junn

i just read and maybe write?

[mrkis]

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗚𝗢𝗘𝗦 — 𝗦𝗜𝗫 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦

[#𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗢𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗦] ⇉ [𝗕𝗘𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚] want to hear what people are talking about? [#𝗳𝗶𝗰: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀]

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧(𝗦) : ➤playlist #1 made by @saraannaisabel ➤playlist #2 made by me

𝗔𝗡 | the bonus parts are the bottom are written in jaemins pov and include extra content that hasn't been written in the official parts. you're more than welcome to skip the bonuses but please bare in mind that, again, they feature extra unseen content.

[ 𝗢𝗡𝗘 ] ! 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: for three months, after a hard breakup with your ex, you refuse to let another man worm his way into your life even if it was for love or pleasure to avoid that ugly feeling of heartbreak… but then you bump into jaemin 𝗪𝗖: 20.9k

[ 𝗧𝗪𝗢 ] ! 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: you and jaemin discuss your friends with benefits situation before things between you both start to escalate. also, your friends are crazy and they know about it. 𝗪𝗖: 14.7k

[ 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 ] ! 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: your friends with benefits relationship with jaemin starts to get more serious when he asks to be exclusive, and just as things go a little too well, things start to get bad. 𝗪𝗖: 15.9k

[ 𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 ] ! 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: you finally get jaemin to open up about his past and someone from his past ends up right in front of his doorstep 𝗪𝗖: 18.2k

[ 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 ] ! 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: ever since eunbin came back into the picture, you start to truly realise where you stand and what you want from jaemin... but nothing ever really goes the way it's supposed to go 𝗪𝗖: 30.9k

𝗦𝗜𝗫 [unwritten] 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝗪𝗖:

[ 𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦 (𝗣𝗧.𝟭) ] ! — 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: you finally get inside jaemin’s mind. flashbacks in jaemin’s point of view could change everything. 𝗪𝗖: 33k

[ 𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦 (𝗣𝗧. 𝟮) ] ! — 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: you finally get inside jaemin’s mind. flashbacks in jaemin’s point of view could change everything. 𝗪𝗖: 14.3k

𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦 (𝗣𝗧. 𝟯. 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟) ! — 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩 [unwritten] 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: smut, angst, fluff 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: you finally get inside jaemin’s mind. flashbacks in jaemin’s point of view could change everything. 𝗪𝗖:

[ttoribini]

love hurts (literally) - Doctor! Renjun x reader

the first time yn ended in the ER it was a complete accident the other times however ... maybe there was a certain ER doctor on call who sparked the sudden visit. when Huang Renjun got his medical degree in emergency medicine he didn't plan to use it just to treat the same girl who comes in with a new injury just to see him.

featuring! key of shinee and seulgi of red velvet other! smau, description of emergency rooms, injuries, and the hospital, yn is insane, renjun is constantly tired, i study medicine so hopefully this will be a little medically accurate however it probably wont, yns faceclaim is beabadoobee

tags are closed COMPLETED !!!

profiles - homophobic homosexuals : ncch

prologue

1. heart attack vs cardiac arrest

2. modern day grays anatomy

3. possibly gay (written)

4. missing

5. quiet

6. new friend

7. renjun touches grass

8. night shift (written)

9. oh?

10. ignore

11. haha funny funny joke

12. emergency (written)

13. where has she been? oh ...

14. i lived bitch

15. he cares!

16. dr huang

17. home

18. name (written)

19. the pains of rehab

20. he realizes!

21. and fuck the hippocratic oath

22. grow some scrotum orbs

23. smoke and (written)

24. she shoots she scores

25. premarital hand holding

26. jorked that penits

27. girlfriend finally (written)

28. love hurts

bonus chapter. baby fever

bonus chapter. smoke free

[writtenbycleo]

too much, too little | 得能勇志

★ pairing: 得能勇志 tokuno yushi x reader

★ summary: All your life you'd been told you were too exhausting, too much. All his life, he'd been told he was too underwhelming, too little. Perhaps there was a balance that had been lost somewhere along the way. Perhaps it would take you a long time to realize it.

★ wc: around 9k words and 800 divider lines im sorry.

★ warnings: shitty friends, lowk mysoginistic themes.

★ permanent taglist: @blubb0 @gyubvlin

★ fic taglist: @13tter @luvvyushii

All your life you had been told that you were complicated. Overwhelming, loud, stubborn, tough. You liked things too much, enjoyed them too loudly, and hated them too clearly; you prided yourself on standing up for your beliefs, despite the distance some people kept from you. There wasn't a family gathering where they didn't remind you why you were single, how difficult it must be to find a guy who could handle you.

You acted as if you didn't care, as if it didn't affect you, but cracks began to appear every time a boy smirked at the way you spoke, every time you felt tired stares and annoyed looks when you raised your hand in class, even if your male classmate received praise for his commitment to the class. You had nothing against them, you even considered some of them your friends, but you always felt that something was wrong with you, with the way you presented yourself, the way you behaved. It seemed like a war that couldn't be won, damned if you did, damned if you didn't.

You never cared about guys, or rather, boyfriends. They just didn't appeal to you. None of your friends who had them were as happy as they pretended to be on their Instagram profiles, and honestly, you couldn't find one worth your time. Yet, it seemed like no one understood the concept, trying to set you up with almost every guy on campus they deemed tough enough to tolerate you. You tried to cooperate—they had your best interests at heart—but after the seventh disastrous blind date, you became more reluctant to agree, even daring to say no. So they took a different approach. Now it was more of an ambush, asking you to run errands with them, and suddenly, Sion from political science is here. And you like Sion, enough to consider him a friend, but you wouldn't date him, and judging by his face, he agreed.

And those were the pleasant ones, but among the three that you more or less enjoyed, there were many that were downright humiliating. So, when their utterly futile attempts have failed and the male population on campus isn't growing, they offer (no, threaten) to create a dating profile for you. And that was the moment you realized you had to put an end to this crap or you'd be stuck with it for the rest of your life. Maybe the solution was to get a boyfriend. Even if it was a fake one.

All his life, Yushi had been told he was underwhelming, that he didn't talk enough, that he didn't attract attention (even though it was crazy thing to say that to a kid), which he'd learned to justify by saying he didn't speak unless he had something worthwhile to say or company to be with, that he didn't get involved in things he considered none of his business, and that he tried to keep his participation in classes practically nonexistent, enjoying the anonymity that came with it. He liked not having to get involved in the various events, he liked being able to go unnoticed by most; he had his people, and that was all he needed. That didn't mean he felt lonely, per se. He considered himself lucky in that respect, able to find his place among his classmates and even become friends with some seniors who helped along the way... he had a good friend group. He didn't need much more.

So you can understand why he was so surprised when you suddenly approached him one day. He really shouldn't have been so surprised. You'd shared some classes, been group partners on a few projects over the past few years, and he was sure Sion considered you a friend. You probably had a good reason for interrupting his study time so abruptly, too.

“So what brings you here?” he asks, getting straight to the point. He didn’t get the appeal of small talk, especially not with someone he only shared classes with. Even if that person was you.

“I have to ask you a favor, a big one,” you say, sitting down in front of him, and he can feel the nervousness emanating from you.

"Well, not to be mean, but I don't think you're in the right place for that," he says with complete seriousness. He couldn’t even begin to wonder why you could possibly need him, of all people. “We haven’t spoken in like a year.”

You shudder at his honesty; to tell the truth, he was right. You had always been respectful and greeted him when you saw him, but since you had your A+ logged to the class grades,  you hadn't bothered to keep in touch, not like he did either. Your life is outside that small socioeconomic bubble where things are too different for you to interact outside of it.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I really don't know who to ask," you mumble, sitting across from him. And deep down he feels bad for your nervous state; clearly whatever brought you here was bothering you a lot.

"What exactly do you want?" he asks once again, not understanding why you would need him, specifically, out of all the people on campus to help you with such an important matter.

"I need you to pretend to go out with me." There it was, you ripped off the Band-Aid, and you didn't feel good, not when the Japanese boy was looking at you like you'd grown a third head.

“Why would you need me to date you?”  he says, not really getting why you, one of the most influential people on campus, needed him, someone who barely existed in the social hierarchy. 

So you start from the beginning, from being a lot. You explain from the way everyone perceived you to how your friends set you up with almost every straight male on campus (him excluded, to his interest), to your ‘date’ with Sion, if you could call it that (which he didn't know, to your surprise and his distaste), to the impending doom of the dating profile, and how you needed them to stop. 

“I don't get why you chose me for the job. Why not Sion?" he asks, honestly, if you wanted to put some kind of stop to the situation he would choose a man who imposed some kind of respect, or fear, not him. Who, even if he would like to, wasn't the most respect inducing male on campus, nor was he close to the top 50.  

"Well, for starters, we haven't had a failed date," you say, and Yushi, for once, feels grateful at the prospect. "And besides, you're very reserved, so we won't even need to do much to make it seem like we're a couple. Third, I trust you," you whisper the last part, as if you were almost embarrassed to have such a good memory of a guy you barely interacted with. That confession earned her a reaction from the boy, who quickly turned his head to hide the blush rising to his cheeks.

"What do I gain from this?" he says, hoping that the nervousness in his voice isn't noticeable.

"I can't offer you cash right now, but I can sponsor a ticket for Kai's concert when he comes," you say, and Yushi can almost feel his ear perk up at the offer. He can't believe you remember that fleeting comment when you first worked together, the only time he recalls expressing interest in the group. "If you still like EXO, great. If not, I don't know, maybe a football ticket? Think about it," you say, leaving as quickly as you arrived, almost as if you hadn't been there. And Yushi can't help but think that maybe he just dreamed it all.

Later that night, Yushi was thinking about it. He thought about you. You, who had always been kind to him, even though he'd had his doubts about you when he was assigned the project. Having had a few classes with you by the time the project came up, he knew your reputation. Still, he seriously doubted you were like the rumors described. You always acted very respectfully, and while it was true you were stubborn, you were always very mindful of what you said in class. He was pleasantly surprised that once you started working on the project, you didn't mind his silence or complain about his lack of words when he was spoken to. There was a mutual understanding, a tacit agreement of some kind.

And he would be lying if he said he didn't find you attractive; anyone with functioning eyes would agree. Besides the obvious, he'd overheard conversations more than once between people who didn't even notice him, talking about how hot you were. If only you were more submissive, everyone would see how pretty you were. But he also liked the one who took the most criticism, the one with strong opinions, the one who wasn't afraid to disagree and say what she really thought.

He remembers the first time he noticed. You were arguing with Sion, of all people, about a book he personally couldn't care less about. But he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way you spoke to the boy surprised him; everyone always talked about you being a lowkey a bitch, but he just couldn't see it, not when you were so eloquent with your words. Maybe it was rose-tinted glasses, but he doubted it. Most likely, people just didn't know you and were more annoyed by your attitude than by the fact that you were allegedly a bitch.

He realized it embarrassingly late, not even on his own. There was no way he'd dare even consider it. He realized it when he made eye contact with Riku, who was sitting right in front of him.

He had a stupid grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows at the younger boy. He'd always believed Riku had an uncanny talent for reading people, and that belief was only reinforced once you and Sion headed off to your next class, leaving the library.

"You like her," the older boy wasted no time in prodding. God, how he hated her sometimes.

“What? No,” that answer will surely convince him, Yushi thought, annoyed by his trembling voice.

“Yes, you do,” he reiterates. "You were looking at her with heart eyes. Drooling and all," he jokes.

“I really don’t like her. She’s not my type.” Denying it will make it true, he thinks, conviction by repetition, or something like that. He believes he had studied it in psychology at some point.

"Sure, keep telling yourself that," he says, getting up to leave. "Just make sure you don't regret it in the long run."

"Even if I like her. Which I don't," he begins, receiving a knowing look from the older boy. "I'm pretty sure she'd never like a guy like me."

"Who knows, opposites attract," Riku says, winking at him before saying goodbye, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

That conversation comes back to Yushi's mind. Now he definitely knew you didn't like him. Why did you approach him, out of all the people you knew? It was a mystery to him. But that ruled out the possibility that you liked him; no one in their right mind would try to pretend to be dating the person they like unless you were unhinged, which he liked to think you weren't, even if he doubted it now.

Would it be selfish to accept it? To agree to fake a date with you, not for the money, but for the chance to spend time with you, the chance to experience you in a way he might never be able to? He decides this is a problem for tomorrow; his mind is already too full of course content to think about it seriously, and he might consider asking the boys about it.

Once the words leave his mouth, he regrets it. He had taken advantage of lunchtime, the only time of day when all his friends were gathered, to drop the bomb. Riku was explaining a volleyball concept to Jaehee, which was hovering over the younger boy's head, who didn't seem to care in the slightest. Sion was studying hard for an exam, trying to ignore the younger ones, who were having a heated debate about the best starter Pokémon. Everything stops once he confesses to the interaction he had with you. It seemed as if time had stopped, and he couldn't help but think it was like a Renaissance painting, because of how the whole table turned to look at him.

"What did you say?" Jaehee asks cautiously, while the older boy beside him just gives him a mocking smile.

"That I'd think about it," he says, shifting the food on his plate. "You didn't tell me you went on a date with her," he accuses, pointing at Sion with his chopsticks.

"It was barely a date," he complains, embarrassed by being the center of attention. "It was more like an ambush with a third wheel."

"Why would that matter?" Riku says, a mocking tone in his voice, and Yushi would have preferred he wasn't there. "It's not like you like her or anything."

There it was. The cat's out of the bag, and all he can do is bang his head against the table, out of annoyance but mostly to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Ushi hyung is in love,” he hears Sakuya sing, and he never wanted the earth to swallow him up so badly.

"It's not that I'm in love... I just think she's nice," he says. “Besides, that doesn’t change anything. It’s not like she confessed her feelings, she just asked me to pretend to date her, among other things.” He rambles.

“That probably means she doesn’t like you, hyung,” Ryo explains with a pitying smile. Yushi could only squint at the younger boy, who hadn't done anything wrong other than state the obvious.

“All is not lost, my student,” Riku says, with a dramatic flair that makes the rest of the table roll their eyes. "She may not like you, but she sees you as a potential boyfriend, or at least trusts you enough to take on the role."

“He’s right, hyung.” Jaehee nods, and he can only stifle a groan, unwilling to accept that the older man’s words hold any truth.

“You should use it to your advantage.” Sakuya says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Show her you can rizz her.”

That comment alone earned the boys a mixture of complaints and laughter, dismissing some of the nervousness that Yushi had begun to feel.

"Take it as a trial period," Sion says, finally looking up from his questionnaire. “Play your cards right and the role will be yours.”

You don't know why you asked Yushi.

Well, you do know why you asked, but why he was the first person who came to mind was a mystery to you. Maybe it was because you got along so well. Sure, you weren't the closest people, but you could have been friends in a different universe. In this one, you were acquaintances, barely classmates. You were much closer to some of his other friends, the more extroverted ones, like Sion and Riku, and you'd even tutored Ryo at some point last year.

You always had fond memories of the few times you interacted, struck by his gentle manner and his distinctive voice. You assumed he would find you annoying, a stark contrast to his serenity. However, he didn't seem bothered by it and treated you with far more respect than most of your colleagues.

You were surprised to see him waiting outside your class; you were certain he wasn't taking it and seriously doubted he had any reason to be in that building. This belief was reinforced when he approached you, silently greeting you as he followed you down the hallway.

“I’ve thought about it,” he murmurs, not daring to look at you.

“So?” You can’t help but notice the hint of interest in your voice. Your friends had started pressuring you, once again, to download Bumble, Tinder, or whatever app with the stupidest name was the most popular thing on the market at the time.

“I agree,” he says. "I'll pretend to be your boyfriend. We can talk about the deal later," he adds, trying to sound as normal as possible, even though he felt like he was trembling like a leaf.

“Thank you so much,” you say, barely containing your emotion. In your excitement, you hug him; it was probably the first time he had been so close to you. “I owe you one.”

He wraps his arms around you, in the least awkward way possible. He knows that he only accepted out of selfishness, perhaps even more than for yours. But he couldn't care less once he feels your warmth against his body.

"I'm sorry," you say shyly as you pull away, much to his displeasure. "I shouldn't have hugged you like that."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugs, and you can't help but notice the blush creeping into his ears. “We’re dating after all.” God, indifference had never been his strong suit.

“We really should talk about this,” you say, once you arrive at your dorm building. “Like the rules and all that.”

And that's how he finds himself sitting on your bed, while you're looking for a notebook. Honestly, he feels like he’s going to implode, looking around the room and seeing it as so… you. From the books on the shelves to the posters on the walls, he can't believe he's sitting there, staring at you while they talk about something he should probably be paying attention to.

“Okay, let’s think from the beginning,” you say, fiddling with a pen.

"How did we meet?" he begins, asking the question he thinks everyone will be thinking once they find out about your new relationship status. How did you end up dating?

“From the project,” you offer, trying to remember when you and he would have started dating—heck, you barely crossed paths after the project ended.

“Yes, but we didn’t interact for about a year after that…”, he says.

“So you asked me out,” you offer, earning an annoyed look from the guy.

“You should try to make it sound believable,” he replies deadpans.

“Okay, so I asked you out,” you sigh, “I think it’s just as unbelievable, but alas.”

"There's no way people will believe I asked you out," he says, "at least not your friends."

You give him a puzzled look, but in the end, you find yourself agreeing with him. Your friends probably wouldn’t even believe you’re dating anyone, even someone like Yushi. Thinking he’d make the first move would be as easy as making them believe pigs can fly.

“So I asked you out…”, you sigh, “How long have we been dating?”

“A few months?” he asks, oblivious to how much you were trying to sell the illusion.

“I’ve been on dates these past few months. It wouldn’t be believable.”

“You failed them because you were dating me. Did you just not want to make it public yet?” he lies without moving, with a naturalness in her words that, discreetly, frightens you.

"Great. You're good at this," you say, unsure if it's a compliment. "And what about public displays of affection?"

"When necessary," he replies, though he's unsure how good an idea it is to commit to acting like your boyfriend with his newfound understanding of his own feelings.

"You're more reserved, so I suppose it won't be strange if we're not as effusive."

"Great," he remarks, already regretting this.

He regrets it even more when he has to interact with your friends. After a few days of picking you up from your classes, it was time for him to actually meet them—you know, sell you the fantasy.

It wasn't that your friends were bad people, though he'd heard some less-than-nice things about them, but he could say the same about you, so rumors weren't going to be something he based his opinion on. People often gossiped confidently about seemingly invisible individuals, a group Yushi was proud to be a part of. But if those rumors were true, he didn't understand why you kept hanging out with them.

Even the motivational speech the night before wasn't enough to convince him to have lunch with them. As he sat uncomfortably next to you, he could hear them discussing the hottest story on campus, promptly ignoring the new presence at the table.

As you clear your throat, drawing attention to your presence, and more importantly, to the boy next to you, they act as if you haven't been sitting there for ten minutes straight. They greet him in a way that reminds him of how someone treats their annoying little cousin, not a peer, or in some cases, an elder.

"It's good to see you," Yechan says, and Yushi knows from a mile away that he doesn't mean it.

Before he can reply, meekly as ever, he's interrupted by a girl, whom he thinks is named Moka, but he wouldn't bet on it.

"Why are you here?" And he can't tell if she was meaner than she intended or if she simply meant to be cruel. What is clear is that you're embarrassed by her behavior, by the fiddling with your hands and the way your gaze drops.

"That's what I wanted to tell you," you say, taking his hand and placing it on the table, your intertwined fingers on display for all your friends to see. "We're dating."

A silence falls over the table, making this moment one of the ten most awkward moments in Yushi's life, or even one of the top five.

Some of them can only manage to let out a few awkward laughs, exchanging knowing glances with each other. Once again, he can only wonder why you interact with them.

"You're joking, right?" Yunah asks with a mocking smile, as if the idea of ​​you liking him is completely inconceivable.

"Why would I do that?" you say, drawing circles with your fingers on his trembling hands, giving her the most loving look possible.

He was screwed.

The walk to your dorm was interesting, to say the least. After whatever that lunch was, he walked you to your afternoon classes, only to wait in the library until it was time to pick you up and walk you home like the dutiful fake boyfriend he was, without having time to report on the shitty spectacle that had been the first formal introduction.

“I feel so sorry about them,” you murmur wearily as he carries your suitcase to your side. He had insisted on it, even when you complained that the practice was outdated and somewhat misogynistic, but he had ignored you. "I don't know why I thought they would take it better."

“It wasn’t that bad,” he tries to reassure you, lying blatantly, and he knows you can see right through it. No one in their right mind would classify that interaction as acceptable, much less as good.

"Are you trying to make me feel better?"

“Maybe?” he says, earning a little giggle from you, a more than worthy reward. "But it could have been worse, so it's not a big deal."

"The only way it could be worse is if Yechan punched you in the nose," you joke, and he smiles at the prospect that you might not be as upset as it might have seemed. “We will have to put a lot of effort into this.”

"It seems so," he says as they both arrive at his bedroom, where they wave goodbye as they enter his room, leaving him behind.

During the following days, he realized that perhaps he had bitten off more than he could bear. In theory, spending more time with you seemed like a good idea, but reality was driving him crazy.

Sure, he'd grown closer to you; you two were practically two peas in a pod, hanging out on and off campus. Heck, even his showing up at your dorm had become a regular occurrence. But something—or rather, some people—didn't seem to be reacting to your relationship the way you'd hoped.

After your failed first appearance as a couple, you decided to alternate between groups of friends at lunchtime when your schedules coincided, since it wouldn't make sense to spend time with only one, and, to be honest, he much preferred the days when you went out with his friends. The atmosphere was far more relaxed than when you went out with yours, who still seemed to think it was impossible for you to date the guy who was glued to you all day, treating him almost like an ornament, as if he weren't even there. To your annoyance, he didn't seem to mind, as he was used to it.

You'd be lying if you said they didn't bother you. After months of nagging you to get a boyfriend, you find one who seems madly in love with you, who follows you everywhere and is at your beck and call, even if it's pretended, and they still dare to complain.

“Don’t you get tired?” You asked once, when he accompanied you to your class after having lunch with Riku and the youngsters, who were probably (excluding Yushi) the most hyperactive combination you could get out of the six.

“Of what?” he asked, not quite understanding what you were talking about.

“Of… them?” you asked. Maybe it was insensitive of you, but you figured that if he’d expressed concerns about your group of friends, you could ask him something awkward once, as a reward. "They seem so... noisy sometimes"

“I don't know, I've never thought about it” he confesses, the truth is, he found some comfort in the noise which in some way, included him. Sometimes he didn't participate in these conversations, but he was taken into account in them, even if his biggest collaboration was quiet hum in agreement. Something he found refreshing after his daily dose of being a wallflower. “Its not like I'm excluded of them.” 

“Yes, but you seem so… quiet when you’re with them.”

“I seem so quiet when I’m with everyone,” he says, squinting.

“Okay, fair enough,” you say, laughing at his expression. Oh, how I longed to hear that sound every day.

“Does it bother you?”

“What?” Now it was your turn to not understand what you were supposed to be worried about.

“That I'm like this” he says, as if you automatically understand why it should bother you. It didn’t even cross your mind why it should bother you; after all, shouldn’t he be the one who’s upset with you? Entering his life, asking him to pretend to date you—he should be the one upset with you.

"Should I?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood. "If anything, I should bother you."

“You never could,” he replies, and perhaps it’s the speed with which he responds, or the affection in his gaze, but for once, you allow yourself to believe him.

“Then I could never be bothered by you either,” you say, ending the conversation as you take his hand and walk beside him, a comfortable silence settling between you.

“I don’t understand how you do it,” Yunah says, sitting down next to you.

“Seriously, your stomach is truly amazing,” Yeju adds, sitting down on the opposite side of the table.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, looking up from the book you were reading.

“They’re talking about your little boyfriend,” Seongmo explains, and for once, his sing-song tone isn’t endearing, to say the least.

"And what about him?" you ask, perhaps a little too defensively about someone you supposedly don't like, but oh well, they didn't need to know.

"We just don't think he's right for you, that's all," Yechan says, as he starts wolfing down his food.

"Since when are you the couple's police?" you ask, annoyed.

"Common, we're just worried about you. The guy's about as stiff as a cactus, barely speaks, barely interacts, just stares around," Yeju explains.

“Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re worth all the trouble,” you reply irritably, annoyed with them, once again, meddling in their relationships.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunah says, "Do you think that just because you're the future top student, captain of the debate team, Miss Perfect, you can look down on us? Well, breaking news: nobody can stand you, and the only one who seems to, is your boyfriend, who dissociates every time he's with you because, after all, you're unbearable."

A silence falls over the table, everyone too surprised by the usually cheerful girl’s sudden outburst to say anything, and you waste no time before getting up, slamming your tray on the table.

“I’m glad to hear it from you, then.”

Hanging out in your dorm room wasn't something Yushi ever thought he'd get used to. You had a two-room dormitory, which you shared with Yunah. He'd never been there before your little arrangement, but ever since, his presence in the dorm had been a repeated ordeal. Hanging out in your room had been the norm—from watching movies to just chatting—you spent most of your free afternoons and evenings there, even if you had "outdoor dates," as you called them, once a week.But when he arrives at your door this afternoon, you push him into your room without even letting him greet your roommate, who seems even more annoyed by his presence than usual.

You drag him to your room, away from your roommate's smoldering gaze. It's only a matter of time before he's lying on your bed next to you, something far more common than he ever imagined. What was perhaps not so common was having you on his chest—not that he complained, but he took the opportunity to gently stroke your hair.

After what could have been five minutes or hours, you start talking. You tell him everything, everything under the comfort of the dim lights and his hands caressing your back.

You tell him about your friends, how strangely they acted, how they attacked you and his personality, how they called him "cactus," whatever that meant.

You tell them about not wanting to fight with them, since you had once considered them as close as family.

You tell him about Yunah, how close you were like sisters growing up, only for that relationship to fall apart around high school, as passive-aggression seemed to have become the new norm for her.

"Does that mean we're going to break up?" he asks. The idea was to get your friends off your back, not out of your life. It never would have crossed your mind that they’d be so angry that you went out with him.

“What? No!” you say, finally stopping hiding your face in his neck and looking at him in astonishment. “I’m not going to give them the satisfaction of being able to choose who I date.”

“I don’t want you to lose them,” he says, as his hand lightly caresses the skin of your arm.

“They are not worth keeping them if they can’t see how great you are,” you say, and maybe it feels far more intimate than it’s supposed to.

After all, this was all meant to be a charade, a setup to get rid of them, but when his eyes lock onto your face, you can’t help but be glad it seems like it’s more than that.

Yushi must have been dreaming. That’s the only conclusion he reaches once your hand travels to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

That’s the only conclusion he reaches once our lips press against his, making him release a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding back.

And he hopes you meant it, that you mean what you say and that you mean what you do, because after tasting your lips on hers, there's no way she's going to let you go.

You couldn't understand why it affected you so much. You'd had quite a few kisses, and this wasn't even close to the first, but they all paled in comparison. Kissing had never felt as good as in bed, with your fake boyfriend, of all people. Humiliating as it was.

You didn't know exactly what your stance was regarding your relationship, but it seemed that he wasn't complaining either, choosing to ignore the kiss shaped elephant in the room. But the rational part of you knows you should talk about it, before it becomes something bigger and worse. Not that you found yourself doing so, choosing to ignore the issue for the sake of your sanity.

That's the thought process at lunchtime, when you're sitting outside. Since the whole fiasco with the group of friends the week before, you had been having lunch with Yushi's group of friends or alone, still too angry with your friends to bother reading their messages.

All your inner monologue is interrupted once some familiar silhouettes occupy the other side of the table, and after recognizing them as the cause of your anger, you can't help but feel a slight déjà vu about the situation.

You look at them expectantly. They sit, exchanging awkward glances at your silence, before anyone dares to break it.

"How have you been?" Seongil asks.

"Great," you reply, with no interest in spending even a second on them, much less having a real conversation. Lunch continues like this, with you responding with a single word if you even answered their questions.

"You can't ignore us forever," Yunah says, after the third question she asked you, which you promptly ignored.

“Is that a challenge?” you say while packing your things and threatening to leave.

"Okay! Okay, we're sorry," she says, exasperated.

"So?"

“And we’re all sorry. She didn’t mean what she said, and we don’t agree with her,” Yeju says, trying to smooth things over.

“She can speak for herself,” you say, tired of their high school ways. Although you once held them close to your heart, you now felt you had outgrown them; you were too old for their immaturity. Sure, you'd miss them, and it would be awkward having to explain to your father why you weren't going to the village with their families this year, but hey, this was the hill where you planned to die.

“I'm sorry,” she murmurs, not daring to look up from her food. "I shouldn't have spoken about you or Yushi like that. It was cruel and unnecessary," she adds in a way that seems rehearsed. She could have started speaking in Latin, and maybe you would have believed her more.

You have to avoid rolling your eyes, and yet, for reasons you can't even understand yourself, you forgive them.

Perhaps it was nostalgia talking, or perhaps you genuinely believe they might have regretted their actions, especially since they invited you and your boyfriend to a hangout—after all, they should try to make an effort to get to know him.

Things had taken a strange turn for Yushi. He didn't understand your position in the relationship. Was it official yet? Was it still just a ploy to get rid of your friends? What was the proper protocol for kissing your fake girlfriend that you actually liked? That was something he still didn't know. And now, as you stroll peacefully through the park, holding the boy's hand, he is afraid. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to fake a date with you, maybe he should have told you he liked you when he had the chance, now that the prospect of losing you looms over his confession.

"I spoke with them," you say, breaking the silence.

He hums, inviting you to continue. You had grown accustomed to the boy's quiet nature; though at first you'd stared at him, questioning his lack of verbal response, now you could read his body language like the back of your hand.

"They said they wanted to meet you. Properly," you say, and feel him squeeze your hand barely, almost imperceptibly. "Do you want to? I'll understand if you don't."

"Whatever. I don't think they'd like me either way," he says, trying not to sound self-critical, but failing miserably. To be honest, he couldn't find the courage to worry about them, not after how they treated you and how they talked about him.

You stop suddenly, pulling him back to force him to make eye contact with you, and he can't help but see the resemblance to a kicked puppy in your sad expression.

"I want to know what you want to do," you say, playfully intertwining your hands. "We can do something else if you don't want to go."

There it is, he thinks, his heart skipping a beat at your confession. The fine line you're both using as a jump rope. What was "fake boyfriend" supposed to mean anyway?

"We can go. Only if you want to," he murmurs, looking away to contain the rising heat in his face.

"You're the best," you say, giving him a kiss on the corner of his lips.

Since you started dating Yushi, you had become closer to his friends, enjoying getting to know them better, amazed by the family dynamic they had among themselves. Even though you got along with everyone, it was obvious that you and Riku had connected best, even when you were just hanging out (despite Sion's teasing and Yushi's menacing glare, which earned him a quick kiss on the nose before you left).

"I'm so glad he asked you out," he says casually as she sits down across from you and places the drinks on the table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I asked him out,” you reply, clueless about where this is coming from. You had asked Yushi to refrain from telling his friends about the nature of your relationship, since the fewer people who knew, the easier it would be to keep it a secret. Supposedly, he had followed their request, so it made sense to them to think that the relationship was, well, real, and that belief usually seeped into comments like this one, where they put the veracity of their bond front and center.

“I should have expected it,” he jokes, “there was no way he was going to make the first move. It took him months to admit he liked you,” he adds casually, taking a sip of his drink.

For you, time stood still. You couldn't believe what the boy in front of you was saying. You assumed that, at some point, the line between real and fake had blurred, even before that kiss you shared in your room. That had been the breaking point, built on persistent touching, strange comments about the impending breakup, and much more public affection than initially agreed upon.

Riku must have noticed your deer-in-the-headlights look, laughing to himself, "What? Didn't you know? He liked you before that project."

"No, he never told me," you murmur, barely registering his words, still absorbed in his confession.

"He'll kill me," he jokes, "but the truth is, he's been in love with you for a while," he adds casually, taking a huge bite of his cupcake and chewing it while you sit there, thinking about all the revelations.

Yushi was never much of a party person.

Sure, he went sometimes, but more out of social obligation than enjoyment. He never understood the appeal of getting drunk at some random house, but unfortunately, if you were going, he had to go too.

And honestly, he wasn't going to complain about strutting around as your boyfriend and seeing you all dressed up and looking so pretty—after all, he was just a man.

He picked you up, after you had agreed to walk to your friend's house, which allowed you both to drink, since, in your own words, you wouldn't survive sober.

The walk there was peaceful, chatting quietly and letting him hold your hand calmed your fears about what might happen tonight.

When you arrived, things at your friends' house seemed to have picked up; people were dancing and filling every available space. It was a private gathering.

You don't waste time finding your friends, now your night begins, and his torture, although at least I would never speak ill of them in front of you. You don't waste any time offering him a beer, a stark contrast to your own vodka mix.

Everything seems to be going wonderfully. Sure, it's as awkward as can be; Everyone present in the kitchen probably knew about their fight, but no one dared to bring it up, and that was for the best, since it was the first time they had a conversation in which they at least tried to include Yushi.

At some point, you disappear from Yushi's side, claiming you're going with the girls to get a drink refill. But twenty minutes pass and you haven't returned, so even though the conversation he's having with the guys is somewhat interesting, he'd much rather have you by his side.He thinks that the advantages of being an outcast have brought mostly good things to his life; he never considered it as something particularly bad, just as one of his characteristics. But now, listening to the conversation your friends are forcing on you, he wishes he had a bit more presence to make himself known.

You should have known better, after all, you knew them since you were in diapers, literally. 

You should have known that they didn't actually think he deserved a chance, this was just another ploy to get you to see how you two weren't the right person for each other. You knew just how stubborn they could get, having watched their temper tantrums over designer bags and sports cars. You don't know why you were shocked they acted like this. 

"He barely spoke all night," Yunah complains, earning a withering glare from Yeju. "He just... stares around."

"Well, you didn't make the best impression on him," you explain.

"You told him?" she asks, annoyed, acting as if you had betrayed them, as if you had no right to tell your own boyfriend what they said about him and you.

"He's my boyfriend, Yunah," you mutter, now getting angry with her. You don't understand where all this apprehension comes from. Wasn't this what they wanted? For you to get a man?

“We never saw you with someone like him,” Yeju remarks, trying to defuse the situation. “We just thought you needed someone more… suitable for you.”

“He’s very sweet and treats me well. Why isn’t he the one for me?” you ask, looking at the girls, whom you barely recognize. You couldn't believe that these were the same girls you had shared your childhood with, growing up alongside them and even considering being part of your family at some point.

“Common, you need someone who can handle it,” Moka says, after having been busy drinking the contents of the bottles in front of her, which seemed to be changing her behavior. “Hell, someone who can tame you,” she adds as if it were the greatest joke of all time, earning a laugh from an equally drunk Yunah.

“Also, if my friends told me to break up with my boyfriend, I would reconsider some things,” Yeju says, as if she had suddenly become the voice of reason.

“Like you did with your ex?” you reply in a sarcastic tone, annoyed by his double standards.

“That was different,” she excuses herself.

“How so?”

“I’m me, and you’re… you,” she says, as if it were the most logical answer. “We don’t want you to end up dating him just because you think it’s the only option.”

“Do you think so little of me?” you ask.

“Tell him not to get used to it, you’re going to get bored of him anyway,” Yunah says, nodding behind her where Yushi is, having overheard everything.

He would classify that moment as a déjà vu. In any case, it was the culmination of what had made him feel self-conscious all his life. And he couldn’t even be angry about it, because they were right. Why else would you have chosen him? Wasn't he simply a safe option, one you wouldn't fall for? But when you turn to look at him, his heart breaks. Because of the pain in your eyes, the tears on your cheeks, and the way you hug him. Because he hoped it was real, that it meant something. And as you lead him out of the house, he thinks it’s the end, especially when you sit down on the sidewalk and force him to stay by your side.

“I’m sorry,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, trying to reassure you.

"I shouldn't have put you through this."

“We can agree on that. But it’s not your fault they’re jerks,” he says. "Besides, they're not wrong. We're an incompatible couple."

“Why?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“In no universe would you date a guy like me. They’re right. You deserve someone who’s a good match for you,” he says, not daring to look at you. “But not tame you, that was really weird.”

“I like you, ushi,” you whisper, leaning back on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you feel this way”

And his heart breaks, even more so when he feels your hands turn him to face you, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss, one of those that takes your breath away, one of those that you think about late at night, going over every little detail, every sigh. The kind that drives you crazy.

You pull away and try not to let the way his lips chase you get into your head. If you've learned anything tonight, besides that your friends are idiots, it's that Yushi doesn't like you. And it breaks your heart.

"Take me home," you plead, "please."

Things got weird after that. You didn't directly say that you had ended your fake relationship, but to everyone around you it was almost a given that you had broken up, the reason attributed to your friends, with whom you barely interacted at that time, even if they had tried to apologize several times. You were hardly interacting anymore and had resorted to simply ignoring Yushi, much to his despair. So now, he finds himself back where he started, at lunch, confessing his problems once again.

"You told her what?" Sakuya nearly screamed when he heard how his Friday night had gone, and found himself having to repeat the words that had been haunting him all weekend.

"Are you stupid?" Riku asked from across the table, earning a withering glare from the listener.

"What? I didn't say anything that wasn't true," he defended himself, though deep down he knew he was wrong.

"Basically, you told her that you don't see yourself dating her, the girl you supposedly like," Sion says with a serious face.

“No. I told her we’re an incompatible couple. And it’s true! You even agreed.” He complains. He doesn’t understand why he’s repeating what everyone else has been saying about them. If everyone thought it was true, wouldn’t that mean there must be some truth to it?

“You told her, after all her friends told her to break up with you, that they were right,” Riku explains, pausing after each word as if to make sure he understood. “And now you don’t understand why she won’t talk to you.”

“I never told her I didn’t like her.”

“But you never told her you did it, she can’t read minds, you know?” Jaehee remarks.

“So what now?”

“Perish,” Sakuya says, earning a smack on the back of the head from Ryo.

“Talk to her?” the aggressor says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “How you’ve gotten this far in life is, honestly, a social miracle.”

“Show some respect, I’m still older than you.”

"Then act like it." The younger one remains expressionless, avoiding the slap that Sakuya tries to give him.

And with that, Yushi ends the conversation. Sadly, he knows they’re right, and that for once in his life, he knows he has to step out of his comfort zone. He can’t just sit back and wait for you to come back.

You should have known there was no way Yushi could actually like you. Everyone could see it except you, constantly deceiving yourself into thinking that those fleeting moments, the touches, the kisses meant something. That someone like him, with all the patience and tranquility in the world, would want to be with someone like you, quite the opposite.

After the disaster that the party had been, you finally decided to cut ties with your group of friends, and it was difficult. Having known them almost your whole life, it hurt a lot to have to let them go through something as stupid as your love life, but if that was the hill they wanted to die on, so be it. You weren't going to stick around to keep playing their toxic game.

The hard part came when you realized how much you'd trusted Yushi during the fight with your friends, and now that they were gone for good and you weren't dating Yushi anymore, the loneliness was palpable. But you weren't going to let the haters win, so signing up for different campus activities had become the new norm. There you met new faces or simply reconnected with acquaintances, chatting about classes and various other topics. You hadn't realized how fun conversation can be when it's not about criticizing people all the time. Now you have returned to the debate club, joined a reading group, and even attended the pilates classes they held on Saturdays. Sure, living with the enemy was sometimes hard, but you were always cordial.

The hard part was missing someone you never had. You had heard people say that they barely noticed him when he was in their space, something that you, unfortunately, could not relate to. You had always been aware of him, of his handsome face or his calm nature, so once you actually had to interact with him it was no surprise. Sure, you were a chatterbox by definition, but it didn't seem to bother him. So now, the tranquility feels a little emptier when you don't have the boy sitting next to you. And how do you deal with a breakup when there was nothing to break in the first place?

The answer was to ignore it. If there was one thing you were, it was a gold medalist for drowning yourself in silly side quests if it meant avoiding acknowledging something truly important. And although you still feel guilty for having thought about it, you appreciated his passive nature, as it made running away from him exponentially easier. It's not like you'd actually be sharing classes, so you could still chat with Sion in your shared modules and slip away at the end of the day. Something you planned to do until the end of the day, it seemed. Because ignoring the problem is easier than being told again that you're too much.

He hated this, the distance you'd put between you, your friends who still gave him strange looks whenever they crossed paths, and, most importantly, he hated himself. He could have avoided this, he could have been brave enough, for once, to confess the truth of his feelings, that they were never just part of a deal. He would have saved himself, and more importantly, you, the pain.

So after a sleepless night, unread messages, and some scolding from the boys, she finally decided to face it, and that meant having to come face to face with her roommate, whom he still didn't like, only this time he was more than right in that opinion.

"She's not here," Yunah informed him, his resting bitch face as charming as ever.

"Do you know where she is?" he asked, wishing for once he had a slightly more intimidating voice, instead of the meek one he possessed.

"I think she's in the library, with a boy," she informs him, before quickly closing the door, only to open it a few seconds later. "And I'm sorry. For everything." And with that, she left, slamming the door in his face.

Well, he knows where to go. A path familiar to him from all the times he accompanied you there, whether to drop you off or to study with you, even though he spent most of the time admiring you while you wrote, a confession he will never make, even less so when he remembers all the times you caught his gaze over the laptop, raising an eyebrow when you looked him in the eyes.

Upon entering the library, he heads straight to the one table he knows you usually study at, the one over which he once went off on a strange tangent about how good the location was for five minutes, an endearing thought that once again proved useful to him. And like clockwork, you're there. Chatting with a guy he couldn't care less about, even if there was a lingering sense of jealousy as he approached.

"Can we talk?" he interrupts, mentally apologizing to the poor guy he just interrupted, but he needed to take advantage of this sudden surge of courage before it disappeared.

“About what?” you say, turning to look at him.

"It's private," he says, glancing at the boy and mentally apologizing once again for kicking him off the table.

"What do you need? If it's for the deal, I can send you the money," you say, barely looking at him before returning to your work.

"It's not about the deal," he says. "Well, yes, but not like that."

You give him a confused look.

"I like you," he says, closing his eyes as if bracing himself for the impact. "I didn't mean to say we weren't compatible, or that you agreed with your friends. I don't think you're unworthy of love or untamable. I like you a lot, and I think we make a great couple, you know? Opposites attract and all that." 

You're speechless. That was the most words you had ever heard him say in all the time you had known him, and you could barely process the impact of the first few before the torrent of words hit you.

"It's okay if you don't like me anymore. Or if you just don't want to go out with me, I thought it was something you should know. Goodbye," he adds before running out of the library, disappearing as quickly as he'd arrived. You barely have time to process it before he vanishes.

Once again, you were never one to give up, and even less one to let others win, so there was no way you were going to let him have the last word, continuing on the way he had disappeared.

You caught up with him right outside the library and wasted no time turning around and wrapping your arms around him, this time leaving him stunned.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend, ushi," you say as you walk away.

And with that, for the first time in their relationship, both fake and real, Yushi presses his lips against yours, making the first move, and for once, it's not so scary to take the initiative.

bonus:

Hanging out with Yushi's group of friends had become, once again, the new normal. It was common during the week to see you and your friends frolicking in the green spaces of the campus. It was even less unusual to see them all out and about when the sun came out, like today. You were finishing a book you'd borrowed from the library while Yushi rested his head on your lap, alternating between listening to Sion and Jaehees's conversation and dozing off, all while Riku and the others played volleyball a few feet away.

You hear the boy leaning against you call your name, which makes you stop the hand that's been stroking his head, and you decide to turn the page you're reading (surprise!) to turn around and look at him.

"Do you need anything?" you tease, gently moving the loose strands of hair that fall across his forehead.

"Not in particular," he hums, enjoying the gentle strokes. "I'm glad you're here."

“I’m glad to be here too,” you say sincerely. And for once, you meant it. You truly believed that for once you had found your people, and even better, your man. You weren’t the one waiting for your Prince Charming to come and save you. And you didn’t want him to, either, but you had found someone you truly wanted to spend the rest of your life with, not because he would save you from loneliness, but because he desired you as much as you desired him, or even more.

Not because you were a damsel in distress or because he needed fixing, just because, somewhere in the universe, the stars aligned, and you finally had found the balance.

[106alibi]

good graces ; lee jeno

pairing: boxer!jeno x magazine-editor!reader

synopsis: y/n knows she's petty. so when she found out her (secret) celebrity boyfriend of a year had been cheating on her, through a news article to make things worse, she decided to cook up an action plan to get back at him, and what better way to take revenge than to get together with his all-time favourite athlete?

or, in which y/n involves an unsuspecting lee jeno into her little revenge scheme on her now ex-boyfriend.

ib: good graces, sabrina carpenter

featuring: haewon of nmixx, kazuha of lesserafim, ningning of aespa, 00z of nct dream, (side chars.) natty of kiss of life, jake of enhypen

genre: humour, fluff, angst (maybe)

disclaimers: fem pronouns for y/n, will give disclaimers for individual chapters if I see fit!, mentions of cheating, profanities, kms/kys jokes, inappropriate themes and jokes

notes: need to preface and say I love jake i love jake i love jake i love natty i love natty i love natty

playlist: good graces (sabrina carpenter) | taste (sabrina carpenter) | thank u, next (ariana grande) | mantra (jennie) | dopamine (giselle) | get him back (olivia rodrigo)

status: ongoing (061124)

updates: every wednesday

taglist: open~ drop a reply or ask to be added!

a/n: letting this marinate before i start it from mid to end november! i have high hopes for this one and i hope you give jeno lots of love because there is a serious jeno smau drought on this app 💔💔 if you want me to tag you when the profiles/prologue drops just send a reply or an ask too! love you all 💜💜

profiles 24/7 on the bowl | protected by jeno squad

chapters

chapter 00. prologue

chapter 01. LIKE P IN THE V??

chapter 02. umm uhh O.K!

chapter 03. clout chaser

chapter 04. rookie mistake

chapter 05. I think she's flirting (written)

chapter 06. a girl can't smile in 2024 without flirting?

chapter 07. Awkward!

chapter 08. soft launch

chapter 09. bad luck (written)

chapter 10. atrociously negative rizz

chapter 11. nonchalant kween

chapter 12. taemin sunbaenim

chapter 13. sweet talk

chapter 14. cucumber shreds

chapter 15. pretty

chapter 16. just a friend

chapter 17. use me

chapter 18. guilty?

chapter 19. not before I do

[dreamsgirly]

I'm actually thinking about making a nct wish smau but how do I do the post layout.... Like how do people make it look so cute 🤔

[driedfleurs]

WANT ME

pairing: tokuno yushi x fem!reader

synopsis: you really wish yushi would text you about stuff apart from classwork. he wishes you would understand that if he tries talking to you about anything else with you he'll embarrass himself because he might be a little scared of you.

genre: romance, fluff, angst, college au

starring: the other members of nct wish, anton of riize, juria of xg, moka & minju of illit (+ cameos from many others)

featuring: cursing, kys/kms jokes, suggestive jokes (no actual smut), you fall first he falls harder, both of them are dense, ignore timestamps

status: ongoing (19.05.26- )

networks: @fantasia-films @k-records

taglist: @filmrku @kpopluver167 @luvvyushii @bloomingwish @the-phantomss @mekistime @jm1655 @banez (open!)

a/n: partially based on real events which still make me want to kms but here we are i will potentially never see the guy again but atleast it gave me fic material </3 unless we're taking the same minor next semester which yay <3 (knowing my posting schedule you'll probably find out around like chapter 6)

profiles1 | profiles2

01. muscle mommy

02. the father of medicine

03. thirst traps

04. sakuryo attack

05. get an alarm clock

06. room temperature hazelnut iced coffee

07. queerbait

08. daddy doesn't like this kitten

09. tired

10. crashout (written)

tba...

© driedfleurs

[dreamsgirly]

If I write a smau what app are people using to make them..?? Pls tell me so that maybeee I’ll write one 👀

[hnykiss]

tummy ache ⸝⸝ .ᐟ⋆

pairing teacher!yushi x nurse!reader

plot single mom yn just started working as a nurse at a new elementary school. she loves kids more than the next person but that doesn't mean she wants to see them constantly coming into her office, so why are there so many kids with tummy aches in this school? mr. tokuno might be the reason...

notes so basically this was a delusion i had to feed while at work. i love yushi. i love little kids. i love quiet sweet yushi. like come on do you see the visionnn.

taglist open !

status ongoing ~

yn's coparents 🍮🥄 ˚₊‧ yushi's enemies

⁰zero ; cinnamon

¹one ; candy

²two ; marshmallows

³three ; sugar cookie

[dreamsgirly]

Ugh I need more nct wish smau, Ive read like almost all of them on here and they’re either still updating OR UNFINISHED 😩 highly debating if I should just write one myself..

[peterm4rker]

CAN I MAKE IT ANY MORE OBVIOUS? ── a maeda riku smau

in which maeda riku just wanted to have a nice summer out at the skate park with his friends once again without thinking of the girl that broke his heart back at college, but he finds out shes dating the guy he has hated his entire life and will be joining his trip.

or

in which yn ln is prepared to have another boring summer at home, but is rudely interrupted by one of her brother's friends skating up to her and calling her babe with what seemed like plea in his eyes and the most stunning smile she's ever seen.

ᯓ pairing ;; skater!riku x reader

ᯓ genres ;; social media au, written parts, summer au, fake dating au, slowburn, fluff, acquaintances to fake dating to friends to lovers.

ᯓ featuring ;; xikers, itzy, le sserafim, other nct units.

ᯓ warnings ;; profanity, sexual jokes and innuendos, death jokes, alcohol use, maybe weed consumption, let me know if there's more!

ᯓ status ;; ongoing!

ᯓ updates ;; new chapters on mondays, wednesdays and saturdays !!

ᯓ taglist ;; open!

ᯓ authors note ;; once again here advocating against the insane lack of content for certain ppl in this app! my goal is to have at least one for each nct unit before i move on to other groups, and who better than riku to make that happen! this is dedicated to the loml @lyvhie btw. also, if i forgot to add someone to the tl OR you want to be added for the profiles coming out next monday let me know under this post!

ᯓ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!!

ᯓ reblogs and comments are much appreciated !!!

ᯓ taglist in case i need it ;; @winwintea @neozon3nha @kittydollzz @spacejip @injunnie-lemon @jovialdelusionbouquet @n0hyuck @julsinglee @leejenoenthusiast @morkiee @taroddori @mrsjohnnysuh @sunghoonsgfreal @dudekiss3r @m1ng1swife @grlscrushing @flaminghotyourmom @secretvivii @ballsa420 @sillyyuz @sunghoonsgfreal @insbread @222brainrot @va1entinaa @ayukas @peanutbutterjam505 @jvngw0nlvr @egojo1st @holyhaech @sungie-634 @i-kai @jaeyunss @hollxe1 @hahaechans @channielovbot @haechsauce @vivilovesuu @wooyeouu @jungwonbropls @tae2an @richachaslide @mbella607 @tiurftsrifeht @knrejj + let me know if someone is missing or if you want to be included !!

outfit repeaters || brochachos

zero. MY babies

one. we're out.

two. the creature feature

three. almost normal (written)

four. FUCK YEAHHH

five. new gf kinda nervous🤭

six. soft launch😋

seven. get used to it!

eight. its friday🐶👅

nine. cough.

ten. half bad (written)

eleven. he exploded

twelve. pinky promise

thirteen. On Our Way!

fourteen. oh no (written)

fifteen. not mad just disappointed

sixteen. all power to you

seventeen. throwback thursday

eighteen. you ruined it

nineteen. sick and tired of your shit

twenty. dread (written)

twenty one. gentle parenting

twenty two. GIUSEPPE

twenty three. gang

twenty four. FUCK OFF

twenty five. fairy lights festival (written)

twety six. d-3

twenty seven. tan boobs gang😛

twenty eight. chosen (written)

twenty nine. saur cute

thirty. for real this time🫶

bonus!

one. kiss cam

© peterm4rker, 2025

[neocharm]

A Woman's Perspective...pt.2 oh!sion x asfab reader

"Things that I do for you, hopin’ you’ll do to me, the same things I do to you. That's equality...’ - POV By DVSN

WARNING: THIS FANFIC INCLUDES THE FOLLOWING

slow burn, non!idol au, a little nipple play, college!au, oral sex(m!r), kissing, masturbation(f), plot with smut, non-established relationship, L-bomb, shy!reader, service dom!idol, panty stealing, body worship, annoying/teasing sion, cursing, no reader orgasm, praise, experienced idol, non-experienced reader, and more. If any of these things are triggering for you, please look away. IF YOU ARE A MINOR GO AWAY! DO NOT INTERACT!

6.4k wc! Plus-size friendly, written with woc in mind! sorry in advance for any mistakes!

“What's your problem with me?”

Your heart dropped to your feet. After the debate, you avoided Sion, making it impossible for him to even get a word in before you turned and walked away. During class you would sit as far away from him as possible—though you’d still look his way, you didn’t even argue back when he’d make points that were very clearly wrong just to rile you up. He noticed it right away, you pulling back from him—avoiding him. Your words were much softer, voice a bit quieter, you were very clearly bothered by him, but not in the way you used to be.

The only logical explanation was that you didn’t enjoy yourself—not as much as you told him anyway, you obviously hated it, or maybe felt pressured. All Sion wanted was an explanation, if you hated it then he would understand, but he couldn’t go on like this. He missed being around you, he missed how you would yell, the way your eyes would be lit up with fire every time he spoke, how you clung to his every word simply to combat them. So when he saw you scrambling to leave, quickly gathering your things, he grabbed his bag and rushed out the door, all so he could corner you and finally understand what was wrong.

“Problem?” You tried to keep your chin up, scoffing in his face as you rolled your eyes. “Why would I have a problem with you?” You couldnt even look him in the eyes, not even at his face, your horrible attempt to seem unbothered was pitiful.

Sion narrowed his eyes at you, conflicted with emotions. “Then why are you avoiding me?” He asked, “you haven’t talked of me since the debate.”

You tensed at his tone, it was so direct and his words were the complete truth. He has every right to assume you suddenly hate him, you didn’t even try to hide it.

“Did I do something?” He leaned a bit closer, his head tilted as he searched your face for something—anything to understand. Just anything to help him grasp what happened. “Do you hate me?”

Your heart was pounding. You felt tongue tied, your emotions and thoughts scrambled and complicated. Do you hate him? Tch! How could you? Why would you? That day two weeks ago was one of the best things to ever happened to you, Sion brought you to a point of pleasure you thought impossible—unrealistic even. You couldn’t truly hate him if you tried, but…but you couldn’t bring yourself to see him again. You felt humiliated, like you’d been declawed, and even worse, like that complicated feeling between distain and admiration was something much—much worse.

“Please…” His voice was soft, his tone gentle and genuine. Your eyes flickered to him despite your best efforts, and your heart clenched. “Just tell me, what did I do wrong?”

Your silence made his hands sweat, his heart racing with anxious anticipation for your response. You wanted to explain, but you didn’t know what to say.

“I…” You inhaled deeply, your heart stuttering for a split second, “I don’t.” You replied.

Obviously your reply confused him. “You don’t?” He questioned, “Y/N, please, you gotta use more words than that.” The inflection in his tone made your stomach churn.

God! you hated how weak he made you. “I—I don’t hate you.” You lowered your gaze

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” He asked in a rushed tone.

“Because…” Sion answered for you.

“Because you didn’t enjoy yourself?” You almost snapped your neck to look at him.

“What?!” You exclaimed, “Of course I did!” You replied. Luckily, there was no one else around in the empty hallway.

“Then what is it?” He pressed, “Do you feel like I pressured you?” You jerked your head back in offense.

“What are you talking about?”

You couldn’t believe he would even suggest that, the question itself felt loaded, like he was implying that he tricked you—coerced you, into something. You didn’t say yes because he played some dirty game, or because he talked you into it. You said yes because you wanted to, you said yes because you were curious. Even if he wanted it more than you, and even if he had motives for being so happy about being your partner, you still said yes. It was your choice just as much as it was his.

“Then what?” He stepped closer to you, the space between you dwindling. “What is it that’s making you avoid me?”

You looked at him again, this time you looked into his eyes. They were so full of longing and curiosity, you could see that this was eating away at him, just screaming at you for being cruel. You felt that same feeling again, the same bitter feeling of remorse you had when you thought you made him cry—only this time, much stronger.

“Sion…” You sighed his name, breaking eye contact as you tried to think of a better excuse. “I don’t hate you, and you didn’t pressure me into doing anything, okay?” His expression softened but the ache he felt was etched into his face.

“So why are you avoiding me?” His throat tightened, his face flushed.

“Because…” And you stopped again. Your silence made him roll his eyes, was it really that hard? “Because I—I don’t know.” His face fell.

All this time he thought he did something, he made excuses for you—logical and illogical ones, mentally forgiving you for each and every one, beating himself up for others and trying to come up with a proper apology…just for you not to know why you’re ignoring him? Sion inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, obviously he needed to give you time to process your emotions, he can see that now.

“I get it.” As he dejected you panicked. He never gives up that easily. “You don’t have to explain yourself, I won’t pressure you into giving me an answer.”

You opened your mouth to speak as you looked at him, but your words caught in your throat. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll listen.”

His patience made you kick yourself. How could he be so mature about this? He has every right to be upset, to yell at you and say he hates you, but instead, he’s just gonna give up and walk away? For some reason—one that doesn’t register in your head, you stopped him.

“Sion,” You looked at him through your lashes, and your heart raced. “I…like you…” You admitted.

He knew this, you told him before, but it still made his breathing catch in his throat. “I like you a lot.” You paused and dropped your gaze as a lump formed in your throat, “I just…feel…embarrassed.” You finally got the truth out, and at this new revelation Sion grinned.

The frustration and heartbreak he felt subsided as he connected the dots. How didn’t he notice it? The way you would lower your head around him, biting your lip, how you would stumble on your words—something you hardly ever did when having to speak during class. How didn’t he see it?

“Embarrassed?” And there it was, the humor in his tone that made you want to crawl in a hole and die. “Why would you be embarrassed?” He questioned. You began to mentally tick off reasons.

You actually admitted to liking him, let him change your mind entirely about something you were sure of, and worst of all; you came from grinding against his thigh. You weren’t just embarrassed—you were humiliated. You truly did feel declawed.

“Because of you!” The bite in your tone returned, but it was much softer than before. Sion smirked.

“Me?” You rolled your eyes, going from concerned to annoyed in a matter of milliseconds. “How did I embarrass you?” He asked with a slight chuckle. You looked at him and narrowed your eyes.

“If anything, you shouldve felt empowered.” His claim made your eyes widen.

“Empowered?!” Theres a lot of things you felt after Sion ate you out. Embarrassed, humiliated, confused, happy, electrified, reborn—but empowered? “Why the hell would that make me feel empowered?”

Sion licked his lips, the answer to him was so simple, it only made sense. “Because,” he started. “A man got on his knees for you, didn’t it feel good?” He teased. “Having a man get on his knees, please you, and ask for nothing in return?”

You sharply inhaled, you didn’t think about it like that. In your eyes, you were the one toyed with, but in Sion’s—in Sion’s eyes, he was your toy, just something for you to get off on, something for you to use. That revelation made all the disorganized thoughts in your head jump in line. He’s right, you were in charge. Sion snickered and shook his head, as if he couldn’t stop himself from laughing he doubled over, bursting out into laughter.

“Oh—Oh my god!” He cackled loudly and you watched in confusion, scared to ask what he thought was funny. “You—Your face!” He shook his head, throwing his head back.

“What’s so funny?” You asked growing anxious.

“You!” He declared, his fit of laughter died down and he locked eyes with you, intense and amused. “Does it make you feel better if you image me as a toy?”

You choked on a breath, your eyes buck wide. “H—Huh?!” Admittedly, it did make you feel better, and you thought that was what he meant.

“It does,” he stated, “doesn’t it?” His words came out in a slow and deliberate manner, like he wanted you to second guess what he’d just said.

You were in charge, right? Hell if you knew, Sion made it hard to know up from down. This was why you always fought with him, yelling and jabbing your finger at him as you tried to beat into his mind—and reaffirm in your own, that you were right.

“Don’t worry,” He reached his hand up and gently caressed your face. Your entire body stiffened, heat rising underneath his palm and spreading down your neck. “I’ll be your toy, if that’s what you want.”

Your lips parted and the anger you felt weakened. His finger grazed your bottom lip and your knees buckled, heat beginning to pool in your lower abdomen as your breathing hallows. “But, Y/N…” His words stirred up your mind, your eyes flickered down to his lips as he spoke. You hummed softly, disarmed by his touch.

“Don’t ignore me anymore, okay?” You nodded as if your head were empty, your knees growing weak as he grinned. “Good girl.” He moved his hand from your face and petted the top of your head, lightly pushing you back, making you stumble a bit as you slowly collected yourself.

“I still have your panties.” Sion said, not an ounce of shame in his voice. You blinked, finally coming back down from the sudden and intense heightened state from before. You shushed him and looked around to see if anyone had heard him.

That’s right, you did go back home without any panties on, you figured you must’ve left them by mistake—reasonably you weren’t at all concerned about anything other than Sion at the time, so the thought of them hadn’t crossed your mind. But at the mention of them, you recall the pair being your favorite and you certainly don’t want him to keep them.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You asked in a hushed voice. Sion cocked his brow at you, and you sighed in understanding. He must’ve tried to but you did good at avoiding him.

“Do you want them back?” His question made your heart race, like it meant something more—like you were walking in a trap, yet, you said yes and followed him back to his apartment.

“Here they are.” He held them in his hand with a smirk on his face.

You eyed the cotton material, they were clean, like they were freshly washed, and soft like they were given some sort of special treatment. You took them from his hand and the smell made you frown, you couldn’t help but bring them up to your nose—they smelt just like him. Like fresh laundry.

“Why’d you wash them?” Sion’s face flushed, he licked his lips and looked away from you.

“Uh,” he held back a laugh. “Just because.” Your eyebrows knotted together and you put them in your back pocket.

“Anyways…” You looked around his bedroom. It was the same as you remembered it, his bed looked just as comfortable as before, his entire room smelt amazing, and his desk was still neat. “I’m gonna go, thanks for washing them…I guess.”

You turned to leave, wanting to get out of his apartment before the memories of that day began to flood in, but he stopped you.

“Wait.” You turned on your heels. “I was actually hoping you would stay for a while.” His big brown eyes held you captive. Deep down you were dying to stay, just to spend a little bit of time with him and melt in his almost offensively pleasurable touch. But, as infatuated with him as you felt, you couldn’t shake the anger he made you feel.

“I’m sorry.” You gave him a tense smile, “but, uhm, you know I have to study and I really need to get home before it’s too late.”

“I can help you study.” Your breath hitched as he stepped closer to you. Sion looked annoyingly attractive, his silky black hair parted down the middle, his pillow soft lips slightly wet with his own saliva. He looked painfully perfect. You looked down at his lips and licked your own.

You really—really, needed to leave. “N—No! No, it’s okay. I haven’t ate either, and I need to shower—“ He cut you off.

“You can shower here, and I’ll get you dinner.” He took another step closer, with every inch of space swallowed by his body it became increasingly difficult to breathe, to think.

You shook your head, “I can’t…really.” You tried to find the part of you that hated him for being everything you wanted, everything you needed, but she was screaming at you to kiss him. That part of you wanted him to undress you and touch you in ways that would make a nun blush.

“You really don’t want to?” Sion asked, though his tone was playful, he was serious. If you didn’t want to stay, he wouldn’t try to convince you.

“I…” You couldn’t bring yourself to lie, no matter how bad you tried, you couldn’t get the stupid words to come out. “I’ll stay.” Sion’s lips twitched, he bit back a smile and raised his eyebrows in a caring gesture.

“If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to.” He clarified, “It’s okay to tell me no, you know that, right?” You nodded, breathless as your thoughts began to wander. “So, do you want to stay?” You nodded.

“I want to.” With those three words Sion nodded, grinning ear to ear as he looked at you.

“Okay then, I’ll help you study.”

And he did, for an hour he sat with you going over the notes for your biochemistry class. He read them back to you and questioned you about the things you had written, and although you knew the answers to the questions he asked, you couldn’t get any of them correct. Your mind was filled with thoughts of him, you couldn’t focus if you were paid to, all you could think of was Sion, Sion, and Sion.

Your eyes were trained on his hands, watching his fingers as he toyed with the edges of the pages. You fought hard not to, but your mind kept replying how they looked coated in your juices, how he sucked them clean, how they felt in side of you. You clenched your thighs together, your body growing hot as a slickness builds between your legs. God, you wanted him so fucking bad. So badly that you didn’t even hear him call your name.

“Y/N!” He snapped his fingers in your face and you flinched back, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Y—Yeah?” Sion sighed and shook his head, pretending to be upset that you weren’t paying attention—he did a horrible job at hiding his smile.

“Did you hear what I said?” You looked away from him, trying to recall anything he said in the past few seconds. All your thoughts were overrode by the image of him between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as his tongue swirled around your clit. He took your silence for a no. “I said, we should take a break. I’ll order some food and you can shower, it’ll be here by the time you get out.”

You laughed awkwardly, trying to pretend that you heard him the first time. “Oh! I was uhm, I was just thinking about what to eat.” You cleared your throat and scratched the back of your neck. “You can get anything…whatever is fine.”

Sion didn’t press you into answering, instead he nodded his head and pulled out his phone. “You can get a towel from my room, there should be one in my closet, I just washed it.” You nodded and quietly thanked him before getting up from the kitchen table and stumbling a bit—you prayed he didn’t catch that. You inhaled deeply and walked carefully to his bedroom.

For some reason you felt aroused, being in his room felt intimate, it was driving you insane. You desperately needed to touch yourself, but a cold shower would have to be enough. You opened his closet and folded neatly on a shelf was a soft grey towel, beside it were a stack of black tank tops. You bit your lip, you hated when he wore those, they always looked so good on him. Your fingers grazed the soft material and you let out a shaky breath. You felt like such a pervert, but even touching his shirt turned you on.

“I need to calm down…” you ripped your hand away from his shirt and snatched the towel, rushing off to his bathroom so you could shower.

His bathroom was nicely cleaned, stocked with all of his personal hygiene products and supplies, you slide the glass door opened and turned on the warm water. Letting it run for a moment before undressing. Even that turned you on, you felt feral, undressing in his bathroom, in the same space that he undresses in did something to you. There was no way you’d be able to shower without touching yourself.

You stepped into the water and sighed softly, allowing the water to cascade down your body, the heat engulfing you as the room grew foggy. With your eyes closed you slide your hand down your body, between your breasts and between your thighs, moaning softly—thoughtlessly, as your fingers grazed against your clit, not considering for a moment that Sion might hear.

It didn’t cross your mind for a moment that he could possibly hear you as you pleased yourself in his shower—you couldn’t think logically with your mind so clouded with lust, your thoughts were hazy, the image of him lingering. His hands, his lips, the look on his face when he feels prideful, you focused on the combination of those things. Imagining him behind you, his strong body pressed against yours as he kissed your neck. Your breathing grew heavier—louder.

You could hear him in your head, praising you. “You’re so pretty.” “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” You moaned loudly, leaning against the wall to steady yourself. Your lips trembled as his name left your lips, you could hear it now, him encouraging you to be louder, to say his name, and best of all, to cum for him. And you did, you gasped, your eyes screwed shut as you threw your head back and called out his name, finishing in record timing.

After coming down you began to wash yourself, smiling at the scent of his soap as you lathered your body in it. “No wonder he always smells so good.” You muttered to yourself. You took your time before turning the water off, and wrapped your body in the towel tightly. Feeling much happier, and relaxed, you exited the bathroom with a smile, but it slowly dropped when you realized that you didn’t have a second pair of clothes to wear.

“Fuck…” You hesitated but walked into the kitchen, “Sion?” He looked up and his air got caught in his throat.

You had to be testing him, his eyes racked over your entire body, drinking in the sight of your skin—still wet, and your body covered with his favorite towel. He could’ve fainted right there.

“Uhm, yeah?” He ripped his eyes away from your legs, forcing himself to look only at your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have any clothes to wear.” Sion almost cursed, he didn’t think of that.

“Uh…I could wash the clothes you just took off.” He suggested, fighting between being a pervert and being respectful. “Bring them here, I’ll put them in the washer.” You put your hand on your hip, narrowing your eyes as you fought not to blame him or accuse him of planning this.

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Sit on my face?” Sion wanted to say, but instead, he stood up and inhaled deeply, thinking hard for a solution that would make you feel comfortable. “Well, itll only take a little while for your clothes to dry.” He answered.

“Just wait and I’ll get your clothes.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes as he walked past you to retrieve your clothes from the bathroom.

“Great, now I’m stuck like this…” You huffed and held your towel together as you sat down on his couch, it felt weird to be naked in his apartment, equally as intimate but strange.

“Here.” Sion came back with the pair of underwear he returned, holding them out to you, “You can put these on for now.”

“Thanks…” You took them and stood up.

With a grin he licked his lips and asked, “so how was your shower?” In a knowing tone. Immediately you froze and looked at him. “Was it good?”

You tensed and laughed awkwardly, “it was just a shower…” “nothing special.” You muttered.

Sion pouted his lips and raised his brow, “really?” He asked in a teasing tone, “It sounded special to me.” You looked at him like a deer in headlights. No…no way he heard you. “It sounded like you really—really…enjoyed that shower.”

You wanted to curl up in a ball and die. You hadn’t even realized that he heard you, you assumed that the water would be louder than you were, or that he was just too busy to hear you.

“You must’ve really needed that, huh?” He smirked, amused by your petrified expression. Sion took advantage of your stunned state and closed the space between your bodies, “You know,” he started. “If you wanted me that bad, you could always ask.”

You looked up at him, speechless and embarrassed, yet strangely turned on. “You know I love to please.” Your knees buckled and he quickly caught you, placing his hands on your sides with a smirk on his face.

“Gosh…I fucking hate you…” You replied weakly. Sion cooed softly.

“You do?” He asked in a mocking tone, you could feel yourself growing increasingly aroused all over again.

“Yeah.” Your tone was harsh and dripping in lust.

“Yeah?” He mocked. “How much, hm?” He leaned in close, his lips brushed against yours and your heart skipped a beat.

“So—So much…”

“Well, I love you.” You placed your hands on his chest, your eyes closed and your lips parted. “So fucking much.” Finally, he kisssd you.

Your bodies melt into the kiss, his tongue slips into your mouth and you moan softly, he swallows it, his hands gripping your sides as he pulls you closer. Your tongues roll around together, this time there is no fight for dominance, Sion over powers you with ease. You grip his shirt and he moves one hand to your lower back, sliding it down to your ass. He pulls away and begins attacking your neck, littering your freshly washed skin with hungry kisses as he groped your ass.

“S—Sion…” Your voice is shaky, you wrapped your arms around him and put one hand in his hair, gripping the locks tightly as you leaned your head back.

“I love it when you say my name.” Sion’s voice was trembling, desire taking over as he licked a strip up your neck, kissing over the spot again, sucking softly as he went lower, kissing your shoulders and collars. His hand slid down from your butt, hooking behind your knee to bring your leg to his hip. Your soft gasp made him feel dizzy with lust.

It felt like he was going to eat you alive, like he would devour you. “Please,” he slowed his kisses, leaving his lips on your shoulder, “Tell me to stop.”

Sion didn’t want you to misunderstand, he really didn’t plan this, he only wanted to spend more time with you—genuinely, he just wanted you to stay for a little longer. Sex wasn’t on his mind, he was only hoping that he’d be able to weasel his way into your heart and make you love him as he did you. So he needed you to tell him to stop, to slap him and push him away. If you didn’t—if you didn’t he’d let the greed he has consume him and swallow you whole.

You shook your head, “Don’t stop.” Your breathing hallowed, “please don’t stop.” Sion paused for a moment and detached himself from you, he looked into your eyes. Searching for even the smallest amount of uncertainty, but there was none.

“Please, Sion…” You batted your eyes at him, “keep going.” It felt like the air was sucked out of his lungs. If you wanted him to keep going, he would. Sion kissed you again, this time messier than before, passionate as he slipped his tongue in your mouth.

He pulled away, making you follow his lips in an attempt to continue to heated kiss, “let’s go to my room…” He led you to his room and sat on his bed. “Come here…”

Your stomach clenched as you stood in front of him, he placed his hand on your waist and looked up at you. “Sit down.” You followed his command, sitting on his lap. Your legs were held open by his waist, your thighs on either side of him, the cool air grazing your wet core.

“Can I take this off?” You nodded and let him discarded of the towel, the only thing between your bodies now were his own clothes. “Fuck…” He kissed your shoulder and smiled against your skin, “You’re even prettier than I remembered.”

His hand cupped your breast and he dipped his head down, catching your nipple between his lips. Sion’s tongue swirls around the hardened bud, he sucks lightly on it, going much slower than last time. You sighed a soft moan, watching him with half lidded eyes. He looked up at you through his thick lashes and hummed softly against your skin.

“Wanna sit on my face?” You moaned at the thought, but shook your head.

“I wanna try something.” You pushed Sion back and he grinned, inhaling deeply as he looked up at you.

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” He clarified, “You know that, right?” You shushed him and pecked him softly on the lips.

Ever since the last time youve had this thought in the back of your mind—a thought you were ashamed of but excited by, for two weeks now all you could think of was pleasing Sion the same way he pleased you.

“Shhh.” Sion’s breathing became heavy, “Just let me.” His body surrendered to you, melting as you kisssd his neck, your lips pressing against his Adam’s Apple. His body shuddered and his hips unintentionally bucking underneath you.

“Can I?” You whispered in his ear, Sion’s brain was empty as badly as he wanted to say no he couldn’t deny you, if you wanted to—if you truly wanted to, then he would let you.

He nodded, too weak to think clearly. You grinned and placed a soft kiss on his lips, your hands slid down his chest, slipping underneath the hem of his shirt. Your fingers brushed against his lower abdomen, grazing his abs tenderly, your hips are planted on top of him. God, he was melting.

What happened to the girl who couldn’t even hold eye contact with him? The bulge in his pants twitched, he was aching to get out of his pants—anxious to touch you, but it was obvious you wanted control, so he moved at your pace. Sion let you lead, allowing your hands to roam his upper body in a painfully slow pace. You broke the kiss, pushing his shirt up, trying to get it off without his help. Sion grinned, looking up at you with his eyes half lidded and his lips wet.

“Let me help you.” He leaned up just a bit and slipped his shirt off, tossing it aside without care. This time, you were able to fully admire his body, your eyes drinking him in as you grew increasingly aroused. His perfect skin looked so appetizing.

You leaned down and kissed him, messy and impatient, not even waiting another second before shifting to his jaw. You placed hungry kisses down from his jaw to his neck, the contact of your warm lips made Sion tense. His body was on fire, his breathing was labored. Your teeth grazed his skin—the feeling driving him wild.

“Bite me…” he breathed out, desire dripping from his lips. You didn’t hesitate, you opened your mouth and lightly bit his shoulder, and then the junction of his neck and shoulder, sucking softly on his skin.

Sion moaned quietly, his eyes closed as he leaned his head back to give you full access. You were so lost in exploring his body, now you understood what he felt then. You kissed his Adam’s Apple and licked a strip up, stopping at his chin before kissing him once again. Sion wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your body against him as hard as he could, his tongue slipped in your mouth and he exhaled into your mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy…” he murmured against your lips. You couldn’t even respond, too breathless and too horny to think of anything other than touching him.

You broke away again and began kissing his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind as you went lower and lower until finally, you reached the band of his pants. Sion’s eyes widened, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you as you gawked at the bulged in his pants.

Sion could still remember your answer to his question about oral sex, you hate giving, and he didn’t need it—he wouldn’t ask you to, so as you pressed your cheek against the erection in his pants he fought against himself, struggling between stopping you and allowing you to continue.

“You—You don’t have to.” Sion could hardly speak, his throat tightened as you looked up at him. You looked so fucking good.

“I want to.” You replied, your fingers hooked into his belt loop and you lightly tugged at them. “Can I?” Sion almost exploded, his heart skipped a beat and he nodded wordlessly.

You slowly pulled his pants down, ridding him of the last bit of clothing he had on, his underwear caught underneath them. Your eyes slightly widened in anticipation, you held your breath and he held his, your palms sweating. Sion lifted his hips just a little and finally, the erection that was hidden springs out, slapping against his lower abdomen with a soft thwacking sound that makes your walls clench around nothing at all.

“F—Fuck…” Sion softly whimpers, the feeling of the cool air, the expression on your face—he might cum just from that alone.

You can’t help but stare, the tip of his cock is pink like his lips and shiny with precum, the base a similar shade to his skin with two veins that run along the sides. Youve never—ever, felt the desire to do anything for a man, let alone use your mouth to please one. But Sion—gosh, Sion made you want to do everything in your power to make him cum.

“Please…” Sion spoke softly, his voice shaky. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring, his cock throbbed as you looked up at him, his lip between his teeth in an effort not to rush you. Your eyes flickered back down to his cock as you inhaled deeply, you wanted to do this.

You carefully wrapped your hand around the base of his dick and his whole body jumped, his warm length pulsing in the palm of your hand. Carefully, you stuck your tongue out and drew a short line up from your hand to the tip of his cock. Sion wanted to cry, his breathing stuck in his throat as his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed.

You loved his reaction, so you did it again. Licking up the almost flavorless precum, swallowing it without another thought. His stomach tightened, his abdomen flexing as he gripped the sheets in an effort not to cum from just you licking him. You swiped your tongue through the slit and wrapped your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around it as he moaned quietly.

“Oh my—fuck…” Sion covered his face with his arm as he thighs trembled.

You closed your eyes and slowly took more of him in your mouth, stopping at the middle of his length when the tip hit the back of your throat. His back arched and he forced his eyes open to look at you.

“A—Are you…” His voice quivered, “are you okay?” Sion asked, you opened your eyes and looked up at him through your lashes. His dick throbbed in your mouth, stomach warm as he licked his lips and tried to help you.

“You don’t…you don’t have to try taking it all, just—just take your time. Okay?” He sat up and caressed your face, his gaze holding a tenderness that made you fall in love with the feeling of his dick on your tongue. “Don’t force yourself…”

You batted your eyes at him and slowly bobbed your head, with less in your mouth you hallowed your cheeks a bit. Sion cursed under his breath and kept his hand on your face, silently encouraging you to keep a slow pace. His head falls back and he closes his eyes, moving his hand to the top of your head so he can lightly guide you.

“Just like that…” He praised, “You’re doing so good, baby.” You reached your hand between your legs, that was exactly what you imagined when you touched yourself in the shower. Sion praising you, his words of worship ringing in your head as your finger rubbed tight circles on your clit.

“Gosh, I love you so much.” Sion looked down at you, groaning as he watched you touch yourself with your lips wrapped around his cock. “Such a good girl.”he murmured to himself, “Does it feel good?” He pushed your head down a bit quicker, still gentle but just with a bit of a faster pace.

You hummed around him, rubbing yourself faster as you closed your eyes. “Look at me, baby.” Your stomach tighten, muscles clenching as the pit of warmth in your stomach began to spill over. You pried your eyes opened and looked in his eyes. Sion stared back at you with hooded eyes, glazed over with his pupils blown wide. His face licked with heat, cheeks flushed as his soft breaths turned into moans. You placed your hand on his thigh and your brows furrowed.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” Sion looked away first, his eyes rolled back as his hips—with a mind of their own, bucked up into your mouth. You gagged and almost pulled back, but instead, you kept going, pausing for just a second to catch your breath. “So pretty…so pretty…” he muttered lowly to himself.

Sion could feel himself getting close already, he wouldn’t last much longer like this. As badly as he wanted this to last forever, he couldn’t stop himself as his orgasm approached.

“W—Wait…” his voice was so soft you could hardly hear him, “I’m so…mm’so close…haa…haaa…” Sion began to pant, at this you could feel yourself reaching that same peak—you didn’t want to stop, you wanted to go all the way—for him to cum in your mouth just like you’d imagined.

“Y—Y/N!” Sion called out your name, his abdomen tightens and he forcibly restrains himself, gripping his covers as his body jerks, his head falls back again and he cries out your name in pleasure, unintentionally cumming in your mouth. “S—Shit…” His body convulses, trembling as he breathes heavily.

With a quiet pop, you release his cock from your mouth, your cheeks full of precum, spit, and cum. Sion—still dazed, scrambles to apologize. “I—I’m so sorry!” He swallows thickly while shaking his head, “I…I didn’t mean to,” He clarified, “Here, you can—you can spit it out.” You looked up at him confused. You have zero intentions of spitting, so, you swallowed everything in your mouth and licked your lips.

Sion’s eyes widened and he looked down at you in shock, so bewildered that he couldn’t begin to form a sentence. His brain was still fried, watching you swallow his cum only turned him on more, it didn’t even take more than thirty seconds and he was hard all over again.

“Was that good?” You asked, Sion was speechless, turned on, and undeniably in love with you. Without saying anything, he pulled you up from your knees and kisssd you, slipping his tongue in your mouth as he pulled you onto his lap. The kiss was full of passion, full of love, and desire—something you couldn’t put into words.

“You were perfect.” Sion answered against your lips, “let me take care of you now, okay?” You broke the kiss and leaned back, shaking your head.

“What’s wrong?”

You licked your lips, the taste of him faint. “Can you…” You struggled to get the words out yet, Sion knew exactly what you wanted. He wouldn’t give it to you though—not until you made it clear, not until he was sure he wasn’t just imagining things.

“Can I do what?” He asked, “tell me what you want, baby.” His tone slightly teasing. You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and mustered up all the courage you had, inhaling deeply as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Can you put it inside?”

[neocharm]

A Woman's Perspective... oh!sion x asfab reader

"No, I-I never take advantage of a woman, I give women pleasure~" - Prince Neveen.

"Nothing turns me on like a woman's perspective..." -POV By DVSN

WARNING: THIS FANFIC INCLUDES THE FOLLOWING

non!idol au, slight slow burn maybe?, plot with smut, kissing, oral sex (f!r), nipple play, talk of dry humping, dry humping, reader orgasm, slight overstimulation, annoying/teasing Sion, slight enemies to lovers, L-bomb, non-established relationship, college!au, service dom!idol, non experienced!reader, experienced!idol, shy!reader, asfab!reader, fingering, talks of misogyny, talks of inequality, body worship, pleasure dom!idol, and cursing. If any of these things are triggering for you, please look away. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, GO AWAY! DO NOT INTERACT!

7.4k wc! Plus-size friendly, written with woc in mind!

“Do you like sex?”

Sion had always been curious about you, the adorable, nerdy, woman, with her cute head always stuck in between a book, eyes flickering between the words on the pages, and his face—sneaking glances as if he wouldn’t notice. During debates, you always get particularly riled up by him. He’s noticed this. Your words have a bit more bite to them, the delivery a bit more fierce, the way you speak, the gaze your eyes hold, it’s full of a burning passion. A mix of emotions you wear perfectly as you stress your side, something between hatred, disgust, understanding, and lust.

You can’t help but yell when debating him—no one else gets you that angry, yet Sion does so with ease, maybe that’s why you were assigned to be partners for an upcoming debate. The topic was ‘Feminism and Sex.’ Specifically exploring the idea that feminists have less sex, viewing the act as disgusting and degrading, while women who aren’t feminists have more and are more likely to have more partners. The topic made you roll your eyes, but Sion…oh, Sion LOVED it. And that’s why he asked with such genuine curiosity your view on sex.

“Ha…wh…why’d you ask like that?” You rolled your eyes at his question. The tone in his voice, the look in his eyes—sparkling with mischief and something else, it annoyed you; something in you hated Sion—despised him.

Sion shrugged, feigning innocence. “Like what?” He questioned. “I have to ask, how else will we come up with our point?”

He does have the right to ask, and you’re both adults, but that doesn’t make it any less difficult. In fact, knowing that you had to talk about this with him made it much, much worse.

“So…” He leaned in a bit closer, his laptop on the table in front of the two of you, his legs crossed and eyes narrowed. “Do you?”

You felt breathless. Sion is so unfortunately attractive. His big brown eyes always watch you so closely, you can always feel him looking at you. When he’s talking to his friends, you always catch him glancing at you. Every time you have the misfortune of bumping into him, he just has to touch you. You never miss the way he pretends to like adjusting your hair that he ‘ruined’ by bumping into you, or how he always lets his shoulder brush yours. Even when you have to sit beside him during your debate class—professor's choice, not yours—his leg always brushes against yours. Thighs pressed against each other as his breathing slowed, becoming shakier by the second.

“If it makes you feel better, I won’t laugh at you.” He took your silence for discomfort; you were thankful for that, but annoyed by his statement.

“Why would you?” You frowned at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Isn’t that what people do?” He asked, “Make fun of virgins?” Your eyes went wide.

A virgin?! You? Tch! Like hell, you've had a boyfriend before. Everyone knows you dated the exchange student Riku, and although it didn’t last long, both of you took the relationship seriously. How could he possibly accuse you of being a virgin?

“Who says I’m a virgin?” Sion smirked. Gosh, you hated how good a smirk looked on him, how his soft-looking, plush, and pink lips stretched just a bit. You fucking hated it.

“So, you aren’t?” He poked, “then…” He paused and leaned back against the chair, “Would you say that sex is enjoyable to you?” You inhaled, slowly filling your lungs with cool air, allowing them to fill until you felt they couldn’t anymore. You shrugged.

If you were going to pass this class, you needed to do well, so you pushed your embarrassment aside and answered honestly. “I guess so.” Sion chuckled, humored by your response.

“You guess?” You rolled your eyes. “You don’t have sex often, do you?”

“No,” you replied, “Not everyone likes to sleep with just anyone.” In your tone was that sweet venom he loved, the pleasurable bite that he craved. How could he not push your buttons a little?

“So then, do you agree that feminists dislike sex?” You jerked your head back in offense. How could he believe something like that?

“What?” You exclaimed, “Of course not!” Sion nodded.

“Because?”

“Because being a feminist doesn’t mean that I dislike sex, it means that I want to go to a car shop to get an oil change and not get overcharged. Being a feminist means that I don’t have a man talking over me because he feels his voice is more important than mine.” You explained through gritted teeth. If only you knew how much it turned him on to see you so passionate.

“I agree.” He replied calmly, but of course, his agreeing meant nothing; he was still curious, so he asked, “Then…when was the last time you had enjoyable sex?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head. The last time? Hell, if you knew, you and Riku didn’t have sex…all you did was kiss and dry hump, sure it was nice but…it wasn’t the same. Now that you think about it, you can’t recall a time when you were fully satisfied after sex, a time when you felt pleased.

Your silence amuses him; it’s clear he finds humor in this. “Are you serious?” He asked in disbelief as you sat in deep thought, “Haven't you had at least one experience?”

You nervously bit your lip and cleared your throat. Sion couldn’t believe it, truly, he was lost for words. Sure, you seem shy and innocent on the outside, like kissing might come as a challenge for you, but…surely there’s been a guy who saw through that, one who felt the same surge of excitement he did when he spoke to you. A man who felt his skin tingle at every touch, his heart race at just the sound of your voice, and his pants tighten at the mere thought of you. The only explanation he can think of is that you actually are a virgin, and you’re just too embarrassed to admit it.

“Y/N, you don’t have to lie to me…it’s okay to be a virgin.” You glared at him, but it was so soft, like the paw of a cat.

“I’m not!” You declared passionately, with a huff, you sank into your seat. Luckily, he decided it would be better to study in his apartment, and even better that you accepted it. “I just—“ You sighed, “It’s just been a long time, okay?” You looked away from him.

“But even then, did you enjoy it?” You thought this was going to be about other women, not yourself. You didn’t respond again; you were in deep thought.

‘Did I?’ You asked yourself, you can swear that you've had sex before, that you've laid in a bed with another person and felt their bare body and that they’ve felt yours, but…you can remember if it was enjoyable or not. You can’t recall if you enjoyed the sex because it was good, or because sex is supposed to be enjoyable.

The look on your face told Sion everything he needed to know. Clearly, the answer was no, but he wanted to know why and what caused it, and using this project as an excuse was a perfect way to do so.

“So, in your opinion, what part of sex is the least enjoyable for a feminist?” He asked, “Penetration, oral sex, or any form of foreplay?”

You answered with ease this time, “Oral sex.” Sion looked like his eyes were about to fall out.

“Like, as in giving?” You nodded, trying to remain professional. For some reason, this made him sigh in relief, as if he was happy to know that it wasn’t the other way around. “Then, do you like receiving?”

You knotted your eyebrows together, “Receiving?” Sion grinned. He tried hard to contain himself, but he could feel his heart beginning to beat a little faster, and his skin felt warmer.

“You know…like, being pleased?” He unintentionally licked his lips, his tongue slowly poking out before he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and looked at you. “Do you like that?”

His question made your stomach tingle, you felt sick at how ease it was for Sion to fluster you. But it felt even worse admitting that you've never been…pleased orally, by a man. His eyes felt like they were prying into you; it was too intimate and too intense.

“I’ve never…” You cleared your throat awkwardly and looked away. “I’ve never tried it before.”

“Seriously?!” Sion shook his head, laughing in disbelief as he leaned his head back and ran a hand through his healthy black locks of hair, giving you a full view of his annoyingly perfect throat, allowing you to scowl pitifully at the unmarked skin.

You didn’t get what was so funny, so you hadn’t tried some things before? And? You didn’t feel like you were missing out; it didn’t make you any different. Sure, at times you were curious—you watched porn, you saw videos of women being eaten out and wondered what it was like, but you've also heard that sometimes it’s not even good. You’d rather not gamble.

“What about fingering?” Your expression remained the same. This time, he groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Was it really that big of a deal?

“I don’t see why it bothers you so much…” You grumbled, “This isn’t about me anyway. So stop making a big deal out of it.”

Sion shook his head. He reached across the table and grabbed your hand. His palm was warm and soft, his fingers long and slender, his nails clean and clipped. You could have kicked yourself for admiring the veins in his hand that wrapped around his forearm and kept going underneath the sleeve of his jacket.

“It’s not that, I just…” he paused. How can he explain that he’s actually upset that you’ve never been properly taken care of? “Aren’t you curious?” He asked sincerely. You looked at him, his big brown eyes pierced yours with something between care and lust.

Of course, you’re curious, you want to know what it’s like, but you also feel like you aren’t missing anything—or, at least, you did before Sion’s reaction. The way he looked at you made you feel like you really were missing something, like his response was fair.

“I mean…a little, but why would I waste my time?” You tried to pull yourself together, he was asking this to make you change your mind…that’s what you told yourself.

“It’s not a waste of time to feel good,” He replied.

“Why would a man do something to make a woman feel good and ask for nothing in return?” You questioned, “Men notoriously view acts of service as transactional. I can’t imagine that a man would do that and not want something in return.”

Sion grinned, “You feeling pleasure is why.” Your breathing caught in your throat.

He can see how you couldn’t understand, acts like paying for dinner, giving flowers, buying gifts, even something simple like cleaning, have been viewed as a way to earn something as a man. But he’s not like other men; the reward for eating you out is you feeling good. That’s why he does it.

“Men who please women…” His finger traced the back of your hand, his eyes watching it as he spoke in a soft tone, “Ones like me, we do it because it makes us feel good.” He explained. “I don’t need anything in return, as long as you feel good…as long as you finish.” He paused and looked at you.

The expression on your face was so cute, your eyes that usually bore just a bit of disdain were full of desire, curiosity, and lust. If he could, Sion would take a picture just to savor how pretty you looked.

“As long as you like it, I have everything I want. There would be nothing more to ask for.”

Your body felt like it was on fire. You could feel a slickness building between your legs, the heat making you feel slightly lightheaded, your breathing was much slower, yet every exhale was cut a bit shorter. The image was in your head, Sion…Sion between your legs, his eyes peaking up at you as his lips—glossy with your love—kissed and sucked, as his tongue licked and cleaned all over your pussy. The mental image made you feel dizzy, imagining his lips clamped over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of your entrance as he grinned against your wet flesh…you felt like you were losing your mind.

You pulled your hand back and stood abruptly. “I need to use the bathroom,” Sion smirked, but he didn’t stop you. He pointed down the hall and sat back.

“Thanks…” You walked with a humiliating wobble, and your knees felt weak. What was wrong with you?

You closed the door behind you and leaned against the sink. With your eyes closed, you tried to steady your breathing. You couldn’t let Sion inside your head, no matter how good it sounded. Who cares if he gets off to pleasing women? Who cares if he’s hot and smart, good at listening, and knows that less is sometimes more? You didn’t…you tried not to. Standing in the bathroom, you gave yourself a quick pep talk. No matter what, you wouldn’t let Sion distract you; you had to reel it in and focus, or you’d be failing. So after washing your hands, you exited the bathroom with newfound, false confidence and sat down across from him. His face was flushed, his eyes were a bit low…he looked good enough to eat, but you ignored it and sighed.

“EHEM.” You pulled your laptop in front of you and tried to look unmoved again, but it was shaky. “We should probably start on our introduction now; we can work on each other’s point of view afterwards.”

Sion raised his eyebrows. You were clearly trying to ease the tension; it worked very little—hardly at all.

“Our introduction? I think we should make our introduction about the idea that feminists aren’t missing out, but are just, unfortunately, let down in the bedroom.” You stiffened a little, but nodded.

“Okay…that’s not bad.” Sion watched you, his eyes scanning you as you typed, your fingers messy over your keyboard. You were so clearly nervous.

“Maybe I should write the introduction.” He started, you looked at him—a big mistake. He looked like a snake, ready to coil around you and squeeze tight, before swallowing you whole and eating you alive.

“Why?” You asked while looking back down again.

“Because,” He sighed, “You wouldn’t know what you’re missing, you've never had it before.”

You inhaled sharply, both annoyed and intrigued. “Just because I’ve never experienced those things doesn’t mean you know better than me.” Sion pouted his lips playfully in a teasing manner.

“Of course it does.”

“How? You aren’t a woman.” You clarified.

“That’s true.” He replied, “But, you’ve never experienced anything from me before…so, therefore, you wouldn’t know what you’re missing.” You scoffed at his smugness.

“I can’t imagine that coming from you; I’m missing much.” But you were clearly lying; in fact, you imagined a whole new world of pleasure from Sion, one that makes you feel humiliated but satisfied.

“Trust me, you’re missing more than that pretty little head can imagine.”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

Sion went silent for a second. It should've comforted you—his talking was stirring up emotions in you that you felt ashamed of, but instead, this made you tense. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking; his silence felt worse than his voice, the way he looked at you, just eyeing you, eyes narrowed, cheeks kissed with redness, made you subconsciously squirm. It felt like he was unraveling you, like he could see through your perfect disguise. Only Sion could see through it, only he could stir you up like this, and he knew that, he knew that you didn’t truly believe that. Not when your eyes are burning with curiosity, he saw the way your eyes flickered down to his lips, even a blind man could see you wanted him.

“You really think that?” Sion smirked. Your hands began to sweat, his tone was so soft, almost like he was hurt but…enjoying it.

Your words caught in your throat, making you stutter, “Y—Yeah, of course I do…”

Sion turned his eyebrows upward, pouting a bit as he licked his lips and pulled his bottom one inward. “Really?” His voice became breathy, so passionate, tone dripping with just barely contained lust. “Why?”

You had to look away from him, it was killing you. He’s so painfully attractive, you can’t stop the honest words from leaving your mouth if you tried, “Because I hate you.” It looked like that only turned him on more. You hate him?

He asked again, “Why?” And your brain began ticking off reasons.

He’s annoyingly charming, he’s so good at everything he touches that it feels unfair, he’s dripping in sex appeal, he’s good at talking to women, he doesn’t talk over you, he respect what you say despite intentionally pissing you off. Sion is intelligent, he’s mature, responsible, and when he walks in a room he screams leader. Everyone wants him—it’s fucking annoying.

“Because…” You drew out a long deep breath, and he finished your sentence for you.

“Because you want me?” He taunted, “because you hate how much I turn you on? Because I distract you? Because I always know what you’re thinking?”

He was completely correct, you inhaled and leaned your head back, blinking your eyes to shoo away the image of him in your head as you chewed at your bottom lip anxiously.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You didn’t respond, it felt like you didn’t have to. He knew already, why did he want you to say it? “C’mon…” He teased, his voice almost desperate in a way. “Tell me, you want me, don’t you?”

You looked at him, your throat felt tight, your body hot to the touch and your mind plagued with the thought of him. He looked so smug, so confident and self assured, you hated how he knew what he did to you. It made you sick, but…he’s right, you want him—no, no, you need him. In the most carnal, most primal, instinctively way possible. You need Sion, and that kills you.

“Why are you like this?” You asked, growing annoyed by your almost uncontrollable desire for him.

Your tone intrigued him, he leaned closer and raised his eyebrows. “Like what?” You groaned. He’s so fucking annoying, he knows what you mean. You swear he does.

“Like—Like that!” You spat out, your growing frustrations makes him struggle not to laugh. “Always…always making fun of me, intentionally making things hard for me!” You explained.

“You’re always looking at me like that, like I’m easy. Like you want me to beg for you to touch me. I hate it, I hate you.” Sion lowered his head, your passionate admission made his body shudder. At first, you thought the slight tremor in his body was crying, you felt bad.

You didn’t mean to hurt him, you just can’t stand how badly you like him, and he makes it no better by provoking you. His breathing became heavy, his body shaking more. Your gaze softened and your stomach clenched from an emotion that felt bitter—remorse.

“Sion…I…” You reached out and placed your hand on his as it rested on the table, clenched into a tight fist. “I didn’t mean it like that…” Your throat felt tight, you really didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“I don’t hate you.” You admitted, “I mean, you piss me off but—but I…” You choked on your words, your stomach was tied in knots, clearly you misunderstood him.

“I…like…you…” The words left a tingly sensation in your mouth, you never thought you’d say those words to him, you never thought that he was actually so sensitive. But here you are, your words hanging in the air as you hoped that comforted him.

“You…” Sion raised his head, you were expecting to see tears, to see those long lashes clumpy and wet, his flushed face freshly wet with tears. But instead, he was grinning like crazy. Just barely holding back a laugh. “You like me?”

Your heart fell to your stomach. “Really?” He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip, “I always knew you did.” You were lost for words, you felt like the wind had be kicked from your lungs. Of all the things he’s done, all the cruel jokes he’s made—this, this is by far the worst.

Enraged you stood up, knocking the chair back as you glared at him with your fists balled up tightly at your sides. You couldn’t even speak, you were so angry that tears began to wail in your eyes, not even words could express the anger you felt. Sion was caught off guard by this, clearly, he wasn’t expecting you to get upset.

“Y/N…” He called your name but you turned away from him coldly, storming out of his kitchen and into the living room. He tailed behind you, calling your name in desperation. “Y/N, please!” But his tone still carried that same amusement.

“Y/N, wait.” As you approached the front door he grabbed your arm and spun you around, holding both your arms tightly in his hands as he looked you in your eyes with sincerity.

“I’m sorry.” You glared at him and tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Let me go!” You demanded, “I hate you!” Sion pouted and hugged you tightly, letting you slap your hands against his back as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

You wanted to kick yourself for getting butterflies. “I wasn’t laughing at you,” He started to explain, “I like you too. I was just surprised.” You froze, and he used this to his advantage.

Sion let go of you and slid his hands from your arms to your hands, looking down as he held back a grin. “I promise to be serious from now on,” he said, “So please don’t leave.”

You had a faint taste on the back of your tongue, like he was up to no good—not lying—but not being completely truthful either, likely about being serious. It made you hesitant, but you caved, how could you not?

“Fine.” He led you back to the kitchen and picked up your chair, letting you sit first before he did himself. For a moment things were quiet, you typed on your computer, he watched you, just like usual. Sion was the first to break the slightly tensed silence.

“So…you do you really think I wouldn’t be able to satisfy you then?” Your fingers paused above the keys, hovering there was his question registered in your head.

“Huh?” You looked up from the screen and almost moaned out loud at how he looked at you, so genuine, passionate, and gentle. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was guiding you in the conversation.

“You know, receiving. You said that you felt like you weren’t missing much, coming from me.” He let the words settle for a moment before continuing, “Did you mean that?”

You looked off to the side of him, thinking deeply for a second. Of course you didn’t, but you didn’t want to admit that, telling him you liked him was already enough, telling him that you imagined that his touch would feel like Heaven, would actually kill you.

“I won’t laugh.” He clarified, “I just wanna know.” You looked at him again, the tension rising slowly.

Suddenly, your conflicted emotions began to fade. Disagreeing would give you the same results, bickering, teasing, and then back to work, so you wondered…what would agreeing mean? That was enough for you to reply honestly.

“No…” You were so nervous, “I didn’t.” Hands trembling with both excitement and anxiety.

Sion’s eyes lit up, the fire in them burning a billion times brighter than before, it looked like the light bulb in his head was brighter than ever before as his grin fell.

“Then, do you wanna experience it?” You laughed in disbelief, no way he was asking what you were thinking—simply unbelievable.

“What are you trying to say?” For once he looked nervous, like his perfect facade was finally slipping. Yet, his tone remained the same as he spoke.

“Can I eat you out?” Your stomach clenched in pleasure, the sudden sensation made your breathing hitch in your throat. You couldn’t believe your ears. “You can say no. I won’t get upset, I promise.”

You shook your head, “You don’t want to?” He asked, you shook your head again, confusing him.

“It’s not that…it’s just—“ You felt breathless, “What do you get out of it?”

Sion laughed a little. “I already told you.” He tilted his head and fluttered his big brown eyes, “Giving a woman pleasure is all I want in return, especially if it’s you.”

You pressed your thighs together and squeezed tightly. “So, if I say yes…” He grinned.

“Then I promise, I’ll make you feel good.” He narrowed his eyes at you, “Don’t you want to feel good, Y/N?”

You nodded and he chuckled, “Let’s go to my room.” He stood first, walked around the table and extended his hand to you. With a shyness he found enduring, you placed your hand in his and stood up, allowing him to lead you to his bedroom.

His room was nicely cleaned, it smelt of fresh laundry, and scented candles, the light from outside blocked by black curtains and replaced with an artificial purplish, red light, CD’s and records organized neatly on his desk beside his PC, with adorable green plushies in the shape of stars on his bed. You inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent, your hand clammy in his.

“Are you sure you want this?” He turned to you and asked. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” For once, there was no humor in his tone, just genuine love. It felt warm…it felt comforting.

If there was anything you were ever sure of, it was this, no matter how nervous, or how anxious, you wanted this, specifically from Sion. Nothing could change your mind, at the end of the day your feelings for Sion aren’t nearly as simple as hating him, nor as easy as liking him—not even close, the wide arrangement of emotions are something inexplicable. So you nodded your head.

“I’m sure.” You breathed out, “I…I want it.” You looked into his eyes and your whole body lit up with excitement, “I want you.” Sion let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding, there was nothing left for him to say—not that he could think of anything to begin with, so he pulled you close, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you on the lips.

His hands were trembling, like he was dying for this. His soft lips pressed against yours and moved slowly, kissing you passionately and gently like he was just testing the waters. Your knees buckled just a little, and you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you closed your eyes, both of you melting into the soft kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth with ease, making you unintentionally moan into his mouth, you could feel him grinning in the kiss.

His hands slipped away from your face and to the button on your pants, you didn’t think of stopping him as he unfastened your pants, slowly unzipping them before hooking his thumbs into the waist of your pants. With care he pushed them down to your knees, letting you remove them completely, leaving you in just your underwear and shirt.

“Cute…” He pulled away for a moment and kissed your eyelids, “lay on the bed for me.” You opened your eyes and nervously walked to his bed, you sat down and looked up at him as he grinned.

“You’re so pretty.” He got on his knees in front of you and pressed a light kiss to your knee, “I’ve liked you for so long.” He kissed a little lower this time. “I was so happy when you and Riku broke up…” He looked at you through his lashes and pushed your thighs apart.

“Does that make me a bad friend?” You shook your head, it wasn’t like you were thinking much about it anyway, Sion could tell. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this…” He kissed your inner thigh and you held your breath. His lips left tingles, fire blooming as he lovingly worshiped your legs.

On his knees he reached his hand up and wrapped it around the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he could kiss you again. “I’ve waited so long.” He muttered against your lips, “I just wanna make you feel good.”

Your leg twitched, subconsciously you spread your legs just a bit more, pulling him closer as he slowly stood without breaking the kiss. When he reached your eye level, he mounted you, leading you to lie on your back. Sion placed his hand on your waist, and pushed it up against your side, his long, warm fingers inching closer and closer to your breast.

This was exactly how he imagined it, you lying on his bed, hot with want, your shirt bunched up, pants discarded, with your fingers threaded in his hair as you kissed him with unadulterated desire. Sion felt like was going insane when you sighed a soft moan into his mouth, his fingers slipping under your bra as he rolled his eyes and pressed his knee between your legs. With his tongue in your mouth he groped your breast, lightly kneading your soft mound as he is tongue fought for dominance in your mouth—of course, you let him have it. The sound of heavy breathing and wet kissing filled the room.

“Gosh, you’re just so damn pretty.” He broke the kiss and began kissing your jaw, placing open mouthed kisses all over your neck and jaw. “I like you so much, Y/N.” He murmured in between kisses.

“You like me too, right?” You nodded, your eyes shut and lips parted.

The pressure of his thigh against your clothed pussy made your brain short circuit. This felt different from dry humping with Riku—much different—this felt more intense, this felt hotter, more passionate. Less like testing the waters and more like being deep in the ocean. You loved it.

“Can I take this off?” Sion looked down at you, his chest swelling with warmth as he bit his lip. He had hardly gotten started, and you already looked like you were falling apart.

You opened your eyes and your breathing stopped at the sight of him. The same Oh Sion you rolled your eyes at, snuck glances at, and fought not to curse out, was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. That same Sion was looking at you, his lips wet and pupils blown wide from the endorphins released in his brain. For the first time you genuinely understood what other women felt when they said they wanted to sit on a man’s face.

You nodded anxiously, not caring what he removed, as long as he touched you. Sion chuckled softly and bunched your shirt up, slowly pulling it until you lifted your arms and allowed him to remove it completely. He gawked at you for a moment before diving right back into kissing your body. His tongue traced over the spots he playfully bit and sucked, wetting your shoulders, neck, and collars with hungry kisses. The whole time he kept his leg completely still between your legs, pressed right against you as you grew increasingly impatient and wet.

“Sion, please.” You breathed out, he peaked his head up. His tongue was slowly licking the space between your breasts, still covered by your bra. He was doing it on purpose.

“Please?” He dipped his head and kissed the valley between your breasts, “You don’t have to beg, baby.” He kissed over to the right side and finally slid his hand under your bra again. “I’ll make you feel good, promise…”

After what felt like forever, he moved to rid you of your bra. His other hand slid under your back and he unclasped it in the blink of an eye, helping you slide it off. He placed it beside you and groaned quietly. His jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Wh—What’s wrong?” You moved your hands to cover your body again, his reaction worried you. But he moved them.

“You’re just so perfect.” He leaned down and gently groped your left side, “it’s hard to control myself.”

You gasped when he suddenly latched his mouth onto your nipple, his tongue flicking the hardened bud and swirling it around, while his fingers gently pinched and flicked the other, rolling it around between his index finger and thumb. You tried to close your legs—just to get a bit more friction, but his thigh stopped you, and finally, just like he’d been wanting, you rolled your hips against his thigh. You could feel him grin against your skin the moment your hips began to move.

“Ah…Sion…” He hummed softly, switching to the other side to give it the same tender treatment.

He closed his eyes and lightly bit your nipple, so softly it made you shiver and gasp. His teeth grazed the sensitive nub while his fingers relentlessly teased the other, and your hips moved feverishly against his thigh. The wet spot on his pants growing with every movement, the tension was so thick you could feel it weighing you down, his room grew hotter—sweat starting to form on your skin, he gladly licked it up.

“Do you like that?” He lifted his head, you looked so dazed—so pretty, Sion couldn’t help but smile.

You hummed softly, “mhm…feels good…” He pressed his thigh harder against your pussy and kissed you again.

This time it was much more sloppy, rougher, lustful, and rushed. His tongue was in your mouth right away, your teeth clumsily bump, tongues rolling around one another in pure sin. He pulled away and kissed the spot under your ear, as you moaned and your hips shuddered he smirked. Grabbing your hips he guided you to help you keep going, watching between your bodies with his lips parted and his eyebrows knotted. You could feel the depth of your stomach beginning to tighten, the tingling intensified and your clit began to feel like it was buzzing. Your whole body was trembling from pleasure. You were so close, so embarrassingly close to cumming just from humping his thigh.

“You’re so hot…” He held your face with one hand, keeping the other on your hip, “You wanna cum like this?” “Hm?” He taunted.

You shook your head, but whimpered and continued to move, you didn’t want to finish so quickly, you wanted to feel his lips and his tongue on your cunt, you wanted to feel his fingers inside of you. Fuck, you wanted him to eat you out so bad, but you just couldn’t stop.

“It’s okay…” Sion comforted and encouraged you in a hushed voice, “you can cum like this, I’ll make sure you get everything you want.” He leaned down and kissed the shell of your ear, and whispered, “cum for me.”

You didn’t know what came over you, a flash of pleasure, your body jerked, your legs stiffened, toes curled as your hands latched onto his shirt and fisted it tightly. An orgasm ripped through your body, shaking you until your body was weak and your panties were soaked. In broken moans you whined his name, your eyes screwed shut as he softly cooed in your ear in between soft kisses against your skin.

“Good girl, you did such a good job.” His words made your mind feel like mush. After giving you a moment to come down from your high, he gently kissed you on the lips and looked down at you.

With a shy, tired smile you looked up at him with hooded eyes, desire still deep within them, it was clear you still wanted more, but it became even more apparent when you slide your hand under his shirt. Sion gasped softly, caught off guard by the sudden contact.

“Did it feel good?” He asked breathlessly, you nodded.

“Mmh…want more.” You replied in a dazed tone. Sion grinned and sat on his knees again.

He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, “Don’t worry,” he guided you further onto the bed and finally moved between your legs. His head right between your thighs as he looked up at you. “I told you, I just wanna make you feel good.”

You held your shaky breath as he hooked his fingers underneath the band of your panties, in a slow, teasing motion, he pulled them down to your ankles, breathing heavily as he pulled them off completely. Sion looked between your legs as if he’d seen one of the seven wonders of the world, like he’d stumbled upon beauty itself. His mouth watered, his pants—which were already tight—grew painfully uncomfortable, his heart pounded.

Your voice dragged him out of his deep thoughts and admiring state, “Stop staring like that…” You turned your head away from him feeling a bit embarrassed despite the buzzing feeling inside of you.

“Sorry I—I can’t help it.” He shook his head and brought your panties up to his nose, inhaling your scent deeply and moaning softly into the messy fabric. “You’re just so damn perfect.” Just like your bra, he handles your panties with care, stuffing them into the pocket of his pants before kissing your ankle.

“I can’t stop thinking I’ll wake up and…” He held your thigh beside his head and kissed the soft flesh with love, “And you’ll be gone.” He closed his eyes and licked a strip up to your calf, savoring the taste of your skin on his tongue.

“I just love you so much.” The words slipped out of mouth so naturally, it felt true, like Sion really did love you, but you felt it even more when he pushed your legs back just a little and held them open with his hands, you could see it in his eyes when he looked up at you and kissed the mound of flesh just above the hood of your clit. You stiffened as he licked your outer labia, breathing caught in your lungs.

He teased you for a moment, cleaning the mess you made just moments ago with his tongue, moaning at the taste of you as if you were his favorite food. You leaned your head back and looked up at the ceiling, not one thought could form in your head before they were silenced again by the feeling of Sion’s tongue, and when he suddenly kissed your clit your head felt completely empty. He stuck his tongue out and licked a slow strip up from your entrance—watching the love dripping from you—to your clit again, he repeated this a few times, allowing you to settle into the feeling before moving on.

He opened his eyes and watched your chest rise and fall, his tongue sliding into your entrance with ease, licking at your walls with a skillful motion, he could feel them tremble, he could hear in your voice how good you felt. That alone made him swell with pride. Sion licked from your hole to your clit again, this time he circled his tongue around the sensitive bud, teasing you before softly wrapping his lips around the cluster of nerves and lightly sucking. Slowly, he released it and lapped up your juices, licking you clean like you were his last meal, like he’d been starving.

Your back arched off the bed, your legs threatened to shut around his head as your toes curled, this was a pleasure you’d never imagined before, not even your dreams could compare. You reached your hand between your legs and threaded your fingers in his hair, lightly pulling him closer. Sion smirked against your flesh and latched his mouth to your clit, his jaw clenched as his tongue worked against your clit.

“So—So good…” Your voice was breathy and weak, you could hardly keep your eyes open. “Feel—Feels so…so good…” Your body melted into his bed, one hand gripping the sheets as the other gripped his hair.

Your angelic cries of pleasure only fueled him, Sion was determined to eat you out until his jaw locked, until his tongue cramped. He pulled away for just a moment and brushed his finger against your throbbing nub, making your whole body jerk. Your eyes flew open and you looked down at him, the new sensation making you jolt.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He said, “Don’t look away.”

He collected the wetness on his middle finger and lowered it to your entrance, watching you the entire time as if he didn’t need to look at what he was doing, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. When he finger pressed against you, you bit your lip, your walls clenching around nothing at all. You struggled to keep your eyes opened, you wanted to close them, the eyes contact was too intense, you were far too aware of what was happening and the emotions you both were feeling.

His finger slowly entered you, he slid it in until it was knuckle deep and his others were pressed against your flesh. Sion let you adjust to the feeling before moving again, allowing your body to relax before he curled it upward and attached his mouth back to your clit again, never once looking away. You tried to do the same, but your head lolled back, your eyes fluttered closed and rolled, it felt so fucking good.

“Look at me.” He murmured against your flesh, “please.” You whimpered, and pried your eyes opened, forcing your head up so you could watch him.

Sion looked so pretty like this, his face flushed, hair jostled, and eyes hooded. Your eyes became glossy as you watched him, nothing but the thought of him in your mind. His hand rocked slowly back and forth, creating pressure inside of you as his tongue massaged your clit. Your body was almost aching with pleasure, vision blurry as your head threatened to fall back again. This was what Sion wanted to see, the fight between the pleasure he was giving you, and doing what he told you. Ultimately, the pleasure won, making your head fall back and your eyes close tightly as your legs shook beside his head. The moment you did, he slipped his ring finger inside, rocking a bit faster to create pressure in an area right underneath your clit.

You felt like you’d explode, the knot in your stomach tightened, your breathing was uneven and loud, the only thing you could manage to say was his name and pleas, your eyes watered and you pushed against his head, feeling like you were going to snap in half. Just like before your orgasm was quickly approaching, youve never came this fast—nor has it ever felt this intense. Your body felt like it was being ripped apart, like it was being kissed all over, it was like an electric shock that you loved.

Sion reached his other hand up, holding the hand that was pushing against his head and intertwining his fingers with yours, keeping it from pushing him away.

“Ah—Sion…I—I’m gonna…mhm—gonna cum!” You warned, you didn’t know if you wanted him to stop or keep going, the feeling was overstimulating in the best way possible.

He didn’t stop, not even for a second did Sion pull away. He kept going until finally the knot in your stomach came undone, until your body snapped and he felt your walls tighten and convulsing around his fingers. He kept going until he felt your clit soften under his tongue and your pretty moans turned into whimpers from overstimulation.

“I—I can’t—“ You squeezed your legs tightly, but his body kept them open just long enough for him to remove his fingers and clean every drop of you with his tongue. When he finished, he sucked his fingers clean and smiled at you as you lie breathless and weak on his bed, naked and beautiful.

“So,” He started, “Did I make you feel good?”

[solkwan]

⋆˚✮ ｡ DO NOT CALL ME BRO.

pairing: nct wish (hyung line) x afab!reader

summary: accidentally sending them a nude

a/n: afab reader bcs i am afab and idk how to write for anything not. also it's a little long, so beware! my iphone almost blew up uploading this

disclaimer: mature themes, minors DNI, nipple piercings in riku’s rxn oops

[springseasonie]

A favor Pt. 2 (OSO) (M)

Inexperienced fem reader x Sion

Part 1.

Summary: What you thought could turn back into a normal night with Sion turns out checking another first off your list.

Warning: sexual content, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, friends to lovers, Sion is def a service dom, nexflix and chill literally

Word count: 3,8k

A/N: really glad yalling liked the first one. Hopefully I don't disappoint with this. There might be a third part if y'all are really fucking with it 🫶🏾🫶🏾

Knees hugged to your chest, you stare at the TV on his couch too scared to even look in his direction. Something in you is still uncomfortable, holding you back after already letting him kiss and feel you and you don't know what it is. Maybe it's because you're starting to feel embarrassed for practically begging him. Maybe it's the way he became so quiet after touching you, allowing you to spiral all within the past 3 hours in his house.

Now you're watching a movie after he made you food. It was awkward for you to sit there and eat like normal in his house after you did what you did, especially with him staring at you.

Sion sits next to you on the couch, legs spread as he props his head on his arm that rests on the arm of the couch. He stares at the screen, barely paying attention to the film. He notices how you immediately distanced yourself, but that draws him in more. He can't help that he's attracted to you, but he can control it, not for long though.

Sion turns his head looking at you for a moment. All he can think about is getting on top of you and showing you a real good time. He wants to show you and teach you things about yourself that only he can bring out of you. It was a miracle you actually took him up on his offer, because otherwise, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

“Y/N," he says.

His voice startles you, taking you out the screen. You look over, his eyes staring into your soul. It's the same look he gave you moments prior, like he was ready to eat you, but he sat there still waiting for you to respond.

"Hm,” you answer, unconsciously gulping.

" Are you really enjoying this movie,” he questions, a smirk appearing on his face.

You could sense his energy beginning to shift, the safety you felt in one corner of his couch beginning to slip away. "Y-yeah, it's pretty alright,” you say. You're tugging at the fabric of the sweats he let you borrow for the night. To you it's just a nervous fidget, but he can't stop looking at your fingers, wondering how it would feel if you tugged his hair nice and hard, or how pretty they would look around his hard cock.

He keeps staring at you, and you're doing everything in your power to not look his way, but he's so magnetic. You turn your head slightly only to be met with the strongest eye contact you've ever received in your life. Making the mistake of trailing your eyes a bit further, you see he's half hard in his sweats. The sight makes your hairs stand up, feeling like a baby giraffe that accidentally wandered into the lion's den.

Quickly you look away from him, not seeing the man next to you begin to grin. Your eyes are glued to the LED screen in front of you and that's when the TV starts showing a scene neither one of you should be seeing. The man and woman on the scene begin kissing each other. Fingers roaming, hands grabbing, the passion flowing in the movie is starting to reach you. You watch as the male actor starts to trail his hands between the female actor's legs, lips attached to her neck. You can't help but wonder how that would feel. How would it feel if Sion had you on his counter, kissing your neck, hands in your pants fingering you like no tomorrow?

Sion notices how glued your attention is to the screen. The grip on your pants is beginning to loosen the more you watch. He can see how big your pupils get when the woman on the screen begins to moan. You watched them carefully, following the man's movements as he pulled her off the counter, falling to his knees directly after and tugging her pants down. Sion can't seem to rip his attention from how wide eyed and curious you look. He can tell you like what you see, how you wonder how good it would feel.

“You wanna try," he says, staring at you with heavy lids.

His voice startles you, making you jump. Your head whips to him, eyes wide as you start to realize he's been watching you the whole time. “W-what? No!"

“You look like you wanna try," he says softly. “Do you?"

Your hands start to fidget with your pants again, the anxiety starting to set in. You do want to try. You want to try really bad, but every excuse you made hours prior is starting to rush into your head again. It shouldn't matter because he already touched you, but his head between your legs is different than just his hands.

You didn't speak, just nodded. You expected him to get up and pull you like the man in the movie, but he stays seated still staring at you.

"What made you curious,” he asked.

Your eyes trail to his lap again, his cock fully hard under his sweats open for you to see. You gulp, looking back at him without answering his question. Sion chuckles softly at your alarmed look, finding amusement in your withdrawn disposition.

"Don't laugh at me,” you say, voice quiet.

"I'm not laughing at you. I just want to know,” he says, trying to reassure you.

"I just… it's one of those things in the books that people say is so good… I'm just curious that's all,” you say, turning your face from him. "My other friends say most guys are bad at it, so I don't know…”

"Well they haven't been with me,” he says, voice dripping with cockiness.

You turn to him, completely tuning out whatever is happening on the TV. You're doe eyed, practically begging him to come to you, and he does. Sion scoots closer to you, his black tank top riding up his waist as he moves. He's close to your face, staring at your lips, but he doesn't move, he just sits there teasing you with the proximity. He loves watching you squirm, making you unbearably uncomfortable, but something is different now. You're not looking at him like you want him back at the end of the couch. You're looking at him like you want him to kiss you in the best way possible, and who is he to deny that silent request?

Sion cups your face, other hand sneaking behind you onto your waist. He locks his lips with yours just as slow as he did the first time earlier that night. The soft kisses soon turned to open mouths, hot kisses with the man in front of you unable to control himself. He doesn't waste time with you, immediately sticking his tongue in your mouth, but you don't shy away like you did last time. Instead, the energy is reciprocated with you biting his lip softly.

You find yourself opening up to him, legs dropping as you turn your body to face him more. The hand that's on your lower back sneaks to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his hands. Your lips are still attached to his, hands on his chest grabbing at his shirt. Sion gradually ends up on top of you, knee between your legs nudging against your sensitive heat. He kisses your neck, the feeling making your brows knit.

His hands naturally pull up your shirt, groping you roughly. It was out of your comfort zone, so you jumped when he touched you. Sion almost forgot that you've never done this before, he just wants you. “I'm sorry, I got too excited.”

you nodded, attention immediately being averted as you watched him pull off his shirt. The flame in your belly grew bigger. You've seen him with his shirt off countless times, but in this lighting, the movie playing in the background, with him on top of you, was very different. His expression was full of desire and lust, it almost scared you,, but your desire for him was scarier. You don't think you'll be able to control yourself in the future if you go further with him, but you want to go further. you want to lose control.

Sion lifts himself off your body, gazing at you with faded eyes. With a lip between his lips he gets off the couch, instantly kneeling in front of you. He grabs you, turning you to face him. You gulp, not knowing how to respond to the man handling. Your heart is beating out of your chest, this visual of him on his knees in front of you sending you into a spiral. As embarrassing as it is, you've thought about this before, imagining him between your legs on a bed or maybe against a wall as he's balancing you with his big strong hands. It was never intentional, maybe just an intrusive thought you've had once or twice. But you've never thought of this before, Sion on knees for you, looking up at you with those big brown eyes, giving you a look that could kill.

“I have a confession,” he says, a deep voice breaking to silence between you both. His hands gently grab onto your legs, rubbing them up to your thighs. He gently squeezes them, pressing his thumb into your flesh a bit more.

“What,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Ive always been into you.” Sion’s hands move to the waist of the sweats. He dips his fingers into the clothes, watching as you lift your hips. He likes the boldness in your movements, the girl who was unsure minutes ago now knows what she wants, and he finds it sexy. Sion loves how shy you are, but there's nothing more sexy than watching you do something with confidence. “I’m so attracted to you, you have no idea.” he pulls the sweats off of you, your panties following in one motion.

You're frozen in place, his lack of hesitance continuing to surprise you even though you shouldn't be. He's staying at the spot between your legs, the emotion on his face making you want to crawl into a hole, but you want to crawl into him too. Sion doesn't automatically devour you like they do in the books and movies. He's slow and intentional with his approach, taking one of your legs and kissing down the limb slow. he maintains eye contact, never pulling his attention from you for anything. He loves your eyes, the way you're so unintentionally doe eyed as you watch him, making him smirk as he places your leg on his shoulder.

“You're so pretty Y/N,” he whispers between your legs, face close to your soaked pussy. Sion knows how to get a girl ticking, and one of his ways to do so is by kissing her inner thigh, sucking on the skin, like he's doing at this very moment. You can barely think straight, stomach in knots and head jumbled with incoherent thoughts. “Say it.”

“S-say what?”

“Say that you're pretty baby,” he repeats.

“I-I..” You try to speak but your mouth waters when you feel him leave a wet kiss on your opposite thigh, hands squeezing your leg soft. “I'm pretty..”

“Good girl,” he whispers into your leg.

“Sion?"

"Hm?” His tone is velvety, raspy just how you like it.

“My friends tell me not every guy does this," you say, unable to look away from him. “Do you.. do this with every girl you're with?" Your hesitance makes his heart ache. You're too cute for your own good, it turns him on so much.

"Only girls that I like,” he answers softly, clicking his tongue. Sion decides he's had enough teasing you as kisses your clit softly. Your body jolts in response due to the unfamiliar feeling. He places another kiss on the sensitive area, tongue licking your heat. Your body shivers, brows scrunching as you process the sensation between your legs. Sion's eye contact remains strong as he licks your pussy, the muscle thick and warm against you. He starts to flick his tongue on your clit, giving you the most eye rolling stimulation you've received in your life. A soft moan escapes your lips followed by the slight curl of your toes not going unnoticed by the man below you. He continues moving his tongue against you, hands gripping your legs tight. Sion wraps his lips around the bud, sucking it softly. You're whimpering and squirming in the seat just how he likes.

“You like it?” Sion swirls his tongue around the bud, the visual lighting another spark in you.

“Mhm,” you moan. “I like it so, so much."

He doesn't slow down, tongue licking you all over just to taste you. You're tugging on the fabric of his couch, nails sinking in. He watches you trying to find something to pull, to tug.

"You can touch me baby,” he says. His face is wet, glistening in the low light of the living room. "Pull my hair."

And so you did without being told twice. Sion got right back to eating you out with your fingers tangled in his locks. Your nails scratched him just right, every tug making him feel like he was doing something right. Your nails scratched his scalp in the most perfect way possible, with every lick and suck you tugged, making him harder and harder under his pants. He could feel himself pulsing, precum leaking so good his boxers were wet.

Your face is twisted in pleasure, eyes closed and head tossed back as he keeps his rhythm. That's when you feel him speed up a bit, your head falls back down, eyes looking at him with your jaw dropped.

“S-sion, I'm gonna cum," you whimper. He keeps licking you, nose bumping your sensitive clit with every movement of his pretty head.

“Not yet baby," he says, removing himself from your cunt. “Want you to cum on my fingers."

Sion pulls a hand off your body, two fingers instantly ending up between your legs. You look at his calloused hands instantly feeling yourself get even more turned on by him. Sion sticks his tongue out, letting the spit drip on your entrance, making the messy scene a bit more messy. He takes his fingers gently rubbing the area.

"Can you take two,” he asked, voice raspy.

"I-i don't know," you say. Your mind is jumbled, pleasure still running through your veins as he tries to speak to you in a way that makes sense, but nothing is making sense, not when he's about to make you cum hard. “Just touch me, please."

Sion sticks those two same fingers in his mouth, coating them in his saliva before putting them back between your legs. He can feel your foot arch and toes curl as he presses those fingers against your pussy, pushing them in slowly allowing you to stretch around the two digits. Your body tenses, eyes screwing shut when you feel the unfamiliar pressure. It doesn't hurt, but it does feel a bit uncomfortable.

"You're so cute,” he mumbles. "Wanna see you on my dick just like this. You want that?" Sion pumps his fingers in your agonizing slow, pulling moans and whimpers out your body.

“Yes, yes. Fuck," you whine.

Your face was twisted in pleasure, lip between your teeth, pupils blown wide. Your body was on fire, the sheer feeling of his fingers being almost too much for you, but Sion won't let the fun end too fast. He attaches his mouth to your clit, tongue flicking it so fast you couldn't keep your moans down. He's enjoying watching you get off so much, he needs to feel something. Sion starts to grind on the couch, the friction clouding his head even more.

The filthy sounds falling out your mouth, the sucking and slurping sounds coming from below you, you like it all too much. You like the way he looks up at you when you tug his hair a bit too hard, the way he talks to you, makes sure you're liking what he's doing. His free hand reaches up to your thigh, traveling to your ass just to squeeze.

“Fuck, keep moving. Just like that princess," he groans, watching you grind on his fingers. You didn't even know you were moving, all you knew was that you were close and wanted to cum soon.

"Sion, I'm gonna cum,” you whimper, throwing your head back on the couch.

“Yeah? You're gonna cum on my fingers?" He pounds his fingers in you faster, still grinding on the couch. His boxers are all sticky from the amount of precum dripping into them. “I know you can do it. Keep going, baby. Cum in my mouth."

You feel your body starting to tense the second Sion wraps his plump lips on your clit, sucking it so hard you eyes roll back. That's when you feel your legs begin to tremble, toes curling almost instantly. You feel yourself release around his fingers, walls fluttering around the thick long digits. You try to catch your breath when he slows down, but his lips don't leave your body.

“S-sion I can't take it," your moan, hand still gripping his hair. He stares at you with no intention of coming back up. His tongue keeps moving, face wet covered in your arousal. You nearly cry when you feel him begin to pump his fingers in you once again, the overstimulation making your heartbeat soar.

"I can't help myself,” he mumbles, words muffled against your skin. "So pretty baby. Taste so good...” His tongue laps up any bit of cum that's still left, his groans traveling through your body like an electric shock. He finds himself burying his face between your legs, drinking up everything you have to give him in an instant. His nose keeps nudging your poor sensitive clit, the constant stimulation making you tremble and cry out his name over and over.

"Oh, fuck, I'm cumming Sion,” you whimper. "Oh my God, fuck..”

Sion finger fucked you through your third orgasm of the day, your loud moans sounding like music to his ears. Slowly, he pulled his fingers out of you, finally pulling away from your soaked pussy giving the spot between your legs a soft kiss. Sitting up, he can finally see you properly. You're beautiful like this. Sweaty, messy, eyes dropping, completely dazed. He could never imagine you looking so fucked out, but here you are, the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

While he's admiring you, you can hardly form a coherent thought. Your body is trying to recover from the most intense sexual encounter you've had in your life but you don't think it will. You can hardly move, the keg that's still on his shoulder refused to move by itself. You can barely feel your hands, not even knowing that he pulls your fingers from your hair.

“You did so good pretty," he whispers, kissing your leg softly. Sion pulls your leg off his shoulder gently, crawling back into the couch with you.

This is when you're reminded of the predicament you got yourself into. You can feel the cold air hitting your insides, jolting you right back to reality. Slowly you begin to close your legs, eyes darting around the room looking for your missing pants. That's when you catch wind of the TV. Are you still there?

“Holy fuck," you mumble, letting your head fall back, facing the ceiling. “That was.."

“Fun? Good?"

You look over to Sion who's practically beaming at you. His eyes are sparkly, a sense of euphoria has washed over him in a way you can't explain.

"How was I,” he asked, leaning into you more. His face is still moist from eating you out, the visual turning you on again.

"You were…” you pause, starting to feel slightly embarrassed for being the one to praise him. "It was good."

He chuckles softly, kissing you deep enough to taste yourself on your tongue. “You did so good," he says on your lips. Sion snakes a hand on your naked waist, pulling your body to him. He smirks when you kiss him, hands pressed against his naked chest.

Everything felt comfortable and normal between you both, but definitely not platonic anymore. The compliments, praises, even the way he gave himself to you was romantic, or maybe it was because you're mistaking physical intimacy with love. Regardless, you can tell things aren't going to go back to normal like you hoped.

"You sound unsure,” he laughs. "I hope I was good. I am the first person to give you head after all.” He wraps his other arm around you, hands sliding down your back to your bare ass.

That's when you zoned back in, realizing how naked you were in his presence once again. You would think after basically being bare in front of him, you wouldn't feel the need to cover up, but it's still there. You shuffle a bit in his arms feeling the need to quickly hide or cover up.

“I forgot I'm practically naked," you say, peeling his arms off you to get up and put your clothes on, but he stops you. Sion hugs you so tight, you start to feel the hard on resting in his shorts.

" Let's take a shower together,” he says in your ear. The visual of him wet and soapy popped in your mind. His hair wet, lips dripping as he watches you on your knees thanking him with his dick in your mouth. Your body heats up from your vivid imagination, avoiding eye contact with him as you let the thoughts run wild. Sion can tell you've drifted elsewhere, his laugh bringing you back to the moment.

“Were you actually thinking about it," he chuckles. “I'm joking baby. You won't be able to handle it."

" Shut up,” you grumble. You push him off of you playfully, taking his arms from around you. Standing up, you feel the air hit between your legs making you shutter. Your eyes glance at the space between your clothes and his, heat rising to your face coming to terms with what happened moments ago.

He watches you pick your clothes up and run to his bathroom without another word. "Don't take too long, I'll miss you,” he called out.

You couldn't help but unintentionally gasp at his words once you closed his bathroom door. Once you look into the mirror nothing could've prepared you for your appearance. Your hair was a mess, eyes red, completely drained. This is the worst you've looked, yet Sion had always seen your worst. He's even seen parts of you that you're too weary showing people you've been romantically involved with, and that's what's scary about all this.

You can't like him. You can't want something with him just because you were intimate. He doesn't like people. He doesn't date people. Sion is just a guy who happened to do you a favor, so why do you want him?

And why do you want him now of all times? Would it be smart to tell him how you feel? Probably not, but you made it this far so what do you have to lose?

[springseasonie]

A Favor (OSO) (M)

Sion x inexperienced fem reader

Part 2.

Summary: you decide to take losing your virginity into your own hands by asking your good friend Sion, but sensing your nervousness, he slightly changes your plans.

Warnings: sexual content, Sion djs ur cooch, fwb/friends tot lovers kinda vibe??? Idk

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: really attracted to Sion atm. Also first wish post yayyyy. actually used @neocharm fic as inspo for this cuz it was toooo tea. Here the link if y'all wanna read it (y'all should def read. It changed my life) sorry if this is bad I haven't written anything in a long time

“So…”

"So?”

You sit on his bed back upright with your hands folded on your lap. The tension is so thick and so is the headache brewing in your skull. Sion's staring at you while resting his body on his hands, his little smile taunting you from your peripheral.

"You don't have to sit so far from me you know,” Sion says, chuckling at your startled reaction.

“O-oh right. Yeah, sorry." You scoot over to him, barely moving an inch on the bed. This is not how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to lose your virginity with your close friend because you're comfortable with him, but something changed the second you walked into his house.

You've never really had a thing for him despite him being a lady's man. Yes he's attractive, but that's never been something that you focused on with him. He's a good friend, never making you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable despite you being a woman. He heard your concerns about being a virgin at 21 and came up with the solution. "Let me take your virginity.” He was so nonchalant about the comment it nearly gave you whiplash, but here you are in his room like it never bothered you.

You may know him well, but nothing is more intimidating than being alone with a hot person. And he knows he's hot, which makes it worse. He knows how to get girls going, how to draw them in and capture them for good. And you're now noticing that he's looking at you how he looks at girls he wants.

" Listen we don't have to if you don't-”

"No no! I want to! I just…" you voice trails off as brows knit, worry beginning to cover your face. “This is new to me. I can't make the first move."

Sion laughs and sighs, eyes staring into your soul as he sits up on the bed. “Just kiss me Y/N. You know how to do that, right?"

You nod slowly. Your response makes him laugh again, which makes you frown in return. Can't he see how hard this is for you? Sure, you asked him, but nonetheless this is the most anxiety inducing decision you've made in your entire life.

"Oh don't get upset. You want me to kiss you first,” he offers. Sion scoots closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He's close, too close maybe. You've never been this close to him before and it makes your heart beat from your chest. This was supposed to be something that has no emotion attached but it's starting to feel like he's more into it than you, or maybe it's the opposite.

" Just follow my lead, okay? There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just me, I'll take good care of you,” he says in a soft voice. Sion takes his other hand, placing it on your chin to lift your face. You close your eyes seeing him lean in, but he doesn't kiss you. Instead, he kisses your cheek. Sion peppers soft kisses on your face, kissing the corner of your mouth before kissing down your jaw. It's really starting to feel personal now. You understand he doesn't want to get straight to the point, but this is beginning to make you a bit dizzy.

You feel him making his way back to your face, kisses trailing up your neck and jaw back to the corner of your mouth. Your hands move on their own along with your body, beginning to tilt closer to him. Fingertips trailing up his arm stopping at his wrist, it lights something in him, something that's far from friendly.

Sion finally kisses you and it's good, too good. His lips move slowly and sensually, the hand that's on your waist pulls your body close, so close you're damn near on top of him. He seems like an expert in this but you didn't expect anything less. The man has a new woman in his bed every week, so it hardly surprises you how smooth it is. But what does surprise you is how gentle and slow he is.

Sion slips a bit of tongue, making you go still. You've never kissed anyone for this long, let alone with this much passion. You aren't sure what to do or how to respond and he can tell. So he doesn't let you think about it too much. he just kisses you deep, teeth nipping at your lip, laughing softly on your mouth when you release a tiny gasp. You can feel yourself melting into his touch.

Sion pulls away, a smirk tugging at his lips watching your eyes flutter open to look at his. “Did you like that," he says.

You're flustered, heart racing and heavy breathing not going unnoticed by the male in front of you. He's so handsome, pretty eyes, pretty lips, and soft hands. You never really noticed these things before but they're more than clear now. Does he kiss everyone like that or just you? No wonder he has so much girl drama.

"Y/N, you gotta talk to me,” he laughs softly, biting his lip after.

"O-oh, uh… yeah, yeah," you say, nodding with wide eyes.

Sion's reaction makes your stomach so backflips. His soft teasing laughter pings in your chest, his intense eye contact making the ping worse. And now your senses are heightened and you notice everything. His hand still on your chin, yours still around his wrist, his other hand rubbing circles into the exposed skin on your waist. This is intimate, a bit too intimate.

"I think you should wait to lose your virginity,” he says, the comment surprising you.

"Wait, why,” you question. “I thought you were okay with it," you say, voice trailing off into a quiet whisper.

“I am, but… you seem a bit flustered for this to be no strings attached," he comments.

You don't say anything, just look away. Sion knows you enough to know that you agree with him, but you just don't want to say it. But he feels it too. He feels the spark, and he actually enjoys it. He can't say he's never looked at you in that way before. You're beautiful, funny, smart, and someone he's actually comfortable with. The only thing he's worried about is if you both were to actually go all the way, would you regret ever asking him.

“We can do something else, only if you're okay with it of course," he says.

Your mind wanders to every possible interaction, face heating at the thought of him touching you in those ways even though you asked him to. You weren't supposed to get shy during this at all. You were supposed to rip your clothes off and let him get at you, but how could you when he looks at you like that. Like he can see your thoughts and read your mind.

"I'm okay with it,” you say quietly. You shut your eyes the moment he leans in, kissing you softly. Sion lays you down, his bed soft as ever. There's something so intentional about the way he slides his hand down your body, fingers pressing into your soft skin all while devouring your lips. You're over stimulated and getting hornier by the second. You've never had these emotions stir from simply making out. Every possible person you've kissed was always bland, boring, detached, but this is a whole new level.

He pulls away from you for a second, a string of saliva keeping your two connected as he pushes your shirt up. You gulp as you watch him expose your chest, bra hugging your breast tight.

“Pretty," he mumbled. Sion kissed down your neck, nipping at the skin teasingly. He kisses lower, his lips fanning softly over the mound of your breast. He was touching you as if you'd break. His fingers twitch, itching to get the clothes off of you, but he doesn't want to scare you. He doesn't want this to feel like a sloppy hookup or likes he's simply using you. But the reality is that you're the one using him, and he likes it.

You don't realize how fast and quick you're breathing till he kisses down your abdomen. The kisses are wet, while his eyes bore into yours not wanting you to forget the image of him getting lower and lower to your hips. There it is, the anxiety that blooms in your stomach whenever you're in impossible situations.

Sion kisses your hip and pauses, watching you gulp as the contact lingers on your skin. “Don't be nervous,” he said almost in a whisper.

He crawled back up your body, his slender frame covering your body casting a shadow over you. He kisses you with a tenderness you hadn't felt from him yet, but you liked it. You liked all of this. It felt real, as if you did this with him all the time, but maybe it's because he knows you so well already he didn't have to think too much.

Sion can't let himself melt into you too much in fear he won't be able to pull himself up. He doesn't really have crushes or relationships. It saves him from having to get close to people he has no intention of getting close with. Sure, he can end up in sticky situations with some girls he sees regularly, but it's nothing he can't handle. Still, no matter how many girls he's dealt with, none of those experiences come close to this one.

None of them make him feel as elated as he feels sinking his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and panties, knowing he's about to be the first person you do this with. You keep up with his rhythm, lips moving at a pace that now feels natural to you. He's kissing you slow and deep like before, tongue deep in your mouth. He can tell you're beginning to feel comfortable the second you take his face in your hands, not wanting to let him go.

Just when he thought you'd shaken your nerves, you stiffen the second you feel him tug at your clothes. Every self conscious thought you had reappeared, stomach erupting in flame once again.

“I-I didn't shave," you blurt out. You half expected an irritated hiss from him, or maybe for him to back out. But Sion laughed, paying your comment no mind as he kissed your neck.

"I don't care about stuff like that Y/N,” he says, beginning to pull your shorts down again. He tugs the fabric, your skin becoming more and more exposed. “Just remember if you're not comfortable we can stop okay?"

You nod, but you can't tear your eyes from the scene below you. Your shorts are now on the floor, panties still on. Sion walks his fingers down your thigh as he kisses your neck, hand inching more and more between your legs.

“Do you touch yourself Y/N,” he asks, lips still on your skin.

"I-I, uh..” you could barely answer, let alone think. His fingers are so close to your clothes pussy it's starting to tear you apart.

"Focus sweetheart. Talk to me.”

"I-Ive tried, but I didn't feel much,” you say. A soft gasp leaves your lips when feel his fingers graze your clit, the sound making him raise his brows.

" I can make you feel something.” His deep voice came out as a breathless whisper, tickling your eardrums as he rubs his finger against your panties softly. Your legs were shutting, the sensation of him touching you there being too bizarre at the moment, but still good. He watches every expression that comes across your face. It's cute how expressive you are when you're alone with someone you like. Sion starts pulling your legs apart, expecting you to shy away, but you don't.

You can't pull your eyes from his hand, every stroke his thumb puts you more and more into a haze of pleasure. Sion kisses your jaw, sucking the skin while he rubs your through the fabric. Your heavy breathing begins to turn to soft moans and whimpers, sounds you were trying to hold in for so long.

“Sion," you moaned breathlessly.

"You're so perfect baby. Just for me,” he mumbles. “Can I touch you some more?"

Without a second thought, you nod. Sion hooks his fingers in your panties, the nerves starting to hit you again the moment he moves them to the side. He dips his fingers in you, collecting your slick on his digit. He rubs you, lip between his teeth while he watches you shiver in pleasure.

Your eyes roll back, brows knit as you allow the feeling to spill through your body. " F-fuck, feels so good,” you moan softly.

"Yeah? Are you gonna cum," he whispers in your ear.

You gulp, nodding at his words. Sion rubs your clit faster, pulling a louder whimper from your body. Soft lips sprinkle wet kisses on your neck, his tongue on your skin making you hotter than before. You can't tell, but he's holding back. Sion knows how greedy he can get, how much of a lover he is. He enjoys pleasing his partners, catering to their needs. It's taking everything in him to not move too fast and fuck you into the mattress, and it's killing him.

"Oh my God Sion,” you moan, throwing your head back. Your hips grind on his hand, searching for a high.

“Do you feel good,” he whispers.

"Words baby, speak to me.”

"It feels so, so good," you whine. “You feel so good."

He feels his stomach turn to knots, your words nearly making him combust right there on top of you. There's something so good about hearing you say that, knowing he's the only person to make you feel this way. His cock is rock hard against the fabric on his body. Nothing but the desire to bring you to your climax takes over this brain.

"Good girl, just like that baby,” he says as you grind your hips on his hand. His lips are stuck on your skin, tongue constantly darting out to taste your soft salty skin. He coats your neck in small hickies making his way to your lips. He kisses you tenderly, tongue down your throat as he rubs you faster. Your body shakes, loud moans pouring into his mouth as you grab the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

“F-fuck," you whimper into his mouth.

Sion feels the way you tense up, the way you grip his hair the instant you cum on his fingers. “That's right, let it out Y/N.” He keeps rubbing your clit, loving the way your body spasms under his touch. His hand is wet along with your thighs, and he loves the mess. He kisses you deep, slowing his fingers down gradually, allowing you to come down from your very first orgasm.

"You did so good,” he mumbles, a smile tugging on his face. “How do you feel, hm?”

You were speechless, brain still mush after the out of body experience you just had. There was a slight buzz between the two of you, a buzz that was more than platonic and you liked it. You lived it in fact. The way he was so gentle with you, so caring, making sure you felt comfortable. This felt like something only boyfriends do and you like that feeling.

"I… I..”

He watched you, eyes never leaving yours as the both of you breathe heavily due to the adrenaline rush of being at each other's mercy. The more you stared at him, the more that intimating feeling began to rush back in. Your face turns hot, eyes fluttering as you look away from him quickly, embarrassment beginning to form.

" I-i feel good,” you say quietly.

"Good? That's it,” he teases. Sion licks his lips, his signature smile beaming in your face as you try and find more words to say.

"I-I mean, uh..”

The man laughs at you, pecking your lips softly. “I'm fucking with you.” He gets quiet, eyes grazing over your body. His hand that was between your legs now rests on your thigh allowing you to close them. You look pretty, face flushed, your skin glowing, lips pretty and plump. He could stare at you forever.

"You know I care about you right,” he says, a small gulp passing down his throat.

“I know," you answer quietly. Sion takes his hand that was just between your legs, grabbing your jaw gently. He kisses you soft, a kiss that feels emotionally charged and not very platonic. What he did to you wasn't platonic either, and he has no intention of keeping it that way.

Sion pulls away, lifting his body away from you. In that instance, you wanted to pull him back. You wanted to kiss him again and again and again until you couldn't anymore, until he took you in his hands again and maybe, just maybe, pulled your panties down and-

“You okay? You look a bit distracted," he said, raising a brow at your distant expression. “Did you hear me?"

“Uh, sorry," you say, body getting hot at the thought of fucking your friend.

"I was asking if you wanted to stay over,” he chuckled. He could tell you were taken back by the expression on your face. You tensed up, eyes darting around the room in an awkward motion.

“Like… tonight?”

He nodded, lip between his teeth. “You don't have to."

You pause, staring at your hands thinking about what staying could mean. Maybe you really will just hang out like friends. Maybe he'll touch you more. Maybe he'd actually take your virginity. “Yeah, I can stay," you say, trying to stay calm about it but on the inside you're freaking out, and so was Sion. He felt like a middle schooler again, when your crush agrees to study with you or walk to class with you. It's a nostalgic feeling.

“Cool! Um…you can wash up if you want. You know where everything is," he says, an awkward chuckle following.

You nod, standing up quickly. You almost forgot that you had no pants on till you saw them on the floor at your feet. Quickly, you picked them up avoiding eye contact with he male besides who's amused by your every move.

“I'll be back," you say, scurrying out the room. Your heart beats faster than you could imagine as you make your way to his bathroom.

“Don't make me wait too long," he says quietly to himself. “I don't think I can wait anymore."

Sion lays back on his bed, staring at his ceiling fan as it turns. His head is jumbled with many conflicting emotions and concepts, he doesn't know which one to choose. So his plan is to let them choose him.

And, God, he hopes he can pick well, because if not, he would hate to lose you as a friend or even as something more.

[j0shuahongs]

Director's Cut

pairing: porn-director!haechan x newbie!fem reader

genre: smut (pwp) 18+ mdni!

warnings / tags: explicit sexual content, eye fucking, horny pining, fantasizing, voyeurism, clit play, penetration (co-actor x reader), masturbation (m), overstimulation

wc: 5k

a/n: please do not read if uncomfy! majority of this has no direct contact between mc and haechan (yet). it does have a part 2 but still a wip hehe.

The set is dimly lit, all soft reds and blacks, the kind of lighting that makes skin glow like it’s already slick. Cameras positioned, crew quiet, air thick with the industrial sweetness of lube, latex, and the faint, metallic tang of sweat and adrenaline—though here, it’s not so much anticipation as it is tedium, everyone waiting for the next instruction, the next cut.

Haechan is perched in his director’s chair like always—legs spread, arms crossed, black hoodie up, expression is half-lidded, mouth slack, utterly unruffled. Bored as fuck.

He likes to watch the scene as a whole, not the parts: the shudder of a shoulder, the matched arch of spines, the geometry of bodies weaving a single shape. There’s no eroticism to it anymore, at least not for him. If he feels anything, it’s the dull, satisfying click of a puzzle piece snapping into place.

Hundreds of scenes, maybe a thousand, have blurred together since he started this job. He’s watched every way a person can cum, and half the ways a person can fake it. He has memorized the pitch and cadence of moans, the difference between a real orgasm and a theatrical one, and the precise window—usually less than three minutes—before a boner becomes a liability on camera

His discipline is legendary; he’s never popped wood on set, not even once, not even when he was nineteen and the girls were all older and he had something to prove. He’s immune—a fucking monk

To him, porn stopped being exciting years ago. It’s just product now. Lighting. Framing. Sellable shots.

So today is supposed to be like any other. The schedule says: opening vignette, oral, first position, second position, cumshot, credits. The contract talent are already running lines and limbering up in the green room. There’s nothing on the call sheet that reads as unusual.

But then you walk onto set.

You’re new—he knows this before you even speak.

You’re the new girl, and it’s obvious. Everything about the way you stand—towel wrapped tight enough to choke arterial flow, eyes darting, breath lost somewhere in your chest—screams “first real gig.” No fake lashes, no caked-on foundation, no stage persona yet to hide inside. Just you, raw and exposed, skin already flushing from the robe drop and the sudden attention of three different lenses, each click and whirr doubling your nerves.

The scene’s supposed to be “natural couple, first time,” but the male lead—some generic, muscle-thick dude with a jaw you could sand plywood on—has all the sexual chemistry of a dishrag.

You think his name might be Chad? Whatever. He doesn’t even pretend to care. He’s flipping through his phone right up to the second “places, everyone,” gets called, barely glancing your way except to ask if you’re “tight with overs or can you take a big zoom.” You have no idea what that means, so you just nod, and he laughs without looking up.

When the camera rolls, Chad’s hands come at you—too fast, all palm, no finesse. It’s like he’s using your clit as a joystick: sharp, dry, mechanical. The friction stings. You keep waiting for him to notice you’re not… primed. He doesn’t.

You try to smile, a tiny “I’m good, keep going” nod, but it’s not in your voice yet. You’re trying—God, you’re trying—Your hips roll, hoping to catch a better angle, your own fingers twitching at your side, desperate to take over. Gasps, soft and uncertain, slip from your lips; you keep pitching your lines higher, like maybe you can sell it if you play the wide-eyed ingenue and act surprised by touch itself, but it’s obvious it’s not hitting right.

The crew is silent, but not out of respect. You can feel the collective disappointment in the air, a staleness that grows with each awkward grin. You catch the boom guy’s reflection in the glass; he looks like he’s holding his breath, his mouth twisted in a grimace like he’s physically pained by how forced it all sounds.

The camera operator is already bored, drinking his coffee with one hand while the other steers the gimbal dutifully back and forth. The only person actually watching is the director, Haechan, who hasn’t blinked for what feels like five minutes.

You’ve heard a dozen rumors about him—strict, never smiles, hates ad-libs, will shut down a scene if the lighting is off by half a stop. But he’s never once yelled, never once embarrassed talent in front of the crew. He just sits there, hoodie up, one knee bouncing, hands clenched on his clipboard. Judging by the little twitch in his jaw and the way his pencil is slowly being crushed into splinters, this is not the performance he wanted.

Chad misses his mark again, hand slipping, and you yelp, an ugly real sound through the room like a burst of microphone feedback.

Haechan’s jaw ticks.

“Cut,” he snaps, voice sharper than usual. The crew freezes.

Every head in the room snaps up—boom guy, focus puller, even the veteran makeup artist, who’s been boredly lint-rolling pubes off the sheets for the last twenty minutes. Chad, the male talent, straightens up like a scolded puppy, dick bobbing stupidly.

Haechan rises from his seat slowly. The room suddenly feels smaller. The whole crew tries to look busy, but everyone’s watching him from the corners of their eyes.

He crosses the set in three long strides, he doesn’t bother with the fake set stairs—just swings one leg up onto the platform and steps directly into the “bedroom,” the mock-up of a midcentury hotel suite they’ll probably tear down by tomorrow.

Haechan steps right up to the mattress, looming at the edge, and for a second you think he’s going to just call it—wrap early and go home. But then he looks down at you.

You stayed at your position: sprawled on the sheets, hair a mess already, thighs parted. Your skin is sticky with the glycerin spray they use to make people look “just-fucked.” Your chest rises and falls fast.

“Move,” he tells Chad, low, no room for argument. Chad scrambles off the bed.

Haechan doesn’t sit where Chad was. He remains standing at the edge, close enough that you can smell his cologne—something expensive and dark, undercut with the faint salt of skin.

He doesn’t touch you. Not directly.

Instead he reaches for Chad’s hand. The one that was just pawing, ineptly, at your clit, dry and imprecise and barely tolerable. Haechan’s fingers close around Chad’s wrist. His grip is gentle but absolute. Chad doesn’t even try to resist.

Then, with infinite patience, he starts to move Chad’s fingers over your clit, guiding it in slow, deliberate circles. He moves it exactly the way you like it; not pressing hard, just... teasing. Perfect pressure. Lazy figure-eights that make your hips twitch involuntarily. Just shy of too gentle, slow enough to make you ache.

“Like this,” Haechan says, and his voice is all gravel and velvet, the kind of voice you can feel in your spine. Haechan’s eyes never leave yours.

You bite your lip. Hard. Trying not to whimper.

You try not to react. ‘I am a professional. I am being paid for this.’ you thought. But your body doesn’t get the memo.

Heat lances through your core, pooling there, making your thighs tense and your toes curl against the sheets. You force your breath to stay even, but it helps nothing. Haechan’s gaze is a hand all by itself, pinning you to the bed, and your body starts to betray you: nipples tightening, hips rocking up, a sound leaking out that was never in the script.

He watches all of it. His pupils are blown wide, nearly swallowing the brown of his irises.

He's still guiding Chad's fingers under his, but it might as well be his hand. The rhythm is his. The control is his. Every tiny hitch in your breath, every flutter of your lashes—he sees it. Drinks it.

Chad’s breathing gets weird and shallow, but Haechan doesn’t even acknowledge him. Chad might as well be a prop now—a toy in the director’s hand, moving exactly the way Haechan wants.

Seconds stretch. Haechan keeps Chad’s rhythm brutally consistent, never speeding up, never varying, until your entire lower body is shaking. You want to close your eyes, to escape the intensity, but you can’t look away from Haechan.

You don’t dare make a sound. You do anyway.

It’s a soft, broken whine. It feels like being split open under stage lights. You can’t remember the camera or the crew. It’s just you and him and the steady, inescapable pressure building inside your skull.

You’re trembling now. Not acting. Not really. The way Haechan’s guiding—precise, patient, almost tender in its cruelty.

Haechan’s throat bobs. Once. Hard.

He leans in just a fraction—enough that his breath ghosts over your knee.

“Better?” he murmurs. It’s quiet, like it’s meant only for you.

You nod. Barely. Eyes glassy.

There’s the tiniest smile at the corner of his mouth before he finally releases Chad’s hand. Chad stumbles a little, like he’s forgotten how to stand on his own, but Haechan has already forgotten him.

“Good girl,” he says, so soft it’s almost sweet. Then louder, to the crew: “Reset. We’re going again. And Chad—” He finally looks at the guy. “Watch. Learn.”

Haechan steps back to his chair. Sits. Crosses one leg over the other.

But under the table, out of frame, he has to adjust himself. Discreet. Jaw clenched.

He’s trying for nonchalance, but his face—so carefully neutral a minute ago—is barely holding together.

Because fuck.  

He’s so hard it hurts.

And he knows—deep in his gut—that this scene isn’t going to end with just one take.

Not with you looking at him like that.

The cameras roll again. Reset. Lights adjusted just so—soft, warm, flattering. The room hums with low chatter from the crew, but Haechan’s world has narrowed to one thing: you.

He’s back in his chair, legs spread wide like always, one elbow on the armrest, chin in his hand. To anyone watching, he looks the same—cool, detached, the veteran who’s seen every angle, every fake orgasm, every scripted moan.

Except right now, his pulse is hammering in his throat.

Chad’s back between your legs, trying again. Better this time—sort of. He’s following the rhythm Haechan drilled into him earlier, but it’s still mechanical. Predictable. Your body responds anyway because you’re a professional (or trying to be), arching just enough, lips parting on soft, breathy sounds that hit Haechan like a punch.

He watches your face—the way your brows knit when the pressure builds, the flutter of your lashes when it almost tips over, the way your mouth falls open on a silent gasp before the sound actually escapes. Those little, real reactions. The ones no one else notices because they’re too busy staring at tits or ass or whatever the money shot demands.

But Haechan notices.

He notices everything.

“Camera two, tight on her face,” he calls out, voice steady even though his grip on the armrest is white-knuckled. “Capture the eyes. The lips. Make it intimate. She’s the star—sell that.”

The operator nods, zooms in. Haechan’s gaze flicks to the monitor feed beside him—your expression filling the screen in high def. Cheeks flushed, pupils dark, lips swollen from biting them. Every tiny hitch, every shiver.

Your eyes flicker to him.

Just once at first. Quick. Like you’re checking if he’s still watching.

He is.

Always.

You hold it this time. Longer. Your gaze locks with his across the dimly lit set—through the haze of lights and lenses and bodies moving around. It’s not acting. Not really. There’s heat in it. Question. Challenge. Need.

Haechan doesn’t blink.

His jaw flexes. He shifts in the chair—subtle, but fuck, the friction against his straining cock makes his vision white out for a second. He forces himself still. Professional. In control.

“Slow it down,” he directs, quieter now, almost to himself. “Chad—tease. Don’t rush. Let her build.”

Chad obeys. Your hips roll up instinctively, chasing the touch. A soft whimper slips out—real, broken—and Haechan’s breath catches audibly. He covers it with a cough, but his free hand drops to his thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. Anything to stop himself from palming over his jeans right here, right now, in front of the whole crew.

Your eyes find him again. This time they stay. Glassy. Pleading. Like you’re performing for him. Not the camera. Not the future viewers. Him.

He swallows thickly. Leans forward just a fraction.

“Camera one—lower angle on her thighs,” he says, voice rougher. “Show the tremble. The way she’s shaking for it.”

The shot changes. Your legs part a little more, muscles quivering under soft skin. Another sound escapes you—higher, needier—and Haechan’s control frays another inch.

He’s never been this hard on set. Never this invested. Never this fucking gone.

You arch again, head tipping back, but your eyes snap right back to his like a magnet. Your lips part around a silent word that hits him like a physical blow—his name, unmistakable even from here, the shape of those syllables burning into his retinas.

He exhales through his nose. Slow. Controlled.

“Good,” he murmurs, low enough that only he himself can hear it. “Just like that. Keep looking at me.”

He draws in a slow breath, like he’s trying to breathe around something lodged in his ribs.

And he knows—deep in his gut, where logic has already left the building—that this isn’t just a scene anymore.

This isn’t normal.

He’s directed hundreds of girls. Thousands of takes.

But this is different.

You’re not performing at the camera.

You’re looking at him.

And the worst part—the part that makes something tighten low in his stomach—is that he doesn’t want you to stop.

That’s the problem.

---

The break is short—five minutes, tops. Just enough time for the crew to stretch, grab water, reset lights that don’t actually need resetting. Haechan uses it to pull you aside, away from the main set, into the little curtained-off “green room” corner that’s really just a folding chair and a folding table with bottled water and a half-eaten box of donuts.

He leans against the wall, arms crossed, hoodie a bit low over his eyes like he’s trying to hide how intently he’s looking at you. Professional. Always professional.

“Hey,” he starts, voice low so no one else hears. “You’re doing good out there. Really good. But listen—I know this industry chews people up if they push too hard. Especially the first few shoots.”

You nod, heart already doing that stupid flutter thing because he’s actually talking to you like a person, not just talent.

He drags one hand across his jaw, the shadow of stubble catching on his palm. “Look—I know it’s your first real set. This place, the lights, being so exposed. It’s a lot. The crew’s always more intense than you expect. They can be…” He shrugs, searching for the word, “overstimulating. Even when they don’t mean to.” He looks up, and for a split second, you could swear you see his mouth tighten, like he’s angry on your behalf.

You nod, because he’s right—it is a lot. Your body is still humming, not from what Chad did, but from the before and the after, from the fact that you can still feel Haechan’s eyes on you from across the room, even now.

He licks his lips, eyes flicking to your face, then quickly away. “I know the expectation is—” He gestures, vague, like he can’t be bothered to say the words ‘orgasm’  or ‘squirting’ out loud.

“You don’t have to cum for real every take,” he continues, eyes flicking over your face like he’s reading a script he’s memorized. “Fake it. Sell the build-up, the tremble, the little gasps—most viewers can’t tell the difference anyway. And honestly? Forcing it every time strains your pelvis like hell. I’ve seen girls limping off set after a long day. Don’t do that to yourself.”

Your breath catches. He’s… thoughtful? Actually concerned? You’ve heard horror stories about directors who don’t give a fuck, who just yell “harder” until someone cries. But here he is, warning you about your own body like he cares if you walk out of here okay.

He must say this to every new actress, right? Standard protocol. Still, the way he’s looking at you—soft around the edges, almost gentle—makes your stomach flip.

“And if anything hurts,” he adds, quieter now, “even a little. You tell me. We stop. No questions. Got it?”

You swallow. Nod again. “Got it.”

He gives you the tiniest smile—just a twitch at the corner of his mouth—then pushes off the wall. “Good. Take two in a bit. Drink some water.”

He walks away first, leaving you standing there with your pulse in your throat and a sudden, embarrassing rush of warmth between your legs.

Because fuck.  

He noticed. He cared. And now all you can think about is his voice saying “tell me” and “stop” like he’d actually listen, like he’d protect you mid-scene if you needed it.

By the time they call action again, you’re already slick. Not from Chad’s earlier fumbling. Nope. It was from Haechan’s five-minute pep talk. From the way his eyes lingered when he said “good.” From imagining what it would feel like if those careful, controlled hands were the ones touching you instead.

Chad slides back between your thighs, condom on, positioning himself. You spread a little wider, trying to look natural for the three cameras positioned around the bed.

He pushes in slow—standard porn entry shot, nothing special.

But your brain short-circuits.

You picture Haechan instead.

The way he’d hold your hips steady. The way he’d watch your face the whole time, cataloging every twitch like he did earlier. The low, wrecked murmur of “just like that” right against your ear. The way he’d probably tease you first—slow rolls, shallow thrusts—until you were begging without words.

Chad moves. Steady. Mechanical. Like a metronome with abs.

You close your eyes for a second. Imagine it’s Haechan’s weight pressing you down. Haechan’s breath on your neck. Haechan’s cock stretching you, filling you, owning every gasp.

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

The coil tightens fast—too fast. Heat rushes low, thighs trembling for real this time. Your nails dig into the sheets. A broken whimper slips out, unscripted. Your thighs lock around Chad's waist so hard he grunts in surprise.

Chad keeps going, oblivious.

But across the set, Haechan freezes.

He’s watching the monitor, jaw slack for half a second before he recovers. Your eyes find his through the haze—glassy, desperate—and you don’t look away.

You come.

Hard.

For real.

Waves crashing through you, back arching off the bed, a choked sob of his name almost escaping before you bite it back.

Your walls flutter and clench around Chad (poor Chad), but behind your eyelids it's Haechan you’re seeing. It's Haechan destroying you, it’s Haechan you’re coming for.

The cameras keep rolling.

Haechan’s hand shoots up—silent signal to keep shooting—but his other fist is clenched so tight on the armrest the knuckles are bone-white. His breathing is shallow. Visible. He’s staring like he’s forgotten how to blink.

“Cut,” he finally rasps, voice wrecked. Too late. The take’s already gold.

The crew starts clapping—thinking it’s great acting.

You’re still trembling, aftershocks rolling through you, thighs slick, heart hammering.

Haechan doesn’t clap.

He just watches you.

And when your eyes meet again—post-orgasm haze and all—there’s no pretending anymore.

He knows.

You know he knows.

And the look on his face says this shoot just changed everything.

---

The set lights dim one by one, the crew packing up with the usual post-shoot chatter—someone laughing about how the take was “money,” another clapping you on the shoulder with a genuine “First gig and you killed it, girl. Natural. We’re booking you again for sure.” Chad gives you a fist bump and a wink that feels oddly hollow now. You smile, thank them, heart still racing from the aftershocks, thighs sticky under the robe you’ve hastily tied.

You glance toward Haechan’s chair.

It’s empty.

He’s already gone.

No goodbye, no “good work,” no lingering look like before. Just… vanished. The director who’d been staring holes through you for hours suddenly can’t even meet your eyes on the way out.

The disappointment hits sharper than it should. You tell yourself it’s nothing—he’s busy, he’s a pro, he probably does this every shoot. But the ache between your legs pulses in protest, like your body knows better.

Meanwhile, across the city, Haechan barely makes it through his apartment door.

Keys clatter on the floor. He doesn’t bother with lights. The hallway is dark, just the faint blue glow from the streetlamp outside bleeding through the blinds. He kicks the door shut behind him, back slamming against it for a second as he drags in a ragged breath.

His cock is still painfully hard—has been since that last take, since your real, broken orgasm rolled through you while staring straight at him. The memory is burned behind his eyelids: your lashes fluttering, lips parted on that choked little sound, the way your hips jerked like you couldn’t help it, like it was *him* making you come apart.

“Fuck,” he hisses, already fumbling with his belt.

He doesn’t even get the jeans all the way down.

They catch at mid-thigh, boxers shoved just low enough to free himself. His hand wraps around his length—hot, leaking, so sensitive the first stroke makes his knees buckle. He slides down the door until he’s sitting on the cold floor, legs splayed, head tipped back against the wood.

He doesn’t tease himself. No slow buildup. He’s too far gone for that.

He starts fast. Rough. Fist tight, twisting at the head on every upstroke, thumb smearing the pre-cum that’s been leaking since the second you locked eyes during that final thrust.

His mind replays it in filthy, high-definition detail.

Your face on the monitor—close-up, just like he’d ordered. Brows pinched, mouth slack, eyes glassy and fixed on him like the cameras didn’t exist. The way your tits rose and fell with every shallow pant. The tremble in your thighs when Chad pushed in deeper. The exact second your walls must have clenched—because your whole body arched, spine bowing off the sheets, a soft, wrecked whimper spilling out that wasn’t scripted, wasn’t fake.

He groans low in his throat, hips jerking up into his hand.

“Fuck—look at you,” he mutters to the empty hallway, voice hoarse. “Coming so pretty for me… weren’t you?”

He imagines it’s him between your legs instead.

Not Chad’s clumsy rhythm. His.

He pictures pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. Slow at first—teasing, shallow rolls just to watch your frustration build, to hear you whine his name. Then deeper. Harder. Bottoming out every time until your nails dig into his back, until you’re shaking, begging, “Haechan—please—don’t stop—”

His strokes speed up. Sloppy now. The wet sound of his fist echoing in the quiet apartment.

He replays your eyes—those little glances you kept throwing him between takes, like you were performing just for him. The way they went wide and hazy right before you tipped over the edge. The way your lips formed that silent, desperate shape—his name? A plea? He doesn’t know, but he pretends it was both.

“Wanted it to be me, didn’t you?” he growls, hips snapping up harder. “Wanted my cock stretching you open… fucking you until you couldn’t breathe… until you came all over me like that again—”

His free hand fists in his hoodie, yanking it up so he can see himself—thick, flushed, veins standing out, slick shining on every downstroke. He imagines it’s your wetness instead. Your heat. Your tight, fluttering walls gripping him so good he can barely think.

He pictures flipping you over, face down, ass up—grabbing your hips and slamming back in while you muffle your cries into the sheets. Or maybe on your back, legs over his shoulders so he can watch every inch disappear inside you, watch your face crumple every time he hits that spot that makes you sob his name.

His balls draw up tight. Heat coils low and vicious.

“Fuck—gonna fill you up,” he pants, voice cracking. “Gonna come so deep you’ll feel me for days… gonna make you come again just watching me lose it inside you—”

The first pulse hits like a shockwave.

He chokes on a moan, head slamming back against the door as he spills over his fist—hot, thick ropes streaking across his stomach, dripping down his knuckles. His hips jerk through it, riding the waves, imagining it’s your cunt milking him dry instead.

He keeps stroking through the oversensitivity until it hurts, until every last drop is wrung out, until he’s trembling and gasping against the wood.

When it’s over, he slumps there on the floor—jeans still tangled around his thighs, hoodie rucked up, cum cooling on his skin—and lets out a long, wrecked laugh.

Because he’s fucked.

Completely, irreversibly fucked.

He just came harder than he had in years… to the memory of a girl he’s directed for one single day.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow there’s another shoot.

With you.

He drags a hand down his face, still breathing hard.

“Shit,” he mutters.

He’s already half-hard again just thinking about it.

[yujisabs]

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 - 𝐋.𝐉𝐍

You work your usual night shift at a midnight café, when suddenly, a stranger bursts through the door and hides behind the counter. Seconds later a police officer follows and asks you about a red haired guy. For some reason, you deny ever having seen someone like that, so the officer leaves. When the guy you just protected keeps reappearing after that night, you can feel that something is up. But will he let you into his world? And do you even want to find out what exactly his deal is?

pairing: Jeno x fem!reader ft. Jaemin, Yuqi & Bang Chan

genre: slice of life, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, found family

warnings: lots of swear words, mentions of wounds and blood, injuries, mentions of alcohol, troublesome family background, shady business, loan sharks, sorta fight club scene, real life problems, parents suck in this, 18+

wc: ~40k

note: so yeah, this is somewhat inspired by the whole beat it up concept...even tho I strayed from it quite a bit. But I just wanted everyone to know that however you imagine Jeno in this, I always thought of all the cool concept outfits the boys had. So his personality in this is pretty much based on the vibe I got from those. This is such a random psa, but for some reason I wanted to say this so y'all can have the same cool outfits in mind while reading. I didn't even describe any in this story but oh well 😅 now then, have fun reading.

now playing: NCT Dream - Unknown, ...

I. THE CHASE

Heavy breathing. The cold night air. His heart is pounding. He looks back for the third time. Sees the blue lights of the police car behind him. And quickens his pace. He needs to hide. Fast.

The police officer shouts for him to stop running, not letting off his pursuit. But he doesn´t listen. He can´t get caught.

Thankfully, luck is on his side. He rounds the corner. Jumps down a flight of stairs. Climbs up the wall of the small alleyway. And rounds another corner, not slowing his pace. There it is. A small store with the lights still on. A midnight cafe.

He sprints towards it. Pushes open the door with too much force. And hides behind the counter. He doesn´t give an ounce of attention to the barista staring at him in shock as he tries to catch his breath.

The young girl—you—just stands in shock, overwhelmed by what just happened. You were just minding your business, going about your tasks like any other shift. And then he crashes through the door, jumps over the counter, and hides behind it like it´s the most natural thing to do.

You are still holding the freshly cleaned mug, drying it with a towel, when a police officer storms in a minute later. He is out of breath too, and looks around frantically before he spots you.

You stop in your tracks, facing him like a deer in headlights. Then the man speaks to you with urgency. “Have you seen some guy with red hair pass by? Young, roughly this tall, dark clothes.” The officer states and demonstrates standard data, matching the guy who is sitting a meter away from you, clutching his mouth to keep quiet.

He looks at you pleadingly. You barely see it in the corner of your eyes. On instinct, you shake your head. “No, sir. I haven´t.” Your voice sounds steady and unfazed. The policeman in front of you nods slowly. He seems skeptical.

“Mind if I take a quick look around?” he asks, just to make sure he isn't missing anything, in case you are lying.

The question makes the guy’s eyes go wide. He fears this is it. He is already surprised that you covered for him. But before he can worry and look for another quick escape route, you act faster. You pull a cabinet door open, hiding his figure, and put away the mug as if that´s the place it belongs. “Sure, go ahead.”

You don´t close the door, and instead make sure to push whoever this stranger is further down to hide his figure while the officer starts roaming through the small cafe. He looks behind the chairs and even looks into the storage room. When he returns, not having found what he is looking for, he sighs. “Sorry for the intrusion. If you see anything suspicious in the area, please call 911 and let us know.” He excuses himself and then turns to leave the cafe.

Once the door shuts, you slam the counter door closed. You don´t look at him yet, but you are ready to bombard the stranger with questions. “It´s clear.” Your voice rings in his ears when you no longer see the officer outside.

The guy slowly gets up and peers over the counter, not fully trusting your words. But when he doesn´t see anything, he fully stands up. He looks at you, ready to say something. But the way you look at him—fierce eyes, and an expression that demands an explanation—has him swallow away any word he was about to mutter.

“So, mind telling me what your business is? Clearly, you aren´t here to buy a drink.” Your arms cross in front of your chest as you stare him down. In any other situation, you would probably take a step back, given the fact that he looks rough and ready to beat someone up. But you are full of adrenaline, so you can´t care less at the moment.

The guy, sporting some bruises and cuts on his face, red hair straying in many directions, and clothes that scream street gang, regains his composure and leans on the counter now. “There isn´t anything to explain.”

The way he dryly answers you leaves you unsatisfied. So you step closer to the door, ready to open it and go outside. “Officer?! There´s someone-” A hand wraps around your mouth and pulls you back against a broad chest.

“Fine! For fucks sake, shut up. Will you?” he scolds and cautiously looks towards the door, afraid the policeman heard you.

When he lets go of you, you turn and look at him, expecting an answer this time. “This is the least you can do, since I covered for you. Tell me what´s up.” Your demand makes him roll his eyes. Why the fuck does he need to justify himself in front of a stranger?

“You are better off not knowing anything.” He still doesn´t give you an answer. This pisses you off, however.

“Yah! I wanna know if I just helped a drug dealer or murderer hide from the police. That´s all. If the neighborhood gets a whim of this, I might get fired for helping a criminal,” you argue, not in the mood to lose your job. You know word spreads fast, and you are not willing to suffer negative consequences.

The boy exhales, exhausted. "I didn´t do shit. But they chased me anyway. Because someone falsely blamed me. There. Happy now?”

You take in his words and think them over. Spotting lies isn´t your biggest strength, but you wanna say you are good enough to at least know if someone is totally messing with you. “Hmph. Fine. If you are done hiding, mind leaving the cafe now? You are scaring away my customers.”

“Pff, what customers? There is no one on the streets at this hour,” he says, amused. This time, he is the one crossing his arms. But now that the adrenaline from the chase is wearing off, he can feel the burn in his legs and the cuts on his face sting a lot more.

“I don’t care. If you aren´t here to buy anything, you can leave. I am not getting paid enough for this kind of shit.” You sound quite annoyed now, which he notes. You move to finish drying the remaining mugs waiting near the sink and start ignoring him.

Out of curiosity, and because he knows he has to wait a little more until he can leave safely, he starts looking around the place. It´s a cozy little cafe, decorated with astronomy-themed things, emphasizing the concept of a cafe open throughout the night. He can´t believe people actually come and visit. But what does he know? He doesn´t usually roam around these areas. It´s too bougie for him, even if it´s just the suburbs.

When you turn around to put away the last mug and see him touch a vase he isn´t supposed to, you hurry over and snatch the piece from him. “Don´t touch that! It might break. Don´t you have manners?” Your voice sounds scolding, much to his amusement.

“Is the little princess seriously afraid I might break something? For your information. I'm not a toddler. Let me look around,” he argues.

“No. I told you to leave. And you can´t even listen to that. Why would I trust you with anything else? I don´t even know you.” Carefully, you place the vase back in its original place. Then you stare at him with a venomous look. “Leave.”

He returns your stare with one of nonchalance and then shrugs. “Fine. If it satisfies scared little Missy, I will leave.” With that, he finally starts moving towards the door. He stops right in front of it, though, and shortly looks back. “See you around.” Then he vanishes into the darkness, leaving you behind with more frustration than earlier when you started your shift.

“See you around, my ass,” you mumble to yourself, still a bit agitated by his audacity to ruin your night like this. Who does he think he is?

II. THE STRANGER ROAMING AROUND

Throughout the next few weeks, you keep seeing him here and there. Whenever you start your shifts, he would appear a bit later and sit down somewhere. Be it right in front of the cafe, across the street, or around the corner of the cafe, where the dark alley that occupies the trash cans sits.

At first, you ignored him, not in the mood for another confrontation. But then you noticed some customers mentioning a suspicious figure. And when the words “red” and “bruised” came to your ears, you knew they were talking about him specifically.

So when your boss informs you about the decline in revenue for those weeks, you´ve had enough. You want this to stop. Because at the end of the day, you will get less pay that month.

With certainty in your step, you walk outside to where the trash cans are. There he is, scrolling through his phone, sitting on the wall as if that´s his usual hangout spot. He doesn´t pay attention to your presence at first, seeing as you usually ignore him as well. But when you persist and don´t go back inside like all the other times, he finally looks up.

The surprise on his face is clear to you, even though you don´t understand it. The way you cross your arms and look at him, ready to scold him, doesn´t faze him much, either. And when he puts his phone away, ready to listen to whatever you have to say as if you are some friend ready to tell a story, you kind of explode.

“What the fuck is your deal here? Go away!” You almost yell. Almost. But because you don´t want to gain unnecessary attention, you stop yourself the second before.

“Hmm? Am I not allowed to sit here?” he asks, innocently.

“No! You aren´t allowed anywhere near this place at all. You are scaring away my customers!” The stern and serious expression on your face hardens. He is too casual for your liking.

“Whoa, didn´t know y´all had rules around here. Is it some area where only the upper class is allowed to visit?” The sudden disdain when he asks this hits you off guard.

“What? No. That's not what I meant-”

“Then I can sit wherever I want. Unless you own the whole street, which I doubt you do.” His phone is back in his hands after he says this, leaving you stunned.

“Urgh, sit somewhere else. I mean it. You are scaring away customers. And we can´t afford that.” You try again, but he doesn´t spare you any of his attention this time. “Why are you even here to begin with? I thought this wasn´t your usual area.”

"It's not,” he bluntly agrees. It has you even more confused. You are ready to ask another question, but he starts talking again. “It´s calmer here, though. And I need time to free my mind.”

His words leave you thinking. You can´t dictate his whereabouts. And his reasoning is hard to argue with. It wrecks your brain a bit because you still need him to stop scaring people. So that´s how you come up with a simple proposition. “At least buy something to drink and sit down inside, instead of roaming around like a thug. People aren´t used to that here.”

Your suggestion surprises him. He didn't expect you to invite him in like that. It steals a chuckle from him. But his answer disappoints you and makes your face drop. “Can´t. It´s too expensive.”

Defeated and done with his shit, you exhale and let your shoulders sink. With a roll of your eyes, you head back inside to resume your job. After all, you already wasted too much time on this talk.

When he later decides to sit in front of the cafe on one of the benches on the sidewalk to watch the cars drive by and make the time pass, you notice. How can you not? That fiery, red hair is hard to miss. Even when the darkness of the night slowly settles.

Thinking back on his words, you simply prepare a drink. Your fingers move quickly, going by the routine you have memorized as if it´s a habit. Your steps carry you outside a minute later, cup in hand. You set it down beside him and mutter simple words. “Get your ass inside soon. It´s getting cold at night.” Then you return inside to continue your work tasks like any other night.

The drink sits there for about 10 minutes before he actually takes it. At first, he wanted to ignore it, but it would be a waste not to at least try. Eventually, his head even turns to look at you. He watches your figure serve customers with this gentle but tired smile before you return to prepare another drink for someone waiting at the counter.

Before you can look at him, feeling as if someone watches you, he gets up and takes his leave. When the cold liquid hits his tongue, he is surprised by the taste. And he has to admit, strawberry milk is something he likes more than he thought.

III. A NAME

With repetition grows a habit. And with a habit, a routine establishes itself. The red-haired guy keeps showing up, sitting in front of the cafe, but never coming inside. It´s less frequent than at the start. But by the time month 2 hits, you recognize a pattern. It´s the days when he looks especially rough when he shows up. You still don´t know his name. But regardless of that, you set down a drink next to him and go back inside without a word.

He never gets the chance to say anything to you, either. But he is thankful nonetheless. He came to appreciate the gesture, even craving your drinks at certain times in his free time.

It´s one of your usual late shifts this time. The stranger in front of your cafe has long left, like any other customer. You are taking out some garbage when you hear a loud crash. Alerted, you drop the bag into the trash can quickly and head inside.

You can already feel the adrenaline in your system as you enter the front area of the cafe again. There is a chair fallen over, and the door is still creaking while in its last swings of coming to a standstill. You notice the vase that usually stands in the corner in pieces on the floor, and next to it, a small trail of blood.

Following the red dots on the floor, you come to find someone fairly familiar on the ground in your storage room. He seems to be looking for something. You cross your arms, as you seemingly do often, and clear your throat. “The heck are you doing?”

His head shoots around, surprised to hear your voice. He looks messed up, as always, and holds his hand with a tissue. “Sorry. This place was the only thing that came to mind,” he vaguely explains, leaving you with questions.

But then you notice the way the tissue soaks red, which alerts you again, reigniting the rush of adrenaline, even if it is for a different reason this time. “What did you even do?” you ask and hurry over to look at his hand.

At first, he doesn't let you, but when you pry open his hand and give him a stern look, he relents and lets you inspect the wound. There is a clean cut on his palm. It looks fairly fresh. Definitely fresher than the bruises on his face. You act quickly and get the first aid kit.

Ignoring his protests and anything else he says, you take out the necessary things and bandage the wound so the bleeding will stop. Then you throw a towel and a washcloth at him and look him dead in the eye. “Go and clean yourself up a bit. You will scare away potential customers if they see you like this.”

Your persistent worry about customers who never come at this hour has him chuckle. He watches you as you leave the storage room and then takes the items to actually do what you told him to.

When he is done and walks into the front of the cafe, he watches as you still sweep away remaining pieces of the vase he broke when he stumbled inside. “What did I say about not touching anything? Now the vase is broken.” Your sudden comment makes him laugh lightly.

“Sorry about that. I stumbled on my way inside,” he explains, and sits down on one of the chairs.

“What was your mission in the first place?” you ask and look at him, using the broom to steady yourself as you lean on it a little.

“I wanted to order a drink,” he tells you, as if that was the most obvious thing.

“Sure. The bloke who told me he can´t afford to buy a drink here came in to buy a drink and broke a vase in the process. Then he stumbles into the storage room to seemingly do what? Clean up the mess he made?” Your eyes tell him that you absolutely don´t believe him in any way.

“Exactly. After all, I remembered your concern for the vase. Also wanted to keep my hand from dirtying the floor with my blood even more. You catch on fast,” he returns, voice displaying the obvious sarcasm.

You chuckle at his comment and roll your eyes. It´s the first time he hears you do anything but scold him. “How is your hand? Does it hurt a lot?” you ask, actually concerned.

He simply nods in response. He isn´t one of many words when it comes to injuries. This is something to be expected for him. After all, his face is usually bruised, too.

“Why did you really come inside? You never do, even though I told you to get your ass inside when it´s getting dark outside.” Your voice echoes in his ears, and he remembers the words you said when you brought him a drink for the first time. So he debates about telling the truth.

Out of habit, he starts to play with his fingers, suddenly finding them to be really interesting. He can´t look at you, either, not used to what he is about to do. “I wanted to say thank you.”

That takes you by surprise. You didn´t expect gratitude. “For what?” The question comes out of your mouth by reflex. You know why. But it´s too late. You already asked.

“For giving me free drinks, even though I never asked for them. And covering for me when the police were chasing me,” he mumbles, finally looking at you again as his last words leave his mouth. “And I guess for treating my wound, even though I´m the one who broke a vase. I guess I owe you something.”

His expectant expression sits with you. He clearly wants to know what you want in return for the nice gestures. But there isn´t anything he could possibly give you. At least not of the things you need. Like money or a better life in general. Him acknowledging your friendliness warms your heart, however. Knowing that he kind of appreciates the gestures makes you happy.

“A name. How about you finally tell me your name?” you then suggest, genuinely curious because addressing him as a stranger or a gangster or whatever else you came up with as a nickname for him in your head was getting too weird.

The simple request leaves him speechless for a few seconds. He expected anything but nothing so simple. Usually, people like to exploit him. So this is new.

“It´s Jeno. How about yours?” He returns the question. Out of courtesy. Or maybe because he wants to address you by your name as well, the next time he thanks you for something.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, then, I guess.” You give him a smile. He returns it shortly. Then the silence stretches. And with it, the awkwardness and absurdity of the situation.

“I should leave. Don´t wanna scare away potential income.” His tone is teasing as he gets up. You want to laugh, but then he is out the door before you can say anything.

“What a weird night,” you conclude for yourself. Then you get back to cleaning up.

IV. SURPRISE ENCOUNTER

This time, you are not at the midnight cafe. You work two jobs to hold yourself over water. Life is rough when you can´t rely on anyone. But that´s why you work so hard. The cafe is one thing. Your job at the restaurant around the corner from your house is the other one.

You are leaving through the back door of the restaurant, ready to buy some groceries. The cold fall air hits you as the door shuts behind you with a loud slam. “Eggs, cucumber, bread, white rice, … what else was it?” You had a note somewhere, but your jacket somehow hides it in the deepest corner of your pocket, so you are stuck trying to remember the items as your feet carry you away from the place.

Taking the shortest route to the next supermarket, you keep repeating the words in your mind, in hopes of not forgetting anything. But then, when you want to round another corner, you see someone.

The encounter is unexpected. And seemingly one-sided, as he hasn´t spotted you yet. But what takes you off guard is the sight in front of you. There he is. Hair as messy as ever, clothes a little disheveled. He sticks out like a sore thumb. And on his arm, a small figure, dressed in a fluffy bunny onesie to protect her from the cold.

A little girl, maybe 2 years old, sits on his arm, pointing at a toy in the window of a kids’ store. A million questions shoot through your mind, the groceries on your list completely forgotten. Is that his daughter? Is he a father? But why would he do shady stuff if he is?

There is no way of knowing unless you ask him. But doing that feels wrong. You barely know him. All you know is his name and that he prefers strawberry milk over matcha. You are in no position to ask about his personal life. The fact that you are even seeing him right now is already too much out of the ordinary for you to comprehend.

You keep watching him, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Passers-by are already muttering words of annoyance as they have to pass you. And then, as if someone in the universe wants to help you with your curiosity, he turns and finally sees you, too. Your eyes grow in surprise. Then you start to malfunction. Your eyes dart around, and with determination, you start to move again, walking into a random store right at the corner.

This is weird. Too weird. The store you are in is nothing close to what your destination is, yet here you are, hiding from a stranger you barely know, simply because you saw him in the city.

Annoyed by your own incapabilities, you rub your face with your hands in frustration. The fuck are you doing? Knowing you need to leave, you turn around and go outside again. Other customers look at you weirdly as you exit the store without buying anything, but you don´t care. You look around. To the toy store, then the other side.

He is gone. Relief shows itself through you letting out a breath you didn´t know you held. Happy you can return to your original mission, you resume your walk, going to the nearest supermarket. On the way, you even find your grocery list. So with newfound happiness about your luck, you continue your day as if this surprise encounter didn´t just happen.

V. KEEPING YOU COMPANY

Another night, and another shift at the night cafe that comes to an end. You are turning the key, inhaling the cold air as you are ready to leave. Happy about the end of a long shift, all you want to do is go home and go to bed. The cafe is a good 20-minute walk from your apartment. Nothing out of the ordinary. But tonight, the streets feel especially eerie. Usually, you aren´t scared when you walk home. Tonight is different.

With quick steps, you start moving down the street. This time, you leave your headphones off, wanting to hear everything around you just in case. The first 5 minutes are fine. Only a few cars pass by. In the distance, a cat makes some noise, shortly startling you, but you keep going.

Then, after silence stretches again, you suddenly hear rustling. Your heartbeat picks up as you fasten your pace, alerted by the sound. Suddenly, footsteps follow you, which makes you even more wary. You grab your keys inside your pocket a bit tighter—just in case—and pick up the pace even more.

When you hear the footsteps get faster, too, you fear tonight is the night you will finally get kidnapped. You round the corner, straying off your usual way back, and listen again. The footsteps are gone. You wonder what the hell that was, but don´t get to think much more about it. After taking some more steps, a figure suddenly jumps out of an alley right in front of you, making you scream in surprise.

A hand covers your mouth to stifle the sound from echoing through the whole neighborhood. And then, when your surprise transforms, and you are ready to swing at whoever just scared you to shits, you recognize the face.

Halting your movements, you exhale heavily the moment his hand leaves your mouth. “Are you insane?! You scared me to shits!” you curse at him in a whisper-yell and glare at him.

Amused by your reaction, he places his hands inside his pockets and chuckles. “Relax. Nothing happened. If you didn´t start to almost run away from me, I wouldn´t have had to take a shortcut and surprise you like that.”

“Oh, so it´s my fault now for being cautious?” you question sarcastically, still looking at him as if he is insane. “Sorry that a girl is scared at night, while walking through the streets. Rightfully so. By all means, you could´ve been a murderer.”

Jeno rolls his eyes because of your dramatic antics. “Well, I saw you pass by, so I thought I would accompany you a bit. To wherever you are going at this time of the day.”

“Oh, how nice of you,” you mock and roll your eyes in return. Your feet start moving again, since you are tired and in need of a good night´s rest. You don´t care much about him, so you just leave him standing there and don´t explain anything further.

He, however, starts following and quickly settles his walking next to you. It´s quiet for the next 3 minutes, and fairly awkward. But you are too focused on your thoughts to really care.

Then, all of a sudden, you remember seeing him with that little girl on his arm the other day. And suddenly, you get curious. You don´t ask right away. But he notices that something is up. So he looks at you, trying to read your expression.

“What is it? What´s on your mind? Talk to me,” he demands, somewhat nicely. His gaze stays focused on you as you take another minute to decide whether to ask your questions or keep him and you in the dark.

“Who was that little girl the other day?” you end up asking, getting straight to the point. The question takes him off guard slightly. And because he doesn´t answer right away, you end up looking at him to try and read his face in return.

“You saw me too, didn´t you?” you add, giving him no chance to divert the conversation in any way. So he sighs in defeat, acknowledging the fact that he has to give you at least a vague answer.

“That was my little sister,” he states, and finally looks ahead to the floor, unable to face you. It´s not that he is embarrassed about you seeing him with her. But rather, that you just don´t know anything. So it´s weird for him to have someone he doesn't know that well, know about someone so important in his life.

“I see,” you answer bluntly, not really knowing what else to say. “Didn´t think you were the type to take care of such small human beings.” Your mouth moves before you can stop it. You don´t mean it rudely, but you fear it still gives off the wrong statement. “Ah, I don´t mean it in a bad way. It´s just … unexpected, given our first encounter.”

“No need to explain yourself. I get what you mean. I don't exactly give off the gentle caretaker vibes,” he says, simply. As if he´s heard this type of judgment before.

Neither of you speaks after that. At least for 2 more minutes. He keeps accompanying you on your walk home. And somehow you feel a lot calmer, now that he is here.

“What´s her name?” your voice reaches his ear again. Surprised by your interest in her and, well, his life, he looks at you.

“Bom. She´s my half sister, technically. So yeah. Whatever.” The way he trails off hints at something, but you don´t ask about his family matters. It´s none of your business. At least, that´s what you think.

“She´s cute. How old is she?” You keep the conversation going, anyway, somehow still wanting to get to know him better. You have a feeling you will keep seeing him in the future, so why not try and build a casual level of knowing each other?

Jeno thinks a little and kicks away a pebble as he keeps walking. “Around two years old. I sometimes take care of her.”

You nod in understanding. It makes sense that she isn´t his full sister. You can only assume. But from what you know about him, and the way he presents himself—full of trouble and ready for something shady—family issues are likely.

The walk continues. Silence fills the air once more as your steps take you closer to home. Eventually, when you finally reach the house you live in, you stop. He takes note of it and stops, too, curiously looking at you.

“Well then. Have a good night,” you say simply, and even wait for a response as you take out the keys you kept holding ever since earlier.

Taking note of your movements, he realizes quickly that you are home. Your sudden goodbye had him confused for just a second. But then he comes to his senses and nods. “Yeah. Good night. See you around,” he mumbles, not really looking at you anymore.

When you unlock the door and turn to go inside, you add, “Thanks for somewhat walking me home.” Then the door shuts.

He watches until the lights shining through the door windows die, turning the hallway black. He starts to move, changing to the other side of the street, ready to leave wherever his feet take him. But somehow, he still takes another look at the house you just entered, and takes note of the apartment that now has windows illuminated with light.

He doesn´t know why, but when he finally leaves the street, he has a smile on his face.

VI. YOU AREN`T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE

Tonight, you don´t have to work at the midnight cafe. Instead, you have a mission to fulfill. Your boss didn´t exactly like the fact that one of the vases in the shop got destroyed. So here you are, ready to fetch a new one you found on facebook marketplace. The app wasn´t something you usually use, but you had no money to buy a brand new one at the store. Besides, trying to find one in a similar design would have been almost impossible because it was a vintage design.

So here you are, walking down an alley that screams danger. In the distance, you can hear the booming bass of a club. There are sounds of people yelling or speaking loudly, too. It´s totally not the area you usually go to, but you have no choice. It´s either this or getting a reduced paycheck from your boss for the destruction of the stupid vase.

You clutch your jacket a little tighter the closer you get to the area of that shady club. The seller gave you an address right around the corner. Inevitably, you have to pass the entrance to the club, though, much to your dismay.

When you are about to round the corner, someone pulls you back and pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it. You wanna shriek in surprise, but when you see who it is, the air stays trapped inside your lungs. At least for a few more seconds.

Big, furious eyes look right into yours as he huffs, visibly stressed. “What the hell are you doing here? It´s dangerous around here!”

A surge of rage rises inside of you as you finally release the air from your lungs with a strong answer. “Can you stop scaring me by just pulling me into alleys or falling over me like some burglar?! I`m a woman thinking I´m about to take my last breath, for fucks sake, Jeno!”

Then you realize what he just said to you, which has you furrow your brows. “Also, who are you to tell me where to go? As far as I know, I´m an adult with autonomy!”

This time, he doesn´t play around, however. Your answer and little fit of rage don't faze him at all, as he stays serious. “This isn´t a nice neighborhood. It´s no place for you. So what are you doing here?” he interrogates, much to your annoyance.

You roll your eyes at him and look to the side, unwilling to explain yourself. After all, you have no reason to do so anyway. “What´s it your business?”

Your mumbling ticks him off a little, and he shortly lets go of you just to kick away an empty bottle lying on the ground. “Fuck, Y/N, you don´t realize where you are, do you?” His hand moves through his red hair in frustration before he faces you again. “You were the one talking about potential murderers and what not, yet here you are, in the most dangerous district of the city. Make it make sense!”

You huff, but unwillingly acknowledge his words. You know you are in dangerous territory, which you really don´t like. But you have no choice. “Urgh, I am here to buy a fucking vase. One as a replacement for the stupid one you broke the other day. So don´t piss me off by acting all protective on me now! I wouldn´t even be here if it wasn´t for that.”

Your answer leaves him speechless for a few seconds. You mean to tell him you enter this area willingly, just to buy a vase? Suddenly, he questions your sanity. “You have to be kidding me. There is no way.”

“Yes, there is. So stop being such a dramatic bitch,” you counter. He has no words after that, still too busy processing the reason you are here. But then you are the one realizing something crucial. “Why the fuck are you here? Huh? And don´t tell me this is not what it looks like. Because I am certainly rethinking my judgment of you right now.”

This time, he is the one who rolls his eyes. Now he has to deal with you nagging on him about shady business and so on. As if other people in his life don´t already do this enough as it is. “Listen, what I do doesn´t matter. I know how to navigate around here. I can protect myself. You, on the other hand, don´t. So go back home. Now.”

“Not until I get the vase!” you argue, unwilling to get lectured.

“Fuck that vase! Just go home,” he yells, not ready to start a serious argument with you.

“Stop yelling at me and telling me what to do. You´re not my Mom!” you yell back at him. And when he is about to keep going, another voice suddenly calls his name.

“Jeno? Where are you? Your match is starting in 10 minutes. You need to get ready,” the unfamiliar voice calls.

Jeno rumbles in frustration. “Give me a few more minutes!” he then yells back to whoever just called for him. Then he faces you again. “Give me your phone,” he suddenly demands.

Confused, you look at him. “No? Why would I?”

“Give me your damn phone, for fucks sake. Don't make this unnecessarily hard,” he keeps pressing, holding out his hand.

Only with lots of reluctance do you finally give in and hand him your phone, unlocking it before he fully takes it. “What are you going to do?”

He takes the device from you and opens an app. Then he types something. In the next moment, his own phone lights up. “I´m typing in my number. You’d better give me a call if something happens. I swear to god.”

Only after he is done checking that the message reached his phone does he give yours back to you. You take it from his hands, too stunned to speak by his sudden action.

“Watch yourself out here. And fucking swear you will call me or leave a message if anyone tries to do something to you. Get that damn vase and go back home. And make sure no one follows you.” With those words, and after making sure you took them in, he leaves and vanishes around the corner, leaving you behind speechless.

So much for simply buying a vase. If something happens to you, you will make sure to sue your boss for emotional distress, since he is the one who made you come here in the first place.

VII. WHERE DID YOU GO?

In the following days, you don´t see him around. Even as the new vase sits in the same space the old one once sat, you don´t have the usual routine of making a drink just for him. It´s been a week. And usually, he would have visited at least once during that duration of time.

Something feels off. You can´t pinpoint what it is, but deep down, your gut is telling you something has changed. You think back to that night you suddenly met him. He sounded fairly concerned. And well, you can understand why. Then, you also remember that other guy saying something about a match.

You can only guess what kind of match. Knowing the shady business around that area, and seeing how he always has at least one bruise somewhere on his face or near it, it clearly has to do with fighting.

The realization has you wondering. Did he get hurt? Did something happen to him? Maybe he got hurt so badly he just can´t visit. You can only guess. What you are sure of, though, is that shifts are somehow way more boring than when your special visitor comes around.

Later that night, when you reach your apartment and finally lie in bed, you look at your phone screen. The app for your contacts is open and staring at you with a bright light. You are debating. Seriously debating texting him.

But then you ask yourself, is it really your place to do that? He gave you his number in case of an emergency. You are clearly not in any danger right now. But would it be wrong to still at least text?

But then again, what would you even say? Hello. How is it going? Why aren´t you coming anymore? Where are you? Did something happen? Somehow, all of these feel so wrong. So in the end, you just turn off your phone and lay it down beside you.

While you try to sleep, you still can´t help but worry about him, though. So you really, with all your might, hope that he is at least fine and able to take care of his sister. Even if he doesn’t visit the cafe for the next month. It doesn´t matter as long as you don´t have to fear seeing the news of a young red-haired boy heavily injured and in a coma in the hospital, and his family asking for donations to pay for the bills.

VIII. DETERMINATION, OR IS IT DESPERATION?

He doesn´t visit for the following two weeks either. It really is a mystery to you. You don´t know what happened. You don´t know what he is thinking. You can still only guess. Sure, so far, there is still no news article talking about some boy who got hurt so badly that he is in a hospital. At least that should be a relief. But it´s not.

You want to know what´s going on. Why he suddenly acts as if he doesn´t know you, as if you didn´t establish an unspoken routine. You don´t understand why you care so much, either. After all, he is just some stranger who does some sort of shady business.

But here you are, closing the door to the cafe, and making your way down the road. It´s not your usual way, however. Because this time, your destination isn´t home. It´s that same district. That same road. And the same location the club is at.

You are sure you are crazy and going insane. Because why would you willingly return there when you know just how dangerous it is? Even he warned you. But then again, he is the reason why you are even going. It makes no sense.

The further you go into dangerous territory, the more alert you are. You turn around whenever something makes a sound, just to see nothing or a cat playing with trash. The way the street lamps get fewer and fewer has you clutch your keys and walk faster, too. You are scared. But your curiosity is getting the better of you.

You know basically nothing about him. You don´t know where he lives, or what exactly he does in his free time. The only thing you do know is that he has to have some sort of business at this exact club. So, to finally answer your million questions, and to also somewhat calm your gut, you have to see him. Just to know that he is okay.

When the club finally enters your view, you swallow. There are a lot of people outside. And the music is so loud, you can feel the bass even from meters away. You are sure you seem suspicious, and you know that the way you present yourself right now screams easy victim. So you steady yourself and straighten your posture. Determination creeps into you as you exhale a final time before stepping into the direct light of the club, ready to move to the entrance.

Once you are there and push past a few people, you face the bodyguard. He gives you a once-over, looking at you from head to toe. Then he asks for your business. You hesitate for a second, trying to think of something. Clearly, you didn´t plan ahead much. You are far from dressed for the occasion, so it´s obvious he would question you.

You are about to answer when someone places their arm around your shoulder. Your body tenses, and you look at the stranger as he says, “She´s with me. No need to bother.” Then, before you can protest, he pushes you inside with him gently and brings you to a side of the club with fewer people.

You eye everything you can as you pass the dancing and sweating people. The club looks like a normal party location at first sight, but you know it´s not. When the stranger comes to a halt and removes his arm from around your shoulder, he looks at you with a questioning look.

“What´s an innocent doll like you doing around here? You are not here to party, are you?” the stranger asks. He looks fairly handsome, even though he is sporting some bruises and messy silver-ish hair.

“N-no. I´m looking for someone,” you say, trying to sound as confident and steady as possible, which isn´t an easy thing to do in such a dangerous and unknown establishment.

“Looking for someone, huh? Who may that be?” he asks, a bit playful, and certainly enjoying this moment with you a little too much.

“That´s none of your business. Who are you to question me anyway?” Confidence suddenly finds its way back to you as you finally look him in the eyes while asking the question with an ounce of too much audacity.

The guy clicks his tongue in amusement at the change in your tone. But he plays along. “Well, fine. I will introduce myself to such a pretty lady. My name is Jaemin. What´s yours?”

“I see, no information without a trade. Well, I´m … I´m Snow lion.” You want to facepalm yourself for the fake name you are giving him. Snow lion. How weird a name did you have to pick? Whatever, there is no going back anymore.

“Ah, yeah, Snow lion, who are you looking for? Because I am sure I've never seen you around,” Jaemin asks, definitely amused by your choice of name. He does, however, not play around when it comes to his business.

You debate about telling him the truth. Maybe he knows Jeno. The chances are high. But then again, you don´t really trust him. He seems nice on the surface. But you never know for sure. But what choice do you really have? It´s either asking a local or just aimlessly looking for him, or asking other strangers.

Defeated by the reality of things, you sigh and give in. “Is Jeno here?” You keep the question simple. Three words. Nothing more. No unnecessary information. No possible hints at anything.

Surprised by the name he hears, Jaemin takes a look around. It´s crazy to him how someone he has never seen before demands to see his best friend. Or, well, at least asks for him. “Why do you ask? Do you wanna see him? Do you wanna fight him? Or should I leave a message?”

The sudden barrage of questions takes you off guard, so you quickly shake your head. “No. No. I just…. forget it. I shouldn´t be here.” You want to retreat, seeing how pathetic this attempt is. You are in no place to ask any of this. Why did you even come here to begin with?

“He´s not here today. But he is fine, if that´s what you wanted to know.” His words enlighten you a little. It´s disappointing that Jeno isn´t here. For whatever reason. But you are also glad to hear that he is fine. You still don´t know why he isn´t showing up at the cafe anymore. But at least now you can rest well at night without having to fear for the worst.

“I should go home,” you mumble, and look for the exit.

Sensing your sudden change in mood, Jaemin nods. “I will escort you out. Just so you stay safe,” he says, and gently pushes you with his hand on your back.

You don´t mind his touch, sensing that he just wants to help you get out as fast as possible. Deep down, you are thankful he isn´t some weird creep. Or at least he doesn´t show it to you. But when you inhale the fresh night air again and start to move away, you turn one final time and look at him. “Thanks for telling me.”

Jaemin simply nods at you, and watches you as your figure slowly leaves the vicinity. He has his phone in his hand now. Without you noticing, he snaps a pic right before you are out of sight. In the next moment, he sends it to someone with a text.

Your little Snow lion came looking for you.

[image]

IX. CLARITY

You are lying in your bed a few nights later. Jeno still didn’t visit the cafe, and you gave up trying to find a plausible reason for it. You just accepted that he may have a reason for not coming and that you might never see him again. So you try to slowly let go of him.

Even though you are trying to sleep, after your encounter with Jaemin and his reassurance that Jeno is fine, you still can’t help but worry here and there. You try to think of other things. For example, how you will manage rent next month, now that you have been fired from your restaurant job. Asking your parents is not an option for you, even if you know they have more than enough to give.

You don’t wanna associate with them. Not after realizing what matters to them most. It wasn’t you, that’s for sure.

So when you finally manage to close your eyes, no thoughts haunting you and keeping you awake anymore, and having a comfortable position under your blanket, you hear an urgent knock on your window.

You ignore it, thinking it’s part of your imagination. But when the knock sounds again, and more persistent this time, your eyes shoot open.

Within a minute, you are up and walking over to it. In your hand, you hold the first thing you could find—an umbrella—and move closer. Cautiously, you pull the curtains aside, ready for anything and anyone standing there, about to rob you.

But the moment you lay eyes on the guy in front of you, you drop the umbrella and rush forward, opening the window to let him in. “What the fuck happened to you?” Your voice echoes through your bedroom with evident worry. You quickly help him inside while he stumbles to the floor, almost falling over in the process.

There he is. After not showing his face for a good month, he surprises you with a face full of fresh wounds, all pouring blood over his skin.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he barely manages to get himself to the closest chair for some support. The moment he sits down, you are in front of him, taking in his bruised state.

One of your hands gently tips his head so he looks at you, too. The worry in your eyes takes him by surprise. But he still doesn't explain himself.

Since he´s not saying anything, and you don´t really expect for that to change, you decide something. Your feet move quickly while eyes follow you. In an instant, you are back by his side with a glass of water and some bandages.

You push the glass of water into his hand, your gaze demanding for him to drink something. He doesn´t dare disobey, seeing the fire behind your eyes, so he takes a big gulp and sets the glass down on the table beside him. Then, your hand guides his face towards yours so you can inspect the wounds more seriously.

There is a cut above his eyebrow and a cut on his bottom lip. Another bloody bruise graces his nose, and you can certainly tell that his right eye is swollen and probably going to be blue in a few hours.

You sigh in defeat before you get to work. With gentle motions and the utmost care, you wet a tissue and start to clean the wounds, not wanting them to get infected. It surprises you that he just lets you do all of this, too. But you don´t say anything, afraid he will just run away again.

While you work on cleaning his face, he takes in yours. The soft and caring gaze. The slight furrow in your eyebrows as you seemingly wreck your mind on who did this to him. And the way you bite your bottom lip a little while concentrating on not hurting him. He doesn´t understand why you care so much. But at the same time, he feels this fire burn inside of him when he sees you.

He doesn´t know what it is. Admiration. Gratitude. Or something else. But he knows that this isn´t a given. And that he doesn´t want to miss it.

When you are about to put the first band-aid on one of the bruises, his hand suddenly moves and stops you. Your eyes instantly flow to his with a questioning look. Frustrated with how to start the conversation, he sighs, gaze trailing to your floor.

“Jeno, let me at least take care of your wounds. If you don´t want to tell me what happened, that´s fine. But at least let me help you.” You break the silence. He is surprised that you are the one to speak again first. After all, he was thinking of the right words to do it instead. But what surprises him even more is how gentle and worried you sound. It makes his eyes snap back to yours instantly.

After debating a little more and considering your genuine worry, he lets go of your hand and lets you continue. Thankful for it, you keep going. You bandage the bigger wounds and apply ointment to the soon-to-be bruises. Only when every cut is treated do you sit back and sigh.

“Why did you come here?” you eventually ask, unable to take the silence that settled again any longer. You really wonder what goes through his head. He doesn´t show up for a month. Makes you think he forgot about you. Even though you technically aren´t even friends. But now he shows up at your window in the middle of the night, all bloodied and bruised up.

“I didn´t know where else to go,” he mumbles, not looking you in the eyes. It´s embarrassing for him to admit. But there is no way he could show up at the club like this. None of his friends are home either, and his own home isn´t an option. He´s too afraid he will do something stupid if he stays alone. So in his haze, he ended up at your place, not even sure what to hope for.

“What happened?” You try again, hearing the edge of vulnerability in his voice as he speaks for the first time tonight. Your eyes stay on him, afraid you will miss any micro expression that can give you more context.

Jeno starts balling his hands into fists as he tries to calm himself down. Only thinking about it makes his blood boil again. Sensing the turmoil that´s growing inside him, you lay your hand on his in hopes of calming him down. “It´s okay. You aren´t there anymore. I´m here with you.”

Your words and gestures ground him a little, and he finally speaks. “My Mom´s boyfriend started a fight with me. We disagreed on something.” He gives away little info, but you can tell it´s something bigger than he lets on. You have a hunch about what they disagreed on, so you carefully ask.

“Was it about Bom?” The moment your words leave your mouth, his whole body tenses. You know he cares a lot about her based on his reaction and what you know so far. His nod only solidifies your suspicion.

“My Mom isn't exactly the best at taking care of her. She's quite neglectful, so I often take care of Bom instead. Her new boyfriend likes to add his two cents about her as well, and it pisses me off,” he explains, trying his best not to explode right in front of you.

“Where is she now?” you ask, sensing that maybe something might have gone wrong.

“She´s with my aunt. I brought her there before coming here.” His voice sounds rough, tired. But the anger still sits deep inside of him.

Relief floods you when you get to know that the little girl is somewhere safe. “I get that outsiders who try to dictate important situations suck ass. But I am glad that Bom is somewhere safe now. And I think, for now, that´s what matters most,” you try to reason, in hopes of calming his mind just a little.

Jeno tries. He really does. But the fight he had with that bastard still sits close to the surface. He nods regardless, agreeing with your sentiment. “I know. But the audacity is really just, urgh. It´s ridiculous.”

You don´t know if your next words are wise. But you still want to give him the option. So you say them. “If you want, you can let it all out. Vent to your heart’s content. I will simply listen and won´t judge you.”

There is a pause in his breathing. He takes in the meaning of what you said. And then, as if something opens inside of him, he lets go. He starts rambling on about how his mom is an irresponsible woman, ever since his father left them for his career. He tells you about how she got knocked up by some stranger and had Bom a little over 2 years ago. Then she suddenly showed up with that new boyfriend of hers. The guy is the reason she started drinking again, and no matter how often he tries to tell her to stop, she just doesn´t listen.

“I have no idea how I managed to get the money to move out from there. But things are so messy. I try so hard to get Bom away from her. But she somehow always finds a loophole. The police don´t do shit. And then that asshole has some sort of lawyer. I don´t know what to do anymore.” He ends his rant with those words, moving his hand through his hair in frustration.

You sit there, taking in everything he tells you. A family that broke up because someone important left. A sudden pregnancy and seemingly no one who feels responsible for the child besides her older brother. A new love that puts his mom on the wrong path and changes her for the worse. An unsafe and messy environment for both children. And even though one of them is an adult now, there is simply nothing he can do because the system fails him.

“Is that why you are at that club so often?” You eventually ask, turning the topic in a different direction. For clarity.

The boy in front of you nods. He is on his feet by now, pacing around in hopes of calming himself down. “I fight for the money. The more I win, the more I earn. So I frequent the place. It´s tough business, but it´s the only option I have.”

You want to say something, but he interrupts you before you can. “And no, other jobs don´t work. I didn´t go to university. I barely managed to get through High school. They don´t want me anywhere near them, because I already look like trouble. People speak. And news travels fast. You sure bet everyone knows about my messy situation before I even get the chance to apply properly.”

You sigh in defeat, knowing fully well that he is right. Once someone has dirt on you, they will make sure everyone else knows about that. You´ve had to experience it, too.

“Do you feel a bit better now?” Your question makes him stop pacing, because he actually takes the time to consider. He does feel a lot less angry now. Somehow, having someone who listens and doesn't try to give unnecessary advice did help after all. So he turns to face you and nods.

You smile in return. Then you look around, trying to think of what to do next. “What are your plans now?” you eventually ask. It´s almost 3 am.

The boy in front of you shrugs. He hasn´t thought that far, to be honest. So he wrecks his brain. “I am sure some bridge will have some space for me. Or maybe a bench in the park.”

Horror strikes your features. There is no way you will let him sleep under a bridge or on a park bench. The moment he sees your face, he starts laughing a little, amused by your evident disagreement with those suggestions.

“Are you insane? There is no way I will let you sleep out in the open. It´s getting cold at night these days. You will freeze to death!” you argue, letting it slide that he is having fun with your reactions.

“Any better suggestions?” He turns to look around your apartment, again, crossing his arms while he waits for an answer. Your walls are simple, just like the rest of the flat. White furniture, a few pastel colors here and there, pictures of you with your friends on the wall, and a frame of a family photo that includes a short message below it. He takes them in briefly, but the photo sticks with him. Especially when he reads what it says.

“If you don´t feel too uncomfortable with it, you can sleep on my couch, you know. It´s just one night. And it makes me feel better to know that you are not about to freeze your toes off,” you say as you finally clean up the mess from cleaning his wounds.

He considers it. Looks at you with a debating expression. Sees how you kind of avoid his gaze as you throw away the bloody tissues. And then says, “Alright. If you don´t mind my dirty clothes on it. I don´t want you to complain about me ruining your stuff.”

That earns him another scandalized expression from you. “Who do you take me for? I'm not some clean-freak who cries about the tiniest dust corn.”

Jeno lifts his arms in defense, trying not to laugh at you. Then he remembers something. While you start to take out a blanket from your closet, he suddenly asks you, “Why were you at the club the other night?”

You stop in your tracks. At first, you don´t know what he means. Then you remember your little act of desperation. You already tried to forget about that, again. The encounter had been embarrassing enough. But now you wonder how he knows. You still test him, though. “What do you mean?”

"Don't try to deny it. Lying doesn't suit you, snow lion.” His words ring in your ears. Especially that stupid nickname you gave yourself. Now you wonder even more how he knows. Didn´t Jaemin say he wasn´t there?

You turn around slowly, blanket in hand, as you march over to the couch to throw the piece of fabric onto it. “I was looking for you. After all, you decided not to show your face in front of my workplace anymore.” You admit. There is no need to make any excuses. Not after he vented to you. “I got worried.”

The mumble of your last words is barely audible, but he still hears them. Somehow, it warms his heart a little when he realizes that you went somewhere dangerous, just because you noticed that he broke the routine. And the fact that it made you worry about him. So he decides to explain himself a little. After all, he had a reason to keep his distance.

“I wanted to keep you out of trouble. That´s why I didn´t dare show my face anymore. I didn’t want anyone from my background to find you and ruin your life.” He admits simply. No laying it out in careful words. Just the truth.

“What do you mean? I just got the vase in that district. That's all. Why would that ruin my life?” you ask and turn to face him.

“People there are very perceptive. They definitely noticed you. And if they saw you with me, they would trace you just to hopefully find a vulnerability on my side,” he explains. “Y/N I have a lot of enemies. They will do everything to hurt me. And I simply wanted to keep you out of my world. So I decided distance was the best solution.”

You are stunned by his revelation. Because even though he didn´t outright say it, his words still proved that he worried about you just as much as you worried about him. And this makes something dawn on you. You are no longer just acquaintances.

“I see.” You don´t know what else to say. So you just get everything else ready. Eventually, a yawn escapes you as you fill yourself a glass of water and take a sip. The boy who now lounges on your couch notices and chuckles.

“I guess I´ve held you up long enough.” His words earn a nod from you. You make your way back to your bed, the exhaustion hitting you fully now.

“Sleep well. And don´t worry about anything. Feel at home, I guess,” you mumble, getting cozy under your blanket. Jeno chuckles a few meters away from you, but stays silent after. While you drift off to sleep, he can´t help but stay awake a little longer. His rage from earlier dissipated. And he is glad he has somewhere warm to sleep tonight. He is thankful for your help and worry. But deep down, something gnaws at his heart.

X. LITTLE PRINCESS

A few days later, you are on a walk to clear your mind. Of course, the morning after Jeno crashed at your place, he was gone before you woke up. You only saw the blanket neatly folded and a note that said “thank you” next to it. The gesture was cute, but for some reason, you still hoped he wouldn´t be gone. Then again, he has no reason to stay any longer. After all, you are just getting to know each other.

Not fretting over his decision to leave any more, because, honestly, it´s really not that big of a deal, you find yourself walking alongside the park in your area. It´s one of your favorite spots in the city because it´s a place full of nature. It helps you destress and free your head when you feel overwhelmed. And that´s what´s currently going on.

Your mind is fully occupied. The things that happened are a lot to take in, and you started questioning your role in all of this. You don´t really have any answers for anything. Except maybe that Jeno is someone you care about more than you would like to admit. And his story with his sister pulls at your heart because now you really want to help. But you have no idea how.

You don´t even know if he wants your help in the first place. Maybe you are overstepping boundaries. But you know, looking away and not doing anything will bother you more. So here you are, trying to free your mind in hopes of coming to a decision.

The candy you bought before coming here isn´t helping you either. And as nice as the view of the park and the ducks that are on their way back to the small trench in the middle of it is, they are not having the strongest effects.

Giving up on your walk, you start to turn the corner to go back home. You walk past other people and dodge some running children before you reach the trail that guides you in the right direction. Still caged in your mind, you barely register the things around you. It´s like you are on autopilot.

That´s when your mind suddenly plays tricks on you. You can hear laughing. And right after you think you hear the man responsible for your mental restlessness. But you know it can’t be. At least you want to believe it can´t. Because you really never know what the universe has in store for you. So when you think you hear Jeno again, you finally look up, in hopes of proving yourself wrong.

There is a playground to your left. It´s not big, but it has everything a child´s heart desires. At first, you see another pair of parents with their son near the slide. But when you look behind the wooden structure that has the slide attached, you actually see a guy with familiar red hair. And he is pushing the swing gently, making the little girl sitting on it laugh.

You stop in your tracks. Your mind goes blank for a second before you start wondering how it´s possible that you keep running into this guy. Before he first stormed into the cafe, you had never seen him before. So why does he suddenly cross paths with you seemingly every time you decide to leave the house?

Knowing that there is no answer to this question, you stop thinking about it altogether. But then you start watching them. Jeno is really gentle with the little girl. He talks to her and listens to her demands when it comes to pushing her more. You know she is only a little over 2 years old, but you have to say, she is fairly talkative and speaks well for her age. It´s adorable seeing them interact, too. The way she laughs whenever she comes back down, swinging in his direction just to get pushed by him forward again. You can see the care in his controlled power. The way he makes sure not to go too hard so she wouldn't fall. It makes you smile, too.

You keep observing their dynamic, not hurrying to make a move anytime soon. You don´t want to interrupt and intrude. That's why you decide to stay where you are. Eventually, Bom urges to go to the slide. She kicks her legs, ready to jump off the still swinging swing. But Jeno steps in and catches her before she has the chance to hurt herself. The tiny girl giggles when her brother lifts her up and into his arms. The sight is warming your heart so much, you register too late that the boy is turning around. It´s only when he stops in his tracks and looks at you with a frozen expression of surprise that you realize that you are standing there like some creep, watching two people play peacefully.

You freeze up, too, not daring to move anywhere. You try to avert your gaze. And plan your escape route so you can just bolt away, avoiding explaining yourself. But the hurried demand from the little girl for her brother to finally bring her to the slide has you stay exactly where you are.

Jeno snaps out of his short freeze-up quicker than expected and walks over to the chute. He sets the little girl down and lets her slide down the small slope. The girl laughs cheerily, waiting for her big brother to pick her up and set her down at the top again. But he doesn´t react quickly enough, too occupied by still looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“Oppa!” she says, trying to catch his attention. But because he is too focused on something else, she slowly turns and gets off the slide, and walks over to him to pull at his pants to try and get his attention that way.

When Jeno feels the pressure of someone pulling at the fabric of his pants, he finally looks back down and sees the somewhat grumpy expression on Bom´s face. He is about to let out a chuckle when the little girl points at the girl he´s been staring at and asks, “Who that?”

Her pouting expression, mixed with the grumpy furrow of her eyebrows, softens his heart. But then he registers her question, and he is back to looking at you all over again. This time, however, he struggles to find the right term to explain who you are. He thinks and considers a few options. But ultimately, he settles for the simplest thing. “That´s a new friend I made.”

His answer satisfies the small girl. For now. And she is back to looking at you, too. You feel a bit like you are trapped in some sort of spotlight, which makes you feel just the tiniest bit uncomfortable. But you can´t bolt away now. It would only make this more awkward than it already is. So instead, you opt for simply waving at Bom and showing her a sincere smile.

The girl turns back to Jeno and lifts her arms. Understanding her want, he lifts her and sets her down on top of the slide. Before sliding down, the girl looks at you for a second time and then finally moves.

You try to contain the laugh that’s daring to surface. Bom is truly adorable with her dominant behavior. And you can tell that she has Jeno wrapped around her finger. Clearly, he will do everything to make her happy. What you don´t expect is the fact that this time, she doesn't go to her brother. No. She walks towards you. And before you even get the chance to do or say something, she already has her hand wrapped around your fingers and tries to pull you with her.

Perplexed, you give in and follow. And in the next moment, you stand next to the red-haired man, lifting his baby sister so she can slide a third time. “This… is unexpected.” He breaks the silence between you two, clearing his throat right after to get rid of the hoarse sound that came out.

“Hmm? What is?” you ask awkwardly, not looking at him whatsoever.

“The fact that she just went up to you and pulled you with her. She usually never does this,” he explains, watching Bom walk up to him, and then lifts her to the top again.

“Wait, really?” You can´t believe that´s actually true. And because you are in disbelief, you turn your head and look at him with raised eyebrows.

He turns to face you, too. His nod is short but serious. “Bom is wary of strangers. So this is new.”

You inhale and return your gaze to the small girl. “I guess I should feel honored then?” you question, not expecting an answer to that.

Silence settles between you for a few minutes, in which you either watch or lift Bom to the top, over and over again. Then, when the awkwardness finally fades a bit, you take the courage to start a real conversation. “So, how are you?”

The question takes him by surprise. The genuine interest in your voice isn´t exactly something he is used to. He considers lying. Trying to avoid a deeper conversation about his personal issues. But then he remembers how you helped him without questioning him. How you listened and gave him the option to vent. And how you let him stay the night and treated his wounds, even though he is technically just a stranger. So he decides to be honest.

“Could be better. A lot is going on at the moment,” he says, not sugarcoating or dramatizing anything.

Trying to ask if everything is fine with his family situation would be stupid on your end. So you stop yourself from asking that generic question. You know it´s not. He´s told you enough to guess that things are still the same, and that it´s likely why he is outside with Bom right now. “Did more happen?”

Your bluntness takes him off guard. He knows you aren´t stupid. But he didn´t expect you to ask straight up if anything else threw him off these past days. He doesn´t know if he wants to reveal it to you, either. The playground doesn´t exactly feel like the best spot to talk about these kinds of things. But much to his confusion, he feels oddly secure, so he ends up answering honestly, again.

“My mom threw her debt onto me. So I am currently kind of trying to hide from some loan sharks, while also taking care of my sister.” His words are dry. Simple. As if he´s talking about the weather. The moment you hear them, though, your head turns to face him. And horror is written all over your features.

“You are kidding me, right?” you ask in disbelief. You know he´s not. But the way this situation turned into something even worse has you baffled. How can someone be so unlucky?

“I wish I were,” he chuckles and looks at his feet. “It´s really stressing me out, actually.”

He is laughing about the ridiculousness of the situation. But deep down, he is struggling to hold on. Because he has no solution to this problem. It´s impossible for him to earn that much money in such a short time. Especially because those shady guys are already at his neck, tracking him down, and bothering him about a deadline to finally pay up.

You keep looking at him with the most serious expression in your inventory. Your arms are crossed, and your mind is still comprehending the reveal. Immediately, you try to find solutions, too. But nothing comes up. You open your mouth regardless, ready to say something. But he interrupts you.

“No. I don´t want anyone to help me like that. It makes no difference. I would just have to repay the debt to someone else.” You close your mouth again upon hearing him say it. It makes sense to you. So you don´t argue against it.

Defeated, you watch Bom play at the play frame, while your mind is racing. “You know, if it helps in any other way…you can always crash at my place or ring me up if you need an open ear for anything. There isn´t much I can do. So at least let me offer emotional support.”

Your gentle words reach his ears, and he has to process them a little to fully grasp your offer. He looks at you with wide eyes and is met with your determined gaze. You are totally serious about what you just said. And you make that clear to him with your honesty.

It takes a few seconds for him to respond. But eventually, he mutters few words. “Thank you.”

Before the conversation can keep going in any way, Bom is back in front of them and takes your hand into hers again. She pulls you with her, your feet relenting before you can protest. So you follow her and help her climb the monkey bars, holding onto her, and focusing on every move so she wouldn't fall.

Jeno watches. His mind is a mess. Even more than before. You are truly something in his eyes. It´s as if the universe sent him a guardian. First, you lie for him in front of the police. Then you take care of him without demanding anything in return. And now you are playing with his sister as if she´s known you for months, and offering him support throughout his sticky situation. What did he do to deserve this kindness?

Later that afternoon, when you had to say goodbye because you had to get ready for your next shift, he walks back home with Bom. The tiny girl is holding onto his fingers like always, guiding the familiar way. She is oddly quiet. Until she breaks her silence and surprises him with her words.

“I like friend.”

He looks at her with a surprised expression, ready to ask her to repeat that. But then the little girl stops and lifts her arms. He does what he always does and lifts her up. Then he looks at her. “You like Y/N?”

Bom nods. Her innocent eyes looking into his eyes with her usual sincerity. Jeno takes in her response, and then exhales a heavy breath. If his sister likes you, he is sure he should trust you, too.

XI. FIRST VISIT

Can you come over?

[location]

It´s a simple message. Unexpected. And seemingly normal. But your gut tells you something is off. Jeno never texted you before. This is the first time. It being a direct location with this seemingly simple request tells you something is up. So you get ready quickly and walk the distance to what you assume is his apartment.

When you reach the address, you look through the names on the doorbells, trying to find his unit as fast as possible. That´s when you realize you don´t even know his last name. Frustrated, you take out your phone and dial his number instead.

It rings. Once. Twice. A third time. Then, someone picks up. “I´m here,” you say. There is no answer. In the next moment, the door in front of you makes a sound, and you push it open.

“Third floor,” is all he says before he ends the call. His tone sounds hoarse. You can definitely tell that something has shaken him up. You are already glad he even decided to text you in the first place. So you don´t hesitate and climb the stairs as fast as possible.

On the third floor, you stop in front of the slightly open door. You debate on just entering or not. But then you hear a crash, so all your doubts vanish, and you just enter anyway. Your shoes are off within seconds, and your jacket is thrown over the shoe rack before you hurry into what you assume is his living room.

His place is small. Simple. Messy. But you don´t care. Your eyes dart around until they find the man in question. He is busy sweeping away shards of broken glass when he sees you. And you have to say, he looks rough. Before he gets to say anything, you ask him, “What happened?”

The slump in his shoulders is apparent. He keeps you waiting, taking his sweet time to throw away the broken glass and put away the dustpan. Then he faces you, looks at you shortly, and sighs in defeat. It takes him visible effort to open his mouth and explain himself. You see how hard it is for him to accept the option to lean on you and tell you what´s going on.

But then, when he finally feels ready to open up, his first words awaken every fiber of your being. Alert flashes through you, and you understand why he looks like such a mess.

“They want to take away Bom.”

The words keep repeating in your head. His effort to try and keep it together tears your heart in two. Your mind is racing. Questions over questions cloud it. You try to ground yourself. And then you ask for specifics. “What do you mean? Who are they? What exactly do they want to do?”

Jeno´s hands ball into fists. His jaw clenches. Then he looks at you. “My mom and her stupid boyfriend want to get rid of her. So they plan to take her somewhere. They won´t let me see her anymore.” The tension in his body is evident. It takes every bit of effort for him to stay this calm and not destroy something. “I don´t know what to do. It´s not like I can take care of her on my own.”

You swallow. You know how much she means to him. And you know she can´t stay with their mom, either. You try to think up things, but your mind comes up with nothing. At least for now. “They are cruel for trying to separate you from her. Jeno, I´m so sorry they are doing this to you.”

Comfort is what you try to give him for now. Solutions can come later. It´s important that he calms down first. So you carefully move closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder, gauging if he accepts the gesture. When he doesn´t move away, you keep it there, gently rubbing the spot in hopes it calms him down.

“It probably feels impossible to fix, but I am sure we will find a solution. For now, let´s try and calm down a bit.” You speak in a soft tone, carefully using each word in hopes it helps in any way. You can feel the tension below your palm. The way his muscles can´t relax because he is still on edge with all the frustration.

The boy inhales, trying to stay levelheaded. He knows you are right. But he can´t help but feel hopelessness. “What am I supposed to do? My life is too messy. There is no way a lawyer would speak on my behalf. I can´t even afford one. My mom knows how to play these games. She will paint herself as the victim. And then once Bom is gone, I will never see her again because the family that takes care of her will demonize me.”

His worries and fears pool out of him. You feel the strain in your chest while listening to him. “Jeno, I know shit is messy. Sure, your way of earning money is sketchy as fuck. But there is no denying that you care for your sister dearly. The way she clings to you when you handle her is proof enough. Any judge will recognize that.” You try to silence his destructive thoughts first, in hopes of lessening the fear.

“I am sure it won't come far enough for Bom to live with another family, either. Stuff like this takes time. They will investigate the situation at your mom´s home first, too,” you keep going, quickly realizing you are rationalizing too much and not focusing on emotions enough.

Jeno keeps quiet while listening to your words. They don´t exactly soothe the ache he is feeling right now, but he notices the effort and that you´re actually trying to help him. Still, the burning rage that slumbers deep inside him wants to escape.

“As I said, all of this is pretty hard to bear. Parents who are too absorbed in their own business are a poison ready to spread into your own life, ruining it with every step. I understand how that feels. But even though this feels like a hopeless situation, I can reassure you that we will find a way to fix this mess.” You finish your little talk of motivation, hoping it at least did something to soothe him.

But unexpectedly, the boy next to you suddenly lashes out. He moves away from you and looks at you with accusing eyes. You can´t point out the reason for this sudden behavior change, but the way he goes off on you doesn´t faze you much at all.

“You don´t understand anything! I have to take care of everything myself! My family has always been poor! Things never go in my favor! Life has always been a bitch! You, with your rich family throwing every cent after you, have no idea how it feels to provide for a lost cause of a mother and a baby. You don't know how it feels to struggle like this. When the world seems to be against you, and keeps showing you how little it´s worth to try and keep surviving.” To end his frustrated speech, he kicks a chair to the side, redirecting his frustrations against an object.

While he goes off on you, you just stand there, face neutral and unbothered, watching him. You have no idea where he got the idea that your life had any prestige, but it doesn´t matter at this very moment. When you see him pant a bit and sense that his verbal expression has done something to the tension inside his body, you cross your arms. “Are you done?”

He expected you would yell at him. Fight him. Protest against whatever he just accused you of. But your unbothered response takes him off guard. Out of reflex, he looks at you with a surprised face.

“Look. I don´t know where you got all of that from. I am not saying life hasn´t been shit. Sure, I haven´t experienced the exact things you did. But I know how it feels to carry everything on my own shoulders. The universe doesn´t magically give way out of poverty and struggle. Hell, it dumps even more on you when you think it can´t get any worse. What I was trying to make clear, however, is that you are not alone anymore. I am here right now because you asked me to come. So stop sabotaging yourself by helplessly lashing out like a pathetic dog and let me help you go through this!”

Your voice echoes firmly. He listens to everything you say, immediately regretting judging you. He acknowledges the effort, and his shoulders slump in defeat. “I´m sorry. I just- it feels hopeless,” he stammers, slowly sinking to the floor. You move closer to him again and crouch down next to him, placing your hand on his shoulder once more.

“It´s okay. I get it. Just know that I´m not your enemy. I'm on your side.” You reassure him, showing him that you mean what you are saying. “Give me a few days to gather some data. In the meantime, maybe check if any of your extended family has a way to lend a hand.” Hearing your suggestions, he accepts them. So he nods along and gives up trying to fight you, finally letting you in fully.

When he has calmed down, and you two sit on the small couch now, drinking some water, you break the silence that had settled. “By the way, if you are referring to that family portrait in my apartment. I may be from a prestigious family. Sure. They are rich and known throughout the city. But I have nothing from that. I chose to go my own way. And because my way isn´t what they envisioned for me, they pretty much cut me off. I haven´t spoken to my parents in over a year. And I refuse to visit them. They don´t accept me for who I am, so I won´t give them an ounce of my time.”

Your explanation makes sense to him, and he feels even worse for judging you like that when you haven´t ever judged him for his mess of a life. “I´m sorry for assuming things. I don´t really know anything about you. And I… I don´t know why I suddenly felt the need to try and push you away.”

You stop him before he can go on even more. “Jeno, I get it. That was a defense mechanism, and you were trying to self-sabotage. It´s fine. I know you didn´t mean it. If you want, I can tell you more about me, if it makes you feel more comfortable opening up about yourself.”

He looks at you, now visibly more relaxed, and gives you the first smile in a while. “I would appreciate it. Not gonna lie. Who exactly are you? You are a bit reckless sometimes, that I know. Turning up at my workplace just because I didn´t show up and endangering yourself. That´s the kind of person you are. But I know nothing surface-level. So enlighten me, please.”

You chuckle at his lighthearted tone, even slapping his arm for the implied teasing. “God, stop acting like I´m the one who´s insane. But okay. I will tell you the boring facts about me that you don´t know yet,” you say, and start listing things. You tell him that your family owns a successful business. That you have an older brother who despises you because you stray from what your parents want. That your grandparents are the only people you regularly call. That you had to work your ass off ever since high school because you wouldn´t get any support from anyone. And that you want to study social work one day to help kids in need.

For the rest of the evening, you keep talking, getting to know each other, and relaxing to the sound of loud neighbors and mediocre tap water. It´s nothing fancy, but it´s special regardless, because it´s your way of bonding and getting closer. The trust that the two of you are building. It´s necessary. And both of you are thankful that the other didn´t turn the opposite way. Because Jeno truly doesn´t know what he would've done if you weren't here, fighting with him.

XII. THESE GIFTS AREN´T FOR YOU

It´s roughly two weeks later when you meet up with Jeno again. Through frequent texting, you´ve gotten to know that his aunt also tried to talk to his mother about Bom and that he is currently taking her out on a playdate to the playground. So, while ready to meet them and enjoy some time together, you quickly enter a shop and buy a few small things on your way there.

15 minutes later, you speed walk around the corner, a bag in hand, as you wave once you see Jeno standing there holding his little sister. The moment he sees you, he starts smiling, bringing Bom´s attention to you as well. The little girl stares at you with a curious gaze when you greet her brother.

“I see you managed to get a hold of her. How is she?” you ask, slightly out of breath.

“She is fine. My aunt visited them every day insistently because she was scared they would do something bad,” he explains. And even though relief is obvious in his tone, you hear the underlying exhaustion from the anxiety he has faced for those days.

“Well, I´m glad your aunt is so supportive. Anyway, let´s enjoy the great weather. Bom, are you ready to play?” You divert the conversation, determined to steer away from the depressive reality. Life is too short to dwell on things, and besides that, you have good news to share, too.

Bom, who has been watching you for the past minute, gives you a toothy smile and approvingly claps her hands while nodding when you mention playing. You grin back at her and then speak up again. “Guess who got you a small present?” The question lights up her eyes even more. And when you take out a small box with a doll inside, she eagerly takes it from you and shows it to her brother.

Jeno at first plays into the enthusiasm of his little sister. But once Bom is busy inspecting the toy, he gives you a questioning look that´s accompanied by some disapproval. When he mumbles to you, you give him a look of question as well, raising your eyebrows. “Why did you buy her something? I don´t want you to use your money on us.”

“What makes you think I would spend a dime on you, huh? I brought a gift solely for your sister. Because I like her and I think she deserves something that makes her happy while she has to endure the circumstances. This has nothing to do with you,” you retort, seeing how his defenses want to go up. So you immediately break the chance for that to happen. “Can a grown woman not buy whatever she wants with her own money?”

The guy in front of you takes in your words and then rolls his eyes. He has to stop himself from chuckling at your response. Even though he´s gotten to know you a bit better, he still has to get used to your sassiness sometimes. And because he has no good arguments against your word, he simply accepts his defeat. “Fine. But that grown woman better not overdo it with the presents. I don't want Bom to get spoiled too much.”

“Alright. I can work with that.” You give him a sugar-sweet smile and then start to walk towards the playground. “Now then, if your feet aren´t set in stone, can we finally get going?”

“Are you saying I´m holding us up? How offensive,” he jokes in return and starts walking as well. “But fine, the lioness has spoken, so I will pick up the pace.” You roll your eyes at his teasing and keep going. Bom is still inspecting the box with the doll, totally in her own world. And Jeno settles right next to you, adapting to your pace as you get to the playground in comfortable silence.

When you finally arrive, he sets the little girl down and takes the box from her hands. He explains to her that he will take care of it while she plays so the doll won´t get hurt. And since Bom is satisfied with his reasoning, she happily runs off to play in the sand.

You come to a stand next to Jeno, keeping watch on the girl as she innocently minds her business. You feel happy inside. This normalcy gives you an out from your own troubles. Taking in a deep breath you relax a bit as the sun shines onto your skin. Jeno notices. He´s eyed you a bit after he got done putting away the doll into his bag. “How are you doing? You got fired from that second job you had a while ago. Any new jobs you´re starting soon?”

“No. Still looking for something new. I am so glad my boss at the cafe hasn´t also fired me. He´s kept an eye on me ever since I had to bring a new accessory for the cafe.” You tease the topic of the vase breaking once more as it has become a bit of an inside joke between you two. Jeno chuckles when he hears it and looks at the floor for a few seconds before returning his gaze to you.

“Sucks I guess. But hey, at least now you will do your job properly. Another criminal hiding behind your counter would surely get you fired.” The moment he is done speaking the sentence, you hit his arm with your fist. You have an amused smile on your lips, but you couldn´t let him off the hook that easily.

“I thought you were no criminal?” You turn to face him and see the grin on his face, mirroring your lighthearted demeanor.

“It´s because I'm not. But I can´t help but tease you a little. I am still sorry about that vase, too. Truly.” He shortly looks at Bom, to see if she's still alright and busy playing. Then he looks back at you.

“Sure you are,” you say, making both of you laugh. “You know, I´ve got good news for you.” The sudden change in topic has him listen to you intently. He´s curious to hear what you have to say, so he looks at you with raised eyebrows.

When you face him and see the look on his face, you can´t help but think of a puppy. But before you drift off into unserious conversations again, you want to tell him first. “I´ve spoken to a lawyer. I may not associate with my family much, but I took the courtesy of using my name a bit. And well, the chances are high that your Mom won´t get away with what she´s doing. I just need to know if you are willing to fight this battle against her and her boyfriend.”

Your face turns more serious. And once you are done speaking, you wait for his response. You don´t mind if he takes a moment to fully grasp what you just said.

He thinks over the facts and the stakes. This whole legal battle that will happen because of his mother´s stupid decisions. It´s going to be stressful and he knows it will cost him a lot of nerves. He will have to rely on other parts of his family. But when he looks at Bom playing so carelessly he knows what he has to do.

“I won´t be able to take care of her on my own. And I am sure, with my history, a judge won´t grant me any custody or stuff like that. I don´t have the money to support her.” He lays out his honest thoughts to you. “But I hope my aunt has the heart to take on the responsibility. I know she is off well, and she would definitely give her a safer home. So, if you are willing to help me out with this, I can´t say no to a better life for my sister.”

You don´t say anything unnecessary after that. You simply nod. “I will give your contacts to the lawyer then, so she can reach out to you.” You pause for a moment after saying that. “You are doing the right thing, Jeno. She will thank you for fighting for her when she´s older.”

“I know. I can´t help but see myself in her. I don´t want her to end up like me.” There is an unreadable tone in his voice when he says this. But you can see the way his inner child mourns an adult who never fought for him when his mom started drifting off. So you put your hand on his shoulder.

“She will see you as the best big brother she could ever have. And you will be able to see her grow up without having to worry about her.” Your words make him smile. He looks at Bom again and then imagines her in her teens, complaining about boys being stupid. How she cries after her first heartbreak. And how he will probably beat up whatever guy dares to scare her. “How can I repay you for this?”

The question takes you off guard. It´s readable in your expression. You recover fast, however, and set one thing straight. "Don't worry about the money. The lawyer owes my family a favor.”

Jeno nods in understanding and decides not to question you on this. He simply wants to trust you, so he expresses his gratitude with simple words. “Thank you.” And while it sounds like a simple saying to anyone else, you hear the double meaning. Thank you, for helping me with this, and being there for me and my sister.

You stay with Jeno and Bom for a while longer and end up pushing the little girl on the swing for at least 30 minutes at some point. You only say goodbye to them when the sun starts setting, again with the reason of having to get ready for your shift at the cafe. The girl hugs you happily when you part ways, and Jeno waves you goodbye with a happiness readable in his expression. He only starts to turn around and walk away when he no longer sees you.

On his way back to his apartment, he carries Bom in his arms, walking at a relaxed pace. The girl is visibly tired, and definitely dozing off. The way she stays so unusually quiet is the tell-tale sign for him. 

As he walks through the familiar streets, he eventually picks up voices behind him. He doesn´t pay them any mind at first. But when they come closer and he starts to hear the threatening jabs that are too obviously directed at him, he senses the danger.

His pace quickens, but he can´t run because of his sister. The guys behind him pick up the pace as well, and eventually corner him to the side of the wall when they reach him. He immediately recognizes their faces and instinctively shields his sister with his arms. 

“What do you want?” Jeno´s voice is ice cold. The grinning stares of the men in front of him loom over him, clearly trying to intimidate him. Unsuccessfully. Bom, who´s sleeping in his arms, luckily doesn´t notice any of this, too deep in her slumber.

“You know what we want. Pay up for that slut and we won´t bother you anymore,” one of them says in a twisted manner. He clearly enjoys this way too much.

“You have two weeks. If we don´t see the money by then, we will have to take something else as payment.” The second guy grins and glances at the kid in his grasp.

Jeno immediately changes his posture and gives him the deadliest stare he´s ever shown someone.

“Oh don´t worry, the kid is not on the list of things we are interested in. But maybe that girl that´s been hanging around you. She´s young. She will surely sell well.” The third guy says. That´s when it dawns on Jeno. They´ve been watching him. So they can have leverage over him.

The moment the realization sets in, he knows he has to do something. His lack of a response makes the 3 guys in front of him chuckle. “Two weeks, kid. If you can´t bring us the money by then, you know what's up.” And with those words they leave him standing there.

He starts walking again eventually. His pace is quick as his brain thinks up ways to earn the money as fast as possible. He knows he will have to take every fight he can get. He also knows you surely won't like that when you find out about it. But he has no choice.

On his way back, he carries his sister as protective as ever while his brain plays out every way the next month will go down. He feels like he is slowly losing it. Why is the universe so unfair to him? One good message gets overpowered by a bad one a few hours later. And then, he starts to wonder just what did he do wrong to deserve all this?

XIII. YOU WOULDN`T FIT IN - YEAH? WATCH ME

Only a few days have passed. This time you are on your phone, busy on a call with Jeno while doing laundry and other stuff. His excuse for not actually meeting up was that he has no time, but here you are, talking for at least an hour already, the call seemingly never ending.

“Say, are you still doing that shady club fighting thing?” you ask as you hang up a t-shirt.

His voice sounds a bit raspy when he responds, but you blame it on the staggering connection that decided to cut off the call for several seconds here and there. “Yeah. Why are you asking?”

“I feel like the bruises have become less. But maybe you just learned how to use make up. Or you stopped sucking at fighting. Either would explain it,” you retort, clearly teasing him. You have no idea if he´s good or bad. You´ve never seen him fight.

He stays silent for a few seconds, somewhat shocked by your bold statement. “Hey, you can´t judge my fighting at all. You´ve never seen it. Getting hurt is part of the business. But yeah, I´ve had less fights these past few weeks. Was too busy to attend any.”

“Why do I suddenly get the intuitive, knowing urge that this will change in the near future? Jeno, are you up to something?” You´ve always been perceptive. And something in the way he just said that makes your senses go haywire. There is definitely something.

His lack of a response confirms your sudden suspicion even more. So you pry. “Jeno. Please tell me I am wrong with my hunch.”

“Uhm… I just decided I am simply not going to answer that question,” he diverts. And you can imagine him looking around in his apartment as if he is trying to avoid your gaze.

“Oh my god, Jeno. I swear. That weird ass job of yours is going to kill you one day. Remember when you showed up at my window? I thought you surely will turn up with broken bones the next time. And then after that I am at the hospital having to identify a body because they can´t recognize you anymore.” Your voice cuts through to him, overly dramatic.

“You are overreacting. There is no way that will ever happen. It´s not like you can judge me on this anyway. As I said. You´ve never seen me do my thing. I´ve never lost,” he argues, rolling his eyes upon hearing your hysterics.

“I mean, how would I know? I don´t walk around those areas. And I don´t have time to go clubbing either. I can only assume based on the amount of cuts and bruises on your face.” You hang up the next t-shirt when you hear the boy chuckle.

“Yeah, well you wouldn't fit in anyway. Even though, maybe I should show you just how well I do in my fights,” he laughs, not fully realizing what he just indirectly said.

“Excuse me? Are you inviting me to watch you fight? While insulting me at the same time?” Your voice rings higher, and you stop in your tracks, still holding up a clothing item while you wait for his answer.

Jeno swallows when he realizes his mistake. Now he is pacing around in his living room, trying to figure out how to keep you away from the club scene. “I mean, forget what I said about seeing me fight. I don´t need to prove anything to you, so I will just let you doubt me when it comes to my capabilities. And what can I say? you look…too innocent. You would stick out with your cutesy style. Everyone will think some school girl strayed away from her usual route home.”

“…” The boy swallows when he gets no response right away. He knows he definitely said something wrong. His blood freezes the moment he hears your delayed response, however. “I see you still know so little about me. You know what? Give me a time and a date and I will prove you wrong.”

“What? No. I am not going to do that. I don´t want you there. It´s too dangerous.” He tries to stop you. Desperately. The scene really is nothing he wants you to get into.

“Are you scared you will embarrass yourself? That you will lose the fight or whatever? All because a woman shows up?” You intentionally try to rile him up with your words, hoping this tactic will work. Because now he has you curious. You´ve been to the club before. It wasn´t exactly your cup of tea. And yes, maybe you were a bit scared when you had to get the vase. But you feel like this is a challenge. And now you refuse to back down. You want to prove him wrong.

There is a sigh on the other line. You are guessing he is massaging his face in hopes of calming his nerves while trying to find a solution to the problem he created. But he is aware of your stubbornness. So he slowly gives in, not fond of you trying to talk him down like this, either. “Fine. On Friday, I have a match against some tough guy. If you wanna see it, be there at midnight. But seriously. You will stick out like a doll in a cage full of animals.”

“Ah yeah? You sure? Watch me. I´ll be there. And you better win. Or I will hold this against you every time you show up with a bruise or cut after that.” You accept the challenge. And now, with determination burning in your blood, you are already plotting your next step.

“Prove me wrong then. But I´m telling you. This scene isn´t for you.” He still argues, frustrated about this situation that he created. But now there is no going back. And because he doesn´t want to escalate the situation even further, he finally redirects the conversation to something else.

۶ৎ

That said Friday, you meet up with one of your best friends in the early afternoon. You´ve told her about your mission for the night a few days ago, and had to explain to her your whole endeavor with Jeno. She´s surprised about you blindly supporting a stranger, but simultaneously starts teasing you about possible attraction.

“Yuqi stop, just because he looks good, doesn't mean I'm instantly interested in him. We are friends now. Nothing more,” you argue while you style your hair.

“Friends now, lovers later. It´s not impossible. And I´m telling you, you are already interested, even if you don´t wanna admit it. You never would do things like right now under any other circumstance,” she argues back, totally smiling while she curls her hair.

You can´t deny that you are certainly going out of your way for him to try and fix things. “But that's just because of Bom. That girl is so cute. And she deserves better. It pains me to see them struggle.”

“Oh his sister surely is part of it. But she can´t be the only reason if you already started doing stuff before that. I mean you said you already willingly went into that club because you wanted to look for him out of worry. Who does that as a simple acquaintance?”

You have to bite your lip when you hear her mention your desperate attempt at searching for him. Your silence is answer enough for Yuqi as well, so she chuckles and keeps curling her hair. “Hey, see it for what it is, and simply enjoy it.”

You roll your eyes and keep styling your hair before you start on your make up. “Anyway, I can´t believe that he thinks I can´t fit in in a simple club. Who does he think he is?”

“That´s what I´m here for. We are going to dress up and prove a man wrong. Simple as that.” Yuqi chuckles and goes over to your wardrobe. “It´s time you finally wear one of those slutty skirts you have.” The moment her words leave her mouth she turns around and holds out a short mini skirt and a glittery top that will definitely accentuate your curves.

“And you are sure that will suit me?” you ask skeptically. In theory, you know that all the girls you´ve seen in the club wore similar things. And you know that these clothes will fit you well enough, too. But you´ve never been one to wear short things, instead opting for more comfortable ones and an academic style.

Your friend scoffs when she hears your doubt. “Excuse me, where did your confidence go? Of course it will. You are a nonchalant queen, so just wear your head up high as always.” Her words make you smile as they fuel your confidence. So you chuckle, too, forgetting about the uncertainty.

Once your make up is done, you get ready and put on the skirt and top and some necessary accessories that compliment the outfit. To round off your look, you put on some high heels and take the purse Yuqi brought with her. Before you two leave the house, you quickly reapply some lipstick and grab your jacket.

Then you start your walk to the club, taking your time and talking about lots of other things since this evening also serves as time to catch up. You haven´t had the chance to see her lately, due to all of your shifts piling up. So doing this makes you even more happy.

۶ৎ

The bass is booming, and the music echoes loudly. Sweaty bodies mingle, and alcohol and drugs are part of the menu for the night. The club looks exactly like the last time you went there. This time, though, you blend in seamlessly. The scene isn´t as scary as before. With Yuqi by your side, you are actually a little bit excited.

Jeno said to be there at midnight. It´s exactly 30 minutes before that. Still enough time is left to properly get used to the vibe and the people there. Yuqi takes your hand the second you stride through the crowd to get close to the bar.

“Let’s start with a drink to loosen up,” she says and orders something for both of you. In the meantime, you look around properly, and take everything in.

In the middle of the main room is a fighting cage. You already know what’s going to happen there later. Behind it the DJ is playing music, getting everyone in a good mood and making sure it never gets boring. Surrounding the cage, most of the people are dancing and having fun.

When you look upstairs you see the balconies and how more people are chatting, drinking and dancing there, waiting for the fight to start and setting their bets on who will win. In one corner you see Jeno’s face showing up on a screen. Next to it, bold letters show the ‘VS’ and right after another face of a guy follows. Below it reads ‘Christopher Bang’.

You swallow, seeing the fierce stare of the second guy. Worry creeps up your spine, but before you can do anything or overthink, your friend puts her hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“Here, your drink,” she says and looks around while taking a sip from the sweet concoction. “The music is really good. Not gonna lie, I thought it would suck.” Her chuckle barely rings through to you, due to the loud bass. You nod in agreement, however, and keep scanning your surroundings.

Then, in one corner, you spot a familiar face. The guy who talked to you last time—Jaemin—is standing there, reviewing some papers with another guy. You keep watching him for a few seconds, curious as to what he is doing, until he suddenly looks up. As if he sensed you looking at him, he stares right in your direction with a questioning gaze, trying to figure out who is watching him so intently.

Automatically, you grab Yuqi´s hand and start walking towards the guy. The girl follows you, trying to ask what´s up, but you are too focused on snaking through the crowd to get to your destination. Once you reach him, you stop in your tracks, Yuqi almost bumping into you and spilling her drink. She keeps looking at you with a questioning gaze.

“What do I need to know about the fight?” Your voice reaches Jaemin´s ears boldly, and he points his attention fully on you the moment he hears it. The way his expression stays hard, tells you he has no clue who you are. The guy he´s been talking to, senses the tension and quickly moves away, not in the mood to get in between whatever is going to happen between you two.

“And who are you?” he asks, fairly serious. A contrast to the last time he took care of you in the club. As a response you keep staring at him, not backing down and giving him the satisfaction of having the upper hand. Your face reads figure it out and he certainly likes the challenge.

After intense eye contact and him eyeing your whole face, it finally clicks for him. “My, oh my, snow lion. What are you doing here again? I didn´t recognize you at all.” His voice rings through to you over the loud music, even though it takes you a few seconds to fully register his words.

“Drop the nickname, bunny boy, and answer my question. What do I need to know about the fight?” You sound as serious as ever. And Yuqi can´t help but simply observe the interaction, too stunned about the fire behind your eyes, herself. Jaemin on the other hand, takes in your words.

He starts to grin. And then, a maniacal laugh escapes his mouth. He did not expect you to hit him with a nickname at all. And your choice brings him even more amusement. “Oh, I see why he likes you. You are a crazy one. But hey, if you want me to call you by your name. How about you tell me?” The grin on his lips doesn´t vanish as he keeps his confidence in front of you, not at all intimidated or scared by your change in demeanor.

“It´s Y/N. Now would you please enlighten me? Time is limited.” Your face stays straight. There is barely any emotion besides the seriousness and a hint of curiosity.

“Straight to business. I like it. Well, what exactly do you want to know? It starts in roughly 20 minutes. And I sure as hell wouldn't recommend that you stand too close to the cage. Unless you want your clothes ruined by blood,” he says, slightly relaxing his shoulders, now that he knows who you are.

“Everything that´s necessary. How this whole business works. How the fights are structured. Whatever you know about today´s opponent. Everything.” There is a beat of worry in your voice as you list a few things you want to know. And the guy in front of you recognizes the intent behind your curiosity.

His eyes soften a bit and he places a hand on your shoulder, feeling the tension in your muscles. “Aright, Y/N. Listen closely. There are 3 rounds. Whoever gets knocked out first loses. And the winner earns the bet money. These guys fight with fists. No gloves or anything. Almost everything is allowed. Chris is a strong dude. But I know that Jeno will succeed. He´s just gotta stay focused. That´s all.”

He leans closer to your ear so you can fully hear him. “If you want a good spot to watch him, you gotta go right over there.” Your eyes follow his finger that points to a certain spot near the cage with less dancing people close to it. “Now, relax your shoulders a bit, sit your sweet ass down somewhere, and wait for the action to start. There is no need to worry about him. He´s faced worse opponents.”

When he´s done telling you all this, you look at him again. Your expression is unreadable. You kind of want to say something, but your mouth stays closed. A simple nod is what you give him before you face Yuqi and signal her to move elsewhere.

Before you are fully out of earshot, Jaemin yells one last thing at you. “Enjoy the show, tiger.” Then he hurries off. After all, he has to mentally prepare his best friend for the fight.

“What a weirdo,” Yuqi tells you as she follows you to the corner Jaemin showed you. “So, we are going to watch this fight. I finally get to see this Jeno guy for the first time. And then what? Are we just going to dip and dash?”

You shake your head. “First of all, that idiot has to prove himself. After saying confident shit, I have to witness it for myself. And after that, depending on how the fight goes, it would be too bad to go right after. We just got here. and we didn't get dolled up for nothing, did we? So might as well enjoy the music and ignore the shadiness of the place.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The girl smiles at you and sips on the straw of her cocktail again. “Ay now try yours already. You haven't taken a sip yet. Tell me how it tastes,” she then urges and you laugh at her silly ways.

۶ৎ

Right when the clock hits midnight, the lights in the club dim down and the DJ's voice echoes through the main hall of the club. People are cheering excitedly when the showdown finally starts. The music starts matching the atmosphere, too, and you feel your heartbeat pick up speed with it.

The moment all of this starts, the vibe in the club fully changes. You can feel the adrenaline rush, and out of instinct you look to the cage that´s illuminated by show lights to emphasize the main stage.

You don´pick up anything the DJ is saying. Only when he drops the name `Lee Jeno` do your ears start working again and you start to hear everything more clearly. A door opens close to where you are standing with Yuqi. And then cheers erupt.

There he is. Walking proudly to the cage. His hands are wrapped. He´s wearing white shorts, a matching tank top, and over it a white jacket. Jeno looks fierce. You can sense that he hasn´t spotted you yet. Your eyes follow him, and when he enters the cage, he greets the watchers as if he's been doing this his whole life.

Then, on the other side, another door opens, and out walks a guy you assume is Christopher Bang. He looks the same as the screen shows him, serious face, scary expression, broad. He´s out for blood. You can feel it. In contrast to Jeno, he´s dressed in all black. His hands are wrapped, and you realize Jaemin was right. No gloves on either of them.

Your feet carry you closer to the cage as Chris enters it. He does a similar greeting to the watchers and then, surprisingly, he shakes Jeno's hand in a fair manner. Then you notice how Jaemin enters the cage, while some other guy goes up to Chris as well.

Of course, Jaemin is Jeno´s friend. It´s only natural that he will support him and help with strategies and so on. You notice how they are whispering something. Then, Jeno stiffens visibly. His gaze sweeps through the crowd more precisely, until his eyes land right on your figure.

You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. He stares into your soul, but you can´t read his thoughts one bit. He just looks at you for a few seconds until he averts his gaze and focuses on the task at hand.

“Wow, he looks really scary, but also strangely hot.” Yuqi´s unserious remark snaps you out of your haze and you turn to face her with a look of disbelief. “What? It´s just an observation.” The girl shrugs and goes back to drinking her cocktail while scouting out the crowd and watching what happens inside the cage.

Strangely, you can´t help but chuckle. Her lighthearted demeanor is exactly what you need to hold out in this kind of environment. And you are glad you asked her to tag along after all. Coming alone wasn´t an option from the start. Choosing the right company was a challenge. You didn´t want to drag anyone into this. But best friends are there for such adventures. And Yuqi never says no to anything when it means she can help you with whatever you´ve set your mind on.

Your focus returns to the main stage. Jaemin and the other guy have left, and now it's just the two fighters left inside. Jeno has taken off his jacket and is now stretching and seemingly cracking his knuckles one last time before shaking out his arms and wrists. He seems ready to fight, and the intimidating guy across from him does too. 

The DJ shouts through the hall another time, riling up the crowd and getting everyone to scream and yell in excitement. And then, a countdown starts. Before you know it, both men are in action. Their movements are fast and coordinated. You watch intensely,looking out for whatever happens. 

The moment the first hit lands you gasp out of surprise. Sure, you knew what this was about and how this was going to go down. But seeing it in real time, witnessing how two humans intentionally hurt each other has your stomach churn. 

Your hands clasp your mouth when Chris tries to hit Jeno head on. The latter barely moves in time to avoid getting hit fully, and swings forward right after, wanting to get a hit in himself. Your eyes follow their movements as if you´re in a trance. And slowly, the cheers and screams around you turn into messy background noise. 

The first round seems easy. Both guys are full of energy. Punches and hits are exchanged. Feet move fast. But the longer it takes for either of them to take the other down, it seems like Chris has the upper hand. 

Jeno seemingly focuses more on defense. Blood is already dripping down his cheek from an earlier graze of Chris´ fist. You have no idea about the logistics of any of this, but your gut is telling you he isn´t fully focused. And it concerns you. Your instinct of wanting to help is activated, but you know you can´t do anything but watch. 

Seconds feel like minutes, and minutes like hours. When it seems like Chris is finally getting more hits in, a bell rings, stopping the first round. Both fighters retreat into the corner to regain some composure and get a short break. The DJ announces some observations to heat up the atmosphere even more. Jaemin stands on the sideline, shouting something to his friend in hopes of helping him regain focus. 

Your heartbeat is still the loudest thing in your ear. Everything feels like it´s happening in slow motion. You don´t even realize the bell is ringing again to start round two. Only when Chris and Jeno meet in the middle once more, does it finally set in.

You keep watching, and somehow you feel like there isn't much change compared to the previous round. Your body moves on its own, and before you can comprehend it, your mouth opens to shout. "Didn't you want to prove yourself?! How are you going to pay your bills if you can´t win?!” 

There is nothing too serious about your statement. It's simply to rile him up a little. To show the stakes. You don't even know if he heard you. But seconds later, there is a change in posture and strategy. Jeno starts attacking more fiercely. He doesn´t give Chris as many chances to hit him and instead takes over, punching him with more power and showing clear dominance. 

A critical moment happens after. Jeno lands a hit near Chris' jaw, disorienting him for a bit and making him stumble backwards. You fear the red haired guy will brutally attack him in this moment of weakness, but the bell rings again. Round 2 is over. 

With only 1 round left, you swallow your fear as much as possible. It´s not that the fight itself is scaring you. It´s more that you can´t predict the outcome and you are simply worried about Jeno. His nosebridge is bleeding and you can see the area above his left eyebrow swelling. Besides that, his knuckles are bleeding, too, and you can guess that he has more injuries than just those. 

Chris looks no better. His lip is split and he has a cut on his forehead that's obstructing his vision due to all the blood streaming down his face. The area that Jeno hit near his jaw looks like it's turning blue, too. Over all you start questioning why men willingly hurt each other. 

While observing them on their break you feel eyes on you. You look up to see who it is, and when you are faced with his eyes on you, you freeze up again. He looks away before you can do anything else. Because of that you don't see the way the corner of his mouth lifts the slightest bit. And when the bell rings for the third time, there is a different kind of air around him. 

You notice the final shift. For some reason you feel slightly more at ease. However, there is no time for you to relax just yet. The fight isn't over. Everything is still possible. The shouts and cheers around you turn louder with each passing second, as fists meet and punches are exchanged. 

Chris tries to take over with offense another time. but this time Jeno doesn't let him. He swiftly blocks his hit and returns it with one of his own. When he manages to punch his opponent's side, and notices the backwards stumble, he adds another aimed hit towards his right side. 

The pain of the punch sends Chris to his knees. He´s ringing for air and coughing, trying to steady his breathing. A countdown starts. The muscular guy tries to get up. Jeno paces around, ready to give him another hit, just in case he manages to get up on time. But there´s no need to. 

When the number 1 sounds, cheers erupt louder than ever. Jaemin and some referee storm into the cage, while some others move to Chris to tend to his injuries. The referee lifts Jeno's arm into the air, declaring him as the winner. And when Jaemin gives him a towel and something to drink, you finally let out the breath you´ve been holding. 

He won. Thankfully. It's not like you ever doubted him. But seeing a fight up close, in its brutal nature, and having to fear for more and more injuries, you can´t help but constantly worry. 

While the crowd is loud and happy, high on endorphins and serotonin, Jeno only has eyes for you. He doesn't care about the burning of his cuts, the ache of his bruises or the cheers of the people around him. The fact that you showed up after all, and even tried to motivate him when he struggled, is the only thing that matters to him. 

۶ৎ

When he finally steps out of the cage and moves to the door that brings him backstage, you watch him like a hawk. He glances at you for a few seconds, too, before vanishing in the other room, Jaemin close by his side. The latter looks at his friend proudly, and recognizes the missing focus in him. "Everything good? For a moment, I thought you would lose, not gonna lie.” 

Jeno nods and starts discarding the wrapping on his hands to reveal the wounds. “I´m fine,” he simply says, then wipes away some sweat and blood from his face. 

“Luckily your little girlfriend stepped in and decided to redirect you into focus,” Jaemin teases and grins at him with a knowing look. 

“She´s not my girlfriend,” Jeno defends, purposefully not looking at the other boy, annoyed by his sudden want to tease him. 

“But you are definitely interested in her. I can feel it. I bet she's waiting for you outside,” Jaemin says, leaning onto a table as he watches Jeno get ready for a shower. 

Jeno just rolls his eyes annoyed. He chooses to ignore the guy and takes a towel. Then he leaves the room to take a shower. When he returns a while later, he takes the usual first aid kit with him and starts putting ointments and bandaids onto his wounds. Luckily they weren´t too big or tragic, so taking care of them is easy for him. 

Unlike usual, Jeno doesn´t take his stuff and gets ready to leave after. He instead decides to check his phone and then stands up to move to the door he left through earlier. Even though Jaemin was teasing him about you, he definitely had to see you before he goes home. So his feet carry him through the crowd a minute later. The bass is booming, people are bumping into him while enjoying the music. But he doesn´t care. 

His eyes scan the crowd. He makes sure to take in every face he sees. And when he finally spots you, he moves towards you, swiftly traveling through the dancing bodies. There are some who want to gather his attention. They shout his name, pull at his arms or clothes. But he ignores them all, too determined to reach you. 

Yuqi sees him first and taps your shoulder, then points towards him. She's been dancing with you for a few minutes already. Once the fight was done, there was nothing else for you and her to do. 

When your gaze follows where she points, and you see Jeno walk towards you, you can feel a pull in your heart. One that tells you to meet him in the middle. Yuqi notices the longing in your eyes, so she tells you simply, “Go to him. I will wait here for you.” 

You smile at her thankfully. Then your feet move forward. You stumble through the people surrounding you, one meter at a time. You are focused on the red haired guy. So is he. And when you finally meet, he greets you with a soft grin. “You actually came.” 

“You asked me to. Even though you took that back. But I hate losing a challenge. So here I am.” You return his grin. Your hands find his as he reaches out for you, your thumbs brushing over his bruised knuckles. “You had to prove yourself to me, after all.” 

"True. And I did prove myself. Thanks for the motivational call out,” he remarks and watches your thumbs move over his torn skin. “I´m sorry for getting those unnecessary bruises.” 

His sudden apology takes you by surprise, which shows in your expression. “Why are you apologizing about this when we both know it won't be the last time you're going to look like this?”

He lets out a chuckle, looks away and then back at you. “I don´t know. Just felt like I owed it to you. You are the one who patches me up when you see how I look.” 

You roll your eyes, but smile regardless. “Well, now you are here, already patched up, and looking like a lost puppy. So if it´s not ruining your plans, maybe you wanna dance with me?” You don't know why you ask him this. Something inside of you just made you do it. But there is no taking it back, so you wait for his answer. 

Jeno chuckles, but nods in agreement anyway. To him you look quite cute, even though you are certainly dressed to impress rather than show your soft side. He takes your hands properly and pulls you closer to himself before he starts swaying around with you. “I have to say, I was wrong when I said you wouldn´t fit in. I'm surprised even. You look like you belong here.” 

You shrug proudly and take his invitation. “Told you so.” Your voice sounds confident as always, your nonchalance returning to you, pushing away the worry from earlier. "Should've believed me when I said it. You better not doubt me again.” 

“I won´t. I promise,” he says, moving closer to your ear so you can understand him better. The gesture makes your heartbeat pick up a little. Luckily, the lights in the club mask the sudden flustered state you found yourself in because of it. 

You keep dancing with him. Your bodies eventually move closer to each other, partly because of people pushing against the two of you, and partly because you naturally gravitate towards each other. You don´t talk too much more, either, and just enjoy the moment as it is. 

Later that night, you check your phone. Seeing the time, you look for Yuqi and see her chatting with Jaemin and some other guy you don´t recognize. “I see Jaemin is hooking up your friend with one of his,” Jeno´s voice rings in your ear and you almost wince in surprise. 

You turn your head to him. “Maybe it's time for us to leave. It´s already late and I feel like I've abandoned my best friend.” 

Jeno nods in understanding and takes your hand to lead you towards her. On the way, he suggests taking both of you home. “I usually don't stay anyway, so it´s fine.” 

Your eyes grow wider when you hear him say that. Did he only stay because of you? You wonder, choosing to not comment on it, though, and instead tap Yuqi´s shoulder once you reach her. She happily turns around, clearly a bit tipsy. Jaemin quickly catches you up on what´s happened. And then, you suggest to her to take your leave. 

Yuqi slurs a little, but agrees in the end, feeling a bit tired from the evening. You take her hand in yours, say goodbye to Jaemin and his friend, and then lead her out of the club. Jeno follows you after explaining to his friends that he´s leaving too, ignoring the teasing from them. 

Outside, the cold air hits your warm body instantly. You clutch your jacket on reflex. Jeno notices, pulling you a bit closer to him. “We should call a taxi. It's too far to walk all the way,” you mumble, slightly shivering. 

“But I live further away from the club than you do. Our ways split eventually. How will you get home the rest of the way?” Yuqi asks, surprisingly sober now. You are guessing the cold has sobered her up a bit. 

“I will just walk the last bit. You are the one with alcohol inside your blood, though, so I would prefer for you to take the taxi all the way home,” you argue, which makes her nod in understanding. 

“Alright,” she simply agrees. Then you call the taxi. 10 minutes later, when it finally arrives, the three of you get inside it. You tell the driver the address and tell him to drop you off at a certain point. After that, the driver starts the engine and gets going, not interacting much more with you. 

The drive passes in comfortable silence. Jeno is sitting beside you, looking out of the window or occasionally glancing at the driver through the rearview mirror. Yuqi is leaning onto your shoulder, almost drifting off into dreamland. You don´t mind either, instead enjoying the warmth and the comfort of having these people with you. 

When you reach the drop off point, you say goodbye to your best friend and wish her a good rest of the night. You demand from her that she texts you once she gets home and Yuqi just laughs, reassuring you that she will do exactly that, but that she wants you to do the same, too. 

You nod in agreement and wave at her one last time before closing the door. You wait until the car is out of sight before you start your walk back to your apartment. Jeno follows you quietly, enjoying the silence of the night. Somehow he feels content about just walking with you. In his mind he will quickly drop you off before returning to his own place and heading straight to bed. 

“I have to say…today was quite fun,” you admit at some point, breaking the silence and catching his attention. He looks at you with surprise but lets you continue. “I thought I would be scared, but actually, I feel like I can handle more than I think. Doesn't mean I support your shady job. But that´s not my point right now.” 

Jeno laughs at your clarification about his job but accepts your opinion regardless. “Well, I don´t want you to visit too often either because it's still dangerous. But I guess I don´t mind you in my world as much as I thought I would.” 

“Don´t worry, I don´t have time to go clubbing and watch show fights every weekend anyway. But promise me one thing if you keep doing this.” You stop your walk to look him in the eyes firmly. He stops in front of you and returns the gaze, waiting for you to tell him. “Don´t overdo it. If it´s because you have financial struggles, let me help you find a different way of getting money.” 

Jeno bites the inside of his cheek. Because in his understanding about his life, he knows he can't promise you that. Especially now that he has a deadline to get the money to pay off his mom´s debt. He can´t tell you this, though, so he keeps quiet. 

You notice the hesitation and how he avoids looking at you, when he slowly nods. So you press on. “Jeno, I mean it. You getting injured constantly takes its toll on your body. At some point you might not return home.” 

“I know, I know. But I don't know if I can keep this promise. There is nothing I am good at besides fighting. My background keeps me from opportunities. People judge me before I can prove myself,” he argues gently, looking at some streetlight a few meters away. 

“I get that. But still. Please try to keep it limited,” you plead and wait for his reaction. 

He sighs, then looks back at you and nods. “I will try. But I can´t promise anything.” 

You accept what you can get, so you let the conversation fade and finally look for your keys in your bag. You´ve reached your apartment when you stopped. And now it´s time for you to go inside. 

Jeno wants to say goodbye to you and tries to leave quickly, but you hold his hand before he has the chance to flee. “Stay the night.” Your words echo in his head when you utter them. He´s surprised by your sudden demand. “It´s late. And your place isn't the closest. You´ve stayed before, so why not crash at my place and leave in the morning?"  

Jeno rings with himself, but eventually accepts your proposal. He gives a silent answer by stepping closer to the door of the house, signaling for you to open the door. Somewhat happy that he accepts your invitation, you smile and open it. The walk up the stairs is quick and before you know it, you are taking off your shoes inside of your apartment. 

The boy looks around the familiar place. His thoughts drift off while you remove your make up and accessories, giving Yuqi a quick message that you arrived safely, too. He inspects the family picture he saw last time and actually recognizes the unhappy feelings behind your facade when he sees you standing with them in it. 

When he finally snaps out of it, you are done getting ready for bed and waiting for him. He wants to move over to the couch and grab a blanket like last time, but suddenly, you stop him. Your eyes express certain emotions he can´t fully place. And when you speak to him, he feels like the air gets knocked out of his lungs. 

“If you feel comfortable with it, you can share the bed with me. There is enough space and I feel bad letting you sleep on the hard sofa after seeing that fight.” Of course, it´s worry. Or at least that´s what he thinks. Seeing you stare at him so innocently, and sounding so concerned for his comfort, he can´t help but accept the offer. 

So instead of lying down on the couch, he moves over to the free side of your bed. He watches you get under the covers first, only hesitantly following. It takes him a few minutes to ease the tension in his muscles. There is no way he wants to overstep any boundaries. 

But when you mumble a soft “sleep well” to him and turn off the lights to relax fully, something loosens in him. He gets comfortable under the blanket and feels the warmth that radiates off of your body. Having you so close to him. Sensing the trust you put in him. He notices the way his own heart feels at ease. 

He wants to treasure this feeling. Having you by his side, in this vulnerable state. There is nothing but care flooding through his system. Even in the darkness of the night, he watches you fall asleep, before closing his own eyes. And then, with the comfort you grant him, he lets his body fully calm down. 

That night, he falls into the land of dreams with a quiet mind. No worries. No fears. Just warmth. And knowing that someone is with him. That he´s not alone. And that someone actually cares about him. 

XIV. THREAT

It´s another normal night at the midnight cafe. Only 30 minutes are left until your shift ends. You are already cleaning up when two men in suits enter the cafe. They don´t look around much, heading straight to the counter. One sits down on the chair in front of it. The other stays standing. 

“Good evening,” one says. The other nods swiftly. 

You quickly put away the rag, then put on your customer friendly smile. “Good evening. What can I get for you?” Something is off about these men. Your gut feeling tells you. But you can´t pinpoint anything. 

"Coffee. Black," the one standing says. 

“Two,” the one on the chair adds, holding up his index and middle finger. 

You quickly get to work, preparing them like you usually do. While you do, you can feel eyes follow every move you are making. You try to keep yourself calm, which is easier said than done in this situation. 

“Quiet here,” one suddenly starts. “It fits you.” 

This makes you stop in your tracks. You look over your shoulder, a little surprise evident in your expression. But you try to stay neutral. So you simply answer, “Excuse me?” 

The guy who said it, smiles at you. “You seem like someone who prefers the quiet.” 

His redirection makes you feel weird. Your alarm bells are ringing inside your mind, yet you keep a smile on your face. You decide to no longer get into the topic with him and instead place their cups in front of them. 

The one standing puts the money on the counter. He pays in cash. No need for change. You quickly put it away into the cash register. 

The seated man takes a sip of his coffee and nods approvingly. “Long shifts,” he then says, directly looking at you. “Must be tiring. Especially when you´re busy during the day, too.” 

His companion smiles at the mention, while you seem more and more confused and your gaze sharpens. “What do you mean?” 

“Spending time with your friends. Helping them out. You are young. Yet very busy,” he continues.

The other man finally sits down and rests his arm on the counter. Then his gaze returns to you. He suddenly starts smiling. It makes your stomach churn. “You´ve been hanging out with that boy quite often these days.” 

Your breath hitches. Your body freezes a little. This is taking a turn you don´t feel ready for. 

“You are good company,” the first one says. “He seems calmer these days. Less…reckless."

This makes you swallow. Have they been following you around? What do they want from you? Your pulse starts racing while your hands try to busy themselves in hopes of somewhat calming your nerves. 

“It´s strange how people change when someone suddenly starts caring for them,” his companion adds, a twisted grin spreading on his face. 

Silence stretches between you. You don't know what to say. But the sweat on your palms is increasing by the second. 

“You are a smart girl,” the one who paid softly starts. “Smart enough to understand how much connections matter. And that decisions rarely only affect one person.” 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Any words you can think of are stuck in your throat. 

“Especially,” the other adds, “when there´s a little sister involved.” 

You feel very nauseous all of a sudden. The world is spinning a bit. 

"What was her name again? Bom?” He lifts his coffee and takes a sip. Unbothered. 

The first one glances at the clock in the corner of the cafe. “It´s almost closing time,” he states. 

“Y-yes.” you somehow find your voice in this situation. 

They stand up suddenly. One fixes his jacket. The other looks at his wrist watch, then at the door. Slowly, they take their steps towards it. 

“We like it when things work out on time,” the one in the back starts, looking back at you still frozen at the counter. “So we hope you make the right decisions…without thinking for too long.” 

The other holds the door open and waits for his partner. Before he leaves, he turns to you, too. “We don´t want anyone else to get involved, do we?” He says, gives you a smile, and then vanishes into the darkness of the night. 

You feel like your heart is about to jump out of your chest. It takes you a few seconds before your brain catches up. Then you slowly sink to the floor, clutching your apron while you start to breathe a little faster. Eyes wide in shock. 

They know who you are. Where you work. And what role you play in his life. 

XV. SOMETHING HAS TO CHANGE

You burst through the doors of the estate. Your walk is quick. Steps are echoing through the entrance hall. You ignore the house keeper you haven´t seen in over a year. There are rooms you intentionally skip. You don´t have the time or the patience to run into your parents. The destination being someone else´s office. 

The moment the door to the room on the highest floor opens, the man on the couch reading a book looks up in surprise. His wrinkled face lights up upon seeing you, but the smile quickly drops when he sees the urgency in your gaze. 

“Dear, what´s going on? How are you?” he asks, genuinely interested. Your grandpa has always cared for you. Unlike your parents, he was the one supporting you in your decisions. You swore to never talk to your parents again, which meant not seeing him often either. And under normal circumstances, you wouldn´t be in his office right now. 

But since the situation is about to escalate in your understanding, you have to swallow your pride and take this step you swore you would never ever take. “Beoji. I have a favor to ask of you and Meoni.” 

You get straight to the point. Before you can continue, the old man sits down in a chair in front of you. “What is it, my dear? What can we do for you?” The old man has a hunch. But he waits for you to speak. 

“I need money. Not for myself. For a friend.” Your expression stays serious. And even though you hate uttering these words, you still do. “His mom threw her debt onto him, and now he´s in danger. They are threatening his little sister. She´s only two–” You stop yourself from rambling on and exhale frustrated. 

“I hate asking you for this. And I will accept any decision you make. But I can´t witness anything bad happen to them, just because another person is too selfish to take care of their own mess,” you continue, and your grandpa´s face softens. 

You've always had a good heart. You are selfless enough to help others, going as far as putting down your pride. He's always loved this side of you the most. So his voice sounds softly, “How much?” 

The amount slips out of you within seconds. You watch your grandpa stand up, walk over to a glass cabinet, take out a small jewelry box. When he returns to his desk and the chair he's sat on a minute ago, he opens it. Then he takes out cash, starts counting it, and puts the bills in front of you once he´s reached the number he was looking for. 

You look at the stash, then up at him. He didn't need to tell you anything else, his gesture answer enough. You bite your bottom lip and clench your hands for a few seconds. Then you stand up and hug him. “Thank you. I will pay you back soon.”  

After that you take the money and put it into your bag. “Say hello to Meoni from me.” Your grandpa nods with a smile. Then you rush out of the house. 

۶ৎ

The world feels like it's going faster than ever. The anxiety you´ve been feeling since you´ve had the unwanted encounter with those loan sharks is going haywire inside your chest. You desperately want to run away, change your name and never speak to anyone you know ever again. But you know you can´t do that. 

You are speed walking through the streets. Seemingly, your destination is Jeno's apartment. You aren't exactly sure. The estate you´ve just been at is quite far away from his place, so it takes you a while to get to familiar streets. 

You are in some sort of zone while you head through the streets. You barely hear the familiar voice when you round a corner. Luckily, you stop in your tracks on instinct. There he is, cornered by some guys who seem strangely interested in him. Jeno looks like he´s about to start a fight with them. His frustration is evident in the way his face hardened. 

“I still need a few more days to get everything! For fucks sake I can´t just summon money out of nowhere!” He curses at them. 

“That´ s your problem. It's pay day. So pay up,” one of the strange men retorts, not in the mood to play around. 

Your heart is racing from your speedy walk. It takes a moment for your brain to filter the words into sentences that make sense. When you realize what the topic is about, you quickly make your way towards them. 

Jeno´s face drops when he sees you come closer. He immediately switches from angry to concerned for your safety. In the meantime the loan shark looks at you and starts grinning. “And so we see each other again.” 

The boy understands his words immediately, and a realization dawns on him. The moment you reach them, he immediately pulls you to his side, shielding you a little from the dangerous men. 

“What are you doing?” he whisper yells. He wants to get you away from this situation as soon as possible. You on the other hand don't even pay him any mind. Your mouth is displaying a straight line while your eyes give the man in the suit a stern look. You quickly rummage through your bag. And when you find the stack of money you quickly pull it out and push it into the chest of the man. 

“Here. Your money. Now stop bothering us and piss off,” you spit, earning a laugh from the shady man. Jeno looks at you perplexed. He has no idea where you got that money from. And he hates the fact that you are paying for him even more. But before he gets the chance to complain about it, he´s getting pulled along by you. 

Your walk quickly turns into a run. You are afraid they might want more and will chase you, so you want to get away from there as fast as possible. The boy by your side picks up on that fast, so he starts leading the way eventually, using some shortcuts to get to his apartment quicker. 

You run for a while, turning corners quickly, and jumping some walls here and there. You didn´t even know you could move like this until you had to climb up a fence to get into the correct alley faster. 

Panting, you finally come to a halt in front of Jeno´s apartment door. He silently opens it and lets you in. There´s a glass of water in front of you before you can even ask for it. And once you´ve taken a sip from it, almost emptying it in one go, Jeno finally speaks up. His face is serious and he is clearly displeased with something. 

“Why did you do that?” he asks, trying not to let his anger overtake. 

“What?” you ask, your brain not catching up. 

“Pay off my debt. That was none of your business.” He crosses his arms and grits his teeth. 

In return, you sigh and stand up. “I had no choice. They turned up at my shift the other night and threatened me.” 

This makes his eyes go wider. He guessed it earlier, but hearing you say it out loud does something to him. His heart drops. “Where did you even get the money to pay off such an amount?” 

His deflection doesn´t go past you, but you choose to accept the fact that he turns away from anger. “I asked my grandparents. I will pay them back in due time.” You sigh again and sit down. 

Jeno's arms drop. There is silence that fills the air for a few minutes. “So now you are indebted to your family. Which is something you wanted to avoid. Because of me.” 

“No, Jeno. I am helping out a friend because he´s getting threatened by shady people who know too much about him, his family, and friends. I would rather we have years of time to pay back some money I lent from my grandparents than have some scary people try and hurt you or your sister just because your mother is an egotistical bitch,” you retort. 

This makes him shut up. He sees the reasoning behind your decision, which is why he slowly sinks down to sit across from you. “I´m sorry that you got pulled into this. I wanted to avoid this, actually.” 

“Is this why you started working at the club more, again?” Your sudden question has him suck in his breath. "Don't think I didn't notice the increase of injuries, again. That´s why you also couldn´t promise me to do this shit as little as possible, am I right?” 

He can't help but nod. There is no denying any of what you are saying. He knows that. And because he trusts and appreciates you, he is honest. “Yeah. They cornered me a while ago and weren´t afraid to give me a final date while I had Bom in my arms. I had no other options. This is the only job I have. And it´s my only source for quick money.”

You rub your hands over your face. Clearly, this can´t keep going on like this. “Jeno, things have to change. You can't keep doing this shady ass fighting thing,” you start and see him about to protest, but you keep going. “This is not just about you. You have a little sister who needs you. If you get hurt so badly you have to go to the hospital, or worse, you fucking die, who is supposed to be there for her when she can´t stand in for her own rights?” 

“She needs you. Fuck. I don't want you to get badly hurt, either. Every time you turn up with new injuries, my heart hurts because I know you are hurting, too! This isn't the way, Jeno.” Your display of emotions that's carried by your voice hits him. He isn´t directly looking at you anymore, but your message lands. 

Frustrated, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I know. I know this isn't sustainable. But I have no other qualities. There is nothing I´m good at besides fighting. I barely managed to finish high school, and my reputation is so bad, people turn me away because they are scared of me. I don't know what else to do. This is all I got!” 

“But that's just not true. You are so much more than a fighter. I´ve seen it myself. If you can make me see those sides of you, others will see them, too. You just have to give yourself a chance. Fuck school qualifactions. Those mean shit when you can prove yourself with your skills. You are a smart guy with so much empathy. There's no way you won't find something better,” you argue, your voice turning gentler with every word. 

It's hard for him to believe what you are saying. But then he remembers all the other times you've believed in him, didn´t judge him, and supported him. And with that, he slowly starts to think that maybe, maybe if you are able to believe in him, he can try and believe in himself, too. 

“Let me suggest something. At some time in the future, we will sit down together and look for jobs. I need another job again, too. And while I'm at it, I might as well try and finally apply for college,” you propose, hopeful. “I don´t care when in the future as long as you promise me that we will do this. That way we can pay off the loan I took from my family together, too and you won't feel like you owe me anything.” 

There is silence between you two for a while. He is clearly thinking about your suggestion. It sounds like a solution to him. There is just one thing he has to do first. "Okay. I promise you we will do this. But only under one condition.” You listen to him and wait patiently for him to name it. “I need to win this legal fight against my mom first. Once I know Bom is safe and with someone who actually takes care of her, I will stop fighting at the club and leave that life behind me.” 

You take in his words and nod in approval once he´s done talking. “That´s fine with me. As long as you don't break this promise, I will happily support you. Even if it means I will have to keep watching you get hurt.” 

Jeno nods, too, accepting that it´s not easy for you, either. And he is thankful that you don't try to overrule his decisions. Unlike many others, you let him make his choices and don´t try to force him.

XVI. PLEASE HELP ME

Bom has been crying for over an hour already. Earlier that day, everything was still fine. They played happily, ate delicious meals, and enjoyed the bit of sun together that was still left in the cold season. Jeno finally had the chance to see his little sister again, and enjoy the day with her. His aunt being busy, she felt it was fine for him to take care of her instead. That´s how she ended up with him. 

But now, with the clock already showing a time that has passed Bom's usual bedtime, he is holding her, rocking her, trying to make her stop crying with soothing words. He's tried everything in the books. But she just won´t stop crying. 

She has eaten. They played everything she wanted. She got her bottle of formula before bedtime, too. Is dressed in her cozy pajamas like usual, and holds her favorite stuffed animal. Jeno has tried lying down with her, hoping she would fall asleep after a few minutes. But the crying never stopped. 

It seems like there is something that's bothering her. But he just can't figure out what it is. It pains him. Seeing her exhaust herself like that with seemingly nothing soothing her. The sound of her screams is loud and persistent. He hates to admit it, but he´s getting close to his limit. There are no options left for him. He fears he is stuck in this despair. 

Then, a thought crosses his mind. He doesn't think too much about it, and simply goes to get his phone. The contact is quickly found. And before he can debate about it, he dials the number. 

It rings once. Twice. A third ring never comes, because your voice already echoes through his phone. “Hello? Jeno?” 

You are confused about why he suddenly calls you. But then you hear the crying in the background. And moments later, Jeno´s exhausted voice answers your looming question. “Can you please come over? I don't know what to do anymore. Bom keeps crying and I don't know how to calm her down.” 

You can hear the frustration and pain in his voice. He is tired. Stressed. There is no need for you to debate on your answer. “Give me 10 minutes.” 

With that you end the call. Your shoes and jacket are on within seconds. Your lights are off just as quick. And before you know it you are out of your apartment, on your way to his. 

The minutes passing feel like hours to the boy who is still holding his little sister in his arms. He tries again and again to calmly talk to her. Hope never fading. When the doorbell rings, he is quick to let you in. And when you take a step inside, recognizing the disheveled state he is in, the shaking in his arms from the tension he´s been holding back, you discard your stuff as fast as possible and turn to him. 

You hold your arms out. He carries Bom over to you, eyes already apologizing for the bother, but you don´t comment on that. You simply look at him, gaze calm and confident. Then you speak. “Go and take a shower. I will take care of her.” 

Jeno´s shoulders slump in a mix of exhaustion and relief. He doesn't argue with you and watches as you vanish into his bedroom, his sister still crying in your arms. Worries plague his mind as he slowly moves to his bathroom. What if you have no success, either? What will he do if Bom cries herself down to exhaustion, until her Body can't take it anymore?

His clothes are discarded with hesitance. When he looks in the mirror his expression gloomily stares back at him. He looks like a mess. He hates that he can't deal with this himself. Yet he is so thankful that you came. 

۶ৎ

While Jeno is taking a shower, you are busy with Bom. The little girl looks just as exhausted as her brother. So you try your best to help her. 

You check her diaper again. Empty. Not too loose, not too tight. You know that she definitely ate something earlier. The used kitchen tools tell you that much. You check her temperature. Normal. You try rocking her, too, but see that she doesn´t relax with it. 

When you try to distract her with her stuffed animal, she shortly stops to look at it, but starts again. With a small sigh you decide to lay her down. If nothing like this helps, maybe something else is the issue. 

The girl doesn't stay lying on her back. She starts kicking the small blanket around. She keeps trying to sit up. Even when you want to caress her, you feel her back away from your touch. 

An idea pops up in your mind. You quickly take away the blanket and put it aside. Then you open the window a little, to let in fresh air. The sudden cold air grabs her attention again. Her crying seems to calm just a tiny bit, even if it still doesn't fully stop. But you take notice of it. 

When you see her fumble with her pajama top, you decide that she is definitely overwhelmed. So you help her take off the pieces of clothing. The effect is instant. Her expression softens a little. 

You close the window a few seconds later. The few minutes let in enough cold air to freshen up the bedroom. And because the only thing that´s left now is for you to give her emotional support, you do the only thing that seems right. You lie down next to her, look her in the eyes, and try to soothe her by singing and humming to her a little. 

Now that the sensory overload is less, she can concentrate on one thing to calm down. And it works. The girl looks at you. She still occasionally lets out a cry, but it's significantly less. Your body gives her the necessary warmth she might want. And your overall presence reassures her that she´s not alone. 

Your humming and singing is grounding. And when some minutes have passed, you can see how her breathing starts to even out. The crying has stopped now. And her eyes seem to get heavier and heavier. 

With a daring gesture you brush your finger gently over the bridge of her nose. At first it's testing the waters on your part. But when she doesn´t make a move that tells you she doesn´t want it, you keep going, picking up a slow, steady rhythm. 

You do this for a few more minutes until she finally falls asleep, and wait another minute until you dare to move away from her, slowly scooting to the edge of the bed. Then you take the blanket and lay it on top of her so she stays warm and cozy. You watch her a few more moments, until you finally decide to leave the room. 

When you step out of it, you don't fully close the door. You can still hear the running water in the bathroom, so you take a look around. There are some plates and pots still dirty in the kitchen sink. The living room floor is scattered with toys. He definitely did everything he could, you think. And because you saw how exhausted he looked when you arrived, you decide to take the chores off his shoulders. 

۶ৎ

The moment Jeno steps out of the bathroom in a fresh set of clothes and a towel on his head, somewhat drying his wet hair, he immediately notices the silence. His eyes roam his apartment. He sees the ajar door to his bedroom. And then he sees you putting away a last plate onto the drying rack. 

You surprise him over and over. He doesn't know how you do it. But somehow you always find a way to fix things in his life or make it easier for him. 

Discarding the towel on his head, he walks over to you in silence. You can feel his presence, so you turn to face him. “Have you eaten?” you ask right away, voice soft and low. 

He nods as a response, too stunned to speak at first. “How…”

You give him a small smile and lean onto the counter behind you. “She was overwhelmed. I helped her erase the things that overstimulated her. And after that I helped her fall asleep.”

“Right. Why didn't I think of this?” Jeno whispers to himself, mostly. 

“Don´t blame yourself. It´s not easy to find what´s wrong when they don't know how to express themselves fully, yet.” You try to take away the burdening thoughts from him. After all, you knew him well enough to know that he likes to blame himself a lot. 

The boy in front of you lets out an exhausted chuckle. Of course you see right through him. “You amaze me every time,” he then mumbles, and looks at you. 

“What do you mean?” Your question is simple. Yet, it amuses him that you don´t seem to know just how much you've helped him in the few months he has known you. He shakes his head in disbelief, but the smile on his lips doesn´t disappear. 

Neither of you speak after this. He doesn´t give you an answer, instead leaving you in the open about his comment. You watch him in the dim lighting provided by the street lamps from outside. It´s so quiet you can hear yours and his breathing. 

“You know, I thought this night would end with a mental breakdown,” he whispers all of a sudden. There is a shakiness to his voice you can´t decipher just yet. “I started to get scared. I…I didn´t know who else to call.” 

The words sit heavy with you. His choice to be openly vulnerable with you is something you treasure deeply, knowing it´s not something he would just do with anyone. 

Without thinking, your hand touches his forearm. The grounding gesture makes him look at you. You return his gaze, searching for anything that tells you he is uncomfortable. “I´m so glad you called.” 

Your honest words steal a shaky breath from him. His gaze dips down, too, finding the floor before he looks back up. Hearing confirmation that it was the right decision lifts something heavy off his chest. With the relief of tension, his shoulders automatically sack down slightly, and he places his hands on the counter on either side of you to support himself. 

You are suddenly so close to him. The way you so innocently stare at him for signs that he needs more emotional support has his heart soften. His mind empties, too, comforted by your presence. 

You become aware of the closeness, too. But strangely, it feels soothing. Like it´s meant to be. And before you know it, you move closer. 

His eyes follow you. There is hesitation when you are centimeters apart from each other. You can feel his breath on your mouth. And then, when neither of you widen the distance, he closes it instead. 

Your lips meet softly, like he's afraid of breaking the moment. You are both careful with what you are doing, only indulging lightly in it. And when he pulls back, there is a visible difference in his demeanor. 

You keep looking at him, trying to read him. But besides the weight that´s been lifted, and the gentle longing in his eyes, you can´t find any more signs of distress. 

He´s holding onto your arm with his hand, keeping you grounded and close to him. And while you relish in this moment, both of you feel the remaining pull. 

There is no need for words to be exchanged. You just give in to the feelings. Before you know it, your lips are back on his. With less hesitation, and more need. 

One of your hands moves to hold his face. He places one on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You give in to the pull, letting go of any worries and thoughts that have kept you apart in all the struggle. 

There is no lust that comes with the closeness the two of you share. Just freedom. Like there is no more struggle to breathe in the mess you call life. 

Eventually, you part. Your panting fills the quiet night air as you come down from the emotional high you just experienced. Jeno leans his forehead on yours as he loosens his grip on you just a little. 

Neither of you dare to speak up, scared to ruin the atmosphere you created for yourselves. You let whatever feelings just came over you linger. Then, a short, silent shuffle from the bedroom tears both of your attention to the door. 

You wait for any other sign that something is up. But when silence follows again, both of you feel relief. You look back at each other, soft, gentle smiles reflecting on your faces. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles, genuinely acknowledging all your effort. 

Your smile grows, and you squeeze his hand once before you let go. Your gaze moves back to the door again as you let silence settle. And outside, the city hums on like any other night, leaving you behind in the comfort of its noise. 

XVII. D-DAY

“Okay so, I´ve talked to the lawyer again, and she said if she pulls certain strings, things will move fast,” your voice rings through the phone, over to Jeno. 

The boy listens to you intently. The stakes are high, so he´s giving it his best. “Are you sure they will make it work that quickly? I am not fully trusting the process yet.” 

“Yes. I am flexing my name with this case a bit, so they will prioritize it because they don´t want to stand in bad light with my family,” you explain, a certain discomfort traveling with your voice as you do. 

Jeno knows you hate your family connections. He knows you don´t like to rely on your last name or the things your parents have established. That´s why he appreciates your effort even more. He knows not to take it for granted. 

“The system is really god damn unfair,” he mumbles on the other line. 

"Yeah. But that´s our luck this time. We are using corruption for our benefits. Just like any other rich bitch does. So please, keep the information coming. The more she has in her hands the easier the case will be,” you answer, still having heard him clear enough.

With a heavy exhale, Jeno writes down some more things that come to his mind. “Fine. I will trust you on this.” 

۶ৎ

After your call, things really do move fast. Weeks pass by in which Jeno keeps sending notes to the lawyer you referred him to. She keeps in contact with him, praising him for the detailed information. At the same time, his aunt does everything in her capabilities to keep Bom with her as much as possible. She knows not to trust her sister with anything she´s saying, so whenever the opportunity arises, she makes up time to spend it with her niece. 

Then, when the phone call for a date finally comes, Jeno feels like his heart is jumping out of his chest. He knows you said things will move fast. But he didn´t expect it to be this fast. 

When a court date finally graces his calendar on the wall, he suddenly feels the need to scramble and find something appropriate to wear, while also making sure his face doesn´t look too bruised from the fights he still does. He wants to look responsible, not like what his reputation frames him to be. 

The fewer days until the hearing, the more nervous he gets. You stay in contact with him as much as possible. But given the stress and anxiety, you regularly miss each other's calls or don't text each other for days until one of you gets room to breathe again. 

The distance is bothering you. But there is nothing you can do. He hates it just as much. But his focus keeps straying to what he has to do. 

When the day finally comes, Jeno is pacing up and down the halls in front of the court room. His aunt is inside, with the lawyer you recommended, battling his mother and her stupid boyfriend. 

He has no idea where his little sister is. He just knows she´s currently with a social worker. He knows he has to enter the court room any moment now, stating his own experiences with his family and how they used him as a means to an end. The thought is killing him on the inside. He is scared. But he keeps retelling himself why he´s doing this. 

Once the hour inside the room, in front of the judge, is over, he sits back down outside. His leg is bouncing as he waits impatiently for the whole hearing to end. These minutes feel like days. He hates it. But he has to hold out. 

In front of the building, you are waiting for him. You barely managed to get there on time, knowing you wouldn't be allowed inside anyway. But you still wanted to show up. To support Jeno. After all, you came to realize that you are like an anchor to him. In the months leading up to right now, you´ve gotten close to him, so now, it´s no longer just you being there for him, but also him giving you the energy to live life fully again. 

You pace along the sidewalk, anxiously rubbing your palms together as you wait. It feels like walking on spikes ready to pierce you. You are stuck in your mind, thinking of all possible outcomes. And while you know the chances for a win are high, you are still as scared as someone who will surely be convicted for a crime that means a life in prison. 

The moment the doors to the court house open, your head snaps up. Jeno walks down the stairs speedily, when he sees you waiting for him. You look at him with curious eyes, your breath held in anticipation. 

When he stops in front of you, his smile grows. You hate how he keeps you waiting. You actually feel the urge to punch him so he finally spills the judgment. You keep looking from one eye to the other, trying to read his face, to get the answer you want. 

Then, his smile grows. The words leave his mouth and the world stops spinning for a few seconds. You process what he's saying. And right after, you jump into his arms, full of joy. 

He quickly embraces you, pulling you against him with lots of strength. He buries his face in your shoulder, trying to contain himself. But the grin keeps spreading on his face. “I can´t believe it. She's free.” 

“I am so happy for you,” you respond, almost shedding a tear or two, out of joy for this win. He's finally getting the justice he deserves. And you are with him, to witness it.

When you pull apart, you stare at him with a joyful smile. “What exactly did they decide on?” Curiosity is killing you. You want to know what the judge said. 

“Bom will move in with my aunt. She´s getting full custody and my mom is no longer allowed to see her. I get to visit Bom whenever I have the time to,” he explains, still smiling like he just got reborn. 

Hearing this, you move to hug him once again. There is just nothing you can say that will express the happiness you are currently feeling. With it, relief settles in as well. You two no longer have to worry about this constant race for Bom's well being.

XVIII. NEW BEGINNINGS

The knock on the door echoes loud and clear, and seconds later, Jeno swings open the door. He greets you with a bright smile while you return it with the same enthusiasm. 

When you step inside, your jacket and shoes are off fast. The laptop you´ve brought with you is put into Jeno´s hands in the meantime. The boy studies it with a curious gaze, and when you are done you take it out of his hands and strut into his living room, plopping down on the couch as if you own the place. 

“And you are serious about the whole job hunt thing? You sure someone will want to hire me?” the boy asks as he sits down next to you, resting his arm on the back of the couch, and watches you start up the device. 

You give him an incredulous look. “Do I really have to keep telling you that you are capable of more than you think? Jeno please, you are anything but stupid. Trust yourself some more.” The eye roll you give him afterwards makes him chuckle. He doesn´t answer your statement, instead watching the pastel background on your desktop pop up on screen. 

You sign in quickly, open your personal folders and pull out the documents you already made. “Okay so, let´s create an application for you so some horrible boss can see how great you are.” 

“Shouldn´t we start by trying to find jobs that suit me first?” Jeno questions, unsure if there even is anything he would be useful for. Your head turns towards him again and you start studying his face. Your cheeks puff out, too, while you try to think of an answer. 

“I mean, what do you personally think you are really good at, and what do you like to do besides fighting?” you ask straight up, the air leaving your cheeks as you speak. 

Distracted by the fairly cute expression, Jeno starts to think of a few things. At first nothing really comes up, but then, ideas appear in his mind. “I would say, I like working out? And well, I do know how to come by on a low budget. But I don´t know if that´s useful for anything.”  

“... and?” you try to urge him to say more, but the boy stays quiet and just shrugs. It makes you face palm in frustration. How can he be so blind? The sigh that follows when you look at him makes him scratch the back of his head, but before he gets the chance to say more, you start again. “Okay, so you like working out, you are physically on the top level, you know how to fight and defend. Besides that you are great with kids, and in my personal opinion you are actually pretty smart. You figure things out quickly, know how to tend for yourself and care for others all while surviving in a stressful environment. Your stamina is great and you have a strong mind.” 

Your listing of all these things leaves him quite speechless. His big eyed stare makes you break your poker face, the created chuckle echoing through the room. “What? You didn't actually think I wouldn´t find anything valuable that fits many jobs? Look, in my opinion, you are pretty great. If no one else ever told you this, you can be sure I have no reason to lie to you.” 

You end up patting his shoulder before opening the browser on your laptop to look for some jobs. When you type in some of the qualities you´ve just listed, you scroll through the recommended jobs that fit them, and show them to Jeno. “Do any of these suit your tastes? Do you think one of them could work for you?” 

Jeno´s eyes roam over the black letters showing many job titles. He takes each of them in, visually trying to imagine himself in the role that´s presented. Body guard, kindergarten teacher, personal trainer. Somehow, all of these felt a little off. It´s not easy for him to try and imagine himself as something other than an underground fighter. So he looks at you for any implications of help. 

However, you just look at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “What do you have in mind for your new second job?” he eventually asks, making you scrunch up in confusion. 

“Are you trying to divert the topic?” you ask straight up, not fully grasping the sudden reason for his question. 

“No, I just…it´s hard imagining anything normal. I am just curious. Maybe it helps me figure it out for myself.” He says, diverting his gaze towards the carpet on his floor. He feels a bit embarrassed about his struggle. 

What he misses is the way your expression softens. And instead of judging him, you simply answer. “Actually, I already made an application form for a position at a school for troubled kids. Since I eventually want to work in the field, and study social work, I felt it was a good way of testing my skills and gaining experience.” 

Your answer steers his eyes back to you. His gaze is laced with admiration as he listens to you. “Your goals are so inspirational. I never even thought of what I wanted to be later in life.” 

“But that´s because you had other things to focus on. You never had the chance to do this. That´s why we are here right now. It's fine if we can´t find anything today, either. It´s just important we take this step at all,” you reassure. 

Jeno nods in understanding and keeps thinking about things. You, in the meantime, keep scrolling through whatever the browser suggested. “Isn´t there anything that´s not too far away from the job you want to do?” he then, suddenly, asks, looking at you with some sort of puppy gaze. 

You return his gaze with one of surprise. You don´t know why he suddenly feels like he needs you in closer proximity for a job, but you also don´t want to question him, so you just shrug and start thinking. 

A pout is slowly growing on Jeno´s face when you keep quiet, so when you click your tongue because you remembered something, his ears perk up. “Actually, I think there is. Across from the school, in the same building, is a rehabilitation center for mostly older people who recover from sickness or injury. I think their gym is still looking for someone willing to support the old folks with their exercises while keeping up with the friendly chatter.” 

“Can´t I do that kind of job?” he asks, thinking that he definitely qualifies for the physical tasks, and he is sure he can handle chatty seniors. 

“I don´t see a reason why you can´t. Want to apply for the job?” you ask, looking at him with expectation. 

Jeno nods. Inside he still feels a little unsure, but he knows, if you keep supporting him, building his confidence in this department, he will feel secure soon. And if you manage to get the job at the school, he might even be able to have daily lunch time with you, which sounds like a really nice, domestic life to him, away from all the chaos, and presentable enough for when Bom has to introduce her family at school in a few years time, too. 

Happy that he found something he is interested in doing, you smile at him and open a writing program after. “Alright. Let´s get started on that CV then. I will help you with that.” 

“What does yours look like?” Curiosity gets the best of him, so he asks you. The question triggers an even prouder smile from you so you go to open the files you had created a week ago and show them to him. 

The application looks really professional in Jeno´s eyes and he admires your eye for detail and design on it. Impressed, he hums. “Are you secretly a graphic designer or something? How can you make this look so professional while also adding your personal touch with those cutesy designs?” 

“Oh that? I just got carried away. It was too cute to delete so I tried to somehow implement it without ruining the serious aspects of what it needs to portray,” you half mumble, trying not to let his compliments get to your head, because really, it wasn´t that big of a deal. Just a normal application with some pink lettering, cute symbols and a cream colored background. 

Once Jeno is done inspecting what you´ve made, you start an empty file and write down his personal information. Quickly, you have the important data down, and add whatever else needs to be on this application. 

Two hours later, you present the final version to the boy who´s busy scrolling through his socials by now. “What do you think?” you ask and wait for Jeno´s judgment. He looks at the file, scans the information, and then looks at you. 

“Why does mine not have cute lettering on it?” he seriously asks. 

“Do you really want me to add pink font and cute lettering to yours, too?” You wonder if he´s joking or for real. 

“Can a guy not have pink and cute associated with his application?” he counters instead. 

“Do you want them to compare our applications and think I made this instead of you?” you question, raising one eyebrow. 

The boy pouts, unable to reply with a good argument. Then he gives in. “Fine. But can we add a blue font at least? I don't like the plain look.” 

You chuckle at his persistence to add some more character to it. But with the way he asks so nicely you can´t say no. “Fine. I will add some more colour. Just for you.” 

His eyes light up with your answer. Satisfied he leans back against the back of the couch again, going back to his phone. 

“How´s Jaemin? Is he sad you are going to leave the fighting scene?” you then ask while busy with the colour of the lettering. 

“Oh, he´s fine. A bit sad his best friend won´t work with him any longer, but he will survive. It´s not like our friendship is going to end because of this,” Jeno says, looking at his phone screen. 

“That´s great. You should invite him over for coffee or something when you successfully get a job,” you suggest, not looking away from the desktop, either. 

After some silence, and you being busy finishing the application for him, you clap our hands together when the file is finally done. “Now we just have to send these to the institution and wait.” 

Upon hearing that, Jeno looks at you smiling brightly and proudly. He debates on asking another question, seeing how your mood is good right now. He doesn´t know if it will ruin it, because he doesn´t know if the topic is sensitive to you. Eventually, he ends up going for it, though, knowing that you are strong enough to handle it. 

“When do you plan on applying for universities?” His voice comes out with a rough undertone, prompting him to clear his throat. 

You lean back against the couch and exhale, a little bit of exhaustion evident in it. “I already finished writing the applications for all the colleges in the area.” You pause after saying it. Something is gnawing at you in the back of your mind. Jeno patiently waits for you to continue. “But I´m a bit afraid of actually applying.” 

The revelation makes him put his phone away. His eyebrow is raised as he goes to look at you with a hint of concern. “Why? That´s what you've been working your ass off for, isn´t it?” 

“Yes. But…” You look at him now before you keep speaking, “Sometimes, I question if my parents were right after all. If it´s really the right decision. Or if I should just comply and apply for business instead.” 

Your admission leaves him speechless. You, the one who never doubted him once, who kept motivating him and told him he can achieve anything if he only actually believed in himself, are afraid of pursuing your dream. He couldn't let that self-doubt ruin it for you. 

With swift movements he takes the laptop from you. He quickly searches through your saved websites in the browser, knowing you are the type of person to have the tabs for the universities saved so you can go to the websites quickly. Then he opens each of them, looks for the page for application, and inserts your file. 

“What are you doing?” you question, sitting up in alert as you watch him, unable to interfere. 

“Applying for university,” he drily says and hits the send button for each of the schools. Only after that does he put the laptop down on the coffee table. 

You meet his eyes with a look of shock. You have no words, too busy still processing what he just did for you. Somehow it´s ironic. You keep telling him to believe in himself while you secretly doubt your own decisions. So him doing this feels like a reversal. 

“The worst that can happen is that you have to apply again next semester,” he states as a matter of fact. “You, of all people I know, have no reason to question your dreams, okay? If anyone is doing what´s right, it´s you. You follow your heart, and I want you to keep doing that. Because if you stop, I can no longer look up to you as the responsible person in our friendship.” 

His statement takes you off guard. The way he addresses you, refers to you. The way he lays open how he sees you, is surprising. But somehow, you can´t do anything but laugh at yourself. “You are right. There is no need to suddenly question this. If it´s meant to be, it will happen. And if I discover that the field ain´t it for me, I can still change course.” 

“Exactly. So stop overthinking this. You are great with people. You will manage this just fine. And it will definitely be the right decision,” he adds, determination blooming for you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. A genuine smile spreads over your mouth and you give him a look of true appreciation. His eyes soften in return. And since the moment you arrived at his place, it´s the first time this evening that he fully takes you in. 

The gentleness in the way you look at him. The way your mouth curves into the friendly smile you always give him. The strands of hair that fall into your face, seemingly obstruct your view, but you don´t care enough to brush them away. It's comforting how you always give him this type of attention. 

Silence stretches between you. You notice his focus shifting. The atmosphere is calm, comfortable. You can´t help but acknowledge his presence more. It´s only now that you notice how close you sit together. His knee is pressing into your thigh a bit. His hand rests on the backrest, close to your face. He is staring at you now, and somehow, it feels like there is longing growing between you two. 

Without questioning it, you lean your head onto his hand. He immediately reacts by letting you rest in his palm, his thumb instinctively brushing over your cheek. The touch immediately sends a quiet shiver through you.

Jeno doesn´t stop the movement, doesn´t even seem to realize he´s doing it at all. Until you softly exhale, your eyes flutter shut for just a second. Something changes in his expression then. The gentleness stays, but it deepens, turns heavier. More aware. 

“You always do that,” he murmurs, his voice breaking the silence. 

You open your eyes again, confused but smiling. “Do what?” 

“Make things feel steady,” he says. His thumb pauses against your cheekbone. “Like I can finally breathe again.” 

The words settle low in your chest. You shift slightly, not pulling away, just close enough that your legs brush more fully now. His breath catches as a result. You hear it. Feel it. 

For a moment neither of you moves. The space between you suddenly feels really charged. Fragile, like any wrong move could shatter it. 

Your eyes focus on him, again. Switching from one to the other. Trying to read him. He keeps up with it. Lets you try to decipher him. 

The tension grows, quiet comfort settling between you two, accompanied by the charged air. Eventually, his gaze slips down to your lips. The memory of that night where he needed help and called you rushing back to his mind. 

He feels hot all over again, thinking back on the way he kissed you. Let you in. 

When his gaze returns to your eyes, he finds them hooded. You are looking at him with this expression that tells him so much. Yet he´s afraid of acknowledging it fully. 

Your hand moves, then. Lands on his wrist that's resting on his thigh. You let your fingers brush over his skin softly. As if to tell him that it´s okay. Giving him the choice. 

With a rising heartbeat, he finally leans in. He closes the distance, and then, soft lips meet yours. He kisses you warm and unhurried, giving you the option of an out any time. But you don´t need it. You return the gesture with just as much longing as him, letting it unfold, and accepting the pull that´s been building quietly all evening. 

Jeno´s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, steadying you, and grounding himself. He deepens the kiss, and you return it without hesitation. 

It´s not rushed. Not desperate. But it´s no longer innocent, either. Unlike last time, there is pressure now. A subtle insistence. And the unmistakable realization that this is something you both want. 

Your hand keeps caressing his, slowly moving over to his underarm. With each passing second, the want you feel for each other grows. There are short breaks for air. But the moment you take that breath, you are right back to kissing. 

With each kiss, the distance between you shrinks. Before you know it, the hand you´ve been holding rests on your thigh, thumb circling the area gently. You pull at his t-shirt, bringing him closer to you. 

Eventually, Jeno breaks the kiss. He looks at you, trying to gauge where you want to go with this while panting. Sensing the possibility for overthinking, you move, shifting your weight onto your knees. His hand still holds your thigh. And you simply cup his face, crash your lips back on his and lean forward. 

Immediately, his other hand lands on your hip. He pulls you closer to him, presses your body against his, makes space for you so it's easier to kiss you. He quickly gets swallowed by the feelings that grow inside of him. The want to have you closer. 

His hand keeps wandering, brushing your waist, caressing your ribs. It steals a short, breathy, gasp from you. The sound has him stiffen for a second, surprise washing over him. But at the same time, the vulnerability and fragility of it turns him on so much. 

You don´t even notice his short stiffening, too intoxicated by the fluttery feeling inside your stomach that´s caused by the way he touches you. Instinctively, you press yourself unbelievably closer to him, pretty much sitting in his lap now, you don´t even notice the moment you grind down on him. 

A low groan breaks your making out. But only shortly. Because before you can say anything, his lips start to plaster kisses on your jaw. Like a man who knows what he wants, he takes his time traveling down to your neck and starts sucking on your skin. 

His arm is embracing your waist now, too. There is no possibility for you to move away. So you give in to the feeling, grabbing his shoulders for support. When he sucks on a certain spot on your neck, your eyes shoot open, and a shaky moan leaves your mouth. 

Jeno can´t help but chuckle against your skin. His free hand takes the chance to roam under your top, while he keeps his assault on your neck going. 

You can feel him everywhere. The heat of his body against yours, his wet kisses on your neck, the hand that moves over your skin. It´s all sending you to a different realm. You can feel how the heat is pooling down. How it´s growing in your lower half. And how the wetness increases between your legs. 

Slowly, you start to feel fizzy. You feel the urge to let out the energy that´s growing between you two. The only way that comes to mind is sweet and simple. You did it once already. So you will keep it going. With the growing arousal, you grind down on him again, pressing your middle against him, over and over. Until you can feel his body respond. 

The air is growing thick now. Jeno can feel the space in his pants become smaller. There is more urgency in the way you move against each other, keep kissing each other. And in a swift movement, Jeno looks at you, your top in his hands, waiting for a sign from you that it´s okay if he does this. 

You stare at him, panting, and give him a quick nod, lifting your arms. The fabric is over your head a second later. His lips are on your collarbone next, leaving open mouthed kisses that travel to your breasts. 

You fumble with his t-shirt, hands moving over the strong muscles below. You pull at the fabric, too. And Jeno makes quick work of it, taking it off with a swift movement, before returning to his previous task. 

Satisfied with the revelation of more skin, you touch his shoulders, his chest, his back. All while your hips rock against his, fueling the fire in your core. Breathy moans fill the air in his living room. Your underwear is becoming uncomfortably sticky. It´s getting overwhelming. 

“Jeno, your bedroom. Now,” you pant. He breaks away from your skin for a few seconds, looks at you, and in the next moment, he's lifting you up and walks to the room. 

His elbow pushes open the door. He lays you down on his bed right after. Then he attacks your lips again. His mouth moves against yours. Your hands hold onto his shoulders. And he slowly climbs over you, settling between your legs. 

Your legs close around his hips, pull him against you, and you relish in the feeling. Another moan leaves your mouth. Jeno descends on your skin again, sucking on your jaw, your neck, your collar bone. When he reaches the mount of your breasts, he gives you a glance. You look back at him, eyes full of anticipation. Then he skillfully takes off your bra. 

His mouth immediately latches onto one of your nipples, causing you to arch into him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity. “Fuck, Jeno~” you moan, trying to contain yourself and not completely loose it. 

He simply hums against you, the vibration of it doing nothing against the way every sensation travels right to your pussy. You can feel his erection growing between your legs. It fuels your desire to do something, too. So while he keeps his attack on your sensitive buds going, your hand travels down his chest. Until it reaches his pants. 

Too distracted by the bliss of having you so close to him, he only notices your wandering hand when it´s already busy doing something. A throaty groan breaks his rhythm with your tit when he feels your fingers brush over his dick. 

He glances up at you, a burning fire behind his gaze as he observes you. Deciding that he can play this game, too, he keeps going, giving the other nipple just as much attention. But this time, one of his hands moves over your waist down to your hips, and finally between your legs. 

The moment you feel his fingers press into the fabric of your panties, giving your pussy the much wanted friction it longed for, you let out an unrestrained moan. Your eyes dart down to him, watching as he teases you. And you can´t help it, your hips push against his fingers again, chasing more of that feeling. 

The pace starts to pick up. Each of your hands keep teasing the other, luring out more sounds. Eventually, Jeno has had enough of your pants, so he makes quick progress with them, and pulls them off your legs. After that, he´s back on you. He never leaves you without any touch. And now that he has it easier moving his hands, he doesn´t shy away from pushing his fingers into your panties to give your clit the needed attention. 

“Jeno, please,” you whine. The feeling of his fingers is nice. But you want more. 

The boy chuckles, and looks at you. “Please what? Speak with me. Tell me what you want,” he says between kisses, placing one on your shoulder, one on your cheek, and one on your forehead. 

“I need you. Want you inside of me,” you tell him. Your eyes clearly showing him just how much. 

“Just a little longer, okay?” He knows he has to open you up at least a little bit. He doesn´t know how active you were before, but there is no way he is risking hurting you. Recognizing your growing impatience, however, he doesn´t wait much longer, and dips one finger into you. 

You let out a small gasp with the feeling. He´s careful at first. Your wetness makes him groan another time. He is already way ahead in his mind, and barely holding himself back now. But for your sake, he keeps going. 

When he feels you are fine with one finger, he adds another. He can feel you clench around him especially when he curls them. Your eyes close with the growing feeling inside your lower stomach, and you are fisting the sheets by now, close to the edge. 

Recognizing the signs, Jeno slows down a bit. He adds a third finger, though, stretching you out even further. You moan with the added fullness, your hips meeting his hand in a steady rhythm. 

You can feel the knot tighten. Your breathing is more and more shallow, broken by soft moans. You are going down with the bliss. Jeno keeps pushing right at that spot that feels so delicious inside of you. And then, with one more push, you feel yourself slipping into another world. 

Your pussy clenches hard around his fingers. Your hands fist the sheets, turning your knuckles white. Your legs start to shake. And while you go over the edge, he fucks you through it. Until the last wave of your orgasm is over, and he feels you pull away due to the overstimulation. 

You are a panting mess when you come back to your senses. Jeno´s hand is caressing your inner thigh while he scatters soft kisses over your shoulder. Only when you feel ready again, will he focus on his own wants. 

You glance at him, recognize the strain in his pants. Then, when you are able to focus again, you move. Your hands are on his shoulders, caressing his skin. Your mouth latches onto his throat this time, scattering it with kisses. 

It takes him by surprise, but he can´t deny that it makes his head feel like it´s spinning. Whatever you do to him, it has his heart racing and his stomach flutter with a feeling he can´t describe. 

He is so distracted by the attack on him, he fails to notice the way you shift your position until he´s almost fully on his back. 

He blinks a few times when he realizes, but lets you do whatever, regardless. You already feel horny again, in desperate need for him to fill you up. So you make quick work with his pants, and free his dick from the restrains of the fabric. 

Your hand immediately moves to take him, wrapping around him and moving in slow, steady motions. The sudden friction has his stomach muscles tighten while a groan slips out of his mouth. And when he fully takes you in, the way you are on top of him, ready to devour him. He swallows heavily. 

“Fuck! You look so fucking hot,” he curses, one hand moving to hold your hips. 

You simply chuckle at him. And when you are done stroking his dick some more, you get ready. “I doubt you have any condoms at home.” Your voice sounds a little hoarse, and there is a teasing edge to it. 

Jeno hates to admit it. But you are right with your assumption. With his lack of a girlfriend and the lack of wanting to hoe around, he didn´t buy any in a long time. So he shakes his head. “Hate to say it, but you are right,” he groans, already accepting the fact that you are going to stop right there. 

But before he gets to think about it more, you are already aligning yourself with him. And in the next moment, you sink down on him, slowly. 

Feeling your wet walls take him, he moans. The deeper you take him, the tighter you feel. He has to concentrate really hard not to cum right then and there. 

Stuck in your own bliss, you close your eyes. The way his dick pushes against your walls feels so delicious, you could get used to having this every day. Only when he´s fully inside do you open your eyes again. Your breaths are heavy, and when you look at him, a sweet, satisfied smirk on your face, do you see the way he´s struggling to keep it together. 

You don´t move right away, giving him and yourself time to adjust to each other. You place your palms on his chest for support, and then whisper, “Jeno, no need to hold back, okay?” 

It takes a few seconds for him to fully comprehend your words. But right when he understands them, you lift yourself up and sink back down on him. The sudden friction has his hands grip your hips tightly. He's sure he will leave bruises on your skin if this keeps going. 

Your mouth opens slightly, letting out a soft moan when you start moving. You look at the man below you, to see if he feels uncomfortable with anything. But when you see the hungry gaze, and the way he is trying really hard not to slam into you with all his might, you do it again. 

Your hips lift and sink down again. And again. And then your pace picks up. With the rhythm you are setting, you are letting go. The moans are spilling out of you. Jeno´s knuckles are turning white. And even though you told him not to hold back, he still doesn´t want to hold you in place and abuse your pussy. 

With each move of your hips, your pace increases. The knot in your lower stomach starts to form quickly. The sounds you two make turn you on even more. And the longer you keep this up, the closer you are to another orgasm. 

Jeno notices. He can feel the way you clench around him, the way your movements get sloppier. He guesses your thighs are starting to burn, too. Feeling close himself, it takes every bit of willpower in him to hold out longer. There is a sudden switch in him, though, and within seconds he has decided he wants you to come differently. 

In fast movements you find yourself back on your back. A yelp leaves your mouth with the sudden change of position. Big eyes stare at the man who´s now on top of you again with curiosity. You are panting, until he starts to move, ramming into you with powerful, rhythmic thrusts. 

On reflex, you hold onto him, moaning louder now. The change in angle has you seeing stars, especially because he feels so much deeper like this. You can't help but scratch his skin within your blissed out state, making the boy his lightly.

He feels really close to release. So to speed up your orgasm just a little bit, he pushes onto your lower belly with one hand, and uses his thumb to circle your clit. The sounds that escape you right after, are music in his ears. He loses himself in them a bit, and then he can feel the edge. 

Seconds later, he releases into you with a low groan, but keeps going until he can feel you clench around him really hard. 

Your legs start to shake again as you tip over the edge, your second orgasm taking you to another world again. Jeno keeps his thrusts going, taking you through the high. He only slowly pulls out when your limbs slip from him and you pant, exhausted. 

When you come back down from the high of the orgasm, you can feel featherlight kisses on your cheek. You lock eyes with the man lying down next to you, and move in to place a kiss on his lips. You don´t care about the mess between your legs, or the sticky state you are in. You simply move closer to him and get comfortable in his arms. 

“What are we going to do now?” he mumbles. 

“Well, you don´t have to worry about me giving birth to a child. I can reassure you about that. I take the pill,” you answer, earning yourself a chuckle from him. 

“Good to know,” he retorts, but the question still leaves open the other things that probably should get addressed. 

You exhale comfortably, exhaustion starting to cloud your mind. “Let´s worry about anything else later. For now, I just really want to cuddle.” 

In his mind, Jeno agrees. The moment feels too vulnerable to ruin it with anything verbal. So he pulls you just a little bit closer, places another kiss on your forehead, and decides to let the topic rest. 

XIX. WHEN THE NIGHT ENDS, MORNING SHINES

You don´t really meet up or text much after that night. Somehow, both of you are very busy with so many things—be it family meet ups for Jeno with his aunt and Bom, or you having to do double shifts at the cafe. You are so busy, you even forget about the applications you've sent out to the jobs and the ones Jeno submitted for the universities of your choice. 

Time passes like it´s something infinite that can´t run out, and one morning when you finally have a day off, you check your mailbox, finding surprising envelopes inside. The moment you step back into your livingroom, you are on your phone dialing Jeno´s number. 

It rings a few times. You are about to hang up, thinking he is busy or something, when he finally picks up with a groggy tone. “Hmm?” 

“Come over,” you demand. It makes the boy on the other line raise his eyebrow in confusion. 

“Damn, not even a hello, how are you?” he retorts, a smile forming on his lips. He knows he didn't greet you properly, either. 

“Lee jeno, get your ass over to my place. I am dying of curiosity and I don´t want to wait more than necessary,” you deadpan, leaving him even more confused. To enlighten him because you notice, you add, “I received interesting mail. It concerns both your and my application. Now put on your shoes and take your ass over to my place.” 

The added context makes something click in his brain. He forgot about the whole job thing, too, too busy thinking about other things in regards to your and his type of relationship. 

You can hear the rustling of a jacket and shoes being put on. Then the jingle of keys echoes through to you. “I´ll be there in 10,” Jeno says and ends the phone call. You chuckle, recognizing the urgency and therefore assuming he is just as excited as you are. So you wait for him, not really caring much about your appearance or how messy your apartment looks. 

10 minutes later—just like he said—Jeno rings your doorbell. You let him in without checking, and just press the button. Footsteps hurry up the stairs, and seconds later he stands in front of you. There is no serious greeting. He just steps inside, takes off his shoes and jacket and rushes over to your couch. You follow and present the envelopes to him right when he sits down. 

“I am a bit scared to open them. You do it,” you prompt, much to Jeno´s despair. 

“But I am nervous, too. You do it,” he argues, giving you a puppy-like pout. 

You debate with yourself, eventually partially giving in. “I will open yours and you open mine.” 

“Deal.” His hand looks through the pile of letters and then takes out the one addressed to you. You watch on in anticipation as he fumbles with the paper of the envelope, almost getting so impatient, you are about to scold him for taking so long. But then, he actually opens it, reads it, and a smile starts to grow on his face. 

You want to rip out your hair with the way the seconds seem to pass like hours. And even though the boy starts smiling like a freak, you still assume the worst. “What does it say? Tell me.” 

“Well, I can tell you right now that you are getting busier again,  because certainly you are starting that job at the school next month,” he reveals and lays the paper on the table. 

You squeal with excitement, trying to contain a bit of it, because the man in front of you is also still waiting for an answer on his own application. So you give him the brightest grin ever, your eyes shining with happiness, and move to grab the envelope addressed to him. 

Feeling almost too overwhelmed, you get up as you open the paper, and walk back and forth in front of your coffee table. Jeno nervously watches you, scared of a negative result and fearing he will stay jobless for the rest of his life unless it´s fighting in a cage. 

The paper of the envelope is discarded, falling down to the floor while you unfold the letter and start reading it line by line. Your eyes flow over the words, and the more you read, the more you feel like you want to jump up and down in excitement again. 

Jeno can´t take it anymore. Your silence is too much for him, so he gets up too, slowly moving towards you. But when you are done reading the letter, and turn to him, you don´t say anything. You just take a few steps and jump into his arms, squealing like a little girl who's gotten the best birthday present in her whole life. 

“We are going to have lunch breaks together!” you say, trying not to yell into his ear as the words settle in for him. He holds your middle while comprehending what you just said. Then he blinks. And binks again, just to stare at you in disbelief. 

“I got the job?” he asks in disbelief, still feeling like he is currently dreaming and fearing that any moment now is the time for him to wake up. But when you nod eagerly, and grin at him, his smile grows. “Oh my god, I got a real job. I can´t believe it.” 

“Yes! I am so proud of you!” you keep squealing and actually jump up and down this time. And when the wave of disbelief finally disappears, Jeno pulls you closer to him and hugs you so strongly, you almost can´t breathe. 

After coming down from the initial high of excitement about both of you landing the jobs you wanted, you come to realize that there are two more envelopes on the table. Both of you glance at them with a bit of hesitancy. You are too scared to look at them, knowing they give you answers about your academic future. 

Jeno takes one of them slowly, playing with the edge of it a little. He debates on just opening it, but then he looks at you. “Should I…open them for you? Or do you want to do it yourself?” His voice comes out gentle, yet cautious. 

You exhale, and rub your sweaty palms on your sweatpants to dry them. “I…I think I should do it myself.” Your heart is pounding in your chest as Jeno holds out the envelope to you. You take it with a shaky hand and exhale once more. “The worst that can happen is that I have to wait a few more years and reapply. A rejection is not the end of the world.” 

The words are mainly to calm yourself down, but Jeno nods regardless. He knows how much this means to you because it's the first step to achieving your dream. So he looks at you, waiting for you to feel ready, and presses his thumbs. 

Taking the courage, your finger slips into the edge of the paper, tearing it open. Seconds later, you slowly pull out the actual letter. Your eyes are closed as you unfold it. There is another exhale that follows while the boy with you starts to hold his in anticipation for you. 

When you open your eyes, you read the name of the university first. From all the ones you applied to, this one was the one you wanted to get in most. Your first pick. You internally curse for pulling this one first, but now there is no going back anymore. 

You scan the first sentences, read the greeting, and then you start to decipher the words in regards to your application, eventually reading what it says out loud in a mumble. “...we are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to the Neo Culture Technology University of arts and social science.” 

The moment those words leave your mouth, your hand clasps it shut. You are in utter shock, rereading the same sentence over and over, barely believing what you are reading is actually standing on that paper. 

Jeno immediately walks over to you, happy to hear that your top pick decided to accept you, and he doesn't hold back from taking you in his arms and hugging you to share the happiness. “Congratulations. I am so happy for you. It´s finally going the way it´s supposed to go,” he says softly. 

You look up at him before burying your face in his shoulder and hugging him back, letter still in your hand. “God, I´m so happy,” you mumble against him, almost shedding a few tears of joy with the rush of adrenaline from the good news. Jeno smiles, too, intoxicated by your joy and the excitement from earlier. 

“You should open the other letter, too. Now you have no reason to fear anything anymore,” he suggests eventually. You nod, slowly letting go of him and going over to take the other envelope. Opening it doesn´t take you as long this time. And when you read what it says, your jaw drops once more. 

“They are accepting me, too…I have to decline one. This is…this is insane,” you stutter, too stunned to form straight sentences. When you look at the boy still standing close to you, you are met with a sweet smile and crescend eyes that stare at you with so much emotion, you almost choke. 

“See, there was no need to be scared. You are just that amazing,” he says, and sets his hand down on your shoulder to ground you a little and make sure you know this is all real. 

Hearing him say that, you smile back. “Thank you for believing in me. And sending out the applications. If it wasn´t for you doing that, I would still doubt myself and wait to finally do it myself.” 

“It´s nothing.” He shakes off your words. You want to argue but he stops you before you can. “Actually, there is one more thing we need an answer to, today,” he then mumbles, looking away and scratching the back of his head. 

You put down the papers, and look at him with a raised eyebrow, too confused about his statement. All envelopes are already opened. So what does he mean? 

Your silence makes him return his gaze to you. He is met with your puzzled expression and chuckles because he knows he has to elaborate. But before he does, he gently takes your wrist and guides you towards your couch so you can sit down with him. 

He doesn´t let go of it, either, once he sits down. Instead, his thumb starts drawing little circles onto your skin. You can sense the nervousness that´s suddenly coming from him, but you don´t push it. You wait for him to feel ready. 

Then, he finally faces you. “I…have no idea what the future has in store for either of us,” he starts, swallowing shortly after. His thumb even stops its movement on your wrist. “I know you are going to be busy with the second job and when you start your studies, but…” He stops. You recognize just how hard it is for him to keep going, even though you don´t know what he wants to say. 

You encourage him regardless. “Jeno, it´s okay.” Your voice is gentle. Careful not to break the fragile courage he has built to speak. 

And it lands. The words have an effect. Because in the next moment, his gaze finds yours again. He exhales another time, and goes on. “Y/N, I´ve started to like you a lot. And I´m really scared we are going to see each other less if we get so busy now. So I just…do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

There is silence. Then you let out a chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “Jeno, you are so cute, you know that?” you start and take his hand in yours. “I like you too. And of course I want to.” You smile now, a little overwhelmed by all the positive feelings. 

Immediately after you answer him, his eyes light up. He pulls you close for the third time, not knowing where to go with his joy, so his arms wrap around you and he buries his face in your neck. 

You reciprocate the embrace and brush your fingers through his hair, adoring this soft side of him that he's been showing more often recently. You really could get used to this. 

Jeno´s next words have you chuckle again. The boy really is just so silly sometimes, it´s simply too cute. “I am so happy right now, I could kiss you.” It sounds innocent, and you are sure he didn't fully realize what he said. 

“What´s stopping you?” you retort then, a lazy smile on your face. His head shoots up, surprised by the boldness, even though, really, he should have expected it. His eyes are wide until he recovers from this weird daze he is in with all the serotonin. Then, his hands cup your face, and in the next moment, he pulls you closer. You meet him in the middle, gently placing your lips on his as you kiss him with so much love. 

When you break apart, you are sure your face is going to cramp from all the smiling you´ve been doing the past half hour. But you don´t really care. There are too little ways to express just how lucky you feel right now. And you are sure, Jeno feels the same. 

۶ৎ

Six months later, you´ve gotten used to university life. It´s been a few weeks since you started courses, and you have to say, it´s exactly what you´ve been looking forward to. You finally feel like all the work and stress was for something. That you finally reached the first goal in your life, defeating the doubt your parents showed you. 

You´ve decided to stop working at the midnight cafe a month ago as well, feeling that the job at the school and studying at university is enough for you now. You are happy with what you are doing and you wouldn´t want it any other way, even if that cafe holds a lot of memories and beginnings for you. 

You see Jeno often. For one because he literally works in the same building, sharing lunch breaks with you as planned, and for the other, because you are currently looking for a bigger apartment so the two of you can move in together. 

The big step lights a new fire inside of you. Life has been so forgiving now that you´ve established this rhythm with him. If anyone saw you two together, they would definitely judge you as the happiest couple on the planet right now. It feels so great to breathe again, not having to worry about the issues you resolved together in the past. Even though you had to give that stressful time the benefit of the doubt. It's precisely because of those times that you found new friendship and love. 

If you had the chance to change anything, you wouldn´t dare to do anything. Times were rough, yes. But you wouldn't want to risk changing the outcome. Diving into all these unknown things, holding up the belief in yourself and Jeno. It´s what brought you this happy ending. 

As you walk through the corridors of the university, you think you dwelled enough in the past. It's fun to think back time and time again, remembering how everything came to be, but now the focus is on what's ahead of you. 

So when you push open the doors, breathe in the warm summer air, and see the red haired boy stand on the sidewalk—Bom in his arms happily waving—you can't help but smile. You take your bag into your hand and start hopping down the stairs, making your way towards them. 

The moment you reach them, you place your lips on Jeno´s, then you greet the small girl. The little girl mirrors your smile and laughs happily. “How was your day?” Jeno asks, looking at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes, you are sure everyone around you knows he´s down bad. 

“Oh, definitely interesting. Today the prof had a whole speech about some students being on their phones too much during the classes. I had to hold my mouth shut to not laugh out loud because he kept on going about it, constantly repeating himself. And by the time he was done, the class was over which made him even angrier.” You chuckle as you tell him about your day. 

While you talk, you start walking, enjoying the warm breeze of the wind and the sunshine that meets your skin. Bom eventually starts to move a lot so Jeno sets her down, instead taking her hand and leisurely walking with her alongside you. He laughs whenever you say something funny, or asks questions about the few new friends you've made. 

“Right, this reminds me, Karina asked me if I had a daughter the other day. She really thought Bom was our kid.” You chuckle while saying this. But the shade of red that starts to grace Jeno´s ears doesn´t go past you either. 

Some images pop up in his head while you mention it. He tries to contain himself, but your expression tells him there is no need. “What did you say?” he asks, curious.

“I teased her at first, but then told her the truth. Still, it was quite the talk. And then I had to think about you, because honestly, Bom kind of does feel like a daughter. And while she is just your little sister, she matters just as much to me,” you answer honestly, putting certain words in quotation marks. 

Jeno smiles hearing that. He knows you care about Bom as much as he does, so he appreciates you mentioning it. “Anyway, are you ready to meet Jaemin and Yuqi later? Can´t believe we are clubbing for the first time since forever.” Your voice breaks through, again, reminding him of your plans. 

“I told them we will have a playdate with Bomi first and get ready once we bring her back to my aunt. So I hope they don´t get on our nerves if we are late. But over all, I have to say I am actually quite excited,” he reveals, laughing a little while he imagines Jaemin scolding him for not coming earlier. 

You giggle, too, and take Bom´s other hand when she pulls at your pants for your attention. “If he complains just tell me. I will scold him in return for still working at that shady ass club.” This makes Jeno laugh even more. He knows you´ve tried to get Jaemin to do something more honest, too, but his best friend is just way too stubborn. He recalls the way he argued that he first has to find himself a girlfriend the same way he did. So unless such a girl comes and drags him out of the club, he won´t change careers anytime soon. 

You keep walking and joking around more while making your way to the playground. Jeno has packed some sandwiches he takes out when you arrive. And then, after eating, you start playing with the little girl, pushing her on the swings or helping her climb the wooden pirate ship in the sandpit. Jeno watches you, eventually joining in on the fun. 

۶ৎ

Later that night, as promised, and after saying goodbye to his little sister, he walks with you, hand in hand. The bass is audible outside. And the moment you step inside, the music hits you head on. You don´t mind, however. You are looking forward to having some fun with your boyfriend, and so is he. 

You two greet Jaemin when you finally see him. The boy teases his friend and then you. “Hey, snow lion, long time no see. How is it going.” 

Laughter escapes you as you hit his upper arm playfully. “Yah, bunny boy, how about you tell me where my best friend is? She texted me she´s already here,” you retort, earning yourself an amused look from Jeno. 

Jaemin, who is used to this kind of banter with you already, points towards the bar. Of course Yuqi is there. You excuse yourself for a moment to get her and help her with the drinks. And while you are away, Jeno catches up with his friend. “Ready for a fight?” the boy teases. 

Jeno shakes his head amused. “Those times are over. If anything, I gotta watch you in there. You used to fight, too. Where did the courage go, huh?” he teases playfully. The conversation keeps going, and when you return with the young woman, carrying 4 glasses of different concoctions of alcohol with her, the boys help you by taking one from each of you. 

For the rest of the night, the atmosphere stays great. The four of you enjoy the music, the drinks. Eventually, you find yourself close to your boyfriend. His hands are resting on your hips as you closely dance together. There is a familiar tension between you two. And while you look like a normal couple to anyone else that watches, only the two of you understand how intimate this moment really feels. 

It carries similarities to other memories. The location itself too. In general, everything has so much connection, and holds so much meaning. It makes this evening even better. 

In the end, your lips find each other's again and again. Each kiss seals a decision. And soon enough, it´s no longer the dance floor you are on, but the changing room that has to give in to your desire for each other. 

The passion you share now, reflects all the hardships you´ve been through together. And unlike at the start, you now move like a team—in harmony, aware that the other will always be there, and that neither of you have to solely rely on yourselves anymore. Everything that once forced you to stand alone led you here. And this time, you don't have to face the unknown by yourselves anymore.

an: I hope whoever read this liked it. I know the romance wasn't the main focus but I had many scenes in mind and wanted to write a story that connects them. It just so happened that this story turned more into a piece of slice of life instead of full on romance. I just wanted their relationship to happen naturally throughout all that happens, and show how some of these types of situations can bring people closer. I am also aware that the smut part might not be up to par, but honestly, I am surprised I even added it in. My focus wasn't on the whole physical aspects of a relationship hehe. And technically, this is my first time writing smut too, so don't be too hard on me 👉👈 Anyway, I hope I didn't disappoint with this. If you want to read something more lengthy and even more slow burn, I would be really happy if you guys check out my other work Eden. It's a lengthy fic that's still ongoing, but I have a lot in mind for it and I hope it won't get boring. Likes, comments, reblogs are all appreciated 💕

With lots of love from your favorite yapper (or not. I have big competition with Chenle and Mark. I'm aware) Bye👋

tags: @withlovemark, @7dreambaby, @notmastyle, @nana888888, @aeioa, @ypoom151999, @adiknyamingyu, @strawbabyz, @mixxie2203, @briii-14, @nah140508,