Summary: you worked really hard for that, and you finally was accepted as an exchange student at Neo Culture Institute of Technology. But, for some reason, the system crashed and put you into an all-boys dorm.
Pairing: Johnny Suh x female reader
Warnings: curse words, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol use, love triangle (kinda), mentions of food.
⚠️ this is a fictional piece, the characters and their behaviors are purely fictional and DO NOT represent their actual personalities
⚠️ There are going to be other characters appearing along the chapters
⚠️ There will be quite a few written chapters because I love them
⚠️ English is not my first language, so pardon me if there’s any mistake on the writing.
hi..! can i request a reaction of nct127 and how/what’d they do for their first kiss with their boyfriend.. thank you in advance! ~🍒
Ive wanted to post somthing for a while but the other members will come out soon. Thanks so much for requesting acxevvi
Taeyong
He would be cooking for his friends, (Y/n) would be sitting on the counter taste testing things. Taeyong wouldn't let him do anything. Being honest, (Y/n) didn't want Taeyong to tell him he was cutting up peppers wrong. Taeyong's hair was parted in the middle as the steam blew in his face. He turned for a fresh spoon and dipped it in the tteokbokki pan. (Y/n) saw the spoon in his face and tasted what was on the spoon. The man said, "It needs more sesame." Taeyong hummed in agreement. "You'll be able to taste it better if you close your eyes." (Y/n) did as he said and opened his mouth. He didn't get the metal spoon but rather warm lips. he caught on quickly and threaded his fingers in Taeyong's hair. Both of them could taste the sauce on each other's lips. Taeyong broke apart first, "So how is the sauce now?"
Taeil
It was just a movie night between (Y/n) and himself. None of the other guys wanted to see the movie but they all knew it was because Taeil would be all over (Y/n). Good for them but the rest of the guys' didn't need to see it. Taeil grabbed the bowl of fresh popcorn and walked out into the living room. (Y/n) was sitting with pillows and a singular blanket. He noticed the one blanket but didn't say anything about it, They did it when the guys were there. Why should it be any different, it was just 2 boyfriends watching a movie. Halfway through the movie, Taeil did the cliche arm over the shoulder. (Y/n) saw what he was doing and rested his head on the other's shoulder. As the man on his partner's shoulder started to fall asleep; Taeil saw his opportunity and leaned in. (Y/n) could feel his warm breath ghosting his face and he took the chance and leaned forward.
Johnny
It was a beautiful rainy cool day in Seoul, two men sat by an open window with books in hand. The soft pittering of rain was only interrupted by a rumble of thunder. Johnny's head looked to his right and something caught his attention. "Hey (Y/n), look at this. You need to come closer." (Y/n) did as Johnny said and was right next to the other's face. (Y/n) was still looking for what his boyfriend said to him but he couldn't see it. Johnny saw his chance and leaned forward; only pecking the man's lips. (Y/n) gave him a sly smirk, "Maybe I should get a little closer."
Doyoung
(Y/n) entered the NCT 127 practice room with too many trays of coffee for his boyfriend's friends. He had spent so much time with them that he knew all of their orders. The boys all stood up and thanked (Y/n) for the coffee, there was a slight confusion over whos coffee was whos but after a few groans they figured it out. Doyoung sat next to (Y/n) as he sipped his coffee. "Thank you (Y/n), you always look out for us." The man put his arm around Doyoung and he whispered that it was no problem. Doyoung buried his face in the other's neck. It was a few moments until he lifted his head and looked into (Y/n)'s eyes. The build-up was slow but the kiss was tender and slow. When they separated, the rest of the world came into focus again and they could hear the rest of the men groaning.
Summary: Johnny knows how hot he is. Oh he knows. He also knows that a certain someone has had a crush on him for a very long time. And he also knows you’re not confident enough to address it. But this is the catch for you, you see: because he is.
Genre: Fluff? I don’t think it is... But it ain’t exactly hardcore smut, is it? If ya’ll wanna kiss John Seo then this is a fic that caters to that very purpose, kk
Warning(s): Johnny.
Word Count: 2965 how is this longer than the min&joo one wHaT
Theme Songs: Flower Shower - Hyuna; Who Is In Your Heart Now? - Studio Killers
AN: December 13 prompt, mistletoe! (credit: @songi-writes) Also, can we have some more appreciation for Johnny’s lips pls. They are the definition of beautiful! And also my man Johnny in general like come on guys he’s out here serving looks, personality and comedy on a diamond encrusted plate my dudes, give him some attention
Set in a university.
~~~
The party was loud. A butchered club-remixed christmas song hammered the speakers at the hands of a completely sozzled DJ, as the throng of people shimmering like hyper-flammable lycra ebbed and flowed with the beat like shoals of plastic fish beneath the cheap strobe lights.
House parties were never that good, if you were honest.
But this one.
This one was spectacular.
You wished you could say the reason for you believing so was actually good, or anywhere close to rational.
But alas, it was not, since your reason was literally a boy.
Not just any old boy, though, in your defence.
No no, it was the one of those god-crafted creatures whose blessed features had been cropping up in your line of sight ever since the beginning of the year. At the cafe, at the mall...
Even in your favourite hidden-gem vintage charity shop.
One of those boys.
It was if Fate wanted you to do something.
But you never would.
Never.
Because you knew who this boy was.
Johnny Seo.
God of charisma, king of basketball, comedy gold.
He was on the front of the university monthly magazine for nearly every edition, he had his own radio show, he got extra-special discounts at several bars because he was just so...
He was in the choir for god’s sake, and he was the one person no one made fun of for it.
There was no way you would risk ousting yourself out for ridicule like that.
You may not be the smartest in the world, but you knew that asking him out for him to inevitably turn you down would make you the laughing stock for the rest of the year.
And that was the best case scenario.
It wasn’t like you thought poorly of yourself, not at all. You were intelligent, and talented, and certainly attractive enough.
It’s just you knew you lacked something. The thing that separated him from everyone else. The thing that made him destined for the stars whilst everyone else settled for the moon.
The thing that no doubt made you feel head over heels for him when you’d barely even spoken to him.
It wasn’t your way to do things at all, but here you were.
Caught in a daze, admiring him as he spoke to someone else.
You were so out of it, you hadn’t even noticed that that someone was actually your best friend.
She didn’t see what you saw in the guy, and merely laughed at you when she caught you like this, rolling her eyes every time you stuttered an flimsy explanation at her.
This time you were purely snagged on his lips alone.
Soft, gentle, the gateway to all the secrets that he knew, and all the words he could inspire the world with.
Hand-drawn by an artist and delicately positioned on his features, their ulterior motive to make those lips hurt you as you dreamt of running the pads of your fingertips across them, touching them with your own, seeking a sanctuary and your own hell in them.
God, it wasn’t fair.
Whoever got to kiss them even only once must have saved a nation in a past life.
.
.
Caught in your daydream, you were hardly subtle.
You never were.
Johnny couldn’t help but glance over at you whenever he had the opportunity, and it didn’t change in this case either.
Even if your best friend was watching. Maybe if she noticed she’d urge you to do something after all.
He cracked a smile, completely unrelated to what your best friend was saying, at the thought of how shy you were.
You just didn’t want to cause anyone trouble, whether it be him, your best friend, or yourself. You wouldn’t want to even be a trouble to the people you no doubt had invented in your own head, purely as a reason to stop you from saying anything to him. No, you wouldn’t even want them to exert themselves in mocking you.
You were wiser than he ever was though because he just let himself flow into things head first and then talked his way out of the consequences, always relatively unscathed.
But the fact remained, you would never do something.
So it was on him.
He hadn’t expected to see you around in the same places as much as he did. You’d had a lot more in common than he’d expected when he first saw you.
He thought you’d have been into much... less ordinary things.
He didn’t know really, maybe the sunlight had dazzled him then, but that day in the summer when he first saw you, your laugh rivalling the entire world’s music, your eyes rivalling the galaxies above, your lips...
He was entranced by them then, just as he was now, transfixed as they gradually parted to mouth the thoughts charging through your head.
He wondered what you were thinking, whether it was about him.
Oh who was he kidding, he knew it was about him. You were all he could think about too, after all.
Suddenly, something knocked his arm.
He snapped his eyes away, lips curving into a charming smile familiar to you—the one that always appeared when he’d been caught doing doing he shouldn’t be doing.
Sucked to be him though, because your best friend was extremely gay and hella proud of it, and so wasn’t having any of his antics.
“Hey,” she shouted over the music, “she’s been pining after you for months on end, Mr I’m-Seo-Hot-And-I-Know-It. Put me out of my goddamn misery and kiss her already?”
He blinked at her, startled but relieved nonetheless.
He had the perfect idea, and this was the cue to enact it.
.
.
You barely registered the fact he’d walked over before it was too late.
Johnny’s drop-dead gorgeous face and unwavering stare was focused solely on you within a single blink.
Your daze shattered as you were thrust into reality.
He then said something.
You panicked.
You hadn’t heard what he said. The music had stopped too at that very moment, parting the sound for you to hear his velvet smooth voice as well as Fate had garnered it so, and your dumb ass hadn’t even been listening.
Too focused on the pools of onyx that made up his eyes.
You cursed to yourself in your head. Pull. Yourself. Together.
All he’d said was hi.
“Hey, I was talking to your friend. She said you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by the party and wanted to leave but since she was being selfish and didn’t want to, you’d been stuck here waiting for her?”
He waited diligently for you to respond.
Eventually you nodded dumbly.
Realising that was the best he was going to get, with a gentle smile, he continued, “Well, I was heading out, and will happily walk you back, if you’d like?”
That smile wasn’t one you recognised.
You scolded yourself for feeling a spike of excitement at that thought. You haven’t seen him that much, you haven’t seen every smile that those lips of his have curved beautifully into.
You were just too eager to jump on the ‘he sees me differently from everyone else’ train.
Which was obviously a poor reaction, in your opinion.
Oh, how little you knew.
You managed a word this time, however. Congrats.
“Please.”
He flashed you his characteristic, bright, welcoming, dashing grin, offering out his hand for you to take.
He just wanted to help you out of your chair.
A gentleman.
The way your breath hitched at that much.
It wasn’t wise to take his hand though.
Your hand would be clammy from the heat of the party, and your nerves from just being close to him.
And he may suspect something.
Ha.
But it would be too smart to listen to your own mental advice, regardless.
You took his hand instinctively, and got to your feet a little bit too fast for your own liking.
And then he asked you another question.
This time you didn’t hear because it was too loud. And you had no hope in hell in guessing what it was, because you’d ushered your eyes away from his own. His eyes were too good to look into for long periods of time. Unhealthy for you. They made you blush too hard.
Wait was he doing the long stare deliberately?
.
.
He presumed your coat, if you had one and he sure hoped you did because it was cold out and he didn’t want you sick, was by the door.
Leading you through the crowds, flashing that smile at a couple of people to get them to move, with his hand very very lightly brushing your shoulder to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowds.
It was polite, but also protective.
Maybe your past life had been pretty good.
But had you saved a nation?
Probably not?
Reaching the porch, and seeing the mounds of coats, he sweat-dropped. Even if yours was in there, it would take forever to find it.
“Hey, is your coat, like, not black?” he enquired, closing the door to block most of the sound from the other rooms.
You hesitated, forcing the cogs in your head to turn. Suddenly you hit a spark and remembered. “I didn’t have a coat with me. I forgot.”
He looked concerned to say the least, and you were confused as to why.
Before you could think about it for even a second, he passed you a chic trench coat. It matched his outfit.
Oh no.
“I... no I—”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, catching onto your pause. He held it out, nodding his head and indicating for you to turn around.
You obliged, and let him slip the coat over your arms, and up to your neck. Tying it up at the front by one button, it was huge on you.
He’d forgotten how much taller he was than you.
Oh well, you looked absolutely adorable.
He could have kissed you right then.
But he had to stick to the plan.
“Is it left or right to your apartment?” he asked, opening the front door to the cold outside.
.
.
Walking along the ice cold streets, at an awfully slow pace, you almost felt your heart return slightly back to normal.
You felt bad for making him take such short steps, it being icy and yourself in nice but not exactly practical shoes for the weather.
His legs were so long, you wondered what it was like to be tall.
Actually, his legs were astoundingly proportioned, with those thighs—
“I know a shortcut, actually,” he announced, slightly out of the blue, especially for him.
Truth be told, he’d been trying to think of a way to get you to go with him to the tree. It wasn’t en-route at all, but he couldn’t think of a better excuse.
That being said, he couldn’t deny the impact taking in the sight of you had on his thought process.
It was a lot to handle, that was for sure.
“Oh, ok, sure.”
Turning the two of you into the park through the gate a few steps away, you quickly realised that there was no shortcut this way, having walked this way a couple of times before.
But there was a real brightness in his eyes, and it wasn’t just the streetlights.
He seemed excited.
So you followed beside him, keeping up with his light conversation as best you could. Though you still couldn’t quite render what was going on.
He’d asked you about your favourite bands, your favourite animals, what you liked to do on an evening. He moved onto deeper things, your opinions on the latest news events, whether you believed in ghosts, what you thought of conspiracy theories.
And though you were nervous, it didn’t feel wrong. Or worrying. Or unnatural.
Eventually words began to flow from your lips like they normally did. Perhaps you were even more honest than you usually were.
Johnny didn’t judge. In fact he just told more embarrassing stories about himself. Like where he’d got some of his scars from, some of the people he’d met, and what being in the choir was truly like.
“Honestly, I don’t know what those jocks are making fun of choir kids for,” he explained, “choir-ing is hard. Not only does everyone gossip over one another, but the teachers berate you too. There’s no loyalty in the choir, it’s a basket of snakes, all armed with not one knife, but two! Only the most wary and sly stay alive.”
“So how do you keep yourself alive then?” you asked, genuinely unable to see this man as ‘sly’.
“Good question, my secret, you see, is—” He glanced up, away from your face, to spot that he’d reached his destination. “—going to have to wait.”
Before you could protest, he utilised those long legs of his and took off quite far ahead, up the mound central to the park, crowned by a giant bare maple tree.
You followed him, head and feet working separately as your eyes stared at him, where he waited.
You could still remember the folklore of the maple tree, told to you by your best friend when you met them under it. Fate made it so that if you kissed beneath it, your love would remain eternal.
It was a bunch of crap really, because so many couples had kissed beneath its branches and broke up within weeks. You and your best friend had laughed about it numerous times before, hearing their sickly vows from where you sat in the summer a tree away, before making bets on how long they would—
Oh.
Your feet brought you to a standstill right in front of the man you’d admired from afar for so long.
“I’m sorry for dragging you a little further from your dorm,” he said, smiling sweetly and apologetically, “but I had an idea and I couldn’t let it go to waste.”
You noticed his hand, pointing upwards, above both him and you.
Your joints were heavy, out of shock and also the sheer will of wanting this to not be a dream.
There, above your head, was a sprig of mistletoe, tied to the branch and fluttering in the wind.
“I know we haven’t spoken much, but I’ve been so intrigued by you for the past year, and I know you have too,” he began, his words instantly bringing your focus back to him.
You pushed yourself to meet his stare. As much as it made you feel vulnerable, it felt so good to finally take them in at close proximity, to have them to yourself, to have him to yourself alone.
To you surprise, it was Johnny that looked away first, gaze looping to the grass, mottled with snow, as he continued, “And since I didn’t know how to move things forwards exactly, I decided that this would... well,” he looked back up, eyes glimmering with a smile at the corners, even if his lips did not follow, “it would at least be memorable, all cinematic, even if it didn’t...”
You stepped forwards, cold-blemished hands slowly edging up to his face.
Cupping his cheek, you flinched at how icy the skin you found there was, only to replace your hand with much more certainty after.
His hand came up to hold yours, to press your palm into his skin.
It felt slightly rough, with some craft he no doubt could teach you. They were warm, strong, welcoming. You wanted to just, hold them. Between your fingers, against your cheek, to your heart.
You couldn’t manage to stare into his eyes any longer, the passion in his stare was too much to handle, and so you reverted to taking in the lines and shadows of his face.
You didn’t expect anyone this beautiful to even exist on earth and yet here a person was, with his soft skin and sculpted jaw and those inviting lips...
Shifting your hand out from his, you pulled it away, and instead to where you could feel his breath, cool and clouded upon your skin.
You pressed a single finger against the cushion of his bottom lip, running the pad across the etches, just as you’d dreamt of doing for so long.
His hand came to meet yours once again, but instead held it still at his lips.
And there he pressed a kiss into your fingerprint.
“May I kiss you properly?”
You almost choked on your own heart at his words.
“Yes,” you whispered, standing as high as you could reach, your arms snaking around his neck to mirror his own actions, his hands dropping and holding you close by the waist.
Your lips met and it was nothing like you’d imagined.
It was so much more than that.
They were so much warmer, so much more sweet and delectable than you could have ever guessed. Ambrosian.
You were in heaven by his touches alone, secure and protected from the cold and cruelty of the rest of the world, even if only for a moment.
How could you have lived without this the whole of your life?
His hair was smooth to touch, as you wrung some tresses between your fingers, soaking up as much of him as you could.
He didn’t pull away until you did.
And you only did so because you had lost all of your air.
You breathed heavily as you shivered in his arms, his forehead pressed against yours.
“Kiss me again?” you pleaded, voice barely anything more than the breeze.
He opened his eyes, fingers reaching up and stroking your hair away from your face.
“Gladly.”
How many nations had you saved?
~~~
AN: Edited, and I honestly don’t understand how I expected you guys to understand some parts lol
It’s legible now tho!
AN: I didn’t intend for this to be kind of sad. This idea started out all nice and soft and weird. And then I got sad and then oops
~~~
There you were.
Atop of the old Scarborough Hill.
The place you had described to him with such lucidity, he felt he had been there too; scurrying along the green, flying kites so high up they appeared like crimson dashes in the clouds.
It was now a wreck, festering with undergrowth and thorns, overgrown and thick, half of its face lost to the heavy rain a year before, discarded to more of a cliff than a hill.
Even though you could no longer run around freely without checking your step, for rabbit holes or mud or brambles, you still came up here when the ground below no longer felt secure.
Even if the ground up there was most likely much less safe, you loved it all the same.
He should have made this the first place he looked.
As he stumbled around rhododendrons, wilted and mottled in the rain, he took a deep breath, noticing how close you were to the edge. He wanted to call out to you, ask you to come away, but he knew it wouldn’t draw you any further back.
Coming to your side, he wound his hands deeply into his pockets, the damp air matting his hair.
“Found you,” he murmured with a smile.
Your eyes brightened, but you didn’t look away from the sky. “Ah, Mr Seo. I never doubted you for a second.”
Not too far above, a kestrel hovered. Soft ochre feathers struck the light drizzling grey bluntly, as its dappled wings beat the wind, holding its sleek body poised while its eyes keened downwards.
“It’s strange...” he stated, “it’s you that’s leaving this time, rather than me.”
He watched your head dip, as you readjusted your waterproof coat. “I know. I never thought it’d happen. Did you?”
He chuckled briefly, voice tinged with despondence. “No, never.” He pressed his fringe back, blinking up at the full extent of the sky. “But you know you can’t run away from it, Y/N.”
“I know, I just,” you paused, feeling your throat constrict ever so slightly, “just don’t want to say the words at all, you know?”
You peered up at him, where he met your gaze, his soft lips twitching immediately into a smile.
He extended his fingers, brushing against your cheek, speckled rouge and icy by the empty breeze.
His skin was met by a sliver of transparency. It welled in your eyes and was lost to the world before you could hold it back.
Without hesitation, you pressed yourself against his chest. A cacoon of warmth, mellow and smooth with kindness and peace. The scent that surrounded you never felt like anything other than home - faint traditional laundry detergent, mixed with some unrecognisable confectionary and the pine of a cologne with a price you couldn’t imagine.
You could set yourself free for just a bit when he was around you.
You snuck your mittens around his neck, as he wrenched his arms out of his pockets to cradle you, like he always did.
“Hey...!” he hushed, head gently falling unto its bed on the crown of your hair, “It’s not like you’re going forever! I’ll still be here.”
“But this time won’t be, this place won’t be!”
“You say that as if we’ll never see each other again,” he chided dejectedly, “you know I wouldn’t let that happen-”
“But what if it did happen?” you cried, swallowing thickly and speaking into his jacket, “not... not like it was anyone’s fault, but- you know I never answer my phone! I forget...”
“You won’t forget,” he assured, hands tightening at your waist.
You took a shaky breath. “Maybe it’s better if I just stay here-”
“No!”
He held you at arm's length abruptly. His stare was intense, and this time you leant away. You opened your mouth to speak, but he gave you no opportunity.
“No. You will not stay here,” his tone stern, “give up your ambition for me? Some? Some dumb guy from Chicago? Who’s never even around as much as he should be?” He scoffed. “No!”
You straightened, smiling sheepishly. “Ok, I didn’t mean that I swear.”
“Promise?” He leant down, almost tauntingly.
“I promise. I’m just depresso.”
“And that was the depresso talking?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Silence settled upon the two of you like fog drifted across a plain. You rubbed your eyes with your coat sleeve, forgetting the drizzle had made it damp, leaving your face even colder.
Working up the courage to face him properly, bracing your eyes for the wind, you noticed the kestrel had swooped down below. Or flown away, you’d been too preoccupied to know.
“I’m proud of you, you know?”
Seeing him beam like that, cheeks smushed and eyes curved, his words... you felt you could cry all over again.
“I’m proud of you too!” you mumbled, voice too strained to manage much else.
“And you better come and visit me!” He ordered playfully. “Or else...!”
You matched his mischievous glint, “Hmm, I’m not sure...”
He pouted. Exaggeratedly. Full, enlarged, puppy dog eyes. The full deal.
You couldn’t help but break into laughter, “Of course! Tree.”
“Aw, thank you, midget.”
You gravitated back into his arms, your gloved hands coming to reach his cheeks delicately. “Kiss me?”
“Normally I wouldn’t hesitate, but,” he side-eyed the ledge, “can we come a little bit further away from Certain-Death-TM, please?”
You abode his request, the two of you shuffling a few steps across, giggling softly.
And there, at the crestfallen face of Scarborough Hill, crowned by the dying light tainted grey, your lips met for the final time.
