Tucking back the other's hair + “I saw you looking at my lips” (Your choice of character)
You roll your eyes at yet another lame line from Johnny, tucking your hair behind your ear. As arrogant and self-absorbed as he is, you can't help the attraction to him, wondering if it's his warmth- literally- or the fact that his eyes are sparking, or the way his lips move as they speak-
"I caught you." He says suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts.
"Saw what?" You ask almost defensively, trying to fight the blush at being caught daydreaming about the man across the table from you. You hadn't expected a nice restaurant, but you certainly wouldn't complain.
He reaches out, tucking a loose strand back from your face. "I saw you looking at my lips." He licks them, drawing your attention again, and he chuckles. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"
You blush slightly, a bit off guard. "Wanted what?"
He smirks a bit, though it isn't the usual cockiness or confidence you're used to. "I've wanted to know you the moment I saw you. Once you became friends with Sue. When you laughed at my lame jokes." He moves, thumb stroking your bottom lip. "Let's finish up so I can show you how much I crave you."
SYNOPSIS. They say that three is the magic number, and with you having two childhood friends by your side every summer, you consider this to be true. Summers were always for no one else but you, Johnny, and Jaehyun. You want that to stay the same but of course, nothing ever does. Not when feelings come into play. You’re in love with Johnny, Jaehyun’s in love with you, and quite frankly, you don’t really know how to move forward. So much for the summer of your life.
WARNINGS. Based on Jenny Han’s The Summer I Turned Pretty, Johnny and Jaehyun are cousins, profanity, alcohol consumption, food consumption, smoking (vaping and weed), nicknames (for her: Shadow, Munchkin; for Jaehyun: Dopey; for Johnny: Jojo), more warnings to come
DISCLAIMER.This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. Crossposted on AO3 by sehunnypot.
“Mom, drive faster!” you yelled from the passenger seat, wondering why you didn’t volunteer to take the wheel instead. With you at the wheel, you would’ve arrived at your destination hours ago. If this was a normal day, your mother would have scolded you for raising your voice at her but this was not any given day. This was the start of your epic summer in Neiho.
Being in the town of Neiho for two and a half months meant living in a gorgeous beach house that was a block away from the shoreline. A large two-story structure with six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a pool to swim in, and a backyard large enough to run around in–what could be more perfect than that?
The answer to that question was found in the other inhabitants of the mansion. Your twin aunties–not your blood relatives but your mother’s best friends from university–were the co-owners of the house, passed onto them by their parents. When your mom had nowhere to go one college summer, the twins picked her right up and invited her into their summer abode, and a yearly tradition had been formed. Fall, winter, and spring breaks were for other things but summer was always reserved for the beach house on Neiho’s Cherry Lane.
Even though the three friends who were as close as sisters started their own respective families, the tradition carried on with the expansion. And that’s where the two most important inhabitants come to play–Johnny Suh and Jaehyun Jeong. The boys, as you called them, were cousins who were like brothers to each other. And to you, they were your best childhood friends.
Being the same age as you, you were closer to Jaehyun–the pretty boy with the dimples and the deepest, dad laugh you could ever hear. Although apart for the majority of the year, Jaehyun never failed to text you at least once a day, whether it be a meme or just a random message that could be deemed as “too much information.” You shared a lot with him and in turn, he did the same with you. To you, that lunkhead basketball man was an open book.
His older cousin, however, was not. Unlike Jaehyun, Johnny kept some pages closed. There were times when he was inaccessible and neither you nor Jae could read him. If something were bothering him, Johnny would keep it to himself rather than burden you or Jaehyun with his problems. As the oldest, his duty was to shoulder it, shove them aside, and make sure whatever happened didn’t affect you or Jaehyun in any way possible. His pouty lips would press into a thin line, his straight brows would furrow, and his eyes would narrow until you couldn’t see the beautiful honey-brown people would die to swim in. Other times, though, he was like sunshine and his wide smile brightened your days as no one else could.
“Sit your butt down, child, we’re almost there,” your mother laughed, playfully shoving your shoulder so your butt fell back into the cushioned seat. Her hands turned the wheel and the tires landed on Cherry Lane. She passed one, two, three houses before pulling into the driveway. Before she could put the car into park, your fingers flew to the seat belt latch, ultimately freeing your body from your chair. Never mind that you were leaving your mom to deal with your bags.
With enthusiasm that was seen nowhere else but here in Neiho, you rushed out of the car and down the nostalgic pathway filled with memories that lingered in your mind. You spotted the garden rocks you painted how many summers before as well as the wind catchers that you created with the boys during an arts class they were so reluctant to take. Holding back a smile at all the familiarity, you shoved the keys already in your hand eagerly into the lock. A twist to the side and your hand on the knob was all it took to open the grand, wooden door. A sigh that came from way deep in your chest let itself out as the cooling air conditioner and the smell of the sea salt vanilla candles blew your way.
With one hand against the clean, white walls, you used the other to slip your shoes off. “Anyone home?”
Home. That was what the beach house on Cherry Lane was. It was home.
Loud, resounding pounds from the staircase alerted you that someone was there and you knew exactly who that person was before they made it down the steps and rounded the corner. Always heavy-handed in the way he handled his body, Jaehyun Jeong stomped his way to you, his gait echoing through the quiet hallways. His smile was wide as soon as you landed in his line of vision. The next thing you knew, his body was hurling your way and you had no time to escape what came next.
“Munch! You’re here!” he yelled into your ear right before lifting and twirling you around. Jaehyun’s voice sounded deeper than the last time you saw him in person. Your surprised squeal drowned out his low-toned laughter and your feet kicked against the hard core he worked on in the last year.
“Put her down, Jae, before you break something,” his mom, Jieun, called from the steps, a fond smile taking over her face. Her features matched the ones on Jaehyun’s goofy face sans the reddened ears and cheeks.
Her sister and Johnny’s mom, Hyesoo, peeked out of the kitchen to add to the scolding. “Jae, if you break something, you’re gonna have to replace it with your own money, honey, so be careful!”
“Listen to them!” you whined as his hands continued to dig at your side. “You’re hurting me!”
He adjusted his grip. “Yo, how’s the weather up there, Munchkin? Better than down here, I hope,” Jaehyun teased with a cheeky smile.
“Shut up, Dopey!” You kicked him in the abdomen harder than the last and his stronghold loosened just enough for you to wiggle away.
As you caught your breath from laughing too hard, you took in your best friend’s appearance. Jaehyun’s wetsuit was half on–the top half folded right at the waist–while his buffer chest was slightly covered by the heathered tank top he probably threw on in a rush. Honey brown hair unstyled and strands thrown every which way, he still looked like the same boy you remembered. Just a tad bit taller and bigger than before. And to top it all off, his dopey smile had you mirroring one too.
You bet that the girls in his major department went crazy over him. You’ve heard some of his stories through your weekly FaceTime calls–from his short-termed girlfriends and situationships and friends with benefits–but none of those ever lasted. Curiosity bit at you, wondering why they never did, but you respected Jaehyun enough not to pry. If he wanted to, he would tell you.
“Hey there,” Jaehyun chuckled again, his large hand coming up to your chin to squish your cheeks in between his fingers.
You stuck your tongue out and blew a raspberry at him, spit landing on the back of his hand. Jaehyun gave you a look of disgust, wiping the wet spots against your shirt. You’d think at twenty-one, the pair of you would outgrow childish habits but that wasn’t necessarily the case.
“Just say you’re happy to see me, damn.”
“Never going to willingly admit that,” you retaliated with a shit-eating grin.
Jaehyun’s hands zoomed back to your face to pull at your cheeks. His tough grip tugged them so hard that it stung a lot more than it should have. Your consecutive slaps against his chest finally got him to stop and while you rubbed your cheeks better, he stifled his laughter behind his palm.
“You might not be happy to see me but I am always happy to see you, Munch,” Jaehyun pressed a wet kiss on your throbbing cheek in return. You were too busy tending to your pain to realize the redness that took over the tips of his ears. His mother and aunt were not. Giggling at each other, they enjoyed the boy’s embarrassed state, loving the fact that you were the only one to get him that pink.
“You’re something else, Jae,” you shook your head at him before rushing over to your aunties to hug them. You missed them both.
“Baby, don’t just stand there,” Aunt Jieun scolded her son, coming over to slap him against his bicep, “go use those muscles that you keep bragging about and help your auntie carry their stuff into the house.” The boy, dorky as ever, saluted his mother and ran out the door in his broken-in Rainbow sandals.
“Where’s Johnny?” you questioned. A glance around the house and you couldn’t see him anywhere. It was unlike him to not greet you as soon as you entered the property. Your heart dropped a little at his lack of presence.
“Oh honey, your one-track mind never changes, does it?” Aunt Hyesoo grinned at you with a knowing twinkle in her eye. You pouted at her and she simply poked you in between your curled-up brows. “John’s out surfing. We told him to wait until after you arrived but he promised he would be back before your pretty little face showed up. Knowing him, that boy probably lost track of time.”
The front door swung open and slammed against the wall only to reveal a sheepish Jaehyun. Once again, the boy underestimated his strength. If one were to look at the wall behind the door, they’d spot a dent in the wall from all the rough handling but that’s a thing everyone in the house let go of. Holding the door open, Jaehyun allowed your mom to roll her luggage in first before hauling your load in. As the three mothers reunited, Jae nudged his sharp elbow to your side. “I was about to go join Johnny for a bit, wanna come wi–”
“Yes, let’s go, let’s goooooo!” Not even letting your best friend finish his sentence, you snatched the keys to his mother’s Rav4 and headed out the door. “We’re heading out!” You called behind you before barreling out the door with your tote bag in hand.
Jaehyun trailed right behind you with his deep laughter ringing through your ears. When you didn’t toss him the keys and remained at your spot on the driver’s side, he hesitated to get in the unlocked vehicle. His lack of movement made you roll your eyes. You had gotten your license last fall at the age of twenty so driving was no problem for you. At least, it wasn’t anymore. If you went back to the previous summer with you at the wheel, Johnny at your side, and Jaehyun behind you, you would probably say otherwise. But that was then. You were twenty-one now and had almost a year of driving experience under your belt.
“Get in the car, my driving’s better now, I promise.” The engine started at the twist of your hand and Jaehyun remained outside with a hardened look on his face.
“Sure it is, Munch,” he replied with a brow raised.
“It really is, how else would I be able to get my license?” A few bats of your lashes and a pretty pout were all it took for Jaehyun to cave in and buckle himself in the car. He could never say no to you. Johnny was a little harder to break–he was a tough cookie to crack–but in the end, little old you were always his weakness.
A defeated sigh escaped Jaehyun’s pink lips. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”
Jaehyun’s little profession of love made you warm inside, just like your never ending friendship. “The luckiest girl in the world.”
“And the prettiest,” Jaehyun joked, swiping at your cheek.
“Ew, is that how you flirt with all the girls back home?”
“Why? Is it working?” From the corner of your eye, you could see his brows dance. “Are you finally falling for me? It’s about damn time.”
“Absolutely not. Disgusting.”
“Damn, and to think, I could have finally had a chance with the prettiest girl in Neiho.”
“Oh shut up.”
The beach was a two-minute drive away. If it weren’t for Jaehyun’s surfboard mounted on top of the car, you would have been fine with the seven-minute walk or the short bike ride to your perfect little paradise. The midday crowd had made its way into the beach’s car lot, leaving a tiny compact space for you to wiggle into. Your first few tries weren’t successful, even with Jaehyun’s guidance, leaving him to laugh at your attempts before you switched places. Johnny would have never teased you like that.
Jaehyun parked the car slowly yet successfully as you waited outside with crossed arms. He shot you a smug look, complete with his sunglasses sitting on top of his nose bridge and a smirk that lifted one plump cheek.
“Don’t say anything,” you pointed a finger at him. “I have trouble in compact spaces.”
“Wasn’t gonna,” Jaehyun cheekily answered as he started to take his baby blue board down the rack.
Huffing, you turned your body away from your best friend and faced the shoreline. One breath was all it took to inhale the calming scents of the ocean. The sun beamed down on you; while others hated the direct light, you didn’t mind it. Accompanied by the soft breeze making its way through your loose hair, it was a perfect beach day. Your past self was right to wear your two-piece under your clothes instead of your undergarments.
Leaving Jaehyun behind, you stripped your loose top off, slipped off your Birkenstocks, and sunk your toes in the sand. The gritty, warm feeling surrounding your skin was something you missed dearly. Others hated the texture of sand–how it was coarse and hot, and how it got absolutely everywhere for no apparent reason–but it excited you. Feet running on autopilot, they led you straight to where the ocean met the shore. Dry sand turned wet, causing you to sink, sink, sink deep into the ground and you loved it all. When the cool rush of water hit your skin, you loved it even more. You closed your eyes and sighed, taking in the sounds of the waves hitting the rocks.
You opened them just in time to see a tall, built surfer riding a clean wave with no breaks. He made the sport look effortless when you know that in fact, it was not. At all. When the figure reached the shore not too far from you, the man planted his surfboard right in the sand. His height was not too far off from the item itself, which was a feature many onlookers admired.
After reaching down to catch some water in between his fingers, he ran that same hand through his thick dark brown hair, pushing his wet bangs out of his way. Your mouth began to split into two at the sight of him. Even without seeing his entire face, you knew that sharp jawline and stature anywhere. You saw it every summer, towering over you in a protective stance. The hands running through his hair used to hold yours whenever you had your scary movie marathons and the sculpted arms attached to them used to press you tightly against his chest whenever you needed comfort.
There were so many times your thoughts drifted from the topic at hand to that face and build. Dreams. Daydreams. Little scenarios in your head that fed the monster called delusion.
With tunnel vision for that man alone, your feet took you straight to him and your voice called out his name. “Johnny Suh!”
Johnny’s hands immediately reached behind him as you catapulted yourself onto the broadest back you had ever seen in your life. Your arms circled his neck and your bare legs coiled around his waist as he held you in place with no complaints. Your dry body pressed against the cold, damp wetsuit but you didn’t care. You were with Johnny now.
To you, the older of the boys wore many hats. He was your long-time friend. Your protector. Your crush. Your mom, as teasing as she gets, also referred to him as your first love. Your aunties rallied behind her with that and you always found it embarrassing. But loyal as they were, your secret never slipped past their lips. It was one for the girls, they would always say. You weren’t sure if Jaehyun caught on at some point–if he did, he never uttered a word.
Johnny turns his neck to glance at you. His eyes took notice of the sparkle in your eye and the bright light of your smile and it brought that charming grin out to play. “Aren’t your clothes going to get wet?” he chafed, tugging on the thin fabric of your loose linen shorts.
“Don’t care,” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. His smile widened as you did so, the whiskers by his nose appearing out of nowhere. “Saying hi to you is more important than my clothes, Jojo.”
“Well then, hi.” The way Johnny said that two-letter word had your heart racing. It was soft and sweet and endearing. It was everything Johnny was. And it was beautiful.
“Hi.”
He tapped two fingers on your thigh. “You ready to get down yet?”
“Nope.”
Johnny chuckled again and with your chest pressed tightly against his back, you felt the vibrations it caused. “Looks like my little Shadow finally came back to me.”
Shadow–that was what he called you.
It all started when your moms noticed that you were so infatuated with the older boy that you stuck so close to him, following his every movement. When he would stand, so would you. And in turn, Jaehyun did too. When Johnny would want ice cream, you would copy him and state that you craved some too. And when he joined a volleyball camp at the country club, you tried to join too, only to be turned down because you were a girl. It upset you to no end at the young age of nine, that Jaehyun could follow the twelve-year-old Johnny but you couldn’t. To get rid of your sorrow, Johnny–although tired–played with you at home and taught you every little skill he learned that day. Your hobby only developed from there.
“Looks like it,” you giggled.
No matter how far you were or how much time had passed, you would forever remain as Johnny’s shadow. Just like Peter Pan’s shadow always found its way back to the leader of the Lost Boys, you would always find your way back to Johnny.
Your little moment was interrupted by the one and only Jaehyun, who has his surfboard lifted above his head. So into being within proximity to Johnny, you failed to notice the tiny drop of Jaehyun’s happy demeanor. “Dude, you done for the day or?” Jaehyun asked his older cousin, gesturing to the waves.
Johnny turned to him with you still hanging like a koala on his back, happy that you are reunited with your two boys. “Nah, I was thinking about catching a few more before heading back. Tide’s pretty good today.”
“Sweet,” Jaehyun grinned, his tiny little fangs peeking out as his mouth widened. He pointed his chin to the clear, blue water. “Let’s go?”
Johnny tapped your thigh again and released your legs from his hold. “You okay with that, Shadow?”
You nodded, patting your purse. “I got my audiobook, I’ll be fine.”
“You didn’t want to surf today?”
You tried your best to fight the warm flush taking over your body. “No, I was…too excited to see you, I guess. Didn’t want to change or grab my board.”
Johnny shot you a soft and tender smile. “You sure it wasn’t the beach calling your name? You always couldn’t wait to get down here.”
“I’m sure,” you replied, looking up at him.
“Next time then,” Johnny reassured you. “Missed having you out there with me.”
Your heart stopped for a moment. How was he so good at that? Johnny was too good at making you feel like mush and he didn’t even know it. It was no surprise so many of the people you hung out with growing up had a crush on him.
“Alright then, what are we waiting for?” Jaehyun shouted, raising his board high and running straight for the water. “First surf of the summer, let’s fucking goooooooo!” His loud voice faded out as he got deeper and deeper into the water.
Johnny’s large hand quickly ruffled your hair and you swatted his grip away, grumbling as you did so. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either.” His overprotectiveness came into play. The warning was unnecessary, seeing how all the summer kids knew each other. It was like a big reunion every season, with parties and bonfires all around. Running into someone at the beach was far from surprising, in fact, it was expected.
You waved him away, already busying yourself by setting up your spot a bit further from where the sand met the sea. Your AirPods were out and your phone’s camera app opened up, ready to take pictures of the beautiful scenery and your boys. “Stop worrying, I’ll be right here. Go.”
Johnny left, but not before giving you a little shove to the side of your head. You snapped multiple pictures of his back as he ran to his board with Jaehyun already riding a wave in the background. The sun was beginning to set, making the skyline the perfect backdrop for your pictures. Waiting for the next wave to hit, they sat on their boards. At one point, they shifted to wave at you, and being the person you were, you took more candids of them and sent it to the group chat with your parents.
You slipped on your AirPods and continued onto a new chapter of the audiobook you started on your road trip here. The waves were loud enough to hear through your headset and the orange sun didn't blind you as much with Jaehyun’s sunglasses resting on your nose. This was the perfect way to spend your first day back at Neiho.
With the amazing weather, the two best boys in the entire world, and the prettiest beach you have ever laid eyes on, this was going to be the best summer ever. It had to be. It was the summer before your last year of university. After graduation, your whole life could and would change. And you, as headstrong as you were, wanted this to be the perfect summer.
The summer of all summers.
The summer you would remember forever.
LIFEGUARD'S NOTICE BOARD. Hi y'all. This fic has been on the backburner for a while and I've slowly started to pick it back up again. This is only the first scene in the grande scheme of things that idk will ever be completed BUT it was too good to keep in the drafts! Tell me what you think: are you Team Johnny or Team Jaehyun?
TAGLIST. (tagging anyone who is on my gen taglist and people i talked to about this fic!) @johtenrecs @justalildumpling @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky @smileysuh @smileyerim @taelme @moonctzeny @lebrookestore @baekhyuns-lipchain @donutswithjaminthemiddle @ahcaratzen @espresseo-cafe @turtash @ravenjoongie @omlhyuck @cryingforjae
PAIRING: idolverse!jaehyun x johnny (ft other neos)
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
SUMMARY: it's been years since jaehyun and johnny ended things and he's grown distant from the members and their past life together. an ig post brings everything flooding back in, love and all the pain that came with it.
THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday ily <3 thank you to everyone who pre-read snippets of this as well
WARNINGS: mlm relationships, boys kissing and stuff, lots of angst, profanity, some sexual references but no explicit smut
PLAYLIST: miss you more by katy perry
We were a match, but not a fit
We were a dream, unrealistic
--
“Hyung, can you come monitor for me?” a fuzzy voice broke past the music playing in Jaehyun’s headphones as he scrolled on his phone, sunk down in a plush leather chair.
Pulling aside the headphones, Jaehyun lifted his gaze up to see Jisung with a hand lightly on his shoulder. His face was calm, brows knitted together lightly as he looked down through long bangs.
Jaehyun let out a small and tired sigh, smiling lightly up at the younger man, following him into the dance studio, leaning against the glass as he watched the group follow intricate choreography to a slower track filled with a booming base.
He had finally given into his manager’s coaxing to support the preparation for the comeback of the new subunit of some of the youngest members of the company and it had pushed forward old memories he had wished to forget. He knew they were just doing it to get him out of his apartment and give him some sort of schedule to what his routine had become.
In the years since he had been active, much had changed at the company but he saw himself in the bright, young faces of the young men in front of him. He smiled as he watched one of the tallest of the group toss his arms around a slightly shorter blonde, squeezing his chest with strong arms from behind. Sleeves of their thin workout shirts rose up on their shoulders, matching ink adorning their smooth skin. Jaehyun felt his own hand push over a small outline of a cat tattooed on the side of his wrist, warmth blooming as the tips of his fingers made contact.
Memories of dancing in the same studio flooded his brain, blurring his vision with tears building in his eyes. He could practically feel the hands on shoulder blades, correcting posture, repetition of small foot movements, and almost hear the boisterous laughter echoing off the glassy, mirrored walls.
His eyes flicked downwards to his phone held tightly in his palm, seeing hotel bookings and flights coming through with little notes interspersed from Jungwoo. He reacted to the messages with a simple thumbs up, turning his attention back to the fluid movements of the dancers, whispering and gesturing to the choreographer standing next to him. He knew she could tell his mood had shifted in the last month, everyone at the company was walking on eggshells around him and it was tearing him apart every time he walked in the building. No one knew what to say or how to act around him after an Instagram post on a sunny Saturday had changed everything.
--
He hadn’t meant to see the picture and instantly regretted offering to help fix some settings on his sister’s phone while sitting on the small patio of his family home.
“Why are you following him?” Jaehyun had spat, heat rising in his cheeks as he threw the phone, suddenly on fire in his hands, onto her lounge chair.
“So I can make sure you don’t have this reaction! How am I supposed to keep you from seeing things if I don’t know that they are out there?” she yelled back, voice raising, causing his mother to peek her head out the screen door.
“What’s going on?” she called out absently, bouncing his sister’s baby on her hip.
“You two constantly baby me! I’m almost 35 years old!” Jaehyun called back, crossing his arms with a huff across his broad chest. The sun suddenly felt too hot, his face burning with anger and embarrassment.
“You sure don’t act it…” his sister replied in a murmured tone, sliding her sunglasses back on the bridge of her nose and picking up the device that had caused the argument.
“Sorry…” he replied in the same tone, smoothing his palms over his thighs and picking up his own phone.
Since he had already seen the engagement announcement, he nervously opened Instagram, moving his finger carefully to Johnny’s profile, taking the pad of his thumb off the screen as soon as he found the post so as to not accidentally interact.
The first photo was the small and manicured hand of Johnny’s now-fiancee, a glimmering diamond ring set in gold on her ring finger. The sun was setting in the background and a glass of champagne was just out of frame next to her slender forearm.
Jaehyun almost couldn’t bring himself to swipe to the second photo in the post. He definitely wasn’t ready to read the caption or comments.
“You okay, J?” his sister asked, tipping her sunglasses again in an attempt to make eye contact with her suddenly quiet brother.
“Uh yeah, yeah…” he replied distantly, locking his phone and slipping it into the pocket of his shorts. Squinting into the sun, he let it blind him momentarily, glimmering orbs floating in his vision for a few moments as he tipped his head back onto the back of the chair and let his eyes close shut, pushing the welling tears out and down his still warm face.
Later that night, alone in his apartment, he pulled the post up on his computer, cracking his fingers before letting his hands rest at his temple, drilling his elbows painfully down onto the sturdy wood desk.
Jaehyun studied the ring again, admiring the low light glimmering in the face of the stone, the antiqued finish of the band, and her perfectly shaped and glossy nails. He trained his eye on every detail in the first photo before a shaking hand clicked to the second.
A warm smile he hadn’t seen in almost six years occupied most of the screen, with the owner of the hand from the previous photo digging her face into his shoulder, long and wavy dark locks splayed out over his linen shirt-clad chest.
Jaehyun’s throat tightened as he dug his fingers into the skin at his hairline, massaging lightly. Blinking back the pooling tears, he let himself lift his gaze to meet Johnny’s eyes. His face was bright with a large and devious smile adorning it, as it was known to, his eyes narrowed - a sign of pure joy.
His hair was longer than Jeahyun expected it to be, with a small dark tuft caught up by a passing breeze. Small silver hoops hung from his ears and his hair looked soft and slightly damp, accompanied by a light flush in his cheeks that could have been from excitement or the wine or too much time in the Brazilian sun.
Instinctively, Jaehyun brought his hand to his own lips as his eyes dragged down the screen to examine the photo further. Johnny’s lips were pulled tight across his face, plush pink exposing a flashing white smile, too happy for words. His tattooed arm was thrown around her shoulder and his hand was lingering on her upper arm. Jaehyun knew what it felt like to have Johnny’s thumb rub absent circles on the flesh there and shuddered under the feeling of the phantom touch on his own arm.
Slamming his hand back down to his desk, Jaehyun finally let himself read the caption, which caused his breath to catch hard in the back of his throat, triggering a deep and husky cough.
“You’ll always be my favorite… ;)”
Locking his computer screen quickly, Jaehyun stood up before he could let himself read the congratulatory comments from hundreds of thousands of other celebrities, former fans, brands, and more. Nausea rose in his throat and he pressed down on the bridge of his nose to calm the light headed sensation.
Yanking his phone from the desk surface, he clicked quickly and waited for the phone to ring on the other end.
“Hey, you okay?” came Doyoung’s calming tone from the other end of the line. It had been hours since the photos had been posted, but Doyoung knew the only reason Jaehyun would be calling him.
“No…” Jaehyun trailed off, voice deep and tone hushed, moving quickly to his kitchen and pouring a generous serving of dark liquid from a crystal decanter.
“Of course he’s not fucking okay, Jesus! Look at that caption!” called a familiar voice in the background.
“Oh...is Mark there?” Jaehyun asked, taking a long swig of whiskey from the short glass and nearly choking on the liquid.
“Yeah, him and Hyuck stopped by for a bit,” Doyoung muttered quietly, feeling a tinge of remorse in his chest having to admit that there was a growing gathering of former members at his home.
“Oh yeah, sorry, I’ll let you go…”Jaehyun trailed off, heat rising in his face again.
“No, no, it’s okay, actually, do you want to come over? I know you’ve been spending a lot of time at home, which is why I didn’t ask, and I just…” Doyoung trailed off, rambling words dying in his throat.
Ready to refuse his pity invite, Jaehyun pulled his phone away from his ear and switched to speakerphone as he felt it buzz against his cheek.
Jungwoo had texted him a long message, pouring out flowery sympathies and imploring him to come over and be amongst old friends.
Jaehyun felt like he was being consoled after a distant family member’s passing, but reluctantly admitted defeat and told Doyoung he would be on his way shortly. The last thing he wanted to do was to be drunkenly begged to harmonize lines from Perfume or watch Mark attempt a headspin that would inevitably result in him cracking his head on the side of a table.
He checked himself in the mirror before grabbing his keys by his front door. His eyes looked tired, dark hair falling long across his brow, and his gray sweatpants were wrinkled. He pushed a navy baseball cap over his hair and grabbed his leather jacket to slide over a tight white undershirt.
Setting a comfortable pace on the highway, with too many cars zipping past him for the time of night, he settled on a recommended playlist on his Spotify, letting the songs slip out of his speakers and around his brain.
Johnny was happy. That should have made him happy. Instead, his mind was clouded with jealousy, regret, and sadness. Jealousy of the happy young woman cuddled up under his lightly tanned arm, regret for the drunken, angry words he had yelled in Johnny’s face at Jaemin and Jeno’s wedding, and sadness for the length of time they had gone without speaking.
After looking at the photos a few more times at a stop light, he realized he recognized her. A friend of a friend of Mark’s family, who had been brought by the green room years ago to meet the group casually during an award’s show. She had been warm and talkative, yet remaining respectful and keeping distance from the members. Johnny had made her feel more at ease by speaking with her in English and Jaehyun remembers the years of teasing that went on whenever he would leave a comment on her Instagram from his private account or mention that he and Mark had run into her on a trip to New York. He knew they stayed in touch over the years and with Johnny spending more than half the year in Chicago and LA now, it made sense that they would have reconnected.
Suddenly, the song lyrics on the current track registered with his brain and he had to tighten his hands on the steering wheel to not drift into the next lane.
Saw your picture on accident
Your face has changed
The lines are sinking in
I pressed play, I shouldn’t have
Congratulations
But do you ever wonder what we could have been?
He reached a shaking hand over to illuminate the screen of his phone, indicating that “Miss You More” by Katy Perry was hitting a little too close to home at that moment.
In an attempt to skip the song, he simply skipped ahead a few beats, the haunting lyrics doing little to console him.
I miss you more than I loved you
I do
Jaehyun shut off the sound system and drove the rest of the way in silence, soon finding himself staring down at clean, white sneakers at the door of Doyoung’s apartment.
Awkwardly reaching out his knuckles to the door, he knocked, knowing entering without announcement would surely result in wide eyed stares, based on the amount of voices he heard in the background on the phone.
Jungwoo pulled open the door with a worried look in his sweet eyes. His hair was fluffy and dyed a honey brown, eyes looking tired but still offering warmth. He had been working long hours on set of the music show he was producing and he knew that the exhaustion spread across his features matched the one that met Jaehyun every time he looked in the mirror.
“Hey honey,” he croaked out, voice breaking as he spoke, pulling Jaehyun into a loose hug.
Jaehyun stiffened but quickly melted into his old friend’s embrace, wrapping strong arms around his back and dropping his head to his shoulder. He let himself breathe deeply into Jungwoo’s soft and loose sweater, before lifting his eyes to see Mark on the couch, gaze trained on his phone, held loosely in his hands between bent knees.
Hyuck was next to Mark, arm loosely tossed around him, looking up and offering a weak smile at Jaehyun as he stepped into the space. He nudged Mark’s knee with his, nodding over to Jaehyun, encouraging him to greet him. Mark lifted his head to meet Jaehyun’s stare, tipping his chin up lightly at him before digging his shoulder up under Hyuck’s arm and nuzzling into his side, turning his attention back to his phone.
Jaehyun attempted a small smile at one of his oldest friends, before gulping, nerves creeping in. Maybe coming here was a mistake.
“Well well well, the gang’s all here..” came a new voice, emerging from the kitchen with two beers in his hands. Taeyong gripped the two, cold glass bottle necks in one grip, reaching his other hand out to nudge Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly.
“You okay?” he asked, voice a little quieter. A red beanie was pulled tightly over short hair, a baggy black hoodie covering his frame and hood pulled up over the hat.
“Yeah, Tae, thanks,” Jaehyun mumbled in reply, brushing past their former leader lightly as he caught a glimpse of Doyoung through the doorway to the kitchen.
Taeyong nodded in response, handing one of the beers to Mark, resisting the urge to clink the green glass together in a gesture that would be received as too celebratory for the occasion of the gathering.
Jaehyun shuffled into the kitchen, following as Doyoung slipped out the back door and onto the balcony to light a cigarette.
Without a word, Doyoung pulled Jaehyun into a hug as soon as he stepped into the warm, summer night air. For the first time since he left his apartment, Jaehyun started to feel the tears prick at the corners of his eyes again.
“We miss seeing you,” Doyoung spoke, voice warm as he pulled away from the hug. He scanned Jaehyun’s face, looking to process the image of the shell of the man he once knew and still cared for.
“You know, you don’t need an excuse to call or stop by. And I didn’t mean to exclude you, Taeyong was just around this weekend, for once,” Doyoung continued, exhaling a long breath of smoke.
“I know, Doie, I know…” Jaehyun replied, taking a drag of Doyoung’s cigarette when offered it. The nicotine burned his throat but it also drew his attention away from the rising ache in his chest, helping to block the tears from forming further.
“Have you thought about contacting…” Doyoung started, sucking in a deep breath before beginning the tricky sentence.
“I’m not calling him,” Jaehyun replied quickly, voice loud as they both made their way back into the kitchen. He knew the rest of the group surely had heard his statement, which caused his chest to tighten.
“Great, so the rest of us just have to deal with this shit now,” came Mark’s quiet voice, head dipped down on his phone again.
“Mark, chill,” Taeyong scolded, placing his now empty bottle on the coffee table and shooting daggers with dark eyes.
“Deal with what? The fact that I fell in love with him like an idiot and when our relationship didn’t work out, I couldn’t manage to make things normal again?” Jaehyun spat out, closing the gap to stand behind Taeyong’s spot on the couch, attempting to force Mark to look at him.
“Well, that’s definitely part of it!” Mark retorted, a light chuckle falling from his lips at the end of his statement. He placed his phone down on the table, running a hand through his short hair.
Hyuck darted worried eyes first to Doyoung, now standing near Jaehyun, then to Jungwoo, knees pulled up on the corner of the couch with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, and then to Taeyong. Taeyong shook his head lightly, silently encouraging the conversation that had been bubbling for months.
“So it’s all my fault that everything fell apart? I fucking knew you blamed me for everything. He’s always been perfect in your eyes!” Jaehyun spat back, right hand tightening into a fist at his side. Sweat was forming at the back of his neck and he was feeling unbearably hot underneath the thick fabric of his jacket.
“Guys, stop…” Hyuck tried, voice breaking as he placed a hand gently on Mark’s knee, “We don’t need to fight. Nothing is anyone’s fault.”
“No, no, Hyuck, it is my fault. It’s my fault I couldn’t handle the pressure of fame. It’s my fault I wasn’t honest about my feelings for Johnny sooner. It’s my fault I overanalyzed and publicized our relationship. It’s my fault I couldn’t listen to him when he started being unhappy. And it’s my fault he barely talks to any of you anymore.” Jaehyun rambled on, each word more biting than the last, all the while, his eyes trained on Mark.
Mark suddenly stood, pulling his leg out from under Hyuck’s tightening grip, Taeyong standing suddenly too, as if to get in between him and his potential target.
Mark brushed past the tense posture of Taeyong, pushing into Jaehyun’s personal space, voice dropping low to almost a whisper. His face was close and Jaehyun could smell the two or three beers he had shared with Taeyong prior to his arrival. He was worried at what Mark would say next, knowing he had probably rehearsed this outburst countless times and repeated the complaints to Hyuck on long car rides or while dozing on their couch.
“None of that matters. The only thing I blame you for is not fighting harder for him. He loved you. We all know that.”
Jaehyun’s mouth hung open upon hearing the words, unable to reply, unsure of what to say.
“I don’t hate you, I just want my best friend back. Stop fucking pushing us away,” Mark let out, now close enough that Jaehyun could see the tears threatening to spill from his dark brown eyes.
This time, Jaehyun initiated the hug, pulling close his friend in the most familiar embrace that now felt so foreign. They had all lived together for what felt like an eternity, growing more comfortable in each other’s spaces and routines, but now felt more like strangers after so many years apart. They all used to share everything and now, their fragmented lives barely held shadows of their past.
“Do you still want to fight for him?” Mark breathed out, words ghosting over the shell of Jaehyun’s ear, making his heart stop momentarily in his chest.
All Jaehyun could manage in that moment was a curt nod, silently begging the lyrics of the song from the car to not be his fate.
We were a match, but not a fit
We were a dream, unrealistic
We didn’t lose, we didn’t win
“So are we going to Parent Trap this shit or what?” Jungwoo asked in excitement, voice pitching up an octave as he broke through the tension of the living room.
Jaehyun chuckled, letting the first laugh in days escape his lips, causing the room to erupt in laughter. His eyes crinkled up in the corners as his smile engulfed his face and deepened as he watched Hyuck pull Mark to him and plant a short kiss on his lips. Doyoung slammed a couple bottles of soju on the table next to short glasses and Taeyong reached out to begin pouring them.
At that moment, Jaehyun felt like he was finally home. He knew that even if he never again saw that heartstopping smile on Johnny’s face or heard him moan out his name in ecstasy, that he could find happiness in the arms of his friends in the summer night air. His heart had always been happiest here and he just hoped he wasn’t too late to bring Johnny back home.
title: close to you
pairing: vampire!johnny x black reader
genre: domestic, fluff, vampire!au, fantasy, angst
summary: two years after meeting johnny at a cafe and becoming acquainted with the vampiric nature you’d never before experienced, you’ve crafted a life with him that works for the both of you.
word count: 3.1k
warnings: blood and blood drinking, suggestive content, mentions of depression/self-identity issues, mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species
a/n: ….i know i said a thousand times i wouldn’t write anything else for “picture me” but met gala johnny fucked my head up back in may and this was born. after rewriting it, it’s finally where i want it to be.
i strongly recommend reading picture me first if you haven’t already. there’s basic vampire lore in here, but also lots of context from the original story.
i don’t know if i’ll go back to regularly writing fic, but here’s something for the road if not! 🥹
on tiring nights and busy daytimes,
please make room in your heart for me to rest
Your toes curl into the floor of the bathtub as Johnny’s hand slides up the length of your right arm, the washcloth he holds warm and fragrant against your skin.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes, you always ask that.” You giggle quietly.
Johnny smiles. The bathroom’s dimness and the wavering light from the candles he placed sporadically around the space make his eyes look even deeper than usual. You are not as overwhelmed by their intensity the way you used to be, though. “That’s because I’d never want to do anything to make you feel otherwise.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” you agree in a whisper, watching his hand drift from your shoulder to cross your collarbones and slide down your sternum, leaving the scent of fruits and trails of soap behind. “Did you enjoy the museum today?”
“We’re still preparing for the new exhibit, so I can’t say it was a calm day,” he says. “But I’m looking forward to it. I think you’ll like it.”
“I think so too. You can’t go wrong with a good seascape, after all.” Johnny taps your knee for you to lift your leg up and out of the water. You rest your leg on the edge of the tub like you’re posing for a picture, and you laugh when he lowers his head and kisses your wet shin.
The washcloth travels from your toes up to your thigh, by which point Johnny’s fingers are more involved than the cloth is, dipping further into the water and massaging your inner thigh in the way you know he likes to do when he’s asking for affection without directly asking you. For a moment, you observe the muscles in his forearm as they shift, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal the sinewy flesh.
You raise your eyebrows in an attempt to look surprised, displaying a smile you can’t conceal. “Hey, don’t you want to eat dinner after this? You haven’t had any blood since this afternoon.”
“I guess. But I could just eat something else instead.” Johnny laughs at his own double entendre. You shake your head, sharing in the laughter even with the sudden flush of warmth his seeking touch has inspired in the pit of your stomach.
“Later! I am actually hungry, thank you.”
Johnny finishes cleaning your body with his fair share of errant kisses here and there, which he can never help himself about when it comes to this intimate time of bathing you. You love it all. But, you think your favorite part of it must be when he helps you out of the tub and dries you off—wrapping the big towel around you and kissing your forehead while he pats the water off your skin—then takes you into the bedroom to sit you on the bed and begin moisturizing your body.
His hands are always gentle with you; he is always conscious of the way he touches you, passes by you, even looks at you. You know part of it is because of his increased strength as a vampire, but also because it’s just the way he feels about you.
The first time he’d done this, before it became a regular routine, he’d sat in the tub with you after sex and washed you from top to bottom, his long legs tangled with yours. You didn’t know quite how to take it, as no one else had ever done anything like this for you. But you allowed yourself to relax into it, feeling warm and cared for in a peculiar way you hadn’t before experienced.
You’d embarrassed yourself by starting to cry halfway through him putting lotion on your skin, both of you surprised by the sudden outrush of emotion. But as he always did, he told you it was okay. More than okay. Fine, even. You could cry whenever or however much you wanted, and the only thing he’d do was wipe your tears away.
You don’t feel the same embarrassment from that memory anymore. It brings a small smile to your lips as Johnny’s hand caresses your upper arm, rubbing the dreamy-smelling lotion into your skin.
“What are you thinking about?” Johnny asks, regarding your face closely, his hands never pausing in their work. You stare down into his eyes, which are slightly obscured by the long hair that he’d since grown out. You’d been a bit sad to see the undercut disappear, but you love being able to stroke his hair when you are falling asleep at night.
Presently, you reach out to brush the strands away from his eyes. “I love you. That’s what I’m thinking about.”
His smile mirrors yours. “Trying to flatter me, huh?” He tickles the bottom of your foot and you yelp from the sensation, trying to squirm away from him. “I love you, Y/N.” His voice is choppy with laughter at your response to his actions, but the sincerity in his eyes is abundant.
After ensuring you are soft enough for your liking, Johnny leaves to go warm up the food while you dress. When you finally make your way into the kitchen, feeling light enough to practically float across the floor, the food is placed on the table and ready for you to eat. It’s one of many dinners Johnny has painstakingly learned to cook for you, though he himself never actually needs to eat. He’s a veritable chef now, which you appreciate. It means you rarely have to cook, and you certainly don’t miss eating campus cafeteria food multiple times a day.
“Thank you for the meal,” you say, sitting down across from him at the dinner table. He doesn’t share a meal with you this time like he occasionally does but instead sips from a blood bag, the viscous substance leaving his lips stained ruby. It makes for an amusing and slightly morbid scene.
You don’t stay the night with him everyday, but it is many days. You still stay at your dorm and spend breaks at your parents’ house to maintain their belief that you’re living only on campus. Your parents still do not know about Johnny—and likely never will, if you can help it—and the only friends you’ve told are the handful of supernatural-sympathetic people you’d managed to meet on- and off-campus. It’s not at all easy living two realities at once, entirely hiding Johnny’s existence from your family, but you manage it.
He feels bad about the strain it has on you more often than you’d like, but you never allow him to persuade you into changing your mind about your relationship. Because, after that Halloween night with Johnny and the many other nights you began spending together the same way…you realized that you could not let him go, despite your lingering fears about being discovered. And neither could he do the same.
After you both finish eating, Johnny puts on an album for you to listen to, the sound flowing out of the sizable Bluetooth speakers in the living room. You recognize it as an old swing record from his childhood that you were surprised he was even able to find on streaming. After Supper Jams is what he likes to call these moments, though you’ve always found that a bit corny—and have no problem telling him so.
For a while, you lie across his couch with your heart and mind and stomach full, absentmindedly swinging your leg to the music’s rhythm while Johnny goes over some paperwork from the museum beside you—his fingers tapping your forehead every so often to try to annoy you.
“You’re trying too hard,” you finally tell him, swatting his fingers away the next time he tries to drum them on your head.
“Trying too hard?”
“To mess with me. It’s not gonna work today, you know,” you say, still trying to wrestle Johnny’s fingers away from your face before he pokes an eye out. He takes an obvious amusement in your fruitless attempts to foil him.
“You’d accuse me of that? I’m literally just doing paperwork.”
You roll your eyes and snort. “Then keep your hands to yourself, sir.”
“...Would you really like for me to do that, though?”
“...Johnny.”
Your little back-and-forth is enough to get him to let up, though you’re disappointed when he finishes with the papers and leaves your side a few minutes later. He doesn’t go far, though; he stops at the window to gaze down at the blazing city scene stories below. He stands with his hands tucked in his pockets, no doubt thinking about something with the faraway look on his face.
After the current song ends, it switches to another that you know is one of Johnny’s favorites, and he looks back to you with the corners of his mouth tilting up in the soft way that dwells in your daydreams. He takes a step forward and holds his hand out to you. “Dance with me?”
“You want to dance?” You get up from where you were sitting, though with some effort due to the after-dinner lethargy setting in, to stand in front of him. You accept his proffered hand, cold but welcoming in your own. He brings you into his body, firm against yours and always with its familiar scent. His other hand goes to the small of your back; you exhale quietly.
“It’s more an excuse to hold you,” Johnny murmurs, chuckling lowly. “But we can dance, too.”
“I hope you’re not looking for extravagant kicks and spins, because you know that’s not my forte and I’m a little food-drunk right now,” you admit, your face warming.
“It’s fine. Just follow me.”
You follow the movements of Johnny’s bare feet as he guides you across the floor of his apartment. He catches the look of concentration on your face as you glance down to both of your feet occasionally, and this simple action makes his entire being throb with the intensity of his affection for you. He is tempted to forget the music and the dancing and lose himself in the beating of your heart, letting the perpetual rhythm wind itself into the very atoms of his body. Many nights he has lain his head on your chest and let the sound blend itself into his subconscious.
One song melts into the next, and the night stretches out before you. The city darkens further with the last of the blueness leaving the sky, covering the firmament in pitch black.
You glance at your reflection in the window, and there is no one there but you—your hand held by an imaginary palm, the back of your sweater wrinkled by the touch of an invisible hand. You regard this sight neutrally; it doesn’t disturb you the same way it used to when you’d first met Johnny. You knew it made him sad to see you so uneasy because of it, and your reactions served as a reminder he didn’t need. You didn’t want to do anything to purposely hurt him, but it took you time to grow accustomed to this characteristic of his vampirism.
You’ve grown used to many things in your time with him, and you both did—and still do—your best to make things feel natural. You love Johnny; accepting everything he is was the only option you could choose.
The same could not be said for your family, most of your classmates, or society at large, but at the end of it all, that didn’t matter.
You keep dancing until your feet grow tired of it. You’d never get exhausted of being in Johnny’s embrace, but the human body has its limits; and so the music continues on as your motions slow to a stop.
“I think I’ll get ready for bed now,” you say, rubbing your eyes with one hand and still holding Johnny’s hand with the other. “I’m getting really sleepy.”
Johnny smiles at the look of languid content on your face. He leans in to capture your lips in a kiss, and you readily meet him in the middle. It is another minute before you part from each other.
“I’ll join you after I clean up in here,” he whispers against your lips. You nod to the promise of his arms around you once more, giving him a tired smile before departing to his room.
When you are gone, Johnny stops the music and cuts the speakers off before going to shuffle his paperwork back into his briefcase. He takes his time to fix up a few more things in the room before it looks perfectly clean to his eyes. Once he’s done, Johnny looks to the large painting on the far wall, a grin slowly stretching his lips.
Every time he sees it, he swears his sluggish heart beats faster and his blackened blood speeds through his veins. The portrait of his own likeness.
The gold necklace lying delicately against his collarbones, the strands of midnight black hair curling over his eye, the sharp angles of his jaw, the curves of his lips. Sometimes he stands there as long minutes pass and studies each of his features in the painting, pressing his fingers to his face to feel the shape of every individual one just as clearly as he is seeing them.
It’s no act of narcissism. It’s the rediscovery of oneself.
--
You’d saved up money for months to commission the portrait from a local artist.
The idea of doing it wouldn’t leave you alone. What other way for Johnny to see himself if he could not use mirrors, windows, or even the still waters of a pond? The small picture in his photo album was the only thing in the world he had of his own face, and it shouldn’t have been the only thing. You didn’t want it to be—not if something ever happened to it.
When you’d told Johnny about commissioning the artist, he barely knew how to respond. You’d never seen him cry before then, but his eyes were unmistakably glassy, pooling up with everything he didn’t yet know how to express to you verbally. You’d squeezed his hand in yours and let him lean his head against your arm with eyes closed, watching him contend with the wave of emotion he was experiencing. You’d been somewhat flustered yourself, hoping you hadn’t made the wrong move with this decision but wanting to provide some resolution to him in any way you could. Fortunately, your intentions were accepted beyond measure.
Johnny sat patiently for every session, his body still though his mind was usually clamoring with too many thoughts to count. Completing the painting had taken longer than the typical process, as the artist could use no photos for reference except for the one in Johnny’s photo album, but you’d specifically chosen someone with experience in painting supernatural beings—particularly vampires. That was worth the extra cost.
In Johnny’s mind, he could not find an answer for why he’d never tried to have himself painted before, but maybe it was…fear. Disgust. Apathy. Immense self-loathing. Maybe he’d grown more used to the familiarity of this banal existence than he thought, grown used to never seeing himself. Of never feeling alive…and simply fading into the blur of everyday life, days and months and decades passing by and leaving him behind somewhere in a pocket of time—the last time he’d been human. Not content with his existence, but accepting the fact that it was what it was, unable to be changed.
And then you came along—strangely naive but cognizant of his emotions, luminous from the essence of your lifeblood, and new.
After seeing the painting hanging on his wall for the first time after it’d finally been completed, Johnny had practically crushed you into his arms, tucking his face into the ringlets of your hair for so long that you almost worried he would suffocate.
“Johnny?” you whispered, one of your hands gliding down his back. “Are you okay?”
“My angel,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, his voice low and tight with the threat of more tears. “You’ll never know how you’ve saved me.”
--
Staring at the portrait now, Johnny still recalls all of those emotions as clearly as the day he’d first felt them. They fill his chest with a sense of completion, something he hasn’t experienced in many years.
Turning the lights off in the living room after another lingering look at the painting, Johnny heads to the bedroom where you wait for him.
When he finally joins you under the sheets, your bodies curl into each other. He closes his eyes, his face close enough to you to have his nose brushing your temple; your hand goes underneath the covers to rest over the birthmark on his side, the location of which you’ve memorized by now. You could find it blindfolded. You brush your fingers across it slowly.
And that birthmark is what you try to focus on as you fall asleep, instead of the myriad of thoughts that commonly crowd your mind at this time of night. The most consistent ones being about what your future will look like.
You are only some months away from graduating university now. No matter what comes next, your life with Johnny is something you never want to give up. You’d hold it forever if you could…and you want him to make that possible for you. You’d expressed that to him on more than one occasion.
Still, Johnny would never turn you. Most of his answers to your inquiries about it had been tense silence or firm, succinct rejections. He never raises his voice to you, but his demeanor and tone of voice in those moments is enough to tell you he hates the subject. At some point, you stopped asking. You won’t force him to do a thing he doesn’t want, even if you long for it deep inside.
Despite his steadfast refusal, you’ve entwined yourself with him so deeply that you’ve started to believe maybe you could live many more years beside him—long after your human body perishes. You hope he never forgets the taste of your blood, the few droplets of it he’s allowed himself to indulge in at your offering. Though he’s never done so with another lover, you hope he keeps all your pictures. You already know the portrait will stay with him forever.
You shift closer to give Johnny a chaste kiss on the lips, and he grins with his eyes still closed. The touch of his lips reminds you of your earlier kiss and the sharp, bloody iron that had lingered in his mouth. Maybe you didn’t need to be a vampire to experience the facets of his reality.
Because of him, you’d become accustomed to the taste of blood.
** contains semi-public sex/exhibitionism because this is office sex, blowjobs, some light face-slapping
You hated the cliche of a secretary sleeping with the boss. And yet. When your boss is Johnny Suh, you can finally understand the appeal of sleeping with your boss.
Your boss is smart and sexy. He’s funny and kind. Johnny always asks you how you’re doing each morning when he passes your desk. Some mornings he surprises you with a coffee or a smoothie or a pastry from the spot he stops by for breakfast on his way in. He makes it so easy to fall in love with him.
And as his secretary, you spend a lot of time with him. Long days, late hours, business trips.
You were sure everyone else at the company probably already thought that you were fucking Johnny, even long before it became a reality.
The company retreat took place at a campsite. One of those places that is designed for team-building exercises. It was a weekend-long event. Tents were set up, there was a big dinner planned for a Saturday night, a final extravagant lunch picnic on Sunday. Friday night, as everyone arrived, there were drinks.
There were a lot of drinks.
Johnny was your drinking buddy, and as it turned out, neither of you was too good at holding your liquor. It didn’t help that everyone wanted to toast the boss, drinking to each achievement of the company over the past year, and each time Johnny drank, he looked to you to take a shot too.
Before the night was half over, both of you were wasted.
“I think I’d better call it a night,” you force the words out after a few hours. You know you’ve had too much, it’s gonna catch up to you in the morning, and the day is packed with activities. “Drink some water, crawl in… well, not bed. My tent.”
Johnny laughs beside you.
“Boss, I think you need bed too,” laughs one of your associates. “Bed, water, some medicine. We have an early day tomorrow, right?”
You go your own way to your tent, down a half liter of water, pop something to help ease the headache you’ll wake to in the morning, and you snuggle down into your sleeping bag.
Hours later, you wake in the dark.
The campsite is quiet outside. Inside your tent, you can hear the other two women in here breathing (one of them snoring). Outside, the wind blows lightly, there’s the cast of the lights of the guest house (which contains the showers, toilets, and a kitchenette, as well as a wifi connection in case of emergencies) against the wall of the tent.
You’re thirsty. And you need to pee.
Wrapping your blanket around yourself, you leave the tent, walking quickly and quietly through the dark, passing the other tents filled with your sleeping coworkers.
You think you’re alone in your wakefulness until you step inside the guest house.
Johnny sits at the table, his phone to his ear, squinting against the bright light of his laptop’s screen. He looks up when you walk in, nodding at you in acknowledgement, and you head on to the restrooms.
When you return a few moments later, Johnny’s still sitting there, still squinting at the laptop, but his phone is facedown on the table now.
“I thought none of us were working this weekend,” you say as you move around the table to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “Not even supposed to bring our laptops, turn our phones off. Just really disconnect.”
Johnny does shut his laptop screen then. He turns to you, and says, “I’m the boss. I’m the exception.”
“Right.” You roll your eyes lightly. You pop the cap off your bottle and sit down beside Johnny at the table. “But what are you doing up? You didn’t have any calls scheduled for this weekend. And besides that, we both drank enough last night that I thought it was going to be a late start for everyone.”
Johnny taps his fingers against the back of his phone. “I just couldn’t sleep. I think I have a lot of pent up energy for this weekend. And I sober up pretty quickly, though it helped that Taeyong and Haechan were almost water-boarding me before they let me fall asleep.”
You can feel pent up energy under your skin too, though yours is likely of a different sort.
For months now you've been crushing on your boss, falling for him a little harder each day. And seeing him like this right now—a little sleepy, with his hair ruffled up on one side, his hoodie and flannel pants and a pair of fluffy socks on with his crocs—you’re just very endeared by him. He looks hot when he’s in his suits and his hair styled properly during the workdays, but seeing him in a much more relaxed state is very attractive too.
“You’re not totally awake, are you?” Johnny laughs, waving his hand in front of your face. “You zoned out there for a minute.”
Yeah, staring right at him.
“Sorry,” you mumble, shaking your head to clear your mind of Johnny, rid yourself of the thoughts of reaching out to smooth down his hair or the wilder imaginings of hugging him from behind with your hands tucked inside his hoodie pocket and your cheek against his shoulder.
“It’s okay.” Johnny tilts his head slightly to the side, watching you. “I’m not half-bad to look at, right?”
“Right,” you agree before your brain can fully process. Your eyes go wide as you realize that you just told your boss you find him attractive. “Oh! I mean—“
Johnny laughs, and this time he slaps a hand down on your knee. “You’re really still not awake, are you?”
Either you’re not fully awake or you’re still a little drunk. Maybe both.
Probably both.
Especially when you allow yourself to reach out and lay your hand over his on your knee. Johnny’s gaze drops down to your hand on his, but he doesn’t pull his back, and neither do you.
Drunk, tired, or just bold, you blurt it out now. “I think you’re quite nice to look at, actually, sir.”
You watch as Johnny just blinks down at your hands. Maybe he’s wondering if he’s fully awake right now or if this is just a dream (a nightmare?) playing out.
“You know how Yuta and Ten like to gossip?” You say, the words just spilling out one after the other even though part of you is screaming for your mouth to just stop moving. “Well, there’s a rumor around the company that there’s something going on between you and I. Isn’t that funny?”
Johnny doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t pull away, he just seems to be thinking, until finally he lifts his head.
“I’m your boss,” he says slowly, as if weighing the words on his tongue. “A relationship like that would be inappropriate.”
There’s no condemnation behind his words, no disapproval or disgust. His hand is still under yours. You look into his eyes, warm and deep brown, and he looks right back.
“It’s only inappropriate if we get caught.” Your loose tongue is going to get you in trouble if it just keeps spilling the words that come to mind. But there it goes again with, “You said it yourself. You’ve got a lot of pent up energy. Neither of us can sleep. I doubt anyone will be up to use the showers for at least an hour or two. We could release a bit of energy. Sir.”
Johnny licks his bottom lip, his gaze dipping down to your mouth. “There are rules against this, you know,” he says quietly. You can feel him losing his resolve, slowly leaning closer.
“You’re the boss,” you remind him. “You’re the exception.”
He smiles, a grin that sets your heart alight.
Johnny kisses you right there at the small table in the guest house, within view of the windows. It’s something that could have been a mistake, could have had terrible results if someone else were to be awake to witness it as they emerged from their tent, but in the moment neither of you was thinking properly. Your only thoughts were for Johnny, his hands and his lips and getting him to the showers to release some of your pent up energy.
You run your fingers through his hair, making it even messier, and at some point you pull yourself over onto Johnny’s lap.
You make out with your boss for a good long while until you’re feeling all soft and warm and (for lack of a better word) gooey, like a piece of caramel in Johnny’s hands. His hands knead at your ass, and you maybe subtly grind against him right there at the table until he at last pushes his hand up inside your shirt, touching your tits as he sucks on your tongue.
“Fuck me, sir,” you beg, arching your back, rutting yourself right against his bulge.
The showers in the guest house aren’t the nicest. They need a really nice, thorough deep-clean, or better yet, a renovation. But once Johnny has you inside the men’s shower room, pressing you across the tile floor to one of the private shower stalls, you don’t give a fuck what the state of the room is.
Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting everything in a hideous yellow-green hue. But the water is warm when Johnny turns it on, and his body is comfortable against yours as you press yourself close beneath the spray. For a while, you just touch each other, learning each other’s body while the water washes over you, until Johnny’s cock is aching and he’s got your pussy ready for him.
Your moans echo around the room, the tile bouncing back the sound of Johnny’s skin clapping against your ass right back at you.
He pulls out to cum across your ass, and you cum by pushing back to grind against his thigh. It's not as satisfying as it would’ve been had you had his cock inside you, but it’s still good.
Though, you do finally feel embarrassed afterwards, as you stand outside the shower to wring your hair out over one of the sinks. Johnny stands in the shower stall, the curtain drawn back as he pulls his hoodie back on.
He’s your boss. And you just fucked him, just like all the cliches.
“I’m going back to my tent. Get a little more sleep before the day starts,” you explain.
Johnny nods. “Yeah. That’s probably, uh, a good idea.”
It’s awkward. For what’s meant to be a relaxing, team building weekend, you feel tense and spend a good part of the day avoiding Johnny. You can’t believe that you had sex with him; you feel like a whore.
The awkwardness continues after the team building retreat. Monday morning, Johnny comes in later than usual. He greets you, but only cordially, not with the usual familiarity he treats you with. The tense avoidance stretches throughout the day up until it’s time for you to be leaving.
“Here,” Johnny slips you a note as he passes your desk.
You truly think nothing of it. As his secretary, he leaves you lots of notes, as you do to him as well. But after he disappears down the hallway, you glance at the note and see the invitation it presents.
“I’ve been thinking about Saturday morning,” the note reads, “If you have as well, be in my office when I return in 15. If not, burn this note, and we’ll forget any of this ever happened.”
Naturally, fifteen minutes later when Johnny passes by your desk, he finds it empty.
You’re sitting on his desk when he enters his office.
“Sir, are we repeating history?” You tease by uncrossing your legs, letting them spread apart to hint at a glimpse up your skirt.
Johnny locks the door behind him, closing the distance between the two of you quickly. “We are,” he says, “But this time, you have to be more quiet.”
He ends up fucking you bent over his desk, your panties stuffed in your mouth.
It’s easier after that. Less awkward now that you’ve both acknowledged that this is a mutual thing, this interest in each other. It helps that it begins to become more regular after that. Quickies in his office, secret kisses in the break room, and little gifts tucked inside your desk.
He once has you sit in his office while he’s on a call with some associated companies, and he plays with your pussy the entire call.
There’s a night a couple weeks into this when you’re both working a late night together at the office. Johnny follows you to the break room when you go to make shitty pick-me-up coffees, and you let him cage you in against the countertop, kissing at your neck with his hand down the front of your pants.
You call him sir because he likes it, that reminder of the inappropriate nature of this relationship, that power imbalance. He likes it too because it just sounds nice coming from your lips, the way you say it without total sincerity.
It’s probably quite obvious, you think, that you and Johnny are now finally participating in the activities you were rumored to be doing for so long. You hardly care, only when a coworker nearly walked in on Johnny and you once in the break room. You don’t care if they all suspect, but you don’t want them to see it, and if your coworker had walked into the room even a minute earlier, he’d have seen Johnny casually rubbing your ass while you leaned against his chest, both of you waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.
Now, there comes a day several weeks after this whole thing began, when you’re just feeling needy and careless—a dangerous combination.
You don’t care what Johnny’s plans are for the day, all you know is that right now you’re horny, and right now he’s alone in his office. You’ve been sitting quietly behind your desk outside his door, but the longer you sat as he was on calls all morning, the hornier you got. Your thighs were rubbing together, your fingers resisting temptation to just slip down and sneak in a few touches under your skirt.
So now that you know his last call just ended, you knock in the office door and enter the room.
Johnny is sitting behind his desk, elbows resting on the surface with his fingers massaging his temples.
“You look stressed, sir.” You step fully inside, closing the door behind you. “Anything I can help with?”
Johnny’s only response is to push back from the desk, baring his lap for you. You don’t for sure if he means for you to sit there, to bend over it, or what, but you do take a seat sideways in his lap, lifting your hand to brush your fingers along his cheek. Johnny sighs, leaning into your touch.
“We have that event coming up, and our organizers are shit.” He slides a hand against your waist. “Already we’ve had two vendors pull out on us, blaming a lack of cooperation from the team. I just got off a call with the venue staff’s rep, and she was telling me that our event has been unfortunately double-booked, that it’s only a slight overlap that will cut our event by an hour and a fucking half.”
Already you can see solutions to these issues. You hadn’t liked this venue much anyway, and it’s still not too late to change it. As for the vendors pulling out, you would just have to reach out to them personally. And then, the issue with the organizers, well, Johnny was head of the company, he could just fire them. There were plenty of people much better and more eager to organize than the present shoddy team.
But you don’t tell him any of that right now. You just stroke his cheek a little, and then lean in to kiss him lightly. “Do you need some stress relief, sir? I could give you a massage?”
Johnny eyes you, like he wants what you’re offering but he shouldn’t take it. Another kiss weakens his resolve.
“Go on,” he gives in. “A massage would be nice.”
His hand taps your ass as you stand to move around behind him. You trail yourself hands over his shoulders, knead your thumbs into the tense muscles, rub along the back of his neck and down his chest as well. Johnny rolls his head back with a low moan.
“Does it feel good, sir?” You lean in, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. Your tits press against his back. “Should I keep going?”
Johnny’s answer is a moan.
Your massage moves solely to his chest, passing your hands over his pecs, teasing your fingernails over his nipples through his crisp white button down. Meanwhile you keep your tits against his back, and you lean around him just enough that you can kiss him.
Your pussy is leaking arousal, ruining your pretty panties in all likelihood, but it’s okay. You know Johnny will fuck you over his desk before the day is done.
When your hands dip lower, over his stomach to brush your fingertips at his belt, Johnny moans again, louder this time, rocking his hips up off the seat. And when you cup your hand over his bulge, Johnny swears.
He pulls your hands away from him, turning his chair around quickly to face you. “Get on your knees,” he commands. “Be good, do it quick.”
Your knees hit the floor so fast you didn’t even have time to think about it. Your mind is blank, buzzing only with desire, the wet heat between your thighs controlling your mind as you watch Johnny unfasten his belt, unzip his pants, and pull his cock out.
“Come get it, sweetheart,” Johnny says, his fingers circling his shaft. “Use only your mouth.”
You scoot in, shoulders pressed between Johnny’s knees as he leans back in his seat.
You’re not sure you’re a fan of handsfree blowjobs, especially when Johnny confuses you by moving his cock just out of your reach, making you work for it. You chase his movement to the left, up, to the right, and then he slaps the tip of his cock against your cheek, leaving a wet blurt of his arousal against your cheek.
You whine, pussy throbbing now with new need. That was hot, and you need to have him in your mouth now. Luckily, Johnny gives you his cock then, allowing you to kiss along the shaft, trace your tongue around the tip and dip it into the weeping slit to taste him salty over your tongue.
You hold your mouth open for Johnny, waiting for him to slip it into your mouth, but instead he slaps his cock against your cheek again before he just lays his cock against your face. The sticky tip rests against your cheekbone for a moment while he taps it there.
“So pretty, sweetheart,” he moans. And then he drags his cock down, pushing into your waiting mouth.
You suck his cock obediently, handsfree, taking Johnny all the way down.
You’re just really getting into it, bobbing your head on him, paying special attention when you pull off to mouth along a prominent vein (that always really gets to him), when there’s suddenly a knock at Johnny’s office door.
“Shit, I forgot,” Johnny swears under his breath. He touches the back of your head, pulling you off him. “I have a little meeting with Lee Haechan. Think you can sit quietly under my desk until he’s gone?”
You nod. “Can I still have you in my mouth?”
Johnny nudges you into the alcove beneath his desk, blocked from the other side all the way to a half-inch above the floor. “Of course, that way you’ll keep quiet.”
“Come in!” Johnny calls, sliding his seat forward, caging you beneath the desk with his thighs.
There’s just enough room for you to slide forward, to fit your head between his lap and the top of the desk. To Johnny’s admirable credit, he doesn’t make a sound as you take his cock back into your mouth.
You hear the office door open and close, hear footsteps crossing the tile floor toward the seats across from the desk.
“Your secretary isn’t at her desk,” Haechan notes. “Otherwise I would’ve had her let you know I was coming in. She seems to be sneaking away from her desk a lot lately. I swear every time I’m in the break room, she’s in there too. Maybe you should punish her, sir.”
You swallow around Johnny, shuffling yourself closer to him on your knees. A punishment sounds fun. He hasn’t punished you much, and truth be told you probably do deserve one.
Johnny laughs. “Is she away from her desk too often or are you, Haechan?”
“Maybe we both are.” Haechan’s smile is evident in his voice. “Forget what I said about punishment.”
After that, you begin to zone out. Their conversation turns toward business, and you’re only business you care about is keeping Johnny hard in your mouth.
He hadn’t said anything about not using your hands now, so you don’t hesitate to bring a hand up and wrap it around his length when you have to pull off for a breath. You only tune in to the conversation again to listen for any signs of what you’re doing affecting Johnny, but his voice sounds surprisingly steady even as you kiss and suck at the sensitive spot just beneath the tip.
You’re having fun, doing whatever you like with his cock. You tap it against your lips, against your cheek again. You lick and kiss him however you like. Johnny doesn’t so much as twitch for the longest time. It’s only when you finally take him deep into your throat again, that he shows a sign.
Johnny clears his throat, his hand dripping down beneath the desk to curl around your wrist, squeezing tight. He shifts in his seat, rocking into the heat of your mouth.
“Are you okay, sir?” Haechan asks from the other side of the desk. “You just got really red.”
“I’m fine.” Johnny says shortly.
Pleased with yourself, you start moving.
Now that he’s given an inch, Johnny seems to keep slipping. He clears his throat more and more as the conversation with Haechan continues. He shifts in his seat, subtly grinding into your mouth, his hand flexes around your wrist until finally it grows to the point of crushing.
You pull off of his cock, barely stifling a hiss of pain as you reach for his hand around your wrist. It hurts. You tug at his fingers with your free hand. And the moment that your wrist is free, you pinch his thigh.
Johnny groans, his knee jumping up to knock against the underside of the desk. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, spinning his chair around so his back is to you and to Haechan. “My damn knee,” he curses, “You’re lucky you’re too young for joint pains.”
Haechan laughs hesitatingly on the other side of the desk. “You’re not that old, sir. And I’ve got my own aches and pains, I understand.”
Does he?, you think to yourself. Does he understand that the true source of Johnny’s ache is currently his cock, the rise to orgasm left unfinished?
You watch from beneath the desk as Johnny stretches his knee out, massaging it before he spins back around and shoves himself back against his desk, pushing his seat so far in that you have to move backwards to avoid getting a knee to the face. Your hands slip on the floor, and you consider staying there with your back pressed against the backing of the desk, but Johnny’s hand reaches beneath the desk, beckoning you forward with two fingers.
“You can go now, Haechan. We can discuss this more tomorrow at the team meeting.” Johnny’s dismissal is clear, concise. His invitation, or rather command, to you is also quite clear.
You move forward, hard-pressed to not sigh as he dives his fingers into your hair, pulling your mouth right back to his cock.
“Yes, sir! Thank you!” Haechan stands up, you hear his chair scraping across the floor. “I would ask if you want me to leave a copy of my report with your secretary, but she’s probably still in the break room, right?” His voice is teasing.
Johnny laughs, fingers tightening in your hair as you go down on him. “You can just leave a copy on her desk. I’m sure she’ll know what it is.”
Moments later you hear the door open and close again.
No sooner has the door latched shut than Johnny is pulling back, tugging at your hair to bring you forward. You crawl out from beneath the desk, following his cock.
“He’s right, you know,” Johnny groans, pulling out of your mouth, to your displeasure. “I should punish you. Always away from your desk. Doing activities inappropriate for the workplace.” He holds his clock right over your open mouth, his hand flying over his length. “How should I punish you, sweetheart?”
You whine. “I’m good, sir. Please, don’t punish me.”
Johnny bites his bottom lip, thumb sliding over his slick tip. “No, I think I will. Stand up.”
Your knees ache as you stand up, but you forget the pain when Johnny spins you around, bending you over his desk just as you’d known he eventually would.
This is familiar and good. Johnny pushing your skirt up, pulling your panties down. He pushes right inside you with no trouble, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from moaning, and when you feel that’s about to fail, you bite at your forearm. There’s a bruise there still from earlier in the week when you’d had a quickie in the restroom. It’s unfortunate because you’ve had to wear long sleeves all week in this tragically warm weather.
As he fucks you against his desk, papers crinkling beneath your body, you can’t stop thinking of the thrill of being beneath his desk just minutes ago, the power of holding his secret, of being his secret.
You cum like that, with Johnny thrusting into you and the taste of his cock still lingering on your tongue.
Johnny follows quickly after, pulling out to cum over your ass, never one to cum inside you.
He hits his softening cock against your bottom, smearing his cock through his cum, rubbing it into your skin like moisturizer. “I’ll have to think up a proper punishment for you, you know.”
You can’t imagine Johnny truly giving you an intense punishment. He’s too soft and gentle for that, but you won’t tell him that.
“Yes, sir,” you agree instead, standing up straight from the desk, crouching down to pull your panties up.
Johnny’s watching you when you turn around.
“Did it work?” You ask him, reaching out to brush your fingers over a wrinkle in his shirt. “Are you less stressed?”
“Yes,” he says, taking your hand from his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. “I am.”
You lean in, moving your hand from his lips to kiss him instead. It’s a slow but too-short kiss. “I think I have some ideas, by the way, about the event. To solve our problems.”
Johnny nods. “I’d like to hear them.”
You take a seat on his desk while he sinks back into his chair, rolling it close to you so he can hold your hand while he listens to you. Johnny’s so sweet with you, so attentive and caring, and you can’t help but wonder if this can ever be anything more than just a sexy little office romance.
With the way he’s looking at you like you hold the secrets to the universe, you really hope that there’s more to be had with Johnny.
dedication: @suhnnyskiess. this is a bit late but i appreciate your donation!! thanks for being a champ. here's a lil smth smth for you ☕️🤍
🤍 johnny as the campus' bad boy
“is this just how you kill time or are you really speedrunning death?” you plop your school bag down on the ratty couch of your modest apartment as you watch johnny smoke in the middle of your living room as if he's paying rent.
“is this just how you kill time or are you really speedrunning death?” you plop your school bag down on the ratty couch of your modest apartment as you watch johnny smoke in the middle of your living room as if he's paying rent.
johnny lazily looks your way as he puffs a billow of smoke from his lips, making you scrunch your nose at him. “welcome home,” he nods at you.
you don’t even hesitate to roll your eyes anymore as you grumble a quick “yes, my home.”
you’re used to johnny’s spontaneity—the campus bad boy lone wolf (and you wish you were joking when you said that)—he’s always appearing in your apartment so frequently that he gave you the honor of giving him a duplicate key (yes, he said that).
despite his cold exterior towards everybody else, you managed to break down his walls and meet the real him.
the him that always steals your leftovers—though you weren’t gonna lie, you appreciated the company.
“notes?” he outstretched his hands over the arm of the couch, making you want to snap it in half.
“you crash on my couch and steal my homework huh, what a bully,” you snub him, making him do mocking faces at you.
despite your spiteful comment, you do throw your papers at his face, which he catches with ease even when you tried to splay it all over his face.
“feisty today huh,” he comments as he puts out his cigarette on the ashtray—one that you specifically bought for him because he knows you don’t smoke. “and don’t even tell me it’s because of your period because i’m keeping track.”
you didn’t know whether to feel creeped out, flattered, or downright just shocked by his comment so you can’t even utter a reply. instead, you just give in to his observation as you slump on the space beside him, “just a rough day in general.”
“dude tell me about it,” he quips. it was just a phrase—an expression—but when johnny says it, you know that he sincerely wants to hear about your day, especially because it’s you.
but you just shrug it off, not really wanting to go into too much detail. instead, you wanted to just sit in companionable silence as you inhale the remainder of the cigarette’s scent.
as much as he tells you to stop sniffing his smoke, you somehow managed to not only get used to his smoking—but get addicted to the smell too.
taking your silence as an answer, johnny just gives you a pat on the back before picking himself off the couch, “k cool, well i’m gonna head to see haechan and the boys so imma dip.”
you just hum in response, his sluggishness rubbing off on you. having johnny as a friend is like accidentally adopting a cat—you do one nice thing for them and they come back occasionally for days then just disappear suddenly. at least now, he actually tells you where he’s going.
it’s actually quite funny how you became close to him.
during some senior’s frat party, he became so wasted that his friends couldn’t find him anywhere. enter: you, who barely had a sip of alcohol—not because you don’t drink, but you just stupidly brought your car with you and forgot that you wouldn’t have a place to crash so you needed to drive home.
you saw johnny lying in some nearby shrubbery, thinking he was dead or something, so you immediately came to his aid.
you brought him to his place and even helped him sober up. there were no pleasantries exchanged, just a person lending out a hand to someone who needed it.
the day after the party, johnny scoured the campus for you, not knowing that you left your other earring after it got caught in his sweater when you were assisting him back in.
despite being absolutely hammered, johnny remembers the blurry silhouette of an angel helping him get home safely. and if he had to corner every person on campus to see whose earring matches the one in his hand—so be it.
thankfully, he didn’t have to look any further because after the 6th person he harassed, he saw haechan and you eating together at the cafeteria.
who is this person? he wondered. he never saw you hanging out with one of his best buds before yet there you were, joking around with him.
he didn’t even need to check your ears—he just knew.
funnily enough, despite the fact that it was his initial motive; he didn’t say thank you when he gave you your earrings back. just a quick acknowledgement that you were indeed his savior.
however, ever since then, he started becoming attached to your hip. walking you home when you get held up on campus a little too late at night. getting you your favorite coffee order when you don’t buy one. even running back to your dorm to retrieve forgotten papers.
he’s just always been there.
you end up dozing on the couch, only awoken by the buzzing of your phone which you immediately answer.
“hey can you come to so and so place,” you hear johnny’s voice say before he immediately hung up. yup, he doesn’t take no for an answer. doesn’t even take a yes, he just assumes you’d follow his beck and call. if he weren’t so nice, you would’ve taken offense.
without even bothering to freshen up, you just walk out the apartment before walking straight to the place—the abandoned park near a cliff’s edge.
“i always wonder what made them think building a park near a hundred foot drop was a good idea,” johnny spoke up as he felt your presence beside him.
the two of you stand side by side, overlooking the bright city skyline over your elevated view.
“ah, i always look forward to the prospect of death during my morning jogs,” you snarkily reply which makes him chuckle.
“nice view though right?” he asks, a bit awkwardly.
“yup.”
“you feel better yet?” he asks, which makes you raise your eyebrows at him.
“yes? thank you..? what happened to your plans?” you make conversation.
“this is my plans,” he shrugs. although you’re confused, you just let it be.
“hey y’all making out yet??” you hear haechan’s voice a mere distance behind you, making johnny choke on air.
when he gets near, you immediately put him on a chokehold, “what the hell are you saying, pipsqueak.”
as if saying something he shouldn’t have, haechan froze in your arms before taking himself off your arms and looking at johnny with wide eyes, “what?” haechan asks.
“what?” johnny says.
confused, you join the conversation, “what???”
haechan points between the two of you, “aren’t you guys dati—”
johnny knees haechan on the stomach, lightly, but it was enough to shut him up.
“were you about to say dating?” you continue for him so johnny glares at the smaller boy further.
“what! it’s not my fault!!” he shouts at johnny before running away.
“is he like, okay,” you laugh a bit confused but you turn serious as you ask johnny for context.
he scratches the back of his head, “well i might have.. misunderstood some things..”
“and that is..?”
“ithoughtyouweremygirlfriend,” he quickly mutters under his breath but you weren’t able to catch that.
“pardon?” you ask him to reiterate himself.
“i tHOUGHT—” he coughs a bit, “i thought we were dating—until recently you said that we were just good friends.”
your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “is that why you’ve been appearing and disappearing more frequently lately?”
he shrugs so you just burst out laughing, making him rub his face roughly with his hands out of embarrassment.
“i mean, we can always just start now,” you shrug, now it was his turn to be surprised.
“wait really??” he asks and you just nudge him with your elbow.
“well i think you already told people that we were. wouldn’t that be so embarrassing for you if you had to take it back.” you tease. if you were heartless, you’d make him do that before dating him for real.
but this is johnny we’re talking about.
johnny who just groans at your teasing before smacking you in the head, “you’re paying for our first date then weirdo,”
you gasp, “wow! really? from the guy who mooches off me??”
you both just laugh it off, not even paying much attention to the birth of your new relationship. because perhaps, before you even noticed it, it already started long before now.
all that remains is the giddy laughs from an ice cold boy who’s nothing but warm smiles toward you.
Genre: angst & maybe a fluff if you're squinting hard.
Warning: affair, unhealthy relationship, kissing, implied sexual content
This fic was inspired by "Getaway Car - Taylor Swift"
•••
Right from the very beginning I know it deep inside my heart that this thing I'm about to jump into is gonna lead to nothing but misery for the both of us. But, mostly me.
But Johnny, he's worth the pain. Maybe that's why people do stupid things despite knowing the risks, like robbing a bank or forging a signature. Or in my case, getting involved with a heaven-sent, angel-looking devil.
It's the small hope that hangs on top of my head. So small I can't see it at times but I know its there, "What if?". What if he change? What if I can change him? How amazing the world would've been if the great, all-accomplished mighty Johnny change for me.
Everyone knows Johnny. Hell, how could everyone not? If we're talking about appearance, man's got a bullseye on board. A perfect ten. His tall lean figure paired with broad shoulder and even a great face is a recipe to everyones heart at first sight. The fact that he has the personality too is even worse. He knows what to say and when to say it. He'd lure you in like some kind of black magic. Leaving you wanting, longing, craving for more. Craving for him. And the worst part of it all is he knows.
I have known of Johnny way before I met him. I've heard the way people talk about this one particular guy from a high school nearby who always seem to be everywhere. Parties, events, competitions, festivals, whatever it is you name it, he's there. So when I finally met him. It didn't take long for him to charm his way into my heart.
Nothing really happen between us after that. He graduated high school a year earlier than me and move away. I didn't think that much of it, not like there was ever anything between the two of us anyway. He's got a girlfriend for fuck's sake.
But when that letter of college acceptance came in. And I moved 12,397 km away from my hometown, a glimpse of hope arise.
"You should just give me a call if anything happens. Or if you ever need anything, really. Having a good friend from back home feels reassuring." Johnny soothingly says after I calmed down, freaked out over a huge pile of enrollment paperwork.
"Thanks, it sure does feel better knowing there's a familiar face around." I smile towards him as I gather what seemed to be an endless amount of paper.
He mirrors my smile, "What about housing? Figured that out yet?"
"Nope, I was thinking off-campus but that'll just add more things for me to worry about, like bus fare and everything."
"So, dorm it is. I'll see what I can do to get you a spot this late. I might know some people that could help." he coos, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
Hearing the words coming out of his mouth, I scoff, "Of course you do. But thanks Johnny, that would be perfect."
•••
The two of us quickly become good friends. I turn to him for a lot of stuff and to my surprise so does he. With the common area of my dorm—which he came through with, thank God—being the place where we hang out most.
It all started very innocent. A friend helping a friend in times of need. That's normal. I'd listen to his complain about his problems. How his girlfriend is borderline caging him with possessive attitude. Adding more stress on top of the one he's been having from school's unrealistic workload.
But at some point, somethings changed. Call me delusional but the distance he put between the two of us over the shared textbook when we study together grow smaller each time. And the oh-so-delicious cologne he's been wearing since forever did not help at all.
Before I know it, I become his getaway car.
Then, that cursed night happened. The rain was unforgiving, drenching me head to toe. I wipe my face trying to get a clear vision of a moving vehicle nearing me. It turns out go be his car pulling up right in front of my soaking self.
“What are you doing?! I told you to wait inside!” he shouts, moving his head signaling me to get inside his car.
“It was jam packed, the humidity is killing me. I’d rather stand in the rain.”
“Are you joking?! You’ll catch a cold.” his tone is harsh unlike his delicate hand drying the water from my face with his gym towel from the backseat, while the other snakes behind my head. Gripping me in place.
“I’ll be fine Johnny, I promise.” I breathe, not realizing just how close Johnny's face from mine at the moment.
The moment I look up to his caring eyes, his movement on my face halts. His eyes finding mine with heavy breaths coming from the both of us. The silence is sickening and I can longer hear the heavy raindrops drumming his car. All I hear is rapid heartbeat from the two of us, and his has sirens in it.
"Johnny, I—" I try to speak in an attempt to suppress the heavy tension growing in an animalistic pace between us. But Johnny's having none of that.
He crashes his lips into mine in a split seconds. Pouring out all the tension thats been piled up without any of us wanting to acknowledge it.
His lips both hot and cold at the same time. Devouring and moving against my shocked stiff one in a motion so sweet I forget all risks I've been weighing in the back of my mind for sometime now. All my worries and concerns melting with every stroke from his gym callused hands. So rough yet so soft against my damp skin thanks to the rain.
When I finally ran out of common sense thanks to both his expert hands and and mouth, I gave in. Mouth moving against his, matching his pace.
•••
Nothing could have prepared me of what's to come. With neither of us trying to justify what happen that rainy night in his car the very next morning, Johnny and I embark on one hell of an emotional roller coaster. Giving each other comfort both emotionally and physically.
And like I said, a clever man, that Johnny is. Knowing the right thing to say and when to fucking say it. Giving me a taste of heaven and hell in this very world.
“Johnny,” I try to start as I lay there in his room with half of my body weight pressing on top of him. Getting comfortable after he took me to what feels like heaven just a few minutes ago.
“Yes, angel?” he hums with his eyes closed, hands reaching around me drawing random pattern on my bare back.
“Are we.. a bad person? For doing this?” I hesitate before nuzzling my head even deeper on his bare chest. Accentuating my question.
“Everyone has a bad side, angel. Nobody’s perfect,” he tightens his arms around me before continuing. "but I don't know, you might be tho."
This time, his playful persona and jokes couldn't save him. Despite the happiness, joy and pleasure he's been giving me these past year, the guilt I feel inside never suppressed.
Guilt so strong I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweats. Praying to whatever higher being is up there to help me out of this mess I very enjoy creating. How do I get out of this?
"You're always like this. Avoiding things, shower me with praises to get out of this topic. It’s been long overdue, Johnny." I hide my face in his chest. Can't seem to find the courage to look him in the eye after what just came out of my mouth.
Johnny brings one of his hand to his face and let out a heavy frustrated breath, "Then what do you want from me, angel? Haven't I given you enough?" the nickname adds a soft touch to his maddening words.
"I can't live with the guilt. It's killing me, Johnny." I squeeze the sentence out, trying to fight back the tears that threatens to burst.
After a quiet pause he says, "I can't leave her. She needs me emotionally, the way I need you.”
And that did it. Tears streaming down the side of my face, pooling on the dip between Johnnys' chest. Body starting to shake unconsciously.
Johnny abruptly sits up, still holding me. Pulling my leg across his lap, cradling me as if I am a baby.
"Angel, I'm so so so so sorry. I'll make it better, okay? I promise I'll make it better." he says kissing the top of my head repeatedly. Still swaying our body back and forth. "Hang in there, stay with me."
•••
A few months past, Johnny finally come to his senses and choose between the two of us. Breaking the poor girls’ heart and hiding behind 'putting her off of the misery'. I should be happy, right?
But the guilt never went away. Not when one of my best friend is also friends with the poor girl. Not when people back home keep talking and reminding me about how cruel I am for doing what I did to their relationship.
It's always the girls fault. Though both Johnny and I were perfectly sober and conscious when this whole thing started on that damned cursed night.
I try to talk to the said best friends whom I've been putting in a very difficult position, which is right in the middle of my stupid triangle travesty. Not in one of the pointy angles, but exactly in the middle of the shape. She heard my-very weak- defenses, and choose to stay silent.
"I'm not gonna add anything to this mess by forwarding any messages from and to any of y’all. I love y'all equally, but speaking my mind, you're at fault girl." is what she said the last time I try to talk to her. One hundred percent not blaming her. I was shocked she even wanted to talk to me, I'd probably went apeshit if it was the other way around. It isn't though.
More time passes and I've been living the dream with my now official boyfriend, the Johnny fuckin Suh. Doing things backward than what traditionally done. Like posting picture of him for the first time publicly 17 months in the 'relationship'.
Everything smooth sailing as long as I don't pay attention to what people say. And also having closure from the poor girl I hurt through our mutual best friend. I really should thank her properly.
But of course, nothing good starts in a getaway car.
With his final year approaching in accounting school and my crazy calendar as a law student come crashing down, the amount of time spent together become less and less.
The anxious feeling flooding in the longer we go with this pace. Meeting once a week, maybe two times at most. With him on his phone practically the whole time. Phones blowing up when we finally have the time to spend the night together.
I've never been the type of girlfriend who'd ask the annoying question like 'who are you with?' or 'is there any girl?' but I find myself keep doing it with Johnny. Maybe I'm starting to get scared that karma's gonna bite me hard in the ass.
A very selfish way of thinking coming from a girl who's basically a home-wrecker.
And now, here I am. Sobbing through the pain after having the exact same conversation Johnny had with his ex—well, now ex before me—many months ago. Having no one to cry to, mostly ashamed for feeling this way after making someone else felt this way.
A new angel has come and grace his devil self. Bringing comfort that I couldn't provide no more, his words not mine. I know deep down this heartbreak gonna come for me sooner or later. The fear I had about changing become reality.
He could never change. Couldn't be saved. Not by his ex, not by me and surely not by his new angel.
So, I dry my tears using the very gym towel he used that night to do the same thing. Pull out my phone and start typing.
Johnny, thank you for the joy & pain you gave me these past few years. I hope you find true happiness, just so you can stop making people feel as shitty as I do right now. Goodbye.
•••
HEY GUYS! THIS BLOG HAVE MOVED TO BY-SOLEIL!
here’s the new link for the fic! from now on all my fics will be posted over there, if you guys could kindly go and follow me there I'd really appreciate it<3
more of my stuff on my masterlist🤍
Pairing: Johnny Suh x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.2K+
Genre: angst & maybe a fluff if you're squinting hard.
Warning: affair, unhealthy relationship, kissing, implied sexual content
This fic was inspired by "Getaway Car - Taylor Swift"
•••
Right from the very beginning I know it deep inside my heart that this thing I'm about to jump into is gonna lead to nothing but misery for the both of us. But, mostly me.
But Johnny, he's worth the pain. Maybe that's why people do stupid things despite knowing the risks, like robbing a bank or forging a signature. Or in my case, getting involved with a heaven-sent, angel-looking devil.
It's the small hope that hangs on top of my head. So small I can't see it at times but I know its there, "What if?". What if he change? What if I can change him? How amazing the world would've been if the great, all-accomplished mighty Johnny change for me.
Everyone knows Johnny. Hell, how could everyone not? If we're talking about appearance, man's got a bullseye on board. A perfect ten. His tall lean figure paired with broad shoulder and even a great face is a recipe to everyones heart at first sight. The fact that he has the personality too is even worse. He knows what to say and when to say it. He'd lure you in like some kind of black magic. Leaving you wanting, longing, craving for more. Craving for him. And the worst part of it all is he knows.
I have known of Johnny way before I met him. I've heard the way people talk about this one particular guy from a high school nearby who always seem to be everywhere. Parties, events, competitions, festivals, whatever it is you name it, he's there. So when I finally met him. It didn't take long for him to charm his way into my heart.
Nothing really happen between us after that. He graduated high school a year earlier than me and move away. I didn't think that much of it, not like there was ever anything between the two of us anyway. He's got a girlfriend for fuck's sake.
But when that letter of college acceptance came in. And I moved 12,397 km away from my hometown, a glimpse of hope arise.
"You should just give me a call if anything happens. Or if you ever need anything, really. Having a good friend from back home feels reassuring." Johnny soothingly says after I calmed down, freaked out over a huge pile of enrollment paperwork.
"Thanks, it sure does feel better knowing there's a familiar face around." I smile towards him as I gather what seemed to be an endless amount of paper.
He mirrors my smile, "What about housing? Figured that out yet?"
"Nope, I was thinking off-campus but that'll just add more things for me to worry about, like bus fare and everything."
"So, dorm it is. I'll see what I can do to get you a spot this late. I might know some people that could help." he coos, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
Hearing the words coming out of his mouth, I scoff, "Of course you do. But thanks Johnny, that would be perfect."
•••
The two of us quickly become good friends. I turn to him for a lot of stuff and to my surprise so does he. With the common area of my dorm—which he came through with, thank God—being the place where we hang out most.
It all started very innocent. A friend helping a friend in times of need. That's normal. I'd listen to his complain about his problems. How his girlfriend is borderline caging him with possessive attitude. Adding more stress on top of the one he's been having from school's unrealistic workload.
But at some point, somethings changed. Call me delusional but the distance he put between the two of us over the shared textbook when we study together grow smaller each time. And the oh-so-delicious cologne he's been wearing since forever did not help at all.
Before I know it, I become his getaway car.
Then, that cursed night happened. The rain was unforgiving, drenching me head to toe. I wipe my face trying to get a clear vision of a moving vehicle nearing me. It turns out go be his car pulling up right in front of my soaking self.
“What are you doing?! I told you to wait inside!” he shouts, moving his head signaling me to get inside his car.
“It was jam packed, the humidity is killing me. I’d rather stand in the rain.”
“Are you joking?! You’ll catch a cold.” his tone is harsh unlike his delicate hand drying the water from my face with his gym towel from the backseat, while the other snakes behind my head. Gripping me in place.
“I’ll be fine Johnny, I promise.” I breathe, not realizing just how close Johnny's face from mine at the moment.
The moment I look up to his caring eyes, his movement on my face halts. His eyes finding mine with heavy breaths coming from the both of us. The silence is sickening and I can no longer hear the heavy raindrops drumming his car. All I hear is rapid heartbeat from the two of us, and his has sirens in it.
"Johnny, I—" I try to speak in an attempt to suppress the heavy tension growing in an animalistic pace between us. But Johnny's having none of that.
He crashes his lips into mine in a split seconds. Pouring out all the tension thats been piled up without any of us wanting to acknowledge it.
His lips both hot and cold at the same time. Devouring and moving against my shocked stiff one in a motion so sweet I forget all risks I've been weighing in the back of my mind for sometime now. All my worries and concerns melting with every stroke from his gym callused hands. So rough yet so soft against my damp skin thanks to the rain.
When I finally ran out of common sense thanks to both his expert hands and and mouth, I gave in. Mouth moving against his, matching his pace.
•••
Nothing could have prepared me of what's to come. With neither of us trying to justify what happen that rainy night in his car the very next morning, Johnny and I embark on one hell of an emotional roller coaster. Giving each other comfort both emotionally and physically.
And like I said, a clever man, that Johnny is. Knowing the right thing to say and when to fucking say it. Giving me a taste of heaven and hell in this very world.
“Johnny,” I try to start as I lay there in his room with half of my body weight pressing on top of him. Getting comfortable after he took me to what feels like heaven just a few minutes ago.
“Yes, angel?” he hums with his eyes closed, hands reaching around me drawing random pattern on my bare back.
“Are we.. a bad person? For doing this?” I hesitate before nuzzling my head even deeper on his bare chest. Accentuating my question.
“Everyone has a bad side, angel. Nobody’s perfect,” he tightens his arms around me before continuing. "but I don't know, you might be tho."
This time, his playful persona and jokes couldn't save him. Despite the happiness, joy and pleasure he's been giving me these past year, the guilt I feel inside never suppressed.
Guilt so strong I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweats. Praying to whatever higher being is up there to help me out of this mess I very enjoy creating. How do I get out of this?
"You're always like this. Avoiding things, shower me with praises to get out of this topic. It’s been long overdue, Johnny." I hide my face in his chest. Can't seem to find the courage to look him in the eye after what just came out of my mouth.
Johnny brings one of his hand to his face and let out a heavy frustrated breath, "Then what do you want from me, angel? Haven't I given you enough?" the nickname adds a soft touch to his maddening words.
"I can't live with the guilt. It's killing me, Johnny." I squeeze the sentence out, trying to fight back the tears that threatens to burst.
After a quiet pause he says, "I can't leave her. She needs me emotionally, the way I need you.”
And that did it. Tears streaming down the side of my face, pooling on the dip between Johnnys' chest. Body starting to shake unconsciously.
Johnny abruptly sits up, still holding me. Pulling my leg across his lap, cradling me as if I am a baby.
"Angel, I'm so so so so sorry. I'll make it better, okay? I promise I'll make it better." he says kissing the top of my head repeatedly. Still swaying our body back and forth. "Hang in there, stay with me."
•••
A few months past, Johnny finally come to his senses and choose between the two of us. Breaking the poor girls’ heart and hiding behind 'putting her off of the misery'. I should be happy, right?
But the guilt never went away. Not when one of my best friend is also friends with the poor girl. Not when people back home keep talking and reminding me about how cruel I am for doing what I did to their relationship.
It's always the girls fault. Though both Johnny and I were perfectly sober and conscious when this whole thing started on that damned cursed night.
I try to talk to the said best friends whom I've been putting in a very difficult position, which is right in the middle of my stupid triangle travesty. Not in one of the pointy angles, but exactly in the middle of the shape. She heard my-very weak- defenses, and choose to stay silent.
"I'm not gonna add anything to this mess by forwarding any messages from and to any of y’all. I love y'all equally, but speaking my mind, you're at fault girl." is what she said the last time I try to talk to her. One hundred percent not blaming her. I was shocked she even wanted to talk to me, I'd probably went apeshit if it was the other way around. It isn't though.
More time passes and I've been living the dream with my now official boyfriend, the Johnny fuckin Suh. Doing things backward than what traditionally done. Like posting picture of him for the first time publicly 17 months in the 'relationship'.
Everything smooth sailing as long as I don't pay attention to what people say. And also having closure from the poor girl I hurt through our mutual best friend. I really should thank her properly.
But of course, nothing good starts in a getaway car.
With his final year approaching in accounting school and my crazy calendar as a law student come crashing down, the amount of time spent together become less and less.
The anxious feeling flooding in the longer we go with this pace. Meeting once a week, maybe two times at most. With him on his phone practically the whole time. Phones blowing up when we finally have the time to spend the night together.
I've never been the type of girlfriend who'd ask the annoying question like 'who are you with?' or 'is there any girl?' but I find myself keep doing it with Johnny. Maybe I'm starting to get scared that karma's gonna bite me hard in the ass.
A very selfish way of thinking coming from a girl who's basically a home-wrecker.
And now, here I am. Sobbing through the pain after having the exact same conversation Johnny had with his ex—well, now ex before me—many months ago. Having no one to cry to, mostly ashamed for feeling this way after making someone else felt this way.
A new angel has come and grace his devil self. Bringing comfort that I couldn't provide no more, his words not mine. I know deep down this heartbreak gonna come for me sooner or later. The fear I had about changing become reality.
He could never change. Couldn't be saved. Not by his ex, not by me and surely not by his new angel.
So, I dry my tears using the very gym towel he used that night to do the same thing. Pull out my phone and start typing.
Johnny, thank you for the joy & pain you gave me these past few years. I hope you find true happiness, just so you can stop making people feel as shitty as I do right now. Goodbye.
•••
HEY GUYS! THIS BLOG HAVE MOVED TO BY-SOLEIL!
from now on all my fics will be posted over there, if you guys could kindly go and follow me there I'd really appreciate it<3
