Synopsis: The world fears mafia boss like death itself—but the moment his wife disappears without security, the ruthless monster everyone fears becomes a terrified husband ready to burn the entire city down to find her. Especially when she comes home with life-changing news.
WORD COUNT — 11.7k+
The mansion was silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence either.
It was the kind that made grown men lower their heads and avoid eye contact. The kind that crawled beneath skin and whispered danger.
Every servant stood frozen. Every guard looked one second away from death.
And at the center of it all stood .
Black dress shirt rolled to his forearms. Gun still holstered at his side from the mission he had returned from less than twenty minutes ago. Crimson stains dotted the cuff of his sleeve—not his blood.
His expression?
Cold.
Deadly.
The most feared mafia boss in the country had walked into his mansion expecting warmth. Expecting his wife to run into his arms with that bratty grin he secretly adored.
Instead, he got silence.
“She left at six, sir…”
The personal guard’s voice shook violently.
Heeseung slowly turned his head.
“And you let her?”
The guard looked ready to collapse. “S-She ordered us not to follow too closely—”
A gunshot echoed through the mansion.
Several maids flinched.
The guard dropped instantly.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Heeseung stared at the body emotionlessly before speaking in a terrifyingly calm voice.
“Find her.”
The room erupted into motion.
Phones rang.
Cars started.
His men scattered across the city like hunting wolves.
Because everybody knew one thing:
If Y/N was hurt…
Heeseung would burn the entire city down looking for whoever touched her.
—
Meanwhile, Y/N was completely unaware of the chaos she caused.
She sat outside an ice cream shop, swinging her legs happily while eating vanilla ice cream from a tiny cup.
Today had been perfect.
First the gynecologist appointment—which nearly made her pass out from nerves.
Then the arcade.
Then the tattoo shop.
And now ice cream.
Honestly? Best day ever.
Well… except for the fact her hands still trembled every time she looked at the tiny paper bag in her purse.
Positive.
She was pregnant.
A tiny smile spread across her face again.
“Heeseung’s gonna lose his mind…”
She could already imagine it.
The terrifying mafia king who made politicians tremble would probably stare at the pregnancy test like his brain stopped functioning.
The thought made her giggle.
She had wanted to tell him only after it was confirmed. That’s why she snuck out alone.
Because if she had told him beforehand?
He would’ve brought twelve doctors, armored vehicles, and probably a helicopter.
“Dramatic man,” she muttered affectionately.
After finishing her ice cream, she stood and stretched carefully.
Her lower back stung slightly beneath her clothes from the fresh tattoo.
Worth it though.
Absolutely worth it.
Now she just needed to get home and surprise her husband.
—
The moment the mansion gates opened, Y/N blinked.
Why were there so many cars?
Men stood everywhere.
Armed.
Tense.
The second her car stopped, several guards rushed forward.
And then she saw him.
Heeseung stood at the top of the mansion stairs.
Still.
Deadly.
His dark eyes locked onto her instantly.
Y/N’s smile faltered a little.
“…Oh.”
Uh oh.
He descended the stairs quickly.
Not running.
Heeseung never ran.
But the speed in his steps made everyone move aside immediately.
Before she could even greet him, his hands grabbed her shoulders.
“You’re hurt?”
“No?”
“Did anyone touch you?”
“What— no.”
“Why is your phone off?”
“Oh…”
His jaw tightened.
He scanned her from head to toe like he was checking for injuries. His hands moved to her arms, waist, face—searching for any sign of pain.
Finding none only barely calmed him.
The guards around them looked terrified.
“Everybody out,” Heeseung ordered coldly.
Within seconds, the entrance hall emptied.
The massive doors shut behind them.
And then silence returned.
Y/N looked up at him carefully.
“…Baby?”
“You left the mansion alone.” His voice was dangerously quiet. “Without security.”
“I can explain—”
“You disappeared for hours.”
“I know but—”
“Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”
She blinked at him.
Heeseung rarely raised his voice with her.
But right now?
He looked genuinely furious.
No.
Terrified.
“I came home,” he continued tightly, “and you were gone. No guards knew where you were. Your phone was off. You vanished.”
Y/N’s expression softened slightly.
Ah.
So that’s what this was.
Not anger.
Fear.
“My phone died,” she admitted quietly.
He closed his eyes briefly like he was fighting for patience.
“You don’t leave alone.”
“Heeseung—”
“You don’t sneak out.”
She crossed her arms.
“You act like I’m gonna explode if I walk outside.”
“You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“But I didn’t.”
“That isn’t the point.”
She sighed dramatically before walking toward the couch.
“Baby, relax. You’re being dramatic.”
His eyes widened slightly.
“Dramatic?”
“Yes.”
“You disappeared for seven hours.”
“And I came back alive and gorgeous.”
He stared at her in disbelief.
Then she patted the couch beside her.
“Sit.”
He should’ve refused.
Should’ve continued lecturing her.
Should’ve stayed angry.
Instead, he walked over automatically because somehow this woman controlled him without effort.
The second he sat down, Y/N climbed directly into his lap.
His hands instantly moved around her waist out of instinct.
“There,” she said proudly. “Much better.”
“You think this fixes things?”
“Mhm.”
“Y/N.”
She smiled softly this time.
Then reached into her purse.
Heeseung watched her pull out a small white stick.
At first, confusion crossed his face.
Then realization hit.
Everything around him seemed to stop.
“…What is that?”
Y/N suddenly looked nervous.
For the first time all day.
“I went to the doctor today,” she admitted quietly. “That’s why I snuck out.”
His arms around her tightened slightly.
“And?”
She placed the pregnancy test carefully into his hand.
Positive.
Heeseung stared at it silently.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Like his brain refused to process it.
Y/N bit her lip nervously.
“Well?” she whispered.
He looked up slowly.
And she had never seen that expression on his face before.
Not rage.
Not coldness.
Not calculation.
Pure emotion.
“You’re pregnant?”
She nodded.
For several seconds, he said absolutely nothing.
Then suddenly he pulled her against him so tightly she squeaked.
“Oh my God—”
“We’re having a baby,” he murmured against her hair like he still couldn’t believe it.
His voice actually shook.
Y/N blinked in surprise.
The ruthless mafia king was trembling.
A laugh escaped her softly.
“You really are dramatic.”
He pulled back just enough to stare at her.
“You went alone to a doctor while pregnant?”
“…Maybe?”
His expression instantly sharpened again.
“Y/N—”
“Oh come on.”
“You should’ve had security.”
“I wanted one peaceful day.”
“You are carrying my child.”
“And I’m still me.”
He exhaled slowly, clearly trying not to argue.
Then his hand carefully rested against her stomach.
So gentle.
Like she was made of glass.
The sight melted her completely.
“You happy?” she asked softly.
He looked at her like she asked the dumbest question possible.
“You gave me everything.”
And for once, the feared mafia boss looked nothing like a monster.
Just a man hopelessly in love with his wife.
Y/N grinned suddenly.
“Oh! I forgot.”
His brows lifted slightly.
“There’s another surprise.”
“…Another?”
She nodded mischievously.
Immediately he looked suspicious.
“What did you do?”
She gasped dramatically. “Wow. No trust.”
“You disappeared all day.”
“Fair point.”
She slid off his lap and grabbed his hand.
“Come with me.”
He let her pull him upstairs.
Inside their bedroom, Y/N turned toward him with a grin that usually meant trouble.
Heeseung crossed his arms.
“I’m concerned.”
“You should be excited.”
“That sentence never ends well with you.”
She laughed before turning around slightly and moving her shirt carefully just enough to reveal the fresh tattoo inked along her lower back.
Elegant.
Beautiful.
Dangerously attractive without being vulgar.
Heeseung stared at it silently.
Then at her.
“You got a tattoo.”
“Mhm.”
“Today.”
“Mhm.”
“Without telling me.”
“You were busy being scary somewhere.”
He stepped closer slowly.
His fingers hovered near the tattoo carefully, not touching the irritated skin.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
She smiled softly.
It was his initials woven into a delicate design.
Subtle.
But meaningful.
His eyes darkened slightly with emotion again.
“You’re insane,” he muttered.
“And you’re obsessed with me.”
“Obviously.”
She turned around fully.
“So? Do you like it?”
For a moment he simply looked at her.
This chaotic, teasing girl who ignored rules, terrified his guards, snuck out alone, came back pregnant, and somehow still managed to own his entire heart.
Then he pulled her gently against his chest.
“I love you,” he said quietly.
Y/N blinked.
Because Heeseung rarely said it aloud.
Not because he didn’t feel it.
But because he showed it differently.
In protection.
In devotion.
In the way the entire world bent for her.
Still…
Hearing it made her smile instantly.
“I know,” she teased softly.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Brat.”
She laughed brightly before wrapping her arms around his neck.
And somewhere deep inside that cold, dangerous mansion—
For the first time in years—
finally felt peace.
Three weeks later, the entire mafia organization had unofficially entered a state of emergency.
Not because of enemies.
Not because of rival gangs.
Not because of weapons.
Because Y/N craved strawberries at three in the morning.
And apparently took pregnancy cravings more seriously than international warfare.
“Why are there six people in my kitchen?” Y/N asked sleepily.
Nobody answered.
Mostly because they were terrified.
One chef was cutting strawberries.
Another was baking pastries.
Someone else was blending milkshakes.
Two guards stood awkwardly holding grocery bags.
And in the middle of it all stood Heeseung wearing black sweatpants and a dark t-shirt, sleeves rolled up while personally checking strawberry quality like his life depended on it.
Y/N stared.
“…Baby.”
He looked up instantly.
“You’re awake.”
“Yes, because I heard a whole restaurant operating downstairs.”
“You said you wanted strawberries.”
“I said maybe.”
“That sounded serious.”
She blinked slowly.
Then burst out laughing.
“You’re insane.”
The feared mafia boss ignored her entirely and walked over with a plate.
“Eat first.”
Y/N smiled softly despite herself.
Pregnancy changed Heeseung in terrifying ways.
Not softer.
No, the world still feared him.
Men still trembled when he walked into rooms.
Enemies still disappeared overnight.
But with her?
He became unbearable.
Possessive.
Overprotective.
Obsessed.
“You can stop glaring at the strawberries,” she muttered while taking a bite. “They didn’t offend me.”
“They looked unripe.”
“Baby…”
“They could upset your stomach.”
She snorted.
God.
He was doomed.
—
By month three, Heeseung had become everybody’s personal nightmare.
“No heels.”
Y/N stared at him blankly.
“What.”
“You almost tripped yesterday.”
“I literally stepped on carpet.”
“You stumbled.”
“I breathed wrong and you panicked.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“And?”
“And now you belong to me and the baby.”
She gasped dramatically.
“Excuse me? I belonged to myself first.”
His dark eyes narrowed slightly.
“You know what I mean.”
She grinned.
“You’re bossy.”
“You’re reckless.”
“You still love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
Y/N threw a pillow at him.
He caught it easily before walking toward her desk where she sat scrolling through baby clothes online.
Immediately his expression softened.
That happened often now.
Especially whenever he caught her unconsciously touching her stomach.
“What are you looking at?”
“Tiny shoes.”
“…Why are they so small?”
She giggled.
“I know right?”
Heeseung sat beside her quietly.
For several minutes, he simply watched her scroll.
Tiny onesies.
Baby blankets.
Stuffed animals.
And somehow this man—who negotiated weapon deals and ordered executions without blinking—looked genuinely intimidated by baby socks.
Y/N noticed instantly.
“You’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
“You looked at that sock like it threatened you.”
“It’s small.”
“It’s literally a baby sock.”
“How does a human fit into that?”
She laughed so hard she nearly fell sideways.
Heeseung immediately steadied her.
“Careful.”
“There he is,” she teased. “Paranoid dad.”
His hand moved instinctively to her stomach again.
Their baby wasn’t even showing much yet.
But he touched her like he needed constant reassurance they were both real.
Alive.
Safe.
“I just…” He paused quietly. “Need you okay.”
Y/N’s expression softened instantly.
Sometimes she forgot what his world looked like.
Violence.
Enemies.
Blood.
Fear.
He spent years surviving in a life where people lost everything overnight.
So of course he was terrified.
Not for himself.
For her.
For the baby.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly.
“We’re okay, Hee.”
His eyes flickered toward her.
Only she called him that.
Only her.
“Promise?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ll tell me if something hurts?”
“Yes.”
“If you feel sick—”
“Yes.”
“If anything feels wrong—”
“Heeseung.”
He sighed.
She smiled before taking his hand and placing it over her stomach again.
“You know,” she said softly, “our baby’s definitely gonna bully you.”
His brows lifted.
“Impossible.”
“Baby, I already bully you.”
“You terrorize me.”
“Exactly. Genetics.”
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips.
Rare.
Real.
Beautiful.
God, Y/N loved that smile.
—
The next disaster happened during baby shopping.
Because apparently bringing into public while pregnant was equivalent to escorting a loaded weapon into civilization.
“Why are there so many guards?” Y/N whispered.
“Security.”
“There are literally twelve men following us.”
“Sixteen.”
She looked horrified.
“Heeseung!”
“What?”
“We’re shopping, not invading a country.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“That is not an explanation for military formation.”
He ignored her completely.
The luxury baby store had emptied almost immediately once people recognized him.
Employees stood stiffly.
Nobody dared approach.
Meanwhile Heeseung examined strollers with the same seriousness he used when planning assassinations.
“This one.”
Y/N blinked.
“That stroller costs more than a car.”
“It has suspension.”
“For what? Off-road baby racing?”
“It’s safe.”
She grabbed his arm dramatically.
“Our child cannot become spoiled before birth.”
He looked at her blankly.
“Too late. It’s my child too.”
Fair point.
Unfortunately.
Thirty minutes later, Y/N sat on a couch inside the store eating snacks while Heeseung bought basically everything.
Cribs.
Blankets.
Clothes.
Toys.
Bottles.
A terrifying amount of things.
“Baby,” she called lazily, “our child is still cooking.”
“I’m preparing.”
“You bought three strollers.”
“One for each property.”
She stared.
“…You have issues.”
He walked back over calmly before kneeling in front of her.
Several employees nearly fainted seeing the infamous mafia boss on his knees.
But Heeseung only focused on Y/N.
“Tired?”
“A little.”
“Want to go home?”
“Mhm.”
Immediately he stood and signaled the guards.
Shopping trip over.
Mission complete.
Y/N giggled quietly.
“You’re whipped.”
He looked down at her.
“You carry my entire world inside you.”
And just like that—
She melted again.
Because no matter how terrifying was to everyone else…
With her?
He loved too deeply.
Too fiercely.
Like losing her would destroy him completely.
And honestly?
Maybe it would.
The day they found out the baby’s gender, the entire mansion nearly exploded from chaos.
Because genuinely stopped functioning.
“A girl?”
The doctor smiled nervously. “Yes, congratulations—”
“A daughter?”
“Yes.”
Y/N burst out laughing beside him.
The infamous mafia boss looked completely stunned.
Like somebody had unplugged his brain.
“A baby girl,” Y/N repeated teasingly.
Heeseung slowly looked toward the ultrasound screen again.
Tiny.
So tiny.
His daughter.
Something dangerous softened in his eyes instantly.
And Y/N knew right then—
It was over for everybody.
Because Heeseung was already obsessed.
“You’re crying,” she whispered dramatically.
“I’m not.”
“There are literally tears in your eyes.”
“Shut up.”
She laughed harder.
The doctor wisely stayed silent the entire appointment.
—
After that day, Heeseung became even worse.
“No pink.”
Y/N blinked.
“What?”
“No overwhelming pink nursery.”
“She’s a baby girl.”
“She can have elegance.”
“She can have pink.”
“She can have both.”
“Baby, she’s not attending a business meeting fresh out the womb.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“That’s exactly why I’m concerned.”
He narrowed his eyes while adjusting the tiny bracelet around Y/N’s wrist carefully.
Everything became careful now.
Gentle.
Protective.
Especially as her stomach grew bigger.
And God—
She was beautiful.
Not that Heeseung ever stopped looking at her like she hung the stars themselves.
But during pregnancy?
It became ridiculous.
The glow in her skin.
The softness in her cheeks.
The way she unconsciously cradled her stomach while talking.
Heeseung looked at her like she was something sacred.
Untouchable.
His entire world.
Which made leaving for missions almost unbearable.
“I don’t like this.”
Y/N sighed while fixing his tie.
“You say that every time.”
“You’re almost eight months.”
“I know how pregnancy works, thank you.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
The mission was important.
Dangerous.
He hated leaving her.
Especially now.
“You’ll call me immediately if anything hurts.”
“Yes.”
“If you feel dizzy—”
“Yes.”
“If—”
“Heeseung.”
His hands slid around her waist carefully.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She kissed his cheek softly. “Go finish your scary mafia business and come back to me.”
His eyes softened instantly.
“To you and our daughter.”
Y/N smiled warmly.
“Exactly.”
—
One and a half months later, Heeseung finally returned home.
Exhausted.
Bloodied knuckles.
Dark circles beneath his eyes.
The mission had dragged longer than expected, and every single day away from Y/N nearly drove him insane.
The first thing he did after entering the mansion?
“Where is she?”
“She’s upstairs, sir.”
He moved immediately.
But halfway there—
He heard voices coming from his office.
He paused.
The large doors were slightly open.
Inside, several men sat around the conference table discussing shipments nervously while Heeseung’s second-in-command led the meeting.
Then the doors opened wider.
Y/N entered quietly.
The entire room instantly stood.
Because nobody in this mansion feared anyone more than Heeseung—
Except maybe his pregnant wife.
Y/N looked exhausted.
One hand rested against her lower back while the other supported her stomach gently.
Nearly eight months pregnant now.
Beautiful.
Glowing.
And visibly uncomfortable.
Then her eyes found Heeseung standing near the doorway.
Immediately her face lit up.
“There you are.”
Every cold edge in Heeseung disappeared instantly.
He crossed the room quickly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled tiredly. “My back hurts.”
His expression darkened with concern immediately.
“You should be resting.”
“I was trying to,” she complained softly. “But our daughter keeps using my ribs as a playground.”
A few men around the table looked like they wanted to disappear.
Watching their terrifying boss fuss over his wife felt weirdly intimate.
Y/N ignored everybody completely.
She simply grabbed Heeseung’s arm before guiding him toward the chair at the head of the table.
Then—
Without hesitation—
She climbed directly into his lap.
The entire room froze.
Heeseung instantly wrapped his arms around her protectively.
“You okay?” he murmured against her hair.
“Mhm.”
“You eat?”
“Yes.”
“Water?”
“Yes, dad.”
One of the men accidentally choked on air hearing that.
Heeseung shot him one glance.
Silence returned immediately.
Y/N shifted slightly against his chest before sighing happily.
“I missed you.”
His arms tightened around her.
“I missed you more.”
Then less than two minutes later—
She fell asleep.
Right there.
Curled against his chest during a mafia meeting.
The room stayed completely silent.
Nobody dared move.
Heeseung looked down at her sleeping face carefully.
Her breathing slow.
Peaceful.
One hand still resting over their daughter protectively.
And something inside him ached painfully.
Because this woman trusted him so completely.
Even now.
Even surrounded by dangerous men and violence and bloodshed—
She slept peacefully in his arms.
Like he was home.
His thumb brushed softly across her cheek.
“Continue the meeting,” he said quietly.
Nobody missed the gentleness in his voice.
—
The delivery happened three weeks later.
And it was the first time Y/N ever saw genuine fear in Heeseung.
Not anger.
Not rage.
Fear.
Pure panic.
“Breathe, baby.”
“I AM BREATHING!”
“You’re squeezing my hand too hard.”
“You did this to me!”
“That’s fair.”
Another contraction hit.
Y/N nearly murdered him with her glare.
Meanwhile Heeseung looked one second away from losing his sanity.
Doctors moved around carefully.
Nurses whispered instructions.
And the infamous mafia boss stood beside the hospital bed looking paler than everyone else combined.
At one point the doctor calmly said, “Sir, you need to relax.”
Heeseung stared at him coldly.
“My wife is in pain.”
“Yes, but your pacing is stressing the staff.”
“I’ll buy the hospital.”
Y/N laughed despite the pain.
“See? Dramatic.”
Hours later—
Everything changed.
A tiny cry filled the room.
And suddenly the world stopped.
“She’s here,” the doctor smiled.
Heeseung froze completely.
The nurse carefully placed the baby into Y/N’s arms first.
Tiny.
Perfect.
Beautiful.
Dark little hair.
Small pout.
And immediately—
Heeseung’s daughter wrapped tiny fingers around his thumb.
That was it.
Done.
Destroyed.
The ruthless mafia king melted instantly.
His eyes watered openly this time.
No denial.
No hiding.
Y/N looked exhausted but glowing as she smiled weakly at him.
“She has your eyes.”
Heeseung stared at both of them like nothing else existed.
His girls.
His entire universe.
—
By the time their daughter turned one, everybody knew one thing:
was hopelessly whipped.
Completely.
Utterly.
Pathetically.
For both his wife and daughter.
“Papa!”
The tiny toddler ran across the garden clumsily.
Heeseung immediately bent down and caught her before she could trip.
“There’s my princess.”
Y/N watched from the patio while laughing softly.
Their daughter looked exactly like a dangerous combination of both of them.
Heeseung’s eyes.
Y/N’s attitude.
Poor world.
“She’s spoiled,” Y/N called out.
“She deserves it.”
“She made you buy her three stuffed bears yesterday.”
“She pointed at them.”
“That is not a valid defense.”
Heeseung ignored her completely while their daughter grabbed his cheeks happily.
Then his gaze shifted toward Y/N.
And just like always—
He stared.
Because even after pregnancy…
Even after sleepless nights and chaos and motherhood…
She was breathtaking.
Actually no.
Worse.
She somehow became even more beautiful.
Softer.
Warmer.
Glowing in ways he couldn’t explain.
Y/N noticed him staring and raised a brow teasingly.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
She snorted.
“I literally have baby food on my shirt.”
“And?”
“And I look exhausted.”
“You look perfect.”
Their daughter suddenly pointed toward Y/N excitedly.
“Mama!”
Immediately Heeseung walked over carrying their little girl.
His girls.
Always his girls.
Y/N smiled as they reached her.
Then their daughter grabbed both their faces dramatically and squished them together.
Heeseung actually laughed.
A real one.
Warm and deep and rare.
And for a moment—
The feared mafia king wasn’t terrifying at all.
Just a husband.
Just a father.
Hopelessly in love with the little family that healed every broken part of him.
tags + warnings: cowboy!highsexdrive!seungcheol x fem!reader, breeding kink, creampie, praise kink, riding, public sex (?), mdni 18+
synopsis: “save a horse, ride a cowboy”
a/n: we all NEED a man like cheol ughh, anywayss enjoy my first svt fic <3 love you mwahh
୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
you weren't exactly sure how long you'd been riding. a horse? no. in fact, you were riding the hottest cowboy you’d just met in the west town. the man, who hastily introduced himself as "cheol," had offered you a ride when your poor Dodge Charger broke down, but it seemed the two of you interpreted "ride" in entirely different ways. so now, instead of heading to your appointment, there you were, straddling him in a deserted parking lot beside the western pub, his vintage car creaking beneath you.
the soaring heat of the day was long gone and mellowed into a dusky twilight, casting long shadows across the deserted lot, and yet,, cheol wasn’t finished. the foggy windows and the ring of white cum forming at the base of his shaft might have been a good indication of how long the both of you might have been doing the deed but nobody seemed to be paying attention anyways.
“hah….fuck…s’good” cheol was propped up on the backseat of the car, old-fashioned belt and jeans pooling around his knees, a sheen of sweat trickling down on both sides of his forehead, but amidst the sweltering heat in the car, his eyes never left yours. while you, on the other hand, were barely keeping up with the pounding. he had both of his huge hands wrapped around the sides of your waist, guiding you up and down his dick repeatedly, simultaneously bucking up his hips rhythmically to press sweet kisses on your cervix. of course, you were a moaning and whimpering mess, blabbering incoherently, tears forming at the brim of your eyes. “nnngh…cheol…can’t” you whine weakly. “slow down, please…hah..” yet despite your protest, cheol seemed to be driving you close to your umpteenth orgasm. but this time, he was finally close too.
“fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s it, attagirl, gonna fill you up to the brim, you’re all fuckin mine.” cheol pants, snapping his hip harder into yours, the squeaky sounds from the leather of the vintage car’s seats and your skin-to-skin slapping intensifying “hnng,,can’t!” you wail, high crashing down as you tremble in his grip, sobs wracking your body as your cunt clenches down on his cock, white ring of cum thickening around the base of his cock as he rams into your pussy, swears profusely escaping his lips.
“so… fuck… going to breed you” cheol groans, gripping your waist tightly and painfully as his high hits shortly after, slamming his cock deep as hot cum fills you to the brim, warmth spreading as you wail with the overstimulation, so full already of his release, but you felt euphoric. “s’full….feels s’good” you whimpered
cheol chuckled at your fucked out state, “next time you need a ride, ride me instead, because cowboys ride harder and stay on longer.”
🛸•°.martin x reader, lowercase intended, not proofread•`.🛸
✶ tw: underage drinking | confessions ✶
🎶
you and martin had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. from getting scolded in middle school for sneaking snacks into the library to skipping class to sit on rooftops, trouble was almost a second language between you.
that’s why, when martin looked at you one evening with that mischievous grin, the one that always meant “don’t think, just follow me”, you already knew something reckless was about to happen.
“fake ids,” he said, lowering his voice like it was some criminal mastermind plan. “we’ll finally buy beer like real adults.”
you laughed so hard you almost choked. “martin, you’re, like, six foot three. no one’s going to believe you’re seventeen anyway.”
“exactly!” he grinned, shoving a clumsily laminated card in front of you. “this is art.”
it wasn’t. it was the ugliest id you’d ever seen, and yet—maybe because it was him—you agreed.
at the convenience store it felt like entering enemy territory. the neon buzzed overhead, the air smelled faintly of instant noodles and dust, and the guy at the counter gave you both the slow up-and-down that made your heart crawl into your throat. still, martin played it cool. too cool. he grabbed a six-pack, plopped it down, and flashed his “id” with a grin so cocky you almost burst into nervous laughter.
and somehow, somehow, the cashier shrugged, rang it up, and slid the bag across. victory.
until—
“wait.” the guy squinted, turning martin’s card sideways. “this says you were born in 1993. that makes you… thirty-two?”
martin froze. your blood turned to ice. then, without a word, he grabbed your hand, snatched the bag, and bolted out the door.
“hey!” the guy shouted behind you, but martin’s long legs carried you both halfway down the street in seconds, laughter and adrenaline spilling out of him like he’d just won a race.
“did you see his face?” martin wheezed, doubling over, still clutching the beers.
you smacked his arm. “we could’ve been arrested!”
“but we weren’t.” his smile widened. “which means… game night.”
back at his place, the two of you sat cross-legged on the floor, the six-pack between you, your cheeks already warm from both the run and the thrill.
“truth or dare?” he asked after your first drink, his eyes glinting with challenge.
“truth.”
he leaned forward. “have you ever thought about kissing me?”
you choked on your drink. “that’s not fair!”
“it’s a valid question,” he said, smug, though a faint pink crept into his ears.
you dodged. “dare.”
“fine. i dare you to… eat three chips at once with all the hot sauce in the fridge.”
the dares escalated into chaos—ketchup chasers, dumb dance moves, prank calls to random numbers—until you were both red-faced and dizzy, the room spinning slightly.
by the time your fourth round came around, you could barely keep the rules straight. martin leaned on his arm, eyes heavy-lidded, his laughter softer now, more genuine.
“truth or dare?” he mumbled.
you hiccupped, grinned sloppily. “truth.”
he paused, almost too long. “do you… like me? like, actually?”
the air went still. you hadn’t expected him to ask, not like this. not when your tongue was loose and your heart was pounding.
your lips trembled around the words, but the beer gave you courage. “i do. i’ve… i’ve liked you forever, martin. even when you were a dumb kid making me climb fences for no reason. even now. especially now.”
the silence that followed was unbearable. you stared at your shoes, wishing the floor would just swallow you whole.
then, suddenly, his hand found yours. big, warm, a little shaky.
“you’re so messy when you confess,” he whispered, laughing softly. “but… i like you too. always have.”
you looked up, meeting his eyes—wide, honest, and a little scared, just like yours. and then, in the middle of your dumb little drinking game, with empty bottles scattered and your cheeks flushed from more than alcohol, martin leaned in. and you didn’t stop him.
˚₊‧꒰ა 💙 ruby’s note ໒꒱‧₊:
i kinda fumbled at the end lmao, but here it is! First fic, enjoy and give me feedbacks 🙏💙
saturdays usually smelled like fresh laundry and late-night texts from a boy who didn‘t know your face. today it smelled like expensive cologne and the suffocating silence of jake’s bedroom. you just arrived and already felt guilt rushing through your blood system. you traded a wolf for a shark. (quite literally) you walked into the trap simply for the plot. ”we can study on the bed, i‘m sick of chairs.“ he said, plopping onto the mattress. ”uh, sure.“ you replied shyly, sitting cross legged at the edge of his bed.
”you‘re overthinking the covalent bonds again, y/n.“ he murmured, sighing out loud because of you doing the same mistake for the tenth time. your phone kept buzzing in your backpack, vibrating against the floor. “can‘t you turn it off? it‘s distracting.“ he chuckled. it felt awkward reaching for it with jake’s hand settled casually on the mattress just inches from your thigh. you took a deep breath, fished the phone out, and saw plenty messages of wolf, your mom and your friends spamming the group chat. you clicked the silent switch and shoved it back into your bag.
thirty minutes later and you were now laying in his bed, covering your face with his pillow: “if i hear the word 'electron' one more time i‘m actually throwing the book out of the window.“ jake chuckled, finding your reaction adorable. the mood thankfully eased up by now. before you could react, his hand was on the edge of the pillow, tugging it away from your face. ”stop being dramatic, y/n.“ he teased, his voice dropping an octave. you looked up and your breath hitched. he wasn’t sitting up anymore. he was laying on his elbow, hovering only inches above you. jake had a playful smirk on his face but you placed your palm on his chest to keep the inches between you. "my brain is officially fried and no amount of hovering is going to fix it." you said as you slightly pushed him back. he laughed while he flopped onto his back. "tough crowd. i thought i was being helpful.” he sighed, thinking of what to do. ”kitchen.“ jake simply demanded. you looked at him, visibly confused, trying to figure out what he was talking about. ”let’s get snacks. consider it a reward for not failing todays lesson. well, actually you did fail.“ he teasingly said, poking your side. ”oh blow me.“ you replied, rolling your eyes at him. ”well, if you‘re already offering.”
after scavenging through his kitchen looking for snacks, you found your way back to the bedroom. you placed them on the bedside table while he got comfortable, reaching for the remote. he kicked your chemistry book off the bed to make space. the sudden noise startled you and made you look at him. “oh, sorry-“ he looked at you, amused. ”i didn‘t know you wanted to keep studying.“ you gave him a 'be fr' look and moved the book to his desk.
”i‘m not watching that movie. let‘s watch something scarier.“ he said, holding the remote over his head as you tried to reach for it. “if you want something scary,” you panted, out of breath from fighting for the remote. “then you‘ll leave, blabla. this is the fifth time you‘re saying that.“ he finished your sentence for you. ”i thought you had better taste than this, y/n. first heeseung, now this weird movie.“ he purposely teased, waiting for your reaction. you managed to snatch the remote and awkwardly put your hair behind your ear, eyes focused on the tv. why does he have to mention heeseung?
half way through the movie jake suddenly grabbed the remote and turned off the tv. ”what? why?” you asked, your laugh sounding a little too airy and a little too forced even to your own ears. he didn't laugh back. he leaned on his elbow again, now facing you. ”because you‘re not actually watching it. you‘re just staring at the screen. i didn‘t invite you to do that.“ his eyes never leaving yours. “to be fair i thought the whole point was tutoring.“ you countered, “covalent bonds? remember?” you awkwardly joked. he sat up properly now, crossing his legs so he was facing you fully. “you‘ve been here for what, two hours now, and you don’t seem like you’ve relaxed at least once.“ you opened your mouth to argue, but he put his hand on your knee to shut you up. ”is it because of what i said? about heeseung?” he asked, his fingers slightly caressing your knee. “no.“ you whispered. it was partially a lie. it wasn't just heeseung. it was the fact that while jake was sitting here, smelling like the best perfume you‘ve ever smelt and looking at you like you were the best thing he has ever seen, your mind kept wandering toward your phone. “good.” he said, moving his hand from your knee to your thigh. “because he isn't here. you know, it just feels like you refuse to look at me for more than three seconds.” he slightly giggled, his eyes still not leaving yours. “well, i‘m looking at you now.“ you challenged, your heart screaming 'let me out!!' by the way it was beating. ”are you?“ he smirked, slightly licking his lower lip. ”you‘re so annoying.” you giggled, the words barely escaping your throat. you teasingly slapped his hand to get it off your thigh. instead of removing it, he simply moved it to the side of your neck. the guilt, the "plot” or whatever it was you were trying to do, it all blurred into the background. when he finally leaned in, his lips met yours. as the kiss deepened, as you felt his other hand pull you closer by your thigh, the regret hit you like a bucket of ice water. this wasn't wolf. this wasn't the boy who sent you sunset photos and told you his worries. this was jake. his fucking best friend. you pulled back, your chest heaving, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thick to breathe. his eyes were dark, a mix of triumph and confusion as he watched you scramble for your bag. “i’m sorry jake, i-i don’t think it’s the right thing to do.“ you stammered, not looking at him. “y/n? what happened?” you didn't reply. before you left his bedroom you looked at him one more time. ”thanks, for um, everything.“ as you were walking out, the air from outside felt like it was ripping apart your lungs.
[lunch time, y/n‘s pov]
monday lunch time felt like a fever dream. not the cute kind when you‘re at a concert, but the kind where you‘re naked in front of the whole class and for some reason your teacher is a giant hamster. “ugh, just look at him.“ gigi hissed, her eyes locked on yeonjun, who looked way to happy considering he just went through a breakup. “wish me luck!“ she winked at you, standing up and tossing her hair back like she was in a commercial. she marched toward his table while you all watched, so focused you forgot to breathe. she didn't even say hi. she just slid into the seat next to him and leaned super close. yeonjun looked confused for like two seconds before he smirked and wrapped his arm around her, leaning back like he’d been waiting for her all day. damn it, is everyone at this school a man-whore? gigi was yapping so fast her mouth was a blur, probably telling him some random story to keep his attention. meanwhile, your own life was decomposing. you felt a shadow fall over the table and you didn't even have to look up to know it was jake. he didn't even ask to sit. does no one just.. ask anymore? he just squeezed in next to you, his thigh pressing against yours like saturday never happened. yunjin accidentally choked on her water at the sight of him. ”hey pretty.“ he softly said. you tried to look busy with your salad and only gave him an awkward smile. he just looked at you from the side, resting his chin on his hand, waiting. you knew his friends were watching from their usual table. you could feel their eyes burning into your back and you wanted to evaporate. ”look jake,“ you sighed, finally turning toward him. ”i told you. saturday was a mistake. a big mistake.“ instead of giving up, he just laughed. the type of laugh that usually makes girls melt, but right now it just made you want to jump into a trash can. “you don't know me well enough if you think i take no for an answer, y/n. library today, 'kay? be there or i‘ll find you in the middle of class.“ he stood up, casually squeezing your cheek before walking away. you looked at rei, hoping for some kind of backup but she was useless. she was too busy recording gigi and yeonjun. suddenly, there was a loud crash. giselle accidentally knocked yeonjun’s entire tray into his lap. he was covered in spaghetti and mystery sauce. the whole cafeteria went dead silent until suddenly yeonjun‘s ex-girlfriend let out a loud laugh. it was a chain reaction. the whole room was roaring. gigi froze. she panicked, grabbing napkins and frantically trying to help him clean up. ”s-sorry, i didn‘t mean to.” she stammered. he just giggled, looking down at the mess and placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. ”it‘s fine, gigi, reall-” ”gigi, stop touching his crouch!“ yunjin yelled across the room. you dropped your head onto the table, shaking with laughter. too much was happening. ”fuck yes i got it all on cam.“ rei celebrated.
[library after school, y/n‘s pov]
as wished, you were sitting in the library, in the usual spot you and jake sit in. you had a pounding headache and definitely didn‘t want to be there. jake on the other hand genuinely looked like he was having the time of his life. acting all smart probably fed his ego. the lessons were fun, they did help after all but lately you couldn‘t focus to save your life. he was sitting next to you, explaining something with his hands. your elbow was on the table, your chin resting on your hand. your gaze kept shifting to your phone, which was laying right next to your notebook. he stopped for a second, his sentence trailing off as he looked around to find his backpack. it was laying on the floor, leaning against your chair. ”hey, could you give me the book in my backpack?“ he asked nicely, pointing toward the floor. you hummed in response and leaned down to reach for the heavy bag. just as your fingers brushed the zipper, your screen had lit up. you didn‘t notice and even if it lit up, what about it?
[🐺: lol]
[🐺: did u see the spaghetti incident]
[🐺: wait i hope texting less didn‘t mean not texting at all]
[🐺: right?]
“wha-” he mumbled. he stayed frozen, staring at your screen. you slowly sat back up, placing the book on the table and looking at him. ”you good?“ your raised your eyebrow. everything started to make sense in his head. heeseung had been obsessed with this cloud girl for weeks. heeseung clearly was wolf. and you... you were cloud. does she know it’s him? does he know? nah, if he’d know i’d know. if she knows, is she using me? it wasn't even that he cared you might have been using him to get at heeseung. and kissing you…he didn‘t regret that. he'd do it again. it was the fact he accidentally fucked up by kissing you just for it to turn out that you‘re the other person heeseung cared about as well. like, double-fucked up. how could he go to bed without telling heeseung what he just found out. maybe it’s a coincidence? many people use this app, right? he can‘t be the only one with the wolf emoji, he thought. ”y/n...“ he whispered, his voice still airy but he was holding in an awkward chuckle. ”i think you were right. about saturday.“ his sudden change of motive surprised you. “why so?“ you exhaled. thank god. before you could even blink, jake stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. as he was packing his stuff he was avoiding your eyes. he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “y/n, you‘re cooler than i thought. and fuck, you‘re hot too but,“ he stopped for a second, trying to think of what to say. ”dunno, this just really was a mistake. if you actually need help with chem just text me, but for now uh..“ he ran out of words. you gave him a soft smile. “it’s fine jake. thanks. see you around.“ you waved at him while he walked away. this might have been the best day of your week. jake turned around to face you one more time: ”don’t let the wolves bite you!“ his own words making himself giggle. don’t let the wolves bite you? you were putting one and one together and looked around. then, you looked at your phone when you saw wolf‘s messages. ”shit.“
Synopsis. Every day, Jeno wakes up to the same sounds, the same sunrise, the same gunshots. At first, he thought it was déjà vu. Then he thought it was a curse. Now he knows — it's you. And if you die, the world resets. The problem is… he’s the only one who remembers. He does everything he can to save you, but some days, love isn’t enough.
He worked three different part-time jobs, mostly at night.
He slept during the day, and under no circumstance did he like to be disturbed before 5 p.m.
With the kind of money he made juggling all those shifts, people assumed he’d move out of his cramped one-bedroom apartment and into a nicer, quieter part of town. But not Jeno. He wasn’t about to pay extra for peace when his current neighborhood came with its own kind of… built-in security. Criminals didn’t target this area, mostly because the people living here were the criminals.
Which meant that for the low, low price of sanity and decent sleep, Jeno got to live rent-cheap in a place where chaos kept itself in check.
Until it didn’t.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Gunshots.
Jeno bolts upright in bed like someone yanked his soul back from the afterlife. Three gunshots. He definitely heard gunshots. He stares at the ceiling, pulse racing. For a second, he wonders if he’s dreaming, but no, he’s wide awake and someone just fired three shots above him.
“What the hell?!” he grumbles while rubbing his eyes and peering at the clock on the wall. 10 a.m. His heart still doing parkour inside his chest.
For a second, he just sits there, frozen in place, staring at the ceiling like it's going to bleed. He throws off the blanket, padding to the window like he’s expecting to see a burning building, he throws the window open.
Instead outside, he sees a guy jogging with headphones. A bird lands on a power line. The neighbor’s dog poops on the sidewalk. Calm as anything. Mailman doing his rounds. Wind gently nudging the leaves. A guy across the street doing yoga in a tragic tank top.
Life continues, totally unbothered. He rubs his face, deadpan. “Okay. Either that was real or I’m losing my mind.”
He hears footsteps above. Then laughter.
Jeno storms into the hallway in pajama pants and slides open the window near the stairwell. “Mark!”
A head pokes out from the upstairs balcony. Sunglasses. Shirtless. Holding a literal smoking pistol. “Yo.”
“Did you just shoot your ceiling?” Jeno's attention moving all over the room to find any holes and proof that Mark used that pistol in his hands.
“Not at it. Into it.” Mark grins, and then rolls his eyes when Jeno doesn't budge from the door. “Relax,” Mark says, twirling the pistol like he’s in an old western movie. “Blanks. Keeps the upstairs ghosts humble.”
“There’s no one above you!” Jeno irks, being annoyed that he was awakened because his neighbor Mark was high again.
Mark points at the sky. “That’s what they want you to think.”
Jeno stares, blinking. “You need a therapist.”
Mark shrugs. “Therapist ghost. Same thing.”
Jeno ignores the deluded neighbor and heads back grabbing his blanket on the floor and scrambling underneath it on his bed. Then, right on cue, his phone buzzes on his nightstand. He grunts and ignores his.
But the phone buzzes again. Only his hand gets out to retrieve the phone on the nightstand. Sliding it underneath the covers - with his eyes closed he switches it on and turns the brightness down before he can open his eyes.
Unknown Number. But it’s not unknown. Not really. Jeno knows the name behind it. He always does.
Jeno sighs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Instead of typing Jeno opts to speak and allows his phone to create text. “This better be a couch and a folding chair. I’m not doing another piano situation.”
Chenle text back: Bro plzzzz - I'm bedridden and sick. Fine $100
Jeno texts back: Sure. Send me the address.
Jeno caves in. He always does… for more money.
So after getting ready in a black buttoned down shirt and black jeans, he heads off to Chenle's workspace - a moving service company. Since he's done this before, Chenle's manager doesn't even bat an eye when Jeno punches in Chenle's locker code. Jeno grabs Chenle's truck keys and contract flip file that the client as well as moving company had to sign.
On the road, Jeno uses his own GPS to navigate and drive through the bright afternoon. The drive is long, the area worth sight seeing. Tall palm trees, fresh grass worth millions on insurance, and houses humongous with so much land for no reason. By the time he arrives to the address that Chenle gave, it's 12 p.m. If he can finish this fast, he can quickly go back home and get in a quick nap.
So he drives up the paved driveway - shows certificate and receipt to the gate man who presses a button and a gate opens allowing Jeno to drive inside -
"It's not gonna work Chenle," Jeno finds himself snorting a little laugh as he thinks of Chenle - and how persistent the dude is to get Jeno to move out of his apartment. Whenever Chenle was 'sick' and asked for Jeno's help it was always to show Jeno that he should consider getting a good house. At first Jeno thought that he was really helping out - until he noticed the trend in houses and spots.
The moving truck rolls to a gentle stop at the edge of a grand, circular driveway, which is wide enough to host a dozen luxury cars and still leave room for a ballroom dance. At its center, a towering fountain commands attention: three angels carved from ivory stone, arms stretched out, pouring streams of crystal-clear water from their urns into a stone ivory basin below. The fountain’s soft, rhythmic splash echoes faintly against the open air, giving the place an eerie kind of serenity.
At the end of the roundabout, a grand staircase leads up to the main entrance, two tall French doors, framed by thick pillars and shaded by the house’s clean, elegant lines. The exterior is a smooth mix of white, soft black, and creamy brown, polished but not flashy.
Everything looks perfectly trimmed, perfectly placed like a house that doesn’t just look expensive, it knows it is.
Jeno parks on the side, not wanting to park near the cherry-red Ferrari that is parked right at the bottom of the staircase, gleaming like it knows it doesn’t belong near moving boxes. And not looking to get in trouble while filling in for Chenle, Jeno parks a distance away.
He gets out the large truck moving to the back opening it up and preparing to fill up the empty storage. He gets the black gloves on, and wonders if he should wear the moving jumpers attire… He decides against it. He just knows and has a feeling he'll be here for a while. Curtesy to Chenle. Jeno climbs up the stairs and knocks three times on the door - before he realizes there's actually a bell.
He presses it and waits. A minute later the door is pulled open, a man with slick black hair and a silk white robe stands before Jeno. "Hi-"
"Ah! You must be Chenle - wasn't expecting you till 3 p.m. in the afternoon, step in." The posh and soft spoken man moves aside, allowing room for Jeno to walk in. He's only 'Chenle' for a few hours. "I'm Jaemin, I called for relocation services. I already got the maids to pack the things you'll be carrying, so you don't have to worry about moving around the house- that's already taken care off. All you'll do is carry the boxes to your truck. I thought they'd be two of you."
Jeno stiffly smiles at the man. "I'm a special kind."
"Hm. Interesting." Jaemin folds his arm with a smile. "You can get started, it should take about an hour and a half. She's got so much shit." Jaemin mutters the last part more to himself. "When you're done, I'm sure the lady of the house will be back, from there you can take her wherever she pleases."
"Who's going to sign the bill of lading?"
"Y/n. The lady of the house. She stepped out early this morning, but she will be back. Don't worry. And if she starts something, complaining or nagging, ignore her and keep working until that truck has all her things."
It's an odd set of sentences, but Jeno doesn't prey on the drama, he simply nods and gets started with the first box when Jaemin walks away. A lady in the typical maid outfit quickly walks ahead of Jeno opening the second door in order for Jeno to have more room.
Jaemin is nowhere in sight after Jeno has lifted up a fair amount of boxes outside. Different shapes and sizes out, Jeno's muscles work hard to secure the boxes in his grip before carefully placing them on the ground outside near his truck. Just when he thinks he's almost done, different bunch of maids walk up and down the stairs, in and out different doors bringing out more boxes. He gets his earphones out and dials down the silence to turn up on the heavy rock music, to give him some energy. Nearly half an hour passes, when Jaemin, in a modest well tailored suit finally leaves the house in his cherry-red Ferrari and drives off.
Jeno finds that he's almost done in the house when there's a large stack of boxes near the truck. Once he's done with the last box he walks out the front door shutting it with the help of a maid. He then heads near the truck and begins the next phase of getting them to fit all inside the wide truck. It's time consuming, but the workout track blasting in his ears, he ignores the ache of his muscles and carries on working.
Not expecting anybody to be outside with him, he gets shocked when he violently gets shoved forward. His upper body budges causing him to hastily remove his earphone - a petite lady in a white knee dress angrily glares at him. You must be the lady of the house. The one Jaemin mentioned. Otherwise with what other authority did you have to push him?
"What the hell are you doing with my stuff?" you shriek.
Jeno picks up another box and places it inside the truck, not wanting to slow down on his fast momentum. "Look lady, I'm just filling in for my friend because he's sick."
"What does that have to do with you moving my things?"
"Somebody named Jaemin rented this truck and asked me to fill it up. By your reaction I'm assuming these are your things." Jeno gets in the truck and begins organizing the stuff.
"Wait." You hold your finger up, burning wholes at him. "Don't move another thing." With that you stomp your way back in your black jaguar and drive just a few seconds to the stairs and park. Jeno from the truck furrows his brows and watches you climb the steps with rage. Once you bang the door shut- Jeno carries on working not minding you as Jaemin previously suggested. He needs to finish so that he can get back home and sleep. It's nearly 3 p.m and he doesn't want to be here any longer.
By the time he's finished loading, managing and securing all the boxes of your belongings in the truck - he removes the gloves dumping them in before locking the back properly. Getting out the contract clipboard Jeno goes back to the house. Pressing the bell, it's not long before a maid opens up the door with a smile. "Can I get a signature from the lady of the house?"
"Oh yes. Follow me." Jeno follows behind the maid, who blabbers on about how Jaemin got you new designer clothes, shoes, bags etc., reasons why he packed up all your old things. Jeno doesn't care, he just wants to get your signature and leave. And from what Jaemin said, Jeno must leave with you so that you can tell him where to go and leave all the boxes.
He waits up the spiraling stair case as instructed. The second floor opens into a gallery-like hallway, bathed in soft, natural light that pours in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The marble beneath his shoes gleam with a mirror finish, reflecting the chandelier’s scattered gold accents overhead.
But what truly steals the space is the massive clock which is impossible to miss. Mounted against an empty wall at the far end of the hall, it ticks with deliberate grace. Its hands being actual wooden hands, sweeping across over number as if time itself were a luxury only the rich could afford.
Everything is quiet. Too quiet. Like the house is waiting for something. Or someone. It’s not long before you appear that Jeno chants out an appreciation prayer in his head. He already visualizes his head and how he'd sleep. You're gliding around the corner in a long red dress, which hugs your figure well, a silky scarf draped elegantly over your chest and neck. You look like you belong in a painting.
Jeno snaps himself out of it, and quickly holds out the clipboard when you stand a few feet in front of him. "Just need a signature." he says politely.
You fold your arms and shrug. "To be honest with you, I didn't even know that my husband was going to do this. I have no idea where he expects my old stuff to go. Why don't you wait for him in your truck and when he comes he'll direct you."
Jeno's brows furrow. "I'm sorry but I can't wait any longer, I do have another job I have to be in-"
"That's not my problem." you deadpan. "When he was making arrangements with you, I wasn't there. You doing this job is between you and him."
"But it's your stuff in the truck." Jeno stretches his hand back towards the door.
"Then you can wait for my husband," You shrug again. "Or you can take it wherever you want to take it, because I'm not going to sign anything that I wasn't a part of."
Jeno's eyes can only narrow in disbelief. He's actually stunned, and stands there for a while - you turn around telling him he knows where the door is. Grumpily he leaves the house and phone's Chenle.
"Yho dude, can you call your client and tell him his wife is being incorporative?"
"What happened?"
Jeno thought that Chenle was bluffing when he said he was sick, but from the voice over the line that's filled with so much raspy coughs, sickness at it's finest - Jeno knows it's real. He begins to explain the situation from how he arrived early all the way to being told to wait in his car.
"Man, I wish I was there." Chenle snickers weakly. "I live for drama like that. I'll call my boss to speak to the client and then hopefully I'll get back to you with good news."
The good news call doesn't arrive as quick as Jeno had hoped. He watches the maids leave for the evening some passing him adieu. The sun even sets and before Jeno knows it, he's getting a call from his nightshift job.
"Haechan, please cover for me." Jeno grumbles, clearly upset at everything that has happened. "I'm stuck. I don't know for how long."
"Jaehyun isn't coming tonight, so you're off the hook. But you really do have to come in tonight, there's a huge oil spill. We're all stuck on cleaning duty. Please don't leave me to do our section alone."
"I'll try my best to come in as quick as I can."
Jeno cuts the call and then steps out the truck hoping to try again with you, however he thanks the heaven the moment he spots the familiar cherry-red Ferrari pull up. Jaemin rolls the windows down as he gets closer to Jeno, a confused look on his face. "You're still here?"
"I'm finding it hard to get a signature out of the lady of the house-"
"Ay, ay, language." Jaemin furrows his brows. "She's no longer the lady of the house."
"She doesn't want to sign." Jeno refrains from rolling his eyes, but clearly adds why he's still the mansion.
"I'll get her out. Just wait for here." Jaemin ends up saying, his face tightening. "Here, let me sign that for you."
"Thank you." Jeno gets the clipboard handing it to Jaemin. He doesn't even pay attention to how Jaemin's tone dropped when speaking about you and how you're no longer the 'lady of the house'. Jaemin drives up to the stairs, and steps out. The black suit holding him well even under the glaze of the moonlight. He goes around and opens up the passenger door holding his hand out…
Another woman steps out, long hair, short black dress. Jeno can't see the face, but he knows it's an attractive woman, simply because of how Jaemin's eyes glisten with radiance. Jeno's eyes widen unintentionally, knowing he just stepped right into Chenle's favorite drama, a cheating scandal. He shakes his head and goes back to waiting in the truck. He watches how Jaemin enters the house first… and then after a minute, the other woman enters.
Jeno waits. Some minutes go by.
He sighs. Is he really going to be here for another hour? Drumming his fingers against the wheel and taking his phone to call Chenle — he's broken out of his nonchalant thoughts when hearing a faded in cry and argument arising.
His head snaps up - straight to the front French doors. His jaw being parted slightly… by the escalation of voices coming from Jaemin and you- there's a fight going on. You're screaming, yelling and fighting holding onto the door - but Jaemin man-handles you grabbing your hair and clothes pulling you out.
"Oh, no. Not like that man." Jeno steps out the vehicle- yet with a violent push - you're thrown out of the house, and Jeno can only watch being speechless.
You snap on the floor but then paddle on your knees in a breathless moaning mess towards Jaemin's feet, begging and holding his legs. You're panting yelling out nonverbal words- Jaemin throws off a heel shoe into the distance and then kicks you away from him, only for you crawl back and have the door slammed to your face.
"Jaemin!" You yearn out, a pitch reflecting agony as you cry. You bang on the door - "Jaemin please!"
Jeno doesn't move. Too surprised to act.
It's only after a while do you stop beating at the door with your fist, body sinking into a ball, obviously crying. It's embarrassing A few more minutes, you sit up… crawl on your knees, getting down some steps to retrieve your shoe. You look so helpless when trying to wear your shoe, hands shaking, your trembling breath audible for Jeno to hear. His phone vibrates in his hand, indicating an incoming call. Chenle… but Jeno doesn't answer, his eyes move back to you.
"What the hell did they get me into?"
He sucks in his breath, clearly upset, feeling bad to have witnessed such a devasting thing act of cruelty in relationship. His best guess is that the man Jaemin kicked her and all her stuff out of his house, to make room for his new side chick. Jeno never really cares for drama, he always avoided it. But now getting closer to you, Jeno hears your whimpers and little hiccups, he knows he's already involved in this drama. Chenle would need to pay him extra.
You glance up feeling someone approach you. The view of the man and his stupid truck has you shifting uncomfortable as you sniff, trying to wrap the scarf around you, and adjusting your dress to look dignified. Your hair is messy and out of the bun - your clothes look like they had been tugged at, but that's not your concern.
Jeno pauses when he hears you let out a sad chuckle. "That's why he hired a moving truck.." your broken whisper, forces Jeno's words to disappear.
But he regains his composure when you get up, by yourself and sniff, walking down the stairs. The back of his head is itchy, he scratches it following behind you. He tries to help you up in the truck, but you're so stiff and rigid and angry that he can't even approach to help.
He gets in the truck, doesn't say anything when you keep crying lowly and whimpering. Once the engine starts, he's off riding into the night trying to get off the residents area just in case you don't want to be anywhere here. However you don't speak, you don't tell him to turn right or left. When he peeks at you from time to time, you're adjusting yourself to face out the window as you rub your face, wiping your tears, wrapping the red silk scarf around your body.
"Hey look," Jeno starts in a somber tone. "We've been, driving around for an hour. I do have another job which I'm supposed to be at right now, so there's gotta be some place I can take you." he peeks in your direction.
You're a puffy red eye mess with your hair unkempt as you hold onto your chest - Jeno gets blinded by the huge diamond rock ring on your finger. You look at him and chortle sarcastically. "Take me where?" you're breathless. "Take me where? He has alienated me from my entire family. He made me put my dad in a retard home, because…" you wipe your eyes. "Because he didn't fit his Korean chaebol lifestyle dream. I don't even have money in my own account - I didn't bring my phone - he…"
You breathe out again, the tears threatening to spill out. Jeno looks away focusing on the empty road with the streets only lit up lamps or closed LED signs on shops.
"I don't have anywhere else to go." you breakdown.
Jeno sighs. "Okay lady, I'm really sorry to hear about that. But it's the middle of the night and we're riding around in circles-"
"Stop the truck." he doesn't notice how you ball your fists and clutch your jaw.
"I'm not-"
"Just stop the truck!" you yell and glare at him.
Jeno looks baffled. "I'm not stopping the truck-"
"All you men are just alike- you just think of yourself- you don't think about anybody else but yourself-" Jeno shifts uncomfortably as your temper and aggravated cry manifest and you begin hitting him. "Just stop the truck and I'll drive myself!"
He's about to reject - yet you fiercely begin to grab the wheel - causing the car to swerve- and Jeno immediately curses and stops. "Okay - okay I'm stopping,"
"Get out!"
"We're in the middle of nowhere-"
"I don't care- get out of the car and I'll drive myself-" while Jeno tries to open the truck door - you're pushing and punching him to get out.
Jeno can't even react as he gets out and looks at you with disbelief. "You know what, now I see why you're going through what you're going through,"
"Go to hell." You slam the truck door shut. You adjust yourself in the seat and start the car.
"Have a nice life."
"I will. Thank you very much." you let out bitterly, the truck screeches and speeds off. "Fuck." Jeno looks at the clock, it's around 10 p.m.
He turns left and right, but the streets are empty. He brings out his phone ordering a ride. By the time the ride comes, Jeno phones Chenle. "Your crazy client's ex wife-"
"Ex wife?" Chenle sounds like he's leaning in for the tea.
"Yeah he kicked her out the house. Literally." Jeno grumbles. "Man listen, she hijacked your truck."
"Oh no. Jeno please tell me you're lying." there's a bit of a shift in Chenle's voice, for Jeno to realize that he's no longer 'leaning in for tea' but sitting up right being upset. "Jeno please tell me you're gonna get it back? Otherwise that shit's gonna come out of my paycheck for 6 months! I don't have enough money like you-"
"Okay calm down dude, I'm gonna get get. Tomorrow. For now, you owe me big time."
Once Jeno is home, he begins to scramble and put on his uniform before driving himself to work. Unfortunately for him, his boss who arrived moments before gives him his first verbal warning. Jeno works with a clouded head, full of anger, but it fades away when around 4 a.m. he clocks out and heads home. Once his head hits the pillow, he's out cold from the crazy day.
-
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Gunshots again.
Jeno blinks up at the plaster above his bed, groaning into his pillow. "Mark’s doing target practice with the ceiling again," he mutters and drags his body out of bed, and immediately stubs his toe on his desk chair. “Ow! Okay. Good morning to me.”
Jeno storms into the hallway in pajama pants and slides open the window near the stairwell.
"Mark!"
A head pokes out from the upstairs balcony. Sunglasses. Shirtless. Holding a literal smoking pistol. Mark. "Yo."
"Did you just shoot your ceiling again?" Jeno's eyes bleeding with irritation.
“Again?” Mark grins, and then rolls his eyes when Jeno doesn't budge from the door. “Relax,” Mark says, twirling the pistol like he’s in an old western movie. “Blanks. Keeps the upstairs ghosts humble.”
“For the last time, there’s no one above you!” Jeno irks and slams the door going back to his bed.
Then, right on cue, his phone buzzes on his nightstand. He grunts and grabs his phone looking at the text message.
This time instead of replying by text he phones Chenle. "What the hell man? Didn't you already send me on a quest yesterday and I screwed it up? Now you want me to do another?"
"Uhm…" Chenle awkwardly coughs. "What are you on about?"
"Yesterday." Jeno grumbles running his hand through his hair. "I got your truck lost remember?"
"No."
"You nagged that I get it back before it comes out of your paycheck. Remember?"
"Fam, I'm sick and I have no memory of phoning you yesterday, and my truck is still at base." Chenle whines, his voice rising in confusion. "Just say if you wanna help or not- I'll get somebody else to do it."
Jeno pauses for a deep minute. He moves to the window, head tilting when he sees a guy jogging with headphones. A bird lands on a power line. The neighbor’s dog poops on the sidewalk. Calm as anything. Mailman doing his rounds. Wind gently nudging the leaves. A guy across the street doing yoga in a tragic tank top.
Life continues, totally unbothered. He rubs his face, when he looks at his phone and sees the date and time. 23 August…. “Okay. Either that was real or I’m losing my mind.”
"I think you're losing your mind. Or you didn't get enough sleep." Chenle grunts out. "Are you gonna help out or not?"
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Jeno sighs. "I'm sorry Chenle, just some weird… dream I had. Send the address I'll get ready."
"Thanks Jeno, for that I'll bop it up to $100."
Once the call cuts, Jeno shakes his head, realizing he mixed up the days. Or he could've had a deja Vu dream. He gets ready, and put on a black buttoned shirt and pants. Heads to Chenle's work place and passes by the manager who shakes his head.
Jeno feels a weird sense of deja-vu once he gets in his track and already recognizes the way in which he's going on. It's just like the dream he had. However when he notes that mansion and the security guard all the same - he's left even more perplexed and confused.
"Hi-" Jeno instantly stops after the door is pulled open and a dashing man- no that's Jaemin!
"Ah! You must be Chenle - wasn't expecting you till 3 in the afternoon, step in." Jeno walks in with hesitancy. "You're a little nervous, don't worry. I'm Jaemin, I called for relocation services. I already got the maids to pack the things you'll be carrying, so you don't have to worry about moving around the house- that's already taken care off. All you'll do is carry the boxes to your truck. I thought they'd be two of you."
Jeno stiffly smiles at the man. He did this before… deja-vu. "I'm different."
"Hm. Interesting." Jaemin folds his arm with a smile. "You can get started, it should take about an hour and a half. She's got so much shit." Jaemin mutters the last part more to himself- but Jeno can't wrap his head around how everything feels so familiar. "When you're done, I'm sure the lady of the house will be back, from there you can take her wherever she pleases."
"Who's going to sign the bill of lading?" Jeno asks.
"Y/n. The lady of the house. She stepped out early this morning, but she will be back. Don't worry-" Jaemin keeps talking but Jeno zones out when he hears your name….
"Wait I'm sorry. Did you just say Y/n?"
Jaemin nods. "Yep. Look I'd love to chat, but I've got an important day ahead of me. Keep working until that truck has all her things." Jaemin pats Jeno's back and goes away.
Jeno can only breathe out. Feeling so strange because in his dream… he lived this.
Nonetheless, the work still needs to be done. He works - this time he doesn't put on any earphones, because he anticipates that you'll push him and arrive. No sooner then later, Jaemin drives off. Jeno doesn't remember when you'll come, but he does remember what you do.
To his surprise, he hears a car pulling up behind him. He's sorta freaked when you look the same, angry, and rushing to the boxes. You open one box and take a peak inside before looking at him. "Excuse me, where are you taking my things?"
"Uh-" Jeno's confused that you don't push him… Maybe it's because in his dream he had earphones so he couldn't hear you pull up… Jeno quickly answers sensing that he zoned out. "Jaemin called for relocation services. I'm supposed to pack all these up and-"
"Bullshit. Don't you dare move another box." With that you get back in your car and drive to the stairs. Jeno's surprised that even your car is the same. He doesn't move the boxes as you say and he waits…
Maybe it wasn't deja-vu, and today is a new and fresh day. If he doesn't get these boxes moving, he's going to be late for work in the night.
By the time Jeno finishes packing the boxes, he anticipates whether or not to go inside. After much hesitancy he goes inside the house, and doesn't wait for a maid. Recalling the steps as according to his memory, he goes up the stairs and moves further into a hall -
"Excuse me. How'd you get in?" You're hunched over tying your heels shoelace over your leg.
"Look, I'm done packing the boxes and I just need your signature."
You huff sarcastically. "You're quite rude. Barging in as if you own this place. Get out,"
"I just need this signed and then I'll be out of your hair." Jeno stresses.
You get up, Jeno notices that you don't have the silk red scarf, instead it's on the dresser behind you. You fold your arms, your boobs pressing out. "To be honest with you, I didn't even know that my husband was going to do this. I have no idea where he expects my old stuff to go. Why don't you wait for him in your truck and when he comes he'll direct you."
Jeno's brows furrow- "I'm sorry but I can't wait any longer, I do have another job I have to be in-"
"That's not my problem." you deadpan. "When he was making arrangements with you, I wasn't there. You doing this job is between you and him."
"But it's your stuff in the truck." Jeno adds, recalling the dream.
"You can wait for my husband," You shrug again. "Or you can take it wherever you want to take it, because I'm not going to sign anything that I wasn't a part of."
Jeno tilts his head. "Okay, so I can take these things wherever I want."
"Do what you want." you shrug.
Jeno turns, about to go, until he pauses. "I need a signature though,"
"I'm not signing anything. He called you, he'll sign it." You ignore him and turn around taking a seat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got an anniversary gift to prepare."
Jeno shakes his head, but leaves nonetheless. If his dream is anything like reality, he doesn't want to be here when Jaemin throws you out the house. He forges a signature and pulls out with the truck, going down the paved path towards the gate with your belongings in the truck.
For some reason, he feels relaxed once the senses of deja Vu happens. He drives out following the road back to Chenle's workspace. He informs the manager that the client lady stated that they can do whatever they want with the contents in the truck.
"Rich people." The manager shakes his head. "Hey Jeno, step in my office real quick."
Jeno internally sighs. All he wants to do is go back home and sleep to prepare for his nightshift. Stepping in the office, Jeno moves towards the manager, who opens up a box.
"I never thought I'd say this, but your constant help with Chenle has really been recognized. Some of our best clients who live uphill, admired your quick and effortless movements," The manager states, as Jeno watches the manager fill up an envelop with money. "It's my understanding, according to Chenle that you work nightshifts, I don't know how much you get paid, but I want you to come work for us."
Jeno's eyes widen when the manager hands him the envelope.
"Don't worry, I'm not firing your friend." The manager laughs. "I'd like for you to work here. Your drive and work ethic, especially with uphill clients is really good."
"Uphill?" Jeno is puzzled but still takes the envelope.
"Oh you know, all those times you filled in for Chenle, you actually went to the rich side of town to do his job. Let's just say the uphill clients, loved that you were broad, focused and fast. They actually like that you're a one man team." The manager taps Jeno's back. "Just think about it. Anyway, the envelope is just an appreciation amount. For all your help. Here's my card, I'll be expecting your call tomorrow."
Jeno takes the card in his hands. "What would the pay be?" One thing about Jeno, he wasn't afraid to talk salary. So after a hafty conversation with the manager, Jeno nods and leaves. Already considering dropping one of the late night shifts he has.
Obviously he'd leave the one where he was paid less, unfortunately that one had a good friend, Haechan.
He goes by to a food court, ordering and enjoying the afternoon. He texts Chenle telling Chenle that he's completed the task, before moving over to texting Haechan and informing his pal that he'll no longer be working there.
Of course that makes Haechan immediately call him. "What do you mean you're dropping The Recycling Factory?"
"I got a better offer. Day job. One that doesn't allow me to sleep through the day and actually enjoy my night sleeps." Jeno speaks.
"Jeno you can't leave." Haechan fakes a cry. "I'll be alone here,"
"I'm sorry man. This job's pay is way better then what I make there at the factory."
After a little banter between Jeno and Haechan, he cuts the call parting on good terms, before calling his boss Jaehyun to inform him of the decision.
For some reason, Jeno feels so relived and relaxed as if something heavy has finally been lifted off his shoulders. "I can finally sleep early and on time."
After a long and heavy relaxing day at the mall, and getting some medication for Chenle and spending some time with Chenle, Jeno is home and plops on the bed. The time, 11 p.m.
He closes his eyes and slowly begins drifting off to sleep with the joy that tomorrow he'll start a new chapter in his life, you pop up in his head for a minute and he wonders if really Jaemin kicked you out the house.
-
Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.
Jeno wakes up with a jolt.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
He knows it's Mark.
Jumping from his bed to the window - he catches sight of the familiar mailman, dog, crop top yoga man- and his eyes are wide open. He also realizes that he's in his pajama pants alone - and that's something he didn't fall asleep with last night. He runs up the stairs going to the balcony finding Mark.
"You shot the bullets!"
Mark who appeared laid back, holds his hands up as soon as Jeno grabs him. "Yo man chill! Chill! It's blanks-"
"I know it's blanks you idiot!" Jeno shoves him back and runs back to his apartment.
Just in time his phone vibrates. Seeing that it's Chenle and he's asking for a moving favour causes Jeno to flung his phone out the window in sheer fear and paranoia. It's Thursday again!
"No-no-no-no" Jeno hurries to get his clothes on driving to Chenle's apartment, which was on the other side of town.
"CHENLE I'M NOT CRAZY!"
Jeno storms inside of Chenle's house - once Chenle weakly opens the door.
"Woah- what's going on?"
"Man something is wrong with me!"
"What? What's wrong?"
"I already lived this day- twice! Today it's repeating itself." Jeno walks back and forth- hands grabbing his hair- Chenle shuts the door and follows Jeno who's talking crazy. "Tell me you also realize that-"
"I don't- I don't realize - I don't know what you're talking about - man I'm-"
"Sick!" Jeno snaps and points to Chenle. "I know you're sick!"
Chenle holds his hands out to Jeno's shoulders. "Okay, thanks for knowing that and informing me. Yho what happened to your phone-" Chenle asks when Jeno shows him the cracked screen.
"That's not important - I threw it out the window but got it back, look at the date!" Jeno grabs Chenle's face - glaring into his eyes. "I already lived this day. I know I did. It's been Thursday three times now!"
"Jeno?"
Jeno breaks into a scary laugh moving away from Chenle, panicking back and forth. "Otherwise I'm insane and the whole world has amnesia!" Jeno shakes his head, scratching his head. Another thing about him, is that he hated routine work. He liked living his life without feeling like it was on loop. Everyday had to be different.
"Jeno you are going crazy. This isn't like you. It's freaking me out man. Chill." Chenle smacks Jeno's chest, looking baffled with the urge to laugh.
"I can't chill. I lived this before!"
"Did you smoke with your neighbor?" Chenle ends up chuckling.
"No! That's the thing - I thought I was crazy - but then it's not a coincidence that this is still Thursday-"
"Maybe it is."
"No! The day before yesterday was Thursday. I woke up to gunshots! You sent a message. I did your job, went to the rich man's house, packed boxes, his wife refusing to sign and I waited outside. He kicked her out, I drove around with her until she hijacked your car. I ended up going to work late and then went home and slept. But YESTERDAY!"
"Jeno calm down-"
"Yesterday I woke up to gunshots again, Mark. You sent your message. I did your job- but this time I didn't wait for the signature from the wife. I took the truck and went back to your work place. Your manager offered me a job and some money-" Jeno's eyes widen just as Chenle freaks out. "Don't worry he wasn't firing you, just wanted me to work there since I impressed the uphill people. I quite one of my late night job. Got you medication, spent some time with you and went back home and slept. But then TODAY! I woke up to gunshots. You sent your message and now I'm here."
There's a whole moment of silence, as Chenle stares at Jeno with his mouth wide open. "Man I'm too weak for this. Is this a prank-"
"I'll punch you in the face - and then you'll see. Tomorrow - or today will repeat itself and you won't remember a thing."
"Jeno you're not gonna- OW!" Chenle drops to the floor after one punch from Jeno. Chenle cowers and tries to protect himself backing away in pain of being punched straight in the face- feeling terrified that Jeno did such a thing. "Are you fucking crazy!?"
"I'm not crazy! I know I sound insane- but i can prove it!" Jeno moves back- not the slightest bit concerned that Chenle is whimpering on the floor. "It's like that saying, fool me once, shame on you. But fool me twice, I punch you-"
"No one fucking says that!" Chenle cries in agony.
Jeno's not listening as a thought pops in his head. "I can prove it. I can prove it. Follow me."
"You hit me and you want me to follow yo-"
"I said get up- get changed and follow me or else I'll punch you again!" Jeno raises his tone - Chenle screams out like a man child, weakly getting up and running to his room.
-
After going to Chenle's workplace - and taking the truck Jeno begins to 'prove' to a grumpy Chenle that he's not crazy. He doesn't even use the GPS. Chenle can't even focus on that, all he's thinking about is that he got punched by his best friend - who's now threatening to beat him up again because apparently Chenle won't remember it tomorrow morning.
"Boy will you get the shock of your life if tomorrow comes and today doesn't repeat itself." Chenle grumbles out. "I will hire someone to kill you."
"Look I'm sorry for hitting you, but I need you to believe me." Jeno emphasizes. "You'll see. There's a fountain outside of there house and a cherry-red ferrari outside-"
"How sure am I that you didn't google maps this?"
"I didn't- just listen! We'll meet the rich man. His name is Jaemin. He'll be in a white robe. And invite us in to start packing the boxes that the maids have already prepared. He'll make snarky comments about his wife and then he'll leave-"
"But that's how it's supposed to be." Chenle states furiously. "They prepare the moving boxes before hand!"
"No listen!" Jeno shakes his head. "This is different. Let's first get through this and then you'll see that I'm not crazy. We're pulling up now, and the driver will ask for documents."
Chenle can only turn his head to Jeno slowly and be baffled by his stupidity. "They have to ask the documents because-"
"Shut up and listen."
Chenle refrains from calling Jeno stupid as he watches Jeno hand the documents and drive in. "Oh look you were right. Fountain and red Ferrari." Chenle mutters out in a matter of fact tone.
"I know you're judging me. But you'll see."
After parking the truck, Chenle and Jeno step out heading up the stairs. Jeno knocks on the door- before Chenle rapidly removes Jeno's hands and presses the door bell.
"I knew that was there-" Jeno comments - causing Chenle to just glare. If looks could kill. Jeno would be dead. "Anyway he's gonna open the door and tell us he wasn't expecting us until 3-"
The door opens up and Jeno abruptly turns silent. His eyes enlarge joyously - but they drop immediately when seeing Jaemin isn't in a robe, but a black suit… the cheating suit.
"Ah! You must be Chenle…" Jaemin's voice fades when looking at the two.
"Sorry I'm Jeno. This is Chenle."
Jaemin tilts his head, having a stare with Jeno. Jeno doesn't even realize it. "You're Jaemin right?"
Jaemin nods still confused… for other reasons.
"I wasn't expecting you…" Jeno gets so happy when Jaemin's about to say the words that - "To come so late. It's after 3."
Jeno's eyes enlarge. "Oh crap. Sorry about that."
Chenle beside Jeno shakes his head. Disappointed.
"Well anyway. Come in. I called for relocation services. I already got the maids to pack the things you'll be carrying, so you don't have to worry about moving around the house- that's already taken care off. All you'll do is carry the boxes to your truck. I'm happy there's two of you."
"Yep." Jeno nods and looks to Chenle. Who still looks so sick, but manages a well and firm glare.
"Hm. Interesting." Jaemin folds his arm with a tight smile. "You can get started, it should take about an hour and a half. She's got so much shit." Jaemin mutters the last part more to himself and Jeno looks to Chenle - as if he predicted those words. "When you're done, I'm sure the lady of the house will be back, from there you can take her wherever she pleases."
"Her name is Y/n right?"
"How did you know what, I never put any of our names on file."
"Oh." Jeno panics, jaw dropping open.
"He's new on the job. Please don't mind him." Chenle butts in with a weak voice, but still maintains professionalism. "Uh so, Mr Jaemin, who's going to sign the bill of lading?"
"Well your psychic friend seems to know." Jaemin motions to Jeno. "But to answer you, my wife. She stepped out early this morning, but she will be back soon. Don't worry. And if she starts something, complaining or nagging, ignore her and keep working until that truck has all her things."
"Yes sir. Will do." Chenle bows.
"If you'll excuse me. I'll be leaving now. I've got plans." And just like that, Jaemin's out the house. Some maids open up the double doors, allowing Chenle to pick up the first and leave. Jeno follows in picking up the box as well.
"Okay, I screwed up. But I do think that it had to do with the time, the past 2 days I came early before 3pm-"
"Fuck Jeno." Chenle grumpily drops the box in the truck. "If you didn't wanna help all you had to do was say so. I wasn't going to force you."
Jeno shakes his head. "Actually you were, you bribed me with $100 so that-"
"You know what, you can leave. It's fine." Chenle walks past Jeno.
"No dude- okay I'm sorry." Jeno snaps back to his senses, realizing his friendship is at stake - and maybe- JUST MAYBE- this was the real world and that if he carried on jinxing things, he'd ruin a good relationship.
So he quietly assists Chenle to bring the boxes outside, while Chenle begins placing them nicely in the truck. Jeno feels bad, because he can hear Chenle breathing heavily and even coughing.
But he can't say much because - your car pulls up. "I hate to do this Chenle but-"
"Save it Jeno." Chenle jumps out the truck. "Let me guess she's the wife who won't sign? Gold star." He walks towards another box and continues to place it in the truck.
Meanwhile, Jeno watches you open one box and take a peak inside before looking at him. "Excuse me, where are you men taking my things?"
"Jaemin called for a relocation services. We're just packing as told."
"Bullshit. Don't you dare move another box." With that you get back in your car and drive to the stairs. Chenle didn't even pay attention to that- even though Jeno's head spirals again. Deja-vu. They continue to work in silence, before finishing up.
This time Chenle takes the clipboard. "Instead of you taking it in, I'll take it in, and come back with her signature."
And Chenle isn't wrong- because moments later Jeno watches Chenle walk back to him happily.
"I got her signature, something you couldn't do for 2 repeat days."
Jeno is downcasted, but gets in the track on the passengers seat as Chenle drives off.
"I have a feeling that you weren't so respectful when you were repeating the days."
"Okay. I fucked up-"
"Save it Jeno. Let's just wait for tomorrow." Chenle mumbles. "If tomorrow comes and I remember being punched, you better kiss your life goodbye. And if it doesn't come. You've got another chance with my good graces."
-
The time is 10 p.m. and Jeno's in some random park laying on the grass. He's ignoring Haechan's calls and avoiding the fact that he's got a shift. He truly believes that he'll wake up and the day will repeat itself. He's so upset with how the events unfolded today. He hit his best friend, got proved wrong multiple times and now he's waiting for chance to repeat this day again, so that he can make it up to Chenle.
"Damn I fucked up badly." He gets up from the ground. Deciding to walk, until he can't anymore. How did the loop even start? Because there's no bone in his body that believes this is a dream. He's never experienced this before in his entire life.
He's pulled out of his thoughts when hearing screeching tires on the road- his eyes catch sight of a rushing and speeding car that jolts up a speed bump and then dangerously swerves into a tree crashing up instantly!
Jeno covers his mouth and lets out a yell! Running to the tree- The car is smoking due the collision of the dangerous accident. "Hey! Are you okay? Help is on the way!" He quickly speed dials an emergency hotline. "Hello! Please locate and track my call! There's been an accident-"
"No problem. Sir please stay on the line."
Jeno gets close enough to the door, being a heroic in trying to get it to open up. It proves to be difficult because it's been rammed shut by the collision. With the cracked windows all the way up- he makes out the hunched over figure. He tries to work fast seeing the burning tires and engine in front- in a matter of minutes it's going to blow up. He goes over to the side door- and thankfully it's not as bad. With brute force he forces the door open - working quick as he sees blood sliding down the person's arm. Not wearing a seatbelt, he's able to pull the person out-
His eyes widen… it's you.
He tries not to pay mind to it as he continues to move you away from the car. You're bleeding badly all over your head, unconscious… he tries to locate his phone but seeing it not on him, he runs to the car to retrieve it only for a huge explosion to erupt from the car. His heartbeat beats fast and watches the burning car. He's never seen such, only in movies… to think that you could've exploded in that car is bizarre for him.
"Ah shit, my phone." He grunts before remembering that 'today' will repeat itself. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms, turning left and right, he can only hope that the ambulance is coming.
-
"Sir."
Jeno hears, but doesn't bother opening his eyes thinking he's not being addressed. Yet when a light hand taps his shoulder continuously he opens his eyes. He immediately shuts it when light swarms through. Grunting, he sits up rubbing on his eyes. The stand falls away from his eyes just as he adjusts himself to his surroundings, until his eyes land on a clock plastered on the wall. Jeno gets up, shock leading him to the wall where the time is.
Something is wrong.
It's 10 a.m. but there's no gunshots. No Mark. No phone call from Chenle… he's not on his bed like all the other times. Not in his apartment to witness the odd morning that Thursday presented itself to be. Surprisingly he's in a hospital and nurse with fitting yet a loose pink uniform has a smile on her face. "Seems like you had a good sleep sir. Sorry to have disturbed, but the patient Y/n wishes to see you." A bright corridor illuminated by the natural light from the landscape windows revealing the outside world.
He turns around, the nurse looking at him. "What day is it today?" Jeno questions instead scratching the side of his head. Noticing some ash over his pants and hands…
"Today, it's Friday." The nurse answers without much hesitancy before placing her hand out towards the open door. "This way," Jeno can only hold onto his chest with his heart beating as fast. He got so used to repeating Thursday that it feels so wrong to be Friday. It should be good, but why only when he's burnt bridges with Chenle, or made himself look like a fool the whole of yesterday. "Sir please hurry, she seemed agitated."
Jeno then nods, approaching the nurse who walks in the room first. In the room the natural lighting from the sky lights up with white room, the brightness serves as a reminder of why he hates hospitals, because despite their bright atmosphere - there's always a loitering reminder of pain. There's no other nurse in the room except the present one who gently holds onto your shoulder. You're hatched up on the bed staring out the window. There's a bandage on over your head, your arms that are visible are in casts that look heavy, Jeno can't see your leg, but by the odd shape of the blanket he knows that you probably also have a cast over your leg. You don't look so good either on your face with smaller bandages over parts of your lips, eyes, cheeks and nose. For now, all that should matter is that you're alive. Your head shifts when the nurse informs you of his presence. Your neck lifts slowly as you turn your head, the unfamiliar man stands in your room and you inhale and exhale.
"Who are you?" you let out weakly, voice hoarse from the accident.
Jeno watches the tears welling up your eyes. He can only guess what happened. If yesterday was just like the other dejavu days, then it means Jaemin your husband probably kicked you out the house and you went on a rampage and perhaps lost control of the wheel resulting in your terrible accident. He moves a bit closer to the bed as instructed by the nurse who ushers him close.
"Do I know you?" you ask another question, confusion sifting through your brain as you try to remember the man in front of you. You can't. However he's got a familiar face… "You're from the moving truck place right?"
"You remember me?" Jeno's eyes widen.
"You… were packing my things in your truck yesterday, weren't you?" Jeno nods, and you shake your head looking away. "Please get out."
The nurse draws closer to Jeno assisting him to leave. "She woke up melancholy, she needs some rest. You're free to wait outside, however if you merely saved her as you stated yesterday in your report, you can leave. We'll try to contact some relatives."
"Okay, I think that's good," Jeno nods, the reality sinking in to him of how real this day feels. No restarts and there's a huge possibility that perhaps he dreamt the whole deja vu think. "I'll leave then." Jeno concludes. The nurse politely bows, heading back in your room leaving Jeno alone on the corridor.
He's already walked down the hall and is about to turn to the staircase- but suddenly stops when hearing a scream! Rapidly he turns his head when hearing a loud metallic clink. "Please calm down ma'am!" he hears the nurse, and it's enough for him to speed walk back towards your room- His eyes widen when standing at the center of the doorway. Somehow you've opened the window wide enough and you're seated on the pane body and head facing the outside world. The nurse is at the center of the room - formulated words leave her lips trying to bring you back in the room but you shake your head.
"Please wait-" Jeno's voice captures your attention. Slowly you turn your head back, your one good eye eyes him down. Jeno sees all the tears you're releasing.
"You shouldn't have saved me."
With that, Jeno as well as the nurse both trudge forward in speed just as you let go and you lose balance falling out of their view. A loud pancake splash is all that echoes- the sound hits their ears - before a loud wave of panic and shout erupts from people outside. Jeno stands over the window eyes wide open watching your body in the white attire slowly spread with fresh red blood. Jeno covers his mouth, not able to take in the sight of your broken body- he can hear the nurse yelling and shouting, other nurses and doctors flood the room, panic washing over. But Jeno shakes his head giving himself one hard slap.
"I'm losing my mind." Another slap, another and another until he can't stop hitting himself and other nurses stop him. He can see them, their words sound muffled in his ears, and just before he knows it. He passes out.
While Jeno passes out and some nurse assists him, another runs out the room accidently bumping into Jaemin-
-
Jeno opens his eyes, holding onto his head grunting out. No gunshots. Rubbing onto his eyes, he sighs out as he looks around the room he's in. A hospital room that's darkened creating a beige atmosphere, most likely due to the night sky and darkened skies that peak out through the halo curtains.
"You're awake."
Eyes jolting to the other person in the room, Jeno's eyes blink several times seeing Chenle. "Dude? You're here,"
"Yeah," Chenle, who's been seated on the guests chair gets up and walks towards Jeno's body on the hospital bed. Jeno manages to sit up on the bed. He's still in his normal clothes, not changed and feels revealed. "They found our business card in your pocket with my number and contacted me. Said you fainted after a tragic accident occurred. What happened?"
A brief silence and thought passes Jeno's mind, just as the image of your splashed body comes to mind, he gasps out and shakes his head. "This is a nightmare. It just has to be." Chenle doesn't prompt on, Jeno already looks shaken up and much more awake then he did seconds ago. Instead Chenle takes a seat on the hospital bed gently patting on Jeno's arm. The slight touch, brings Jeno back to reality and shakes his head. "The lady from yesterday," Jeno speaks, simply wanting to get it out of his chest. Chenle listens without interruption. "She… jumped out the window." Saying it out loud, has Jeno feeling strange. It still doesn't feel real. "Said that… it was a mistake to save her. That I shouldn't have."
"Come on man, it's not your fault," Chenle ends up saying after a moment of silence. "You just happened to save her. Being a good Samaritan, she just… she was just going through her own things and had enough of life."
"This is all crazy," Silence passes through the room, before some time later a nurse walks in smiling telling Jeno that he can be discharged. He doesn't dare to ask about you, or the aftermath. Deciding to just leave it in the past. Besides, he doesn't have to care about it since the deja vu seems to have stopped and also you're gone and he won't have to worry about seeing you again. Chenle offers him a lift home, and Jeno accepts.
"Oh by the way, today is Friday." Chenle speaks when dropping Jeno off in the house with a mischievous smile on his face, as he points to his cheek. "I'm all better and I can still remember the punch."
"Man, I'm really sorry," Jeno says, no energy to fight with Chenle. After the crazy aftermath that this day had to unpack, Jeno easily apologizes, knowing that perhaps he was- he shakes his head, trying not to let himself think about it. "I guess I wasn't feeling awake when I did that…" He just wants to close this crazy week that he's had. From deja vu's to sudden death? Surely not on his bucket list, but now it'll be a core memory. After departing from Chenle's car, Jeno enters into this apartment getting ready for bed. Tomorrow he'd need to find excuses for missing out on his shifts. He scoffs a little thinking how at some point in time during the deja vu's, he got the chance to be promoted into another work space. That would've been awesome.
Shutting the lights, he can't help but stare into the darkness… hearing the screeching sound of some tires- his eyes open up again, remembering the sight of your car driving straight into the tree. His heartbeats fast. The stress of being kicked out of the house must've eaten you alive and just allowed you to spiral. He's convinced now that what you did at the hospital was your attempt of leaving the world - and driving straight towards the tree was probably also your other attempt of leaving the world.
What could've happened in your life for you to just want to end it all and not give it another try? It couldn't just have been Jaemin cheating and leaving you… Jeno ponders on, wondering why only he was able to have those crazy deja vu's… he saved you, but still you ended up killing yourself.
Before his mind drifts off to sleep, he wonders… if by chance, if he had another deja vu repeat day… would he have tried to help you out in a different way?
"I guess I'll never know," Jeno shuts his eyes, sleep taking over him.
A dream manifests itself, nothing uncommon. However he beings hearing voices.
"Remember, so that I don't forgot."
"I love you."
"Don't die."
-
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Jeno's ears twitch by the sounds of the gunfire as he slowly awakens. His eyes stiffly peel open and stare into nothing. He traces the space around him, his ears trying to hear all that's happening, he exhales before he sits up… Is that Mark again? "When will he stop doing that?" Jeno grunts getting off the bed, he doesn't bother checking on Mark, already having had enough of his neighbor. Jeno yawns out, looking at the time 10 a.m. This might start becoming an everyday thing with Mark trying to 'shoot' the 'ghosts'. Jeno goes straight for the window… his eyes already spotting the tragic tank top of the yoga man, he sees a guy jogging with headphones. A bird lands on a power line. The neighbor’s dog poops on the sidewalk. Calm as anything. Mailman doing his rounds. Wind gently nudging the leaves- all familiar traits. But then freshly on his mind comes… your body, leg twisted to the side, blood pooling around your body and clothes - people shouting and scream. Jeno shuts his eyes. The image too disturbing, and he doesn't want to ruin his day.
He gets back on his bed, trying to get back to sleep so that he can be ready for his night shift.
But then his phone vibrates. Jeno doesn't know why, however the moment his heart actually skips a beat, he holds onto his chest. A terrible feeling rising up… The last he remembers about his phone, is that it got destroyed in the explosion after your car burned up. The whole of yesterday he was at the hospital with no phone… Jeno raises up. His hand finds his phone checking the time and date.
"No, no, no, fuck! NO!" Jeno grabs the pillow throwing it over his head yelling and punching out. He gets off the bed frantically dressing up- but stops. Hands itching to throw a punch at something, anything at all. He holds himself back, trying to breath in and out and calm himself down. This can't be happening. "NOT AGAIN!" He can't help the yell that escapes his throat. "Okay just be normal! Just be normal! Why- why-why?!" Jeno yells out. But he tries to calm down.
Jeno jumps when his phone rings. Must be Chenle. Jeno picks it up quickly. "Chenle? Do you remember me punching you yesterday?" Jeno asks out as his first question.
"What? Punch? Did you have a weird dream?" Chenle coughs, a chuckle leaves his lips, indicating to Jeno that indeed the day has repeated as Chenle doesn't sound upset with him- but sick, like all those other repeat days.
"Dude something is wrong with me." Jeno rubs his temple, his thoughts going all over the place even though he tries to explain to Chenle the situation. "You're not gonna believe me, but I need you to listen to me well Chenle."
"Alright…" Chenle sounds unsure, however he gives his ear.
"I don't know what's going on, but I think I'm cursed."
"Cursed?" Chenle chortles. "How and why?"
"This day, this Thursday, it keeps repeating itself. It has repeated itself like 4 or 5 times now… At first I thought it's a dream, but it's not!- it's vivid and I can remember everything. I've repeated this Thursday 4 times now, and the 5th time which was yesterday- yesterday was Friday- and it was different."
"Okay…" Chenle awkwardly clears his throat. "Um. Let's see. Jeno uh, are you sure about what you're saying?"
"Yes I'm fucking sure! The days keep repeating themselves! And I keep waking up to the same day."
"Do you perhaps know why the days are repeating themselves?"
"No, but I can tell you of the same repeated activities I've had, you sent me to some man's house because you're sick and I witness this couple fighting- okay wait the guy wants to divorce her, but so far I've seen him kick her out once, the other time she's stealing your truck, the other time she gets in a terrible accident and then-" Jeno pauses thinking of you. "Wait, if this day has repeated, that means… she's alive…" Jeno suddenly thinks. Each encounter with you was different… could you…. be the reason to why all of this is happening? His eyes then enlarge slightly… "No way. It can't be."
"Jeno, I'm not following you," Chenle makes his presence known again over the phone call. "I think you slept well. Really well to the point where you dreamt a dream inside of a dream multiple of times. You know what my Chinese family says about deja vu? That's it's a moment that is so important, so so important that your soul refuses to let you forget about it… wait or is it a dream acting as a rehearsal for a moment your life depended on? Or maybe it's because you're stressed and tired," Chenle hums out confused before letting out a sigh. "Anyway, tomato tomato, potato potato, never mind man, what matters is that you slept so well. Anyway, I've got a moving job that I need your help with-"
Chenle goes on to asking the favour for the job, bopping up the price to a 100 and before Jeno knows it, the call has cut and he gets ready for the day. However he can't get what Chenle said out of his head… a dream acting as a rehearsal for a moment that life depended on? What does that even mean? Could this day be repeating for a reason- at that he thinks about you again. Your life has literally been brought back to life. He'll only believe it when he sees you. But what are the odd chances that this day is repeating itself because of you? Many people die, so why only is his day repeating- there must be something else. Something else… Jeno has to figure it out, otherwise these days will become like nightmares for him.
He gets ready, and puts on a black buttoned shirt and pants. Heads to Chenle's work place and passes by the manager who shakes his head. This is all a strong deja vu for Jeno, but he pushes on. The mansion is still the same, and even Jaemin…
"Ah! You must be… Chenle?" Jeno senses the confused stare from Jaemin, but remains calm. Why is he looking at him like that? Jeno clears his throat, allowing Jaemin to be snapped out of his thoughts, he looks at his wrist watch and then faintly chuckles. "I'm sorry, I…" Jaemin motions for Jeno to enter. "Sorry, deja vu. I wasn't expecting you till 3 in the afternoon, step in." Jeno walks in with hesitancy and confusion listening to Jaemin's words. Did Jaemin just say deja vu? Jeno's tempted to ask questions, however Jaemin gets back on track. "I'm Jaemin, I called for relocation services. I already got the maids to pack the things you'll be carrying, so you don't have to worry about moving around the house- that's already taken care off. All you'll do is carry the boxes to your truck. I'm sorry but I thought they'd be two of you."
Jeno stiffly smiles. "Are you okay sir?" Jeno asks instead of replying with the repeated words. If this is deja vu and if what Chenle -said is true… then something in the 'universe' is depending on him not to repeat the same mistakes of yesterday… or rather the day Thursday. This day must be important, and he has to keep in track with everything. Even Jaemin who seems oddly suspicious.
"Okay?" Jaemin looks around and then chuckles. "Yes I am, I'm sorry about that, my head is a bit clouded. You're free to work, I've got an important day ahead of me. I really have to get going."
"No problem." Jeno nods, getting to work. The work still needs to be done. He works - this time he doesn't put on any earphones, because he anticipates that after some time when he's nearly done you'll arrive. No sooner then later, Jaemin drives off even strangely waving to Jeno, before he pauses his car besides Jeno.
"Hey listen, my wife will be back any time, you can let her sign the bill of lading." And just as Jaemin drives off, Jeno carries on working. It's muscle memory at this point as he puts in all the boxes accordingly in the truck- with all the practices he's been having, it seems easier to even finish on time. And but the time your car pulls up, Jeno unintentionally pauses everything he's doing… one because he wants to see if it's really you, and two because he's surprised seeing as he's neatly arranged all the boxes inside the truck… meaning there's no box for you to check.
He doesn't know why, but he feels relief upon seeing you. Alive. Rapidly getting out of your vehicle confused, you rush up to him.
This is it- He's about to meet you for the first time… again.
"Excuse me are those my things? Where are you taking my things?"
Instead of going back and forth with you, Jeno steps forward cautiously, watching you glare him down. You're so angry. But you're very much alive. He's got a feeling, a hunch that for some reason… the day could be restarting again either because of Jaemin… or you. From the looks of it, Jaemin seems he's aware of some kind of deja vu - but you don't. Jeno's mind works like fast cogs as he wonders about your safety and health. He thinks back to Friday - for some reason Thursday didn't repeat itself and went straight to Friday. Could it have been because you were alive? If he wasn't there on Thursday… there could be a chance that you crashed in that tree and died… hence the repeated days for him.
It's a far stretch, but it's the only good thing Jeno has for now. He just doesn't know why he's affected. If this is a 'you and Jaemin' problem, then he shouldn't be involved… perhaps he was involved because he witnessed Jaemin kicking you out-
"Earth to moron?" You snap your fingers fast in his face and shove him back by the shoulder. "Listen here, you better get my stuff out that truck or else-"
A loud gasp leaves your throat as Jeno grabs your arms tightly and calls your name. "Listen here ma'am, I don't know how you're going to take this but your husband is leaving you tonight. He's leaving you for some other woman-"
"Bullshit. Don't you dare move another box." With that you push Jeno back and get back in your car and drive to the stairs. Jeno's surprised that even your car is the same. He doesn't move the boxes as you say, however he waits… and then he just decides to go inside the house. Knocking twice on the door, a servant opens it up and leads him upstairs. Jeno waits, and just like last time you're seen coming out of a specific room. "What are you doing here?"
You're dressed in that familiar red dress that highlights your gorgeous figure, and he can only remember how he last saw you sprawled out on the floor broken and hurt… dead. "I…" Jeno tries to rephrase his words in a way that won't get you to be upset or mad. But it's inevitable. "I know it's none of my business, but I overheard your husband talking to another woman. He told me to pack up all your things and once you arrive that I need to take you where ever you want to go."
You simply stare at him, confused and unable to speak. There's a flash of sadness, and then worry and then confusion. "Su, call the police, call security, call Officer Lee."
"Wait," Jeno shakes his head. "What?" he asks confused. "Your husband wants to throw you out- and you're calling the cops? You should be cutting your loses right now before something bad happens to you?"
"Look here crazy person!" You snap snapping your finger in his face with a hand over your hip. "I don't know you. You're just a stranger, a strange mover telling me my life is a lie. If there's one thing I know about Jaemin, is that he'd never leave me. I'm everything he needs."
"But-"
"Ma'am I've called the police, security and Officer Lee."
Jeno's eyes widen as he shakes his head, trying not to get mad. For some reason he doesn't even fear going to jail - something in him tells him he's going to restart the day. "If you send me to jail, I can't prevent what he'll do to you-" Jeno states.
But you scoff and fold your arms. "Su take down the number plate of his truck and send it to me. Listen here mister, I'll sue you for defamation. You think you can waltz in my house, I'll sue you for unauthorized access in my house, also known as trespassing. You're not getting away with anything, I don't care even if my husband called you, you're going to jail and I'll surely get a civil lawsuit against you as well for taking my belongings without my consent-"
"What the hell- why're you acting like a bitch lawyer? You're husband-"
"I'll let you know that I am a lawyer and anything you say right now will be used against you. Did you just call me a bitch? You could end up in jail for a breach of public peace-"
"Why are you so 'mean' woman?"
"Because you're not being 'nice' man." You firmly state, eyes enraged and Jeno just stares at you in disbelief. He's reminded of the conversation he had with you the first night you were kicked out. You were complicated. He thought you'd be soft since you are potentially dealing with some form of suicidal thoughts- but he's mistaken when he sees the scowl on your face and you type away on your phone mentioning that you will be charging for several things.
Without thinking, Jeno grabs you by your shoulders shaking you once. "You're ruining my life every time you die!" he whisper yells, seething through his teeth. "Why the fuck can't you be cooperative and leave your damn husband? He's the real jerk here, I've seen this before, he kicks you out of his house and then you kill yourself-"
"I'll sue you for harassment- Let me go!"
"Police! Step away from the madam."
"Officer Lee get this lunatic of a man away from me!" You dramatically growl in annoyance once Jeno is getting cuffed up by the police. "I'll be suing him so take him to a holding center. He grabbed me, yelled at me, swore me, moved my things without my consent, trespassed and drove his vehicle unauthorized-"
Jeno tries to refrain the words that want to spill out but he can't help himself- "You know what, now I can see why you're going through what you're going through. You're crazy." He says all this while being forced down the stairs by the Officer Lee.
"Stop talking. You've got every right to remain silence."
You don’t even look at him. You stand on that grand marble staircase, chin tilted high, the image of a woman who believes her life is perfect. You watch them drag the "crazy mover" away with a look of pure disgust.
Outside, there's a few man in black with 'Security' over their shirts, as they scan the truck and begin to unload the contents in the truck. "What the hell?" Jeno grunts as he's stuffed in the car being told of his 'rights'. He rolls head and shuts his eyes. He can't believe that this is happening to him… but for some reason, he feels disassociated with reality - especially knowing that he might wake up to the same day.
"You're in hot waters now pal. Do you know who Y/n is?" Jeno's eyes open when feeling the car move, as well as the lips of the police. "The bulldog face of the largest lawsuit enterprise in the country. You mess with her, you mess with the cruel punishments of the law. Whether you deserved it or not, you've just unleashed the hounds on hell on you. She'll get you in prison." The officer rambles on about your authority and power, and all Jeno can wonder is how on earth he's ever going to go back to his normal life when you don't even want to accept help.
"This is bull." he mumbles.
Jeno spends the next several hours in a cold, dim holding cell. He doesn't pace. He doesn't yell. He just sits on the bench, staring at the concrete floor, counting the seconds. He knows the rhythm of this day now. He knows that while he is sitting here, Jaemin is bringing another woman into that house. He knows that while he is trapped, you are discovering the truth.
At 10:00 PM, the officer taps the bars. "You're lucky. Honestly you are. Na Jaemin dropped the charges on behalf of Y/n. Said he didn't want the paperwork. Get out."
Jeno steps out into the night air. His phone is dead, black screen, no ride, no GPS. He's angry, but he's got no choice but to start walking until he finds a familiar spot. Next time he'll remind himself to bring some money or even food. This day itself is exhausting. He chuckles bitterly being thankful that at least he did something different today instead of following in his regular routine. It's actually been kind of nice not being to work, and worrying about other things then his preocupied and simple life.
He starts walking. The air is thick and humid. He walks past the closed shops and the flickering LED signs, his heart and mood slowly rising up again, feeling better.
But then, he hears it. The silence of the night is shattered by a sickening sound. Tires screeching and then a loud crash on the empty road. His head sharply turns to the sound, behind a building. Jeno sprints toward the sound near the alleyway. He reaches the bend in the road where the old oak tree stands- or rather tilts with a dent in it's arks. The black Jaguar is crumpled against the trunk, steam hissing from the engine. He doesn't call the police this time. He just runs to the door and pulls on it with all his might.
It opens easily. You are slumped over the wheel. There is no explosion this time- just a quiet, devastating stillness. He reaches for your pulse. But it's already clear from your tear-filled face as well as empty cold half open eyes that you're no longer living.
You are gone.
Jeno doesn't cry. He just stares at you… his heart aching and shifting at the sight. Your sassy talk an echo in his mind, as he wonders what pushed you to do this to yourself? He just learnt that you're a lawyer and you're a really great one- so someone with all that power… how could they still crumble and die a pitiful death? Could it really have been because of your husband throwing you outside of the house?
He backs away from the car, his eyes finding it hard to leave your face. The sight is bitter yet sweet… you look like that painting derived from Hamlet, Ophelia, a tragic character… who was struck with madness yet was still innocent.
Jeno ends up taking a seat on the grass next to the wreck, the car blows up and Jeno gets impacted slightly, but he doesn't move. In fact he lays on the ground… your burnt dead body in the car… Staring at the moon until his eyes grow heavy, Jeno stays there all night, a silent sentry for a woman who has died thinking she is 'unloved'. It doesn't help that nobody comes to save you.
Eventually, exhaustion wins and Jeno shuts his eyes.
-
Once Jeno begins dreaming… it's cut short by a voice.
"Remember so that I don't forgot."
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Jeno doesn't bolt upright. He just opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. It's one thing to restart the day, it's a whole other thing to wake up to gunshoots. Mark.
"One of these days, I'm gonna kill him and wake up to do the same thing over and over again." he grumbles out in annoyance.
And just as he gets up to give Mark a piece of his mind, his mind clicks to reality, to last night… or rather the repeat day. It finally clicks. He isn't looping because of the job or the money. He is looping because of you. The universe won't let him leave Thursday until he figures out how to keep you on this earth. Unlike all the other days, Jeno grabs his phone and types your name. It's a pretty commonly unique name, yet when he adds lawyer right there next to it- the name holds weight and power.
A real female under dog. Parents abandoned you when you were younger but you honed your intelligence like a shield and fought the good fight. Up until you got yourself involved with Jaemin… Thank goodness for the internet, Jeno reads through some headlines and scandals of your 'celebrity like' relationship with Jaemin. Jeno does a double take when realizing that Jaemin is practically famous. A personal doctor in a specialized field.
And then his phone rings.
"Chenle did you know that the person you're about to send me to, Jaemin is a fucking celebrity?"
"Hello to you too?" Chenle coughs, sounding sick but still amused. "Bro, I don't even know who that is," Chenle responds, making Jaemin wonder about how famous Jaemin is- especially if Chenle doesn't know him. "Anyway, uh, I was hoping you could do me a favour-"
"Yeah yeah, add a 100." Jeno adds with boredom and then cuts the call already knowing the morning routine of this whole day. He goes through the motions with the efficiency of a machine. He takes Chenle's job. Meets a 'confused' Jaemin. Packs the boxes. He doesn't try to convince you when you arrive- he knows you won't believe him. Instead, he waits. The time goes by slow, and just when it reaches peak afternoon around 6pm, he watches the servants of the house leave and he takes that as his sign to 'sneak' into the house.
His initial plan was to investigate and get a better chance to know who exactly he's trying to save. Obviously it's you- he has to keep you from dying. But he wants to know more about you, why a bombshell woman like yourself would rather take the high road to death rather then just live through a break up. The house is massive- he avoids going up the stairs because he knows you're there, however downstairs isn't so safe either. Despite the many places to hide, Jeno's heart beats fast every single time he hears your hilled footsteps echoing around. The mansion is surely lived in and doesn't echo silence. You're all over the place making it hard for Jeno to stay in one place. Not being seated, walking up and down, preparing food and decorations, answering calls-
"I know right, I wanted to do something special for him. It's our one year anniversary, and I think he deserves just the best. This morning he gave me a five thousand voucher to go on a crazy shopping spree. And then when I got back home, I found out he also bought me new clothes and threw all my old ones away. Can you believe it? So yeah obviously I have to do something extravegant for him." you laugh into one call. "I've planned the whole trip. We're going to Dubai in a couple of days, and I'm so excited as this will be the first trip alone. Finally we can start acting like a married couple instead of work work work-"
Jeno gathers intel about you. As well as Jaemin. Tonight, on this Thursday- just like all the other Thursday's is your one year annivarsary with Jaemin. You've planned out a surprise for him. You're sweet and thoughtful. Jeno notes. He sneaks up the stairs quickly when you head into the downstairs kitchen. Looking at the gigantic clock on the wall, Jeno ducks when realizing it's almost time for Jaemin to arrive and then just in time-
The front door opens. "Shit." He lays on the ground and shifts until he's behind a wall. He sees Jaemin-
"Why the hell are you still here?" Despite the voice being low, Jeno can hear the irritation clogged in Jaemin's tone. Wow. Already to a heavy start. Jeno notes how this won't be an easy listen.
Jeno can't see you, but he hears you. "Jaemin, please don't start this, let's be good tonight. Happy anniversary honey-"
"I told you I don't want to be with you anymore-"
"And you were angry when you said that. Look, I just want us to be good- just for tonight. Is that so hard?"
"Yes Y/n it is hard." Jaemin's tone cuts through. "And I have something to tell you-"
"No, no words, just touch me, kiss me, do anything else but yell or be grumpy- look I even got you a gift. Happy anniversary-"
Jaemin calls your name sternly as if trying to shut you up. Jeno tries to peak from the wall he's behind, while still being on the floor on his stomach. He makes out Jaemin's figure and you're outstretched hand handing him a tiny black box.
"Aren't you gonna open it?"
But Jaemin calls your name again, yet you place a hand over his lips.
"Jaemin please, I don't want to fight tonight. I saw the clothes in the wardrobe and they look so gorgeous, I mean some of them I need to get them tailored because they're too small, and others aren't my taste nonetheless I love them and I appreciate that you did this-"
Jaemin holds onto your hand as you try to touch his face. He says something that Jeno can't hear, yet when the front door opens and he sees that skimpy lady in the short black dress, Jeno can tell that it's time.
Jaemin starts again. "I need to tell you something-"
But you cut him off. "Jaemin I thought I told you to quit it with this prostitute." Your voice is loud, and Jeno wonders if he shoud even intervene. Especially knowing how this will end. "What is she doing here?"
"I asked her to come." Jaemin responds, stretching his arm back and allowing the skimpy woman to smugly take a hold of his hand and step forward. While the lady seductively walks closer to Jaemin with a smirk on her face, Jeno begins understanding a little bit more of the situation. "There's no easy way to say this, but this one year has taught me that I don't want to be committed to a woman who psycho-analyzes everything I do."
The nerve is struck when the skimpy lady opens her mouth and talks. "Is she wearing the dress I picked out?" Jeno's eyes widen when recalling the words… the clothes belong to this skimpy lady. "Why are you wearing my clothes?"
"Your clothes?" You breath out in shock. "Jaemin, it's our anniversary today, how could you?" You sound upset and even vulnerable.
"Our marriage has run it's course Y/n and I'm tired of you."
"Jaemin." You back away, away from the view of Jeno.
"It's over. I hired some guy and a moving truck to pack all your things and take you anywhere you want to go-"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Why are you acting so surprised? As if this is new? Get it in your head, I don't want this anymore. I think I'm being more than fair when asking for a divorce. Come on, don't act so surprised," Jaemin gives the most disgusted face ever. "I haven't touched you in a year. We haven't spoken in months because you're always busy with work. And oh god- I can't count how many times I've had to cancel dinner reservations because you had to work overtime. I haven't been happy in this marriage."
"Jaemin, honey, don't say shit like this. Don't say that-" You hiccup.
Jeno watches how the skimpy lady looks at you with amusement, even taking a seat on the large couch with a little chuckle. So cynical. "Please don't tell me you're one of those begging girls, you're too grown for that."
You ignore the skimpy lady and continue speaking, directing all your attention to Jaemin. "What am I supposed to do without you?"
"You're a bright girl. You'll figure it out. Take alimony. Clean me dry if that's what you want. Remove all your money from my account- heck go ahead and clear out my bank accounts. I don't care. All you ever think about is money, so take it all. Take everything you want, but this house. I own this house, you came here with nothing, you can leave with what you've earned throughout our time together. Sue me if you want. You signed a prenup, so take all that you want. But I'll have you know right now, that it's over. We need to separate because I can't do this anymore."
"You're mad Jaemin. I'm not leaving."
"No?" Jaemin clutches his jaw, chuckling bitterly. "Yes, you are. Don't make me act out, the truck is still outside. So just be obedient like you've always been and leave."
"Jaemin… please, just look at me." Your fingers claw at his sleeves gripping him tightly, slowly shaking him. "I'm the sweetheart you wanted to marry when we were just kids. We were sweethearts, Jaemin. We were kids when we started seeing each other. Ten years… how do you throw ten years onto the sidewalk like it’s trash? Jaemin, look at me. It’s me. It’s your wife. It's the girl who stayed up with you while you cried over your first surgery. How could you say these words to me? How could you… how could you do this to me? How could you say this to me?"
Your voice doesn't just tremble; it fractures, it brittles, a jagged sound that seems to come from your lungs rather than your throat.
"Jaemin, wait. This isn't- we can fix this. You're not thinking straight." You try to speak, and Jeno watches you get on your knees. Begging. "How could you do this to me? After everything I sacrificed for your career to thrive? Jaemin, it's me! I can do anything you want me to. I've always put you first. Even this work that I do- it's just for you. I'm your lawyer. How many cases have I defended you when you were guilty? Jaemin you can't do this to me. You're talking to me like I'm a stranger. You're looking at me like I'm a mistake. Please… please don’t do this to me. Not like this. Okay fine, what do you want me to do? Just say it- Please don't leave me."
"Y/n be a lady and leave quietly." Jaemin holds you up to stand to your feet, but you're shaking your head walking forward, and muttering out 'no'.
"Jaemin?" It' a small, broken sound, the sound of a child realizing they're lost. "How can you even think of doing this to me?" Your voice trails off into a ragged whisper. "How can you say these things? How can you do this to me when you know I have no one else? Jaemin, please… it's me. Don't you see me anymore? You said if you have me you have everything."
"I'm not going to say it again. Get up. And leave."
"No." You back away leaving him, not believing that this is your fate. "I'm not leaving you with this scarlet witch slut."
"Leave before I lose my temper."
"NO! I AM NOT LEAVING!" you yell out, your voice cracking painfully in the middle. "You don't get to do this! You don't get to delete ten years of my life and just… just throw me away!" Jeno listens and watches at how you aren't fighting for the furniture or the money; you're fighting for the right to exist in the life you sacrificed everything for.
"You what?" Jaemin asks confused. "I don't get the right to throw you away? Do you know what the fuck you've done to me? You've drained me! Mentally! Physically! I can't think when I'm with you! My ideas run dry whenever I'm here- stuck with you! I hate you Y/n- I hate you so much that I just want you to die- you know what- I think that'll make me happy. I want you to die. Die! Now fucking leave my house before I make you!"
Jeno's pulse quickens, as he watches the shadow play of the assault through the tall French doors. He can't stand it- the way Jaemin's hands clamp onto your frame, the raw, brutal force of him manhandling you across the marble floor like you're nothing but a nuisance to be cleared. The scene is reaching a drastic state. Every one of your jagged, desperate screams is followed by the sharp shatter of expensive porcelain and the heavy, sickening thud of furniture being overturned as Jaemin drags you by your waist. It isn't just an argument anymore… it's something he's deeply involved in now.
He watches how you try to hold onto literally anything - but it's no use, because after fiercely picking you up, he throws you out.
And then finally the door shuts, tightly with an extra bass to the house locking sound. Silence. Your voice is muffled as you cry out Jaemin's name.
Jaemin pants, his breath hitching as he rakes his fingers through his disheveled hair, the adrenaline of the struggle still radiating off him. He barely has time to steady himself before the other woman glides toward him, pressing into his space. She murmurs sweet nothings against his skin, and Jeno feels a wave of pure nausea as he watches Jaemin sink into her embrace, seeking comfort in her kiss while the echoes of your screams are still hanging in the air.
Well… now he wonders how to leave the house. To leave before you go on and do what Jaemin told you- to kill yourself. Jeno shakes his head. The urge to run down the stairs and punch Jaemin being so high right now.
"Can you believe that bitch? I can't believe you let her leave with my dress. I'm so pissed."
"Don't worry, I'll get you a new one,"
As a new wave of kisses echoes through the hollow house, Jaemin and the woman disappear deeper into the rooms, leaving the foyer silent and empty. Seizing the opening, Jeno slips down the stairs, his movements fueled by a sudden, sharp surge of courage. He reaches the front door, fumbling with the lock for only a second before bursting out into the night air- only to see your taillights bleeding into the distance as your car roars away.
Jeno sprints for the truck. It’s heavy and slow, but he has to try. Anything is better than letting the clock reset; he refuses to let the day restart only for you to suffer through that brutal confrontation all over again.
The engine groans to life as Jeno reverses and guns it, chasing after your reckless path. You're driving like someone with nothing left to lose, smashing straight through the security barrier at the gate without slowing down. Even as your car vanishes from his sight, Jeno doesn't hesitate. He knows exactly where you're heading- to that oak tree and the twisted metal of the accident. Gripping the wheel, he takes a sharp turn, pushing the truck to its limit as he attempts a shortcut, desperate to reach the crash site before you do.
He begins to wonder and think about a potential plan. What will he do? With the speed you're at, there's no stopping you with words.
After a few frantic turns, Jeno skids onto the main road. He’s made it. He swerves the truck, positioning it as a jagged shield in front of the oak tree, and leaps out. The distant roar of an engine grows louder, the high-pitched whine of a vehicle pushed to its breaking point. You're coming, and you're coming fast.
He begins waving his arms frantically, a desperate silhouette against the dark. He fumbles for his phone- 16% battery but he snaps on the flashlight, whipping the beam back and forth as he stands dead-center in the road.
The headlights finally crest the hill, blinding and furious. Jeno's heart hammers against his ribs, he has no idea if the loop protects him. If you die, the day restarts, but if he dies? It's a gamble- one that he's willing to take. He is the only thing standing between you and the end.
The car doesn't slow down. It's a bullet of steel and glass aimed straight for his chest. Jeno begins running across the street. Back and forth- darting left, then right, jumping in the path of death to force you to see him.
The screech of burning rubber tears through the night. Jeno's body goes rigid. He shuts his eyes, bracing for the bone-shattering impact, and waits for the world to go black-
BANG!
"Dad! You have to save mum! Dad, save her! Please!"
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Jeno jolts up from his bed, breathing frantically holding onto his chest- where his heart is about to beat outside of his body! Did he die? Did he die? He didn't feel anything- so he knows he must've died because he's waking up again on a Thursday. Checking on his phone rapidly, Jeno grunts and runs a hand over his face. "Fuck."
He lays back on the bed, yet sits right up remembering hearing voices just before the impact. He tries to remember the words he heard echoing around. In his dark room, he blocks out his ears, the air suddenly feels cold. Distant as he brings himself back to that moment. He doesn't know if it was a group of people or what, but he recalls the voices of a child or children… Static crackles in his ears like an old radio, and through the noise, a chorus of small, desperate voices pierces through the void:
"Dad! You have to save mum! Dad, save her! Please!"
And his eyes open wide upon his memory returning.
The words don't make sense. "Dad save mum?" and then he remembers the other times when he heard voices in his dreams. "Remember so that I don't forget?" he sighs. "What the hell is going on?
And then his phone rings. Jeno ignores the buzzing on his phone, knowing it's from Chenle. He returns to ponder on the words…
Jeno shakes his head at the random first thought that comes. He grunts. "Ugh Chenle, what the hell did you get me into?"
At this point, everything that Jeno knows to be his life is over. Three different part time jobs is a thing of the past, he doesn't sleep during the day anymore, and his thoughts have only been filled with you. Even as he drives to your place, greets a confused Jaemin and gets to work, you fill his mind. You come in your vehicle (the same ride that killed him) and you yell for him to stop packing your stuff- but Jeno's been through this so many times, that he continues packing. And waits until the truck is full.
Today is the day he'll make you survive. But then:
'Dad! You have to save mum! Dad, save her! Please'
The words echo in his ears. Who is this dad? Who is that mum? Why are the begging him to 'save her'? Is the her the same mum? And why did he only get this dream when he was knocked out dead… Nothing makes sense. Nothing feels real anymore.
He's brought back to reality when his phone rings. He knows it's Chenle, and with less dread then all the other days, he gets up on a mission. Cleans himself up well, makes sure he seems good and leaves. Nothing out of the 'ordinary' happens. Same confused boss, same road, some maids, same you yelling at him to put your things back, same maids leaving at the same knock off time, and even Jaemi appearing under the dark sky confused.
"You're still here?"
Jeno explains the bill of lading issue like it's no big deal, because he knows it doesn't really matter. What matters on the other hand, is the next scene, the scene where it gets heavy. Jaemin signs the paper, asuring Jeno that he'll get you out. And that's when Jeno steps up. Because he knows how this will end, and he doesn't want to see it, or have a repeat of it. "Hey, do you think I could come with you?"
"Where? Inside my house?"
"Yes," Jeno smiles tightly. "She was actually very… rude to me. And I just want to make sure that she's alright with leaving with me, instead of getting surprised."
Jaemin is actually stunned by that. He tilts his head to the side, no look of despair, just wonder. "Uh, yeah. No problem."
Jaemin watches how Jeno takes his steps towards the house and follows right behind him. "I swear I've seen this guy before." Jaemin mutters under his breath.
Rae, his new girlfriend seated on the passenger seat, gently brushes his hair, patting it. "What's wrong bae?"
"Nothing. Just another worker almost overstepping their boundary line." Jaemin kisses her knuckles, gently squeezing her hand while driving up the little pathway. "It seems like the 'madam' is still in the house, I've gotta take her out."
"That bitch annoys the hell out of me. You know she claimed I was guilty in court, and I didn't even do anything."
"I know sweety. This will be the last time we'll deal with her. So, wait in the car, I'll be back."
"Wait?" She scoffs. "I'll give you a head start of 20 seconds."
Jaemin smiles, before he unbuckles his seatbelt preparing himself for what's to come when he is facing you. Truth be told, he had forced himself to be with you, when in reality he didn't love you. He's tried getting rid of you, but you always held on, no matter what, no matter the arguments. While he admired your persistence, he hated how much affection you had for him. Because no matter what, he couldn't show you back that same love. So as he stands next to Jeno and presses the numbers, he opens up the house door.
The warmth of the house spills out, a warmth that Jeno knows is about to turn ice-cold, especially when he sees the passenger door open and the skimpy lady walk up the staircase of the house. Jaemin looks uneasy, however he's got a determined face. Jeno wonders what is going on through Jaemin's head in this moment.
The foyer is decorated with flowers, yellow tulips that you're fixing near the kitchen entrance. You get the glass of champagne in your hand, your face lighting up when the door opens and you see Jaemin. "Honey-"
"Why the hell are you still here?" he questions in a low tone.
Your voice dies in your throat. Your gaze shifts from Jaemin to the 'prostitute' standing in his shadow, and finally to Jeno, who is lingering by the door.
Jeno watches you. He searches your eyes for any flicker of the 'Mum' the voices screamed for. For a split second, your eyes lock with his. You don't yell this time. You don't threaten to call the cops, instead, you tilt your head, a look of profound, haunting confusion crossing your features. It's as if you're looking at a ghost you recognize but can't name.
"Y/n," Jaemin starts, his voice flat and clinical. "I’m not going to make this a long night. Please just be a lady and leave quietly."
"Jaemin, what is this?" Your hand trembles, you leave the champagne on the table with the yellow flowers and pick up a black square gift box. "You're supposed to come in and say 'happy anniversary', not bring all these strange people. Why is this prostitute here? Why is the mover still here?"
"He's here to finish the job," Jaemin says, stepping into your personal space. He doesn't touch you yet, but Jeno sees his shoulders square up. Jeno notices how Jaemin tries to remain civil - perhaps because of the people around him. "The truck is packed. You and I are through." Jaemin says lazy, causing Jeno to speak - out of place.
"What he means to say is that, it doesn't have to end in chaos, just follow me out the door
The woman in the black dress giggles, a sharp, metallic sound that grates against Jeno’s nerves. He shifts his weight, his eyes darting between you and Jaemin. He is waiting for the moment Jaemin’s patience snaps.
"You’re joking," you whisper, the lawyer in you trying to find a loophole in a nightmare. "This is some kind of sick anniversary prank. It has to be." you pick up your glass, your hands shaking as you try to drink and laugh it off.
"It's not a prank, Y/n." Jaemin reaches out, his hand wrapping around your wrist to pull the glass away. But you don't budge, causing Jaemin's jaw to tense up. "Stop drinking and leave."
Jeno moves before he can think- especially when seeing Jaemin grabbing onto both of your wrists almost violently. He steps forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "I'll take over from here. It doesn't have to get physical, and you just can't deal with someone like that. For fucks sake it's your anniversary and you didn't even warn her that you'd do this shit."
Jaemin freezes, his head snapping toward Jeno. The woman on the couch stops laughing. Even you look at him, stunned by the sheer audacity of the hired help.
"I'll deal with her the way I want to deal with her." Jaemin’s voice is a low, dangerous growl.
Jeno doesn't back down. He feels the ghost of those voices pushing at his back. Dad, save her. The way he feels in his heart right now in this moment speaks volumes. A part of him is certain that those voices were trying to call out to him- that he is the dad… and that you… are the mum… meaning in some twisted way… "I said don't touch her," Jeno repeats, his eyes burning into Jaemin's hands over her wrists. "You signed the bill of lading, I'll take over from here."
The air in the foyer turns heavy. Jaemin lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh, dropping your wrist as he turns fully toward Jeno. "I don’t know what kind of hero-complex you've got, but you're a hired hand. You don't get to mingle in our personal affairs. Get out before I have you arrested."
"Jaemin, stop it!" you yell, your voice cracking. You look between them, the champagne glass slipping from your numb fingers and shattering on the marble. The sound is like a starting pistol. You scramble back, chest heaving. "Who is this? Why are you doing this to me? I- I know you're upset but please I planned a trip for us, and I want to make it better."
"There is no trip, Y/n! There is no us!" Jaemin screams, finally losing the mask of calm. He lunges toward you, not to hit, but to grab your arm and drag you toward the door. "Both of you, out! Take your trash and your 'bodyguard' and get out of my sight!"
"No! I am not leaving!" You fight him, your heels skidding on the spilled alcohol, your hands clawing at the air. "Jaemin, please!"
Jeno doesn't wait for the violence to escalate, instead he steps in, his large frame wedging between you and Jaemin. "Let's just leave." With a firm but careful grip, he hooks his arm around your waist, hoisting you back.
"Let go of me! Who do you think you are?" you scream, pummeling Jeno’s chest with your fists. You are a whirlwind of silk and rage, your eyes bloodshot with the suddenness of your life ending.
"He isn't worth it," Jeno grunts, absorbing your blows as he maneuvers you toward the exit. "He clearly doesn't want to stay so let's go."
"Put me down this instant! I will fucking kill you! Do you know who I am?" you howl, but the door slams shut behind you, the click of the deadbolt sounding like a guillotine.
Jeno doesn't stop. He carries you, kicking and sobbing- "You don't need him."
You grunt out in pure anger. "AHHHH! Who the hell are you?" You stand up- with all sorts of emotions reflecting in your eyes. The tears that threaten to spill are a mixture of rage and sorrow once you prey with all your might and finally get out of his tight grasp. "Do you even know who I am?" you push him back with all your strength grating your teeth struggling to stop yourself from trembling from anger and disbelief. "I can sue you for meddling in my personal life- you put your hands on me- you dragged me out of my own house"
"With all due respect ma'am, he would've done worse."
"You don't know that!"
"Yes I do actually. I've seen this one too many times-"
"What the hell are you even talking about?" you cry out in pure rage and disbelief as you turn around and cover your face. A laugh and cry leave your mouth at the same time. "You just ruined- you idiot! Why did you do that? Do you know that I can sue you right now?" You break down vulnerably. "Why is he like this? How could he do that to me? With those savage- Am I not enough? I've done everything for him. Jaemin!" You pound on the door frantically but Jeno holds you back again.
You scramble out of his arms in rage pushing him back and down the steps yelling out. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!" Jeno allows you to push him around and yelling. "Who the hell do you think you are! Who the hell do you think you are? Why did you do that?" And by yourself- you stop pushing him and take a step back, panting out and looking back up towards the door that you were dragged out of. The shut door with no Jaemin. He didn't even chase after you… he really threw you out. You can't believe it, so you look back at Jeno. "I will ruin you." you whisper, your voice thick as fresh tears leave your eyes. "I’m going to sue you. I’m going to ruin you for this. You ruined everything. I could have talked him down… I could've calmed him… you just ruined everything."
Without another word, you wipe your eyes and head to the truck where your things are. You take a seat and strap yourself. By the time Jeno gets behind the wheel he takes a look at you. But you have your face in your hands.
Jeno doesn't speak.
He just starts his car and exits the mansion's noble land.
He drives the exact route he knows by heart, the one that leads to the bend in the road where the old oak tree stands. The one you crash into every night and make the loop happen again. He pulls the truck onto the grass, the headlights illuminating the thick tree. He cuts the engine.
Dryly, you let out an odd statement. "You wanna bury me alive. Don't you?" Jeno stares at you, at how odd your rhetorical question is. You've been quiet the entire ride, resorting to leaning on the palm of your hand while you stared dead at the road.
"Why would I wanna bury you?"
Your voice is now charged with irritation. "Gee Sherlock, first you kidnap me out of my own home, stuff me in your truck, and now we're in the middle of nowhere at a fucking park. Who knows what's in your trunk aside from my things- oh yeah, a knife and shovel so that you can fucking rape me and then burry me alive because you don't have the guts to kill me-"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jeno questions, sounding disgusted. "You're making it hard for me to pity you?"
"Do I look pitiful to you? Why the fuck would you want to pity me? Because my husband throw me out of the house?" Your voice charged with authority gets Jeno to sigh out in irritation.
"I didn't mean it like that." He says tightly.
"All you men are just alike," you scoff and fold your arms. Your tears have run dry and there's a dry strand making paths down where they used to be.
Jeno is confused to say the least. He doesn't understand you, even though he thought he understood. All he can do is stare while being baffled. He thought that by bringing you here, you'd remember or… at least be in your feels so that you guys could… he doesn't know what he intended- all he knows is that today was supposed to be the day he keeps you alive. But you're impossible to deal with. Your bipolar and sarcastic mood doesn't sit right with him and he just wants to leave you alone. But he knows he'd be walking up to the same day again.
So he sighs, as a way to calm down… and attempt to try again with you.
"I…" His speech halts as he wonders. Does he tell you the truth? Or some words of comfort? Fuck that- he thinks to himself. He's come too far to mess it up. And there's no way you can kill yourself now- not on his watch. "I have dreams… about you."
"So you wanna fulfill your fantasies." you mumble boredly, clearly drained of energy and probably choosing sarcasm and annoyance to get by.
"You die every time. And no, I'm not the one who kills you. You do that to yourself. " Jeno ignores you. "In my dreams… you just choose to die, because you don't want to live in a world without him- without Jaemin. And can I just tell you- while I still have the chance- that man is an ass. He's dragged you out shamelessly, cheated on you, disrespected you- and he's weakened you."
You don't say anything. And Jeno doesn't look at you, he stares at the tree.
"I know this all sounds crazy, but I'm tired of seeing you die. That's why I did what a did."
"What mental asylum did you escape?" Your question, has Jeno rolling his eyes. "No seriously, pass me the blunt you smoked so that I can escape reality just like you? To hell with this, just take me to a hotel-"
"So that you can take your own life? No. You're staying right here where I can see you."
"You can't keep me here-"
Jeno doesn't budge when he removes the key from the ignition and stuff the key in his pocket- ignoring your wide eyes of disbelief.
After a moment you lean back in stun. "I cannot believe this is happening to me." You shake your head. "No phone. No way out. And I'm trapped with a man who's smoked heaven knows what."
"I'm being serious here."
You shake your head. "No. You're being a man. You want to play games with me. So that you-"
"Humor me a bit." Jeno interrupts you, not caring. "That lady in the house- the one Jaemin brought. Do you know her?"
That gets you quiet- shut down in speech.
"How about another question… what do you dream about?"
That gets you to stare, clutching your jaw and leaning back on your seat while looking out the window. Angry, you fold your arms and restrain yourself from entertaining this mad man- you don't know what to do. The door is looked and he's hell bent on believing his damn hallucination. You could always hit him and fight him and then get out- but you're not too sure what state this man is in. For one, he could really rape and kill you- if he's that crazy. And two, you don't have anywhere to go, so even if you did run away. You've got no phone, no money… and no way…
Jeno turns his head to you. Even though you're not looking at him, he's taking you in with his eyes. Something shifts in him… call it pity or sympathy. But he just sees you being broken and in need of fixing. How did you get like this? He wonders, but doesn't say it out loud. You're hellbent on not speaking to him- Jeno watches his dashboard as the time turns from 2 minutes of silence to 30 minutes of full on quiet and only nature hearing.
"Remember, so that I don't forget." Jeno suddenly says. No reaction from you- at least not one that he can see. "I hear that in my dreams as well. As well as someone telling a dad to save a mum… I hear someone saying 'I love you'. I hear someone saying 'Don't die'. And frankly speaking… Y/n… I'm tired of starting this day over and over again… So please, just do me a favor and don't die tonight… There's literally 4 minutes to midnight… and I've missed out so much of my life trying to worry about you and trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Please."
You finally turn to him. Your eyes aren't full of the disbelief or disgust you’ve carried since you first climbed into this truck; instead, they’re just… hollow. He watches you, bracing himself, waiting for the one sentence that might finally make this loop madness make sense.
When you finally speak, your voice is a ghost of itself.
"I have dreams of dying. I don't know how I die, but when I die, I'm at peace." You lick your dry lips and look away. "It's like, only for a limited time, I'm free from my burdens of life. I'm alive even though I'm dead… So sometimes, when this earth is just too much… I dream of going away to that place where I felt nothing but waves of peace."
Jeno isn't expecting that answer at all- in fact he didn't even expect you to be vulnerable suddenly. "So you'd prefer to die instead of live?"
A dry, joyless scoff escapes your throat. "In this moment? When you’ve just ruined my relationship with my husband? Or when I’ve finally realized I was never actually needed in his life?" Your breath hitches as you catch sight of the dress draped over your lap—a dress that belonged to the other woman. "Maybe this is just what I get for choosing wrongly. You told me to remember so I wouldn't forget… and I recalled those dreams. They weren't like yours. No loops. Just visions of me in the afterlife, finally living happily with myself and with the right… with the right person."
You turn to him, your vision blurring as tears finally clump together in your lashes. Jeno holds your gaze, his chest rising in a heavy, grounding breath.
"I learned a long time ago that love hurts," he says, his voice low and steady. "So I don't bother with it. I just try my best to be… good. Or at least, to not hurt people. The world is already full of that. I'm no saint, but I hate violence. I try to minimize it. And this loop… it’s made me aware that I do have a soft spot. I don't like seeing people die."
"Tell me about this loop," you ask suddenly, the shift in your tone catching him off guard. "Tell me how I die. Tell me how you save me."
Jeno flinches, a flicker of failure crossing his eyes. "I… I haven't even saved you yet. I think this is the fifth or sixth loop. It's been almost a week now. You just die, every time."
"So what's different this time?"
He inhales softly, his throat bobbing as he gulps, trapped by the intensity of your stare. "I made it my mission that today… I’d try to get you to at least live until midnight."
Simultaneously, you both look at the dashboard clock. 00:03. A small, genuine smile breaks through Jeno’s exhaustion, and a faint reflection of it touches your own lips. "Goal achieved," he whispers.
The silence that follows is different—warm, almost stifling. Jeno holds his breath as a strange heat crawls up his skin. He doesn't want the moment to end, but before he can find the words to keep it going, you beat him to it.
"What's your next mission? To make me fall in love with life? To not give up? To believe there’s better out there for me? To forgive?" Your sarcasm is there, but it’s brittle, layered over a deep, aching sadness. You let out a small, tired chuckle. "I don't know if I'm that strong. I've revolved my entire life around Jaemin. I met him when I was fifteen; he was playing medic for my scraped knee. I took care of him. I paid his expenses so he wouldn't stress. I even became a lawyer just to get him clearance for his medical practice. I made his life easy."
Your voice cracks as the reality settles in. "So I don't understand why, after all that sacrifice, I'm the one in this truck with my life packed in the back. I've wasted my life. He took it from me, and he didn't even say sorry. He just kicked me out."
Jeno stays silent. He doesn't offer empty platitudes because he doesn't have the answers. He just sits there, letting the space between you hold the weight of your words until the air clears.
"I'm not gonna tell you to take it one day at a time," he says finally. "Because I know that’s not what you want to hear. Truth is, I don't know what's going on either. So instead, I'll just tell you to live. Not for him. For you. You’re a bright woman—intelligent beyond compare. A 'bulldog,' as I read on the 'net."
You nod, a shaky breath escaping you as you stare out at the lone tree he’s parked in front of. "Will he even care who I become now that he’s left me?"
"Who knows? But don't do it for him. Quit your job if it hurts. Start fresh. Smile more, because it’s beautiful. Don't be a picture-perfect woman. Just be… alive. Be the moment. Hell," Jeno smirks, a flash of his usual self returning. "I'm giving you motivational advice that I don't even take myself."
You chuckle, finally turning away from the window to look at him. "At first, I was just entertaining the idea of the loop… but I think I know why you were stuck with me."
"Why? Because it hasn't been obvious to me. Delight me."
"Because no one has ever spoken to me like this. No one. I'm always the one talking—"
"—And threatening to sue," he cuts in with a grin.
"Exactly." You laugh softly. "I know I’m not easy. You could've taken advantage of this loop. You could've done anything knowing the day would just restart… but you spent it trying to save me. You could've robbed a bank, or partied, or… just lived your life."
"Trust me, none of that interests me. I just get by. Anyone who knows me knows two things: I work three part-time jobs, and I sleep until 5 p.m. My life is simple."
"Peaceful?"
"Aside from a crazy neighbor shooting his gun every morning? Yeah, it’s peaceful."
"I need that peace," you whisper, the longing evident in your voice. "Do you think I'd fit in?"
Jeno looks at you, really looks at you, and shakes his head. "With the neighbors I have? Probably not. You belong in a mansion."
"No, you do. You're responsible. I belong in the gutter."
"No," Jeno says firmly, reaching out as if to stop the thought. "We're not doing that. No more putting yourself down. Let’s be positive. If you want to downgrade from a mansion to a rusty condo, then go for it. Learn something new."
You look at him, the first spark of something like hope flickering in your chest. "I will." You nod eagerly. "Are there any available rooms in your condo right now?"
Jeno's eyes widen. "Wait like now?"
You nod, a sudden, frantic energy replacing the hollow ache in your chest. He stares at you for a long beat, searching for any sign of a joke, but he only finds a sharp, desperate sincerity. He leans back into the headrest, a breath of pure wonder escaping him. He hadn't expected you to be this highly motivated, or this impulsive… but the fire in your eyes is hard to argue with. It's Friday, after all. And miraculously, he didn't wake up to the sound of Mark's morning target practice today.
Before shifting the truck into gear, Jeno looks out at the twisted, ancient branches of the tree they were parked under. He points a finger toward the gnarled bark. "Does this tree… have any significance?"
You follow his gaze, to the tree. "Did you know that trees are the only things that truly know how to let go?" you ask softly. "Every autumn, they don't struggle to keep their leaves. They don't mourn them. They just let them fall because they know that to survive the winter, they have to become a little bit emptier. They trust that something else will grow when the time is right." You reach out, your fingertips brushing the cold glass of the window. "I used to come here when the house felt too loud with Jaemin's silence. I'd look at this tree and wonder how it stayed so grounded while everything around it changed."
Jeno watches you, his expression softening into something unreadable but profoundly kind. He doesn't say anything, because he doesn't have to. The silence in the truck isn't heavy anymore… it feels like a clean slate. He gives the tree a final, respectful nod, then turns the key.
As the truck gains speed, heading toward his rough neighborhood, Jeno glances at you and sighs, almost embarrassed. "Fair warning: the elevator in my building has a personality. You have to kick the door twice on the third floor or it'll keep you hostage."
You let out a shocked laugh, the sound bright and startling Jeno for a bit.
Jeno leaves you in the truck, his mind racing. He's half-convinced that if he looks away, you'll pull a U-turn and drive straight back into the life that broke you. But he chooses to trust you. He climbs the stairs and beats down on the landlord's door… obviously Jeno is met with a storm of muffled curses and 1 a.m. irritation. After a tense back-and-forth, Jeno returns to the truck, breath visible in the night air. "Good news, there's a vacancy. Bad news, he wants the deposit before you even get a key."
You look at him, then at your lap. Your bank cards, your purse, your entire digital life… it's all back at the mansion. "I have nothing," you whisper, you sudden motivation slowly fading from your mind. "Just the boxes." Who did you think you where? Trying to 'try' at life but really you were just meant to die-
"I/ve got it," Jeno says simply cutting you from speaking down on yourself. He doesn't wait for you to protest. He goes… and then he pays the fee, and by 2 a.m., the two of you are hauling heavy cardboard boxes up a flight of narrow, slightly peeling stairs.
The apartment is tiny, a 'rough around the edges' studio that smells faintly of old floor wax. By 3 a.m., the floor is a sea of brown tape and labels. You look at the pile, then at the limited square footage, and realize half of your old life won't even fit.
"Take the rest," you tell him, gesturing to the remaining boxes in the truck. Your voice is small, hesitant, but firm. "Do whatever you want with them. Sell them, toss them. I don't want to look at them."
When Jeno finally finishes placing all the boxes neatly in the truck and wonders what to do with the rest- a cold realization hits him. If the loop is truly over, he's missed his shift. He's probably in trouble. But as he looks up at the single yellow light glowing from your new window, the worry doesn't bite as hard as it should. You're safe. You're alive. That's all that matters for now. He'll probably have to take it to Chenle's boss and explain…
He stumbles into his own room, collapses onto his bed, and shuts his eyes. Anxiety hums in his veins. Please let it be Friday when I wake up, he prays. Please let the sun come up on a new day. Not Thursday…
-
"Remember so that I don't forget."
-
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Jeno's eyes snap open. His heart lunges against his ribs, a frantic, terrified rhythm. He bolts upright, chest heaving as he gasps for air. No. No, no, no. He reaches for his phone with shaking hands, squinting at the bright screen. "Oh God. Please no. Not again." he runs his hand over hair, before pressing the button on the screen.
10 a.m.
…
Friday.
The loop didn't reset.
The day just continued.
In a state of pure, adrenaline-fueled shock, he runs out of his room and lunges up the stairs to your floor. He finds you standing in the hallway, still wearing that same dress, though it's wrinkled now. You look like you just woke up and are trying to find the source of the gunshots. You're rubbing sleep from your eyes, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Is that the gunshot neighbor?" you ask, your voice dry with morning-after annoyance.
Jeno doesn't answer. He just laughs- a loud, hysterical sound of pure relief. You're still here. You didn't vanish into a reset. He's got his life back, and you're a part of it. Sorta. He walks toward you, fists balled in excitement, and pulls you into a sudden, crushing hug.
"Thank you for not dying," he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice thick. He doesn't pay mind to your startled stance as he engulfs you closer in a deep sincere hug. "If you need anything. Anything at all, you've got a really good friend in me. I promise. I won't let you die. I can't solve all your problems, but I won't let you go. Thank you."
You stand there, stiff at first, before your hands tentatively rest on his back. You aren't strong yet-your hands are still shaking… but you don't pull away. "Seriously what did you smoke, I want to smoke it as well."
The days that follow blur into a new, quiet rhythm.
Jeno leaves behind the grind of his third late-night job, having landed a steadier gig at Chenle's workplace. It gives him something he hasn't had in years: time. Time to rest, and time to check in on the woman he pulled out of a time loop.
He didn't think you were serious about the 'gutter' life, but you prove him wrong. You officially resign from your old lawyer firm, trading courtrooms for the park, where you join those slightly tragic-looking morning exercise groups. You're always a step behind the rhythm, hesitant and unsure, but you show up. Every single day. Jeno watches you from his window… supportive.
Eventually, you land a job at a local pet store. Your days are filled with the scent of cedar shavings and the quiet company of animals that don't ask for legal clearance or sacrifices. You never mention Jaemin. You never call him. Jeno never pries into that closed door, content to just watch you build a world that is finally, mercifully, your own.
Until- An interlude… of the unthinkable happens.
4 years later…
You sit up with a sudden, sharp gasp. Your eyes fly open, but for a second, everything is a blur. The hard plastic of the hospital chair is digging into your back, and your neck feels stiff and sore. The air smells so strongly of chemicals and bleach that it's hard to breathe. Your mind is still in a daze and you look around in the dark room wondering where you are.
Then, the sound hits you.
Beep… beep… beep…
The heart monitor. It's the steady, lonely sound that has been the soundtrack of your life for four years. It snaps you back to reality instantly. This isn't a dream; it's the sterile, suffocating air of the hospital.
You sigh, the sound heavy with four years of exhaustion, before stretching your stiff limbs and crossing the small room to Jeno's bedside. You flick on the lamp, its warm glow cutting through the oppressive shadows. It’s 00:08. You yawn, rubbing the sleep from your face as you pointedly ignore the release papers sitting on the nightstand, the cold, legal reality of a life moving on without him.
You take your usual seat, sinking into the chair that has molded to your shape over the years, and look at him. Even in a coma, Jeno has aged with a quiet, heartbreaking grace. The sharp, restless energy he once had in that truck has settled into something soft and ethereal. His skin is pale under the lamp, but his features remain as striking as ever, frozen in a peace he didn't have to fight for.
Gently, you place your hand over his face, your thumb tracing the familiar line of his jaw. You smile a little, a fragile, private thing in the quiet of the ward.
"Don't die on me." you whisper. "Please… wake up."
Suddenly, the steady rhythm breaks into a frantic, high-pitched sound.
Beep-beep-beep-beep!
"Jeno?" You bolt upright, your heart leaping into your throat.
Jeno's body is shaking violently on the hospital bed. He's fighting against the thin hospital sheets, his back arching off the bed in a stiff, painful curve. His heels dig into the mattress, and his arms and legs are trembling with a force that looks like it might break him. It's terrifying to watch. It looks like he's trapped inside himself, and his mind is desperately trying to tear its way out of his skin just to get back to you.
"Nurse! I need a nurse in here! Help!" you scream, your voice cracking with the same desperation you felt in the dream.
The door bursts open. A swarm of blue scrubs floods the room. "He's crashing! Status epilepticus, get five of lorazepam, now!" A nurse yells out.
"Step back, Mrs Na! We need space!"
You sink against the cold hospital window, the glass chilling your forehead as you bury your face in your shaking hands. The tears come before you can stop them, hot, heavy, and exhausted.
It feels like a lifetime ago, yet you can still see the exact moment the light went out.
Fours years ago… after Jeno and you had just created a life together by welcoming twins into the world… Jeno was in a terrible truck accident.
It didn't just break his body but it stole his memory. You remember standing by his bed back then, your heart racing, waiting for him to look at you with that familiar warmth. Instead, when he finally opened his eyes, he looked right through you.
The look was hollow. Empty. It was the first true tragedy of the loop… the day the man who had died a dozen times to save you finally lived, only to look at the woman he loved and tell the doctors he didn’t know who she was.
You had been devastated, a ghost haunting the halls of your own life, but you stayed. You held his hand every day, even when his fingers remained limp or, worse, when he pulled away because you were a stranger to him.
"You're here again," he had whispered a few months into the first year after his accident when you came to visit him in the hospital. His voice raspy from disuse. He wasn't looking at you with the warmth you'd grown custom to… or the shared secret of the midnight deadline. He was looking at you with polite, agonizing curiosity.
"I brought the books you like," you said, your voice caught in a permanent state of repair. "The ones about the trees. You used to say they were the only things that stayed in place."
Jeno tilted his head, a ghost of a frown pulling at his brow. "I don't remember saying that. I don't… I don't even think I like… trees that much."
The rejection was a physical blow, a silent bang that echoed louder than any gunshot neighbor. You forced a smile anyway, the kind of smile you'd practiced in the mirror.
"That's okay," you whispered, reaching out to tuck the blanket around his legs. "I remember for both of us."
"Why do you stay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for a history that simply wasn't there anymore. "You're a lawyer, aren't you? You look like you have important places to be. Important people waiting."
You paused, your hand hovering near his. "I'm…" The doctors told you to be patient and steady, and not rush to expose all the memories… "I'm not that person anymore, Jeno. I'm just… a friend. Someone who doesn't like seeing people go through things alone."
He had just nodded then, turning his head back to the window, leaving you to sit in the heavy, sterile silence of a love that only existed in one heart.
He remembered his best friend Chenle.
The second tragedy was louder, more violent. It didn't arrive with the hollow silence of his memory loss; it came with a crash.
Just as the doctors finally cleared Jeno to come home—the modest two-bedroom apartment you’d carefully scrubbed and prepared—the reality of your new life collided with his fractured one. You stood in the doorway, watching him navigate the hallway like a man walking through a museum of someone else's life.
Then, the nursery door creaked open.
The sight of the twin cribs, the soft scent of baby powder, and the quiet gurgling of two infants should have been a homecoming. Instead, Jeno froze. He looked at the babies, then back at you, his expression a painful mixture of confusion and a growing, defensive panic.
"Who… whose are they?" he whispered, his voice thin.
The truth died in your throat. You looked at the man who had died for you, the man whose face was mirrored in the sleeping children before him, and you chose the only mercy you had left.
"They're mine," you said, the lie tasting like ash.
"Who's the baby daddy? You married?" he looked at your ring.
"Ah… yes. The baby daddy… and I are taking a break. But don't worry about it. I'm just your roommate, Jeno. We've shared this place for a while. It's… it's a big apartment. You have your own space."
He let out a breath, his shoulders dropping in visible relief. "Oh. Right. Roommates." He looked at the twins again, his eyes distant and polite. "They're… they're beautiful. Oh they're girls. Sorry if I ask too many questions."
"It's okay," you managed, your nails digging into your palms as you forced a steady tone. "You were gone for a while. It's a lot to take in."
You had to accept it then… the crushing weight of a father who didn't recognize his own blood. You watched him reach out a hesitant finger to touch a tiny hand, only to flinch back when the baby stirred. It was a clean break. You were a ghost in your own home, raising his children in the shadow of a man who thought he was just a guest.
Every time you looked at them and saw his eyes, his smile, his quiet strength, the wound reopened. But you stayed. You played the role of the helpful roommate, the kind stranger, because even if he didn't know who you were, you knew exactly who he was to you.
And the second tragedy… one minute, he was standing in the middle of your small living room, his brow furrowed as he argued about something trivial, a misplaced key, a bill, something you can't even remember now. Then, the words simply died in his throat. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped.
He hit the floor with a sickening thud, his body suddenly a stranger to itself, shaking like a fish out of water. You had scrambled to him, your heart hammering against your ribs, pressing your hands to his shoulders and counting his breaths until the storm passed. You thought you'd won that round.
But the second time, there was no warning.
You woke up in the dead of night to the sound of the bedframe rattling against the wall. The moonlight caught the frantic, rhythmic jerking of his limbs. You screamed his name, shaking him, begging him to come back, but his eyes were fixed on a ceiling only he could see.
"Jeno! Jeno, look at me! Breathe, please just breathe!"
Your voice had been a raw, jagged thing in the dark, but he was gone. You fumbled for your phone, your fingers slick with sweat as you dialed for an ambulance, the silence of the room replaced by the terrifying, wet sound of his labored breathing.
The rush to the hospital was a blur of red lights and cold linoleum. You sat in the waiting room, your hands stained with the ink of the release papers you couldn't bring yourself to sign, until… a doctor finally emerged with a look that held no hope.
"It's Status Epilepticus," the doctor explained, his voice clinical and detached. "Essentially, his brain has entered a seizure loop. It's stuck, and it won't break on its own."
"Loop?" You asked.
The word loop had sent a cold shiver down your spine. It was a cruel irony, the man who had spent a while trying to break a loop of time was now trapped in one made of his own firing neurons.
Usually, a seizure lasts a minute or two, and the brain resets. But for Jeno, the electrical storms in his head just kept firing, one after another, without giving his body a second to breathe. They explained to you, in those cold hospital hallways, that because the seizures wouldn't stop, his brain was essentially overheating.
To save his life and stop the permanent damage, they had no choice. They had to put him into a medically induced coma.
They told you it would only be for a few days, just enough time for the 'electrical fire' in his brain to burn out so they could wake him up. But days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. And eventually, those months turned into four long, silent years. His brain had gone into a protective shell, and no matter how much the doctors tried to lower the medication, Jeno simply wouldn't wake back into reality.
For four years, you've lived in a quiet house. You've watched your 2 baby girls grow up in a long, cold shadow, babies becoming young walking girls who only know their father as a steady heartbeat and a collection of tubes.
'Dad you need to save mum please-' One of your daughters would whisper in her father's ear. 'She keeps crying. Please wake up.'
You've had to be both parents, all while mourning a man who was still breathing right in front of you. He was technically there, a body in a bed, but he was spiritually gone, lost in some dream world you couldn't reach.
But ten days ago, everything changed.
The doctors called you, their voices tight with a new kind of energy. For the first time in a while, the monitors showed a spark. A surge. Something in Jeno was fighting back, screaming from the bottom of a dark well. They told you to talk to him. They said he needed a 'tether'… a reason to climb back up. They told you that your voice might be the only thing strong enough to pull him home.
And so you've been sitting here, hour after hour, whispering the same stories into the silence, hoping that somewhere in that seizure loop in his head, he can finally hear you.
So even now… through the gaps between the doctors' shoulders, you watch the chaos. "He's in V-fib! Charging! Clear!"
BANG.
Jeno's chest jolts off the bed. The sound echoes in the room.
BANG.
"Come on, Jeno," you whisper into your palms. "Don't leave us. Not again."
BANG.
The monitor lets out a long, terrifying drone… and then, a steady, slow beep… beep…
"He's stable. Sinus rhythm is returning." The doctors begin to exhale, backing away, recording notes. One by one, they file out, leaving the room in a heavy, exhausted silence. All except one, Doctor Na Jaemin.
"Y/n. It's time to sign those papers-"
"No. He's still breathing-"
"You can't possibly want to live like this. Have pity on yourself. It's been 4 years- You're not looking any happier then he is." He calls your name gently. "When are you gonna finally leave him?"
"I can't give up on him." You walk past Jaemin and sit on the edge of Jeno's bed. "He saved my life…"
"It doesn't mean you get to save his."
"Yes it does. I said my vows. In sickness, and in health."
Jaemin sighs. "You said those vows to me now-" he shuts his mouth when you give him a glare. "Fine. I'll leave." The release papers that he left a week ago are still on the coffee table. Jaemin shakes his head, finding everything hopeless.
"Thanks." Jaemin stops in his track and then looks at you. "For paying the bill for this month, for him."
Jaemin's expression tightens, his hand lingering on the door handle. There is a flicker of something in his eyes… not just the professional coldness of a doctor, but the exhaustion of a man who has been playing a long, patient game. As a lead neurologist, Jaemin had been the one to oversee Jeno's case from the very beginning. He was the one who explained the Status Epilepticus to you four years ago, and he was the one who eventually told you that the coma might be permanent. But over those four years, the lines had blurred…
The relationship Jaemin had with the woman he cheated with didn't last. Once the thrill wore off, he realized she was only there for the lifestyle and the money. When he heard you had rushed to the hospital that night, breaking down in frantic heaps of tears, he showed up. He stood right beside you as if he belonged there.
Because you had never responded to the court dates for the divorce, you and Jaemin were still technically married. Even after years apart, the paperwork said you were his. He took advantage of that. He saw your vulnerability, a woman exhausted from waiting for her 'roommate' to wake up, struggling to raise two babies alone.
Eventually, the stress broke you. Between the mounting hospital bills for Jeno, the rent for the condo, and the costs of two growing children, you were running on fumes. Jaemin made a proposal, and with no other choice, you agreed to move back into the mansion, but only until Jeno got better.
It was a cold arrangement. Jaemin became your support and your financier, playing the part of the devoted husband while the man you actually loved lay silent in this hospital room. You were living a double life: a wife in a big, empty house by day, and a grieving stranger at Jeno's bedside by night.
He's been pushing the release papers for months now, his medical expertise telling him that Jeno's brain is a lost cause. He wants you to sign them so the hospital can finally pull the plug and let Jeno's heart stop. To the world, Jaemin is being a merciful doctor; but to you, it feels like he's trying to erase the only man who ever truly saw you.
"Don't thank me for the money, Y/n," Jaemin says, his voice dropping to a low, frustrated hum. "I'm not paying his bills because I want him to stay. I'm paying them because I want you to be free. Just look at you, clutching a hand that hasn't squeezed back in a decade."
"He's still in there, Jaemin," you whisper, not looking back at him. "I know he is,"
"Not this again," Jaemin counters sharply. He looks at the papers on the coffee table one last time. "The board is pressured for the bed, and your children deserve a mother who isn't a ghost. Think about it. Really think about it tonight."
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone with the hum of the machines.
You turn back to Jeno, his face pale and still. You reach out, lacing your fingers through his, and for the first time in ten years, you don't talk about the kids or the weather. You lean in close to his ear.
"Jeno," you breathe, your voice trembling. "If you're ever going to wake up… if you're ever going to save me like you did before… it has to be now. Because I don't know how much longer I can fight him for you."
Suddenly, the heart monitor- the one Jaemin just said showed no hope- skips a beat. Then another.
And then, Jeno's thumb brushes against your palm. You don't know if it's reflexes, but he's done this to you, several days in a row now. Always private, with no witnesses but him and you. And it's in that slight thumb brushing over your fingers, that you have hope.
You sink into the chair and take his hand.
"What are you dreaming about, honey?" you ask, your voice a ragged whisper as you brush a stray hair from his forehead. "Because I miss you." You lean heavily against his arm, the sterile scent of the sheets filling your senses. "Please wake up… I need you to wake up. The doctors are telling me it’s time to pull the plug. They say it's been too long. But Jeno…" A sob escapes as you press his cold knuckles to your lips. "I need you more than ever."
You let out a small, bitter laugh, the kind that only comes from years of grieving someone who is still breathing. "Are you still in the loop? The one where you saved me? Where we went from strangers to… whatever we were? What was it you said? Remember so that I don't forget? I need you to remember, Jeno. I need you to remember me."
You start to tell the story again, the one you've whispered a thousand times in this room, hoping the truth might finally shatter the glass of his coma. You look down at the ring on your finger, the one you still wear, even though the Jaemin thinks of Jeno's ring as a joke.
"Jaemin… he really hates you. He wants me to think about it. To give the go ahead at pulling your plug. But I won't even think once about killing you. All I can think about is how you saved me." You take a soft breath, thinking about where all your problems started. "It should've been me who got hit that day. I should've been the one in that truck… but you took the keys that morning and offered… It should've been me."
Your eyes water as you bury your face in the side of the bed. After a moment, you sit up, checking the clock. 01:00 AM. "I'm so scared he’ll do it while I’m not here," you whisper to the silent room. "That he’ll pull the plug the moment I step out. I can't leave you alone. I'm just so scared."
You lean forward, resting your forehead against his hand, seeking a warmth that isn't there.
The door creaks open. You brace yourself for another one of Jaemin's rages, but instead, he walks in calmly, carrying a bouquet of flowers. He crosses the room with practiced ease and drops to one knee, presenting the flowers like a peace offering. Tucked into the petals is a small note.
You set Jeno's hand down gently and take the paper. Jaemin watches your face as it shifts from deep sadness to confusion, and finally, to pure shock.
"Jaemin…"
"The girls are turning five next week," he says with a heavy sigh. "They need a father. I'm sorry for rushing you, but I can't keep watching you fall apart for a ghost in a bed. I've been their father for four years, Y/n. Let's make it official."
He looks at Jeno's still form, then back at you with a terrifyingly calm expression.
"Please. End his misery so ours can finally begin. I promise you this time, I will treat you better. I miss you."
-
Jeno's Pov
Jeno is walking down a hallway that never seems to end. Everything is a pale, shimmering white. Every few seconds, bright flashes of light zip past him like falling stars. He knows he is trapped in his own mind… his own memory lane, and he is searching desperately for a way out. A way to wake up. He has to find the exit before the light disappears forever.
He reaches out and grabs a brass handle. When he opens the door, he sees a memory in the room… a familiar memory.
"You're late," your voice says, playful and sharp as he follows you to the kitchen after a heavy shift. You are wearing an oversized t-shirt, holding a piece of burnt toast. "I finally made burnt toast. See how fast I'm advancing in life."
Jeno wants to laugh, but he knows this isn't real. He remembers the smell of the toast and the way the sun hit the wallpaper. He stays for just a second before pulling the door shut. "I'm coming back," he whispers to the empty hallway. "I need to get back to Y/n… she's waiting for me… Focus Jeno. Come on now… where is that door?"
He opens another door. It's a memory of a pet store. You are covered in dog fur, looking tired but happy. "Jeno, look," you say, pointing at some kittens.
He smiles, but it hurts his ghostly face. He doesn't know how long he's been here in his own mind filled with memories of his life… but he knows he's been here for a long time, looking through memories; some which he gladly stays to watch and others he quickly walks by. But within the past hours, he's been feeling an urgency to hurry up.
He closes doors, one after another, and the next, and the one after that. Each door is a piece of the life you built together after the loop incident. He knows he has to keep moving; he can't stay in the past. Some memories, he's too ashamed to look at- such as the ones where he had amnesia. He can see the look of sadness passing through your eyes in all those memories- and it's not something he likes to see.
Then, he stops at a door that feels warm. It feels like home. He steps inside.
Could this be it?
The air smells like a hospital, and he hears a sharp, thin cry. He watches a memory of himself from four years ago. You are in the hospital bed, gasping for air. You both thought there was only one baby.
"Wait," the doctor says in the memory. "There's another one. Help her, Dad, here she comes."
The Jeno in the memory looks like he might faint, but then he is holding them, two tiny babies wrapped in pink blankets.
"Auemi," the memory-Jeno whispers. Then he looks at the second baby. "And Jenny. Our little Jenny." He kisses your forehead and then kisses the girls. It was the happiest moment of his life. It was the moment the loop finally felt broken.
Jeno steps back into the white hallway. His heart is heavy with those names: Auemi and Jenny.
"I have to get out!" he gasps. He looks up and sees the lights starting to dim. The 'sun' in this hallway is setting, turning the walls a dark purple. He is running out of time. He can feel his connection to the real world getting thinner and thinner.
He starts to run. He passes doors of graduations and quiet dinners, but none of them are the exit. The shadows are getting longer, swallowing his memories one by one.
"Not yet!" he screams into the dark. "I'm not finished! I haven't seen the way out yet-"
But there is no handle. There is no lock. There is only the growing darkness and the distant, fading sound of a heart monitor's lonely beep.
The darkness isn’t cold… it's heavy, like being underwater. Jeno stands before the towering, skeletal tree and the clock with the humming, invisible hand. The ancient voice doesn't boom this time. It's a whisper that fills his skull, weary and patient.
"YOU HAVE REACHED THE BOUNDARY, LITTLE SPARK."
"I'm not ready," Jeno says, his voice cracking. He thinks of the tiny, milk-scented heads of Auemi and Jenny. He thinks of you sitting in that plastic chair, your spirit thinning like a worn-out silk ribbon. "Please, help me find the exit. I have to get back. Please."
The Being isn't visible, it's manifested itself as a tree. The air shifts causing the wind to blow over the trees so that it may speak. "THE LIFE YOU BUILT WAS A STOLEN FRAGMENT. YOU WERE ALLOWED TO LIVE, ONLY IF YOU SAVED HER LIFE. AND YOU HAVE. NOW YOU MUST GO-
"The hell? No. I'm not going."
"YOU WERE ONLY ALIVE BECAUSE OF GRACE, BUT JENO, YOU DIED THAT NIGHT."
"What night are you talking about? I didn't die- I just had amnesia-"
"THE FIRST NIGHT YOU MET Y/N. YOU DIED."
"What?"
Suddenly a door appears in front of the tree and slowly opens. Jeno doesn't need to step forward as he can see clearly. The dreams… or rather the loop he lived over and over again is no stranger to his memory… But this time, he sees that after picking you up from Jaemin's outrageous brutal kick out of the house, he drives you… to the tree… he recalls that peaceful talk you had with him, about how you wanted to change your life. And just as he's driving to his apartment… he accidentally crashed into a tree… He crashed it in a way that it saved you… he died… while you lived.
"That's not possible…"
"THE TRUCK WAS THE END, JENO, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE. EVERY YEAR SINCE HAS BEEN A DEBT."
"A debt to who?"
"TO YOURSELF. AND NOW FINALLY YOU ARE BEING SET FREE."
"Wait-" Jeno shakes his head. Understanding, but not wanting to understand, and it seems that the Being talking through the tree doesn't mind explaining for as long as Jeno asks. So Jeno gulps. "Please wait. Don't I get to see them? My family? My children… My Y/n?"
"DOWN THERE… IN THE ROOM OF WHITE WALLS… THE DEBT IS BEING SETTLED. THE PLUG HAS BEEN PULLED. NOT OUT OF MALICE, BUT OUT OF MERCY. THEY ARE LETTING YOU GO."
Jeno shakes his head. "What are you saying? Are you saying that I died and the only reason I was alive was to pay a debt to myself?"
"YES, YOU MADE A VOW TO BE THERE FOR HER UNTIL SHE WAS UP AND READY TO STAND ON HER OWN TWO FEET. SHE IS READY. AND NOW IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO GO TO. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE JENO."
Suddenly a sparkling and shining white door opens. Jeno back up, tears rapidly over his eyes. "No… Can't I at least stay… just to watch her? Please- I don't want to go-" Jeno cries.
"TO STAY IS TO WATCH HER WITHER. TO DIE IS TO LET HER BLOOM AGAIN."
"Is there no other option?" Jeno cries. "I didn't even tell her I love her- I miss her- please-"
The Great Tree shivers, its dry branches clattering like bone. "THERE IS A THIRD PATH. THE ONLY PATH WHERE YOU REMAIN ALIVE."
Jeno looks up, hope flare-lighting in his dark eyes. "Anything. I'll take it."
"IT'LL BE HELL FOR YOU. BUT IF YOU WANT, YOU MAY RETURN TO A MOMENT IN TIME THAT YOU THOUGHT WOULD LAST FOREVER." the voice rumbles, a note of warning beneath the floorboards of the world.
"A moment in time that I thoguht would last forever? You're talking about the loop?"
"FOR THE WORLD, LIFE WILL CONTINUE. Y/N AND JAEMIN, AND YOUR CHILDREN WILL LIVE ON. BUT FOR YOU, YOU WILL BE TRAPPED IN THE LOOP. IN THE LAST DAY WHERE YOU LIVED. TO THE MOMENT THE CLOCK STRUCK TEN A.M. AND THE GUNSHOT WOKE YOU UP. YOU WILL BE TRAPPED. THE LOOP WILL RESET EVERY TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. FOREVER. SHE WILL LIVE, AND YOU WILL BE WITH HER, BUT YOU WILL NEVER SEE YOUR DAUGHTERS GROW. YOU WILL NEVER GROW OLD. YOU WILL SIMPLY… BE IN THE LOOK. UNTIL THE END OF TIME."
Jeno freezes. The ultimatum hangs in the air like a guillotine.
"CHOOSE, SPARK. THE PEACE OF THE AFTERLIFE, LEAVING HER TO FIND A NEW PATH… OR THE ETERNITY OF THE LOOP, WHERE SHE IS SAFE-
"You mean where she dies every night… you want me… you want me to watch her die every night?"
"WHERE YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHO REMEMBERS."
Jeno closes his eyes. He sees the future he just left…. the one where he is a "ghost in a bed." He sees you at the pet store, tired but real. He sees the twins fifth birthday… he sees you happy. If he goes back to the loop, those girls will never exist. You will be a lawyer again, sharp and angry and "the bulldog," trapped in a single Thursday for the rest of eternity.
"You said… if I stay dead…" Jeno whispers, "She lives?"
"SHE CARRIES THE LESSONS YOU TAUGHT HER. SHE SURVIVES."
Jeno looks at the flickering door in the distance. He can hear the long, flat tone of the heart monitor. He can hear your jagged, broken sob… the sound of a woman who has finally, mercifully, let go.
He stands up, his hands shaking.
"If I could live in a single Thursday forever, would I? Even if it meant watching the person I love forget me a thousand times? Let me guess… I already made the decision to loop… that's why I kept looping in the first place. My future self selfishly chose to live…" He looks at the clock. "How could I do that… I can't take her life away just so I can have her. I can't trap her in a Thursday because I'm too selfish to leave."
"SO GO. DIE IN PEACE LITTLE SPARK."
Jeno bites his lip, the veins popping on the side of his head as he holds back his tears.
After awhile of reminiscing of the life he had with you, he turns away from the 'loop' door. Away. He walks toward the Great Tree, his heart heavy with a love that is finally, truly, selfless.
"She said when she died… she'd feel peace…" Jeno chokes out, his form beginning to dissolve into golden sparks.
The Being is silent as Jeno reaches out and touches the bark of the tree. The darkness isn't heavy anymore. It's warm.
-
In the hospital room, the flatline continues. You are hunched over Jeno's hand, your forehead resting on his knuckles. Tears streaming down your face.
But then, the air in the room shifts when the warmth leaves his hands. You hold onto your stomach… Your sob echoes all the way down the hallway. You look up at his face. He's gone, but for the first time in four years, his expression isn't blank. He looks like he just achieved a goal. And with that, you shut your eyes in remembrance. He told you... to not live for anyone else. But for yourself. Even though Jaemin opened doors and assisted you. You won't allow yourself to be treated any different from how you treat yourself.
pairing: jongho x reader, jealous jongho and y/n, y/n is literally kinda bitchy but not really. Jongho is down bad (like literally). smut, fluff, angst (if you reallyyyyyyyyyyy squint) jongho is literally so hot like omg. SLOW BURN
Summary: She just wanted to escape, so she went to a new place, new people, away from her hometown, which she hated. Then she saw him.... her escape
Warning: softish sex (more soft I KNOWWWW SO WERID) dirty talk, unprotected sex it's not much of hard sex but definitely dirty, swearing, alcohol. (The reader goes to the club and a party)
An: OK WELLLL I WENT A LITTLE MUCH ON THIS ONE (jongho is literally my bias sooooo teeheee) BUTTT THIS IS I THINK A SLOW BURN SO YEAH ENJOY PLS LIKE REPOSE ARE ALWAYS HELPFUL AND REQUEST
I felt an overwhelming urge to escape. It wasn’t typical for me to take a break, let alone flee from my familiar surroundings, but the burden of everything had become too heavy. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I purchased a one-way ticket to South Korea, surrendering to the allure of the unknown. As the plane ascended, I felt my heart race, a blend of excitement and fear surging. I was leaving behind my parents, friends, and the life I had always known. Yet, I didn’t mind; the prospect of a fresh start and a new beginning in a foreign land was exhilarating.
Upon landing, I checked into a modest hotel that would suffice for my needs. I didn’t have the resources for an apartment or house yet, but I was determined to make this work. My thoughts raced as I lay my head on the hotel pillow, unable to shake the feeling I needed to immerse myself in this vibrant city. I craved excitement and adventure. A party, a club, or perhaps a bar seemed the perfect way to dive into the local scene. But did I even have anything suitable to wear for such an outing? After rummaging through my suitcase, I finally settled on a bold red dress for the night ahead.
Once I finished getting ready, I stepped out into the bustling streets. The cabs here were significantly pricier than those back home, but I didn’t mind. The thrill of being in a new place made every penny feel worthwhile. I stood in front of a lively bar, music pulsating from within. Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the heavy door and entered the vibrant atmosphere.
Inside, the bar was an explosion of sounds: loud music mingled with laughter and the cheerful clinking of glasses. It was all so exhilarating, yet I felt a knot of anxiety in my stomach. After all, I was looking for something new, but stepping into such a lively environment made my heart race. I scanned the room and spotted two girls sitting together at the bar. They appeared friendly and approachable, so I decided to take a leap and join them. I was tired of waiting for others to make the first move; it was time to take control of this new chapter in my life.
“Um, hi, I’m Ravenn! I’m new here… well, not HERE, just to Korea in general,” I stammered, instantly feeling awkward as my words tumbled out. The sensation of being a fish out of water overwhelmed me; it was challenging to navigate this unfamiliar world.
One of the girls turned toward me, her striking white hair and edgy dark makeup giving her a goth-inspired look that was cool and a bit intimidating. “Ravenn, right? I’m Rocky, and this is my girlfriend, Hannie. Just a heads-up: don’t even think about flirting with her,” she said, her tone authoritative.
"Rocky, you’re scaring her!" Hannie interjected with a playful laugh, her demeanor disarming. “I’m so sorry about that! She’s just a bit protective of me. What brings you to Korea?”
It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders as I shared my story: “Long story short, I ran away from home because everything was just too much, so I flew out here on a one-way ticket. That’s that!”
“Oh, badass!” Rocky exclaimed, her eyes lighting up in approval. I couldn’t help but smile at her excitement.
“Really?! I just wanted to make new friends!” I responded, my heart swelling with a newfound sense of belonging.
“Feel free to hang out with us; we’d love to be your friends,” Hannie offered, her warmth enchanting.
As we chatted, I felt a sense of camaraderie forming between us. I glanced around the bar, my eyes wandering until they settled on a striking guy with a muscular build. He had a mole that caught my attention, which was on his neck and made me smile, but as I continued to stare, Rocky interrupted my thoughts.
“Oh, you really shouldn’t stare at him for too long,” she warned with a serious tone. “He’s bad news.”
“Bad news? What makes him so terrible?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
“He's the type who’ll sleep with one girl, ditch her, and then move on to another. He’s downright insane. But hey, it’s your life; I just care about my girlfriend and her alone,” Rocky replied, pulling Hannie into an affectionate embrace, which made Hannie smile.
“But listen, if we’re going to be friends and he does anything messed up to you, I swear I’ll take care of him,” Rocky added, her protective spirit evident.
“Alright, that’s enough of you,” Hannie said, gently patting Rocky's head, her tone a mix of annoyance and affection. “Just be careful, okay? Don’t accept any drinks from him. God knows what he’ll do.”
“Got it,” I said, amused and grateful for their concern.
While the bar's atmosphere still felt loud and chaotic, Rocky and Hannie's entertaining banter kept my spirits high. The evening unfolded with laughter and conversation, helping me to shed my feelings of awkwardness, and for the first time in a long while, I believed that this fresh start might lead to something extraordinary.
The bar was rather dull; the only people bringing me joy and laughter were Rocky and Hannie. Meanwhile, that guy I couldn’t help but stare at seemed to notice me, glancing my way from time to time.
“Look, if you want to talk to him, go ahead! We're not stopping you. Don’t be a coward; we can literally see you two eyefucking each other,” Rocky said, clearly intoxicated.
“Oh my god, it's not like that! I just appreciate how he looks, that’s all,” I replied, lying through my teeth.
“Well, how about a one-night stand?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Alright, I did move here to be a rebel… Fine, I’ll do it,” I said, rising from my seat as the people who are now my friends cheered me on.
As I approached him, my heart raced faster than ever.
“Hey,” I said, trying my best to sound intriguing.
“Hey,” the stranger replied, “are you going to buy me a drink or what?”
“Maybe. Why should I?” I asked.
“Well, because you were looking at me, and I was looking at you, so…”
“So?” Wow, this guy is tough to engage with. His indifference is apparent.
“Alright, I’ll buy you a drink, but you must tell me about yourself first, okay?”
This cheeky guy—“fine, deal.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
"Hi, I'm Y/N. I arrived a few hours ago after leaving my hometown for personal reasons, and now I’m here. Oh, and I absolutely love chicken." This made the unknown guy chuckle. His smile is truly one of a kind; it’s like that of a gummy bear.
“Cute, well, the names Jongho, Choi Jongho, if you will. I'm a total party animal, so maybe I’ll invite you to my party one day.” I nodded, smiling, still a bit sketchy about this dude, about what my friends told me about him
As we strolled towards the bar, laughter and conversation flowed freely between us, each sip of our drinks breaking down barriers. He captivated me with his charm—the kind of handsome that makes your heart race, yet there was an edge to him that hinted at danger. It was the perfect balance of allure and thrill, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was everything I had been searching for.
“You just arrived and are heading to a club first. That’s quite intriguing, wouldn’t you agree?” He makes you blink a few times. You never thought of it that way. “Well, I just— I guess?”
He smiled, but it wasn't a full smile; it was that infuriating smirk of his.
Initially, you thought the club was somewhat dull, but as you got tipsy, Jongho made you laugh. He was funny all along, though.. As you began chatting with Jongho, Rocky unexpectedly appeared. “y/n, Hannie and I are heading out, but take my number in case something goes wrong,” she said, giving Jongho a thorough look as she walked away.
"I noticed you've been making friends."
"Somewhat. Are you jealous that I didn’t choose you as my first friend?"
“Somewhat,” he said, mocking your question. This is going to be a long night.
As the club meeting wrapped up, Jongho and I slowly rose from our seats, the sound of chairs scraping against the floor filling the air. The atmosphere was still buzzing with the shared moments from the gathering. With a gentle sigh, you reached into your pocket, pulled out your phone, and glanced at the screen, the glow illuminating your face in the room's dim light.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity as he peered over your shoulder at your phone screen. I let out a light sigh, trying to keep my irritation in check. “Um, I’m calling a cab…”
At the mention of the word 'cab,' his eyes widened in disbelief, as if you had just suggested something utterly absurd. “A cab?!” he exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“Yes, the kind that takes you wherever you need to go. Ever heard of it?” I replied, my tone laced with sarcasm as I observed him roll his eyes dramatically, clearly struggling to grasp my transportation choice. “I’ve heard about a cab service,” he said casually, his voice dripping with impatiently. “But really, why take a cab when I can drive you myself?”
I frowned, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief at his audacity. “Are you serious? Why would I ever let a stranger drive me home?” My voice was tinged with a mix of skepticism and frustration.
He shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, think about it. Why would you let a stranger buy you a drink, then?” His question lingered in the air, forcing me to contemplate his perspective. Despite the apprehension I felt, his argument had an undeniable logic. Up to this point, he had been nothing but courteous, yet the rapid pace of this interaction was leaving me feeling uneasy.
“I can get home perfectly fine on my own,” he chuckled softly, his confidence evident. “But as a gentleman, I feel it’s only proper to offer you a ride.” I scoffed at his self-proclamation, shaking my head in disbelief. “Whatever, just make sure there’s no weird stuff happening, Mr. Gentleman.”
“Me? Being weird?” He feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “Well, I never!” The playful banter hung between us, slightly lightening the mood, though my reservations still lingered in my mind.
Time was ticking, and I was desperate to go home. “Well, come on, what are you waiting for? Take me home,” I said, grabbing my things and the bits of my drink and walking off, Jongho obviously following behind.
The car ride was quieter than I expected, each passing city light streaking across the windows like the ephemeral scenes of a movie playing out in slow motion. I felt the hum of the engine and the faint thrum of bass from the radio, which Jongho had set at a level just high enough to fill the silence without overpowering our thoughts. My gaze remained fixed outside, examining the dazzling urban landscape. The vibrant neon colors blurred together in a mesmerizing dance, a stark contrast to the feeling of tension that brewed in the cramped space between us.
Jongho’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel, and despite my attempts to ignore his sidelong glances, I could feel his gaze lingering on me, gauging my reaction to the night. After a few minutes that stretched on like an eternity, he broke the silence, his voice unexpectedly soft against the backdrop of the city’s chaos. “So,” he said, casually but with an undercurrent of something deeper, “can I have your number?”
The question caught me off guard. For a brief moment, I weighed the implications of giving him my number—the potential complications and the uncharted waters it could lead us into. Yet, there was something genuine in his tone that sparked a flicker of intrigue. With a hesitant nod, I relented, handing him my phone. “Yeah, okay,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “But no weird texts at 3 AM.”
He chuckled, a playful smirk spreading across his lips as he punched in the digits quickly and handed my phone back. “No promises,” he quipped, the glimmer in his eyes suggesting he was up for the challenge. “But I’ll try to keep it PG.”
As the car pulled up to the curb of the hotel, the lively atmosphere buzzing just beyond the glass, he paused, turning to look at me, a semblance of seriousness replacing the playfulness on his face. “You know,” he began, his gaze steady and earnest, “there’s a party tomorrow night. My place. You should come. Bring your friends if you want. Just… come.”
A thrill shot through me, mingled with apprehension. A party with him? It felt like a dangerous yet tempting invitation, like standing at the edge of a cliff and staring into the unknown depths below. I fought the urge to bite my lip as I considered his words. Everything I had come here to find—adventure, connection, maybe even a little chaos—was wrapped up in that simple invitation. I nodded slowly, weighing my options. “I’ll think about it,” I finally said, my heart racing with both excitement and trepidation.
Jongho’s grin widened, lighting up his features in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Good. I’ll send the address,” he said, the promise of tomorrow hanging in the air like the intoxicating scent of possibility, both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.
The next night arrived faster than I anticipated, a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling in my stomach. I arrived at Jongho's apartment, flanked by my close friends, Rocky and Hannie. As we approached, my breath caught in my throat. The place was massive, sprawling, and modern, clearly not what I expected from someone who seemed so effortlessly laid-back. The sound of loud music pulsed through the door, a vibrant rhythm that electrified the atmosphere, and as we stepped inside, we were greeted by the sight of bodies swaying under dim, golden lights. The air was thick with laughter and chatter, intermingled with the beat of the music.
“Wow,” Hannie whispered, her eyes wide in wonder. “He really doesn’t do anything halfway.”
“No kidding,” I muttered, trying to suppress the flutter of nerves in my chest as I scanned the room.
Almost as if he sensed our arrival, Jongho found us quickly. He looked different from the relaxed guy I met at the bar; tonight, he wore a sleek all-black outfit, the fabric hugging his form perfectly, and a silver chain dangled at his collar, catching the light in a way that made him look effortlessly cool. When his gaze landed on me, a broad smile broke across his face, and he moved toward me with a warmth that made my heart race.
“You came,” he said, pulling me into a quick hug that lingered for just a moment longer than I expected, and I felt a rush of warmth flood my cheeks.
“Yeah. We all did,” I replied, gesturing to Rocky and Hannie, who stood a little behind me, both giving him encouraging nods.
“Nice,” he said, still looking at me, the connection between us palpable.
For the first hour, the evening felt magical. Jongho introduced me to his friends, each one more vibrant than the last, and he passed me a drink that was refreshingly sweet. Even when he joined me on the dance floor, moving awkwardly at first but with an enthusiasm that made me smile, I felt a sense of belonging that I hadn’t expected. Laughter bubbled around us, and I found myself leaning closer to him, caught up in the moment.
But then, like a storm brewing, he arrived.
Tall and broad-shouldered, Minjae strolled over with a swagger that suggested he owned the place, a grin plastered on his face that could charm anyone. My stomach twisted as he approached, his confidence almost palpable. Within moments, he was invading my personal space, laughing a bit too hard at my jokes, and, to my dismay, casually resting a hand on my lower back. The familiarity of his touch sent a shiver up my spine, but it was the look in Jongho's eyes that truly changed everything.
I felt the air shift around us, a palpable tension settling in as Jongho’s expression hardened into something fierce. His arms crossed defensively over his chest, his jaw clenched slightly in that way that suggested he was ready to spring into action. I could see him watching Minjae with a simmering intensity, a protective spark flaring in his dark eyes.
“So, y/n,” Minjae said, leaning in as if he had all the right to invade my space. “You single?”
Before I could form a response, Jongho stepped in beside me with the calm confidence of someone who wouldn’t let his territory be encroached upon.
“She’s talking to me,” he said, his voice flat, exuding a calm but intense presence that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
Minjae raised an eyebrow, his smile not faltering. “Relax, man. Just having a conversation.”
“Yeah? Well, find someone else to talk to.” Jongho's voice dropped lower, a warning lacing his words.
The sudden confrontation caught me off guard, and I stepped back slightly, feeling the tension in the air. “Wow,” I said, my voice slightly incredulous. “Is this a thing? You get jealous that easily?”
Jongho turned to me, and for a fleeting moment, I could see the hardness in his face soften, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability behind the bravado. “I just… I invited you here. I didn’t think I’d have to compete for your attention.”
“You don’t,” I replied firmly, feeling emboldened. “But you also don’t get to act like you own me.”
His jaw tightened once more, and I could sense the internal struggle churning behind his eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but ultimately just nodded in quiet resignation before walking away, melting into the crowd like a shadow casting itself apart from the light. I stood there, feeling a mix of confusion and exhilaration, my heart racing as I processed the unexpected turn of events. The evening’s magic seemed to flicker, overshadowed by the tension that now hung between us, like an unresolved chord in a symphony waiting to resolve.
I stood there for a moment, my heart racing. Minjae had vanished too, sensing the tension. Hannie and Rocky came up beside me.
“Well,” Rocky said with a smirk, “that escalated.”
“You okay?” Hannie asked gently.
“Yeah. I just… didn’t expect him to care that much.”
Rocky sipped her drink. “Care? Girl, that man looked like he was about to go to war.”
Later that night, I stepped out onto the rooftop, the cool air brushing against my skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the bustling party inside. My eyes caught Jongho, who stood alone, leaning against the railing, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. The neon lights of the city below flickered like stars, casting a kaleidoscope of colors that painted his solemn profile. He didn’t acknowledge my presence as I approached, the tension between us palpable.
“You mad?” I asked, breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air.
“No,” he replied, his voice low and edged with disappointment. “Just… disappointed in myself.”
I arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “That’s new.”
His gaze remained fixed on the distance, lost in his thoughts. “I didn’t want to be that guy. The jealous one. But when I saw him touching you, I— I don’t know. It just got under my skin.”
I wandered closer, leaning against the rail beside him. The metal felt cool against my arm, a stark contrast to the fiery emotions swirling within. Silence enveloped us, thick and uncomfortable, as I pondered the duality of the evening—a night that had begun with laughter, which had now morphed into an unexpected confrontation.
“I came to Korea to get away from drama,” I confessed quietly, my gaze drifting to the shimmering skyline. “But here I am, right in the middle of it again.”
Jongho turned to face me, and I glimpsed the vulnerability in his eyes, softening the sharp lines of his earlier angst. “I don’t want to be drama for you, y/n. I just… like you. More than I probably should.”
His words hung in the air, and my breath caught in my throat. The admission felt like both a weight and a release, bringing forth a warmth that fluttered in my chest.
“Then maybe don’t act like a walking red flag,” I whispered, half-serious, but also teasing in an attempt to lighten the mood.
He smiled, a playful smirk beginning to form, reminiscent of the carefree laughter we had shared the night before, yet this time, there was a tenderness that softened the edges. “I’ll try.”
In that captivating moment under the canopy of stars, everything around us faded away, leaving just the two of us suspended in time—a fragile stillness that felt achingly beautiful.
---
The morning light burst through the thin hotel curtains, unrelenting, as if it had a vendetta against my groggy state. I shielded my eyes, squinting against the brightness, but the sunlight didn’t bother me nearly as much as the dull throb in my head from the drinks. It wasn’t the hangover, however, that weighed on my mind; it was the memory of Jongho’s voice—the tremble of jealousy, the longing in his gaze, the intensity with which he looked at me, as though he considered me his already, without uttering a word about it.
With a resigned sigh, I propped myself up slowly, brushing the hair from my face, each movement reminding me of the night’s events. As I reached for my phone, a single message lit up the screen, pulling me from my thoughts.
Jongho [2:14 AM]: “Hope you made it back safe. Sorry about earlier. If you’re free sometime, let me make it up to you. No pressure.”
Reading his words, warmth flooded through me, an intoxicating mix of excitement and hesitation. There was something about his gentle apology and the promise of making it up to me that stirred hope within me, a glimmer of potential amid the uncertainty that had unfolded. I rested my head in my hands, contemplating what had transpired and how everything had shifted between us.
I stared at it for a while. It wasn’t overbearing. It wasn’t creepy. Just… simple. Thoughtful. Still, I left it on read.
Later that day, Rocky and Hannie dragged me out for coffee at a quiet spot near Hongdae. They had that kind of infectious couple energy, the kind that made you roll your eyes but secretly crave it too.
“So,” Rocky said, sliding into the booth across from me, “Jongho, huh?”
I groaned. “Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying,” she teased. “He’s kinda… whipped.”
“He doesn’t even know me,” I muttered, stirring my iced americano too aggressively. “It’s all surface-level. He wants the idea of me, not the real thing.”
“Then let him get to know the real thing,” Hannie chimed in gently. “You don’t have to fall in love. Just… let people in.”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I didn’t see Jongho again for a while. Maybe that was on purpose. I kept busy—job hunting, exploring the city, learning bits of the language, trying to build a life that didn’t revolve around someone else. But he didn’t disappear completely.
Sometimes he sent memes. Sometimes music recommendations. Never too much. Always spaced out. He didn’t push.
And I hated that it made me smile.
Then one day, I got a message.
Jongho [6:47 PM]: “There’s an art exhibit opening this weekend. A little quieter than a club. I remembered you said you wanted something different. Wanna come?”
This time, I typed a response… then deleted it. Typed again. Deleted again. Finally:
Me: “I’ll think about it.”
I went.
Not for him. For me.
That’s what I told myself, anyway.
The gallery was small, tucked between cafés, but it was peaceful. Clean white walls. Soft music. Paintings that made you stop and feel something. Jongho was already there, dressed simply in a button-down and jeans, hair a little messy like he didn’t try too hard.
“You came,” he said, smiling like I was the last person he expected.
“I said I’d think about it,” I replied, brushing past him and heading toward a piece that caught my eye.
He followed, of course.
“I wasn’t sure you liked this kind of stuff,” I said as I studied a painting of a woman staring into a cracked mirror.
“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I liked the idea of being around something quiet. Something real.”
I glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at me—he was watching the painting, brow slightly furrowed. Serious. Thoughtful.
Maybe not all surface-level, after all.
We wandered the gallery slowly, not always speaking. It was… comfortable. He didn’t try to flirt. Didn’t try to make a move. Just stood next to me, quietly reading titles and occasionally offering a small smile when I caught him looking.
Afterward, we sat on a bench outside under a streetlight, the city humming softly in the background.
“Why are you trying so hard?” I asked suddenly.
He looked at me, taken aback.
“You don’t even know me. And yet here you are, taking me to art shows and walking on eggshells.”
He exhaled, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
“I don’t have a good reason,” he said honestly. “I just… want to. You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. You can keep shutting me out if that’s what you need. But I’ll be here, okay? Not trying to impress you. Just… trying.”
I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing.
But for the first time, I didn’t feel like running.
The weeks that followed felt like a blur. Somehow, Jongho became a constant in my life. We weren’t dating. We weren’t anything. But he was always there.
Random texts.
A coffee waiting for me on days I didn’t ask.
Jokes that made me laugh even when I was in the worst mood.
He never asked for more. He just showed up. Quietly, steadily.
I told myself it was harmless. I told myself I didn’t feel anything.
Until she showed up.
Her name was Jisoo. Pretty, confident, the kind of girl who didn’t need to try. I met her at a small gathering Jongho had invited me to, and the moment I saw them talking — too close, too familiar — something twisted in my chest.
I watched them from across the room, her hand lightly brushing his arm as she laughed at something he said. He wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. But I hated it. I hated her. I hated the way I suddenly wanted his attention more than anything in the world.
I left early, pretending I had a headache. He offered to walk me out. I told him not to bother.
And then… I ghosted him.
I didn’t reply to his texts.
I avoided the usual places we’d run into each other.
Rocky noticed.
“You’re mad at him,” she said one day as we sat outside a café.
“I’m not,” I replied quickly.
She gave me a look. “You’re mad at him for something he didn’t even do.”
I stayed quiet.
“Just be honest with yourself,” she said. “You like him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Y/N.”
I took a slow breath, staring down at my drink.
“I don’t know what I feel,” I whispered.
That night, I scrolled through old messages from Jongho. The dumb memes. The playlists. The good morning texts he never expected replies to.
My chest ached.
The next morning, I saw him.
He was across the street, laughing with some friends. He looked fine. Like I hadn’t disappeared. Like it didn’t matter.
But then he looked up — and he saw me.
His smile faltered.
We stared at each other for a moment.
Then he crossed the street.
“I was starting to think you blocked me,” he said with a soft laugh.
I couldn’t even look at him. “I’ve been busy.”
“I figured.” His voice was quiet. “Did I do something wrong?”
I shook my head, still avoiding his eyes. “No.”
“Then what is it?”
He didn’t push. He just stood there, waiting.
Finally, I looked up. His face was calm, but there was something behind his eyes. Hurt.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said.
“That makes two of us,” he replied.
There was a pause.
“I missed you,” he said quietly.
Something inside me cracked.
And for the first time, I admitted it — not out loud, not even fully to myself — but deep down where it mattered.
I missed him too.
Maybe more than I wanted to.
After that run-in, things shifted — not all at once, not dramatically — but in small, quiet ways.
I didn’t ghost him again.
But I didn’t exactly seek him out either.
He’d message me, and I’d reply. Eventually. Sometimes. If I was in the mood.
When we hung out, it was with Rocky and Hannie. I made sure of that. I needed the buffer. I told myself it was to avoid things getting weird again. But really… I was scared. Scared of what it meant that I cared.
Because I did. Way more than I should.
One night, we all met up at a late-night food stall. The air was cool, and we sat under string lights that gave everything a soft, warm glow. Jongho sat across from me, chopsticks in one hand, his other scrolling through his phone.
“Try this,” he said, leaning forward to hold out a bite of tteokbokki with an annoyingly confident smile.
“I can get my own food,” I said, eyebrow raised.
“I know. But this one’s better. It has extra sauce. I picked it for you.”
I stared at him for a second too long. Then, reluctantly, I leaned in and took the bite.
“Okay,” I mumbled through the food. “That’s actually good.”
“Told you,” he said, grinning like he just won a game.
I looked away, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips.
It was little things like that. Nothing huge. Just him… being him. Consistent. Patient. Still never pushing.
I caught myself watching him sometimes. Laughing with Rocky, bumping Hannie’s shoulder playfully, talking with the food stall owner in broken Korean just to make them laugh. He was loud and sarcastic and annoying — but he had a way of making people feel comfortable. Even me.
Even when I didn’t want to be.
A few days later, he texted me again.
Jongho [3:16 PM]: “This bakery just opened near my place. You said you liked pastries, right? Wanna check it out this weekend?”
I stared at the message. My first instinct was to say I was busy. Keep my space. Keep control.
Instead, I typed:
Me: “I guess. Don’t make it weird.”
Jongho: “Weird? Me? Never.”
When Saturday came, I almost didn’t go. I stared at my closet for thirty minutes before throwing on something simple and telling myself it wasn’t a date. Just friends. Just pastries. Just casual.
He was already waiting outside when I arrived. Hands in his pockets, beanie over his hair, and that same lazy grin.
“You look… not annoyed to see me. That’s new.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I said, brushing past him and heading inside.
The bakery was cozy and smelled like cinnamon and sugar. He ordered something chocolatey for himself, and without asking, he ordered a strawberry pastry for me.
“How did you know—?”
“You mentioned it once. Back at the bar. First night we met.”
I blinked. I didn’t even remember saying that.
“You remember everything, don’t you?”
“Just the things that matter.”
I looked away, heart stuttering.
We sat in a booth by the window, people-watching and trading bites of pastries, arguing over which was better. At one point, I caught myself laughing — genuinely laughing — and when I looked at him, he was already staring at me.
“What?” I asked, immediately defensive.
“Nothing,” he said, that smirk softening into something quieter. “You just… look happy.”
I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. “Don’t get weird on me.”
“I won’t,” he said. “Not unless you ask me to.”
A few days later, Rocky dragged me to a rooftop get-together. I wasn’t in the mood, but she insisted. Said it would be good for me. Normal.
Jongho was there.
So was she again — Jisoo.
Of course she was.
I tried not to react. I told myself it didn’t matter. But when I saw her standing next to him, laughing again, holding a drink in the exact way she had last time... something cold settled in my stomach.
I watched for a while. Too long. Until Jongho looked over and caught me staring.
He excused himself from the group and walked over, hands in his pockets.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I said, voice flat.
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He blinked, confused. “I just— you looked— never mind.”
I hated how disappointed he looked. I hated how I wanted him to explain himself. Like he owed me anything.
So I left.
I didn’t say goodbye. I just… left.
The next day, he didn’t text.
And I hated how that made me feel even more.
It happened two nights later.
I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about everything — him, Jisoo, the bakery, the night market, the rooftop, the dumpling, the way he said he liked the version of me that let him in.
I checked my phone. No new messages.
I opened our chat. I typed something. Deleted it. Typed again.
Me: Are you awake?
Three dots appeared.
Jongho: Yeah.
I stared at the screen for a long moment. Then:
Me: I was jealous. The night of the party. Of Jisoo.
There. It was out.
My heart pounded.
Jongho: You don’t have to be.
Me: I didn’t say I wanted to be.
Jongho: I know.
Jongho: But if you were… does that mean you feel something?
I closed my eyes, fingers hovering over the screen.
I could lie.
But I didn’t want to.
Me: I think I do.
I hit send.
Then threw the phone across the bed like it might explode.
But when it buzzed again, I grabbed it in half a second.
Jongho: I’ve felt something since the first night you walked into that bar in that red dress. I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.
Two days passed since I told him.
Since I finally admitted it — even if just over text — that I might feel something.
He hadn’t pushed. He hadn’t followed up. He gave me space, like he always did.
And it made me restless.
I kept glancing at the door, checking my phone, pacing the floor like something was about to happen… and I wouldn’t know what to do when it did.
I had just gotten out of the shower, towel around my shoulders, hair still damp, when I heard the knock.
Three soft taps. No hesitation.
I froze.
Another knock.
I wrapped the towel tighter around me, inching toward the door. I didn’t ask who it was. I already knew.
I opened it slowly.
There he was — standing in the hallway, hoodie on, hands in his pockets, eyes locked on mine like he already knew I’d answer.
“Hey,” he said, voice low. “I was walking around. Ended up here.”
“Right,” I said, barely above a whisper.
He looked past me, into the room, then back at me.
“Can I come in?”
“You ok?” he asked
I crossed my arms, trying to hide how much his presence unsettled me. “I’m fine.”
He smiled softly, stepping closer. “No, you’re not. You told me you were jealous. That’s not ‘fine.’”
I looked away, biting my lip.
“You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready,” he said quietly. “I just wanted you to know I’m here. Whatever pace you need.”
I swallowed hard, meeting his eyes again.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
He reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle but deliberate.
“Y/N,” he said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”
And for the first time, I believed him.
Jongho took a step closer, his presence filling the space between us. His eyes darkened, locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. His hand brushed against mine, fingers barely grazing, but the contact sent a ripple through me, warm and unexpected.
“Been thinking about you,” he said low, voice almost a whisper but heavy with meaning.
I swallowed hard, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “You always say that.”
“Maybe,” he smiled, the corner of his lips twitching in that familiar, teasing way, “but it’s true.”
Slowly, he reached up, brushing a loose strand of damp hair behind my ear with the gentlest touch. His thumb traced a delicate line along my cheekbone, like he was memorizing every detail—every curve, every freckle.
The space between us seemed to shrink, but neither of us moved further. The moment hung, fragile and charged.
“Tell me if I’m moving too fast,” he murmured, his voice rich and resonant, laced with an unspoken depth—care, patience, and a tenderness that wrapped around us like a soft blanket.
I shook my head, feeling breathless, as if the air had thickened in the space between us. “I’m… not sure.”
His smile was a gentle curve, softening his features, exuding an aura of patience that felt like a promise softly whispered into the night. “Then I’ll wait.”
We lingered in that moment, suspended in time, with only the distant murmur of the city outside filtering through the stillness. The tension that enveloped us hung like a heavy, sweet mist, thick with unvoiced promises and the anticipation of moments that lay just beyond our reach—timeless and unhurried, waiting for us to be ready.
Jongho stepped closer, his presence expanding in the intimate space between us, filling it with a warmth that was intoxicating. His dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch in my throat. As his hand brushed against mine, the slightest graze of his fingers ignited a warm ripple through my body—unexpected and electric.
“Been thinking about you,” he said, his tone low and intimate, almost a whisper but laden with unshared meaning.
I swallowed hard, a rush of warmth flooding my cheeks. “You always say that.”
“Maybe,” he replied, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips, that familiar glint of mischief dancing in his eyes, “but it’s true.”
With a deliberate slowness, he reached up, his fingers gently brushing a damp strand of hair behind my ear, a touch so delicate it felt like he was afraid to break the spell we were under. His thumb traced a careful line along my cheekbone, exploring my features as if he were committing them to memory—every curve, every freckle etched into his mind.
The distance between us diminished further, yet neither of us crossed that invisible line, both of us acutely aware of the weight of the moment. It hung in the air, fragile and charged with the energy of unspoken words.
“Tell me if I’m moving too fast,” he murmured again, the sincerity in his voice palpable, echoing that deeper emotion I could feel vibrating between us.
I shook my head once more, caught in the shimmering intensity of his gaze, barely able to draw in a breath. “I’m… not sure.”
His smile deepened, radiant and patient, a promise painted across his lips. “Then I’ll wait.”
We remained suspended in that beautiful stillness, the quiet hum of the city outside the only sound to accompany us as the weight of our unspoken communication filled the air—heavy yet sweet, a tapestry of possibilities ready to unfold whenever we were both ready.
The kiss began softly, our lips brushing gently together as if testing the waters. A rush of warmth spread through me, igniting every nerve ending as I melted into the moment. His hands found their way to my waist, fingers grazing the fabric of my shirt and sending shivers down my spine. There was a sense of urgency that only intensified the sweetness of our connection.
As the kiss deepened, it felt like the world around us disappeared. All I could focus on was the taste of him, a tantalizing mix of mint and something uniquely him. My hands instinctively tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and I could feel the gentle weight of his body as he guided me back toward my bed.
We moved together, a fluid motion that felt so natural. With each step, anticipation built within me, mingled with a hint of nervousness. Once we reached the edge of the bed, he paused, looking into my eyes with a blend of desire and sensitivity. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, searching my gaze for reassurance.
In that moment, I felt a rush of emotion, a mix of excitement and vulnerability. Though I was bubbling with uncertainty, I nodded, my throat dry and my heart pounding in my chest. Yet, he wanted more—he wanted to know that I was truly on board with this unwritten boundary we were about to cross.
“Words, my love,” he encouraged, his voice low and inviting. The warmth of his breath sent goosebumps across my skin. Taking a deep breath, I finally managed to speak. “Yes, it’s okay,” I murmured, finding a newfound confidence in my words.
A smile broke across his face, illuminating his features with an infectious joy. “Good,” he replied, and in that instant, the tension lifted, replaced with a shared understanding. We leaned into each other once more, our lips meeting with renewed fervor.
The kiss now overflowed with passion; it wasn’t just about curiosity anymore. Our chemistry ignited as if two flames had come together, each kiss more fervent than the last. His hands roamed gently over my sides, igniting trails of heat wherever they went. I lost myself in the sensation, feeling free and alive as every kiss drew me further into this beautiful moment of exploration.
Together, we navigated this thrilling new territory, discovering not just each other but also the exhilarating feelings that swirled around us, making this night unforgettable.deeper, more urgent, reflecting a mix of excitement and curiosity. I felt his hands gently cradle my face, pulling me closer as if to eliminate any space between us.
Before I knew it, he was guiding me toward my bed, the world around us fading away. I felt a rush of butterflies in my stomach, a blend of anticipation and nervousness swirling within me. As we reached the edge of the bed, he paused, looking into my eyes, searching for reassurance. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, my heart pounding, but words escaped me. The mix of emotions left me feeling breathless, overwhelmed but in a good way. It was as if time stood still for a moment. But he wanted to hear me, to know that I was truly comfortable. “Words, my love,” he prompted gently, a hint of a playful smile forming on his lips.
Gathering my courage, I found my voice. “Yes, it’s okay,” I finally replied, my words steadying our shared moment. His smile widened, warmth radiated from him as we resumed our kiss, a blend of passion and tenderness as we began to explore this new territory together. Each moment felt like a sweet discovery, and I knew that whatever happened next, we were in this together. He kissed my neck and licked it, causing me to moan, "Oh, you like that, don't you, girl?" "I guess it feels good," I said, causing him to shake his head and chuckle, oh that fucking chuckle. "You really want to say that when I'm about to fuck the shit out of you?"
Our clothes were eventually scattered on the floor, and he looked amazing in his boxers more than I really imagined. He was facing me as I was lying on the bed, "Take it off."
"What?" I said, getting caught off guard as he grabbed my hand and put it on his boxers. "Off now... please," he said with pleading eyes
'I couldn't say no to that and grabbed his boxers and pulled them down, making it fly free, it wasn't long, it was big as fuck. He notices the look on your face, "Don't worry, I'll go nice and slow. For you, darling, just please let me go inside your pussy. Oh fuck please." I nodded and scrambled to take my panties off. Something about his pleas fucked me over, and I loved every second of it. As soon as I nodded, he dove right in, kissing sloppily on your neck. "Jongho put in it already, please." he listens, putting his fat cock inside my pussy. "Oh fuck darling, your pussy is so fucking tight," he whines as he stays there waiting to move as much as he wants to. It stings, it's not your first time, far from it, but Jongho's cock is bigger than anyone you've had before.'I couldn't say no to that and grabbed his boxers and pulled them down, making it fly free, it wasn't long, it was big as fuck. He notices the look on your face, "Don't worry, I'll go nice and slow. For you, darling, just please let me go inside your pussy. Oh fuck please." I nodded and scrambled to take my panties off. Something about his pleas fucked me over, and I loved every second of it. As soon as I nodded, he dove right in, kissing sloppily on your neck. "Jongho put in it already, please." he listens, putting his fat cock inside my pussy. "Oh fuck darling, your pussy is so fucking tight," he whines as he stays there waiting to move as much as he wants to. It stings, it's not my first time, far from it, but Jongho's cock is bigger than anyone I've had before.
As it started to feel better, I tapped him and asked him to start thrusting, and he listened, "fuck.." I said as he started to get faster, "fuck darling, you're really tight, no one has fucked you right, huh darling?" I nodded. "What did I say before? words," he said firmly in my ear, making my whole body shudder "n-no" "good little baby," he said, going faster than before. The whole hotel room bed was shaking, and it started to smell like sex
"fuck baby, your tight fucking pussy is going to make me cum deep in your fucking guts, can you feel it?" I didn't take him as the type to talk this dirty in bed. "Yes, I feel it."
This night just keeps getting better
bonus:
I woke up looking at the side, seeing if Jongho was still there.
he wasnt
panic started to rise as I arose from the bed. I look next to me to see my phone, but before I could look at it
"Good morning, darling." There he was, hair still messy, hickeys on his neck to remind you what happened last night
Part 2 “What Are We Doing?”
Pairing: Jungkook × Reader (Y/N)
Genre: Smut | Angst | Brother’s Best Friend | Secret Romance
Rating: 🔞 18+ (Mature Content)
The morning light streamed through the blinds, soft and golden, painting streaks across Jungkook’s bare back as he sat at the edge of the bed, pulling on his shirt.
You were still tangled in the sheets, body sore in the best ways, but your heart pounded with something other than desire now—reality.
“Jungkook...” you said softly.
He turned, hair messy, tattoos visible, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “Yeah?”
“What are we doing?”
He paused, looking at you like he wanted to say a hundred things but didn’t know where to start.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don't regret last night.”
Your chest tightened. “Neither do I. But what if he finds out?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Then I’ll deal with it. I’m not gonna pretend like I don’t want you, Y/N. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
Your breath hitched. “Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“Because you’re my best friend’s little sister,” he said, voice low. “That used to mean ‘hands off.’ But now... now I don’t think I can pretend anymore.”
Silence.
The kind that buzzed in the air and made your stomach twist.
You nodded slowly. “So what happens now?”
He walked back over, leaned down, and kissed your forehead—gentle, unhurried. “We keep this just between us… for now. If that’s what you want.”
You hesitated—then nodded.
You wanted this. You wanted him.
A week later...
The secret burned deliciously behind every stolen glance, every brush of his hand when no one was looking. At your brother’s apartment, Jungkook acted like nothing had changed—but when your eyes met across the kitchen, you both knew.
“Hey, Y/N,” your brother called. “Can you hand me another beer?”
You walked past Jungkook, brushing your fingers along his as you grabbed the drink from the fridge.
He smirked behind his bottle, lips barely moving as he whispered, “You look good in that dress.”
Heat spreads through you instantly. You turned to leave—only to feel a sharp tug on your wrist.
He pulled you into the hallway when no one was watching, pressing you against the wall.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispered, lips brushing yours. “I swear I almost kissed you in front of him.”
You bit back a smile. “Would’ve made things real awkward.”
His hands slid down your waist, fingers gripping your thighs. “You think I care?”
“Jungkook,” you warned playfully. “He’s just in the other room.”
“Then stay quiet,” he growled, pushing your leg up around his waist.
And you did.You stayed quiet—biting your lip to keep from moaning as he kissed down your neck, his hand sliding up your thigh beneath your dress. It was fast, desperate, risky. The kind of mistake you’d make a thousand times if it meant feeling him like that.
Just as things started to heat up, your brother shouted from the living room, “Yo! Jungkook, you good?”
Jungkook pulled back, panting, pupils blown. “I will be,” he whispered with a devilish grin.
He winked and walked out like nothing happened—leaving you breathless, burning, and aching for more.
To be continued....
Thanks for all the support already. I'm almost done with the next part so might be a double post today.
Author’s Note: Welp, this ended up way longer than I plannedXD Sorry for the delays but I hope y’all like it and please please please gimme ALLLLLL the feedback! Been a while since I wrote and very nervous haha XD
Summary: Y’all have been friends for 5 years, but there are still sides to him that you’d never imagined. Will his tricks work or push you away?
Pairing: prisonguard!sunoo x inmate!femalereader (mentions of Sunghoon)
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI extreme “Brought the Heat Back” feelings, explicit content, oral sex (f. receiving), breast play, squirting, clit play, praise kink, neck kissing, degradation, unprotected p in v (be smart kids), yandere/obsession themes, secretly monitored self-pleasure, wrongful imprisonment, Y/N glossing over red flags (don’t do this irl pls)
Since the summer before you went into high school, you and Sunoo have been friends. It started when you went to his friend Jake's house for an end-of-middle-school pool party, and you both bonded over judging the annoying tweens around you.
As fate would have it, you ended up having many of the same class periods all throughout high school and grew even closer over several study sessions. Both went solo together to dances but acted like one asked the other when anyone asked to avoid looking pathetic.
That is until the senior year Sadie Hawkins dance. A new student had joined the roster and immediately became the focal point of school for you. His name was Sunghoon, and he was the right amount of reserved and sarcastic to give you heart eyes.
Despite your nerves and insecurities, you worked up the courage to ask Hoon (a nickname he recently accepted after many hangouts together) to the dance. To your surprise, he rapidly accepted your invitation!
Proud of yourself and overwhelmed with excitement, you call Sunoo after school to tell him of this accomplishment and see if he wanted to go shopping with you this weekend.
After a quick snack, you call your best friend, "Hey, Sun-sun, are you busy?" "Nope, Y/N, just avoiding homework, haha. What's up?" "Ohhhhh well, nothing much except I asked Hoon to the dance, and he said yes! Can you believe that???".
Deafening silence extinguishes your enthusiasm as quickly as it sparked, "Um, Sunoo...you there?"
A couple more seconds pass, and he says, "The call is still going, isn't it?" With a scoff, you retort, "Oh, excuse me, sassy king, it was hard to tell when you made no indication that you heard me."
He has the nerve to get offended and goes, "Sorry if I didn't clap for joy at the fact that for the first time since we came to this shithole, I'll have to stay home for a dance. I mean, whoopee for you, but you gave me no warning that you'd abandon me like this."
You are speechless. It's the last reaction you expected, and now you feel bad for not at least letting him know. "I... I'm not sorry I asked him, but I apologize for not setting you up or warning you first. I can try to hook you up with my friend if you want!" "No, it’s fine. Have fun. I have to get started on homework. Talk to you later. Unless you forget all about me...”
With that, he hangs up and leaves you stunned, sitting on your bed slack-jawed. You honestly thought he would be happy for you. Feeling lost, you call your friend Ara, "I have no idea why he would react that way. Can you believe that?!"
She gives a disappointed sigh, then says, "I actually can. Imagine if he gave you no heads up and sprung on you having a date to the dance. And don't even pretend like that'd be okay with you, girl.”
Dejectedly, you admit that she’s right and just can’t get over the intensity of his reaction, to which Ara says, “Oh come on, you can’t be this clueless... he has had a crush on you forever.” “WHAT? Noooo, don’t give me false hope like that.”
She snorts. “Heh, you finally admit it. You have a thing for him! Well, it looks like you have to choose. Pretty new boy or tried and true rock?”
Pondering her words, you make a plan of action, “Hmmm, well, I may never get lucky enough for a guy like Hoon not to reject me, so I’ll stick with that, and then next week, I’ll tell Sunoo how I feel.”
Giving a hum of approval for your plan, Ara warns you not to play with either boy’s emotions or neglect your own. “Do what makes you happy, Y/N; whoever you don’t choose will just have to deal.”
Meanwhile, Sunoo avoids you like the plague for the next week, even going so far as to switch lab partners.
All of that is almost forgotten once the day of the dance finally arrives. You feel like the prettiest vampire queen in a floor-length ruby-toned number that lays perfectly off your shoulders and hugs all the right places.
After Hoon's mom drops you off, the night is a blur. A magical blur where he indeed must be a prince in another life with how well he is treating you. After a couple of slow songs with y'all almost kissing, you excuse yourself to the restroom to try to settle your nerves and try to summon some courage.
You exit, and upon reaching the hallway, you see Sunoo. He looks awestruck, and you blush. "Hey, Y/N, I'm really sorry. I overreacted, and well, I miss my friend. Will she accept me back?"
Pretending to think, you finally smirk and say, "I suppose I will accept your apology. I missed you too!" After tightly embracing each other, he steps back and says, "Well, my beautiful bestie, you wanna head back in and ditch Mr. Stuck Up? The chaperones are dissociating, so I'll be able to sneak in no problem."
You back away, upset, "First off, flattery won't get me to allow you to talk badly of him or convince me to sneak you in. Secondly, he is not stuck up; he is just still fairly new and reserved. Once you give him a chance, you'll see he is really cool!"
Rolling his eyes, he walks away, waving you off, "Have fun with my replacement. I'll see you around, maybe.."
In shock, you are frozen in the shadows when Hoon comes to find you. "There you are. You were gone so long that I got worried about you and had to come look for you. Everything okay?"
Smiling away the tears threatening to ruin your makeup, you nod and head back inside. You try to enjoy the rest of the dance, but the look in Sunoo's eyes haunts your memory.
It was like when he got picked last for dodgeball and by the opposite team, not even by you, but more intense and frightening if you're honest.
After graduation, you hear he got accepted to the security guard training program at the local jail while you were still waiting to hear back from your photography internship. It was annoying, but you try to hope it'll still happen.
The park was quiet for once, so you head over to take some more nature shots in your free time. Panning over to the left of you, a figure comes into focus, coming towards you. Shockingly, you see Sunoo smiling in your direction, and anxiety freezes you in place.
"Hello, stranger," he quips as he sits beside you on the bench. You scoot away from him, annoyed that he was so lighthearted when he was the one who parted ways.
"Can I help you, Mr. Kim?" "Why so formal? It's just me, Y/N." Crossing your arms, you look the other way and say, "Well, I don't tend to act friendly to people who walk out of my life for stupid reasons."
Pouting, he gets up suddenly, leaving you even more confused than before, then reappears about 5 minutes later with two cups in his possession. "All right, peace treaty apple juice. Let’s forget about all the high school silliness and share this with me before I go off to training.”
Almost denying his request, you realize how dehydrated you are and say fuck it downing the whole thing.
Not even 5 minutes pass, and you start to feel weird. You are barely able to convey this to Sunoo before you pass out. Unable to tell how long you were out, you awaken to being handcuffed and shoved in a police car.
Through half-open eyes, you scan around for Sunoo or anyone you know, but all you meet are the blinding sirens, which only make the pounding in your head worse.
The entire ride to the processing center, your mind is racing, trying to figure out how you got in this predicament, and freaking out because your independent life has only just begun and you had so many plans!
They bring you in and take your mugshot. Nobody is telling you what is happening, assuming you are only playing naïve to pull one over on them.
Going down the hall of multiple holding cells, the current inmates look just as confused as you feel, wondering what such a young girl is doing in this wretched place.
Distracted with your thoughts, you practically are thrown into a tiny room with just a bed, sink, and a hole to use the bathroom with no windows.
About to ask why you were not given the option for a call or are being separated from the rest of the people (not that you were upset, but it was worrying you how dangerously you were being treated), the female guard shoves you into the room and slams the door in your face with a "Shut the fuck up you waste of space."
Seems like around 3 days have passed. The only way you can tell is because you have been given 6 meal trays and heard from your trek to your room on the first day, inmates being upset they only get 2 meals daily.
While you are still confused about why the hell you are in this place, your strategy at this point is just to do as you are told and try to stay low until you can speak to someone with legitimate authority.
With this new mindset, the rest of your body is returning to normal, which is mostly a good thing...
The exception is your libido. It has returned with a vengeance, and once the lights go out on the 4th day, you decide to risk it not having spotted a camera yet.
Between your regular sex drive and all of the unfairness and frustrations with your situation, you cannot hold back any longer.
Right before you are about to hit your climax, you hear the keys in your door and freeze.
Pretending to sleep, you roll over onto your side and stick your fingers in your mouth to hide the smell of your sex, hoping they will buy that you still soothe yourself this way as an almost adult.
The door swings open, and you hear the footsteps approach you. You try to keep breathing normally even though you are terrified. The figure above you chuckles, and your heart plummets.
You try to convince yourself you are going insane, but there is no denying it once you hear the voice say, "Now, when did you start sucking your fingers when you sleep? In all of our sleepovers, I have never seen you do that."
You shoot up and start bawling, finally letting your body release all of the emotions that have been pent up since this whole ordeal began. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down into a tight embrace. Big mistake.
As he stands back up, he notices the sweat along your hairline from your previous activity and widens his eyes in concern, "Oh no, Y/N, do you feel okay? Are you getting a fever? You felt warm just now."
Blushing quicker than ever, you fervently shake your head in denial, "No, Sun-sun, I feel fine; was just a little warm, I promi-“
He cuts off your sentence by grabbing ahold of your chin and tilting your head up as he moves even closer to your ear whispering “Don’t lie to me when I saw everything you needy slut.”
Your eyes widen in horror, and confusion clouds your brain again as you look at him through your peripheral vision, "Wait, what do you mean? How? Why am I in here?"
Sinisterly chuckling, he gives you his cheeky smile. "Patience, I'll answer your questions and then help you with your little dilemma. Terribly sorry to interrupt, by the way, but you looked so sinful that I was hoping to catch you in the act." "Um, and what makes you think I would've let you? Or even needed your help?"
Sitting on the bed with you, he quirks up an eyebrow, "Slow down, I still haven't answered the first round of questions."
Pouting, you sit back against the wall and hold your knees to your chin, a medley of unpleasant feelings swirling in your gut.
Tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, he begins addressing your queries. "Okay so I may have commandeered the feed from your camera into a personal monitor so I can keep an eye on you. No biggie between friends, right?"
Your face turns red at him, using that title from when he went to M.I.A. for weeks after graduation. "How dare you..." you scowl at him. "Oh, now calm down, drama queen, so I can continue with my answers."
Begrudgingly, you do so but not without a lethal side eye aimed at the wall, slightly scared to direct it his way.
You never thought your friend would spy on you or call you a slut and aren’t keen to find out what other secrets are lying in wait.
Continuing his replies, “I know you would’ve let me because even if you try to deny it, we both have had feelings for each other since week one. As to you needing my help, I know you had everything perfectly under control but I feel like you crave more than your fingers kitten.”
Not daring to speak when he clocked your shit so accurately and your face looks like a tomato, you just hide your face. "Knew it." He states smugly. "Alright, on to the next matter: why are you here? It's all thanks to me, of course."
Slowly, you raise your head in horror as your entire body shakes. Scooting back as much as possible, you ask, "Wait, you are playing a trick on me, right? There is no reason for you to do that. Nice try, dude.."
He stands up and starts pacing around the room, "Oh, I had my reasons. First, things were getting too serious with that Hoon guy, and I didn't like it. And you might have found out you got accepted to a photography internship, which would take you away from me, and that can't happen...not yet. So, I would check your mail before you and only take out mail from the places you applied."
You stand up now with fists balled up at your sides. "What are you going on about? Not yet? Why don't you want me to be happy?" you scream at him with tears running down your face for the second time tonight.
As he approaches you, he wipes a tear from your cheek and kisses your forehead, "Oh darling, you still don't get it. I want nothing more than for you to be happy. Just not without me and not before I unlock the key to your tight pussy that I've dreamt about for years."
You freeze, staring at the wall, "What did you do? You still haven't answered why I got thrown in here and treated like a villain. Tell. Me. Now."
He sits you down on the bed again, looking down as if you were a rat caught in his trap. Which you were, by the way.
He squats down, staring into your soul as he reveals the remaining puzzle pieces. "Well, I got accepted into this place as a star trainee with excellent scores. They basically told me to use my best judgment and make them proud. My parents were not thrilled that I hadn't pursued a more upstanding career choice, so I wanted to prove to them that I could thrive here. You just happened to be the perfect muse to show them all my skills."
Taking a deep breath and looking too excited to finish relaying this info to you, he continues, "Well, when I spotted you in the park looking dejected but having that trying-to-distract-yourself look in your eyes, I knew it was my time to strike. I expertly mixed apple-flavored alcohol in the juice and then 'spilled' some on myself. I called a couple of buddies in the force to come over and help execute my plan."
All of your tears have dried up as you are burning up, wondering who the person is in front of you. "Don't worry, it gets better," he says as he pats your knee.
Cracking his neck, he nears the end of his story. "So basically, you are in here because I made you look like an underaged alcoholic by having the empty bottle right next to you, then lying to the officers and saying you were pressuring me to drink with you. Oh, also, you were trying to sell shots to our classmates and even the middle schoolers. They are so worried about this getting out with the mayoral election coming up and your parents being his friends that they aren’t allowing any visitors or calls from or for you until the sentencing.”
You stand up, knocking him on his ass in fury, "How could you?! If you had just told me how you felt ages ago, you could have gotten what you wanted instead of keeping it in and becoming this creepy psychopath! I demand a lawyer!”
He cackles while fully lying down on the floor, "You have no pull, sweetheart, but nice try, hah! Even your parents aren’t asking about you, hoping this all blows over and they can maintain their perfect image."
With his eyes closed, still laughing, you cage him beneath you and start to choke him. This time, he freezes and smirks up at you, "Oh, this is how you wanna play it, huh? Pretending you are furious instead of insanely turned on and hoping this ends with you knowing how I feel inside of you. Cute, really."
You scowl down at him and are about to get off of him when he roughly grabs your hips and pulls you back down onto him. "Oh no, there's no getting out of this. How does it feel finally being able to feel how excited you make me? Honestly, it feels like you are excited, too, with the wet spot you left on me."
Face flushing in embarrassment, you glance at the floor to escape his intense gaze, but all masking ability flies out of the window as soon as he bucks his hips against you, eliciting a breathy whimper from your throat.
The moment it exits your mouth, you bite your lip and try to escape his hold. Or at least you meant to...
Instead, you end up grinding against his hardening cock through both of your pants. Feeling his deep chuckle against your clit, you spasm, and he just grins as he pulls you down to attack your lips with a furiously passionate set of long-awaited kisses, entwining your tongues and both assaulting the other's lips with teasing sucks and bites.
When you finally can pull away and catch your breath, he sits up as you wobbly stand and immediately backs you into the bed with his arms on either side of your head, licking from your collarbone up to your ear lobe, enjoying you moaning his name.
That was the final straw of resolve. It snapped like the tiniest twig in your core, and an animalistic need overwhelmed you as you dug your claws into his back underneath the plain white under-uniform tee that clung to his muscles just right.
Gasping for air, you beg, “Sunoo. Please...I need you.." while trying to undress him.
He smirks while he cocks his head to the side, "You're lucky hearing you beg was my last thread of teasing you leaving. Strip for me, needy whore."
With that, you spring onto your feet like a lithe cat and strip with lightning speed, laying back on the bed with everything exposed down to your arousal-soaked lips.
You usually were shyer, but you couldn't help it after the earlier interruption, plus finding out he felt the same way. You would deal with the red flags after you came.
Staying in his simple yet sexy white tee and dark grey workout pants, he descends like a hawk. He licks a broad stripe from your pussy to your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you cry out and grip his hair to keep your soul from flying out of your body too rapidly.
Immediately, you trap his neck between your thighs, not letting him weasel his way away and tease you for a second more.
He picks up on your neediness, and tongue fucks your velvety cunt whilst moaning into you, letting any insecurity of smelling or tasting weird disappear without a trace.
Rising up on his elbows, he makes a show of licking his lips, leaving his chin shiny with your pleasure, and makes his way up your body so you can taste yourself off of him as he makes circles with his thumb on your growingly sensitive clit.
Feeling your high about to crash upon you, you exhale, "Sunoo, I'm about to." Yet, before you can finish your sentence, he shoves you off of the edge by taking your plump breast into his mouth and matching the pace of his fingers with his tongue around your nipple.
As you cum, he disappears between your thighs again, not wanting to waste a single drop (or leave any evidence) while continuing to squeeze and slap your tits. When he can feel you are getting close again, he quickly makes space between your bodies, causing you to sit up and dig your nails into his thighs, making him moan loudly.
Then he adds salt to the wound by lightly slapping your pussy, making you squirt for the first time all over the bottom of his shirt and dick print.
Straddling him now that he is fully erect is torturous; while you nibble along his neck and behind his ear, you ask, “C’mon Sunoo, I need to feel you in me...please.”
Throwing his head back to allow you to kiss more of his neck, he just smirks and says, “Well, someone is needy tonight...well, you have been such a good little thing for me, I will grant your wish, pretty. First, you have to get up so I can get out of these damp clothes”.
Feeling bold, you raise up just enough to pull down his pants along with his boxers and then straddle him again while he sits up and removes his shirt while kissing and playing with your perfect tits.
After you give him your adorable yet seductive pleading eyes, he stops wasting time. He flips you onto your back again and, with utmost sincerity and care in his eyes, says, “You ready? Stop me if it hurts, okay? I really do care about you.”
Tears welling in your eyes, you nod and subtly pull his hips closer to you. You have liked him for a long time, and despite all of the nasty lust that has occurred tonight, it was weirdly healing at the same time.
He slowly slides the tip in, and after a few seconds, you surprisingly quickly can let him quicken his thrusts and go even deeper, both uttering sensual guttural noises in unison as soon as he bottoms out.
You notice him blush and quirk your eyebrow this time asking what is going on. He looks to the side then admits,” Well, this feels amazing, like even better than I’ve imagined, and I know that sounds cliché, but trust me...that’s a big deal. And well, I don’t think I’ll last much longer, sadly; I want to, but...yeah, sorry..”
Latching your ankles around his hips, you just bite your lips and eyefuck him as a green light, to which he gives you a deep, caring kiss as he slowly hits that sweet spot inside you, resulting in a simultaneous orgasm with the both of you collapsing in sweet bliss.
He cannot stay around too long, or the guard headquarters will get suspicious, but he lingers as long as he can while he tries to rinse out your delicious scent from his clothing.
You have the best sleep that night and are oddly comforted by someone caring that much. You are at peace knowing there are mutual feelings and hoping y'all can date normally once you are released.
Until you are released (about a week later), Sunoo frequently visits your cell of solitude because he is the only guard who can "handle" you. Over time, you become closer and decide that you will finally pursue a healthy relationship once you are free, and he will not have to stalk you anymore.
