Katara 🍓

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🍓 - smut

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[jikookncity]

Criminal!Donghyuck x Reader (Smut - repost)

Y/n has the best most filthy hookup of her life with a mysteriously hot guy, only realizing he's a criminal weeks later when she hears his voice on the news...too bad he comes back for more...

WC: 7.2k (total), unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, oral sex, semi-public oral sex

-------------

The bar was alive in that kind of way it only got on weekends—dim lighting, low bass thrumming through the floorboards, bodies pressed together in slow, lazy movements on the dance floor. Y/N sat at the counter, one leg crossed over the other, nursing a drink she didn’t even like. The ice clinked softly every time she swirled the glass, her eyes lazily scanning the crowd, pretending she wasn’t bored out of her mind.

She didn’t notice him at first. Not until the air seemed to shift—subtle, but undeniable—like someone had just entered the room and taken up more than their fair share of it. Her gaze flicked toward the door, and that’s when she saw him.

He didn’t move like the others. Didn’t shove his way through the crowd, didn’t glance around to see who was watching. He knew people were watching. He was tall, lean, dressed in all black—dark jacket over a fitted shirt that did nothing to hide the cut of his frame. His hair was dark, messy in a way that looked intentional, and his eyes… sharp, unreadable, scanning the room until they landed right on her.

It was like being hit with a jolt of static.

She looked away first. She didn’t know why. But a few moments later, she felt the empty barstool beside her shift.

“You always look this bored,” he asked, voice low and smooth, “or is tonight special?”

She turned her head, finding him much closer than she expected, his arm resting casually on the counter, his eyes locked on hers like he already knew her answer.

“Depends on who’s asking,” she said, matching his tone.

His mouth curved into something between a smirk and a dare. “Haechan.”

He didn’t offer a hand. Just a name, like it was enough.

The bartender appeared, and without looking away from her, Haechan ordered something—something expensive, judging by the slight raise of the bartender’s brow. Then he turned the glass toward her instead of himself.

“You strike me as someone who could use something stronger than… whatever that is,” he said, nodding at her drink.

Normally, she would have bristled. But there was something about him that made her lean into it instead of away.

One drink became two. Two became three. By the time they were leaning in close, shoulders brushing, his hand resting dangerously near her thigh, she’d stopped wondering why her pulse wouldn’t slow down.

When he finally said, “Wanna get out of here?” it wasn’t even a question.

They didn’t speak much on the walk to the hotel. The silence wasn’t awkward—if anything, it was charged. Y/N’s heels clicked against the pavement in quick rhythm, but Haechan’s steps were slower, confident, like he knew exactly where this night was going and didn’t need to rush.

By the time the elevator doors slid shut, his hand was already at her waist, pulling her in until her back met the mirrored wall. His breath was warm against her ear when he spoke.

“You’ve been looking at me like you want me to ruin you all night,” he murmured, his tone low, dangerous.

Her lips parted, but she didn’t get the chance to answer—his mouth was on hers, hard and hungry. His hands roamed like he had every right to touch her, sliding over her hips, gripping the curve of her ass through her dress. She gasped into the kiss when he squeezed, and he used the opening to lick into her mouth, deep and claiming.

When the elevator dinged, he pulled back just enough to smirk at her swollen lips. “Room 804. Move.”

She barely remembered the walk down the hall before they were inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

Haechan was on her instantly, spinning her so her back hit the door, his hands braced on either side of her head. “You like giving control away, sweetheart?”

Her pulse jumped. “Maybe.”

“That’s not an answer.” His hand slid up her thigh, dragging the hem of her dress with it. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” she breathed, and his grin widened like he’d been waiting for it.

The dress was gone before she could think about modesty, pooling at her feet while he drank in the sight of her. He didn’t bother hiding the hunger in his eyes as he pressed her against the door again, his thumb grazing her already-damp panties.

“Look at you,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “So wet for me already. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice breaking slightly.

“Not good enough.” He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up until their eyes locked. “Say it like you meanit.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

That earned her a kiss so deep it stole the air from her lungs. He pulled her toward the bed, stripping off his own jacket and shirt on the way. His body was lean, toned, and every movement screamed cocky self-assurance.

When she reached for his belt, he caught her wrists, pushing her down onto the mattress. “Uh-uh. You don’t touch unless I say you can.”

He knelt between her thighs, dragging her panties down slowly, like he wanted her to squirm. When he tossed them aside, he spread her knees wide, his gaze dark and heavy as it roamed over her.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

The words made heat pool low in her belly. She obeyed, and he smirked like she’d just handed him the win. His fingers were on her first—slow at the start, teasing—then rougher, curling deep until her back arched off the bed.

“Such a good little thing,” he murmured, watching her writhe. “You take my fingers so well. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”

When she was a mess beneath him, he finally freed himself, the sight of him making her mouth go dry. He didn’t rush, just stroked himself lazily while looking her over like she was something he owned already.

Then he was over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other guiding himself to her entrance. “This is going to ruin you for anyone else.”

And he was right. The thrust was deep, hard, making her cry out. He fucked her like he had something to prove, his hips snapping against hers, each thrust punctuated by filthy praise and taunts—telling her how tight she was, how perfect she felt, how she was made for him to use.

When she clawed at his back, he caught her wrists again, pinning them above her head. “Stay still. Take it. That’s all you have to do.”

Her moans filled the room, mixing with the slap of skin and his ragged breathing. He bent down to bite her neck, licking over the mark after. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes—oh god—”

“Do it. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

When she did, it was intense, shattering, her body tightening around him in pulsing waves. He fucked her through it, groaning when he spilled inside her, his thrusts finally slowing.

He kissed her once more—slow this time—before pulling back, that smirk returning. “Told you. Ruined.”

Y/N woke to an empty bed.

For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the dent in the pillow where his head had been. The sheets smelled like him—clean soap, faint cologne, and something darker she couldn’t quite place. The memories from last night flashed back in sharp, heated fragments: the elevator, his hands, his voice in her ear telling her exactly what to do.

Her thighs ached in the best way.

Rolling onto her back, she caught sight of the clock. Late. She groaned, dragging herself up and finding her dress crumpled on the floor. There was no note. No phone number. Just the echo of his smirk burned into her brain.

By the time she slid into a booth at the little café near her apartment, her best friend, Mina, was already there—iced coffee in hand and a knowing grin on her face.

“You’re late,” Mina said, eyes dropping to Y/N’s oversized hoodie and messy hair. “And… you look like you just rolled out of bed. From someone else’s bed.”

Y/N bit her lip, sliding into the seat. “Okay, so… I might have had a night.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “Tell me everything.”

Y/N leaned in, lowering her voice even though the café wasn’t crowded. “Met him at the bar. Tall, hot, this stupid cocky smirk that should have been illegal. He bought me a drink and—” She stopped, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Mina, it was… the best sex of my life.”

“Oh my god.” Mina covered her mouth, then dropped her hand. “Details. Now.”

Y/N looked around once more before continuing. “He was… rough. But perfect. Said all the right things, like he could read my mind. At one point—” She paused, shivering at the memory. “At one point he looked at me and said ‘open up for me, sweetheart’. And I did. Like instantly. I didn’t even think.”

Mina fanned herself dramatically. “Okay, keep going.”

“He wouldn’t let me touch him unless he said so,” Y/N admitted, smirking a little. “And when I came, he—god—he told me he wanted to feel me fall apart around him. It was filthy. I loved every second of it.”

Mina shook her head, grinning. “So when’s round two?”

Y/N’s smirk faded just a little. “That’s the thing… when I woke up, he was gone. No note. No number. Nothing.”

Mina raised a brow. “Mysterious. Maybe he’ll pop up again.”

Y/N stirred her coffee, trying to hide how much she hoped so. “Yeah… maybe.”

But even as they switched topics, she knew she’d recognize that smirk anywhere—and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find him, or if she should run the other way if she did.

-----------

The sizzle of garlic in the pan filled her small kitchen, the scent curling warm and familiar through the air. Y/N moved lazily between the counter and the stove, wooden spoon in hand, humming faintly to herself. The TV was on in the living room, volume low—background noise she barely paid attention to most nights.

“…in other news, police are still investigating the underground street racing gang suspected in a string of high-end car thefts across the city…”

She half-listened, tossing the pasta into the pot, steam clouding up in front of her.

“…the group is believed to be highly organized, with members able to bypass advanced security systems in minutes. Authorities have yet to identify any suspects, but earlier this week, surveillance audio captured what they believe to be the gang’s leader…”

Her hand froze on the spoon.

“…the voice was recorded whispering something to himself while working to unlock a car. Investigators say it could be a personal quirk—possibly a code phrase. We warn viewers, the clip is faint but clear.”

She turned toward the living room without meaning to, her brows knitting together as the reporter continued.

And then—

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t grainy enough to hide the tone. That deep, low rumble. The way the word sweetheartcurled at the edges, dripping with command.

Y/N’s whole body went rigid, the steam from the stove curling around her as her mind stuttered.

No. No, it couldn’t be—

But the moment it hit her ears, her body remembered. The weight of him above her. The heat of his breath against her ear. That exact same line, whispered while she lay beneath him, trembling, her back arching into his touch.

Her knees felt unsteady.

The anchor kept speaking, explaining how police hoped the clip might lead to tips from the public, but she barely heard a word. Her heart thudded in her chest as they played it again.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

She stumbled toward the couch, grabbing the remote with shaky fingers, rewinding. Playing it again. And again. Every repetition sent a sharp shiver down her spine.

It was him. It was Haechan.

She sank onto the couch, her dinner forgotten in the kitchen, the only thing she could hear was his voice filling the quiet apartment—over and over—until it was impossible to deny the truth.

The man who’d given her the best night of her life was the leader of a gang the police couldn’t catch.

And she knew that voice better than anyone.

-----------

The garage smelled like motor oil and adrenaline. The hum of a stripped-down Nissan idled low in the background, the hood up, exposed wiring glinting under the harsh white lights. Haechan was crouched beside it, a smudge of grease on his forearm, his focus razor-sharp on the delicate lock bypass he’d been perfecting.

The metallic click of the door opening announced Mark before his voice did.

“They got your voice on tape,” Mark said flatly, stepping inside.

Haechan didn’t look up right away, just kept working, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “Cops get lots of things on tape. Doesn’t mean they know what they’re listening to.”

Mark leaned against the workbench, arms crossed. “This time, they’re playing it on the damn news.”

That made Haechan pause. Slowly, he straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Let me hear it.”

Mark pulled out his phone, scrolling, then hit play.

“Open up for me, sweetheart.”

The voice—his voice—rolled out into the garage, low and intimate even in the grainy recording.

And Haechan froze.

Because he remembered saying it. Not here. Not to himself over a lock. But to her. Weeks ago, her knees open under his hands, her eyes glassy with need, the little breathless yes she’d given him right after.

Heat flared low in his gut, memory slamming into him so hard it stole his breath.

Her soft gasps as he slid into her. The way she squeezed around him, so fucking tight it had him gritting his teeth. The sight of her arching under him, mouth falling open as she obeyed every filthy word he gave her.

He hadn’t been able to hook up with anyone since. Not for lack of trying—he’d had offers. But every time he touched someone else, it felt wrong. They weren’t her. They didn’t make his control slip the way she did.

He tossed the rag onto the bench and grabbed his jacket.

Mark blinked. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Out,” Haechan said, already heading for the door.

“That’s it? You’re not even gonna—”

“Lock up the garage when you’re done,” he cut in, not slowing.

Mark’s voice followed him out. “You’re not telling me something.”

Haechan didn’t bother answering. He was already in the driver’s seat, engine roaring to life. His mind wasn’t on the job, or the risk, or the cops—it was on Y/N. On the way she’d looked up at him that night. On the sound she’d made when he told her to open up for him.

And if she’d seen that news clip…

He pressed harder on the gas. He needed to see her.

It was nearly midnight when the knock came.

Y/N froze halfway through brushing her teeth, the sound echoing through her quiet apartment. No one came by this late. No one except—

Her pulse quickened. She didn’t need to look through the peephole. There was only one person who would knock like that—three firm raps, a pause, then two more.

She pulled on her robe, tying the belt tighter as she stepped into the hall. And there he was.

Haechan stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, hood up, shadows hiding half his face. But his eyes… she’d know them anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low but steady.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You know why I’m here.”

She crossed her arms, the robe tugging tighter across her chest. “Do I?”

His gaze sharpened. “I know you know it’s me. It’s all over the news.”

Y/N’s breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “The second I heard it… I knew.” She swallowed, fingers tightening on the robe belt. “It was you.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

“But I’m not going to tell anyone,” she continued. “I don’t care what you’ve done… it’s not my business. But it means we can’t—” She hesitated, the words catching. “We can’t see each other anymore.”

Something flickered in his expression—amusement, maybe, or defiance. Then he stepped closer, close enough for her to smell the faint trace of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body.

“You really think I’m going to walk away that easy?” he murmured.

Before she could answer, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. His mouth was hot, demanding, pulling a sharp gasp from her before she melted against him. Her hands were at his chest, meaning to push him back—but instead, they curled into his jacket as his tongue slid against hers, his body crowding hers into the doorframe.

She kissed him back. Hard. Like she’d been starving for it.

When she finally broke away, breathless, her hand pressed lightly to his chest—not shoving, but holding him there. “You have to stop coming here.”

He didn’t move for a beat, eyes locked on hers, lips curved in that infuriating smirk. But when she stepped back, he let her go.

She turned, retreating inside without looking back, the door clicking shut between them.

In the dark of her bedroom, she lay staring at the ceiling, heart still pounding.

What the hell was going on in her life?

----------------

The night air was thick with gasoline, smoke, and bass-heavy music that rattled the cracked pavement. Y/N stood near the edge of the crowd, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket, watching the chaos unfold.

Mina had dragged her here, bright-eyed with her new boyfriend in tow, gushing about how “street racing is way more fun than it sounds.” Y/N had almost said no. But maybe, she thought, it was time to put Haechan firmly in the past. Maybe she could meet someone new tonight. Someone who didn’t vanish after wrecking her self-control, and definitely someone who wasn’t a walking red flag.

Engines roared at the starting line, headlights flaring against the dark. Y/N let her gaze wander over the lineup—sleek bodies of metal and chrome, paint jobs that gleamed under the scattered floodlights.

Then one particular car rolled forward.

It was impossible not to notice. Low to the ground, jet black with tinted windows that hid the driver completely—until the glass began to roll down.

Her stomach dropped.

Haechan.

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[jikookncity]

Donghyuck x Reader (Exes to Lovers)

Y/n meets her best friends new boyfriend...too bad it turns out to be her own ex boyfriend, the one and only Lee Donghyuck. 

WC: 14k 

Warnings: Unprotected sex, teasing!donghyuck, angst + fluff (happy ending) 

----------------

The airport buzzed with laughter, the kind that only comes from people who’ve been waiting for this trip for months. Someone was already talking about which beaches to hit first, someone else about the rooftop bars and the boat parties.

Y/N rolled her suitcase toward the group, sunglasses perched on her head, linen shirt fluttering in the breeze sneaking through the open doors. Greece smelled like salt and sunscreen and something close to freedom. She smiled to herself — she needed this. A week away from work, from routine, from anything that reminded her of him.

“Okay, everyone’s here!” Lina chirped, her excitement contagious. She was practically vibrating as she checked her phone again. “He’s outside waiting for us!”

“He?” Mark teased, grinning as he bumped her shoulder. “The mysterious boyfriend you’ve been hiding from us?”

Lina only giggled, cheeks pink. “You’ll see.”

Y/N smirked, tugging her tote higher on her shoulder. “Finally, we get to meet the man who stole our girl.”

Lina laughed again but didn’t answer — she was already darting toward the sliding glass doors, suitcase rolling behind her. The rest of them followed, still joking, still unaware that the air was about to shift.

And it did. The second Y/N stepped into the sun and saw him.

Her heart stopped.

Then dropped.

Donghyuck.

He stood near a white rental van, tan skin glowing against a loose white button-up, sleeves rolled to his forearms, hair darker and messier than she remembered. Two years had passed, but God — he still looked like every memory she tried to forget. The same smirk shape to his lips, though right now it was gone, replaced by wide eyes as Lina sprinted into his arms.

“Oh my god, baby!” Lina squealed, jumping on him. He caught her easily, laughing softly — and then his gaze lifted.

Straight to Y/N.

It was like the world tilted. For a second, he just stilled, arms still around Lina, every muscle in his body locking up. His smile faded, replaced by shock — and something else. Something that looked too close to ache.

Y/N’s lungs burned.

No one knew. Not a single person in this group had any idea.

She’d dated him for three years. Three years of coffee runs, road trips, late-night fights, and mornings where she thought they’d last forever. Three years of love and chaos and him calling her his whole damn world — until they weren’t.

And now… he was Lina’s boyfriend.

Lina turned toward the group, still holding onto his arm. “Everyone, this is Hyuck!” she beamed. “Hyuck, this is everyone — Mark, Jaemin, Jeno, Y/N—”

Y/N.

The sound of her name broke something open in the air.

Donghyuck’s throat bobbed. For a second, he didn’t move — didn’t breathe. Then, as if forcing himself, he extended a hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, voice rougher than she remembered.

Y/N’s fingers trembled as she reached for his. Her pulse thundered against her ribs, her smile too bright, too sharp. “Nice to meet you too.”

Their hands met. Skin on skin.

And it hit them both — that familiar spark, the kind that used to feel like home.

She pulled back instantly, almost like it burned.

Jaemin, ever the oblivious peacekeeper, threw an arm around her shoulders, grinning wide. “This trip’s gonna be fun, huh?”

Y/N forced a laugh, but her eyes flicked one last time to Donghyuck. He was still staring.

And from the way his jaw clenched — she knew.

He wasn’t ready for this either.

The summer heat hit like a furnace the second they stepped outside. The van was a toaster in the sun, the air thick with sunscreen and the smell of blooming olive trees.

Hyuck rolled up his sleeves, helping Mark and Jaemin load bags into the trunk, his movements quick and practiced. He was talking — laughing, even — but his voice didn’t sound like him. Not really.

Y/N tried to lift her own suitcase, but before she could swing it up, Hyuck was there.

“I got it,” he said quietly.

“It’s fine, I can—”

“I said I got it.”

Their fingers brushed when he took the handle from her. Her breath hitched, and for a heartbeat, they both froze — the air between them humming with something too familiar. Then he looked away, sliding the suitcase into the van like it was nothing.

She swallowed hard. “Thanks.”

His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t answer.

Lina appeared a second later, throwing her arms around him from behind. “You’re so helpful baby,” she giggled.

He smiled — or tried to. But it was stiff, his body not quite moving with hers. Y/N saw the faraway look in his eyes before he blinked it away, nodding absently as Lina kissed his shoulder.

“Alright, everyone in!” Mark called out, already climbing into the front passenger seat.

Y/N slipped into the van, settling into the second row by the window. She closed her eyes, pressing her hand to her forehead, trying to breathe. The hum of conversation blurred around her — Jaemin cracking a joke, Jeno teasing Mark about his playlist, Lina’s laugh cutting through everything.

She didn’t open her eyes again, even when she felt it — his gaze. Through the rearview mirror, Hyuck’s eyes found her reflection. He lingered there, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel, the curve of his mouth unreadable.

He shouldn’t have looked. But he couldn’t not.

For almost two hours, the van rolled through winding roads, golden hills fading into lush countryside. The group sang, argued over snacks, pointed out random goats. Y/N stayed quiet, pretending to nap while her mind screamed.

Her ex — her college boyfriend, her first love — was Lina’s boyfriend.

And now she was stuck with him in Greece. For the summer.

--------------------

They finally reached it — a sun-drenched villa perched above a lake so blue it looked unreal. The tiny town nearby shimmered in the distance, roofs terracotta against endless sky.

Everyone tumbled out of the van, immediately gasping and cheering.

“Holy crap, Hyuck, this place is insane!” Jeno said, spinning in a slow circle.

“Your cousin’s rich rich,” Mark added, eyes wide as he took in the white stucco walls and blooming bougainvillea.

Hyuck just smiled faintly. “Yeah. He said we could use it for the summer, so… make yourselves at home.”

He began unloading the bags, one by one — including hers. He didn’t ask where it went; somehow, he remembered she always preferred rooms with a view. When he carried her luggage upstairs, the large window overlooking the lake glowed gold with sunset.

She turned, startled, as he set it down gently by the bed.

“Thanks,” she said again, softer this time.

He nodded, eyes flicking around the room once before stepping back. “You got the best view,” he murmured.

“I guess being the only girl other than Lina has its perks.”

Downstairs, the boys groaned in protest when they saw the layout.

“Wait, wait, wait— Y/N gets her own room?” Jaemin complained.

Jeno threw an arm over her shoulder dramatically. “Unfair. I’m calling it now — I’m sneaking in tonight and stealing her bed.”

Everyone laughed, even Y/N, nudging him off with a grin.

Everyone except Hyuck.

He stood by the door, one hand still gripping his water bottle, eyes on Jeno’s arm draped casually over her shoulders. His jaw worked once, then he looked away quickly, forcing a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Alright,” he said, his voice steady. “Everyone settle in. We’ll unpack, grab dinner in town later. Just… relax.”

Y/N nodded absently, watching him disappear down the hall with Lina clinging to his arm.

The sunset glowed across the lake, and for a moment, she thought about how it used to feel — him carrying her bags into their shared dorm after long trips, him brushing her hair out of her face, him smiling like she was the only one he saw.

Now he wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

---------------

The villa was quiet by the time the sun began to set. Someone had drawn the curtains in the living room, soft snores coming from Mark and Jaemin tangled on the couch.

Jeno was asleep half-sitting against the wall, and Lina had curled into Hyuck’s side upstairs, mumbling something about “just ten minutes” before drifting off completely.

But Y/N couldn’t sleep.

She’d tried — closed her eyes, turned on her side, even counted waves lapping against the shore — but her mind wouldn’t quiet. It kept circling back to the way he’d looked at her earlier, the brief, stunned silence between them, the ache she’d felt all over again.

When the sky turned the color of honey and flame, she gave up and slipped outside.

The air was cooler now, brushing against her skin as she walked down the path toward the lake. The water shimmered like glass, the surface catching the sunset in ripples. She found a small bench near the dock and sat down, exhaling slowly.

It was beautiful. And it hurt.

She stared at the reflection of the sky on the lake until she heard it — quiet footsteps crunching against the gravel.

Her chest tightened before she even turned.

Donghyuck.

He looked different in the fading light — softer somehow, hair tousled, the collar of his shirt undone. He stopped beside the bench, hesitating for a beat before speaking.

“Can I sit?”

She nodded wordlessly.

He lowered himself beside her, a careful space between them, hands clasped loosely in his lap. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The cicadas hummed, the sun dipped lower, and the world felt suspended — like the universe was holding its breath.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Can we talk?”

Y/N turned to him, eyes cautious. “Yeah.”

He exhaled, shoulders relaxing slightly. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he started quietly. “Lina didn’t tell me who her friends were. And when I saw you at the airport, I—” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching humorlessly. “I thought I was dreaming.”

She nodded slowly. “I had no idea either. Lina never said a name, just that she had a boyfriend she wanted me to meet.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s what I figured.”

Silence again — heavy but not hostile.

Then, with a low sigh, he added, “For what it’s worth… I never would’ve even looked her way if I knew she was your best friend.” His voice softened, guilt threaded through every word. “I never wanted things to get this messy or complicated.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She looked down at her hands, twisting her ring. “That means a lot,” she said softly. Then, forcing a small smile, she added, “And… I’m happy for you. Really. Lina’s great.”

Hyuck’s lips pressed into a straight line. He didn’t say thank you, didn’t agree — just stared out at the lake, his expression unreadable.

After a long moment, he asked quietly, “Are you seeing anyone?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “No. Not at the moment.”

He nodded, eyes still fixed on the horizon.

They talked a little after that. About work, about mutual friends, about how he’d moved cities for a while before coming back. It felt strange — familiar and foreign all at once. He still laughed the same, still tilted his head when he listened. But every time their eyes met, she felt that same sharp pull in her chest.

When their conversation finally slowed, Hyuck leaned back slightly, exhaling. “It’s been a long time,” he said quietly. “I know we had… hurt feelings back then. But maybe we could try to be...friends? Or at least friendly?”

Y/N hesitated.

Friends.

She didn’t want that. Didn’t know how to sit across from him, to pretend the years they spent loving each other meant nothing. But she also saw Lina’s smile in her mind — her best friend, happy and unsuspecting — and she couldn’t bring herself to say no.

So she nodded. “Sure,” she said softly. “For Lina.”

He looked at her, relief flickering across his face. “Alright.”

The air settled again. Neither of them moved. The lake rippled gently under the last of the sun, painting their reflections in gold.

And there they sat — side by side, quiet, pretending that “alright” didn’t hurt as much as it did.

---------------

By the time everyone woke up, night had crept softly over the lake. The villa glowed with warm light, the scent of roasted herbs and olive oil drifting through the open windows.

“Hyuck!” Mark called as he walked into the kitchen. “Dude, what is that smell? I’m starving.”

Hyuck looked up from the stove, a faint smile curving his lips. “Just something simple for the first night,” he said, brushing his hands on a towel. “Thought we’d start with Greek food—chicken souvlaki, lemon potatoes, tzatziki, all that.”

“Simple, he says,” Jaemin teased, peeking over his shoulder. “Looks like a five-star meal, chef.”

Lina wrapped her arms around Hyuck from behind, beaming. “You’re amazing,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. “It smells incredible.”

He smiled faintly, murmured a quiet thanks—but the moment her lips left his skin, his gaze drifted. Straight to Y/N.

She froze for a heartbeat, pretending not to notice, then quickly busied herself helping Jeno set the table.

When everyone finally sat down outside under the string lights, the lake glimmering below, it almost felt perfect. The night hummed with cicadas, the air warm, laughter easy.

Hyuck placed the last dish in the center, the golden chicken steaming in the cool breeze. “Dig in,” he said, sitting beside Lina, who immediately piled food onto his plate.

Y/N took a piece of the chicken, forcing herself to act normal, to breathe, to smile. But the moment the first bite hit her tongue, everything inside her went still.

The flavor—lemon, garlic, rosemary—was his. The same seasoning. The same faint char. The same warmth.

And suddenly, she wasn’t sitting by the lake anymore.

-----------------

College apartment. Tiny kitchen. Smoke everywhere.

“Hyuck! Oh my God, you’re going to set off the alarm!”

“It’s fine! It’s fine—wait, okay, maybe not fine—”

The smoke detector blared to life, high-pitched and shrill. Y/N panicked, waving a towel frantically. “Open a window!”

Hyuck coughed, laughing helplessly as smoke billowed out of the pan. “I swear I followed the recipe—”

“Hyuck, it’s burning!”

She rushed forward, grabbing the pan with oven mitts and shoving it under running water. It hissed and spat, steam rising everywhere.

He was still laughing, leaning against the counter. “We’re a disaster.”

“You’re a disaster,” she shot back, but she was laughing too now, cheeks flushed.

He stepped closer, eyes softening as the noise died down. “You love it though.”

Before she could reply, his hands slid around her waist, pulling her close. He kissed her—deep, slow, tasting like smoke and laughter.

“Maybe we should just order food,” he murmured against her lips.

“Yeah,” she giggled, tugging him in again. “We should.”

----------------

The sound of Jaemin’s voice snapped her back to the present. “Y/N?”

She blinked, choking slightly on her bite. “What?”

“You okay? You looked like you were about to die.”

“Yeah,” she rasped, grabbing her glass and taking a long drink of water, trying to drown the rush of memory. “Just… went down the wrong way.”

Jaemin chuckled, leaning closer. “Careful, or we’ll have to perform the Heimlich.”

She smiled weakly, and before she could reach for her napkin, he was already brushing his thumb over the corner of her lips. “You got sauce,” he said, grinning.

“Thanks,” she murmured, cheeks heating.

Neither of them noticed the way Hyuck’s eyes snapped to them. The way his jaw tightened just slightly.

He looked away a second later, laughing at something Jeno said, pouring Lina more wine. But his movements were a little too controlled, his smile a little too smooth.

Around the table, the night melted into easy conversation. Mark and Jaemin argued about who’d get the biggest bed, Jeno and Hyuck traded music recommendations, Lina rested her head on Hyuck’s shoulder, giggling softly.

And Y/N? She smiled. Laughed when they did. Pretended her chest didn’t ache.

Hyuck fit in perfectly—like nothing was out of place. But every now and then, when the light caught him just right, she’d see it. The same distant look from earlier. The one that said he was somewhere else entirely.

Probably with her. Just like she was still somewhere with him.

--------------

The villa slept under a blanket of moonlight. The laughter from dinner had long faded; the only sounds left were the steady hum of crickets and the faint splash of water against the dock.

But Y/N couldn’t sleep.

She’d been lying there for what felt like hours, the sheets twisted around her legs, the ceiling a blur above her. Her heart wouldn’t calm down — not after the way he’d looked at her, not after the way the food had brought everything back.

It was only the first day, and she already felt unravelled.

Finally, she gave up. Slipping into a cardigan, she padded barefoot through the quiet halls and out onto the patio. The night air was cool, the scent of pine and lake water sharp in her lungs. The moon hung huge above the hills, its reflection trembling across the dark water.

She almost felt calm — until she saw him.

A shadow near the railing, faint orange light flickering in the dark. Smoke curled up into the night, slow and lazy, catching the moonlight.

Her breath caught.

“Hyuck?”

He startled slightly, eyes still half-closed as he exhaled another stream of smoke. When he turned toward her, his expression softened, just a flicker.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, stepping closer. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.” Her gaze dropped to the cigarette between his fingers. “...I also didn’t know that you smoke now.”

He gave a small, tired laugh. “Yeah. Nobody does. Especially not Lina.”

She raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know?”

He shook his head. “She’d hate it if she found out I started again.” He flicked the ash into a tray, glancing at her. “Do me a favor and keep this between us?”

Something bitter twisted in her chest. “Another secret to keep from her. Great.”

His eyes lifted to hers, sharp this time, really looking at her. Up and down. “Don’t start with me,” he muttered. “I can deal with my stress however I want.”

“Yeah,” she said flatly. “You can do whatever you want. That’s what you do all the time anyway.”

That hit him. He scoffed, exhaling hard through his nose. “Still as judgey as ever, huh?”

“Still as defensive as ever,” she shot back. “I just forgot how you always manage to make everything about you.”

“Funny,” he said, turning toward her fully now. “You’re the one who came out here to pick a fight.”

“I came out here for air,” she snapped. “Didn’t realize I’d be breathing in your bad habits too.”

“Wow,” he laughed without humor, flicking the cigarette away. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you.”

The words hung there, cold and heavy, the silence after them sharper than any yell could’ve been.

And then — too quietly, too carelessly — he said it. “Well, I’m not the one who ended the relationship.”

The air shifted.

Her throat closed up instantly, tears burning behind her eyes before she could even blink.

His face fell the second he saw them. “No, no, hey—” He stepped closer, panic flashing across his face. “I didn’t mean that, Y/N, I swear—don’t cry—”

She shook her head, stepping back quickly, voice trembling. “You know exactly why I did it. And you know it wasn’t my fault.”

“Y/N—”

But she was already turning, her tears spilling hot and fast down her cheeks. She ran inside, the screen door slamming shut behind her, footsteps echoing up the stairs. Her bedroom door clicked a second later.

Outside, Hyuck stood frozen.

He ran a hand through his hair, his heartbeat loud in the quiet. He picked up the half-burned cigarette, staring at the glowing tip before bringing it to his lips again. The smoke curled upward, dissolving into the stars.

“Two years,” he whispered to no one.

He blinked hard, but it didn’t help. The sting behind his eyes stayed.

Some wounds just never learn to fade.

The villa was still quiet when Y/N stirred before dawn. Sleep hadn’t come easy; her mind wouldn’t stop replaying his words, his expression, the way his voice had cracked at the end. She turned over in her bed again and again before finally slipping out, padding barefoot down the hallway to the room Jaemin and Jeno shared.

They were both heavy sleepers. She hesitated at first, then quietly lifted the blanket and crawled in between them, sighing softly at the warmth. Jaemin stirred, blinking blearily. “Y/N…? Is that you?” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

She nodded, whispering, “Sorry to wake you. My room just… feels too big tonight.”

Jaemin didn’t even hesitate. He opened his arms, and she fit herself against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth was grounding, familiar. Her heart slowed. He rubbed her back lazily, half-asleep. “You okay?” he mumbled.

She nodded against him. “Better now that I’m here with you.”

“Good,” he whispered, pressing his chin lightly to the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”

They both drifted off like that, the sound of the sea outside the open window steady and calm.

When the knock came an hour later, it was soft at first, then louder. Jeno groaned, rolling over. Jaemin blinked awake just as the door creaked open and Lina’s bright voice filled the room.

“Guys—oh my god,” she gasped, then pouted dramatically. “You had a sleepover without me? No fair!”

Y/N blinked awake, still groggy, her cheek pressed against Jaemin’s chest. She laughed softly at Lina’s expression. “Come here, then,” she said, opening her arms. Lina didn’t need to be told twice — she crawled onto the bed, nestling beside Y/N, who hugged her close with a sleepy grin.

Across the room, Jeno sat up, yawning, rubbing the back of his neck before getting out of bed. 

And that’s when Hyuck’s voice came from the doorway — low, uncertain. “Morning.”

Lina smiled at him. “Morning! Look at them, they kicked me out of the cuddle party last night,” she teased, motioning toward Y/N and Jaemin’s messy bed.

Hyuck’s eyes flicked to Y/N before he could stop himself — her tousled hair, her sleepy smile, the way she was still half in Jaemin’s arms. Something sharp and uncomfortable twisted in his chest. He forced a small smile and said, “Guess I missed the invite.”

Lina laughed, saying something about breakfast, already tugging Y/N up. Y/N rubbed her eyes, trying not to meet Hyuck’s gaze as she stretched.

But Hyuck’s mind was somewhere else entirely.

Are they dating? Does he like her? Does she like him?

He shook his head hard, trying to dismiss it. It wasn’t his business anymore.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Breakfast was loud and cheerful — plates clinking, laughter echoing through the villa, Lina trying to feed Hyuck a piece of fruit while he pretended to protest. Y/N smiled along, but the pit in her stomach only grew heavier with every laugh.

She couldn’t do this anymore. The secret was pressing against her ribs like it wanted to claw its way out.

When Jaemin caught her gnawing at her nails, he frowned. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah—yeah, I just… need some air. Come for a walk with me?”

Jaemin’s eyes softened immediately. “Sure.”

Jeno, halfway through a mouthful of eggs, looked up. “Wait, can I come?”

Y/N smiled at him. “After you finish eating, okay?”

He grinned, determined, and took a comically huge bite that made Jaemin snort as they headed out.

The sun was high now, glimmering off the lake like a thousand tiny stars. They walked quietly for a while, Y/N kicking at the pebbles, Jaemin watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Alright,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”

Y/N froze. For a long moment, she said nothing. Her throat was tight, words stuck like they were afraid to come out.

“I…” she started, then stopped. “Promise you won’t freak out.”

Jaemin arched a brow. “Y/N.”

She sighed, closing her eyes before blurting it out — the history, the breakup, the way Hyuck used to look at her, and the way it all fell apart. The tears she’d tried to bury in two years’ worth of pretending.

When she finished, Jaemin was silent, just staring at her with wide eyes. “Wait, wait—hold on. So Lina has no idea about your history with him?”

Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head. “None.”

He blinked, running a hand through his hair. “And… I have to ask—do you still have feelings for him?”

Y/N’s reaction was instant. “What? No! Of course not.”

Jaemin didn’t say anything. He just gave her a look — soft, but knowing. Like he could see right through her.

She turned away, blinking fast.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he said quietly, kicking at the dirt. “This is… I mean—you should tell Lina. Just be honest. She’ll understand.”

Y/N shook her head fiercely. “No. I can’t. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Not telling her will hurt her more,” Jaemin said gently but firmly. “She’s your best friend. She’ll find out eventually, and it’ll be worse if it’s not from you.”

Her lip trembled. “Jaem…”

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her before she could say another word. “Hey. It’ll be okay. None of this is your fault, okay? And Lina will know that.”

Y/N let herself sink into his chest, eyes squeezed shut, tears dampening his shirt.

They stayed like that until footsteps approached. Jeno came jogging over, slightly out of breath. “Okay, I’m here—what did I miss?” he said, before noticing Y/N’s red eyes. “Oh. Crying? Who made my girl cry?”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “Relax, hero. We’re fine.”

But Jeno just slung an arm around both of them, pulling them close. “Hey, you don’t need to cry. You’ve got me and this emotional support tree,” he said, patting Jaemin’s chest.

Y/N couldn’t help it—she laughed, muffled and wet, smacking his arm.

“I love you guys so much,” she said softly, hugging them both.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeno teased, squeezing her. “We love you too. Now let’s go before Jaem starts crying too.”

“Hey—”

They walked back toward the villa with the sunlight on their backs, Y/N’s heart still heavy, but a little steadier.

------------------

The morning sun was soft and golden, the kind that made everything look like it belonged in a travel ad. The gang piled into the van after breakfast, buzzing with plans to explore the nearby town.

Jaemin had his camera slung around his neck, his excitement palpable. “Alright, everyone, I’m going full tourist mode today,” he declared. “Y/N, you’re my model. Come on, give me something.”

Y/N laughed, brushing hair from her face before striking a few ridiculous poses — peace signs, fake runway struts, pretending to hold the sun in her hand.

Jaemin laughed so hard he could barely hold the camera steady. “Okay, okay, that’s enough—actually, no, one more. Jeno, get in there!”

“Gladly,” Jeno said, jogging over and wrapping his arms around Y/N’s shoulders from behind. She squealed, laughing as Jaemin snapped a photo. The camera clicked a few times — the two of them mid-laugh, heads thrown back, sunlight haloing their faces.

They looked like a couple. Effortless. Happy.

Donghyuck’s jaw clenched so hard he thought he might crack a tooth.

He was standing off to the side, holding Lina’s phone as she scrolled through filters. “Can you take a few pictures of me?” she asked sweetly, handing it over.

“Yeah,” he murmured, barely glancing up from where Jeno was playfully tickling Y/N. His grip on the phone tightened.

Lina tilted her head. “You okay?”

He blinked, forcing a smile as if nothing had cracked in his chest. “Yeah, just—distracted. Sorry.”

She smiled softly, brushing it off. He held the phone up and snapped a few pictures, making her laugh with a silly grin before they took a selfie together — Lina kissing his cheek, him forcing an easy smile he didn’t feel.

But his eyes still flickered, just for a second, toward the sound of Y/N’s laughter echoing across the square.

They reached a hiking trail that wound up to a lookout point. The group spread out a little — Jaemin taking landscape shots, Jeno pointing out random wildflowers, Lina and Mark walking ahead.

Y/N walked close to Jeno, half to talk and half to avoid tripping on the rocky ground. She hated how clumsy she got in sandals.

“Careful,” Jeno warned, steadying her when she stumbled slightly.

She giggled. “See? You know me too well.”

Hyuck, walking just behind them, shoved his hands into his pockets. Every laugh between them twisted like a knife.

A few minutes later, as they crossed a narrow section of the path, Y/N’s foot slipped against loose gravel. She gasped, her arms flailing—

—and a pair of warm, familiar arms caught her.

“I got you,” a low voice murmured, close to her ear.

She froze. Her heart thudded once, hard.

It was the exact same tone, the same words, the same deep whisper he used to say when he’d hold her close in the dark — back when the world had felt smaller, simpler, safe.

Her breath caught, eyes darting up to meet his. Donghyuck’s hand was firm on her waist, his face only inches away, his gaze unreadable but heavy.

For one dizzying heartbeat, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to.

Then reality slammed back in.

“T-thanks,” she stuttered, pulling away quickly. Her skin still burned where he’d touched her.

Jeno turned around, frowning. “You okay?”

Y/N smiled too quickly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

But she wasn’t.

Because for the first time in two years, it felt like the ground was slipping beneath her feet — and this time, no one could really catch her.

The sky was streaked with gold and rose as the sun dipped behind the lake, turning everything soft and unreal. Dinner was easy, familiar — Italian pizzas spread across the table, laughter echoing through the villa.

Jeno and Jaemin disappeared upstairs after eating, already arguing over which game to play first. Mark and Donghyuck lingered by the dining room window, talking quietly over leftover slices, their voices low and easy.

Outside, the evening air was cool. Y/N and Lina sat on the patio overlooking the lake, each with a glass of wine in hand. The breeze carried the faint scent of oregano and pine, the soft hum of cicadas filling the silence.

“This trip’s been so nice, hasn’t it?” Lina said, smiling into her glass. “Exactly what I needed.”

Y/N nodded, her smile small but genuine. “Yeah. It’s beautiful here.”

There was a pause — long enough for Y/N to start relaxing, to think maybe they could keep this bubble unbroken for a little longer — until Lina tilted her head, eyes glinting playfully.

“What do you think of Donghyuck?” she asked.

Y/N froze. The question hung between them like a blade.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Lina said, laughing softly. “You’ve barely talked to him. You don’t… not like him, do you?”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She shook her head too quickly. “No, no, of course not. I just—” She stopped herself, taking a deep breath. Her hands trembled slightly as she set her glass down.

Now or never.

“Lina,” she said quietly. “I need to tell you something. I… wanted to wait until I could actually process it first, but I can’t keep it from you any longer.”

Lina blinked, lowering her glass. “Okay?”

“I had no idea Donghyuck was your boyfriend,” Y/N started, words tumbling out before she could lose her nerve. “But the truth is… I knew him from before. We met back in college.”

Lina exhaled, shoulders relaxing. “Oh,” she said with a small smile, visibly relieved. “That’s it? Did you guys not recognize each other at the airport until now?” She took another sip of wine, laughing lightly.

Y/N looked down. “No, we did. But…” She swallowed hard. “We weren’t just friends, Lina. We were together back then. Like—together together.”

The smile fell from Lina’s face instantly.

Her glass paused midair. “You and Donghyuck?” she said slowly, voice flat. “My boyfriend? You dated him?”

Y/N nodded, forcing herself to meet her eyes. “Yeah.”

Lina blinked a few times, trying to make sense of it. “Wait—I don’t understand. You dated my current boyfriend back in college? And you didn’t tell me until right now?”

Y/N’s chest ached. “I’ve been in shock since I saw him at the airport,” she said softly. “I just needed time to process my own feelings first. But now that I have, I had to tell you. I didn’t want to keep this from you.”

Lina set her wine glass down a little too hard, the sound sharp against the table. “What feelings did you have to process?” she asked, voice trembling now. “Do you still like him? Was it serious? Or did you just—” she swallowed, “—hook up?”

Y/N’s eyes burned, but her voice stayed steady. “We dated for three years,” she said quietly. “So… yeah. I guess it was pretty serious.”

The lake shimmered behind them, reflecting the last light of day — but the silence between them was heavy, unmoving.

Lina stared straight ahead, eyes wide and unfocused. The only sound was the soft clink of ice melting in her glass.

The question hit harder than Y/N expected.

“Well… why did you break up?”

The wine felt thick in her throat. She swallowed hard, staring at the lake as the memory burned its way up from where she’d buried it.

“We just weren’t the right fit,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t what he wanted. And he made that… very clear toward the end.”

Her voice cracked just slightly on clear, but she forced a smile anyway, twisting the stem of her glass between her fingers. “But it doesn’t matter, Lina. He’s with you now — and you’re the one he wants. I can see he loves you a lot. We broke up two years ago. It’s all ancient history.”

Y/N looked up and smiled — a small, trembling curve of her lips that she prayed looked convincing. “It’s all about you guys now. I’m happy for you. Really. I think you make him happy.”

Lina watched her for a long time, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. She exhaled slowly, setting her glass down.

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “This is… still a bit weird, and I’ll need some time to process it. But as long as it’s in the past and you don’t still have feelings for each other, I guess it’s fine. We can all get along.”

Y/N nodded, relief flickering weakly in her chest.

Lina smiled faintly, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “Thanks for being honest. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

Y/N squeezed back, her throat too tight to speak.

When Lina stood, her chair scraped softly against the patio tiles. “I’m gonna go check on Hyuck,” she said lightly, gathering the empty plates.

Y/N stayed where she was, staring out at the lake — the rippling water reflecting the deep indigo sky — until she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her.

Inside, the house was dim and quiet. Donghyuck sat at the edge of the bed, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, when Lina entered.

She smiled tiredly, setting her wine glass down on the nightstand before sitting beside him. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The air was heavy — soft music from the living room muffled through the walls.

“So…” she said finally, brushing hair behind her ear. “Y/N just told me about your history.”

Donghyuck froze mid-scroll, his thumb hovering over the screen. Slowly, he looked up. “She told you?”

“Yeah,” Lina said, watching his expression carefully. “She mentioned you dated in college. She wanted to come clean. Is it not true?”

He blinked, caught between guilt and disbelief. “No—it’s true. I just… didn’t think she’d say anything. Not this soon.”

Lina tilted her head. “Why? Were you planning to tell me yourself?”

He hesitated. “Eventually, maybe. I didn’t want to ruin the trip. Or make things weird between you two.”

“Well,” she said softly, “it’s already weird.”

Donghyuck sighed, setting his phone aside. “I know.”

There was silence again — the kind that filled every corner of the room.

Then Lina asked the question he’d been dreading. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were uncertain.

“Do you still have any feelings for her?”

Donghyuck looked at her. Really looked. The soft lamplight hit her face, highlighting every emotion she was trying to keep contained — confusion, jealousy, maybe even fear.

He opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

“She’s part of my past,” he said finally, careful, quiet. “That’s all.”

But his voice wasn’t as sure as he wanted it to be.

“Why did you break up? Y/N was a bit vague—she didn’t really give me details,” Lina asked softly, tracing the rim of her wine glass.

Donghyuck’s expression hardened just enough to make her pause. “I was young and stupid,” he said after a beat. “I didn’t really know what I wanted. I mean, I knew, but… I don’t know.” He shrugged, forcing a chuckle. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. That’s the past. No point in rehashing it now. I’m with you, and that’s what matters.”

Lina tilted her head, unconvinced. “That’s the same vague answer she gave me, actually.”

His throat tightened.

“So you both broke up because… you weren’t in love anymore?” she asked carefully.

“No,” he said immediately, maybe a little too fast. “It wasn’t about that. We were just—growing in different directions, I guess. But now I know who I am, without her.”

Lina studied him for a moment, then slowly nodded. “I get it. God knows I’ve broken up with people for the same reason.” Her voice softened. “Look, it’s still weird, but I love both of you so much, and I want you to get along. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me. There’s no bad blood, right?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Right.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed back, briefly, then pulled her into a hug instead—arms tightening around her as if to reassure them both. But as he stared past her shoulder, all he could think about was the look on Y/N’s face when she said we were together back then.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

------------------

The villa was quiet now, everyone finally asleep after a long day. The laughter from dinner, the clinking of glasses and late-night teasing, had faded into a soft, peaceful stillness.

But in one of the rooms, the silence was broken by the sound of a small sneeze. Then another. Then a groan.

“God, this carpet,” Lina muttered, rubbing her nose furiously. “I think I’m allergic or something. It’s making me crazy.”

From beside her, Donghyuck stirred, still half-asleep. “What? Allergic?” he mumbled, voice rough.

“I can’t stop sneezing, Hyuck,” she whined, grabbing a tissue. “I swear it’s the carpet. I feel itchy all over, my throat’s closing up, my nose—” she sniffled miserably.

He sat up, blinking blearily in the dark. “Do you want me to open the window?”

“I tried that,” she said, already getting up. “It’s not helping. I can’t stay here tonight, it’s driving me insane.”

“Where are you going to sleep then?” he asked, confused.

“I’ll crash in Y/N’s room,” she decided, already pulling her blanket and pillow into her arms. “Her room doesn’t have carpet—maybe it’ll help. You stay here, okay?”

“Lina—”

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine. You need your rest. I’ll come back in the morning.”

And just like that, she slipped out the door, the soft patter of her bare feet fading down the hallway.

Donghyuck lay back down, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before sighing. He could still smell her shampoo on the pillow beside him, but without her body next to his, the bed suddenly felt colder.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Y/N had just finished brushing her teeth when Lina appeared in the doorway, sniffling.

“Lina?” Y/N asked, startled.

“Hey, um… sorry to barge in, but can I sleep here tonight? That stupid carpet in our room is making me break out or something. I swear I’m allergic.”

“Oh my god, of course,” Y/N said immediately, stepping aside. “Come in.”

“Thanks, babe.” Lina smiled weakly, tossing her blanket over Y/N’s bed and settling in. “You’re an angel.”

Y/N smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Just get some rest.”

But as Lina snuggled into the sheets and quickly drifted off, Y/N stood there awkwardly, realizing she no longer had anywhere to sleep with her taking up all the space.

Her eyes flicked to the couch in the living room through the open door.

“Perfect,” she whispered dryly to herself.

She grabbed a thin throw blanket and a pillow, padding quietly to the couch. The villa was dim, the only light spilling in from the moon reflecting off the lake. She lay down, curled up under the blanket, and tried to close her eyes.

But her mind wouldn’t quiet. Not after the last few days. Not with him under the same roof again.

She turned on her side, staring out the glass doors toward the faint shimmer of water under moonlight. She tried to focus on her breathing. One, two, three—

The creak of a door broke the silence.

Her heart jumped. She turned, expecting maybe Jaemin sneaking out for a snack—but froze when she saw the silhouette in the hallway.

He stepped into the soft light, and her chest constricted.

Donghyuck.

His hair was mussed, eyes still adjusting to the dimness, and he was holding his phone and a half-crushed cigarette box in one hand. His shirt clung to his frame, the faint scent of smoke still trailing behind him.

When his gaze found her, surprise flickered across his face.

“Y/N?” he said quietly. “Why are you sleeping out here?”

She turned on her back, trying to sound nonchalant. “Lina couldn’t handle the carpet in your room. She said she was allergic, so she’s in mine for the night.”

“Oh.” He blinked, guilt flashing across his features. “Right. She mentioned the dust earlier.”

“So, I’m here,” Y/N added softly, gesturing at the couch.

He frowned. “You should’ve taken my bed. I could’ve slept here.”

She shook her head, pulling the blanket tighter. “It’s fine, Hyuck. Just go to sleep.”

He hesitated. “You sure?”

“I’m fine,” she repeated firmly.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “You always say that,” he murmured.

Her eyes snapped to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looked at her for a long moment, expression unreadable. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and familiar.

He finally sighed and sank down onto the couch across from hers, elbows on his knees. “I couldn’t sleep either,” he admitted after a pause. “Guess we’re both restless.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, voice softer now. “Guess we are.”

The moonlight poured through the window, catching in his hair, outlining the curve of his jaw. She looked away quickly, staring at the lake instead.

They didn’t say another word.

But even from opposite couches, Y/N could feel the electricity between them—the unspoken words, the old ache, the impossible closeness of being this near to someone she once loved.

And somewhere between the rhythm of their quiet breathing and the sound of the lake outside, she realized this trip was going to be harder than she ever imagined.

The villa was quiet, moonlight spilling through the tall windows and painting soft silver across the couch where Y/N lay curled beneath a thin blanket. Her body ached for rest, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing — flashes of old memories, of laughter, of words that had cut too deep.

She almost didn’t hear the door open, the soft creak barely louder than her own shallow breathing.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes fluttered open at the familiar voice. Donghyuck stood near the entryway, hair slightly tousled, a faint scent of smoke still clinging to his clothes. He must’ve gone out for a cigarette.

“Why are you sleeping here?” he asked quietly, stepping closer.

“Lina can’t stay still,” she murmured, keeping her voice small, her back still to him. “She’s allergic to the carpet in your room, so she’s in mine. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so… couch it is. Goodnight, Hyuck.”

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then she heard his sigh, the soft shuffle of his feet against the tile.

“You take my room,” he said after a moment. “I’ll sleep here.”

She turned slightly, enough to see him standing there — the concern written plainly across his face. “It’s fine,” she whispered. “You don’t have to—”

“Y/N.” His tone was firmer now, familiar in a way that made her chest tighten. “I’m not letting you sleep out here. Go.”

She hesitated, eyes searching his, but the sincerity there made her heart twist. “Still stubborn for my comfort,” she murmured under her breath, and the corner of his mouth lifted just a little — the smallest ghost of a smile.

But then, his expression softened into something heavier, almost vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “For what?”

“For making you cry earlier. And for… bringing up the past like that. It wasn’t fair.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “I just— I still can’t stand seeing you cry, you know?”

Her chest ached at the confession.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Our breakup was the hardest thing I ever went through. It took me a long time to put myself back together. I understand now why you did it, but it doesn’t change how much it hurt. And maybe that’s why I said what I did. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me.” His voice cracked slightly at the end. “But that was a cheap shot. You didn’t deserve that. I don’t want to be something you regret.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat burning as she sat up slowly. “I could never regret our relationship, Hyuck,” she said softly. “It hurt me too. Just because I was the one who ended it doesn’t mean it’s what I wanted.”

Something fragile passed between them then — a stillness full of everything they hadn’t said in years. His eyes met hers, full of old pain and something even older: love.

Donghyuck took a deep breath, forcing a small, tired smile. “Go sleep in my room, Y/N. Please. I’ll stay here.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then, quietly, she nodded. “Okay.”

As she walked past him toward the hallway, her shoulder brushed his chest. Warm, familiar. Just like before.

And when she disappeared into his room, Donghyuck stood there for a moment, staring at the couch — the ghost of her touch still lingering on his arm, the words she’d said echoing in his chest like a heartbeat he hadn’t realized he still carried.

---------------------

Morning light spilled through the linen curtains, soft and golden, creeping across the bed where Y/N lay tangled in sheets that weren’t hers. She stirred faintly, the faint scent of cedar and smoke clinging to the pillowcase. Donghyuck’s scent.

The door swung open.

“Y/N?”

Lina stood frozen in the doorway, blinking in confusion at the sight before her. Y/N pushed herself up on her elbows, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Oh— hey,” Y/N said, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry. I crashed here last night. The couch wasn’t exactly comfortable.”

Lina blinked again, the pieces slowly connecting. “Wait… if you’re in here…”

She turned sharply and left before Y/N could respond, heart pounding as she padded down the hall. The living room came into view, and there he was—Donghyuck—lying on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes, still asleep.

Her chest tightened. He’d given Y/N his bed.

Would he have done that for anyone? Or was it… because it was her? Because some part of him still cared?

She stood there for a long moment, her eyes drifting to the phone sitting loosely in his hand, screen dark and unguarded. Something twisted in her stomach—guilt, insecurity, fear.

She hated that she was even thinking it. But she couldn’t stop herself.

Quietly, she crouched beside him, making sure his breathing stayed slow and even. She carefully lifted his phone, holding her breath as she pressed her thumb to the side. It unlocked instantly.

Her pulse quickened.

She went to his messages first—nothing. No saved thread with Y/N, not even a contact under her name. She checked his call history—still nothing. His socials? He didn’t follow her. No DMs, no likes, no trace. It was as if he’d scrubbed her existence completely.

But something about that felt too clean.

She opened his camera roll next, scrolling quickly through hundreds of pictures—mostly landscapes, food, his friends. Nothing suspicious. Until she reached the albums.

There it was.

A locked folder. Marked with a single yellow heart emoji. Over 3,400 photos. 200 videos.

Her stomach dropped.

It had to be her. Y/N. Who else would he hide behind a password?

Her thumb hovered over the album, her chest tight, tears already threatening to form.

Just then, a voice cut through the silence.

“What are you doing?”

She froze.

Donghyuck was sitting up now, voice still rough with sleep, eyes dark and sharp as they locked on the phone in her hand.

“I—” she stammered, guilt flooding her face. “I’m sorry, I just—”

He stood up, snatching the phone from her grasp before she could finish. His expression hardened, the easy gentleness from last night gone in an instant.

“Obviously,” he said quietly, bitterness lacing his tone, “you don’t trust me.”

Lina’s mouth opened, then closed again. “Hyuck, it’s not—”

“Not what?” he snapped, jaw tightening. “You went through my phone while I was asleep, Lina. What did you think you’d find?”

Her voice trembled. “I don’t know. You gave her your bed, and I just— it felt strange, and I—”

“Because I was trying to be decent,” he interrupted, voice rising slightly before softening. “She was sleeping on the couch. You were in her room. What did you want me to do?”

She blinked back tears, whispering, “I just… needed to know if you still loved her.”

For a moment, the air went still. His grip on the phone tightened.

Then, quietly—too quietly—he said, “You shouldn’t have looked.”

He turned away, running a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. The look in his eyes wasn’t anger anymore. It was disappointment. Sadness. A quiet ache that made her chest hurt even more.

Lina stood frozen in place, guilt and panic eating away at her.

Because even though he never confirmed it—he didn’t need to. The silence between them said everything.

The air between them was tense, sharp enough to cut through.

“I had to look,” Lina finally said, her voice trembling but steady enough to make him pause. “Because I know you’re not being honest with me. Maybe not lying outright—but not telling me everything either.”

Donghyuck exhaled, shaking his head. “Lina, you shouldn’t have—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “I should. Because something’s off, Hyuck. You’re different around her. I see the way you look at her. The way you go quiet when she’s in the room, the way your whole body tenses up if someone even mentions her name. You can’t tell me that’s nothing.”

His jaw tightened. “I didn’t say it was nothing.”

“Then what is it?”

He hesitated, eyes dark and conflicted. For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of the waves outside hitting the shore. Then, finally—

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I was in love with her.”

Lina’s throat constricted, but he kept going before she could speak.

“I’ll always care about her. You don’t spend three years with someone and just switch that off. But she gave up on us, Lina. She ended it. And when she did… it hurt like hell. It broke something in me. But it’s over.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and for a second, Lina saw the truth in his eyes—how much it still haunted him.

She swallowed, voice coming out soft. “But… do you want it to be?”

He blinked, staring at her like she’d spoken another language. “What?”

“Do you want it to be over?” she repeated, barely above a whisper.

Donghyuck groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Why are you asking me hypothetical questions? I’m with you, Lina.”

She scoffed, a small bitter laugh escaping. “Well, it doesn’t really feel like it. Because you keep dodging every question I ask. And honestly?”—her voice broke—“it sounds like you’re just settling for me because you can’t have the person you really want.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No? Then answer this—why do you still have a saved album of her? Why keep thousands of photos if you’re so over her?”

He froze, lips parting but no words coming out. She watched the guilt flash in his eyes, the way his breath hitched slightly, and she knew—she was right.

“Because she’s the love of my life,” he said finally, the words escaping like a confession he’d been holding for years.

Lina’s heart sank, her vision blurring.

Donghyuck’s voice cracked, raw and broken. “And I was a young, stupid idiot who thought I could have it all. The career I wanted, the love of my life—I thought if I worked hard enough, I could build us a perfect future. I wanted to give her a ring. A big house. A life she’d never have to worry in again.”

He let out a bitter laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize that while I was building our future, our presentwas falling apart. She was lonely, scared. And I wasn’t there. I kept saying I was doing it for us, but it didn’t matter because she just needed me. And I wasn’t there.”

He swallowed hard, his voice lowering to a whisper. “The night she broke up with me, she was crying. Sobbing. Saying she couldn’t do it anymore, that she didn’t feel seen, that she needed someone who would be there for her. I can’t stand to see her cry, Lina. I thought I was the reason she was unhappy. So I just… let her go.”

He looked down, shaking his head. “Are you happy now? You have the whole damn story.”

Lina was silent, trembling, tears spilling before she could stop them.

“I’m not a villain for trying to move on,” Donghyuck said softly, almost pleading. “But there are some memories even I refuse to delete. I haven’t even looked at that photo album since we broke up. But I won’t delete it. Not because I’m holding on, but because it’s a part of me. A part of who I was. Who I am.”

His voice cracked again, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

The room felt impossibly small—filled with everything that had been said and everything that couldn’t be unsaid.

Lina finally nodded, her heart aching. “I just… I wish you could love me the way you loved her.”

He looked at her, guilt etched across his face. “I do love you, Lina.”

But even as he said it, they both knew it wasn’t the same.

Donghyuck’s heart was pounding in his chest. The silence after his confession was deafening. Lina stood in front of him, eyes glassy but steady, breathing through the kind of pain that came from finally accepting the truth you’d been trying to ignore.

She swallowed hard, voice trembling but clear. “Well… we’re over, Hyuck.”

He blinked, his lips parting, but no sound came out.

“I won’t settle for being someone’s second choice,” she continued, her tone soft but unflinching. “You just called her the love of your life. She’s already in the next room, sleeping in your bed. If you want her, go get her.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she didn’t let him.

“You’re right,” Lina said, tears slipping down her cheeks as she tried to smile through it. “You’re not the villain for trying to move on. But I won’t be the villain either—for getting in between you two. Because that’s what I feel like right now. The obstacle in a story that was already written before I even showed up.”

Her voice broke, but she forced herself to keep going. “And for what it’s worth, she’s not over you either. She’s my best friend, Hyuck. I know her better than anyone. And I’ve never seen her react to anyone the way she reacts to you. You just have to look at her once and she’s completely undone. She can’t even say your name without her voice changing.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You have three years of history that I can’t compete with. And I refuse to compete. I just wish…”—her voice wavered—“I just wish you both could’ve been honest with your feelings a bit sooner. Because standing here right now, I feel so damn stupid for being in the dark all this time.”

Donghyuck’s throat burned, guilt flooding his face. “Lina, I—”

But she stepped back, cutting him off. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. It won’t fix anything.”

She took a deep breath, looking at him one last time. “I can’t stay here with you two, not knowing what’s still between you. I can’t share this space with ghosts you both clearly still live with. So I’m packing my shit and I’m leaving tonight.”

Her voice cracked at the end, but she didn’t let herself falter. “We’re through.”

Donghyuck just stood there, frozen, chest aching, unable to find the right words.

Lina wiped at her tears roughly and gave him a small, tired smile. “I hope you two sincerely have a nice life together.”

She turned before he could stop her, walking to their shared room, the echo of her footsteps painfully loud.

The door clicked shut.

For a moment, Donghyuck couldn’t move. He just stared at the empty hallway, the weight of everything pressing down on him—his guilt, his memories, the faint scent of her perfume still hanging in the air.

And then—silence.

When Lina opened the door to their room, it was empty. Y/N’s suitcase was gone. The bed where she’d slept was perfectly made, the sheets smooth and untouched.

Her stomach dropped.

No note. No sound. No trace.

Just the quiet realization that Y/N, too, was gone.

---------------------

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[jikookncity]

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[jikookncity]

Soldier!Jaehyun x Princess!Reader - Smut (repost)

Captain Jaehyun of one of the most elite task forces is assigned to protect princess Y/n...he also just happens to be her ex-boyfriend. 

WC: 7.9k (full), oral sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, virginity loss in flashback, semi-public sex (empty beach and library)

---------------------

The gilded doors of the war room closed with a soft thud, sealing in the tension that already laced the air. Security briefings weren’t usually so dramatic, but nothing about this moment was normal.

Political tensions were high.

Princess Y/N sat straight-backed in her chair, her royal silk dress cascading down to her ankles, the gold thread catching the overhead light. Her chin was tilted up—poised, powerful, unreadable.

At least, until he walked in.

The moment her gaze landed on the tall man in tactical gear at the back of the room, something in her froze.

Jaehyun.

Broad-shouldered. Stoic. Deadly. Exactly how he looked in her dreams. Exactly how he looked when he disappeared.

Her breath caught, but she forced her lips into a hard, neutral line. She would not give him the satisfaction. She was a princess now. Not the girl he left behind without so much as a goodbye.

But god, why did he still look like that?

He wasn’t shocked to see her. No twitch of the brow, no hitch in his breath. He stood with arms behind his back, boots planted firm, like he had no past. Like he hadn’t once whispered filthy things into her ear in the dark corridors of their boarding school. Like he hadn’t taken her virginity in the back of a library while she clutched his dog tags and moaned his name like a prayer.

The head of the Royal Guard continued speaking, oblivious to the molten storm unfolding in her chest. “Each family member will be assigned one member of the Special Elite to provide round-the-clock protection. These soldiers are the best of the best—trained for surveillance, defense, and close-quarter combat.”

Her father nodded solemnly. “And the soldier assigned to my daughter?”

There was a pause. Then:

“Captain Jeong Jaehyun.”

Every head turned toward him. Every hair on Y/N’s body stood up.

“Your Highness,” he said, stepping forward, giving a slight bow—measured, professional.

Her jaw clenched. “Captain.”

It tasted foreign on her tongue, like venom. His eyes flicked up—dark and unreadable—but that smirk she used to hate was threatening the edge of his lips. Barely there. Just enough for her to notice.

The meeting continued, but her heartbeat was a pounding echo in her ears. She couldn’t focus. Not with him so close. Not with the way her thighs pressed together under the table, her body reacting the way it always had to him—traitorous, desperate, feral.

-----------------

Later that evening, in the private wing of the palace, Y/N stormed into her suite and slammed the door shut. She paced across the velvet carpet in a haze of fury and heat, her fingers twitching to throw something. Anything.

The click of the lock was soft, but it echoed like a gunshot.

Y/N whipped around, already knowing who it was. Only four people had access to her wing. Her parents and loyal handmaid weren't exactly known for making unannounced visits. It had to be her new personal bodyguard, Jeong Jaehyun.

Jaehyun stepped inside slowly, his heavy boots making dull thuds against the palace marble. The door clicked shut behind him.

He looked infuriatingly calm. Still in uniform, black cargo pants and tight tactical shirt molded to his body, jaw sharp enough to cut through the ice between them.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” she said flatly, standing stiffly near the fireplace, her silk nightgown barely brushing her knees. “This is my room.”

“I’m your protection detail,” he replied, voice low. “I go wherever you go.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you’re just going to follow me around now? Pretend we don’t have history?”

He didn’t answer that.

Instead, he stepped forward. Slowly. Measured.

“Don’t,” she snapped, holding up a hand. “Don’t get closer. I swear, Jaehyun—”

“You deserve to hear the truth.”

She laughed bitterly. “Little late for that.”

“I didn’t leave you because I wanted to,” he bit out. “I left because I had to. I enlisted in special forces because it was the only way I’d ever be qualified to protect someone like you. But if they knew we were together—if anyone knew—I would’ve been disqualified. Removed from the list. You would’ve been assigned someone else.”

“And that’s supposed to make it okay?” she hissed, voice rising. “You ghost me for years. You didn’t write, didn’t call, didn’t even say goodbye. You disappeared, Jaehyun. Like I was nothing.”

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he growled. “Every day. Every fucking mission, every scar, every sleepless night—I was doing it for you.”

“I didn’t ask for that!”

“Yeah? Well I didn’t ask to love someone I couldn’t have!”

The air between them snapped. Tense. Furious.

She glared at him, chest heaving. “Anyone could’ve protected me, Jaehyun. It didn’t have to be you. You didn’t have to destroy me.”

“I wanted it to be me!” he shouted.

The words stunned her into silence.

He took another step. She backed up until her spine hit the wall.

And then he was there—towering over her, eyes dark, lips parted like he wanted to say a hundred things but couldn’t choose one. His hands came up to brace against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in without touching her.

Their bodies didn’t touch, but god, it felt like a spark might ignite between them at any second.

“It wasn’t easy,” he said lowly, his voice shaking with fury. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, trying not to shatter.

“But deciding to protect you?” he whispered, face inches from hers now. “Easiest decision of my life.”

Her breath hitched.

“My whole life… it revolves around you, Y/N,” he murmured, almost broken now. “And it always will.”

She could barely breathe.

For a second, neither of them moved. Neither of them blinked.

Everything they hadn’t said—all the hurt, the ache, the years of silence—hung between them like a live wire.

Then she shook her head, blinking away the burn in her eyes.

“You don’t get to do this,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You don’t get to come back and say things like that. You can’t break my heart and then barge into my life like none of it ever happened.”

He stared at her, jaw clenching.

“I’m not barging in,” he said quietly. “I was assigned.”

“Well, tell them to reassign you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m your personal bodyguard now,” he said, his voice calm again. Controlled. Final. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Silence.

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, lips parted in disbelief.

He leaned in just slightly closer, so close she could feel the heat of him, smell the clean scent of his skin and sweat and faint leather from his gear.

“We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other,” he murmured.

Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her skin was on fire.

She hated him. She wanted him.

And they both knew it wasn’t over.

------------

The morning air was crisp, still heavy with dew, but Y/N felt flushed the moment she stepped onto the garden terrace overlooking the courtyard.

She hadn’t meant to look. Had only gone for a walk to clear her head after a sleepless night of tossing between rage and longing.

But there he was.

Jaehyun.

Shirtless. Sweat-slicked. Panting through gritted teeth as he slammed his fists into a padded training dummy with lethal precision.

His muscles rippled with every punch—scars and bruises painting his golden skin like war medals. His black cargo pants hung low on his hips, and veins ran down his forearms like roads she'd once traced with her fingers in the dark.

She swallowed thickly.

He didn’t notice her. Too focused, too deadly. But god, she noticed him.

She turned sharply on her heel, it was time for breakfast, not to fantasize about her ex.

Y/N sat between her mother and father at the long dining table, swirling her spoon in her tea, trying not to let her thoughts drift back to the courtyard—or the sound of Jaehyun’s breathless grunts that were definitely not stuck in her head.

Her mother dabbed her mouth with a napkin delicately. “Y/N, don’t forget, the unity ball is next Saturday. Ambassadors from all three provinces will be attending.”

Y/N nodded. “Right. To remind everyone the country isn’t falling apart.”

Her father frowned. “It’s important, Y/N. Symbolism matters. We need to show strength and unity.”

“And I have to wear a corset for six hours to prove that?” she muttered.

Her mother sighed. “A beautiful dress. And a smile. That’s all we ask.”

She didn’t reply. Her stomach felt full of lead.

-----------

Jaehyun was already waiting in the meeting room when Y/N arrived, now back in uniform, composed and unreadable. She hated that he could flip a switch so easily. Like he hadn’t nearly broken down in her room last night. Like her body didn’t still remember the warmth of his breath against her face.

“We need to go over your security protocol for the ball,” he said without greeting.

She dropped into the chair opposite him and raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to babysit me in a ballroom now?”

He didn’t rise to the bait. “The guest list is over two hundred. Half of them are politicians with agendas. We’ll have plainclothes officers embedded in the crowd, but your movements will be tightly monitored. You don’t leave the ballroom without alerting me. No private conversations with unfamiliar guests. No stepping outside, even to the terrace.”

She scoffed, standing abruptly. “I’m not a prisoner, Jaehyun. I know how to handle myself.”

He stood too. “This isn’t about pride. It’s about safety.”

“I’ve survived worse than champagne and small talk.”

She turned to walk away.

He moved fast—grabbing her hand, firm but careful, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

She froze.

“I need you to listen,” he said, voice low and stern. “Not for protocol. Not for appearances. But for your safety.”

She turned to look at him, their faces close again, tension snapping in the air between them like a live wire.

“And for my sanity.”

His words were tight. Controlled. Almost desperate.

She stared into his eyes.

There was fire there. Not anger—something rawer. Fear. Want. Everything.

Her fingers twitched beneath his grip, but she yanked her hand away.

“You should’ve thought about your sanity before you walked out on me,” she said, quietly, coldly.

Then she turned and walked off down the hall, back straight, chin high.

But Jaehyun just stood there, jaw tight, fists clenched—watching her go.

She could feel his eyes burning into her back the entire way.

---------------

Y/N rolled her eyes as she stood just inside the private training chamber, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her silk blouse and slacks were hardly suited for combat, but Jaehyun had insisted she attend.

“Is this really necessary?” she muttered, as the heavy door shut behind her.

Jaehyun, already standing on the padded mats in a fitted black t-shirt and combat pants, didn’t even glance at her.

“Yes.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You have a dozen guards posted at that ball. You don’t need me to run drills.”

He turned to her then, gaze cool and steady. “If something happens, they’re not going to get to you fast enough. I will. You need to learn how to move with me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You mean let you throw me around like a ragdoll?”

His jaw ticked. “You think this is a joke?”

“I think you like bossing me around a little too much.”

He exhaled sharply, clearly biting his tongue. “Just come here.”

She took slow steps across the mat until she was in front of him. He towered over her—broad shoulders, sweat-slicked neck, veins thick on his forearms.

He nodded at her. “Try to get past me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Pretend you’re escaping. Try to run.”

“I don’t need—”

“You want to prove you can take care of yourself?” he said tightly. “Do it.”

Her pride bristled instantly.

Fine.

She lunged to the left, trying to dart around him—but his arm shot out, catching her waist easily, dragging her backward. She struggled, twisting in his grip, but he barely moved.

“I’m not the enemy,” he murmured near her ear, voice low. “But they will be.”

“Let go,” she snapped, pushing against him.

“You’re dead already,” he said.

She kicked at his shin. “You're insufferable.”

He finally let her go, and she spun around, panting, face flushed.

“Again,” he said.

“Go to hell.”

But she did it again.

And again.

And again.

He caught her every time, until her blouse clung to her back and her breath came short and sharp.

On the last round, she managed to twist free, fingers brushing the door—but Jaehyun grabbed her from behind, arm across her waist, the other gripping her wrist. They crashed to the mat, her back pinned beneath him, breath stolen from her lungs.

His thighs bracketed her hips. His hands were locked tight around hers.

They both froze.

Their chests heaved. Her hair was a mess across the mat, eyes wide and staring up at him.

His face was just above hers—close enough that she could see every freckle, every scar. His eyes flicked down to her lips for just a second.

Then back up.

“Still think I’m just here to boss you around?” he asked, voice gravel.

She glared at him, but her body betrayed her—she didn’t move. Couldn’t.

He felt it.

The tension between them shifted. Thickened. Her legs, tangled with his. His breath ghosted over her cheek.

“You shouldn’t be on top of me,” she whispered.

“I should be anywhere you are,” he said, the words coming out like a confession.

A long pause.

“I hate you,” she whispered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

His lips curled, barely a smile.

“No, you don’t.”

His fingers loosened. But he didn’t move. Neither did she.

Then she turned her head sharply to the side.

“Get off me.”

He did.

But not before she saw it—the look in his eyes.

That whatever was about to happen between them… it wasn’t over.

It was just getting started.

-------------

Y/n remembered her first time with Jaehyun like it was yesterday.

It was snowing the night she gave herself to him.

The library was dimly lit, golden sconces flickering against rows of mahogany bookshelves. Far in the back, hidden behind the historical archives, Jaehyun had pulled her in by the hand — hearts pounding, breaths visible in the cool air seeping through the old glass panes.

She wore a white silk dress that hugged her frame delicately, the lace sleeves barely covering her trembling arms. She looked like a dream. His dream. Always had.

Jaehyun’s school uniform was half-undone, tie loose, white button-down slightly wrinkled from earlier. Around his neck: dog tags. He always wore them, said they were a gift from his father. She’d never asked more than that. But now, the sight of them resting against his chest made her pulse flutter.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he murmured, thumb grazing the inside of her wrist. “If someone sees—”

“I don’t care,” she whispered, stepping closer until her chest brushed his. “I trust you.”

His eyes closed for a moment, as if that hurt and healed him all at once.

“Y/N…” His voice cracked around her name. “I’ve never— I mean, I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” she said, looking up at him through lashes, breath soft. “I want this. I want you.”

His mouth found hers before either of them could speak again — tentative, reverent, lips molding together like muscle memory. It was different tonight. Slower. More desperate in the quiet kind of way, like they had all the time in the world but no idea how to spend it fast enough.

Jaehyun’s hands moved to her back, sliding down to her hips, fingertips trembling as they toyed with the zipper of her dress. She helped him, fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, exposing warm, tan skin beneath. Her palms pressed to his chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering under her touch.

The dog tags swung forward, cold against her skin as she kissed down his neck.

“Fuck,” he muttered when her tongue dragged over his collarbone. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Her dress slipped from her shoulders, the silk puddling at her waist. She stood in delicate white lace — matching panties and bra, soft and untouched.

He stared at her like she was sacred. His gaze dropped to her thighs, then lower, and his hands didn’t move for a long moment.

“You’re so beautiful it’s unfair,” he breathed, voice raw.

Y/N stepped closer, lips brushing his jaw. “Then do something about it.”

That broke him.

He picked her up easily, setting her gently on the small reading table in the corner — the one tucked away under the stained-glass window. The snow outside made the room glow blue and gold.

Jaehyun knelt between her legs, dragging her panties down with shaky hands, pressing reverent kisses to the insides of her thighs.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised against her skin.

But his mouth said otherwise.

He licked a stripe up her center, tongue teasing her clit before sucking it into his mouth, groaning softly as her fingers fisted his hair.

“Oh, fuck—Jae…”

She hadn’t expected this — his mouth so hungry, so focused, licking her open like she was his last meal. Her hips rocked against his face, his grip firm around her thighs to keep her steady.

When she came — with a shudder, his name whispered in a cracked voice — he pressed kisses up her stomach, her chest, her throat. Until he was over her, lips flushed, eyes wild.

“Are you okay?” he asked, even now, even like this.

She nodded, breathless, reaching for his belt.

“I want all of you.”

He stripped the rest of the way quickly, and when he finally slid into her — slow, thick, filling her inch by inch — she gasped and clung to him, body trembling.

“Shit,” he groaned into her neck. “You feel—god, baby, you feel so good.”

She wrapped her legs around him, hips lifting, meeting his every thrust.

It hurt — for a second. And then it didn’t.

Then it was just Jaehyun.

His hands in hers.

His dog tags clinking softly with each roll of his hips.

His breath stuttering as he kissed her jaw, her chest, her lips between broken moans of her name.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered, fucking her just a little harder now, sweat beading on his brow.

“I’m yours,” she gasped, eyes wet. “I’ve always been yours.”

He kissed her fiercely then, hips grinding into hers deep and slow, until she clenched around him with a loud cry, dragging him over the edge with her.

“Y/N—fuck, I’m coming—shit, I love you—”

And then the silence.

Just their bodies, tangled. Her fingers tracing the chain at his neck. His lips pressed to her forehead, murmuring her name like a prayer.

-----------------

The palace buzzed with preparations. Staff hurried with arrangements, guards tested their comms, and Jaehyun stood near the ballroom entrance, stoic and unreadable in his full black tactical suit, earpiece in place, hands behind his back.

Until she walked in.

He turned his head—casual at first, then—

He froze.

Completely.

His jaw flexed.

His eyes darkened.

The white dress was unmistakable. He hadn’t seen it in years, but the second it appeared, his mind short-circuited. The soft lace, the way it curved over her hips, the memory of it bunched around her waist while he was inside her, whispering I love you into her neck—

Y/N smiled.

Not sweetly.

Not innocently.

She saw his reaction — the way his breath hitched, the flicker of something deep and carnal behind his eyes — and she smirked.

“Something wrong, Captain?” she asked, voice saccharine as she approached, her heels tapping lightly over the polished floor.

His throat bobbed. “That dress.”

She tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “This old thing? I figured… why not? It’s just been sitting in my closet.”

Jaehyun stared at her, speechless for a second. Completely blindsided.

Good. For once, it was him caught off guard.

Y/N leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, “You’re not the only one who remembers everything.”

Then she pulled back, turned, and walked toward the ballroom — hips swaying, white silk catching the light, leaving him wrecked in her wake.

His hands clenched at his sides.

And for the first time in years… he didn’t feel in control.

The chandeliers sparkled with a thousand points of light, casting a golden glow over velvet gowns and polished shoes. Government officials mingled with aristocrats, string music weaving through champagne laughter and whispered politics.

Y/N looked every bit the royal vision — white dress hugging her waist, a soft slit up one side revealing a hint of her thigh, hair pinned elegantly but with that deliberate softness Jaehyun remembered. The way she used to wear it when it was just him she wanted to impress.

He watched from a respectful distance — straight-backed in his suit, ear-piece in place — his face unreadable to everyone except her.

So of course she decided to test him.

A young official approached, handsome and eager. He introduced himself with a bow, offering his hand with a crooked smile and charming tilt of his head. Y/N smiled politely, allowing herself to be led to the center of the ballroom.

Jaehyun’s eyes followed, but the smirk on his lips was calm. Relaxed. Amused.

He wasn’t jealous.

And that pissed her off.

The official spun her around, chatting lightly. “You look stunning tonight, Your Highness. Has anyone told you that yet?”

“Just you,” she replied with a coy smile, eyeing Jaehyun over the man’s shoulder. Still nothing.

“So, tell me,” the man said as he guided her gently across the floor, “has a woman like you ever been in love? Someone serious?”

Y/N’s eyes flicked once more to Jaehyun, standing at the edge of the room like a statue.

She smiled brightly. “Nope. Not at all. You know how men are.”

The second the words left her mouth, Jaehyun’s expression shifted. Slightly. Just enough for her to see it.

She almost grinned.

The moment y/n excused herself to use the restroom, Jaehyun grabbed her hand.

He tugged her down the dim hallway with a quiet urgency, away from the guests and music, until they were behind the tall wooden shelves lined with royal archives.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed.

Y/N blinked at him innocently. “What was what?”

His nostrils flared. “That little show. ‘Nope, never been in love’? Really?”

She gave him a slow smile. “Why? Were you hoping I’d say your name?”

Before he could respond, footsteps echoed — close.

Too close.

Jaehyun cursed under his breath, spun her around, and pushed her against the wall. One hand slid over her mouth, the other gripped both her wrists, pinning them tightly to her chest.

The shelf beside them blocked the view perfectly. Hidden in shadow, pressed so tightly together she could feel every muscle of him.

Her breath hitched.

She tried to twist away, heart pounding, but he pressed her harder to the wall, eyes narrowing. “Don’t move.”

Her chest heaved against his. His thigh was slotted between hers. The heat from his skin, the scent of his cologne, the memories of how his body felt over hers — inside her — it all came flooding back too fast.

She stopped struggling.

She stared at him.

Their faces were so close, if he dropped his hand, their lips would touch. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth, then back to his eyes. Her breaths were deep now. Shaky.

Jaehyun’s gaze darkened.

Then the footsteps passed.

Still, he didn’t move.

He stared at her like he was drinking her in.

Then finally, his hand slowly slid away from her mouth.

“This reminds me,” he said quietly, voice low and dangerous, “of the library.”

Y/N’s pulse spiked.

She pushed him back hard enough to create space between them, her chest still rising and falling as she fixed her expression.

He didn’t follow immediately — just watched, his own jaw clenched, hands fisting like he needed to keep them to himself.

She turned and walked back into the ballroom.

And Jaehyun followed. Close behind.

Like a shadow.

Like a flame about to reignite.

-----------------

The private royal beach was a stretch of sand untouched, protected on all sides by natural cliffs and patrolling guards far out of earshot. The water shimmered under a golden sun, small waves crashing in intervals against the jagged rock wall near the edge.

Y/N stood at the shore, eyes scanning the crashing waves. Her black bikini clung to her skin like it had been painted on — the sharp contrast against her soft skin making Jaehyun grit his teeth where he stood, arms crossed near a shaded tree line.

She didn’t say anything when she walked toward the rocks.

Didn’t look at him once.

She simply sauntered into the water, dipping below the surface with a low sigh of contentment.

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes.

The waves around the rocks rolled stronger now, lapping aggressively against the stone. Still, Y/N stayed there, hands trailing the surface, eyes closed as if she was the only person in the world.

“Princess,” Jaehyun called out, voice firm.

She ignored him.

“Y/N,” he tried again, more stern this time. “Water’s getting rough. Come out.”

“I’m fine!” she called back, a slight bite in her tone. “You’re not my babysitter.”

His jaw clenched. “Y/N, don’t be reckless.”

“I’m not.”

A particularly sharp wave shoved her a step back, and Jaehyun snapped.

He stormed into the water fully clothed — boots, shirt, cargo pants and all. His strides were fast, cutting through the surf like a predator. Water soaked his thighs, then his waist, then his chest, his shirt going nearly transparent and clinging to every defined muscle.

Y/N gasped as he approached, backing up toward the rocks instinctively.

“What the hell are you doing?” she said, eyes wide.

Jaehyun didn’t answer at first.

He stopped just in front of her, water swirling around their waists. His hair was wet, dripping across his sharp cheekbones, and his eyes… dark. Furious.

He leaned in close.

Too close.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” he whispered harshly, his voice low and threatening.

Her heart thudded violently in her chest. “Why should I ever listen to you?”

His gaze dropped — slowly, shamelessly — dragging down her dripping neckline, the curve of her breasts peeking above her bikini, the water beading on her flushed skin. And then it snapped right back to her eyes, daring her.

The tension between them crackled. Jae leaned down just a little bit.

Their lips brushed. Once. Light. Too soft.

Then again — firmer.

Her breath caught, and something in her snapped.

Y/N fisted his collar and yanked him down, slamming her mouth onto his in a rough, filthy kiss that left no space between their bodies.

-----------

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[jikookncity]

Donghyuck x Reader - Academic Rivals (SMUT) - repost

Haechan and Y/n are academic rivals but is the tension perhaps something more?

Y/N always arrived five minutes early to class, color-coded notes neatly stacked, highlighters arranged by shade. She paid attention. She cared.

Haechan? Haechan strolled in fifteen minutes late, sipping iced coffee with extra vanilla and no apology, sunglasses still on, hair a mess like he rolled out of someone’s bed. He wore smugness like cologne.

What made it worse?

He was smarter than her.

No matter how hard she studied, no matter how deep she annotated every lecture, he still walked out with the highest grade in the class. Barely tried, barely blinked, and it drove her insane.

“You know,” she said one afternoon, slamming her textbook shut as he leaned against her table in the library, “you could actually study once in a while. Maybe put that brain of yours to use.”

He grinned lazily. “I do. Just not in ways you approve of, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You act like one.”

She stood, chest to chest with him, eyes blazing. “You’re a cocky, lazy, entitled—”

“Hot,” he supplied.

She bristled. “—bastard.”

He leaned in, lips inches from hers. “You forgot irresistible.”

She shoved past him with a huff, missing the way his eyes dropped to her hips as she stormed off.

Unfortunately being the two brightest in the class meant spending lots of time together, as the professors often thought they'd get along great on their projects.

“I’m sorry, was that your answer?” Haechan said with mock surprise, spinning in his chair to face Y/N in their shared study group. “I just assumed no one else would get that wrong.”

Y/N didn’t even flinch. She calmly lifted her highlighter, capped it, and set it down with exaggerated care before looking up at him.

“I’d rather get it wrong than cruise through life on raw talent and unchecked narcissism.”

“Ouch,” he grinned, shameless and lazy. “Tell me how you really feel, princess.”

“I hate you,” she snapped, voice tight with annoyance — and something else. Something electric.

“You sure?” he murmured, tilting his head, eyes flicking down to her lips. “Because you look at me like you want to ride me until I shut up.”

Her highlighter slipped out of her hand.

The rest of the group barely noticed, too busy whispering about the next quiz. Y/N glared daggers at him, cheeks warming. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re obsessed with me,” he replied smoothly, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand, like she was his personal entertainment. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you always trying to outscore me. It’s cute.”

She turned away, jaw tight. “It’s called ambition. Not everything’s about you.”

Haechan gave her a dazzling grin. "Sure it is princess. Sure it is."

A few days later, it happened again — she beat everyone in the econ quiz. Everyone except Haechan, who sauntered into class fifteen minutes late with a hickey on his neck.

Still got a perfect score.

She wanted to scream.

“I swear, one day your dick is gonna fall off from overuse,” she muttered as he slid into the seat next to her.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmured back, voice low. “Still talking about it.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched. “You’re a goddamn menace.”

“Correction: I’m your competition. And your type.”

“Get over yourself.”

“Never,” he said with a wink. “Not until you’re underneath me begging me to do exactly what you pretend you don’t want.”

She kicked his shin under the desk.

He only smiled wider.

"Careful princess. Might need to bring you down from your high horse."

And now — it was all catching up with her.

Every smirk, every whispered insult, every filthy threat Haechan had ever purred in her ear was clanging in her head like a warning bell.

Y/n was at one of the frats college party's to unwind a bit after her countless hours of studying.

She was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, sucking on a red lollipop and pretending not to care. But her skin was hot. Her thighs were tense. Her nerves were a live wire.

And she felt him before she saw him — that heat, that presence.

“You love sucking on things, don’t you?” he said from behind her, voice like silk, amusement dripping from every syllable.

She didn’t flinch this time. “It keeps my mouth busy so I don’t scream at you.”

His breath ghosted against her neck as he stepped closer. “Baby, if you’re gonna scream, I’d prefer it be because I’m buried in you.”

She turned slowly, the lollipop still in her mouth, meeting his eyes.

And he grinned — cocky, confident, dangerous.

“You came all dressed up just for me, didn’t you?” he said, eyeing her legs. “Tight skirt, little heels, sucking on candy like you’re begging for my attention.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t have to,” he said. “You’ve been doing it for me. Every fight, every glare, every time you bite your lip after calling me a dick — you’re desperate for me to ruin you.”

She froze. Her mouth opened — but he was already reaching for the lollipop, fingers brushing her lips.

“Let me,” he whispered, and pulled it from her mouth.

Then he popped it into his own, his lips closing around it with a sinful hum, never breaking eye contact.

“You wanna know what I think about every time we argue?” he said, voice dark and soft, body now inches from hers. “You. On your knees. My belt around your wrists. My cock in your mouth while you glare up at me like you still have some kind of power.”

She was shaking now — with rage, with arousal, with want.

And he leaned in, nose brushing hers.

“Go ahead, Y/N. Fight me. I dare you.”

Her hand moved before she even thought.

CRACK.

The slap echoed through the kitchen, silencing everything for one impossible second.

Haechan’s head snapped to the side. His cheek turned red. Y/N stood there, chest heaving, hand still raised, heart thundering like she’d just jumped off a cliff.

She expected him to yell. Laugh. Walk away.

But he did none of that.

Instead, Haechan turned back to her with a slow, stunned smile — his bottom lip split just a little from the force of her palm. His eyes glinted, half-wild with something unhinged and hungry.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice a little breathless. “You really are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

And then he lunged.

His mouth crashed into hers, tongue shoving past her lips, filthy and unrelenting. He kissed like he fought — with heat and fury and zero restraint. Y/N barely had time to breathe, let alone think, before his hands were yanking her skirt up, pushing her back against the counter, spreading her thighs just enough to grind the heel of his palm against the soaked fabric of her panties.

“You feel that?” he growled into her mouth, teeth grazing her lip. “All this fighting — you’re dripping for me, sweetheart.”

She gasped, hips jerking as he pressed harder, rubbing tight, teasing circles over her clothed clit. The friction was maddening — just enough to make her whimper, not enough to push her over the edge.

He reached for the lollipop — his lollipop now — and shoved it between her lips, holding her jaw tight.

“Open up. Be a good girl.”

And when she did — whether from shock, want, or pure defiance — he shoved it deeper, making her gag around it. She choked, spit pooling at the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah,” he grunted, eyes dark with lust, “that’s how I wanna see you. Mouth stuffed, eyes wide, all that attitude shut the fuck down.”

Then he pulled it out, tossed it across the room, and grabbed her face in both hands to kiss her again — rough, messy, teeth and tongue and filth. His fingers never stopped moving under her skirt, pressing, stroking, dragging her higher and higher until her knees nearly buckled.

She clawed at his shirt, dragging him closer, pulling his curls, cursing into his mouth. It wasn’t tender. It wasn’t sweet.

It was war.

And when she finally came — hot and sudden, her thighs trembling around his hand — he swallowed her moan like he’d been starving for it.

They stood there after, both panting, lips bruised, her skirt still hiked up and his hand slick between her legs. His fingers moved to his mouth — one by one — sucking her release from his skin like he couldn’t bear to waste a drop.

Y/N dragged in a breath. Her voice shook as she said, “This… this doesn’t mean anything.”

Haechan just gave her that same lazy, infuriating smirk, licking the last drop from his thumb.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he said. “Whatever helps you sleep tonight.”

And then he turned and walked out, leaving her flushed, ruined, and absolutely furious.

Because she knew he was right.

A few days later — on campus

It was supposed to be a chill afternoon. The sun was out, students were sprawled across the quad, midterm results had just been posted. But of course, Y/N’s peace didn’t last more than five minutes before he showed up.

“Top of the class again,” Haechan said behind her, holding an iced coffee like he hadn’t just steamrolled her GPA again. “I’m starting to feel bad for you, babe. You’re trying so hard.”

She turned slowly, eyes narrow, temper already bubbling. “Maybe if you spent less time sleeping around and more time studying, I wouldn’t have to try so hard.”

He sipped his drink. “Sweetheart, I finished the exam thirty minutes early and still scored higher than you. I think your anger’s misdirected. Maybe what you really need is—”

“Your dick isn’t even big enough to be this cocky.”

Silence.

Haechan blinked once, the smirk slipping off his face for the first time in weeks.

Then something dangerous flickered in his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, stepping in close, voice low. “You sure you wanna find out?”

She didn’t back down. “I’ve seen your type. All mouth, no—”

Before she could finish, his hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked. Not hard, not painful — but firm, and fast. No one saw. Everyone else was distracted.

He dragged her behind the sports field, down the concrete path, and shoved her under the bleachers. The metal creaked overhead, voices echoing faintly in the distance. It was semi-secluded, enough to hide. Enough to sin.

“What the hell—”

“You wanna talk shit?” Haechan hissed, his voice hot against her ear. “Let’s test your theory, princess.”

Before she could respond, he’d already unzipped his jeans.

She froze.

Because holy shit, he wasn’t bluffing. He was big. Thick, veiny, heavy in his hand, already hard and flushed at the tip.

Her throat went dry.

“What?” he said, grinning like the devil. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you finally realizing how wrong you were?”

She hated herself for how fast she dropped to her knees.

The moment her lips brushed his tip, Haechan let out a groan — deep and filthy. She wrapped her mouth around him, sinking down until the weight of him pressed at the back of her throat, gagging almost instantly.

“Fuck,” he gasped, one hand gripping the back of her head, the other holding his shirt up as he watched with hazy eyes. “That’s it. Look at you. So cocky until you’ve got a real one down your throat.”

She pulled back, spit and drool already dripping down her chin, catching her breath before taking him deeper. Sloppier. Hungrier. Her hands clutched his thighs for balance, eyes watering as she gagged around him again.

“Messy little mouth,” he hissed, hips rocking slowly. “Drool everywhere. Just like I imagined. You like this, huh? Getting used like a toy.”

She whimpered around him, the vibration making him curse. Her spit slicked everything — chin, lips, fingers — and every time he hit the back of her throat, she choked, spit bubbling up and dripping onto her shirt.

He looked down at her like he was worshipping her — or maybe breaking her.

“Say it,” he groaned, guiding her rhythm. “Say I’ve got the biggest cock you’ve ever choked on.”

She pulled back with a wet gasp, strings of spit connecting her lips to him.

“You talk too much,” she panted. “Let me work.”

He laughed. Dark and wrecked.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be like this. All bark in public, all mouth in private.”

She took him again, deeper than before, until he twitched and gasped and grabbed her tighter, bucking slightly into her mouth.

When he came, it was with a shudder and a hiss of her name, and she swallowed it all — messy and unashamed, licking her lips as she sat back on her heels, panting.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, adjusted her skirt, and gave him a look like she hadn't just gagged on his cock under the bleachers like her life depended on it.

Totally unfazed. Maddeningly nonchalant.

“Well,” Y/N said, rolling her shoulders back with a little smirk. “I’ve had worse.”

Haechan froze mid-zip.

His jaw ticked. His fingers twitched.

And then, as she turned and walked off like she hadn’t just wrecked him in every possible way, he let out a low, stunned breath. His head thunked back against the metal beam behind him, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

“…I’m gonna marry that woman,” he muttered to himself, still a little dazed, still trying to catch his breath.

Not that he’d tell her that.

Yet.

Ever since she said it — that one devastating line — “I’ve had worse” — Haechan hadn’t been the same.

It haunted him. Mocked him. Played on a loop in his brain every time he closed his eyes. She said it like she wasn’t impressed, like she hadn’t just drooled all over herself for him under the bleachers.

Like she could take it or leave it.

And now? She was walking around campus with that casual little sway in her hips, all skirts and smug glances, like she owned him.

Because maybe, just maybe… she did.

“Still staring, Donghyuck?” she said one day, catching him mid-glare across the student café. “You know it’s creepy if you don’t blink.”

He gritted his teeth. “You’ve got a lot of mouth for someone who choked so pretty for me.”

She just smiled sweetly and sipped her iced coffee. “It’s not that hard to fake it.”

Boom.

He nearly short-circuited.

From that moment on, Haechan was obsessed. He flirted harder, leaned in closer, let his hands linger too long on her waist when they passed each other in the hallway. He sat next to her in every class, sent texts at 2 a.m., tried every trick in the book.

Nothing worked.

Every time he tried to fluster her, she just raised an eyebrow and dismissed him like he was some eager freshman who didn’t know how to kiss.

He was spiraling. Down. Bad.

And then came today.

They were in the music department hallway, empty between classes, the late afternoon sun slanting through the windows in sharp golden beams. She made some snide comment about how he only got good grades because professors liked his “face and flexible morals.”

That was the last straw.

Haechan’s laugh came out sharp, unhinged. He grinned like he’d finally snapped.

“You think you’re cute, huh?” he said, stalking toward her slowly, eyes blazing.

Y/N leaned against the wall, utterly unfazed. “No. I know I am.”

And that’s when he grabbed her — not roughly, but urgently — dragging her down the corridor into an empty hallway tucked between practice rooms. Before she could say another word, he was on her.

His tongue shoved into her mouth in a kiss so dirty, so possessive, it made her knees buckle. He kissed like he was trying to stake a claim, like he could tongue that smugness out of her. She kissed him back with the same fire — biting, teasing, smug as hell.

“I hate you,” she whispered against his lips.

“Yeah?” he panted. “You’re about to hate me harder.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

Right there, in the middle of the hallway, without warning.

He shoved her skirt up around her hips, yanked her panties down just enough, and buried his face between her thighs like a man starved. No hesitation. No teasing. Just messy, determined, tongue-deep devotion.

She gasped, one hand flying to grip the windowsill behind her for balance.

He groaned against her, lapping and sucking like she held the answer to all his problems between her legs.

“Still think I’m forgettable?” he muttered between licks, dragging his tongue up her slit, lips wrapping around her clit with a filthy pop. “Still think you’ve had better?”

Y/N was panting now, hips grinding against his mouth as his tongue fucked into her. Her legs trembled, her hand found his hair, yanking just enough to make him groan — the vibrations shooting straight through her.

“Say it again,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Say I’m not the best you’ve ever had. Say it with my tongue inside you.”

She didn’t.

Couldn’t.

She was already falling apart.

And when she came, shuddering against his mouth, he moaned like it was him getting off — like he needed to taste every second of it.

When he finally stood, lips shiny, hair wild, he leaned in close, mouth brushing her ear.

“Next time you say some shit like that,” he whispered, “I’ll have you bent over the piano bench.”

Y/N caught her breath, fixed her skirt, and met his wild eyes with a wicked little smile.

“Better be tuned, then.”

The party was in full swing. Music thumped from inside the house, bodies moved through the yard in waves, and laughter carried into the warm night air. Y/N was doing just fine — until she saw her.

Some girl. Tall. Perfect hair. A little too handsy. She was laughing at every joke Haechan made and pressing her palm to his chest like he was hers to touch.

And worst of all?

Haechan was letting her.

Y/N watched from across the yard, drink in hand, blood boiling. He knew she was watching. He hadto know.

She shouldn’t have cared. She didn’t care.

Except she did.

Too much.

So she marched straight over.

The girl glanced at her, confused, just as Y/N plastered on her sweetest, fakest smile and said, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear:

“He’s not even good in bed”

Haechan saw red.

He’d played along, smiled through it. But inside?

Unhinged.

And now?

Now he had her in his lap, in the backseat of his car, her wrists bound behind her with his belt, her skirt bunched up around her waist, his cock buried to the hilt inside her soaked, twitching pussy — and she still hadn’t moved.

Just sat there. Breathing hard. Clenching around him like her body was already coming apart from the stretch alone.

“Yeah,” Haechan grunted, his hands tight on her hips. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

She glared at him, breath shuddering.

“Look at you,” he whispered, cocky smirk spreading as he leaned in, licking a stripe up her neck. “Still trying to act like you don’t want this… when you’re gripping me like a fucking vice. You scared to move, baby?”

Y/N didn’t answer. Her silence only made him more unbearable.

“Oh, I get it,” he chuckled. “You wanna savor it. Wanna sit on this dick like it’s yours. Just cockwarming me like a needy little slut—so full of attitude out there, and now you can’t even move.”

She rocked her hips slightly and choked on a moan.

He groaned, hard, head tilting back with a breathless laugh.

“Fuck—there it is. You feel that? How you just clenched up again?” His voice dropped, lips brushing her cheek. “You keep gripping me like you never wanna let me go, baby. You’re obsessed. You lovethis cock.”

Her eyes fluttered, body twitching around him.

He licked a stripe across her lips and spit right into her mouth — a filthy, slow drool.

And she swallowed.

“Ohhh my God,” he breathed, almost laughing from how fucking turned on he was. “You’re disgusting for me. My filthy little bitch.”

Y/N snapped.

She started riding him — messy, desperate, rough. Her wrists still tied, her body grinding against his with sharp, snapping thrusts. He fucked up into her with equal hunger, his cock thick and deep, dragging along every fluttering nerve inside her.

And he wouldn’t stop talking.

“This pussy’s mine, you know that?” he growled, lips pressed to her jaw. “The way you fucking squeeze me—shit—it’s like your body’s begging me to stay.”

He ran his tongue down her chest, licking at the sheen of sweat between her tits before sucking hard on the skin above her bra, teeth dragging over her nipple through the fabric.

Her thighs trembled. Her whole body jerked with each thrust.

“You’re gonna cum all over me,” he muttered, biting her shoulder. “Gonna cream this dick, leave me soaked like you always fucking do. Because that’s what sluts like you do, huh? Show off out there and then come crawling back just to get ruined in the dark.”

She did. She came hard, clenching, sobbing, shuddering around him — and he fucked her through it, biting her throat, groaning into her skin like she was the best thing that ever happened to him.

By the end, her body was limp, legs still twitching around his waist, chest heaving.

She was covered in his spit and teeth marks and bruises.

He licked a final stripe across her collarbone and leaned back in his seat, lazily zipping up his pants as she still sat in his lap, catching her breath.

His hair was a mess. His smile was devastatingly smug.

“Not good in bed, doll?” he panted, eyes gleaming. “Are you sure?”

Y/N grabbed his face and kissed him hard, tongue and teeth and heat, just to shut him the fuck up.

“Stop talking,” she whispered against his mouth.

And for once… Haechan listened.

But he was smiling the whole time.

The next morning on campus, Y/N strolled into the lecture hall like nothing happened. Like she hadn’tspent the night before riding Haechan’s cock until she couldn’t feel her legs. Like she wasn’t wearing foundation two shades darker just to cover up the bruises blooming across her collarbone.

She was good at pretending.

Too good.

She sat next to her friend, pulled out her laptop, sipped her iced coffee like she didn’t feel his fingers around her throat every time she blinked.

But then he walked in.

And her whole body froze.

Haechan was wearing gray sweats — of course he fucking was — and a smug little smirk that said he knew exactly what he’d done to her. His eyes met hers across the room. Dark. Lethal. Knowing.

He slid into the seat behind her, leaned forward, mouth just near her ear.

“You missed a spot,” he murmured low, and her skin went cold. “Still got my bite marks under your jaw.”

She didn’t even flinch.

Just sipped her drink. “I’ve had worse.”

His laugh was low, breathless, fucking insane.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But your cunt’s still sore from last night, huh? I can feel it.”

She kicked his shin.

He groaned—loudly—and muttered, “God, I’m gonna marry you.”

“Hey,” he said suddenly.

Y/N turned to him. “Yeah?”

He glanced over, his voice lower now. No teasing. “Be my girlfriend.”

She blinked. Heart stuttering. “…What?”

He sat up a little straighter, licking his lips, and even though his usual cocky grin was on standby, his eyes were serious. There was that same chaotic, obsessive glint — the one she saw every time he wrecked her — but this time it felt different. Calmer. Focused.

“Be mine,” he said, voice a tad bit softer now. “Like, really. I don’t want anyone else touching you. Looking at you. I want you.”

A beat of silence.

Then Y/N smiled — all slow and smug and so very her.

“What took you so long?” she said, eyes glittering. “Are you shy or something?”

Haechan barked a laugh. A real, slightly unhinged one, like he couldn’t believe the nerve of her — like he’d just been punched in the chest and loved it.

Then he lunged forward, hands cupping her jaw, and smashed his mouth against hers.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was them — messy, eager, deep.

He kissed her like she already belonged to him. Like she always had.

When he finally pulled back, breathless and glowing, he muttered against her lips:

“I’m so fucked.”

Y/N grinned. “You really are.”

------------------

Wanna read PART 2 (more fluff + smut)? Subscribe to my NCT Patreon here OR read PART 2 HERE!

[jikookncity]

Donghyuck x Reader - Forgotten Memories

Hyuck gets into a skiing accident and forgets about a year of his life, including his breakup with y/n. When he wakes up, everyone pretends they're still together for his sake but things aren't as easy as they seem

fluff, smut (unprotected sex, shower sex), angst, happy ending, exes to lovers 

WC: 10.6k 

Eight months ago, Donghyuck had ended a four–year relationship with Y/N.

He hadn’t stopped loving her — that was the problem. His career had grown louder, faster, more demanding, and every time he looked at her, he saw someone shrinking to fit around his schedule. Late nights, missed anniversaries, phone calls cut short. He told himself breaking up was the kinder choice.

Then, one skiing accident erased the past year of his life.

When Donghyuck woke up in a hospital bed with a pounding head and unfamiliar machines beeping around him, the first thing he asked was a name.

“Where’s Y/N?”

His mother froze. His father looked up sharply from the chair beside the bed.

“Hyuck,” his mother said carefully, forcing a smile, “you’ve been in an accident. You need to rest.”

Donghyuck frowned. “I am resting. But where is she? She should be here by now.”

His father stood. “We’ll be right back,” he said quickly, already guiding the doctor out of the room.

The hallway felt too quiet.

“He remembers up to a year ago,” the doctor said after reviewing the chart. “Everything before the accident is intact. Anything after is… gone.”

His mother pressed a hand to her mouth. “That means he thinks—”

“That he and Y/N are still together,” his father finished gently.

His father ran a hand through his hair. “We can’t tell him. Not right now.”

The doctor hesitated. “Emotional shock can seriously interfere with recovery, especially with head trauma.”

His mother nodded desperately. “They were together for four years. He adored her. If we tell him they broke up—because of him—”

“He’ll spiral,” his father said quietly.

The doctor sighed. “If you’re asking my opinion… it might be best to maintain his perceived reality for now. Until his memory stabilizes.”

A long silence followed.

Finally, his mother said, “We need to call her.”

Y/N almost dropped her phone when she saw Donghyuck’s mother’s name flash on the screen.

“Hello?”

There was a sharp inhale on the other end. “Y/N… there’s been an accident.”

That was all it took.

She arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes later, hair still damp from the shower she’d abandoned, coat half-zipped, breath uneven. Donghyuck’s parents met her in the hallway before she could even ask where he was.

“He’s awake,” his father said quickly. “But—please, listen to us first.”

They sat her down in a quiet consultation room. The words came out haltingly at first, then all at once.

“He lost a year of memories.” “He thinks you’re still together.” “He keeps asking for you.”

Y/N stared at them, numb. “What?”

His mother’s eyes filled with tears. “He doesn’t remember breaking up with you. To him, everything is perfect.”

“That’s… insane,” Y/N said, standing abruptly. “You can’t expect me to—”

“We’re not asking forever,” his father interrupted, voice breaking. “Just for now. Until he heals. The doctor says emotional distress could slow his recovery.”

His mother reached for Y/N’s hands, clutching them tightly. “Please. He woke up scared, and all he wants is you.”

Y/N pulled her hands back, pacing the room. “He broke up with me,” she said quietly. “He decided we were better off apart.”

“And we know how much that hurt you,” his mother whispered. “But right now… he’s our son. And he’s fragile.”

Silence stretched between them.

Y/N stopped pacing. She thought of Donghyuck’s laugh, his crooked smile, the way he used to reach for her in his sleep. She thought of the phone calls that stopped coming. The goodbye she never got to argue against.

And now, him waking up believing she was still his safe place.

Her voice came out small. “What if he remembers?”

The doctor spoke gently. “Then we’ll tell him the truth. This isn’t meant to deceive him forever.”

Y/N closed her eyes.

“…Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll do it. For now.”

His mother broke down immediately, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

His father joined them, his voice rough. “We owe you more than we can say.”

Y/N hugged them back, even as her heart ached.

Because walking into that room meant pretending she’d never been left — and loving someone who didn’t remember letting her go.

When Y/N finally stepped into the hospital room, Donghyuck’s head snapped toward the door instantly.

“There you are.”

Relief washed over his face so openly it almost hurt to look at. He tried to sit up, muscles tensing as he pushed against the mattress.

“Hey—” Y/N hurried forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. “No, don’t do that. You need to rest.”

He frowned at her, clearly unconvinced. “I’m fine. I just—” He reached for her, fingers curling around her wrist, tugging gently but insistently. “Come here. Sit with me.”

She hesitated for half a second before giving in, letting him pull her down beside the bed. The moment she sat, he relaxed, like something essential had finally been put back where it belonged.

“You scared me,” he said quietly. “I woke up and you weren’t here.”

Her throat tightened. “I’m here now.”

He lifted her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I missed you.”

The words landed heavier than he could possibly know.

She swallowed. “…I missed you too.”

Donghyuck studied her face, concern flickering through his eyes. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“I’m okay,” she replied, forcing a small smile. “What about you? Does anything hurt? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Just… stay. Like this.”

She nodded, lifting her free hand to his hair. Her fingers moved through it slowly, carefully, the same way she used to after long nights when he came home exhausted and overstimulated, shoulders tense from the weight of everything he carried.

His eyelids fluttered almost immediately.

“Oh,” he murmured, surprised. “That feels so good.”

Her chest ached.

“Of course it does,” she whispered.

His breathing gradually evened out, grip on her hand loosening as sleep pulled him under. Within minutes, he was fast asleep, cheek tilted toward her palm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N exhaled shakily, shoulders slumping.

She stared at him — peaceful, unaware, safe in a reality that no longer existed — and gently rested her forehead against the edge of the bed.

“This is going to be so hard,” she whispered to no one.

But she didn’t move her hand away.

--------------------

The doctors cleared Donghyuck to rest at home instead of staying overnight, with strict instructions.

“No work. No schedules. No pressure,” the doctor said firmly. “At least a few months. Your brain needs time.”

Donghyuck groaned. “I’m going to go insane.”

Y/N smiled politely, hand resting lightly on his arm. “You’ll survive.”

He leaned closer to her, lowering his voice. “As long as you’re there.”

The drive to his place was quiet, broken only by him humming softly to whatever song played on the radio. Y/N watched the city pass by the window, nerves twisting tighter the closer they got.

When she unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiarity hit her all at once.

Nothing had changed.

She froze just inside the entryway, eyes drifting toward his gaming desk. Her breath caught when she saw it — a framed photo of the two of them, smiling at the camera, her head resting on his shoulder. Another one sat on the living room shelf, slightly crooked, like it had been adjusted often.

She blinked, stunned.

She’d been so sure he would’ve put them away by now.

Donghyuck kicked off his shoes and stretched. “Feels good to be home.”

He turned to her, noticing her still standing there. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said quickly, forcing herself to move. “Just… tired.”

He studied her for a second, then grinned. “Nap with me.”

Her heart skipped. “You need to shower first.”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re so bossy.”

Still, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before heading toward the bedroom. “Don’t disappear.”

“I won’t,” she murmured.

He emerged a moment later with clean clothes in his hands, frowning slightly. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

He gestured vaguely toward the bedroom. “Why is your side of the bedside table empty? And your toothbrush isn’t in the bathroom.”

Her pulse spiked.

She scrambled for the first explanation that sounded believable. “Oh—uh. I’m in the middle of switching stuff out. It’s been a while since I replaced some things, so I didn’t bring everything yet.”

Donghyuck hummed, unconcerned. “Okay.”

He shrugged, already distracted, and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the shower starting made her shoulders sag in relief.

She didn’t waste a second.

Y/N picked up his phone from the counter. Her fingers hovered for a moment before unlocking it.

The password was the same.

Her chest tightened at that.

She opened their message thread — empty for months, a gap that screamed the truth she wasn’t allowed to tell. Quickly, she typed a few harmless messages from earlier dates.

Did you eat yet? Don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you soon ❤️

She sent them to herself, spacing them out just enough to look natural.

Then she opened his camera roll.

Mostly work. Screenshots. A few old photos of them — ones she recognized immediately.

She airdropped a couple recent selfies from her phone into his gallery, making sure they blended in. Nothing too obvious. Just enough to erase suspicion.

By the time the shower shut off, her hands were shaking.

She placed his phone back exactly where it had been and took a steadying breath.

This was only temporary, she reminded herself.

But as Donghyuck emerged, hair damp and smile easy, already reaching for her like everything was still the same, Y/N knew—

Temporary was going to hurt the most.

Y/N sat on the opposite end of the couch, clipboard of discharge papers folded neatly in her hands.

“Okay,” she said, clearing her throat, slipping into a tone that tried very hard to sound calm and not terrified. “Doctor’s rules.”

Donghyuck groaned immediately, slumping back. “I hate rules.”

“You’re going to hate these,” she replied dryly. “First — screen time is limited. Max three hours a day.”

His head snapped up. “Three?!”

“And it has to be spaced out,” she added. “You can slowly increase it over time if you don’t get headaches or dizziness.”

He stared at her like she’d personally betrayed him.

“Reading is encouraged,” she continued, flipping a page. “Physical books, not on a tablet.”

He sighed dramatically. “This is torture.”

“You also have to be really careful in the shower. No rushing, no locking the door, and you sit down if you feel even a little dizzy.”

“Yes, mom,” he muttered.

“And you have to take your meds. No skipping.”

“I won’t,” he said, softer now.

She hesitated, then added, “No strenuous physical activity.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a slow grin. “What about in bed?”

Her face flushed instantly. “Yes — even in bed.”

He laughed, delighted. “Wow. You’re serious.”

She crossed her arms. “Very.”

He tilted his head. “Okay, but what about… other stuff?”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hyuck, it’s all off the table, okay? This is now a PG-13 household.”

He folded his arms, pouting like a sulky kid. “This is the worst recovery plan ever.”

“You’ll live,” she said, though she was smiling.

She continued down the list. “You can’t drive. No gym. No rehearsals. No group activities until you’re cleared.”

His expression shifted then — the teasing drained away, shoulders sagging.

She noticed immediately. “Hey,” she said gently. “What’s wrong?”

He stared down at his hands. “I feel stupid,” he admitted quietly. “I got into an accident, my career’s on hold, I’m suspended from group stuff… it just feels selfish. Like everyone has to stop because of me.”

Her chest tightened.

“You didn’t choose this,” she said firmly. “It’s not your fault. You don’t owe anyone your health.”

He glanced at her, eyes soft but sad. Then he frowned slightly. “You’re sitting really far away.”

She smiled.

Without another word, she crossed the space between them and sat down on his lap. His arms came around her instantly, like it was instinct, like he’d been waiting for it.

“There,” she said softly.

He relaxed against her, murmuring, “That’s better.”

His lips brushed her clavicle in a light, absent kiss, nothing more than comfort. He closed his eyes, forehead resting against her shoulder, breathing evening out.

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, heart heavy but steady.

This was the hardest part — being close, being familiar, pretending everything was still okay.

And doing it anyway.

--------------

Donghyuck fell asleep without realizing it.

One moment he was breathing slowly against her shoulder, arms loose around her waist, and the next his weight settled fully into her, head resting against her chest like it had a hundred times before. His breaths evened out, warm and familiar, the soft rise and fall pressing into her ribs.

Y/N didn’t move.

She should have. She knew she should have.

But she didn’t.

A sharp, guilty thought settled in her chest — this feels too good.

She’d missed this. God, she’d missed this more than she’d ever admitted. The quiet closeness, the way he fit against her like it was natural, the comfort of being needed without having to ask.

Without him, the past eight months had been hollow. Heavy. She’d moved through her days feeling lost, hurt, and unbearably alone, pretending she was fine while everything inside her felt misplaced.

And she was still angry.

Angry that he’d decided for both of them. That he’d broken her heart gently, carefully, without ever giving her the chance to fight for them. Angry that he’d walked away while she’d been left carrying all the love with nowhere to put it.

Yet here she was.

Because despite everything, she still cared. Deeply. Desperately.

His health mattered more than her pride, more than her pain. And she would do anything — anything — to make sure he healed safely.

Y/N lowered her gaze to him, fingers moving through his hair in slow, familiar strokes. His face was relaxed in sleep, lashes casting faint shadows, expression soft in a way she hadn’t seen in so long.

She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“This is the last thing,” she whispered silently to herself. “The very last thing I’ll ever do for Lee Donghyuck.”

Her chest tightened as she made the promise.

As soon as he remembered — as soon as the truth came back — she would be gone. No explanations. No lingering. No reopening wounds that had already scarred over.

For now, though…

She held him.

She let herself enjoy the weight of him in her arms, his head warm against her chest as he slept in her lap. She stroked his hair, kissed his head again, mourning a life she once knew — a love that still existed, even if only in fragments.

And she stayed very still, afraid that if she moved, it would all disappear.

----------------

A few days passed, and Y/N slipped back into their old routine like muscle memory.

It scared her how easy it was.

Donghyuck slept in now, no alarms, no frantic mornings rushing out the door. She insisted on it every time he tried to wake early, gently pushing him back into the pillows.

“You need rest,” she’d say firmly. “Work isn’t going anywhere.”

So she became the one in the kitchen each morning.

His parents called daily. Sometimes twice. Y/N updated them carefully — no headaches today, he ate well, he’d taken his meds. Each time, there was a pause before his mother quietly said, “Thank you. Again.”

Y/N never knew what to say back.

This morning, she was standing at the stove, eggs sizzling softly in the pan, when she felt warmth behind her.

Lazy footsteps. Familiar ones.

Donghyuck wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, cheek pressing into her shoulder as if it was instinct. He kissed the side of her neck, then her cheek, slow and affectionate.

“Morning,” he murmured.

Her breath caught.

Y/N bit her lip, forcing herself to relax instead of stiffening. This is normal, she reminded herself. You have to let this be normal.

She turned slightly, lifting a hand to rest over his arm. “Morning. You should still be sleeping.”

He smiled against her skin. “Couldn’t. Smelled food.”

She laughed softly, a sound that surprised even her.

When breakfast was done, Donghyuck settled at the coffee table, shirtless, legs crossed comfortably as he read. His glasses sat low on his nose, hair sticking up messily from sleep, sunlight catching on his skin in a way that made her chest ache.

Y/N leaned against the counter, watching him for just a second too long.

This was everything she used to love.

This was home.

And it wasn’t real anymore.

She exhaled slowly, turning back to the stove before the weight of it crushed her. Because as perfect as it looked — as peaceful as it felt — it was all built on borrowed time and a truth waiting to resurface.

An illusion she was living inside.

And one day soon, it would shatter.

“I need to do groceries,” Y/N said casually, rinsing the pan in the sink.

Donghyuck looked up from the couch immediately. “I’ll come with you.”

She hesitated. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said simply, already reaching for his hoodie.

She didn’t argue.

Y/N drove, hands steady on the wheel, while Donghyuck sat in the passenger seat humming softly under his breath. It took her a moment to recognize the tune.

She glanced at him. “Is that an EXO song?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. It’s stuck in my head.”

Without saying anything, she connected her phone and pulled up an EXO playlist, pressing play. The music filled the car, familiar and warm.

Donghyuck’s smile widened. He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You always know.”

Her chest tightened, but she smiled anyway.

They parked at the Lotte Department Store grocery level, the automatic doors sliding open to cool air and quiet chatter. Donghyuck took the cart from her immediately, hands firm on the handle as he pushed it slowly down the first aisle.

They moved unhurriedly.

Rice. Vegetables. Pantry staples. Donghyuck paused often, squinting at labels like he was on a mission, glasses slipping slightly down his nose. Y/N didn’t rush him. She just walked beside him, enjoying the absurd normalcy of it all.

At one point, she noticed him quietly tossing her favorite sweets into the cart. Then fruit she loved. He didn’t ask. Didn’t comment.

He just knew.

Her heart swelled painfully.

“Hyuck,” she started, but stopped herself.

He glanced at her. “What?”

“…Nothing.”

He went back to pushing the cart.

They stopped near the refrigerated section, Donghyuck still reading ingredients thoughtfully.

“What can I cook for you, baby?” he asked, eyes still on the shelves.

The word hit her softly but deeply.

She loved when he called her that. Always had.

“Anything you want,” she said, smiling at him. “I love everything you make.”

He hummed, pretending to deliberate for a moment longer before nodding decisively.

“Kimchi jjigae it is.”

Y/N laughed, light and genuine. “I knew you’d say that.”

Donghyuck grinned, nudging the cart forward again.

And for just a little while longer, they let the world believe they were exactly where they belonged.

The checkout line moved quickly.

Y/N reached for her bag out of habit, fingers just brushing the strap when a soft beep sounded first. She looked up to see Donghyuck already tapping his card against the reader, completely unbothered.

“Baby,” he said with a small laugh, grabbing the receipt, “why do you even try? You know I’m never gonna let you pay.”

She rolled her eyes, lips twitching despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“And proud,” he replied, already lifting the grocery bags like they weighed nothing. “Stay there.”

She watched him walk ahead, shoulders relaxed, familiar confidence in every step. He’d always been like this — stubborn, protective, quietly insistent on taking care of things even when she didn’t ask.

Some things never changed.

They got into the car, Donghyuck immediately scrolling through the music. This time, upbeat 127 tracks filled the space. He turned it up and started singing along without shame, hitting the high notes with dramatic flair.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, smiling softly, listening.

During the breakup, she’d tried so hard to avoid anything that reminded her of him. Deleted playlists. Skipped songs. Changed stations. But late at night, when everything felt too quiet, she’d give in.

She’d listen to his music.

Especially his solo album.

Just to hear his voice.

She sighed before she could stop herself.

Donghyuck glanced over. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head quickly. “Nothing. I just… missed hearing you sing like this.”

His smile turned slow and teasing. “You know you can get a private concert from me anytime you want.”

He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Her heart stuttered.

Without thinking, she turned his hand over and kissed it back, soft and brief. When she looked up at him again, he was beaming — bright, open, completely unaware of the ache blooming in her chest.

She faced the road again, fingers still laced with his.

And let herself enjoy the sound of his voice a little longer.

---------------

They unpacked the groceries together, moving around each other with practiced ease.

Y/N stacked containers in the fridge while Donghyuck organized the cabinets, humming quietly to himself. It felt automatic — like their bodies remembered the choreography even if everything else was fractured.

He opened the recycling bin and froze.

“…Why are there so many alcohol bottles in here?”

Y/N looked over, wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. She peeked inside.

Soju. A lot of it.

“Oh,” she said carefully. “Maybe it just… built up over time?”

But even as she said it, confusion flickered across her face too. Donghyuck didn’t usually drink like this. He liked a casual drink, sure — but this much?

Her eyes caught the labels.

Original flavor.

Her chest tightened.

He only ever drank that when he was stressed. When something was wrong but he didn’t want to talk about it.

Donghyuck shrugged, unconcerned. “Huh. Weird. I’ll empty it later.”

He closed the bin and moved on like it didn’t matter, but Y/N stayed frozen for a second longer, the implication sitting heavy in her chest.

He’d been hurting more than she knew.

He turned back to her, brighter now. “Maybe I can cook tonight and invite Johnny and Mark over or something. Keep things normal.”

Her heart skipped — then sank.

“Yeah,” she said after a beat. “Sure.”

But nerves crept in immediately.

She hadn’t seen them in so long. Not since the breakup. They knew the truth — all of it. They knew Donghyuck had ended things, knew she’d disappeared from their shared spaces, knew how much it had hurt.

And now they’d have to pretend.

Pretend nothing ever broke. Pretend she hadn’t cried herself to sleep for months. Pretend this domestic little bubble wasn’t built on borrowed time and silence.

She knew Donghyuck’s parents had already contacted the members, explained the situation carefully.

He doesn’t remember. Please don’t tell him yet. Just act normal.

Y/N swallowed.

Normal was going to be the hardest part.

She looked at Donghyuck as he started pulling ingredients out for dinner, sleeves rolled up, completely at ease.

And she wondered how long they could all keep up the lie before something cracked.

Y/N’s chest felt too tight, thoughts stacking on top of each other until it became hard to breathe.

“I think I’m gonna take a quick nap,” she said quietly, setting her phone down.

Donghyuck looked up immediately. “Are you okay?”

He stood and gently pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, brows knitting together in concern.

She caught his wrist before he could pull away. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “Just a bit tired.”

He searched her face for a second, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll wake you when I’m done cooking and when the boys are coming.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She fell asleep faster than she expected.

When she woke up, the apartment smelled like kimchi and garlic, warm and comforting. Somewhere nearby, Donghyuck was humming under his breath — low and tuneless, the way he always did when he cooked.

She sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before reaching for her phone. She scrolled aimlessly, then opened a chat with one of her friends.

Coffee soon? I miss you.

She sat up, grounding herself, then walked out to the kitchen.

“Everything looks great,” she said, peeking into the pot.

Donghyuck smiled proudly. “Good timing. Mark and Johnny will be here in ten minutes.”

Her stomach fluttered. “You should shower.”

He glanced down at himself, then laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“I’ll let them in,” she added quickly.

“Okay,” he said easily, already heading toward the bedroom.

When the doorbell rang, Y/N paused for a breath before opening it.

She didn’t know what she’d expected — awkwardness, maybe hesitation.

Instead, Johnny’s face lit up instantly.

“Y/N!”

Before she could react, he lifted her off the ground in a huge hug. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around him automatically.

“We missed you!” Mark said warmly, pulling her into a hug next.

“It’s so nice to see you both,” she said honestly.

They stepped inside, voices softer now.

“How’s Hyuck?” Mark asked. “Does he remember anything?”

She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

Johnny’s expression turned gentle. “That must be really hard. Pretending.”

She shrugged lightly. “It is.”

He hesitated, then said, “You didn’t have to cut us off, you know. We became your friends too.”

She smiled sadly. “That’s really nice of you to say. But it didn’t feel right. I never wanted Hyuck to feel like I was imposing on his life when he didn’t want me in it.”

Johnny’s voice softened. “If you ever want to talk about anything — anything at all — I’m here for you.”

Her eyes burned just a little. She nodded. “Thank you.”

Footsteps sounded from the hallway.

Donghyuck walked out, hair still damp from the shower, towel slung over his shoulder. “What’s up, losers?”

Mark grinned. “Good to see you, man.”

Y/N stepped back slightly, heart steadying as the night continued — all of them playing their parts, even as the truth waited quietly between them.

Johnny and Mark settled onto the couch, the atmosphere carefully casual.

“So,” Johnny said, leaning back, “how are you feeling, Hyuck? Really.”

Donghyuck shrugged. “Okay, I think. Head’s still a little weird. Everything feels… slow.”

Mark nodded. “That makes sense. What’s the last thing you remember before the accident?”

Donghyuck went quiet, brows furrowing as he searched his mind. “It’s fuzzy,” he admitted. “But I remember going to the aquarium with Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart skipped.

“That was… a year and two months ago,” she said gently.

His eyes widened. “Seriously? I can’t believe I can’t remember almost a whole year.” He laughed weakly, shaking his head. “Guess I’ll have to relearn choreo and songs if it doesn’t come back.”

“You won’t,” Mark said quickly. “Your body remembers that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Johnny added. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck nodded, reassured. He stood and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “You can catch me up soon anyway. You keep up with all our comebacks better than we do.”

Her chest tightened, but she smiled.

He turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab the food.”

The second his back was turned, the three of them exchanged a look — heavy, unspoken, full of things they couldn’t say.

Y/N broke the silence quietly. “Your latest song… the one you released three months ago? It was really good.”

Mark smiled. “Thanks.”

Donghyuck glanced back over his shoulder, confused. “Wait — how come you haven’t talked to them about it yet? Three months is kind of a long time.”

She shrugged, keeping her voice light. “It just… hasn’t come up.”

“Hmm,” he said, still watching her for a second longer before turning back to the stove.

Her smile didn’t falter.

Inside, though, her thoughts spiraled.

How many little slip-ups can happen before he notices?

She stared at his back, listening to the soft clink of dishes, wondering how long the illusion could survive before the cracks became impossible to hide.

Dinner ends up warmer than Y/N expected.

Laughter fills the apartment, overlapping voices and easy teasing, the kind that makes time slip by unnoticed. Donghyuck moves comfortably between the stove and the table, plating food with practiced care. At one point, without even looking at her, he cuts her meat into smaller pieces and slides the plate closer.

She freezes for half a second.

Then exhales.

He didn’t even think about it. He just did it — the same way he always used to.

They eat, talk, laugh. For a little while, the tension loosens its grip.

Afterward, they decide to put on a new series everyone’s been talking about. The four of them squeeze onto the couch, Donghyuck settling in the middle. At some point, Y/N’s exhaustion catches up to her. Her head tips against his shoulder, body relaxing before she can stop herself.

She falls asleep there.

The episode ends, and she drifts in and out of consciousness, sounds muffled but familiar.

“She’s been really tired lately,” Donghyuck says quietly.

Y/N doesn’t open her eyes.

“She’s been taking such good care of me,” he continues, voice softer now. “Always double-checking my meds, making sure I follow the doctor’s orders… I can tell she’s stressed. About doing everything right.”

There’s a pause.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” he adds, guilt threading through his words. “I regret getting into that stupid skiing accident.”

Mark speaks first. “Hyuck, it’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees. “Stuff like this just… happens sometimes. You don’t need to punish yourself for it.”

Donghyuck sighs, shifting slightly — careful not to wake her. He lowers his head and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Y/N’s hair.

“I’m just really lucky,” he murmurs. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Y/N’s chest tightens.

She almost wants to smile.

Instead, something bitter twists quietly inside her.

Because he had lived without her. For eight months.

He just didn’t remember it.

And he was the one who let go.

---------------

The next morning, Y/N folded laundry at the foot of the bed, trying to sound casual.

“I’m gonna go clean my place today,” she said. “And bring back some clothes. Pajamas too.”

Donghyuck looked up from the couch immediately. “Why don’t we just stay at yours for a few days?”

Her hands stilled.

She pictured it instantly — the apartment she’d tried to turn into something neutral. The photos she’d packed away into a box, his hoodies folded carefully and placed on top, the box she’d meant to return but never did. It still sat in the corner, untouched, collecting dust because she couldn’t bring herself to text him.

She couldn’t bring him there like this.

She forced a smile. “No, it’s fine. I think it’s better we stay here for now. In case something jogs your memory, don’t you think? Maybe in a few weeks we can go.”

He studied her, then nodded. “Okay.”

A beat passed.

“I can come with you,” he added. “Help you clean.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, you need to rest. Especially after cooking yesterday and staying up late with Mark and Johnny.”

He frowned. “Why don’t you want me to come over?”

She sighed, turning to face him fully. “Hyuck, it’s not that. You really do need rest.”

“I don’t need rest,” he said stubbornly. “It’s boring. I need to stimulate my brain.” He paused, then pouted slightly. “Please let me come.”

Her resolve crumbled instantly.

She leaned in without thinking and pressed a soft kiss to his lips — brief, familiar, dangerous.

“…Okay,” she said quietly.

The second the word left her mouth, guilt followed.

You’re so weak, she thought.

He’d always been like this — and so had she. Always giving in, always bending, always saying yes to him far too easily.

And even knowing how this would end, she let him win anyway.

They stepped into her apartment, and the air felt different immediately.

Donghyuck kicked off his shoes and dropped onto the couch like he owned the place, stretching out comfortably. He patted his lap, eyes already on her.

“Sit with me for a second, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Y/N moved into him automatically, settling into his lap and leaning against his chest like it was second nature. It wasn’t until she felt his arms come around her that her brain caught up — you’re doing it again.

But it was too late.

“Let’s just chill for a second before we start,” he said softly, smiling down at her. “I don’t want you overstressing yourself, taking care of me and everything else.”

Her heart clenched.

She leaned down again, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before she could stop herself. “I could never be stressed taking care of you, my love.”

Her fingers slid into his hair, stroking slowly. He sighed, content, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“I don’t know why,” he murmured, “but I missed your place. It’s so much more cozy. Lived in. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been here.”

A nervous laugh slipped out of her. “Yeah, well… pretty much the same since the last time you came.”

He hummed, gaze drifting around the room.

Then his brows knit together.

“Why are our pictures together gone?”

Her stomach dropped — but her voice didn’t waver.

“I’m cleaning the frames,” she said smoothly. The lie slid out exactly as she’d practiced it in her head.

“Oh,” he said, nodding. “That makes sense.” He smiled. “Maybe I should do the same with the ones at my place. God knows the last time I cleaned them.”

He paused, then added lightly, “Maybe we should add some new ones too. Our pictures are kind of old.”

“Yeah,” she said quickly. “We can.”

She stood up immediately, breaking the moment before it swallowed her whole. “I’m gonna start cleaning.”

He reached for her wrist. “I can help.”

“No,” she said a little too fast, then softened. “You should sit. Watch TV. Rest.”

He pouted. “You’re bossy.”

“And you’re supposed to listen,” she replied gently.

After a second, he sighed. “Fine.”

He leaned back against the couch, turning on the TV while she busied herself with tidying — keeping her back to him, heart pounding, thoughts racing.

Because every question was getting closer.

And every lie was getting harder to hold together.

-----------

They stayed at her place a few hours longer than planned, the afternoon slipping by quietly. Eventually, they drove back to his apartment as the sky began to darken, exhaustion settling in again — the kind that felt heavier than just being tired.

As soon as they were inside, Donghyuck stretched and rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna shower,” he said, glancing at her with a familiar glint. “You wanna join?”

Y/N bit her lip.

Every instinct told her to say no. But she never used to. And today had already been full of too many almost-mistakes, too many moments where pulling away would feel wrong.

“You go first,” she said finally, heart racing. “I’ll join you. But no funny business.”

He smirked, clearly pleased. “Promise.”

She watched him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the apartment. A moment later, she heard him humming softly — some tune she didn’t recognize, but the habit itself was painfully familiar.

She sighed.

You can do this, she told herself. Just act normal.

She undressed slowly, nerves buzzing under her skin, then slipped into the bathroom and stepped into the shower behind him. Steam filled the space, warm and comforting.

He glanced back, smiling immediately. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied quietly.

“We should use the new soap we got,” he said casually. “On you.”

Her breath hitched just slightly.

That had always been his favorite thing — taking care of her in these small, gentle ways. Shampooing her hair, rinsing it carefully. Pressing soap into his hands and scrubbing her arms, her shoulders, like it was something precious instead of ordinary. It was never rushed, never careless.

It had always felt intimate without being overwhelming.

Like love lived in the details.

The warm water cascaded over Y/N's skin, mingling with the suds as Donghyuck's hands glided across her back. His chest pressed firmly against her from behind, his body heat cutting through the steam like a promise. 

His fingers trailed lower, lathering her hips before sliding up to cup her breasts. The soap slicked everything, making his palms glide smoothly as he kneaded the soft flesh. Y/N arched into him, a soft moan escaping her lips when his thumbs brushed over her hardening nipples. 

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, but instead of words, his lips found her neck. Soft at first, then firmer, sucking gently on the sensitive skin just below her ear. 

His mouth moved to her shoulder, teeth grazing lightly as he nipped, sending sparks down her spine.

'Donghyuck,' Y/N whispered, her voice breathy, but he only hummed in response, his hands squeezing her breasts more insistently. The fondling turned possessive, fingers pinching and rolling her nipples until another moan spilled out, louder this time. 

The water rinsed the soap away, but the heat between them built, his growing erection pressing hard against her back.

She couldn't take the tease anymore. Twisting in his arms, Y/N turned to face him, water streaming down both their faces. Her hands tangled in his wet hair as she pulled him into a kiss, desperate and hungry. 

He responded with equal fire, his lips crashing against hers roughly, tongue invading her mouth without mercy. One hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place as he devoured her.

'Fuck the doctor's orders,' he growled against her lips, voice low and ragged.

------------

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[jikookncity]

THIS IS ON SALE FOR 2 DAYS ONLY!!!!! Almost 50% off, get it while you can!

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[jikookncity]

i love prince jaehyun x siren reader so much omg will it be possible for you to post the part 2 here on tumblr? 😭

hi sorry probs not but I could run a sale on it to make it much cheaper if that helps! lmk <3

[jikookncity]

Donghyuck x Reader - Forgotten Memories

Hyuck gets into a skiing accident and forgets about a year of his life, including his breakup with y/n. When he wakes up, everyone pretends they're still together for his sake but things aren't as easy as they seem

fluff, smut (unprotected sex, shower sex), angst, happy ending, exes to lovers 

WC: 10.6k 

Eight months ago, Donghyuck had ended a four–year relationship with Y/N.

He hadn’t stopped loving her — that was the problem. His career had grown louder, faster, more demanding, and every time he looked at her, he saw someone shrinking to fit around his schedule. Late nights, missed anniversaries, phone calls cut short. He told himself breaking up was the kinder choice.

Then, one skiing accident erased the past year of his life.

When Donghyuck woke up in a hospital bed with a pounding head and unfamiliar machines beeping around him, the first thing he asked was a name.

“Where’s Y/N?”

His mother froze. His father looked up sharply from the chair beside the bed.

“Hyuck,” his mother said carefully, forcing a smile, “you’ve been in an accident. You need to rest.”

Donghyuck frowned. “I am resting. But where is she? She should be here by now.”

His father stood. “We’ll be right back,” he said quickly, already guiding the doctor out of the room.

The hallway felt too quiet.

“He remembers up to a year ago,” the doctor said after reviewing the chart. “Everything before the accident is intact. Anything after is… gone.”

His mother pressed a hand to her mouth. “That means he thinks—”

“That he and Y/N are still together,” his father finished gently.

His father ran a hand through his hair. “We can’t tell him. Not right now.”

The doctor hesitated. “Emotional shock can seriously interfere with recovery, especially with head trauma.”

His mother nodded desperately. “They were together for four years. He adored her. If we tell him they broke up—because of him—”

“He’ll spiral,” his father said quietly.

The doctor sighed. “If you’re asking my opinion… it might be best to maintain his perceived reality for now. Until his memory stabilizes.”

A long silence followed.

Finally, his mother said, “We need to call her.”

Y/N almost dropped her phone when she saw Donghyuck’s mother’s name flash on the screen.

“Hello?”

There was a sharp inhale on the other end. “Y/N… there’s been an accident.”

That was all it took.

She arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes later, hair still damp from the shower she’d abandoned, coat half-zipped, breath uneven. Donghyuck’s parents met her in the hallway before she could even ask where he was.

“He’s awake,” his father said quickly. “But—please, listen to us first.”

They sat her down in a quiet consultation room. The words came out haltingly at first, then all at once.

“He lost a year of memories.” “He thinks you’re still together.” “He keeps asking for you.”

Y/N stared at them, numb. “What?”

His mother’s eyes filled with tears. “He doesn’t remember breaking up with you. To him, everything is perfect.”

“That’s… insane,” Y/N said, standing abruptly. “You can’t expect me to—”

“We’re not asking forever,” his father interrupted, voice breaking. “Just for now. Until he heals. The doctor says emotional distress could slow his recovery.”

His mother reached for Y/N’s hands, clutching them tightly. “Please. He woke up scared, and all he wants is you.”

Y/N pulled her hands back, pacing the room. “He broke up with me,” she said quietly. “He decided we were better off apart.”

“And we know how much that hurt you,” his mother whispered. “But right now… he’s our son. And he’s fragile.”

Silence stretched between them.

Y/N stopped pacing. She thought of Donghyuck’s laugh, his crooked smile, the way he used to reach for her in his sleep. She thought of the phone calls that stopped coming. The goodbye she never got to argue against.

And now, him waking up believing she was still his safe place.

Her voice came out small. “What if he remembers?”

The doctor spoke gently. “Then we’ll tell him the truth. This isn’t meant to deceive him forever.”

Y/N closed her eyes.

“…Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll do it. For now.”

His mother broke down immediately, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

His father joined them, his voice rough. “We owe you more than we can say.”

Y/N hugged them back, even as her heart ached.

Because walking into that room meant pretending she’d never been left — and loving someone who didn’t remember letting her go.

When Y/N finally stepped into the hospital room, Donghyuck’s head snapped toward the door instantly.

“There you are.”

Relief washed over his face so openly it almost hurt to look at. He tried to sit up, muscles tensing as he pushed against the mattress.

“Hey—” Y/N hurried forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. “No, don’t do that. You need to rest.”

He frowned at her, clearly unconvinced. “I’m fine. I just—” He reached for her, fingers curling around her wrist, tugging gently but insistently. “Come here. Sit with me.”

She hesitated for half a second before giving in, letting him pull her down beside the bed. The moment she sat, he relaxed, like something essential had finally been put back where it belonged.

“You scared me,” he said quietly. “I woke up and you weren’t here.”

Her throat tightened. “I’m here now.”

He lifted her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I missed you.”

The words landed heavier than he could possibly know.

She swallowed. “…I missed you too.”

Donghyuck studied her face, concern flickering through his eyes. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“I’m okay,” she replied, forcing a small smile. “What about you? Does anything hurt? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Just… stay. Like this.”

She nodded, lifting her free hand to his hair. Her fingers moved through it slowly, carefully, the same way she used to after long nights when he came home exhausted and overstimulated, shoulders tense from the weight of everything he carried.

His eyelids fluttered almost immediately.

“Oh,” he murmured, surprised. “That feels so good.”

Her chest ached.

“Of course it does,” she whispered.

His breathing gradually evened out, grip on her hand loosening as sleep pulled him under. Within minutes, he was fast asleep, cheek tilted toward her palm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N exhaled shakily, shoulders slumping.

She stared at him — peaceful, unaware, safe in a reality that no longer existed — and gently rested her forehead against the edge of the bed.

“This is going to be so hard,” she whispered to no one.

But she didn’t move her hand away.

--------------------

The doctors cleared Donghyuck to rest at home instead of staying overnight, with strict instructions.

“No work. No schedules. No pressure,” the doctor said firmly. “At least a few months. Your brain needs time.”

Donghyuck groaned. “I’m going to go insane.”

Y/N smiled politely, hand resting lightly on his arm. “You’ll survive.”

He leaned closer to her, lowering his voice. “As long as you’re there.”

The drive to his place was quiet, broken only by him humming softly to whatever song played on the radio. Y/N watched the city pass by the window, nerves twisting tighter the closer they got.

When she unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiarity hit her all at once.

Nothing had changed.

She froze just inside the entryway, eyes drifting toward his gaming desk. Her breath caught when she saw it — a framed photo of the two of them, smiling at the camera, her head resting on his shoulder. Another one sat on the living room shelf, slightly crooked, like it had been adjusted often.

She blinked, stunned.

She’d been so sure he would’ve put them away by now.

Donghyuck kicked off his shoes and stretched. “Feels good to be home.”

He turned to her, noticing her still standing there. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said quickly, forcing herself to move. “Just… tired.”

He studied her for a second, then grinned. “Nap with me.”

Her heart skipped. “You need to shower first.”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re so bossy.”

Still, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before heading toward the bedroom. “Don’t disappear.”

“I won’t,” she murmured.

He emerged a moment later with clean clothes in his hands, frowning slightly. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

He gestured vaguely toward the bedroom. “Why is your side of the bedside table empty? And your toothbrush isn’t in the bathroom.”

Her pulse spiked.

She scrambled for the first explanation that sounded believable. “Oh—uh. I’m in the middle of switching stuff out. It’s been a while since I replaced some things, so I didn’t bring everything yet.”

Donghyuck hummed, unconcerned. “Okay.”

He shrugged, already distracted, and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the shower starting made her shoulders sag in relief.

She didn’t waste a second.

Y/N picked up his phone from the counter. Her fingers hovered for a moment before unlocking it.

The password was the same.

Her chest tightened at that.

She opened their message thread — empty for months, a gap that screamed the truth she wasn’t allowed to tell. Quickly, she typed a few harmless messages from earlier dates.

Did you eat yet? Don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you soon ❤️

She sent them to herself, spacing them out just enough to look natural.

Then she opened his camera roll.

Mostly work. Screenshots. A few old photos of them — ones she recognized immediately.

She airdropped a couple recent selfies from her phone into his gallery, making sure they blended in. Nothing too obvious. Just enough to erase suspicion.

By the time the shower shut off, her hands were shaking.

She placed his phone back exactly where it had been and took a steadying breath.

This was only temporary, she reminded herself.

But as Donghyuck emerged, hair damp and smile easy, already reaching for her like everything was still the same, Y/N knew—

Temporary was going to hurt the most.

Y/N sat on the opposite end of the couch, clipboard of discharge papers folded neatly in her hands.

“Okay,” she said, clearing her throat, slipping into a tone that tried very hard to sound calm and not terrified. “Doctor’s rules.”

Donghyuck groaned immediately, slumping back. “I hate rules.”

“You’re going to hate these,” she replied dryly. “First — screen time is limited. Max three hours a day.”

His head snapped up. “Three?!”

“And it has to be spaced out,” she added. “You can slowly increase it over time if you don’t get headaches or dizziness.”

He stared at her like she’d personally betrayed him.

“Reading is encouraged,” she continued, flipping a page. “Physical books, not on a tablet.”

He sighed dramatically. “This is torture.”

“You also have to be really careful in the shower. No rushing, no locking the door, and you sit down if you feel even a little dizzy.”

“Yes, mom,” he muttered.

“And you have to take your meds. No skipping.”

“I won’t,” he said, softer now.

She hesitated, then added, “No strenuous physical activity.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a slow grin. “What about in bed?”

Her face flushed instantly. “Yes — even in bed.”

He laughed, delighted. “Wow. You’re serious.”

She crossed her arms. “Very.”

He tilted his head. “Okay, but what about… other stuff?”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hyuck, it’s all off the table, okay? This is now a PG-13 household.”

He folded his arms, pouting like a sulky kid. “This is the worst recovery plan ever.”

“You’ll live,” she said, though she was smiling.

She continued down the list. “You can’t drive. No gym. No rehearsals. No group activities until you’re cleared.”

His expression shifted then — the teasing drained away, shoulders sagging.

She noticed immediately. “Hey,” she said gently. “What’s wrong?”

He stared down at his hands. “I feel stupid,” he admitted quietly. “I got into an accident, my career’s on hold, I’m suspended from group stuff… it just feels selfish. Like everyone has to stop because of me.”

Her chest tightened.

“You didn’t choose this,” she said firmly. “It’s not your fault. You don’t owe anyone your health.”

He glanced at her, eyes soft but sad. Then he frowned slightly. “You’re sitting really far away.”

She smiled.

Without another word, she crossed the space between them and sat down on his lap. His arms came around her instantly, like it was instinct, like he’d been waiting for it.

“There,” she said softly.

He relaxed against her, murmuring, “That’s better.”

His lips brushed her clavicle in a light, absent kiss, nothing more than comfort. He closed his eyes, forehead resting against her shoulder, breathing evening out.

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, heart heavy but steady.

This was the hardest part — being close, being familiar, pretending everything was still okay.

And doing it anyway.

--------------

Donghyuck fell asleep without realizing it.

One moment he was breathing slowly against her shoulder, arms loose around her waist, and the next his weight settled fully into her, head resting against her chest like it had a hundred times before. His breaths evened out, warm and familiar, the soft rise and fall pressing into her ribs.

Y/N didn’t move.

She should have. She knew she should have.

But she didn’t.

A sharp, guilty thought settled in her chest — this feels too good.

She’d missed this. God, she’d missed this more than she’d ever admitted. The quiet closeness, the way he fit against her like it was natural, the comfort of being needed without having to ask.

Without him, the past eight months had been hollow. Heavy. She’d moved through her days feeling lost, hurt, and unbearably alone, pretending she was fine while everything inside her felt misplaced.

And she was still angry.

Angry that he’d decided for both of them. That he’d broken her heart gently, carefully, without ever giving her the chance to fight for them. Angry that he’d walked away while she’d been left carrying all the love with nowhere to put it.

Yet here she was.

Because despite everything, she still cared. Deeply. Desperately.

His health mattered more than her pride, more than her pain. And she would do anything — anything — to make sure he healed safely.

Y/N lowered her gaze to him, fingers moving through his hair in slow, familiar strokes. His face was relaxed in sleep, lashes casting faint shadows, expression soft in a way she hadn’t seen in so long.

She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“This is the last thing,” she whispered silently to herself. “The very last thing I’ll ever do for Lee Donghyuck.”

Her chest tightened as she made the promise.

As soon as he remembered — as soon as the truth came back — she would be gone. No explanations. No lingering. No reopening wounds that had already scarred over.

For now, though…

She held him.

She let herself enjoy the weight of him in her arms, his head warm against her chest as he slept in her lap. She stroked his hair, kissed his head again, mourning a life she once knew — a love that still existed, even if only in fragments.

And she stayed very still, afraid that if she moved, it would all disappear.

----------------

A few days passed, and Y/N slipped back into their old routine like muscle memory.

It scared her how easy it was.

Donghyuck slept in now, no alarms, no frantic mornings rushing out the door. She insisted on it every time he tried to wake early, gently pushing him back into the pillows.

“You need rest,” she’d say firmly. “Work isn’t going anywhere.”

So she became the one in the kitchen each morning.

His parents called daily. Sometimes twice. Y/N updated them carefully — no headaches today, he ate well, he’d taken his meds. Each time, there was a pause before his mother quietly said, “Thank you. Again.”

Y/N never knew what to say back.

This morning, she was standing at the stove, eggs sizzling softly in the pan, when she felt warmth behind her.

Lazy footsteps. Familiar ones.

Donghyuck wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, cheek pressing into her shoulder as if it was instinct. He kissed the side of her neck, then her cheek, slow and affectionate.

“Morning,” he murmured.

Her breath caught.

Y/N bit her lip, forcing herself to relax instead of stiffening. This is normal, she reminded herself. You have to let this be normal.

She turned slightly, lifting a hand to rest over his arm. “Morning. You should still be sleeping.”

He smiled against her skin. “Couldn’t. Smelled food.”

She laughed softly, a sound that surprised even her.

When breakfast was done, Donghyuck settled at the coffee table, shirtless, legs crossed comfortably as he read. His glasses sat low on his nose, hair sticking up messily from sleep, sunlight catching on his skin in a way that made her chest ache.

Y/N leaned against the counter, watching him for just a second too long.

This was everything she used to love.

This was home.

And it wasn’t real anymore.

She exhaled slowly, turning back to the stove before the weight of it crushed her. Because as perfect as it looked — as peaceful as it felt — it was all built on borrowed time and a truth waiting to resurface.

An illusion she was living inside.

And one day soon, it would shatter.

“I need to do groceries,” Y/N said casually, rinsing the pan in the sink.

Donghyuck looked up from the couch immediately. “I’ll come with you.”

She hesitated. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said simply, already reaching for his hoodie.

She didn’t argue.

Y/N drove, hands steady on the wheel, while Donghyuck sat in the passenger seat humming softly under his breath. It took her a moment to recognize the tune.

She glanced at him. “Is that an EXO song?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. It’s stuck in my head.”

Without saying anything, she connected her phone and pulled up an EXO playlist, pressing play. The music filled the car, familiar and warm.

Donghyuck’s smile widened. He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You always know.”

Her chest tightened, but she smiled anyway.

They parked at the Lotte Department Store grocery level, the automatic doors sliding open to cool air and quiet chatter. Donghyuck took the cart from her immediately, hands firm on the handle as he pushed it slowly down the first aisle.

They moved unhurriedly.

Rice. Vegetables. Pantry staples. Donghyuck paused often, squinting at labels like he was on a mission, glasses slipping slightly down his nose. Y/N didn’t rush him. She just walked beside him, enjoying the absurd normalcy of it all.

At one point, she noticed him quietly tossing her favorite sweets into the cart. Then fruit she loved. He didn’t ask. Didn’t comment.

He just knew.

Her heart swelled painfully.

“Hyuck,” she started, but stopped herself.

He glanced at her. “What?”

“…Nothing.”

He went back to pushing the cart.

They stopped near the refrigerated section, Donghyuck still reading ingredients thoughtfully.

“What can I cook for you, baby?” he asked, eyes still on the shelves.

The word hit her softly but deeply.

She loved when he called her that. Always had.

“Anything you want,” she said, smiling at him. “I love everything you make.”

He hummed, pretending to deliberate for a moment longer before nodding decisively.

“Kimchi jjigae it is.”

Y/N laughed, light and genuine. “I knew you’d say that.”

Donghyuck grinned, nudging the cart forward again.

And for just a little while longer, they let the world believe they were exactly where they belonged.

The checkout line moved quickly.

Y/N reached for her bag out of habit, fingers just brushing the strap when a soft beep sounded first. She looked up to see Donghyuck already tapping his card against the reader, completely unbothered.

“Baby,” he said with a small laugh, grabbing the receipt, “why do you even try? You know I’m never gonna let you pay.”

She rolled her eyes, lips twitching despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“And proud,” he replied, already lifting the grocery bags like they weighed nothing. “Stay there.”

She watched him walk ahead, shoulders relaxed, familiar confidence in every step. He’d always been like this — stubborn, protective, quietly insistent on taking care of things even when she didn’t ask.

Some things never changed.

They got into the car, Donghyuck immediately scrolling through the music. This time, upbeat 127 tracks filled the space. He turned it up and started singing along without shame, hitting the high notes with dramatic flair.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, smiling softly, listening.

During the breakup, she’d tried so hard to avoid anything that reminded her of him. Deleted playlists. Skipped songs. Changed stations. But late at night, when everything felt too quiet, she’d give in.

She’d listen to his music.

Especially his solo album.

Just to hear his voice.

She sighed before she could stop herself.

Donghyuck glanced over. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head quickly. “Nothing. I just… missed hearing you sing like this.”

His smile turned slow and teasing. “You know you can get a private concert from me anytime you want.”

He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Her heart stuttered.

Without thinking, she turned his hand over and kissed it back, soft and brief. When she looked up at him again, he was beaming — bright, open, completely unaware of the ache blooming in her chest.

She faced the road again, fingers still laced with his.

And let herself enjoy the sound of his voice a little longer.

---------------

They unpacked the groceries together, moving around each other with practiced ease.

Y/N stacked containers in the fridge while Donghyuck organized the cabinets, humming quietly to himself. It felt automatic — like their bodies remembered the choreography even if everything else was fractured.

He opened the recycling bin and froze.

“…Why are there so many alcohol bottles in here?”

Y/N looked over, wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. She peeked inside.

Soju. A lot of it.

“Oh,” she said carefully. “Maybe it just… built up over time?”

But even as she said it, confusion flickered across her face too. Donghyuck didn’t usually drink like this. He liked a casual drink, sure — but this much?

Her eyes caught the labels.

Original flavor.

Her chest tightened.

He only ever drank that when he was stressed. When something was wrong but he didn’t want to talk about it.

Donghyuck shrugged, unconcerned. “Huh. Weird. I’ll empty it later.”

He closed the bin and moved on like it didn’t matter, but Y/N stayed frozen for a second longer, the implication sitting heavy in her chest.

He’d been hurting more than she knew.

He turned back to her, brighter now. “Maybe I can cook tonight and invite Johnny and Mark over or something. Keep things normal.”

Her heart skipped — then sank.

“Yeah,” she said after a beat. “Sure.”

But nerves crept in immediately.

She hadn’t seen them in so long. Not since the breakup. They knew the truth — all of it. They knew Donghyuck had ended things, knew she’d disappeared from their shared spaces, knew how much it had hurt.

And now they’d have to pretend.

Pretend nothing ever broke. Pretend she hadn’t cried herself to sleep for months. Pretend this domestic little bubble wasn’t built on borrowed time and silence.

She knew Donghyuck’s parents had already contacted the members, explained the situation carefully.

He doesn’t remember. Please don’t tell him yet. Just act normal.

Y/N swallowed.

Normal was going to be the hardest part.

She looked at Donghyuck as he started pulling ingredients out for dinner, sleeves rolled up, completely at ease.

And she wondered how long they could all keep up the lie before something cracked.

Y/N’s chest felt too tight, thoughts stacking on top of each other until it became hard to breathe.

“I think I’m gonna take a quick nap,” she said quietly, setting her phone down.

Donghyuck looked up immediately. “Are you okay?”

He stood and gently pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, brows knitting together in concern.

She caught his wrist before he could pull away. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “Just a bit tired.”

He searched her face for a second, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll wake you when I’m done cooking and when the boys are coming.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She fell asleep faster than she expected.

When she woke up, the apartment smelled like kimchi and garlic, warm and comforting. Somewhere nearby, Donghyuck was humming under his breath — low and tuneless, the way he always did when he cooked.

She sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before reaching for her phone. She scrolled aimlessly, then opened a chat with one of her friends.

Coffee soon? I miss you.

She sat up, grounding herself, then walked out to the kitchen.

“Everything looks great,” she said, peeking into the pot.

Donghyuck smiled proudly. “Good timing. Mark and Johnny will be here in ten minutes.”

Her stomach fluttered. “You should shower.”

He glanced down at himself, then laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“I’ll let them in,” she added quickly.

“Okay,” he said easily, already heading toward the bedroom.

When the doorbell rang, Y/N paused for a breath before opening it.

She didn’t know what she’d expected — awkwardness, maybe hesitation.

Instead, Johnny’s face lit up instantly.

“Y/N!”

Before she could react, he lifted her off the ground in a huge hug. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around him automatically.

“We missed you!” Mark said warmly, pulling her into a hug next.

“It’s so nice to see you both,” she said honestly.

They stepped inside, voices softer now.

“How’s Hyuck?” Mark asked. “Does he remember anything?”

She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

Johnny’s expression turned gentle. “That must be really hard. Pretending.”

She shrugged lightly. “It is.”

He hesitated, then said, “You didn’t have to cut us off, you know. We became your friends too.”

She smiled sadly. “That’s really nice of you to say. But it didn’t feel right. I never wanted Hyuck to feel like I was imposing on his life when he didn’t want me in it.”

Johnny’s voice softened. “If you ever want to talk about anything — anything at all — I’m here for you.”

Her eyes burned just a little. She nodded. “Thank you.”

Footsteps sounded from the hallway.

Donghyuck walked out, hair still damp from the shower, towel slung over his shoulder. “What’s up, losers?”

Mark grinned. “Good to see you, man.”

Y/N stepped back slightly, heart steadying as the night continued — all of them playing their parts, even as the truth waited quietly between them.

Johnny and Mark settled onto the couch, the atmosphere carefully casual.

“So,” Johnny said, leaning back, “how are you feeling, Hyuck? Really.”

Donghyuck shrugged. “Okay, I think. Head’s still a little weird. Everything feels… slow.”

Mark nodded. “That makes sense. What’s the last thing you remember before the accident?”

Donghyuck went quiet, brows furrowing as he searched his mind. “It’s fuzzy,” he admitted. “But I remember going to the aquarium with Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart skipped.

“That was… a year and two months ago,” she said gently.

His eyes widened. “Seriously? I can’t believe I can’t remember almost a whole year.” He laughed weakly, shaking his head. “Guess I’ll have to relearn choreo and songs if it doesn’t come back.”

“You won’t,” Mark said quickly. “Your body remembers that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Johnny added. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck nodded, reassured. He stood and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “You can catch me up soon anyway. You keep up with all our comebacks better than we do.”

Her chest tightened, but she smiled.

He turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab the food.”

The second his back was turned, the three of them exchanged a look — heavy, unspoken, full of things they couldn’t say.

Y/N broke the silence quietly. “Your latest song… the one you released three months ago? It was really good.”

Mark smiled. “Thanks.”

Donghyuck glanced back over his shoulder, confused. “Wait — how come you haven’t talked to them about it yet? Three months is kind of a long time.”

She shrugged, keeping her voice light. “It just… hasn’t come up.”

“Hmm,” he said, still watching her for a second longer before turning back to the stove.

Her smile didn’t falter.

Inside, though, her thoughts spiraled.

How many little slip-ups can happen before he notices?

She stared at his back, listening to the soft clink of dishes, wondering how long the illusion could survive before the cracks became impossible to hide.

Dinner ends up warmer than Y/N expected.

Laughter fills the apartment, overlapping voices and easy teasing, the kind that makes time slip by unnoticed. Donghyuck moves comfortably between the stove and the table, plating food with practiced care. At one point, without even looking at her, he cuts her meat into smaller pieces and slides the plate closer.

She freezes for half a second.

Then exhales.

He didn’t even think about it. He just did it — the same way he always used to.

They eat, talk, laugh. For a little while, the tension loosens its grip.

Afterward, they decide to put on a new series everyone’s been talking about. The four of them squeeze onto the couch, Donghyuck settling in the middle. At some point, Y/N’s exhaustion catches up to her. Her head tips against his shoulder, body relaxing before she can stop herself.

She falls asleep there.

The episode ends, and she drifts in and out of consciousness, sounds muffled but familiar.

“She’s been really tired lately,” Donghyuck says quietly.

Y/N doesn’t open her eyes.

“She’s been taking such good care of me,” he continues, voice softer now. “Always double-checking my meds, making sure I follow the doctor’s orders… I can tell she’s stressed. About doing everything right.”

There’s a pause.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” he adds, guilt threading through his words. “I regret getting into that stupid skiing accident.”

Mark speaks first. “Hyuck, it’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees. “Stuff like this just… happens sometimes. You don’t need to punish yourself for it.”

Donghyuck sighs, shifting slightly — careful not to wake her. He lowers his head and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Y/N’s hair.

“I’m just really lucky,” he murmurs. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Y/N’s chest tightens.

She almost wants to smile.

Instead, something bitter twists quietly inside her.

Because he had lived without her. For eight months.

He just didn’t remember it.

And he was the one who let go.

---------------

The next morning, Y/N folded laundry at the foot of the bed, trying to sound casual.

“I’m gonna go clean my place today,” she said. “And bring back some clothes. Pajamas too.”

Donghyuck looked up from the couch immediately. “Why don’t we just stay at yours for a few days?”

Her hands stilled.

She pictured it instantly — the apartment she’d tried to turn into something neutral. The photos she’d packed away into a box, his hoodies folded carefully and placed on top, the box she’d meant to return but never did. It still sat in the corner, untouched, collecting dust because she couldn’t bring herself to text him.

She couldn’t bring him there like this.

She forced a smile. “No, it’s fine. I think it’s better we stay here for now. In case something jogs your memory, don’t you think? Maybe in a few weeks we can go.”

He studied her, then nodded. “Okay.”

A beat passed.

“I can come with you,” he added. “Help you clean.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, you need to rest. Especially after cooking yesterday and staying up late with Mark and Johnny.”

He frowned. “Why don’t you want me to come over?”

She sighed, turning to face him fully. “Hyuck, it’s not that. You really do need rest.”

“I don’t need rest,” he said stubbornly. “It’s boring. I need to stimulate my brain.” He paused, then pouted slightly. “Please let me come.”

Her resolve crumbled instantly.

She leaned in without thinking and pressed a soft kiss to his lips — brief, familiar, dangerous.

“…Okay,” she said quietly.

The second the word left her mouth, guilt followed.

You’re so weak, she thought.

He’d always been like this — and so had she. Always giving in, always bending, always saying yes to him far too easily.

And even knowing how this would end, she let him win anyway.

They stepped into her apartment, and the air felt different immediately.

Donghyuck kicked off his shoes and dropped onto the couch like he owned the place, stretching out comfortably. He patted his lap, eyes already on her.

“Sit with me for a second, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Y/N moved into him automatically, settling into his lap and leaning against his chest like it was second nature. It wasn’t until she felt his arms come around her that her brain caught up — you’re doing it again.

But it was too late.

“Let’s just chill for a second before we start,” he said softly, smiling down at her. “I don’t want you overstressing yourself, taking care of me and everything else.”

Her heart clenched.

She leaned down again, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before she could stop herself. “I could never be stressed taking care of you, my love.”

Her fingers slid into his hair, stroking slowly. He sighed, content, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“I don’t know why,” he murmured, “but I missed your place. It’s so much more cozy. Lived in. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been here.”

A nervous laugh slipped out of her. “Yeah, well… pretty much the same since the last time you came.”

He hummed, gaze drifting around the room.

Then his brows knit together.

“Why are our pictures together gone?”

Her stomach dropped — but her voice didn’t waver.

“I’m cleaning the frames,” she said smoothly. The lie slid out exactly as she’d practiced it in her head.

“Oh,” he said, nodding. “That makes sense.” He smiled. “Maybe I should do the same with the ones at my place. God knows the last time I cleaned them.”

He paused, then added lightly, “Maybe we should add some new ones too. Our pictures are kind of old.”

“Yeah,” she said quickly. “We can.”

She stood up immediately, breaking the moment before it swallowed her whole. “I’m gonna start cleaning.”

He reached for her wrist. “I can help.”

“No,” she said a little too fast, then softened. “You should sit. Watch TV. Rest.”

He pouted. “You’re bossy.”

“And you’re supposed to listen,” she replied gently.

After a second, he sighed. “Fine.”

He leaned back against the couch, turning on the TV while she busied herself with tidying — keeping her back to him, heart pounding, thoughts racing.

Because every question was getting closer.

And every lie was getting harder to hold together.

-----------

They stayed at her place a few hours longer than planned, the afternoon slipping by quietly. Eventually, they drove back to his apartment as the sky began to darken, exhaustion settling in again — the kind that felt heavier than just being tired.

As soon as they were inside, Donghyuck stretched and rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna shower,” he said, glancing at her with a familiar glint. “You wanna join?”

Y/N bit her lip.

Every instinct told her to say no. But she never used to. And today had already been full of too many almost-mistakes, too many moments where pulling away would feel wrong.

“You go first,” she said finally, heart racing. “I’ll join you. But no funny business.”

He smirked, clearly pleased. “Promise.”

She watched him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the apartment. A moment later, she heard him humming softly — some tune she didn’t recognize, but the habit itself was painfully familiar.

She sighed.

You can do this, she told herself. Just act normal.

She undressed slowly, nerves buzzing under her skin, then slipped into the bathroom and stepped into the shower behind him. Steam filled the space, warm and comforting.

He glanced back, smiling immediately. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied quietly.

“We should use the new soap we got,” he said casually. “On you.”

Her breath hitched just slightly.

That had always been his favorite thing — taking care of her in these small, gentle ways. Shampooing her hair, rinsing it carefully. Pressing soap into his hands and scrubbing her arms, her shoulders, like it was something precious instead of ordinary. It was never rushed, never careless.

It had always felt intimate without being overwhelming.

Like love lived in the details.

The warm water cascaded over Y/N's skin, mingling with the suds as Donghyuck's hands glided across her back. His chest pressed firmly against her from behind, his body heat cutting through the steam like a promise. 

His fingers trailed lower, lathering her hips before sliding up to cup her breasts. The soap slicked everything, making his palms glide smoothly as he kneaded the soft flesh. Y/N arched into him, a soft moan escaping her lips when his thumbs brushed over her hardening nipples. 

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, but instead of words, his lips found her neck. Soft at first, then firmer, sucking gently on the sensitive skin just below her ear. 

His mouth moved to her shoulder, teeth grazing lightly as he nipped, sending sparks down her spine.

'Donghyuck,' Y/N whispered, her voice breathy, but he only hummed in response, his hands squeezing her breasts more insistently. The fondling turned possessive, fingers pinching and rolling her nipples until another moan spilled out, louder this time. 

The water rinsed the soap away, but the heat between them built, his growing erection pressing hard against her back.

She couldn't take the tease anymore. Twisting in his arms, Y/N turned to face him, water streaming down both their faces. Her hands tangled in his wet hair as she pulled him into a kiss, desperate and hungry. 

He responded with equal fire, his lips crashing against hers roughly, tongue invading her mouth without mercy. One hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place as he devoured her.

'Fuck the doctor's orders,' he growled against her lips, voice low and ragged.

------------

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[jikookncity]

Donghyuck fanfic interest check

would anyone be into like a spiderhyuck fic, similar to my recent spider mark fic where the world forgets who he is and he tries to find his way back into his girlfriend's life, y/n? Although this story will include more filth

[jikookncity]

Mechanic!Jeno x Rich!Reader (smut)

WC: 3k, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, etc. you know the drill

The first time Y/N walked into Lee’s Auto & Repair, she looked like she’d taken a wrong turn out of a country club and straight into an oil change commercial. White linen pants, a pastel silk blouse, little heels that clacked on the concrete floor—completely impractical.

Jeno had to blink twice.

“Hi,” she said, peeking up at him through long lashes. “My car’s… smoking?”

She sounded innocent. A little helpless. It would’ve annoyed him if she wasn’t so damn pretty.

Jeno cleaned his hands on a rag and nodded toward the Audi behind her. “Pop the hood.”

She walked back to her car, hips swaying a little too naturally, and bent over the front seat to grab her keys. When she hit the release, Jeno caught the glint of gold on her ankle—a tiny chain. Delicate. The kind of detail a man like him wasn’t supposed to notice.

But he did.

She lingered while he worked, biting her lip while asking what a timing belt was, leaning forward every time she asked something, just a little too close. The silk of her blouse gaped when she did. Jeno pretended not to notice.

The next day, she was back.

And this time, it was denim cutoffs and a ribbed tank top—no bra, he was sure of it. She leaned against the workbench with a perfectly innocent smile while he tried to explain the leak again. Jeno almost dropped a wrench on his foot.

“You sure you’re here about your car?” Mark, one of the junior techs, muttered when Y/N left that afternoon.

“What?” Jeno said gruffly.

Mark snorted. “Dude. She’s into you.”

“She’s—what?”

“C’mon, man.” Mark leaned against the hood of an old truck. “She’s here every day now. And she doesn’t even pretend to know what’s going on under the hood. She just stares at you like you’re on the damn menu.”

Jeno tried to wave him off, but that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she twirled her hair, the way she watched his hands, how her lip caught between her teeth when he leaned under the hood.

The third day, she came in wearing a sundress that would’ve been sweet if it wasn’t cut so low. She wore lipstick this time too—shiny, pink, kissable. She crossed her legs when she sat in the waiting area, letting the hem of the dress slide up just enough for him to see the start of her thighs. Her eyes tracked him like a predator every time he moved.

Jeno tried to focus, he really did.

But it was getting harder to ignore. The scent of her perfume clung to the air when she leaned too close. She asked if she could “watch him work” and then leaned against the car with a pout when he told her it’d take a while.

The fourth day was a disaster.

Tiny lace crop top. Tiny denim skirt. Platform sandals that made her legs look endless. She bent over the counter while asking if he needed her to “drop off any more parts,” and her skirt flipped up just enough to show the curve of her ass and the tiniest glimpse of lace.

Mark saw it. Grinned. “You’re stronger than me, bro.”

Jeno wasn’t so sure anymore.

She walked over, all innocent eyes and breathy questions, licking her glossed lips while pretending to be confused about air filters and spark plugs. She reached out, touched his arm lightly, and something in him snapped.

He dropped the wrench with a loud clang.

Y/N jumped. “Everything okay?”

He wiped his hands, jaw tight, chest heaving. “Princess,” he said lowly, “you got any idea how ridiculous you look right now?”

Her eyes widened, lips parting.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing? That I haven’t noticed how every day you show up looking like you’re trying to get fucked in the middle of the shop?”

She blinked rapidly, swallowing. “Jeno, I—”

He stepped in close, crowding her back toward the car. “Is that what you want, huh?” His voice dropped. “You want me to take you back there, mess up that little skirt you wore just for me?”

Her breath hitched, thighs pressing together.

“Get in the backseat.”

The slam of the car door behind them echoed in the closed bay.

Jeno had barely given her time to scramble into the backseat before he followed, slamming the door shut and reaching for her, big hands grabbing her by the hips and dragging her onto his lap. Her skirt rode up instantly. She gasped, thighs spreading around him, back hitting the opposite door.

“You think this is a joke?” he growled, one hand sliding up the back of her bare thigh. “You’ve been coming in here all week looking like fuckin’ dessert. And I’m supposed to just smile and fix your engine?”

Her breath hitched as he yanked her top down, baring her tits to the humid air.

“You wanted my attention, didn’t you?” he rasped, thumb brushing across her nipple. “You got it now, baby. Hope you can handle it.”

Y/N moaned when he bent forward and sucked one nipple into his mouth, biting down hard enough to make her jolt.

“Every little outfit. Every sweet little question. All that lip gloss. You were begging for this,” he muttered against her skin, grinding his hips up so she felt the hard line of his cock through his coveralls. “So don’t play innocent now.”

“I wasn’t—”

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t lie to me. You wanted to get fucked in this garage, didn’t you?”

She whimpered, nodding.

“That’s what I thought.”

Jeno pushed her skirt up higher, fingers dragging her soaked panties to the side. He groaned when he felt how wet she was.

“God, look at you. Dripping for me. You wore this tiny little nothing of a skirt knowing I’d see your panties if you so much as breathed wrong.”

“Jeno, please…”

“You think I didn’t want this?” he growled, pushing two fingers into her without warning. “Think I haven’t been jerking off every night with your voice in my head? The way you say my name, all sweet and spoiled—fuck, I couldn’t sleep.”

He fingered her hard, fast, thumb rubbing tight circles over her clit while she writhed on his lap, moaning shamelessly.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw,” he hissed. “Right here. Backseat of your pretty little car. Gonna fuck you so deep, you’ll feel it every time you sit in this thing.”

“God, yes—please,” she begged, nails raking down his arms.

“Yeah?” He leaned in, nose brushing hers. “That what you want, princess? Want your mechanic’s cock inside you? Want me to ruin you like the filthy little tease you’ve been all week?”

“Fuck yes,” she gasped. “Jeno, please—need it so bad.”

He growled, pulling his coveralls down just enough to free himself. He was thick, flushed, leaking.

“No condom,” he grunted.

“I don’t care.”

That was all he needed.

He lined himself up and slammed into her in one hard thrust. Y/N cried out, back arching, hands flying to his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he hissed, holding her hips tight. “You’re so tight. Like you’ve been saving this pussy just for me.”

He didn’t start slow. He pounded up into her, fucking her into the seat with hard, punishing thrusts, one hand yanking her top down further so her tits bounced with every snap of his hips.

“You gonna cum for me?” he growled. “Right here? While I fuck the brat out of you?”

“Jeno—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“Good. Cum all over my cock, baby. Show me how desperate you’ve been.”

She shattered around him with a cry, clenching so tight he nearly lost it.

“God, that’s it,” he groaned, fucking her through it. “You take it so well. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

His thrusts grew erratic, breath ragged as he chased his own release.

“Gonna fill you up,” he growled, thrusting deep. “You want that, princess? Want me to cum in this tight little pussy?”

“Fuck—yes, yes—please!”

He buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, guttural groan, holding her there, cock twitching as he spilled inside her.

For a moment, the only sound was their breathing.

Then Jeno leaned back, cupping her jaw with a smirk. “So… you coming back tomorrow?”

She grinned, lips swollen, mascara smudged, skirt still hiked around her waist. “Only if you promise to check my fluids again.”

Y/N was still catching her breath, straddling Jeno’s lap with her panties askew and his cum dripping down her thigh when he kissed her—rough at first, all teeth and hunger, then slow. Almost reverent.

“Jesus,” he muttered against her mouth. “You’re fuckin’ dangerous.”

She giggled, brushing her fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “You started it.”

Jeno chuckled low in his chest, running his hands up her back. “No. You did, the second you walked in here with that damn perfume and no bra.”

She rolled her hips lazily, feeling him twitch beneath her. “So what? You’re gonna scold me every time I get you hard?”

His jaw clenched. “I’m trying to not fuck you again right now, sweetheart.”

Y/N bit her lip. “Who said anything about fucking?”

She slid off his lap and onto the floor between his legs.

Jeno blinked, then cursed softly when she tugged his coveralls and boxers down enough to free his cock again—still half-hard, still wet from her.

“Baby, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she said, voice sweet, eyes locked on his. “Been thinking about this since day one.”

And then her mouth was on him.

Soft, wet, warm. She licked up the underside of his shaft, tongue flicking over the head where his release still clung. Jeno hissed, grabbing the seat cushion behind him.

“Fucking hell, Y/N…”

She smiled around his cock, eyes gleaming as she took him deeper. Her lips slid down slowly, swallowing inch after inch until her nose brushed his stomach. Jeno’s head fell back against the window with a thud.

“Shit, baby, your mouth… fuck, just like that.”

She sucked him slow, messy, moaning softly like she was the one getting off on it. Her hand gripped the base while her tongue worked around the tip, teasing the slit, making him jerk in her grip.

“You wanted attention, huh?” he growled, watching her now. “This how you planned to get it? Crawl under my workbench and suck my cock like a good little girl?”

She moaned and bobbed her head faster. His thighs tensed under her hands.

“God, look at you,” he groaned. “Eyes all wet, drool on your chin, takin’ my cock so deep like it’s nothing. Fuck, you’re unreal.”

He tangled a hand in her hair, not guiding—just holding—like he needed something to anchor him. His other hand grabbed her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re perfect, you know that? A fucking mess, and perfect.”

She hummed around him in approval, and the vibrations nearly undid him.

“Shit—gonna cum,” he gasped. “You swallowin’ it?”

She nodded with a wicked gleam in her eye, sinking down to the base just as he exploded in her mouth. Jeno cursed again, low and harsh, holding her there while his cock pulsed on her tongue.

She swallowed everything, slow and proud, licking him clean before leaning back with a dazed little smirk.

Jeno stared at her—completely fucked out, lips puffy, skirt still bunched around her hips, his cum now both inside her and down her throat.

“You…” He reached for her, pulling her into his lap again. “You’re insane.”

“You like it.”

“Fuck yes, I like it.” He kissed her again, slow and deep, tasting himself on her lips.

Then he pulled back, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“You doing anything tonight?”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“I’m taking you out. Somewhere with actual seats and food and not backseats.” His thumb rubbed her hip. “If you’ll let me.”

Her grin widened. “Only if you promise dessert.”

Jeno smirked. “Babe, I’ve been starving for days.”

Catching feelings?

That night, Jeno picked her up—not in a sleek black town car, but in his old, rebuilt Chevy truck. The leather was worn, the dash cracked, but it smelled like pine and motor oil. Her dress was designer. His shirt was black and freshly ironed, sleeves rolled to the elbows to show off those forearms she already knew too well.

“You look…” he paused, eyes scanning her as she slid in next to him, “…dangerous.”

“You said food, not flattery.”

“Baby, I said both.”

He took her to a roadside diner twenty minutes out of town—the kind of place that served burgers the size of her face and milkshakes in tall metal cups. It wasn’t glamorous, but the way Jeno looked at her across the booth made her feel like the most expensive thing in the room.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said, sipping from his vanilla shake.

He raised a brow. “What’d you expect?”

“A guy who’d bang me in the backseat and then pretend he didn’t know my name the next day.”

He laughed—really laughed. “Sweetheart, I remembered your name the second you walked into my shop. Knew it before I even popped your hood.”

“Was that supposed to sound sexy?”

“Did it work?”

She smirked. “Unfortunately.”

After dinner, he drove her to a hill just outside the city where you could see the lights spread out like stars. He climbed into the bed of the truck with her, offering his jacket when the wind picked up. They laid back, shoulder to shoulder.

“I don’t usually do this,” she said softly.

“Eat burgers?”

“Fall for mechanics.”

He turned his head, smiling. “You falling for me already?”

“Maybe.”

He kissed her again—this time, soft. Slow. No heat. Just lips, a shared breath, and the feeling of something starting.

The Next Day

She was glowing the next morning. Full makeup, messy hair, wearing one of his oversized T-shirts when she walked barefoot into her marble kitchen.

And then the group text lit up.

💬 Amanda: “Tell me you’re not actually hooking up with your car guy?”

💬 Sophie: “Like a mechanic mechanic? Babe. Ew.”

💬 Claire: “At least tell me he’s hot. Otherwise, this is a total poor-girl fantasy.”

She stared at the messages, heart sinking. They hadn’t even seen him—and they were already judging.

Later that week, she swung by the shop to surprise him with coffee. But the smile on her face dimmed when she saw the way Mark elbowed Jeno the second she walked in.

“Look at you,” Mark teased. “Turning the princess into a regular townie. What’s next? She working the desk with me?”

Y/N’s smile faded just a little. She wasn’t ashamed of Jeno—not even close—but everyone else seemed to have something to say.

The brunch was her idea.

She wanted to ease her friends into the idea of Jeno. Show them that he wasn’t just the “hot mechanic” they liked to joke about in the group chat—but someone real. Someone she liked.

So she invited them all to an upscale café. Outdoor seating. Floral arrangements. A bottle of rosé already sweating in a bucket before they even arrived.

Jeno showed up in a black button-down and clean jeans, sleeves rolled, hair swept back. He looked unfairly hot, even she had to admit—and her friends definitely noticed.

Amanda leaned over as soon as he turned to check the menu. “Okay… he’s actually hot-hot.”

“Like… ‘ruin your credit score’ hot,” Sophie whispered with a giggle.

Claire stirred her mimosa. “I mean, I wouldn’t let him near my car, but I’d let him ruin my oil filter.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted.

They’d spent the whole brunch grilling him—polite smiles, thinly-veiled digs.

“So what do you do all day?” “Fix rich girls’ flat tires?” “Do you even have time for someone like Y/N?”

And through it all, Jeno stayed calm. Patient. Charming, even. But she knew that vein in his neck—the one that ticked when he clenched his jaw too tight. She knew he was holding back.

Then Claire had the audacity to slide a little closer and press her hand to his arm. “You must be good with your hands.”

That was it.

Jeno stood abruptly, pulling Y/N’s chair out for her. “We’re leaving.”

Her friends blinked.

“But we haven’t—”

“We’re leaving,” he repeated, low and sharp, already guiding her inside the building, past the restrooms, down a hallway marked STAFF ONLY.

“Jeno,” she whispered, heart hammering, “what are you—”

He spun her around and pinned her to the wall, breathing hard. His voice was low and ragged.

“They touched me.”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t even—”

“I don’t want them near me. I don’t want them looking at me. I'm not here to impress your stuck-up friends, Y/N.” He dipped his head to her ear. “I’m here because you begged for it.”

Her breath hitched.

“And you’re gonna remember exactly how you deserve to be treated. Like royalty.”

He dropped to his knees right there.

“Jeno—what if someone—”

“I don’t care.” He pushed her dress up and yanked her panties down her thighs. “Let them fucking hear you.”

Then his mouth was on her.

Tongue hot and unrelenting, licking through her folds like he was starving. He groaned when he tasted her, hands gripping her thighs to keep her open and still.

“Oh my God—Jeno,” she gasped, fingers flying into his hair.

“Say it louder,” he growled into her cunt, tongue flicking over her clit. “Let them know what this ‘car guy’ does to their rich little friend.”

She bit her lip, but he slapped her thigh lightly.

“None of that. You don’t get to be shy now. Not after you’ve been letting those bitches paw at me like I’m for sale.”

He sucked her clit hard, and her legs buckled. “That’s it. Grind on my face, princess. Make a fuckin’ mess. I’ll lick up every drop.”

She moaned loud—shameless and echoing down the hallway.

His mouth worked in filthy circles, tongue curling just right, until her body jerked and her orgasm hit fast and hard. Her knees gave out, and Jeno caught her, holding her against the wall while he kissed the inside of her thigh.

Still panting, she looked down at him. “You’re insane.”

He stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and kissed her like she was air and gasoline.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “I don’t give a fuck what they think. If they want to see me again, it’s gonna be with my head between your legs and my name on your lips.”

Y/n gasped.

--------------

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[jikookncity]

HockeyPlayer!Mark x Tutor!Reader

WC. 3.4k, mainly fluff, one vanilla smut scene, lots of cute kisses, hand holding, etc.

Mark Lee was a lot of things — captain of the university hockey team, wildly popular, infamously late to class, and currently staring at his failing calculus midterm like it personally insulted him.

“Mark,” Professor Kim sighed as he flipped through Mark’s paper, eyebrows furrowing. “You're the captain. You lose eligibility, and you're off the ice.”

“I know,” Mark mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m trying, I swear.”

“You need help. And I know just the person,” Professor Kim said, sliding a post-it with a name and number across the desk. “Y/N L/N. She’s top of every class, especially math. And kind enough to help students who are willing to try.”

Mark stared at the name. He recognized it — who didn’t? Y/N was always at the front of the lecture hall, answering questions no one else dared raise their hand for, notebook meticulously organized, and seemingly unaware of the way every professor lit up when she spoke. She was brilliant… and way out of his league.

Still, Mark was nothing if not hopeful — and desperate.

First Lesson

When he met her at the library that Friday, she was already seated, books open, highlighter in hand. She looked up when he approached, offering a polite smile.

“You’re Mark, right?” she asked.

He nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of how sweaty his palms were. “Yeah, uh, thanks for doing this. I’m kind of... hopeless.”

“You’re not hopeless,” she said kindly, patting the seat beside her. “Just a little behind. We can fix that.”

She made math feel… less like a nightmare. She didn’t laugh when he messed up or scold him when he forgot basic formulas. She explained things patiently, her voice calm and soothing, and Mark found himself nodding along not just because he understood, but because he liked hearing her talk.

By the second session, Mark wasn’t just showing up on time — he was early. By the third, he was bringing her coffee. By the fourth, he was falling, hard.

He liked the way her eyes lit up when she solved a particularly difficult problem. The way she scrunched her nose when concentrating. The way she’d smile softly when he finally got an answer right.

She was smart — ridiculously smart — and kind, and funny without even trying. And she didn’t treat him like some dumb jock. She treated him like he mattered.

Finally...

“Hey,” Mark said at the end of one of their tutoring sessions, nervously bouncing his leg. “I, uh… I was wondering…”

Y/N looked up, pen between her fingers. “Yeah?”

“You’ve helped me so much,” he began, “so I thought maybe I could… teach you something?”

Her brows lifted in curiosity. “Like what?”

Mark smiled, heart pounding. “Ice skating. You ever been?”

She laughed softly. “Not since I was ten. I was horrible.”

“Perfect,” he said, grinning. “Then I’ll be the smart one for once.”

They met at the rink on Saturday night, the place quiet except for the occasional hum of the overhead lights and the distant echo of their laughter. Mark laced up her skates for her, fingers brushing her ankle. Y/N felt the flutter in her stomach but said nothing.

He helped her step onto the ice, holding her hands in his as she wobbled.

“You got this,” he said, squeezing gently. “Just trust me.”

She nodded, clinging to him tightly as they took slow, careful steps across the rink. He didn’t let go. Not even when she fell — twice — right into his arms.

By the time they were gliding, somewhat steadily, she was laughing, cheeks pink from the cold and proximity.

“See? You’re doing amazing,” he said, slowing them to a stop in the middle of the rink. His hands lingered at her waist.

“You’re a good teacher,” she said softly, eyes meeting his.

They were close — breath-clouds mingling in the cold air, hands still holding one another, hearts beating just a little too fast. Mark’s gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes.

He swallowed hard. “Can I… take you out? For real this time?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

Official Date Night

The campus festival was in full swing — the grassy courtyard transformed with rows of colorful stalls, string lights twinkling between trees, and the air filled with laughter, sizzling food, and indie music playing from the main stage. Mark adjusted his denim jacket as he looked around, heart racing faster than when he was skating full speed toward a goal.

He spotted her immediately, waiting near the lantern display, wearing a soft sweater and jeans, hair pinned back. She turned at the sound of his footsteps and gave him the kind of smile that made his stomach twist in the best way.

“You made it,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Mark smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

They walked side by side, weaving through the crowds, stopping at booths for games and snacks. She won them both matching cat ear headbands at a ring toss booth — “for team spirit,” she claimed, laughing as he pulled his on with mock pride. Mark was a little obsessed with the way she looked when she laughed — completely carefree, eyes shining.

When they reached the food stalls, Mark bought them a double scoop of cookies and cream in a waffle cone.

“For the best tutor-slash-skater I know,” he said as he handed it to her.

“Sharing?” she teased, offering the first bite to him.

He leaned in and took it, their eyes locked the whole time. His heart was thudding. He wiped a bit of cream from the corner of her mouth with his thumb and swore she blushed.

As the sky dimmed into evening and fairy lights flickered to life overhead, they strolled beneath the glowing trees. Music floated through the air — couples were dancing near the stage, but Mark felt too nervous to ask.

Instead, he glanced down at their hands. He’d been thinking about holding hers since the start of the night, but now his palms were clammy and his brain was short-circuiting.

Do it. Just do it.

He took a breath and slowly reached out, his pinky brushing hers. She looked at him, confused for a second, then smiled so sweetly it knocked the air from his lungs — and gently linked her fingers with his.

Warm. Soft. Perfect.

He looked down at their hands like he couldn’t believe it, then up at her face, flushed pink. She was looking ahead, but her smile hadn’t left. Mark’s grin was unstoppable.

They walked hand-in-hand for the rest of the night, sharing ice cream, shy glances, and quiet giggles.

Later that night, Mark flopped onto the couch in the shared apartment he rented with a few of his hockey teammates. His head was still spinning from the festival — from the way her fingers had laced with his like they were meant to be there.

Johnny looked up from the video game he was playing, pausing mid-round.

“So… you finally held her hand?” he asked, grinning like he already knew.

Mark blinked. “How did you—?”

“Dude. You’ve been talking about this girl for a month. We’re not blind.” Johnny tossed him a bottle of water. “Did you kiss her?”

Mark blushed instantly. “No.”

“No?!” Jaemin leaned out from the kitchen. “Bro, you bought her ice cream, held her hand, she wore the cat ears — what more do you need?!”

“I just…” Mark sighed. “I didn’t want to rush her. I didn’t know if she was ready.”

Johnny leaned back on the couch and studied him. “You really like her, huh?”

Mark nodded slowly. “She’s… different. Not just hot — like, obviously she’s beautiful — but she’s smart, and kind, and she listens. She makes me wanna be better. She actually sees me.”

Johnny smiled. “Then tell her. But not with words. You’ve got all the signs, Mark — she’s into you. You held her hand, shared a cone, walked under lights like a cheesy rom-com. You think she’s doing all that for her health?”

Mark laughed, rubbing his face. “I just don’t wanna mess it up.”

“You won’t. Just be you. Next time you’re with her — go for it. Kiss her like it’s the last ten seconds of overtime.”

Their tutoring session took place off campus for the first time — tucked into a quiet corner of a small café downtown, the kind with mismatched mugs, indie music playing softly, and the scent of espresso lingering in the air.

Y/N sat across from Mark with her laptop open and a half-eaten croissant between them. He was trying very hard to focus on integrals, but it was difficult when she kept smiling at him every time he got one right. She looked cozy in an oversized cardigan, her hair loosely tied back, cheeks flushed from the autumn chill outside.

“You’re actually improving,” she said, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “I’m impressed.”

Mark grinned, pen spinning between his fingers. “Are you saying I’m smarter than I look?”

“I’m saying you’re not hopeless. Which is saying a lot,” she teased, nudging his foot under the table.

He nudged back, heart skipping.

Outside, the sky had gone from gray to pouring. Rain streaked the windows in thick lines, softening the glow of the café lights and making the world feel smaller — like it was just the two of them, tucked into a perfect little bubble.

“You don’t have an umbrella, do you?” Mark asked as they packed up.

She glanced out at the storm. “Nope.”

“Good,” he said, grinning. “Now I get to drive you home.”

The inside of Mark’s car was warm, the heater humming low. Raindrops drummed steadily against the roof as he pulled up in front of her apartment building, headlights casting a glow over the wet sidewalk.

Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt, but didn’t reach for the door yet. Her fingers played with the sleeve of her sweater, lips parted like she was thinking hard.

Mark looked over at her, unsure if he should say something. His heart was pounding — not from nerves this time, but anticipation. Hope.

And then she turned to him.

Her voice was soft, but steady. “You’re really not gonna kiss me?”

Mark’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard — and then he laughed, almost breathless.

“You’ve been waiting for me to?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

She smiled, a touch shy now, but playful. “Obviously.”

Mark didn’t hesitate after that. He leaned in slowly, watching her eyes flutter closed, and then kissed her — gentle at first, their lips brushing in a soft, unspoken promise. She sighed into it, one hand resting lightly on his cheek, pulling him closer.

The second kiss was deeper, slower — like they were finally speaking a language they’d both been trying to understand for weeks. His hand slipped behind her neck, thumb brushing her jaw, her lips warm and sweet against his.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, she didn’t move away. Her forehead rested against his, rain still tapping on the windows like background music.

“About time,” she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

Mark chuckled, his heart completely full. “You’ll come to my game tomorrow, right?”

She nodded immediately, eyes still closed. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Game day

The rink was electric — packed bleachers, pounding music, the sharp scrape of blades against ice. But Mark wasn’t thinking about the crowd, the rival team, or even the scouts rumored to be watching.

He was thinking about her.

Y/N, wrapped in his oversized team hoodie, sitting dead center in the front row. She stood out in the sea of faces like a spotlight. Her hands were wrapped around a paper cup of hot chocolate, but her eyes — warm, steady, glowing — never left him.

The first time he scored, he didn’t even celebrate with his teammates. He just looked right at her through the plexiglass, grinning, and pointed his stick her way.

The second time, he actually skated past the bench to tap the glass in front of her, chest heaving, sweat curling at his neck. The crowd caught on, cheers turning to teasing laughter. Mark didn’t care.

Even the announcer chuckled into the mic: “And that goal’s clearly for someone special in the stands…”

By the third goal, Jaemin was elbowing him mid-shift. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” Mark just laughed. “I don’t care.”

The locker room was humid and noisy, echoing with high-fives and victory shouts. Mark tugged off his gear quickly, hair damp, adrenaline still riding high. His thoughts weren’t on the scoreboard — they were on Y/N waiting just outside.

When he opened the locker room door and saw her standing there, still in his hoodie, cheeks pink, he smiled like an idiot.

“You were insane tonight,” she said, walking up to him, barely waiting before throwing her arms around his neck. “Everyone was talking about how you kept looking at me.”

He grinned against her hair. “That’s ‘cause you’re my good luck charm.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth, then back up. “You smell like sweat and victory,” she said with a grin, “and I still wanna kiss you.”

Mark didn’t need more of an invitation. He cupped her face and kissed her hard — all of the want, the buildup, the unspoken ache that had been simmering since the cafe, now spilling into the way his hands gripped her waist and pushed her gently against the locker wall.

She moaned softly into his mouth, fingers tangling in his damp hair, tugging him closer.

It got hot fast — Mark’s hands exploring beneath the hoodie she wore, her hips arching toward his, her legs brushing his in a silent plea. Their kisses turned hungry, messy, desperate.

“Mark,” she whispered breathlessly, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I want you.”

He stilled, forehead pressed to hers, his chest rising and falling.

“God, I want you too,” he whispered, voice rough. “So bad.”

His thumb brushed her cheek, trying to calm both of them down. “But not here. Not like this.”

She blinked up at him, pouting. “Why not?”

He smiled softly, kissing her again — this time slower, reverent. “Because you deserve better than a locker room quickie after a sweaty game. I want our first time to be private. Comfortable. Just you and me. No interruptions.”

She groaned, leaning into his chest. “You’re too perfect, you know that?”

He chuckled, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I’m trying to be. For you.”

Mark had it all planned out.

The night after his game, he texted Y/N with an address and one simple message: “Wear something comfy. I’ve got us a night in.”

When she arrived, she found herself standing in front of a cozy little Airbnb cabin just outside the city. The windows glowed gold against the twilight, and soft music drifted out through the slightly open door.

Inside, everything was warm and thoughtful — blankets piled on the couch, a flickering candle on the coffee table, and Mark, in sweats and a fitted black tee, waiting with two mugs of hot chocolate and a nervous smile.

“I figured… no pressure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “But if you’re still sure, I wanted our first time to be… special.”

Y/N melted on the spot.

They started slow — curled up on the couch, sharing drinks and soft laughter. He played with her fingers absentmindedly while she leaned on his shoulder, and eventually, she turned to face him fully.

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

That’s all it took.

Mark set his mug down and kissed her — soft at first, lips just barely brushing, like he was still making sure she wanted this. Her fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, and the kiss deepened. She sighed into him as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap, their mouths meeting again and again, more desperate each time.

“Tell me if anything’s too much,” he murmured against her lips, voice low and breathless.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please.”

His hands moved reverently — slipping under her sweater to feel the warmth of her skin, fingertips trailing up her sides. She gasped softly as he kissed down her neck, her head tilting to give him more. He laid her back against the couch, hovering above her, drinking in the way she looked up at him: flushed, wanting, and so impossibly beautiful.

Clothes came off slowly — exchanged between kisses and soft laughter, with little whispered compliments between each layer. He looked at her like she was something sacred, worshiped every inch of skin he uncovered.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, thumb tracing her cheekbone. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She pulled him down into another kiss, hands roaming his chest and arms, feeling every inch of the strength he carried for his team — and now, for her.

When he finally sank into her, their hands clasped together tightly, foreheads pressed close, it was nothing like she’d ever felt before.

He moved slowly, deliberately, every stroke deep and warm, pulling soft sounds from her lips as her thighs locked around his waist.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, lips brushing her jaw. “So good, baby… I’ve wanted this for so long.”

She whimpered, nails digging lightly into his back, hips rising to meet his rhythm.

He kissed her through it all — messy and slow, breath mingling, fingers laced tightly between them as if he never wanted to let go.

And when they finally fell apart together, panting and flushed and tangled beneath the blankets, he kissed her temple and whispered, “Stay. Please.”

She smiled against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Official

It was a week after the night they spent together, and Mark hadn’t stopped smiling since.

They were officially in that hazy, floating stage of love where everything felt a little too good to be real — late-night phone calls, study breaks with forehead kisses, and walking her to class just because he could.

But one thing was still unfinished. He hadn’t asked her. Not properly.

So he waited until the next hockey practice ended and texted her to meet him just outside the rink.

When she arrived, he was still in his jersey and padded pants, hair messy and cheeks flushed from the cold. He was holding something behind his back, shifting nervously on his skates.

“Hey,” she greeted him, beaming.

He leaned in for a quick kiss — still never quite believing she was his to kiss now — then stepped back and cleared his throat.

“So… I’ve kind of been thinking about how you’ve already stolen my hoodies, my attention, and all my brain cells. I figure it’s time to make it official.”

She tilted her head, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

Mark pulled the item from behind his back.

It was one of his home-game jerseys — crisp white with navy accents, his number bold across the back. But what made her breath catch was the custom name stitched just above the number:

LEE.

He handed it to her, heart pounding. “Wear it to the next game? As my girlfriend?”

Y/N blinked down at the jersey, then up at him — and her whole face lit up.

“Mark,” she whispered, laughing through the sudden tears prickling in her eyes. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend. I thought you’d never ask.”

He exhaled hard, grinning, and pulled her into a tight hug — spinning her around before setting her down and kissing her breathless right there in the snow outside the rink.

Later That Night

Mark stepped back into the locker room still grinning like an idiot. The jersey was clutched in Y/N’s hands as she left, promising to wear it to the game and send him a mirror selfie first thing.

His teammates immediately noticed.

“Alright, Romeo,” Jaemin called from the bench, pulling off his skates. “You’re glowing. Spill it.”

Mark sat down with a dreamy sigh. “She’s my girlfriend now.”

The room erupted.

“About damn time!” “Yo, she said yes?!” “Wait, she’s gonna wear your jersey now?” “I swear, that’s more official than a wedding.”

Johnny clapped him on the back. “Proud of you, Captain. You got the girl and your math grade up. Full package.”

Mark just leaned back, towel around his neck, eyes still distant.

He’d never felt luckier — not for the game, the crowd, or the win… but for the girl who’d seen past all that, and wanted him.

----------------

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[jikookncity]

NCT Masterlist

Hi everyone, this is the masterlist for all my NCT Stories

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🍓 - smut

🍡 - fluff

🫐 - angst

NCT

Johnny Suh

ExBoyfriendFarmer!Johnny x Model!Reader 🍓🍓🍓🍡

Soldier (Bodyguard) Johnny x Diplomat Daughter Reader🍓🍓

Pirate Johnny x Siren Reader🍓🍓🍡

Johnny x Reader - Forgotten Memories (smut) 🍓🍓🍡🫐

Enemies with Benefits 🍓🍓

Jaehyun x Reader x Johnny 🍓🍓

Boxer Johnny x Princess Reader 🍓🍡

DJ Johnny x Reader 🍓🍓🍡

Boyfriend Johnny x Reader - Christmas Special 🍡🍡

Nakamoto Yuta

Street Racer Yuta x Street Racer Reader 🍓🍓

Rockstar!yuta x Princess!reader (re-written) 🍓🍓🍡🫐

Bad Boy Yuta x Good Girl Reader 🍓🍓🍡

Best Boyfriend Yuta x Reader 🍡🍡🍡

Jeong Jaehyun

Soldier Jaehyun x Commander's Daughter 🍡🫐 🍓

Brothers Best Friend Jaehyun x Reader 🍓🍓

Under Cover Cop Jaehyun x Reader (street racers) 🍡🫐 🍓

Fiance's Brother Jaehyun x Reader (TSITP coded) 🍡🫐 🍓

Prince Jaehyun x Siren Reader 🫐 🍓🍓

Fire Prince Jae x Water Princess Reader 🍓🍓🍡

Bodyguard Jaehyun x Princess Reader 🍡🫐 🍓🍓

Soldier!Jaehyun x Reader 🍡🫐

Jaehyun x Reader - Trust 🫐🍡

Jaehyun x Reader x Johnny 🍓🍓

Fratboy Jaehyun x Reader 🍓🍓

Nerdy Jaehyun x Reader 🍓🍓🍡

Ex Boyfriend Jae x Reader 🫐🫐

Vampire Jaehyun x Reader (halloween special) 🍓🍓

Drabbles:

bratty reader

military phone call

Wedding Reunion

Military Bday

NYE

Christmas Special

Mark Lee

Rapper!Mark x ChildhoodFriend!Reader 🍓🫐

Spider Mark x Friend Reader 🍡🍓

Hockey player Mark x Tutor Reader 🍡🍓

Mark x Reader - Crybaby 🍓🍓

Best Friend Mark x Reader 🫐🍡

FuckBoy Best Friend Mark x Innocent Reader 🍓🍓🍡

SpiderMark x Reader 🫐🍡

Heated Rivalry - Mark x Haechan 🍓🫐 🍡

Boyfriend Mark x Reader - Christmas Special 🫐🍡

Lee Jeno

Mechanic!Jeno x Rich!Reader 🍓🍓🍡

Bodyguard Jeno x Reader 🍓🍓🍡

College Student Jeno x Reader 🍡 but 🍓 in prt 2

Best Friends Brother X Reader 🍓🍡

F1 Racer Jeno x Reader 🍓🍡🫐

Jeno x Reader x Jaemin 🍓🍓

Lee Haechan

Ex Boyfriend Haechan x Reader 🍓🍓

Prince Haechan x Princess Reader - Fake Dating 🍓🫐 🍡

Student Haechan x Undercover Princess Reader 🍓🫐 🍡

Fake Dating Ex Haechan x Reader 🍓🫐 🍡

Amnesia!Haechan x Ex Girlfriend Reader 🍓🫐 🍡

Pirate Haechan x Siren Reader 🍓🫐 🍡

Hockey Player Haechan x Figure Skater Reader 🍡🍓

Academic Rivals Haechan x Reader 🍓🍓🍡

College!Haechan x Reader 🍡🍡

Nerdy!Haechan x Reader Part 2 Sneak Peek 🍓🍓

Haechan x Reader - Bridgerton Story 🍓🍓🍡

Worst Date Ever 🍓🍡

Glow Up Boyfriend Haechan x Reader 🍓🍓🍡

Football Player Haechan x Presidents Daughter Reader 🍓🫐 🍡

Best Friends Boyfriend Haechan (also exes) x Reader 🍓🫐 🍡

Knight Haechan x Noblewoman Reader 🍓🍓🫐 (happy ending)

Heated Rivalry - Mark x Haechan 🍓🫐 🍡

Na Jaemin

Fratboy!Jaemin x Reader 🍡🍡 (part 2 has 🍓)

Ex boyfriend x Reader 🍓🍓

Dark Boyfriend Jaemin x Reader (Halloween Special) 🍓

Jeno x Reader x Jaemin 🍓🍓

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Reader has period cramps

[jikookncity]

Masterlist has been updated! Happy Reading <333

[jikookncity]

Brother's Best Friend Jaehyun x Reader (smut - repost)

WC: 4k, smut, dirty talk, oral sex, unprotected sex, shower sex, etc.

Jaehyun hasn't seen his best friend's little sister in 2 years and a lot has changed.

It started the day Jaehyun walked back into her life.

Two years away. Two years without his lazy smirks, his low voice, his teasing comments that always seemed to toe the line between playful and absolutely filthy. But when he strolled into his and Johnny’s kitchen—sun-kissed, hair blond and messy, tattoo just barely peeking from under his sleeve—Y/N swore her knees nearly gave out.

And Jaehyun noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“Look who grew up,” he murmured, eyeing her up and down shamelessly. “You always this pretty, or is it just fucking with my head today?”

Y/N flushed scarlet. She hadn’t her brothers best friend in two years and that’s the first thing out of his mouth? Moving back in with her brother and Jae was gonna be tough.

“You’re one to talk,” she mumbled, trying to look away.

But he stepped closer, eyes locked on hers, smirk playing on his lips. “Say that again, angel. I liked how that sounded.”

She scurried off, cheeks burning.

It only got worse after that.

Every time they crossed paths—Jaehyun alone in the hallway, shirtless in the kitchen, sprawled on the couch with that stupid smug smile—he’d say something.

“You know your skirt’s riding up, right?”

“Careful looking at me like that, baby. Someone might think you want something.”

“You keep biting your lip like that and I’m gonna start wondering what else that mouth’s good for.”

Each time, her throat dried, her heart raced, and her body responded way too fast.

But Jaehyun never touched her. Never crossed the line. He'd crowd her into a wall, whisper things into her ear, and back off with a lazy wink—just enough to ruin her for the rest of the day.

And she kept letting him. Kept loving it.

The Party

She wasn’t even supposed to be going. Johnny had said it was mostly older friends, college guys, exes—“boring,” he’d told her.

But when she heard Jaehyun would be there, Y/N made a choice.

A tight black dress. Strapless. Short. Paired with heels and gloss and a teasing perfume she hoped he’d notice. The moment she walked into the apartment, she saw the way heads turned—and more importantly, she felt his eyes on her.

Jaehyun was leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, laughing with someone. But the second he saw her, his jaw went slack. His gaze dragged over her—slow, dark, deliberate.

And he didn’t look away.

He didn’t approach her all night. He didn’t say anything. But she felt him everywhere—watching, pacing like a predator, drinking her in from across the room.

And finally, when she slipped into the kitchen for air, he followed.

“You wore that dress for me.”

Y/N spun around. Jaehyun stood in the doorway, shirt open at the collar, hair wild like he’d run his hand through it too many times. His voice was low, rough, already half-wrecked with frustration.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she whispered, clutching her cup.

He stalked closer. “You knew I’d be here. You knew what that dress would do to me.”

“I didn’t think you’d even notice.”

“Bullshit.” His eyes dragged down her body again. “You wanted me to notice. You want me to look at you and forget all the reasons I shouldn’t bend you over this counter right now.”

She swallowed, heart hammering. “We’re not doing this.”

His jaw ticked. “You think I want to want you?” He stepped closer. “You think this is easy for me? Knowing every inch of you is off-limits? Knowing I can’t fucking touch you because your brother would bury me alive?”

Y/N gasped as his hand flattened on the counter beside her hip, boxing her in without touching.

“You walk around like you don’t know what you’re doing,” Jaehyun growled. “Like you don’t see how I stare at your legs. Your lips. How I can’t stop thinking about the sounds you’d make if I had my mouth between your thighs.”

“Stop,” she whispered.

“Why?” His face was inches from hers now, voice ragged. “Because if I say one more filthy thing, you’re gonna let me pull that dress up and show you exactly how long I’ve been waiting to fuck you?”

“Jaehyun—”

“You want me to stop?” he asked, chest rising and falling fast. “Say it. Say you don’t think about it too. Say you haven’t imagined me fucking you so hard you forget your own name.”

She couldn’t speak. Her body was shaking.

But then she whispered, “We can’t…”

His forehead touched hers for a second, hot and desperate.

“I know we can’t,” he breathed. “But don’t lie to me, baby. Don’t lie to yourself.”

A pause. Their lips almost brushed. So close it hurt.

“I want you,” she admitted, barely audible. “So fucking bad.”

He let out a rough, broken sound—half a groan, half a curse—and stepped back like it physically hurt to leave her.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me too.”

Another beat of silence. Then he looked her over one last time, hunger still sharp in his eyes.

“This tension’s gonna kill us.”

She nodded. “I know.”

They didn’t kiss. They didn’t touch.

They just stood there, burning alive, trying not to destroy everything.

Later that night...

Jaehyun hadn’t moved in twenty minutes.

He leaned back in a chair on the balcony, nursing the same drink while the rest of the guys hollered over some drinking game inside. His jaw was tight. His eyes tracked every shadow that passed near the kitchen—her. He hadn’t seen Y/N since she slipped out, cheeks flushed and lips parted like she wanted him to ruin her right there.

And fuck, he wanted to.

But he couldn’t.

“Bro,” one of the guys nudged him. “You good?”

“Hm?” Jaehyun looked up.

“You haven’t flirted with anyone all night. Usually by now you’re halfway into someone’s pants.”

Jaehyun gave a lazy smirk. “Guess I’m just not in the mood.”

But his voice lacked its usual cocky bite. His mind was still in that kitchen—her body inches from his, breath catching when he told her how much he wanted her.

“Not like you,” the guy muttered, squinting at him. “You’re not sulking over a girl, are you?”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Relax.”

But the guy didn’t drop it. “Wait... are you—”

A sudden commotion cut him off.

Shouting. From the front lawn.

Voices raised, sharp. A girl’s voice.

Jaehyun was already standing before the others processed what was happening. He recognized it immediately—her voice. Her angry voice.

By the time he pushed through the door and onto the porch, a small crowd had already formed near the edge of the lawn.

There she was—Y/N, flushed and furious, backing away from some drunk asshole with slick hair and a cocky stance.

“I said no,” she snapped, voice shaking. “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on,” the guy slurred. “You’ve been giving me looks all night.”

Jaehyun didn’t hesitate.

He was down the steps in two strides, pushing through the crowd, voice sharp and deadly.

“She said no. Back the fuck off.”

The guy blinked at him, confused. “Who the hell are you?”

Jaehyun stepped between them, towering over him now. “The last person you want to piss off tonight.”

The guy scoffed, tried to square up—drunk and dumb.

And Jaehyun didn’t give him the chance.

He punched him—clean, hard, right in the face.

The guy hit the ground like a sack of bricks, groaning, hands clutching his nose.

The crowd gasped. Someone laughed. Someone cheered. And Jaehyun just stood there, chest heaving, teeth clenched, fists still curled like he wanted to throw another.

Y/N stared at him, breathless. Eyes wide. Lips parted. She grabbed his hand and he unclenched his fists and gave her a soft look.

Johnny came out seconds later, saw the scene, and rushed over, both of them quickly letting go.

“What the hell happened?”

Jaehyun didn’t even look at him. “Your sister was dealing with some creep who didn’t know what nomeant.”

Johnny looked between the guy on the ground and Y/N—who was visibly shaken—and then back at Jaehyun.

His expression softened.

“Thanks for stepping in, man,” Johnny said, clapping a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Seriously.”

Jaehyun nodded once, barely. “Anytime.”

But he wasn’t thinking about the fight anymore.

He was thinking about the way Y/N looked at him just now—like she wanted to fall into his arms and never come out.

Later That Night – Jaehyun’s Room

It was quiet.

The party had died down. Most people had left. Johnny was still out back finishing drinks with a few stragglers.

Jaehyun lay on his bed, shirt off, muscles tense, replaying that moment over and over. Her voice. The way her eyes had found his. The heat still thrumming in his chest.

Then a soft knock.

He sat up fast. “Yeah?”

The door cracked open. Y/N slipped in.

Short shorts. A thin tank top. No bra. Hair down. Barefoot.

Every nerve in Jaehyun’s body snapped awake.

“I… just wanted to thank you,” she whispered, stepping in and closing the door behind her. “For earlier.”

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his eyes on hers. “He shouldn’t have touched you.”

“I was handling it,” she said, a smile playing on her lips.

“Not fast enough.”

They both laughed softly. The air between them buzzed.

Then she walked closer.

So close.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and she stopped in front of him. Her fingers brushed his knuckles—light, unsure. Then her other hand cupped his cheek, gently, tenderly.

Her lips pressed against his cheek. A soft kiss. A thank-you.

But then she lingered. Just a second too long.

And when she pulled back, their lips brushed.

Soft. Barely-there. But real.

Jaehyun didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Her breath trembled. “Jae…”

Then—

SLAM.

The front door opened. Johnny’s voice echoed through the house.

“Yo! Anyone still awake?”

They froze.

Y/N stepped back quickly, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.

Jaehyun stood too, tension radiating off him in waves.

“We shouldn’t…”

“No,” he agreed, voice tight. “We shouldn’t.”

But their eyes said everything else.

She slipped out of the room a second later, heartbeat still in her throat.

And Jaehyun sat back down, fists clenched in his lap, jaw tight, cursing every goddamn reason he couldn’t have her.

The Next Day

The backyard smelled like grilled meat, sunscreen, and summer sweat. The gang was loud—music playing, beers clinking, people laughing too hard at nothing. Y/N sat on a bench under the umbrella, trying to pretend she was listening to Johnny talk about some dumb lawn game.

But she couldn’t focus. Not with him there.

Jaehyun.

Laid back in a white tank top that clung to his chest, golden skin glowing under the sun, hair pushed back lazily as he nursed a beer. He looked like sin in human form. And every time he glanced at her—every slow drag of his eyes—her thighs pressed tighter together under the table.

He hadn’t said a word to her all afternoon.

Not a single filthy whisper. Not a single cocky smirk.

Which made her want it more.

And he knew it.

Later, she slipped inside to grab napkins from the kitchen—and the second the screen door shut behind her, she felt it.

His presence.

She turned, startled, just as Jaehyun’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down the hallway.

“Jae—what are you—”

“Shhh,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. No one noticed.

And then they were in the narrow hallway, alone, hidden from the windows.

He backed her into the wall—crowding her in. One hand on the wall beside her head, the other gripping her chin, thumb grazing her lower lip.

“Wearing those little shorts again,” he murmured, voice low and deadly. “Trying to make me lose my mind in front of all our friends?”

Y/N couldn’t breathe.

“You haven’t even looked at me all day,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened. “Because if I looked at you too long, I’d drag you inside and make you scream my name.”

Her knees buckled.

“You want that, don’t you?” he murmured, leaning closer—his breath hot on her ear. “You want me to take you right here. Up against this wall. My hand over your mouth so they don’t hear you moan.”

Y/N whimpered.

Jaehyun groaned, deep in his throat. “You’d be so fucking loud for me.”

Before she could stop herself, her hands slid up his chest. Her thighs pressed together. And then she ground herself on his leg—slow, needy, shameless.

“Fuck, baby…” he hissed, thigh flexing under her. “You’re dripping for me, aren’t you?”

Her fingers gripped his shirt. Her hips kept moving, grinding up the length of his thigh like she couldn’t help herself.

His forehead touched hers. Their lips brushed.

Barely.

She let out a breathy, desperate moan straight into his mouth.

And Jaehyun snapped.

Not all the way.

But enough to shove his hand over her mouth, breathing hard as he held her there, both of them trembling.

“Stop,” he panted. “Y/N, stop—fuck—”

She slowed.

But she didn’t back away. Her eyes were glassy. Her cheeks flushed. Her body buzzed with the tension still thick between them.

He leaned in, whispering against her ear again, voice wrecked. “You do that again and I won’t stop next time.”

A beat passed. Her thighs clenched.

Then—voices.

“Where’s Y/N?” “Didn’t she go inside?” “Yo, Jae! You seen her?”

They froze.

Jaehyun exhaled sharply, composed himself. Dropped his hand from her mouth. Straightened his shirt. Ran a hand through his hair.

Y/N looked equally wrecked.

They took a breath.

And then they walked out together—calm, casual, like nothing had happened.

“Oh,” Jaehyun said easily, slinging an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “She spilled juice in the kitchen. We were cleaning it up.”

Johnny blinked. “You cleaned a spill?”

Jaehyun smiled lazily. “What can I say? I’m helpful.”

Y/N laughed—too high-pitched. “So helpful.”

And no one questioned it.

But under the table, Jaehyun’s hand brushed her thigh. Just once.

A silent promise.

When they had a moment alone later Jaehyun thought it over. They can't keep going like this. He was too attracted to her and it wouldn't end well. Even a little bit isn't enough. He had to cut her off.

"We can't be friends." Jae said guiltily when they were alone.

"What?" Y/n looked in shock.

"I can't be your friend. Because I'll never think of you or see you as my friend. And every time we have a normal interaction I'm just thinking about everything I wanna do to you and how your brother would kill me if he found out."

Y/n scoffed offended. "You don't even wanna be friends? That's a lame excuse Jae, even from you. But fine. You got it, we're no longer friends."

Over the next few days tensions grew with their constant bickering and y/n wearing more revealing clothing around the house.

It started with another fight.

Jaehyun had been moody all day—gruff responses, tense jaw, barely speaking to anyone. Y/N finally snapped after he gave her yet another cold stare when she passed him in the hallway.

“What the hell is your problem?” she hissed, arms crossed tight.

“You,” he bit out. “You’re my fucking problem.”

Her heart stuttered.

“You don’t want me. You don’t want to be friends. So what do you want from me, Jaehyun? We both live in this house so suck it up.”

“I want to stop thinking about you every time you breathe in the same damn room!” His voice cracked. “I can’t—fuck—I can’t pretend this is normal. I can’t act like I’m not dying to touch you every second.”

Y/N stared at him, chest heaving. Her cheeks burned with anger and something else. “Fine,” she snapped, voice cold. “You don’t want to deal with me? Then don’t.”

That night, she went on a date with someone else.

Later That Night

The restaurant was awful. The guy was worse. He talked over her, laughed at nothing, stared at her chest the entire time.

And when he leaned in, trying to kiss her outside by her Uber, she shoved him away and ran.

Tears burned in her eyes as she called the only person she knew would come.

“Jae…” she whispered when he answered. “Can you… can you pick me up?”

He didn’t hesitate. He picked her up and drove her back to their place, the car ride thick with silence.

It was pouring.

The sky cracked open above them, rain spilling like it had been waiting for this moment—just like them.

Y/N got out of the car and stood at the edge of the driveway, soaked and seething, arms crossed under her chest as thunder rolled in the distance. Her white tank clung to her breasts like second skin, completely see-through, nipples clearly visible. Her tiny denim skirt was soaked and hitched up high, the hot pink waistband of her panties teasing just above the fabric.

And Jaehyun—black shirt plastered to his chest, cargo pants hugging his hips, tattoos glistening in the storm—stood there with his jaw clenched, looking like he was on the verge of tearing something apart.

He was.

“What the hell are you doing calling me?” he snapped, stepping into the rain. “Didn’t you run off to your perfect little date?”

She spun around, drenched hair whipping over her shoulder. “Don’t start.”

“Don’t fucking start?” His laugh was humorless. “You go out, dressed like that, trying to pretend I don’t exist, then cry for me to come save you like I’m still the good guy?”

“I called you because it's your fucking fault I went on that date in the first place. I didn’t know who else to—!”

“No,” he growled, stepping closer, “you called me because even when you’re pissed at me, you still want me.”

Her breath caught.

Jaehyun's eyes dragged down her body, tongue darting out over his bottom lip. “You really think I didn’t notice that tiny little skirt, that wet tank, those bright fucking panties begging to be pulled down?”

Her eyes widened, but he wasn’t done.

“You walk around dripping wet, tits out, skirt barely covering your ass—and I’m supposed to keep pretending I don’t want to bend you over every surface I see?”

Y/N’s lips parted in shock.

“You think I haven’t pictured it?” he hissed. “Your legs spread in my backseat, you wrapped around me while my tongue is down your throat? Or your mouth gagged on my cock, crying while I throat fuck every thought of every other guy out of your head?”

Her knees buckled slightly. He saw it—and grinned. Dark. Filthy.

She shoved at his chest. “You're such a—”

But he grabbed her.

Fisted her skirt and panties, yanking her flush against him. Her gasp was swallowed by the sound of rain, her breath catching when she felt how hard he was through his pants.

“I’ve had enough of pretending,” he rasped. His lips brushed hers. “I’m fucking done.”

Then his voice dropped, hot and filthy against her mouth:

“Fuck it.”

And then he took her mouth.

----------------

Wanna read the rest (smut + happy ending)? Subscribe to my NCT Patreon here or read the FULL story here.

[jikookncity]

hello my dear fav writer! can u explain to me how patreon works?

i joined ur patreon but i wanted to ask if i buy the fic only without subscribing monthly, will it eventually get locked and i won’t be able to read it anytime i want? cause i wanna reread them whenever i want :<

hi there! I believe if you buy a fic you have access to it whenever you want through the account you bought it from, you will not need to pay again to access it. so yes, you can re-read whenever you want!

[jikookncity]

Donghyuck x Reader (Exes to Lovers)

Y/n meets her best friends new boyfriend...too bad it turns out to be her own ex boyfriend, the one and only Lee Donghyuck. 

WC: 14k 

Warnings: Unprotected sex, teasing!donghyuck, angst + fluff (happy ending) 

----------------

The airport buzzed with laughter, the kind that only comes from people who’ve been waiting for this trip for months. Someone was already talking about which beaches to hit first, someone else about the rooftop bars and the boat parties.

Y/N rolled her suitcase toward the group, sunglasses perched on her head, linen shirt fluttering in the breeze sneaking through the open doors. Greece smelled like salt and sunscreen and something close to freedom. She smiled to herself — she needed this. A week away from work, from routine, from anything that reminded her of him.

“Okay, everyone’s here!” Lina chirped, her excitement contagious. She was practically vibrating as she checked her phone again. “He’s outside waiting for us!”

“He?” Mark teased, grinning as he bumped her shoulder. “The mysterious boyfriend you’ve been hiding from us?”

Lina only giggled, cheeks pink. “You’ll see.”

Y/N smirked, tugging her tote higher on her shoulder. “Finally, we get to meet the man who stole our girl.”

Lina laughed again but didn’t answer — she was already darting toward the sliding glass doors, suitcase rolling behind her. The rest of them followed, still joking, still unaware that the air was about to shift.

And it did. The second Y/N stepped into the sun and saw him.

Her heart stopped.

Then dropped.

Donghyuck.

He stood near a white rental van, tan skin glowing against a loose white button-up, sleeves rolled to his forearms, hair darker and messier than she remembered. Two years had passed, but God — he still looked like every memory she tried to forget. The same smirk shape to his lips, though right now it was gone, replaced by wide eyes as Lina sprinted into his arms.

“Oh my god, baby!” Lina squealed, jumping on him. He caught her easily, laughing softly — and then his gaze lifted.

Straight to Y/N.

It was like the world tilted. For a second, he just stilled, arms still around Lina, every muscle in his body locking up. His smile faded, replaced by shock — and something else. Something that looked too close to ache.

Y/N’s lungs burned.

No one knew. Not a single person in this group had any idea.

She’d dated him for three years. Three years of coffee runs, road trips, late-night fights, and mornings where she thought they’d last forever. Three years of love and chaos and him calling her his whole damn world — until they weren’t.

And now… he was Lina’s boyfriend.

Lina turned toward the group, still holding onto his arm. “Everyone, this is Hyuck!” she beamed. “Hyuck, this is everyone — Mark, Jaemin, Jeno, Y/N—”

Y/N.

The sound of her name broke something open in the air.

Donghyuck’s throat bobbed. For a second, he didn’t move — didn’t breathe. Then, as if forcing himself, he extended a hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, voice rougher than she remembered.

Y/N’s fingers trembled as she reached for his. Her pulse thundered against her ribs, her smile too bright, too sharp. “Nice to meet you too.”

Their hands met. Skin on skin.

And it hit them both — that familiar spark, the kind that used to feel like home.

She pulled back instantly, almost like it burned.

Jaemin, ever the oblivious peacekeeper, threw an arm around her shoulders, grinning wide. “This trip’s gonna be fun, huh?”

Y/N forced a laugh, but her eyes flicked one last time to Donghyuck. He was still staring.

And from the way his jaw clenched — she knew.

He wasn’t ready for this either.

The summer heat hit like a furnace the second they stepped outside. The van was a toaster in the sun, the air thick with sunscreen and the smell of blooming olive trees.

Hyuck rolled up his sleeves, helping Mark and Jaemin load bags into the trunk, his movements quick and practiced. He was talking — laughing, even — but his voice didn’t sound like him. Not really.

Y/N tried to lift her own suitcase, but before she could swing it up, Hyuck was there.

“I got it,” he said quietly.

“It’s fine, I can—”

“I said I got it.”

Their fingers brushed when he took the handle from her. Her breath hitched, and for a heartbeat, they both froze — the air between them humming with something too familiar. Then he looked away, sliding the suitcase into the van like it was nothing.

She swallowed hard. “Thanks.”

His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t answer.

Lina appeared a second later, throwing her arms around him from behind. “You’re so helpful baby,” she giggled.

He smiled — or tried to. But it was stiff, his body not quite moving with hers. Y/N saw the faraway look in his eyes before he blinked it away, nodding absently as Lina kissed his shoulder.

“Alright, everyone in!” Mark called out, already climbing into the front passenger seat.

Y/N slipped into the van, settling into the second row by the window. She closed her eyes, pressing her hand to her forehead, trying to breathe. The hum of conversation blurred around her — Jaemin cracking a joke, Jeno teasing Mark about his playlist, Lina’s laugh cutting through everything.

She didn’t open her eyes again, even when she felt it — his gaze. Through the rearview mirror, Hyuck’s eyes found her reflection. He lingered there, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel, the curve of his mouth unreadable.

He shouldn’t have looked. But he couldn’t not.

For almost two hours, the van rolled through winding roads, golden hills fading into lush countryside. The group sang, argued over snacks, pointed out random goats. Y/N stayed quiet, pretending to nap while her mind screamed.

Her ex — her college boyfriend, her first love — was Lina’s boyfriend.

And now she was stuck with him in Greece. For the summer.

--------------------

They finally reached it — a sun-drenched villa perched above a lake so blue it looked unreal. The tiny town nearby shimmered in the distance, roofs terracotta against endless sky.

Everyone tumbled out of the van, immediately gasping and cheering.

“Holy crap, Hyuck, this place is insane!” Jeno said, spinning in a slow circle.

“Your cousin’s rich rich,” Mark added, eyes wide as he took in the white stucco walls and blooming bougainvillea.

Hyuck just smiled faintly. “Yeah. He said we could use it for the summer, so… make yourselves at home.”

He began unloading the bags, one by one — including hers. He didn’t ask where it went; somehow, he remembered she always preferred rooms with a view. When he carried her luggage upstairs, the large window overlooking the lake glowed gold with sunset.

She turned, startled, as he set it down gently by the bed.

“Thanks,” she said again, softer this time.

He nodded, eyes flicking around the room once before stepping back. “You got the best view,” he murmured.

“I guess being the only girl other than Lina has its perks.”

Downstairs, the boys groaned in protest when they saw the layout.

“Wait, wait, wait— Y/N gets her own room?” Jaemin complained.

Jeno threw an arm over her shoulder dramatically. “Unfair. I’m calling it now — I’m sneaking in tonight and stealing her bed.”

Everyone laughed, even Y/N, nudging him off with a grin.

Everyone except Hyuck.

He stood by the door, one hand still gripping his water bottle, eyes on Jeno’s arm draped casually over her shoulders. His jaw worked once, then he looked away quickly, forcing a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Alright,” he said, his voice steady. “Everyone settle in. We’ll unpack, grab dinner in town later. Just… relax.”

Y/N nodded absently, watching him disappear down the hall with Lina clinging to his arm.

The sunset glowed across the lake, and for a moment, she thought about how it used to feel — him carrying her bags into their shared dorm after long trips, him brushing her hair out of her face, him smiling like she was the only one he saw.

Now he wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

---------------

The villa was quiet by the time the sun began to set. Someone had drawn the curtains in the living room, soft snores coming from Mark and Jaemin tangled on the couch.

Jeno was asleep half-sitting against the wall, and Lina had curled into Hyuck’s side upstairs, mumbling something about “just ten minutes” before drifting off completely.

But Y/N couldn’t sleep.

She’d tried — closed her eyes, turned on her side, even counted waves lapping against the shore — but her mind wouldn’t quiet. It kept circling back to the way he’d looked at her earlier, the brief, stunned silence between them, the ache she’d felt all over again.

When the sky turned the color of honey and flame, she gave up and slipped outside.

The air was cooler now, brushing against her skin as she walked down the path toward the lake. The water shimmered like glass, the surface catching the sunset in ripples. She found a small bench near the dock and sat down, exhaling slowly.

It was beautiful. And it hurt.

She stared at the reflection of the sky on the lake until she heard it — quiet footsteps crunching against the gravel.

Her chest tightened before she even turned.

Donghyuck.

He looked different in the fading light — softer somehow, hair tousled, the collar of his shirt undone. He stopped beside the bench, hesitating for a beat before speaking.

“Can I sit?”

She nodded wordlessly.

He lowered himself beside her, a careful space between them, hands clasped loosely in his lap. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The cicadas hummed, the sun dipped lower, and the world felt suspended — like the universe was holding its breath.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Can we talk?”

Y/N turned to him, eyes cautious. “Yeah.”

He exhaled, shoulders relaxing slightly. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he started quietly. “Lina didn’t tell me who her friends were. And when I saw you at the airport, I—” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching humorlessly. “I thought I was dreaming.”

She nodded slowly. “I had no idea either. Lina never said a name, just that she had a boyfriend she wanted me to meet.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s what I figured.”

Silence again — heavy but not hostile.

Then, with a low sigh, he added, “For what it’s worth… I never would’ve even looked her way if I knew she was your best friend.” His voice softened, guilt threaded through every word. “I never wanted things to get this messy or complicated.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She looked down at her hands, twisting her ring. “That means a lot,” she said softly. Then, forcing a small smile, she added, “And… I’m happy for you. Really. Lina’s great.”

Hyuck’s lips pressed into a straight line. He didn’t say thank you, didn’t agree — just stared out at the lake, his expression unreadable.

After a long moment, he asked quietly, “Are you seeing anyone?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “No. Not at the moment.”

He nodded, eyes still fixed on the horizon.

They talked a little after that. About work, about mutual friends, about how he’d moved cities for a while before coming back. It felt strange — familiar and foreign all at once. He still laughed the same, still tilted his head when he listened. But every time their eyes met, she felt that same sharp pull in her chest.

When their conversation finally slowed, Hyuck leaned back slightly, exhaling. “It’s been a long time,” he said quietly. “I know we had… hurt feelings back then. But maybe we could try to be...friends? Or at least friendly?”

Y/N hesitated.

Friends.

She didn’t want that. Didn’t know how to sit across from him, to pretend the years they spent loving each other meant nothing. But she also saw Lina’s smile in her mind — her best friend, happy and unsuspecting — and she couldn’t bring herself to say no.

So she nodded. “Sure,” she said softly. “For Lina.”

He looked at her, relief flickering across his face. “Alright.”

The air settled again. Neither of them moved. The lake rippled gently under the last of the sun, painting their reflections in gold.

And there they sat — side by side, quiet, pretending that “alright” didn’t hurt as much as it did.

---------------

By the time everyone woke up, night had crept softly over the lake. The villa glowed with warm light, the scent of roasted herbs and olive oil drifting through the open windows.

“Hyuck!” Mark called as he walked into the kitchen. “Dude, what is that smell? I’m starving.”

Hyuck looked up from the stove, a faint smile curving his lips. “Just something simple for the first night,” he said, brushing his hands on a towel. “Thought we’d start with Greek food—chicken souvlaki, lemon potatoes, tzatziki, all that.”

“Simple, he says,” Jaemin teased, peeking over his shoulder. “Looks like a five-star meal, chef.”

Lina wrapped her arms around Hyuck from behind, beaming. “You’re amazing,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. “It smells incredible.”

He smiled faintly, murmured a quiet thanks—but the moment her lips left his skin, his gaze drifted. Straight to Y/N.

She froze for a heartbeat, pretending not to notice, then quickly busied herself helping Jeno set the table.

When everyone finally sat down outside under the string lights, the lake glimmering below, it almost felt perfect. The night hummed with cicadas, the air warm, laughter easy.

Hyuck placed the last dish in the center, the golden chicken steaming in the cool breeze. “Dig in,” he said, sitting beside Lina, who immediately piled food onto his plate.

Y/N took a piece of the chicken, forcing herself to act normal, to breathe, to smile. But the moment the first bite hit her tongue, everything inside her went still.

The flavor—lemon, garlic, rosemary—was his. The same seasoning. The same faint char. The same warmth.

And suddenly, she wasn’t sitting by the lake anymore.

-----------------

College apartment. Tiny kitchen. Smoke everywhere.

“Hyuck! Oh my God, you’re going to set off the alarm!”

“It’s fine! It’s fine—wait, okay, maybe not fine—”

The smoke detector blared to life, high-pitched and shrill. Y/N panicked, waving a towel frantically. “Open a window!”

Hyuck coughed, laughing helplessly as smoke billowed out of the pan. “I swear I followed the recipe—”

“Hyuck, it’s burning!”

She rushed forward, grabbing the pan with oven mitts and shoving it under running water. It hissed and spat, steam rising everywhere.

He was still laughing, leaning against the counter. “We’re a disaster.”

“You’re a disaster,” she shot back, but she was laughing too now, cheeks flushed.

He stepped closer, eyes softening as the noise died down. “You love it though.”

Before she could reply, his hands slid around her waist, pulling her close. He kissed her—deep, slow, tasting like smoke and laughter.

“Maybe we should just order food,” he murmured against her lips.

“Yeah,” she giggled, tugging him in again. “We should.”

----------------

The sound of Jaemin’s voice snapped her back to the present. “Y/N?”

She blinked, choking slightly on her bite. “What?”

“You okay? You looked like you were about to die.”

“Yeah,” she rasped, grabbing her glass and taking a long drink of water, trying to drown the rush of memory. “Just… went down the wrong way.”

Jaemin chuckled, leaning closer. “Careful, or we’ll have to perform the Heimlich.”

She smiled weakly, and before she could reach for her napkin, he was already brushing his thumb over the corner of her lips. “You got sauce,” he said, grinning.

“Thanks,” she murmured, cheeks heating.

Neither of them noticed the way Hyuck’s eyes snapped to them. The way his jaw tightened just slightly.

He looked away a second later, laughing at something Jeno said, pouring Lina more wine. But his movements were a little too controlled, his smile a little too smooth.

Around the table, the night melted into easy conversation. Mark and Jaemin argued about who’d get the biggest bed, Jeno and Hyuck traded music recommendations, Lina rested her head on Hyuck’s shoulder, giggling softly.

And Y/N? She smiled. Laughed when they did. Pretended her chest didn’t ache.

Hyuck fit in perfectly—like nothing was out of place. But every now and then, when the light caught him just right, she’d see it. The same distant look from earlier. The one that said he was somewhere else entirely.

Probably with her. Just like she was still somewhere with him.

--------------

The villa slept under a blanket of moonlight. The laughter from dinner had long faded; the only sounds left were the steady hum of crickets and the faint splash of water against the dock.

But Y/N couldn’t sleep.

She’d been lying there for what felt like hours, the sheets twisted around her legs, the ceiling a blur above her. Her heart wouldn’t calm down — not after the way he’d looked at her, not after the way the food had brought everything back.

It was only the first day, and she already felt unravelled.

Finally, she gave up. Slipping into a cardigan, she padded barefoot through the quiet halls and out onto the patio. The night air was cool, the scent of pine and lake water sharp in her lungs. The moon hung huge above the hills, its reflection trembling across the dark water.

She almost felt calm — until she saw him.

A shadow near the railing, faint orange light flickering in the dark. Smoke curled up into the night, slow and lazy, catching the moonlight.

Her breath caught.

“Hyuck?”

He startled slightly, eyes still half-closed as he exhaled another stream of smoke. When he turned toward her, his expression softened, just a flicker.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, stepping closer. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.” Her gaze dropped to the cigarette between his fingers. “...I also didn’t know that you smoke now.”

He gave a small, tired laugh. “Yeah. Nobody does. Especially not Lina.”

She raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know?”

He shook his head. “She’d hate it if she found out I started again.” He flicked the ash into a tray, glancing at her. “Do me a favor and keep this between us?”

Something bitter twisted in her chest. “Another secret to keep from her. Great.”

His eyes lifted to hers, sharp this time, really looking at her. Up and down. “Don’t start with me,” he muttered. “I can deal with my stress however I want.”

“Yeah,” she said flatly. “You can do whatever you want. That’s what you do all the time anyway.”

That hit him. He scoffed, exhaling hard through his nose. “Still as judgey as ever, huh?”

“Still as defensive as ever,” she shot back. “I just forgot how you always manage to make everything about you.”

“Funny,” he said, turning toward her fully now. “You’re the one who came out here to pick a fight.”

“I came out here for air,” she snapped. “Didn’t realize I’d be breathing in your bad habits too.”

“Wow,” he laughed without humor, flicking the cigarette away. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you.”

The words hung there, cold and heavy, the silence after them sharper than any yell could’ve been.

And then — too quietly, too carelessly — he said it. “Well, I’m not the one who ended the relationship.”

The air shifted.

Her throat closed up instantly, tears burning behind her eyes before she could even blink.

His face fell the second he saw them. “No, no, hey—” He stepped closer, panic flashing across his face. “I didn’t mean that, Y/N, I swear—don’t cry—”

She shook her head, stepping back quickly, voice trembling. “You know exactly why I did it. And you know it wasn’t my fault.”

“Y/N—”

But she was already turning, her tears spilling hot and fast down her cheeks. She ran inside, the screen door slamming shut behind her, footsteps echoing up the stairs. Her bedroom door clicked a second later.

Outside, Hyuck stood frozen.

He ran a hand through his hair, his heartbeat loud in the quiet. He picked up the half-burned cigarette, staring at the glowing tip before bringing it to his lips again. The smoke curled upward, dissolving into the stars.

“Two years,” he whispered to no one.

He blinked hard, but it didn’t help. The sting behind his eyes stayed.

Some wounds just never learn to fade.

The villa was still quiet when Y/N stirred before dawn. Sleep hadn’t come easy; her mind wouldn’t stop replaying his words, his expression, the way his voice had cracked at the end. She turned over in her bed again and again before finally slipping out, padding barefoot down the hallway to the room Jaemin and Jeno shared.

They were both heavy sleepers. She hesitated at first, then quietly lifted the blanket and crawled in between them, sighing softly at the warmth. Jaemin stirred, blinking blearily. “Y/N…? Is that you?” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

She nodded, whispering, “Sorry to wake you. My room just… feels too big tonight.”

Jaemin didn’t even hesitate. He opened his arms, and she fit herself against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth was grounding, familiar. Her heart slowed. He rubbed her back lazily, half-asleep. “You okay?” he mumbled.

She nodded against him. “Better now that I’m here with you.”

“Good,” he whispered, pressing his chin lightly to the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”

They both drifted off like that, the sound of the sea outside the open window steady and calm.

When the knock came an hour later, it was soft at first, then louder. Jeno groaned, rolling over. Jaemin blinked awake just as the door creaked open and Lina’s bright voice filled the room.

“Guys—oh my god,” she gasped, then pouted dramatically. “You had a sleepover without me? No fair!”

Y/N blinked awake, still groggy, her cheek pressed against Jaemin’s chest. She laughed softly at Lina’s expression. “Come here, then,” she said, opening her arms. Lina didn’t need to be told twice — she crawled onto the bed, nestling beside Y/N, who hugged her close with a sleepy grin.

Across the room, Jeno sat up, yawning, rubbing the back of his neck before getting out of bed. 

And that’s when Hyuck’s voice came from the doorway — low, uncertain. “Morning.”

Lina smiled at him. “Morning! Look at them, they kicked me out of the cuddle party last night,” she teased, motioning toward Y/N and Jaemin’s messy bed.

Hyuck’s eyes flicked to Y/N before he could stop himself — her tousled hair, her sleepy smile, the way she was still half in Jaemin’s arms. Something sharp and uncomfortable twisted in his chest. He forced a small smile and said, “Guess I missed the invite.”

Lina laughed, saying something about breakfast, already tugging Y/N up. Y/N rubbed her eyes, trying not to meet Hyuck’s gaze as she stretched.

But Hyuck’s mind was somewhere else entirely.

Are they dating? Does he like her? Does she like him?

He shook his head hard, trying to dismiss it. It wasn’t his business anymore.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Breakfast was loud and cheerful — plates clinking, laughter echoing through the villa, Lina trying to feed Hyuck a piece of fruit while he pretended to protest. Y/N smiled along, but the pit in her stomach only grew heavier with every laugh.

She couldn’t do this anymore. The secret was pressing against her ribs like it wanted to claw its way out.

When Jaemin caught her gnawing at her nails, he frowned. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah—yeah, I just… need some air. Come for a walk with me?”

Jaemin’s eyes softened immediately. “Sure.”

Jeno, halfway through a mouthful of eggs, looked up. “Wait, can I come?”

Y/N smiled at him. “After you finish eating, okay?”

He grinned, determined, and took a comically huge bite that made Jaemin snort as they headed out.

The sun was high now, glimmering off the lake like a thousand tiny stars. They walked quietly for a while, Y/N kicking at the pebbles, Jaemin watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Alright,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”

Y/N froze. For a long moment, she said nothing. Her throat was tight, words stuck like they were afraid to come out.

“I…” she started, then stopped. “Promise you won’t freak out.”

Jaemin arched a brow. “Y/N.”

She sighed, closing her eyes before blurting it out — the history, the breakup, the way Hyuck used to look at her, and the way it all fell apart. The tears she’d tried to bury in two years’ worth of pretending.

When she finished, Jaemin was silent, just staring at her with wide eyes. “Wait, wait—hold on. So Lina has no idea about your history with him?”

Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head. “None.”

He blinked, running a hand through his hair. “And… I have to ask—do you still have feelings for him?”

Y/N’s reaction was instant. “What? No! Of course not.”

Jaemin didn’t say anything. He just gave her a look — soft, but knowing. Like he could see right through her.

She turned away, blinking fast.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he said quietly, kicking at the dirt. “This is… I mean—you should tell Lina. Just be honest. She’ll understand.”

Y/N shook her head fiercely. “No. I can’t. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Not telling her will hurt her more,” Jaemin said gently but firmly. “She’s your best friend. She’ll find out eventually, and it’ll be worse if it’s not from you.”

Her lip trembled. “Jaem…”

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her before she could say another word. “Hey. It’ll be okay. None of this is your fault, okay? And Lina will know that.”

Y/N let herself sink into his chest, eyes squeezed shut, tears dampening his shirt.

They stayed like that until footsteps approached. Jeno came jogging over, slightly out of breath. “Okay, I’m here—what did I miss?” he said, before noticing Y/N’s red eyes. “Oh. Crying? Who made my girl cry?”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “Relax, hero. We’re fine.”

But Jeno just slung an arm around both of them, pulling them close. “Hey, you don’t need to cry. You’ve got me and this emotional support tree,” he said, patting Jaemin’s chest.

Y/N couldn’t help it—she laughed, muffled and wet, smacking his arm.

“I love you guys so much,” she said softly, hugging them both.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeno teased, squeezing her. “We love you too. Now let’s go before Jaem starts crying too.”

“Hey—”

They walked back toward the villa with the sunlight on their backs, Y/N’s heart still heavy, but a little steadier.

------------------

The morning sun was soft and golden, the kind that made everything look like it belonged in a travel ad. The gang piled into the van after breakfast, buzzing with plans to explore the nearby town.

Jaemin had his camera slung around his neck, his excitement palpable. “Alright, everyone, I’m going full tourist mode today,” he declared. “Y/N, you’re my model. Come on, give me something.”

Y/N laughed, brushing hair from her face before striking a few ridiculous poses — peace signs, fake runway struts, pretending to hold the sun in her hand.

Jaemin laughed so hard he could barely hold the camera steady. “Okay, okay, that’s enough—actually, no, one more. Jeno, get in there!”

“Gladly,” Jeno said, jogging over and wrapping his arms around Y/N’s shoulders from behind. She squealed, laughing as Jaemin snapped a photo. The camera clicked a few times — the two of them mid-laugh, heads thrown back, sunlight haloing their faces.

They looked like a couple. Effortless. Happy.

Donghyuck’s jaw clenched so hard he thought he might crack a tooth.

He was standing off to the side, holding Lina’s phone as she scrolled through filters. “Can you take a few pictures of me?” she asked sweetly, handing it over.

“Yeah,” he murmured, barely glancing up from where Jeno was playfully tickling Y/N. His grip on the phone tightened.

Lina tilted her head. “You okay?”

He blinked, forcing a smile as if nothing had cracked in his chest. “Yeah, just—distracted. Sorry.”

She smiled softly, brushing it off. He held the phone up and snapped a few pictures, making her laugh with a silly grin before they took a selfie together — Lina kissing his cheek, him forcing an easy smile he didn’t feel.

But his eyes still flickered, just for a second, toward the sound of Y/N’s laughter echoing across the square.

They reached a hiking trail that wound up to a lookout point. The group spread out a little — Jaemin taking landscape shots, Jeno pointing out random wildflowers, Lina and Mark walking ahead.

Y/N walked close to Jeno, half to talk and half to avoid tripping on the rocky ground. She hated how clumsy she got in sandals.

“Careful,” Jeno warned, steadying her when she stumbled slightly.

She giggled. “See? You know me too well.”

Hyuck, walking just behind them, shoved his hands into his pockets. Every laugh between them twisted like a knife.

A few minutes later, as they crossed a narrow section of the path, Y/N’s foot slipped against loose gravel. She gasped, her arms flailing—

—and a pair of warm, familiar arms caught her.

“I got you,” a low voice murmured, close to her ear.

She froze. Her heart thudded once, hard.

It was the exact same tone, the same words, the same deep whisper he used to say when he’d hold her close in the dark — back when the world had felt smaller, simpler, safe.

Her breath caught, eyes darting up to meet his. Donghyuck’s hand was firm on her waist, his face only inches away, his gaze unreadable but heavy.

For one dizzying heartbeat, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to.

Then reality slammed back in.

“T-thanks,” she stuttered, pulling away quickly. Her skin still burned where he’d touched her.

Jeno turned around, frowning. “You okay?”

Y/N smiled too quickly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

But she wasn’t.

Because for the first time in two years, it felt like the ground was slipping beneath her feet — and this time, no one could really catch her.

The sky was streaked with gold and rose as the sun dipped behind the lake, turning everything soft and unreal. Dinner was easy, familiar — Italian pizzas spread across the table, laughter echoing through the villa.

Jeno and Jaemin disappeared upstairs after eating, already arguing over which game to play first. Mark and Donghyuck lingered by the dining room window, talking quietly over leftover slices, their voices low and easy.

Outside, the evening air was cool. Y/N and Lina sat on the patio overlooking the lake, each with a glass of wine in hand. The breeze carried the faint scent of oregano and pine, the soft hum of cicadas filling the silence.

“This trip’s been so nice, hasn’t it?” Lina said, smiling into her glass. “Exactly what I needed.”

Y/N nodded, her smile small but genuine. “Yeah. It’s beautiful here.”

There was a pause — long enough for Y/N to start relaxing, to think maybe they could keep this bubble unbroken for a little longer — until Lina tilted her head, eyes glinting playfully.

“What do you think of Donghyuck?” she asked.

Y/N froze. The question hung between them like a blade.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Lina said, laughing softly. “You’ve barely talked to him. You don’t… not like him, do you?”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She shook her head too quickly. “No, no, of course not. I just—” She stopped herself, taking a deep breath. Her hands trembled slightly as she set her glass down.

Now or never.

“Lina,” she said quietly. “I need to tell you something. I… wanted to wait until I could actually process it first, but I can’t keep it from you any longer.”

Lina blinked, lowering her glass. “Okay?”

“I had no idea Donghyuck was your boyfriend,” Y/N started, words tumbling out before she could lose her nerve. “But the truth is… I knew him from before. We met back in college.”

Lina exhaled, shoulders relaxing. “Oh,” she said with a small smile, visibly relieved. “That’s it? Did you guys not recognize each other at the airport until now?” She took another sip of wine, laughing lightly.

Y/N looked down. “No, we did. But…” She swallowed hard. “We weren’t just friends, Lina. We were together back then. Like—together together.”

The smile fell from Lina’s face instantly.

Her glass paused midair. “You and Donghyuck?” she said slowly, voice flat. “My boyfriend? You dated him?”

Y/N nodded, forcing herself to meet her eyes. “Yeah.”

Lina blinked a few times, trying to make sense of it. “Wait—I don’t understand. You dated my current boyfriend back in college? And you didn’t tell me until right now?”

Y/N’s chest ached. “I’ve been in shock since I saw him at the airport,” she said softly. “I just needed time to process my own feelings first. But now that I have, I had to tell you. I didn’t want to keep this from you.”

Lina set her wine glass down a little too hard, the sound sharp against the table. “What feelings did you have to process?” she asked, voice trembling now. “Do you still like him? Was it serious? Or did you just—” she swallowed, “—hook up?”

Y/N’s eyes burned, but her voice stayed steady. “We dated for three years,” she said quietly. “So… yeah. I guess it was pretty serious.”

The lake shimmered behind them, reflecting the last light of day — but the silence between them was heavy, unmoving.

Lina stared straight ahead, eyes wide and unfocused. The only sound was the soft clink of ice melting in her glass.

The question hit harder than Y/N expected.

“Well… why did you break up?”

The wine felt thick in her throat. She swallowed hard, staring at the lake as the memory burned its way up from where she’d buried it.

“We just weren’t the right fit,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t what he wanted. And he made that… very clear toward the end.”

Her voice cracked just slightly on clear, but she forced a smile anyway, twisting the stem of her glass between her fingers. “But it doesn’t matter, Lina. He’s with you now — and you’re the one he wants. I can see he loves you a lot. We broke up two years ago. It’s all ancient history.”

Y/N looked up and smiled — a small, trembling curve of her lips that she prayed looked convincing. “It’s all about you guys now. I’m happy for you. Really. I think you make him happy.”

Lina watched her for a long time, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. She exhaled slowly, setting her glass down.

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “This is… still a bit weird, and I’ll need some time to process it. But as long as it’s in the past and you don’t still have feelings for each other, I guess it’s fine. We can all get along.”

Y/N nodded, relief flickering weakly in her chest.

Lina smiled faintly, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “Thanks for being honest. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

Y/N squeezed back, her throat too tight to speak.

When Lina stood, her chair scraped softly against the patio tiles. “I’m gonna go check on Hyuck,” she said lightly, gathering the empty plates.

Y/N stayed where she was, staring out at the lake — the rippling water reflecting the deep indigo sky — until she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her.

Inside, the house was dim and quiet. Donghyuck sat at the edge of the bed, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, when Lina entered.

She smiled tiredly, setting her wine glass down on the nightstand before sitting beside him. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The air was heavy — soft music from the living room muffled through the walls.

“So…” she said finally, brushing hair behind her ear. “Y/N just told me about your history.”

Donghyuck froze mid-scroll, his thumb hovering over the screen. Slowly, he looked up. “She told you?”

“Yeah,” Lina said, watching his expression carefully. “She mentioned you dated in college. She wanted to come clean. Is it not true?”

He blinked, caught between guilt and disbelief. “No—it’s true. I just… didn’t think she’d say anything. Not this soon.”

Lina tilted her head. “Why? Were you planning to tell me yourself?”

He hesitated. “Eventually, maybe. I didn’t want to ruin the trip. Or make things weird between you two.”

“Well,” she said softly, “it’s already weird.”

Donghyuck sighed, setting his phone aside. “I know.”

There was silence again — the kind that filled every corner of the room.

Then Lina asked the question he’d been dreading. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were uncertain.

“Do you still have any feelings for her?”

Donghyuck looked at her. Really looked. The soft lamplight hit her face, highlighting every emotion she was trying to keep contained — confusion, jealousy, maybe even fear.

He opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

“She’s part of my past,” he said finally, careful, quiet. “That’s all.”

But his voice wasn’t as sure as he wanted it to be.

“Why did you break up? Y/N was a bit vague—she didn’t really give me details,” Lina asked softly, tracing the rim of her wine glass.

Donghyuck’s expression hardened just enough to make her pause. “I was young and stupid,” he said after a beat. “I didn’t really know what I wanted. I mean, I knew, but… I don’t know.” He shrugged, forcing a chuckle. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. That’s the past. No point in rehashing it now. I’m with you, and that’s what matters.”

Lina tilted her head, unconvinced. “That’s the same vague answer she gave me, actually.”

His throat tightened.

“So you both broke up because… you weren’t in love anymore?” she asked carefully.

“No,” he said immediately, maybe a little too fast. “It wasn’t about that. We were just—growing in different directions, I guess. But now I know who I am, without her.”

Lina studied him for a moment, then slowly nodded. “I get it. God knows I’ve broken up with people for the same reason.” Her voice softened. “Look, it’s still weird, but I love both of you so much, and I want you to get along. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me. There’s no bad blood, right?”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Right.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed back, briefly, then pulled her into a hug instead—arms tightening around her as if to reassure them both. But as he stared past her shoulder, all he could think about was the look on Y/N’s face when she said we were together back then.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

------------------

The villa was quiet now, everyone finally asleep after a long day. The laughter from dinner, the clinking of glasses and late-night teasing, had faded into a soft, peaceful stillness.

But in one of the rooms, the silence was broken by the sound of a small sneeze. Then another. Then a groan.

“God, this carpet,” Lina muttered, rubbing her nose furiously. “I think I’m allergic or something. It’s making me crazy.”

From beside her, Donghyuck stirred, still half-asleep. “What? Allergic?” he mumbled, voice rough.

“I can’t stop sneezing, Hyuck,” she whined, grabbing a tissue. “I swear it’s the carpet. I feel itchy all over, my throat’s closing up, my nose—” she sniffled miserably.

He sat up, blinking blearily in the dark. “Do you want me to open the window?”

“I tried that,” she said, already getting up. “It’s not helping. I can’t stay here tonight, it’s driving me insane.”

“Where are you going to sleep then?” he asked, confused.

“I’ll crash in Y/N’s room,” she decided, already pulling her blanket and pillow into her arms. “Her room doesn’t have carpet—maybe it’ll help. You stay here, okay?”

“Lina—”

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine. You need your rest. I’ll come back in the morning.”

And just like that, she slipped out the door, the soft patter of her bare feet fading down the hallway.

Donghyuck lay back down, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before sighing. He could still smell her shampoo on the pillow beside him, but without her body next to his, the bed suddenly felt colder.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Y/N had just finished brushing her teeth when Lina appeared in the doorway, sniffling.

“Lina?” Y/N asked, startled.

“Hey, um… sorry to barge in, but can I sleep here tonight? That stupid carpet in our room is making me break out or something. I swear I’m allergic.”

“Oh my god, of course,” Y/N said immediately, stepping aside. “Come in.”

“Thanks, babe.” Lina smiled weakly, tossing her blanket over Y/N’s bed and settling in. “You’re an angel.”

Y/N smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Just get some rest.”

But as Lina snuggled into the sheets and quickly drifted off, Y/N stood there awkwardly, realizing she no longer had anywhere to sleep with her taking up all the space.

Her eyes flicked to the couch in the living room through the open door.

“Perfect,” she whispered dryly to herself.

She grabbed a thin throw blanket and a pillow, padding quietly to the couch. The villa was dim, the only light spilling in from the moon reflecting off the lake. She lay down, curled up under the blanket, and tried to close her eyes.

But her mind wouldn’t quiet. Not after the last few days. Not with him under the same roof again.

She turned on her side, staring out the glass doors toward the faint shimmer of water under moonlight. She tried to focus on her breathing. One, two, three—

The creak of a door broke the silence.

Her heart jumped. She turned, expecting maybe Jaemin sneaking out for a snack—but froze when she saw the silhouette in the hallway.

He stepped into the soft light, and her chest constricted.

Donghyuck.

His hair was mussed, eyes still adjusting to the dimness, and he was holding his phone and a half-crushed cigarette box in one hand. His shirt clung to his frame, the faint scent of smoke still trailing behind him.

When his gaze found her, surprise flickered across his face.

“Y/N?” he said quietly. “Why are you sleeping out here?”

She turned on her back, trying to sound nonchalant. “Lina couldn’t handle the carpet in your room. She said she was allergic, so she’s in mine for the night.”

“Oh.” He blinked, guilt flashing across his features. “Right. She mentioned the dust earlier.”

“So, I’m here,” Y/N added softly, gesturing at the couch.

He frowned. “You should’ve taken my bed. I could’ve slept here.”

She shook her head, pulling the blanket tighter. “It’s fine, Hyuck. Just go to sleep.”

He hesitated. “You sure?”

“I’m fine,” she repeated firmly.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “You always say that,” he murmured.

Her eyes snapped to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looked at her for a long moment, expression unreadable. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and familiar.

He finally sighed and sank down onto the couch across from hers, elbows on his knees. “I couldn’t sleep either,” he admitted after a pause. “Guess we’re both restless.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, voice softer now. “Guess we are.”

The moonlight poured through the window, catching in his hair, outlining the curve of his jaw. She looked away quickly, staring at the lake instead.

They didn’t say another word.

But even from opposite couches, Y/N could feel the electricity between them—the unspoken words, the old ache, the impossible closeness of being this near to someone she once loved.

And somewhere between the rhythm of their quiet breathing and the sound of the lake outside, she realized this trip was going to be harder than she ever imagined.

The villa was quiet, moonlight spilling through the tall windows and painting soft silver across the couch where Y/N lay curled beneath a thin blanket. Her body ached for rest, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing — flashes of old memories, of laughter, of words that had cut too deep.

She almost didn’t hear the door open, the soft creak barely louder than her own shallow breathing.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes fluttered open at the familiar voice. Donghyuck stood near the entryway, hair slightly tousled, a faint scent of smoke still clinging to his clothes. He must’ve gone out for a cigarette.

“Why are you sleeping here?” he asked quietly, stepping closer.

“Lina can’t stay still,” she murmured, keeping her voice small, her back still to him. “She’s allergic to the carpet in your room, so she’s in mine. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so… couch it is. Goodnight, Hyuck.”

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then she heard his sigh, the soft shuffle of his feet against the tile.

“You take my room,” he said after a moment. “I’ll sleep here.”

She turned slightly, enough to see him standing there — the concern written plainly across his face. “It’s fine,” she whispered. “You don’t have to—”

“Y/N.” His tone was firmer now, familiar in a way that made her chest tighten. “I’m not letting you sleep out here. Go.”

She hesitated, eyes searching his, but the sincerity there made her heart twist. “Still stubborn for my comfort,” she murmured under her breath, and the corner of his mouth lifted just a little — the smallest ghost of a smile.

But then, his expression softened into something heavier, almost vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “For what?”

“For making you cry earlier. And for… bringing up the past like that. It wasn’t fair.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “I just— I still can’t stand seeing you cry, you know?”

Her chest ached at the confession.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Our breakup was the hardest thing I ever went through. It took me a long time to put myself back together. I understand now why you did it, but it doesn’t change how much it hurt. And maybe that’s why I said what I did. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me.” His voice cracked slightly at the end. “But that was a cheap shot. You didn’t deserve that. I don’t want to be something you regret.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat burning as she sat up slowly. “I could never regret our relationship, Hyuck,” she said softly. “It hurt me too. Just because I was the one who ended it doesn’t mean it’s what I wanted.”

Something fragile passed between them then — a stillness full of everything they hadn’t said in years. His eyes met hers, full of old pain and something even older: love.

Donghyuck took a deep breath, forcing a small, tired smile. “Go sleep in my room, Y/N. Please. I’ll stay here.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then, quietly, she nodded. “Okay.”

As she walked past him toward the hallway, her shoulder brushed his chest. Warm, familiar. Just like before.

And when she disappeared into his room, Donghyuck stood there for a moment, staring at the couch — the ghost of her touch still lingering on his arm, the words she’d said echoing in his chest like a heartbeat he hadn’t realized he still carried.

---------------------

Morning light spilled through the linen curtains, soft and golden, creeping across the bed where Y/N lay tangled in sheets that weren’t hers. She stirred faintly, the faint scent of cedar and smoke clinging to the pillowcase. Donghyuck’s scent.

The door swung open.

“Y/N?”

Lina stood frozen in the doorway, blinking in confusion at the sight before her. Y/N pushed herself up on her elbows, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Oh— hey,” Y/N said, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry. I crashed here last night. The couch wasn’t exactly comfortable.”

Lina blinked again, the pieces slowly connecting. “Wait… if you’re in here…”

She turned sharply and left before Y/N could respond, heart pounding as she padded down the hall. The living room came into view, and there he was—Donghyuck—lying on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes, still asleep.

Her chest tightened. He’d given Y/N his bed.

Would he have done that for anyone? Or was it… because it was her? Because some part of him still cared?

She stood there for a long moment, her eyes drifting to the phone sitting loosely in his hand, screen dark and unguarded. Something twisted in her stomach—guilt, insecurity, fear.

She hated that she was even thinking it. But she couldn’t stop herself.

Quietly, she crouched beside him, making sure his breathing stayed slow and even. She carefully lifted his phone, holding her breath as she pressed her thumb to the side. It unlocked instantly.

Her pulse quickened.

She went to his messages first—nothing. No saved thread with Y/N, not even a contact under her name. She checked his call history—still nothing. His socials? He didn’t follow her. No DMs, no likes, no trace. It was as if he’d scrubbed her existence completely.

But something about that felt too clean.

She opened his camera roll next, scrolling quickly through hundreds of pictures—mostly landscapes, food, his friends. Nothing suspicious. Until she reached the albums.

There it was.

A locked folder. Marked with a single yellow heart emoji. Over 3,400 photos. 200 videos.

Her stomach dropped.

It had to be her. Y/N. Who else would he hide behind a password?

Her thumb hovered over the album, her chest tight, tears already threatening to form.

Just then, a voice cut through the silence.

“What are you doing?”

She froze.

Donghyuck was sitting up now, voice still rough with sleep, eyes dark and sharp as they locked on the phone in her hand.

“I—” she stammered, guilt flooding her face. “I’m sorry, I just—”

He stood up, snatching the phone from her grasp before she could finish. His expression hardened, the easy gentleness from last night gone in an instant.

“Obviously,” he said quietly, bitterness lacing his tone, “you don’t trust me.”

Lina’s mouth opened, then closed again. “Hyuck, it’s not—”

“Not what?” he snapped, jaw tightening. “You went through my phone while I was asleep, Lina. What did you think you’d find?”

Her voice trembled. “I don’t know. You gave her your bed, and I just— it felt strange, and I—”

“Because I was trying to be decent,” he interrupted, voice rising slightly before softening. “She was sleeping on the couch. You were in her room. What did you want me to do?”

She blinked back tears, whispering, “I just… needed to know if you still loved her.”

For a moment, the air went still. His grip on the phone tightened.

Then, quietly—too quietly—he said, “You shouldn’t have looked.”

He turned away, running a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. The look in his eyes wasn’t anger anymore. It was disappointment. Sadness. A quiet ache that made her chest hurt even more.

Lina stood frozen in place, guilt and panic eating away at her.

Because even though he never confirmed it—he didn’t need to. The silence between them said everything.

The air between them was tense, sharp enough to cut through.

“I had to look,” Lina finally said, her voice trembling but steady enough to make him pause. “Because I know you’re not being honest with me. Maybe not lying outright—but not telling me everything either.”

Donghyuck exhaled, shaking his head. “Lina, you shouldn’t have—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “I should. Because something’s off, Hyuck. You’re different around her. I see the way you look at her. The way you go quiet when she’s in the room, the way your whole body tenses up if someone even mentions her name. You can’t tell me that’s nothing.”

His jaw tightened. “I didn’t say it was nothing.”

“Then what is it?”

He hesitated, eyes dark and conflicted. For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of the waves outside hitting the shore. Then, finally—

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I was in love with her.”

Lina’s throat constricted, but he kept going before she could speak.

“I’ll always care about her. You don’t spend three years with someone and just switch that off. But she gave up on us, Lina. She ended it. And when she did… it hurt like hell. It broke something in me. But it’s over.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and for a second, Lina saw the truth in his eyes—how much it still haunted him.

She swallowed, voice coming out soft. “But… do you want it to be?”

He blinked, staring at her like she’d spoken another language. “What?”

“Do you want it to be over?” she repeated, barely above a whisper.

Donghyuck groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Why are you asking me hypothetical questions? I’m with you, Lina.”

She scoffed, a small bitter laugh escaping. “Well, it doesn’t really feel like it. Because you keep dodging every question I ask. And honestly?”—her voice broke—“it sounds like you’re just settling for me because you can’t have the person you really want.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No? Then answer this—why do you still have a saved album of her? Why keep thousands of photos if you’re so over her?”

He froze, lips parting but no words coming out. She watched the guilt flash in his eyes, the way his breath hitched slightly, and she knew—she was right.

“Because she’s the love of my life,” he said finally, the words escaping like a confession he’d been holding for years.

Lina’s heart sank, her vision blurring.

Donghyuck’s voice cracked, raw and broken. “And I was a young, stupid idiot who thought I could have it all. The career I wanted, the love of my life—I thought if I worked hard enough, I could build us a perfect future. I wanted to give her a ring. A big house. A life she’d never have to worry in again.”

He let out a bitter laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize that while I was building our future, our presentwas falling apart. She was lonely, scared. And I wasn’t there. I kept saying I was doing it for us, but it didn’t matter because she just needed me. And I wasn’t there.”

He swallowed hard, his voice lowering to a whisper. “The night she broke up with me, she was crying. Sobbing. Saying she couldn’t do it anymore, that she didn’t feel seen, that she needed someone who would be there for her. I can’t stand to see her cry, Lina. I thought I was the reason she was unhappy. So I just… let her go.”

He looked down, shaking his head. “Are you happy now? You have the whole damn story.”

Lina was silent, trembling, tears spilling before she could stop them.

“I’m not a villain for trying to move on,” Donghyuck said softly, almost pleading. “But there are some memories even I refuse to delete. I haven’t even looked at that photo album since we broke up. But I won’t delete it. Not because I’m holding on, but because it’s a part of me. A part of who I was. Who I am.”

His voice cracked again, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

The room felt impossibly small—filled with everything that had been said and everything that couldn’t be unsaid.

Lina finally nodded, her heart aching. “I just… I wish you could love me the way you loved her.”

He looked at her, guilt etched across his face. “I do love you, Lina.”

But even as he said it, they both knew it wasn’t the same.

Donghyuck’s heart was pounding in his chest. The silence after his confession was deafening. Lina stood in front of him, eyes glassy but steady, breathing through the kind of pain that came from finally accepting the truth you’d been trying to ignore.

She swallowed hard, voice trembling but clear. “Well… we’re over, Hyuck.”

He blinked, his lips parting, but no sound came out.

“I won’t settle for being someone’s second choice,” she continued, her tone soft but unflinching. “You just called her the love of your life. She’s already in the next room, sleeping in your bed. If you want her, go get her.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she didn’t let him.

“You’re right,” Lina said, tears slipping down her cheeks as she tried to smile through it. “You’re not the villain for trying to move on. But I won’t be the villain either—for getting in between you two. Because that’s what I feel like right now. The obstacle in a story that was already written before I even showed up.”

Her voice broke, but she forced herself to keep going. “And for what it’s worth, she’s not over you either. She’s my best friend, Hyuck. I know her better than anyone. And I’ve never seen her react to anyone the way she reacts to you. You just have to look at her once and she’s completely undone. She can’t even say your name without her voice changing.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You have three years of history that I can’t compete with. And I refuse to compete. I just wish…”—her voice wavered—“I just wish you both could’ve been honest with your feelings a bit sooner. Because standing here right now, I feel so damn stupid for being in the dark all this time.”

Donghyuck’s throat burned, guilt flooding his face. “Lina, I—”

But she stepped back, cutting him off. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. It won’t fix anything.”

She took a deep breath, looking at him one last time. “I can’t stay here with you two, not knowing what’s still between you. I can’t share this space with ghosts you both clearly still live with. So I’m packing my shit and I’m leaving tonight.”

Her voice cracked at the end, but she didn’t let herself falter. “We’re through.”

Donghyuck just stood there, frozen, chest aching, unable to find the right words.

Lina wiped at her tears roughly and gave him a small, tired smile. “I hope you two sincerely have a nice life together.”

She turned before he could stop her, walking to their shared room, the echo of her footsteps painfully loud.

The door clicked shut.

For a moment, Donghyuck couldn’t move. He just stared at the empty hallway, the weight of everything pressing down on him—his guilt, his memories, the faint scent of her perfume still hanging in the air.

And then—silence.

When Lina opened the door to their room, it was empty. Y/N’s suitcase was gone. The bed where she’d slept was perfectly made, the sheets smooth and untouched.

Her stomach dropped.

No note. No sound. No trace.

Just the quiet realization that Y/N, too, was gone.

---------------------

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[jikookncity]

Donghyuck x Reader - Forgotten Memories

Hyuck gets into a skiing accident and forgets about a year of his life, including his breakup with y/n. When he wakes up, everyone pretends they're still together for his sake but things aren't as easy as they seem

fluff, smut (unprotected sex, shower sex), angst, happy ending, exes to lovers 

WC: 10.6k 

Eight months ago, Donghyuck had ended a four–year relationship with Y/N.

He hadn’t stopped loving her — that was the problem. His career had grown louder, faster, more demanding, and every time he looked at her, he saw someone shrinking to fit around his schedule. Late nights, missed anniversaries, phone calls cut short. He told himself breaking up was the kinder choice.

Then, one skiing accident erased the past year of his life.

When Donghyuck woke up in a hospital bed with a pounding head and unfamiliar machines beeping around him, the first thing he asked was a name.

“Where’s Y/N?”

His mother froze. His father looked up sharply from the chair beside the bed.

“Hyuck,” his mother said carefully, forcing a smile, “you’ve been in an accident. You need to rest.”

Donghyuck frowned. “I am resting. But where is she? She should be here by now.”

His father stood. “We’ll be right back,” he said quickly, already guiding the doctor out of the room.

The hallway felt too quiet.

“He remembers up to a year ago,” the doctor said after reviewing the chart. “Everything before the accident is intact. Anything after is… gone.”

His mother pressed a hand to her mouth. “That means he thinks—”

“That he and Y/N are still together,” his father finished gently.

His father ran a hand through his hair. “We can’t tell him. Not right now.”

The doctor hesitated. “Emotional shock can seriously interfere with recovery, especially with head trauma.”

His mother nodded desperately. “They were together for four years. He adored her. If we tell him they broke up—because of him—”

“He’ll spiral,” his father said quietly.

The doctor sighed. “If you’re asking my opinion… it might be best to maintain his perceived reality for now. Until his memory stabilizes.”

A long silence followed.

Finally, his mother said, “We need to call her.”

Y/N almost dropped her phone when she saw Donghyuck’s mother’s name flash on the screen.

“Hello?”

There was a sharp inhale on the other end. “Y/N… there’s been an accident.”

That was all it took.

She arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes later, hair still damp from the shower she’d abandoned, coat half-zipped, breath uneven. Donghyuck’s parents met her in the hallway before she could even ask where he was.

“He’s awake,” his father said quickly. “But—please, listen to us first.”

They sat her down in a quiet consultation room. The words came out haltingly at first, then all at once.

“He lost a year of memories.” “He thinks you’re still together.” “He keeps asking for you.”

Y/N stared at them, numb. “What?”

His mother’s eyes filled with tears. “He doesn’t remember breaking up with you. To him, everything is perfect.”

“That’s… insane,” Y/N said, standing abruptly. “You can’t expect me to—”

“We’re not asking forever,” his father interrupted, voice breaking. “Just for now. Until he heals. The doctor says emotional distress could slow his recovery.”

His mother reached for Y/N’s hands, clutching them tightly. “Please. He woke up scared, and all he wants is you.”

Y/N pulled her hands back, pacing the room. “He broke up with me,” she said quietly. “He decided we were better off apart.”

“And we know how much that hurt you,” his mother whispered. “But right now… he’s our son. And he’s fragile.”

Silence stretched between them.

Y/N stopped pacing. She thought of Donghyuck’s laugh, his crooked smile, the way he used to reach for her in his sleep. She thought of the phone calls that stopped coming. The goodbye she never got to argue against.

And now, him waking up believing she was still his safe place.

Her voice came out small. “What if he remembers?”

The doctor spoke gently. “Then we’ll tell him the truth. This isn’t meant to deceive him forever.”

Y/N closed her eyes.

“…Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll do it. For now.”

His mother broke down immediately, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

His father joined them, his voice rough. “We owe you more than we can say.”

Y/N hugged them back, even as her heart ached.

Because walking into that room meant pretending she’d never been left — and loving someone who didn’t remember letting her go.

When Y/N finally stepped into the hospital room, Donghyuck’s head snapped toward the door instantly.

“There you are.”

Relief washed over his face so openly it almost hurt to look at. He tried to sit up, muscles tensing as he pushed against the mattress.

“Hey—” Y/N hurried forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. “No, don’t do that. You need to rest.”

He frowned at her, clearly unconvinced. “I’m fine. I just—” He reached for her, fingers curling around her wrist, tugging gently but insistently. “Come here. Sit with me.”

She hesitated for half a second before giving in, letting him pull her down beside the bed. The moment she sat, he relaxed, like something essential had finally been put back where it belonged.

“You scared me,” he said quietly. “I woke up and you weren’t here.”

Her throat tightened. “I’m here now.”

He lifted her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I missed you.”

The words landed heavier than he could possibly know.

She swallowed. “…I missed you too.”

Donghyuck studied her face, concern flickering through his eyes. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“I’m okay,” she replied, forcing a small smile. “What about you? Does anything hurt? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Just… stay. Like this.”

She nodded, lifting her free hand to his hair. Her fingers moved through it slowly, carefully, the same way she used to after long nights when he came home exhausted and overstimulated, shoulders tense from the weight of everything he carried.

His eyelids fluttered almost immediately.

“Oh,” he murmured, surprised. “That feels so good.”

Her chest ached.

“Of course it does,” she whispered.

His breathing gradually evened out, grip on her hand loosening as sleep pulled him under. Within minutes, he was fast asleep, cheek tilted toward her palm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N exhaled shakily, shoulders slumping.

She stared at him — peaceful, unaware, safe in a reality that no longer existed — and gently rested her forehead against the edge of the bed.

“This is going to be so hard,” she whispered to no one.

But she didn’t move her hand away.

--------------------

The doctors cleared Donghyuck to rest at home instead of staying overnight, with strict instructions.

“No work. No schedules. No pressure,” the doctor said firmly. “At least a few months. Your brain needs time.”

Donghyuck groaned. “I’m going to go insane.”

Y/N smiled politely, hand resting lightly on his arm. “You’ll survive.”

He leaned closer to her, lowering his voice. “As long as you’re there.”

The drive to his place was quiet, broken only by him humming softly to whatever song played on the radio. Y/N watched the city pass by the window, nerves twisting tighter the closer they got.

When she unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiarity hit her all at once.

Nothing had changed.

She froze just inside the entryway, eyes drifting toward his gaming desk. Her breath caught when she saw it — a framed photo of the two of them, smiling at the camera, her head resting on his shoulder. Another one sat on the living room shelf, slightly crooked, like it had been adjusted often.

She blinked, stunned.

She’d been so sure he would’ve put them away by now.

Donghyuck kicked off his shoes and stretched. “Feels good to be home.”

He turned to her, noticing her still standing there. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said quickly, forcing herself to move. “Just… tired.”

He studied her for a second, then grinned. “Nap with me.”

Her heart skipped. “You need to shower first.”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re so bossy.”

Still, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before heading toward the bedroom. “Don’t disappear.”

“I won’t,” she murmured.

He emerged a moment later with clean clothes in his hands, frowning slightly. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

He gestured vaguely toward the bedroom. “Why is your side of the bedside table empty? And your toothbrush isn’t in the bathroom.”

Her pulse spiked.

She scrambled for the first explanation that sounded believable. “Oh—uh. I’m in the middle of switching stuff out. It’s been a while since I replaced some things, so I didn’t bring everything yet.”

Donghyuck hummed, unconcerned. “Okay.”

He shrugged, already distracted, and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the shower starting made her shoulders sag in relief.

She didn’t waste a second.

Y/N picked up his phone from the counter. Her fingers hovered for a moment before unlocking it.

The password was the same.

Her chest tightened at that.

She opened their message thread — empty for months, a gap that screamed the truth she wasn’t allowed to tell. Quickly, she typed a few harmless messages from earlier dates.

Did you eat yet? Don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you soon ❤️

She sent them to herself, spacing them out just enough to look natural.

Then she opened his camera roll.

Mostly work. Screenshots. A few old photos of them — ones she recognized immediately.

She airdropped a couple recent selfies from her phone into his gallery, making sure they blended in. Nothing too obvious. Just enough to erase suspicion.

By the time the shower shut off, her hands were shaking.

She placed his phone back exactly where it had been and took a steadying breath.

This was only temporary, she reminded herself.

But as Donghyuck emerged, hair damp and smile easy, already reaching for her like everything was still the same, Y/N knew—

Temporary was going to hurt the most.

Y/N sat on the opposite end of the couch, clipboard of discharge papers folded neatly in her hands.

“Okay,” she said, clearing her throat, slipping into a tone that tried very hard to sound calm and not terrified. “Doctor’s rules.”

Donghyuck groaned immediately, slumping back. “I hate rules.”

“You’re going to hate these,” she replied dryly. “First — screen time is limited. Max three hours a day.”

His head snapped up. “Three?!”

“And it has to be spaced out,” she added. “You can slowly increase it over time if you don’t get headaches or dizziness.”

He stared at her like she’d personally betrayed him.

“Reading is encouraged,” she continued, flipping a page. “Physical books, not on a tablet.”

He sighed dramatically. “This is torture.”

“You also have to be really careful in the shower. No rushing, no locking the door, and you sit down if you feel even a little dizzy.”

“Yes, mom,” he muttered.

“And you have to take your meds. No skipping.”

“I won’t,” he said, softer now.

She hesitated, then added, “No strenuous physical activity.”

Donghyuck’s lips curled into a slow grin. “What about in bed?”

Her face flushed instantly. “Yes — even in bed.”

He laughed, delighted. “Wow. You’re serious.”

She crossed her arms. “Very.”

He tilted his head. “Okay, but what about… other stuff?”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hyuck, it’s all off the table, okay? This is now a PG-13 household.”

He folded his arms, pouting like a sulky kid. “This is the worst recovery plan ever.”

“You’ll live,” she said, though she was smiling.

She continued down the list. “You can’t drive. No gym. No rehearsals. No group activities until you’re cleared.”

His expression shifted then — the teasing drained away, shoulders sagging.

She noticed immediately. “Hey,” she said gently. “What’s wrong?”

He stared down at his hands. “I feel stupid,” he admitted quietly. “I got into an accident, my career’s on hold, I’m suspended from group stuff… it just feels selfish. Like everyone has to stop because of me.”

Her chest tightened.

“You didn’t choose this,” she said firmly. “It’s not your fault. You don’t owe anyone your health.”

He glanced at her, eyes soft but sad. Then he frowned slightly. “You’re sitting really far away.”

She smiled.

Without another word, she crossed the space between them and sat down on his lap. His arms came around her instantly, like it was instinct, like he’d been waiting for it.

“There,” she said softly.

He relaxed against her, murmuring, “That’s better.”

His lips brushed her clavicle in a light, absent kiss, nothing more than comfort. He closed his eyes, forehead resting against her shoulder, breathing evening out.

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, heart heavy but steady.

This was the hardest part — being close, being familiar, pretending everything was still okay.

And doing it anyway.

--------------

Donghyuck fell asleep without realizing it.

One moment he was breathing slowly against her shoulder, arms loose around her waist, and the next his weight settled fully into her, head resting against her chest like it had a hundred times before. His breaths evened out, warm and familiar, the soft rise and fall pressing into her ribs.

Y/N didn’t move.

She should have. She knew she should have.

But she didn’t.

A sharp, guilty thought settled in her chest — this feels too good.

She’d missed this. God, she’d missed this more than she’d ever admitted. The quiet closeness, the way he fit against her like it was natural, the comfort of being needed without having to ask.

Without him, the past eight months had been hollow. Heavy. She’d moved through her days feeling lost, hurt, and unbearably alone, pretending she was fine while everything inside her felt misplaced.

And she was still angry.

Angry that he’d decided for both of them. That he’d broken her heart gently, carefully, without ever giving her the chance to fight for them. Angry that he’d walked away while she’d been left carrying all the love with nowhere to put it.

Yet here she was.

Because despite everything, she still cared. Deeply. Desperately.

His health mattered more than her pride, more than her pain. And she would do anything — anything — to make sure he healed safely.

Y/N lowered her gaze to him, fingers moving through his hair in slow, familiar strokes. His face was relaxed in sleep, lashes casting faint shadows, expression soft in a way she hadn’t seen in so long.

She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“This is the last thing,” she whispered silently to herself. “The very last thing I’ll ever do for Lee Donghyuck.”

Her chest tightened as she made the promise.

As soon as he remembered — as soon as the truth came back — she would be gone. No explanations. No lingering. No reopening wounds that had already scarred over.

For now, though…

She held him.

She let herself enjoy the weight of him in her arms, his head warm against her chest as he slept in her lap. She stroked his hair, kissed his head again, mourning a life she once knew — a love that still existed, even if only in fragments.

And she stayed very still, afraid that if she moved, it would all disappear.

----------------

A few days passed, and Y/N slipped back into their old routine like muscle memory.

It scared her how easy it was.

Donghyuck slept in now, no alarms, no frantic mornings rushing out the door. She insisted on it every time he tried to wake early, gently pushing him back into the pillows.

“You need rest,” she’d say firmly. “Work isn’t going anywhere.”

So she became the one in the kitchen each morning.

His parents called daily. Sometimes twice. Y/N updated them carefully — no headaches today, he ate well, he’d taken his meds. Each time, there was a pause before his mother quietly said, “Thank you. Again.”

Y/N never knew what to say back.

This morning, she was standing at the stove, eggs sizzling softly in the pan, when she felt warmth behind her.

Lazy footsteps. Familiar ones.

Donghyuck wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, cheek pressing into her shoulder as if it was instinct. He kissed the side of her neck, then her cheek, slow and affectionate.

“Morning,” he murmured.

Her breath caught.

Y/N bit her lip, forcing herself to relax instead of stiffening. This is normal, she reminded herself. You have to let this be normal.

She turned slightly, lifting a hand to rest over his arm. “Morning. You should still be sleeping.”

He smiled against her skin. “Couldn’t. Smelled food.”

She laughed softly, a sound that surprised even her.

When breakfast was done, Donghyuck settled at the coffee table, shirtless, legs crossed comfortably as he read. His glasses sat low on his nose, hair sticking up messily from sleep, sunlight catching on his skin in a way that made her chest ache.

Y/N leaned against the counter, watching him for just a second too long.

This was everything she used to love.

This was home.

And it wasn’t real anymore.

She exhaled slowly, turning back to the stove before the weight of it crushed her. Because as perfect as it looked — as peaceful as it felt — it was all built on borrowed time and a truth waiting to resurface.

An illusion she was living inside.

And one day soon, it would shatter.

“I need to do groceries,” Y/N said casually, rinsing the pan in the sink.

Donghyuck looked up from the couch immediately. “I’ll come with you.”

She hesitated. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said simply, already reaching for his hoodie.

She didn’t argue.

Y/N drove, hands steady on the wheel, while Donghyuck sat in the passenger seat humming softly under his breath. It took her a moment to recognize the tune.

She glanced at him. “Is that an EXO song?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. It’s stuck in my head.”

Without saying anything, she connected her phone and pulled up an EXO playlist, pressing play. The music filled the car, familiar and warm.

Donghyuck’s smile widened. He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You always know.”

Her chest tightened, but she smiled anyway.

They parked at the Lotte Department Store grocery level, the automatic doors sliding open to cool air and quiet chatter. Donghyuck took the cart from her immediately, hands firm on the handle as he pushed it slowly down the first aisle.

They moved unhurriedly.

Rice. Vegetables. Pantry staples. Donghyuck paused often, squinting at labels like he was on a mission, glasses slipping slightly down his nose. Y/N didn’t rush him. She just walked beside him, enjoying the absurd normalcy of it all.

At one point, she noticed him quietly tossing her favorite sweets into the cart. Then fruit she loved. He didn’t ask. Didn’t comment.

He just knew.

Her heart swelled painfully.

“Hyuck,” she started, but stopped herself.

He glanced at her. “What?”

“…Nothing.”

He went back to pushing the cart.

They stopped near the refrigerated section, Donghyuck still reading ingredients thoughtfully.

“What can I cook for you, baby?” he asked, eyes still on the shelves.

The word hit her softly but deeply.

She loved when he called her that. Always had.

“Anything you want,” she said, smiling at him. “I love everything you make.”

He hummed, pretending to deliberate for a moment longer before nodding decisively.

“Kimchi jjigae it is.”

Y/N laughed, light and genuine. “I knew you’d say that.”

Donghyuck grinned, nudging the cart forward again.

And for just a little while longer, they let the world believe they were exactly where they belonged.

The checkout line moved quickly.

Y/N reached for her bag out of habit, fingers just brushing the strap when a soft beep sounded first. She looked up to see Donghyuck already tapping his card against the reader, completely unbothered.

“Baby,” he said with a small laugh, grabbing the receipt, “why do you even try? You know I’m never gonna let you pay.”

She rolled her eyes, lips twitching despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“And proud,” he replied, already lifting the grocery bags like they weighed nothing. “Stay there.”

She watched him walk ahead, shoulders relaxed, familiar confidence in every step. He’d always been like this — stubborn, protective, quietly insistent on taking care of things even when she didn’t ask.

Some things never changed.

They got into the car, Donghyuck immediately scrolling through the music. This time, upbeat 127 tracks filled the space. He turned it up and started singing along without shame, hitting the high notes with dramatic flair.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, smiling softly, listening.

During the breakup, she’d tried so hard to avoid anything that reminded her of him. Deleted playlists. Skipped songs. Changed stations. But late at night, when everything felt too quiet, she’d give in.

She’d listen to his music.

Especially his solo album.

Just to hear his voice.

She sighed before she could stop herself.

Donghyuck glanced over. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head quickly. “Nothing. I just… missed hearing you sing like this.”

His smile turned slow and teasing. “You know you can get a private concert from me anytime you want.”

He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Her heart stuttered.

Without thinking, she turned his hand over and kissed it back, soft and brief. When she looked up at him again, he was beaming — bright, open, completely unaware of the ache blooming in her chest.

She faced the road again, fingers still laced with his.

And let herself enjoy the sound of his voice a little longer.

---------------

They unpacked the groceries together, moving around each other with practiced ease.

Y/N stacked containers in the fridge while Donghyuck organized the cabinets, humming quietly to himself. It felt automatic — like their bodies remembered the choreography even if everything else was fractured.

He opened the recycling bin and froze.

“…Why are there so many alcohol bottles in here?”

Y/N looked over, wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. She peeked inside.

Soju. A lot of it.

“Oh,” she said carefully. “Maybe it just… built up over time?”

But even as she said it, confusion flickered across her face too. Donghyuck didn’t usually drink like this. He liked a casual drink, sure — but this much?

Her eyes caught the labels.

Original flavor.

Her chest tightened.

He only ever drank that when he was stressed. When something was wrong but he didn’t want to talk about it.

Donghyuck shrugged, unconcerned. “Huh. Weird. I’ll empty it later.”

He closed the bin and moved on like it didn’t matter, but Y/N stayed frozen for a second longer, the implication sitting heavy in her chest.

He’d been hurting more than she knew.

He turned back to her, brighter now. “Maybe I can cook tonight and invite Johnny and Mark over or something. Keep things normal.”

Her heart skipped — then sank.

“Yeah,” she said after a beat. “Sure.”

But nerves crept in immediately.

She hadn’t seen them in so long. Not since the breakup. They knew the truth — all of it. They knew Donghyuck had ended things, knew she’d disappeared from their shared spaces, knew how much it had hurt.

And now they’d have to pretend.

Pretend nothing ever broke. Pretend she hadn’t cried herself to sleep for months. Pretend this domestic little bubble wasn’t built on borrowed time and silence.

She knew Donghyuck’s parents had already contacted the members, explained the situation carefully.

He doesn’t remember. Please don’t tell him yet. Just act normal.

Y/N swallowed.

Normal was going to be the hardest part.

She looked at Donghyuck as he started pulling ingredients out for dinner, sleeves rolled up, completely at ease.

And she wondered how long they could all keep up the lie before something cracked.

Y/N’s chest felt too tight, thoughts stacking on top of each other until it became hard to breathe.

“I think I’m gonna take a quick nap,” she said quietly, setting her phone down.

Donghyuck looked up immediately. “Are you okay?”

He stood and gently pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, brows knitting together in concern.

She caught his wrist before he could pull away. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “Just a bit tired.”

He searched her face for a second, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll wake you when I’m done cooking and when the boys are coming.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She fell asleep faster than she expected.

When she woke up, the apartment smelled like kimchi and garlic, warm and comforting. Somewhere nearby, Donghyuck was humming under his breath — low and tuneless, the way he always did when he cooked.

She sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before reaching for her phone. She scrolled aimlessly, then opened a chat with one of her friends.

Coffee soon? I miss you.

She sat up, grounding herself, then walked out to the kitchen.

“Everything looks great,” she said, peeking into the pot.

Donghyuck smiled proudly. “Good timing. Mark and Johnny will be here in ten minutes.”

Her stomach fluttered. “You should shower.”

He glanced down at himself, then laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“I’ll let them in,” she added quickly.

“Okay,” he said easily, already heading toward the bedroom.

When the doorbell rang, Y/N paused for a breath before opening it.

She didn’t know what she’d expected — awkwardness, maybe hesitation.

Instead, Johnny’s face lit up instantly.

“Y/N!”

Before she could react, he lifted her off the ground in a huge hug. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around him automatically.

“We missed you!” Mark said warmly, pulling her into a hug next.

“It’s so nice to see you both,” she said honestly.

They stepped inside, voices softer now.

“How’s Hyuck?” Mark asked. “Does he remember anything?”

She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

Johnny’s expression turned gentle. “That must be really hard. Pretending.”

She shrugged lightly. “It is.”

He hesitated, then said, “You didn’t have to cut us off, you know. We became your friends too.”

She smiled sadly. “That’s really nice of you to say. But it didn’t feel right. I never wanted Hyuck to feel like I was imposing on his life when he didn’t want me in it.”

Johnny’s voice softened. “If you ever want to talk about anything — anything at all — I’m here for you.”

Her eyes burned just a little. She nodded. “Thank you.”

Footsteps sounded from the hallway.

Donghyuck walked out, hair still damp from the shower, towel slung over his shoulder. “What’s up, losers?”

Mark grinned. “Good to see you, man.”

Y/N stepped back slightly, heart steadying as the night continued — all of them playing their parts, even as the truth waited quietly between them.

Johnny and Mark settled onto the couch, the atmosphere carefully casual.

“So,” Johnny said, leaning back, “how are you feeling, Hyuck? Really.”

Donghyuck shrugged. “Okay, I think. Head’s still a little weird. Everything feels… slow.”

Mark nodded. “That makes sense. What’s the last thing you remember before the accident?”

Donghyuck went quiet, brows furrowing as he searched his mind. “It’s fuzzy,” he admitted. “But I remember going to the aquarium with Y/N.”

Y/N’s heart skipped.

“That was… a year and two months ago,” she said gently.

His eyes widened. “Seriously? I can’t believe I can’t remember almost a whole year.” He laughed weakly, shaking his head. “Guess I’ll have to relearn choreo and songs if it doesn’t come back.”

“You won’t,” Mark said quickly. “Your body remembers that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Johnny added. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck nodded, reassured. He stood and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “You can catch me up soon anyway. You keep up with all our comebacks better than we do.”

Her chest tightened, but she smiled.

He turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab the food.”

The second his back was turned, the three of them exchanged a look — heavy, unspoken, full of things they couldn’t say.

Y/N broke the silence quietly. “Your latest song… the one you released three months ago? It was really good.”

Mark smiled. “Thanks.”

Donghyuck glanced back over his shoulder, confused. “Wait — how come you haven’t talked to them about it yet? Three months is kind of a long time.”

She shrugged, keeping her voice light. “It just… hasn’t come up.”

“Hmm,” he said, still watching her for a second longer before turning back to the stove.

Her smile didn’t falter.

Inside, though, her thoughts spiraled.

How many little slip-ups can happen before he notices?

She stared at his back, listening to the soft clink of dishes, wondering how long the illusion could survive before the cracks became impossible to hide.

Dinner ends up warmer than Y/N expected.

Laughter fills the apartment, overlapping voices and easy teasing, the kind that makes time slip by unnoticed. Donghyuck moves comfortably between the stove and the table, plating food with practiced care. At one point, without even looking at her, he cuts her meat into smaller pieces and slides the plate closer.

She freezes for half a second.

Then exhales.

He didn’t even think about it. He just did it — the same way he always used to.

They eat, talk, laugh. For a little while, the tension loosens its grip.

Afterward, they decide to put on a new series everyone’s been talking about. The four of them squeeze onto the couch, Donghyuck settling in the middle. At some point, Y/N’s exhaustion catches up to her. Her head tips against his shoulder, body relaxing before she can stop herself.

She falls asleep there.

The episode ends, and she drifts in and out of consciousness, sounds muffled but familiar.

“She’s been really tired lately,” Donghyuck says quietly.

Y/N doesn’t open her eyes.

“She’s been taking such good care of me,” he continues, voice softer now. “Always double-checking my meds, making sure I follow the doctor’s orders… I can tell she’s stressed. About doing everything right.”

There’s a pause.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” he adds, guilt threading through his words. “I regret getting into that stupid skiing accident.”

Mark speaks first. “Hyuck, it’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Johnny agrees. “Stuff like this just… happens sometimes. You don’t need to punish yourself for it.”

Donghyuck sighs, shifting slightly — careful not to wake her. He lowers his head and presses a gentle kiss to the top of Y/N’s hair.

“I’m just really lucky,” he murmurs. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Y/N’s chest tightens.

She almost wants to smile.

Instead, something bitter twists quietly inside her.

Because he had lived without her. For eight months.

He just didn’t remember it.

And he was the one who let go.

---------------

The next morning, Y/N folded laundry at the foot of the bed, trying to sound casual.

“I’m gonna go clean my place today,” she said. “And bring back some clothes. Pajamas too.”

Donghyuck looked up from the couch immediately. “Why don’t we just stay at yours for a few days?”

Her hands stilled.

She pictured it instantly — the apartment she’d tried to turn into something neutral. The photos she’d packed away into a box, his hoodies folded carefully and placed on top, the box she’d meant to return but never did. It still sat in the corner, untouched, collecting dust because she couldn’t bring herself to text him.

She couldn’t bring him there like this.

She forced a smile. “No, it’s fine. I think it’s better we stay here for now. In case something jogs your memory, don’t you think? Maybe in a few weeks we can go.”

He studied her, then nodded. “Okay.”

A beat passed.

“I can come with you,” he added. “Help you clean.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, you need to rest. Especially after cooking yesterday and staying up late with Mark and Johnny.”

He frowned. “Why don’t you want me to come over?”

She sighed, turning to face him fully. “Hyuck, it’s not that. You really do need rest.”

“I don’t need rest,” he said stubbornly. “It’s boring. I need to stimulate my brain.” He paused, then pouted slightly. “Please let me come.”

Her resolve crumbled instantly.

She leaned in without thinking and pressed a soft kiss to his lips — brief, familiar, dangerous.

“…Okay,” she said quietly.

The second the word left her mouth, guilt followed.

You’re so weak, she thought.

He’d always been like this — and so had she. Always giving in, always bending, always saying yes to him far too easily.

And even knowing how this would end, she let him win anyway.

They stepped into her apartment, and the air felt different immediately.

Donghyuck kicked off his shoes and dropped onto the couch like he owned the place, stretching out comfortably. He patted his lap, eyes already on her.

“Sit with me for a second, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Y/N moved into him automatically, settling into his lap and leaning against his chest like it was second nature. It wasn’t until she felt his arms come around her that her brain caught up — you’re doing it again.

But it was too late.

“Let’s just chill for a second before we start,” he said softly, smiling down at her. “I don’t want you overstressing yourself, taking care of me and everything else.”

Her heart clenched.

She leaned down again, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before she could stop herself. “I could never be stressed taking care of you, my love.”

Her fingers slid into his hair, stroking slowly. He sighed, content, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“I don’t know why,” he murmured, “but I missed your place. It’s so much more cozy. Lived in. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been here.”

A nervous laugh slipped out of her. “Yeah, well… pretty much the same since the last time you came.”

He hummed, gaze drifting around the room.

Then his brows knit together.

“Why are our pictures together gone?”

Her stomach dropped — but her voice didn’t waver.

“I’m cleaning the frames,” she said smoothly. The lie slid out exactly as she’d practiced it in her head.

“Oh,” he said, nodding. “That makes sense.” He smiled. “Maybe I should do the same with the ones at my place. God knows the last time I cleaned them.”

He paused, then added lightly, “Maybe we should add some new ones too. Our pictures are kind of old.”

“Yeah,” she said quickly. “We can.”

She stood up immediately, breaking the moment before it swallowed her whole. “I’m gonna start cleaning.”

He reached for her wrist. “I can help.”

“No,” she said a little too fast, then softened. “You should sit. Watch TV. Rest.”

He pouted. “You’re bossy.”

“And you’re supposed to listen,” she replied gently.

After a second, he sighed. “Fine.”

He leaned back against the couch, turning on the TV while she busied herself with tidying — keeping her back to him, heart pounding, thoughts racing.

Because every question was getting closer.

And every lie was getting harder to hold together.

-----------

They stayed at her place a few hours longer than planned, the afternoon slipping by quietly. Eventually, they drove back to his apartment as the sky began to darken, exhaustion settling in again — the kind that felt heavier than just being tired.

As soon as they were inside, Donghyuck stretched and rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna shower,” he said, glancing at her with a familiar glint. “You wanna join?”

Y/N bit her lip.

Every instinct told her to say no. But she never used to. And today had already been full of too many almost-mistakes, too many moments where pulling away would feel wrong.

“You go first,” she said finally, heart racing. “I’ll join you. But no funny business.”

He smirked, clearly pleased. “Promise.”

She watched him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the apartment. A moment later, she heard him humming softly — some tune she didn’t recognize, but the habit itself was painfully familiar.

She sighed.

You can do this, she told herself. Just act normal.

She undressed slowly, nerves buzzing under her skin, then slipped into the bathroom and stepped into the shower behind him. Steam filled the space, warm and comforting.

He glanced back, smiling immediately. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied quietly.

“We should use the new soap we got,” he said casually. “On you.”

Her breath hitched just slightly.

That had always been his favorite thing — taking care of her in these small, gentle ways. Shampooing her hair, rinsing it carefully. Pressing soap into his hands and scrubbing her arms, her shoulders, like it was something precious instead of ordinary. It was never rushed, never careless.

It had always felt intimate without being overwhelming.

Like love lived in the details.

The warm water cascaded over Y/N's skin, mingling with the suds as Donghyuck's hands glided across her back. His chest pressed firmly against her from behind, his body heat cutting through the steam like a promise. 

His fingers trailed lower, lathering her hips before sliding up to cup her breasts. The soap slicked everything, making his palms glide smoothly as he kneaded the soft flesh. Y/N arched into him, a soft moan escaping her lips when his thumbs brushed over her hardening nipples. 

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, but instead of words, his lips found her neck. Soft at first, then firmer, sucking gently on the sensitive skin just below her ear. 

His mouth moved to her shoulder, teeth grazing lightly as he nipped, sending sparks down her spine.

'Donghyuck,' Y/N whispered, her voice breathy, but he only hummed in response, his hands squeezing her breasts more insistently. The fondling turned possessive, fingers pinching and rolling her nipples until another moan spilled out, louder this time. 

The water rinsed the soap away, but the heat between them built, his growing erection pressing hard against her back.

She couldn't take the tease anymore. Twisting in his arms, Y/N turned to face him, water streaming down both their faces. Her hands tangled in his wet hair as she pulled him into a kiss, desperate and hungry. 

He responded with equal fire, his lips crashing against hers roughly, tongue invading her mouth without mercy. One hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place as he devoured her.

'Fuck the doctor's orders,' he growled against her lips, voice low and ragged.

------------

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[jikookncity]

tysm for the love on this story <3

[capsslutt]

Steve Harrington x Reader

Steve and the gang find y/n in a facility similar to the one Eleven used to be in, they rescue her and bring her under their protection...well actually Steve's protection.

6.4k, fluff, tiny bit angst when she speaks of her past (preview)

-----------------

The air was thick with dust and the smell of rusted metal. Every footstep echoed through the concrete corridor like a whisper from something long forgotten. Steve Harrington swung his flashlight slowly across the walls, the beam catching the broken glass, the flaking paint, the streaks of something he didn’t want to name.

“This place gives me the creeps,” he muttered.

Robin shot him a look over her shoulder. “Everything gives you the creeps now.”

“Because everything keeps trying to kill us, Robin,” Steve hissed back, gripping the nail-studded bat a little tighter.

But when Eleven suddenly stopped walking, every sound in the hallway seemed to dissolve. Her eyes had gone distant, locked on a sealed metal door at the end of the passage. The others fell silent too — Nancy, Dustin, Lucas, Max — each of them holding their breath.

“There’s someone in there,” Eleven said softly, almost reverently.

No one moved for a moment. Then Nancy stepped forward, her voice low but steady. “Can you open it?”

Eleven nodded once. The metal groaned in protest as the bolts twisted, buckled, and finally snapped free under the weight of her power.

The door swung open with a shriek.

Inside, the light from their flashlights spilled over a small, windowless room. The walls were covered in tallies scratched by fingernails — hundreds of them. And in the center, on a thin cot, sat a girl.

She looked up so suddenly that Steve’s flashlight trembled in his hand.

Her eyes were huge, disoriented, like she was staring straight through them — like she couldn’t decide if they were real or another hallucination. She was pale under the dirt, her wrists bruised from old restraints.

“Hey,” Nancy whispered, raising her hands slowly. “It’s okay. We’re friends. We’re here to help.”

But the girl didn’t move. She only drew her knees closer, shaking.

Then Eleven stepped forward. She didn’t speak at first. She just crouched down in front of her and said, gently, “You’re like me.”

That made the girl freeze.

Steve watched, his heart thudding hard in his chest as Eleven lifted her hand. A small, rusted tin plate rose from the floor — hovering, trembling slightly in the air.

The girl’s lips parted. And then, almost without thinking, she raised her own hand. The plate steadied, floated higher, then gently settled back onto the ground.

The room went still.

Eleven smiled — small, reassuring. “See? You’re safe now.”

The girl blinked, her breathing uneven. She looked at Eleven, then at the rest of them, uncertain but searching.

Steve crouched a little, keeping his distance. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone warm, careful — the same one he used when talking to Dustin after a nightmare. “You don’t have to stay here anymore. I’m Steve. These are my friends.”

No answer. Just that flicker of confusion and fear — and something else, something fragile.

“Promise,” Eleven said, touching her arm. “Steve’s good.”

Her gaze shifted to him. Steve tried a half-smile — the kind that said you can trust me, though his heart was beating so hard he swore everyone could hear it.

“You don’t have to talk yet,” he murmured. “We’ll just… get you out, yeah? No rush.”

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the girl nodded.

The ride back was quiet. The air from the car vents was cool and soft, carrying the faint scent of Robin’s bubblegum. Y/N sat in the back beside Nancy, wrapped in a blanket Dustin had found in the trunk. She didn’t speak — didn’t even look up from the window.

Steve kept catching glimpses of her in the rearview mirror. Her reflection flickered in the passing light of the streetlamps — the way her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks, the way her hands fidgeted under the blanket as if unsure how to just be.

She looked breakable. But there was something in the way she held herself — a quiet defiance — that made it clear she had survived things most people couldn’t.

When they reached his house, Steve parked the car in the driveway and hesitated for a second before speaking.

“So, uh,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “My parents are gone for the summer — Europe or whatever. I’m doing summer school so… I couldn’t go.” He gave a small, awkward smile. “You can stay here. Just until we figure something else out.”

Y/N’s fingers tightened around the blanket. She looked at the front of the house like it might be another trap.

“It’s okay,” Eleven said, reaching for her hand again. “Steve’s house is safe.”

The girl studied Eleven’s face for a long moment — then turned toward Steve. His hair was a little messy from the drive, his expression open and earnest.

He didn’t push. Didn’t move closer. He just waited.

Finally, she gave the smallest nod.

Robin leaned in toward him as Y/N followed Eleven up the walkway. “You sure about this, Harrington?” she whispered.

Steve’s lips quirked faintly. “Yeah,” he said. “She’s been through enough. Someone’s gotta make it feel like she’s not still in a cage.”

But when Y/N brushed past him on her way inside, her hair grazing his arm for a second, his breath caught.

He told himself it was nothing — just nerves, pity maybe — but his chest felt strange, tight.

And Y/N, even though she never looked back, found herself wondering if all boys her age were like him — so steady, so gentle, and so impossibly kind.

Because no one had ever looked at her like that before.

-----------------

Steve hadn’t realized how quiet his house could be until everyone was asleep. No music, no clinking of glasses, no hum of conversation — just the ticking of the clock downstairs and the steady hum of the refrigerator.

Robin was snoring softly from his room, sprawled diagonally across his bed with one of his pillows over her face. He’d tried to sleep in his parents’ room, but even that felt weird. Everything in there smelled faintly of his mom’s perfume and his dad’s aftershave — cold, expensive, and empty.

He’d been staring at the ceiling for almost an hour when he heard it.

Footsteps. Light and hesitant.

Steve frowned, sitting up slowly. The sound came again — pacing, back and forth, back and forth, soft enough that it could’ve been the wind if he didn’t know better. He threw on a T-shirt and padded out into the hallway.

Y/N was there.

Her bare feet were silent on the hardwood, her hair messy from sleep. She was walking small circles in front of the guest room door, head down, fingers twitching at her sides.

“Hey,” Steve said gently, voice still rough from sleep. “Everything okay?”

Y/N froze like she’d been caught doing something wrong. Then she nodded — quick, nervous.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Bed too soft or something?”

She shook her head.

“Too hot?”

Another shake.

Steve hesitated. “You want, uh… water? Maybe?”

She paused, then nodded.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Come on.”

He led the way downstairs, glancing over his shoulder every few steps to make sure she was still there. The kitchen light buzzed softly when he flipped it on. Y/N squinted at the brightness, but said nothing as he pulled two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with cold water.

She took the first one without hesitation, drinking it in a few quick gulps. Then another. And another. Steve blinked, half-impressed.

“Thirsty, huh?” he said, smiling a little.

She didn’t answer, just reached for the pitcher again. He leaned against the counter, watching her in the dim light — the way her hands trembled slightly, the way she avoided his eyes.

After a moment, he spoke again, softer. “You got a name?”

She paused mid-sip. Her eyes flicked up to him, uncertain. Then she lifted the glass again and drank. No answer.

Steve huffed a quiet laugh through his nose. “Right. Okay. No pressure.”

He turned to put the pitcher back when he heard it — small, quiet, like a fragile thread of sound:

“My name is Y/N.”

His head snapped up. She was looking down, fingers curling around the rim of the glass, but her voice — though soft — carried.

“Oh.” He blinked, then smiled. “Well… it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

She nodded once, bringing the glass back to her lips.

Steve didn’t push for more. He just filled a big jug with water, handed it to her, and motioned upstairs. “For later. In case you get thirsty again.”

Back in the guest room, she crawled under the blanket immediately, wrapping herself up until she was nothing but a small cocoon in the center of the bed. Steve leaned on the doorframe, watching her pull the covers up to her chin.

“Comfy?” he asked.

She peeked out from under the blanket, then nodded again.

He smiled, quiet and genuine. “Good.”

He reached for the light switch, flicked it off — and immediately, Y/N gasped, sitting up sharply, eyes wide with panic.

“Whoa—hey, sorry!” he said quickly, flipping it back on. “You want the light on?”

She nodded again, fast, like the darkness itself was something that could still reach for her.

“Okay,” Steve said softly. He turned the brightness down a little but kept the lamp glowing. The light painted her face in soft gold, enough to chase away the shadows. “Better?”

She nodded.

He smiled again — that easy, lopsided kind that made people trust him without realizing it. He left the door cracked open, just enough for her to see the hall light spilling in.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said quietly.

She didn’t respond, but when he turned to leave, he caught the faintest shift in her expression — a flicker of relief, maybe gratitude, maybe something she didn’t have words for yet.

Steve lingered a second longer, then closed the door partway and padded down the hall.

And for the first time since they found her, Y/N lay down without fear.

She watched the strip of light from the hallway stretch across the floor, and for the first time in years, she let her eyes close.

------------------

The morning sunlight poured through the kitchen windows, golden and soft, catching the faint dust in the air. The house smelled like pancakes and burnt butter — Robin had insisted she could cook, but Steve was the one flipping them, sleeves rolled up, spatula in hand, concentrating way too hard.

“Don’t burn that one,” Robin warned, taking a sip of orange juice.

“I’m not—” Steve started, only for the edge of the pancake to blacken. He cursed under his breath, scraping it onto the growing stack. “Okay, that one’s yours.”

“Rude.” Robin grinned, shoving his shoulder.

Y/N sat at the table, watching them quietly. The sound of their bickering was warm, familiar — like a language she’d forgotten how to understand. There was something magnetic about the way they moved around each other: Robin teasing, Steve rolling his eyes, both of them laughing without thinking. It was the kind of friendship that felt like home.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen something like that.

When Steve finally set a plate in front of her, stacked with pancakes and syrup glistening down the sides, she blinked at it like it was a piece of art.

“There you go,” Steve said softly. “Eat as much as you want, yeah?”

She nodded, gripping the fork carefully, almost unsure how to start — then once she did, she didn’t stop. Robin watched, trying not to look too obvious, but Y/N ate like someone who’d gone far too long without real food.

Steve smiled faintly, leaning against the counter with his own plate. “Guess I didn’t screw up too bad, huh?”

Y/N just hummed, still chewing.

They were halfway through breakfast when Steve realized they were out of milk. “I’ll run to the store real quick,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

Robin saluted him dramatically. “No promises.”

When the door shut behind him, the kitchen fell into a comfortable silence. Y/N took another bite of pancake, eyes flicking toward Robin, then down again.

After a moment, she asked, quietly, “You and Steve…?”

Robin blinked, mid-bite. “What—? Oh!” She nearly choked on her food, waving a hand quickly. “No, no, no. God, no. We’re just friends. Very, very good friends, but — yeah. No.”

Y/N’s fork paused halfway to her mouth. Robin’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god,” she gasped softly, leaning closer. “You just talked.”

Y/N’s lips twitched into the smallest smile.

Robin grinned wide, excitement bubbling up instantly. “Okay, okay, wait— what’s your name again? You said it last night, right? Y/N?”

Y/N nodded.

“And how old are you?”

“Seventeen,” Y/N said between bites, syrup smudged on her lip.

Robin’s heart squeezed a little. She wanted to ask more, but she didn’t want to push. So instead, she just sat there and watched the girl eat like she was tasting sunlight for the first time.

By the time Steve came back, juggling a carton of milk and a newspaper, Y/N had polished off three pancakes and was eyeing the last one on Robin’s plate.

“Hey,” he said, dropping the milk on the counter. “You two didn’t, like, burn the toaster or summon demons or anything, right?”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Not yet.”

They all sat again, and after a quiet moment, Steve asked softly, “So… Y/N. If you don’t mind me asking — what happened? How’d you end up there?”

The air seemed to still. Y/N’s fork paused midair.

Then, slowly, she exhaled.

“I had a family,” she began, voice quiet but steady. “A good one. My mom taught music. My dad worked in town. We weren’t rich, but we were happy.”

She swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the table.

“Then one day… one of Papa’s people came. I was in middle school. I… made something float.” Her fingers twitched unconsciously, and a napkin lifted slightly from the table before she caught herself, letting it fall. “He saw. And that was it. They came at night. Told my parents it was for safety. For me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Robin’s fork had gone still. Steve hadn’t moved.

“They kept me in a facility for older kids. Tests, training, the same things they did to Eleven, I think. But… lately, they started disappearing. Shutting everything down. The people running it left one day — they didn’t even tell us why. Just… gone.”

She looked up then, her eyes glassy but bright. “I thought I was going to die there. Until you found me.”

For a moment, no one spoke. The sunlight hit her hair, catching the faint gold in it, and Steve felt that familiar ache in his chest — the kind that came from realizing how much someone had survived just to sit at your table.

Robin reached out, setting her hand over Y/N’s. “Well… you’re not there anymore.”

Steve nodded, smiling softly, though his throat felt tight. “Yeah. You’re here now. And we’re really glad we found you.”

Y/N smiled — small, shy, but real. Then she stabbed the last pancake on her plate, eyes flicking up to meet theirs just once before she went back to eating.

Robin grinned at Steve over her head, and for a second, they both just sat there — watching the girl who, for the first time in years, looked like she finally believed she was safe.

--------------

By afternoon, the house was buzzing again. Robin had put on music — something soft and a little out of tune — and the sunlight drifted lazily through the windows. Y/N was curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, looking more at peace than anyone had seen her since the night before.

Then came the knock on the door.

Steve opened it to find Eleven, Mike, and Dustin standing on the porch, faces bright with curiosity.

“She’s here?” Mike asked before even saying hello.

“Yeah,” Steve said, stepping aside. “But go easy, okay? She’s still figuring things out.”

The trio filed in quickly, Dustin carrying a backpack full of snacks like it was his ticket to any serious meeting. Eleven spotted Y/N immediately, her expression softening.

“Hi,” she said, walking over.

Y/N hesitated, then smiled. “Hi.”

They sat together on the rug, cross-legged, facing each other. The air in the room shifted — quiet, electric.

“Can you show me?” Eleven asked.

Y/N looked at Steve for a moment, as if asking permission. He nodded gently.

She lifted her hand, and the remote control on the coffee table rose into the air, floating effortlessly. Eleven blinked, impressed, then focused — the lamp beside the couch lifted to join it.

For a moment, both objects hovered side by side, caught between them like twin stars.

Everyone watched in awed silence.

Then Y/N flicked her wrist. The remote spun once, landing perfectly back on the table. Eleven laughed — an honest, joyful laugh that made Robin’s heart squeeze.

“You’re stronger than me,” Eleven said quietly, wonder in her voice.

Y/N smiled a little. “Maybe I just had more time to practice.”

Eleven grinned and reached for her hand. “Maybe you can teach me.”

Y/N’s smile softened as their fingers met. For the first time, she didn’t look scared. She looked understood.

Steve stood a little back, arms crossed loosely, watching the two girls with something between pride and protectiveness. It felt good — seeing her like that, seeing both of them like that. Like all the pain hadn’t been for nothing.

After a few minutes, Y/N got up, brushing her hands on her jeans. “I’m gonna grab a glass of water,” she said.

“I’ll get it,” Steve said instantly, already standing.

She blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Thanks.”

He nodded, heading to the kitchen.

Dustin trailed after him, smirking like he was watching a soap opera.

Steve poured the water, pretending not to notice. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Dustin said, leaning on the counter. “Except for the part where you basically just confessed your undying love for her.”

Steve froze mid-pour. “What? No, I didn’t—what are you even talking about?”

“‘I’ll get it.’” Dustin mimicked dramatically, clutching his chest. “‘I’ll get it for you, Y/N.’ Bro, do you even hear yourself? You’re like one sad acoustic guitar away from writing her a love song.”

Steve glared at him. “I was being nice. She just escaped a government lab, Dustin. Excuse me for trying to be hospitable.”

Dustin raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. You fall for girls way too easily, man.”

“Nothing is going on,” Steve said firmly, handing him the milk carton he’d left on the counter. “Nothing.”

“Sure thing, Romeo.”

Steve ignored him, carrying the glass back into the living room. Y/N looked up as he approached, her expression gentle. She accepted the glass, their fingers brushing briefly — just enough to make something flicker in both of them.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Anytime.”

Dustin plopped into a chair, grinning like he knew everything. Robin rolled her eyes.

The room fell into a soft, easy rhythm again — Mike and Dustin chatting about the Demogorgon comic they’d just found, Robin teasing Steve under her breath, Eleven still smiling beside Y/N.

Y/N took a sip of her water, then glanced sideways. Steve’s arm rested casually along the back of the couch, his body warm beside hers. She could feel the heat of him, steady and alive — a feeling she hadn’t known she missed until now.

She didn’t move away.

And Steve… didn’t either.

---------------------

The mall was busy and loud — a swirl of laughter, pop music, and air-conditioning that smelled faintly like buttered popcorn. Y/N clutched the paper shopping bag to her chest as they moved between stores, her wide eyes scanning every window display like the world itself was new again.

Nancy led the way, already plucking dresses off racks and holding them up against Y/N’s frame. “You’d look adorable in this one,” she said, pressing a soft yellow sundress into her arms.

Y/N ducked her head shyly but smiled, disappearing into the dressing room.

Steve sank into the little waiting chair outside the stalls, drumming his fingers against his thigh. He tried to look anywhere but the mirror where he could see flashes of Y/N’s bare shoulders as she changed. Dude, stop, he told himself. She’s been through hell. She doesn’t need you staring like an idiot.

Nancy came out holding a pair of jeans. “She’s sweet, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Steve mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, she is.”

When Y/N stepped out, her hair falling softly over the yellow fabric, Steve forgot how to breathe for a second. The mall lighting made her look almost unreal, sunlight trapped in human form.

Nancy grinned at him knowingly. “You okay there, Harrington?”

He coughed. “Yeah. Fine. Totally fine.”

By the time they’d hit the bookstore, Y/N had gathered a small pile of novels and trinkets — a little ceramic owl, a silver bookmark. She ran her fingers reverently over the book covers like she’d missed the feeling of paper. Steve just watched her quietly, thinking that for someone who’d been locked away from the world, she carried herself with such quiet curiosity.

When Nancy left for her date with Jonathan, it was suddenly just the two of them.

Steve cleared his throat. “Wanna grab some ice cream?”

Her eyes lit up, and that was all the answer he needed.

At Scoops Ahoy, Steve ordered a banana split, setting it between them on the small round table. He remembered the way she’d drowned her pancakes in syrup that morning, and he smiled. “You seemed like a sweets kind of person.”

Y/N took the first bite, her eyes fluttering shut, a tiny sound leaving her throat — soft, surprised, and way too distracting. Steve’s spoon froze midair. He had to look away, pretending to study the neon menu.

“This is really good,” she murmured, her lips shining with a bit of whipped cream.

Steve reached across without thinking, brushing it away with a napkin. His hand lingered a moment too long, fingers brushing her cheek. When he realized what he’d done, he pulled back like he’d touched fire. “Sorry. Just—uh—you had something there.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

They ate in silence for a while after that, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but felt… fragile.

Then, softly, she asked, “Why are you so nice to me?”

Steve blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t even know me,” she said. “You let me stay in your home. You… you protect me. I don’t understand.”

He set his spoon down, meeting her gaze. “Because you deserve to feel safe. Everyone does.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to say more, but instead, her spoon slipped and clattered against the bowl. Steve bent to pick it up. “I’ll grab you another—”

But before he could move, the spoon lifted gently off the table, floating toward her.

Steve’s breath caught. He reached over, covering her hand, lowering it back down. “Hey,” he whispered, glancing around. “Not in public, okay? It’s not safe.”

Y/N froze, eyes wide — then nodded slowly. Steve didn’t move his hand from hers right away.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide who you are. Just… not here, alright?”

Her shoulders relaxed at his tone, and she gave the smallest smile — a shy, fragile thing that made something tighten in his chest.

“Okay,” she whispered.

They finished the sundae side by side, the hum of the mall around them fading into something quieter. Steve couldn’t tell if it was the sugar, or her presence, or the way her eyes lingered on him now and then — but something about that moment felt new. Like the start of something neither of them knew how to name yet.

---------------

Nancy curled up on her bed, still smiling as she dialed Robin’s number. “Hey,” she said, twirling the phone cord around her finger. “Date went great, but I have to tell you something before I forget.”

Robin’s voice crackled on the other end. “Uh oh. What?”

“Nancy,” she said, grinning. “Steve definitely likes Y/N. You should’ve seen him today. The way he looked at her in that yellow dress? It was like a scene out of one of those cheesy romance movies he pretends he doesn’t watch.”

Robin snorted. “No way. Steve? Our Steve?”

“Oh, absolutely. He doesn’t even know it yet, but that boy’s in deep.”

Both of them dissolved into giggles, their laughter spilling through the phone line, warm and fond.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait,” Robin said, sighing dramatically. “He’ll figure it out all by himself soon enough.”

The front door creaked open at nearly the same time.

Steve stumbled in, arms full of shopping bags, Y/N trailing behind him with the rest. She looked tired but content, her steps light as she set the bags down by the couch.

“Okay,” Steve exhaled, stretching his back. “We officially bought half the mall.”

Y/N laughed softly under her breath, a sound that made his stomach twist in the best way.

He glanced at the pile, then suddenly groaned. “Ah, crap. We forgot to get you pajamas.”

She tilted her head, blinking up at him.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “You can wear some of mine for now.”

He disappeared into his room and came back holding a pair of grey sweatpants and a faded old gym shirt from freshman year — one with his last name printed across the back. It looked huge in her hands.

“They’ll probably be too big,” he said, rubbing his neck awkwardly, “but—uh—they’re clean. And soft.”

Y/N smiled, clutching them like they were made of silk. “Thank you.”

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” he said, pointing. “You can try the new soaps Nancy got you.”

The moment she closed the door, Steve sank into the couch and cracked open a soda, the carbonation hissing quietly. He leaned his head back against the cushion, staring at the ceiling.

It was wild how fast everything had changed. One week ago, his biggest problem was passing summer school. Now there was a girl with powers sleeping under his roof — a girl with kind eyes, a quiet laugh, and a story that made his chest ache just thinking about it.

He took another sip of soda. What the hell are you doing, Harrington?

The bathroom door opened with a faint click.

Y/N stepped out, steam curling from the doorway. Her damp hair clung to her cheeks, and Steve’s shirt hung loosely on her, sleeves falling past her elbows. Her skin looked soft, freshly scrubbed, the faint smell of honey and citrus drifting through the air.

She padded over and sat beside him on the couch, tucking her legs up under her.

“You can change the channel,” he said, nodding to the TV. “I was just catching up on basketball.”

She tilted her head — then, without touching the remote, the channel flicked once. Twice.

Steve blinked, half a laugh escaping him. “Right. Forgot you could do that.”

Y/N kept flipping until the screen landed on a documentary about ocean life. A narrator’s calm voice filled the room, describing coral reefs and migrating whales. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen, glowing blue in the TV light, like she was trying to memorize the world she’d missed.

Steve smiled faintly. Cute, he thought, before he could stop himself.

He got up and made popcorn, returning to find her leaning forward slightly, completely captivated by the jellyfish drifting across the screen. She took a handful from the bowl when he offered it, their fingers brushing for half a second longer than they needed to.

They didn’t talk much after that. The room was warm and quiet — the kind of quiet that felt safe.

Halfway through the documentary, Steve noticed she’d slumped to the side, head tilted against the couch cushion. Her hand still rested in the bowl, a few kernels clinging to her palm.

He smiled softly, lifting the bowl from her fingers and setting it on the coffee table. She barely stirred.

Pulling the couch blanket over her shoulders, he stood there for a moment, watching her breathe. The flickering light of the TV washed over her face, making her look peaceful — like she’d finally found somewhere she could rest.

Steve exhaled and raked a hand through his hair, forcing himself to step back.

He took a long shower, letting the water beat down on his shoulders. But even with his eyes closed, all he could see was her — in his shirt, in his house, asleep on his couch.

And for the first time in a long time, Steve Harrington wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing.

Because the girl he’d promised to protect… was starting to feel like the one he couldn’t afford to fall for.

----------------

The next morning the world felt still — sunlight slipping through the curtains, the smell of coffee filling the Harrington kitchen. Steve leaned against the counter, sipping from a chipped mug, half awake and half thinking about the girl still asleep in his guest room.

He’d stayed up too late the night before, replaying the way she’d fallen asleep during the documentary — how peaceful she’d looked, how strange it felt to have someone else’s quiet presence in his house again.

The phone rang, breaking his thoughts. He grabbed it.

“Yo, Harrington! Summer party tonight,” one of his friends shouted over the crackle of static and music. “Big pool thing over at the Hendersons’ cousin’s place. You coming or what?”

Steve hesitated, then smiled faintly. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

When he hung up, he found Y/N standing in the doorway, still in his oversized shirt, hair a sleepy mess.

“Morning,” he said, voice soft. “You sleep okay?”

She nodded, rubbing her eyes.

He hesitated before speaking again. “So, uh… there’s a party tonight. Thought maybe you’d wanna come? Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan will be there too. It’s chill, nothing crazy. You don’t have to, but—”

“I’ll go,” she said quietly, surprising him.

He blinked. “Yeah?”

Her nod was shy, but real. “I want to.”

By early evening, the house buzzed with laughter and movement. Robin and Nancy had arrived with bags full of makeup, hairbrushes, and accessories, claiming the guest room like a small beauty salon.

Steve sat on the couch, pretending to read a magazine, but the sound of their giggles and chatter drifted down the hallway — soft, warm, alive.

It made something ease in his chest. His house, for so long too big and too quiet, suddenly felt like it had a heartbeat.

“Steve!” Robin shouted through the door. “No peeking, dingus!”

He chuckled, tossing the magazine aside. “Wasn’t planning to!”

“Sure you weren’t,” Robin teased.

The door finally opened after what felt like forever.

Nancy walked out first, adjusting her earrings; Robin followed, grinning and twirling dramatically. But when Y/N stepped into the hallway, everything around Steve seemed to slow down.

She wasn’t overdressed — just soft curls, a bit of gloss on her lips, a sundress in a color that made her eyes stand out. Simple. Beautiful. She shifted nervously under his gaze, smoothing her hands down the fabric.

Steve cleared his throat, trying not to stare but failing miserably. “Wow. Uh… you guys all look great.”

Robin elbowed him playfully. “You mean we or she?”

Steve shot her a look. “All of you,” he said quickly — though his eyes lingered on Y/N a moment too long, the corner of his mouth lifting in a quiet smile.

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled back, small and hesitant.

“Ready?” Nancy asked, grabbing her bag.

Y/N nodded.

Steve grabbed his car keys and glanced back once more before heading out. The girls followed, laughter filling the air behind him.

He didn’t say it out loud, but as they walked toward the car — her soft footsteps next to his — he realized something he hadn’t wanted to admit until now:

He liked the sound of her laughter in his house. He liked the way her name sounded when he said it. And God help him — he was already in trouble.

-------------

The sun had barely dipped below the trees when they pulled up to the party. Music drifted through the thick summer air, mixed with the smell of sunscreen, barbecue smoke, and chlorine. Strings of fairy lights looped over the pool, and the water glowed electric blue beneath them.

Y/N hesitated just behind Steve’s shoulder as they stepped inside the gate. The hum of voices was louder than she expected; too many people, too much movement. Steve turned to her, voice low enough that only she could hear. “Hey. You’re good. Stick with us, yeah?”

She nodded, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. Robin gave her an encouraging smile and tugged her toward the snack table.

Within minutes, people were greeting Steve, clapping him on the shoulder, shouting his name. He gave the usual half-smile, the one that said he’d been to a thousand parties like this before, but his eyes kept sliding back toward Y/N. She was standing beside Robin, head tilted curiously at a bowl of neon-colored punch, like she couldn’t quite believe it was real.

Two guys from his summer class wandered over, plastic cups in hand. “Yo, Harrington,” one of them said, eyeing the girls. “Who’s that with you? Haven’t seen her around before.”

Steve’s jaw flexed. “Family friend. Just moved here.” He said it lightly, but there was a quiet finality in his tone that made both of them back off a step.

“Pretty cute,” the other guy muttered, elbowing his friend. Steve’s eyes flicked toward him, calm but sharp. “Yeah,” he said evenly. “She’s taken care of.”

The guys laughed awkwardly and moved on.

Robin, who’d been close enough to hear, arched an eyebrow. “You do realize you just scared off half the pool?”

Steve shrugged, pretending not to care. “What? I’m just making sure she’s not overwhelmed. She doesn’t… know people yet.”

Robin smirked. “Sure, hero. Just looking out for her.”

Across the yard, Y/N had found Nancy and Jonathan by the pool steps. Someone handed her a soda; she thanked them politely, smile small but genuine. Every once in a while, her gaze drifted toward Steve—just long enough for Robin to notice.

Steve, for his part, didn’t flirt with anyone. A few girls tried—laughing at his old stories, touching his arm—but his attention kept wandering back to the edge of the pool where Y/N was sitting, dipping her toes into the water. Her expression was a mix of wonder and something softer, like she was finally tasting normal life again.

Robin nudged him. “You know, for someone who said this party would be fun, you’ve barely looked away from her all night.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “I’m just making sure she’s okay.”

“Uh-huh.” Robin rolled her eyes, smiling. “You’re hopeless.”

Steve didn’t answer. The music swelled, lights reflecting in Y/N’s hair, and he thought—just for a second—that maybe Robin was right.

The party had thinned out by the time the moon rose. Laughter drifted faintly from the backyard, fading into the steady hum of cicadas. Down by the lake, away from the lights and noise, the air was cooler, the water rippling silver in the dark.

Y/N sat on the wooden dock, shoes off, toes skimming the surface. The breeze played with the hem of her dress. She could still hear distant music, but out here it sounded soft, far away, like another world.

Steve found her there a few minutes later, hands shoved in his pockets. “Thought I’d find you out here,” he said gently.

She glanced back at him, a little smile tugging at her mouth. “It’s quieter.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, lowering himself to sit beside her. The boards creaked under his weight. “Parties aren’t really my thing anymore.”

Y/N tilted her head. “You seemed like you liked them before.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well. Used to.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. The moonlight painted both their faces pale gold. Y/N watched him from the corner of her eye—how his reflection shimmered in the lake, how he stared at the water like he was thinking too hard.

“What about you?” she asked suddenly. “What do you like to do? When you’re not saving people from monsters or… babysitting the world?”

Steve smiled at that. “I don’t know. Work. Movies. Fixing stuff around the house.”

“Must be nice,” she said softly. “Having a house.”

He shrugged, looking down at his hands. “It’s big. Kind of empty, actually. My parents are gone most of the year, so it’s just… me. And a lot of silence.”

Y/N studied him quietly. There was a sadness in the way he said it, the kind that didn’t always show in words.

Her eyes caught on a faint scar near his collarbone, half hidden by his shirt. “That hurt?” she asked, pointing.

He looked surprised, fingers brushing it unconsciously. “Oh. That one? Demogorgon. Long story.”

She reached out before she could stop herself, tracing it lightly with her fingertip. “You don’t look scared.”

Steve swallowed, every muscle still. “Guess I got used to being scared,” he said after a beat, voice low. Her touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver up his neck all the same.

She pulled her hand back, frowning slightly. “Sorry.”

“No,” he said quickly. “It’s okay.”

They sat in silence again, the sound of the water lapping at the dock. After a moment Y/N asked, “Won’t your girlfriend mind that I’m staying at your house?”

Steve turned his head toward her, one eyebrow raised. “Girlfriend?”

She nodded, suddenly self-conscious. “You seem… popular.”

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Nah. No girlfriend. Not for a while.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Oh.”

“Guess I’m just… waiting for something that feels real, you know?” he said, voice softer now. He looked back toward the water, avoiding her eyes.

Y/N nodded slowly, thinking about how strange it was to feel seen by someone for the first time. The stars rippled on the surface of the lake between them.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to. The quiet said enough.

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