn’t that where you wanted us to go?”
No answer. He holds his eyes on yours, almost as if to see through you.
Jaehyun chuckles, leaning into your ear. “Not anymore,” he whispers.
His mouth clashes onto yours. Unlike his typical soft and gentle kisses, he’s devouring you in a heated exchange. His tongue fighting its way inside your mouth. Lips molding into yours like dough and teeth crashing into one another. He was like a dehydrated man and you were his only form of hydration.
His hands roam your body, leaving a trailing blaze down to your ass. His hands grope and play with your ass, his movements leaving you even more hot and heavy.
Jaehyun breaks away first, tugging onto your bottom lip. He doesn’t speak, just moves. He moves slowly down your body, his faint breaths seeping through your dress.
He’s on his knees, hands moving up your legs in a slow and excruciating manner. Jaehyun starts lifting your dress, all the way up to your stomach.
final a.n: hahahah, left yall on edge huh. hehe don’t worry though i will be releasing the rest veryyy soon (saturday!) stay tuned, glad to be back, stay safe & love u all!!! 🤍 (sorry for this April fools joke)
summary: Jaehyun realizes he's going to need to put some real work in to try to win you back. What, he didn't really think it would be easy to win you back, did he?
word count: 6.7k
warnings: profanity, angst, hurt, violence (a fight), drinking alcohol
a/n: THIS IS A PART 2! Read part 1, when the party's over, for context and catch up on more of my fratboy!Jae au!
Jung Jaehyun never thought he was stupid before this break up— could he even call it that? He always just figured he had one of those brains that wasn’t quite meant for academics and his strengths laid elsewhere. For a while he was able to convince himself that this was true. But then everything with you happened…
He’d gone and effectively ruined what could have possibly been the best, healthiest, most wonderful, most amazing relationship of his life just because he was a fucking idiot who didn’t know how to properly handle his feelings. Well, no, not an idiot for that reason alone, but more of an idiot because he said horrendous thing to you as a shit defense mechanism. He couldn’t chase after you, he couldn’t watch you leave, he couldn’t reach out, now, he could barely hear your name being said. He watched helplessly as the pictures of the two of you disappeared from your instagram, how one by one your friends all removed him from their following, how you blocked him, how soon enough he was like a ghost who had never even been a part of your life at all. A cautionary tale you’d one day share with your kids when you met the right man. He hated it. He hated it so much.
Every night he laid in bed, staring at his ceiling with a torturous pain in his chest that didn’t subside no matter how hard he cried, how loud he screamed into a pillow, no matter how much he drank, or how much he wrote about it. His actions, his words, the look of absolute pain and betrayal on your face haunted him unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Every time he laid down to clear his mind, there were your tear filled eyes staring at him in horror as his own voice echoed in his head, “what the fuck makes you think you’re so special?” How could he have asked you that?! How could he have spoken to you like that?! You’re the most special girl on campus, in the country, in his life, on the face of this planet! He hates himself for saying that!
Six weeks have passed of feeling like this. Six long weeks that pass by in a very numb, dull manner. Every day without you is bleak. He misses hearing you talk, he misses kissing you, he misses just being near you. It’s too much for him. Sometimes he’ll catch glimpses of you across campus and go running over to you, ready to fall to your feet and beg for your forgiveness, but one of your friends always sends him a glare that scares him to his core. It’s enough to keep him away from you.
It’s not just your friends that don’t let him forget. Haechan doesn’t make himself shy to drunkenly shout, “Jaehyun, I hate you!” It happens at every frat party Nu Chi hosts. It’s the only time Haechan even looks in Jaehyun’s direction since everything went down. It’s the only time he talks to him or yells at him or acknowledges him. Haechan has made it very obvious whose side he took in the breakup and it’s very obviously not Jaehyun. The other guys are at least more subtle with their disappointment and disapproval. They can pretend to have conversations with him in front of his face while also simultaneously talking about him behind his back. He’s caught Johnny and Taeyong doing that multiple times.
After 6 weeks of feeling like shit, Jaehyun decides it’s time to at least try to talk to you seriously. Maybe he doesn’t go about it the best way, scratch that, he absolutely does not, but he’s ready to try. He doesn’t want to go home for Thanksgiving break and explain to his family that he fucked up the best relationship he ever had. He’s determined to get you back if it’s the last think he does.
Jaehyun remembers your schedule for the semester and walks over to your dorm when he knows you’ll be home. In one hand he’s got a bundle of flowers, and in the other he’s got a box of your stuff that you’d left behind. Right, so… maybe returning your stuff wasn’t the best move, but maybe it would open the door to conversation somehow. At least, that’s what he was banking on.
He knocks, his heart pounding in his chest as he hears shuffling behind the door. There’s quick stomping behind the door and then Ari opens it. He feels disappointment just flood his body, but he keeps his smile on his face. “Hey Ari, is she uh, is she here?”
He can hear you whisper angrily, “tell him I’m not here!”
Ari recites robotically, “she’s not here.”
Jaehyun nods slowly, shame flooding his body. You don’t even want to see him. That stings like a damn smack to the face. He clears his throat, “well, I brought her things back. I brought her some flowers too. Could you… could you tell her that I’m really sorry? I know I fucked up, but I’d really just like her to know that I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never.”
He can hear you scoff, it sounds close, you must be standing on the other side of the door and he feels his heart pound in his chest. He’s never felt like this before, so nervous and anxious of what someone might think of him. Being around you has never made him feel anxious, yet here you are, 2 feet away and he feels like a kid with a crush all over again.
“Tell him he can fuck off and that I never want to see his stupid fucking face ever again,” comes your harsh whisper. A black garbage bag lands beside Ari’s leg, “and tell him to take his shit too.” Fuck… it was one thing to imagine the level of anger you held toward him, but to hear it hurt unlike anything else.
Ari grabs the bag and thrusts it toward Jaehyun, “she said this is for you.”
Jaehyun takes the bag, feeling a sense of desperation. You’re so close, he’s right here. All he wants to do is talk. He just wants to talk to you and apologize, that’s it. He wants you to know that he didn’t mean anything he said and he would always have a special place in his heart for you. Always.
“Sweetheart, I— please,” Jaehyun tries.
Ari’s face pulls into what he assumes to be is a somewhat sympathetic frown, jerking the garbage bag in his direction once more, “this is your stuff.”
The painful feeling in his chest returns. A tight, burning sensation that steals the breath from his lungs and brings a pressure to his eyes. He nods silently, setting the box beside Ari’s feet before taking the bag from her hands. Very weakly he manages to get out, “these are for her.”
Ari takes the flowers, sending Jaehyun a tiny smile before he makes his way down the hall like he has many times before. He hears your door open and he turns with a feeling of bright hope. You’re going to come to him. Everything is going to be ok. He’ll get to apologize, you’ll take him back, and everything will be fine. It’s not you though, it’s just your arm tossing the bouquet of flowers down the hall in his direction.
His heart drops.
But he’s not giving up yet.
The next time he tries to talk to you admittedly, isn’t his best work, but it was spur of the moment! He decides to wait outside one of the buildings where your class is being held after one of his lectures ended early. He’s not proud to admit that he’s been studying the schedule of your classes that you sent him before everything went down. Actually, he’s been religiously poring over every interaction the two of you shared. He’s rereading texts, listening to songs you shared, and staring at pictures. He knows that this isn’t a class that you share with any of your friends and on these you walk home alone. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to act.
Luckily, he’s better prepared this time. He’s been thinking about his apology to you on a regular basis. He thinks about it when he showers, when he eats, before bed, during chapter meetings, in class. Every chance he gets to think about what he’s going to say, he uses to practice his words over and over again. By now, he knows the exact words he wants to say, he knows what he wants to apologize for, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he wants you.
He sits on a bench just a couple yards away from your building, anxiously twiddling his thumbs and biting his bottom lip. He thinks he must look crazy. His hair is unkempt, bags under his eyes, and his knee is bouncing anxiously,.The class starts to pour out, but Jaehyun knows well enough that you won’t be one of the first ones out of the class. You like to stay behind to clear up any amount of confusion you had, even if it was just a word you thought you misheard. He finds himself wishing it was last semester all over again when the two of you had that child development class together. God, he’d do anything to go back and do it all over again, but better this time. He wouldn’t let you slip away if he could do it again.
He wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans and stands. His heart starts to race in his chest when he sees you. You look beautiful, radiant even. The warm sun illuminates your hair, making you look like an angel right from heaven. You’re looking down at a piece of paper as you walk down the steps, right in his direction. He hates that he find himself thinking that you look even too pretty, too calm. It doesn’t look like you got your heartbroken just a month ago. You look normal, too normal while he looks like shit.
He clears his throat and shakes that thought out of his head, exhaling to calm himself before he calls out, “Sweetheart, hey.”
Your head snaps up like someone just scared you. Your eyes are wide, spine straight, and whole body tensed. Jaehyun notices immediately that your body language tells him that you’re uncomfortable. It makes him feel sick.
Your eyes flick up to meet his but you immediately begin walking away from him. Not a word. Not more than a second of eye contact. Just walking away right away.
He starts following you, reaching out to lightly grasp your wrist, “Sweets I just want to talk. You don’t even have to respond-”
You wrench your arm from his touch and his breath catches in his throat. Your gaze is fiery and angry, but your voice is calm, “what the hell makes you think that I would allow you to speak to me again?” Your voice is angry, as is your gaze, but fuck, your eyes look so pretty. The beautiful, deep pools of what he’s discovered is his favorite color to have ever existed. His mind knows it, and his heart certainly knows it too. There’s still a connection between the two of you. Something just clicks when he looks you in the eye.
“I just want to apologize,” Jaehyun stutters, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
“And you can continue wanting to do so. Maybe I’ll let you wait and stew around for four months feeling like a total dumbass like you did to me,” you bite at him.
“Sweetheart, I’m just sorry, alright?” Jaehyun tries again, feeling desperate. It feels like he’s trying to grasp at slippery grains of sand that just keep slipping through his fingers. Why is this so difficult?
“I am too.” You reply shortly, turning on your heel and walking away before he can say anything else. He knows you don’t mean that you’re sorry about what you said during the fight. He knows that your sorry means that you’re sorry you ever wasted your time with him.
His throat feels tight, his eyes burn with unshed tears as he watches you walk away. Nothing has ever hurt as badly as this does. He doesn’t care that past hook-ups could walk by and see him about to cry, he doesn’t care that he’ll look uncool. He cares that he feels helpless, that he won’t get you back. He feels like he fucked up so badly that you might never even look in his direction again.
But still he refuses to give up until he can actually give you the apology you deserve. He just hates that the mere sight of you makes him clam up and forget everything he had planned to say.
After the last try he starts to go a little crazy. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he had created an extra Instagram account to watch your friend’s Instagram stories. He sees how you practically glow on the screen. You look so ethereal. Like a goddess straight from Mount Olympus. He spends countless nights tapping away through countless friends’ Instagram stories. He sees how they all rally around you with dinner parties, movie nights, partying, and clubbing. In every picture, he can only focus on your face. Your beautiful face smiling so brightly at the camera like nothing horrible has happened to you. Like some dumbass with a 2.0 GPA (barely hanging on by a thread) hasn’t broken your heart and likely made you wary of any romantic interactions to come in the future. Every picture of you, every version of your smiling face, obscured with a plastic cup, covered with a sheet mask, eyes looking elsewhere, is burned into the deep recesses of his mind. How could he have ever hurt someone so beautiful, inside and out?
It’s one of the reasons why he knows you’re at a fucking Alpha Sig party tonight… looking hot as hell in a cute little crop top and your tightest jeans. He sends a mental thank you to Ari for posting a short clip of you guys taking a shot together before you dance off the burning sensation in your throat. It’s the same reason he manages to convince a handful of his own Nu Chi brothers into going to the same party with some weak excuse of fraternity relations.
That’s how he finds himself here, pressed against the wall of the Alpa Sig frat house, hoodie over his head, dead sober as he watches you dance happily with your friends. You look so happy, so carefree, like a love interest right from one of the romance movies you’d made him watch what feels like 100 years ago. Nights where he grumbled about not wanting to watch a stupid romance movie but ended up more invested than you were.
He watched you like he was stuck in some kind of trance. The colored lights flashed and strobed across the crowd of gyrating bodies in what he assumed was the living room when they weren’t partying. He watched as your hips swayed, arms raised as you move to the bone-shaking beat of the house music. He watches as Kira joins you and Ari, watches as she pushes another plastic cup into your hand, he sees how your eyes clench shut at the taste, but you don’t stop drinking whatever you have in your cup. He can’t help the way his eyes track every enticing sway of your hips, how your crop top lifts just a few inches which makes his mouth water. You don’t look inhibited by any kind of break up or broken heart like he does. He looks like some kind of sick and tired ghost summoned to ruin the vibe of the party. Where he used to attract girls like flies to a pot of sweet honey, his frankly off-putting vibe radiates off him so that the only people that can stand to be around him are his brothers that he dragged here. None of them would have ever been found dead at an Alpha Sig party if it weren’t for Jaehyun, and he would have never been found here it it weren’t for you.
He drags his tired eyes away from Yuta and Johnny’s faces, back to you. You and… who the fuck is that touching you?! There’s a random guy pressed to your back with one hand on your hip and the other on your waist, rising slowly until his hand is completely concealed by the tiny t-shirt you wear. He can see the guy dip his head down, whispering something into your ear before his lips begin to press against the slope of your neck.
Jaehyun is moving before he can even register what he’s feeling. He’s pushing through people until he has his hands on the neck of this asshole who had the guts to touch you. And then Jaehyun’s fist is hitting this guy’s jaw. Then, the punching doesn’t stop. Not when you start to scream and beg Jaehyun to stop. Not when Jaehyun has this guy on the floor beneath him. Not when the broken skin on his knuckles starts to sting. Not when the music stops. He can’t help it, he can’t stop himself. “She’s mine you fucking asshole! How dare you?!” He yells and it feels euphoric. It feels like the only way he can get out any fraction of the pain he’s been feeling for a month and a half now.
Four hands haul Jaehyun off the douchebag. A panting douchebag who sits up and smiles smugly at Jaehyun before calling out, “you punch like a bitch!”
Johnny and Yuta grunt while they drag Jaehyun out of the house, where the cold air of the night feels like a splash of ice cold water against his face. A refreshing feeling that lasts for only a second before you’re storming down the stairs with tears streaming down your cheeks before you’re coming at him and roughly shoving his chest. He shouldn’t feel his heart skip a beat when your hands touch him, but he does.
You shove him again, “who the fuck do you think you are?! Huh?”
“Sweetheart, he was touching all up on you. I wasn’t going to just stand and watch it happen,” he explains while he holds his hands up in mock defense.
Your tears don’t stop, your breathing quickens, “and what if I wanted him to touch me? What makes you the all knowing genius for what I want and don’t want? Why the fuck does that matter?!”
His breath catches in his throat and the harsh feel of your hands on his chest makes him take a faltering step back, “b-but that’s not you. You don’t… you don’t do stuff like that.” He knows you don’t. You made it very clear to him when you first met that his flirting wasn’t going to get him into your pants and even when he genuinely tried, it took him weeks to get you to see that he had real feelings for you.
“Yeah?” You breathe out, using the back of your hand to wipe away your mascara-mixed tears, “how well did my normal work out for me with you? God forbid a girl just wants to have a good time.”
He feels his ears ring, eyes widen, had he hurt you so badly that you were just going to go around and do whatever with random men? Not even random men, a fucking Alpha Sig brother?! That’s lower than low. That’s even lower than the bar he had set in hell for you.
His voice sounds broken, “have a good time with me!”
You scoff, your face twisting into one of disgust, “you’re a piece of shit, Jung Jaehyun.”
You’re turning on your heel and practically running away from him before he can respond, but this time he doesn’t just let you walk away. He’s made that mistake twice before and only idiots let the same mistake happen three times.
He’s moving after you quickly, desperately calling out, “I’m sorry!”
Johnny is in front of him before he can get too far, too close to you. His hand is gripping the back of Jaehyun’s hoodie, preventing him from running any further. “You have to let her go right now, dude,” Johnny tells him calmly.
Jaehyun sidesteps to get around his taller best friend but Johnny won’t let that slide. He anticipates every single one of Jaehyn’s moves. Jaehyn feels his breathing speed up, he’s clutching at the front of his hoodie like the fabric is suffocating him, “Johnny, please. I have to apologize.”
“She doesn't want to hear it right now. Nothing good would come of a conversation between the two of you right now,” Taeyong adds quietly.
Jaehyun’s eyes widen as he turns to face his friends surround him with a wild look in his eyes, “do you guys want me to be fucking miserable forever? I need her back!”
“You fucked up, Jaehyun! Do you know that?” Johnny yells, stepping forward to shove Jaehyun roughly until he’s stumbling back. A swift smack to the back of his head follows the harsh shove.
“I know that! You don’t think that I don’t think about that afternoon on a daily basis?!” Jaehyun screams back, while rubbing the back of his head.
Haechan steps in now, who knows where the hell this kid came from, “no! You need to sit here and really think about what the hell you’ve made her go through. You let her enter a relationship with you under the pretense that you would some day become her boyfriend. The second you heard that word you became some kind of mega asshole and broke her heart.” Jaehyun goes to argue, but Haechan stops him with a hand held up, “I’m not done, dumb fuck. This apology, this little search for forgiveness to make yourself feel better doesn’t happen on your time. It will happen when and if she’s ready. You don’t get to keep cornering her and constantly fucking reminding her of the pain you’ve put her through.”
The group around them is silent, everyone listening and waiting with bated breath to hear what their suddenly-super-wise younger brother will say next, “if you choose to pull some kind of stupid shit like this on one of my best friends again, I pray that some higher power has some mercy on you, because I won’t stop beating the shit out of you until I feel like it, and I have a lot of anger I need to take out on you.”
“I’ve been there for the handful of phone calls where she cried herself to sleep, the nights where she screamed and cursed your name, and the days when finally, she started feeling better and had the strength to haul herself out of bed after you broke her heart. So yeah, I have a lot of anger toward you so if that means I whale on you for more than a day, then it happens,” Haechan shrugs as if he just said the most casual thing on the planet, “so get your head out of your ass. Stop being selfish and leave her the fuck alone.”
The group that stands on the sidewalk outside the Alpha Sig house is still and quiet, probably more than they ever have been. The weight of Haechan’s words sit heavily in the air between all of them. They know it’s true, they know Haechan is right. It’s just that none of them have had the strength to say anything because Jaehyun has been so clearly distraught after the break up. Even Jaehyun knows he needed to hear it. Haechan is right… Jaehyun hasn’t even considered if you want to see him. He’s only been acting on what he feels.
Doyoung clears his throat, breaking the silence with, “I just thought I’d let you guys know that the Alpha Sig guys aren’t going to report Jaehyun. I convinced them not to make a complaint to the dean when I reminded them how often they’re brothers have been thrown out for preying on people at our parties. You’re just banned from any Alpha Sig events for a lifetime.”
Jaehyun nods numbly, letting out a weak, “thanks, bro.” Fuck, he hadn’t even considered that he could have gotten thrown out of school or even thrown in jail! He just fucking assaulted someone! He acted on his anger and his instincts the second he saw that asshole’s hands and lips on you.
He breaks down then, he falls to his knees with his shoulders shaking and his head in his hands. Everything is such a fucking mess! He hasn’t made any progress with you. In fact, he’s probably pushed you even further away from him. He’s basically failing all his classes because the only thing that can stay in his mind is you. You and how he hurt you and how good he had it and good he could have been having it now if he just hadn’t been a goddamn idiot! And now he just beat up one of his peers and could have been sent to jail, because once again, he acted without thinking properly!
His hands feel numb, a strange tingling sensation that spreads all the way up his fingers and into his brain as he pushes his palms against his eyelids. His shoulders shake with the force of his crying, deep, pained sobs escape his throat. He knows he has no one to blame but himself. It just hurts so damn bad.
He recognizes Johnny’s cologne and when he pries his swollen, tear-filled eyes open he looks up to see his best friend holding him. It’s comforting, like the hug of an actual older brother. An overwhelming stench of sweat, alcohol, and strong cologne engulfs Jaehyun next. A group hug. He let’s out a watery laugh.
Johnny squeezes his shoulder, shaking him lightly, “everything is gonna work out, bro. You just gotta give it some time. Thanksgiving break is just a few days away, and a week at home will give you some time to clear your head.”
Jaehyun wipes his eyes, “you think so?”
“We know so. Just be patient, be forgiving to yourself. Be patient and let yourself process your emotions,” Taeyong adds with a gentle smile.
It’s a week until the end of the semester when Jaehyun sees you again. Two weeks since he last saw you. 9 weeks since everything went to shit.
It’s finals week and Jaehyun has decided to refocus himself and get his grades up so he doesn't flunk out of school. He finds that his breath still hitches but his steps don’t falter like they did before. His instincts scream at him to go up to you and try to apologize again, but he doesn’t. He won’t admit that he’s genuinely scared of Haechan’s threat to beat his ass… but he is. It also helps that he got some very sage advice from his parents when he got home and poured his heart out to them.
He sits in a chair, with his back to you as he pulls his laptop open. A half done study guide fills his screen and he finds himself smiling. A study guide, the library, you. This is how it all began. He doesn’t think he believed in signs before, but this has to be one.
Nothing happens that day, but he finds that he’s finally alright with that.
It’s the last night before Jaehyun leaves for winter break when there’s a knock on the door of his room. He’s in his room packing his bags to head home for the holidays. Johnny knocks on his open bedroom door, “hey bro, there’s uh- there’s someone here to see you.”
“Me?” Jaehyun asks, looking up from the clothes he’s been haphazardly stuffing in his duffel bag.
From behind Jaehyun, you step out and Jaehyun’s heart skips a beat. Your eyes flicker up from the hardwood floor to meet his and there’s that familiar click of just… universal correctness. You clear your throat, hands nervously fiddling in front of your body, “hey.”
“Hey,” he breathes out, the cotton in his hands dropping onto the mess of his bag.
Johnny backs away slowly, leaving the two of you alone.
It’s strange having you here in his room again. It’s not a bad strange, it feels right, but he also knows that this room holds a lot of memories for the two of you, not all of them good. The room where everything happened. The room where everything ended.
“How are you?” You ask slowly.
Jaehyun nods, a little too eagerly, “good, I’m good. You?”
“Same,” you breathe out awkwardly. The room is tense. You shake your head, before exhaling quickly, “look, I came because I don’t want to start the new year on bad terms with anybody. I owe you an apology, Jaehyun. I’m sorry I drudged up my insecurities and basically slut-shamed you again. I know we fixed it one time, so we shouldn't have had to do it twice. I was insecure and hurt I should have thought about what I said before I spoke. Even though things between us didn’t work out, I didn’t want either of us, especially you, to go into the new year thinking that I was ashamed of what you decided to do with your own body and your own time before we were even together.”
Jaehyun nods, he’s stunned. He doesn’t think you have anything to apologize for. “Th-thanks,” he stammers out.
You nod to yourself, “well, that’s all I had to say. Have a good break, Jaehyun.”
Before you turn to leave, Jaehyun’s voice comes out quietly, “can I get my apology out too, please? I’ve been needing to do this for over two months. You don’t have to accept it, you can say no, but I need to do this.”
Your eyes are wide, your body language tells him you’re clearly stunned, and nervous. Despite that, you nod, “yeah, yeah that’s fine.”
He closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, giving himself a mental pep talk before his eyes are on you again. Comfort floods his system and he begins his apology that he’s been practicing for weeks now. “You deserve better than what I gave you. No girl deserves to go through how I treated you and how I spoke to you.”
You nod silently and he continues, “it’s not an excuse but I owe you an explanation. It’s no secret that I haven’t been in a committed relationship in a long time. It’s something that I guess I’ve forgotten how to handle. I’ve never been with anyone that made me want to be in anything committed until you. I’d been feeling nervous and insecure for months, but I didn’t know how to say that to you. I didn’t know how to tell you, the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, that I was scared that I wasn’t good enough for you. I got into my head about it, the thought had been plaguing me for weeks and the day everything went to shit… I just gave up. I didn’t try to say exactly what I was feeling and I let old habits take over. I didn’t mean anything I said and I hate that I said all of that. When it was happening I just felt like I was watching myself act like a dick and I couldn’t stop myself.”
He pauses, taking a beat to calm himself down before he starts to get anxious again, “I should have chased after you. I should have told you that it was alright for your friend to come party with us, but I was scared. I meant it when I said I haven’t been a boyfriend in a long time. I’ve been acting like the total opposite for most of my college experience. I’m the guy that girls warn their friends not to get attached to. I didn’t want that to be how we ended up. I wanted to be better for you. I still do. I should have given you time to process what happened instead of cornering you and forcing you to listen to my groveling and I sure as hell shouldn’t have resorted to violence when you weren’t doing anything wrong. Actually, I shouldn’t have resorted to violence at all.”
“I really miss who I was with you. I miss the way you made me feel. You made me feel giddy and warm and loved in a way I have never felt. What I feel for you isn’t some kind of puppy love like I felt for Hana. It’s real and I’ll be kicking my ass for the rest of my life for not telling you how I really feel. I love you and that is so fucking scary for me to admit because it’s never felt this strong or this real. I’m not saying this to try to sway you in my direction. I won’t blame you for moving on or leaving right now, but I owed you this apology. I’ve owed you this apology for months now. I’ll completely understand if you don't forgive me, I don’t think I would,” his shoulders drop, feeling an immense weight off of his shoulders, “that’s it. I’ll let you on your way now, I’ve stolen enough of your time.”
“How do you know?” He hears you ask and it’s then that he really looks at you, not just the spot over your head so he didn’t lose his train of thought. You have tears lining your eyes, shining in the overcast light that streams in through his blinds.
He fights his every instinct to drop at your feet and comfort you. His brows pinch softly, “how do I know what?”
“How do you know that you love me?” Comes your reply, voice thick with emotion and followed by a sniffle.
“Because no one makes me feel the way you do. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s invigorating. You’re on my mind with everything I do. I put extra effort in everything I do because I want to be better for you. Because your laugh has become my favorite sound, the color of your eyes is my favorite color, your shampoo is my favorite scent. Because my bed has felt lonely without you in it and my heart has a you shaped hole in it. When I picture my future, it’s you by my side in every single scenario that I imagine. I imagine myself cheering you on at graduation. I imagine us in our own apartment someday and I even think about stupid shit like you and I someday studying together again. You make loving seem like something less anxiety inducing like I once thought and instead make it something I regret ever fighting. Being in love with you is so damn easy because you’re the most lovely, lovable, loving person on the face of the planet and I have been lucky to discover this feeling with you.”
You cover your mouth with your hand to suppress a sob, moving across the small space between the two of you to hug Jaehyun tightly. Your tears soak his sweats and he just holds you, letting you let out your emotions while he rubs a warm hand up and down your back. With a shuddering breath you pull away from his hold to look him in the eye, his thumbs swipe away the tears under your eyes as his hands move up to gently cup your face. “I accept your apology, Jaehyun. I…” you stop yourself, your eyes clearly reflecting the whirlwind of emotions you’re feeling, “I was going to tell you that I loved you too that week when everything happened. For a week I convinced myself that I hated you but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I hated myself for still loving you even after everything you said. Love doesn’t go away easily.”
His heart soars. A life of pure joy escaping his lips as he fighting his arms around you and tuck his face into the crook of your neck, “holy shit, you mean it?”
He can feel you nod, “I do. I do mean it. But Jaehyun… I’m not going to give you a second chance if there’s any doubt in your mind about me or us. Be honest with me and tell me if you think there’s any chance that you think we won’t last.”
He meets your gaze, leaning in until his forehead meets your own. His voice is low but there’s not a shred of doubt in his voice, “I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up. I will regret it until the day I die, but I also know that I am yours, completely and utterly yours until you get tired of me. I will work every day, harder than the last to earn back your trust and not only tell you, but show you how much I love you and care for you.”
“I can’t do this again if we can’t commit to each other. I won’t put myself in that position again.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to put you in that position. I want you and you alone. Give me any title you want, boyfriend, husband, fiancé. If you want me to get down on one knee in the middle of the student union if you want me to. You could call me your son for all I care. I just don’t want you to have any sliver of doubt in your mind that I don’t want this, us, to work out. I want this for this long run. I want us to be like Noah and Ally in the old folks home and the only thing we remember is each other. I want you forever,” he tells you with a bright smile.
You laugh and his heart skips a beat, “they die at the end Jae.”
“By the time we’re old, science will have discovered a way to get us to live forever and get us to work because every government are capitalistic machines. That’s beside the point— our love is going to last forever.”
Your smile gentles, wariness still swims in the depths of your eyes, “you know, just because you confess that you love me and apologize doesn’t mean that you’re completely off the hook. Like I need you to understand that my trust has to be earned and you have to work for it.”
Jaehyun feels a wave of relief, “I absolutely understand you loud and clear. It’s clearer than crystal.”
“Don’t make me regret giving you a second chance,” you whisper quietly, “please, don’t make me regret this, Jaehyun.”
“I promise. I swear. I swear on my own life, and if I let you down, then I’ll let Haechan go apeshit on me like he threatened,” Jaehyun’s thumbs gently rub at the fullness of your cheeks, “so please, will you please be mine officially? Will you be my girlfriend, please?”
“Yes. Yes, I will,” you smile up at him.
His lips are on yours in the blink of an eye. Jaehyun feels like he’s going to cry, hands gently clutching at the soft skin of your jaw as he kisses you with a tender passion. His lips move against your own in a way that just feels natural, like he was made to do it. It’s never felt like this with anyone else, he doesn’t need to try it with anyone else, because he knows this is what is right.
He pulls back with his chest heaving, a smile on his face, “I think I owe you about a million more kisses to make up for lost time and to win your trust back.”
“We have time,” you reply with a sweet smile. Fuck, he’s missed seeing that smile up close.
“No, a million kisses today. I’ve already lost like 12 hours. Let’s stop talking.”
genre: smut, fluff | word count: 8.6k | deadly sins series | m.list navi
pairing: soft dom! jaehyun x afab! reader
warnings: virgin! reader, slight violence (jaehyun punches someone; mentions of reader being afraid of her ex after the break up), mentions of masturbation, oral (m! and f! receiving), lots of checking in, lots of talking through it, pet names, fingering, praising, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie
summary: jaehyun absolutely hates your boyfriend, so when you break up with him at a party, he sees an opportunity for you to be his in more ways than one. | deadly sin: envy
a/n: jaehyun is very sweet in this. as part of the deadly sins series, there’s mentions of envy, but not the full focus. also, there’s mentions of other members.
⌞ pinterest board ⌝ ≫ concept photos
Jaehyun watched as the night played out in his favor. Your boyfriend leads another woman into an empty bedroom only for you to find him sloppily making out with someone that clearly isn’t you. Jaehyun watches as you cuss your boyfriend out, shoving him away every time he tries to apologize and promise to never do it again. Jaehyun sees how desperate your boyfriend is to act as if nothing happened between the two of you just minutes before he throws flirty glances at another girl at the party you hate being invited to, only for you to finally dump him in front of his friends.
Making his way to you through the crowd of drunk people, Jaehyun feels a tight grip around his toned bicep before a harsh tug pulls him away from closing the distance with you.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Your ex spats, jaw clenching at the sight of Jaehyun. “Better not be to my girlfriend.”
“Man, fuck you,” Jaehyun scoffs. “Last time I checked, she dumped your ass.”
“What makes you think she’ll want you?”
“Afraid she might, huh?” Jaehyun’s jaw clenches, his hand already balled into a fist.
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think she’ll want you. You don’t think I see you easing your way into my relationship — must’ve killed you to see her with me huh? After everything I put her through, she still chose me and you’re still pining over her like a pathetic loser.”
Jaehyun’s fist meets your ex-boyfriend’s jaw before a crowd begins to form to egg them on while they watch these two grown men fight. As they’re pulled off each other by their friends, you see your ex spit at Jaehyun’s shoes.
“Just fucking admit it, man. You’re jealous of me!” Your ex taunts Jaehyun, who wipes off the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “You want my girl and you can’t have her.”
Jaehyun laughs, stepping closer to your ex with a maniacal expression on his face, ignoring his friend’s pleas to simply walk away. “Why would I be jealous of a little bitch like you?” His height advantage easily intimidates your ex boyfriend who looks up at Jaehyun who proceeds to slightly lean forward towards your ex’s ear. “You and I both know she’d choose me in a heartbeat all because you cheated.” He whispers, having only him hear his words. Jaehyun flashes a devilish smirk before his eyes darken. He straightens his posture before turning on his heel and making his way toward you once again. Your ex lunges at Jaehyun, only to be held back by his friends.
Maintaining eye contact with you and not saying a word, Jaehyun tilts his head towards the exit, extending his hand for you to grab. You look behind him as your unfaithful ex partner burns a hole into Jaehyun’s back with an intense glare, mentally cursing him for having enough courage to do what he’s doing in front of everyone at the party.
It was clear that your ex boyfriend and Jaehyun never got along. The tension between them at parties was so intense, you could cut it with a knife. The first time you met Jaehyun, he was nice enough to distract you from your ex-boyfriend’s nasty habit of pursuing others while in a relationship with you. The minute your ex found out you were hanging out with Jaehyun, his demeanor switched — ensuring you were by his side the entire night. Every night since then, Jaehyun was always there at parties despite his hatred for your ex because he always used it as an excuse to talk to you. His glances towards you never go unnoticed by you or your ex-boyfriend, always sparking arguments about whether or not you’ve given Jaehyun an idea or opportunity to be with you — a rich accusation coming from a cheater himself.
You take Jaehyun’s hand, his dimpled smile lighting up the room. He swiftly pulls you out the front door and into his car.
“How’s your lip?” You ask, concerned for the man in front of you. Your fingers gently guide his head to face you, your eyes quickly scanning the damage done to his face.
“I’ll heal,” he smiles, taking his hand into yours before gently squeezing it as reassurance. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Wasn’t expecting you to end your relationship in front of everyone, tonight.”
“I’ll heal,” you smile, playfully mocking the man who happily swept you away from the party you didn’t want to be at. “Tonight was the last straw, I’m done with him. I’ve been done with him”
Jaehyun smiles at you as he warms up his car’s engine. “So, any particular place you want to go to tonight?”
You lift your shoulders into a shrug. Before you can answer, a pounding on your side’s window startles you. Looking at the aggressive knocker, you roll your eyes to see it’s your ex boyfriend attempting to get you out of the car. Your ex boyfriend is utterly livid — at both you and Jaehyun but neither of you care. In unison, you both lift your middle finger to your ex before Jaehyun floors the gas and brings you to god knows where in the middle of the night.
You both sit on the trunk of his car, silently looking up at the night sky together.
“Can I ask you something?” Jaehyun asks, pushing back his dark hair away from his face.
“Sure, anything you want.” You give him a warm smile before rubbing your skin to keep you warm during the cold night.
“Why did you stay with your ex for so long? I mean, he’s an asshole right?” He clears his throat. “What’s a girl like you wasting time on him?”
“Honestly?” You bite down on your bottom lip, nervously. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“What finally pushed you over the edge tonight?” Without missing a beat, Jaehyun strips his oversized jacket off his body and gently throws it over your shoulders, taking notice of your shivers. You silently thank him, quickly squeezing his thigh through his black denim jeans.
“It’s embarrassing to say,” you mumble.
“For you or for him?”
“For me.”
Jaehyun doesn’t push any further, clearly not wanting to overstep your boundaries. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.” He places a comforting hand on your back before rubbing circles with the palm of his hand. His hand falls to the metal of his trunk, his thumb occasionally rubbing the exposed skin between your skirt and the hem of your tight shirt.
“He told me that he cheats because I refuse to have sex with him.”
“Oh?” It’s clear you’ve caught Jaehyun off guard with your response. “Like you’ve never done anything with him?”
“I mean I’ve sucked him off maybe once or twice but that was about it.”
“Didn’t like it?”
“Not with him,” you giggle. “It wasn’t fun and it was over as quickly as it started.”
“You haven’t done anything with anyone?” Jaehyun asks bashfully, a bit embarrassed of asking the question although he is incredibly curious about the answer.
You give him a small smile. “Are you judging me right now?” You playfully furrow your eyebrows at his question.
“N-no,” he quickly responds. “I’m surprised, that’s all. Sorry, I -“
“I’m kidding, Jae.” You laugh, cutting him off mid sentence and playfully nudging him in the arm.
Jaehyun’s shoulders relax, chuckling to himself as he felt the relief that he didn’t offend you — the last thing he wanted to do.
“You’re probably wondering why I haven't done it yet, huh?”
He nods.
You let out an exasperated sigh. “I just want to do it with someone I trust and you and I both know I clearly couldn’t trust my ex.” You stick your arms into the sleeves of Jaehyun’s jacket that slings over your shoulders. Bringing the palm of your hands to your lips, you exhale your warm breath onto your skin, hoping to warm up your cold hands. “Can I ask you a question?” You let out, your eyes meeting Jaehyun’s.
“Sure, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks, warming your face as he casually compliments you.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” Your words halt for a second. “Unless you do and I’m just unaware of it.”
“I don’t,” he clarifies, petting the back of your head with his hand before taking your cold hands into his warm palms. You smile in relief as you feel Jaehyun’s warmth — you’re convinced your fingers would fall off from the cold. “I don’t have one because the girl I had my eyes on was in a relationship with this asshole,” he rolls his eyes playfully.
“Oh?” You giggle. “Is she still in a relationship with this asshole?”
He shakes his head. “Actually, no. In fact, she broke up with him earlier tonight. It was a sight to see, you should’ve been there.” A toothy smile appears and Jaehyun lightly nudges you with his shoulder.
“So you waited in hopes she’d end her relationship?”
“To be fair,” Jaehyun pauses, “I wasn't intending on waiting, I just couldn’t go through with having a committed relationship.”
“No judgement here,” you smile, watching Jaehyun bring your hands to his lips, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin as he exhales. “I’m surprised you weren’t jealous.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I was!” You and Jaehyun both laugh at his words. “Why do you think I hate him so much? You were his and that’s all I wanted.”
Turning your body to face him. “Is that how you still feel?” Your eyes meet his, searching for an answer. You see his eyes soften at the sight of you, cupping your jaw with his hand. He runs his thumb gently over your cheekbone.
“Absolutely.”
Before you know it, you’re pressing your lips against Jaehyun’s. Your cold hands send shivers through his body as you cup them behind his neck, pulling him closer. His hands find your waist, pressing the pads of his fingers against your soft skin. Rapid text tones from Jaehyun’s phone pulls you both out of the trance you started.
mark: dude where are you?
mark: y/n’s ex is livid
mark: he’s looking for you and y/n
yuta: he’s crashing out on ig stories right now
haechan: it’s fucking hilarious btw
haechan: [one video attached]
yuta: he tried to fight johnny because he wouldn’t tell him where you are
johnny: he’s a little bitch
johnny: ran out the door when i pushed him
haechan: pushed? bro, you threw him against the wall
haechan: i’m pretty sure i heard bones crack
johnny: still a bitch move to run away
mark: don’t take y/n home
mark: he said he’s gonna wait for you guys there
Jaehyun shows you the group chat he has with his friends before quickly typing a response ensuring you’re safe and that you’ll be spending the night with him.
“You’re sure I won't be bothering you if I stay the night?” Biting your bottom lip in hesitation, watching as Jaehyun pushes his phone in the front pockets of his pullover sweater.
“I promise.” His thumb rubs your knuckles, soothing any nerves you have. “I’d feel better knowing you’re safe.” Jaehyun takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he hops off his trunk, causing you to follow his actions. “Let’s get going, I live like 5 minutes away from here.” He guides you to the passenger’s side door, opening it and buckling in, knowing your fingers are probably frozen in place. Once he gets in, he turns on the heater, ensuring you’re warm for the short ride.
As he parks in his usual spot in the private parking garage underground, you quickly look around, slightly paranoid about seeing your ex. Jaehyun reassures you that your ex won’t be coming by, adding on the fact that his apartment building has top notch security.
You closely follow Jaehyun into the front door of his apartment, fingers interlocked with his. As he pushes his front door open, you hear it quickly slam shut and an automatic lock is heard. You watch as he removes his shoes and your body mimics his movements. He gives you a short tour of his fairly lavish apartment, definitely a lot better than the old shaggy loft your ex leased out — barely maintaining it and paying the monthly rent.
Jaehyun helps you remove his oversized jacket that kept you warm, tossing it onto a single arm chair that’s strategically placed in his front hallway, near his shoe rack.
“Nice place,” you smile while making your way to his living room couch. You quickly realize Jaehyun’s well off — more than you ever thought he was.
“Thanks,” he smiles, making his way over to you with two glass waters in his hands. He places the water filled glasses on the coffee table in front of him.
Shifting your body to look at him, you eye the small bruise forming near the outer corner of his eye. Concern washes over you, lifting your hand to touch his face, while you gently thumb over the small purple mark. “I’m so sorry he caused this.” You pout, shaking your head in disappointment. “Should you put something on it?”
Jaehyun shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.” His smile makes your knees weak, admiring his deep dimples as he looks at you. “Please don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse done to me.”
“Oh?” You knit your eyebrows together. “You get into a fight every time you like a girl?” Sarcasm drips from your words, earning an eye roll from the man in front of you.
“No,” he playfully retorts. “Please, I'm a lover not a fighter.”
“The way you threw the first punch, a part of me doubts that. Maybe…” you pause with a smile. “Maybe I just need to see the other side to make a full judgement.”
A shy smile appears on his face. “I think that can be arranged.”
His left hand snakes under your hair, pulling you into him by the back of your neck. Your lips crash into his, his soft lips moving in sync with yours. You tug on his shirt to pull him closer to your body, letting out a small whimper; too focused on how good his lips feel against yours.
You hear his front doorbell go off and you both pull away from each other. Giving him a look of concern, he quietly tells you to stay back, as he makes his way to peek through the peephole of his front door. Jaehyun’s body relaxes, turning to reassure you that it’s only his friends. He opens the door and four of his friends saunter through, spilling in one after the other — the same friends that you saw at the party tonight.
“What’re you guys doing here?” Jaehyun asks his friends, shutting the door behind him, making sure to hear the automatic lock before making his way back to you.
“Haechan made us pull over, so he could use the bathroom.” Mark points to his friend, who shyly raises his hand.
“Sorry, I didn't want to pee on the side of the road. You know, just in case I get caught and get slammed with an indecent exposure charge.” Haechan makes his way to the bathroom, already knowing where to go like he’s been here a million times before.
His two other friends, Yuta and Johnny, make their way to Jaehyun’s fridge, exploring their options for a late night snack.
“Hey,” Johnny waves at you before pulling out a take out container, smelling it to see if it was still good to eat. Yuta turns to face you, along with Mark, and they both give you a small wave — only noticing you when Jaehyun grabs your hand, tugging on it to tell you to sit back down next to him.
You hear Johnny push the microwave buttons, watching the container through the microwave’s glass door. Yuta and Mark sit on the floor across the coffee table in front of you and Jaehyun.
“Did we interrupt something?” Mark asks nonchalantly, innocently assuming that they didn’t.
“Of course we did,” Yuta laughs, playfully punching Mark in the bicep. “What part of spending the night in the text did you not understand?”
“She could really just spend the night here,” Johnny interjects before the microwave beeps, pulling out the container and grabbing a spoon to mix the leftover fried rice.
“Yeah, you did actually,” Jaehyun clears his throat. “Also, I was going to eat that tomorrow.” He turns to Johnny who is just about ready to push the silverware full of food into his mouth.
“Consider this payment for nearly getting my ass beat because you ran off with y/n.” Johnny lets out.
“I don’t think he would’ve done damage to you,” you giggle, watching the 6 foot 2 man shove food into his mouth.
“You’re being dramatic,” Yuta chimes in, shaking his head. “You threw him like he was a piece of trash.”
“He is a piece of trash,” you mutter to yourself, earning a soft nudge from Jaehyun who stifles his laughter.
Haechan joins the group, greeting you before sitting next to Mark. “What’d I miss?” He asks, looking at Johnny before standing up again to grab another spoon to eat out of the same container Johnny is eating from.
“You made us interrupt them,” Mark teases Haechan.
“What were you two doing?” Haechan wonders, furrowing his brows before taking another bite of food. “It’s not like you two were fucking, your clothes are still in tact.”
“Okay,” Jaehyun lets out, feeling uncomfortable. “You all can leave now.”
“We were about to head to bed,” you continue. “It’s been a really long night.”
His friends are more susceptible to your words than their best friend’s. Jaehyun nearly pushes them out the door while you quickly wash the used silverware, so Jaehyun doesn’t have to worry about it in the morning.
“Have fun!” Yuta shouts out before Jaehyun shuts the door.
Jaehyun pushes his hair back with his fingers, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Sorry about them,” he laughs, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “They can be a lot, sometimes.”
“I’m sure they mean well.” You smile, wiping your hands on a paper towel after placing his silverware back in their original spot. You make your way back to him, tugging on his shirt to close the gap between the two of you. “Now, where were we?”
Jaehyun smiles, placing soft pecks against your lips. “I thought you wanted to sleep?”
You slightly tilt your head. “No, I said we were about to head to bed.” You poke his abdomen, teasingly. “At this rate, we just might.”
“Maybe we should call it a night,” Jaehyun smiles, pushing your hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to.” He pulls your hand to his lips, giving your knuckles tender kisses. “I’m okay with just going to bed.”
You feel a heaviness in your heart, slight disappointment hearing Jaehyun’s words although you know he means well after finding out your lack of sexual experience earlier that night. You simply nod your head.
“If you want to remove your makeup, there's a makeup remover in the bathroom.” He leads you to the same bathroom his friend ran off to. “Before you ask, I have it because my cousin likes to stay over sometimes and she makes me keep some on hand for whenever she visits.”
You smile at him, finding it adorable as he overly explains things sometimes. It’s clear he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea about things that could potentially give off the wrong impression.
“I’ll bring you something to change into.” He leaves you alone before returning with an oversized t-shirt and a washcloth for you. “There’s also an extra toothbrush in the drawer, you can leave it in the holder for whenever you come over. I’ll be in my room. I’ll leave the door open for you.”
You wash off your makeup, brush your teeth, and change into Jaehyun’s shirt — the hem ending at the middle of your thighs. You grab your clothes and make your way to Jaehyun’s bedroom. You watch as he lays in his bed, legs dangling off the edge, unaware of your presence as he mindlessly scrolls through his phone. The hem of his shirt lifts, exposing his little v-cut that disappears into his sweatpants — clearly changing into something more comfortable while you were in the bathroom.
“Is there a place where I can put my clothes?” You ask, pulling his attention away from his phone. He sits up, eyes wandering your body before meeting your eyes again.
“Y-yeah,” he points to the hamper near his closet. You feel his eyes on you as you walk across his bedroom to the hamper, placing your clothes on top of the clothes he wore that day. “I’ll wash it tomorrow,” he adds, clearing his throat — clearly enamored by you. “So, uh, you ready to go to bed?”
You nod your head, crawling on top of Jaehyun’s king sized mattress. You take note of the dark wine colored satin sheets under you before you lay on your side, sighing in relief at the comfortable mattress under you. Jaehyun lays next to you, engulfing you into his arms with your head laying on his chest. His heartbeat is rapid at first before slowing down as he draws circles on your back.
“I can’t believe you’re here with me,” he smiles, causing you to give him a small squeeze after hearing his words.
“Thank you for everything you did tonight to keep me safe. I appreciate you so much.” You give him a peck on the cheek, your lips lingering against his skin a little longer than it should before resting your head back on his chest.
“Just know that I’d do anything to keep you safe,” he presses his cheek against the top of your head. “In fact, I’d do anything for you.”
“I appreciate that,” you sleepily sigh. “Good night, Jaehyun.”
“Good night, baby.” He whispers, tenderly kissing your forehead.
You look at the alarm clock as you rub the sleep from your eyes — 3:17 am. You search for the man you went to sleep with, only to find him gone. Stepping out of his bedroom you see the bathroom light illuminating the dark hallway from under the bathroom door.
You hear muffled groans coming from the other side of the bathroom door. Pressing your ear against the wooden door, you hear heavy breathing mixed with moans and little rasps of your name on the other side. You smile to yourself, already knowing what he’s up to.
“Jaehyun?” You call out, hearing a phone drop and a string of frantic curses. “Are you okay?”
Jaehyun opens the door, hiding the lower half of his body. “Hey, yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?” His ears turn a crimson red, letting you know he’s clearly embarrassed about something.
“Yeah, I just -” You point to his bedroom.
“Oh, I’ll be back in bed in a little bit. I have to, uh,” he stammers. “I have to finish up something here first.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Jaehyun gives you a small smile. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be back in bed in a little bit.”
“You sure?” You open the door wider. “I think my hand, or maybe even my mouth, would do a better job than your hand, don’t you think?” You watch as Jaehyun’s jaw falls open, shocked at the words that roll off your tongue.
“How did you -“
“I heard you,” you giggle softly.
“Y-you don’t have to,” he shyly retorts. “I can finish up.”
“What if I want to?” Before he could answer, you pull on the strings of his sweatpants, leading him back into his bedroom. You push him onto his bed, watching his eyes grow as you sink to your knees in front of him.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I swear, I can fin -“
You cover his mouth with the palm of your hand. “I want to, Jaehyun. Can I, please?”
Giving in, he nods his head slowly and you pull your hand away from his lips before hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants. He lifts his hips, helping you remove his bottoms. You watch his ears slowly redden, clearly shy at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. His length springs up, eager and excited. You pull his pants past his ankles before throwing it to the side.
Your eyes are locked on Jaehyun’s hardening length and his eyes are locked on the sight of you. You wrap your hand around his shaft, giving it a few pumps before licking the precum that oozed out of the tip of his slit.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun hisses.
You sink his twitching length into your mouth, the tip of your nose touching the base of his cock. You flatten your tongue against his veins, feeling the crevices of his shaft. You suck on the tip of his dick, giving it a little pop at the end. Jaehyun throws his head back, feeling satisfaction running through his body. You stroke his long length, allowing a pool of your spit to fall onto his tip before spreading it against his cock — his entire length glistens with your saliva. You bob your head up and down against his growing erection. Swirling your tongue against his cock’s head, he lets out a deep groan at the pleasure shooting through his body.
“Oh god, just like that.” Jaehyun rasps, his hands desperately finding something to hold on to only to settle for the satin sheets underneath him. “Fuck, you’re so good at this.”
Smiling at his praise, you flick your tongue against his slit, licking up the continuing precum that leaks out, before picking up the pace and slobbering all over his cock. His dick throbs as you look up at him, your drool dripping down your chin. You continue to stroke him, speeding up your movements before slowing it down again, occasionally gagging on it that usually earns a deep growl from the man in front of you.
“Jaehyun?” You breathe. “F-fuck my face, please.”
Jaehyun’s eyes widened, pupils dilated for you. “Y-you sure?”
You flatten your tongue with the head of his cock resting on top. Nodding your head, you bat your lashes up at him, innocently.
Jaehyun’s hand rests on the top of your head, holding you in place. He thrusts his hips into you, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. The room fills with the sound of gags and the slick sound of his cock sliding against your warm saliva. Jaehyun pulls his hips back, causing you to pant and gasp for air before thrusting into your mouth once again. You peer up at him through wet lashes, tears falling out of the corner of your eyes — Jaehyun is too engrossed in his pleasure to notice. He tries his hardest to muffle his pleasure, only to have a deep frustrated groan escape his lips as his fingers entangle themselves in the roots of your hair.
“I’m so close,” his voice quivers, cheeks flushed with heat as he looks down at you, flustered at the sight of his cock down your throat.
Pulling your head back, you gasp to catch your breath. Your fingers wrap around his thick length, making your fingers look dainty against his engorged shaft. “Come in my mouth, okay?” Your hand slicks up and down. “I want to taste you.”
Without hesitation, Jaehyun does as you ask. You shove him back into your mouth and he grips your hair tighter. Bucking his hips forward, he focuses on the warmth of your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, earning a deep growl from Jaehyun. Picking up his pace, he slams his hips into you, forgetting about his hesitation earlier tonight.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He shouts before his release shoots into the back of your throat. Grabbing a hold of his thighs, you push yourself further down his shaft, feeling his cock twitch at your movement. His hot, creamy ropes slip down your throat without a struggle before you milk his cock, your lips wrapping tightly around him before popping his tip out of your mouth.
Jaehyun collapses onto his bed, his chest heaving up and down in an attempt to catch his breath. Quickly sitting up, he pushes his hair back before a satisfied grin is plastered across his face. “That was amazing,” he huffs. “God, you definitely know how to make a man feel good.” He tugs on your arm, and you make your way towards him, positioning yourself between his legs while sitting on your knees. You look up at him, eyes glistening with affection for the man in front of you. Lifting your chin to meet your eyes, you smile at him, causing his heart to immensely flutter.
“Thank you, I’m glad I could help you.” You softly press your lips against his.
“Can I do the same for you?” Jaehyun breathily asks, pulling away from your kiss. “I mean, only if you want to.”
Excitement bubbles inside you as you timidly nod.
Jaehyun helps you off the floor and watches as you climb onto his bed, positioning yourself on your back, thighs shut together. Jaehyun climbs on top of you, his large hand gently stroking the skin of your thighs before guiding them open.
“I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He places a gentle kiss on your cheek. “If anything feels like it’s too much, tell me okay?”
His words are reassuring and you smile upon feeling his soft lips against your skin. “I will.”
Jaehyun lifts the shirt you’re wearing over your chest, exposing your bare breasts. His lips slightly part at the sight of you, before he slowly licks his lips. Tracing his tongue against the skin of your breast, he gently takes your perky nipple into his mouth.
A quiet whimper escapes your lips at the feeling of his tongue rolling over your sensitive bud. Your hand cups the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His free hand rubs the side of your waist, his touch so sensual that you feel arousal building up in your core.
Switching between breasts, Jaehyun playfully nips around the skin around your chest. He slides his tongue over your nipple before dragging the tip of his tongue upwards and sucking your skin, leaving a mark. Jaehyun begins to move south, trailing kisses down your chest, to your abdomen, and stops right above the waistband of your underwear. “May I?” He begs, looking at you for approval.
“Y-yes,” you quietly let out. “Please.”
Jaehyun hooks his index finger onto your waistband and you lift your hips to help him pull off your undergarment. Closing your thighs shyly, you feel a rush of heat run through your body. Your heart beats quickly, nervous for your first time. Fully convinced Jaehyun could hear the thumping of your heart against your chest, you attempt to relax, focusing on Jaehyun’s touch — his rubbing of your thighs and the tender kisses against your knees. It’s obvious you’re nervous and Jaehyun could tell, but rather than pointing it out, he tries to help you relax, taking everything slowly and at your pace.
You slowly spread your thighs apart, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner against your heat. Jaehyun suppresses the urge to devour you like a starved dog. He sinks to your core and you feel his hot breath against your skin. “Just relax, baby.” He breathes. “I’ll be gentle.”
His fingers part your folds, his tongue slowly grazes your clit, and a tiny whimper escapes. Flicking his tongue against you, he returns to your slit, running the tip of his tongue up and down. He dips his tongue into your hole causing the muscles in your thighs to tighten at the feeling. Your fingers are desperately digging into the sheets under you, overwhelmed by this foreign sensation of pleasure. Fully making out with your pretty heat, a string of gasps and whimpers fill the room. You feel Jaehyun focus on your sensitive nub — flicking, licking, and sucking it to his heart’s content. Working his saliva with his tongue against your slit, you can’t help but rock your hips against him. Jaehyun looks up at you, his tongue glued to your pussy as he watches you, eyes filling with lust. Your walls eagerly flutter, wanting so desperately to fill your cunt with Jaehyun’s cock. His tongue massages your sensitive pearl, encouraged by your fingers running through his hair, praising him for the work he’s doing.
“F-feels so good,” you coo. “Keep going, please.”
Jaehyun hums against you, his eyes closing to focus on your taste — something he’s been dying to know for a long time now. He continues to suck on your clit in a steady pace, slowly inching you closer and closer to ecstasy. You feel your arousal leak out of you, mixing with the warm spit Jaehyun drools as he eats you out. Your back begins to arch from the pleasure, thighs involuntarily closing before Jaehyun forces them apart once more. You feel your eyes roll back from the pleasure.
“Jae -“ you croak, your voice hitching as you cry out. “I -“ You’re unable to finish your sentence as you reach your peak, riding it out using his tongue.
Jaehyun slows down his movements, watching your chest rise and fall as you pant, catching your breath. He beams, your juices glistening against your lips and chin. Without a second thought, you pull him down to meet your lips, licking over his plumped lips and swirling your tongue over his, tasting your own wetness.
“Was that okay?” He asks, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he focuses on your voice.
You lazily smile. “It was perfect, thank you.” You kiss him again, feeling his hands glide against your soft skin.
Jaehyun lays on his side next to you. You pull down the shirt you’re wearing and turn to your side to face Jaehyun, playing with the gold chain necklace that languidly hangs around his neck.
“Have you ever been fingered before?” Jaehyun asks, stroking your hair with one hand while resting his head on the other. “Was that too forward to ask?”
You shake your head, giggling at his question. “Aside from masturbation, I haven’t.”
“Would you like someone to?”
“Are you offering?”
He nods his head, pulling you into a kiss. “Like I said, I’d do anything for you.”
Without hesitation, you swing your leg over his thigh, giving him access to your tender flesh.
Jaehyun rubs your thigh before moving his hand to your ass, giving it a nice squeeze. “Stick your tongue out,” He orders.
You do as he says, trusting whatever he has in mind.
He bites down on his bottom lip as he brings his middle finger into your tongue. “Suck it.”
You hollow out your cheeks, rolling your tongue over his finger as he pumps his digit in and out of your mouth. You make sure to thoroughly cover his finger with your warm spit.
“You’re a good girl,” he coos, his eyes fixated on you and your actions. “Such a good fucking girl. You deserve everything.”
Your skin prickles at his words, feeling your core nearly leak from arousal.
Jaehyun slowly pulls his finger out of your mouth before gently massaging it against your clit. “You’re so wet,” Jaehyun purrs. “Ready for me, aren’t you?”
You bashfully smile at him, your eyes diverting away from him in embarrassment, causing him to smirk at your reaction.
“If it gets to be too much, just let me know and I’ll stop.” He presses a kiss on your forehead in which you nod in agreement. Jaehyun slowly dips into your entrance, feeling your walls tighten around his finger. “Relax, baby.” He soothes.
You do just that, enjoying his finger sinking into you inch by inch. Jaehyun pumps into you, slowly at first before curling his finger — hitting your g-spot. You hold back your moan, biting down on your lip.
“Don’t be shy,” Jaehyun chuckles. “Let me hear you.”
You bury your face into his chest, enjoying his rhythmic movements that occasionally hit that sensitive spot inside of you. “One more,” you mumble.
“I can’t hear you, baby.”
You lift your head, eyes glazed over. “One more, please.”
Jaehyun captures your lips with his before filling you up with another finger. It takes you a second to adjust to the stretch, moaning against his mouth.
You fall onto your back with Jaehyun falling with you before his unoccupied hand is plastered near the side of your head, propping himself over you. You take in the sight of his dangling necklace and the mischievous smirk he has plastered on his face. Cupping his cheek, you run your thumb over the small bruise left from the party.
“You’re so good to me,” you whisper, lifting your head to meet his lips.
He kisses the palm of your hand before picking up the pace of his fingers. The lewd sounds your cunt makes against his fingers fills the room and with his fingers penetrating deeply into you, you feel an intense sensation of bliss run through your entire body.
“Harder,” you whine, back slightly arching from his movements.
He does as you say, his fingers pumping in and out of you harshly. Jaehyun sits on his knees, his free hand holding your abdomen down as he jackhammers his fingers inside of you, recklessly.
Your jaw falls open and the muscles in your body tightens. “D-don’t s-stop, please!” You sputter. You bite down on your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. “Gonna come,” you cry out.
Jaehyun’s moves don’t falter. His grunts as he moves inside of you nearly sends you over the edge.
You grab his hand placed on your tummy, guiding it to the base of your neck. His hand tightens his grip, your eyes rolling back at the shockwaves being sent through your body. “I’m gonna,” you fumble your words. Choked out sobs leave your lips and your mind goes hazy with stars in your line of vision as you release against his fingers.
Jaehyun slows his movements, slowly pulling his fingers out of you before licking your wetness off with his tongue.
Your hand wraps around his wrist that’s pressed against the base of your neck; your body trying to come down from the high he sent you for the second time that night. You stick your tongue out and he places his fingers in your mouth, you tasting yourself against his digits.
Lifting his hand from your neck, he soothes your trembling body by rubbing his hands and peppering kisses against your skin.
“I want you, Jaehyun,” you confess, running your fingers against the back of his undercut. “I want all of you inside of me.”
Jaehyun’s expression shifts. “A-are you s-sure?” He stutters, completely shocked at your words. “We don’t have to, I don’t want you to feel like you need to d-“
“I’m sure. I trust you.”
A warm smile appears before he plants a deep and sensual kiss on your lips. Your words mean the entire world to him. “If you want me to stop at any time, tell me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious, even in the middle of it. If you want to stop, I will.”
You giggle. “Okay,” you repeat.
Jaehyun lifts your shirt over your head before throwing it onto the floor before he does the same with the shirt he has on.
You watch as Jaehyun strokes his cock, its length growing quickly as he stares at your bare body. “Could we take it slow? Since it’s my first time.”
“Yes, of course.”
You thank him before helping him stroke his shaft. Allowing you to help with his erection, he uses this opportunity to leave more marks against your skin. Rolling his tongue over your breast, breathy sighs escape while you enjoy his tongue’s warmth.
Jaehyun positions himself against his headboard. “Come here,” he orders, patting his bare thigh.
You place a knee on each side of his thigh, carefully aligning the tip of his erection with your excited entrance.
“Take your time, baby.” Jaehyun whispers, cupping your jaw with his hands. “Take it slow.” He plants his hands on your hips, supporting you in any way you need it.
You sink onto his tip, slowly, feeling him stretch out your tight entrance. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you watch as Jaehyun throws his head against his headboard, trying his hardest not to buck himself into you. “You’re so big,” you whimper, slowly rolling your hips against him to accommodate his size.
“You’re doing a great job.” He kisses your neck. “Keep doing what you’re doing, honey.” His hot breath is felt against your skin before you feel a small, gentle bite on your shoulder, sending tingles through you.
As you finally take all of him into you, you let out a satisfied moan as you warm Jaehyun’s cock between your gummy walls. You roll your tongue over his lips before he parts it, allowing you access to his tongue.
Jaehyun’s arms wrap around your body, holding you tightly as he sensually makes out with you.
Slinging your arms around his shoulders, you begin to roll your hips against him, earning a moan from Jaehyun against your lips and causing the corner of your lips to lift into a smile. “You wanna show me how a real man should fuck me?”
Jaehyun groans deeply, eyes darkening after hearing your words. In one swift move, you’re on your back with Jaehyun hovering over you. Slowly thrusting his hips into you, your moans bounce off the walls of his bedroom. Your walls pulse against him as he moves inside of you.
“Faster,” you breathe.
Jaehyun follows through, picking up his pace. His hips are erratic, jerking back and forth, hungrily chasing your pretty cunt.
Your arms lazily sling over his shoulder, biting down onto his skin as electricity runs through you. Your legs lock around him, desperately keeping him close to you.
“Does that feel okay?” He asks, panting against your ear. His breath tickles you, causing you to giggle in response.
You hum at his question. “It feels so good, I don’t want you to stop.”
“Good.” You feel him kiss your temple before he thrusts into you roughly. “Is that okay?” You didn’t have to see him to know a smirk is plastered across his face.
“Again,” you plead. “Harder.”
Jaehyun does as you ask, snapping his hips into you harshly. The sound of skin slapping skin is heard along with profanities mixed with his name. His pace is brutal — his hips recklessly slapping into you with no remorse. He pins your arms down to your side, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head while your back arches from the pleasure he’s giving you. Your mouth falls open and sweat glistens against your forehead.
“You take me so well,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Fuck, you feel so damn good.” He snakes his hand to the base of your neck, biting down on his bottom lip while his free hand presses against your stomach, feeling a slight bulge as he penetrates deep into you. He smiles at the feeling.
“Feel this,” he guides your hand to where his hand previously was. “Look how selfish your pussy is, taking me in like this.”
You feel the bulge he’s referring to, causing you to go dizzy — unable to comprehend how amazing you feel right now.
You cry out his name, begging him for more.
Appreciating how loud you’re being, he does as you ask. You’re incredibly intoxicated with the feeling of pleasure he’s giving you. The lewd sounds that’s heard as he shoves himself into you without hesitation add to your ecstasy.
Jaehyun pushes your knees against your chest and you tilt your hips up, attempting to grab a pillow to slide under your back. Noting your actions, he pulls himself out of you before sliding a pillow under your lower back to prop your heat up for easier access. Pushing your knees to your chest once again, you help guide his cock to your entrance, gasping as he deeply buries himself into you.
The position you’re in gives him the perfect opportunity to hit that sensitive spot inside you and he does. He plunges himself into you, hips striking your ass in a merciless rhythm as his tip kisses your g-spot. Jaehyun’s jaw drops at your pulsating walls massaging his shaft inside of you.
“Baby, I’m coming!” You cry out, nearly sobbing from the pleasure you're receiving. Your toes curl, your back arches, and your nails dig into the sheets beneath you. Pure bliss is written all over your face.
He watches as he pushes in and out of you, white rings of your orgasm lingering on his shaft.
Completely and utterly intoxicated off his cock, you slur your words together — “I love you,” you mumble over and over again as if it’s a ritual chant as your eyes are closed and you’re too focused on the feeling of passion washing over you.
A spark boils in the pit of Jaehyun’s stomach after hearing your chants. He spreads your thighs apart, hovering over you once again. His movements slow down and your eyes flutter open. “Say it again,” he whispers, lazily rolling his hips. “Please.”
You pull him down to your lips, tenderly kissing him. “I love you,” you whisper in the space between your lips and repeat it after every deep thrust he penetrates into you. He tightens his grip around you, the pressure of his fingers are sure to leave marks on your skin.
“I’m gonna come,” he muffles against the crook of your neck.
“Inside,” you order softly. “I want it inside of me.”
You feel his velvety ropes release into you, flooding you. Your walls clench around him, feeling him twitch. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you lock him in place to make sure he fully empties himself into you. Releasing your grip on him, he collapses on top of you, panting in an attempt to catch his breath.
“We should get you in the shower.” His words are muffled against your skin, his eyes shutting as he enjoys your fingers stroking his hair.
“In a second,” you lazily reply, enjoying the moment with Jaehyun.
“Are you okay?” He lifts his head to look at you, strands of his hair stuck to his forehead. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, no,” you reassure. “It was great. Thank you for being gentle,” you pause for a second. “In the beginning.”
Jaehyun bashfully smiles at your response.
A few minutes pass and you both finally get cleaned up in his attached bathroom. As you finally finish washing up, you throw on the same shirt you wore earlier and you both finally head to bed.
Your eyes flutter open, Jaehyun’s arm slinging over your stomach as he peacefully sleeps. Carefully turning to face him, you bring your hand to his hair, gently pushing it back. You watch his eyes leisurely open, smiling when seeing you next to him.
“Wow,” he sleepily grins. “You’re a sight to wake up to.”
You giggle. “Good morning.”
“How’re you feeling after last night?”
“A little sore down there, but nothing I can’t handle. How are you feeling?”
“Great,” he chuckles. He turns over to reach for his phone, checking for the time. “Should we go out for breakfast or do you feel like cooking something here?”
You ponder his question for a moment. “Considering Johnny ate what you were supposed to eat for breakfast, maybe we should go out or at least order something.”
“Good point,” Jaehyun laughs. “We should probably get ready, huh?”
You bite your bottom lip, your fingers teasingly play with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Maybe in a little bit.” A smirk tugs on your lips. “I think I have an idea of what I want right now.” You pull back his waistband before releasing, allowing it to slap against his skin.
Jaehyun arches his brow. “Oh?” He smiles, sitting up in bed. “In that case,” he tugs on your shirt, urging you to take it off. “Maybe we should have breakfast in bed.” He helps lift your shirt over your head and allows it to fall next to his bed.
Before anything could happen, Jaehyun’s bedroom door flies open without warning. You and Jaehyun quickly grab his blanket to cover your bare body as your attention turns to his friend from last night.
“Where the hell do you keep your aspirin?” Haechan grumbles, hair disheveled as his fingers rub his temples. “I have the worst hangover.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jaehyun uses his body to shield you even further. “When the hell did you get here?”
“Shh,” Haechan hisses. “Why are you yelling?”
“I think there’s some aspirin in Jaehyun’s bathroom,” you let out.
Haechan doesn’t bat an eye at the sight of you, his only mission is to get rid of his throbbing headache. He disappears into Jaehyun’s attached bathroom before leaving his bedroom and shutting his door on the way out.
Jaehyun grabs your shirt off the floor, handing it to you and you quickly search for the underwear you never bothered to put back on after having sex. Jaehyun tosses you your underwear and you quickly put them on before you both follow Haechan out to the living room. To both of your surprise, you see the same friends from last night.
“What are you guys doing here?” Jaehyun asks, looking at his friends casually watching tv and drinking coffee on his living room floor.
“We couldn’t go home,” Yuta lets out, taking a sip out of his coffee cup. “Mark forgot our house keys.”
“I said I was sorry!” Mark fusses, shaking his head in disappointment.
“And Doyoung wouldn’t let us in, saying something about having us think about our actions at the party or whatever.” Johnny adds, rolling his eyes. “To be fair, I think he had someone over, too.”
“You couldn’t go to Jungwoo’s place?” Jaehyun questions.
“We've been banned from staying overnight since the last time, remember?” Mark reminds Jaehyun.
“And Taeyong is out of town,” Haechan adds, throwing his sunglasses on to lessen the pain he’s feeling.
“He was also smart enough not to give us a spare key to his place.” Yuta laughs. “You did though, so now we’re here.”
“When did you guys even get here?” Jaehyun asks, watching you make an iced coffee with the cold brew he had in his refrigerator.
His friends smile at each other. “Last night. We were going to let you know but we didn’t want to disturb you.” Mark lifts his brows, watching Jaehyun flush at his words.
“How much did you hear?” You ask, taking a sip of your coffee before you let Jaehyun take a sip as well.
“Everything.” The four boys reply in unison.
You freeze.
“I guess you weren’t just staying the night, huh?” Johnny smirks, causing you to shyly turn away.
“Alright,” Jaehyun playfully rolls his eyes, rubbing your arm in comfort. “Who has the spare key?”
Mark tosses his key to Jaehyun who swiftly catches it with his free hand. He hands the key to you, subtly telling you to keep it.
“I should’ve listened to Taeyong the first time.” He lets out, taking another sip of the coffee you made.
“It’s okay,” Haechan chuckles. “We all made an extra copy.”
con't -> hi, jiji back! today is a special day! today makes 1 year since i released my first fic (link up above) & so to commemorate that, i've brought to u a part 2, yay! hope u can all enjoy this one, as well as enjoy your Christmas for those of u who celebrate! love u all <33
12. 26
Fuck.
What time is it?
1 a.m? 2 a.m? 5 a.m?
How long have we been going at it?
It’s the morning after Christmas, the morning after your long-termed boyfriend, Jaehyun, asked you to marry him. It was a joyous occasion, so joyous that you two had to celebrate back here in the suite he managed to book.
When you arrived it was lit up by a fake-candled pathway and rose petals that were scattered that led to the massive bedroom. In there awaited balloons, a rose-petaled heart on the bed, and balloons with your and his initial. It was sort of cliche, but cute.
Yet the cute set-up didn’t last long, you were glad you were able to manage to snap a picture before he had you on the bed, in whatever position he desired.
Honestly, you two were going at it like a pair of animals in heat. No compliments though, you loved it when this side of Jaehyun popped out, a 180 from his innocent and gentle facade.
And now he had you where he wanted you all night. Your sweet, sensitive cunt against his mouth, and his–still–hardened member touching your soft lips.
You kissed along his shaft, using one of your hands to rub his leaking tip. You spread his cum along his cock before licking it right off. He groaned against your pussy lips, darting his tongue out to tease your pulsing hole.
Your own tongue worked its way along his cock, to his leaking tip. You swirl your tongue around it, using the tip of your tongue to lick along his tip’s slit. The sensation of his moans vibrating against your clit.
He bit on your clit gently before tugging on it with only his lips. After playing and teasing your clit, he lets go, working his lips to kiss down your pussy lips. When they’ve arrived at their desired destination, he uses his thumbs to open your lips right up. Jaehyun licks his lips as he’s about to devour you; devour your sweet juices.
When you begin to sink down his cock, your eyes begin to water. You try breathing, inhaling oxygen as you take him in more and more. You could feel as his tip reached the back of your throat, an indication you need an inch or two more before he’s fully within you.
Your moans against his cock don’t stop during this whole ordeal when you feel his tongue dive inside you. You could feel as it presses against your gummy walls in an attempt to stretch you out, only for you to squeeze right back up.
Once you feel he’s all in, you take a couple seconds to a minute accommodating before you start bobbing your head along his cock. You keep it slow and steady, wanting to savor the moment.
Yet on the other hand, Jaehyun wanted you to cum all over him now. He wanted a taste of you, he was a thirsty man, growing dehydrated. And a simple cure of your juices to save him from dying.
He works his tongue faster inside you, slurping and squelching noises bouncing off the walls as he devours you. Though to your surprise, he takes his tongue out leaving you to whine against his shaft.
“Go faster on me baby, if not I’m not letting ya’ cum,” he says in a sultry tone.
You wasted no time, you worked your mouth faster against his shaft, managing to pick up on the small “good girl” comment Jaehyun said before he dove back inside. He worked faster, each stroke against your walls better than the one before. He teased you cunt inside, and managed to use a finger to rub your clit.
You don’t even notice as you begin grinding against his face, wanting his tongue to delve in deeper and deeper. You could feel it, feel as if you're about to gush against him face.
You pick up your pace too, bringing your hands into the mix to fondle his balls before helping your mouth move along his shaft. As you alternate between the two, you feel him twitch inside you, indicating he was about to cum as well.
You two worked your ways faster and faster, bringing one another closer and closer to each other’s highs. And with a pinch to your clit and swirling of your tongue along his tip, you two came. Your sweet juices adorning the entirety of Jaehyun’s face, and his cum coating the insides of your mouth a pretty white.
You made sure all of his cum was inside you, even the bit that managed to slip past your lips, before you swallowed it. Feeling satisfied.
He, too, felt satisfied as he licked up every drop. Jaehyun can’t contain the noises coming out of his mouth as he gets a taste of you more and more. Your pussy was just too perfect, made just for him. And as he finishes getting the last drops, you shift positions.
“Scoot up a bit Jaehyun, against the headboard,” you say, breathlessly.
He doesn’t hesitate, moving all the way back until he hits the headboard. And he watches and you crawl to him, so hot. He wouldn’t dare tear his eyes off you. He watches as you get place your legs on either side of him.
“Could you go a little further down?” you asked.
And he does until his head hits the headboard. Perfect, you thought.
You shift downward a bit as well, until his cock rubs along your cunt. You throw your head back, a moan escaping your lips as you continue grinding yourself on his cock. You wait for it to harden before grabbing another condom to slip on his cock. Rubbing yourself once more to coat him, you lift yourself up a bit before sinking right onto his cock.
“Shit, feels so good baby,” Jaehyun groans as he feels your cunt on him again.
When he’s all in, you move up and down on his cock. Your hands resting on his chest as a means of guidance as you continue moving inside him. You bite your lips as you feel it kiss your g-spot with every thrust. Yet, you couldn’t keep up with this pace for long. Your moves slowed and Jaehyun noticed it too.
“Need some help baby?” he says as he grips onto your hips, ready to control.
You don’t respond, nodding your head as you lay down onto his chest. “Don’t worry I got you,” he whispers into your ear before gripping onto your ass so he could slide out before thrusting himself back in.
“Oh god!” you moaned in delight.
Jaehyun thrusts into you at an inhuman pace, his stamina still strong. The slapping of skin echoing in the room, mushing together with your moans. Your back aches and arms wrap around him as he fucks himself into you.
“S- Stop,” you moan, capturing his attention. He locks eyes with you, faces only centimeters apart. His thrusting slowed and you take the opportunity to lift yourself back up. Jaeyun joins you, eyes not breaking from yours.
“To- Together,” you say before helping in fucking yourself onto his cock as he tried doing the same. He admires you, taking you in and taking in the way your tits bounced with every thrust. He bows his head down, taking one of your tits into his mouth. He licks your nipple, sucking on it before turning his attention to your bud.
You clench around him, moans turning into pants as you continued fucking yourself on him. And once he lets go of your tit with a pop, focusing on your mouth next. He kisses you with much desire and lust, fighting his tongue with yours before parting from you the same time he feels himself reaching.
“Cum together?” he asks in more of a whisper.
“Y-Yes,” you softly moaned.
And with one rough thrust from Jaehyun’s side you both came, collapsing into him. He holds you close, holds you tight almost as if someone would take you away. And just then Jaehyun gets you on your stomach, lifting your hips up so your ass is sticking in the air.
The cool air replaces where his cock was before, and you hear the ripping of another condom. Jaehyun rubs his cock on your ass, placing both hands on your hips as he then sinks his cock inside you again.
You were still sensitive from your other orgasm, and the many from before, that you almost came right then and there. You hold off for a while longer, mind going crazy from the way Jaehyun’s cock kissed your cervix.
“How do you always feel so good,” Jaehyun says, loving the way you're still pulsating around him.
His hands touch the skin of your ass, groping the flesh before slapping it with his hands. You arch your back even more, clenching like crazy around him.
Slap. Slap. Slap
“My sweet girl loves getting her ass slapped, right? Loves it when she gets treated like a slut?”
“Y-Yes! Oh, fuck, yes Jae- your… your slut, only yours,” you moan, words unable to formulate in your brain with every rough thrust he gives to you.
You’re nearly knocked out, seeing stars in your eyes. You lose control over your body, feeling as it lets go around his cock for another time tonight. You cum with incoherent phrases, curse words flying through the air as Jaehyun gives you yet another satisfying release.
Jaehyun doesn’t stop as you cum on him, he fucks you through it as he wants to meet his own high. Yet lucky him, with the view in front of him: your back arching beautifully, ass red with his hand prints, and the mutters of his name coming from your mouth, he cums into the condom once more.
He takes his cock out, slipping the condom off and tying it before tossing it to the bin beside the bed. He turns to find the box of condoms gone, the whole pack. He mutters a small, “fuck” under his breath. He truly was a wild animal, a predator.
As he then turns to you he sees you passed out, exhausted from tonight– the night he passionately devoured you. A dimpled-smile touches his lips as he inches towards you. He gently moves your body to lay against his. He admires your beauty, how was it that you glowed even more now?
You were his favorite everything– person, place, song, smile, laugh, color, flower, food, hobby, the list goes on. And to think he’d now be able to spend the rest of his life with you, together until you two are grey and old, feels like a dream come true. You were always going to be his lover, in this life, his past life, and the next life.
His hand takes a hold of yours, he sees as the diamond ring, the engagement ring, illuminates through the night light. He kisses your ring, eyes coming to shut. And before they manage to close he whispers…
final a.n: merry christmas! now that a year has passed, i can't wait for what the future has in store for this blog <33. thank u for giving me the strength to write, i love u all so dearly <33
genre - angst, smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love
synopsis — during an away game weekend at a motel, tensions rise sharply between mark and jeno, exacerbated by the close quarters and competitive atmosphere. meanwhile, your connection with mark deepens significantly. amidst the growing rivalry, you and mark find solace in each other’s company, leading to a night spent alone together in the motel, further complicating the dynamics of the trip.
chapter contents/warnings — college au, small town vibes, 2000s teen show vibes, this fic is heavily based on one tree hill, explicit sexual content, explicit dirty talk, spanking, biting, breath play, consensual choking and slapping, praise kink, oral sex received. fingering, a dominant mark and submissive reader dynamic, use of endearments such as ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’, grinding!!!! they’re obsessed with it, dry grinding and dry humping, mark orders reader to strip down, but mark will only let reader remove his clothing in exchange for personal facts about the you, he wants to know about you!! big cock mark agenda, reader gets so overwhelmed and turned on by the size, yet struggling to accommodate him, it takes a few repeated attempts to get his cock fully inside of you, a display of mark’s patience and softness, he goes a lot soft dom here when he’s really a hard dom but he goes softer for you!!! explicit language, slow burn, emotional (and sexual) tension between reader and mark, basketball is a heavy theme, mark being a key player, reader struggles with communication and vulnerability, toxic sibling rivalry between jeno and mark, soft mark, emo boy mark, confident mark, understated and hot mark, competitive sports tension. mark and jeno fighting again, they kinda bond (?) but it’s slow burn and they’re gonna be very off and on, jeno is very off and on with how he acts and how genuine he is, hints of jealous karina, creepy motel vibes, oh and guess who you meet… jeno and mark’s dad!! hehe
[fic ml]
ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN
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The morning sun was still hanging low in the sky, casting a pale, golden glow across the university campus. The air was cool and crisp, the kind that hinted at the early stages of fall, where the chill settled into your skin but wasn’t enough to make you uncomfortable. The campus was buzzing with a chaotic energy—players from the basketball team hauling their bags, some slung over their shoulders, others dragging them across the pavement as they exchanged jokes and playful shoves. Cheerleaders were gathered in small groups, some adjusting their ponytails while others scrolled absentmindedly through their phones, their bags packed with uniforms and pom-poms, ready for the weekend away.
Parked in the lot were two large coaches, engines humming softly, filling the air with that distinct scent of diesel and excitement. Coach Suh was already barking orders, his usual gruff tone laced with impatience as he directed the team and checked his clipboard. His assistant coaches stood nearby, chatting with some of the teachers who would be chaperoning the trip, their voices blending with the surrounding noise. The whole scene was one of anticipation—the players buzzing about the away game, the cheerleaders giggling as they gossiped, the distant sound of music filtering from someone’s speaker in the crowd.
You and Karina walked arm in arm through the bustling crowd, her voice slicing through the noise as she vented about something trivial—the usual drama, this time involving Winter. You weren’t paying much attention, your mind somewhere else. It had been a week since you and Jeno broke up, and while you told yourself you were getting over it, a tight knot of anxiety still sat heavy in your chest. A week since everything changed. A week since that kiss with Mark, a moment you couldn’t stop replaying in your head. Now, you were about to spend a whole weekend with both of them, and the thought made your nerves fray at the edges. You weren’t sure if you were ready for this.
“Rina, stop being rude,” you mumbled, barely paying attention as she continued her rant, huffing dramatically when you two bumped into Winter. Karina immediately switched gears, blowing her a playful kiss before wrapping her in a tight hug. But you were already distracted, your focus shifting as your eyes caught sight of Mark in the distance.
He was standing alone, leaning against his bag, earbuds in, completely lost in his own world. His hair was slightly tousled, messy in that careless way that always suited him, and he was wearing black glasses—ones you hadn’t seen him in before, which made something flutter faintly in your chest. The soft sunlight caught on his frame, making the whole scene look like something out of a movie.
“Hold on a sec,” you murmured, cutting Karina off mid-sentence. She looked at you, raising an eyebrow as she watched you slip away from her side, curiosity evident on her face.
You made your way over to where Mark was standing, weaving through the scattered clusters of students, your heart thudding slightly harder in your chest. He hadn’t noticed you yet, his music too loud, and his eyes half-closed, like he was lost in thought.
“Mark,” you said, raising your voice slightly as you gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder.
He blinked, startled out of his reverie, and when he turned around, a small, soft smile immediately graced his lips. He pulled one earbud out, his eyes brightening at the sight of you. “Hey,” he greeted casually, as though it hadn’t been a week since you last spoke. As if that kiss had never happened.
“Hey,” you echoed, feeling suddenly awkward. Your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your bag as you searched for the right words. “Um, I just wanted to thank you, you know… for that night. It—it really meant a lot.”
His smile widened a fraction, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. With slightly trembling fingers, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package—a record you had made just for him. The case was simple, but you had taken the time to customize it—his name written in a looping script across the front, surrounded by small doodles of guitars and basketballs. You had put more effort into it than you’d ever admit, each stroke of ink a small way of thanking him without having to say the words.
Mark’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his lips parting slightly as he took the package from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. “Does this mean we’re dating now?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he examined the record.
Your cheeks flushed immediately. “No,” you mumbled, trying to keep your cool. “I just had a lot of free time, and you have a long journey ahead, so… don’t read too much into it.”
But Mark wasn’t buying it, his smirk only deepening as he glanced back up at you. “Sure. Free time.”
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jeno standing near one of the other coaches, deep in conversation with one of his and Mark’s mutual friends. They were laughing about something, completely oblivious to you and Mark’s interaction, and yet, the sight of him still made your stomach flip in that uncomfortable way it had been doing for the past week.
Mark noticed your distraction but didn’t say anything. He just tucked the record into his bag with a quiet, “Thanks, Y/N,” before offering you a soft, genuine smile.
You gave him a small nod, a sense of relief washing over you, but before you could say anything else, Karina’s voice rang out from across the lot, calling your name.
“I should go,” you said quickly, backing away a few steps. “See you on the bus.”
Mark waved, popping his earbud back in as he leaned against his bag again, slipping back into his own world as if nothing had happened. But you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted, something small and unspoken, lingering in the space between you.
When you returned to Karina’s side, she was giving you a look that was half suspicion, half curiosity. “What was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with intrigue.
“Nothing,” you said quickly, though the heat rising to your cheeks probably gave you away. “Just thanked him for something.”
Karina’s eyes narrowed, a knowing smirk tugging at the edges of her lips. “You don’t like him, do you?”
“Karina, stop overreacting,” you muttered, trying to brush her off, but you could feel her gaze piercing into you.
“Good,” she said, with a casual shrug. “Because I still wanna have sex with him.”
Your heart lurched, and you tried to keep your expression neutral. “Okay,” you said, voice steady, though your mind was spinning. You couldn’t judge her—not when you felt the same. But there was no way you were going to tell her about the kiss. That would only lead to more problems.
The two of you finally boarded the bus, finding your seats among the other cheerleaders and players. As you settled in, you let out a small sigh, the weight of the day’s tension settling on your shoulders. It was going to be a long weekend. You could feel it in the air. But as the bus started moving, the sound of the engine humming beneath you, you couldn’t help but wonder—what was going to happen between you, Mark, and Jeno? The tension between all three of you was still there, unresolved, waiting to bubble over.
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The gym buzzed with life, the clamor of shoes squeaking against the polished wooden floor, the rhythmic bounce of basketballs, and the murmur of the audience creating a palpable energy. It felt like the air was thick with anticipation, the overhead fluorescent lights harsh and bright, casting long shadows on the floor as the two teams warmed up. The scent of sweat and rubber mingled with the faint aroma of cheap popcorn from the concession stands. On the far side, the home bleachers were packed with students, most clad in blue jerseys, their school colors proudly worn across their bodies like armor. The cheerleaders were stationed by the sidelines, their outfits hugging their curves, shimmering pom-poms ready in hand.
You were in the thick of it, standing with Karina at the edge of the court, arms raised with your pom-poms, shaking them rhythmically as you moved through the choreographed routines. Your cheerleading uniform was snug, the blue pleats of your skirt fluttering as you danced, and your crop top clung to your skin, showing just enough midriff to catch the eyes of anyone paying attention. The crowd was electric, and the boys were on fire tonight, especially Mark and Jeno—though they were in their own worlds, not even acknowledging each other.
Karina’s voice, hushed yet teasing, pulled you from the daze of the game. “Oh my God, Mark looks so hot in blue. We should both fuck him.”
You choked on a laugh, whipping your head toward her. “We?”
“Yeah, at the same time. Threesome.” She shrugged like it was the most natural suggestion in the world.
“Please, shut up,” you hissed through a grin, unable to suppress the giggle bubbling at your throat. You shook your pom-poms in sync with the rest of the girls, trying to keep your focus on the game, but Karina’s persistent teasing kept your mind elsewhere.
“What? You need a little rebound action unless—” Her voice dropped, her gaze flicking toward the court where Jeno sprinted past. “Unless you’re still into Jeno.”
“I’m not,” you answered quickly, too quickly, as your eyes slid to where Jeno was dominating the court. His jersey, drenched with sweat, clung to his body, showcasing every muscle, every ripple of his toned arms and chest. His biceps flexed as he dribbled, every move calculated and strong, and there was no denying he looked good tonight. But that’s all it was—an attraction. Purely physical. The sexual chemistry between you two had been undeniable, but it was never enough to keep you together. The connection was shallow. You both knew it, and yet, the ache of desire was still there.
“Good,” Karina smirked, satisfied with your response. “Because you’re my best friend, and I love you. You get a courtesy hold on Mark for the weekend, but after that, he’s fair game.”
You laughed again, shaking your head. Karina had been there for you through everything, especially after the breakup. She knew how to make light of everything, how to push you to move on even when you didn’t want to.
As the game unfolded, you spotted Jeno and Mark’s best friend sitting in the bleachers, her posture shy and reserved. She had that doe-eyed, innocent look about her, with her small frame tucked into an oversized hoodie, eyes wide as she watched the boys play. She seemed out of place here, her innocence a stark contrast to the intensity of the game.
“What’s the story with that one anyway?” Karina asked, her eyes zeroed in on the girl.
You shrugged, not looking away from the court. “Jeno said she’s tutoring him.”
“And hanging out with Mark?” Karina’s eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“They’ve been best friends since they were kids, right?” you replied, though the bitterness in your voice was hard to miss. You had asked Mark once, point-blank, if there was anything more than friendship between them. He had laughed, like the idea was so ridiculous it didn’t even deserve a serious response. She’s like a sister, he’d said.
Karina leaned in, whispering like she was sharing the juiciest gossip. “Right. And we’re supposed to believe she’s just friends with both of them?”
“She doesn’t seem like a troublemaker,” you murmured, though even you weren’t convinced by your own words.
Karina’s gasp made your head snap toward her. “Did you just see that? Jeno gave her the nod.”
You frowned, feeling your stomach twist. “What nod?”
“The ‘let’s hook up after the game’ nod,” Karina explained, her eyes wide in disbelief.
You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Karina, you’re reading too much into things.”
Karina crossed her arms, smirking knowingly. “You wanna know what I think? I think Jeno likes tutor girl. I think tutor girl likes Mark. And I know I like Mark. And I don’t even know who the hell you like anymore.”
“Shut up,” you muttered, though the whole thing was spiraling into a mess you didn’t even know how to untangle.
Back on the court, Donghyuck’s voice crackled through the speaker system, narrating the game with his usual laid-back flair. “Ravens have a big lead early in the second quarter,” he announced, his eyes tracking every movement with a casual ease.
Jeno charged down the court, eyes locked on the basket, but his speed got the better of him. As he tried to weave past an opponent, he slammed into him with his shoulder, sending the opposing player sprawling onto the floor. The referee’s whistle pierced through the noise.
“That’s a foul on Jeno Lee,” Donghyuck’s voice rang through the speakers, cutting through the tension in the gym.
Mark, nearby, groaned in exasperation, shaking his head. “Seriously, man? You’re costing us the game,” he muttered, though loud enough for Jeno to hear.
Jeno spun around, eyes blazing with anger. “Mind your own business,”
Mark’s smirk only widened as he crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realise we were here to watch you fuck up.” He raised a brow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe if you could actually control your temper, we’d be winning by more.”
Jeno stepped closer, his jaw clenched tight. “How about you shut your mouth before I make you.”
Mark shrugged, not backing down. “Why don’t I beat your ass right here and save us the trouble?”
The tension between them was palpable, their rivalry burning hotter by the second. Even though they were on the same team, they were playing like they were enemies, completely isolated in their own games. Jeno refused to pass the ball to Mark, and Mark ignored Jeno’s open plays, yet somehow, the team was still leading. It was a miracle they were winning at all.
Then came Mark’s turn for a foul. He was dribbling down the court, eyes locked on the basket, when he made an overly ambitious attempt at a crossover. His footwork got tangled, and in an awkward stumble, he ended up traveling—taking one too many steps before the ball left his hands.
The referee’s whistle blew sharply. “Traveling violation on Mark Lee!” Donghyuck announced, the crowd groaning in response.
Jeno, quick to pounce on any mistake, smirked. “Nice one, genius. You forget how to dribble?”
Mark shot him a venomous look, his frustration simmering. “Why don’t you try shutting the hell up?”
The game continued, but the tension between them was only escalating. You saw Jeno glance toward Mark’s best friend in the bleachers, her face bored as she gazed around, barely paying attention.
“Hey, she’s looking pretty fine tonight, right?” Jeno smirked, leaning toward Mark just enough for him to hear. “Can’t wait to get with that after the game.”
Mark’s face twisted with anger, the tension between him and Jeno reaching a boiling point. He shot a glance at you, his voice low but cutting, every word laced with venom. “Caught Jeno in the locker room earlier… guess I finally figured out why you left him.”
The implication hung heavy in the air, unspoken but obvious. The cheerleaders beside you snickered softly, exchanging knowing glances. You widen your eyes in disbelief, a flush creeping up your neck as you process his words. It wasn’t just a jab at Jeno—it was personal, and everyone around could feel it.
Jeno’s face contorted with pure rage, his eyes narrowing as the tension finally snapped. Without hesitation, he hurled the basketball straight at Mark’s head, the thud of impact echoing through the gym. In that split second, the air shifted, thick with hostility, and everything spiraled out of control.
The next thing you knew, they were on each other, fists flying as the audience gasped in shock. Mark shoved Jeno hard, sending him stumbling back. Jeno’s momentum carried him into Karina, who was caught off guard and stumbled back, screaming as she fell to the ground.
But Jeno wasn’t backing down. He regained his balance quickly, grabbed Mark by the collar, and yanked him forward, slamming his fist into Mark’s stomach.
The players on the court rushed in, trying to pull them apart, but they were relentless. Every punch, every shove, was filled with weeks, maybe months, of pent-up frustration. As they tussled, Karina, still on the floor, tried to recover, her face etched with pain and confusion.
Coach Suh stormed onto the court, his face red with anger as he bellowed orders. “What the hell is going on?!”
The referee blew his whistle, his voice barely cutting through the chaos. “That’s it, both of you are out!”
“You’re throwing them both out of the game?!” Coach Suh shouted, barely able to contain his rage.
“I have to, Coach,” the referee yelled back. “Punches were thrown.”
“They’re both on the same team!” Coach Suh screamed, his frustration palpable.
The whole gym was a mess—cheerleaders trying to calm the crowd, players separating the two brothers, Coach Suh losing his mind on the sidelines. You couldn’t believe how quickly things had spiraled out of control.
You rushed over to Karina, helping her up from where she lay on the gym floor. “Are you okay?” you asked, concerned.
She clutched her head, wincing in pain. “Ow, pain,” she muttered, rubbing her temple.
And as you looked back at Mark and Jeno, both of them being escorted off the court, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was all going to end.
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The bus rattles down the dark country road, headlights cutting through the shadows as the low hum of the engine mingles with the tired murmurs of the team. The cheerleaders sit scattered across seats, throwing occasional wary glances at Coach Suh, who stands at the front of the coach, face set like stone, eyes boring into the back of everyone’s heads. The tension is thick, even those uninvolved feel the simmering anger rolling off him, spreading like wildfire. But the main culprits sit slouched in the back, sullen and unrepentant.
“Mark Lee, Jeno Lee. On your feet.”
The entire bus goes silent. Jeno rolls his eyes, but he stands, fixing a casual scowl on his face. Mark follows suit, his jaw tight, as if bracing for a hit. Coach Suh steps closer, his gaze narrowing on the two of them, nostrils flaring.
“Congratulations, boys. In all my years coaching, this has got to be a low point.” His words land like blows, the weight of disappointment dripping from each syllable. “That little stunt you pulled almost cost us our undefeated record.”
He pauses, arms crossed, eyes flicking between the two. “I don’t give a damn about your issues with your daddy, your girlfriends, or whatever garbage you’re both dragging out here. As far as I’m concerned, you can hate each other until hell freezes over, but if you’re gonna play on my team, you’re gonna learn how to work together.”
Jeno scoffs, crossing his arms. “I can’t see that happening, Suh.”
Coach Suh’s face hardens, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Yeah? Well, you’ve got thirty miles to figure it out.” Without another word, he jerks his thumb toward the door. “Get off my bus.”
The two barely have a moment to process before Coach is barking orders to the driver. They’re pushed off the bus, stumbling onto the gravel shoulder as the bus door slams shut. Exhaust fumes fill the air as the coach pulls away, taillights fading in the distance, leaving them stranded under a starlit sky.
“They can’t just leave us here,” Jeno mutters, a mixture of disbelief and anger flashing in his eyes.
Mark sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glances down the dark, empty road stretching ahead. “Nice work, idiot.”
Mark shakes his head, glancing back at the road as if it might magically bring the bus back. “My wallet’s on that bus, too.”
“Mine too,” Jeno mutters.
The silence stretches between them, punctuated only by the distant rustling of trees in the wind and the steady chirp of crickets. They both realize the absurdity of it — left with nothing but each other on an empty road, thirty miles from any sign of life.
Jeno breaks the silence with a frustrated groan. “What the hell do we do now?”
Mark glances down the road, kicking at the gravel under his feet. “We start walking.”
The night air is chilly, and the silence between them grows colder. They walk side by side, their footsteps crunching on the gravel, neither willing to break the silence until the irritation bubbles over, each resentful glance in the other’s direction building until it finally snaps.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you never joined the team,” Jeno hisses, his voice carrying through the empty night like a challenge.
Mark’s fists clench at his sides, but he keeps his voice low, controlled. “No, we wouldn’t be out here if you weren’t such a jackass about me joining the team.”
Jeno scoffs, turning to face him. “Why do you want my life so bad, anyway?”
Mark stops, looking at him dead-on. “This again? Dude, don’t flatter yourself. You’re the last person I’d wanna trade places with.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jeno’s voice is harsh, his words fueled by a bitterness that runs deep. “All I know is that you came out of nowhere and started grabbing everything you could from me. My game, my girl.” His voice cracks, a flash of vulnerability slipping through before he regains his composure. “Sounds like a broken record, right?”
Mark’s lips curl into a smirk, his eyes glinting in the low light as he shoots back, “Your girl? Last I checked, she dumped your stupid ass.”
Jeno’s jaw tightens, but he scoffs, brushing it off with a roll of his eyes. “I actually dumped her, but—”
Before he can finish, Mark steps closer, his expression darkening, his voice deadly calm. “Watch it.”
They stand there, silence stretching between them, eyes locked in an unspoken challenge. Mark’s mind flashes with memories he’d buried, moments that flood his thoughts with a guilty thrill. He wonders if Jeno has any idea what happened after Jeno walked away from you, the way you gravitated toward Mark, the way you sought him out with a lingering gaze, lips parted, words barely needing to be said.
And Mark wonders what Jeno would do if he knew how you clung to him that night, how your fingers traced his skin, how your breath hitched every time he touched you. If he knew the things you whispered in the dark, the way you looked at him with need, the way you wanted him — wanted to fuck him so badly, a fire in your eyes that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with desire.
The thought stirs something in Mark, a dangerous satisfaction.
Mark’s gaze softens, but there’s an edge to it, as if he’s finally had enough. “Well, what about you?” he shoots back, voice laced with bitterness. “I bet your grades sucked before you met me.”
Jeno’s face contorts, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Who said all me and her got is about grades?”
Mark studies Jeno’s face for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He hesitates, choosing his words carefully, knowing exactly how to hit where it matters without overstepping.
“You ever think about why people put up with you?” Mark says, his tone softer, almost casual, but there’s an edge. “Like my best friend… I don’t know what’s going on between you two but she’s been in your corner even when you don’t make it easy. And you don’t even seem to notice.”
Jeno’s face hardens, his defensiveness flaring up. “Last time I checked, it’s none of your fucking business,” he snaps.
Mark chuckles dryly, shaking his head. “Friends don’t have to keep sticking around, Jeno. She doesn’t have to. You act like people are just gonna stay no matter what, like she’ll always be there for you.” He lets the silence settle, watching Jeno’s reaction. “But even she’s gonna reach her limit eventually.”
Jeno’s jaw tenses, brushing it off. “She won’t..”
Mark just sighs, his gaze shifting down the road. “Just don’t be surprised if one day she’s not waiting around for you to get your act together. She’s got her own life, her own choices.” He glances at Jeno, a hint of something in his eyes Jeno doesn’t quite catch. “And maybe she’s already realizing that.”
───────────────────────────────
The sterile chill of the doctor’s office settles over you as you sit beside Karina, who winces each time she moves her ankle. The rest of the team is back at the motel, locked down under a strict curfew after Coach Suh’s fury over Mark and Jeno’s latest stunt. Somehow, though, he made an exception for you to accompany Karina here, her ankle too swollen and painful to ignore.
Karina shifts on the examination table, sucking in a sharp breath as the doctor carefully assesses the injury, then begins wrapping her ankle in a firm bandage. She bites her lip, eyelids fluttering as she watches him intently, a coy smile playing on her lips. You frown, noticing her glancing up at him with a softness in her eyes that feels oddly out of place. He isn’t even that attractive, you think, confused by her sudden flirtation.
“Don’t worry, doctor,” she says with a playful tilt of her head, voice honeyed. “I’m in good hands, aren’t I?”
You’re about to say something, feeling the strangeness of it all, when the doctor reaches into his drawer, pulling out a small bottle of painkillers. “Here, take one of these now,” he says, handing her a pill, “and just half of one every twelve hours. Don’t take too many at once—”
Karina pops three of them into her mouth, swallowing them with a quick, mischievous grin. “Oops,” she giggles, leaning back with a sigh as if this is all part of the plan.
And in a flash, it clicks — the batting eyelashes, the sugary smile, the subtle brush of her fingers against his hand. She’s not flirting with him for his attention. She’s trying to score extra meds. You watch in astonishment as she tilts her head, feigning another innocent look. “Doctor, do you think I could maybe… have a few more? You know, just in case the pain gets really bad later?”
The doctor hesitates, clearly charmed, and reluctantly hands over a few extra pills. Karina’s eyes glint with satisfaction, tucking the extra pills into her bag as she gives him one last, grateful smile.
As you help Karina hobble out, she’s clutching your arm, her eyes glassy and far too animated. She’s practically bouncing as you guide her down the hallway.
Outside, as you’re about to help her into the car, you notice a familiar face near the entrance. Mark’s best friend stands there, looking caught off guard, her eyes widening as if she’s been caught red-handed.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and suspicion in your voice.
“Oh, I was just… exploring the area,” she says, her voice wavering slightly as she tries to sound casual.
You laugh, shaking your head. “We’re at a doctor’s office.”
She bites her lip, looking away with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, well… I wanted to see it, okay?”
You roll your eyes. “Right. Totally makes sense.”
Karina, meanwhile, is swaying on her feet, her arm still looped through yours, a dazed smile on her face. “We should totally hang out more often, what’s your name?”
The girl says her name, but Karina waves her hand dismissively. “I’m gonna call you ‘Rina’. I don’t like your name.”
The girl looks between the two of you, unsure if she should laugh or be offended. “Thanks… I guess.”
You chuckle, exasperated but amused, as Karina starts humming a random tune under her breath. “C’mon, Karina, let’s get you to the car.”
As you help Karina toward the car, she pauses, glancing back at Mark’s best friend with wide, pleading eyes. “Wait! Y/N, can she come with us?”
You raise an eyebrow, giving her a questioning look. She hesitates, clearing her throat. “I already got a ride back to the motel.”
You sigh, a small, amused smile playing at your lips. “What, the bus? The last one just left a few minutes ago. And you wanna go by public transport at this time of night? In an unknown and dark area?”
She falters, glancing down the empty road, clearly rethinking her plan. Meanwhile, Karina lights up, a grin stretching across her face as if it’s all settled. “Perfect!, you’re coming with us!” she declares, already pulling her toward the back seat.
You can’t help but roll your eyes as they both settle in, Karina giggling and leaning close to her. As soon as you start the car, Karina’s hand darts forward, reaching for the radio.
“Don’t touch the radio, or we’ll have a problem,” you warn, catching her eye in the rearview mirror.
But she’s already twisting the dial, landing on a random station and singing along, loud and out of tune. Mark’s best friend glances at you with a half-smile, half-grimace, clearly unsure of what she’s gotten herself into.
“Don’t worry,” you reassure her with a quick look back. “She’ll be fine once she sleeps it off.”
Karina, oblivious to the cautious energy in the car, leans over, grabbing her friend’s hand with wide, adoring eyes. “You’re my favorite, Rina. We’re gonna be best friends forever,” she slurs with a giggle, still believing her name was ‘Rina.’
You stifle a laugh as you pull out onto the road, realising it’s going to be a long, strange ride back to the motel.
───────────────────────────────
The quiet hum of the car blends with Karina’s off-key singing, her hand fiddling with the radio as you drive along the deserted road. The night stretches on outside the car windows, fields bathed in moonlight, the road a dark ribbon cutting through the countryside. Mark’s best friend sits beside Karina, offering an amused glance every now and then, though you can tell she’s half-wishing she’d chosen a different ride back to the motel. You stifle a smile at the absurdity of it all.
The journey’s been quiet for a while now, with Karina’s singing slowing to a soft hum as she leans against the window, eyelids heavy, barely holding onto her high. You’re halfway back, another hour to go, when a movement on the roadside catches your attention. Two figures, barely illuminated by your headlights, are trudging along the shoulder, looking like they’ve been through hell. Squinting, you realise it’s Jeno and Mark, walking side by side, both looking rough and dishevelled. Seriously, did they spend the whole time hitting each other?
You slow down and pull over, giving a quick beep to catch their attention. The boys look up, relief flashing across their faces as they recognize you. But as you look closer, confusion knots in your stomach; they don’t seem like they’re fighting, but they’re covered in marks and bruises, a testament to some kind of ordeal. They approach the car, Jeno with tired eyes and Mark with a weary, yet satisfied look.
You arch an eyebrow, eyeing the two of them, your voice laced with incredulity. “Do I even wanna know what happened?”
Jeno and Mark exchange glances, and without a word of protest, they begin to explain. It starts with them walking back, still stewing in anger from being thrown off the bus. Then, a group of players from the opposing team spotted them and pulled over, offering Jeno a ride. Despite the uneasy feeling in the air, Jeno’s pride wouldn’t let him turn it down, even when Mark, sensing trouble, warned him against it. But Jeno got in anyway, throwing Mark a smug look that all but dared him to follow. Mark, unwilling to leave his brother alone, reluctantly climbed in.
The ride took a turn, just as Mark had feared. The opposing players started messing with them, egging them on with taunts and jeers until they forced Jeno and Mark to strip down to their boxers. Humiliation simmered in Jeno’s eyes, his fists clenched tight, but Mark kept his cool, his mind spinning for a way out. It was then that the players offered a sick deal: they’d leave them alone if the brothers fought each other.
With no other option, Jeno and Mark put on a show, faking punches and grappling. But as they moved, Mark managed to swipe the car keys from one of the guys’ pockets. It was the first time they’d worked together as a team, their silent coordination kicking in out of pure desperation. When the brawl seemed convincing enough, they seized their chance, racing to the car, only to find it stuck in the mud. Swearing under their breath, they abandoned it and took off on foot, laughing despite the absurdity of it all, still bickering, but now with a hint of shared respect.
Listening to their tale, you can’t help but shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. There’s tension still simmering between them, unspoken words and unresolved resentment hanging heavy in the air. But this, this was a start. It was far too early to think all their issues could be resolved in one night, but maybe — just for tonight — you could all ignore the conflict, let it slip away, and pretend things were fine.
“Coach Suh and his tactics really work,” you muse, half in astonishment, as you look between them when the traffic lights flash red. You catch a rare moment of calm in their expressions, Mark’s gaze softened, Jeno’s cocky mask quietq just slightly as he leans back, arms crossed.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mark’s best friend with a small smirk, the corner of her lips quirking upward. Huh. What was that about? She’s usually quiet, but there’s something in her look that suggests she knows more than she’s letting on. It’s always the quiet ones, you think, a sense of curiosity stirring.
As you pull away from the stop, a thought crosses your mind — could she have had something to do with this? With Jeno’s sudden willingness to give Mark even a sliver of slack? The ride back stretches on, filled with a strange mixture of silence and soft laughter, the beginnings of an unexpected truce lingering in the air.
──────────────────────────────
The motel looms in the dim glow of your car’s headlights as you pull into the cracked, uneven parking lot. A few lights flicker weakly along the exterior, casting pale, yellow circles on the worn asphalt, barely enough to pierce through the night. The building itself is modest, cloaked in an air of neglect, with faded paint peeling from the wood and shadows thickening in the crevices around the doors and windows. The faint hum of buzzing neon letters above the entrance spells out “Vacancy,” the ‘V’ occasionally blinking, as if it’s uncertain about its own existence.
Jeno’s voice breaks the silence as he turns to you, hands casually stuffed in his pockets. “Hey, me and the guys are gonna go partying. You wanna come?” He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to Mark for a split second before landing back on you, a hint of mischief in his smile.
You shake your head, laughing softly. “I’m really tired. I think I’ll call it a night. You enjoy yourself, though. I don’t know how you have so much energy after all that happened today.”
Jeno just shrugs, his smile widening. “Suit yourself.”
“I wanna come!” Karina chimes in, bouncing over to Jeno and slinging an arm around his shoulders with such force that he nearly stumbles, catching her with a chuckle. He slips an arm around her back, steadying her, and they both look over at Mark’s best friend, asking if she wants to tag along
She laughs, shaking her head in amusement. “Fuck it, fine, I’ll go too. Why not?”
Jeno’s gaze drifts back to you, a final question in his eyes. “You sure you don’t want to come, Y/N?”
You smile, shaking your head once more. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
With a shrug, he gives you a warm smile. “Alright, then. Good night.” He gives Mark a small nod, and then the three of them disappear into the shadows of the parking lot, their laughter echoing softly as they head toward the distant thrum of the party.
The night settles around you, the silence deepening. You turn to Mark, who lingers by your side, his presence grounding you in the quiet. He’s watching you, his gaze thoughtful, steady, as if waiting.
The doors to the motel swing open, revealing a dimly lit hallway that stretches out in both directions, lined with faded floral wallpaper and scuffed wooden trim. The smell is a mix of old wood, dust, and something faintly sweet, like the lingering remnants of perfume, as if echoes of past guests have left traces of themselves here, woven into the fabric of the place.
You walk in silence, each footstep softened by the thin, worn carpet, every sound amplified in the otherwise quiet space. The tension between you hums, tangible and charged, filling the stillness with an unspoken understanding that neither of you seems willing to break.
You reach the start of the long hallway, the shadows deepening around you. There, you both come to a natural stop, instinctively turning to face each other. The faint glow from the flickering bulbs above casts soft light across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the warmth in his eyes as he looks down at you. For a moment, neither of you speaks, standing there, so close yet so unsure, the silence thickening as you both search for something to say.
Your mouth parts slightly, words hovering on the edge, but they refuse to come. His gaze holds yours, unwavering, his lips parting just a fraction, mirroring your own silent question, as if he’s also lost in the space between you, not knowing where to begin. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a softness that catches you off guard, and you feel the weight of it, heavy and warm, settling in your chest.
Finally, he clears his throat, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “I’ll walk you to your room, this place is so creepy.” He says, the words quiet but steady.
You nod, your breath catching, feeling the warmth of his offer seep into your skin, grounding you. “Yeah… I’d like that, it’s such a dark hallway, it’s so scary.” You murmur, your voice soft, barely breaking the silence, and together, you begin to walk down the dim hallway, your footsteps falling into a quiet rhythm, side by side, close enough to feel each other’s presence, every step heightening the anticipation that hangs between you.
“Let’s go,” he says softly, his voice steady yet gentle, and it pulls you out of the moment, grounding you.
As you walk, Mark stays close by your side, his presence warm and solid in the dimness. You’re embarrassed by the way your hand brushes against his arm, how you instinctively lean just a little closer than necessary, as if his nearness alone can fend off the eerie stillness of the hallway. Your heart pounds louder than you’d like, each beat reminding you how aware you are of him, of every detail — the quiet confidence in his stride, the way his eyes scan the corridor, protective but at ease.
The hallway stretches ahead, narrowing into shadows at the far end, every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet making the silence feel heavier. The motel feels frozen in time, suspended in an atmosphere thick with the ghosts of other people’s stories. Faint, peeling paintings line the walls, barely visible in the dim light, their subjects obscured by layers of dust and age. Mark’s gaze moves from one faded frame to the next, a quiet curiosity in his eyes, as if he’s absorbing every detail, noticing things even you missed.
When you finally reach your room, you fumble with the key, your hands inexplicably shaky, and feel a rush of relief as the door swings open. The room is small, modest, barely illuminated by the single bedside lamp casting a soft, amber glow over the space. The beds are narrow, pushed against opposite walls, their sheets clean but worn, edges frayed, as if they’ve seen countless nights. The carpet is thin, faded in patches, and the heavy drapes by the window barely keep out the dim streetlight filtering in from outside.
You turn to Mark, who stands in the doorway, his gaze moving over the room before landing back on you. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart pound a little faster, a warmth that lingers between you in the quiet.
“You can stay… if you want. Karina won’t be back anytime soon, so we could just… hang out,” you murmur, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, feeling the weight of the invitation hanging in the air.
Mark stands there, just inside the doorway, his gaze steady on you, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Instead, a small, gentle smile tugs at his lips, and he raises an eyebrow slightly, letting the words hang between you. “‘Hang out?’” he repeats softly, as though he’s testing the phrase.
You feel your cheeks heat up, the way he says it makes the words feel bolder, more vulnerable than you intended. You swallow, nodding, and barely manage to whisper, “Yes.”
He steps further inside, closing the door gently behind him, the quiet click of the lock making your heart pound a little harder. “I’d like that,” he says, his voice warm, carrying a softness that makes the air around you feel charged, close, as though even the walls of the room are holding their breath.
You gesture toward the room with a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension settling between you. “Oh, by the way… there’s two beds,” you say, your voice soft, almost playful, as if pointing it out might somehow make the moment feel less charged, less intimate.
His eyes follow where you’re pointing, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances from one bed to the other, then back to you. The look in his eyes is knowing, almost amused, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the words linger, a silent acknowledgment of the thin veil of casualness you’re both holding onto.
You settle onto the edge of your bed, pulling out your sketchbook, pencils, camera, and laptop, thinking you might take this quiet moment to finish some assignments. Mark moves toward the other bed, but his eyes remain on you, an intensity in his gaze that you can feel even as you focus on your work, earbuds in, trying to ground yourself in the familiar tasks.
You’re so lost in your own world that you don’t notice him move until he gently tugs one earbud out, his fingers brushing your ear softly. You glance up, startled, and find him close, his face inches from yours, a soft amusement in his gaze.
“You’re working? Now?” he whispers, his voice low, carrying a warmth that pulls at something deep inside you.
“Mm-hm,” you manage, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his steady gaze. “It… it needs to get done.”
He watches you for a moment, a quiet curiosity in his eyes, then offers, “Can I help? I’m not really tired.”
You smile, nodding as you pat the empty space beside you. “You can just… sit here. Keep me company.” Your heart races as he settles beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight, pulling you both closer together.
The proximity is overwhelming, his warmth seeping through the space between you, grounding and intoxicating at the same time. You can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours. The scent of him, soft peaches, lingers in the air, and each detail heightens your awareness of him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
The silence between you stretches, his eyes holding yours as his hand reaches out, fingers brushing softly against your wrist. He slides the hair tie from your hand, his touch deliberate, steady, igniting a tingling warmth that spreads through you.
Without a word, he gathers your hair gently, his fingers working it into a loose, careful hold, his movements precise yet tender. The way he pulls the tie over your hair feels intimate, his fingers grazing your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he finishes, his hand lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
“Thank—thank you,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper, feeling an inexplicable rush of warmth at the simple, quiet closeness of the moment.
He smiles, his gaze tracing over you, lingering on the way your hair falls loosely around your shoulders. “You look… different with your hair up,” he murmurs, his eyes dipping to your neck. “You should wear it like that more often.”
You try to respond, but your words stumble over each other, caught in the quiet storm of his attention. “I… I usually… thank you,” you manage, feeling the heat bloom across your cheeks, acutely aware of how vulnerable you feel under his gaze.
It’s strange, feeling so affected by him. You’ve always been the one in control, the one who never falters, but here, in this quiet, dimly lit room, it’s as if he has stripped away every layer, leaving you open, raw, trembling with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.
“So,” he says, his voice breaking the silence, smooth and warm, “what do you need help with?”
He looks down at your camera, piecing together your intentions with a quiet, knowing smile, and you find yourself blurting out, “Can I… take some photos of you? For one of my projects?”
He holds your gaze, nodding slowly. “Yes,” he answers, his voice steady, unhesitating, as if he’s saying yes to more than just the photos.
You stand, adjusting the lighting, switching off the main lights and leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows across the room. The light caresses his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the quiet strength in his posture. It feels like he belongs here, in this softened light, like he’s made for this moment, this intimacy.
You lift the camera, heart pounding as you look through the lens, capturing the way his eyes follow you, calm and steady, a hint of curiosity flickering in their depths. He’s not just a subject; he’s something real, something grounding, something that makes your breath catch with every click of the shutter.
Zooming in closer, you focus on the details — the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheek, the hint of stubble along his jaw, the relaxed curve of his lips. You feel your pulse quicken, each shot a quiet revelation, a piece of him you’re allowed to see, a vulnerability he’s offering willingly.
“Come closer,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle command, pulling you deeper into the moment. You step closer, the distance between you disappearing, and he leans back, spreading his arms casually along the headboard, letting his head fall back slightly, exposing the soft line of his neck. It’s an invitation, a silent offering, and you capture it, feeling your heart stutter with every shot.
At one point, he reaches out, fingers brushing the lens, then your hand, his touch light but grounding, making your hands tremble. His eyes meet yours, his voice soft, almost reverent. “Can I see what you’ve taken?”
You flip the camera around, showing him, and he studies each shot, his gaze intense, thoughtful, a quiet pride flickering in his eyes. “These are… they’re really good,” he says, his voice laced with something deeper, something that feels like admiration
Your cheeks flush, and you look away, stammering, “It’s… it’s nothing. Just… I mean, it’s easy to get good shots when—” You stop, feeling the words catch in your throat, the compliment feeling almost too much to say aloud.
Mark’s gaze softens as he watches you, a quiet, understanding smile spreading across his face. “When?” he prompts, leaning in slightly, his voice coaxing but gentle, waiting patiently for you to finish.
You hesitate, feeling your heart race, before managing, “When the person in front of the camera… makes it easy.” The words are quiet, barely more than a whisper, but he hears them, his eyes darkening just a bit, a flicker of something deeper passing over his face.
He doesn’t look away. Instead, he reaches out again, fingertips brushing lightly along the side of the camera, his touch grazing yours. “You know, you should give yourself more credit for how gifted you are. You have a real eye for photography and capturing the scene, I just wish you’d realise that,” he murmurs, a note of awe in his voice. “It’s like you capture more than just what’s in front of you.” His hand finds yours, fingers wrapping around yours gently, grounding and intimate.
The silence that settles around you is thick with unspoken understanding, a closeness that feels as though it’s been building since the moment you stepped into the room. He lowers his hand but keeps his gaze on you, his eyes soft, searching. The air between you grows still, and you’re aware of every breath, every slight shift in the mattress beneath you, the scent of him lingering around you, warm and inviting.
It feels like he’s going to kiss you, but instead, he breaks the moment with a small grin, tilting his head as he looks at you. He reaches for the camera in your hands, fingers brushing yours as he takes it.
“Your turn,” he says, his voice warm, coaxing. “Let me take a few of you.”
You hesitate, glancing at the camera and then back at him, unsure, feeling the flush deepen in your cheeks. But he just smiles, steady and reassuring. “I want to see you… as you are,” he murmurs, his tone genuine, his gaze holding an invitation you can’t quite resist.
He shifts closer, his hand gently guiding your shoulders back, adjusting your posture with a care that’s both comforting and intimate. “Here… just relax,” he says softly, his fingers lingering briefly on your shoulder before moving to rest gently on your waist, positioning you as he wants. You feel a warmth radiate from his touch, a grounding sensation that makes it hard to breathe steadily.
“Relax,” he says again, his voice low, soothing, his gaze focused on you as if you’re the only thing in the room. “Just be yourself. That’s all I’m asking.” His fingers adjust the angle of your arm, his thumb brushing along your wrist as he guides you into a natural, comfortable pose. The intensity in his gaze makes you feel like he’s peeling back every layer, seeing something raw and true beneath your surface.
He lifts the camera, snapping a few shots, his focus unwavering. “That’s perfect,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking from the viewfinder to you, his smile soft, encouraging. “Just like that.” There’s a quiet reverence in his tone, as if he’s in awe, like he’s seeing you in a way no one else ever has.
You shift, self-conscious, and he moves even closer, reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering at your temple. “You don’t have to hold back,” he says, voice low and close. “Just let go, Y/N. It’s only me.” His words sink in, their honesty disarming, making you feel safe, and you can’t help but let a small smile break through, the tension in your shoulders easing.
Mark smiles, his voice soft as he captures another shot. “See? You’re beautiful, exactly as you are,” he says, the words genuine, quiet, like he’s saying them more to himself than to you. His hand finds your shoulder again, his thumb brushing in a light, comforting circle as he adjusts the angle, his touch steadying you.
His gaze never wavers, and in the silence, he murmurs, “You make this look easy, you know that?” His fingers trail gently along your collarbone, adjusting your posture, his hand lingering just a moment longer than necessary, a warmth seeping through his touch.
“Mark…” you whisper, unsure of what to say, your voice barely audible.
Mark’s gaze holds steady, an unwavering confidence in his eyes as he lifts the camera and gives a slight nod. “Take off your sweater,” he says, voice low, almost a soft command. There’s no hesitation, no room for second-guessing in his tone, just a quiet assurance that makes your heart race.
“Mark?” you murmur, uncertain, searching his expression, feeling a flicker of nerves.
He smirks, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that playful, knowing way of his. “It’s for the sake of art,” he insists, a teasing edge to his voice. “You can’t argue with me on that.”
You feel a rush of heat spread through your cheeks, his words emboldening you. His gaze is steady, encouraging, his confidence somehow reassuring, and you find yourself trusting him, letting go of your hesitation.
The sweater slips from your fingers and pools on the floor, leaving you in nothing but a lace bra, delicate and sheer, hugging your curves and revealing just enough to make the air between you feel electric. The lace clings to your skin, delicate patterns stretching across your chest, faintly exposing the shape of your breasts, the soft rise and fall with each breath, and the subtle peak of your nipples through the fabric. You can feel the cool air prickling your skin, heightening every sensation, every nerve ending alive under his gaze.
Mark’s eyes travel over you, lingering at the curves, the shadows, his gaze tracing every inch like he’s committing it to memory. His breath catches, almost imperceptibly, as his eyes roam over the lace, lingering at the exposed skin along your collarbone, dipping lower to take in the lines of your waist, the softness of your stomach. There’s a sharpness in his gaze, an intensity, but it’s the way his jaw tightens, the way his throat bobs with a quiet swallow that reveals the effect you’re having on him.
The camera hangs loosely in his hands, momentarily forgotten as he studies you, his gaze darkening with each second. You feel the weight of his attention, the way his eyes roam over the gentle curve of your hips, the delicate arch of your ribcage, as if he’s savoring every detail, reluctant to let any part of you go unnoticed.
He raises the camera again, and the click of the shutter feels heavier this time, intimate. With each shot, you feel more exposed, more seen. His silence speaks louder than any words, each subtle shift in his posture, each lingering look, making you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in the room.
Mark’s voice is a low, commanding whisper. “Take everything else off.”
You feel a surge of heat rush through you, your fingers lingering at the hem of your bra as you meet his gaze, challenging, steady. “You want me to strip for you?” Your voice carries a daring edge, matching the intensity of his.
You don’t wait for him to respond or to take all of the control. Instead, you lean in, grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him down with a force that matches the heat between you, crashing your lips into his. The kiss is raw, hungry, unrestrained, a fierce claim that leaves no space for hesitation. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, your nails dragging across his skin, feeling the hard muscle tense beneath as your touch ignites a fire between you both. His jaw clenches under your grip, and you let your lips roam, biting and sucking along the line of his neck, relishing the way his breath hitches, the way his body reacts to every bold touch, every demanding kiss.
He lets out a low growl, meeting your fervour, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed tight, his breath hot against your mouth. The kiss is messy, fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, meeting each other’s roughness head-on. His hand finds your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp, and he takes advantage of the moment, pressing deeper, his tongue tracing over yours, tasting you with a hunger that’s as consuming as it is electric. Every movement is rough, every touch searing.
You push him back, guiding him down onto the bed as you climb over him, pressing him firmly against the mattress. Your hands trace over his chest, feeling every line and curve of muscle, savouring the way his body responds to your touch. His hands grip your hips with a rough urgency, holding you close as you begin to grind against him, the friction between you intense and undeniable. The movement sends waves of heat through you, a building pressure that makes you both gasp, your bodies finding a rhythm together, every shift and grind drawing you closer.
You press down onto him, moving your hips in a steady rhythm, feeling the hardness beneath you, his body responding to each shift, each movement. There’s a delicious pressure that builds with every grind, his hands pressing firmly into your hips, guiding you, encouraging you to press even closer. The rough fabric of his jeans adds to the sensation, intensifying the friction, making each rock of your hips a mix of pressure and heat. You can feel his breath hitch, his body tensing beneath yours, every low groan that escapes him spurring you on, the sounds blending with your own gasps as you both lose yourselves in the feeling, the closeness, the raw connection building between you.
Your mouth finds his neck, leaving a trail of kisses as you rock against him, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the low, raw sounds escaping from both of you. His hands press into your skin, pulling you against him with each grind, the friction building, your moans filling the air as you lose yourselves in the rhythm, a desperate, unrestrained connection as you both give in completely.
Without breaking away, you slide your hands down, gripping the hem of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as you start to lift it. There’s a sense of urgency in your movements, a building anticipation that makes your pulse race, but just as you begin to pull his shirt up, his hands catch your wrists, stopping you with a firm but gentle grip.
“Not yet,” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips as he leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss there. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense, searching. “I want to know more about you… everything you’re willing to tell me.” His words are quiet but hold a weight, a sincerity that sinks deep, leaving you feeling bare in a way that has nothing to do with clothes.
His steady gaze holds yours, and you feel your confident act slipping away, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. There’s a warmth in his eyes, a sense of safety that makes you want to open up, to let him in, even though sharing yourself hasn’t always come easily.
You hum softly, nodding, and he continues, his voice low and inviting. “Let’s play a game, hm? Tell me something about yourself that you’ve never told anyone, and for each secret, you get to take off one piece of my clothes.”
A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, and you nod, feeling oddly comfortable, the way he looks at you making you feel secure, protected. Normally, you’d hesitate to let anyone in this close, but with him, it feels right, natural, as if he’s creating a space for you to share, to be yourself without judgment.
You take a breath, gathering your thoughts. “Alright… here’s one,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “When I was a kid, I used to sneak out at night, just to take photos of the sky and all of the constellations. I’d sit outside for hours. That's how my love for photography started. It was when I felt safest and most at peace.”
He smiles, the warmth in his eyes deepening, and without a word, he leans in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a tender kiss that holds a quiet reverence. You take the moment, slipping your hands under his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor. He looks at you, bare-chested, his skin warm, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath.
You take him in, the lean lines of his torso revealed in the dim light. His skin is smooth and inviting, the muscles of his chest subtly defined, rising and falling with each steady breath. Your eyes trace the lines of his collarbone, down to the toned plane of his chest, where each contour hints at both strength and vulnerability.
You smile, feeling the intimacy between you grow, and decide to lighten the moment with your next fact. “Alright, here’s a weird one… I’m terrified of carrots,” you admit with a shy laugh, “and I have no idea why. It’s irrational.”
He chuckles, his laugh low and soft, his eyes crinkling with amusement. You giggle too, your laughter spilling over as you kiss him again, the lightheartedness making the moment feel even more genuine, more real. You climb off him for a second, struggling playfully as you work on unzipping his jeans, and he lifts his hips, sliding them off and tossing them to the floor with a grin.
In one quick motion, he pulls you back on top of him, his hands finding your thighs as he guides you down, holding you close. You start to grind against him again, you’re unable to resist. Your breaths mingle, a delicious friction building as you press down onto him, the heat between you intensifying. His hard length presses through the thin material of his boxers, and you let out a soft, high-pitched moan, feeling your own body respond, your hips moving of their own accord.
“You still have one more fact to tell me,” he murmurs, his voice teasing, his lips brushing your ear as he smirks, clearly enjoying how distracted you’re becoming.
You bite your lip, your hands splayed against his chest as you try to focus, the warmth of his body beneath you making it hard to think. He leans in close, his voice a low murmur. “You know, you haven’t even been fucked by my cock and you’re already this needy…”
As you reach the last barrier of his clothing, a sigh of relief escapes you. Your hands tremble slightly with anticipation as they move towards the zip on his jeans. But before you can pull it down, his hands clamp over yours, stopping you. His grip is firm, his expression stern yet amused by your obvious eagerness.
You pout deeply, frustration and desire mingling on your face. “I’ve told you enough, please take off your pants.”
He chuckles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “I don’t know, I think I’m going to need a little more detail, baby. What about being dominated do you like so much?”
Caught off guard by his insistence on understanding your desires, you falter for a moment before admitting, “I like being pinned down,” your eyes flicking to his arms, imagining them restraining you, the thought alone sending a thrill through you.
“And what else?” he presses, leaning in closer.
“I like being slapped, spit on, choked, being fucked dumb. I just like feeling like I’ve completely lost control and the guy on top takes it,” you confess, your voice a whisper of raw honesty.
He smirks, his voice dropping to a seductive growl. “Oh, is that what you want from me? You want me to hold you down and fuck you so hard you forget your own name? You want me to use you, throw you around?”
You nod vigorously, “Mhm, now can I have your cock, pleaseee?” your whisper laden with need.
“I don’t know, it feels like there’s something you’re holding back,” he teases, his hands loosening their hold on yours, his own patience wearing thin as his desire builds.
Your cheeks burn with a blush as you quietly mumble, “I have a daddy kink…” His eyebrows raise slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement but he doesn’t comment, simply shakes his head in feigned disbelief and finally unzips his jeans.
You don’t waste any time, you pull down his boxers and his cock springs free, thick and hard, its sheer size both thrilling and nearly overwhelming. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as you take in every inch, every pulse seeming to echo the growing need inside you. Vulnerability and desire mix within you, and you can’t tear your gaze away, the sight stirring something deep and all-consuming. A quiet gasp slips past your lips, your cheeks flushing as the thought of him inside you settles heavily, making you ache.
The moment stretches, your anticipation growing unbearable, and before you can stop yourself, a loud, needy moan escapes, filling the room with the raw, unfiltered sound of your desire. It shocks you, how loudly you moaned, as if your body was acting on its own, unable to contain just how badly you need him. The sound reverberates in the quiet space, and even as you try to stifle it, the moans keep slipping out. Your eyes drink in every detail of his cock, your body throbbing with hunger and anticipation that knots in your stomach, urging you closer.
Your mouth waters as you stare, the craving growing stronger with every second. You trace the length of him with wide eyes, the thickness and veins seeming almost unreal, the girth larger than anything you’d imagined. The head is flushed, every throb pulsing with a heat that leaves you dizzy. “Fuck—fuck,” you whimper, voice trembling as disbelief and raw hunger mix in the words. You can barely believe the size, the thickness that promises to fill every part of you, your body reacting instinctively, the longing drawing you closer to him.
Mark chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement as he catches your reaction. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Not what you expected?” he asks, voice low and teasing, full of a quiet confidence that makes your cheeks burn even more.
You shake your head, feeling a shy smile forming as you bite back a small “no,” your voice barely above a whisper. “Respectfully,” you add, voice trembling, “nice guys don’t have big cocks.” The words spill out, almost involuntarily, your gaze still locked on him, unable to look away, entranced.
He chuckles again, shaking his head, his smirk deepening as he watches you. “Who said I’m a nice guy?” he murmurs, the words carrying a promise that sends a thrill through you. You don’t realise it now, but you’re going to regret saying that.
“Come here,” he whispers, his voice rough but soft, drawing you closer with a gentle pull. His hands slide up your back, finding the clasp of your bra, and in one smooth movement, he unhooks it. His gaze is dark and intense as the fabric slips away, his eyes fixated on the way your breasts fall free, the soft curve of your skin catching the low light. His lips part slightly, and you catch the way his breathing hitches, almost like he’s savoring the sight.
He doesn’t rush, doesn’t speak. Instead, his hands come up, fingers tracing along the swell of your chest before letting his palms cup and lift, making you gasp at the warmth and firmness of his touch. Each bounce, each subtle movement seems to captivate him, his gaze drinking in every detail as though he’s committing it to memory.
He doesn’t hold back, guiding your hips firmly as he slides your jeans and lace thong down in one fluid motion, leaving you both fully naked. You’re seated on his lap now, feeling every inch of his body pressed against yours, the heat between you almost unbearable. His cock rests beneath you, thick and solid, pressing up against your warmth, and you feel a pang of anticipation, desire twisting in your stomach. He watches you with a patient hunger, his hands resting at your hips, giving you the space to take him at your own pace.
Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, stretching you in a way that feels almost impossible. As you sink down, the sheer size of him has you gasping, his girth filling every inch, forcing your body to accommodate his length. You feel yourself stretch around him, the pressure building as you inch lower, and a strangled moan escapes your lips.
The fullness is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and an ache that borders on pain, and your hands grip his shoulders as if you’re afraid to let go. “God,” you whisper, barely able to speak. You stare at him in disbelief, feeling the sheer depth and thickness of him, every inch stretching you in ways you’ve never experienced. You’ve had a lot of sex, but you’ve never felt anything this big, this deep inside of you. Your voice trembles as you struggle to find words, the overwhelming sensation making it hard to breathe.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you adjust to him, your body reacting to the way he fills you so completely. “You’re… so big,” you murmur, voice cracking as your breathing quickens. Each inch you take seems to stretch you further, filling you more than you thought possible. He’s thick, almost too much to handle, and yet you can’t stop yourself from wanting every bit of him.
Mark’s gaze softens, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he watches the way you shake on top of him. His hands slide up to cradle your face, thumbs gently brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear, and whispers softly, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His voice is gentle, almost soothing, and his breath is warm against your skin. “Take your time, baby… let me feel you.”
Before you can fully adjust, he shifts his grip on your hips, and in one fluid motion, he flips the two of you, rolling you onto your back beneath him. The world spins for a brief second, your heart racing as you feel his weight press down, grounding you. His hands find your hips again, holding you steady, his eyes dark with intent as he leans over you, a soft smirk playing on his lips. You’re breathless, the depth of him now more intense as he angles himself above you, his gaze locked on yours as he slowly presses deeper
As he presses into you, the stretch is intense, nearly overwhelming. You feel the fullness, but it’s too much, and the ache borders on pain. Your hands fly up to cover your face as it twists in discomfort, trying to absorb the pressure and failing. “Mark, I—‘too big.’” You breathe out, barely able to get the words out as they’re forced through shallow gasps.
Mark looks down at you with the utmost care, his gaze soft and full of patience. He slides his cock out slowly, each inch easing the pressure, and it doesn’t take long—he’s barely inside of you. “That’s okay,” he whispers, voice low and comforting, brushing a few stray hairs from your face as you breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself. “We’ll just try again.” His words are so gentle, filled with such affection that it makes you dizzy, and you can’t help the small, shaky whimper that escapes you as you nod.
You look up at him, eyes searching his face, and he leans in close, pressing a soft, grounding kiss to your lips, his hands finding yours and gripping them firmly. “You think if I eat you out, it’ll make it easier for me to fuck you?” he murmurs, voice teasing, lips brushing yours.
You pout, feeling the need still thrumming inside you, and sigh, “Just want your cock.”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he kisses you again, trailing down your body. “And it’s all yours… just be patient with me, okay?” he whispers, his voice laced with warmth and care. He moves down, positioning his head in between your thighs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time as his grip on your hand remains, grounding you. His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers pressing firmly as he pushes your legs wider, his touch sending a thrill through you.
Without another word, his mouth descends on you, his tongue flicking over your clit with a deliberate, rough pressure that makes you gasp, every nerve ending igniting under his touch. His mouth moves with an intensity that’s both passionate and unyielding, his tongue tracing slow, sensual circles before pressing firmly, flicking against you with a skill that sends jolts of pleasure straight through your core. He doesn’t let up, lips sealing around your clit, sucking softly, then harder, dragging you deeper into bliss with every motion. Your hips buck against his face, desperate for more, and he growls softly in response, the vibration sending shivers up your spine as he anchors you in place, his grip firm and possessive.
You tug harder on his hair, pulling him even closer, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sinks his tongue inside you, thrusting and curling with a rhythm that leaves you gasping. He moves rougher, his tongue pressing deeper, tasting you with a hunger that’s almost primal, his hands sliding up to keep your thighs spread wide as he devours you, lost in the moment. Your legs tighten around his shoulders, locking him in place, and he responds with even more intensity, mouth working you harder, deeper, his lips brushing against your slick skin as his tongue finds your clit again, circling it with maddening precision.
With one final, perfectly timed flick of his tongue, the tension snaps, and you’re sent spiraling over the edge. Your body arches, shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, each pulse more intense than the last. Mark stays exactly where he is, his mouth locked on you, drawing out every last tremor, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from your body. His hands grip your thighs, possessive and steady, keeping you firmly in place as he savors every second of your release.
Even as your body goes limp beneath him, trembling and breathless, his tongue continues its slow, gentle strokes, easing you down from the high, until you’re left blissfully spent in his hands, every nerve tingling in the aftermath.
Mark’s gaze darkens as he presses a wet, lingering kiss right against your core. The way his tongue flicks over you sends an involuntary shiver up your spine, his mouth exploring you with slow, deliberate attention. His lips leave you breathless, a mix of pleasure and anticipation curling through your body as he pulls back, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth.
He straightens up, positioning himself at your entrance, his hand gripping your thigh firmly. “Ready for me again, baby?” he murmurs, voice a husky promise as he holds your gaze. With a slow, steady push, he slides inside, inch by inch, letting you feel the stretch, the delicious pressure as he fills you. His eyes flicker with intensity, every movement calculated, controlled. A low, satisfied groan escapes him as he presses further, savoring every moment as he sinks deeper, letting you feel every inch.
His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, the warmth of his mouth contrasting with the steady pressure below. “You feel so good,” he whispers against your lips, his words a low, soothing hum. His thrusts remain slow and unhurried, each one pushing deeper, brushing every sensitive spot, his cock moving with deliberate precision, heightening every sensation. His hand trails up, cradling the back of your neck as he kisses you again, letting the intensity build in the rhythm he sets, every movement designed to keep you on the edge, drawing out your pleasure with each slow, consuming thrust.
You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you, the combination of his gentle encouragement and the feeling of him stretching you making you feel vulnerable and cherished all at once. He watches you intently, his gaze darkening as he feels you around him. “God, you’re so tight for me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, rough whisper that sends a shiver through you. His hands grip your waist, holding you firmly as he moves slowly, letting you feel the full stretch, every inch of him pressing deeper, unhurried and deliberate.
“You’re filling me so perfectly,” you murmur, barely able to keep your voice steady, each slow, deliberate thrust making you shiver. “Please, don’t stop… I want all of you.” The words spill from your lips in a quiet plea, your body arching into him, craving the closeness, the depth.
He presses a tender kiss to your jaw, trailing soft kisses down your neck as you adjust to him, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through you. His hands rest at your waist, guiding you with a patience that contrasts the intensity of the moment. “Look at you,” he murmurs softly, a hint of awe in his voice. “Taking me so well like you were made for me.”
He hovers above you, his hands pressing firmly against your hips to keep you in place as he rolls his hips forward, each subtle movement drawing a soft cry from you. His touch is steady, grounding, his gaze fixed on yours with a smirk tugging at his lips. Leaning down, his mouth brushes against your ear, his breath warm and thick with satisfaction. “Just like that,” he whispers, voice low and controlled, laced with pride. “I knew you could take me… you’re doing so well.” His lips hover near your ear, his words fanning over your skin, deep and reassuring. He inches in further, each slow thrust emphasising the stretch, pushing you to feel every bit of him.
He groans softly, his lips capturing yours in a brief, hungry kiss, his mouth warm and possessive before he pulls back. With painstaking slowness, he sinks into you again, inch by inch, the stretch intense as your body instinctively tightens around him. Every shift of his hips sends a spark of pleasure coursing through you, his cock pressing deeper, thick and pulsing, letting you feel the full weight of him as he takes his time.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, voice rough with desire, his grip firm on your hips as he holds you steady. The deliberate pace keeps you teetering on the edge, the friction building as he fills you completely with each slow, controlled thrust. Unable to hold back, you lift your hips to meet his movements, grinding up against him, seeking more. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging in as you move with him, matching the rhythm he’s set, each roll of your hips bringing him deeper, sparking pleasure that leaves you gasping.
Your breath catches as you rock against him, the ache of desire driving you to push up, to take him further, your body arching in response to every deliberate thrust. “Please,” you whisper, the need undeniable as you move under him, craving the fullness, the heat of his skin against yours. Your breath catches, body arching instinctively, craving more, needing him to fill you fully. But he keeps his pace torturously steady, making you feel every inch as he fills you, pulling back just enough to leave you aching.
A low groan escapes him as he watches you, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “You want me to go harder, don’t you?” His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing over your skin as he holds you steady, grounding you beneath him, each touch leaving a warmth that only makes you crave him more.
You nod, lips parted in a soft gasp, eyes pleading. “Yes.” You whisper, voice trembling, the word escaping you in a quiet, desperate plea. “I need more…”
He smirks as he leans close, his breath hot against your skin, his voice a low, intoxicating growl. "I know how much you need it," he murmurs, each word dripping with control, teasing you with every deliberate thrust. The way he fills you-inch by inch-stretches you in a way that has your body clenching desperately around him, pushing you closer to the edge with every slow, deep movement.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders, clutching onto him, your breaths ragged as you finally let the word spill from your lips, barely a whisper. "Please, daddy," you gasp, voice trembling with need, the desperation in your tone sparking a darker look in his eyes.
"That’s my good girl," he growls. The slow, torturous build finally shatters as he lets go, hips snapping forward with a force that has you gasping, every thrust deeper, harder. His grip on you is firm, fingers digging into your skin as he watches you tremble, a possessive edge in his gaze as he fills you again and again.
“God, look at you,” he growls, voice thick with satisfaction, eyes heavy with desire. “Taking every inch… like you’re made for me.” His voice is low, a murmur that’s somehow gentle despite the roughness of his thrusts. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, his pace relentless, the force of each thrust making you moan, your cries mixing with his own low groans.
He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckles softly, taking in the desperate whimpers escaping you. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, the mockery gone, his voice softer, filled with something deeper. “I’ve got you… don’t worry.” He pushes into you deeper, grinding his hips in a way that has you arching, needing every inch.
“Please… don’t stop,” you gasp, voice breaking as he pounds into you, his movements leaving you breathless, your body clinging to his as he fills you again and again, rougher, harder, until the tension is unbearable.
He watches you, his gaze warm yet possessive, hand slipping down to press between your thighs, fingers teasing as he brings you closer to the edge. “Such a tight pussy,” he breathes, voice low and reverent as he watches you fall apart beneath him, his hands gripping your thighs to spread you open as he drives into you with raw, unrelenting force. “So beautiful… so perfect.”
His hips slam into you with an unrestrained rhythm, each thrust harder and faster than the last, sending shockwaves through your body. Your legs tighten around his waist, locking him in as he finds that perfect angle, hitting it relentlessly, making you see stars. The pleasure is overwhelming, building with every stroke, your body arching up to meet his as he drives deeper, every inch filling you completely, stretching you in ways that make you gasp. Your nails scrape down his back as you cling to him, losing all control, the sensation pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your breath catches, turning into desperate, breathless moans that rise in pitch as he keeps going, unrelenting. You feel yourself spiralling, every nerve on fire as the tension coils tight. Just when you can’t hold back anymore, his pace quickens, and you scream his name. “Oh god, yes! Right there.” The sounds that release from you were raw and uncontrolled, echoing around you as your body clenches around him, your release crashing over you in waves. He doesn’t stop, his thrusts hard and deep, riding out every pulse, keeping you suspended in that overwhelming high, both of you completely lost in each other.
“Look at me,” he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your hip as he pulls back slightly before sinking back in, his gaze locked onto yours, absorbing each gasp that escapes your lips. He presses his hand down on your lower stomach, a bulge forming beneath his palm as he fills you to the hilt. “You feel me here?” he murmurs, voice thick, watching your reaction as the pressure intensifies. “That’s all for you.” The sensation makes you tremble, every nerve coming alive under his touch, grounding you in the overwhelming intensity of each slow, deep movement.
“I could stay like this forever, buried inside you,” he says, each word reverberating through you as his hand stays firm against your stomach, feeling every thrust. His hands glide up your back, pulling you closer, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss that contrasts the raw intensity below. “I want you to feel every inch, baby,” he whispers, his gaze never leaving yours, rocking into you deeply, each stroke unhurried but consuming. “This is all for you.”
The pressure builds, overwhelming and all-consuming, and you feel yourself clenching tighter around him, unable to hold back. “I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking as the words tumble out, raw and desperate. The sensation is electric, each thrust pushing you closer, and he grips your hips, pulling you down to meet him with every powerful stroke.
“Do it,” he growls, his voice thick with need, his gaze locked onto yours as he watches you unravel. His movements quicken, his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you to the limit, and just as your release crashes over you, he lets go, spilling into you as he presses deep, holding you against him. The heat of his release fills you, his moans low and guttural as he pulses within you, every inch of him flooding you completely, and you tremble beneath him, gasping for air as the waves of pleasure leave you both breathless and spent.
“Good girl,” he whispers against your lips, his voice soft yet filled with a lingering possessiveness that leaves you flustered, speechless, and overwhelmed by the intensity of what just happened. The warmth of his touch, the weight of his gaze—it all feels so intimate, so unlike anything you’ve experienced before.
Before you know it, he’s lifting you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly to the shower. The warmth of the water surrounds you as he gently cleans you, his hands moving with a tender care that soothes every aching muscle. He massages your shoulders, trails body wash over your skin, and you feel completely cared for in his embrace. This is new, this level of affection and attention after something so intense. With Jeno, it was always straight to sleep, never this depth. But with Mark, you find yourself spending the night held close, his arms wrapped around you, feeling safe, satisfied, and genuinely cherished for the first time in a long while.
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The morning sun spilled gently through the curtains, casting a soft glow that illuminated the room with a warm, amber light. You were wrapped securely in Mark’s arms, the comforting presence of his body intertwined with yours under the soft sheets. For the first time in ages, you woke feeling completely at peace, savoring the best sleep you’d had in so long. The thought flickered through your mind that you could definitely get used to mornings like this.
However, tranquility shattered the instant you opened your eyes and saw Karina standing at the foot of the bed, her eyes wide and fixed on both of you. Panic surged through your veins, and a scream escaped your lips, sharp and loud. Karina, equally startled, screamed back, the sound echoing in the small room.
Mark, awoken by the commotion, sat up abruptly. His eyes darted to Karina, but he remained silent, assessing the situation with a calm that contrasted sharply with the chaos of the moment.
She stood frozen, her eyes darting between you and Mark, her expression a complex tapestry of shock, confusion, and something deeper—perhaps hurt. The air felt charged, heavy with words unspoken and questions unasked.
“Karina, I—” Your voice broke as you scrambled for words, the initial panic giving way to a deep-seated embarrassment. You clutched the sheet to your chest, acutely aware of your nakedness.
Mark’s hand found yours under the sheets, giving a reassuring squeeze. Unlike your visible distress, he remained unnervingly calm, his gaze steady on Karina. “It’s not what it looks like,” You started, but the cliché sounded hollow even to your own ears.
Karina’s eyebrows knitted together, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt as she struggled to find the right words. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, the struggle evident in her face. Finally, managing to push past the lump in her throat, she asked in a choked voice, “How long?”
You could feel Mark tense beside you, the muscles in his body tightening as he absorbed the weight of her question, laden with implications and unspoken accusations. He remained silent, however, allowing you to handle the conversation, understanding his unfamiliarity with Karina meant it was not his place to speak.
“Only once, we’ve only fucked once so far.” You began, your voice soft, attempting to keep the situation calm, “can we talk about this outside?” The bedsheet clutched tightly in your hands, you tried to convey sincerity, hoping she’d agree to a more private discussion away from the charged atmosphere of the bedroom.
You watched as Karina’s gaze shifted to you, her eyes searching yours. There was a sadness there, deep and poignant, hinting at more than just the shock of the discovery. Swallowing hard, you slipped from the bed, wrapping yourself in the sheet and stepping toward her.
“Please, Karina, don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hands reached out, touching her arm lightly. “I know this is a lot, but we didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
You grabbed Karina’s hand, the urgency to maintain privacy pressing upon you. With a gentle tug, you led her towards the door, placing a finger to your lips to signal the need for silence. Together, you tiptoed across the room, your whispers merging with the soft creaks of the floorboards, ensuring your voices remained low enough to evade Mark’s ears.
Karina’s mood shifted abruptly, leaving you momentarily disoriented as her shock morphed into a whirlwind of excitement. Her hands came together with a clap, her eyes widening with a childlike glee as she squealed, “How did this happen?”
You laughed, the sound mingling with a sigh of relief. Though you weren’t entirely sure if her excitement was genuine, it was certainly a welcome change from the suspicion and disappointment. “He just came to my room, and we started talking, and one thing led to another,” you mumbled, keeping your voice low, still half-wrapped in the sheet.
You let out a breath, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you recalled the unexpected turn of events. “It was unexpected, he sked if he could help with my assignment, so I said yeah. I took photos of him, and then he took my camera and started taking photos of me. He asked me to take my clothes off, and yeah… it just went off from there.”
Her eyes widened even further, and she gasped dramatically, leaning in closer. “His cock?”
You stifled a moan at the memory, nodding slightly at her unspoken question. “It’s so big.”
“And how was he?” Karina leaned in, her curiosity piqued as if she were gathering details for a juicy story.
“He was good, yeah, really good,” you confessed, your cheeks heating up as you remembered the intensity. “He definitely knows how to handle a girl. Clearly not his first time.” You paused, biting your lip as you considered how much to share. “And… he was holding back a bit because, you know, it was a lot for me at first. It took a few tries for him to even get fully inside of me.”
Karina’s eyes sparkled with a mix of astonishment and amusement. “So, are you guys, like, a thing now, or was this a one-time thing?”
You hesitated, the reality of the situation settling in. “I’m not sure yet. We haven’t really defined anything. It just happened so fast, and now I’m trying to wrap my head around it all.” A rush of boldness swept over you as you added, “But honestly, I wouldn’t mind fucking him more. He feels really good inside of me.”
Karina nodded, her expression turning a tad more serious. “Just be careful, okay? I mean, it’s exciting and all, but don’t get swept away without considering the consequences.”
You appreciated her concern, knowing it stemmed from a place of friendship and care. “I will,” you assured her, feeling a mixture of gratitude and caution. “Thanks, Karina. It means a lot to have you looking out for me.”
After reassuring Karina that you would catch up with her properly later, you offer her a smile as she heads downstairs to grab some breakfast. The moment she’s out of sight, you let out a deep sigh of relief and make your way back into the bedroom. The air feels heavy, saturated with the lingering tension of the earlier encounter.
Mark is still lying in bed, his eyes closed, seemingly lost in thought or perhaps trying to grasp the remnants of sleep. As you approach, he senses your presence and without opening his eyes, reaches out to pull you back into the warmth of his embrace. His skin is warm against yours, but it does little to soothe the chill of apprehension that has crept into your bones. Gently, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions.
“All okay?” he whispers, his voice low and concerned as he pulls you closer, seeking to envelop you in his security.
You nod against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing steadying your own. “Yeah, I just told her not to tell anyone until we figure out what this is.” Your voice is a mix of determination and worry, echoing the complexity of your feelings.
He sighs, a sound that carries a mix of relief and something else—perhaps resignation or a touch of dread for the complications yet to come. “Okay, good,” he murmurs, his arms tightening around you as if to fortify you both against the challenges ahead.
As you lay there, tucked into Mark’s embrace, the room fills with a silence that speaks louder than words. The conversation with Karina, while out of earshot, hangs over you like a specter, its implications darkening the edges of this quiet moment. The reality of your situation, of the secret you now both carried, was weighty and complex. You wonder about the fragility of this newfound attraction you had for Mark, about how the truth, once disclosed, might alter everything.
His steady heartbeat against your ear is a constant reminder of the present, of the choices you’ve made, and the ones still looming ahead. Mark’s hand moves to stroke your hair gently, a soothing gesture that belies the anxiety that you both feel. “Stop worrying and just close your eyes, get some sleep,” he says soothingly, his voice a calming balm. “I got you.”
You press closer, feeling the heat of his naked body against yours, a vivid reminder of how you fucked earlier even after your bath, when you both surrendered to a series of intense, passionate rounds. “Okay,” you whisper back, letting the firmness of his embrace and the sincerity in his words soothe you towards sleep.
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The cool autumn air nipped at your skin as you made your way to the gymnasium for another away match. Despite the warmth and safety you had felt wrapped in Mark’s arms earlier that morning, reality beckoned. The game was due to start within the hour, and the atmosphere around the court was buzzing with anticipation.
As you approached, the scene unfolded vibrantly before you. The team was already on the court, running drills and warming up with a focused intensity. Nearby, your fellow cheerleaders were gathered, practicing their routines and cheering, their voices rising in synchronized chants that filled the air with excitement.
You slipped into your cheer uniform with a sense of resignation, feeling the familiar snugness of the sleek, blue and gold ensemble that hugged your figure and ended in a flared skirt. Although the outfit usually made you feel pretty and empowered, today it felt more like a costume you were obligated to wear. As you tied your hair up and secured your pompoms, it wasn’t giddiness that washed over you, but a sense of duty; you were dragging yourself through the motions, mustering the energy to perform your role despite not wanting to be there.
The game kicked off with high energy as you took your place on the sidelines. From here, you had a clear view of both the game and the entrance. You noticed Jeno frequently glancing towards the door with an expression of mixed anticipation and dread. When his father finally appeared, taking a seat in the stands with a stern posture and an unyielding gaze, you saw Jeno’s demeanor change instantly. His movements on the court became forceful, overly aggressive as if each pass and shot were a desperate plea for approval.
“Jeno seems really tense today, doesn’t he?” Karina leaned over and whispered to you as she noticed his aggressive gameplay.
“Yeah, his dad just showed up,” you replied, nodding towards the imposing figure in the stands.
Jeno’s father was a strict, uptight man with sharp features that seemed permanently etched into a frown. His presence was commanding, and his eyes rarely showed emotion, giving him a cold, intimidating aura. You had seen him a few times before but had always avoided interaction; his severe demeanor and the tension that followed him were enough to keep you at a distance.
As the game unfolded, Jeno and Mark, despite the clear tension and their notably strained relationship, surprisingly found a rhythm together on the court. Their coordinated movements and strategic plays became increasingly effective, slowly winning over the crowd.
Donghyuck’s voice boomed over the speakers, narrating the match with enthusiasm, “And what a play by the brothers! Despite the family drama we’ve all heard about, Mark and Jeno are turning up the heat on the court!”
Mark executed a swift, strategic pass to Jeno, aiming to capitalize on a brief opening in the opposing team’s defense. However, under the weight of his father’s intense scrutiny and the mounting pressure, Jeno fumbled the catch. The ball slipped through his fingers, rolling off to be intercepted by a player from the opposing team. This mistake quickly turned into a counterattack, resulting in the opposing team scoring a crucial point. The crowd’s reaction was immediate—murmurs of disappointment and frustration filled the air, mirroring the dismay on Jeno’s face as he glanced apologetically towards Mark.
His voice cut sharply through the commotion of the crowd, not with generic cheers but with pointed, critical commands. “Jeno, focus! Stop getting distracted!” he barked, loud enough for not just Jeno but everyone nearby to hear. His words, filled with frustration and command, resonated across the court, causing some of the other spectators to shift uncomfortably in their seats. The intense scrutiny and public criticism only added to the tense atmosphere, underlining the challenging dynamics that Jeno was grappling with during the game.
“Tempers are really heating up on the court!” Donghyuck observed, his tone reflecting the palpable tension filling the gym. “It’s clear there’s a lot more at stake here than just points and plays.”
The tension reached a boiling point when an opposing player fouled Jeno aggressively. Mark instinctively stepped in, his reaction quick and protective. The situation quickly spiraled into a physical altercation, with teammates and referees rushing to intervene. The crowd gasped and murmured as the players were pulled apart, the underlying familial pressures and frustrations manifesting in the chaos on the court.
After the game, as the crowd began to disperse, you saw Jeno’s father approach him, his voice stern as he critiqued Jeno for his “lack of control” on the court. His cold dismissal of his son’s efforts was painful to witness, and as you watched, your understanding of the toxic dynamics within their family deepened.
Feeling a profound sympathy for Mark, who had tried to protect his brother despite the personal cost, you decided to approach him. Mark was sitting on the bench, nursing a bruise that had formed on his arm and a visible injury on his face. You walked over cautiously, your approach gentle, trying to convey your concern without overwhelming him.
“Hey, that was some game,” you started, your tone deliberately light but tinged with genuine concern at his injuries.
He glanced up, managing a weak smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s nothing serious. Just a scratch,” he murmured, referring to the bruising that was starting to bloom along his arm and face.
“Do you wanna come with me?” he asked suddenly, his voice low as he stood up stiffly from the bench.
“Where?” you replied, curious about his sudden urge to escape.
“I don’t know where. I just need to get away from here,” he confessed, his gaze drifting towards the direction to the locker room, a quiet spot away from the remaining spectators.
Following his lead, the door shut behind you with a definitive thud, sealing off the outside world. Mark turned to you, his expression a mix of vulnerability and need. Without a word, he stepped closer, reducing the space between you. His gaze locked onto yours for a brief moment, then his hands found the small of your back, pulling you firmly against him. In one swift, fluid motion, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was hard and urgent, his mouth moving against yours with a force that spoke of deep desperation.
Mark’s hands moved to your waist, his grip both firm and gentle. He lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. The closeness intensified, your bodies pressing together in a way that felt both thrilling and dangerous. He began to sit down on a nearby bench, pulling you even closer, but a sudden rush of awareness made you pull back. Shaking your head, you tried to slide off his lap, realizing the inevitable outcome—a quick, intense sexual encounter with him, the thought of his cock sliding into you making you pause. You were both intensely horny, and the risk of being caught only added to the tension.
Mark, sensing your hesitation, tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin with a silent plea. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a firm, urgent kiss that conveyed his desire clearly. As he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered, “Stay.” The firmness of his erection pressed against you, a clear and insistent signal of his arousal. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his need, and the undeniable physical connection sparking between you, your resolve melted away. You let out a soft sigh of relief and settled back down onto him, no longer able to resist the compelling force of his touch. The heat of his body enveloped you, driving away any lingering doubts as you both succumbed to the thrilling urgency of the moment.
At his gentle coaxing, you had moved closer, positioning yourself to straddle his lap while being mindful of his injuries. As you settled onto him, his hands rested lightly on your hips, guiding you down with care. The smile he gave you was tender, almost grateful, and you couldn’t help but return it with a sweet, somewhat mischievous grin, secretly pleased that he had convinced you to sit so close. The proximity was immediate and electric; the contact sparked a palpable energy that coursed through you both, your heartbeat syncing with his in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.
Your gaze flickers briefly toward the first aid kit positioned on a nearby bench. Reaching for the first aid kit, you felt the shift in his breathing as you moved, his chest rising more sharply against yours. “You don’t have to,” he murmured, his hands sliding to your lower back, holding you securely, almost as if he was afraid you’d pull away.
“It’s okay. I want to take care of you,” you responded, your voice barely above a whisper as you opened the kit and began to extract the necessary supplies. You turned back to face him, meeting his gaze. There was a warmth there, inviting and deep, pulling you in. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was a gentle brush, tender but laden with all the emotions stirring between you.
Mark responded instinctively, his lips parting slightly under yours as one of his hands moved to cradle the back of your neck, guiding the kiss into something less cautious, more open. You could feel the roughness of his palm, a stark contrast to the softness of the kiss. His other hand traveled up, tracing the line of your spine through the fabric of your uniform, sending shivers of anticipation skittering down your back.
The air was charged as you carefully wrapped the bandage around his arm, the close proximity intensifying every subtle touch. Each circle of the bandage over his skin brought your fingers grazing against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the tension in his muscles responding to your care. His sharp intake of breath when the bandage pulled slightly too tight made you pause.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice a soft whisper laden with concern, noticing his wince.
He shook his head gently, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of pain and a deeper, more intense longing. “It’s okay, not your fault.” He reassured you, his voice rough, edged with a raw emotion that sent shivers down your spine. His hands then moved from your hips, gliding up to your thighs, his touch deliberate and increasingly bold, pressing you closer against him.
Mark’s hands moved with purpose as he slid them under your skirt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your thighs. He pressed and kneaded your flesh with a fervent urgency, each movement deliberate and intense. His touch was skilled, confident as he explored, drawing you in tightly against him. Your bodies pressed closer, nearly fusing as his hands continued their assertive dance over your skin, heightening the physical connection between you.
The locker room was filled with the sound of your heavy, mingled breaths, punctuated by the subtle rustling of fabric as his hands explored further. The growing heat between you was palpable, Mark’s arousal pressing firmly against you, signaling his desire. A soft giggle escaped your lips, smothered by his in a kiss that was both hungry and profound.
“Baby… why don’t you ride my cock?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with unchecked desire, each word vibrating through you.
You pulled back slightly, your cheeks flushed with a mix of desire and bashfulness. “In here? People are gonna walk in on us and see us,” you whispered back, the thrill of being caught adding a sharp edge to your arousal.
With a nonchalant shrug and a dark, intense look in his eyes, he repeated, “I don’t mind,” his voice deep and seductive. It was an offer of sheer recklessness, and as you gazed into his eyes, you felt a daring part of yourself responding with equal fervor.
“I can’t believe you still have the energy, especially after this match.” You teased, your breath hot against his lips,
Mark, feeling your hesitation, intensified his grip, his hands firm on your hips as he pulled you closer. He kissed you deeply, his lips urgent against yours, effectively silencing any lingering doubts. As he broke the kiss, his face stayed close, his breath mingling with yours. “I’ll always have time for you,” he whispered huskily, his voice thick with desire. His hands roamed assertively over your body, tracing the curve of your spine, then sliding forward to the edge of your cheer uniform. His touch was deliberate, igniting sparks of arousal that radiated through your core. The hardness pressing against you was impossible to ignore, and his movements suggested he was more than ready to continue despite the day’s exertions.
As the heat between you intensified, you suddenly felt overwhelmed. Despite Mark’s firm grip, you managed to slide off his lap, your cheeks burning with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. He sighed deeply, a low moan escaping him as he leaned back, his head tipping upwards and his eyes closing in frustration.
“I—we should probably head back to the motel,” you stammered, your words tumbling out in a rush. “There’s the curfew, and…” Your voice trailed off, not quite sure how to navigate the sudden shift in atmosphere.
Mark opened his eyes and looked at you, a flash of understanding crossing his features before he sighed again, resigning himself to the reality of the situation. He stood up, the lines of his body tense yet controlled. Moving closer, he wrapped an arm securely around you, his touch now protective rather than persuasive. “Let’s go then,” he said, his tone gentle.
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As Mark draped his arm around your shoulders, the warmth of his touch contrasted with the cool air of the nearly empty gymnasium. The game was over, but the echo of bouncing basketballs still lingered as you both made your way towards the motel. Despite the intense moments in the locker room where Mark had coaxed and almost persuaded you to cross the line, you hadn’t ended up having sex. Yet, that didn’t diminish his touchy, affectionate nature that enveloped you now.
His lips found yours again, drawing a giggle from you as his kisses landed with a mix of playfulness and passion. He stopped walking, right in the middle of the gymnasium, and his hands cupped your face as he kissed you deeply, passionately. You responded without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, sinking into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the firmness of his body against yours.
But as the heat between you intensified, reality nudged at your consciousness. You were literally in public, and the risk of being seen was too great. Reluctantly, you pulled away with a jolt, gasping for air. Your breath came in heavy, uneven bursts as you whispered, almost fearfully, “People will see us.”
Mark smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body a solid barrier against any lingering hesitation. “Look around, no one’s here,” he murmured against your ear, his voice a soothing whisper that steadied your racing heart. His reassurance, soft and certain, drew you back into his gravitational pull.
He kissed your lips again, softer this time, a tender brush that promised more but ended too soon, pulling back just enough to let you catch your breath yet not enough to let you retreat. “See? It’s just me and you here,” he reassured you with a gentle smile.
“Just me and you,” you repeated, your voice a whisper as you leaned in closer, your forehead resting against his.
“Good girl,” he affirmed softly, his breath warm against your skin, his approval sending a shiver down your spine.
Emboldened, you closed the small distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss filled with all the pent-up desire of the evening. He chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through you, and met your desperation with equal fervour, his kiss deepening, hands roaming over your back as if memorising every curve.
A cough shattered the intimate atmosphere, snapping your heads towards the sound. The sudden intrusion spiked anxiety through your veins, a feeling that only intensified as you saw who was watching you with a judgmental yet amused expression: Lee Taeyong, Jeno and Mark’s father.
“Let’s go,” Mark muttered tersely. He didn’t acknowledge his father, didn’t meet his eyes. It was as if Taeyong were invisible to him, a poignant reversal of how Taeyong had always treated Mark—as if he never existed in his heart, never seen as his son.
Mark gripped your hand, his touch firm, and began to walk in the opposite direction, but you froze when Taeyong’s rough, sneering voice cut through the tension.
“Jumping from one Lee to the next, aren’t we? I never took you for a whore, Y/N.” He said, his voice laden with a contemptuous snicker that echoed through the empty gym. His eyes scanned you with a cold, scrutinizing look that felt like an overt accusation of your character.
Mark’s response was immediate; his knuckles whitened as he balled his hands into fists, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he fought the urge to confront his father physically. Yet, he managed to maintain a semblance of calm, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Mark’s voice was low, dangerously controlled. “Don’t even look at her. You have no right to judge, not after everything. Watch it, Taeyong.”
The intensity in Mark’s voice was unmistakable, a clear warning laced with years of pent-up frustration and anger. His stance was protective, placing himself subtly between you and his father, his body language declaring that he wouldn’t tolerate any more insults.
Grabbing your hand, he pulled you away firmly, his steps quick and decisive as he led you towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, his voice still tense but softer now, directed only at you. As you walked away, the weight of his father’s words lingered, but Mark’s defense reassured you, his loyalty clear and unwavering in the face of his father’s provocation.
The cold air hit your faces as you stepped outside, the gym’s heavy atmosphere replaced by the night’s sharp chill. Your mind was racing, anxiety swirling within as the reality of Taeyong’s potential backlash began to set in. It was undeniable—Taeyong knowing about you and Mark could never be good. You feared he would use this revelation against you, perhaps even as a weapon in some twisted game of control.
As you glanced at Mark, you saw the changes in him: his usually expressive eyes were now stormy and distant, his jaw set in a hard line. The grip he had on your hand tightened, not painfully, but with a protective intensity that was both comforting and slightly alarming. He was silent as you walked, each step seeming to take him further into his own turbulent thoughts.
The silence between you stretched, filled only with the echo of your footsteps and the distant hum of the city around you. The tension from the confrontation hung heavily, a foreboding shadow that neither of you could shake off.
As you reached the car, Mark broke the heavy silence, his voice low and tinged with regret. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said, his expression somber. “Don’t listen to him, okay? Not a word he says.”
“It’s not your fault,” you replied softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, trying to ease the weight of the situation he carried.
Mark shook his head slightly, a determined edge to his voice as he looked you directly in the eyes. “No, but don’t believe a word that idiot says. It’s all just noise.” His hand reached up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, a protective gesture that softened his stern expression.
“I know,” you murmured, feeling the solidarity between you strengthening despite the shadows of the night’s events.
As you drove through the quiet streets, a gnawing fear took hold. You found yourself praying that Taeyong wouldn’t escalate things further, especially not involving Jeno. The uncertainty of what lay ahead left you uneasy, the comfort of Mark’s presence a small solace against the potential storm that might be brewing.
genre — angst, smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love
synopsis — mark lee goes from being the quiet kid at the river court to the star basketball player on campus, reigniting old tensions with his brother, jeno. as jeno’s girlfriend, you’re pulled into the rivalry, but it’s mark who captivates you. his touch, his presence—he stirs something deep inside you that you can’t shake. as the tension between the brothers grows, so does your forbidden connection with mark, forcing you to confront where your heart—and body—truly belong.
chapter contents/warnings — college au, small town vibes, 2000s teen show vibes, this fic is heavily based on one tree hill, reader is in a relationship with jeno but it’s far from healthy or loving, depictions of lust and physical connection rather than emotional intimacy, slow burn with emotional (and sexual) tension between reader and mark, basketball is a heavy theme, mark being a key player, reader uses drugs and drinks to avoid facing her emotions, struggles with communication and vulnerability, messy dynamics with themes of abandonment and insecurity, escapism, toxic sibling rivalry between jeno and mark, oooh guys jeno is a jerk! bad boyfriend jeno, explicit sexual content involving rough and emotionally detached interactions with jeno, reader makes out with mark, soft mark, emo boy mark, confident mark, understated and hot mark, references to drug and alcohol use as coping mechanisms, swearing, explicit language and competitive sports tension.
[fic ml]
ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN
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The air in the room is thick and hazy, the low-hanging smoke curling in lazy spirals above your heads, seeping into the fabric of your clothes and the sheets. The bedside table is cluttered with half-empty bottles—beers, vodka mixers—and a vape pen with a fading light. The faint scent of weed lingers, clinging to the mess of discarded clothes on the floor. It should feel comforting, familiar, but it doesn’t. Everything feels muted, dulled, like you’re watching your life from a distance, the numbness settling deeper with each passing second.
Jeno lies beside you, shirtless, his body warm against yours. Your head rests on his chest, where his heartbeat thuds unevenly, just as it always has—never steady enough to soothe you, never grounding like you wanted it to be. Tonight, it feels even more erratic, like something inside him is pulling further away. Your fingers trace lazy circles over his skin, the motion slow, almost mechanical. It’s a routine now—this closeness that never truly feels close.
He’s quiet, too quiet, and it irritates you more than it should. You inhale sharply, the vape pen slipping between your lips before you exhale through your nose. Shifting closer, you press a kiss against his neck, letting your lips linger longer than usual, hoping he’ll respond. But there’s nothing—not a sigh, not a flicker of acknowledgment. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest, his mind somewhere far beyond the room. You pull away, frustrated, the weight of the past hour pressing down on you.
“Jeno,” you murmur, your voice catching slightly, as if the words are stuck in your throat. Your lips linger near his jaw, hoping for a reaction, for something to pull him back to you. But all you feel is the faint twitch of his hand on your waist, a gesture that once held desire but now feels empty, mechanical. It’s not what you’re looking for, not tonight.
You move again, this time more insistent, straddling his waist, your hands pressing against his chest, trying to ground yourself—or maybe trying to ground him. You tilt his chin toward you, forcing his eyes to meet yours, but they’re glassy, distant, reflecting the dull light of the lamp more than any real emotion. “Are you even here?” you ask, half-joking, but the frustration behind your words cuts through the haze in the air.
“Yeah,” he mutters, but there’s no conviction in his voice. His eyes flicker to the ceiling again, avoiding yours, like he’s searching for an answer there that he can’t find in you.
You let out a sharp breath, your fingers tightening on his chest as you lean down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that’s supposed to feel familiar, intimate. But even then, his response is slow, almost hesitant, like he’s going through the motions, doing what’s expected but feeling none of it.
Your heart sinks a little, and you pull back just enough to study his face, the way his jaw tenses and his gaze remains distant. The dim light casts long shadows across his features, making him look older, more worn down than he should. Something is eating at him, gnawing at the edges of whatever you have left between you.
“What’s wrong with you?” The words come out more accusatory than you intend, but the irritation bubbling inside you won’t let it rest. You both know what this is—it’s been like this for months now. Physical, surface-level. No connection. No real emotion. But tonight, it feels worse. Heavier.
He finally shifts beneath you, his fingers brushing against your hip, but there’s no spark in the touch, no warmth. “It’s nothing,” he says, his voice thin, barely more than a whisper.
“You always say that,” you mutter, the words bitter as they leave your mouth. You push yourself off of him, sitting at the edge of the bed, your hands in your lap as you glance over at the cluttered mess around you. Bottles, smoke, scattered clothes. It’s all a blur. “Is this really what we are now? Me trying, and you always somewhere else?”
You run a hand through your hair, glancing over your shoulder at him. Jeno doesn’t answer right away. He just rubs his face with his hand, his other arm falling limp beside him, like even the effort of responding is too much. “It’s just the game tomorrow,” he mumbles, but his words lack conviction.
“The game?” You repeat, incredulous. You turn to face him fully now, your frustration spilling over. “You’re thinking about basketball right now? We’re here, and all you care about is some stupid game?”
Jeno sits up, finally breaking the contact between you. His hands are tight, clenched in the sheets as he avoids your gaze. “It’s not just the game,” he snaps, his voice sharper now, the edge of something deeper cutting through. “It’s Mark.”
The name lands heavier than you expect. Mark Lee. Jeno’s half-brother. The one he rarely mentions, the one who has always been at the edges of your awareness but you’ve never had a reason to think about him. You’ve seen him around but only from a distance. He was never at the parties, never a part of the crowd Jeno ran with, always separate. always… distant. Mark’s never really mattered to you. Until now.
“What about him?” You ask, your voice slower, more careful.
Jeno lets out a short, bitter laugh. “He’s back,” he says, the frustration creeping into his voice.
“Back how?” You mumble, feeling the tension building. Mark had been around since you and Jeno were children but he had always been a part of the background, you never expected that to change.
Jeno shifts beside you, you watch his jaw clench, his fists tightening on the sheets. “Back into my life. Out of nowhere. He’s on the team now—just showed up like he had something to prove, and Coach didn’t waste a second. Benched me, gave him my spot.” The words are clipped, tight with barely concealed anger.
You sit there, trying to process it. You’ve seen him before, alone at the river court after hours, earbuds in, completely disconnected from the world you and Jeno are a part of. Calm, composed, like nothing touches him. It strikes you how different he is — how he’s always stood apart from Jeno’s chaos.
He pauses, jaw clenched, and you can feel the anger bubbling underneath, the years of resentment suddenly in the open. “My dad’s losing it. He never wanted Mark around. Hated him from the beginning—he’s always seen him as the mistake, the one thing he can’t stand to face. But now Mark’s back, and it’s like this unspoken challenge. Like Mark’s here to prove he’s better, or he can take everything that’s mine.”
You shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond to the intensity of his words. “Jeno… I’m sure it’s not that deep. It’s literally just basketball.”
His gaze snaps to you, deadpan. Anger flickers in his expression, a tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there moments before. You’ve said the wrong thing. You can feel it. He looks at you like you don’t get it—like you don’t understand him at all.
There’s something wild in his eyes now, something untamed. “It’s never just been basketball,” he says, voice sharp, frustration lacing every word. “He’s always wanted everything I have. He’s always been there, lurking. And now he’s coming for everything—my spot, my life.” He pauses, his voice dropping lower, quieter, almost as if he’s afraid to say it out loud. “And you.”
The words hang heavy in the air, sinking into the silence that stretches between you. You stare at him, stunned, trying to process what he’s just said. And you. A chill runs through you. For a moment, you don’t know how to respond, how to make sense of what he’s implying.
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Jeno pulls up to the river court erratically, tires skidding on the gravel as he parks. The way he moves—quick, aggressive—mirrors the tension that’s been building between him and Mark for days. You’d rather be anywhere but here, surrounded by the weight of this impending showdown, but for Jeno, this is his element. He thrives in moments like these, where all eyes are on him, where the crowd fuels his need for attention and validation. Every glance, every whispered conversation from the sidelines—Jeno drinks it all in, the girls batting their eyes at him only adding to his confidence.
You feel the stares too. You and Jeno aren’t just well-known—you’re desired. The kind of couple everyone talks about, whispers about behind your backs. People want to be you or be with you. You’ve seen the way their eyes follow you both, lingering a little too long, filled with envy and something darker. It’s intoxicating, usually. But tonight, the attention feels heavier, more suffocating, like it’s pressing down on you, trapping you in this moment where everything feels like it’s about to break.
The river court itself is buzzing, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. The sky is a muted purple as dusk settles in, casting a hazy glow over the court. The river runs just beyond, the sound of water rushing in the background, a soft but constant reminder of the tension flowing through this moment. The court is cracked, worn from years of use, but it has a certain rawness to it—gritty, real. The streetlights flicker to life as people gather along the edges, their shadows long and looming over the pavement. There’s a strange energy in the air, a mix of excitement and unease, as more people file in. Jeno’s supporters are far bigger, louder, their voices filling the space. They want a show, and Jeno is ready to give it to them.
“Welcome to the river court showdown!” Lee Donghyuck’s voice cuts through the murmurs, playful and dramatic as he addresses the growing crowd. You don’t know him well—he’s Mark’s best friend, always lingering in the background. His narration carries a light-hearted tone, but the way his eyes flick between Mark and Jeno makes it clear: this is personal. “Ladies and gentlemen, the stakes are high, and you can feel the intensity in the air. We’ve got a battle of the brothers tonight. Mark Lee, our underdog, taking on the one and only Jeno Lee.”
Your gaze shifts to Jeno as he steps onto the court, confidence radiating from him as he bounces the basketball in his hands, his eyes scanning the crowd like a predator surveying his territory. Across from him, Mark stands still, calm. He doesn’t thrive on the attention like Jeno does—he doesn’t even seem to notice the crowd. His focus is entirely on the game, his eyes sharp, determined.
Donghyuck’s voice carries on, “In one corner, we have Jeno—star player, campus legend. And in the other, Mark—cool, calm, and collected, with everything to lose.” There’s a hint of admiration in his tone when he talks about Mark, and you catch yourself paying closer attention to him too. You’ve never really noticed Mark before, but now, as he steps forward, there’s something about the way he carries himself that draws you in. The quiet confidence, the determination in his eyes… it’s hard not to watch him.
The game starts fast. Jeno wastes no time, dribbling aggressively, his body coiled with energy, every movement sharp, intentional. Mark, on the other hand, is methodical, almost serene in the way he moves, his eyes never leaving the ball. Jeno talks trash as they play, his voice loud enough for the crowd to hear. “You don’t belong here, Mark. This isn’t your world.”
Mark doesn’t respond, his focus unwavering. You can see it—the way his eyes track the ball, his calm under pressure. He’s not here to prove anything to Jeno; he’s here for himself. Every shot Mark takes is calculated, precise. He moves with a fluidity that surprises you, and you catch yourself watching more intently than you expected, noticing the subtle shift in his posture, the way his eyes sharpen when he finds an opening. There’s something intimate in the way he plays, an art to his determination that makes it impossible not to be drawn in.
“And Mark with the shot—boom! Nothing but net!” Donghyuck’s voice is filled with excitement, and the crowd reacts with gasps. You can hear the surprise rippling through them. Jeno wasn’t expecting this, and neither were they. “He’s got game, ladies and gentlemen. Jeno might have his work cut out for him.”
Jeno’s frustration grows with each point Mark scores. You can see it in the way his movements become more frantic, more desperate to overpower Mark. But Mark doesn’t falter. He doesn’t need to respond to Jeno’s taunts, and doesn't need to engage in the mind games. His eyes are always on the prize, his determination unshakable.
As the game continues, it’s clear that Jeno underestimated his brother. Mark isn’t just holding his own—he’s thriving. Each basket he makes feels like a step out of the shadow Jeno has cast over him for so long. For Jeno, this is about dominance, about keeping Mark out of his world. But for Mark, it’s about more than that. It’s about carving out his own place, about proving he can hold his own.
Jeno dribbles back, eyes narrowing as he pulls up from way beyond the three-point line, his body coiling with the kind of confidence that comes from years of dominance on the court. His movements are fluid, almost graceful as he rises to take the shot, the ball leaving his fingertips in a perfect arc. For a second, it looks like it’s going in—like he’s about to remind everyone why he’s the best. But just as the ball reaches its peak, Mark appears out of nowhere, launching himself into the air, his arm extending at just the right angle to block it.
Donghyuck's voice bursts out in excitement, “Jeno shoots… and misses!” he pauses, eyes wide with amazement, “holy crap, did you see that? Someday men will write stories about that block, children will be named after that block and Argentinian women will weep for it!”
The sound of the ball slapping against his hand echoes through the court, followed by the stunned gasps from the crowd. Jeno stumbles back, shock and disbelief flickering across his face as the ball ricochets away, the confidence he’d had only moments ago shattered.
“Mark with the rebound. He’s fast. He’s focused.” Donghyuck’s playful tone turns serious as the game nears its end. The tension in the crowd is palpable, and you can’t help but feel it too. But more than that, you’re watching Mark now—really watching him. The way he doesn’t let anything distract him, the quiet intensity in his eyes as he takes his final shot. There’s something about him in this moment that feels… different. It’s not an attraction, not yet, but a subtle curiosity. The way he moves, the determination etched into every step—it draws you in, and you can’t help but wonder what else lies beneath that calm exterior.
“And that’s it! Mark Lee wins!” Donghyuck shouts as the crowd erupts, the shock clear on everyone’s faces. Mark’s friends swarm the court, cheering loudly, their celebration unrestrained. You watch them from the sidelines, a small, subtle smile pulling at your lips. You don’t know why, but seeing Mark win… it makes you happy. There’s something about it that feels right, like you’ve been waiting for this moment without even realising it. You haven’t smiled like this in so long.
Jeno walks toward you, his face twisted in frustration and defeat. “It’s not a big deal,” you say quietly, trying to diffuse the tension.
Jeno laughs, though it’s not a sound filled with humour. “He’s not gonna quit the team now. I lost the bet.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You bet on it?”
Jeno’s face hardens, and the way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat, but not in a good way. His silence is unsettling, and you can feel the shift in the air between you. “What did he bet if he won?” you ask, your voice quieter now, a sinking feeling creeping into your chest.
Jeno looks at you, his jaw tight. “You. He bet that he gets you.”
The words hit you like a slap, the weight of them sinking in slowly. You’re stunned, unsure how to feel. Part of you is angry at Jeno, furious that he would treat you like an object in some stupid rivalry. But another part of you—the part that watched Mark play tonight, the part that saw something different in him—can’t shake the way you felt watching him on that court.
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The drive back to Jeno’s house is suffocating, the silence hanging heavy in the air like a storm about to break. You’ve tried speaking, tried breaking through the wall he’s built around himself, but he just stares straight out of the window, his jaw clenched tight as if he’s grinding through every word he doesn’t want to say. His silence grates on you, each passing second tightening the coil of frustration in your chest.
Finally, you snap, your voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade. “Why the fuck would you agree to let me get involved in any type of bet? Aren’t you my boyfriend? Aren’t you supposed to protect me?”
Jeno doesn’t answer, doesn’t even turn to look at you. His expression remains stony, detached, like you’re not even there. It’s as if every emotion between you is locked behind that clenched jaw. The frustration inside you bubbles over, boiling under your skin as he pulls up to his apartment, the car jerking to a stop. Before you can say anything more, he throws the door open, slams it shut, and storms toward the house, leaving you sitting there, stunned.
You follow him, heart pounding, already knowing what you’re about to walk into. But it still hits harder than you expect when you push through the front door: another one of his fucking parties.
The bass from the music vibrates through the floor, the walls practically shaking from the force of it. The air inside is thick—sweat, alcohol, smoke—all mingling into a nauseating fog that clings to everything. Half the campus seems to be packed into the house, bodies pressed together, laughing, shouting, grinding. It’s chaos. It’s chaotic, a celebration party that was meant to mark Jeno’s victory but he lost. He didn’t expect to lose so now he’s throwing himself into this mess, trying to forget how Mark beat him.
Jeno doesn’t even glance your way as he strides straight into the centre of the party. The second he steps inside, the energy shifts. All eyes are on him. Girls bat their eyelashes, offering coy smiles and glances, waiting for him to notice. The guys are quick to slap him on the back, giving him their usual praise, eager to bask in the glow of his attention. He soaks it up, drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him afloat.
Without a second thought, he’s gone, swallowed by the crowd. You stand there, invisible, feeling like an afterthought. You watch as Jeno gravitates toward a group of girls, the kind you’ve seen around before—the ones who always seem to be in his orbit, looking for a chance to get close. They laugh at something he says, their hands grazing his arm, their gazes hungry. And Jeno, your supposed boyfriend, leans into it.
You watch as one of the girls, dressed in a tight, glittering dress, dances close to him, her body pressed against his as they move to the beat. Jeno’s hands rest on her waist for just a second—nothing more than a passing touch, but it’s enough to sting. Enough to make your stomach twist. She leans in to whisper something in his ear, and he smirks. It’s a look you’ve seen before—not necessarily malicious, just confident, like he’s always known how to handle this kind of attention. His eyes are a bit hazy, a mix of alcohol and the mood of the night, and he doesn’t even glance in your direction.
The other girls join in, dancing around him, their bodies brushing against his as the music pulses through the room. Jeno doesn’t move away, doesn’t stop them, but he’s not exactly encouraging it either. He lets it happen, lets them touch him, lets the night sweep him up. You know it’s not about forgetting you, not about pushing boundaries—Jeno’s always had this natural pull, the kind that draws people in without him even trying. But tonight, it feels different, harder to shake off, like he’s just letting the moment take him, unaware of how much it’s affecting you.
Your chest tightens, and you stand there, rooted in place. It’s not like this is the first time—Jeno’s always been the guy who draws attention effortlessly, always the one people gravitate toward. But tonight, there’s something sharper about it, something that feels a little too close. You know he loves you, but watching him in the middle of it all, surrounded by all these girls, it feels like you’re invisible for a moment. Like maybe, just maybe, he’s forgotten how much he means to you. But deep down, you know it’s just him getting caught up in the night, not in them.
You make your way upstairs, needing space, needing to breathe. The noise below feels like a weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating you. Jeno’s room is as much of a mess as the party downstairs, but it’s quieter at least. You go straight to his drawers, pulling out bottles of whatever alcohol you can find, downing shots without caring about the burn in your throat. Then it’s the drugs—whatever pills and powders he’s stashed away. You don’t think, you just take them. Anything to numb the anger, the frustration, the feeling of being trapped and ignored.
You grab your laptop from the desk and plug your phone into the speaker, blasting your own music. The party music below is lame, anyway. With the alcohol and drugs starting to take effect, you focus on your screen, your fingers flying across the keys as you work on your art assignment. You pull up the digital image you’ve been editing for days, your eyes scanning the lines and colours as you tweak the lighting, adjust the shadows—anything to keep your mind off Jeno, off the party, off everything.
An hour passes before Jeno stumbles into the room, high out of his mind. He’s still reeking of sweat and alcohol, his shirt half-untucked, his eyes bloodshot. He glances at your screen, scoffing.
“What are you wasting your time on now?”
You bite your tongue, not wanting to start another fight, but the irritation flares up anyway. You keep your eyes on the screen, editing a tiny detail on the photo, hoping he’ll leave. But he doesn’t. Instead, he walks over and turns off the speaker, his smirk testing you.
“You know nobody listens to this crap,” he says, challenging you with his gaze.
“Why the fuck did you allow me to be bet on?” you snap, unable to hold back any longer. The question is sharp, bitter.
Jeno rolls his eyes and shrugs, as if it’s not worth discussing, as if it doesn’t matter. His casual dismissal makes your blood boil.
“Don’t fucking roll your eyes at me,” you seethe, standing up from the bed. “Don’t give me attitude. You’re the one throwing your lame parties and celebrating what? That your brother beat your lame ass today?”
Jeno shakes his head, irritated. “That’s why I came here now,” he mutters, his words slurring slightly. “To ask you if you wanna come party with us.”
“‘Us’?” you ask, folding your arms. “So that means the guys and the girls you’re fucking around with? The ones you let grind all over you like you don’t have a girlfriend standing right there?”
Jeno’s expression tightens, his jaw clenching as the accusation hits him. His eyes flash with frustration, but for a moment, you catch a flicker of guilt before he quickly masks it. His lips press into a thin line, his nostrils flaring slightly, as if he’s holding back from snapping. He sighs, exasperated. “And me.”
“And the guys,” you repeat, rolling your eyes.
“You know what, Y/N,” he says, his tone shifting to frustration. “I’m getting really tired of this. I came here to spend time with you.” He points at you accusingly, his words biting.
“Yeah, me and half the campus,” you shoot back, referring to the party downstairs.
He throws his hands up in defeat. “Whatever. You wanna be a bitch, that’s cool. Just sit here and listen to your loser rock and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you glare at him, your voice sharp as a knife. “How about you don’t see me tomorrow?”
Jeno’s face falters for a moment, and he looks at you, something softer trying to break through the haze of alcohol and frustration. “Look… I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice low. It’s an apology, but it feels half-hearted, like he’s saying it because he knows he should, not because he means it.
You shake your head, ignoring him as you push past. The anger burns too hot, and his apology barely registers. You brush yourself past him, the touch brief but cold, leaving him standing there in the doorway, stunned and alone.
You breathe heavily, trying to calm the anger still simmering in your chest. Each inhale feels shaky, your body betraying just how rattled you are. Jeno’s words, his actions downstairs, the careless way he allowed those girls to hang on to him like you didn’t matter—it all echoes in your mind. You need to escape, to get away from the suffocating weight of it all. With nothing else to do, you make your way downstairs, the pounding bass and shrill laughter filling the space like a cloud of smoke you can’t shake.
You’re halfway to the kitchen when a few of your friends spot you. Their faces light up, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. They pull you into a conversation, their voices high-pitched and bubbly as they compliment your dress, touching your arm and admiring the way the tight black fabric clings to your curves.
“Oh my god, that dress is insane on you!” one of them gushes, her eyes wide with admiration. “Jeno is so lucky…”
You smile, the kind of smile you’ve perfected—wide and warm, just enough to convince them you’re engaged. “Thanks,” you reply, your voice light, pretending to match their energy. It’s easy to slip into this act, to fake the excitement, the warmth. You’ve done it before. But inside, everything feels hollow, like there’s a wall between you and the rest of the world.
As they chatter on about the party, about boys, you catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror. The dress is tight, black, hugging every inch of your body. The neckline plunges just enough to catch attention, the fabric pulling at all the right places. Your makeup is flawless—lips painted a deep, sultry red, eyeshadow smoked out in a way that makes your eyes pop. To everyone else, you look like the life of the party, someone who belongs here. But looking at your own reflection, you feel detached, like you’re watching yourself from outside your body.
You’re about to respond to one of your friends when something catches your eye—someone. Your breath catches in your throat as you notice Mark Lee standing across the room. You freeze. Your friends’ voices fade into the background, the party around you slipping away as your focus zeroes in on him. What the hell is he doing here?
Mark doesn’t belong at parties like this. It’s obvious in the way he stands, surrounded by people yet somehow separate, distant. He’s smiling, his lips curved upward, but there’s a casual awkwardness in the way he holds himself. His shoulders are tense, and he fidgets with his hands as if he’s not entirely comfortable with the attention.
You watch as a few girls, practically draped over him, giggle and bat their eyelashes, clearly trying to catch his eye. Mark’s friends are laughing, slapping him on the back like they’re celebrating something. You can tell his status is rising after his win today, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at how quickly people are flocking to him. It’s almost comical. Yet, unlike Jeno, Mark doesn’t seem to bask in it. He’s not soaking up the attention or feeding off it. Instead, he shifts awkwardly under their gazes, like the weight of it all makes him uneasy.
There’s something… different about him.
You find yourself studying the way his body language contrasts with the energy around him. Where Jeno would be centre stage, loving every second of the spotlight, Mark seems almost out of place, as if he’s trying to navigate a world that doesn’t quite fit him. It’s… endearing. His discomfort, the way he’s clearly not used to being the centre of attention—it draws you in, makes you curious in a way you hadn’t expected.
A small, quiet laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help but find it amusing, how different he is from everyone else in the room. And just as quickly as you let yourself slip into that moment, his eyes meet yours.
For a split second, your heart stutters, and your breath catches. His gaze holds yours, steady and intense. You can’t look away, even though every part of you wants to. It’s as if the rest of the room melts away, the noise, the people, the party—it all blurs into the background. There’s only him.
Mark’s eyes are dark, deeper than you’d expect, and the tension between you feels thick, almost suffocating. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something behind his stare—something that sends a jolt through you. It’s unsettling how deep it cuts, like he’s seeing straight through you, into a place you didn’t want anyone to go.
Your stomach twists, the feeling both terrifying and magnetic. You should look away, but you don’t. You hold his gaze for longer than you should, and the tension between you builds with every second that passes. His stare is steady, unblinking, as if he’s waiting for something, as if he’s testing you. And the longer it goes on, the more you feel like something has shifted—something subtle, something dangerous.
Finally, you tear your eyes away, your heart racing in your chest. You turn, your movements quick and sharp, almost desperate to break the connection. But the weight of his gaze lingers on you, even after you walk away, the tension hanging in the air long after the moment has passed. Something has shifted, and you can feel it deep in your bones.
You don’t know what it is, but you’re certain of one thing: you’re not ready to face it yet.
You storm off, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and betrayal, the thoughts of Jeno’s reckless behaviour and the bet swirling in your mind. Every step feels heavier, like the weight of everything that’s happened is pressing down on your chest. The muffled noise of the party below fades into the background as you climb the stairs, heading straight for Jeno’s room. The air feels thick, the kind of tension that wraps around you and makes it hard to breathe.
He bet on you.
The thought keeps ringing in your mind, making your stomach churn. It’s a hollow realisation, but one you can’t shake—like every guy in your life somehow views you as a prize, something to win or lose. Your chest tightens with anger, but it’s not just aimed at Jeno. It’s aimed at Mark too. He was part of it. Part of the game, the manipulation.
You reach Jeno’s room and shove the door open, needing the space, needing to breathe. The familiar smell of his cologne mixed with weed hits you. The room is a mess, clothes and empty bottles scattered everywhere, a chaotic reflection of everything wrong between you and him. You step inside, your hands trembling slightly as you try to make sense of everything swirling in your mind.
But before you can take a breath, you hear footsteps behind you.
Your heart skips, the sudden sound catching you off guard. You whip around, expecting Jeno, but instead, it’s Mark standing in the doorway. His expression unreadable, his hands tucked into his pockets like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.
“Hey,” Mark says, his voice soft but carrying through the tension in the room.
You stand in shock, your eyes narrowing in on him. The last person you want to see right now is Mark Lee, of all people. “What do you want? Why are you following me?” Your voice comes out harsher than you intend, but you don’t care. The anger flares up, twisting in your chest. “Why are you even in Jeno’s room? Do you want me to call him?”
Mark’s expression shifts, his lips curling into a half-smirk that makes your blood boil. “Yeah, you won’t do that.” he says, voice calm but biting. “Bit of a weird relationship you guys have, huh? You’re his girlfriend, but he spends the night flirting and touching other girls?”
His words hit harder than you expect, cutting deep. You swallow, trying to hold back the frustration bubbling inside you, but it spills over anyway. “You’re not allowed to talk about my relationship,” you snap, stepping closer, the distance between you narrowing. “How dare you… how dare you tell Jeno that you wanted me if you won the game earlier?”
Mark chuckles, the sound low and dry. “Just when I think Jeno couldn’t be more of a jerk,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I changed my mind, alright? I agreed that if I won, I’d quit the team. Did he bother telling you that, or did he just let you believe the worst?”
You freeze, stunned. The weight of his words hangs heavy between you. “Why would you… why would you want to quit the team?”
Mark’s expression softens for a moment, the tension easing slightly from his posture. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because I’m tired of this,” he says, his voice quieter now, more genuine. “I don’t want to be in Jeno’s world anymore, competing with him over every little thing. Basketball used to be fun for me, but not when it’s all about one-upping him. It’s exhausting.”
You stare at him, processing the weight of what he’s just said. He’s not just tired of the rivalry—he’s tired of everything that comes with it, the constant competition, the games, the need to prove something. It’s so different from the way Jeno sees things.
You truthfully had no idea how intertwined Mark and Jeno’s lives had become recently. It feels strange, realising you’ve been standing on the outside of something so tangled. You’re meant to be Jeno’s girlfriend, yet you’ve never seen this side of his life—not until today when he mentioned Mark while getting ready for their showdown at the river court. That was the first time he had ever really talked about his half-brother with you, and even then, it was brief, distant, like he was giving you only the surface.
And now here you are, standing with Mark, getting a glimpse into the mess that you’ve somehow been pulled into without fully understanding it. It’s like you’ve been involved in their rivalry without even realising it, and yet you can see the toll it’s taken on Mark. The weariness in his voice, the way he talks about Jeno—it’s clear he’s already fed up. He’s exhausted, but from your perspective, you’ve only been witnessing it from the outside, catching pieces of a story you were never let into.
You’re confused, not truly understanding the dynamics between Mark and Jeno or the tension in their family. You’ve met Jeno’s dad before, and it didn’t take long to realise he’s an asshole. Controlling, dismissive, and always pushing Jeno toward something—whether it’s basketball or his own toxic expectations. Now, hearing Mark’s side of things, it makes sense why he wouldn’t want to be associated with their dad or get sucked into Jeno’s world. You’re not surprised Mark is tired of it all.
You notice the sadness lingering in his eyes, the exhaustion etched into his features, and it makes something twist in your chest. It’s clear he’s been carrying the weight of this rivalry far longer than you realised. You don’t fully understand the complexities between them, and a part of you wonders if you ever will.
You change the subject, not wanting to push him further into a conversation that clearly brings up so much for him.
“So… you did bet on me at first,” you murmur, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “Why?”
Mark steps closer, and suddenly the air in the room feels different, heavier with a tension that has nothing to do with anger. His eyes lock on yours, and for a moment, you feel like he’s seeing right through you. “Because I’ve always noticed you,” he says, his voice lower, more intimate. “The way you laugh when you think no one’s watching. The way you bite your lip when you’re lost in your own thoughts. The way you don’t let anyone in, but you have so much more to give than what people see.”
The words send a jolt through you, leaving you speechless, flushed. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The room feels smaller, the tension between you thick and suffocating.
Just as quickly as he’s drawn you in, Mark shifts the conversation, breaking the intensity of the moment. His gaze drifts to the bedside table, where a stack of vinyl records sits. He curled an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “No way Jeno listens to music this good,” he comments, his fingers brushing over the edge of a record. “Oasis?”
You blink, the sudden change in tone catching you off guard. “He doesn’t,” you mumble, glancing at the records. “They’re mine.”
Mark’s smile widens, genuine and warm. “Didn’t think Jeno had that kind of taste. But you… this makes sense. You’ve got good taste.”
You shake your head slightly, still processing the shift in the conversation. Jeno always made fun of your music, always complained about how outdated and boring it was. But Mark… Mark seems to appreciate it.
He looks around the room again and spots your laptop, the digital art project you’ve been working on still open on the screen. He steps closer, leaning over to get a better look. “This… this is good,” he says, sounding almost impressed. “Really good.”
You brush off the compliment, shrugging. “It’s nothing, just something I mess around with.”
“No,” Mark says firmly, turning to face you, his eyes serious. “You’re talented. You need to take this seriously. Be proud of yourself for once.”
You blink, the unexpected praise catching you off guard. Jeno never really cared about your art. Whenever you’d show him a new project, he’d glance at it, offer a half-hearted “cool,” and move on to whatever was on his mind. But hearing it from Mark—someone who’s not even in your life—feels different. It feels real.
You turn away slightly, suddenly feeling exposed. “It’s not a big deal,” you mumble, trying to dismiss it, but Mark doesn’t let it go.
“It is a big deal,” he insists, his voice soft but firm. “Look, I know I’m a complete nobody to you, and I don’t know everything about you, but I can tell that this… this is something you care about. You’re good, really good, and you shouldn’t brush that off.”
You swallow hard, his words sinking deeper than you expected. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, like he sees more than what you’re used to showing people. Like he’s seeing the side of you that even Jeno never bothered to notice.
The tension between you shifts again, but this time it’s softer, quieter. You feel yourself calming down, the anger that had burned so hot before now fading into something else—something you can’t quite put your finger on. It feels like Mark is seeing you, really seeing you, and that makes your chest tighten in a way that’s hard to ignore.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. The question slips out before you can stop it, and you feel vulnerable, like you’re revealing more than you want to.
Mark’s gaze softens, and he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe because someone should be,” he says quietly. “Someone should tell you how good you are. How much you matter. How much you deserve more than what you’re settling for.”
The words hit you hard, and you find yourself struggling to breathe. Mark’s standing so close now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him, and for a moment, you forget everything else. You forget about the party downstairs, the chaos with Jeno, the bet. All you can focus on is the way Mark is looking at you, the sincerity in his eyes.
You want to say something, anything, but the words are stuck in your throat. There’s a strange electricity in the air between you, like you’re standing on the edge of something dangerous and exciting all at once. Your mind is telling you to stop, to pull back, but your body doesn’t move.
And then, before you can fully process what’s happening, Mark reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against your arm. The touch is soft, tentative, but it sends a jolt through you.
“Mark…” you murmur, unsure of what you’re even trying to say.
But he’s already pulling his hand back, stepping away just enough to give you space, the intensity of the moment easing. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a small laugh, but it’s not out of amusement—it’s out of the tension that’s still lingering between you both.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just… I don’t know, I felt like you needed to hear that.”
You stand there, your heart racing, and for a second, you don’t know how to respond. Everything feels charged, like you’re balancing on a knife’s edge. You know you shouldn’t feel anything like this. He’s Jeno’s brother, after all, and this is already messy enough. But the way Mark looks at you, the way he speaks to you—it feels different. Different from Jeno. Different from anyone.
“I should go,” you finally say, the words shaky and unconvincing.
But before you can make a move, Mark stops you again, his voice soft but commanding. “Wait.”
You turn back, meeting his eyes again, and the tension that had briefly eased floods back, stronger than ever. He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes are full of something you can’t quite place.
“Why are you with him?” Mark asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
The question catches you off guard. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Because deep down, you’re not sure you know the answer anymore. The connection you once had with Jeno feels distant, hollow, like it’s slipping through your fingers the more you try to hold on.
Mark takes a step closer, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. His presence is overwhelming, and for the first time tonight, you feel truly seen. Not as Jeno’s girlfriend, not as someone who’s part of the chaos—but as yourself.
“Because,” you start, your voice shaky. “It’s easier than admitting that maybe we’re not right for each other. It’s easier than dealing with everything that’s falling apart.”
Mark’s eyes soften, and for a moment, he looks like he understands you in a way no one else has. He doesn’t push you for more, doesn’t make you feel guilty for your honesty. He just listens, and that feels like something you’ve been missing for a long time.
There’s a long silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s heavy, charged with all the things you’re both not saying, but also filled with a strange sense of calm.
And then, Mark’s voice breaks through the quiet.
“You deserve better than ‘easy,’” he says softly, and his words sink deep into your chest, stirring something you’ve been trying to ignore for too long.
The room feels smaller, the air between you buzzing with something electric. For the first time, you wonder if maybe Mark’s right. Maybe you do deserve better. Maybe ‘easy’ isn’t enough anymore.
And just like that, everything between you shifts again.
───────────────────────────────
The next morning is a blur of regret and a pounding headache, the hangover hitting you harder than usual. You drag yourself out of bed, thoughts of last night swirling in your mind. Mark. You can’t stop thinking about him, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. It’s unsettling how much it affected you, how easily he got under your skin. You’d never noticed him before, never cared to, but now… now it’s different.
He looked right into you, saw things no one else had ever bothered to. That scared you. How could he do that in just one conversation? It’s unsettling how easily he got under your skin. You’d always been in control of how people saw you—polished, popular, the girl everyone wanted to be. But Mark… he saw past all of that. And you hated that. You couldn’t allow it.
As you walk through campus, your usual routine kicks in. The stares, the whispers—they follow you like they always do. You’re well-known, well-liked, and that’s how it’s supposed to be. You slip back into that role easily, the confident girl everyone looks up to, the one they envy or want to be. But today, it feels different, like something’s off. Like you are off. The mask you wear is starting to slip.
You push open the heavy doors to the stadium, the noise of squeaking sneakers and the thud of basketballs filling the air. The gym is mostly empty except for the cheer squad and the basketball team, both deep into practice for the big away game this weekend. The space is vast, the polished wood floor stretching out in front of you, the high ceilings making the place feel both overwhelming and hollow.
Karina, your best friend, is standing in the middle of the court, already in full drill-sergeant mode. She’s wearing the same cheer outfit as you—tiny, sultry, and sexy. The short skirt clings to her hips, barely covering her thighs, and the tight top shows off just enough skin to turn heads. Her long black hair is tied back into a sleek ponytail, and her dark eyes flash with intensity as she barks orders at the other girls. Karina’s passionate, sometimes too much so, running practices like boot camp. You’ve known her forever, and while she thrives on drama, partying, and popularity, she’s a good person underneath all that chaos. She’s just someone who loves living on the edge and always ends up in trouble.
“You’re late,” Karina snaps when she sees you, her voice sharp. She rolls her eyes dramatically and gestures for you to start warming up. “If you’re not gonna take this seriously, don’t even bother showing up.”
You give her a half-hearted shrug, too hungover and distracted to care. “I overslept,” you mutter, pulling your hair into a ponytail and adjusting the skirt of your cheer uniform. The fabric clings to your skin, the skirt short enough to leave little to the imagination. You stretch, trying to ignore the lingering headache and the thoughts of Mark that refuse to leave your mind.
Karina goes back to yelling at the other girls, demanding perfection in the routine, and you start practising alongside them. The others around you are gossiping, their voices filled with excitement as they gush over the basketball players—how hot they look in their uniforms, who hooked up with who, and which guy is the best in bed. You block them out, going through the motions of the routine as if on autopilot.
But then, you feel it again. That familiar, heavy gaze. You lift your head, and your heart skips when you see him.
Mark.
He’s across the court, dribbling a basketball with effortless ease, but his eyes are on you. He’s wearing the team’s uniform tank top, his last name, ‘Lee,’ boldly printed on the back. The sleeveless jersey hugs his broad shoulders, showing off his muscular arms, the definition of his biceps catching your eye. It fits him well—too well. The fabric clings to his torso, outlining the muscles beneath, and you curse yourself for noticing.
What a fucking liar. Didn’t he say he was quitting the team? So why was he here now, practising like nothing had changed?
Mark dribbles closer, and as he moves past you, you can’t stop yourself from striking up the question that’s been bugging you. “I thought you quit,” you say, your voice sharp with accusation.
He pauses, turning to you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I did,” he replies smoothly. “But I realised something this morning—this court is where I belong. No one’s gonna stop me from being here. Not Jeno. Not anyone.”
His words are like a challenge, and it makes something in your chest tighten. He stands there, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to say something more. You narrow your gaze, trying to keep the frustration from bubbling over. His presence was throwing you off balance, making you question things you didn’t want to face.
Mark doesn’t seem fazed by your silence. In fact, he starts talking again, asking about cheer practice, making small talk like nothing’s wrong. But you can’t let yourself engage. You give him blunt, clipped responses, barely meeting his gaze. You can’t afford to let him break through your walls again. Not in front of Karina and the other girls.
He huffs, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Why the hell are you a cheerleader anyway? You’re the least cheery person I know.”
Before you can answer, you notice the other cheerleaders staring, their eyes flicking between you and Mark. Some of them—the same girls who were flirting with him at the party—are watching closely, whispering to each other, their expressions curious. You feel exposed under their gaze, like they can see right through you, like they know something’s happened between you and Mark even though that was far from the reality.
You force yourself to act indifferent, cold. You put up the walls you’re so good at building, the ones that keep people from seeing the real you. But Mark’s not fooled. He sees through it, and it only makes him more determined. His gaze lingers, and you can feel the weight of it even as you turn away, trying to focus on the routine.
The tension between you is subtle, a quiet current that hums beneath the surface. You don’t know him well enough for it to be anything more, but there’s something about the way Mark watches you—calm, measured, like he’s trying to figure you out. It’s unsettling how easily he manages to chip away at the front you’ve put up, the one you use to keep everyone at a distance. He doesn’t push, doesn’t challenge you outright, but his presence is enough to make you feel exposed in a way you’re not used to.
What bothers you the most is how Mark seems to notice things others don’t, like he’s already picking up on pieces of you that you barely acknowledge yourself. He doesn’t say much, but the way he looks at you—steady, unflinching—feels like he’s seeing past the version of you that everyone else accepts without question. It’s not that he’s right, exactly, but the fact that he might be makes you uneasy.
Mark catches you stealing small glances at him as the practice goes on. You falter in your movements just enough for him to notice, and each time you feel his eyes on you, your skin prickles with awareness. It’s infuriating, really—the way he’s always watching, like he’s waiting for you to crack. And what’s worse, you can’t stop yourself from glancing back.
You refocus, forcing your attention on Karina, who’s still barking orders at the squad, her long black hair swaying with every step. She’s relentless, her intensity dialled up to eleven. “Come on, Y/N,” she snaps, clapping her hands. “You’re half-assing it today. Get your head in the game!”
Karina’s passion for cheer is unmatched. She runs these practices like military drills, pushing everyone to their limits. It’s part of why she’s cheer captain, part of why the girls respect her, but it’s also why they gossip about how extra she is behind her back. But you know that her heart is in the right place. She loves this life. The drama, the popularity, the excitement of being at the centre of it all.
The cheer team lines up for the final drill, a complicated pyramid. As you climb into position, you catch Mark watching again, this time closer than before. He’s dribbling lazily nearby, as if he’s waiting for an excuse to talk to you. Your stomach twists, frustration and something else swirling in your gut. You turn away, focusing on the balance, ignoring him.
But as practice winds down, and you’re stretching by the edge of the court, you feel his shadow fall over you. He’s closer now, leaning against the wall, the basketball spinning lazily in his hand. You can’t ignore him any longer.
“I thought you were serious about quitting,” you mutter, not looking at him, your fingers digging into your muscles as you stretch.
Mark doesn’t answer right away, his silence speaking volumes. When he finally does, his voice is low, laced with that teasing tone he always seems to have around you. “I was. But sometimes plans change.” His eyes are locked on yours, and you hate how steady his gaze is, how it makes you feel like he’s peeling away your defences one layer at a time.
You scoff, rolling your shoulders back as you stand. “You and Jeno are going to kill each other. What’s the point?”
Mark’s eyes flicker, his jaw tightening for a brief second before his usual calm mask returns. “Maybe. Or maybe this is the only way to settle things between us.”
You’re taken aback by the intensity in his voice, but you don’t show it. Instead, you shrug, grabbing your water bottle and taking a long drink. “Whatever. Just don’t drag me into it.”
Mark steps closer, and you freeze, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. “You’re already in it,” he says, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Whether you want to be or not.”
You blink, trying to process what Mark means. Of course, you’re involved—you’re Jeno’s girlfriend, after all. But there’s something in the way Mark says it, something that feels deeper than just the rivalry between him and his brother. He’s looking at you like he knows something you don’t, like he sees the storm brewing before you even realise it’s there.
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, the doors to the court open with a loud bang, the sound echoing across the gym.
All eyes instinctively glance toward the entrance as Jeno strides in, exuding the kind of confidence that makes it seem like he owns the place. There’s an effortless swagger in his step, the kind that turns heads, drawing attention without even trying.
He’s late, but he doesn’t look like someone who’s been through a rough night. His hair, though slightly tousled, is styled in that perfect, careless way that still manages to look deliberate. His basketball jersey clings to his broad shoulders, the material showcasing the lean muscles of his arms as it moves with every step he takes. His name ‘Lee,’ is plastered boldly across his back. His skin glows with a faint sheen, his body radiating a kind of heat that makes you—despite everything—take notice.
Coach Suh’s voice booms across the court, cutting through the tension. “Lee Jeno! You’re late! Get your ass over here—this isn’t a damn joke.”
Jeno just shakes his head, a smirk pulling at his lips as he runs a hand through his messy hair. The sound of his laugh echoes through the gym, but it’s empty, lacking its usual charm. Instead of walking toward the rest of the team, he strides toward you and Mark, his gaze flicking between the two of you.
His expression is tight, frustration radiating off him, but it’s not just about being late. The way his eyes fix on Mark makes your stomach clench—this wouldn’t end well.
“So,” Jeno drawls, his voice low and laced with bitterness, “not only do you want my life, my spot on the team, but you also want my girl?”
The words hang heavy in the air, his accusation sharp. Mark doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing as he watches Jeno, his calm exterior refusing to crack.
Your heart pounds in your chest, panic rising as you feel the tension between them ramping up like a ticking time bomb about to explode. You can see it in Jeno’s posture—the way his fists clench, the way he’s getting ready to square up and the way his jaw tightens—he’s not going to let this go easily.
You step in quickly, hoping to defuse the situation before it spirals out of control. “Jeno, let’s just go, yeah?” you say softly, stepping closer to him. You put your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, hoping your touch will calm him down. “We’ll skip practice and hang out like we used to before. Please, let’s just leave.”
For a moment, Jeno doesn’t move, his gaze still locked on Mark, but then he turns to you, his features softening just slightly. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Baby, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You swallow, the tension in the air heavy, but you nod, wanting to end this. “It’s okay,” you whisper back. “Let’s just move on, okay?”
Jeno pulls back, his smirk returning as he glances at Mark one last time before turning fully to you. He speaks loud enough for Mark to hear, completely ignoring his brother’s presence. “I’ll pick you up later, yeah? We haven’t fucked in so long. I’ll make sure you have a better time than last night.”
You freeze, his words making your skin prickle. It’s meant to sound playful, teasing, but there’s an edge to it—something bitter and insecure. You can sense it in the way he’s trying too hard, covering his unease with cocky charm.
But you’re horny, above everything else, you really want cock. His cock.
“Okay,” you smile, leaning up to kiss Jeno softly, the warmth of his lips against yours a temporary distraction. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of Mark’s eyes burning into you from across the court, watching the whole interaction unfold.
───────────────────────────────
The gym was alive with the roaring of the crowd, the heavy pounding of feet against the polished hardwood echoing through the space. It was the big away game, the one everyone had been talking about for weeks. You stood with the rest of the cheer team, pom-poms in hand, cheering and supporting the boys. The energy was electric, the entire stadium buzzing with anticipation. You could feel the excitement coursing through the air, a mix of tension and adrenaline that had everyone on edge.
The crowd was packed, faces blurred together, and their cheers were deafening. The thud of basketballs against the court, the squeak of sneakers, You glanced around, spotting Karina, who was already screaming her head off, hyping up the team and the crowd, her long black hair bouncing with every movement. She was intense, as always. The bright cheer uniforms only added to the energy, and despite the tension in the air, you couldn’t deny how it all came together. You loved being part of the noise, even if you felt disconnected at times.
Your eyes were naturally drawn to the court, where the basketball players were in full motion. Mark was everywhere—sprinting down the court, dribbling the ball, his focus intense. He was confident, fully immersed in the game, his movements fluid and controlled. It was hard not to notice how good he was, how easily he fit into the rhythm of the team despite everything that had happened. He belonged there, and it was becoming more obvious with every passing second. The crowd roared when he made another shot, and you could see the respect from his teammates growing, even from the coach, who’d been unsure about Mark’s return at first.
You’ve crossed paths with Mark more than ever lately. Now that he’s back on the team, it’s like you can’t escape him. Every practice, every game, he’s there. At first, you tried not to think much of it. You were with Jeno, after all. But there’s something about Mark that draws your attention, whether you want to admit it or not. Something in the way he moves on the court, the quiet confidence he carries with him, a calmness that contrasts with Jeno’s intensity.
The tension between them is palpable. Jeno had always been the star of the team, the one everyone looked to. But ever since Mark returned, that’s been changing. Mark was gaining attention—not just from the coach but from the teammates too. He was good. Really good. And every time Mark made a clean shot, a perfect pass, it only seemed to stoke the frustration in Jeno’s eyes.
Jeno was playing tonight, just not in his usual position. And it was clear that something was off. Every time he had the ball, he hesitated, glancing toward Mark before passing to someone else. He was purposefully ignoring his brother, and you could see the frustration building. Mark was calling for the ball, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Come on, man! Pass the ball!” Mark shouted, motioning for the pass.
Jeno ignores him, pushing forward and taking the shot himself. It’s a miss, and the other team grabs the rebound. Mark’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes locked on Jeno, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
The tension keeps building, and you feel it, feel it in the way Jeno glares at Mark during the timeout, feel it in the way Mark brushes past him, his shoulders stiff with barely contained anger. It’s only a matter of time before something snaps.
And then it does.
In the final quarter, with the clock winding down, Jeno gets the ball again. He dribbles down the court, and Mark is wide open, calling for it. The crowd yells for Jeno to pass, but he doesn’t. Instead, he goes for a three-pointer, and the ball bounces off the rim. Mark’s face tightens in frustration, and as soon as the play stops, he storms over to Jeno.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mark demands, shoving Jeno’s shoulder. “You had to prove something by missing a shot you knew you couldn’t make?”
Jeno’s eyes flash with anger as he pushes Mark back, his jaw clenched tight. “You think I’m gonna let you take my place? You don’t get it, Mark. This was my team before you showed up, and it’ll be my team long after you leave.”
Mark doesn’t back down. He steps closer, his voice calm but cold. “You don’t own this team, Jeno. Stop acting like I’m here to take everything from you.”
Jeno scoffs, his voice rising, the frustration boiling over. “That’s exactly what you’re doing! You want everything I have—my spot on the court, my life, my girl—” He stops short, his eyes darting to you for a split second before he looks back at Mark. “You want what’s mine, and you’re not getting it.”
Mark’s jaw clenches, and before anyone can react, Jeno takes a swing. The punch catches Mark in the chest, but Mark doesn’t fall back. Instead, he lunges forward, shoving Jeno hard enough to send him stumbling back. The crowd gasps as the tension explodes, and the game halts as the two brothers start throwing punches.
It’s chaos. They’re grappling, shoving each other, fists flying as they tumble to the ground. Teammates rush in to pull them apart, but the damage is done. The anger, the resentment—it’s all out in the open now.
“Is that what this is about?” Mark growls, his voice low as he’s dragged back by a teammate. “You’re scared I’ll take everything you think is yours?”
Jeno spits, his eyes burning with rage as he shrugs off the hands holding him back. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? Just because you walked back into my life and everyone suddenly loves you. But you’re nothing, Mark. You’ve always been nothing.”
The words sting, and you can see it in Mark’s eyes. There’s hurt beneath the anger, hurt that Jeno’s words have dug up, but he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he straightens, his chest heaving with effort as he holds Jeno’s gaze. “I never wanted to take anything from you, Jeno,” Mark says quietly, but the weight behind his words hits hard. “I just wanted a chance to be something without having to live in your shadow.”
Jeno doesn’t respond. He just glares, his fists still clenched, and it’s clear that, despite everything, he’s not ready to let go of his anger.
You watch from the sidelines, your heart racing. The fight, the words they’re throwing at each other—it’s like you’re watching years of tension unfold right in front of you. And though you know you should be on Jeno’s side, your heart twists when you see the way Mark looks, the way he’s trying to hold himself together while everything falls apart around him.
Jeno looks at you, expecting you to come to his side, to back him up like you always have. But you can’t. Not this time. Not when you can see the pain in Mark’s eyes, the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to hide. You hesitate, your mind racing with everything that’s happened, torn between the loyalty you owe to Jeno and the empathy you feel for Mark.
Before you can think too much, you find yourself stepping forward, your voice soft but clear. “Jeno… maybe it’s time to let this go.”
Jeno’s eyes snap to you, his expression shifting from anger to disbelief. “What? You’re taking his side now?”
“I’m not taking sides,” you say quietly, but the look in Jeno’s eyes tells you he doesn’t believe that. “I just think this has gone too far. Both of you need to stop before it gets worse.”
Mark stands there, silent but watching you, his gaze steady, like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do next. And for a moment, you catch the flicker of something in his eyes—gratitude, maybe, or understanding. It’s brief, but it’s there.
Jeno lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Of course. Of course, you’d side with him.”
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of Jeno’s words, but before you can respond, the coach steps in, finally ending the fight and calling off the game.
As the crowd disperses and the players start to leave the court, you find yourself standing in the middle of it all, your heart heavy with everything that’s happened. Jeno storms off without another word, and Mark lingers for a moment, his eyes meeting yours once more before he turns and walks away. Jeno’s jaw was clenched, fists still balled as he stormed off the court. He didn’t look at you, not even once. Not after the fight started and not when he walked away, the tension radiating off him in waves.
You waited outside the locker room, hoping things would cool off, but Jeno was waiting for you. The moment your eyes met his, you knew this wasn’t going to be just another argument. There was something different in his gaze—something deeper, angrier.
“You let him get to you,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration as you stood before him, trying to keep your own emotions in check.
Jeno’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You think this is just about him getting on my nerves?” His voice was sharp, filled with a bitterness that made your stomach twist. “It’s never been that simple. He keeps trying to edge me out. First, he steps onto the court, taking my place there, and now…”
He paused, the weight of his words heavy in the air. When his eyes finally met yours, there was something raw in his gaze, something that made your chest tighten.
“And now it feels like he’s trying to take you too,” Jeno muttered, the accusation hanging between you like a loaded gun.
The shock hit you like a wave, leaving you speechless for a moment. “What? What are you even saying?” you stammered, though the crack in your voice betrayed the strength you were trying to summon. Your heart raced, and your hands trembled slightly at your sides.
Jeno’s frustration boiled over as he stepped closer, the intensity in his eyes almost too much to bear. “I’m not blind, Y/N. I see it. The way things have changed between us… The way you look at him when you think no one’s watching. You’ve been different, distant. You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was laced with something that felt like betrayal, something that cut deep even before you could fully process what he was accusing you of.
“You’re wrong,” you whispered, but even as the words left your mouth, they felt hollow.
“Am I?” He scoffed, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you.
The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, the tears already threatening to spill over. “I’ve been trying, Jeno. I—”
“Trying?” he cut you off, his voice harsh and biting. “This is you trying? Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re slipping away from me. You’re slipping away, Y/N, and it’s because of him. Admit it.”
The tears finally broke free, sliding down your cheeks before you could stop them. It was too much—the accusations, the anger, the way he looked at you like he didn’t recognize you anymore. “I can’t do this,” you murmured, shaking your head, your voice barely holding together. “I’m trying, but you—”
Without waiting for his response, you turned and bolted, your feet moving before your mind could catch up. The sounds of the gym—shouts, sneakers squeaking on the polished floor, the dull thud of the basketball—faded behind you as you disappeared into the dimly lit hallways. The air was colder here, the emptiness wrapping around you like a shroud. But it couldn’t stop the sobs from rising in your throat, harsh and relentless, each one cutting deeper than the last.
You couldn’t remember the last time you cried. Not like this. Not the kind of tears that felt like they were tearing you apart from the inside out, like they’d been building for years, waiting for this very moment to break free.
Your chest heaved, your breaths ragged and uneven as you stumbled into a dark corner, sliding down against the cool wall. The hallway was silent, save for the sound of your sobs echoing back at you. You felt so raw, so exposed, like every layer of protection you’d built over the years had been stripped away in an instant. Vulnerability wasn’t something you allowed yourself to feel often—maybe ever—but here you were, unable to stop it.
Tears blurred your vision, and you pressed your hands to your face, trying to muffle the sound of your cries. But it was no use. The emotions had taken hold, refusing to let go. The anger, the hurt, the fear of everything unraveling—it was too much.
For so long, you had kept it all together, every crack patched up with a smile or a dismissive shrug. But this time… this time you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop the flood. And it terrified you because you didn’t know what came next. What was left when all the masks came off, when the facade you’d worked so hard to maintain finally crumbled?
You don’t know how long you’d been sitting there, curled up on the cold bench in one of the quieter hallways, your face buried in your hands as sobs wracked your body. Time felt like it had lost meaning, and you were too exhausted to care.
But when you heard soft footsteps approaching, you didn’t move. You didn’t have the energy. A familiar presence settled next to you. You felt it before you saw him, the warmth of his body close to yours, the quiet concern that radiated from him.
“Y/N,” Mark’s voice was soft, almost tentative. He crouched in front of you, his face level with yours, his eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?”
The question felt absurd, considering the mess you were in, but something about the way he asked it—so gently, so genuinely—caught you off guard. He wasn’t demanding answers, wasn’t prying. He just wanted to be there.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to brush him off, but your voice cracked, betraying you. Your hands trembled as you wiped at your eyes, trying to pull yourself together, but it was no use. You couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Mark didn’t push. Instead, he quietly sat beside you, the weight of his presence comforting in its simplicity. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty words. He just stayed there, his quiet strength offering more support than you’d realized you needed.
And then, before you knew it, you were crying again. Harder this time. The tears came in waves, overwhelming and unstoppable, and you felt yourself crumbling under the weight of everything you’d been holding in.
Without a word, Mark wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest in a gesture so simple, yet so needed. He held you close, one hand gently rubbing your back as the other rested on your shoulder. It wasn’t forceful or overwhelming—it was soft, steady, like he was offering you a safe space to break down.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice soothing, steady. “You don’t have to hold it in.”
His words were like a lifeline, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to let go. To stop pretending, stop fighting. You buried your face in his shoulder, your sobs muffled against his chest as the tears flowed freely.
Mark held you through it all, his presence grounding you, making you feel like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone in this. He didn’t say much—just whispered reassurances when the sobs became too much, his hand continuing its slow, comforting motion on your back.
When your sobs finally began to subside, you pulled back slightly, your eyes puffy and red, your breath still shaky. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide.
He wasn’t judging you. He wasn’t expecting you to be strong or put together. He just… saw you. The real you. The vulnerable, broken, messy you.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, thick with emotion.
Mark’s gaze softened, his hand still resting gently on your back. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to go through anything alone. You deserve better”
His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. There was something in his voice, something in the way he looked at you, that made you believe him. Made you feel like, for the first time in a long time, someone saw you for who you really were—and didn’t turn away.
You nodded, your throat tight, and Mark gave you a small, understanding smile, his hand lingering for just a moment longer before he pulled back, giving you space to breathe.
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The next few weeks passed in a blur of practices, games, and strained silence. You and Jeno had settled into a routine of avoidance—every fight left more scars, and neither of you seemed to know how to bridge the growing gap. Every interaction felt heavy, filled with unspoken words and bubbling frustration that neither of you could release. Even the once-effortless sexual connection between you had started to lose its spark, leaving behind a dull ache in its place.
But the only constant, ironically, was Mark.
But you tried to hide it because Jeno was beginning to suspect something. You denied all accusations. Maybe you were just acting petty, trying to make a point and prove Jeno that he was wrong even though you knew he was right. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because you were scared—scared to open up to Mark, scared to admit that the feelings stirring inside you weren’t as simple as you wanted them to be.
You told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that your stolen glances, the way you lingered a bit longer than you should during practices, was just harmless. But deep down, you knew better. Something was growing between you two, an unspoken pull that had you circling each other in quiet tension.
Today, it all came to a head during practice.
You moved through the stretches with fluid precision, your body bending and arching with every calculated motion. The gym lights flickered overhead, casting a golden hue on your skin as you twisted and turned, giving the cheerleaders around you a preview of the sultry moves you had perfected. Each stretch felt like a deliberate invitation, especially when you bent low, ass pushing out, skirt rising just high enough to leave little to the imagination. The hem of your cheerleading skirt barely brushed the tops of your thighs, teasing the smooth expanse of your skin as you moved.
Your body felt alive, the beat of the music in the background fueling the slow, rhythmic sway of your hips. You could feel the stretch in your thighs, the way the muscles tensed and released as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, the fabric of your skirt rising dangerously high with each movement. Your arms lifted above your head, drawing attention to the curve of your waist, the way the tight cheer top clung to your chest, accentuating every dip and curve.
You knew eyes were on you. You felt it.
But one set of eyes burned hotter than the rest.
Mark’s gaze was a constant, heavy presence, dragging over every inch of your body as you moved. He wasn’t trying to hide it. No, he wasn’t even subtle. Every time you bent low or did a quick flip of your hair, his eyes were right there, drinking in the sight of your ass, the bare stretch of your thighs. His gaze was intense, following the rise and fall of your body as though he was committing every detail to memory.
Your skirt rose a little higher as you shifted into a new move, a slut drop, your thighs tightening as you lowered your body, giving him an even better view. You felt the air against your skin, the way the heat of the gym mingled with the cool brush of fabric as it rode up higher with each deliberate movement. It made you feel powerful. Sexy. You were showing off, and you knew it.
Mark’s reaction was immediate. His jaw tightened as he watched, his fingers gripping the basketball tighter than necessary, veins bulging along his forearm. The way his eyes roamed over you, dark with want, made a shiver run down your spine. He didn’t blink, didn’t even bother pretending to focus on the practice drills.
Instead, he was laser-focused on you.
You caught his gaze as you straightened up, standing tall with a cocky smirk tugging at your lips. His eyes stayed glued to you, a hungry look darkening his features. You felt a thrill rush through you, knowing you had his full attention, knowing he was checking you out in front of everyone. Your body burned under the weight of his stare, heat pooling low in your belly. It was addictive, the way he looked at you like he wanted to devour you right there in the middle of the gym.
You could feel Jeno’s eyes on you too, burning with barely concealed jealousy as he watched the unspoken tension pass between you and Mark. But you didn’t stop. You didn’t care. The power you felt from knowing Mark couldn’t keep his eyes off you only fueled you more. The harder Jeno stared, the deeper you sank into your movements, stretching further, leaning into the seductive rhythm of the routine.
And then it happened—Mark, distracted, let the basketball slip from his grip. The sound of it bouncing toward you pulled you from your trance just in time to see it come flying in your direction. You barely had time to react, the ball missing you by mere inches, the whoosh of air sending your hair flying.
The entire gym fell silent.
All eyes were on you now, the attention turning from curious whispers to outright gawking. The cheerleaders stopped mid-practice, their gazes shifting from you to Mark, wondering what the hell was going on. The basketball team paused, a few muttered chuckles floating through the air as the ball rolled to a stop at your feet.
Mark was still staring, his eyes now filled with something darker, more heated than before. The moment felt charged, the tension between you two palpable, hanging thick in the air. You could feel the weight of everyone’s gaze, their confusion, their curiosity. But none of that mattered. All you could think about was the way Mark was looking at you—like he was undressing you with his eyes, like he couldn’t get enough.
You huffed, breaking the silence with a sarcastic snort. “Nice arms,” you quipped, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to shake off the tension.
Mark didn’t smile, didn’t laugh. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear it, his gaze burning into yours with a quiet intensity. “Nice ass,” he murmured, his voice dripping with something dangerous, something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the air between you two thickening with a different kind of tension. You could feel the flush rising in your cheeks, the way your body responded to the boldness of his statement, to the low rasp of his voice. Your throat tightened, and for a split second, you forgot where you were, forgot that the entire gym was watching, that Jeno’s eyes were on you, burning with fury.
You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, you stood there, locked in Mark’s gaze, the heat between you almost suffocating. It was subtle, so subtle that no one else in the gym could pick up on the charged moment passing between you two. But you felt it. You knew it. And from the way Mark’s eyes stayed on yours, dark and hungry, you knew he felt it too.
The whispers around you grew louder, and you could feel the cheerleaders and basketball players glancing at each other, sensing the tension but not quite understanding it. But the look on Jeno’s face said it all. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed with a mix of anger and suspicion as he watched the two of you, his body tense with barely concealed rage.
You could feel the weight of Jeno’s stare as he marched toward you, his presence heavy and commanding. “Let’s go,” he snapped, grabbing your arm, his grip firm as he pulled you toward him, his frustration barely hidden beneath the surface. He didn’t even glance at Mark, but you could feel the seething anger radiating off him in waves.
Mark’s eyes didn’t waver. He watched as Jeno led you away, his gaze steady, like he was daring you to say something, to do something. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The air between you and Mark was thick with tension, the kind that lingered even as you walked away, Jeno’s grip tightening on your arm as if to remind you of where you were supposed to be.
──────────────────────────────
It’s late, and your apartment smells faintly of the popcorn Karina had insisted on making. Your legs are lazily draped across her lap as she scrolls through her phone. A few of the other girls are scattered around the room—Winter, Ryujin, and Ningning—chatting animatedly, their voices buzzing like static. You’re not particularly invested in the conversation, but you’re here anyway. You couldn’t avoid it. It’s part of the routine.
The girls gossip about the usual—boys, parties, and who’s been hooking up with whom. But tonight, there’s a different energy in the room. They all have questions about what had happened earlier, and you can feel their curious stares burning into you.
“What was that about?” Winter is the first to ask, raising an eyebrow in your direction.
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. You know exactly what she’s referring to, but you don’t really know how to answer. To you, it was nothing. Of course, Mark would make a comment like that. You looked hot today, and he’d noticed. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Winter presses on, unwilling to let it go. “You can’t tell me it was nothing, especially after seeing how Jeno dragged you out? I wonder what happened after that.”
You glance at her and sigh, deciding to give her the raw, unfiltered truth. “Nothing,” you start, watching their eyes light up in anticipation. “At first, Jeno was mad, pissed even. But then I sucked his cock, and he fucked me against one of the lockers in the guys’ changing rooms.” You pause for effect, wiggling your eyebrows as you finish, “He’s definitely forgiven me.”
The girls burst into giggles, some of them clapping like you’ve just given them a piece of juicy gossip they’d been dying to hear. They choose to ignore the toxicity of it all, the fact that you and Jeno had been using sex as a band-aid for your issues for weeks now. You and Jeno barely talked anymore. Every argument, every moment of tension, was resolved with a quick fuck rather than any real conversation. But you don’t say that part. You leave that truth buried beneath the surface.
“So… Y/N, would it annoy you if I made a move on Mark?” Karina’s voice cuts through the laughter, sharp and filled with a hint of vindication as she looks at you from the corner of her eye.
You can’t help the way your face tightens, annoyance flashing across your expression before you can force it back down. You plaster on a smile, lying through gritted teeth. “No, why would it?”
Karina leans back, raising a perfectly arched brow as if she doesn’t believe you for a second. “Just seems like there’s something going on between you and Mark. He’s been staring at you non-stop lately.”
“Just seems like you and Mark have nothing in common,” you bite back, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “I don’t know why you’re suddenly interested in him now. Is it because he’s gotten more popular?”
Karina doesn’t flinch at your retort. Instead, she gives you a slow, deliberate smile. “Maybe,” she says, her voice cool, like she’s playing a game she knows she’ll win. “Or maybe it’s because I think he’s cute. And honestly? I’d love to take his virginity.”
Your chest tightens, a wave of something uncomfortable rippling through you. You weren’t expecting that. “Take his virginity?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady, but you can’t hide the slight edge in your tone.
Karina doesn’t miss it. She leans in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. You know, how fun it’d be to corrupt him. Break him in a little. He’s so… quiet. I bet he’s just waiting for someone to show him how it’s done.” Her voice dips lower, more seductive. “Imagine his hands on you, not knowing what to do at first, but learning… fast.”
The other girls are eating it up, hanging onto every word Karina says. They laugh and nod along, and Winter even adds a low whistle.
“Girls…” Winter chimes in, her tone playful. “I don’t think he’s a virgin. It’s always the quiet ones with the big cocks who know exactly what they’re doing.” She sighs dramatically, leaning back into the couch, adding a moan for effect. “I bet he knows how to use it too.”
You roll your eyes. “No, he’s definitely a virgin. I can tell.”
The room fills with chatter as the girls go back and forth, arguing over whether Mark is as inexperienced as you claim or secretly a sex god in disguise. The conversation takes on a life of its own, filled with explicit fantasies and wild speculation.
“Honestly, there’s a rumor going around that he’s fucking Giselle,” Ryujin adds, her tone more serious, like she’s spilling some kind of secret.
“Giselle?” Ningning scoffs. “Please. She’ll fuck anyone with a cock.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s been so chill lately,” Winter says, laughing. “He’s getting laid!”
The conversation feels like it’s spiraling, the air heavy with innuendo and teasing, and you can’t help but feel a flicker of irritation beneath the surface. You’re trying to laugh along with them, trying to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of Mark with someone else.
But the truth is, you don’t really know what to feel. You’ve been keeping your distance from Mark, trying to navigate your mess of a relationship with Jeno, but there’s something undeniable growing between you and Mark. Something you can’t quite put your finger on.
Karina leans in closer, her voice low. “Come on, Y/N,” she says, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. About what it’d be like with him.”
You glance around the room, the girls all watching you expectantly, and for a moment, you feel cornered. The weight of their expectations pressing down on you.
You shrug, trying to play it off. “Like I said, he’s probably a virgin. Nothing to think about.”
“Virgin or not,” she says, her lips curling into a smirk, “he’s still hot. And honestly, I think the quiet ones are always the best in bed. All that pent-up energy…” She trails off, her voice laced with suggestion as she winks at Winter, who giggles.
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the sudden heat rising in your chest. The last thing you want is to picture Mark like that—especially not with Karina talking about him like he’s some kind of conquest. But the image creeps in, unbidden, and you quickly push it away.
“Anyways, I heard Jeno’s gonna invite him to his party this weekend,” Karina continues, her voice light and casual, but you can hear the underlying excitement. “I think I’ll make my move then.”
You groan, slapping your hand against your forehead. “Why is he inviting him?” you mutter under your breath. This wouldn’t end well—you could already see it.
Karina shrugs, her smirk widening as she leans back against the couch. “Shouldn’t you know? Aren’t you his girlfriend?” There’s a teasing edge to her voice, and it grates on your nerves, making your blood simmer just beneath the surface.
You clench your jaw, shaking your head as you try to ignore her, but the annoyance is creeping in, settling deep in your bones. You don’t want to think about Jeno, about Mark, about whatever mess you were tangled up in between them. And you definitely don’t want to think about Karina making a move on Mark at Jeno’s party.
“Yeah, well,” you mutter, standing up from the couch, “I’ve got bigger things to worry about than your little plan.” You cross the room and grab your phone from the coffee table, feeling the girls’ eyes on you the entire time.
Winter giggles softly behind you, her voice sing-song as she chimes in, “Come on, Y/N. We’re just messing with you. No need to get all worked up.”
You turn, giving them a forced smile, but the tension in your body refuses to dissipate. “I’m not worked up. Just… tired.”
Karina’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, her smirk still in place. “Sure,” she says slowly, like she knows more than she’s letting on. “Tired. Right.”
You let out a small sigh, knowing there’s no point in arguing with her. She thrives on this—the drama, the teasing, the tension. She always has. But right now, all you want is some space to clear your head.
You head toward the door, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. “I’ll catch you guys later,” you call over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.
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The music thumped through the walls of the house as you stood at the front door, adjusting your mini black skirt that barely covered anything. It was tight, short, and see-through, leaving little to the imagination. The lace thong you wore underneath was clearly visible if someone looked hard enough, and you had no doubt that people would be looking tonight. Paired with heels, your favorite jewelry, and a form-fitting top that highlighted every curve, you were dressed to kill.
Jeno opened the door, his expression softening into a smile as he took you in. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on the skirt, and you felt the heat already building between you two. He pulled you in for a kiss, his lips warm against yours as his hand slid down to rest on the small of your back, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin. The promise of what would happen later was clear in his touch.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured against your lips before pulling away to greet Karina and Winter behind you with a hug and a quick nod.
His eyes were back on you immediately, dark and filled with lust as they traced the lines of your daring outfit. You smiled giddily at him, excited for the night ahead. You already knew how the night would end—tangled in sheets with his body on top of yours, all heat and passion. It was the one thing you both were still good at, even when everything else seemed to be falling apart.
The party was already in full swing, the bass vibrating through the floors as the scent of alcohol and smoke filled the air. The lights were low, casting the room in a warm, golden glow, with people sprawled across the couches and dancing in the center of the living room. Laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses created a chaotic but comfortable atmosphere. You could feel the buzz of energy around you as you stepped further into the house, bodies pressed together as the night unfolded. You were already excited for the night, already anticipating the way things would go later with Jeno. The fire in his eyes told you everything you needed to know—tonight would be intense.
But then you noticed Mark.
He was across the room, dressed casually in jeans and a simple white t-shirt, but somehow he stood out more than anyone else. His presence seemed to fill the space around him, and your eyes found his before you even realized it. He wasn’t hiding the way he was looking at you either. His gaze trailed over your body, lingering on your legs, your hips, the tight skirt that hugged your every curve. There was something deliberate in the way he looked at you, and it made your heart skip a beat.
You huffed, quickly looking away, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. What were you doing? You were here with Jeno, after all. But when you turned back, you saw Jeno walking toward Mark, and your heart sank. You were ready for things to blow up, expecting another confrontation, but to your surprise, Jeno greeted him with a nod and an indifferent expression. At least they weren’t killing each other.
Just as you were about to relax, you saw that Mark wasn’t alone. A girl stood beside him—someone you didn’t recognize. She was quiet, her eyes wide as she glanced nervously around the room, like she wasn’t used to this kind of environment. There was something shy about her, something that made you uneasy for reasons you couldn’t explain.
Jeno greeted her too, his smile a bit too bright as he introduced himself. “I’m Jeno, nice to meet you.”
The girl smiled shyly and introduced herself, but there was something else—a quick, knowing look exchanged between her and Jeno. It was subtle, but you caught it, and it sent a strange jolt of unease through you. What was that about?
Shaking your head, you turned toward the kitchen, needing a drink to calm your nerves. You grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring yourself a shot and knocking it back quickly. Then another. You didn’t stop until the burn settled into your veins, dulling the edge of whatever was eating away at you.
Just as you set the bottle down, you felt the air shift—the unmistakable presence of Mark sliding in beside you, close enough that the warmth of his body brushed against yours. His voice cut through the noise, low and teasing, carrying that familiar edge that always seemed to pull your attention.
“Taking it a bit far tonight, aren’t we?” You turned your head slightly, catching the smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His eyes, dark and sharp, flickered between the empty shot glasses and then back to your face.
You rolled your eyes, feeling a familiar mix of irritation and something else—something that made your heart beat a little faster. “What do you care?” you shot back, but there was no bite in your voice. The warmth from the alcohol was already settling into your veins, and maybe that was why you felt more relaxed around him. Or maybe it was just him.
Mark leaned in closer, his arm brushing against yours as he rested his hand on the counter beside you. His scent—clean, warm, with a hint of something that made you want to lean in—filled the small space between you. “Just looking out for you,” he said, his voice casual, but the glint in his eyes told you there was more to it, lingering for a beat longer than necessary before returning to your eyes. It was subtle, but enough to send a small shiver down your spine. You swallowed, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest as you glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow.
“Looking out for me?” you echoed, your voice carrying a hint of sarcasm, masking the way his presence was making you feel things you weren’t ready to admit. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Why don’t you look out for your date?” you shot back, your voice betraying more jealousy than you intended.
Mark chuckled, the sound low and smooth, his attention fully on you. “She’s not my date,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes locked on yours.
You swallowed hard, caught off guard by how disarming he could be. “Who is she, anyway?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though the question lodged itself in your throat.
Mark glanced over his shoulder, nodding toward the girl he’d walked in with. “My best friend.”
You blinked, surprised by how easily he said it. You had assumed… well, something else entirely. “Oh,” you murmured, unsure how to respond.
Mark grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What? Did you think I’d bring a date to a party knowing you’d be here?”
You felt the heat creeping up your neck, but you quickly masked it with a small smile. “I didn’t think about it that much.”
“Sure you didn’t,” Mark said, his voice dipping lower as his gaze flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, sending a shiver through you.
The air between you felt charged, every unspoken word and lingering glance thick with an intensity neither of you was willing to name. The tension simmered quietly beneath the surface, weaving itself into the playful banter, the stolen glances. You both danced around it, staying in this delicate balance, where each smile, each teasing remark was a way to keep things light—yet everything about the moment felt intimate, personal. Neither of you dared to break the fragile line between what was said and what was truly felt.
But before you could say anything else, you felt a hand on your waist—Jeno.
You gasped softly, your mouth widening in surprise as you realized he had been watching you and Mark the whole time. His eyes were calm, surprisingly calm, but there was something underneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. You smiled brightly at Jeno, hoping to diffuse whatever tension was building. “Hey, baby. Do you want to dance?” you asked, your voice laced with forced cheer.
He shook his head, his expression soft yet serious. “Y/N, can we talk?”
You blinked, caught off guard by how gentle he was being. Jeno wasn’t usually like this—calm, collected. This was new. Maybe this was it, the turning point you’d been waiting for.
“Yeah, sure,” you said, following him as he led you upstairs to his room. Your heart pounded in your chest as Mark watched you go, his gaze heavy, but you didn’t turn back. You couldn’t.
Once inside Jeno’s room, you wasted no time, slipping your top over your head, your mind already racing toward what usually came next. You turned to him, expecting to see him ready to go, but instead, he sat at the edge of the bed, head lowered, fingers gripping his knees. His expression wasn’t what you were used to—stormy, tense. He wasn’t undressing. He wasn’t even looking at you.
Confused, you moved closer, kneeling in front of him. Your hands reached for his belt instinctively, trying to pull him out of his mood the way you always did. “Jeno, come on,” you murmured softly. “Let me suck you off. I’ll make you forget whatever’s on your mind.”
But instead of the usual eager response, his hand gently covered yours, stopping you. He shook his head, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “Y/N, not tonight.”
You paused, your hands frozen mid-movement. “Jeno?”
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “Sit down, Y/N.” His voice was soft, but firm as he gently pushed your hands away, motioning for you to sit beside him. “We need to talk.”
Jeno ran his hand through his hair again, the tension in his posture evident. His gaze softened as he looked at you, the weight of his words settling between you both. “We need to stop, Y/N. Stop pretending we’re a compatible couple.”
You froze, your breath catching in your throat. “What are you talking about?” you whispered, though deep down, you knew exactly what he meant.
Jeno sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “You know it’s not working anymore. You feel it just as much as I do.” His eyes met yours, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the depth of his sadness. “We’ve been together for so long, but it’s not enough. It hasn’t been for a while.”
Tears immediately welled in your eyes as you shook your head, refusing to accept it. “But we’ve been together forever. We’re supposed to be together, Jeno. What do you mean it’s not enough?”
Jeno’s expression was full of regret, but his resolve didn’t waver. “I know it feels that way, but think about it. How many days have we really been happy lately? It’s just fights, making up through sex, and pretending everything’s fine. But it’s not. We both know that.”
You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. You didn’t want to admit he was right. “I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I can’t. I don’t know how to… I don’t know how to be without you.”
Jeno leaned forward, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said softly. “You still have me, okay? I still love you, and I always will. But we both deserve more than this. We deserve to be with someone who makes us happy, not just someone we’ve been with because it’s comfortable.”
The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and you let out a shaky breath, your chest tightening. You hated how much his words resonated with you. You hated that he was right. But what scared you more was facing the truth, admitting that your relationship with Jeno was broken, that it had been for a while.
“I can’t do this,” you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. “I’d rather just… I’d rather keep pretending. I can’t face the truth, Jeno. I don’t know how.”
His eyes softened even more, filled with understanding. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. You don’t have to lie to yourself, Y/N. It’s okay to admit that things are messed up. It’s okay to be scared.”
But that was the problem. You weren’t good at facing the truth, at being vulnerable. Emotional intimacy terrified you, and you’d spent so long hiding behind the idea that everything was fine, that you could just patch things up with sex and avoid the hard conversations. Being honest, being real—that was something you’d never been good at. You’d rather live in the illusion than face the mess underneath.
Jeno seemed to sense your hesitation, your fear. He gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as the sobs finally wracked your body. “I’m here,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m not leaving you. You’ll always have me, but this… this relationship, it’s not good for either of us. And it hasn’t been for a long time.”
You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat. The thought of not being with him terrified you more than you could admit. “I don’t want to be alone,” you whispered, the words broken between sobs. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“You’re not alone,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ll always be here for you. But we can’t keep doing this, pretending we’re happy when we’re not. It’s not fair to either of us.”
His words were like a dagger to your heart, twisting painfully because deep down, you knew he was right. But the truth was too heavy, too overwhelming. You’d spent so long avoiding it, pretending that everything was okay, that hearing it now felt like your world was crumbling.
“I still love you,” Jeno said, his voice steady despite the emotion in it. “I love you, but we need to stop hurting each other like this.”
You pulled back slightly, your tear-filled eyes meeting his. The sincerity in his gaze made it hurt even more. “But what do I do without you?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t know who I am without you, Jeno.”
He reached up, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks. “You’ll figure it out. And I’ll still be here, even if we’re not together like we used to be. You’re stronger than you think.”
You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you leaned back into him, unable to fully let go. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to admit that everything was falling apart. But Jeno was right—you were holding on to something that had died a long time ago, and the thought of letting go felt like losing a part of yourself.
For a long time, he just held you as you cried, his arms the only comfort you had left. But eventually, even that had to end. Jeno stood up, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back.
“I’m gonna go,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “Take some time for yourself. You’ll be okay, Y/N.”
You didn’t say anything, your throat too tight with the weight of everything. You just nodded, tears still falling as you watched him leave the room, his presence fading with each step. And as the door closed behind him, you felt the crushing weight of reality settle in, the silence echoing in your chest where your heart had been breaking all along.
You were alone. And for the first time, you couldn’t hide from the truth anymore.
Later that night, Mark finds you huddled on the ground, your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to hold it all in, but you’re failing. Your body shakes with sobs that you can’t control, and when you hear footsteps approaching, you tense up.
“Mark, now is not the time, please go away.” Your voice cracks as you cry out, lips trembling. You cover your face with your hands, not wanting him to see you like this, broken and vulnerable.
But Mark doesn’t leave. He doesn’t even hesitate. He gets closer, kneeling down beside you. The quiet rustle of fabric is the only sound, and you shiver as he drapes his jacket around your shoulders. It’s warm, and it smells like him—fresh and clean, grounding you in a way you didn’t expect.
“Jeno told me to come,” he explains softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You look up, confusion flooding your tear-streaked face. “What?” The question falls out, barely coherent, as you swipe at your face, painfully aware of how horrible you must look—mascara smudged, makeup streaked, and eyes puffy.
Mark doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he moves even closer, and before you know it, he’s pulling you into him, gently guiding you onto his lap. You don’t resist. His arms wrap around you, and you straddle him, your body sinking into his warmth as if it’s the only safe place you can find.
The sobs come harder now, uncontrollable, and you bury your face in his shoulder, clutching onto him like a lifeline. He holds you tight, one hand smoothing down your back, the other resting against your hair, cradling you like something fragile. His soft whispers, the way he gently hushes you, the quiet “it’s okay, I’m here,” all create this bubble around the two of you, making the world fade away for a moment.
Mark’s presence doesn’t fix anything, but it makes you feel less alone. There’s no judgment in his touch, no expectation. He lets you cry, lets you fall apart in his arms, and that’s what breaks you even more. You’ve been holding it in for so long, pretending everything was fine, pretending you were fine.
You don’t know how long you’ve been like this, pressed close to him, when he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “What happened?”
You suck in a breath, pulling back just slightly, though your forehead still rests against his. Your voice is small, fragile. “He broke up with me.”
Mark’s expression softens, his lips parting as he lets out a quiet “Oh.” There’s no surprise in his voice, only understanding, only compassion. He doesn’t try to fill the silence with meaningless words. Instead, his hand finds its way into your hair, gently smoothing it down, his touch so careful, as if he’s afraid to hurt you more than you already are.
He doesn’t ask for details, doesn’t push you to talk more. He just holds you, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you, offering you a calm in the midst of your storm. His fingers stroke through your hair, and his other arm is firm around your waist, keeping you anchored to him as you cry quietly into his neck.
And somehow, in the quiet of his embrace, with his soft breaths brushing against your skin, the weight of everything doesn’t feel quite as suffocating. The pain is still there, sharp and unrelenting, but Mark’s presence makes it bearable. He makes you feel seen, heard, like it’s okay to not have it all together.
For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself feel. You let yourself break. And Mark is there to catch every piece of you, holding you together when you can’t do it yourself.
The silence between you feels intimate, not awkward. It’s comforting, the kind of silence that says more than words ever could. His arms stay wrapped around you, and for now, that’s all you need. You just let him hold you.
“Mark,” you whisper, your voice shaky, barely audible as you shift closer to him. Your thighs press against his, caging him in. You bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension crackle between you, and notice his subtle groan as his hips press up slightly.
“Yeah?” he responds casually, though his voice is rougher, his restraint evident.
“You’re hard,” you mumble, your tone matching his, casual, as though stating a simple fact. The firmness presses against you, unyielding, hot even through the layers of fabric between you. The heat of him radiates into your skin, the outline unmistakable as it pushes against your thigh. Your words hang in the air, blending with the warmth that rises between you, making the closeness more intimate than it should be, despite the simplicity of the moment. The feeling is undeniable, solid and real, as though the space between you is shrinking with every breath.
Mark shifts slightly under you, groaning low in his throat. He doesn’t try to deny it. “Yeah, I am,” he says, his voice deeper now, gravelly. He lets out a slow breath before adding, “It’s because you’re—”
But before he can finish, you crash your lips against his, silencing him with a kiss so intense it feels like you’ve both been waiting for this moment forever. Already straddling his lap, you press yourself closer, your thighs locking around him tighter, your body molding against his. Your fingers curl into his hair, pulling him into you as if you’re afraid to let go.
Mark responds instantly, his mouth moving against yours with a passion that catches you off guard. His hands slide down to your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you even closer. The kiss is messy, intense—tongues tangling, soft moans escaping between your lips as the heat between you grows unbearable.
Your hips move of their own accord, grinding down on him, and you feel the hardness pressing against your core, making your breath hitch. His hands roam up your thighs, sliding under your skirt, pushing the flimsy fabric up higher until it’s barely covering you. He grabs your ass, squeezing hard as you rock your hips, the friction between you igniting every nerve in your body.
You moan softly into his mouth, the heat between you both growing unbearable. When Mark’s hand moves down to smack your ass, the sound is sharp and commanding, making your body jolt in response. “Mark,” you gasp, the name slipping out in a breathless moan. His name was a broken plea on your lips as his hands continue to roam, guiding your movements as you grind harder against him, feeling the friction build between your bodies.
His hands are everywhere—palming your ass, guiding your movements, pressing you harder against him as you grind down. The heat, the friction, the way he kisses you with an intensity and desperation—it all sends your mind spinning. You feel his desire in every touch, every grip on your skin, and you want more.
You arch your back, pressing your chest against his, the kiss growing even more desperate, your tongues tangling, breaths mingling as soft moans escape between your lips. His hands pull you closer, as if he can’t get enough of you, the tension building with every second, every movement.
Mark stands, lifting you effortlessly, his strong hands gripping your thighs as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. You can feel the heat of his body through his clothes, every hard muscle pressing against you. Before you even register what’s happening, he tosses you onto the bed, Jeno’s bed—and the realization of where you are only adds to the illicit thrill running through you.
You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. His chest is broad, his arms flexing with every movement, each line of his body carved like stone. Your gaze traces over the defined ridges of his abs, the muscles contracting with every deep breath he takes, and your heart races, pulse pounding in your ears.
Then your eyes drop lower, and you can’t help but stare at the bulge straining against his jeans. The thick, undeniable outline is impossible to ignore, and the sight makes your breath hitch, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as your anticipation skyrockets. The raw need between your legs intensifies, and you press your thighs together instinctively, biting your lip as you imagine what’s coming next.
Mark moves closer, his hands reaching down to undo his belt, the metal clinking as he loosens it. But just as his fingers graze the zipper, you catch the flicker of doubt in his eyes. It’s subtle, just a brief hesitation, but it’s enough to shift the atmosphere. The dangerous, primal intensity in his gaze softens, and for a moment, he looks at you—not with the hunger you’ve seen, but with something deeper, more conflicted.
You don’t say anything, but you feel the weight of the moment hanging between you. His hand pauses at his waistband, and he swallows hard, his jaw clenching. The air thickens with the tension of everything unspoken, and for the first time, you both hesitate, the thrill of the moment colliding with the reality of where you are—of who you are.
Mark leans over you, his hand brushing against your cheek, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast to the heat that had been building just moments before. His thumb runs over your lower lip, lingering there as if he’s warring with himself, battling between desire and restraint.
“We can’t,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost regretful.
You blink, still lost in the heat of the moment, your body screaming for more even as his words register in your mind. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice breathless. You reach for him again, your fingers already working on the button of his jeans. “Come on, Mark… we don’t need to stop. I’m on the pill so you can cum inside of me, I don’t mind.”
His groan is deep, almost pained, as he steps back. One hand drags down his face, his frustration clear as he shakes his head. “It’s not that,” he mutters, his gaze conflicted. “You just broke up with Jeno—he’s my brother. And we’re in his room. You really want this to happen here? You want me to fuck you on his bed?”
Your response is immediate, unwavering. “Yes.”
He stares at you, huffing out a breath of disbelief. “Y/N…” he starts, voice softer now, laced with something between guilt and restraint. “No. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. Not like this.”
For a moment, everything pauses. The weight of his words crashes over you, bringing with it a wave of reality you’ve been avoiding. The intensity of what almost happened—the way you nearly crossed a line that, once crossed, couldn’t be undone. Embarrassment starts to creep in, settling in your chest like a heavy stone.
You sit up, hurriedly pulling your clothes back on, avoiding his eyes as the thrill of the moment fades, replaced by a deep ache you didn’t expect. The tension between you feels different now—charged, yes, but laced with something more painful. Something you can’t quite name.
Mark doesn’t say anything as he watches you, his chest still rising and falling heavily, the conflict clear in his eyes. You know he wants you, you felt it, but there’s a line he won’t cross. Not like this. And you hate that it makes sense. You hate that he’s right.
As you stand, buttoning your skirt, you bite your lip, fighting the urge to cry. You weren’t ready for all of this to stop so abruptly. You didn’t want to face the truth of the situation or the complicated mess your feelings had become. And more than anything, you didn’t want to be alone tonight.
“Do you want to come to mine?” you ask, the words shaky, but you force them out. There’s a part of you that fears he’ll refuse, that this will be the moment everything falls apart completely. But you can’t help but hope he’ll still want you, even if not here. Not like this.
For a long moment, he doesn’t answer. His expression is unreadable, his eyes searching yours for something you’re not sure you can give. The silence stretches, your heart pounding in your chest, the fear of rejection threatening to overwhelm you.
Then, finally, he nods, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand reaches out, offering to help you up, and for the first time since this whole mess started, there’s a flicker of tenderness in his gaze.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, his voice soft, yet sure. “Let’s go.”
Relief washes over you as you take his hand, the touch of his fingers grounding you, soothing the frayed edges of your emotions. As he helps you stand, the tension between you shifts again—not gone, but different. The heat is still there, simmering under the surface, but it’s mixed with something softer now, something that feels more real.
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Back at your apartment, the quiet felt almost surreal after the chaos of the night. The familiar warmth of your space wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, a stark contrast to the lingering tension still buzzing between you and Mark. You felt the shift in the air the moment you stepped through the door—the atmosphere was softer, quieter, more intimate, and the reality that it was just the two of you sank in.
Mark followed you inside, his eyes taking in your surroundings with quiet interest. The apartment was all yours for the night, a small comfort in itself, and you were already beginning to sober up. Mark, as if reading your mind, immediately took care of you, handing you a bottle of water. “You need this,” he said softly, his tone gentle, but there was an undercurrent of care in his voice that made your chest tighten.
You took small sips, the cool water refreshing as it slid down your throat, grounding you back to the present. Meanwhile, Mark wandered around your room, and you couldn’t help but watch him, feeling something shift between the two of you.
Your space was a reflection of you—a safe haven filled with little pieces of your world. The fairy lights you’d strung up glowed softly, casting a warm, golden hue over everything. The air smelled faintly of lavender, the scent of your candles lingering in the air. Your walls were lined with your art, pieces of yourself you rarely shared with anyone else. There were posters of abstract designs, dreamy landscapes, and sketches that felt like fragments of your soul on display.
Unique and delicate things decorated your shelves—a crystal lamp you had found at a flea market, a few small plants in pots you had painted yourself, and a collection of books you loved but hadn’t read in ages. The room felt like a mix of creativity and chaos, an organized mess that somehow made sense only to you.
Mark’s eyes moved from one corner to the next, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took everything in. He seemed fascinated by the art on your walls, lingering over certain pieces as if trying to figure out the stories behind them. You could see the admiration in his gaze, the way he appreciated your space without needing to say much.
“You really made this place your own,” he commented softly, running a hand over one of the posters, careful not to disturb it. “It’s beautiful..”
A warm flush crept up your neck at his words. You weren’t used to someone appreciating your space like this, not in such a genuine, heartfelt way. Mark wasn’t just complimenting the decor—he was complimenting you, the person who had created this world.
“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling shy all of a sudden. “It’s nothing special.”
Mark shook his head, still gazing around. “It’s special because it’s yours.” His voice was soft, sincere, and it made your heart do a strange, fluttery thing in your chest.
“Can you help me get my necklace off?” You ask, smiling as he’s already making his way over to you.
Mark’s fingers worked gently at the clasp of your necklace, his touch soft and deliberate. You tilted your head slightly, giving him better access as he carefully unhooked the delicate chain from around your neck. The warmth of his fingers brushing against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, but it wasn’t from the cold—it was the softness of the moment.
He moved slowly, taking the necklace and walking over to your jewellery stand. You watched as he placed it neatly on one of the hooks, his movements calm and precise, as if he had done this a hundred times before. There was something almost tender in the way he handled your things, treating them with care, as if they were an extension of you.
Mark turned back to you, his eyes soft as he reached for your earrings next. His fingers grazed your earlobe, and you held your breath, feeling the closeness between you both. The quiet of the room wrapped around the two of you, making the moment feel even more intimate. One by one, he removed each earring, placing them in their designated spot, never once rushing or making you feel hurried.
The silence was filled with unspoken words, a shared understanding that neither of you dared to voice. When he was done, he looked back at you with a small, almost shy smile. “There,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You needed to clear your head, to shake off the growing feelings you had for him, so you excused yourself to take a shower. As you stood under the warm spray, washing away the remnants of the night, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way Mark had looked at you. The way his presence had shifted from something casual and playful to something deeper, more intimate. The thought scared you, but it also made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.
When you finally stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a soft bathrobe, you found Mark sitting on your bed, strumming a gentle tune on a guitar. You paused, tilting your head in confusion. Where did he get that from? You didn’t remember him carrying a guitar around at the party or on the way home. Had you really been that out of it?
“Where did you get a guitar from?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as you watched him hum and play a melody, his fingers dancing over the strings with ease.
He looked up at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I always carry it around.”
You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed if you brought a guitar with you to the party.”
Mark chuckled, his laughter soft and infectious. “Maybe you weren’t paying attention.”
You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed. “So, you play basketball and the guitar?” you teased, feeling more relaxed now, the tension easing into something more playful.
He nodded, plucking a few more notes before setting the guitar down. “My major is music.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Okay, Troy Bolton.”
He chuckled along with you, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “It’s way past midnight,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, more serious. “You should get some sleep. Don’t you have lectures tomorrow?”
You shrugged, already feeling the weight of the day catching up to you. “I’m not going.”
Mark gave you a pointed look. “Don’t say that. Yes, you are.”
You sighed dramatically but didn’t argue. Instead, you moved to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers and sinking into the soft sheets. The warmth of the bed, combined with the softness of the moment, made your eyelids heavy with exhaustion.
As you began to drift off, you noticed Mark standing up, throwing a blanket onto the chair in the corner. You frowned, sitting up slightly. “You don’t need to sleep there,” you whispered, your voice soft and almost shy. “Come here. There’s so much space in my bed.”
He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a small smile. “It’s literally a single bed.”
You rolled your eyes, patting the space beside you. “I just want someone to hold me so I can sleep.”
For a moment, Mark hesitated, his eyes searching yours. But then he sighed, his expression softening as he crossed the room and slipped under the covers beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a way that made your heart race, but also made you feel safe.
Mark held you tightly, his arms pulling you closer, enveloping you in his warmth. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the soothing rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in so long. His breath was warm against your forehead, gentle, almost protective, as he leaned in and whispered, “Sleep well, Y/N.”
The sound of his voice, low and intimate, sent a soft shiver down your spine. His words weren’t just a wish; they felt like a promise, like he was going to hold you through the night and keep you safe.
His hand, large and warm, rested softly on your waist, fingers brushing against the bare skin under your shirt with the lightest of touches. It was a subtle, almost unconscious gesture, but the intimacy of it sent your heart fluttering. He didn’t pull away; he stayed close, his body pressed gently against yours, grounding you in the moment. Every small shift of his body, every breath he took, seemed to ease the tension that had been weighing on you for so long.
You let your hand rest on top of his, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. His fingers instinctively intertwined with yours, the touch delicate yet reassuring. It was more than just physical contact—it was the silent understanding that you weren’t alone anymore, that he was here, holding you through it all.
His lips brushed lightly against your forehead, a featherlight kiss that made your heart swell. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in his tone wrapped around you like a blanket.
With a soft sigh, you let yourself relax completely, your body melting into his. You could feel the last remnants of stress slipping away, replaced by the steady, calming presence of Mark beside you. His embrace was warm, solid, and it made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t in what felt like forever.
As your eyes fluttered closed, you let yourself fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, your mind finally quiet, the weight of the world finally slipping away, knowing he would be there when you woke.
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authors note — surprise!! i’ve been teasing this one for a while and just wanted to drop it without any prior warning :) this is gonna be a long ride and have many more parts so comment if you want to be on the tag list :) send an ask through telling me what you thought or interact !! thank you
genre — smut, fluff, explicit sexual content, soft sex, dirty talk, praise, the softest dad! jaehyun ever. prepare for your cheeks to hurt due to how much you’re smiling
synopsis — it’s the early hours of christmas morning, the house still and quiet, your kids asleep down the hall, but you and jaehyun can’t resist each other. tangled in the sheets, the soft glow of christmas lights spilling through the window, he fucks you slow and deep, his hand over your mouth to stifle the moans threatening to slip free. every thrust is deliberate, every roll of his hips leaving you trembling as he whispers filthy promises into your ear—reminding you that you’re his, and on a morning meant for giving, he’s the only one who gets to have you like this.
The house feels different on Christmas morning, like it holds its breath in anticipation. Everything exists in a kind of suspended quiet—warm, still, waiting. The glow of the tree downstairs lingers through the dark, the faintest twinkle filtering up the staircase, the stockings hung neatly beneath it, already stuffed with small treasures you spent weeks collecting. And while the world outside feels cold, coated in frost and snowflakes clinging to windows, this house—your home—is filled with a kind of tender warmth, the kind that settles deep and lingers long after the gifts are unwrapped.
It’s always the same this time of year, a quiet joy that builds long before the morning itself: the late-night wrapping sessions, the secret whisper of scissors gliding through paper in the middle of the night, Jaehyun holding down tape with far more pride than precision, his brows furrowed as he muttered about “getting better at this next year.” You’d watched him with soft amusement, quietly fixing bows when he wasn’t looking, the two of you stealing lazy kisses between unwrapping rolls of ribbon.
This morning is no different, except now, Jaehyun lies beside you, the weight of his body warm and steady, his chest rising and falling in soft, even breaths. You can hear it faintly—the quiet creak of floorboards as one of your kids rolls over in bed, and it makes you smile, already able to picture them. The way their hair sticks up in sleepy disarray, their cheeks still flushed with sleep, small hands clutching their blankets as they dream of the morning to come. You’d tucked them in last night together, Jaehyun humming quietly as he bent low to kiss foreheads, his voice soft as he whispered promises of Santa, of surprises waiting under the tree.
Jaehyun as a father is something that still overwhelms you in ways you don’t know how to put into words. He’s steady and patient, always there to tie shoes or wipe away tears, to carry their small bodies on his back until his arms ache. He loves fiercely but quietly, always slipping small notes into lunchboxes or adjusting scarves so they don’t fall loose. You’ve caught him kneeling beside toy kitchens and dollhouses, pretending to drink invisible tea with a smile that makes your heart twist painfully in your chest. At night, when the world quiets, he reads stories aloud, his voice low and soothing, lulling your little ones to sleep while you watch from the doorway, overwhelmed by the kind of love you didn’t know could exist.
And Christmas—it’s Jaehyun’s favorite, something you didn’t expect when you first met him. He treats it like a sacred tradition, something delicate and worth protecting. He’s the one who insists on stringing lights across the house, who lifts your kids up on his shoulders so they can place the star at the top of the tree, who carefully leaves half-eaten cookies out so they’ll wake up believing, just a little longer, in magic. “They’re only small for a while,” he told you once, after you’d found him carefully rearranging their stockings for the third time. “I want them to remember this feeling forever.”
Now, curled beneath the blankets in the dim glow of morning, you feel him shift behind you, the warmth of his body wrapping around yours like a second skin. His arm slides tighter around your waist, his palm splayed wide over your stomach, fingers spreading like he’s trying to anchor you there, closer, closer still. He exhales softly, lips finding your bare shoulder with a tenderness that feels practiced, instinctive, like kissing you is as natural to him as breathing. His mouth lingers there, warm and lazy, the faintest brush of his nose tracing along your skin before he murmurs, “You’re awake,” the words low and rough with sleep, vibrating softly against you. His voice settles deep, threading through your bones, wrapping you in a warmth that feels heavier than the blankets, more intimate than the dark stillness of the room.
“Mm,” you hum, a small smile tugging at your lips as you press yourself closer into him, your body fitting against his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Just listening.”
He doesn’t ask what you’re listening to. He knows. The house holds its breath in the quiet, every second stretching thin and fragile. You’re listening for the soft shuffle of small feet across the hall, for the rustle of sheets being kicked off, for a cough or a sniffle or the creak of a door that would signal the end of this stolen moment. You’re listening to the absence of it, to the sweet silence of your children still lost in sleep, their steady breathing faint through the thin walls. It’s a habit you can’t shake, your ears always tuned to their presence, always one sound away from slipping back into mom-mode.
But Jaehyun can feel it—how half your attention lingers down the hall, how part of you teeters between surrendering to him and being ready to pull away. His smile presses into the curve of your neck, warm and knowing, as his hand slides slowly along your waist, fingers tracing aimless, feather-light patterns that make you shiver. “They’re gonna wake up soon,” he mutters, his voice a teasing rasp, though there’s a promise there too, soft but possessive.
“I know,” you whisper, tilting your head just slightly to give him more, your breath hitching as his lips trail higher, up the line of your neck to brush just beneath your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut, your body melting into the way he holds you, into the soft weight of him pressed against your back.
But Jaehyun doesn’t stop—he never does. His hand disappears beneath the sheets, slipping low to spread wide across your stomach, his touch heavier now, deliberate. He pulls you back against him, hips flush to yours, so close you can feel the heat of him, the unmistakable hardness pressing insistently against you. His breath fans warm over your ear, each word curling into you like smoke. “Not yet, though,” he murmurs, voice laced with that dark, lazy grin that always unravels you. “Right now, you’re mine.”
The edge of his teeth grazes your neck, deliberate and featherlight, just enough to make you shiver as the air leaves your lungs in a quiet, uneven breath. His hand dips lower, fingertips teasing circles along your skin, skimming the space where your waistband meets your hips, his touch unhurried but possessive, as if mapping every inch of you for himself. He doesn’t let you answer, doesn’t give you room to protest—he only lets the silence stretch thin, sharpening the tension in the dark until it hums between you like something alive.
The bed shifts beneath his weight as he moves on top of you, his chest brushing yours as he rises just enough to sit back on his heels, the blankets slipping from his shoulders in one slow sweep. The pale glow filtering through the window casts shadows across his bare skin, sharp lines where muscle flexes beneath the surface, his eyes dark as they sweep over you. Without a word, his hands find the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head in one fluid motion before he leans back down, his hands sliding beneath the fabric of your own top.
“Jae—” you whisper, the sound more breath than word, but he only silences you with the barest shake of his head, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he pushes your shirt up, his knuckles grazing your ribs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“You sure they’ll stay asleep?” you murmur, your voice low, hesitant, the question pulled from you as his mouth finds the space just below your collarbone, warm and wet, leaving kisses that linger and heat your skin like a slow burn.
“Yeah,” Jaehyun murmurs against you, his voice dark and lazy, vibrating where his lips press against you. “If we stay quiet.”
“Jaehyun…”
“They slept past their bedtime yesterday,” he reminds you, his tone soft but teasing as his thumb drags along the sensitive curve of your waist. “Completely engrossed in all those Christmas movies. Trust me—” He presses a kiss between your breasts, his teeth grazing just enough to make your body arch faintly into him. “—they’ll be flat out until later.”
You hesitate for the barest moment, torn between the logic of it and the warmth already building low in your stomach, but Jaehyun looks up at you then, his gaze steady and heavy with intent, and something in your chest gives.
“Okay,” you whisper, the word slipping from you like surrender.
The grin that flickers across his face is quick and devastating, gone almost as soon as it appears as he leans in to kiss you—soft at first, like a test, his lips brushing against yours so gently it borders on teasing. But then you sigh into it, your arms winding around his neck, and Jaehyun deepens the kiss, his mouth claiming yours with something darker, more consuming. It lingers—unhurried and heavy with want—his tongue sweeping against yours as his weight presses you further into the mattress.
His hand finds your waist again, his palm sliding over the dip of your stomach to your hips, fingers digging into the bare skin there as he tugs you flush against him, letting you feel the hard press of him where he grinds against you through the thin barrier of fabric.
“Jaehyun, we can’t…” you whisper again, a half-hearted protest, the words shaky as his mouth trails down to your jaw, your neck, each kiss slower, wetter, leaving a heat in their wake that has your body squirming beneath him. “Our babies—”
He only grins against your skin, unbothered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Then be quiet, baby. Don’t want to wake them up, do you?”
The words send a jolt through you, molten and sharp, sinking low and deep, until all you can do is cling to him as he rolls his hips against you, the movement purposeful enough to make you bite down on your lip to stifle the sound threatening to escape. Jaehyun pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze lingering on your face as his hand slips lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your clothes, dragging them down with slow, deliberate intent.
“You’re mine for now,” he whispers, his voice soft, but it carries weight, curling around you as he claims every inch of you with his touch, his gaze, his words. “Don’t think about anything else. Just me.”
Now, there’s nothing innocent about the way he presses into you, his bare chest flush against yours, pinning you into the mattress like he’s daring you to challenge him, to tell him to stop. The deliberate drag of his hips is slow and devastating, a rhythm that borders on cruel—each roll sinks him deeper, forcing you to take all of him, inch by inch, until you’re trembling beneath him, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in a desperate effort to keep the sounds inside.
The only light comes from the window, where the neighbors’ Christmas lights bleed through the curtains in soft, shifting patterns, painting streaks of gold and crimson across his shoulders, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. The bed creaks faintly, betraying each movement, the sound almost sinful in the stillness of the house. The sweat-slicked sheets are tangled around your thighs, twisting as your legs lock tighter around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him closer.
“Jaehyun!!!” you scream, the word dragged from your lips like a confession, a sound too raw, too loud for a house steeped in this kind of silence. It splits the air, reckless and dangerous, and for a moment, everything freezes.
He reacts before you can take another breath, his hand clamping over your mouth, fingers spread firm across your cheek, pressing you down, holding you still. He pauses, just long enough to meet your gaze, his weight anchoring you to the mattress as he looms above you. The gold and crimson light spilling through the window catches on his face, shadowing the sharpness of his jaw, the focus in his eyes—dark, unrelenting, like he’s daring you to make another sound.
“Don’t,” he murmurs, the single word falling low and measured, heavy with warning. His thumb brushes over your cheek, almost tender, a contrast to the authority in his voice. He leans closer, his mouth grazing your ear as he says, softer now but no less firm, “You’ll wake our babies.”
The words hit like a stone dropped into water, rippling through you, sharp and grounding. Our babies. Your chest rises in a shuddering breath beneath his weight, the sound muffled against his palm. The reminder of them—safe, sleeping, dreaming their little Christmas dreams just down the hall—only sharpens the tension that coils low in your stomach, the ache that pulses where Jaehyun fills you, so deep it feels impossible.
You can only gulp, eyes wide, breath hitching against his palm as he pushes forward again, slow and unrelenting. The stretch of him leaves you trembling, heels digging into the backs of his thighs in a silent plea for more. You don’t dare speak—you can’t—but Jaehyun sees it anyway, the need written across your face, in the way your fingers claw at his shoulders, your body arching into him despite the weight holding you down.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper, like he’s talking only to himself. “You feel that? The way I’m stretching you open?” He groans softly when you clench around him, his forehead dropping to yours, damp hair brushing your temple. “You like it, don’t you? When I take my time with you—when I make you feel everything.”
“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice low, thick with the same need that bleeds through his. “I love it.” Your nails drag slowly down his back, not enough to hurt, but enough to pull a sharp breath from his chest. “The way you fill me up—” your voice drops further, a quiet, deliberate murmur, your lips brushing his ear as you speak, “—the way you make me take all of you.”
A whimper slips past your lips, muffled against his hand, and Jaehyun grins, slow and wicked, like he’s winning something you didn’t realize you were fighting for. “I knew you would.” His thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, smearing the dampness collecting there as his hips roll forward again, sinking him impossibly deeper, until there’s nowhere left for him to go. “You’re mine, baby. Doesn’t matter what day it is—Christmas morning, Easter, your fucking birthday—you belong to me.”
The words hit you like a spark, flaring deep inside you and leaving you breathless, your body shuddering beneath him. The kids. The house. The stillness. It all feels so far away when Jaehyun has you like this, caging you beneath him with his body, his voice, his touch. The deliberate drag of his cock against your walls is maddening, each thrust perfectly timed to pull you apart inch by inch, your quiet gasps swallowed by his palm.
The weight of his hips betrays the softness of his voice. He rolls forward, slow and deliberate, forcing his cock into you inch by inch, dragging out the stretch until it borders on unbearable. Your body trembles beneath him, the sheets twisted and damp beneath you, legs shaking as you hook your heels behind his thighs, trying to pull him closer.
“Impatient,” he mutters, the corner of his mouth tugging into a crooked grin as he watches you fight for control, every inch of your body clinging to him. “But you like it like this, don’t you? Slow.” He thrusts again, deep and precise, filling you so completely that your breath stutters against the palm of his hand. “Like I’ve got all the time in the world to fuck you open.”
The house is cloaked in a silence so fragile it feels like it might shatter at the slightest sound. The soft creak of the bed beneath you rises with every movement, every deliberate snap of his hips against yours. Beyond the window, the faint glow of Christmas lights from the house across the street spills into the room—red, gold, green—turning Jaehyun’s shoulders into something sculpted and painted, his damp skin catching the light in streaks of color.
The weight of him bears down on you like a force of nature, his forearm braced beside your head, veins flexing beneath his skin. He shifts, hand sliding from your cheek to brush a thumb along the corner of your mouth, smearing the dampness that lingers there. “So quiet now,” he breathes, though the cruel glint in his eye tells you he’s not satisfied. “You were whining a minute ago. Where’d that go, baby?”
He grinds his hips against you, pelvis catching against your clit in a slow, maddening rhythm that has you bucking beneath him, hands clawing at his back, his shoulders, anything you can reach. His hand tightens on your face, thumb pressing into your cheek until your eyes snap open, meeting his gaze.
“Good girl.” The words are a murmur, dark and warm, dragging over you like silk and fire. “Eyes on me when I’m talking to you.”
Your voice is a muffled sob against his palm as he thrusts harder, the sound of him fucking into you slick and obscene in the quiet room. His rhythm is relentless now—slow, yes, but unforgiving in its precision, each roll of his hips pressing you further into the mattress, each drag of his cock against your walls forcing a tremor to race through your body.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Jaehyun’s voice is strained, barely more than a groan as he drops his head, forehead brushing yours. His hand moves down your body, fingers trailing across your skin until they find your clit, circling it with lazy, practiced pressure. The sudden contact makes your thighs clamp around his waist, your entire body jerking as the pleasure coils tighter in your stomach. “That’s it. There you are. I feel you, baby—clenching around me like you don’t want me to leave. You want more, don’t you?”
You nod frantically, tears welling in your eyes as you fight the overwhelming tension building inside you. It’s too much—his cock filling you with every brutal thrust, the pressure on your clit threatening to split you apart, the weight of his body pressing you into the bed until you can barely breathe. You try to speak, but all that escapes is a fractured, gasping whimper.
“Use your words,” Jaehyun mutters, his thumb still working slow circles against you, his pace unrelenting. “Tell me what you want. I know you can.”
“More,” you choke out, your voice cracking, raw and wrecked. “Please, Jaehyun.”
The sound he makes is low and guttural, like the words snap something inside him. “Fuck,” he growls, and his hand leaves your face to slip behind your knee, pulling your leg higher to spread you wider beneath him. The new angle has him sinking impossibly deeper, hitting a spot that makes your back arch and your fingers dig helplessly into his skin.
“That’s what you want, huh?” he taunts, though his voice shakes, strained at the edges as he fights for control. “You want me to ruin you? Want me to keep fucking you until you can’t take it anymore?”
“Yes,” you sob, the word barely more than a breath as the tension in your core tightens, tightens, tightens—your body trembling beneath him, every nerve pulled taut, the heat in your stomach coiling dangerously. You cling to him, fingers curling into the damp skin of his back, desperate for something to ground you. Jaehyun doesn’t relent, doesn’t waver; his movements are steady, deliberate, dragging you closer and closer to the edge without letting you fall.
Jaehyun leans down, lips brushing the corner of your mouth as his thumb presses harder against your clit, matching the relentless snap of his hips. “Cum for me,” he growls, his voice rough and low, his own restraint slipping as his thrusts grow erratic. “Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel you.”
You shatter. The orgasm crashes through you with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs, your entire body locking up as white-hot pleasure pulses through you, wave after wave, leaving you gasping, writhing beneath him. You don’t know if you’re crying or moaning or screaming, but Jaehyun’s groan rips through the haze, his hips stuttering as he thrusts deep, burying himself inside you one last time as he follows you over the edge.
The room hangs heavy with the kind of stillness that feels earned—weighted, charged, intimate. Your breath mingles with his, shallow and uneven, the space between your bodies nonexistent as Jaehyun’s weight presses into you, skin damp and clinging to yours like it belongs there. His forehead drops to the crook of your neck, and you feel the tremor in him, the faint shudder that mirrors your own, his chest rising and falling against yours in sync.
“You good?” he rasps, voice rough and low, like it’s been dragged across gravel. The words are barely there, a whisper that seems to settle on your skin, warm and grounding.
You hum faintly, your lips parting on a breathless exhale as your hand drifts to the back of his neck, fingers threading slowly through the sweat-damp strands of his hair. The faintest noise escapes him—something between a sigh and a groan—as he melts further into you, his mouth brushing lazily along the slope of your shoulder, teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver through you.
The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s heavy, comfortable, broken only by the faint crack of the heater warming the room and the quiet rhythm of your breathing as it begins to steady. The glow of the Christmas lights still bleeds through the window, streaks of red and gold spilling over the mess of sheets, over Jaehyun’s bare back, catching on the curve of your hip, your thighs tangled with his beneath the blankets.
He doesn’t move, his arm draped possessively across your waist, fingers tracing mindless patterns against your skin. There’s something grounding in it, the way his touch lingers—lazy but deliberate, like he refuses to let you slip away.
“Merry Christmas,” he mutters suddenly, the words mumbled into the crook of your neck, a teasing lilt curling at the edges of his voice.
You smile, slow and tired, your hand still buried in his hair as you press your lips to his temple, lingering there. “Merry Christmas, Jaehyun,” you whisper back, soft enough to match the glow of the room around you.
His grin widens against your skin, and there’s a new weight to the way he shifts, his hand drifting lower, fingers curving along the swell of your hip with intent that feels impossible to miss. “You know…” he drawls, his voice low, smooth, his lips grazing your jaw as he pulls you tighter against him, “…I think I still owe you one more present.”
“Jae—” you start, half a protest, half a breathless laugh, but he cuts you off with a roll of his hips, slow and teasing, leaving no doubt as to exactly what he means.
The moment shatters with the soft patter of tiny feet in the hall, quick and deliberate, growing louder as they near the bedroom door. You freeze beneath Jaehyun’s weight, the shared rhythm of your breaths slowing as you both listen, waiting. He doesn’t move yet, his chest still pressed to yours, the heavy warmth of him a quiet comfort.
And then—
“Mama! Daddy!”
Your son’s voice bursts through the quiet like a firework, bright and alive. The door swings open with an eager shove, crashing into the wall as he barrels into the room, a little storm of energy and wonder. He’s all tangled hair and oversized pajamas, the pants slipping slightly with every step, but he doesn’t care. “Santa came! He came!”
Before you can react, he’s already climbing up, hands and knees sinking into the mattress as he scrambles toward the middle of the bed. His small chest rises and falls in quick bursts, his face glowing with excitement, round eyes impossibly wide as though the magic of it all is too big to contain. “Santa came,” he repeats, breathless, his fists gripping the blanket near your waist as if he needs to hold onto something to keep from bursting.
Jaehyun stirs beside you, his arm sliding from your waist to prop himself up on an elbow. His hair is sticking up in every direction, but the slow smile that spreads across his face softens him, dimples carving deep into his cheeks as he looks at your son. “Santa came, huh?” he murmurs, his voice gravelly from sleep but threaded with warmth, like he can’t help but get caught in his son’s excitement.
“Yes!” your son shouts, nodding so fiercely he nearly topples over. “He left presents! I know it!”
Jaehyun’s grin widens, his expression lighting up in that easy way that always makes your chest tighten. “You’re sure?” he teases, sitting up a little further, his fingers ruffling the boy’s tangled hair. “You didn’t peek, did you?”
Your son freezes, the breath catching in his little chest, eyes going wide as though Jaehyun’s just accused him of something unforgivable. “No! I didn’t!” he insists, his voice rising an octave, equal parts indignant and scandalized. “Mama says Santa knows if you peek!”
“Smart mama,” Jaehyun murmurs, shooting you a playful glance before turning back to your son, his large hand cupping the back of the boy’s head as he gently tugs him closer. There’s no teasing in the way he pulls him in—just warmth, quiet and steady, as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to his temple. “I believe you, bud,” he whispers, his voice fond and so gentle it almost breaks you.
Your son melts into it, his earlier defensiveness slipping away as his small hands reach out, fisting lightly in Jaehyun’s shirt like he can’t get close enough. “I told sissy I didn’t peek,” he mumbles, softer now, the edge of his voice dipping into something sweet. “And I heard the reindeer, Daddy. I really did.”
But before Jaehyun can respond, there’s a softer sound—the faint shuffle of smaller feet. You look toward the doorway just in time to see your daughter trailing in after him, her stuffed bunny dangling from one hand, her movements slower, still heavy with sleep. She stops halfway into the room, her face a sleepy pout, cheeks flushed and eyes droopy as she blinks at the chaos.
“Daddy,” she mumbles, her voice small and scratchy. “Up.”
Jaehyun shifts instantly, a quiet laugh slipping from him as he stretches out an arm. “Oh, come here, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly tender. She toddles toward him, her steps uneven, the soft bounce of her bunny against the floor following her every move. When she reaches the edge of the bed, Jaehyun scoops her up, his large hands cradling her small frame as though she’s made of glass.
“There’s my princess,” he whispers, pulling her into his chest. She melts against him immediately, thumb slipping into her mouth as she nestles her cheek against his shoulder, her bunny now squished between them. “You’re still sleepy, huh?” he coos softly, his hand stroking slow circles up and down her back.
“Bubba loud,” she mutters faintly, her brows furrowing as she glares sleepily at her brother, thumb still tucked into her mouth.
Jaehyun grins, glancing down at the small, sleepy bundle tucked against him, her bunny squished tightly between her arm and his chest. “Bubba’s just excited,” he murmurs, kissing her hair again, his lips lingering there. “It’s Christmas, baby girl.”
She hums softly, her thumb slipping from her mouth as she shifts closer, curling herself tighter into him. “Cwissmas,” she mumbles, the word slurred but content, her face tucked beneath Jaehyun’s chin like it’s where she belongs.
Jaehyun’s smile deepens, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest as he tilts his head just enough to look down at her, his lips brushing her hair. “Christmas,” he murmurs gently, drawing the word out slowly, coaxing her with the softness of his voice. “Say it with me, baby. Christmas.”
She stirs faintly, her thumb slipping from her mouth as she blinks up at him, her big eyes hazy with sleep. “Cwiss…mas,” she mumbles again, her tiny voice uncertain but determined, her brows knitting in concentration.
“There you go,” Jaehyun praises softly, his hand gliding up to cradle the back of her head as he kisses her temple. “Christmas. Perfect, just like you.”
Her face tucks back under his chin, satisfied now, her little fingers curling tighter into his shirt. Jaehyun holds her closer, his voice nothing but a whisper. “That’s my girl. My smart, perfect girl.”
Your son, sprawled dramatically across the bed now, sighs loudly in response. “Daddy, she doesn’t get it.”
“She gets it,” Jaehyun replies gently, shooting you a grin over his daughter’s head as he rocks her faintly, her bunny tucked under her chin. “She’s just enjoying her Christmas cuddles, aren’t you, baby?”
Your son groans again, his hands tugging insistently at the blankets as he looks up at you with big, pleading eyes. “Mama, come on. We gotta go see the tree!”
You laugh softly, reaching out to smooth a hand over his messy hair. “We’ll go in a minute, sweetheart,” you murmur, and he pouts dramatically, flopping halfway into your lap with a mumbled complaint.
“She’s right, though,” Jaehyun adds, his voice low and teasing as he adjusts your daughter more comfortably against his chest, her thumb still tucked in her mouth as she drifts closer to sleep. “Bubba is kind of loud this morning.”
“Am not!” your son protests, lifting his head to glare at his sister with all the outrage a four-year-old can manage. “I’m just excited!”
“Too loud,” your daughter insists sleepily, her words muffled against Jaehyun’s shirt.
Jaehyun chuckles, his thumb brushing over the soft curve of her cheek as his gaze lingers on her peaceful face. “She’s tired, bud,” he says softly, pulling your son closer with his free arm. “But you’re right—it is exciting. Santa must’ve known you were so good this year, huh?”
“Yeah!” your son exclaims, his pride returning full force as he grins up at Jaehyun, his legs sprawled across the bed like he owns it. “I heard the reindeer, Daddy. I told sissy they were on the roof!”
Your daughter stirs just enough to pull her thumb from her mouth, blinking slowly up at him. “No, Bubba,” she whispers solemnly. “Reindeer in sky.”
Jaehyun’s laughter is soft, low, as he kisses her hair again. “She’s got a point, bud,” he says, his voice full of fondness. “Reindeer do fly, after all.”
Your son opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off with a kiss to his forehead, brushing your fingers through his wild hair. “Let’s just cuddle for a minute, baby,” you murmur, pulling him into the warmth of the blankets beside you. “Then we’ll see what Santa left, okay?”
Jaehyun shifts slightly, careful not to disturb the little girl nestled against his chest, her breaths slow and even. He tilts his head to look at your son, sprawled lazily across the bed, his earlier excitement melting into the soft, quiet glow of the moment. “Come here, bud,” Jaehyun murmurs, his voice soft, coaxing, as he stretches out his free arm.
Your son hesitates for a beat, his big, sleepy eyes flicking toward Jaehyun before a shy smile tugs at his lips. He pushes himself up clumsily, his small limbs still heavy with morning, and crawls over the sheets into Jaehyun’s waiting arms. Jaehyun gathers him close, folding him snug against his side with a kind of gentleness that makes your chest ache.
“There we go,” Jaehyun breathes, pressing his lips softly to the top of your son’s head, lingering there for a moment as though soaking in the weight of him, the warmth. “I missed my boy. You’re getting so big, you know that?”
Your son hums, his little hands curling into Jaehyun’s shirt as he nestles closer, his earlier energy fading into the pull of comfort and closeness. “Not that big, Daddy,” he mumbles, his voice muffled and small.
Jaehyun laughs quietly, the sound soft and affectionate, as he presses another kiss to your son’s hair, his thumb tracing lazy circles against his back. “Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet promise. “But don’t grow up too fast, okay? You’re still my little guy.”
Your son grins sleepily, his face half-hidden against Jaehyun’s chest as he whispers, “I won’t.”
Jaehyun doesn’t stop there. His gaze lifts to you, his free hand reaching out wordlessly, a silent invitation you can’t resist. He tugs you gently into his warmth, folding you into the space beside your son, his arms looping around the three of you like you’re the only thing in the world he wants to hold onto.
You sink into him easily, your head resting against his shoulder as his hand finds yours beneath the blankets, lacing your fingers together. His palm is warm, steady, grounding. Your son sighs softly, curling closer between you both, and your daughter shifts faintly against Jaehyun’s chest, her bunny still clutched tightly in one tiny hand.
Jaehyun presses a kiss to your temple, lingering there, his voice nothing but a murmur meant just for you. “My whole world,” he whispers, his thumb brushing faintly across your knuckles.
Your heart swells, your chest impossibly full as you close your eyes, letting yourself melt into the moment—this perfect stillness, this warmth wrapped in soft limbs and sleepy whispers.
“Merry Christmas,” you whisper, the words quiet and steady, brushing against his skin.
Jaehyun hums softly, his lips pressing another kiss to your hair. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he replies, his voice thick with love.
And for a moment, nothing else exists—the world outside fades, the morning light a gentle glow through the curtains. It’s just the four of you, tucked close in Jaehyun’s arms, held together by something deeper than words.
The presents can wait. The day can wait. This—this warmth, this love—is everything.
im not even sure what I want exactly???? just some filth, some praising, some talking me through it type of filth?
I luh you 😭😭
hiii I luv you tooo! what baby, wants baby gets, yes yes yes, mmh-hm 🙂↕️ enjoy~
if there are any mistakes or things that don't make sense, keep in mind this was supposed to be a DRABBLE, not a fucking 2k fic LMAO I SWEAR I AM SANE... 😭 or maybe not
can't nobody love you like I'm loving you, baby
fiancé Jaehyun x fem reader. w/c: ~2,2k. 18+. MDNI. fluff, pwp, (unprotected) P in V, cream pie, fingering, car sex, riding, praise, dirty talk, daddy kink, Big Dick Jae agenda, breast play, body worship? nicknames (reader) princess/baby/good girl
for some reason I'm imagining we're in 1970's New York City, so just play along, okay? okay.
It's closing hours at the diner, and you're wiping down the counter one last time when you hear your coworker snicker at the register.
"Your man's here," she says and points her chin to the windows.
Looking outside, your eyes meet. Jaehyun smiles and winks, which never fails to give you butterflies. No matter how much time that passes by, you're not immune to this man's behaviors, that's for sure.
“Ooh, he's got flowers and everything. Someone's getting dicked down tonight.”
“He's taking me out to dinner. Have some decorum, will you?”
"Mmh-hm," she hums with a knowing smile and closes the register.
"Oh, shut up."
“I didn't say anything,” she says with her hands up.
Being a military man, Jaehyun spends a lot of time away from home, so he treasures and treats every date like it's a special night. Knowing that does make the lonely nights a little easier.
You grab your bag and walk towards the entrance. “And for that I'm gonna let you lock up yourself, dingus.”
“I love you, too. Now get your pretty ass out,” you hear her call as you step outside. She's right. You are pretty, dressed up in a new summer dress that you know Jaehyun will love.
“Hey, baby,” Jaehyun greets you. He studies you from head to toe when you walk towards him. “Look at you...” He pecks your lips three times and caresses your hip, feeling the fabric of your dress and gives your waist a squeeze. He's wearing the cologne you like best. Of course he is. “Give me a little twirl.”
You do as he says, ending it with a pose.
Jaehyun sucks his teeth and tilts his head. “Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.” He offers you the bouquet and you accept it.
“What's this about?”
Jaehyun shrugs and places a kiss on your cheek. “Flowers for my flower.”
Your face lights up again. “You're too kind.”
“No such thing as ‘too kind’ when it comes to my baby.” He opens the passenger door for you and you get in.
Entering the evening traffic, soft music on the radio, Jaehyun keeps his hand on your thigh any time he can, lovingly stroking and giving you little squeeze whenever you make him laugh. He asks about your day, how did you sleep, how was work, did you have a proper lunch or was the day so busy again you guys were rushing. He always wants you to tell him everything and anything, always curious.
You close your eyes and inhale the fresh scent of the flowers. Jaehyun's hand on your thigh sneaks under your dress. You glance at him, squinting your eyes, but he holds a straight face, his eyes on the road. With every block, the traffic gets worse and his hand travels further up your thighs.
“Jae.”
"Hmm?"
“What do you think you're doing?”
Still keeping his gaze forward, he smirks and slides his hand between your legs, brushing his fingertips over your covered pussy. “What does it look like I'm doing?”
Your grip on the flowers tighten, and you take a deep breath. “Can't you behave at least until we've eaten?” You squirm in your seat when he starts palming up and down your heat, making blood rush to your core. You can't deny you've missed his warm, calloused hands. “Please…”
“Please what? More?”
“No, Jae, not here-” Jaehyun moves your panties to the side to reveal your glistening heat, his fingers instantly getting to work on your clit, making you moan out loud and let the bouquet fall to your side. Your legs unintentionally close from the sudden stimulation, and you sink down in your seat a little. “Audacious bastard,” you scolded but your hard tone quickly turned into soft moans, making Jaehyun chuckle.
“Be a good girl and open your legs,” he says in a soothing yet stern tone.
“What if someone sees?” You hesitate at first but fold easily, opening your legs enough for him to slide his fingers up and down your slit. He teases your entrance, chuckling at the way you clench around nothing.
“Seems like the risk excites you.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you look outside the window. He's not wrong.
“Don't worry, princess. people are too busy getting home to care to look at your pretty pussy.” Stuck at a red light, he looks down your body and slides half a finger in, humming pleased when you clench around him. “How about we take a little detour on our way? What do you say, baby?” Jaehyun asks in a smoky voice and pulls out his finger to rub and spread your click over your clit, making you buck your hips and grasp the bunched up fabric of your dress, forgetting about your flowers, food, or the fact that another car is right next to you. Jaehyun presses his fingers on your swollen bud, pulling a whiny moan out of you. “Ye- yes.”
“Yes, what?” he says with a grin.
“Yes, daddy.”
The traffic light turns green and he swiftly reaches his fingers to his mouth, sucking off your juices in a rush to change gear and get off the road.
Jaehyun exits the main road to find a nearby badly lit alley to park the car and instantly gets out to open your door and pull you into the backseat and on his lap. Shimmying out of his jacket he tosses it to the side. Crashing his lips with yours, he kisses you with hunger. Jaehyun always kisses you in a way that feels like he's addicted to you, mmemorisingand getting drunk off the feeling of your lips on his, your taste, the feeling of your tongue on his. Leaning away to catch his breath, his eyes travel all over your body. He starts unbuttoning the front of your dress, letting your boobs free and fondle them.
With your hands secured on his shoulder, you impatiently grind on his crotch, your drenched panties rubbing on his jeans, moaning his name when his lips travel down your neck. Jaehyun's greedy open mouthed kisses leave a trail of saliva down your chest, the contrast of the chill air hitting your skin giving you goosebumps. He teases your nipples with the pads of his thumbs before wrapping his lips around one of them, sending sparks straight to your core.
You reach down to unbuckle his belt, pull down the fly on his jeans, and stand up on your knees to let him pull them down, pants and underwear in one go, to his knees. You look down to watch Jaehyun's cock spring free and slap on his stomach, wantonly moaning out loud, making him chuckle and you chuckle too.
“You want it?” He asks with a sultry look.
“Yes, I want it,” you answer wantonly.
Jaehyun wraps his fingers around his length and slides the tip up and down your slit, pushing past your folds. “Yes…?”
You're so wet for him that you can hear his cock gather your slick and rub it on your clit, the sound turning you on even more. “Yes, daddy.”
“Good girl,” he praises and kisses you, places one hand on your hip and teases his cockhead over your hole before encouraging you to sink down on him. Both of you moan when your slick warmth welcomes him. “Gooood girl…” You don't mind skipping any prepping because the stretch is too good, feeling his big member mold you to fit him just right, your tight pussy squeezing him just right. The sensation takes over and all you can think about is him, not caring about the fact that you're in his car and anyone can walk past at any time.
You start moving, slowly at first, then lift yourself up enough to almost let him slip out before you sink down completely. Jaehyun groans and chuckles with a dazed look and a smile on his lips, his head lolling back when you increase pace. You trail kisses along his jaw, working up a decent pace, getting used to his girth. He moves down a little, his knees hitting the seat in front of him.
The new position has his tip hitting right on your sweet spot. You whine and move your hips more eagerly. “Fuck- it feels so good, daddy.”
“Yeah? Does it feel good?”
“Mmh-hhmm~” You nod and bite your lip, feeling pleasure build up every time you hit the right spot.
“You treat me so well, baby, nnnghh, fuck me so good. This tight little cunt takes me so- aaah- takes me so well. Don't you, baby? You're so fucking beautiful, Y/n,” Jaehyun rambles as he observes you riding him, getting drunk on your pussy and staring at your boobs bouncing every time you roll your hips. He caresses up your belly and chest while the other hand fondles your boob. “So beautiful on top of me,” he sighs in a husky voice before pulling you down by your neck to let him take your nipple into his mouth. You exhale sharply, close your eyes and listen to the lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out your wet hole paired with the sound of him sucking harshly and licking on your nipple, moaning against your skin makes you dizzy. Jaehyun licks a long stripe over your chest before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud and flicking his tongue, making you whine needily and arch your back.
A deep groan rumbles in his throat when you circle your hips at a quicker pace, letting his dick stay deep yet pump your pussy faster. Jaehyun leans away and gaze up at you, placing his big hand on the side of your neck under your ear, caressing the damp skin with his thumb.
“Y/n, look at me.”
You open your eyes and look down, brows knit together, mouth agape and panting.
Jaehyun licks his lips and gazes intently. “Whose dick is this?”
“My… mine?” You answer hesitantly. Beads of sweat run down your neck and boobs. The air in the car is thick and smell of sex. Jaehyun's hair is sticking to his face. His hands travel all over your waist and hips, caressing and squeezing the flesh.
“Then ride it like you own it.”
The words make you clench around him. With a sharp inhale through gritted teeth he gears up and grabs onto your waist to help you move. Yotstart to bounce on his dick, making him moan wantonly and close his for a moment. “Yeah, just like that, baby. Just like that…” Sweat runs down the sides of his face, his shirt now sticking to his body and the veins on his arms clearly visible from his tight grip on you.
You moan Jaehyun's name and can't help but whimper every time you sink down on his length and his cockhead keeps hitting your sweet spot. Your legs tremble when his thumb finds your clit and rubs side to side over it trying to match the pace of your movements. The walls of drenched pussy get tighter, the fire in your core growing and your body tensing up. Jaehyun thrusts his hips to meet your movements, his groin covered in your juices making lewd sounds when your bodies crash together.
“Jae~” you cry, moans increasing in pitch as pleasure builds up, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You feel his cock twitch and your walls tighten around him.
“God, your pussy feels so good, baby. Fucking perfect. My perfect princess with her perfect little pussy. Are you gonna cum?”
“Mmmh, I'm - aaah, fuck…”
“Are you gonna come on my cock?” Jaehyun can barely get the words out from how strained his breathing is.
You wrap one hand around his neck to steady yourself as your lower body tense up and your silky, dripping walls clench around his dick enough to make Jaehyun whimper and his cock twitch. “Yes!”
“Good girl. That's it. Come on daddy’s cock.” You stop bouncing, crying out in pleasure as he slows down his thrusts and shifts to starts rubbing your swollen bud quickly with all fingers. Your legs tremble when he coax you over the edge. “I'm cumming, I'm cum-” Your words get stuck in your throat as ecstasy takes over.
“Look at yo- nnngh, fuck- You're doing so… You're doing so well for me. Shit… Go on, baby. Make a mess on daddy’s cock,” Jaehyun grunts.
You let it wash over you, your forehead falling to rest against his as pleasure spreads from your core through your whole body. He grinds his hips slowly and keeps rubbing your clit until you whine and he stops.
“That's it, princess. You- aah, shit, keep clenching around me like that, fuck, Y/n~” Jaehyun can't hold it anyone. He wraps his arms around you and hold you tight as he shoots his load in your pulsing pussy, painting your walls with white. You kiss him and he lazily returns the kiss, licking and moaning into your mouth when your cunt milks him of every drop he has to offer, enough for some to push out around his dick when he slowly pumps in and out, fucking his cum deeper while prolonging your high, not wanting to stop.
Your bliss is interrupted by someone knocking on the window — A police officer who's not looking very cheerful. Shit.
jeong jaehyun x fem!reader — your friend, mark, decides to play cupid and get you a date. little did he know he might regret it a few years down the road … or will he? // mini smau, fluff, strangers to lovers, best friend!mark, ignore timestamps
not plot just me fulfilling my jaehyun desires sorry not sorry
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