summary: you are the bane of lord jeong’s existence and the object of all his desires.
genre: fluff, angst, smut
warnings: enemies to lovers trope (kind of), fuckboy!jaehyun, arranged marriage trope, jaehyun is down bad, pussy eating, fingering, loss of virginity
As the new social season approaches, your rising anxiety increases tenfold.
It has been four years since you were introduced to society, which is deemed far too long to be unwed for a lady like yourself. Your mother is nearly chewing her own arm off in anticipation of you finding a husband. She definitely would have married you off to the first gentleman caller by now, but luckily for you, your father refuses to tie you to another man unless you provide your stamp of approval. He possesses a soft spot for his only child that your mother never understood.
Unfortunately, the pool of suitors is extremely lacking, forcing you to pass by season after season with no husband in sight.
“Perhaps this year will be different,” Yerim coos. “They say Mrs. Kim’s son is particularly eye-catching.”
“He’s also a right bore,” you grumble, locking your arms together as you stroll into Mrs. Kim’s soirée. You’ve heard many tales of her son, Doyoung, and how he’s finally ready to settle down and take a wife. However, you also heard he is unwilling to sit for a conversation for more than an hour, and how his expectations for his wife are skyrocketing through the roof. “Maybe I shall just put him out of his misery and marry Lee Donghyuck.”
She struggles to conceal her laughter. “I would love to see that.”
The night carries on as expected, with you and Yerim spending your time near the wall while the other ladies dance around the floor. You deny multiple requests for your hand, conjuring up excuses of a strained ankle or an upset stomach.
It is not until the end of the night when you are confronted with your lie.
“A poor tummy, hm? Perhaps you should have stayed home in case you heave all over Mrs. Kim’s beautiful floor,” Jeong Jaehyun says as he approaches you.
You roll your eyes. “I imagine you find it quite hard to mind your own business, Lord Jeong. I would rather not be subject to hearing your grating voice if it is not deemed necessary.”
Out of all the gentlemen in the ton, Jeong Jaehyun is the one who has stooped low enough to classify himself as a proper rake. A man who preys on the hearts of women and lacks commitment — a rake is not a man that a lady would ever want to associate herself with. They do not take the concept of marriage seriously, and you shall likely find them in the bed of another woman before they grace your own.
Jaehyun smirks at you in the way he knows will dig underneath your skin. He has been out in society just as long as you have, and every year, he never fails to irritate you to no end.
“No luck for you tonight? Tell me, what could possibly be wrong with the wonderful men gracing this room? How have they wronged you so that you have denied every single one of them?”
You try to look for an escape, but Yerim has already made an early departure and the rest of the ladies refuse to mingle with you in fear of also being dubbed as a lonely spinster.
“I did not know you were paying attention to me so ardently,” you bite back, and this has Jaehyun’s ears blooming bright red. You smile in satisfaction.
“I-I was not doing anything of t-the sort,” he stutters. “It is simply hard not to notice when you are the only lady actively rejecting possible suitors. If you really want to drive them away, you should just open your mouth and talk to them. That shall have them running for the hills.”
You narrow your eyes and wonder how much of a scolding you shall receive from your mother if you threw your drink in his face. He guesses what you must be thinking, cupping his hand over your glass and handing it to a nearby staff member.
He continues, stepping closer into your personal space. “Soon enough, the only ones who will be left in this ballroom will be me and you.”
“I loathe the day,” you hiss. “It would personally be my worst nightmare.”
He winks at you. “Trust me, you shall not find a gentleman better than me.”
You hear someone clearing their throat and you both glance over to see Kim Doyoung standing in front of you. You immediately drop to a curtsy at his presence, and you hear Jaehyun scoff at the fact that you did not grant him the same etiquette.
“I hope I am not interrupting, Miss,” Doyoung says.
“Of course not, Lord Kim,” you reply. “Lord Jeong was just telling me how he plans to retire early for the night.”
Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at you and you return his bewildered expression with a heated glare. You would be very content if he made himself useful somewhere else, likely with his hands underneath another maiden’s dress.
“Yes, it seems I have another obligation to head to for the night,” Jaehyun says through gritted teeth, displeased by your dismissal of him. “I shall thank your mother for being a spectacular host before my leave, Lord Kim.”
Doyoung nods once. “It would be much appreciated. Thank you, Lord Jeong.”
Jaehyun departs with one more scathing look thrown your way. You grin to yourself, happy to be rid of his presence, until Doyoung starts speaking and ruins your night.
“I have heard from your mother that you are in search of a husband. I find myself in a similar boat, and I would much enjoy it if you were to accept my offer for tea tomorrow afternoon.”
You could say no. It would not be hard to make up another excuse, but your mother would be absolutely livid to discover you have turned down an offer from Doyoung, especially after she practically handed him to you on a silver platter.
One afternoon of tea shall not kill you.
“That sounds lovely. I look forward to our discussion.”
When you turn to beeline for the exit, you catch a pair of eyes peering over at you, and you swear you see a flash of Jaehyun’s hair before he disappears into the crowd.
Hm. You must be seeing things.
—
Your mother acts as if afternoon tea with Doyoung equates to an audience with the king.
She dresses you in a gown she brings out for special occasions and has your handmaidens spray perfume on you until you are drowning in the floral scent. When she accompanies you to the tea parlor, she lists out your annoying habits that you should try to avoid.
You were not made aware that you possessed so many.
“And the way you look at him, darling, it is extremely unflattering. He can tell you hate him by the way you desire to burn him alive with your gaze. Stare at him with conviction. Make his loins stir from one simple glance at you.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Mother, I shall say that I find this advice to be highly unhelpful.”
She growls at you. “You are nearly four and twenty without a single acceptance for a suitor’s hand in marriage. You shall adhere to any advice I am willing to offer you.”
Doyoung helps take out your chair like a gentleman, and you thank him while your mother sits one table behind you, eavesdropping on your conversation.
He cuts straight to the chase. “What traits do you envision for your future husband to possess?”
Your grip tightens around your teacup. You wonder what to say to ward him off, to get him to move onto the next lady.
“A man who will let me maintain my own hobbies and interests. I want to have children on my own time, not on the timeline my husband sets for me,” you answer, knowing that it is not the typical response a lady of your breeding is supposed to say. You are supposed to submit to your husband’s preferences instead of prioritizing your own. “I ask that he respects my wishes and swears his loyalty to me. I will not, in any circumstances, marry a rake.”
“This one is all bark and no bite, Doyoung. I would not take her threats to heart.”
You clench your jaw when Jaehyun approaches your table with a wide smirk on his face. He appears to be dressed for tea as well, but you see no partner by his side to accompany him. He must be here simply to intervene in your meeting with Doyoung.
“Lord Jeong,” you greet in clear distaste. “I was not aware you had been frequenting tea parlors as of late.”
“Ah, you must not be enlightened of my many passions then,” he replies with a cheeky smile. You resist the urge to slap it off of his face. “The madam who runs this shop has a fond affection for me. I always like to drop by and grab a free pastry.”
“How kind of you to take from the hard work of the common people at no charge,” you challenge with the tilt of your head.
Doyoung clears his throat when he senses the tension between you and Jaehyun rising with every scathing remark. You glance back to see your mother staring at you in abhorrence, and you quickly straighten your posture and adjust your tone.
“I apologize, Lord Jeong. I have been enjoying my time with Lord Kim. I am certain you have somewhere else you need to be.”
Jaehyun, to your chagrin, pulls up a chair. “Actually, my schedule is wide open for the day. I would love to join you.”
Doyoung stares at you, wordlessly asking if this is normal behavior, but you are too pissed off to respond. If Jaehyun wanted to cause a scene, he could have done so when you are not trying to prove to your mother that you still care about searching for a husband.
Your fingernails dig into the corner of the table and you lean forward to hiss at Jaehyun.
“Are you positive you have nowhere else to be?”
He smiles. “Absolutely. Now, catch me up on what you two were discussing. I would love to throw my hat into the conversation.”
Evidently, you and Doyoung have yet to be on the same wavelength for what you should and should not bring up in front of Jaehyun.
“I was asking her what she looks for in her future spouse.”
Jaehyun turns to you with a smirk. “Oh, is that so? Well, please, do not silence yourself on my behalf. I would love to hear the answer.”
“I already gave it to him,” you say in exasperation. “Maybe we should turn the tables on you. What does a rake like Jeong Jaehyun look for in a wife? Likely one that easily spreads her legs?”
You hear a gasp from behind you, and you know it is your mother’s shock at your candor. But you shall not allow Jaehyun to get the better of you and humiliate you in front of Doyoung. You hardly care if this statement will earn you a reputation for your crass nature.
The corner of Jaehyun’s lips twitches in amusement, only fueling fire to your flame.
“I would like for my wife to challenge me. It is not as fun when they comply with my every demand,” he says, and you fail to realize how the distance between you has closed in your heated spat. “I like a lady who knows how to speak up for herself, to voice her thoughts without concern for anyone else’s feelings.”
You scoff. Where in the world is Jaehyun going to find a lady like that?
“Good luck with your search, Lord Jeong. I have conviction that there is at least one lady out there who is meant to be with you.”
“I really should be going,” Doyoung says, standing and nearly toppling over the table.
You glance up at him in alarm. “Oh, I am sorry, Lord Kim. Let me just gather my things and-”
“No need, Miss. It must have slipped my mind that my mother asked for my presence back at home. I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
He scurries out of the tea parlor as if the place had been set to flames. You stare after him with your jaw dropped, offended by his poor excuse to leave you behind.
You growl at Jaehyun. “Oh, you have seriously done it now, Jeong.”
“Come on. Do not tell me you were actually considering that man to be your husband.”
Your mother’s figure looms over you and you shyly look up to meet her judgmental gaze head on.
“I believe it is time for us to return home. We hope you have a wonderful evening, Lord Jeong.”
You’re dragged away by the crook of your arm, glaring at Jaehyun while your mother dishes out the biggest scolding you have ever received in your life.
—
“Your mother has brought me a proposal that I think may be in your favor.”
Your father is hesitant when he enters your study, catching you reading books by the fire. It is often the pastime you favor when your mother is upset with you, which has become more frequent in the past year. Your father is the one who searches out for you to try and talk you down, amending your qualms with your mother for a harmonious household.
“I shall not marry Kim Doyoung, father,” you say with the shake of your head. “He embarrassed me in front of the entire ton today! I will not be able to stave away the mortification for days.”
He sits next to you on the chaise lounge and looks at you solemnly.
“I have not come to converse about Kim Doyoung. I am speaking about Jeong Jaehyun.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What does Lord Jeong have to do with this? He is the reason why Lord Kim fled from me in the first place.”
Your father wrings his hands around nervously, and you speculate on what has him so antsy. He is usually very candid with you about your behavior, which means you must have crossed a hard line if he’s withholding information from you.
“Lord Jeong’s mother came around this afternoon after your incident at the tea parlor. She thinks her son is acting far too reckless and wants him to settle down. She is considering sending him to his uncle’s house in the country if he does not start listening to her wishes.”
“That does not sound like a bad idea,” you reply with a giggle.
He offers you a strained smile. “Yes, your mother was thinking the same thing. Except she was imagining it for you.”
You leap out of your seat. He must be lying. Your mother cannot possibly be entertaining the idea of shipping you off to her brother’s house. He lives on acres and acres of land without a soul in sight except for the farm animals he cares for.
It would be your absolute nightmare.
“Father, please tell me you objected to this,” you plead, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach.
“Of course I did, darling,” he sighs, assuring you. “But then your mother and Lord Jeong’s came to an agreement that I could not oppose. I saved you from being shipped off, but in a few months’ time, you shall find yourself married to Jeong Jaehyun.”
You gasp. “F-Father, you cannot! You promised that I would get the final approval!”
He takes your hands in his and pulls you back towards his side. You are trembling at the picture of you and Jaehyun living as husband and wife. You would fight everyday and drive yourselves into a haze of madness.
“Darling, there shall never ever be a man good enough for you. I knew it from the day you were born, but your mother’s insistence on this matter has forced my hand. I think Jaehyun is a fine young man. You may not grow to love him, but he shall never put you in harm’s way. It is the most important quality a father can ask of his son-in-law.”
You start to tear up. “Please, father. Do not do this. Do not make me marry him.”
He pities you. “We shall start slow, darling. He shall be your escort to Mrs. Park’s upcoming ball and we shall ease into announcing your engagement. If he does anything untoward or compromises your virtue, I swear to you I shall back out of this deal.”
“But why can you not back out now?” You whine, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “Why can you not save me now?”
He winces as if your pain physically brings him harm. You understand your father has bailed you out of your mother’s many propositions before, but you honestly cannot let this one slip through. Jaehyun is the exact opposite of who you envision yourself marrying.
He has to be just as horrified by this proposal as you are. You have no doubt he’s sitting in a similar situation to you, arguing with his mother over her ultimate decision to alter the course of his life. This must be the first agreement you have landed on in history.
“You shall not realize it now, but I am saving you from a lifetime of heartache, trust me.”
You spend the rest of the night weeping in your bedchamber, burdened by Jaehyun’s constant overbearing presence in your life. You think back on all of the memories you have of him, and if this changes the way you feel about your inevitable coupling.
—
When you first met Jaehyun, it had been your first season out in society. You were optimistic back then, drinking in the fairytales of finding your one true love at your first ball.
You were not the only one jaded by love as many of the other ladies your age had fantasized about their first ball as an eligible lady for years. You would gossip to each other while promenading around the veranda, dreaming of the young bachelor who would swoop you up in his arms and make all your dreams come true.
You had known a few of the men from growing up with them as noble families. They were usually brothers of your closest friends, and your nose would twist in disgust at the thought of being courted by them. You were stubborn about your choice in a husband even back then.
Jaehyun had been the talk of the town that year. He already made an impression on the older ladies, winning them to his side with his dimples and classic charm. You heard of him through Yerim and how many of the other ladies were vying after the massive amount of wealth in his estate. He was one of the richest bachelors of the season, and any lady who was wed to him would automatically be elevated to a higher social status.
You assumed that because of his upbringing, he would act in a more gentleman-like fashion than the rest of his peers. You were proved wrong by his display of behavior at your first ball.
“Is he planning to dance with every lady in this room?” You asked Yerim, watching as Jaehyun once again swept through the floor with a different lady latched onto his arm. “I mean, every dance card in this place has his name written on it.”
She laughed at you. “Can you blame him? He has a lot of prospects. Everyone knows he’s the first pick of the season.”
“It is disrespectful. He is toying with their feelings for his own amusement. I do not like it.”
She poked you with a twinkle of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “No, you do not like that he has not asked you. You want a chance with him, do you not?”
You scoffed at the assumption. “Absolutely not. I have my sights set on a much higher man than Lord Jeong.”
You were so adamant on your superiority over him that when he approached you later that night for a dance, you swiftly rejected him.
“I think you have had enough dances for the night. Would you not agree, Lord Jeong?”
He narrowed his eyes at you, likely wondering what he had done to already get on your bad side.
“One more shall not bring me harm. Unless your dancing skills are not up to par, Miss?”
You grinned at him. “My dancing skills are meant for a man who shall actually appreciate my talents instead of using me to cross another name off his list.”
That was the first time you had drawn Jaehyun’s interest.
—
Your mother had not been so gracious with you by your second year.
You had fumbled through a shoddy proposal from Kim Jungwoo, who was far too nervous to actually place a ring on your finger. You unfortunately injured his ego way too far for him to recover, and he quickly withdrew his proposal with his tail tucked between his legs.
Your mother blamed you for the ordeal and ordered at least five new dresses for you to present yourself in your second season. Luckily, Yerim had not caught any gentleman callers either, and you two began flocking together at every event.
By then, Jaehyun’s infamous status as a rake had spread across the ton.
He had been spotted slipping out of brothels late at night, flirting with married women when their husbands were away, and escorting random ladies to balls just for the fun of it. You never possessed a single ounce of respect for him.
Despite this, Jaehyun would not seem to leave you alone.
Every time you turned a corner, he would be there, waiting to surprise you with an insult or tease you about your almost-marriage with Jungwoo.
“Must we keep meeting like this?” He said after the season was nearly halfway over and you had just turned down another suggestion to dance. He stalked you all the way to the bowl of lemonade while you tried to ignore his grating voice. “No one here is up to your caliber?”
“What do you want, Jeong?” You spat out, tired of his nonsense. “I thought you would be halfway down the street by now, searching for an open brothel.”
He chuckled at your jest. “They have put up warning signs about me to all the women. Apparently I caused a few too many internal fights over my rugged good looks.”
You rolled your eyes. “I find it more likely that they figured out you are sexually impotent.”
“There is only one way to find out for yourself, hm?”
“I would rather gauge my own eyes out.”
“What’s the matter? Am I not as pretty as Jungwoo?”
Johnny Suh had been the one to rescue you, asking you for a dance, which was the first offer you accepted that night. You would glance to the side from time to time to catch Jaehyun’s gaze following you around the floor, but you preoccupied yourself by staying near Johnny, preventing the loathsome creature from approaching you again.
—
Johnny had gotten married to Lady Joohyun by the next year, leaving you without a regular dance partner in your third season. Many believed he would propose to you, but you knew that he had only wanted to make Joohyun jealous after his confession to you one night.
Jaehyun, surprisingly, did not bother you whenever you were with Johnny. He had been noticeably absent from any ball where Johnny was your escort.
You believed your luck had taken a turn until your first appearance after Johnny’s marriage.
“Well well well,” you heard his drawl from a mile away. Yerim looked at you hesitantly after you tensed by her side. “Look who has decided to make an appearance on her own.”
At the time, you were giddy about your chances of a husband that season. Many noblemen had returned from vacation with friends and distant relatives accompanying them, nearly doubling the pool of gentlemen at your disposal.
You were absolutely not going to allow Jaehyun to ruin the year for you. You decided to play civil, to hopefully make amends and let bygones be bygones.
“Lord Jeong,” you greeted with a curtsy, which had Jaehyun stifling a chuckle. “How lovely to see you here.”
“Is it?” He replied with a raise of his eyebrow. “If I recall, you compared me to a horrid bug staining the bottom of your shoe just a few months ago.”
Yerim pursed her lips to prevent a cacophony of laughter from slipping out. You squeezed her arm with a scolding glance.
“That was the old me, Lord Jeong. I am a new woman, so you see. I am about to become a bride after all.”
“A bride? To whom have you been betrothed to? I have heard no news of your engagement,” he said in a flurry, his eyes flashing with a panic for reasons unbeknownst to you.
“You have not heard news of my engagement yet,” you emphasized. “The night is young and I am a very willing maiden. Therefore, if you’ll excuse us-”
“If you are so willing, then shall you entertain me with a dance?” He questioned as he held out one hand, challenging you.
You clenched your jaw in frustration. You were all in favor of extending an olive branch, but dancing with him at the first ball of the season was a tad too far. You did not want to be making a statement for yourself by befriending Jaehyun’s company.
The ladies would assume you held no dignity for yourself and the gentlemen would be appalled by your association with him.
“I have already promised my first dance with Lord Lee,” you lied through your teeth. You knew Donghyuck would not mind dancing with you just to save you from Jaehyun. “I shall see you around, Lord Jeong.”
If you had known better, you would have caught the dejected expression on Jaehyun’s face after you refused him. But all you could remember from that night was his teasing smirk and the playful lilt in his voice as he mocked you.
—
Your memories of Jaehyun do not assure you in the slightest that your parents have made the right decision.
Yerim comes over the next morning after the news of your forced marriage, soothing your cries with warm pastries and fresh tea. She rubs your back while you lay in bed, moaning for your misfortune.
“It is not that horrible,” she says in an attempt to pacify you. “At least he is good looking.”
You blink up at her. “Are you serious? I hardly care about his looks, Yerim! He is deplorable! He does not have a single redeeming quality. My mother wants to ruin my life, I am positive about that fact. How could any other suitor ever want me again once I have been tainted by Jeong Jaehyun?”
She chews on her lower lip. “I know you are not fond of him, but he may not say the same for you.”
Her statement has you peeking over your pillow, curious to hear more. She catches your gaze and exhales sharply.
“Have you ever noticed that he attends events when he knows you plan to be there? Or how he talks about you to everyone who will listen? He may have a reputation for being a rake, but you are the only lady he has asked to dance with since our first season.”
The information slowly dawns on you, but Yerim must be imagining things. Jaehyun has never felt any real romantic feelings towards you. You remain faithful that you share this conviction with him.
You shake your head. “He is deluding you as well. Trust me, Yerim, I know where Jaehyun’s true feelings lie.”
She eventually helps you get out of bed and you fail to exchange a single word with your mother while you break your fast. Yerim nudges for you to say the first word but you refuse.
Your mother only acknowledges your presence later in the night when you are due to be escorted to your first public appearance with Jaehyun.
“You are not dressed.”
You brush your hair in front of the mirror, humming softly to yourself. Yerim left to prepare herself in her own home, but you wish she had stayed to help you fight this battle with your mother.
“That is because I am not going.”
“Whatever game this is that you are playing, I do not find it amusing in the slightest. Lord Jeong will be here within the next hour and I expect you to welcome him downstairs with a proper gown and your best smile.”
As your handmaidens help you into your dress, they exchange knowing glances with each other until you grow tired of their mind games.
“May I inquire what has piqued your interest?” You ask in a bored tone.
Seulgi, your handmaiden of over five years, smiles gently at you. She has been dressing you since your first season, and is very aware how irritated you can get during times like these.
“The staff have just been discussing, Miss, since your mother announced your plans for engagement. We have been in communication with the staff employed at Lord Jeong’s household.”
You perk up slightly. “Is that so? And what have you discovered?”
Seulgi beams at you. “Lord Jeong is positively delighted by your coupling. The staff has never seen him more alert. He has been placing orders for brand new decor for your wing of the house and has requested for his staff to research your favorite delicacies to stock the cupboards. It is quite endearing.”
You frown. Jaehyun has wormed his way into the minds of your handmaidens too. His ability to manipulate others should honestly be lauded.
“How sweet of him,” you say through gritted teeth, holding back your true feelings. Although they spend more time with you, your handmaidens are employed by your mother, which means anything you say in front of them could be parroted back to her.
You devise a plan while they continue to adorn you in jewelry and work at pinning up your hair. If you could get Jaehyun to call off this marriage, you are certain his mother would relent. Your cries may go unanswered because you are simply a woman who was born into the right family, but Jaehyun will run his own household after he is married, which means he has superiority over his mother’s decisions.
You hear his voice filter from up the stairs when you walk out of your room.
“It is honestly my pleasure, madam. Your daughter is a gift that I promise to treasure.”
You huff. Where does he keep pulling these lines from?
As you walk down the steps, you take in the scene unfolding in your foyer. Your parents are speaking to Jaehyun with radiating smiles, laughing at every little thing he says. His mother stands closely behind him, joining in on the laughter with a chuckle here and there.
When your heel hits the last step, they turn to you. For the first time, you identify the twinkle in Jaehyun’s eye that tells you he’s excited to see you.
Could Yerim be right? Does Jeong Jaehyun like you?
“There she is,” your mother says, tugging you over and pretending she wasn’t upset with you an hour ago. “She is beautiful, is she not, Lord Jeong?”
“Stunning,” he whispers, and you desperately want to punch him in the face.
“Let us head out, shall we? We do not want to run late,” you say, itching to remove yourself from the spotlight. Jaehyun nods in agreement, outstretching his arm for you to take it, and you reluctantly wrap your fingers around his bicep. You lead the way to the carriage waiting outside, murmuring loudly under your breath so Jaehyun can hear you. “You are so dead to me, Jeong.”
He helps you into your carriage, and you don’t miss the pained look in his eyes as he forces a smile onto his face.
—
Jaehyun never wanted to fall in love.
He has witnessed enough of his friends losing their sanity over the matter, finding themselves on the receiving end of their mother’s meddling into their lives. Some of them have found happiness while the others have settled for what they were given.
Although Jaehyun is the only child and he knows he must marry to continue his lineage, he never imagined he would marry for love. He would likely find a well-bred lady, one who would simply finish her duty in childbearing and leave him alone otherwise.
Before tying himself to her, he desired a little recklessness in his life. He tugged on the heartstrings of the ladies in the ton and stopped by brothels when he was searching for something quick and fast. It earned him a reputation but he hardly cared about what other noble families thought of him. He knew at the end of the day, they prioritized the wealth of his estate far more than his outside trysts, which means he would have no issue in securing a wife when he wanted to.
He really was not intending on taking an interest in you.
His mother had educated him on the ladies of his season, so he knew a little of your background. You are also the only child in your family, but being born a daughter means you must get married to receive an ounce of your father’s wealth. Still, this fact never seems to spur you on in your quest for a husband. He has noticed other ladies approach him quite confidently yet you stay sidelined at every ball, waiting for the gentlemen to come to you, even though you refuse most of their offers to dance.
And he shall admit that your adamant refusal to dance with him has him intrigued.
Although the other ladies are appalled by his reputation, they remain courteous enough to accept a dance or two, mingling with him when they see fit. Since his first season, Jaehyun has made it his own personal mission to get you to join him on the floor, come hell or high water.
He just never expected forcing you to marry him as being the catalyst for you to adhere to his wishes.
“You shall tell your mother that you want to call this marriage off,” you say as soon as the swell of the music starts and you take to the floor.
He takes a step towards you with a raised eyebrow. “And why would I do that?”
“Because I am positively certain I will make your life a living hell if I become your wife. You may not favor me now, but you shall surely detest me once I am finished with you.”
But as you twirl around the floor, he fails to find his voice to tell you that he does not harbor any hatred for you at all. You may play those parts in public and it may be true for you, but Jaehyun has never thought of you as the chip on his shoulder.
The rest of the ton stares at you with wide eyes, whispering to one another about the sudden closeness between you.
“Is marrying me such a stain on your character? What, am I not on par with the likes of Kim Jungwoo and Johnny Suh?”
It infuriated him to no end when Jungwoo was courting you. The man did not even know a single thing about you! He was lured in by your pretty face, and Jaehyun snickered to himself when Jungwoo soon discovered that you have an independent mind, judging the man whenever he uttered the wrong thing. Jaehyun was over the moon when Jungwoo ended your courtship.
Johnny, however, was a player that Jaehyun was not expecting. The man was tall, handsome, and could definitely handle your sharp edges better than Jungwoo. Jaehyun worried that you two would actually marry so he shipped himself off for a vacation to avoid seeing you walk down the aisle. He was content when he returned home and learned you were still single.
“Marrying you would tarnish my reputation. I cannot imagine the other ladies respecting the woman who ties herself to the world’s most infamous rake.”
He falters at the insult from you. When his mother had approached him with the idea to marry you, she expected him to swiftly turn it down, so it came as a surprise that he accepted the deal fairly quickly. He honestly could not stand the thought of you marrying the boring Kim Doyoung. The man would not understand how to entertain you, how to keep you on your toes and humor you.
He would never say it out loud, but the prospect of you becoming his wife satisfied him. He could already picture you running his estate with an iron fist, organizing the awful ledgers he has to sort through and checking if each member of the staff is well taken care of.
He wants it. He wants to wake up next to you. He wants to dance with you when there is no one else around. He wants to bury himself into you, listen to your sweet little moans as he tangles a hand through your hair-
He shakes his head to ward away the lewd thoughts threatening to crawl forward. The music slowly comes to a lull, and before he can stop you, you are darting out of his grasp and heading towards the balcony.
He sees your mother attempt to follow you but he stops her with the raise of his hand. He shadows you, keeping his eyes trained on the floral pattern of your gown.
He stops when you saunter out, slamming the doors shut behind you as you lean over the railing to catch your breath. He observes you silently, watching as you sigh and run your fingers through your hair, taking it out of its neat updo.
He waits a little before joining you in the open space.
“I did not realize I would become such a burden for you,” he whispers as you stand side by side.
You scowl at him. “How did you think I would react? Did you think I would jump into your arms and you would carry me off into the sunset?”
“You hate all of the gentlemen in the ton. You have to concede to this fact. And I understand I am not better than the rest of them, but you know me. I would never bend your will or coerce you into submission. You will be free to do as you please, I will not prevent you from your happiness.”
“But you are preventing me! Does this not register with you? I do not want to marry you. You must feel the same way, do you not?”
He hesitates, and the brief second seems to confirm your answer. You exhale and your hands tighten their grip on the railing.
“How long?” You ask in a small voice.
He swallows. “I do not know.”
“I cannot marry you, Jaehyun.”
“I shall inform my mother of your decision tonight. I apologize for causing you grief.”
You spin and saunter back into the ballroom, leaving Jaehyun’s heart crumpled into a mess on the floor.
—
Jaehyun plans to escape his troubles by embarking on a year-long vacation.
Perhaps it is enough time to move on from you, to stop worrying about you all the time and wondering who you might be with. His announcement to the staff about ending your engagement before it has even come to life has his mother in tears. They were instructed to halt all preparations for your wing of the estate and to eat whatever stock of food they had purchased for you.
He’s barely holding himself together as he packs up his things, intent on leaving and not coming back until he is ready to face high society again.
“Lord Jeong, you have a visitor at the door.”
“I am fairly occupied,” he says without missing a beat, grabbing any article of clothing he can find and throwing it into his suitcase.
But then they tell him that you are the one waiting by the door, and that has his feet moving swiftly.
You are fidgeting in the foyer, squirming as members of his household staff walk around you, carrying pieces of the decor that was meant for your bedroom.
“Lord Jeong,” you say with a curtsy, and his eyebrows furrow from the contrast of your behavior last night to today.
“How may I help you?” He asks coldly, desperately wanting to distance himself from you. You never make any task easy for him.
“I wanted to continue our conversation.”
“I did not think there was much more to say. You made your feelings very clear.”
“May we speak in private?”
He guides you into his office, leaving the door open an inch in an effort not to compromise you. You clear your throat once you are alone.
“I have thought it over and have decided to accept your proposal.”
He narrows his eyes. “You have decided to accept? Forgive me, but the last time we spoke, you distinctly voiced your opposition to marrying me. What has changed?”
You look away, your mouth twisting in the way it does when you are particularly peeved by him.
“You are right,” you admit begrudgingly. “I do not like any of the gentlemen in the ton, and I fear I never will. At least with you, I shall still have my freedom and get my mother off my back. I cannot stand another season of this — the balls, the dresses, the constant dancing. I am tired and I just want to live.”
The tension in his shoulders starts to fade. It is not exactly what he wants to hear, but he will take your acceptance if it means he does not have to leave for a year just to forget you.
“So we are carrying through with this?”
You purse your lips. “I cannot fall in love with you. Not in the way you want me to.”
He nods. “T-That is perfectly fine. I was not expecting you to.”
“And we will forgo childbearing until it is absolutely necessary.”
“That sounds plausible.”
“And Yerim is allowed to come over whenever it suits her.”
“Of course.”
You chew on your bottom lip and he resists the urge to take it in between his teeth.
“Where is my ring?”
He blinks twice. “Forgive me?”
“My ring. You must have one picked out.”
He pats his pockets but blanches when he realizes he’s not carrying his mother’s ring with him.
“Can you wait here for a second?”
He sprints upstairs to his mother’s room, startling her handmaidens when he pounds on her door. She opens it with wide eyes.
“Jaehyun, what-”
“Where is your ring?” He asks breathlessly. “The one that father gave you?”
“In my jewelry box. Why?”
“May I have it? Now? Please?”
She fumbles around to look for it, and Jaehyun bounces on the balls of his feet while he waits, fearful that if he does not get that ring on your finger, you shall disappear through the front door and he will never see you again. As soon as his mother hands him the band, he runs back down to his office, relieved when he sees you still standing by the window.
He drops to one knee in front of you and you stare back at him, unamused. He decides to skip the speech in case you change your mind, slipping the ring on your finger as you admire the diamond sparkling in the light.
“It is beautiful,” you murmur, and he thanks the heavens for your approval. You lower your hand as you state, “I shall not attend another lousy ball just for show. We shall wed as soon as we can and negotiate the details after.”
Like a puppy chasing after its tail, he submits to your every request, dreaming of you and him under one roof.
—
The next week is chaos in the Jeong household.
Members of the staff rush left and right, preparing themselves for a wedding they thought had been called off. The favorite gossip of the ton have been surrounding your wedding, pertaining to why you were getting married this quickly, how you went from despising one another to falling in love, and if tying the knot would finally promote Jaehyun from being a rake to a proper lord.
Jaehyun is keen to sit back and watch it all unfold. He has barely seen you as you have been wrapped up in dress fittings and moving your belongings into his home.
It is only the night before your wedding that you rush to his office in a panicked state.
He is startled when the door swings open and you stand there in nothing but your nightgown. You hold a candle in your hand as you scurry to his side.
“What-” he starts, wondering what could be troubling you.
“My mother has divulged to me what a husband is meant to do to his wife on the night of their wedding. I shall inform you that I do not approve of such indiscretions, if that was not made clear before.”
His cheeks flush red when it dawns on him what you must be referring to. Yes, he has conjured up many fantasies late at night, but he never assumed you would willingly lie with him on your first night together as husband and wife.
“Y-Yes, that is understood.”
“Furthermore, I shall not become the wife who sits idly by while you run to a brothel to satisfy your needs. You shall only lie with me, when I feel I am prepared and ready to accept you.”
He leans back in his seat, one eyebrow raised. “Do you think so low of me that I would disrespect you in such a public fashion?”
You huff. “Jaehyun, I am astonished that you have not done so already.”
He narrows his eyes. Before he can retort, the door bursts wide open again and your handmaiden comes rushing in.
“I apologize profusely, Lord Jeong!” She cries. “We were not made aware of her destination. You are not meant to see her like this-”
“You do not need to apologize to him, Seulgi,” you interject with a sigh. “And he shall learn to see all sides of me soon enough.”
Your handmaiden stutters for a response but you poke your finger at Jaehyun with a stern gaze.
“Do not dare forget what I said.”
“How can I when you come traipsing through here in the middle of the night, disturbing me before the biggest day of our lives?”
You exit with a dramatic flair, slamming the doors behind you as your handmaiden follows after. He slumps in his chair, exhausted and wondering how far he has to go to earn your trust.
His mother wakes him the next morning bright and early, chirping happily for the marriage she has waited years for. He readies himself on his own, pulling on his stuffy suit and tie. He thinks about how you must be faring with the glitz and glamour.
His mother and yours had invited almost the entire population of the city to the wedding. People that Jaehyun has never met in his life greet him at the chapel, congratulating him for the momentous occasion. He thanks them with a nervous smile, worried if you will actually show up at the end of the aisle.
Thankfully, when the music plays and the doors open, you step out, dressed in a long, satin white gown. He loses his breath when he looks at you, the picture perfect beauty of a bride. You hesitate under the scrutiny of the ton’s gazes, tightening your grip around your father’s arm.
Jaehyun inhales and exhales slowly. His heart is beating so hard that he can hear the thumping echo in his ears. He can hardly believe this day has come, and even more so that you agreed to marry him.
You must be running through the same thought process, for when your father hands you over to Jaehyun, you stare at him wide eyed. He takes your hand in his, soothing you by running his thumb over the back of your wrist. It unwinds you a little when you stand in front of the priest.
The priest drones on and on about eternal love and the sacred vow between husband and wife. Jaehyun keeps his eyes trained on you, watching you from the corner of his eye to ensure you are faring well.
When you turn to him to seal your lips in a kiss, his heart stops beating.
“Breathe,” he whispers just before his mouth touches yours. He can feel you trembling in his hold.
“Why do they have to keep looking at us?” You murmur.
“Because you are too pretty for them to look away.”
“You are full of it, Lord Jeong.”
His tongue traces over your bottom lip before he can stop himself. A couple’s first kiss at their wedding should be a light peck, something God would approve of.
Jaehyun does not give a damn what God thinks.
There is a small gasp in the audience when his tongue slips into your mouth. You arch into him, calm for the first time in hours.
When you break away, you blink up at him, and his curiosity flares up. Did it feel good for you too?
The crowd erupts in applause and you step away from him, smiling shyly at them. Jaehyun kicks into autopilot, walking you back down the aisle as you laugh with the people surrounding you.
When you are escorted into the gardens for your reception, he swallows.
“Well, it is over.”
You purse your lips. “Y-Yes. That kiss was-”
Your mother comes around the corner, crying as she envelops you in a hug. You pat her back awkwardly as she sobs.
“Oh, darling, I am so happy for you! So, so happy!”
Then Jaehyun’s mother mobs him, cooing about how handsome he looks. You find yourselves on opposite ends of the large space, controlling the flock of people who demand to know the next steps of your marriage.
Jaehyun fields questions left and right that are clearly an invasion of his privacy.
“How many children do you two want to have?”
“I think the best time to start making babies is right after the wedding. It’s when your hormones are at their peak. Do you not agree, Lord Jeong?”
“My theory is that you should lock yourselves away for at least two months so the seed will sprout and grow. Does that not sound wonderful?”
By the time he finds his way back to you, you both are worse for wear.
“Lord Jeong, Lady Jeong!”
You grab Jaehyun’s hand and sprint into the hedge maze. He tries not to trip over your skirt as you weave through the walls of the garden, catching your breath once you find yourselves trapped in the middle.
“They are incessant vultures!” You hiss, ripping the veil from your hair and tossing it to the side. “I mean, honestly. Who granted them the authority to decide when and how I should have a child?”
“Lady Baek almost gave me advice on how her husband gets it up! As if I need to hear such disturbing counsel regarding a man about to turn seventy!” He grunts.
You shudder. “We shall camp out here until they have all grown too tired to stick around. What was my mother thinking when she invited that many people?”
You collapse on the ground together, paying no mind to the grass stains covering your dress or the dirt coating the bottom of his pants. You listen to the steady sound of each other’s breathing, grateful to be away from the incessant noise.
He clears his throat. “What were you saying earlier? About the kiss?”
You cough. “Oh, um, nothing. It was merely surprising, that is all.”
“Sorry if I did not live up to your expectations.”
“That was not what I meant,” you mumble, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. “I hardly expected you to kiss me so… passionately. In all of the weddings I have attended, the groom never devours his bride like that.”
“I did not devour you,” he corrects, flustered by your accusation.
A moment passes before you burst into a fit of laughter. He should be mad with you, but when he glances over to see you giggling into your palm, he finds the corners of his lips lifting upwards.
You settle into your harmonious laughter for a few minutes, riding on the blissful cloud of your new marriage. He did not think it had become such a huge burden on his shoulders, but he is relieved he no longer has to deal with mingling in crowded ballrooms, debating on whether he should ask you to dance or leave entirely.
The recollection has him springing to his feet. You stare up at him in confusion when he holds out his hand.
“Join me.”
“You cannot be serious, Jaehyun.”
He clicks his tongue. “I obliged to all of your rules. Come here and dance with me.”
You grumble as he helps pull you up. Once you are in his arms, he wraps a hand around your waist, holding you steady as you rest your hand on his shoulder.
The moonlight dances over your features and he swears he has never seen a sight more beautiful.
“Yerim was telling me something the other day that I found interesting,” you say.
He quirks up an eyebrow. “What did she say?”
“That you only attend balls when I am present. And that you will speak about me to anyone who will listen.”
“Do not let it go to your head,” he teases weakly.
You do not allow him to escape that easily because evidently, you love to embarrass him at any given chance.
“How long, Jaehyun?”
He thinks about the night out on the balcony when you were asking him this question with the intention to break his heart and never return.
“A long time,” he confesses. “Likely when we first met.”
You shake your head. “Why? Why me? Out of all the women in the ton-”
“The rest of the women in the ton could never hold a candle to you,” he swears, looking deep into your eyes, hoping you memorize every word. “I know you think of me as a reckless rake who will insert myself into any woman’s bed, but you must know how devoted I am to you. You are the only person I find myself laughing with, the only person who can keep up with me and drive me insane all at once. I dream of you. I understand this marriage is all a means to an end to you, but you are the only lady I have ever wanted.”
He nearly chokes when you pounce on him, smashing your lips together until he’s stumbling back into the hedges. His hands rest on your hips as you chase after him.
Your tongues fight for dominance and he realizes just how hungry he is. He has been holding himself back to preserve your dignity, but with God as his witness, you are now his wife and he gets to make you writhe in pleasure if it is his sole desire.
He bunches up your skirt, slipping his hand underneath the mountains of fabric. He growls when your corset gets in the way of the prize he really wants.
“Get this off,” he hisses, tugging at the tight strands that hug your bodice.
“Our mothers will come looking for us,” is all you can reply with.
“I do not care,” he says. “I need you.”
But a gasp interrupts your fervent entanglement. You jump apart to see his mother standing in front of you, appalled by the sight of you two.
“Jeong Jaehyun, I raised you to be a gentleman!” She scolds, approaching you and helping you look presentable again. You avoid her glare. “You both need a lesson in understanding what is acceptable for you to do in public. Just because you are married does not give you the right to behave like animals!”
She tugs you away with a huff, and Jaehyun’s head crashes against the hedge, his cock aching to be stuffed inside you.
—
You are avoiding your husband.
You do not know what has gotten into you. At first, you were loathing the creature you were forced to marry, hoping one day he would magically incinerate and you could avoid having to call him your husband. But then he was confessing to you, telling you everything a lady has always wanted to hear.
It is the first time you have ever experienced the spark of attraction to a gentleman. It is the first time you became content in getting married. It is the first time you felt… desire.
But you are not supposed to let Jeong Jaehyun get the best of you. You hide away in the daytime at Yerim’s home, brushing off her probing questions.
“It’s your honeymoon. Should you not be at home?”
You smile tightly at her. “And miss spending time with you? Of course not. Now, tell me all about Na Jaemin.”
You do not return back to the Jeong estate until supper, where you have a tense gathering with your husband across the dining table. True to his word, Jaehyun refuses to touch you until you initiate it first, which is driving you both mad with insatiable lust.
“How was your day with Yerim?” He asks stiffly, spooning soup into his mouth.
“G-Good. Sir Na has taken a liking to her. He lives in the countryside, however, and I selfishly do not want her to move away if they are to be betrothed.”
“Yes, it might be quite terrible if you were left alone in the presence of your husband with nowhere to flee.”
You narrow your eyes. “If you are insinuating something, Jaehyun, then please do not subject me to your mind games. I would rather you speak the truth.”
He smiles devilishly. “You first.”
You keep your mouth sealed shut for the rest of the meal. Even when you prepare yourselves to climb into bed together, your bedroom is filled with such unspeakable tension that you could cut with a knife.
You occupy yourself by opening a book, observing from the corner of your eye as Jaehyun turns on his side and blows his candle out. You tap your nails against the hardcover, blurting out your next statement before you can stop yourself.
“You never told me about your day.”
He muses over how to reply before he states, “I was lonely, craving a wife who wants nothing to do with me.”
You pout like a child. “I told you I am not going to fall in love with you.”
“I remember.”
It’s summer when Yerim and Jaemin get engaged. Yerim’s mother is so thrilled that she hosts a celebration party, where you and Jaehyun attend arm-in-arm, pretending to be civil with one another. You are bombarded with an onslaught of questions pertaining to how your marriage is faring, and if the ton can expect a new baby boy or girl to arrive any day now.
You stick with the excuse of, “We are trying,” to get them to go away.
Yerim pulls you aside to her bedchamber later that night, smiling widely. The joy in her expression has not left her face all night, and it comforts you to know she will be taken care of in the countryside, despite being so far from you.
“What a night!” She exclaims, falling on her mattress in glee. “I have never been this happy before, I swear it to you.”
“I can tell,” you laugh, patting her knee. “It satisfies me to know Jaemin has you this giddy.”
She chews her lip when she sits up, and she has the expression on her face that screams she has a secret.
“Can I tell you something? In the confidence of our friendship?”
“Of course,” you say, sitting next to her on the bed.
She twiddles her thumbs, clearly thrumming with nervousness. “The other day, Jaemin and I were alone.”
You gasp. “Yerim! You are not supposed to be with him unchaperoned until after you are wed!”
Her cheeks bloom a bright shade of red. “We did a lot of things we are supposed to do after we are wed.”
Your curiosity gets the better of you, and the prompt scolding you are about to give her dies down in your throat.
“W-What did he do?”
“Amazing things,” she exhales dreamily. “Do you know how good it feels when they put their mouth… down there?”
“Yerim!” You say, scandalized.
She giggles. “So you and Jaehyun still have not-”
“No,” you confirm with the shake of your head. “No, we have not. And we will not until we absolutely need to.”
She nudges your shoulder. “He is your husband now, you know. Not a rake who is looking to bed you just because he can.”
You clear your throat and rise from your spot on the bed. “We should head back downstairs. People might be searching for you.”
She’s slightly downcast by your quick dismissal but follows you without protest. You are warm from the brief discussion, imagining what Jaehyun would look like nestled in between your thighs, staring up at you with unadulterated hunger.
The vision abruptly leaves your mind once you land on the last step, spotting your husband being flanked by Sooyoung, a girl he used to be very friendly with. She is giggling at him, her hand caressing his bicep as she hangs off his every word.
You freeze, your throat growing dry at your husband openly flirting with another lady in front of you. In Jaehyun’s defense, he does not seem to be paying any attention to her, his eyes fluttering around the room.
When he finds you, you dart towards the exit, ignoring both Yerim and Jaehyun’s cries of your name. As you request for your carriage to be brought forward, a hand wraps around your wrist.
“You have made assumptions.”
You tear your hand away from Jaehyun with a glare. “I hardly care who you speak to. I am going home, the party’s over.”
He growls your name and the staff lingering nearby pretend to look disinterested.
“Do not behave like this.”
Once your carriage rolls up, you climb in, refusing Jaehyun’s help. You try to close the door behind you but your husband pushes his way inside, preventing you from making your dramatic escape.
“I do not possess any feelings for Sooyoung,” he sighs. “I never have.”
“I do not care! I am merely humiliated by the fact that you would display your affection for her in front of everyone! I know those people, Jaehyun, and I strictly told you before we were married that I would not become the wife who would stand idly by while her husband is wrapped up in an affair!”
“I am not in an affair!” You are both screaming too loud to hide your troubles from the outside. “I have never had an affair. I am devoted to you! I dream of you! How many times must I say this to you? Sooyoung approached me, asking me how I have been. I told her I was not interested in her folly and I was waiting for your return. What took you so long with Yerim anyways?”
You are riled up with anger and frustration. “She was educating me about how a proper husband takes care of his wife. Tell me, did you ever get on your knees for Sooyoung? Did you press your mouth in between her thighs?”
His eyebrows raise to his hairline, clearly not expecting you to quip back with that. You fold your arms across your chest, pouting and refusing to look at him.
You gasp when his hands suddenly pull up your dress and he sinks to his knees. You back yourself up against the wall of the carriage.
“Jaehyun, what are you doing?” You hiss.
“If you wanted to know what it feels like, you could have just asked.”
You glance around worriedly but the carriage still moves on, and the drapery covering the windows protects anyone from the outside to witness your husband wiggling his way underneath your dress.
You do not stop him, interested in how determined he is to prove himself to you. Your fingertips dart out to hold the sides of the carriage when his lips graze over your core.
You cup a hand over your mouth to keep your moans at bay. You have never dared to touch yourself in your most sensitive area. It’s unseemly for a lady of your status, and you feel as if you shall be damned to hell if you ever crossed that line.
But Jaehyun is your husband, so this must be allowed in heaven, right?
You lurch forward when his tongue runs over your folds. You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to lick at your dripping cunt. He laps at you as if you are his next meal and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You are entirely too sensitive that you could cry, your body shuddering as Jaehyun buries himself deeper into your pussy.
The carriage comes to a halt as you sob, your hands tangling into his hair as your peak washes over you. When he pops his head back up, he’s grinning with your slick covering his chin.
“How was it, my dear wife?”
“Get inside the house.”
The staff are flustered when you scramble past them. Jaehyun’s hands dig into the flesh of your waist as he leads you inside, dismissing the staff by hoisting you up on the singular table in the foyer, knocking down his mother’s favorite vase.
You bring his mouth to yours as the spark inside you bursts into flames. Months of tension finally unravel as he pushes your thighs apart, slotting himself in until he’s rolling down into your core.
“Jaehyun,” you whine. “Please.”
“Did Yerim tell you what men can do with their fingers?” He asks, his bottom lip dragging over your jawline.
“N-No.”
You squeak when he unlaces your corset, practically ripping it in half in his efforts to peel it off of you. His mouth is drawn to the swell of your breasts, taking your exposed nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud.
A maid comes from around the corner at the sound of the broken glass from the vase, but she chokes when she sees her employers dangling off a tiny table, enraptured in one another.
When he slips a finger inside you, you’re driven wild with lust. None of the noble lords and ladies would recognize you if they saw you now, encouraging your husband to use his teeth while sucking at your breasts and begging him to stuff more fingers inside your cunt.
“Dear God,” you sob when his thumb circles at your clit.
You have never felt pleasure like this in your entire life. Is this why women get married? Is this why they subject themselves to uncomfortable corsets and boring dances?
“You like it, do you not?” He questions in a mocking tone, hovering over you with a darkened gaze. “Imagine how we could have had this months ago if you had only swallowed your pride. Falling in love with me does not sound so horrifying anymore, does it?”
His teeth sink into the juncture of your neck as you chant his name. You cum when he inserts another digit inside your wet hole, curling his fingers forward, causing you to feel boneless in his grasp.
“I will not have our first time be like this,” he says, licking his fingers clean and carrying you in his arms.
“The bedroom is too far,” you reply, wanting to jump his bones immediately.
He chuckles. “You made me wait months. I think you can handle a few minutes.”
The room is spotless when you walk in, making you feel slightly guilty for ruining the staff’s hard work. But then Jaehyun drops you on the mattress and unlaces his breeches, and your focus hones in on his lower half. Your vision grows heavy when he reveals himself.
You never quite understood what gentlemen were packing down there, but you surely never would have guessed this. His member is long, thick, and veiny, startling you when he wraps a hand around his base.
“W-What are you planning to do with that?”
He laughs. “My wife, this is meant to go inside you.”
Your brain stops working for a second. He senses your hesitance, smiling playfully as he leans over you, kissing you gently.
“I shall take it slow. It shall feel good once you get used to the stretch.”
“Do you promise?” You say timidly.
He nods. “It helps that you are already so wet.” You scoff when he swipes his fingers over the wetness coating your thighs. He kisses every inch of exposed skin he can find, helping you loosen up to take his massive cock. “It is going to hurt the first time, but I swear it will get easier.”
“Who said we would be doing this again?” You inquire.
His chuckle vibrates against the shell of your ear. “Trust me. We shall definitely do this again.”
He lines himself up to your entrance, distracting you with a kiss. You never believed kissing could be worthwhile, but you find that you do not mind the act at all when it comes to your husband.
But Christ, is he trying to split you in half?
“Hurts,” you whimper as he gradually pushes in.
He stops immediately. “Do you want me to pull out?”
You shake your head. “No, no. Just… make it feel better.”
“You like it when I touch you here,” he says, returning his thumb to your clit, rubbing the nub in slow circles.
You close your eyes, powering through the overwhelming pain with the small windows of pleasure. Jaehyun does not appear to be experiencing the same issues, gritting his teeth when he bottoms out.
“You are squeezing me too tightly,” he groans. “Ease up a little, wife. I am going to finish before we have truly started.”
“I cannot! You are intent in destroying me!” You retort.
“Fuck,” he curses, dropping his head to rest between your neck and shoulder. “Tell me when I should start moving.”
“Moving?” You pale. “Is this not the entire thing?”
“I thought your mother explained this to you the night before our wedding?”
“She never discussed the specifics!”
His hands cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. You blink back the tears threatening to spill and he smiles at you, assuring you that everything is going to be okay.
“Do you trust me? You must trust me a little at this point.”
“A little,” you grumble. “Don’t push your luck.”
He moves to sit on his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders and holding them in place while he thrusts into you. Initially, he’s apologizing for the pain, but you slowly adjust to his size and your wetness begins to emit a thwacking sound against the flesh of his thighs.
Moans spill out of your mouth before you can stop them.
“That is it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”
You would not think that Jaehyun’s praise would have such an effect upon you. You are whining for him as his cock batters into your pussy, staining the sheets with the mix of your wetness.
“I shall not last,” he says through bated breaths. “You are squeezing me too tightly.”
Moments later, he spills into you, filling you with the warmth of his cum. He withdraws himself to replace his length with his fingers, swirling them inside your cunt until you are falling over the edge of your third climax.
He collapses next to you, his chest rising up and down. You gaze at him shyly.
“So when shall the baby come?”
He smiles at you. “It normally does not take the first time. We have to keep trying until you feel the babe start to grow.”
You narrow your eyes. “You are surely making that up.”
He winks. “Trust me. We shall practice until you acquire a taste for it.”
—
You and Jaehyun apologize profusely to the staff the next day for your behavior, but they simply smile and tell you to work hard in your baby making efforts.
You are both startled when you approach the breakfast table to see his mother sitting there, sipping on her morning cup of tea.
“M-Mother?” Jaehyun stutters. “What are you doing here? I thought you were away handling matters of the estate.”
She smiles knowingly at you, and you slink behind your husband’s back, feeling like a child who has been scolded for eating too many treats.
“I wanted to check in on you. I arrived last night.”
“Last night?” You and Jaehyun both question in shock.
You recall his messy display of fingering you in the foyer for everyone to witness. Did his mother see her son ravaging you? Did she watch you fall apart under his touch?
Her grin seems to convey your answer. She gestures to the chairs beside her.
“Come and sit. I want to hear all about my future grandchild.”
You return to your bedchamber after breakfast feeling mortified. Jaehyun tries to soothe your worries with a gentle hand at your back.
“It is very normal for a husband and wife to be intimate.”
“Not for a lady to expose herself in front of her mother-in-law and the staff!”
He winces. “I am certain that they found the scene to be arousing, if anything.”
You dig your head into the pillows, pouting. “You fail at lifting up my spirits.”
You feel him peppering kisses over your shoulder, his hands wandering where they should not be. You try to swat them away but he whines in your ear.
“She already knows about us anyway. Let me have a little fun.”
You turn on your side to face him, grazing your fingers over his cheek. You hate that Yerim was right — your husband is very handsome.
“When I said I would never fall in love-”
“It is fine. I understand.”
“No, no,” you correct, tracing his jawline. “I was going to say that I think I could. If you give me enough time and if you do not act like an insufferable rake, I could see myself loving you.”
He smirks. “I am quite flattered.”
You roll your eyes. “Can you do that thing with your mouth again?”
“Happy to oblige, wife.”
this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!
anon : Just want to req something abt like an exchange Filipino student reader at uconn and taking a manager position in the wbb team🙈 possibly taking a liking towards pb?
i hope you guys liked this! I tried my best 🙇🏾♀️it is kinda fast paced tho 1.7k words for this one and no warnings this time 🙏🏽sorry for taking so long on this request anon! If you guys have any requests or anything you want to talk about, my asks are open! 🫶🏽
.𖥔 ݁ ˖☘︎ ݁˖˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𖥔 ݁ ˖
The shine from the morning hue passed through the curtain and that alone made you groan in frustration. You used all your strength to push yourself upwards, leaving the warmth that the blanket gave you.
Getting ready went by in a flash, the walk from your dorm to the campus was a breath of fresh air. You never expected that living in Storrs would look like a movie, well except for school.
Realizing the large gap between schools here in the USA and the Philippines was as big as the red sea. Schedules were more flexible here, rather than back in the Philippines.
Taking a Bachelor in Sports Management was the dream, yet a nightmare if you had taken it back home. Your passion lies with sports, it has always been your dream to be in the industry—be part of the sports backbone.
So after every class since you've got here at UCONN, you tend to your responsibilities as the women's basketball team as their manager.
It was every UCONN Women's basketball team fan's dream, and you were living in it. It had only been a few weeks—the team was very welcoming when you and other fellow students accepted to be part of their management team.
But those few weeks, a certain blue eyed puppy made it lighter—made it feel like home. Paige Bueckers has been rocking the world ever since she was in high school. The golden girl.
You thought that social media just made her look like an angel, you were wrong. It was rare to meet people that were genuine, especially people that have lived most of their life with cameras around.
“Y/N, I'm gonna go pick up some food for us, do you want to come?” And that made your heart thump, not once, not twice—but every fucking time Paige was looking at you.
“Okay.” It was hard to act like she didn't make you stumble with your words, “Guys, do you need anything else?”
To at least try to fulfill some of your ‘manager’ duties, you turned to the team in case they needed something else to avoid further complications.
݁ .𖥔 ݁ ˖☘︎ ݁˖˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𖥔 ݁ ˖
The ride with Paige to Raising Cane's was quiet, except with sza playing in the background. “You okay?”
Breaking out of your trance, you nodded. “How's your knee? Any discomfort?”
After that injury scare from a previous scrimmage, you were assigned by Coach Geno to check up on Paige—knowing that she was stubborn as a slime stuck on a shirt.
“Mhmm. Concerned for me, Manager?”
You only shook your head with a laugh. “You suck.” was all you could manage as a rebuttal.
Paige could only muster up a funny and offended face after hearing that from you. “Sure..sure, like you weren't worrying your butt off after I fell.”
“I care for you, Paige” and that made you stop, your heart felt like it stopped beating for a second. You weren't able to stop yourself from saying those words—yet you didn't regret it. It was true.
“I care for you too, Y/N.” She replied casually, as she turned the wheel to park. Hands flexing when she maneuvered the car, you had to look away to stop oogling at Paige's arm.
On the way towards the restaurant felt like hours, fans stopping Paige for a picture or a signature—and the poor girl couldn't refuse her fans.
You stood on the sideline, admiring how people made the right person famous. Paige was everything that every parent would want as a child. Kind, selfless, genuine—lovable etc.
When the picture taking and signatures finished, Paige looked for you—and when her eyes finally landed on you, her smile graced her face again.
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
That made you chuckle, “You don't have to apologize.”
Now, both of you continued your journey to finally leave the parking lot. Sudden weight on your shoulders made you look up,
“Never thought a walk from the parking to the restaurant would take so long.”
Paige Bueckers had put her hands around your shoulders.
If you were in an anime, you were sure you were blushing fifty shades of red and pink right now.
“Clingy much?” You took a good look at Paige's sideview—and she looked ethereal.
“You’re comfortable.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖☘︎ ݁˖˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𖥔 ݁ ˖
After that long and excruciating minutes of driving to get food for the whole team, it was now over.
The whole team was digging in, surrounding the table that was filled with food. Seeing it made you nostalgic—remembering the times where you and your old classmates would gather funds to be able to feast together as a whole for school events.
It made you a bit teary-eyed, you’ve always underestimated homesickness—and now you were experiencing it first-hand.
While you were having an internal turmoil and breakdown inside your brain, Paige has quieted down.
She'd always notice the slight difference of your actions these past few weeks, she knows it must've been hard for you to leave everything behind in the Philippines.
So Paige being Paige, she'd move closer. Without any fuss, she lets you lean your head on her shoulders. Understanding the weight and pressure a person could carry.
And that what motivates Paige to at least help you lessen the feeling of being alone in a new world, her little actions that felt significant to you.
She learned and studied Filipino culture in her free time, trying to incorporate those in with the team to make you feel like you're part of the team.
Tried to cook adobo one time and accidentally added too much soy sauce—good thing you were there to the rescue. You both laughed, alone in her dorm’s kitchen. Not noticing the knowing stares and looks from her teammates.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖☘︎ ݁˖˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𖥔 ݁ ˖
Finally, after the regular season with only a few losses—the NCAA National Tournament has now begun. In the first round, you cheered the loudest and that fueled up Paige. Second round, she was heating up. The Sweet Sixteen, she passed her career high and dropped forty-four points on Oklahoma. Elite eight was against USC, many anticipated this match up—a bummer that Juju Watkins was able to play.
Now, Paige was continuing to play like she had something to prove. To prove to herself that she can win that national championship, and you were screaming your throughout on the sideline. And that action caught the media's attention.
‘That manager is so me.’
‘Who is she feeling?’
‘I would rip my vocal chord for Paige’
You didn't let that bother you, you didn't care about what people had to say. You were focused on supporting your team to finally show the world who they really are.
And that made Paige worry. Even though she wasn't active during the tournament since it was still on-going, people tend to talk and be loud.
You reassured Paige, every after game. You'd help the team with their needs, picking up their food, fixing and reminding them their schedule—most important, be there for them.
The final four was against UCLA, it was a tough match. Still, UCONN managed to stand back on their feet and finish with a win and a trip to the National Championship game.
The arena boomed. Fans of both UCONN and South Carolina filled up the stadium, both teams with their game face on. Ready to fight with their all, as the players walked towards the court—Paige turned around to you and gave you a big hug.
“You,” As Paige tightened her hug, “Thank you for being here with me, Y/N”
“Go prove them that Paige Bueckers will be a National Champion.”
With every bucket that the UCONN team makes, the bench would hype them up—it was the UCONN way. You don't cheer for yourself, you cheer for your team.
The Huskies had the lead, and Paige finally checked out of her final game as a Husky. An emotional hug with Coach Geno and the others, when she finally reached you—she smiled and snuggled her head into your shoulder.
“Just because you're a champ, doesn't mean that you can wipe your snot all over me, PB.”
You felt her laugh, and when she finally let go—you wiped her tears with your hands. That moment felt like you and Paige were alone in a packed and loud stadium.
As the seconds finally winded down to zero, the UCONN Huskies are now declared as National Champions. Next step? Draft.
You felt sad that Paige was now leaving Storrs, you only have a year left before you graduate—and possibly go back home to the Philippines.
A few days passed after winning the championship and a few celebratory parties with the team, you were lying down and a message notification popped up.
‘Are you busy next week?👀’
Paige. That brought a smile to your face. She had been busy packing her stuff and life into boxes, you tried helping her for a few days now—yet she still insisted that she and Drew would be able to finish it. It was her dad who did most of the packing.
And that message has led up to this day. Draft Night. And people sitting on the table was her Mom and Dad, Coach Geno, and you—beside Paige in that suit.
My gosh, she was gorgeous. No words were enough to describe how Paige looked tonight—and she knew. She knew that she looked gorgeous and pretty.
It was the very same night that Paige Bueckers became the #1 Draft pick to the Dallas Wings. Paige stood up, and you followed. You hugged her, not knowing if it was both of you and Paige’s last hug.
“I love you. I'm so proud of you, Paige.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
Draft night happened a few weeks ago, and communication with Paige slowly stopped. You understood that change can be overwhelming, so you offered her some encouragement and could only receive a ‘thank you’.
So, you let her be.
Before you knew it, it was already All-Star weekend. Expecting nothing on a random day, you opened TikTok to see the video that Wag talk has uploaded.
“Girlfriend reveal?”
“Azzi Fudd.”
And your heart stopped.
Sure, you were too cowardly to confess your feelings to Paige—but you thought that those moments, words, and actions that Paige had showcased to you meant something.
Apparently, you assumed wrong. Felt guilty for falling in love with Paige, when she was already with Azzi all this time. And the whole team knew, only you didn't.
Those moments you've shared together with Paige, the ‘I love you’s’ whispered every before and after the game. The lingering stares. ‘I miss you’s’ after not being in each other's presence for a few hours.
Was it casual now? Or is it because you assumed wrong?
warning: paige being a simp (inspired by her little moments with ms azzi fudd), bts mentioned!! (also inspired by mr. min yoongi being the nba ambassador) ⁷ 1.8k words and released this because we finally got azzi to show them haters that she IS the moment 😮💨
.𖥔 ݁ ˖☘︎ ݁˖˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𖥔 ݁ ˖
The arena was booming with both energy and anticipation, the pressure weighing on both Chicago Sky and Dallas Wings. The crowd was loud—seats were filled, then the lights dimmed.
Players from both teams were introduced, each name made fans cheer in excitement. Jumbatron showing the teams hype intro, as the starting five takes their position.
Honestly, Paige never felt more excited—yet still had the nerves. Was it because the stadium was filled?Cheers were louder than usual?
Shaking off her nerves and focused on locking in to secure the dub for their home game.
It was the first time out, commentators’ voices echoed throughout the whole arena. Introducing some familiar and famous names that has become a household name—and a certain introduction has halted Paige's focus during the huddle.
“And here we have some more big names inside the building,” The camera panned towards you, sitting courtside with a smile and a wave while rocking a Rickea Jackson to show support after the devastating news of tearing her ACL. “Miss Y/N, the WNBA'S Ambassador sitting courtside here today!”
“It is such an exciting year for the 30th season of the WNBA, with the expansion teams—Toronto Tempo and Portland Fire making a debut, and also having a new appointed ambassador for the W.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖☘︎ ݁˖˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𖥔 ݁ ˖
You didn't expect to be welcomed by cheers from fans after you were introduced. To start off, the WNBA league has personally asked you to become one of their ambassadors.
To you, being an ambassador felt like an honor. You've never thought that you'll be picked, you were not huge and big time like the NBA’s ambassador—Min Yoongi.
Then the buzzer rang, timeout has finished and players are back on the court to finally finish off the first half.
It was intense. The Sky and Wings took turns in taking the lead, it was obviously nerve-wracking for the players and fans.
Before you knew it, a ball and a certain blondie was launching towards you. Fortunately, you were able to dodge the incoming bodyslam—yet the Shirley temple in your hands wasn't.
“Oh fuck, I'm sorry about that.” A pair of blue eyes worriedly looking at you, “Are you hurt?”
Whistles blew, refs rushing to the scene, cleaners that immediately wiped the Shirley temple that spilled to the ground to avoid further accidents during the game.
“I’m okay! I should be asking you that you literally launched yourself like Superman.”
Players from both teams hurried to check if Paige was okay—who looked like a guilty kicked puppy, yet still held a bit of starstruck.
Yes, she had heard of you. Followed you on tiktok and instagram, she was a hardcore fan. Sadly, that moment had to end and the game continued.
After that incident, one of the media personnel and your manager had escorted you to the bathroom to help you change.
“I can't believe the Paige Bueckers almost body slammed you.” your manager, Lana, spoke in disbelief.
“She just wanted to save the ball,” folding the dirty clothes and putting it inside the bag that Lana held open, “The media doesn't do her enough justice though, they couldn't capture half of her beauty on camera.”
“Uh-huh” you could only roll your eyes at Lana, knowing what's running through her head.
By the time you've returned to the game and sat at your seat, it was already half-time. You watched the show, while munching on your snacks that Lana magically gave you.
The game ended in the Dallas Wings' favor. It was 99 - 89. You stood up to applaud for the players, still not knowing how they managed to play both defense, offense, run, and shoot for the whole forty minutes.
Fans were anticipating—a picture or a signature from their favorite players. You didn't expect that some people would even recognize you.
Sure, you have built a following on your social media platform—still grateful to have fans interacting with you even outside of the screen.
“Miss Y/N, can we please excuse you? Paige asked for you.” A staff dressed in all wings gear smiled at you, while gesturing to the door that leads back to the locker room, etc.
You could still hear the fans on your way to the back, as both you and the staff turned to your corner—a familiar slicked back ponytail greets your sight.
Paige.
She immediately sent you an apologetic smile towards your way. “Never thought you'll actually come here.”
A hint of nervousness graced her voice, far from her usual confident demeanor that you've seen clips on TikTok.
“Now, why would I reject an invitation from the superstar, Paige Bueckers?” You tried to ease up the awkwardness between the two of you.
This was the first interaction you have had with each other. Well, except what took place earlier.
Then, Paige scanned over your top and her face contorted in relief. “Good thing they gave you my extra shirt.”
That sentence alone made the gears in your head shut down. What do you mean that you are wearing her shirt? You didn't question the shirt that Lana handed you earlier.
“So, Lana got it from you?”
“More like from my manager, but sure.”
Silence finally enveloped both of them after trying their best to maintain a conversation to tone down the awkwardness.
As you finally gathered up the courage to say your gratitude and goodbye, Paige spoke up first.
“Maybe we could grab some dinner?” A sheepish smile was visible on her face, “I feel like I haven't properly compensated you enough for the trouble I caused.”
That stunned you, you've never received an invitation to go out to dinner before. That action and thought from Paige brought a smile on your face and a bag full of butterflies in your stomach.
“Sure, why not? Tonight or…?”
“Tonight. And one more thing, could I get your number?”
The only thought in your head was, ‘Is this a dream? Paige MF Bueckers is asking for my number.’
Without a falter in your movements, you opened your phone and gave it to her, “Never knew you could be so slick, Bueckers”
That gained a laugh from Paige.
“See you later, Ms. Ambassador.”
“See you later, PB.”
After parting ways, Paige didn't move an inch. Not until she can't see you, as you turn the corner.
Paige did not know where she gathered her courage and rizz to ask you out for dinner and getting your number. Was it the adrenaline from the game earlier? The feeling of smugness after getting a win? Who knows.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖☘︎ ݁˖˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𓂃.☘︎˖𖥔 ݁ ˖
It already had been two hours and forty-five minutes since Paige got home, but who's counting the time? Definitely Paige.
Endless piles of clothes had gathered on both her bed and apartment floor, yet she still couldn't find the right fit to wear. Not until a certain top caught Paige's attention.
So now, she was waiting outside your hotel. She wasn't excited to have dinner with her Idol, not like Paige didn't immediately send you the details and her receiving a heart from you alongside your hotel address.
Then here you were, walking outside of the hotel. Hair caught by the breeze, dress that looked like it was made just for you, and that damn smile that Paige stared at on her phone while looking at the post you uploaded.
“Paige, did you wait too long?” Your eyes grazed at Paige, who was leaning on her door—then just casually opened the door for you.
“Nope.”
The drive was short, Paige managed to calm down her nerves and start a conversation with you. It felt normal. No need to put up a facade for the media to avoid backlash, but with you—she was able to be just herself.
You and Paige settled in your own booth, stomach growling from the appetizing meals on the menu, and judging by the smell—this place definitely serves some fire meals.
“So,” Paige leaned a bit to get a good look on your face that was covered by the menu. “How's the WNBA treating you? I know promotion can be hectic, especially that you're the ambassador.”
“To be honest, it can be very hectic. But, It never gets tiring to promote the league. The W deserves recognition, many people tend to stray away from it because women are playing and that pisses me off.”
Seeing your balled up fist, while you were ranting how even the world is advanced—misogyny, inequality, and racism are still very prominent in this era made Paige smile.
There were only a few people that had the courage to speak out for what's right, and she was happy you were a part of those people.
“Now don't get riled up, you might accidentally punch me.”
That made you laugh, the media was right about her being a bit of a comedian. Everything feels light when she's around, now you understand why everyone in the league likes her.
After a few minutes of conversation between you and Paige, the cold finally got to you. Shivering slightly—Paige noticed it immediately. She didn't say anything, just took off her hoodie that she was wearing and gave it to you.
“I wouldn't want you to freeze before we got to eat.” You thanked her and accepted the hoodie. It smelled like her, warmth now hugged you instead of the cold and you relaxed.
Seeing that you finally eased up from the cold, Paige continued her story. And finally, the food finally arrived. The food looked magical—well in your eyes it was.
Both of you immediately dug into your meals after a prayer. Paige Bueckers was sitting across you, smiling, laughing, making jokes—looking at you with those deep blue eyes.
The meal was phenomenal, is what Paige would describe it. Time felt like it passed by too fast, Paige didn't want it to end—because after this she knew everything would go back to what it was.
Walking back to the parking lot, Paige slowed her pace. Noticing that Paige was lagging behind—you turned back to face her.
“Paige?”
She hesitated for a few moments before opening her mouth, “Maybe we could grab dinner again next time?”
That. That was shocking to you, “I don't see why not?”
“A dinner that isn't for compensating the shirt I spilled Shirley Temple on,” Paige pursed her lips and scratched the back of her head—clearly nervous. “A dinner date to be precise.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks, heartbeat was beating too fast, and your head felt like it was on cloud nine. “Just text me the details, Paige.” was all you could muster up also feeling that both of your knees might give up from how hard Paige was making you flustered.
Paige was giddy on her way home. Couldn't contain her excitement after dropping you off, squealing inside her bedroom after getting home. She was down bad.
It had been a few days since that encounter with you, yet it still stuck with Paige. Now it was another game day, Dallas Wings versus the New York Liberty. She knew you won't be able to make it to today's game.
You told her last night during your video call together. So Paige, promised that she'd show off. Even if you were watching through a screen, she shouldn't slack.
During the shoot around, she had shots going through the net. Horn finally blasted, signalling that it was over and that the game will start.
As she took off her warm-up gear, her eyes scanned the crown behind their bench and set her eyes on you. Her eyes widened and a smile broke through her game face on.
That's when she realized that you were wearing her hoodie.
TODAYS FEATURE : Idol!Reader x Ryul. Ryul gets interviewed by his number one fan, he doesn't really know she's his number one fan, maybe one day...
Pause ⏸ : Lowkey made this half asleep... This man is TOOOO fine
Y/N had done a lot of things for content.
She was fortunate enough to be under a company that let her do whatever she wanted, hence the "Monthly Job" segment on her YouTube channel. Once a month, at completely random times, she'd be given a random job to complete. Either voted on by her fandom or assigned directly by her company, who had absolutely no shame about it.
She'd eaten questionable street food on camera. She’s let her followers vote on her outfits for a week straight, immediately regretted it by day two. And once, her company thought it would be funny to have her build IKEA furniture. In IKEA.
For four hours.
Live.
She could handle pressure.
She was a professional.
But she was not going to survive this interview.
"Okay so just to confirm," Jiae said, scrolling through her tablet without looking up, "you're good with the LNGSHOT segment today? Solo interview, fifteen minutes, get-to-know format—"
"Yep."
"—with Ryul."
"Yep."
Jiae looked up, a small grin already on her face. "You sure?"
"Jiae."
"Because last time someone mentioned his name on your stream you went fully—"
"I said I'm fine."
She was not fine.
Hadn't been fine since 6am when she got the confirmed talent list and put her phone face-down on the bathroom counter and just stood there. Trying to breathe like a normal person with a normal relationship to the concept of Kim Ryul.
She did not have a normal relationship with the concept of Kim Ryul. Her company knew it, her fans knew it, there were even documented time stamps of her tweaking out.
The thing was, when she'd started posting kpop reaction videos about LNGSHOT, Ryul specifically, she had felt completely safe. They were a newly debuted group, she was a solo artist who didn’t go to collab shows or idol crossovers. The only place their paths could cross were the award shows that happened a few times a year, in a building with hundreds of other people.
She had done the risk assessment multiple times and determined that yearning for her crush to her fans was a low risk, high reward situation.
The risk was not low.
The risk was fifteen minutes away and being escorted to her studio.
—
The setup was cute. Low couch, little coffee table, soft lighting. Very casual and professional.
She got there early and ran through her cards three times. The questions were standard, favorite things, group dynamics, fun facts her editor had approved. Normal stuff.
But when Ryul walked in she could feel every hair on her body stand up.
He came in with his manager, bowed politely at the crew, got situated, and sat down. He was in a fully black outfit, looked a little tired but completely at ease. He looked exactly like his photos, which was just unfair. There was supposed to be some kind of adjustment period where real life turned out to be slightly less than expectation. But not him.
"Hi," he said.
Full professional smile. "Hi! Thanks for coming in, I'm Y/N—"
"I know." A beat. "I looked up your channel before I came. The monthly job thing."
"Yeah, exactly. New job every month."
"Last month was the bakery."
"A complete disaster." She'd known her whole life that she couldn't bake. Which is why when her randomly assigned job was to work at one of the more popular bakeries in Seoul she begged her company to change it.
Something shifted at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile. The warning sign of one. "The cakes came out nice though."
"You don't have to lie to me."
"It was funny."
"Wow. Super helpful, thank you,” she sent a playful smile.
He smiled back.
Y/N looked straight down at her cards.
She needed a second, maybe even a new job. She had seen this smile, in photos, fancams, in a gifset she'd reposted on her not-so-secret account at 1am with the caption why is he like this.
She knew his smile existed and yet her brain had completely stalled out because he'd aimed it at her in real life and apparently proximity was something she’d yet to consider.
"Ready?" Jiae asked from behind the camera, grinning.
"Yep," Y/N said.
—
The camera rolled and she got into it. She was good at this, genuinely good, and the thing she hadn't expected was that Ryul was easy to talk to. There was no stiff PR energy, he just answered.
"So," she said, bright and settled, fully in her idol persona, "in case anyone new is watching, could you tell us a bit about your group? Your members, what they're—"
Ryul's expression shifted. Just slightly. Something warm, a little amused, like he'd already started thinking about them, and he smiled again, slower this time, more relaxed. Clearly just at the thought of his members being a whole thing.
But it was aimed at her, and she couldn’t help but lose her train of thought when he looked like that…
Y/N's sentence left her body.
"—what they're, um." She stopped. Blinked. "Sorry. I— hold on."
She looked down at her cards. Shaking her head a little, jaw tight. The specific expression of someone who is fully aware of exactly what just happened and would very much like to never discuss it.
Ryul opened his mouth.
"Don't," she said.
"I wasn't—"
"I can see you being nice about it and I don't want it, let's just—" a vague hand gesture, "—move forward."
He closed his mouth, trying not to laugh but not succeeding completely.
"What they're like," Y/N finished, with great dignity, eyes still on her card. "Your members. What are they like."
A pause.
"Ohyul is the leader," Ryul said, straightforward, like the last twenty seconds hadn't happened. "Very composed, very organized. Woojin is the opposite, one of the loudest people I know. He and I spend a lot of time together so apparently his playfulness rubbed off on me, which I didn't ask for." The amused smirk was still there. "And Louis is the youngest but honestly really talented. They're all great. It's just a lot sometimes."
Y/N had recovered enough to laugh at that. "That does sound like a lot."
"It is."
They moved through the rest. His routine, what he'd been listening to lately — "Ghost" by Jack Harlow, noted, no visible reaction — and then somewhere mid-question she switched from Korean into English without realizing it, stumbled over a word, and stopped dead.
"Sorry—" she caught herself, switched back, "—first language is English, my Korean is still—" vague hand gesture, "—getting there. I switch without meaning to sometimes."
"It's fine," he said coolly, before answering the question.
"Three words to describe yourself," she said, card in hand. "Nothing you've used in an interview before."
It took him two seconds to come up with a response. "Normal. Boring. Tired."
She laughed. "That's the most honest answer I've ever gotten on this segment."
"What do people usually say?"
"Passionate. Hardworking. Grateful."
"Company answer."
"Every single time." She was grinning. He looked like he was also having a good time. "Okay, if you weren't in the industry, what would you be doing?"
"Still something in music. Producing, or just rapping independently." Then, after some thought, "and sleeping in. A lot."
"Same life, more sleep."
"Significantly more sleep."
"I respect that."
"Thank you."
She flipped to the last card. The one she'd almost cut at 2am and then didn't because she was curious about his answer and also, at 2am, not making the best choices. "Last one, from the audience, what's your ideal first date?"
Ryul leaned forward a little as he thought about it. Not helpful. "Somewhere casual, where you can actually talk. I'd even just take them home if I could. Nowhere noisy."
Y/N nodded slowly. "Surprisingly grounded."
"Normal, boring, tired."
"Right, you did say." She smiled. "Good answer though."
He looked at her for a second. "What's yours?"
She blinked. "I'm supposed to be—"
"You're out of cards." He subtly glanced at her empty hands, even that was starting to make her spiral, then back up at her.
He was right. Jiae was smirking from behind the camera, Y/N could feel it. She put the last card down. "I'm going to sound unoriginal but a home date too. Same answer."
Ryul nodded once and, thankfully, left it at that.
They wrapped up, said their goodbyes, and parted ways.
Y/N slumped into the couch the second he was gone. Jiae appeared above her immediately, smirk fully deployed.
"I'm fine," Y/N said, preemptively.
"You fumbled mid-sentence."
"No need to remind me," she grumbled.
"He saw."
"I know he saw, I was there—"
"Same ideal first date though." Jiae handed over the coffee, patted her on the shoulder twice. "Very cute. Your fans are going to lose it."
Y/N said nothing. Took a long sip. Looked over at the monitor, paused on a frame of Ryul mid-answer, that small unhurried smile sitting on his face.
Her fans were going to absolutely lose it.
So was she, a little. But that was between her and the paused footage.
At least for now.
[BEHIND THE SCENES]
An hour before the actual interview, Y/n thought to prepare herself. By watching edits of Ryul.
Jiae was shakily holding the phone as Y/n sat on a chair, getting her makeup touched up as she scrolled through tiktok. She had yet to change, still in a soft pink hoodie with hair clipped back.
“Okay,” she said from somewhere behind the camera, already sounding entertained, “we’re rolling for BTS.”
“Don’t put this in,” she warned playfully, pointing directly at the camera lens.
“Too late.” Her manager hummed.
“I’m serious, Jiae,” y/n groaned
Jiae didn’t answer. Instead, she angled the tablet slightly so the camera could see the screen.
On it was a fan edit.
Slow-motion clips of Ryul performing on stage, the dramatic lighting, heavy bass, the whole thing stitched together with skill. The editor had even synced a beat drop to the moment he tilted his head and smiled during a fan meeting clip.
Y/N made a strangled noise.
“Why is he like that,” she whispered, staring at the screen like it had personally betrayed her. “That’s not fair broooo, who asked him to do that????”
The edit replayed a moment of him rapping live, voice deeper than usual through the stage mic.
Y/N pressed both hands over her face, her makeup artist laughing at the reaction.
“Oh my god,” she groaned into her palms. “His voice.”
Behind the camera, Jiae snorted.
“I’m turning this off,” she mumbled weakly, eyes locked on the phone, not moving.
“You’ve said that three times.”
“I mean it this time.”
She did not turn it off.
The edit looped again.
This time she leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, completely locked in.
“Y/n-ah, you have to sit still,” her artist chuckled.
“Okay,” she sighed, sitting up. “Let’s be professional.”
A second passed.
Then she grabbed Jiae’s sleeve suddenly.
“Wait wait wait— play the one where he laughs again.”
Jiae groaned.
“You’re hopeless.”
“Please.”
“You’re interviewing him in fifteen minutes.”
“But look at him,” she said quietly, almost reverently. “He’s literally just standing there. Why–”
Jiae zoomed the camera in a little.
On screen, Ryul laughed at something a fan said during a fansign clip.
Y/N froze, slowly sliding off the couch, “Nope,” she shook her head. “I can’t do this. I physically cannot interview him.”
“That’s too damn bad” Jiae scoffed in amusement.
Y/N rolled onto her side and stared at the floor.
“Tell the company I quit.”
“You said that when you had to work at the bakery.”
“That was different. Flour doesn’t look like that.”
“Like what?”
She sat up again, gesturing helplessly at her phone.
“Like that,” she said, voice cracking slightly.
Jiae, completely unsympathetic, replayed the clip.
Y/N watched the entire thing again.
And then, because apparently she had no survival instincts whatsoever, she whispered, completely serious.
summary; you and ohyul were supposed to be casual, but somehow that turns into meeting his friends and a pair of house slippers that definitely weren’t part of the arrangement
warnings; fwb to lovers, fluff, kissing, accidental domesticity
wc; 2,4k - requested
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the thing about you and ohyul is that neither of you ever actually meant for this to become.. a thing
it started the way these ´things´ always start,
accidentally
as if it couldn’t get any more basic and predictable; you met through mutual friends at a hang out months ago, one of those crowded apartments nights where music and laughter is loud and half of the people barely know each other
you had noticed him because he looked like the only person in the room who wasn’t trying
no loud stories or attention seeking, just this quiet, amused expression like he was entertained by his friends and everyone else in the room
somewhere through the night, he ended up next to you when one of the other guys was sharing a story about a party that happened the other day
and somehow at some point the conversation closed in to just the two of you
and it didn´t stop for the rest of the night.
it was small talk at first,
things like how you met your mutual friend, someone spilling a drink on the floor, or the terrible snack choices that you somehow kept picking at anyway
but it naturally turned into actual conversations, more deep talks, personal if you will
music artists you both liked, stories about embarrassing childhood moments, your future self but also still some sarcastic commentary about everyone else at the gathering
at some point you'd been talking to him for two hours but it genuinely felt like 10 minutes, it had felt like you had known him for years instead of a few hours
and when you left that night, he asked for your number like it was the most natural thing in the world
and of course, you gave it to him because you had secretly hoped you’d see him someday again
the thing abour him was that it didn't even feel like flirting, it was natural and his way of existing
it was just.. easy?
and comfortable
but then the texts started, still very casual at first; memes, late night “are you still awake?” messages, random thoughts about things you'd talked about during the previous hang out
somewhere along the way the flirting slipped in slowly, so smoothly and almosf unnoticed, like neither of you meant for the conversations to turn into something else
a teasing comment here, a joking compliment there, a “are you going tonight?” just to make sure the other would show up too
and so one night you ended up sitting a little too close on a couch during yet another silly hangout, your knee bumping his, but neither of you moved away
there was this lingering tension that had been hovering quietly between you for weeks, and it only grew more and more
the first time you kissed him wasn’t dramatic at all. there was no big confession or crazy moment of realisation
it was just one of those quiet, charged seconds where you're both looking at each other and suddenly it happens?
but after that things moved.. fast
not emotionally,
but physically
and your ‘arrangement’ formed without any proper agreement or discussion
the idea was actually very easy; on the days his roommates were out, you’d go over to his house. and on the other days, he’d come over to yours
shared late nights in quiet apartments, that slowly turned into lazy mornings where one of you would say, “we should probably stop doing this” in a tone that clearly meant, “we are absolutely not going to stop doing this”
and at some point.. you both finally address the elephant in the room;
“so we’re.. what exactly?” you asked once, lying on your back, staring at his ceiling
and ohyul glanced over at you, his eyes scanning your face for any kind of reaction,
“friends?”
“friends who-”
“yeah,” he said quickly
and you laughed, “okay,”
there were no dramatic rules written down, but there was a mutual understanding between the two of you and this whole.. thing you had going on;
no pressure, no expectations, no jealousy,
just something casual, something easy, something that wouldn't complicate the rest of your lives
and for a while, it actually worked
except somewhere along the way, and after many shared nights and moments, the lines blurred a little
ohyul started texting you about things that had nothing to do with ‘meeting up’
he'd send random things like a picture of a terrible sandwich he made, a message complaining about one of his friends stealing his hoodie, or random thought he had at 2am
and at some point you started showing up earlier, and leaving later. catching yourself wanting to use all the time you could get to be with him..
sometimes you'd sit on his couch talking for hours, and other nights you'd fall asleep during movies,
and there were also the nights you two would end up laughing so hard about something stupid that you'd both forget what the night was originally supposed to be about
but neither of you said anything about it
because.. saying something would make it real,
and real meant complicated
so instead, you both pretended things were exactly the same
even when they clearly weren't
which is how you end up staring at your phone one evening when his message pops up,
ohyul; hey uh.. small problem
you grin immediately, small problem usually means two things; either he forgot something important, or one of his friends did something stupid
you; that already sounds suspicious
it didn’t take long before 3 dots appear, then disappear, and then pop up again
ohyul; the guys’ plans got cancelled so they’re home tonight
you stare at the message for a second too long,
oh.. right
usually when you go over to his place it's just the two of you, and a social event with all his roommates as well
because that´s the whole point of your arrangement; convenience. a private space, a quiet apartment and no audience,
ohyul; so i dont think tonight will work
you tilt your head slightly, then type before you can even think twice
you; i don't mind them being home
a second passes and your message stays unanswered for a moment. even though the ‘read’ popped up as soon as you clicked send
then another..
ohyul; oh fr?
you; yeah, they know you have friends right haha
ohyul; yeah but you’ve never met them
you shrug, even though he can't see it
you; and? worst case scenario they hate me and i simply become their sleep paralysis demon
there’s a pause,
then-
ohyul; you’re insane
ohyul; come over
and somehow that's how you end up knocking on his door later that night
for a second there's no movement on the other side, but then the door swings open
ohyul is standing there in grey sweatpants and a hoodie that's slightly too big, his hair is a little messy like he ran his hands through it a hundred times. which he probably did
he looks at you,
then behind him,
and then back at you,
“...hi,” he says
“hi,”
there's a tiny pause where neither of you move
you tilt your head, “are you gonna let me in or should i get comfortable right here?”
he huffs a quiet laugh and steps aside,
“come in,”
the second you step inside the apartment you hear voices from the living room
“is she here?”
ohyul sighs, closing his eyes briefly, already shaking his head,
“...they’ve been like this for 10 minutes,”
you grin, “that sounds exciting,”
“as soon as i told them a ‘female’ friend was coming over, they’ve been sat in the living room, literally waiting,”
you laughed under your breath, but you can’t deny the little pang in your chest because of the way he said the word ‘friend’
you step further inside, brushing past him, peeking into the living room
3 guys are sprawled across the couch and floor, waiting for entertainment (you)
and the moment they see you, they all sit up straight,
“wait- shes actually real,”
you blink, huffing softly, “..thank you?”
another one leans forward like he's studying you,
“we lowkey thought he made you up,”
ohyul groans behind you, “can you not,”
you nudge his shoulder as you kick off your shoes by the door before walking in fully,
“hi,” you say casually, “glad to see you guys are real too,”
“he talks about us?” one said with a little too much hope
“..no,” you admit, laughing
“rude,” one of them says
ohyul only scoffs, following you into the living room he has spent so many nights with you
but now, you’re welcomed by 3 other guys.. and not just him
but within minutes the awkwardness just.. disappears
someone hands you a chocolate milk, while someone else asks how you met ohyul
the two of you exchange a quick glance,
“long story,” you say, grinning slightly
“that sounds suspicious,” one of them shoots back immediately, eyeing ohyul up and down
after what felt like a whole book of questions, the youngest one finally voted for a movie night,
but the movie they try to put on becomes background noise almost instantly,
not even 10 minutes in the movie, they’re yapping again, voices overlapping each other because of the excitement they try to overthrow
ohyul's friends, who you learned where named woojin, ryul and louis, are exactly what you expected;
loud, chaotic, sarcastic and bickering non stop
their voices are loud and joyful as they’re all laughing and talking about their memories with ohyul, taking this moment as a chance to expose the older guy
ryul tells you about the time ohyul cried during a cartoon when he was younger,
“i was 7,” ohyul defends from across the room
“you cried for 20 minutes,”
“it was emotional,”
“it was about a talking toaster,”
you laugh so hard you almost spill your choco milk (don’t tell ryul)
they keep adding things, the silliest confessions are being brought to light and at some point ohyul simply gives up on trying to defend himself
he just watches you from across the room, laughing and interacting with his 3 closest friends, and something about the whole thing feels.. weirdly natural,
at some point you end up sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, and ohyul sits behind you, on the couch
his knee is brushing your shoulder and you unintentionally lean into his touch a little bit
neither of you pull away, instead you let the moment linger a little longer
every now and then he’d lean in a little closer and say something to you, just for you to hear, things like a sarcastic comment or a silly whispered joke
but it's the kind of small conversation that feels intimate even with his friends in the same room
and every now and then you catch one of his friends glancing between the two of you like they're piecing something together
hours pass like that
and when the movie ends, the apartment slows down quietly
the previous chaos and screams got replaced by silent yawns and soft voices,
ryul stretches dramatically, his eyes drifting between you and ohyul, who are still in the same position but now you’re fully in between his legs
“okay im going to bed before you two start being weird,”
ohyul immediately sits up, “were not-”
but ryul is already walking down the hallway, grinning to himself, calling out to you to come over again soon, before disappearing into his room
woojin follows, giving you a knowing smile on the way,
“nice meeting you, you're way cooler than him,” he jokes, nodding his head to ohyul
“low bar,” you reply jokingly, to which you earned one last laugh of the evening
and when the last door closes behind louis,
quietness fills the room instantly and for a moment, you let the silence linger
then you lean your head back slightly so you can look at him, his eyes are soft and tired but still hold that little mischievous look
“your friends are nice,” you said
he exhales softly, “they like you,”
“obviously,”
he scoffs softly but can’t hide the smile creeping up on his face,
a real one, not the sarcastic half smiles he usually throws around
you both sit there for another moment, and you let your head rest on the couch, taking in the quiet moment after all the loud chaos
then he nudges your shoulder,
“come here,”
you turn slightly and he reaches down immediately, pulling you up from the floor
and suddenly you're standing really close, closer than you were the entire night,
his hand lingers around your wrist,
“i’m glad you came,” he says quietly
you shrug a little, “me too,”
his eyes flick down to your mouth for half a second,
then back up as if he caught himself doing it
his gaze holds yours for the first time that evening, and you can see him taking in the moment for a little longer than necessary,
you grin up at him, a playful smile on your face,
“are you gonna kiss me,” you say, “or are we having a staring contest?”
and that breaks whatever bubble he was in
his hand instantly slides to the back of your neck and he pulls you in, pressing his lips on yours like he’d been starved for weeks
the kiss is slow and soft, not rushed the way your kisses usually are
this one lingers
your fingers curl into the front of his hoodie, his thumb brushes your jaw softly, and you feel him melt into the kiss
the moment feels quiet, warm and intimate, like neither of you are trying to rush to the next step
and when you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours,
“you should probably go before i forget the others are here,” he murmurs, his hand still cupping your face
you laugh softly, “good idea,”
after that night, something shifts
not dramatically, but little things, small enough that you could pretend they don't mean anything
one night when you come over you wander into the bathroom to wash your hands and immediately stop in your steps
there's a toothbrush on the counter, still in its packaging
you stare at it for a second, before grabbing it and walking back into his room where ohyul was scrolling on his phone
you hold it up, “care to explain why you bought a second toothbrush?”
he glances at it for a second, then shrugs like its the least important thing in the world, “what,”
“you bought me a toothbrush,”
“its easier,” he states like it’s nothing
“easier,” you repeat slowly
you narrow your eyes, humming to yourself as if you’re questioning his intentions
and he scoffs immediately, "don't make it weird,” he says, but his lips curl up in a tiny smile as soon when you turn around again
..with the ((your)) new toothbrush
a week later you’re at his place again,
this time you kick off your shoes by the door, just like any other day and notice something new beside them
a pair of soft indoor slippers, that are clearly not his, or big louis’ considering the size doesn’t quite match any male species living in this house
you slip them on, and just like you expected; they fit perfectly
when ohyul walks into the hallway, he immediately notices the slippers on your feet
you look up at him, playfully grinning as you see a flash of panic mixed with pride on his face,
you wiggle your feet, “did you buy me house slippers?”
“they were on sale,”
“of course they were,” you grin, pushing him to the side before slipping into the apartment
“they’re comfy tho,” you added, glancing back at him
and his ears turn slightly pink but he cant hide the small smirk on his face when he sees you walk into his room
after that it almost becomes a game,
a very fun game tho
every time you see him there’s something new, something he did or bought, maybe even made himself
and every time you point it out, he somehow always had an answer ready, one a little more believable than the other
“did you really get me my fav snacks?”
“no, woojin wanted them,”
“liar,”
“why is your fridge stocked with my drinks,”
“..louis likes them,”
“why did you tell ryul to move because he was sitting in my spot,”
“..that slipped out,”
every single time, he shrugs it off like it means nothing, like little fairies came out to clear up his fridge or stocked up the snack cabinet
but it didn’t stop..
suddenly there was space for your shoes, even an extra one in case you grew 2 extra feet and needed another one, a new blanket that's suspiciously the exact color you once said you liked, or even new towels in the fabric you liked the most
the more you notice, the more it feels like there’s something growing that neither of you are talking about
and for a while, you let it be, whatever it was
but one evening, when the two of you were having your usual night, you brought it up
your mind speaking up before your heart could even protest,
“yk, you’re being very boyfriendy lately,”
it was completely out of the blue and ohyul nearly dropped his glass as soon as you spoke those words,
“no i’m not,”
“you bought me slippers,”
“they were cheap,”
“and in my size,”
“so?”
you looked at him, and playfully rolled your eyes as you saw his lips slightly pouting the way he always does when he’s taken aback
“you reorganised your bathroom,”
“that’s unrelated,”
you scoff, “you told your friends to stop sitting on my chair,”
“..that was not what i meant,”
you cross your arms and look at him, “then what did it mean?”
something about the way he suddenly won't meet your eyes makes a realisation bloom slowly in your chest,
“ohyul,”
“what,”
“do you like me,”
the question lands immediately, his eyes widen just slightly, and he brushes a hand through his hair like that was going to save him from the sudden question
“i-,”
you grin at the way his eyes look anywhere but you
“no” he mumbles, “it’s just casual, we’re casual,” he adds, more like he’s trying to convince himself of whatever he just said out loud
your chest twists, “..right,”
he exhales, “and i know you don’t want this-“ he vaguely gestures between the two of you; “..to be more than that,”
you stare at him for two seconds, his eyes were avoiding yours like the plague and you couldn’t help the little laugh slipping past your lips,
and he frowns immediately, his head snapping up to look at you,
“is this funny to you,”
you step closer, "a little bit,”
“excuse you,”
“so you’re telling me you bought me house slippers because that’s what you do for casual people?”
“well- no, but, i- no,” he huffs out a breath like it had been stuck for years
“so why did you do it?”
“because,”
“ohyul,”
“yn,”
“you’re so stupid,”
he blinks, “what,”
“ohyul, i’ve liked you for months,”
“what,”
you poke his chest, “i just assumed you didn't want anything serious,”
he looks at you, dead staring into your eyes, and you can see his brain visibly running overhours,
“are you fr,”
“myeah,” you reply
“what, why didn’t you tell me??” he asks, taking a step closer to you
“you’re not one to talk sir,” you jokingly replied
he scoffs softly, pinching his nose bridge as he’s shaking his head like he can’t actually believe that this is happening
there's a long pause,
and for a moment you’re unsure if he’s even breathing properly lmao
then suddenly he grabs you and pulls you flush against his chest, wasting no time at all, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss
you kissed plenty of times before, every single one surpassing the previous, but this one is different
it’s almost like a mix of relief and pure excitement
your teeth clash with each other just a little bit, but neither of you cared
the slow realisation of what’s actually happening makes you smile against his lips,
“so,” he murmurs, pulling away just slightly to look at you
“so,” you echo
“this means i can stop pretending the slippers were just convenient?”
you grin, “yeah,”
his arms tighten slightly around you,
“good,” he says, “because i also bought your favorite cereal,”
you gasp dramatically,
“ohyul,”
“what,”
“next thing i know you’re proposing,” you joke, hands coming up to fix the collar of his shirt, smiling as you looked at him,
that familiar spark of mischief shining through
he rolls his eyes, laughing softly before kissing you again
summary; at a formal company dinner, ohyul tries to be the perfect leader; professional, composed and mature but watching his members monopolize his girlfriend’s attention tests his patience more than he’d like to admit. you notice and you can’t help but enjoy it
warnings; jealousy, petnames (idk what else sorry feel free to let me know!)
wc; 4k - requested
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the venue is obnoxiously fancy
there’s crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, waiters walking around like they’re in a historical drama
very nice tho, but not what you expected for a silly company dinner and you definitely feel underdressed even though you’re not
ohyul and the others were already there, something about welcoming all their guests and showing responsibility (ahum) so you reassured him that it was ok, you’d come by yourself
so you did, and the second you step inside, you get spotted immediately
“yn!!!!”
woojin practically teleports across the room, his arms wide to give you a welcome hug and ryul is right behind him with a big smile on his face
“you made it!” ryul beams, taking your coat before you can even protest, “we were just talking about you,”
“oh,” you laugh, “that sounds promising”
“yeah, we still didn’t show you the pictures from france,” woojin says dramatically, “i almost died there,”
“he did not almost die,” ryul deadpans, “he tripped over a curb”
“it was a european curb,”
you’re already laughing, greeting a couple people along the way as they push you towards the table like they’re your personal security
ohyul watches from across the room, he noticed you the second you walked in,
and you look pretty, effortlessly pretty, as always but he doesn’t come up to you, even though he really wants to
he’s in full leader mode; polite smiles, shaking hands, thanking producers, nodding seriously at something a higher-up is saying
he looks calm. put together. and very mature
his smile stays perfectly polite as he bows to a senior producer,
but he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to you every ten seconds, just watching you from the side, already feeling left out as he sees his members hanging around you while he’s over here doing .. adult things
woojin insists you sit next to him, “i have so much to tell you,” he says, pulling your chair out for you
and ryul is already sliding into the seat on your other side before the chair has even fully stopped moving, “louis face planted the stairs, i have videos,” he laughs
and just like that.. you’re trapped
you don’t even realise you haven’t looked for ohyul yet, completely drawn into the immediate chaos of the other two
but ohyul on the other hand?? definitely does, his eyes keep drifting in your direction, waiting for you to turn your head
and in this very moment, he can’t help but silently curse his members for being so close with you,
by the time dinner starts, everyone gets seated and properly prepared for the upcoming feast
names of dishes, listed with ingredients you’d genuinely never heard of before are announced, and you giggle seeing woojin’s facial expressions, clearly just as .. new to this as you are
ohyul ends up at the far end of the table, because of course he does.. leader responsibilities
as you’re joking around and laughing with his members, he’s busy talking to the producers, answering questions, nodding, and looking interested even when his mind is somewhere else
and he’s listening of course
but as he’s talking to their manager and staff members, he can hear you guys laughing and it’s lowkey driving him crazy. already
he was so excited to have you here tonight, to introduce you to producers and staff members, show you off (politely) to others
but he hasn’t even gotten a second of your attention ever since you stepped into the room,
he watches the whole thing unfold infront of him
you lean in as woojin talks and shows you something on his phone, slightly tilting your head, showing that you’re actually listening and interested in the story
“and he tried to order in french,” ryul says, barely holding it together, “and the waiter just-“
“okay! but that was only one time..-“
their voices were overlapping in excitement and ohyul tries his hardest not to stare
but he fails, obviously
one of the producers is talking about a possible future collaboration, and he’s nodding along, but his eyes flicker back to you (again)
he has never felt so far away from you
or left out..
he invited you to the dinner because he knows everyone loves you just as much as he does (if that’s even possible) and he knew he wasn’t gonna be able to stick by your side all night,
but he wasn’t aware of how much it would bother him that the others could..
sure, the boys missed you and were excited to see you, but so was he?
your actual boyfriend???
woojin leans closer to show you something on his phone again
too close if you ask him
and ohyul only sighs in silence, trying to keep his composure even though deep down he wishes you were sitting next to him instead
by the time dessert is announced, he’s lowkey eating himself up inside
he’s trying his best to enjoy the food and opportunity to just chill and laugh with their whole team but he can’t help but long for your presence
there’s been multiple occasions where he has to step in as a leader and do the talking, and up until now it was never an issue tl him that you were so close with his members
but for some reason, tonight, he can’t help but feel.. something
after a while, people start getting up one by one, stretching their legs a little, walking around to ‘inspect the place’ because apparently that’s what men do when they get to a new place
and ohyul excuses himself politely,
finally.
he doesn’t rush, still bowing and smiling like the good guy he is, as he slowly walks up to you
he steps behind you quietly, while woojin is mid-story about some airport chaos, his hands come up to settle on your shoulders, warm and firm
he squeezes gently, his thumbs pressing into the tense spot at the base of your neck, like a subtle massage
just enough pressure to make his presence felt
you tilt your head to look up at him, and you smile,
and so does he, a soft smile, his eyes slightly narrowed tho
“hi,” you say sweetly
his expression softens immediately, “hi,” he replies, his thumbs pressing softly into your shoulders again, “are you having fun?”
“mhm,” you hum, placing your hand over his for a second, “i’m getting the full france and london recap”
“the full one?” he mutters quietly
you grin
woojin turns around, “hyung, did you know she didn’t know about your-“
“she doesn’t need to know about that,” ohyul interrupts smootly
and you laugh again
but instead of turning in your chair to face him fully, you just squeeze his hand gently before dropping it again
like a small moment of acknowledgment, but not enough..
for him at least
he lingers, his hands stay on your shoulders as he tries to insert himself in the conversation but that’s a lost cause when it also involves woojin and ryul
ohyul exhales through his nose, bending down, resting his chin on top of your head,
“why didn’t you sit next to me?” he mumbles, loud enough for you to hear
“because you were busy,” you reply, smiling innocently
“i’m never too busy for you,” he murmers, his thumb traces a line along the curve of your shoulder, “you didn’t even come to say hi,”
you chuckle under your breath, leaning back so he has to stand upright again, finally turning your head toward him, “you were in the middle of.. things,”
he searches your face, and you look amused,
a little too amused
“you could’ve come to me,” he says
“mm,” you hum, tilting your chin up to him, “or you could’ve come to me,” the corner of your lip slightly curling up,
but he saw it, of course
ryul pipes up again, pulling you back into the story before ohyul can respond
and you let yourself get pulled
ohyul straightens slowly, he keeps massaging your shoulders, but now it’s less gentle and more.. claiming.
woojin nudges you again, “and then the manager almost left him there-“
“what?” you gasp, fully invested again
ohyul laughs in disbelief,
he’s standing there,
right there
and you’re choosing airport chaos over him
he removes his hands from your shoulders, letting it slide slowly down your arms before he pulls away
“are you leaving already?” you ask, voice sweet and slightly teasing
he looks down at you, and he can tell you’re playing with him
he scoffs softly, rolling his eyes slightly but enough for you to see,
he knows you, but he cannot call you out on it without looking insane in front of his team
“dessert,” he says shortly. “i have to sit”
you pout slightly. “don’t be grumpy.”
“i’m not”
you raise an eyebrow, grinning
and he sighs, walking back to his seat. you watch him go, and you chuckle at the way he doesn’t look back
not even five minutes later, when dessert is served, you feel his gaze again
matter of fact, throughout the rest of the dinner, he keeps glancing at you, not so subtle anymore
and you notice
oh, you definitely notice
he’s sulking,
trying not to, but definitely failing
every time you laugh, it’s there
every time you lean over a little, it sharpens
and when you finally glance across the table at him,
he’s obviously already looking
yup.
he’s definitely sulking,
definitely a little jealous
and definitely trying (and failing) to be composed
and you can’t help but bite back a smile, you know him, you know this look, but to be honest, you’re lowkey enjoying his little mood
only a little bit tho hehe
dessert takes forever, for him at least
when one of the producers asks him a question, he answers automatically, he laughs at the right moments and smiles when needed
but his eyes drift back to you again
you’re still laughing with the others and he swears he can hear it over the entire room
“ohyul..?”
he blinks, right, conversation.. focus..
“sorry,” he says smoothly, his posture straightening again
but on the inside? he’s spiralling, just a little
he knows he can’t just get up and abandon the conversation, these dinners matter, these are the people that helped with their music, who funded their debut
he can’t be the jealous bf right now
but he wasn’t jealous tho!!
right?
no, he swears he’s not
but he also can’t stop staring at the way woojin is practically turned toward you completely, shoulder brushing yours every few seconds
and ryul isn’t any better, his eyes are so bright for no reason
and you?
you’re glowing, as always
but not at him
woojin is mid sentence when someone calls his name from across the room
“oh- that’s director kim,” he says quickly, already half way out of his chair, “i should go say hi”
ryul follows immediately, “i’ll come too,”
and just like that, they’re gone
you giggle as you watch them walk away, the two musketeers
and for a second, you’re sitting at the table by yourself,
alone,
well..
not for long tho
ohyul’s chair immediately scrapes softly against the floor as he stands,
his heart deciding before his mind can protest, excusing himself from the conversation
and you can feel him before you see him,
he stops behind you again, but this time there was no chaotic storytelling to compete with,
no one pulling you away,
just you
and his hands settle on your shoulders (again)
but this time, it’s little firmer than before, his thumbs press in slowly, deliberately
“finally,” he murmers under his breath
you smile to yourself as you take a sip from your drink before tilting your head to look at him
“hm?”
he leans down slightly, close enough that his voice doesn’t carry past you
“i haven’t even had a chance to talk to you alone,” he murmers softly, almost whiny, like a confession only meant for you
there it is.
you blink up at him innocently, “we talk alone all the time,”
he scoffs lightly, his fingers flexing against your shoulders
“not the same thing,” he shoots back, “i meant tonight”
“sure baby,” you giggle
he laughs under his breath, almost disbelieving
“you’re my plus one,” he mutters, “not theirs,”
you turn in your chair a little, just enough so your knees brush his thighs
“don’t get all possessive now, mr leader,” you grin
“i’m not,” he shoots back
you just hum thoughtfully, like you’re considering it
“but you didn’t even bat an eye when i came over,” he adds
you can feel him step a little closer, his warmth radiating off of him, onto you,
“that’s not true, i said hi,” you said, not being able to hide the little smirk in your voice
“you literally gave me,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “like 2 seconds,”
you giggle, sipping your drink as you turned towards the table again
his hands slide slowly from your shoulders down to rest lightly at your upper arms,
it’s not inappropriate, just grounding and maybe a little bit.. claiming
“i didn’t think i’d have to fight for your attention tonight,” he says quietly, his lips clearly pouting
you place your glass on the table,
and finally, turn your body fully toward him now, your knees bumping his in the process, his hands sliding off your arms as you face him
“someone’s jealous,” you whisper, grinning a little bit too much to his liking
his eyes narrow slightly,
“..maybe”
you only smile, “of woojin..?”
silence.
“ryul?”
he sighs, rolling his eyes as he sees the amused look on your face
“no,”
“right, right,”
you get up from your seat, reaching out to him, adjusting his tie slightly, slow and sweet
“you look very handsome tonight,” you murmer
his breath catches, he groans quietly, slapping your hands away (jokingly and softly)
“don’t distract me,”
“i thought you wanted my attention,”
“i do,”
you hold his gaze, smiling up at him and his face visibly relaxes
he sighs out loud, his hands come to your waist, just holding you for a sec and you can see the way his eyes flicker back and forth between yours
and for a brief, dangerous second, he felt like he finally had you for himself..
but then-
“hyung!”
you can’t help but laugh as your bf throws his head back in disbelief, groaning under his breath
you saw woojin and ryul walking back toward the table, louis somehow attached to them now
and ohyul’s hands drop to his side in defeat
woojin immediately drops back into his seat, next to yours, absolutely clueless about ohyul’s internal crisis
ryul claiming a new chair next to woojin, while louis slides into a chair across from you with bright eyes
ohyul sighs as you nudge his chest softly before you sit back down too
he follows your movement, sitting down next to you this time instead of on the other side of the table, close enough that your thighs touch faintly under the linen tablecloth
his posture stays composed, his shoulders squared and his leader mask still in place
but there’s a new ..edge on him now
not jealousy..
more .. annoyed
the conversation restarts immediately, maybe even louder now that louis is involved too
woojin is retelling a story with even more exaggeration while ryul adds commentary and louis just gasps and giggles at the right parts
you laugh along, nodding whenever woojin turns towards you to make sure you’re still listening
and beside you, ohyul goes quiet
he answers when spoken to, smiles faintly whenever ryul turns the conversation into something ohyul did, but you can see the shift in his posture
you glance at him,
he’s staring at the table for a second too long before lifting his gaze to you
not hurt,
not pleading,
just.. done. fed up
you almost smile, but you somehow manage to keep a straight face
instead, you nudge your knee lightly against his under the table
and he scoffs under his breath, his tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek, rolling his eyes faintly
not at you, but at the timing,
at the fact that the universe apparently refuses to give him 5 uninterrupted minutes with his own girlfriend
as louis excitedly talks about wanting to try a game later, you casually reach up and smooth your fingers through ohyul’s hair, pushing a strand off his forehead
it doesn’t need fixing, you both know that, it’s unnecessary, just purely teasing
“what,” he murmers
“nothing,” you say sweetly,
his eyes narrow slightly, he knows you’re playing with him and you’re enjoying this for whatever reason
but when you’re fingers linger for a little moment, he doesn’t pull away
under the table, his hand comes up to rest on your thigh, squeezing it firmly, almost like he’s reclaiming something
and you let him
you can really tell how wound up he is now, not just jealous, but frustrated, like he’s spent the entire night being the responsible one while everyone else got the version of you he wanted
you hold his gaze for a second longer than necessary
then you smile at him, soft, almost innocent
you can’t help but feel a little bit of pride seeing how easily affected he gets over something so silly
kwon ohyul, the oh so self controlled guy, always bragging about how collected he is suddenly not so collected anymore
and when the dinner starts winding down and chairs scrape against the floor, ohyul stands immediately
there’s no hesitation this time, no waiting to see who grabs you first,
his hand settles at the small of your back, firm and unmistakable
“let’s go,” he says calmly, already making his way to say his goodbyes and thank you’s to everyone who came
very eager to finally go back to the dorm and making an end to this (in his eyes) endless evening
you smile and bow, turning slightly to make sure the other 3 are all good and making their way to the car as well
and you can instantly feel ohyul’s hand press a little more insistently against you
the second everyone piles into the car, ohyul subtle moves so he can get in after you, blocking any chance of the others to be first
ryul doesn’t argue, just hops in behind him, still oblivious
ohyul gets in the seat next to you, his hand brushes yours as he settles in
“wow guys,” you say, exaggerating the sarcasm, your voice dripping mock drama, “that was fun, we should do that more often,”
his jaw tightens at your teasing, “mh-uh,” he mumbles dryly, “very fun,” his tone was flat, but his fingers brushed over to yours,
you glance at him sideways, smirk curling at your lips,
it’s only a short drive back to the dorms, but it feels like an eternity for ohyul
as soon as you get inside, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards his room
you can hear the other 3 shuffle inside one by one,
“game night??!” louis calls out excitedly
you open your mouth to answer, but ohyul beats you to it,
“she’s tired,” he says
“i’m not-“
“she is”
and before anyone can argue, he pushes you into his room
“hyung!” woojin protests weakly
but the doors already shut
finally.
quiet.
no louis. no woojin. no ryul. no exaggerated airport stories
just you and him
ohyul doesn’t move toward you immediately, he sets his phone down on his desk, shrugs off his jacket, smoothing his hair back like he’s resetting himself
and you just watch him for a second, tilting your head.
ohyul turns to you and you can’t help but giggle at his face expression, he looks.. offended
“you’re actually unbelievable,” he mutters
you blink, “me?”
“yes, you,” he runs a hand through his hair before dramatically letting them slide down his face, “was i invisible to you?”
“i can recall looking at you a couple times,”
“looking! just looking!” he says, putting his hands on his hips to exaggerate the moment, “and my own members kidnapped you,”
you grin, “kidnapped?”
“yes,” he calls out, “and you didn’t even try to escape,”
you step closer, clearly amused, “i didn’t want to escape, i was having a great time,”
he scoffs, softly pushing you off, not giving in quite yet, “well then at least one of us did,”
“oh cmon,” you laugh, “don’t be so grumpy,”
“i’m not,”
you laugh softly and reach for him, but he catches your wrist before you can fully wrap your arms around him
“you were laughing at everything they said,” he mutters
“they’re funny,”
“i’m funny,”
“sometimes,”
he narrows his eyes at you, “woojin was practically sitting on you,”
“he was not,”
“he was leaning,”
“and you’re sulking,”
“i’m observant,”
“observant?” you echoed
“yes,” he replies calmly. “i was observing how my girlfriend seemed to forget i existed.”
you gasp softly, dramatic, “that’s not true,”
he hums, unconvinced, and leans back against his desk arms crossed,
you step closer and he straightens immediately
you take another step, smiling sweetly, and open your arms to hug him
but he puts a hand on your shoulder before you can, stopping you mid motion
just enough distance to keep you from pressing into him
“no,” he says
you stare at him, “no?”
“not yet,”
your lips twitch, trying your hardest to not grin “what do you mean not yet?”
“you were very busy tonight,” he replies, looking past you instead of at you, “now i’m busy too,”
you laugh, “oh my god,”
“you should go hug woojin,”
“or ryul,” he adds lightly, “you seemed very invested in their stories”
you giggle softly, trying to step closer again
to which he leans back, as much as that’s possible, his arms still crossed
keeping that tiny, frustrating space between you
“ohyul,” you say, amused, “you’re acting very sulky for someone who was just observing,”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
you narrow your eyes at him
and he looks away toward the wall for a second, like he has to fight his inner demons to keep his .. composure..
“you didn’t even sit next to me,” he mutters
“you were at the end of the table,”
“exactly!”
you try to suppress your smile and he notices immediately
“don’t laugh,” he whines
“i’m not laughing,”
“you are!”
you step forward again, this time, instead of going for a full hug, you just reach for his hand
but he pulls back before you can grab it
“oh my god,” you chuckle, “you’re impossible”
“i waited all night,” he says, finally looking at you directly, “now you can wait too,”
“ohyul,” you tease softly
“don’t,”
you take another small step, teasing, close enough now that you have to stretch your neck a little to look up at him
and he doesn’t stop you this time, but, he doesn’t open his arms either
“you know i was just teasing you,” you say gently
he exhales through his nose, “i know.”
“and?”
“and?? and! i’m still allowed to be annoyed,” he mutters under his breath
you smile at that, “so you are sulking”
“no,” he shoots back immediately, “i am.. processing”
you laugh softly and finally reach up, fixing his hair again just to irritate him
“stop,” he mutters
“why?,”
“because,”
you poke his chest lightly, smiling up at him with your eyes full of mischief
then, without warning, you slip your arms around his waist quickly before he can block you again
and for a split second he stiffens, like he’s considering maintaining the act,
but then his arms twitch, like he’s hesitating
“..you’re cheating,” he mutters
“i am indeed,”
he exhales, long and dramatic
then finally - finally - his arms slide around you
not tight, not fully giving in, just enough
“i’m still annoyed,” he mumbles into your hair
“sure,”
“and i will be for a while,” he preaches, more to convince himself
“right,”
“i’m serious,”
“mhm” you hum sarcastically, “if you need some alone time, i can go see what woojins up to, no worries,”
he scoffs in disbelief, pushing you off again, “i’m sure you’d like to”
you laugh, amused, turning around to walk to the door, like you really mean it
“fine,” you say over your shoulder, “at least he will hug me properly,”
there’s a split second of silence, ohyul staring at you with his mouth slightly open in shock and disbelief
then he grabs your wrist, firm, pulling you back before you can even take a full step
“absolutely not,” he says,
you grin, looking down at your hands, then back at him,
“ok fine, i was jealous,” he admits, running his free hand over his face dramatically,
“i know,”
he huffs softly, trying to stay serious but the way his lips twitch betray him,
“if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked for it,” you say easily, smirking at your little victory
and his eyes darken just lightly, and there’s a beat of silence,
until he pulls you closer again, this time more dramatic and clingy,
“fine,” he scoffs, “in that case, i’m keeping you here the rest of the night,”
you giggle, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, to which he instantly holds you close by your waist
“mr jealous,” you grin
“extremely,” he replies seriously
“and possessive,”
“a little,” he huffs, “but only with what’s mine,”
“and cute,”
he rolls his eyes, “don’t push it now,”
you laugh, softening immediately, wrapping your arms around him properly,
and his grip tightens slightly,
and for the rest of the night, when there’s a knock somewhere down the hallway, he doesn’t even bother responding
yearner!ohyul x reader, in which ohyul wants u back so bad he makes a whole song about u.
description! [ wc - 8.7k ]
songfic, aged up lngshot, producer lngshot, established past relationship, yearner ohyul, lowkey yearner reader, conflicted feelings, slight angst, happy ending
You slowly blink a couple of times to focus on not throwing up, distracted by the echoes of laughter around you and the liquid fire in your throat as you set the shotglass down. You have to swallow nothing twice to stop yourself dry heaving from the alcohol. This new brand of liquor was… strong as hell, to say the least.
“Ryul! Your turn!” Someone on your left announces, and you’re too lazy to turn but you see a hand appear to fill up everyone’s glass again. In the background, Ryul stands up and clears his throat as you shake your head and pull your empty shotglass towards yourself - you remember the stack of paperwork on your desk in your minds eye and you were NOT going to touch any excel spreadsheet with a hangover.
To distract others from noticing you not drinking, you help to push the freshly filled glasses towards the others and slump back down in your seat.
“Here’s a toast to…. every hardworking person at this table! Cheers!” Ryul says, raising his glass of pale yellow beer. He’s drunk and he looks the part - his yellow sweater is untucked, sporting a few decorative drops of spilled drink and his hair is somehow messier than usual. His sweater rides up to expose his torso when he raises his arm and you look away in only a little bit of disbelief, but it’s mostly because you’re already light-headed and you want to go home. The table boo’s him in unison and someone says something about repeating a toast, but you don’t hear it.
You’ve accidentally looked away from Ryul and directly at something you’re actively distracting yourself from. Or rather, someone.
Ohyul.
He’s distracted looking at Ryul now, joining in on dogpiling him and insisting he be the only one that drinks for that terrible toast. You’re too relaxed now to pull your eyes away from his blue button-up that has just enough buttons undone, and you can’t stop your traitorous brain from thinking about him. Against your will and better judgement, you fixate on his jaw and your relationship flashes past your eyes - you can’t deny that you miss him. It’s been weeks since your last conversation outside of work and he looks so alive and animated in this moment, right across the table from you that you feel your heart clench. He’s so near yet so far away.
A shout startles you into alertness.
It’s Ryul again, loudly proclaiming, “KWON OHYUL! Since you have soooo much to say, you take a shot and the next toast is yours!”, which doesn’t make sense but everyone has reached that stage of inebriation where they encourage any breathing creature to drink more, so Ohyul gets egged on to finish his small cup of soju - peach flavoured, because he thinks every other flavour is garbage. The moment he turns to the table - towards you - to take his drink, you immediately look down at your own glass as if it was the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. He slides his emptied glass across the table and again, the floating hands with an endless alcohol supply appear on your left to fill it right back up.
You can feel Ohyul’s eyes on you and you’re slightly afraid he’s about to say something about your lack of alcohol and you'd really hate to be pressured into drinking more - so you quickly reach out to push his cup back towards him first. He meets you halfway, wrapping his fingers around the rim of the small cup and the pads of his fingers brush against the back of yours.
Immediately, you pull away like you’ve been electrocuted. Your head snaps up, curling your hand in and closing your fist in such haste that your pointer finger catches on the rim of the cup and that stupidly small thing tips over towards you. The sickly sweet liquid starts spreading across the table, and you quickly push your chair back so it doesn’t spill on you. You don’t have paper towels on standby, so you just sigh as the soju drips off the edge of the table, forming a small puddle near your feet.
It’s just your luck that Woojin had begun loudly singing from the far right corner of the table a few seconds ago so this drew minimal attention.
For a split second, you look up from the tiny pool to see Ohyul’s reaction, before tearing your gaze away because your seat neighbour is handing you a bunch of tissues. Unfortunately, half a second is enough to register his expression - cheeks flushed from alcohol and a mildly surprised expression with his lips parted in a slight ‘O’ shape. The person brandishing tissue is on your left, and you realise that its Louis. He had been the overly-generous bartender the whole night. His eyes are suspiciously clear and you just know that getting everyone ridiculously drunk is his petty revenge on everyone jokingly saying that he can’t drink because he’s ‘just a babyyyy!’, despite being old enough years ago with a tolerance that would surprise people.
You take the tissues gratefully and wipe the edge of the table but the soju has mostly already migrated to the floor so you do a cursory wipe across the surface of the table and drop the bunch of tissues into the soju lake to absorb on its own time.
“Are you good?” Louis asks softly, and you can only nod silently as u pull your chair back to the table. You stretch your legs out as you stifle a yawn, and your foot brushes against the table leg and strangely, you notice Ohyul turn to you from the corner of your eye and the table leg… moves away…? You immediately look under the table because the table cannot be bending the laws of physics no matter how drunk you are, and you realise that you did not brush against the table leg - unless Ohyul had changed his name to Table in the past 35 seconds. You close your eyes in defeat and draw your legs back awkwardly.
In your moment of weakness, Louis betrays you by announcing that after Ohyul makes his toast, you shall go next, because you spilled his drink. You smack Louis on the arm as Ohyul stands up for his toast.
“Let’s see… I wanna raise a toast to the people who refuse to reply to my messages,” Ohyul raises a different, filled glass in the air and you might be mistaken but he swivels ever so slightly in your direction before dropping his voice and continuing, “Or… just the person.”
The scandalised chorus of ‘Ooh’s and ‘Ahh’s from the table drown out the last few words of his statement, and without it, it’s just a common problem in the workplace. Your colleagues joyfully take a swig of their drinks and you wish you could unhear that last bit, but the tiny coil of dread in your gut knows that he said to for you. To you. You relinquish your grip on your abandoned cup and you begin to wish you had drunk more so you could forget this tomorrow. No such luck, though, because Louis has abandoned his bartending position to usher you to make the next toast.
You squeeze your eyes shut and imagine shanking Louis with the nearest bottle opener before slowly getting up. Your colleagues are looking at you expectantly and you take this freely-given opportunity.
“Uh… We should cheers to someone that avoids all their problems,” You say, voice surprisingly steady in the silence. A statement thats just general enough.
Louis claps you on the back and the table loudly hums in agreement. Fragmented feedback reaches you - “That’s so me,” “Yo that is so real…” and notably, Woojin slowly going: “…what’s the beef?”. But he gets ignored in favour of everyone reaching for their drinks again. Relieved from the pressure, you take advantage of the chatter and carefully look at the one person you indirectly said this to.
Ohyul does not drink. Instead, his jaw is clenched and he is looking somewhere above your head - pointedly not looking at you. You got him. The victory is short lived, though, because to your dismay he stands up the moment you sit down and raises his empty glass. Surely not…
“Let’s raise a toast to the people who said they needed you and then disappeared!” He says with a strange gusto. Nobody is really registering the contents of the toast at this point - they’re just looking for any excuse to drink so nobody raises an eyebrow to the misplaced venom in his words - they just whoop and reach for a refill. Your eyebrows draw together in disbelief and anger because you know he said that just for you and you cannot believe that these are his first words to you in weeks! It’s so uncalled for that you snatch up Louis’ glass of mystery drink and forgetting that the relationship between you and Ohyul was a secret to everyone, you say the meanest thing you can think of in your clouded state-
“We should probably raise a toast for the times that you never called me.”
Now, your colleagues aren’t drunk enough to let that statement pass unquestioned so you receive a few questioning glances. Half the table stops talking to process what you just shouted and panic begins to set in. However, you got the reaction you wanted. Ohyul’s head snaps up to meet your eyes and you feel a jolt of shock in your chest. You just wanted to defend yourself but in his eyes is not anger or retaliation - he looks hurt. He blinks and as quickly as the hurt manifested on his face, it disappears under the usual mask of an easy-going smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You only have a second to recover before your colleagues successfully decipher your toast so you look away and say the first rallying word you can conjure up.
“HUZZAH!” You say, and down the mystery amber liquid in the stolen glass, praying that everyone would be too far gone to think too deeply. They did, in fact, overlook your statement - but only because you choke on the drink and start coughing so badly they become concerned instead. You didn’t know what you expected to be in Louis’ cup, but it sure wasn’t straight fireball whiskey. This violent coughing fit ends the night, thankfully leaving no more openings for awkward passive-aggressive encounters with Ohyul.
“Huzzah? Why was that the only word you could think of..?” Louis slings his bag over his chest, and you know he asked just to poke fun at you so you scrunch your face up and make a ‘Tsk!’ noise.
“But are you okay?” Louis asks for real this time, and you can hear the apology in his voice. You just smile and wave him away - he's unknowingly done enough damage to you and your pride tonight. You stuff your belongings into your bag as he almost insists on walking you home but he gets pulled away in conversation by someone behind you. You don't bother turning around to tell him you're going - you just slip away.
The cool, dry air hits you the moment you step outside and you take in a deep breath to clear your head and exhale it all in a puff of air. That supper was entirely too eventful, and not in a good way. The chatter behind you fades away and you can't help but think about how the whole reason you asked for a break in the relationship was because Ohyul was so closed off the whole time - he never told you anything without you prompting, he never told you when he was having a hard time and he would just shut down and walk away from any conversation even bordering on emotional. You accepted invitation after invitation to spend time with him during the break, hoping he would just talk, but he never opened up. So you stopped talking, stopped replying and stopped opening your door to him.
You reach the other side of the street when a voice calls out from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts.
“Hey,” Ohyul says, “I'll walk you home.”
Your eyes jump to his face. In the dim illumination of the sparse streetlamps, you can't see his face very well. You would refuse, but after whatever went down at supper, you suspect that he finally wants to have a long overdue conversation. So you let him catch up to you.
“How did you know I left? I didn't even tell Louis..?” You ask, not really because you want to know - more out of politeness than anything else.
“I… uh, distracted him and talked him out of walking you home so that I could… do it instead,” he says quietly, eyes downcast.
You hum in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue but he just keeps walking, his eyes trained on the pavement, not saying a word. You glance at him questioningly but he refuses to look at you.
You walk ten steps.
Twenty steps.
Fifty.
A hundred.
Anger, resentment and confusion suddenly flares in your chest, a familiar feeling. If he was going to stay stubbornly silent like every other time he asked you to talk, then why did he choose to walk you home then? You're so sick of being the one to initiate, to speak up first and bridge the gap all the time. But this time, as quickly as the fire burst in you, it's subdued by the heavy feeling of tiredness.
The further you walk, the heavier it weighs on your chest until it almost feels like a physical shround covering you. You realise that this is just like every other time - him asking to see you, to eat with you, to talk, just for minimal superficial words to be exchanged. You got your hopes up for nothing and you’re so tired of this.
You keep walking.
Two hundred.
Five hundred.
Nine hundred steps before you lose count and start again - by this time, almost ten minutes had passed in silence. You refuse to speak first out of spite, and you keep counting your steps so you don't have to think about the seemingly mute figure beside you.
Eleven minutes and one thousand two hundred and ninety eight steps later, you arrive at your apartment building. You have to take a deep breath and clench your fists to stop yourself from frantically pressing the Close button before he can step into the elevator with you. The low hum of the elevator seems especially loud tonight, weakly filling the cold silence between the two of you. You step out on your floor, and still he stays silent. You fumble with your keys, the metal pieces clinking together sharply - extra noisy at 3:42am. The moment you unlock your door, back turned to him, Ohyul finally speaks up.
“Wait,” He starts, and you see his shadow shifting behind you, cast by the yellowing lights in the corridor. “I…"
He trails off, and you pause. Your front door is unlocked now but you make no move to push it open. You just stop moving with your hand frozen on the doorknob, almost like trying not to frighten an animal off, waiting for him to say something - anything, even if it's to get angry with you for what you said at the table.
The city is asleep at 3:43am, there's no traffic and no neighbours to fill the silence and so the pause stretches for a long, long time. You watch his shadow fidget uncomfortably and you wait for him just like you've done the past few weeks, forcing your patience to hold out just a little bit more. He sighs heavily, and seems physically unable to get his words out.
He finally says “… it's nothing,” and your patience, strung thin for weeks, just snaps.
You don't bother saying anything, you just kick your shoes off and push your door open. You hear him calling out behind you, almost begging for you to “wait, please…!” but you're done with waiting. You step into your apartment and leave him at your doorstep, closing the door in his face. You see that same flash of hurt in his eyes again, but you tell yourself you don't care anymore. You lock your apartment door, taking extra care to make sure he hears the key turning in the lock and immediately get into the shower.
You tell yourself that he can stand outside for as long as he wants. You tell yourself that you don't care if he never speaks to you ever again. You repeat this to yourself in the shower and you tell yourself that you're just keeping track of the time when you check you phone afterwards. You tell yourself that you're just checking that you locked your door properly as you look through the peephole to your empty corridor.
You finally crawl into bed at 4:22am.
Your phone glows in the darkness with a notification and you blink at it when you bring it up to your face. Its the first message you've gotten from him in three weeks that wasn't from the company group chat, and apparently it's easier for him to say things over text - because its strangely vulnerable. You stare at it for two long minutes before letting the phone fall onto the mattress, losing it in the blanket as you roll over with a soft exhale.
You don't respond.
That day never leaves your mind, and your once solid resolve to maintain no-contact is crumbling. You find yourself re-reading the last two messages he sent, and you've drafted and deleted a dozen different responses to it. You ended up sending zero.
To distract yourself from calling him impulsively on a tuesday night, you open up your company files and sort through them. You successfully sort through 3 big files before your fingers are itching to key in [email protected] in the email search bar. Your hands act on their own accord and got as far as “kwonohyul@pro-” before you manage to slam your laptop shut. You stand up, desperately looking for something else to occupy yourself and you find… nothing.
You check the time on your phone - it's 2am exactly.
The exhaustion that had been slowly seeping into your bones over the past hour suddenly opens its floodgates and you find yourself on the floor of your bedroom, motionless. Even under this spell of weariness, you still open Ohyul’s chatroom to reread his text again.
You turn your head to the large analogue clock on your wall. The desk lamp on the other side of the room bathes the clock in a soft glow, giving it an almost dreamlike quality. The clock hands sitting perfectly at 2:00 seem to taunt you. Every single time you have felt the urge to reach out to him again, its always 2am.
Just a month ago, you would have been on videocall with Ohyul at this time, talking about nothing and everything until the sun rose. His favourite time to talk was when the world was asleep and it was just you and him until the light of sunrise hit his face and he was reduced to a sleepy, mumbling mess - work be damned. Even then, you two never ran out of things to say.
You met him when you started working for the music label as their first administrator half a year ago, when they were just getting enough recognition that they needed a bigger staff.
You were so nervous about starting at the job that you couldn't remember everyone's names, only vaguely noting the 4 producers - but during the staff lunch they pulled together to welcome you to the team, you vividly remember that one producer guy with a cute toothy smile. That guy - you later find out is “Kwon Ohyul, lead producer,” - had a rather stoic expression most of the time, but you noticed that he would press the long sleeves of his shirt to his lips when you spoke. You grew ever so slightly self conscious but by the end of that lunch, he had forgotten about it and he was looking down at his coffee and smiling to himself every time you made eye contact with him.
Your job was great for your introverted self, where you and your colleagues would communicate via email and messages. Technically speaking, nobody had to actually speak to you at work for you to do your job effectively - but they did, of course, because everyone was so friendly. The nature of your role allowed you to work from home for 2 out of 5 weekdays, and you took full advantage of it.
However, Kwon Ohyul made it a point to personally approach you at your desk to ask for client details and documents, even after you told him that he could have sent an email. He would offer the same smile he hid behind his sleeves at your first lunch, and say, “I don't mind it, do you?” and you would always shake your head, smiling in return.
You didn't know much about music production at all, much preferring to work on the logistics of the company - but Lead Producer Kwon Ohyul made a habit of inviting you into his studio to listen to his various demos. It was definitely not the norm, because Ryul, Woojin and Louis didn't invite other people into their studios. He insisted that he needed your ‘fresh perspective’ and someone who would listen to his works as a whole without nitpicking on the individual components, and who were you to dispute the lead producer? Besides… you didn't mind spending extra time with the extra good-looking guy - so you let yourself get pulled into his dimly lit studio again and again.
He made adjustments in his work from your shy comments, and he convinced you to record a few lines for his demos, claiming that “a female voice will help the client see the vision..!” and that it would also make your job easier. You made a show of reluctantly obliging, perched on the corner of his desk, but would always give in anyway. He would take you out for meals afterwards as thanks, and over time it just turned into eating together just because - and you liked it. You liked him.
You were in charge of the paperwork, but he incorporated you into his art, his world, his life.
You and Ohyul started dating three months after your started your job at the music label - keeping it a secret from your colleagues because god forbid the HR intern catch you.
You called him ‘Yul’ in private - whispers in his studio, over late night calls and under your covers.
The relationship got so intense very quickly. Ohyul was so, so intense. He needed you like he needed oxygen to breathe - he was greedy and possessive over you all the time and he wouldn't let up. It was obvious that he wanted you so badly, and you wanted to give it all to him but it never seemed like enough. He would get jealous and upset that you had any friends, let alone any guy friends. He questioned you when you were out with your friends and he was just so… distrustful.
He grabbed your wrist instead of holding your hand and he kissed you like he wanted to eat you alive - like he was showing the world you belonged to him, instead of doing it to show he loved you. And yet, he managed to be so closed-off. You willingly let him know you, but every bit of information about him you had to painstakingly extract. The strange dissonance between wanting you so much, yet not wanting you to know him - you gave too much and got so little in return.
It scared you.
Too much, too soon, and not in the way you needed. You wanted a steady, tender presence in your life, not this all-consuming push and pull of obsession. So, as much as you wanted him, you had to take a step back.
The promised week turned into a fortnight, then a month - and Ohyul was struggling.
He would message you constantly, saying “i miss u” and ask to meet but all the encounters were empty again and again. You could tell that he had so much to say, but he couldn't find the damn words and you decided that it wasn't your problem anymore. So you stopped bothering.
The last time he tried was 3 weeks before the company dinner, where he showed up to your doorstep with your favourite milk tea order in his hand.
He had messaged you the night before, obviously drunk and out of it.
You'd read and reread his texts as you sat on your sofa, legs curled up underneath you. It felt like a twisted parallel to the romance movie you'd just put on and you wanted to scream. You turned the TV off and went to sleep, mind racing.
Then he apologised the next day, as if this wasn't the only time he had come close to being open about his feelings in the months you knew him.
He materialised on your doorstep in an oversized navy sweater, with sleeves pulled up to his elbow and a white button-up peeking out at his collar and hem - he looked good. Ohyul knocked on your door in 20 second intervals and you quietly watched him through your peephole, clutching your phone that lit up intermittently with notifications from him.
You wanted to let him in so badly, but he hadn't changed and he wasn't going to love you the way you needed him to. It was only going to hurt more to give him another chance just for him to shut down again.
It's over, you think to yourself.
By the fifth text, you had closed your eyes and leaned on the smooth wood of your door, slowly crumpling to the ground. You ended up sitting on your own scratchy ‘Welcome’ mat, feeling his knocks get softer and less certain against your back as you stared silently at the chipped edge of your coffee table - forcing your twitching fingers to stay put. Your phone laid face down next to you, still open to Ohyul’s chatroom.
You did not open your door that day, and you walked out the following afternoon to a cup of milk tea next to your shoes, the melted ice forming a separated layer atop the warmed drink.
He stopped trying after that, and the three weeks of silence were impossibly loud. It was amplified by your loneliness at work - you didn't realise how isolating the job was without his in-person visits and the invitations to his studio. He would simply email you about work and ask you things in the company groupchat, never anything personal anymore. You felt so…. alone.
You thought he had moved on - or at least that he was trying to - until that damned company dinner.
A week after the dinner, he sends a text.
You're at home, on one of your remote working days, dressed in a loose pajama set when you read it. After all that silence, he suddenly wants you in his studio? You begrudgingly tell him to get Ryul instead, but he replies immediately to refuse. He wants you. You pause and consider your options.
He's technically higher up in the working hierachy than you are, but its such a small and close-knit company that nobody pulls rank. You both know it, so you know he's asking you because Yul wants you there, not Kwon Ohyul, Lead Producer.
And… he said “please”, which is something you have a soft spot for. Combining this with his typo of “need u” and fully saying he wanted you to be there over Ryul… you hop in the shower after careful deliberation.
You enter the building at 7:31pm, and its empty. Everyone has gone home for the day, so the lights and AC are turned off. You turn a corner to enter a long hallway that branches off into the separate offices and in the darkness, you can see a soft blue glow through the frosted glass of the last door - Ohyul’s studio.
You hesitate for a fraction of a second - maybe this was a mistake - but you keep walking because of the little bubble of hope in your chest that this could work out. That same tiny flame that couldn't be extinguished even when you chose to stop responding to him.
You push open the door to his studio and the freezing air inside rushes out to greet you first, followed by a faint scent of lavender.
You freeze, door open a few inches wide, because you mentioned that you liked lavender the second time you entered his studio and he swapped out his preferred sandalwood spray to a lavender one by the next time you walked in. Apparently, he still kept his studio smelling of lavender even after he stopped inviting you over and stopped reaching out weeks ago. The small bell hanging on the inside tinkles.
The door gets pulled open from the other side, and Ohyul stands in front of you. He's draped in a well worn black long sleeved top, the loose neckline exposing his collarbones and the sleeves covering the palm of his hands. His tousled hair falls over his dark lashes and he looks like… a mess.
“You came,” he says, looking somewhat stunned and blinking down at you.
“You called,” you return quietly, dropping your gaze to his collarbones because the way he's looking at you is so intense you can't maintain eye contact.
You watch his chest rise and fall with a quick breath before he steps back and motions for you to come inside.
You step into that familiar studio, the LED lights washing the room in a light blue glow. Everything is just how you remember it - an organised mess. A giant monitor screen showing the latest project, and the scattered pages and notebooks strewn on the desk in front of it. You can tell he's stressed because its a little extra messy, and so is he.
“Sorry about the mess.” he says, gesturing over his table. “You know how I am with deadlines.”
You nod, lips pressed together because you do know how he is with deadlines and you also know how he is with everything else and its almost painful how distant you two are now. You're also well aware of every deadline on all current projects and none of them are coming in the next 2 weeks, but you let it slide.
You turn to look at the bright monitor questioningly, then back at him again - wordlessly prompting him to address the reason he asked you to come here.
“Oh, right. I wanted you to listen to this demo I've been working on.” He rushes, turning towards the screen and pushing a stray notebook aside to maneuver his mouse.
He clicks into an untitled project and the program loads on the screen, a jumble of incomprehensible colourful dashes against a grey background. He hands you his headphones, cord connected to his speakers - you take 2 steps forward so the cable doesnt get yanked out, and you end up right by the edge of the table, where you used to sit. You remain standing because even though the studio looks the same, everything has changed.
You place the headphones on your head and Ohyul presses play.
The instruments echo in your head, blending to form an almost ethereal sound. It's bass and… something else you can't identify, but the melancholy is so different from anything you've heard from him you can't stop yourself from gasping softly. Ohyul’s voice is immediately recognisable to you, and he's softly singing one line over and over - I can never let you go, go, go…
Theres a gap in the vocals and the beat comes in, heavy in your ears. The bass is a steady presence in the background, and you nod your head, following the beat. Your eyes fixate on a small bundle of dried lavender on top of one of the speakers, still resting where you placed it all those months ago. Then…
So where you at when I need you most?
We should probably raise a toast
for the times that you never called me,
You're stunned, turning to look at him, your eyes immediately searching for his. The familiar line sung in his voice, repeating from your stupid toast a week ago. You lose track of the lyrics now, watching his face - he'd looked away immediately when you turned, eyes downcast and guilty.
You decide to ask about it later and just listen first.
Tell me this ain't right,
this ain't right, no, no
His voice is so… familiar in the headphones and your chest aches more than you'd like to admit. The music echoes relentlessly in your hollow chest.
It's 2 a.m, you and I
used to talk until the morning
It's day and night, hurry now
Baby, let's just take it slowly today
I don't wanna miss out on much today
I don't wanna live like this all day
Take my hand and don't you run away, away
I'll be on your way
His voice stops and the individual instruments trail off at different times - you keep the headphones on until its completely silent. You realise the lyrics reflect your own feelings over the past few weeks and you exhale, caught between a sigh and an exasperated laugh. The universe is so cruel for doing this to you.
You slowly pry the headphones off your ears and set it on the table, keeping your eyes on the glowing monitor but you're not looking at the program. You stare at the very faint reflection of Ohyul on the screen, where he's not staring at you expectantly for feedback as he usually would be. He actually seems fixated on the ground near his feet, almost afraid to look at you. You try and push aside your feelings to form objective feedback, but it suddenly hits you. His unusual behaviour… he's not actually asking for your opinion.
He's trying to tell you something.
“Can I see the lyrics?” You ask tentatively to his bowed head.
He hands you a battered spiral notebook, already open to the written lyrics of this song. The lyrics disregarded the lines on the pages completely, and you can see a few ink splotches and deep divots in the paper where he presumably scrawled the words with force.
You read the lyrics you just heard, deciphering the scribbles and overlapping words slowly. You note some lines stolen from your words, your conversations and even your thoughts and you don't know what to make of it.
You exhale again, loud in the quiet studio.
“… So?” He finally speaks up, raising his head halfway to look at you through his lashes.
“Its… good,” You say carefully.
The air is thick with a thousand unsaid things - he knows that you know, and you know that because he's looking at you with timid anticipation in his eyes and he's waiting for you to acknowledge it.
“So… what is this about? The lyrics, I mean.” You finally speak again, feigning ignorance to confirm your theory. “What client is this for?”
“It's not for a client. I just had to… get this off my chest.” He says.
“But the lyrics - what do they mean?” You press further, giving him yet another chance to just talk.
Ohyul tilts his head up to look at you properly now, a myriad of colours cast on his face from the bright monitor screen and the ambient blue lights. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but his eyes seem to shine brighter as he looks into yours - more open, more honest.
“You know what this is about.” He says. Its a firm statement, and it sends a bright spark of anger down your spine.
If he had so much to say, why didn't he just tell you? The whole facade of pretending he needed your opinion on a project was so… unnecessary. His refusal to elaborate after asking you to be here just ticked you off more.
“This what you called me here for? To listen to a… confession?” You ask, tossing the notebook back onto his table where the force sent a few loose pages flying off the table. The noise was sudden and loud in the quiet room, and he flinches slightly.
“This is a new low for you, Ohyul.” You continue, anger lacing your voice now. You stare at him, your sharp gaze boring into his wide eyes.
“Wait, it's not-” He starts, brows furrowed, but you cut him off.
“Using work to bait me into coming here? Did you think you were clever?”
“It's not like that, I just can't… express myself properly.” He says, sounding like he's forcing the words out.
“I know.” You say, voice flat. “That's why we won't work together.”
Your matter-of-fact tone slices through the air and your words ring in the silence. His eyelids flutter and his gaze drops to the ground again, shoulders curling inwards as he runs a hand through his hair. You hear him sigh, the exhale long and defeated.
You mentally give him five seconds to reply before you walk away.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
“You won't talk to me, you won't text me back, you won't answer your door…” He says quietly. “I just needed you to hear this.”
He's still looking at the ground, twisting his fingers in his lap. A strange feeling fills your chest and it takes you a second to identify it - it's not pain, or sadness, or even anger anymore. You feel… guilty. This catches you off guard and you don't know what to do, and your only instinct is to run.
“… I have to go.”
You mechanically turn your body to the door, away from the lavender scented studio, away from that demo, away from Kwon Ohyul. Your mind is racing a million miles an hour and you barely register your legs moving to take you away from this mess, your fingers numb.
Your hand is on the handle, already pulling the door open and your brain is buzzing too loudly now to notice Ohyul taking a big step forward but you're snapped out of it when a large hand circles around your wrist.
You stop, arm frozen against the door and your mind suddenly quiet.
“At least let me explain while I have you here.” He whispers, the vulnerability so apparent in his voice that you have to turn back around and see it for yourself.
He looks like a kicked puppy, eyes big and sad as he looks at you.
“I… have a hard time expressing myself and I know that it's why we couldn't work.” He begins, his voice wavering as he speaks. “It's really uncomfortable for me to say things out loud and it feels like… like I'm exposing myself in a really bad way.
“Even though I know it's normal to tell you things, I just get so… I don't know. It feels like my throat closes up and I don't know what to say.”
His hand falls off your wrist and he tries to look into your eyes but he ends up looking down again, his fingers feverishly twisting the hem of his shirt. You watch him struggle to speak his mind and the effort it takes him only annoys you more. Someone who has to work this hard to be open wasn't someone you needed.
“But I can try. I can try for you.” He says softly - almost timidly.
Your chest tightens, and you suck in a breath.
“Don't pretend to be someone you're not.” You say eventually, forcing your voice to be steady.
“I won't be. I'm just…” He trails off, and he obviously can't think of anything better to say so you nod.
“Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine.”
“I don't- It's not fine, and I know you're lying to-”
“I'm lying? You're lying to yourself right now but I'm the liar?” You spit back, mocking and sarcastic and cutting. A small voice in your head says that he's right - you are a liar, and it's not fine - but you push it away to make space for that terrible feeling bubbling up in your chest. Telling him how you feel seems pathetic now, so you just let the fury wash over you.
“No, that's not what I meant.” He says, desperate words spilling from his lips. “It's just that I don't think you're okay with this… situation. You pretend you're fine but I haven't seen you smile in weeks, and every time I see you in the office you just look so hollow.
“You don't respond to me and you don't even look at me anymore, but it's obviously affecting you so please, just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it. If you want me to keep begging for you to come back, I will. If you want me to leave you the fuck alone, I will - but just tell me what you want because I hate this silence.”
You stare coldly at him, his face finally warm and open and pleading - and you slowly realise that the roles have switched within this meeting.
You've become the one with impenetrable walls around yourself and Ohyul is the one trying to bridge the gap. You'd let the anger and spite consume you. This realisation feels like a physical hit square to your chest, and your lips part slightly in a soft exhale. Fuck.
You're doing what you were punishing Ohyul for.
A heavy dread creeps up your chest, your fingers going cold as you stand in the silence and you tear your gaze away, eyes darting around the room as you slowly step backwards. Your hand braces behind your back and fumbles at the door handle before you turn around to yank the door open. The tiny bell tinkles on its ribbon, and the sound fades as you walk away from the studio, eyes stinging.
Ohyul doesn't say anything, doesn't chase after you, doesn't stop you again this time.
Tears fall from your eyes for the first time in weeks before you even get to the glass double doors, blurring your vision. Head pounding, you furiously swipe the salty droplets away with the back of your hands but they don't stop - the twenty minutes it takes for you to walk home is spent crying into your hands, ragged breathing almost painful against the tightness in your chest.
Maybe you were wrong.
You don't know what to do, so you do nothing. You go through the motions of work and life, eyes glazed over and your mind racing all the time. You’re so preoccupied you spill a cup of coffee in the office one day, staining the carpet near your feet - a glaring reminder of the limbo you’re trapped in.
You fucked up and you knew it, but you just didn't know what to tell him.
Four days later he sends you an audio file.
You're lying on your couch, doomscrolling your evening away after completing your work duties until you get his text. You feel the panic in your spine surging and you sit bolt upright, eyes wide.
Did he send this to the wrong person? Maybe it was intended for the other producers, but you were curious. You wouldn't admit it - even to yourself - but the demo he showed you has been stuck in your head. The melody, his voice, the lyrics.
Against your better judgement, you click into the file.
I can never let you go, go, go
I can never let you go, go, go
It's that same song, but the file is a little over three minutes long… he finished it?
The song washes over you again, strangely soothing. The knot in the pit of your stomach loosens as you hear his voice echoing in your mind, and you can’t help but adore the slight rasp in his lines.
You pick up on a few lines as you slump back down on your couch, blankly staring up at the ceiling.
We should probably raise a toast
For the times that you never called me
Tell me this ain’t right,
this ain’t right, no, no
I don’t want to let things slip away one by one, I say
It’s 2am, you and I,
Used to talk until the morning.
You said that I’m the only one that you need
But why did you go?
I know you hate me,
but I always try
Words stolen from your toast, his texts, and his thoughts that reflected yours even when you two weren’t talking. You throw a hand over your face, screwing your eyes shut and sighing loudly.
Then the music stops, and his voice rings out in the void.
You say it’s fine, but I know you’re lying.
I hope this isn’t the end,
Your last conversation. You open your eyes again, clutching your phone to your chest as the last verse plays out. In the silence after the song ends, you can’t stop your mind from racing. He must have made this when you started ignoring him - the lyrics were a tapestry of the past month, dictating your interactions and his feelings in every line. Fuck.
The whole song is about you.
The melancholy in the instrumentals, the pain in his voice… all your doing.
The guilt burns in your stomach now, and a sickleningly familiar scene plays out again - you, staring at his text on your phone, not knowing how to respond. You almost don’t reply at all, your finger already on the power button of your phone when he sends another text.
You stare at his message, reading and rereading them over and over until you can feel a headache growing from the back of your head from the blood pounding through your body. Your numb fingers find the audio file again, and you keep the song on loop as you get off the couch to do anything to distract yourself.
But those few words are the tipping point for you, and you finally decide to reply when you’re halfway through dusting the top of your shelves.
You answer simply: “u will try?”
Even though you took nearly two hours to reply, his text back was instant.
You're caught off guard by this request, and you scramble to decide if you're ready or not.
Were you ready to face him? After the fallout, after the silence, after that incident in his studio…? You want to see him - of course you do - but you needed at least one day of mental preparation. However… to tell him “No” felt like the opposite of progression.
You sway in your kitchen, apprehension rooting you to the cold tiles for six whole minutes.
Then a knock sounds from your door.
You shuffle towards it, dropping your phone on the coffee table on the way, still looping his song. Mindlessly you pull the door open, expecting another online purchase to materialise on your doorstep but it's not even close.
At 9:53pm, you come face to face with Kwon Ohyul is standing on your doorstep.
Your eyes fly wide open in shock, lost for words at the person before you - like a deer caught in headlights. His face is flushed pink in the dim corridor lighting and he's out of breath, his chest rising and falling quickly. He quickly composes himself, his shoes scuffling on your doorstep as he pulls himself together.
“I know you didn't say if I could come see you or not, but I just…” He swallows, his words punctuated by his breathing. “… I just wanted to… uh… promise you.”
He hesitantly holds up his pinky finger.
A pinky promise.
It's so absurd after the weeks of tension and silent fighting and its so childish you almost laugh. But you don't, and instead your eyes flicker between his hand and his face, looking for any trace of humour but there's none.
He's completely serious, and you're so endeared by this you can't suppress the small smile that curves on your lips, and instinctively raise your own hand to slowly hook your pinky in his.
“Okay. You promise.” You say, pressing your lips together so you don't start grinning like an idiot.
Despite your mild reaction, he exhales and tightens his hold on your pinky, breaking out into that big smile of his.
“Yes, I promise.” He affirms, and you realise you haven't seen him smile so brightly in weeks, open and warm and sincere, and now you're smiling too. You let yourself feel everything now - how much you've really missed him and having him next to you. Everything feels different now, in a good way. Softer, warmer - less possessive and more gentle.
You look down at your intertwined pinkies between you two, and you suddenly feel the need to say something for yourself.
“I'm sorry for the way I acted the other day. I didn't mean what I said.” You blurt out, chewing on your bottom lip. “I was being really defensive.”
He shakes his head, still smiling.
“It’s okay, I was kinda wrong for suddenly springing all of that on you anyway.” He says, and you both laugh softly.
“Actually, how did you get here so quicky? Were you… nearby?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.
“Oh I was uh… at the studio when you replied me.” He says, slightly sheepishly.
You pause.
“The office is a twenty minute walk from here. How did you…?”
“Yeah, well… I ran…” He mumbles, his other hand scratching the back of his neck and you watch him flush a deeper pink. So that’s why he was so out of breath…
He clears his throat unnaturally loud.
“Anyway… I guess I’ll get going. See you at the meeting tomorrow.” He says, almost theatrically. You almost nod along with him before realising that you don’t want him to go yet. So he loosens his grip on your pinky and turns to leave, but you don’t let go.
He pauses at the first sign of resistance and turns to look at you, and wow, maybe he really has changed because you’ve never seen his eyes be so unguarded - wide and hopeful and questioning and damn near sparkling. And maybe it’s just the lights hitting him at this angle, but the flush hasn’t yet left his face and his lips are softly parted and he looks so pretty with his messy hair falling over his eyes, your brain short-circuits and you end up just staring at him for a few seconds.
“… Have you eaten?” You finally manage to say.
“Oh, no I haven’t. I was gonna cook some noo-”
“I have ramen. It’s the one you like. You left it here a few months ago and I… don’t like that flavour… so…” You say quickly, trailing off somewhat awkwardly, hoping he picks up on your offer.
His face lights up with another big smile, eyes creasing and he just nods at you.
You step backwards, pulling him into your apartment by your interlocked pinkies. He has to stop to frantically kick his shoes off, and the both of you giggle breathlessly as he nearly trips doing it.
He trails behind you as you lead him to the kitchen and you hear him breathe out a laugh when he spots your phone on the table, still playing his song.
notes!
the lngshot brainrot really got me and i had to write a fic about this song. im not the best at writing, so be nice to me :)
𝜗౿ dark romance, obsessed!ohyul x f!reader, use of y/n, 2.6k words, hint of submissive!ohyul, yandere!ohyul, tw, kissing & skin ship
tag list @somswib @whitelittlecinnamon @maddybuckets @wintericysnow @stanlngshot4sho @rickyshensgirlfriend @vvidka @kurafairy @yatta-exe @flaminghotyourmom
credit for top divider!! @cursed-carmine
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5
you stood next to a nervous ohyul, who kept glancing at you as he bit his nails nervously. you put his hand down, making him swallow. “don’t do that.”
the door in front of you opened, revealing louis. the young boys eyes widened, his eyes darting from ohyul to you repeatedly. “umm..”
“ohyul has something to say.”
you nudge the boy next to you, who looked extremely embarrassed.
“i wanted to apologize,” he mumbled, staring down. you elbowed him, hard. it was enough to let ohyul know to look up and stare at louis in the eyes. “i would never hurt you and your family, i was just trying to scare you. i.. i was told you were bothering y/n but i took it out of context. now i know that you’re just a kid with a crush.”
you nodded, looking at louis who looked surprised. “oh, uhh thanks. i appreciate that.”
ohyul nodded, bowing 90 degrees. “i hope you can forgive me, and once again i’m truly sorry.”
louis nodded, his eyes shifting to you. “hi noona.” he said, grin wide and cheeks slightly red. you smirked a little once you felt how stiff ohyul went. “hi louis, we’re gonna get going but we’re back to our regular schedule?”
“for sure!” he said with a happy laugh. you chuckled, waving at him before dragging ohyul by his sweater.
“i still don’t like that he likes you.” ohyul said, giving you a side glance. you shrug, “too bad, he’s a kid and you’re not my boyfriend.”
ohyul gulped, looking down before nodding.
“i’m gonna drop you off at home.” you tell him, but he immediately shakes his head no. “let me stay with you, please?”
“and your parents are cool with that?”
“who cares? i’m 18.”
“yet you’re living under their roof, so i’m sure they care.” you say, stopping in front of your house. “they get home late anyway.. please, noona?”
you sigh, debating it. i mean, your parents weren’t home. they usually get back at 6 during weekdays. with little to no convincing, you nod. “fine, let’s go.”
you could see ohyul jump in excitement from the corner of your eye as you unlock the door. as soon as both of yall step inside, loud barks can be heard from your room.
ohyul looks surprised. “you have a big dog?” you nod, “yeah, problem?”
he quickly shook his head, “no, just imagined you’d have a small dog.” he said as he followed right behind you towards your room.
“close the door,” you say, quickly laying in bed as milo gives you multiple kisses. “what should we do?”
ohyul shrugged, staring at your figure laid up in bed. “uhhm, movie?”
you nod in agreement.
that’s how you ended up here, with ohyul almost on top of you as he begged for any sort of love.
you could hear milo let out a loud sigh, his large form laying down at the foot of your bed. it’s almost like he was tired of ohyul’s begging.
“just a kiss.” he whimpered, hiding his face in your neck. you sigh, pushing his head back gently.
“no.” you say quickly, not even thinking about it too deeply. his lips opened but nothing came out for a while. he stared at you like a child who just got told no for the first time.
“please.. just one kiss.” he whispered desperately, moving closer to you. you stayed silent, turning back to the tv. he practically threw himself at you.
‘i wonder how edward dealt with bella crying over his popsicle stick.’ you couldn’t help but wonder as you watch bella crying on the screen.
“i’ll be happy with anything,” ohyul mumbled. he was so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. “just a kiss, please noona?”
you sigh, finally facing him.
“you just can’t take no for an answer, hm?”
“i-i respect your decision, and i’ll stop if you truly want me too but i can see that you want it too.”
you quirked an eyebrow, “oh, yeah? how can you tell?”
“your eyes keep looking down at my lips and your ears are kinda red.”
you chuckle, scratching the back of your neck. “how convenient.” you mumble, eyes narrowed as you look into his doe eyes, his long eyelashes catching your attention.
his lips curved into a small smile, “i like when you look at me like that.” he whispered.
“yeah?”
he nodded, leaning up to leave a soft kiss in the corner of your lips. when he pulled back, you were almost nose to nose. you mustered up the courage and closed the space between you and him.
and soft ‘hmm’ left the back of his throat as he melted into the kiss, tilting his head to kiss you better.
your hands came up to his hair, fingers tugging on his hair. a soft moan left his lips, his hands sneaking around to hold onto your waist, his grip so tight that you almost wanted to complain.
almost.
“i love you,” he said, pulling back quickly just to dive back in. “so much.”
“i know honey.” you whisper. you couldn’t deny the feelings you got when you heard a whinny moan leave his lips.
you felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip, which made you pull away. a whimper left his already swollen lips, “no.. come back..”
you giggle, gently smacking his cheek. “we’re not dating, we’re not anything as of now. so, i don’t think it’s the right thing to start swirling tongues.”
he stayed silent, “let’s date then.” you raise an eyebrow, “you want me to be your girlfriend?”
he nodded eagerly, “yeah, so bad.”
“and you expect me to say yes when you ask like that?”
ohyul stayed silent, oh you were gonna make him work for it. he quickly got up, grabbing his shoes and grabbing his bag in a hurry like he was being chased.
you sat up, confused. “uhh, where are you going?”
“home, i know how to make you mine.” he said, leaving a soft kiss on your lips before running out your bedroom door. you hear him slam the front door shut before silence filled your house, the movie playing in the background long forgotten.
at school 🏫
“he’s been avoiding me,” you sighed. yunjin pressed his lips together. “are you sure?”
“he saw me then sprinted the other way.”
yoonchae frowned, “he’s literally obsessed with you, why would he run away?” you shrugged, glancing down at your phone.
“maybe he’s over you?” a voice said from behind you. the trio turned around and were met with ryul and a random boy with long hair.
“maybe you need to shut the fuck up.” you mumbled, not believing a single word that came out of his mouth.
ryul shrugged, pecking yoonchae’s cheek as he sat next to her. the long hair boy quickly sat next to ryul, looking awkward as ever.
“you never know. also, this is woojin, my best bud.”
you lift your eyes to the junior before waving, “hi, i’m y/n.”
“i’m yoonchae.”
“i’m yunjin.”
he bowed, a nervous smile evident on his lips before locking eyes with yunjin. a soft mutter left his lips, “woah..”
yunjin raised a brow in question as ryul laughed. “love at first sight.”
you payed them no mind, a sudden thought running through your head. “i’m surprised yunha and her minions left us alone.”
“oh, right!” yunjin exclaimed like the answer to a puzzle she’s been dying to solve suddenly hit her. “she’s literally so irrelevant that i forgot this happened but she tried saying some shit to me after we saved ohyul and i told her that my uncle’s a college admissions officer.”
a laugh escaped your mouth, “no way.”
“yes way, i told her that my uncle has to power to make sure she doesn’t get into her dream college if she doesn’t leave people alone and she’s been quiet ever since.”
yoonchae tilted her head, “doesn’t your uncle own a car shop.”
“yup!” yunjin smirked. ryul shook his head, “woman are evil, i love you girls.”
“i love how you’re part of the girls, ryul.” you said, patting his head like a dog. woojin stared at all of yall, feeling like an outsider.
“can i be part of the girls?” he asked quietly.
you patted his head as well, “of course you can, just don’t be a weirdo.” woojin quickly nodded, “will do!”
“hey.. your boy toy is waiting outside.” ryul nudged you, making you turn your head to the door. sure enough, ohyul is waiting outside your classroom like a demon waiting for their next prey.
“welp, be right back.”
“good luck!” yunjin and yoonchae both said as ryul threw you a thumbs up. you could hear woojin ask the girls, ‘who’s the depressed looking guy?’
you approached ohyul with a straight face, “so, now you’re ignoring me? how the tables have turned.” you said sarcastically.
“i don’t like him.” ohyul said, completely ignoring what you previously said. you turn to look at what he was staring at, woojin.
god, what’s with him?
“he’s a junior and has the hots for yunjin, stop doing that with every guy that comes around me.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.
“i don’t like boys staring at you.”
“what a shame that you can’t control what they stare at. now why have you been avoiding me?”
ohyul sighed, tightening his grip on his backpack before grabbing your hand and leading you away from your classroom. “how do you feel about skipping?”
“class starts in like 20 minutes.”
“i’m taking that as a yes.” ohyul said with a cheeky smile, his mood doing a complete 360. you follow him quietly to the rooftop, staring at his back as he walked up the stairs.
the cool air hit your warm skin like a slap. you shivered a little bit, catching ohyul’s eye. he dropped his bag by a bench, quickly shrugging off his jacket before wrapping it around you. you give him a soft smile, “thank you.”
his lips stretched into a little smirk, leaning down to leave a quick peck on your lips. you gulped as he sat down on the bench.
‘we’re still doing that?’ you thought as you took the spot next to him.
yall sat quietly for a little bit, the wind making your hair blow to the right side of your face. ohyul tucked your hair behind your ears as he turned towards you.
he watched you for a bit, his face blank but you would tell by the way his eyes flickered that he was thinking a little too deeply.
“i decided you were mine the first week you transferred here.” he said suddenly.
you had to pretend your heart didn’t speed up, you had to pretend that you didn’t feel your face and neck heat up. you kept a blank face, hardly showing emotion.
even though you were feeling so much from the inside.
“really?” you mumbled, making him nod.
“but,” he licked his lips nervously. “i don’t want to force you to like me. although.. i have thought of it, you know?”
“thought of what?” you couldn’t help but ask.
“forcing you to like me. maybe.. kidnapping you or something. i beat myself up for even thinking of that, i’m sorry.” he said, bowing his head in shame.
you stay quiet, not denying the fact the dread filled your body for a second. “and why didn’t you?”
ohyul shrugged, looking down at his fidgeting hands. “you have a happy life. good parents, great friends, social butterfly, adorable pet, so many people love you despise the fact that you’re not even from here. i didn’t want to do that to you. i couldn’t do that to you.”
you nod, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. “well, i appreciate that.”
“i don’t want to force you, i want you.. to choose me on your own. i want you to want me, willingly.” he said, a tremble evident in his voice.
before you could say anything, he speaks up once more. “i have something else to confess. well, two things.”
“what’s wrong?”
“i’ve been.. uh, watching over you.”
you tilted your head, a laugh leaving your lips. “like a saint?”
he shook his head, pressing his lips together. “like.. a stalker.”
“oh,” he nodded, pressing his lips together. “like a stalker..” you repeated. “how exciting.”
“i’ve been watching your house through the camera on your street.” you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “isn’t that illegal?”
“don’t worry about that, what matters is that i liked watching over you. not in a bad way though. i mean, there wasn’t much i could see through your window, from a camera coming from your street.”
you hummed, nodding with pursed lips. “right..”
“when your light turned on, i got excited knowing the love of my life was awake.”
“love of your what—”
“and when your light turned off,” he said, completely ignoring you. “i always wondered what you dreamt of that night. what do you dream of?”
you shrug, “a demon with my dogs head chasing me. you?”
“you.” ohyul answered.
“of course.” you smirked.
he chuckled, grabbing his bag to pull out a box, a velvet box.
“this is gonna look.. weird.” he said, handing you the box.
“what’s this?” you question, opening the box. he doesn’t answer, deciding on keeping quiet as he watched you open it.
you stared blankly, your eyebrows frowning at the sight.
a light pink hair clip you lost freshman year. “i liked the red one better.” he whispered.
a pen you thought you lost sophomore year. a black one you considered your “lucky” pen. the ink was refilled.
a note from 8th grade, that you wrote about ohyul. you forgot you even wrote it. “he looks at me a lot, but i never look back. i don’t know if he’s staring in admiration or judgement.” it said.
“i was staring in admiration.” he said softly. you look at him, a look of surprise on your face. “you’ve kept all this?” you question, looking back into the box.
is that piece of gum?!
“what’s this?” you asked, picking up something you couldn’t recognize. a [gold/silver] bracelet with a charm that said, ‘my heart’.
“you’ve always liked [gold/silver] jewelry.” he said like it was no big deal, even though it looked really expensive.
“what does this mean?” you mumble, turning to look at him. he swallowed nervously, rubbing his sweaty, shaky hands on his uniform pants.
“i want you. more than anything in the world. i don’t care what anyone says, i just care about what you think. you think it’s obsession, but i can promise you that you’re the definition of love to me. y/n, may you be my girlfriend?” ohyul said, a tremble in his voice as he tried very hard to continue having eye contact with you.
you stare at him, a bit surprised. “wow, how many times did you practice that in the mirror?”
“a thousand times, kid you not.”
you burst out laughing, covering your mouth as you tilted your head back. ohyul stared with a soft gaze, his eyes softening at the sound of your laughter.
after calming down and taking a breath, you nod. “yes ohyul, i will be your girlfriend.”
ohyul jumped up, not expecting your answer. “wait, really?!” you nod, standing up.
“yes, really—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence due to ohyul quickly colliding his lips with yours, a soft moan leaving the back of your throat at the feeling of his lips on yours.
ohyul tightened his grip on your waist as he kissed you harder before pulling away, “i will literally never leave your side.”
“oh, i’m sure you won’t.”
@ azywhwa like & reblog if you liked it !!
my mind is blank rn so last update on ‘dark gaze’!!! </3
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