bananinhazz

[bananinhazz]

CHERISH (MY LOVE) !

summary: a mismatch in the concept got Jaemin having cuteness aggression.

pairing: idol!jaemin x idol!reader

note: the idol reader is OBVIOUSLY LEGAL and well she doesn’t match the concept of illit and she’s like 23 or sum.

well this wasn’t what you expected as you re-debuted.

they got you singing about a teenage love story, side by side with 17 year olds, at your old age.

being part of a forgotten band wasn’t easy but this wasn’t the outcome you expected.

CLC’s Yujin could, why couldn’t you? Well because her new band didn’t had that childish vibe that yours had and second of all the concept from your previous work mismatched the new one.

well, there you were, acting in a tooth video.

and there was Jaemin taking pictures at everything you did.

you didn’t act childish because you were no child, and also felt weird to try and do that.

“you look just like when we met!” Jaemin took another picture of your hairstyle, giggling like a little girl when he saw the pictures.

you have met at the debut of nct dream and your band, both childish as you were under 17, you used pigtails and ruffle dresses and Jaemin that damn hoverboard.

however you didn’t date since that time, your promotions caught up with the other and you got together by Boom era, a little more grown.

“you’re just too cute” Jaemin looked like a mad man, bleached eyebrows documenting everything so you could post later on your social media.

your personal manager already knew him, as your relationship wasn’t new but the other staff members and bandmates look amused by his antics.

“take a picture of all of us please” Moka smiled and asked, gathering the band, all smiling to your phone in Jaemin’s hands.

once you took the picture everyone scattered to the individual shoots, Jaemin went to pick up the coffee he ordered for the staff and band and you got by yourself with your phone.

you couldn’t help to feel troubled by the pictures, tears building up in your eyes as you saw Iroha and Wonhee smiling almost childishly, Moka, Minju and Yunah looking young as well.

“i look like their mom” was the first thing you sobbed into Jaemin’s arms as soon as he came back announcing the goods he bought on the dining table.

he looked conflicted, caressing your back “why do you say that baby?”

“if it wasn’t for the botox, i would look like their mentor, a trainer” you teared up again, getting attention from the staff but dissipated by Jaemin pulling you aside.

“baby, i would never be half as brave as you to debut again” he said softly “i’ll be too scared to do what you just done and for that i’m the proudest boyfriend”

“i mean, i’m supposed to act my age dressed in this?!” you asked still hysterical but he hugged you tighter.

“i was pushing 17 riding hoverboards to awards with Jisung being a fetus behind me” he joked making you laugh “you look cute and beautiful, but these girls are literally children, i mean those two are”

you saw here he was pointing, showing the younger members sharing a milkshake he specifically asked so they didn’t drink coffee.

“you’re my strong woman whom i raised Jisung with” he kissed your cheek earning a laugh.

[bananinhazz]

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[bananinhazz]

INSATIABLE ✶ jeong jaehyun

SYNOPSIS: "can't close my eyes when i'm with you — insatiable, the way i'm loving you."

after promising you eternity by his side, jaehyun suddenly disappears — leaving you behind, lost and alone. you wander around, spending centuries looking for him, fuelled by the love you carry for him, or maybe is it just for... revenge?

PAIRING: vampire!jaehyun x vampire!reader

GENRE: smut, angst, lovers to enemies!au, historical! & modern!au

WORD COUNT: 21.3k

FEATURING: nct 127, new jeans's minji

CONTAINS: afab reader, a bit of gore, mentions of tragedies and deaths, minor character deaths. orphan reader, mentions of wealth. pandemics and diseases, historical content combined with modern content, many flashback scenes. schumann's fantasie op 17 (which i highly recommend listening to), unprotected penetrative sex, nipple play, biting, bulge kink, feet, blood (trust the process!), dry humping, riding, creampie. some historical accuracies (dates), physical altercation. inspired by insatiable by darren hayes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i love this fic so much my heart literally hurts! also, listen — i know romantic things didn't go this way in the 1800's, but for the sake of the plot we'll have to overlook a bit of the inaccuracies <3 thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this fic to drop, i love all of you and i hope you enjoy reading it! <3

©️ KONGJJEN 2024 - 2025. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

You’ll never forget the day you woke up in bed, your heart clenching in your chest without an apparent reason. You’ll never forget the way you walked your way out of your chambers with uncertain steps, curious yet fearful of finding out something you weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

You’ll never forget the way your stomach dropped the moment you checked Jaehyun’s chambers looking for him, and not finding him there. Because you felt like something was wrong, but you never thought Jaehyun would disappear like the earth split and swallowed him whole, leaving no trace of his existence up to that point. 

You wanted to tell Jaehyun about the feeling you woke up with, looking for his loving reassurance that it was all in your head, or just one of your usual hunches you usually got even before you were given a reason to have one in the first place. It was like a premonition, a gut feeling so strong that you wondered what was going to happen during said day, — that you still had no idea about but you knew something was going to pop up.

And Jaehyun was nowhere to be found. With the curtains open, the gloomy light from outside bathed the room in greyness, no ray of sunshine in sight on the white sky, so concomitant with the turmoil inside your head, stomach, inside of every fibre of your being.

You looked around his chambers, trying to see if it was all in your head. But seeing how his stateroom trunk wasn’t in the far corner of the room, seeing how his shirts and leather shoes were missing, some of his books were nowhere to be found — you knew that it was not in your head.

Your feet were quick to take you downstairs before you could even register what you were doing. You were still in your night gown as you entered the kitchen, where you found your female maids preparing breakfast, and they all shuddered as your hurried entrance took them by surprise.

“Norma,” you called your senior maid, the most loyal woman in your service, “Did you see Master Jaehyun?” Your tone was fearful, worried, and it trembled with emotion.

You saw Norma straightening her posture, putting her wooden spoon down, “I haven’t, Mistress,”

You looked around the kitchen, not knowing what needed to be done next, or who you needed to talk to.

“But I can talk to Jeger, to see if he knows anything,” she offered, drying her hands on a cloth found around on the counters. 

“Please do,” you instructed, leaving the kitchen to go back to your chambers upstairs.

How and when during the night did Jaehyun manage to get out of a house full of people? The servants in their respective chambers, the handyman’s own room downstairs by the foot of the stairs, the old wooden floors and stairs creaking even when the wind blew a bit more forcefully, so you wondered just how did he manage to walk around unnoticed. But most importantly, why did he leave?

You knew who Jaehyun was — most importantly, what he was, — and it took you months of convincing him to turn you into one as well. You remember how adamant he was at the time, so much that every time you insisted on it, it lead to a fight. “You’re too young,” and “You still need time to live,” were his excuses. Excuses that had you moaning at him and that ended with you picking up a fight with him every single time, of course.

“Tell me one good reason why not?” You barked at him, moving your hands around yourself, making your gown’s pliers shift with your gestures.

Jaehyun looked at you, and you could see you were exasperating him. With his jaw set, he took his sweet time to calm himself before he opened his mouth to give you an answer. 

That’s how you knew he was trying to maintain his composure with you. He always took too long before answering every single time you asked him something that made him uncomfortable or that was pushing his buttons. 

“You need to live, Y/n,” he explained, combing a hand through his hair. “To live more, that is,” he corrected himself, avoiding your gaze.

You scoffed, “What makes you think I won’t be living if you transform me?” You asked him, your voice not above a whisper. 

“Please, Y/n,”  he pleaded, closing his eyes. “I love you, I really do,” he started, like this should have been enough of an answer for you to drop it, “And you’ll live if I transform you, but you won’t be alive,” he tried to make you come to reason, “I need you to stop asking for this. If I ever feel like it’s a good idea, you will know it,” and with that, he exited the dining room, stairs creaking under his heavy steps.

Jaehyun was not one for confrontation. He liked peace, he liked silence. Maybe it was because of his overly sharp senses, but he knew everything going on, he heard whispers and rustling, he smelled a person from metres away, he smelled disease before people registered something was wrong. 

He was lonely, he found his own peace by being in a luxurious manor house, with a few people around to help him with all the chores and matters around the property. 

Norma, the most amazing and loyal woman you have ever met. She was loyal to Jaehyun at first, and consequently to you as well, once you moved in. She took care of the house, of every other woman in your service, disciplining and training them to accommodate with the requirements of her precious Master Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun was a good person, he never denigrated anyone in his service, but he liked things a certain way, and Norma was the only person around the house to really understand Jaehyun without him having to tell her anything. A slouched back meant that Master Jaehyun’s muscles hurt, furrowed brows meant he needed time alone in his library, talkative Master Jaehyun meant he was at peace with a decision he had taken. 

She was what Jaehyun already started to consider as family, he could lift a finger for her to notice and she would understand in a heartbeat what his message for her was, bring me my shoes, or get me a cup of tea, tell Jeger to get the horses ready. She loved Jaehyun as if he were her own child, she dedicated her life to be in his service, and she never imagined herself in any other household, for the only family she was going to service was Master Jaehyun’s, for as long as he was going to allow her.

Then there was Jeger, his handyman and the only other male around Jaehyun’s estate, he took care of all the handy work around the house and garden, on top of managing the horse stables outside. He was a calm man, he wouldn’t speak unless asked something, but in his silent state he knew everything going on around, he heard the gossip first, he knew what had happened around town way before word got to the very well trained ears of the ladies. 

He reminded you of Jaehyun, with his peaceful and unbothered personality and you still remember how you closed the door to Jaehyun’s library after yourself, your back touching the cold wooden door as you looked at him setting his fountain pen down, looking at you with curious eyes in the dim lighting around the room. He smiled at you, like he knew you would ask him a silly question, one dimple on display as he nodded your way, and you relaxed a bit knowing he was paying attention to you. 

“Is Jeger…” you started, and Jaehyun’s gaze didn’t give anything away, prompting you to go on, expression still as relaxed as before. You gulped, looking around the room, suddenly too aware of your surroundings, “Like you?” You whispered, and you remember thinking at that time, that Jaehyun had only been able to hear your question thanks to his sharp hearing. 

He snorted, shaking his head, and you knew he had the ‘silly girl’ remark on the tip of his tongue. He usually called you this whenever your very rested mind came up with theories and all sorts of questions — which you pestered him with. He admired how driven you were, how interested you were about everything he was, everything surrounding him and his real self. 

“No,” his answer was simple, curt, cut to the chase. His smile was warm, despite the shiver sent down your spine as you watched him leaning back, more comfortably in his chair. 

He pushed his chair back and away from his desk, manspreading as he extended an arm towards you — and you knew he was inviting you into his embrace. 

Your steps were calculated, careful, and you moved gracefully around his sitting figure, folding the pliers of your dress so you could take a comfortable seat on his lap. 

“Why would you think that?” His tone was low, but still gentle, because that’s how Jaehyun was — a gentle soul with a darkness no one could ever find out about. Your gaze met his, his dark irises sparkling even in the dim lighting of the room, as he looked at you. 

“He fits the criteria,” you whispered back, sliding your arms around his neck to embrace his figure better.

“The criteria?” He laughed, nose scrunching up as he shook with a silent laughter, and you felt silly once again. 

“I don’t know, it’s just-” you started, looking around the dimly lit room, “Doesn’t really matter,” you changed your mind, not wanting to let him inside your mind — at least not right now. 

Jaehyun could do a lot of things. He could smell someone very far away from him, he could tell health from disease, he could hear the steps of people walking outside the gates of his mansion — and their heartbeats, — he could hear the foxes laughing in the neighbouring mansion’s bushes. But he couldn’t read minds, or hear thoughts, and you were always grateful for this. 

Because you knew that it would have driven him insane if he got a preview of your thoughts and the million questions lingering inside your mind every time you looked at him. And you also knew that it was for the best, because knowing that someone could be inside your head, uninvited? It made you shudder in horror. 

Jaehyun’s cold touch lingered on your face, playing with a strand of your long hair. 

“Are you cold?” He inquired, voice barely above a whisper, and he looked at your luscious locks between his fingers. “Go tell Jeger to take care of the fire in your chambers, you need to stay warm,” he instructed, and you did exactly as he said.

Jaehyun could never feel the cold, he let you know when you were freezing — teeth chattering and goosebumps all over your body, and he was absolutely fine. This was one of the downsides of being like this, he had to be very aware of everyone around himself, paying attention to their body language to see if they were cold or not — because otherwise he wasn’t able to really tell, and it could give him away, or at least it was going to raise some question marks. 

And another thing you noticed before he turned you was that the room got cooler the moment he stepped in. Fires burning in almost all chambers, yet his presence was still making everyone shiver slightly, but only for a bit, their bodies accommodating to the feeling immediately, unsuspecting that their Master Jaehyun was some sort of dark creature many thought to be fictitious — or extinct.

Jaehyun could be sleeping close to a fire yet his flesh remained pale and freezing. His freezing touch woke you up every single time he caressed you when he spent the night in your chambers, but you learnt to live with it, especially after dropping the whole trying to convince him to turn you into a vampire as well. 

Jaehyun didn’t need much sleep. Even when your exhausted self hit the comfortable bed, he would simply lay next to you, quiet as ever as he spent the entire nights watching over your sleeping figure. He usually slept on alternate days, making everyone around the house think that he was ill, with Norma taking extra care of him — and him nibbling on her food like usual. But you knew. You knew his nibbling wasn’t because he got sated easily, he craved something else, something to really calm his appetite down.

He watched you while you ate, and his heart felt content. He missed the way food felt inside his body, inside his stomach, — how the winters brought him an appetite for meat, yet fruits always tickled his tastebuds during summers. He craved it, he was yearning to be able to feel the joys of being alive at least once again, and looking at you doing all the things he couldn’t do anymore, it brought him joy. He was living through you. 

And during that terrible morning, you were left suffocating as you stood at the foot of your canopy bed, your mind kept wandering to the past to try and find an answer to your unanswered questions — looking for anything, a hint that might have led up to this moment, up to Jaehyun leaving you behind like he tore your chest open and took your own being along with him. 

Your night gown floated around your figure as you took rapid steps down the stairs once again, this time going to the only other chamber Jaehyun had ever claimed to be his sacred space, his library. Jaehyun might have relished into silence and unspoken words and agreements between the two of you, but you knew he had left something behind for you to find.

With Norma nowhere to be seen, somewhere outside with Jeger, you entered the library, and the first surface you checked out was his desk. Books scattered around, his favourite feather pens placed neatly next to each other on the side of the desk, exactly how he liked keeping them. No item was really misplaced, nothing that could be giving away a reason for his leaving. 

Yet your eyes skipped to the small drawer under the desk, that was now ajar, and you pulled on it to have full access to its contents. 

And like something was making your freezing body suddenly heat up, although impossible, your eyes landed on a piece of rag paper, on which Jaehyun’s pretty and neat handwriting was scribbled down. Your hands trembled as you reached for the letter, and your breath hitched in your throat as you read the first line.

“My dearest Y/n. 

The fountain pen feels heavy in my hand, and the ink staining my skin burns through every fibre of my flesh as I write you this — only a minuscule part of all the unspoken words I have never told you, a minuscule part of what I would be dying to let you know, if that was physically possible. Although I cannot feel it, I am certain my heart feels heavy right now, and I would love to be able to feel this one more time, including the consuming love I carry for you. You, through whom I have lived for so long up until this point.” Your eyes were brimming with tears, yet you paid them no attention, and your patience started running thin — with every fibre of your being itching to latch onto every single word of his. 

“My love for you cannot be sated, for you have always been my sole priority and desire, and being with you has always felt like the life that was once stolen away from me has returned back to me. Whenever you breathed, my lungs did too, whenever you slept next to me, my mind rested as well. The candy sweetness scent of you — it bathes my skin, I’m stained in you — for every time you showed me love, I felt alive once more, for sure. I am leaving you behind today, but not our love, for I am certain that we will find each other some day, again. With the hope of seeing your pulchritudinous eyes once more some day, I am leaving everything that is mine to you, as I am sure no amount of time apart can make us forget who we are and what we represent to each other. I shall wander for centuries looking for you, if it meant I would be once again feeling your ardent love, and we shall meet again if we are meant to be with each other until the end of times, the way I promised to you. I can barely close my eyes when I am with you — insatiable, the way I am loving you. And I shall not rest until we meet again. 

Not sure how I will manage to be away from you for what already feels like might last an eternity, but please look for me, until we find each other again.

Forever and only yours, Master Jaehyun.”

Your lip quivered as you read his note once more, hoping to find something different, a different ending, different sentences laced with love and devotion but this time for it not to be a farewell.

You looked at his name, the detail and soft precision with which he signed his name down, and you grabbed the page, bringing it to your chest. You were short of breath, and you felt the room spinning, the words you just read finally sinking in.

A screeching shout escaped past your lips, and you fell to your knees, bending forward as you kept the page to your chest, forehead touching the wooden floor.

In the midst of all your crying and screaming, ears ringing, in the midst of all the suffering, in the midst of all your sorrow — you still heard hurried and heavy steps approaching the room you were in. 

“Mistress!” You heard Norma’s voice, you acknowledged it, yet you didn’t move an inch. You heard the rustling of Norma’s skirts as she grabbed them with urgency, right before you heard a thud, someone plunging next to your aching body, and you knew Norma fell to her knees by your side. 

Worried out of her mind, she grabbed you by the shoulders, lifting you up a bit, “Oh, dear heavens!” She exclaimed with horror, seeing your tears. She was making her way around the house looking for you, not knowing how to break the news to you — one of the carriages was missing and Jeger couldn’t find two horses. But judging by the room she found you in, and your state of despair, she knew you were aware of what was going on. Master Jaehyun had left.

She overlooked the red tears flowing down your pale cheeks — landing on your white night gown, staining it, — she overlooked your freezing body as she grabbed you and brought you to her chest.

 “It’s okay, my child!” She consoled you, kissing your temple as you kept shaking in her arms, cries of despair still leaving you like a poor hurt animal.

 And that’s exactly what you were, a creature that lost its maker, someone who you loved more than you thought was possible. You felt dead, despite who you really turned out to be thanks to Jaehyun, this was the first time you really felt death seeping through you. 

Your head fell heavy on Norma’s chest, accepting her touch and love, because she had just become the only person you could rely on.

You first met Jaehyun at a soiree in your hometown, a town far away from his own.

He was dressed nicely, like a real gentleman. Dark hair on the longer side, combed through and styled with grace, he carried himself like he was the most impeccable person on earth and the most important person in that room. And he actually was. 

Ladies whispered as he walked his way around, grinning and hiding their crass expressions behind expensive hand fans, — but you noticed their eyes, the vulgar way they looked at him, and then your gaze landed on him, noticing how unbothered he was, like they weren’t even there.

In all honestly, you wish you never went to that soiree. The youngest daughter of a nobleman was playing the piano in the corner, trying to show off her skills, only to have her fingers stumbling over themselves, messing the melody. You were mortified looking at her crimson cheeks while she tried to keep her calm, knowing that many pairs of eyes were on her like vultures on an agonising body right before becoming a corpse. 

The sole heiress to the fortune your late parents left behind, you went to the soiree hoping to make new friends, perhaps meet the piano teacher many people talked about around town. Word travelled fast, and apparently there was a new piano teacher in town, of extremely advanced competences — fingers floated gracefully on top of the keyboards, seemingly barely touching them, sharp precision mesmerising anyone who heard the melody, and you wondered if there was truth to it — your interest was definitely piqued.

The day you lost your parents felt like a part of you died as well. You were their only child, they showered you with love, and while your mother raised you to be a great woman, your dad introduced you to the beauty of arts. 

He paid the best teachers, and if the ones he found around town weren’t good enough in his eyes, he sent your household’s servants to the neighbouring towns as well, promising carriage rides and good pay to whomever satisfied his needs for a competent teacher for his daughter. Only the best teachers crossed the threshold of your house, and taught you literature, the art of painting, and music. Your talent for playing piano was described as being innate, your piano teachers quickly realised what they had on their hands, the pieces escalating quickly to the hardest ones. 

You were your father’s pride and joy, and you were quite famous around town — known for your abilities in music. Piano meant the world to you, music carried you, inspired you, motivated you into hoping you would be tied to it in the future, that you would become someone whose whole being revolved around music and piano.

And when the world was ready to bow at your feet, as you had embarked on a new, staggering journey with an even more competent piano teacher, tragedy struck, ruining all your plans and your life all together. 

By losing your parents, the great loves of your life at that time, you also lost your passion for music — you lost your identity, your love for the subject. Grief consumed you, and it made you give up on your talent. Burying two parents as a young woman made something shift inside of you, the cold shower of the reality of being an orphan washing over you like freezing water. You were supposed to make a name for yourself, albeit you knew it was going to be hard — but not impossible to do so; you were supposed to live life alongside your parents long enough to have your father decide whom you should have married. And it was all taken away from you. 

A wrongly pressed piano key made you shudder with horror, but it was enough to take you out of your own thoughts. You found it very easy to lose yourself into the memories of the past, happier times — the ones in which your life was peaceful and orderly.

You looked around yourself, looking for the silhouette that had the whole ballroom exchanging glances, but he was nowhere to be found. Another wrongly pressed key made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you knew you had to gracefully save the poor lady playing the piano.

Your steps were careful, your hand fan closed as you got closer to her silhouette in the corner of the ballroom, and you touched her back, making her jolt in her seat at the unexpected contact, interrupting her playing.

“Miss Y/L/N!” She exclaimed excited, standing to her feet. “Did you want to play?” She asked you, tone full of airy innocence as she pointed at the piano next to her.

Did you want to play? No, you actually wanted to save her from a future disastrous performance as she got deeper into the piece laid in front of her eyes.

A few people you knew well from around town started amassing around the two of you, their ears perking up at the mention of you playing the piano, but you kept your focus on the young woman in front of you.

You shook your head, smiling at her, “I actually wanted to compliment you for choosing this piece! It’s a hard one!” You complimented her, because you knew how hard the piece she chose could be for someone at her level, skills not fully developed yet. You really knew you were saving her from embarrassment, because the piece was going to become progressively more demanding, and she was already tired — yet you still hoped you didn’t come across as phoney for doing so.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N,” she blushed, smile slowly creeping on her face, “I aspire to be like you one day!” She whispered, averting her gaze, not knowing if the words that impulsively got past her lips were going to touch a nerve. 

You smiled at her, somehow fluttered at her words. “Thank you, Lady Mirabella,” you grabbed her hands, giving them a quick squeeze as you took her shyness in.

“Miss Y/L/N!” Lady Mirabella’s father was the one calling your name, taking a few steps amidst the crowd surrounding you and his daughter, and he shook your hand in greeting. “Please play something for us! It would be an honour to have you playing Mirabella’s new piano, and it shall be auspicious to her learning!”

You looked around yourself, and then you looked at the piano. You nodded slightly, not being able to refuse the nobleman — a good friend of your father’s — and just the thought of him made you think of the piece you used to love the most.

It had been two years since your father perished, and two years since you didn’t even bother throwing a look at the piano sitting in the parlour of your mansion. You learned this piece for your father, because you knew it was a hard challenge for you to take onto, and you wanted to make him proud. You were glad that he got the chance to hear you play it a few times, at least.

You took a seat at the piano, careful with your beautiful rosy dress that complimented the pallor of your skin and the blushing of your cheeks. 

Dead silence surrounded you, with everyone holding their breaths as they observed you — the town’s piano prodigy, making a comeback after years of not playing. Some were new in town, curious as ever to hear you play and see for themselves if the rumours were true, others knew what to expect safe for the piece you were going to play.

Closing your eyes and taking a big breath in, the gracious movements of your fingers lulled the melody around the room, reaching everyone’s ears and hearts. 

Even as one of the hardest pieces to have been discovered in the last decade, you knew it by heart. No music sheet needed, your muscle memory was strong, and the melody transported you a few years back, imagining what life used to be like when you were at your peak with your talent — when your father sat in his armchair next to your piano in the parlour, listening to you.

The hairs on the back of your neck raised, and a freezing breeze ran through you, covering your skin in goosebumps, yet it was so brief that you blamed the emotional turmoil inside of you, caused by this melody.

You opened your eyes, gaze fixed on your working fingers, trying to remain inside your own bubble and focus on the moment. The tens of pairs of eyes that were fixing you didn’t matter, yet you felt someone’s gaze piercing your whole being. 

You raised your gaze briefly, eyes pointed directly where you knew the keen pair of eyes following you with ardent curiosity were situated, and then you saw him. Jaehyun was looking at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he heard the melody that graced his hearing, intrigued by your technique. 

But you didn’t pay attention to him any longer, your attention returning to the task at hand, and it didn’t take you much longer to know it was time to end the show. You appreciated having taken on the offer to play for a bit, but you couldn’t keep everyone busy for about half an hour to play the entire piece, and when you felt like it was a good moment to cut it off, you did.

You thanked everyone who complimented you, exchanging courtesies with everyone who approached you briefly, but you decided it was time to actually leave, sending word for your carriage to pick you up.

Wearing your matching paletot on your shoulders, you exited the hall, fingers still wrapped around your hand fan as you waited for your carriage to appear. And then you felt it again, the breeze seeping through your body for a brief moment before going away completely.

A silhouette appeared next to you, and a quick glance with the intention of greeting the gentleman next to you, and you realised he was the stranger from before, the sensational main attraction of the soiree, the very man who stared at your soul while you played.

“Are you perchance a pianist?” He asked, tone low but gentle, laced with curiosity and anticipation.

You gave him a sheepish smile, and you were sure blush was creeping up your features as you looked at the side of his face. His profile was mesmerising. Sharp jaw contouring his face, full lips tempted to let countless other questions past — and he turned his head, locking eyes with you, the pearly irises piercing into your curious ones.

“Am not,” you answered to him, turning your head to look in front of you at the empty and dark street.

“You must be,” he retorted with seriousness, yet the underlying softness in his voice made you look back at him, “That is the hardest piece of piano, not even the greatest pianists can play it fully just yet. But you seemed like you knew it perfectly,”

“I learned it a few years ago,” you explained, not sure why you were even doing so, “I have not played it in a long time,” your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and you hated how you opened up to a complete stranger after not caring about socialising for the past few years, relishing into your loneliness.

“You are very modest for being one of the greatest pianists I have ever had the pleasure of listening to, Miss Y/L/N,” a soft smile stretched across his features, and dimples formed in the plush of his cheeks. 

You threw him a look, suddenly realising just how many times the word ‘pianist’ had been thrown around in the span of a few minutes, and you remembered about the new pianist in town, and wondering who that might have been. You were sure you were laying your eyes on him in flash and bones, right that moment.

“Are you a pianist, perchance?” You were positively sure he was, but you asked out of courtesy nonetheless. 

“I am, indeed,” he smiled your way, looking down at your curious self, holding his hands behind his back, “I will be Miss Mirabella’s teacher for the summer, thus I will be seeing you around,” he explained, and you found tonight’s act to be a horrifying orchestration against Mirabella. You were almost positive her father made her showcase her abilities in front of everyone just so the new piano teacher could assess her promising talent, not thinking about the difficulty of the piece or how disastrous it was going to end when his daughter was inevitably going to get tired and mess everything. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” his words snatched you out of your own thoughts once again, as he heard a carriage approaching, and he knew it was yours. 

He moved around your figure, reaching your right side as the carriage stopped in front of you, and he made a gesture to the footman, moving his hand to indicate he wasn’t needed. Jaehyun extended a hand towards the carriage’s door, opening it while extending his free hand to you, offering his assistance to get you safely inside the vehicle.

You looked down at his hand, and your warm hand touched his, but his touch almost made you retract your hand. It felt like touching ice, the contrast between your body temperatures astonishing and terrifying at the same time.

He smiled at you one last time before you departed, and you managed to thank him just in time, fearing he wasn’t going to hear you — but little did you know at that time, Jaehyun heard you loud and clear, your voice rang inside his ears for a few more moments as he watched the carriage going farther away from where he was standing. 

That was the night you first met Jaehyun, and he made a great first impression on you.

Making your way around town, followed by your maidservants, you spotted Jaehyun a few more times before he started making conversation with you. Things started off slowly with questions about your passion for piano, and then he wanted to know a bit more about other pieces you knew. 

Jaehyun managed to crawl under your skin, making you feel at ease even through all your solitude. As summer progressed, you convinced him to play the piano for you. You had given up on the practice long ago, and even if during that night at the soiree it was proven to you that you still had your talent and had kept all your abilities still, you didn’t feel comfortable playing again. Yet you would have loved to have someone playing for you, and Jaehyun took onto the opportunity, agreeing to your proposal as soon as the words left your mouth.

Little by little, you felt more and more comfortable around Jaehyun. Little by little, you opened up to him, talking to him about your past, about your love for the arts, for the piano, letting him know how much playing had always meant to you. 

Jaehyun played the piano in your house’s parlour while you observed him, sitting in your father’s armchair. His movements were gentle, comforting, and looking at him brought you peace. Jaehyun played your favourite pieces for you to relish in, and he gave in so easily when you asked him about his own favourite pieces, that you knew he was dying to be asked about. His eyes sparkled while he explained what they meant to him, his dimples were on display every time a fond memory popped up in the middle of your conversations, and your heart took a leap every single time the calmness of his voice graced your hearing.

No amount of meet ups with him could prepare you for the freezing air you felt around yourself every single time he walked into your house, or a room. No amount of scorching summer days briefly interrupted by a fleeting cold shock through your body could explain the phenomenon to you. You remembered how you felt it that night at the soiree, as well as the moment when he came outside to keep you company while waiting for your carriage, and then every single time you met him, coincidentally or planned. 

Yet you never raised a brow, you never questioned him about it. You couldn’t explain the phenomenon, and at some point you thought that it could mean you were falling in love. Maybe it was an effect of falling in love with Jaehyun? But then other circumstances weren’t matching up with this theory. 

Jaehyun became a constant in your life, and you in his. Jaehyun felt more alive when he was with you than he had ever felt actually being alive one hundred years ago. With the body of a twenty-two year old man, and the soul nearing a centenary, all Jaehyun wanted was for you to accept him and be by his side for eternity.

Did he want to tell you what he was? Yes. Did he want to eventually turn you as well? Not really, at least not at first. 

You were one of the strongest people he had ever met during his very long time roaming the earth, and he knew a few things about knowing people and relocating every twenty or thirty years as not to raise suspicions. He couldn’t take the joy of living away from you, for he knew that he would have wanted to have lived with you for as long as life itself allowed the two you to, but under normal circumstances. Instead, you were alive, literally the sun hanging in the sky, and he was a freezing pale creature that feasted on other humans, — something inside of him told him it was wrong to take the joy of living away from you.

Yet Jaehyun wanted to be selfish for once, and he decided he would eventually turn you if that was what you wanted. If he couldn’t have normality with you, he was going to have eternity by your side — one way or another.

And as the summer passed, the fleeting looks and lingering affectionate touches led to Jaehyun not being able to let go of you. By the time his time as Miss Mirabella’s teacher was up at the end of the summer, he took you away with him, back to his town.

Surprisingly to him, you didn’t need too much time to get talked into doing it, because he knew that for a young woman like you were, with the great wealth your parents left you, moving in with a man that wasn’t your husband wasn’t normal or socially accepted. But Jaehyun didn’t mind actually marrying you, for he was sure you were the only one for him, but you didn’t even let him finish telling you his plans for the future. 

So you took your belongings, your wealth, you locked your house, and by the time the middle of autumn reached, you had already moved in with Jaehyun in his manor house.

The cold touches, the breeze you felt when he walked in a room, they all started to add up in your head. You noticed how he knew you were walking up to him from the highest floor of the house, down to his library on the ground floor, he knew if you faked sleeping, you swear he knew what the maidservants talked about in the other room. 

But it didn’t actually click in your head until winter came, when you had to leave for a few days to go back to your family’s mansion, and you took Jeger, Norma, and the three other maidservants with you, leaving Jaehyun alone.

Coming back was horrific. Carrying venison and other foods your friends from back home gifted you, you and everyone else were exhausted from the long journey. With the weather outside being one typical to January, with strong and freezing winds, occasional blizzards and heavy cold rain, your body was begging for the warmth of your house. 

Except the house was dark, the fire in every room was dead, and the air around was freezing, almost worse than it was outside. You expected to find Jaehyun frozen to death somewhere in the house, yet your quick steps took you upstairs to his chambers, only to find him sleeping peacefully in his bed, bare torso touching the silky sheets like the whole ordeal was all inside your head. 

“I heard you coming home,” he smiled, moving his head to look at you. You didn’t know he was awake, but you also didn’t know how he managed to sleep in a house that made the point of your nose and your fingertips freeze.

“Where you… sleeping?” You gulped, closing your cloak up to your chin and squeezing your gloved hands together. 

He hummed, showing you a lazy smile. It was time you two had the so long awaited conversation, it was time he let you know. 

Jaehyun heard your voice as soon as the carriage came down the street, up to the gates. He knew you were coming home and you were going to find a freezing house, yet he didn’t bother getting up. It was too late to do anything, anyway. When you left, you said you were going to be away for a few days, up to a week, so he didn’t know when you were going to be home, and in his defense, Jaehyun really had the fires popping in every room of the house, as always. But Jaehyun had also spent the last three days sleeping, not differentiating days from nights, so the fires had died long before, without Jaehyun bothering keeping them alive. He didn’t feel the cold, anyway. 

“How,” you gulped once again, this time taking your gloves off, “How did you manage to do so?” 

Jaehyun extended his hand, calling for you to get closer to him, and with no self preservation instinct, you followed his instructions. Your head was filled with doubts, with worries, with theories that you thought about once in a while, but you shook them off every single time thinking you were being silly. But now the truth was laying bare in front of your eyes, and it looked tempting and like something between life and death.

“Promise me you’ll listen to me,” he pleaded, holding your hand as you sat down on his bed. 

You gulped, breath hitching in your throat, yet you nodded, prompting him to start talking. 

Jaehyun’s voice was laced with emotion and sincerity. At that time, you didn’t know if lying was one of his abilities, but the Jaehyun you grew to love would have never lied to you. 

Every single moment of your life in the months up to that point, you had spent it with Jaehyun, like you couldn’t breathe if you didn’t have him around. Days passed faster with him by your side, nights were slower while he devoted every fibre of his being to you, and you only. You grew to know him very well, even if at that time you weren’t in possession of any of the abilities he, for one, had. 

The image of the two of you discussing right in that moment was funny, you were sure. Jaehyun was naked on his bed, and you were wrapped inside layers of fur and warming fabrics, cloak buttoned up to your chin and every single inch of your body covered. The contrast was visible, and terribly shocking — for if it were for Norma walking in right that time, you were sure she was going to black out.

The more Jaehyun talked, the more he searched your eyes, looking for a sign of just how horrified and full of terror you were. But he found none. As his story progressed, your eyes became warmer, and because Jaehyun couldn’t read your mind, he didn’t know if you were on the brink of passing out, or if you were truly accepting him for what he was. 

He heard your heart beating erratically as he explained to you the circumstances that allowed him to still roam the earth. He heard your heartbeat calming down, steadying itself the more he progressed into his story, and he heard it nearly stop the moment he confessed his deepest feelings to you. Because you knew he was fond of you, you knew he loved you, but he never explicitly said it to you, words waltzing off his tongue with grace, but the look in his eyes glinted with fear. Fear of you running away from him.

His story was complicated, long, but never dull. 

The night he confessed to you, he admitted being almost one hundred years old. Youngest, and only son of a family of ten members, he lost his entire family during the 1780 plague that annihilated his hometown village — and when him and his aunt were the only ones to survive the family that had perished, she made him leave in hopes he found refuge somewhere over the steep hills, inside an abbey.

“I was twenty years old at that time, and she made me promise I would fight tooth and nail in order to survive. I was the only son to be born in my family after generations of daughters, so they always made it clear who their favourite was,” he explained as he walked naked around his chamber, putting a log into the fireplace so you could start getting warm again. 

“Father was the first to die, and then two of my sisters followed. Mother tried quarantining us away, but she fell sick soon after, and her sister had to take me and my other sisters in,” he went on, helping you get off his bed, making you sit down on the armchair by the fireplace. “Then my sisters fell ill and perished two by two, but they had already infected my aunt’s family, and eventually it was just me and her left. She had this leather pouch she prepared for me, with two knives and a bit of bread and cheese to survive off of, and she made me promise I would find the abbey, and that I would lie to them about my origins,”

You nodded, understanding his aunt’s concerns, “They weren’t going to take you in if they knew your village had been infected,” your brows furrowed while looking at the fire.

Jaehyun smiled at you. You were so smart, and he loved you. “It took me a few days, and the hills were surprisingly steep,” his tone was dripping with amusement, nose scrunching while recalling his adventures from decades ago, “But I made it to the abbey, and they took me in,”

“And how did you…” you didn’t finish your sentence, but Jaehyun understood what you meant, nonetheless.

He let out a huff of laughter, “You’re so impatient, my love,” he caressed your cheek, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of the room. 

You puckered your lips out of embarrassment of being called out, but Jaehyun smiled fondly as an answer, and you relaxed into your seat. He was beautiful. The light coming from the fireplace made his features sharper, eyes darker, skin even paler, and you understood you overlooked the signs until that moment, because they were all in the open for you — and anyone else — to see, yet you chose to focus on the wrong suspicions, — like why were you always cold when he made his appearance into a room?

Jaehyun looked exactly like what he was, a vampire. Not that you had met any other up to that point, but the tales, the superstitious stories you had heard suddenly made a lot of sense.

Jaehyun’s cold touch on your warm cheek made you shudder, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“I lived inside the abbey for a few weeks, until the plague reached us there,” he explained, clearing his throat, and you knew it brought bad memories back. “One of the monks inside turned me when he realised the others were dying one by one. I don’t know how he managed to live there so long without anyone being suspicious, but when the plague wrecked havoc inside the abbey I was the only mortal still uninfected by the disease. Monk Noel did me a favour that time, and we burned the abbey down so they wouldn’t know the number of survivors,”

“Where is Monk Noel now?” You whispered, curiosity taking the best of you. You weren’t going to ask about him, but your mouth spoke on its own.

“I don’t know where he is right now, he’s a pretty old creature. If still alive, of course,” he mentioned, biting on his bottom lip. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he seemed like he was thinking about his past. 

“You’re the only person I have opened up to, you’re the only person who knows me to the fullest, right this moment,” he rasped, and if you didn’t know who the man in front of you was, you would have been terrified of the look in his eyes. “Do you think you can accept me for what I am?” He inquired, because it was really eating at him.

Jaehyun opened up to you in hopes it would take a bit of the burden off his shoulders. He wanted to come clean to you ever since he met you, but you were a mortal and you deserved to be allowed to live your life, with no undead creatures interfering.

“Are you going to turn me into one, as well?” You asked him, and the question took him by surprise. But he didn’t let any turmoil of emotions betray him with the way he was looking at you. 

“Do you want me to?” He rasped back to you, tone low but lacking any menacing undertones to it. 

You nodded immediately, because you didn’t need another five years to know you would spend an eternity by Jaehyun’s side. “Yes,” your tone was curt, getting right to the point.

But Jaehyun didn’t like you answer at that time. How could you have been so sure you were really willing to give up your life, your title as a mortal, and a beating, blood-pumping heart? How could you give yourself up so easily?

And after that night, the subject was inapproachable. Jaehyun skived every time he heard your words, sometimes he only needed a good look at you approaching him in his library to know what you were going to talk to him about. 

Jaehyun wanted to transform you, wanted to be with you and teach you everything there was to know, and he wanted to help you fit into a new world, but it had to happen on his terms. He wanted you to taste foods for a bit longer, he wanted you to sleep the nights and dance during the days, for a bit longer. He wanted you to feel the cold and the warmth for a bit longer. 

He was selfish. He was going to let you enjoy mundane life until he decided you were ready to be transformed, not letting you advance too much into your life so your health couldn’t decline because of you nearing your thirties — which at that time meant you were already past the half of your lifespan — and he was going to have you to himself until the end of times.

He wasn’t giving into your pressuring, which drove you insane, yet at some point — you were not sure when — you dropped the incessant asking. Not because you didn’t want him to transform you, but because you realised there was no point in trying to convince him to do something he wasn’t sure he wanted to do. 

You were dying to be let into his world, but you had no power over him and his decisions, so you went on with your normal and boring life.

Days were filled with you and Jaehyun reading to each other. He played the piano for you, squinting his eyes at you every time you made an observation about his technique, but then laughing it off. He kissed your hands every time you sewed his shirts, he kissed your ankles every time you allowed him to become one with you during restless nights.

He spent painfully long times with his head in the crook of your neck, cheek pressed to your collarbone as his nose was glued to the skin of your neck, smelling the sweet scent of your flesh and listening to the way your heart pumped blood. 

With you knowing who — or what — he was made it easier for him to be around you, easier to roam the earth. Knowing about him made it easier for you to help him, to get on his side, to help and protect him. You made sure no accidents involving put out fires were going to happen again, not as long as you were there to take care of it. You made sure you found good excuses every time Jaehyun needed his daytime sleep, or maybe the occasional three days in a row locked in his chambers while resting. You found excuses for Norma not to worry about her precious Master Jaehyun, making her focus more on you and your needs — albeit you had never asked her before, but you needed to keep her busy and unsuspecting. 

Little by little, your passion for music came back to you. You spent time looking over music sheets like you were reading some great pieces of literature, but it took you some time to get back to playing. 

And when you did, the piece you chose was the one dearest and closest to your heart. Your fingers waltzed on the keys as you played your favourite Schumann piece, the one you played the night you met Jaehyun. 

And there it was, the shiver down your spine and the goosebumps across your skin, not even two minutes into the piece. You smiled, eyes still closed as you enjoyed the melody, the memories of the past that were brought back to you.

Jaehyun couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe his ears — you were finally playing something, and it was the hardest piano piece you could have chosen. The one who held a special place in your heart.

He sat on the armchair facing the piano, the one he set up for you so you could stay with him every time he played,  so that you could watch the way his fingers moved.

Your gaze finally met his, and he could hear your heartbeat picking up, “You’re playing again,” he muttered, but his whole being was so proud of you. He loved you.

“I miss my father a little bit more, today,” you whispered back, eyes back on the keys, not because you didn’t know where to touch, but because you were mesmerised by the way your muscles still remembered the motion.

Jaehyun felt anxiety pooling in the pit of his stomach. He knew your story, he knew the reason you had stopped playing. And the reason you gave him for playing once again made every fibre in his body hurt for you. 

You were so beautiful, wearing your silky, ivory dress, rosy cheeks on display, lips pouting with concentration that were literally begging to be kissed by him. But he stayed silent, he observed you, he admired you from his seat, and then he spoke up, breaking the silence between the two of you.

“I want to learn this for you,” he wanted to learn the piece so he could lull you every time you felt down, nostalgic, melancholy taking over you at the thought of your loved ones that you found missing some days more than others, “Let me do this for you,”

Jaehyun spent a good part of his time on earth trying to learn piano. His rules for surviving his condition were simple — stay in a place for twenty years, then move away somewhere else, rebranding his life and career. Up to that point, Jaehyun had spent three separate lives rebranded as a piano teacher, in different states. He spent half his lifetime on this earth trying to learn as many languages as possible, trying to read as many books as he could. But his love for music was always consistent.

 He never transformed anyone else up to that point, no one knew who he was. But no one else managed to have him bewitched, so foolishly in love, either. So Jaehyun’s chest tingled while still watching you, knowing that it was time. 

And that night, spending time nuzzling your pulse line turned into lingering touches, cold fingertips making their way up your body — reaching your chest and, small and controlled pecks turned into hungry and possessive kisses.

Jaehyun’s cold body never bothered you, especially when it was touching your burning one. Your body felt on fire every time he moved his hips in between yours, your heartbeat picked up its rhythm every time you heard him grunting with pleasure, motions slow and calculated, deliberate. His cold touch felt like a blessing, there to remind you the lengths of the pleasure you felt, yet grounding you every time you felt like it was becoming too much to bear. 

Jaehyun never felt the coldness or the warmth of a room, but he felt how your body was on fire under his. Sliding in and out of you was easy, and he took one of your legs, angling it up and supporting it with his shoulder. His cold hand reached down in between your bodies, tracing its way to your lower stomach, applying gentle pressure, and your whine filled his ears like that was the sweetest melody he had ever heard. 

Looking down to where your bodies met, the way you were taking him so well and obedient — it had Jaehyun lost in his own thoughts. Calculated motions of hips became more forceful, more intense, and the hand pressing on your lower stomach gained possessiveness. 

Jaehyun felt you squeezing around him, felt your warm inner pulse on himself like it was pumping blood into his own body. He felt the spots his length reached inside of you, the palm of his hand felt like it was burning while his shaft moved inside of you. And the feeling of it had Jaehyun nearly losing his mind. Your skin was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and the scent of you exploded around his sharp senses, driving him insane as he was getting lost into you. 

He could hear, he could feel, he could smell the blood pumping through you, the pulse on your inner ankle right next to his head made his ears start ringing. Long strokes found it harder to move as your walls prepared Jaehyun to climax, but he knew he wasn’t ready to get there just yet.

Not with your ankle so enticing, so warm to the touch, smell so sweet that it flooded his nose. He wrapped his hand around your calf, moving your leg around so he could bring your foot to him — teeth grazing the skin of your sole, his plump lips caressed the softness up to your pulse line, and he playfully bit into it. It was going to be the last time Jaehyun had you like this — warm, pulsing, alive — and he couldn’t pass on the occasion of worshipping your body the right way.

He bent down to reach your lips, leg still on his shoulder, his hips finding a new angle inside of you that had you melting, pressure building up like fire into your lower stomach,  — which Jaehyun made sure to keep his hand on. 

You moaned into the kiss, and the way Jaehyun could feel you around himself made him snap with something animalistic, a primal need to see your sparkling eyes like a predator did to its prey. He broke the kiss, bringing the hand that was resting on your abdomen up to your lips, fingers tracing your lips that got swollen from his kisses, from his teeth pulling on them.

Jaehyun looked into your eyes, your breath was getting heavier, more desperate, small whines were  leaving your lips as he was helping you reach your release — and he felt his skin tingling just thinking of the way you were going to feel around him, of the way you were about to wrap yourself around him so perfectly. 

Your eyes were droopy, but Jaehyun could see his reflection into them when you looked up at him. They were warm, loving, so accepting of him, and Jaehyun let go of your leg, guiding it around his waist, the motion having both of you moaning as he kept moving in and out of you. His lips made their way up your neck, and the moment you felt his teeth — sharper — pressing on your skin, you moaned his name.

“You still want this, my love?” He asked, not slowing down when he felt the both of you so close. 

You didn’t answer, moaning his name instead, the anticipation of something you had wanted for a long time making your walls squeeze around of him. 

“I need an answer, love. Now,” his rasped, tone low and menacing, panting as he tried to maintain his composure a bit longer. He needed to hear you say it.

“Yes, Jaehyun,” your loins suddenly felt like burning as you felt yourself melting around his shaft, “Please,” you managed to mewl, and Jaehyun didn’t need any more words to come out of you.

With your blood pulsating in his mouth, and your cunt pulsing around his shaft, Jaehyun came exactly like he wanted. Inside of your warmth, feeling every last bit of life dripping out of you. 

Adapting to the new life wasn’t easy, but Jaehyun was there for you, guiding you through it all. You were astonished when you realised temperatures didn’t matter anymore, finally understanding how Jaehyun managed to sleep and live absolutely unbothered by the climate or by the temperature in a room.

But the most shocking thing was waking up to a head full of voices, and the smell of Jaehyun’s skin flooding your senses like that was the only thing you were supposed to sense.

“Jaehyun,” you jumped off the bed, both hands on each side of your head, covering your ears. “I can hear them, all of them,” you whispered, but you knew you were panicking. You couldn’t even hear the thoughts inside your head because you heard Norma scolding someone around the house, loud and clear. “Make it stop!” You pleaded, bending over Jaehyun’s bed. 

Jaehyun pitied you, because maybe he should have prepared you before effectively turning you. There was nothing he could do to help you or take all the new things away from you, but he could guide you to learn how to live with it.

“I can’t,” he let you know, looking to you from his spot on the bed.

“What?” You screeched, squinting your eyes. You thought you heard him through the many voices in your head, but you hoped you heard him wrong.

“Make it stop. I can’t make it stop, my love,” he explained calmly, unmoving.

Your bottom lip quivered, eyes quickly brimming with tears, and that’s when you saw Jaehyun jump off the bed, reaching you in a millisecond, grabbing your wrists to bring your attention on him.

“No, no my love! You can’t cry!" He seemed like he was panicking, and you looked up at him, eyes meeting his, “You will cry blood,” he explained, squeezing your wrists.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you gulped, yet you blinked the tears away, scared of the piece of information he had just dropped on you. 

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and with the way your ears were ringing and head was full of other voices from servants around the house, you weren’t sure you even spoke up in the first place.

“If you cry, they’ll be stained tears. Never cry, at least not in front of others!” He definitely should have told you all the downsides of being a vampire before he turned you into one, out of impulse. 

Why didn’t he tell you all this when you were begging him to transform you?

But you never regretted anything, you never regretted agreeing to become a vampire. Never. 

Eventually, as the weeks passed, you learned to tune other voices down, and peace and quiet was back into your head and ears, only focusing on other people’s voices when you chose to. 

Jaehyun taught you how to hunt, how to survive among mortals. How to fake your appetite for normal food, because albeit the fact that you could still eat food and feel its taste — although a little insipid and faded on your tastebuds, — there was nothing as delicious and nutritious as human blood. Animal blood was thicker, with undertones you weren’t particularly fond of, which left a weird aftertaste in your mouth — and it felt more like a snack, not like a proper meal.

Human blood, on the other hand, was sweet and tasty. You were surprised by the newly acquired sense of smell that allowed you to sense disease, to differentiate someone who was healthy from someone who was at the beginning of growing an infection inside of them, by a discreet sniff only. 

Nights were the hardest, because neither you nor Jaehyun could really sleep, and you had to tiptoe around not to raise suspicions among your servitude. But at least you had one another, getting lost into each other because you were the only one who could understand Jaehyun’s condition, and vice versa. 

You loved Jaehyun, and not once did you regret your new life by his side. Not even when you woke up like your body wasn’t yours anymore, — skin a bit paler, eyes and hair a bit darker, pulse nearly gone, with your heart only pumping blood one time per minute, — and certainly not when you realised how many things had changed in your life. You only needed blood, a safe space in which you could disguise your existence as being a normal one, and Jaehyun.

Yet Jaehyun still chose to leave you behind, despite the love he claimed he carried for you, he took off, abandoning you and making you live without him like you were exiled away from his love. 

The letter he left behind for you to find didn’t explain why he left, but you suspected his need to rebrand and change from monotony, but that wasn’t a plausible explanation to you — for he had told you countless times that you were going to be spending eternity by each other’s side, and you were going to rebrand every single time he did, or vice versa. 

You then suspected he got tired of you. He mentioned he was living through you when you were still a mortal, and then he turned you, only to then leave you behind when he made sure you could survive with your new condition and the burden of knowing you would have to go on with living for many centuries, lacking his presence.

One year after Jaehyun’s departure, you had to bury Jeger — who died of old age, already having reached fifty years of age. The servitude left one by one, others died from colds and others from lung disease, but Norma stayed with you.

You knew Norma was a mortal. At the beginning, when Jaehyun explained to you that you would eventually grow to understand from a sniff or cocked ear who was a living being, you were adamant, looking at him like he was messing with you. You could hear Norma’s heartbeat, you could hear the murmur of her heart as it was pumping blood throughout her body, you could hear the dulcet pulsing of her arteries — but never, not even once, were you tempted to take her life just to sate your appetite.

Norma was the closest to a mother figure you could get after your own mother perished. You found a great friend in her, nothing was taboo between the two of you, — which, during those times, it really showed how close you two were, — and it was only normal to be this way, as she was the only person left that you could trust entirely. Bonded together by the love both of you carried for Master Jaehyun, — yet of course, each of different nature, — Norma never spoke about him in front of you, not wanting to upset you or disrupt your peace. 

Jaehyun was like a son to her, his kindness towards her, the gentleness he carried around himself, Norma loved taking care of him, cooking for him, she was devoted to him. And after he left, she remained devoted to his household, and consequently to you, because the day Jaehyun brought you home, you were so shy to become the new mistress of the house, often going up to Jaehyun to ask for things instead of going straight to the servitude. It was easier to ask the man you loved and with whom you were comfortable, because you didn’t want to bother anyone, and you knew Jaehyun did never bat an eyelash.

Being around the house with Norma felt like routine, you sewed together, you helped her out with whatever you could, because taking someone new as servitude was very risky, not knowing to what extents they could be trusted — and if they could be, in the first place.

“Mistress,” Norma tried one evening, approaching you in Jaehyun’s library, “May I speak to you about one of my concerns?” She asked, and you put the book down right that moment. 

You were worried, because Norma had never expressed any concern for as long as you had known her. You nodded, prompting her to go on.

“I have a niece, a brother of mine has left this world, leaving her behind,” she started, and you had a faint idea of where this conversation was headed to, “Would it be possible to take her in, to help around the house? I shall do my best to instruct her accordingly,” 

You could hear Norma’s heartbeat going crazy inside her chest. She wasn’t frightened, you would say she was more embarrassed than scared, facing you with such proposition. But you didn’t find her proposition to be a problem, knowing that help was indeed very much needed around the house, and with her being Norma’s niece, this girl was probably worth trusting.

Minji was nice, very shy at first, but the more you had her around yourself, the more comfortable you grew with each other. She helped Norma around, and with her being her niece, Norma guided her around like she was a sergeant and your house was training camp. 

“I need you to be aware of everything that needs to be learned about Mistress and her household! One day I will be gone, and hopefully you will be allowed to remain,” You heard Norma whispering from downstairs, her tone condescending. 

“What if she doesn’t want me around when you’re gone?” Her niece asked, and the thought of her being so untrusting saddened you. 

“Mistress has a heart of gold, never forget that!” her tone seemed offended by Minji’s concerns, “Master Jaehyun loved her a lot, and that itself was the only sign anyone needed in order to see what an amazing woman she is,” Norma scolded her, her angry whisper scaring you — so you couldn’t imagine Minji’s reaction. Norma’s whispers were somehow too loud for you to hear anything else besides them.

“You will be taking care of her, and I know she will too,” Norma concluded, and you heard steps approaching your chambers, knowing their discussion was over.

And you tried showing Minji how grateful you were for her being around. Thanks to your behaviour, and you being more open to her whenever she was around, it helped the two of your getting closer. 

But good things were never here to stay, at least not around your household, and tragedy struck again. 

Norma fell ill one day, out of a sudden. No epidemics had been announced, you weren’t aware of any viruses going around, and Norma only ever left the house once a week with Minji, the two of them in charge of getting food for a whole week. 

So when Minji came up to your chambers crying, panicking, you knew things were bad. Norma was barely breathing, sweaty, in pain. You heard her heart struggling to keep up with everything going on inside of her, the infection spread in her body. She was delirious, seeing and talking to every single person she had ever loved, seeing them around the room, Jaehyun included. 

You panicked, thinking that he was back without you sensing him, but the corner of the room towards which Norma was looking at while barely able to speak — claiming she was speaking to her Master Jaehyun, — made you realise how bad it was. At that time, even a cold could take one person’s life, so Norma’s condition was serious, and it was rapidly taking her away from you. 

“What should we do?” Minji sobbed, hands trembling, and every fibre of her being was panicking. Her heartbeat was going crazy, her pressure going through the roof after realising the situation at hand. 

“Minji, listen to me,” your voice was stern, but you needed her to be calm for whenever Norma was going to huff her last breath. “You need to stay away from her, don’t cross the threshold of the door, I don’t want you to catch anything,” You instructed, pointing towards the door, but your eyes were on Norma, who seemed to have come back to her senses while on her deathbed, hallucinations gone and she was once again looking at you with her usual loving gaze. 

“What if you catch something, Mistress? Please, let us go find the physician,” Minji rambled, eyes sparkling as she panicked while looking at Norma’s figure laying helplessly on her bed.

“Minji!” Your tone made her jolt, raising her glossy eyes to look at you, “I won’t catch anything from her,” your voice was suddenly heavy with emotion. Not once did you think of transforming Norma, not once did you think of opening up to her. You thought that if Jaehyun didn’t do it in the first place, why should you? What if Jaehyun had his reasons, and you were going to make a mistake? 

Looking at her struggling and aching body made you realise it was too late, anyway. She was too sick to be transformed, and even if you bit into her flesh, her body couldn’t recover to have enough force to survive.

“Mistress…” Norma’s whisper surprised you, not thinking she was mentally there, with you and Minji. Her eyes were glossy, lost, sporting the same look they had when she was having hallucinations. “Do not cry,” she instructed, trying her best to sound authoritarian, but her soft spoken tone made your eyes brim with tears. One look at Minji let you know just how devastated the poor child was. 

Norma raised one hand, painfully slow, and made a gesture for you to get closer to her. Minji kept her distance, but her puffy eyes were on her aunt, looking over her tormented figure. 

“Mistress, I know,” she started, and you felt her heart slowing down a bit, “I know what Master Jaehyun was,” she whispered to you, and your breath hitched listening to her, “If you ever see him again, give him my love,” she cried, lip quivering, but her gaze became lost once again, and aimed at the ceiling, and that was where it remained.

“Norma?” You sobbed, eyes once again full of tears. But Norma was laying still, barely breathing, eyes now close, lost in all the agony she felt in that moment, “Norma!” You screamed, shaking her, because it wasn’t supposed to end like this, not when she admitted that she was aware of everything going on inside the house, with all the tears you had spilled in her presence when you had been left behind. 

Norma wasn’t dead, she was unresponsive instead. Her body was warm, but her skin was covered in sweat, the stench of death slowly bubbling inside of her. 

Climbing on her bed, you took her figure into your arms, exactly like she did countless of times when she picked you up from the ground, every time you suffered after Jaehyun’s departure. Not caring about the circumstances anymore, your tears started flowing, staining their trail down your cheeks, down your neck as you sobbed and lulled Norma’s body in your arms. Her heartbeat was slow, heart struggling to pull through whatever was going on inside of her body, struggling to give her a chance of survival. 

A few hours later, Norma died in your arms, and you can still recall the time when her heart stopped beating in her chest. The 1881 cholera pandemic took the last person connecting you to your past, away from you, leaving you alone in this cruel, cold world, in which everything was unfair and everything moved too slowly for your liking. 

Having to explain your bloody tears to Minji came easy, as you were already exhausted by the events in your life — and it seemed like Minji wasn’t surprised of what you confessed to her, having already picked up a few signs, and you imagine yourself a few years prior, finding excuses for all the signs that were laying up in the open for you to see, yet you were blinded by the love you carried for Jaehyun. 

With the cholera pandemic taking away many lives on the daily, Minji trusted you enough to let you save her, from that one and from future pandemics and disasters alike. 

With Minji’s turning into a vampire, with all the training she had to go through — just like it happened to you, — and with the virus spreading fast, you took your life into your own hands, and Minji’s too, as she was too scared to be in this world all by her new self. 

And with your leaving Jaehyun’s mansion behind — with every possession of his as well as yours still inside, — you also left that part of your life behind, and all the memories the two of you had shared, locked in there.

Navigating your new life with Minji was fun, but difficult. Not because she was difficult to have around, on the contrary. 

Minji looked up to you. You were her creator, and she was your only creation, for you had never had the desire to turn another mortal into what the two of you were. She looked at you like you held the truth to all mysteries of this world, and you did — to a certain extent. And not Minji’s presence, behaviour or decisions were the difficult part, but the events you had to go through in order to survive.

Using Jaehyun’s rebranding method, you effectively managed to keep both your and Minji’s identities hidden, infiltrating yourselves in communities, villages, rebranding every twenty years and changing your lives completely.

You moved across countries, states, towns, you lived your life to the fullest, meeting people and making friends — that you had to leave behind always, every time traces that could lead to you and your secret life needed to get lost. 

You went from wearing crinolines and corsets, to wearing miniskirts, pearls and heels. You went from long hair, to rocking a very short bob, to having long hair once again, just like the trends dictated. You went through pandemics of all sorts, natural disasters, you survived wars and famine — albeit there never was famine in your case, only for the poor mortals.

You went from wearing fur, to waring jeans and sneakers, from writing letters to phones. You went from creaking wooden floors, to tiles and soundproof systems around your houses and windows. 

You even went to university when it became popular, and you loved every single bit of it. It felt exciting, remembering the tough times during which you were born, and you still made it out to live through the modern times in which women made a name for themselves, and they slowly gained more freedom and the power of identifying themselves, attending schools and making a living by themselves. You went from being called ‘mistress’, to ‘miss’.

But you never married, you never dated, because your heart kept itself tormented and yearning after one man. One man that exiled you, discarded of you, and that was the hardest part of it all. Like you had never mattered to him. You roamed the earth for more than a century trying to find him, although not deliberately. Every place you moved to, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was around there as well. Decades spent in the same places yet you never heard from him, or sensed him in the air. 

The love you carried for Jaehyun back in the day, was still alive, the flame of love barely there, but still burning in your heart nonetheless. And how could you ever think of loving someone else, when Jaehyun was the only man you yearned for? And with all this, with all your love and yearning for him, you couldn’t shake the sadness and the betrayal you felt every time you were reminded of him, rage flooding you and every fibre of your being like a hasty virus. 

Maybe not finding him was for the best, because you weren’t sure how you would have reacted if you found him a few feet away from you. Were you going to kill him? What other options did you have, to make him hurt just as he did you?

Everything you became, your existence, you owed him every single minute spent on this earth, but you couldn’t help but wonder what life could have been like if he was by your side, had he never left you.

And then, it was February 1994.

Coming home from your job at the art gallery downtown, you took your heels off, swollen feet thanking you for finally freeing them. Newspaper folded under your arm as you carried unnecessary groceries back home, you threw everything you were carrying in your arms, on the kitchen table of your small apartment. 

Out of all the decades you had lived in throughout all your life, the 90’s were your favourite thus far. The phones, the fashion, the busses and subway, the cabs, the music and the films. You could go to the movies every single night, if it weren’t for your job that you liked keeping, despite your and Jaehyun’s huge fortunes you still carried, hidden. You weren’t in need of a job, yet you loved having one — it was more like a hobby, especially if it involved the arts.

So you picked up your newspaper, your body tingling with excitement as you couldn’t wait to see what films were going to be out that week. Yet your eyes stopped on the headline for a few seconds, written in huge, bold letters. ‘LOVED BOYBAND, KILLED IN CAR CRASH LAST NIGHT, read more on page 36’, it read, but you didn’t really care.

You only wanted the local cinema’s schedule, but then curiosity really started eating at you. What boyband? What if it was one of your favourite artists? 

So you turned to page thirty six, eyes scanning the page for all the information about the car crash. Nothing suspicious, it seemed like the manager, also the designated driver that night, fell asleep and everyone in the car perished because of his mistake.

 Your eyes fell on the bottom of the page, where all the members had their individual portrait pictures sitting nicely, as a posthumous homage to their fame and glory. 

And there he was. Jaehyun, pictured in all his glory. Sparkling eyes staring right back at you.

With the newspaper placed on the table just under your nose, your tea had run cold while you lost track of time thinking about his picture. Sure, it was still on page thirty six, plastered there like you were finally meant to find him. 

But it had to be just a macabre coincidence, right? Seeing his face after decades, centuries, made your stomach drop and your heart felt heavy with the mix of emotions battling through you. You weren’t sure of what you were going to do — given you found him — thinking you were going to take your revenge on him, but the moment your eyes laid on his picture, and all the beautiful features you once loved, the emotions within you became unbearable. And so did the thoughts.

Had he always been out there giving hints of his existence for you to find, or was this just a consequence of a miscalculated rebranding plan, in which he never took into account the possibility of being outed to the public and, most importantly, to his lover that had been searching for him for centuries after being promised eternity by his side? 

It had to be a sick little game of destiny or maybe real death, because you know Jaehyun never made mistakes. 

“Mistress!” The familiar voice called you, heels clanking on the marbled floors of the Parisian-style café.

Minji. She still liked using the nickname she was so accustomed to, from all those years back, and she never tried to hide her excitement when using the title now turned nickname. 

“You’re very pale,” Minji’s eyebrows furrowed while looking at you, “As if that’s possible,” she joked, eyes sparkling and she bit her lip trying not to laugh out loud at the obvious joke between the two of you. But your lack of sense of humour made her smile drop, and her eyebrows furrowed once more.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered, leaning in from her spot across the table. 

You looked at her for a fleeting moment, and you sighed before raising your elbows and snatching the newspaper from underneath them.

You pushed the folded object towards Minji, who was confused but still intrigued, yet she kept her hands under the table waiting for you to instruct her.

“Go to page thirty six,” you brought one hand to your mouth, biting on the nail of your thumb. You see her making slow, calculated movements, like the ones you always do with absolutely no rush in order not to make any unwanted mistakes in this world that evolves at full speed, not wanting to give away the fact that your soul and being are more than one century old — which you learned from Jaehyun, so it was only normal to pass everything you knew down to the only person you transformed.

 “Tell me what you see,” you instructed, looking at her features, and the way she was so carefully reading the headline and then how she inspected the page.

“Seven men?” She asked, not knowing if that was what you wanted to hear, “They were kinda handsome,  though,” she joked, a tilted and barely contained smirk creeping in the corner of her mouth.

“Mhm,” you hummed, straightening your posture, anxiety making its way through your chest, “Now read the names. Carefully,”

She took a moment to look at you, sensing hesitation, fear, but also impatience?

She cleared her throat, looking at the names below the pictures. “Johnny Suh, drummer,” she made a pause before continuing the makeshift eulogy, “Lee Haechan, bass and voice. Mark Lee, guitarist. Nakamoto Yuta, guitarist. Kim Doyoung, synth and voice. Lee Taeyong, manager. And-” she suddenly stopped, head snapping back to look for your gaze, “And Jeong Jaehyun, vocalist?” She asked incredulously. 

Your gaze bore into hers, and she was like a deer in headlights waiting for you to answer. It was either the most fucked up coincidence, or Master Jaehyun just outed himself. 

“Is this… Master Jaehyun?” The whisper made your ears start ringing, and you averted your gaze. Minji never saw a picture of Jaehyun, because you remembered having one in his library, but it disappeared the moment he himself also did. “Why is he so handsome?” She seemed starstruck, but she snapped herself out of it as soon as she remembered the whole situation, “And why is he in a newspaper? Did he want you to find him?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, closing your eyes trying to elucidate this mystery in the next thirty seconds. “I also don’t know if I want to really find him, you know?” 

“What?” She slapped your arms playfully. “This can’t be a coincidence, Y/n. It’s either this or he’s just really stupid for believing he wouldn’t make it on the news if he got famous and died,” she stopped her rambling, her mind pausing on one thought, and she bit her lip before opening her mouth once again to talk to you, “Did he really die?”

You shook your head, but there was a lump in your throat nonetheless, “Don’t think so, this could be his rebranding with a good excuse to disappear and start a new life,” you voice was full of uncertainties, it trembled with unspoken fear as Minji’s words sank in, “But what if he really died?”

“What does your hunch say?” Minji pushed, knowing you were going to start crying blood tears at the thought that from that moment on, you were going to roam the earth with no purpose.

“This is the first time I don’t have a hunch,” you gulped, scratching your temples, “It’s logical to rebrand, but he’s not this stupid. He knew he would be on the news and that everyone could see his face,”

“Maybe he was just careless,” Minji didn’t want to use the term stupid on someone as handsome and important as Master Jaehyun.

“Minji,” you warned, your patience wearing thin, “Everything I taught you, I learned from him. There is absolutely no way he did this on purpose,” you poked the newspaper on the table, repeatedly with your index finger. “I think he’s gone. For good this time,” you nodded, your eyes flooding with tears, and you brought a tissue to your eyes to cover the bloody stains about to start rolling down your cheeks. 

The heart barely beating in your chest felt like it was breaking, like the last grams of Jaehyun that you had been carrying inside of you since he left, were gone — and that half the heart he had left behind to beat for him, waiting to be reunited with its other half he’d successfully taken away, had finally been snatched away in that moment, the memory of him fading like his presence.

Thirty more years pass by, and you rebrand again. New city, new house, new profession. 

You’re now a piano teacher, even if it’s hard to live all the memories of the past as soon as you touch a key when you teach the kids. Memories of all the moments you spent with Jaehyun, the image of your moving fingers on top of the keys fading with an hallucination of seeing his. Your fingers always move with fast precision, and you envision his fingers playing instead of yours, too many times to keep track of.

Up until today, you never made peace with the thought of not being able to see him ever again. In the past, you were fuelled by the anticipation of meeting him again, making him pay for leaving you behind, hurting him, loving him. But now, the thought that you won’t be able to be in the same room as him ever again, made you suffer like a poor dying animal. 

In your head, it was just not possible to come to terms with the fact that you’re alone. You still only have Minji, who now lives one hour away from you and has a loving human boyfriend, but you miss him. 

Thirty years went by with you devastated and trying to come to reason, thirty years went by with Minji having to keep you in check more times than you’d like to admit. 

At some point you thought you should just keep looking for him, but you stopped about twenty years ago, realising it was driving you insane. You knew Jaehyun too well, and you knew that headline in the newspaper wasn’t him escaping his old life. Too many people were involved in that car crash for him to do this as part of his plan, and you knew he wasn’t cruel enough to take away lives of innocent people.

So instead, you’ve been spending time trying to numb all the heartbreak, all the flooding memories you finally managed to suppress — safe for the piano lessons, during which they all came back to you like cold waves to the burning shore. 

Mourning the mortal times you lived is something you picked up on the way, because while you have to find new things to think about that are not directly linked to Jaehyun and his condition, it seems like all your existence is tied to his.

You’re only now regretting the decision, the vehement convincing you tried to do so many times on Jaehyun. Because if it weren’t for your decision and how much you loved him, you weren’t going to live much longer. Life expectancy was so short compared to the modern times, the current lifespan of a person being more than double of what it used to be in the nineteenth century, when you were born.

And maybe this is his punishment for you. You wanted this so much, against his advice and against your better judgement, that he gave in just to make you happy, yet at the same time damning you to roam the earth living like him, but without him. Like you wanted this so vehemently, and he gave it to you, but he punished you for wanting to become this way.

Because had he not transformed you, you were bound to remain a mortal, die soon of a disease like everyone else around you did, and you would have been spared the heartache of living your life without him by your side, damned to survive all humanity for centuries to come.

No amount of interactions, no amount of loving what you do, — still gifted and a piano prodigy, — can take away the lingering pain that follows you like a shadow. 

Maybe you should have looked for him with more ardour when you had the chance, when you knew he was still around. Maybe you should have spent more time trying to trace him down, and even if you resented him, even if you wanted to hurt him, have him killed, to torture him, you should have acted on time. Because now it’s too late, your racing thoughts are in vain, the recurring pain is just a reminder of how wrong your life went.

You made your research, looking into the last known trace of Jaehyun’s existence on this earth. He was in a successful band, they made great music, and it was a shock to you seeing his decision of using his real name instead of a new one, unlike all the things he instructed you not to do. 

And then the mini van he was in crashed and burned, and only burned bodies were found among the charred remains left behind after the fire was extinguished. And you know Minji wanted to ask you if you really think they’re dead, but you also know that she kept her mouth shut not to upset you — upset you even more, that is. 

You know they are. Jaehyun, the man you loved, would never hurt others on purpose. He managed to survive in a fast evolving world as a creature characteristic to the undead category, so you just know — even if you lost your hunch about this matter long ago. It’s like the moment you realised he died, when your stomach and heart dropped, your hunch also did.

So for the first time ever, you live your life following a routine, you wake up, go tutor kids, skip your lunches because frankly you don’t need them anyway, then you call Minji on you way home, and you go hunting late at night when people are into the deepest of slumbers.

There’s so much beauty in this world, so much literature and music you can’t help but mourn how Jaehyun chose to run away from you, when you could have lived through all the changing times and decades, with him holding your hand through it all.

And you suppose your love for music needs to be fed as well, with you visiting record stores frequently, concerts, pubs, while also becoming slave to technology, like a dog on a leash for music apps. If anybody told you when you were a little girl, that times would come to change this much, you would have laughed and called them a lunatic. Times in which you bathed at candlelight were changed for times in which people panicked during a blackout. Winter’s cold that everybody used to keep food cold while preparing canned foods and jars during summers, thinking of the heavy winters that were ahead, were exchanged for fridges and freezers. Sometimes it’s hard for you to wrap your head around all the changes and evolution of the human race.

So like usual, you stop by the record store on your way home after your last tutoring session, this time stopping by an antique store to check some vinyls out, because they have always been your favourite, even if you traded them for cds or playlists on music apps to have everything more simplified for you.

The place is huge, and it smells like old paper, the type of store you know has sold the greatest and most authentic pieces known to man judging by the smell of the store alone. The air is cool, air conditioning blowing at full speed — and you can recognise the smell of it. While you can’t feel heat or cold physically on your body, you can sense the smell. And outside is a torrid, rotting smell of a heatwave that has you nauseous after passing mortals on the street.

“Hi, welcome!” A friendly voice rings like an echo around the empty store, covering Michael Jackson’s singing voice heard throughout the ceiling speakers. It’s high in pitch, but you can sense the kindness dripping off it, “I’m sorry, but we don’t allow beverages in here,” he gives you a remorseful little smile, “We don’t want unfortunate events involving our vinyls,” he goes on with the explaining, as if he’s apologising for the store’s policy.

“It’s okay, really,” you tell him, looking at the tall glass of iced americano in your hand, shaking it a bit, the ice cubes making noise as they hit each other. You only ever drink coffee because its strong taste overpowers the disgusting smell of humans sweating outside, skin overheated in the heatwave, “I totally understand! I wouldn’t want my stuff to get destroyed either,” you reassure him, walking towards the cashier desk where he’s standing, “Can I leave this here?” You shake it in front of his figure, before setting it on the desk.

“I’ll keep it safe,” he nods, and one first, very attentive look at him, and his gaze seems to be holding yours with prying attention. 

His face is adorned in moles, pouty lips chapped as he runs his tongue on them out of reflex at your attentive eyes on his figure, feeling like a deer in highlight in front of you, and he seems familiar. 

A face like his doesn’t go unnoticed, so you wonder the premises of a possible encounter you might have had in the past, a fleeting moment passing him by on the street — anything, really. Because you know you’ve never been inside this record store before. 

You give him a small smile, already eyeing other corners of this store, not because he makes you feel uncomfortable, but because you don’t want to make him feel this way as you try to understand the reason  he’s so familiar. 

Your fingers are fast as you navigate all the amazing music they have. This is indeed the greatest store you’ve entered, and you wonder who curated the inventory. 

“Isn’t it torrid outside?” The young man asks you, the only customer at this time in the afternoon, so you nod and hum, acknowledging him and his question, but your mind still blown by the fact that they’re selling a rare Queen vinyl for twenty bucks. 

“I suppose,” you sigh, too lost into your own thoughts, and you freeze on the spot, your mind registering the words you just let out. 

“You suppose?” He laughs, showing you a perfect row of white teeth. “You just came in a few minutes ago,” he pouts, pointing at the entrance door like you’re an idiot.

Maybe you are an idiot, because why did your mouth open without your consent? This man doesn’t need to know that you don’t feel temperatures.

“I meant that,” you pause, turning to look at him as he’s slouching over the cashier desk, “I moved here a few months ago and this is my first summer here, so I wouldn’t know how to compare it to last year’s,” you try to dodge the bullet, and he seems like he buys your bullshit excuse after mulling your words over.

You try focusing once again on the piles of vinyls sitting in front of your figure, but you feel his intent gaze on your figure, lingering on your pale skin to the point you feel paranoia seeping through your pale skin. 

You try to remember why he seems so familiar. A traffic light in town? A student’s relative? Perhaps you threw him a fleeting look while walking down towards your table in a restaurant? You’ve been in this small town for about six months already, but you can’t seem to be able to allocate a place or occasion to his face.

You sharpen your hearing, trying to focus on him, and then it seems like your sharp senses fail you, even abandon you. You don’t hear a heartbeat, you don't hear insides churning after the lunch he’s had today, you don’t hear blood pumping through his arteries. 

And then it hits you like a truck at full speed. The newspaper thirty years ago — his black and white picture was plastered there, just a bit above Jaehyun’s, and you can still remember the same sparkly eyes he had in that photo — with which he’s looking at you right now. 

You approach the cashier where you left your drink, and you wrap a fearful hand around the tall glass.  His gaze bores into yours, and then he smiles at you like a child would, like one of the kids you tutor would try to persuade you to dismiss him earlier. 

“You’ve been eyeing me,” he accuses with a playful tone, “Have we met before?”

There’s an urge inside of you that makes your insides burn, like you’re ready to jump this man in front of you, and you wonder if he’s playing with you right now.

If you recognised him, you’re sure he understood what you are as well, hence the question about the heatwave taking over the small town yet you’re dry as a bone, no droplets of sweat clinging to your skin. But if you recognised him from that damned newspaper you still keep in the attic of the small house you bought, you’re sure he doesn’t know who you are. You can link him to Jaehyun, but he can’t do the same to you.

“I don’t think we have, no,” you whisper after a painfully long time, eyeing him like you’re ready to put a wooden stick through his chest if he blinks one more time. “Actually,” you squint your eyes a bit, tilting your head, “You seem oddly familiar,” you retort, taking a few steps back, but you don’t wait for his answer — yet your eyes never leave his.

You throw your coffee in the first bin you find on your way back to your car, and you pick up your phone. 

If his band member, who was supposedly dead, is still alive and running a record store in the small town you’re now living in, that means Jaehyun is still out somewhere, and just the thought of him having fooled you makes you choke with betrayal.

You don’t return to the record store, thinking it’d be too dangerous to face that man again. Haechan, you checked his name as soon as you arrived home. He has the same sparkling eyes, the same hair colour, yet now it’s longer than what he sported in the 90’s. 

You spend the entire summer looking around yourself like a anxious paranoid freak. You know it’s all in your head, because you would actually feel it if anyone followed you — by using your hearing or trying to smell who’s in your proximity, — but you can’t help but spare looks left and right as you come home everyday, as you go to work, as you welcome your students at the entrance of your studio. 

But there’s no sign of Jaehyun, Haechan, or any of the band members you made sure to memorise all the facial features of by looking at their pictures. Thank god for the internet, because you could find all the archives of their activities as a band. 

“Maybe you should visit the record store again,” Minji suggested on the phone one day, making you scoff.

“No, thank you,” you let a humourless laugh escape you, eyes squinting as you inspected a box of crackers at the supermarket. “Actually, Minji,” you start, throwing the box in your cart and proceeding to grab a pack of sweet bread, “I’m thinking of rebranding,” you mumble into the phone, aware of the fact that it will mess the timeline you established for both Minji and yourself.

“What?” She screeches into the phone, and your sharp hearing is too sensitive to the sound of her voice, “So soon? But Master Jaehyun is still alive, and possibly he’s somewhere around you,”

“That’s precisely the reason, Minji,” you explain, pushing your cart around, reaching the meat section, and suddenly you’re thirsty looking at the blood-dripping liver packages sitting in the display fridges, “He said we’ll find each other if we’re meant to be, and I feel like I’ve been looking for him yet he’s the one running away from me,” 

And truth be told, besides being paranoid out of your mind, you spent time mulling some things over. Some things like the fact that Jaehyun hasn’t made one single effort to find you, or how he went to extreme lengths like faking his own death that he knew would make the headlines, given his status at that time. And then there’s the fact that that man, Haechan, knows you’re around, yet no one has ever reached out to you. So you came to the conclusion that Jaehyun doesn’t want to find you, because he could have done so until now, so many times. 

It’s disappointing, realising that you spent eternity looking for him only to be met with an empty promise. And honestly you’ve reached a point where you really don’t want to meet him again. You’re fearful, you’re embarrassed after making a fool of yourself, but you know you did so because you loved him. And you’re sure you’ll go on loving him for a long time, but you’re the one who has to get away right now, the mere thought of having to face a man who made you suffer for absolutely no reason until now is making your insides churn with anger. 

Centuries spent in misery only to realise you were playing his game all along. Plying a game of cat and mouse, if you will, — and you’re tired.

“Come live here,” Minji suggests, “Everyone knows I have a sister, so it will be easy for you to rebrand here,” she tells you, her sweet voice bringing you comfort. Because she’s all you have, and maybe you should have turned Norma into a vampire as well. You wouldn’t have been so lonely and miserable if you did.

“I’ll think about it,” you smiled into the phone, but this time you feel like you’ll have to go even farther away. 

You’re snatched out of your thoughts the moment someone’s cart bumps into yours. 

“Ah! Miss Queen News of the World Fortieth Anniversary edition! What a coincidence,” the same mellow voice greets your hearing, yet this time he’s not alone. You recognise the other man to be the drummer of the band, Johnny Suh.

Extremely tall, very well built, Johnny seems to be someone that came out of a picture. Muscles defined like someone draw him with the finest pencil, clothes sitting impeccably, hugging his perfect body just the right way. 

But you’re not impressed, you’re actually upset he bumped into you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while! Someone bought your vinyl a while back,” Haechan’s voice interrupts your glaring towards Johnny’s direction, “Throwing a bbq party?” He laughs, pointing at your cart half full of red meat.

For some reason, you’re beyond pissed by his cockiness.

“Is there a reason for your bumping into me here?” You ask, elbows resting on your cart as you look at the two of them uninterested.

This is just another way to confirm your suspicions. Jaehyun knows you’re here, and you’re sure he didn’t spend centuries looking for you. Running away from you, on the other hand… 

“Listen,” you start, pushing the cart away and walking towards the two, “You two act like internet archives aren’t a thing, like wikipedia isn’t a click away,” you sigh coming closer to the two, “One century from now and maybe, just maybe people will overlook the fact that you two look exactly like two rockstars who died in 1994,” you bark at them tiredly, not in the mood to beat around the bush when you know exactly what they are, and you’re sure they know what you are as well, “I thought your maker was smarter than this,”

But you don’t wait for their reply, leaving Haechan’s annoyingly radiant face behind, smugness now wiped away by your words. 

And you don’t bother finishing your shopping, or driving home, or calling Minji to tell her of the unpleasant encounter you just had. You drive away, and with sleep not being a problem to you, you know exactly where you’re off to.

It takes you ten more hours to reach your destination, and you park your car in one of the designated parking spots. 

You look at the mansion that had been your home for so many years, and even if you wanted to go to your childhood home instead, you’re keeping that option viable for your next rebranding, that you’ve decided will come sooner than previously anticipated. 

Jaehyun’s mansion was unkept for a long time after you left town with Minji, and a few decades later, when you made sure no one remembered your faces, you made Minji buy it, not having the heart to lose it — and everything inside, — to complete strangers. After a few more decades, you made the purchase, for it to then be left unkept by the city hall, and then you bought it again at the beginning of your rebranding, a few years ago.

And now you feel like it’s finally over, like there’s no reason to keep it and go out of your way to buy it every few decades to make sure no one sees how suspiciously you act. Maybe you’ll fake your own death as well, and it all ends tonight with this mansion burning down to the ground alongside all the boxes inside.

Your pace is fast, feet moving rapidly inside and past the gates, and a gentle breeze blows, carrying a melody to your ears.

You stop in your tracks, looking at the old mansion and the unkept garden around it, the entrance where Jeger parked the carriage to wait for you, the fountain and its rim — the one you used to sit on while Jaehyun read to you during sunny summer afternoons.

And then you sharpen your hearing, thinking you hallucinated and heard the sound earlier, yet another breeze blows and the melody reaches your ears — this time louder and clearer.

Judging by the piece being played on a piano, the meaning behind it, and the importance it has to you, you know who’s the one playing. And your feet move on their own, your brain freezing while you take quick steps over to the entrance, and all around the ground floor of the mansion, all the way towards the parlour where you knew the piano was, and you stop in your tracks for the second time in the span of ten minutes, a lump forming in your throat.

You’re greeted by Jaehyun, looking exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him, hair black and on the longer side, like he’s been here the whole time, like he didn’t make an appearance in a newspaper thirty years ago, sporting short, platinum hair. And he’s playing that Schumann piece.

“I told you I’ll learn this for you,” he smiles, eyes still focusing on his moving fingers.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, and it sounds like you’re being strangled. 

“Well, if the mountain will not come to Muhammad…” he trails off, like he’s mocking you in some sort of way.

“Then Muhammad will come to the mountain,” you complete the saying, still in disbelief of the personal attack he just launched on you. “Is this all you have to say?” You accuse, eyes squinting at his stupidly handsome face, “After all you’ve put me through, you choose these to be among the first words you tell me?” You bark at him, your voice dripping with hurt.

He halts his movements, the melody coming to an abrupt halt, and his beautiful sparkly eyes look into your raging ones.

“You let me roam the earth, alone and scared, just to show up in a place you knew I’d take refuge in?” You accuse him once again, and you feel like you’re losing your mind. Did this man ever love you like he claimed he did?

“I heard you were going to rebrand,” he explained, bringing his arms behind his figure, “You gave up,”

“I gave up?” You shout at him, tone full of anger and disbelief, “I’ve been looking for you since the day you left, and you still managed to run away farther, and farther each time!”

“But you didn’t find me,” he whispers, and you feel like you don’t recognise him. Centuries might have passed, but you never thought Jaehyun’s way of thinking would ever change.

“And you did?” You lurch towards his figure standing next to the piano, and you push at his chest, “Did you ever look for me, Jaehyun? You promised me eternity and then you left, asking me to look for you! And I did!” You push at his chest with every accusatory sentence that you let out, “ Yet you never looked for me!” 

You start crying, not caring about the bloody tears, “And the moment you feel me giving up on you, you come exactly where you know you’ll find me? Like you never did before!” You punch his chest, and he allows you to do it, still keeping his arms behind his figure. 

“You left me behind and I lost everyone and everything all by myself, when you promised you’d stay with me forever,” you sob, but your tone is full of venom as you spit accusations in his face.

He grabs your wrists, having enough of all your punches to his chest, “I love you! Never, not even for one second, believe I don’t love you, or that I didn’t in the past! I looked for you with no success, I moved countries and continents and you were nowhere to be found! So never, ever, accuse me again of running away from you!” He rasps, accentuating every single sentence. His eyes are dark, menacing, angry at your accusations, and while it should make you back down, it only fuels you more.

“And whose fault is that, Jaehyun?” You retort through your teeth, wrists still wrapped in his firm grip, “You ran away from me that day, leaving a letter behind like that was supposed to hold all the answers to my questions! I had to bury Norma, Jeger, everyone else, all by myself! And the only thing you kept telling me in that letter was how much you loved me and that if we’re meant to be together, we’ll find each other again! You said you loved me but you left me behind like a kicked puppy,”

“And I’ll regret that forever!” He spits, now angry. “I’ve been yearning to be reunited with you even as soon as I left, but I had to do it! The priest started getting suspicious of me and I wanted to protect you! Taking you with me and leaving the mansion behind meant we were on the run from all accusations that priest was going to bring upon us, and I thought it was going to be easier for you to call my supposed death and erasing traces of my existence in this town, instead of you running away with me, and us possibly becoming a subject for history books!” 

“What?” You ask incredulously, the information too much for you right now.

“I never ran away from you except that one time, and I came back here looking for you every single time I rebranded in the vicinity of this zone, hoping you left clues behind, clues of where you could be! I spent centuries in agonising pain trying to finally find you,” his voice breaks, it thickens with emotion as he tries to gulp away the tears.

“I can’t believe you thought I was running away from you,” he seems in disbelief, and a look into his eyes and you can tell he’s hurt.

“Then how do you explain the obnoxious presence of your band members around the town I rebranded to?” Your tone still dripped with anger, adamant to believe him.

“Haechan recognised you because of this,” he pulls a locket out of his pocket, “I always kept you with me, all these years,” he opens it with long and slender fingers, showing you a now blurry picture of yourself from 1875, “He told me about you, and how it seemed like you recognised him as well, that one time at the record store. And I knew I could find you there, yet somehow it was like the earth swallowed you whole, like every time I was getting near, you disappeared into thin air,”

He gulps, trying to control his trembling voice, “Haechan heard you might rebrand, and I thought our house could be a place you would want to visit in the next few days, so I came here just to wait for you. And I started playing the piano the moment I sensed you parking outside the gates, hoping you’ll hear me,”

His hands are suddenly on both sides of your face, squishing your cheeks as he looks into your eyes for a sign that you believe him, or that you don’t, or maybe for a sign that you still love him. A sign of anything. Give him the smallest of signs and he’ll grip to it like a drowning man looking for someone to pull him up again. 

“My love,” he starts, and your stomach flutters at the words that leave his mouth, having missed them, “I love you, and eternity by your side is all I’ve ever longed for,” 

You grab his wrists, pushing yourself up to reach his lips, and the moment his lips touch yours it’s like you can feel temperatures once again. They’re burning as they move on top of yours like flaming hot honey, tasting just as sweet.

He moans into the kiss, his slender fingers now making their way up in your hair, one hand reaching the back of your neck to bring you closer to the armchair by the piano, the one you used to sit in every time he played for you. And he didn’t have to take you after him, because you would have chased his lips nonetheless.

Dragging you on top of him, he never breaks the kiss. Your hands make their way up in his hair, pulling at the dark strands to elicit something out of him, and he pleases your unspoken request with a rumbling groan coming from his chest, like he’s finally relaxing knowing he found the only thing that allows him to go on with living. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this again, how long I’ve waited to taste your sweetness again,” he mumbles against your lips, feeling your hands travelling down his abdomen to his belt. 

His hands are all over your body, gripping at your thighs, pulling at your dress, squeezing the flesh of your arms and hips, travelling up on your abdomen to your breasts. 

He’s insatiable for you, too desperate to make up for the lost time, too desperate to feel your lips on him, too desperate to be one with you once again. 

His big hands wrap around your breast as your fingers travel south of his happy trail, impatience making both of you messy, teeth clashing and tongues swirling in an eager battle of dominance, — and he pulls back a bit, giving you the reins and surrendering to you. He lets you set the pace, and even if he still feels the need to devour your lips and kiss you the way he’s craved for, for such long time, he lets you guide him so it feels good for you. 

His senses are flooded by your smell, the sweetness he’s daydreamed of so many times until now, and it doesn’t have to be a memory of the past. You’re right here, your bare chest touching his, and with your clothed cunt causing friction on his already hard bulge.

You bite his lip as a warning to keep it down, because you’ve never heard him so vocal and desperate for your touch. You guess this is what a century of yearning does to a man.

Feeling Jaehyun so eager for you gives you so much power, so much control, he’s at your mercy but his eyes are looking at you like he’s on the edge of snapping, like he’s putting all self control into supporting your weight on top of his clothed cock, trying not to pay too much mind to it or otherwise the friction alone might make him release on the spot.

You moan his name when the friction feels too delicious, making your clit burn with anticipation, “Tell me what you want,” you look down at him, half naked under you, with his eyes glinting the moment he hears the way his name rolls off your tongue so easily, so eager, “Just say it,”

“You,” he huffs trying not to focus on the way you keep moving on top of him, relentless, “Just you,” he breathes on your neck, hands keeping you in place on top of him, “Ride me, my love,” he pleads, and it doesn’t take you too much time to do as he says.

His fingers travel between your bodies, moving your panties to the side, to impatient to let you get off him to slide them down your legs, and as you sense his movements and understand his actions and what he means, you fingers move to his boxers, pulling the elastic band away from his abs, his cock slapping against his abdomen as soon as you free it from the uncomfortable tightness of the fabric. 

You squeeze it in the palm of your hand, grip travelling to its tip, and Jaehyun sucks air through his teeth, “Don’t play,” he lets out a whimper when you give it one final squeeze, before your free hand pushes him away from your neck.

He rests on his back, as much as the armchair allows him to, and you keep him into place with your hand, the other one busy lining him at your entrance.

The moment you sink down on him, you both release a sigh. With your eyes closed, you fail to see the way Jaehyun is looking up at you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glossy, — the way you’re squeezing and pulsating around him makes his breath halt into his throat, jaw setting while looking down between your bodies at the way you’re taking him in so easily, moving your hips in a sinful motion. 

The sting of the stretching fuels the burning you feel in your lower abdomen, like you’re ready to snap anytime already. It prompts you to plant the soles of your feet flat on each side of Jaehyun’s hips, and the motion has him hitting a new angle inside of you, one that has you seeing stars and your cunt squeezes him hungrily as you move up and down his cock.

The obscene squelch of your cunt taking all of him with ease is arousing, and your hands travel on his chest for support, touching his nipples and getting a whimper out of Jaehyun, one that you’ve never heard. He’s sensitive, both south of his loins and on his chest, and he has to fight and set his jaw not to release into you.

“I’m close,” he warns, and the sounds you make are enough to make his dick twitch inside of you, “Won’t be able to last any longer, my love,” 

“I don’t want you to,” you let out a breathy moan, your hand travelling between your folds to rub circles on your clit, giving yourself a helping hand, “Just let go,”

And the moment your release hits you, cunt squeezing around him like a vice — thanks to your motions on your fingers, — Jaehyun groans, spilling strings of his own release inside of you, melting in the way you keep pulsing around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

Keeping him inside of you, you fall on top of him, knees on each of his sides, and your face touches his shoulder, resting against it. 

“You learned Schumann’s piece for me?” You ask, your question distorted by the way he’s still keeping you against his skin, cheek squished against his shoulder, and all Jaehyun wants is to kiss your pouting lips.

“That’s all you remember from the past half an hour?” He squints his eyes down at you, but his tone is playful.

You grab his chin, pushing yourself up to reach his lips, “Your technique is rusty, but you have some more centuries to learn it!” You giggle, hand falling back in the crook of his neck, and you let out a content sigh.

You’re exactly where you were always meant to be, both you and Jaehyun, sticking to each other, ready to navigate eternity hand in hand.

[bananinhazz]

ExBoyfriend!Haechan x Reader (smut)

WC: 2.8k, JUST SMUT, Dom haechan (although he seems pathetic at first lol), unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, spanking, mentions of spitting and oral gagging, degradation

Haechan shows up at your door begging for sex after you broke up, but the dynamic changes the second he realizes you've been missing him too.

They were the exes everyone envied.

No drama. No shouting matches or deleted photos. When Haechan and Y/N broke up, it was with soft words and sad smiles, both of them knowing it wasn’t the right time, even if the feelings were still there. They promised to be civil, mature. Promised not to make things weird for their friend group. And somehow, they meant it.

They said hey when they saw each other at parties. Not cold or awkward—just casual. Familiar. Like two people who knew each other intimately and had decided not to let that ruin everything else.

He’d bring a drink to her at a group hangout before walking off to joke with his friends. She’d compliment his new haircut without hesitation, even if it made her stomach tighten to see him smile like that. There was no tension, no animosity.

But sometimes—when the others weren’t looking—he’d glance at her just a little too long. She’d pretend not to notice. Pretend she didn’t still remember how his hands felt dragging down her spine or how his voice sounded when he was desperate and close.

They didn’t text. Didn’t call. Didn’t touch.

So when the knock came at 11PM, Y/N wasn’t expecting him.

She opened the door in an oversized t-shirt and fuzzy socks, half a face mask still on, and froze.

Haechan stood on her porch like he’d run here—hair swooped up to show off his forehead just how she used to like it, a tight black t-shirt hugging his lean torso, grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips, slung loose and casual like he didn’t know exactly what that did to her. He looked flustered. But also… determined.

“Haechan?”

He didn’t speak. Just looked at her like he couldn’t believe she was real. Then—

He dropped to his knees.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “What—what are you doing?”

“I need you.”

His voice was raw, low, almost broken. His hands pressed together like he was praying. Or begging.

“I’m serious. I—I can’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t—” He swallowed. “I haven’t had sex since you. I can’t. Nothing feels right. I can’t even jerk off without thinking about you—your body, your moans, the way you clenched around me when you came.”

Her mouth fell open, stunned. Heat rushed to her face—and lower. “Haechan—”

“Please,” he whispered, eyes lifting to meet hers. “Just once. I’ll leave right after. Just let me have you again.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” He stood, slow and steady, and stepped into her space. “You think I’d humiliate myself like this for a joke?”

He was so close now she could smell him—fresh and clean with a trace of cologne she still remembered. Her body betrayed her instantly, skin prickling, thighs pressing together.

“We said we’d be friends,” she whispered.

“I don’t want to be your friend tonight,” he said, voice soft, but firm. “I want to make you come until you forget why we ever stopped.”

She gasped, stepping back on instinct, but he followed her inside, closing the door with a quiet click. His eyes never left hers, his gaze heavy and full of want. He moved toward her with slow, calculated confidence, licking his lips just before speaking.

“I knew you still wanted me,” he murmured.

Her breath hitched.

He smiled.

“I see the way you look at me,” he said, closing the distance again. “You think I don’t notice? The way your eyes drop to my mouth, or how your thighs press together when I stretch in front of you?”

She backed up until her legs hit the couch.

“Haechan—”

“You’ve been thinking about it too,” he said, voice low, smug. “How I used to touch you. How I’d make you come so hard you’d cry.”

His fingers brushed her bare thigh—barely there, featherlight. Then again, higher.

She gasped.

He smiled wider. “Knew it.”

Her knees nearly buckled.

“Let’s talk,” she said, but it came out breathless.

“Sure,” he said, leading her down to the couch like he had all the time in the world. “Let’s talk.”

But the moment they sat, his fingers found her again—stroking the inside of her thigh slowly, gently, eyes locked on hers like a dare.

“God, you’re already warm,” he whispered. “You missed this. Missed me.”

She bit her lip, hips shifting without thinking, breath catching when his touch skimmed higher—until the tips of his fingers brushed right over her panties.

And she gasped.

That’s when it hit him.

His whole expression changed—soft desperation bleeding into something cocky and sharp.

“I knew it,” he said, voice low and full of filthy satisfaction. “I fucking knew you wanted me too." Haechan whispered, fingers still pressing over her panties, slowly rubbing small, teasing circles. 

“You’re soaked through, baby. What were you doing before I got here? Thinking about me?”

She whimpered, hips lifting instinctively, chasing his touch.

He chuckled darkly, brushing his nose along her jaw as he spoke. “You could’ve had anyone. I know you’ve been out, getting hit on, looking pretty like this—but you’re still here. Still wet for me.”

His hand slipped beneath the waistband, and she gasped when his fingers slid through the slick heat between her folds.

“Shit,” he breathed, voice cracking with how wet she was. “I barely touched you.”

“Haechan,” she moaned, clinging to his shirt.

He kissed her—deep and messy, tongue sliding into her mouth like he already owned her. His fingers moved with ease, stroking and circling her clit just right, two knuckles deep before she even had time to catch her breath.

“No one gets you like I do,” he said against her lips, voice low, cocky, filthy. “No one ever fucking will.”

He pulled back to look at her—eyes dark and blown wide with lust, lips swollen from kissing her too hard.

“You know I could’ve fucked around, right?” he said, fingers curling inside her in a slow, devastating rhythm. “Girls were begging for it. But I couldn’t. Because none of them sound like you. None of them look at me like you do when I’m inside you.”

Her eyes rolled back as he hit just the right spot, her walls fluttering around him.

“That’s right,” he whispered, dragging his lips down her neck. “You need me.”

She was nodding before she realized it, her hips grinding down into his hand like her life depended on it.

“I’d fuck you anywhere right now,” he growled. “On this couch. On the floor. Up against your damn door. Just say it—say you want me again.”

“Please,” she gasped, arching her back, thighs trembling. “Please—fuck me, Haechan—”

He groaned like the sound of it hurt. “God, I missed the way you beg.”

He pulled his hand from between her legs, shoving his sweatpants down just enough to free himself—and her breath caught.

He was hard, thick, flushed and already leaking, heavy in his palm. The memory of him inside her crashed over her like a wave—stretching, filling, ruining.

He caught her staring and smirked. “You remember how full you get, don’t you?”

She whimpered.

“Could’ve had anyone,” he said again, cocky, dragging the tip of him through her soaked folds, lining himself up. “But we always crawl back, don’t we? You’re mine, baby. You know that.”

And then he sank into her—slow and thick and deep, inch by inch.

She choked on a moan, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, head dropping to her neck. “Still the tightest fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Goddamn.”

He didn’t move at first, just stayed there, buried deep, letting her pulse around him while he kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, her throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget we ever broke up,” he murmured. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come on this dick begging me to stay.”

She couldn’t answer—only moan, legs wrapping around him to pull him closer.

“Look at you,” he groaned as he started to move, slow and deep, dragging his hips back and slamming in again. “So fucked out already and I’ve barely started. You’re so mine.”

And she was.

Every roll of his hips knocked her higher. Every filthy word he whispered made her tighter, wetter, more addicted.

She couldn't stop moaning his name—like a prayer, like a curse, like she’d die if he stopped.

They were a mess—sweat and slick skin, breathless gasps and gasping kisses. And it felt so right.

“I love how you fuckin’ take it,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Like you were made for me.”

“I was,” she cried, clawing at his back. “I am—I’m yours, Haechan—don’t stop—”

That snapped something in him.

“Say it again,” he demanded, fucking into her harder now. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped. “Only yours—always.”

He moaned like he was coming undone just hearing it.

“You were made for me,” he breathed. “Tight little pussy, perfect moans, all of you. I’m never letting anyone else have you again.”

They both reached their climax together, faster than usual after not having each other for months.

Haechan’s thrusts slowed, hips grinding deep once more before he pulled out, chest heaving. His skin was flushed, tanned and glistening with sweat, a few strands of hair sticking to his forehead now out of place, lips parted and slick from kissing her breathless.

He sat back on the couch like he owned it—sprawled out, sweatpants tugged low, thighs wide, cock resting thick and soaked against his abs. His hand pushed his hair back, lazy and smug.

And fuck, he looked so good like this—ruined and cocky. Like he knew damn well he’d blown her mind.

Y/N sank to her knees before she even realized she was doing it, eyes locked on him the entire time. Her thighs were trembling, breath ragged, body still tingling from the stretch of him inside her.

Haechan raised a brow, smirking.

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” he murmured, watching her crawl between his legs. “God, look at you—on your knees again, just like old times.”

She didn’t speak. Just wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, warm and still twitching from how hard he was. Her thumb swiped through the mess of their combined slick at the tip, watching him shiver.

“Fucking filthy,” he hissed, head dropping back against the couch for a moment. “You love this shit. Love how nasty we are.”

She did. She loved how he tasted, how he smelled, how he groaned and tangled his hand in her hair the second her tongue flattened against the head and dragged slow, deliberate circles around it.

He sucked in a breath, hand fisting tighter.

“Shit, baby—slow like that? Been thinking about this for months.”

She moaned around him, taking more, letting her lips stretch wide as she sank down his length. Her spit coated him quickly, sticky and wet, dripping down her chin as she started bobbing her head, slow and sloppy, savoring every second.

“God damn, you’re good at this,” he groaned. “No one’s ever made me feel like this. No one even comes close.”

He lifted his hips slightly to meet her mouth, and she gagged just a little, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. He loved that.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “So fucking desperate to taste me again. Who else would let me fuck their throat like this and still look so pretty?”

She pulled off for a second, spit connecting her lips to his cock. “No one,” she whispered, breathless, eyes dark. “Only me.”

“Damn right.”

He let her take him again, deeper this time, his thighs tense and trembling as she sucked him down, spit and slick everywhere. Her hand stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach, twisting, squeezing just the way he liked.

“We’re sick,” he groaned, head rolling back again. “No one can satisfy us like this. Doesn’t matter who we try to move on with—we always come back.”

She moaned around him in agreement.

And then he gasped—hips jerking—his hand tightening in her hair as he came down her throat, moaning her name like a prayer. She swallowed every drop, staying on him, mouth warm and full until he twitched and hissed from overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking down at her. “That was—god, baby.”

She slowly pulled off with a pop, wiping her mouth, eyes glassy and lips swollen.

Then she crawled right up into his lap, straddling his hips with no hesitation.

His hands were instantly everywhere—gripping her ass, her thighs, her waist—dragging her down to press against him, already getting hard again from the way she looked at him.

“Still needy?” he teased, voice hoarse.

She didn’t answer. Just kissed him.

Filthy. Messy. Tongue and teeth and spit. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him like she needed him now, hands tangled in his messy hair.

He grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against him as they kissed again and again, gasping for breath between each one only to dive right back in like they were starving.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lips dragging down to her jaw. “We’re so fucked up.”

“We’re perfect,” she whispered, biting his lower lip. “I need you.”

“Always,” he promised, kissing her again. “I’m yours.”

....

Y/N didn’t waste a second.

Her hands tangled in his messy hair as she rocked against him, grinding over his cock until he was hard again beneath her, thick and ready. Haechan leaned back just a little on the couch, one arm thrown lazily over the backrest, the other gripping her ass, helping her move against him. He looked smug—completely in control—even as he groaned at the way she moved.

“I knew it,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “You missed this. Missed me.”

He lined himself up again, not even needing a hand with how soaked she still was, and she sank down slow—moaning out loud as he filled her again, deep and hot and perfect.

The stretch burned, the way it always had—that delicious, overwhelming pressure that made her feel like she was being split open, claimed all over again.

She was panting already, fingernails digging into his arms as she adjusted to him, her walls fluttering around him uncontrollably.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, watching her face, lips parted and glossy, lashes fluttering. “Yeah, you really missed this dick, huh?”

She glared at him, even as she started riding him—hips rising and dropping slowly, her moans slipping between them like confessions.

He leaned in and kissed her, filthy and possessive, his hands roaming her back, her thighs, her ass. He licked into her mouth between gasps, then kissed down her throat, sucking a mark at her collarbone just because he could.

But when her rhythm faltered—just slightly, overwhelmed by the drag and burn of his cock—his palm came down on her ass with a sharp smack.

She gasped, eyes wide.

He grinned.

“No slowing down,” he said, voice thick and teasing. “You started this. Ride me like you mean it.”

She scowled, cheeks flushed—but picked up the pace.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “God, I love this view. Tits bouncing, face all wrecked. No one else gets to see you like this.”

His thumb dragged across her nipple, teasing and circling while his other hand gripped her waist tight, guiding her up and down on his cock until the couch creaked beneath them.

Her moans got louder, more desperate. She leaned in to kiss him again, messy and hungry, but when she slowed again, overwhelmed by the intensity—

Smack.

Another spank, just enough sting to make her whimper.

“Can’t help it, can you?” he grinned, lips brushing hers. “Too cockdrunk already?”

She bit his lip in retaliation, making him groan.

“Fuck—there’s that attitude,” he laughed breathlessly. “Still my brat. My needy, soaking wet little brat who loves getting punished.”

He leaned forward and licked a stripe up her neck, making her shiver.

“I can feel you clenching every time I spank you,” he whispered against her skin. “You like it.”

Her hands were everywhere now—roaming up his arms, digging into his biceps, smoothing across his chest and abs, memorizing the way his muscles flexed under her touch. She cupped his face too, dragging her thumb over his bottom lip as he sucked it slowly into his mouth, eyes dark with hunger.

“You’re so fucking hot,” she whispered, grinding down harder now, chasing her release. “You’re mine.”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, “you own me.”

She rode him faster now, sloppier, his cock hitting that perfect spot every single time, her moans breaking apart into ragged gasps as the pleasure coiled hot and tight in her belly.

“That’s it,” he panted, watching her lose it. “Come on this dick again. Let me feel you fall apart.”

And with one more deep stroke and a filthy kiss, she did—crying out his name, thighs trembling, body clenching so tight around him that he lost it too, groaning loudly as he spilled deep inside her.

They collapsed into each other, shaking, breathless, completely ruined.

And yet—Haechan was still grinning against her mouth, whispering against her lips:

“Still think we can stay friends after this?”

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

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Sneak peak of part 2:

“You think I could ever forget a girl like that?” he laughed breathlessly. “You think I could move on when I’ve had my cock down your throat, when I’ve seen the way you beg to be choked, the way you smile when I spit in your mouth?”

Her moan turned into a cry, hands gripping his hair, his neck, anything she could hold as he slammed into her again.

“I know you, baby,” he whispered, voice cracking from how wrecked he was. “You’ve got everyone else fooled. Sweet little Y/N. But no one knows what a filthy freak you are for me.”

Access the full story here!

[bananinhazz]

Drew Starkey and actress!reader are dating for a long time now, he's invited to be present at the premiere of the film where his girlfriend and Jacob Elordi are part of the cast. Drew gets kinda jealous of the chemistry between them, during the scenes of the film, the interviews, the fans who ship them...even he knows they're just a good working duo and he's a good guy...

(Also it's a bit similar to how reader felt between Drew and Odessa cause they're very close each other, except that with Jacob it's much more faithful than they are...)

Can you write this please 🙏

jealousy jealously - DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for this request. please let me know what you think of it. i haven't written something like this before and it was cool to write for sure. i hope you like what i wrote and it was what you hoped. sorry it took awhile for me to upload this, i had the request saved in my docs and finally got to it. feed back is always appreciated &lt;3

requests are open

summary you are staring in a movie alongside jacob elordi. your boyfriend of two years, drew starkey, gets a little jealous of the chemistry between jacob and you even though he knows you two are good working partners.

warnings jealousy, kissing, acting, mentions of sex

Tonight is the red carpet premiere of your new movie, which will be released in theaters all around the world tomorrow. You are one of the main characters in the movie, and your co-star, Jacob Eldori, another main character and love interest.

You can't wait till tonight since the movie has been the talk of the town for months. The actors and fans are thrilled that the film will be released tomorrow. You and the cast are seeing it tonight, and we can't wait to see how it turns out.

Everyone is welcome to bring a guest. Drew Starkey, your two-year boyfriend, will be your plus one for the premiere. He is also an actor, well known for his role as Rafe Cameron in the Netflix series Outer Banks. He was so happy when you invited him.

The outfit you have on tonight is a lovely long black dress that falls to your feet and is complemented by black high heels with sparkle. Your makeup artist and you settled on a more natural look that will make your eyes stand out more. The hair is curled.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," Drew said, holding your hand and lightly squeezing it as you two came to a complete stop in the SUV.

Your heart melted hearing those words, “thank you bubs, I love you so much,” smiling up at him.

“I love you more though,” he playfully argues back, grinning.

The entire cast was already getting their pictures taken on the red carpet along with other well-known celebrities. You can tell how crowded it is outside just by gazing out the window.

When you first went onto the carpet, you took a few solo photos before moving on to photos with Drew. The paparazzi's lights flashed back and forth, calling your name and uttering weird things in order to get you to turn in their direction.

The film's director and producer requested everyone to gather for a group photo for the paparazzi. Seeing everyone was the icing on the cake for you. Promoting the movie with them was a blast. It's a joy to be able to collaborate with such talented actors too. 

Jacob approached you when you were talking with your manager, Britney, about giving a couple of interviews, engaging with fans, taking a group cast photo, and then stepping into the venue. Drew was next to you, his right hand on your lower back, but drew you closer when Jacob approached.

Drew's body tenseens as he holds you tight. You place your hand on his free hand, gently stroking it with your thumb to reassure him. The only reason he acts this way is because he sees how Jacob looks at you when he knows you are with Drew.

“You are okay, don’t worry” you whispered so only Drew can hear.

“You have nothing to worry about baby,”

Drew feels the same way about Jacob as you did about Drew and Odessa when they began filming Helrasier. The opening scene of the movie made you uneasy since your partner was having sex with someone who wasn't you, but it wasn't real, just acting. Reading how many fans shipped them when they found out Drew and you were together.

You understand why he’s feeling this way. It’s not a good feeling to feel. Both of you have been in the acting business for a few years now and know everything’s professional.

Jacob knows his boundaries and only sees you as a friend.

As you saw the two tall guys in front of you shake hands, Jacob was asking about how things were going in Outer Banks season four filming. Drew will keep things professional no matter what, and he will keep his sentiments within you.

Jacob leaned in for an embrace, "have you spoken to any interviews yet?" he asks, pointing back with his thumb. "No, not yet, but will be soon, you?" you respond.

"No, not yet, but I heard they're asking some good questions and some that are questionable," he says hesitantly when questioned about the specific questions that may be asked.

You three had a lovely talk until Britney informed you that it was time for the interviews. You spoke with five different interviewers, and during those interviews, some of them questioned Jacobs and your friendship because the chemistry between you two is strong, talked about the film and how excited you are for everyone to see it, what it's like working with the cast, and, of course, Drew.

"One question I have to ask because fans have been begging me to specifically mention this to you," the interviewer laughs, catching you off guard by the first part of her sentence, "will you be appearing on your boyfriend's Netflix series, Outer Banks?" You couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Ahh, you are not the first person to ask me this question today," you add, adjusting your hair, "I guess you would have to wait and see if I’m on the show or not this upcoming season” shrugging your shoulders with a grin.

Everyone in the theater room was waiting for the movie to begin. The director stood next to the screen giving a small speech about the movie. Drew sat next to you, his left hand resting on your thigh and gently rubbing it with his thumb.

"Before the movie begins, I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you and everything you have accomplished to get to where you are now, baby." Drew whispers in your ear, then kisses your cheek a few times. 

You felt your face get red from his compliment. Drew told you multiple times this week how proud he is of you. Both of you have been so supportive of each other since before you got in a relationship.

“I love you bubs” you smile before kissing his lips.

When the lights dimmed down everyone cheered with excitement.

When you landed the part and read the script, you told Drew about the two parts in the movie where your character and Jacobs' character have sex. As a result, he was already prepared for these scenes in the film.

The movie has been great, everything you thought. You are so proud of your hard work and everyone else’s hard work that was put into this movie. Once the lights turned on, everyone around started cheering and clapping.

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[bananinhazz]

clingy/needy yushi...😵‍💫😵‍💫

clingy yushi thoughts ₊˚⊹

content: fluff, gn reader, not proofread (lmk if u spot any mistakes!)

not a huge fan of physical touch in public, but when you guys are going out with friends he INSISTS he has to sit next to you in the booth, making sure he's holding your hand at all times under the table except when he has to let go

views you as royalty..you're so important to him and he loves to show it silently. always staring at you with awe when you're explaining things to him, being patient with you always, exchanging quiet smiles with you

i feel like he'd love to be little spoon when you guys are cuddling but never wants to say it out loud. he always drops subtle hints and when you finally give in he feels like the luckiest man in the world

lovesss receiving massages after a long day (and giving them of course). he just wants you in his embrace and running your hands through his hair, or gently across his back

loves going on late night walks with you. he loves when he can just hold you close to him while getting a breath of fresh air together, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. you feel like home to him.

i miss you texts..like a lot. just leaving home to go to practice? he'll send u a text. during practice? he'll make an excuse to go to the "bathroom" just so he can text u to see what you're up to. during breaks, best believe hes gonna be calling you the whole time.

he always makes sure to document when he leaves too, taking selfies with members at practice, himself. letting you know what he's doing, etc.

carries your things without you having to ask. he sees this as a quiet way of showing his love and being close to you when you guys are out together, wanting to show you that he's always there for you.

when the day is over, be prepared for him to attack you with kisses all over, his way of showing he missed you before you fall asleep in each others arms

a/n: hey yallll.....its been quite a bit!!! hopefully this will suffice as i slowly try to hack away at the drafts i have..i love yushi so hopefully i did him justice, bear with me as i get back into the groove of things, im a bit rusty <3 feedback always appreciated

[bananinhazz]

soccer player!yushi imagine 𖥔

pairing: tokuno yushi x reader (gender neutral reader)

wc: 796

warnings: cringey, not proofread, y/n is kind of an idiot

you've been crushing on the new transfer student like CRAZY lately.

he sits right next to you in your econ class so you have approximately an hour to steal glances at his perfectly sculpted face

you've talked exactly 4 times

the first time you asked for a pencil, the second he asked you for some of your notes, the third time you both complained about your professor, and the four time you just asked him what his soccer position is

yes you can count how many times you've had a conversation on one hand but you are INFATUATED with this man

one time you were walking back to your dorm and passed by the soccer field

you saw yushi effortlessly kicking the ball, calves deliciously flexing, his raven black hair damp from sweat, and that boyish smile that make you want to CHOKE AND DIE

god you probably looked so creepy just standing behind the fence

and now here you are, stalking his ig like the fbi

you didn't expect him to have a lot of highlights but were still very much disappointed when you saw that he has NO PROFILE PICTURE AND A HIGHLIGHT ONLY FULL OF SUNSETS AND NICE VIEWS

godDAMNIT why do the finest men never post themselves?????

you know that feeling when you know damn well that you can't pull a certain person no matter how hard you try

yeah that just hit

uve heard about a bunch of girls trying to ask him out already

like moka, rei, haerin

how are you ever going to compete??? might as well just give up

you sigh and scream into your pillow

—

you take a seat in your econ class

ugh you woke up late today

AND yushi isn't here

what is the purpose of life at this point

wait what's this on your chair

it's a small post it note

'hey y/n :) i have a game tonight at 6pm, if you'd like to come. - yushi'

im sorry what

i mean yes you wanna go but ??

this is so weird

now the question is: what do you WEAR?!!?!?

—

safe to say you spent an hour and a half deciding on what to wear

also safe to say you chose an outfit you literally ALWAYS wear

you take a seat in the middle of the stands because the front is packed with families and the back with people from your classes

and you look kinda chopped rn so u'd rather not talk to them

ugh you should've asked someone to go with u

—

yushi's been scanning the crowd for 5 minutes

where the hell are you??

he's squinting like it'll help

"maybe she just didn't come" riku says besides him

they're currently warming up

yushi smacks riku on the shoulder

well now he's overthinking

he was making it so damn obvious he likes you!!

he posted a story at the beach you frequent + put one of your favorite songs in the background

he asked you for notes once as an excuse to talk to you

he sits next to you in econ even though sion and jaehee are in the SAME CLASS

he even wipes the table and chair down with the extra kleenex he keeps in his bag because for some reason the person that sits there in the previous lecture always leaves crumbs

okay yeah it was not obvious at all

crap the match is gonna start

he skims the crowd with his eyes one more time

THERE YOU ARE FINALLY

thank god

now he's all warmed up

LET'S GOOOO

—

so they won by a landslide

and yushi scored the most points

WOW

that's your man!!!!

well time to go home

he probably just needed someone to cheer for him lol

you're walking in the parking lot when you hear a voice

"y/n!"

you turn around

um

why is tokuno yushi literally right in front of you

"oh, hi yushi! good job out there, by the way. i'm proud of you"

he smiles and you feel your knees go weak

"thanks. i'm glad you came to support me."

"of course!"

"there's something i've been meaning to ask you.."

you quirk your head to the side

"would you like to go out to lunch sometime?"

WHAT

does he mean as a date?????

"as a date."

oh HAHAH okay

okay......

why do you feel so light headed

oh god

the blood is draining from your face

why is your vision going black

—

so you passed out

and when you wake up you're in yushi's car

he's fanning you and there's an ice pack on your forehead

this is so embarrassing you want to evaporate

"i'm sorry, that was sudden, wasn't it?"

"nO you're good! i was just surprised that YOU like me i mean you'resogoodlookingidon'tknowhowyoucouldeverlikeme wait you didn't even SAY that you liked me you just asked me out to lunch haha i'm sorry-"

"y/n, breathe. yes, i do like you. why would i ask you out on a date if i didn't?"

oh yeah he's right

okay INHALE EXHALE

"i'd love to go out with you."

yushi smiles softly

"it's settled then."

YAAAAAYYYYY

"oh, and y/n?"

"yes?"

"please don't pass out like that on me again, i almost got a heart attack."

"no promises"

—

author’s note: heeeyyy guyyssss…. yes this is my 2nd drabble/blurb ever written and yes it’s still yushi LOL i just love him so much he deserves everything! if u enjoyed reading please like or reblog!!! have an amazing night :))

[bananinhazz]

princess treatment with nct wish (but it's stupid)

pairings: nct wish hyung line x f!reader

warnings: jokes abt hitting someone, fluff, crack, pinching riku's ear bc he's loud as hell

wc: 671 (haha six seeven)

oh sion:

SPRINTS to any door while cackling like a maniac because he knows you get embarrassed when he opens doors for you

"m'lady," he says while tipping an imaginary hat, trying SO HARD not to laugh

"oh sion, i'm going to smACK you across the head."

holds all your purses and bags for you and pretends like they're dumbbells, lifting them up while unnecessarily shaking

"babe, make sure to spot me!" his biceps are flexing as if the bags are heavy... and did some sweat just roll down his temple??

"let's go HOME, sion."

"no, wait! just four more reps!'

"H O M E."

"I NEED TO BEAT MY PR!!!"

what a drama queen oh my god

you pretend you don't know him in public

boyfriend? you don't have one

always keeps an extra pair of footwear in his car just in case your feet start hurting, but sometimes he forgets so instead he piggybacks you

"don't worry babe, i always come prepared!" he opens the trunk of his car and there are no shoes in sight

"...well not today bUT i can just carry you!" he says proudly, but the sheepish smile on his face gives him away

"it's okay babe, i'll just go barefoot" you suggest

"what? NO! yOU CANT WHAT IF SOMETHING PRICKS YOUR FOOT-"

"we'll be walking on sand, sion."

"nonono, i'll carry you. i insist."

"we can't enjoy a stroll along the beach when you have to carry my weight on your back" you deadpan

"who said we can't?"

you sigh, but the smile on your face betrays you anyway

turns out he was right, you can enjoy walks on the beach even while sion piggybacks you

maeda riku

kisses the back of your hand before a date like you're a disney princess

"you look absolutely dashing tonight, my love," he coos while he presses kisses to your knuckles

"okay, prince charming," you say with a laugh

makes you link arms with him when out in public

he's literally TERRIFIED to lose you in the crowd even if you're grown

when you let go his breaths get short and he starts sweating and he feels like he's getting pale

but in reality you're literally in the next aisle like girl bye

"honey??? WHERE'D YOU GO??? HONEEYY-"

"MAEDA RIKU STOP SCREAMING!!"

"PRINCESS WHERE ARE YOU COME BACK!!?!!?"

you RUN to the aisle where riku is and pinch his ear before linking your arm with his

"oh, there you are."

"i'm never coming to this store again, they're gonna think i have a crazy ass boyfriend."

ties your shoes for you all the time. and i mean ALL the time.

"baby wait, your shoes are untied."

"huh? but i'm wearing heels?" you question

he kneels down and literally ties imaginary shoelaces

keep in mind this is all in a public server

you grAB riku's arm and pull him up

"you just love embarrassing me, don't you?"

he gives you the signature grandpa laugh and you can't help but laugh back

"always."

tokuno yushi

pays for everything no matter how stupidly low or high the price is

"allow me," yushi says as he pulls out his card

"...this are floss picks? that are 3 bucks????"

"allow me." he repeats

"oh my god- i literally have my card out already-" you push his arm and begin to insert your card into the reader

ur bf basically SNATCHES it out without saying a word and puts his own card in

"doesn't matter, i'm paying anyway."

lets you decorate all his things

ALL his things

one day he goes to brush his teeth

um why does his toothbrush have stickers on them??

"love? did you put these on here?"

"noooo..." you say while holding the sticker sheet behind you

he laughs and rolls his eyes playfully

"it's cute. i like it. it's cute."

"you said 'it's cute' twice."

"i take it back, it's hideous."

has a lot of your frequently used products on hand

"crap, i forgot my dry shampoo!" he shoves the mini dry shampoo bottle into your face

"oh! thanks, baby. what the hell? where did my brush go-"

"here." "thank you! ugh, you're an angel. i keep losing my stuff!"

he totally does NOT take your essentials out of your bag so he can be the one to provide

haha that would be weird

(yushi took it all out before you left the house)

-

author's note: WOOO HAPPY 10 FOLLOWERS EVERYONE 🥳🥳🥳🥳 thank you for all the love on my other posts i cannot believe the amount of likes i'm getting!! again, please feel free to send requestsss!! like or reblog if you enjoyed! i love you all soooo much and have a good night! :))

[bananinhazz]

yushi + thighs ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

in any position, yushi’s hands are on your thighs. always. he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it, just squeezing and stroking his palms against your skin. there’s something about how soft you are, how easy you give yourself to him, how your legs tremble when he pushes you just a little further — he can’t help himself. your moans sound too pretty, and your reactions are oh so sweet; whimpering for more like it’s second nature, and every time you do, his own flesh sinks a little deeper into yours. deeper into you.

it’s not even about the sex anymore. it’s you letting him touch and take that has him going insane. and god, the way you spread your legs without him even needing to ask makes something rise in his chest that’s a little too intense to name. he’s spent his whole life trying to catch up to everyone around him, always one step behind — but with you, you meet him halfway. you give, and he happily takes, over and over again, kissing up your thighs until they’re marked up and trembling around his shoulders, holding you still as you gasp and cry out for him, while your thighs wrap tightly around his head keeping him exactly where he’s meant to be.

[bananinhazz]

THE WAY OF THE HOUSEHUSBAND | na jaemin ─ part 6

SYNOPSIS: jaemin — gangster, but also your husband — really wants to have children, but you're not ready to become the perfect housewife and raise the family he wants to build with you. so, it becomes clear to him that he has to make a compromise and retire from the criminal world and, consequently, become your perfect househusband.

PAIRING: husband!jaemin x female!reader

GENRE: fluff, marriage!au, dad!jaemin, suggestive

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

CONTAINS: mentions of jaemin being a gangster, jaemin continues his scary gangster but yearner cutie husband agenda. appearances of few of the neos. moving houses, pregnant and frequently emotional reader. suggestive thoughts.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: yn in this? super hot mama. jaemin in this? super hot papa. masterlist linked at the end. not proofread (yet) </3 enjoy!

©️ KONGJJEN 2024 - 2025. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

Ever since you got pregnant — about two months after you finally agreed with Jaemin’s wishes of starting a family — Jaemin has been in a good, ecstatic mood. Your husband dropped the sighing, the angry and hostile attitude he had towards most people, he was no longer moody. He smiled more, he hummed songs when he took out the trash, he walked around like he was actually walking on clouds.

The first trimester was good, except for the fact that you couldn’t stand some foods and even just the thought of them made you hurl. You kept working, just like Jaemin promised you were going to, and he kept working his crazy hours as well.

Then the second trimester came, and Jaemin started being fidgety. The ultrasound meant to establish the gender of your baby was two weeks away when you heard him sighing for the first time in months.

“Is everything okay, Jaem?” You asked him, looking at him from your spot on the couch.

He bit his lip, pausing the show he was watching, and he turned his head to look at you. “Should I quit my job?” He blurted, tone concerned.

You shook in your spot, looking at him quizzically, “Is this what you want? To quit?” 

You had this talk so many times after agreeing to the whole baby thing. You could still go to work up to your last trimester, and Jaemin was going to keep his job up to the end of your pregnancy, and then he’d stay at home and raise the baby. But you were just in the middle of your second trimester, and there was still a long way to go until Jaemin could quit his job, yet he kept bringing it up.

“When do you wanna quit?” You inquire, moving on the couch to have a better look at him. You body language was relaxed, so Jaemin knew you were calm and open to having this discussion. 

“Tomorrow,” he kept facing the tv, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see your reaction.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated after him. Your tone was so flat that Jaemin had to move his head so he could have a better look at your face. 

“I know we talked about this,” he jumped off the couch, pacing back and forth in front of the tv like he was going insane, “But we need to start looking for a house. We can’t have a baby here,” he started counting on his fingers, the other free hand combing through his hair, “We need space, we need a back yard so the baby can get in touch with nature. We need more rooms, one more bathroom for the baby,” he rambled, eyebrows furrowing, “Perhaps even an attic,”

“You need to calm down,” your voice was soft, your characteristic tenderness bringing him some comfort.

“If I don’t quit my job, then who’s going to pack all this stuff up?” He made a gesture with his hand, showing you around the living room, “Who’s going to take care of moving and unpacking and decorating the nursery?”

“You really need to breathe in between sentences,” you joked, getting back to staying comfortably on the couch.

“Listen,” you started, bringing your hand to your belly in an unconscious motion, “You can quit your job tomorrow, but you can also keep it until the baby is here. Either way, we’ll figure things out, together,” 

And that was all your husband needed, a little reassuring words coming from you, with an undertone of bossing him around. 

The both of you were able to keep your jobs, with Jaemin coming back home from night shifts every time you craved something. Ice cream, weird foods, — you name it, he always brought it home as soon as he could. 

Jaemin took you house hunting every other day, and while you didn’t really care and agreed to every single one, your husband carried the properties’ leaflets left and right as he asked questions to the real estate agents. Is this a safe neighbourhood? Are there good schools in this district? Is the house prone to mold infestation? What about the previous owners, did they have kids or did they perhaps die in one of the rooms in the house? And you just stood there, arms crossed over your now bigger belly as you waved one of the many leaflets to make some air and soothe the horrible discomfort the hot weather caused you.

Then the third trimester came, and you kept your promise and stayed at home. The house you and Jaemin bought was huge, with a big garden, located in a safe and welcoming neighbourhood, — exactly what Jaemin wanted. While the house was undergoing some renovations, friends and family helped you with packing everything at your old apartment, but Jaemin did most of the job.

You weren’t allowed to pick up heavy stuff, only wrapping the small, delicate china items in bubble wrap or newspapers, maybe even writing down on boxes with a black marker.

And today’s the day, the day you are finally moving all your stuff to the new house. 

But the nerves Jaemin has had throughout your pregnancy were transferred to you, because as you waited inside the new house for the moving trucks to bring all your furniture and boxes full of stuff, you look at your husband and you’re suddenly worried about how he’s going to move everything around the house.

“What’s wrong?” Jaemin panics after hearing you sniffling a few times. He’s in front of you in a millisecond, eyebrows furrowed with worry, “Is the baby causing you trouble? Are you tired?” 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you cry, forehead slamming against his chest as you hug him.

“What?” He doesn’t know what has gotten into you. He was doing absolutely nothing to have you worried this much, “What are you talking about?” 

You sniff, hugging him tighter, “How will you do this on your own? I don’t want you to get hurt,” just the thought of him straining a muscle or having all sorts of aches by the end of moving in, makes your eyes brim with tears once again.

“Oh, little baby,” he babies you, grabbing both sides of your face to gently blow some air on your face. “There’s nothing to worry about! Your very handsome husband will be fine,” his words make you gulp all the tears down.

“I don’t think I worded it that way,” you pull away after he ruins the moment, and you sniff all residues of  tears away. 

“Potato, potato,” he rolls his eyes at you, and then gives you a comforting smile. “But seriously, you shouldn’t worry about this type of stuff, I have everything sorted,”

“How so?” You’re confused, and just when he’s about to open his mouth to explain, there’s a knock on your front door.

“Ah! They’re here!” Jaemin moves quickly, and you follow behind him, too curious about your guests.

As your husband opens the door, you see a few heads moving to look at the two of you.

“You’re late!” You husband accuses, his tone low and menacing. “You should have been here like… twenty minutes ago!” 

“But we’re here now, aren't we?” Haechan rolls his eyes at him, and he’s the first to enter your new house. He lets out a whistle looking around the empty space, and then his eyes land on you. 

“You made my wife worry and cry!” Jaemin barks at him, and Haechan’s gaze moves away from you so he can look at your husband.

Haechan’s head snaps in your direction, sporting his big eyes and a pout. “Oh no! No need to worry, mama! We’re here to help,” 

Jeno sighs, giving you an apologetic look, but he takes a few steps towards you nonetheless, engulfing you in a big and reassuring hug.

Jaemin turns around to throw Haechan a look, “What did you just call her?”

“What? What did I do?” Haechan throws his hands in the air, “She’s mama and you’re papa, or am I wrong?” He looks around the room like he’s the only person with a working brain in this room.

Jaemin slaps the back of Haechan’s neck, “She’s Mrs Na to you,” he spits through gritted teeth.

Haechan shrugs, feigning innocence, “But she’s still going to be a mama so why can’t I jus-”

“Get out,” you husband grabs him by the collar of his shirt, dragging his friend around the entryway to lead him to the front door, “Get the fuck out, now!”

“Sorry, Y/n,” there’s a slight blush on Mark prominent cheekbones as he apologises to you, “We had to wait for this one,” he points at Haechan who’s bickering with your husband by the front door, “But we’re here now!”

“And we’re here to help you guys!” Jeno intervenes, smile reaching his eyes.

“So no need to worry!” Chenle’s reassuring words overlap Haechan’s screech as your husband grabs him by the ear.

You met Jaemin’s clan members a lot of times since you and Jaemin became official. Jeno and Mark are the ones who are almost always around on your days off, with Jeno being your favourite because he doesn’t speak much — and when he does, it’s something sweet and soft, unlike what his demeanour is like during working hours — and Mark being awkwardly respectful and polite, as if every time he sees you it’s just his first time doing so.

Jaemin explained to you that that’s just how these two are, but you know they’re much more outgoing when they’re alone with your husband, and you’re starting to suspect that their behaviour is because of you, although you can’t pinpoint why, at least just yet.

And then there’s Haechan. Loud, super friendly Haechan, who’s always on his friends and clan members’ nerves. But you find him endearing, and the way he makes Jaemin lose his mind is always hilarious to you.

And you really like them all, even the ones who you’re familiar with but are not here today, like Renjun, Yuta, and Taeyong. There are members who you’ve never met before, — not even on your wedding day when all of your husband’s coworkers were invited, because they were on duty that day, — and now that your husband is retiring, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get to meet them. 

And like a sign that you might have forgotten him, you hear Chenle’s laugh from the other room while you instruct Jeno where to hang your paintings. Good, snooping Chenle. No one can escape him and his questions, his love for snooping around and gossiping always matches yours during interactions, because while he tries to find out things about your marriage, he also lets you know everything there is to know about everyone within his radius. 

Jeno hangs your paintings, moves all the rugs around the hardwood floors just the way you want, and he doesn’t complain even if you change your mind ten times before finally being satisfied. Mark moves furniture around the house with Jaemin’s help, and it doesn’t matter if you’re not happy with the spot the couch is in and their backs are aching, they’re still doing everything you tell them to.

Chenle opens the boxes, takes out their contents and sprawls them around, while Haechan follows your instructions about where you want all said items to be put around the house. It’s a team work, except for the fact that you seem to be the boss, and they’re slaving themselves because Jaemin might kick their asses if they don’t do as you say.

Minutes turn into hours, and your lovely home becomes fuller, more colourful, more lively. And you can’t believe that a bunch of gangsters who would have people terrified when seeing them on the street, are doing such a domestic and normal thing out of love for your husband. They’re helping with the cleaning, wearing aprons so bleach doesn’t stain their clothes, they’re wearing rubber gloves while cleaning the floors and windows.

And just as you thought that things were going smoothly, you hear someone drop a vase in one of the other rooms, and everyone goes silent.

Now, you wouldn’t care about the vase if Jeno was the one breaking it, but when you enter the room and  you see the culprit, your blood boils while seeing his pink rubber gloves in the air, the china vase now tens of pieces by his feett. It was your favourite vase, too.

“Jaemin!” You let out an annoyed gasp, hands on your hips as you look at the mess he made. Out of all people who could have done this, you can’t believe it was ultimately your own husband, “I think I will have to kill you,” 

Everything and everyone stills. Jeno doesn’t scrub the floors anymore, Haechan stops cleaning the windows. Mark already turned the vacuum cleaner off, while Chenle froze with the little duster in his hand. 

You miss the way everyone gulps after hearing your tone, and they seriously wonder if you’re aware of the fact that you’re using your husband’s tone when you’re upset. Gone is the sweet little voice you always have, soft spoken like a truly gentle soul.

But Jaemin isn’t phased, he smiles at you with confidence. He knows that shutting up is the best thing he can do right now, not even trying to explain to you that his gloves are wet and the china just slipped. You’re so incredibly hot when you chew his ears off, and then when you boss him around it always turns him on. He sees your beautiful, pouty lips nagging at him, he sees you gesticulating around pointing at the vase, and he knows this vase meant a lot to you, but he can’t help the way his tummy flutters as you use your authoritarian voice on him.

And then you suddenly calm down, sighing as you cross your arms. 

“Guys!” You suddenly clap your hands, and the loud noise makes everyone flinch, “Did you ever see an ultrasound picture? I just found a picture of our daughter!” 

You’re ecstatic while inviting everyone over in the other room to see your daughter, Jaemin being the first and only one to follow you immediately, snatching his rubber gloves away from his hands.

“And I thought Jaemin was terrifying,” Chenle mutters, not sure if he should move from his spot or not.

“Guys!” You scream from the other room, making them flinch once again — and all of them move at the same time, following your voice like panicked children who are about to get scolded if they don’t listen.

→ masterlist

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[bananinhazz]

I SAW I SAW pleeease write for yushi or riku next ❤️‍🩹 it doesn't even have to be a full fledged fic, i'd just love to hear what your thoughts are on how they'd be during the newlywed stage :> and any thoughts you may have on yushi's libido

━━━ 𝗧𝗢𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗢 𝗬𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜 & 𝗠𝗔𝗘𝗗𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗟𝗬𝗪𝗘𝗗 𝗛𝗖𝗦

ㅤsypnosis ⁝ㅤㅤyushi and riku as newlyweds · nsfw & sfwㅤㅤ〝 cw.ㅤㅤconsensual teehee, light bondage, blindfold, fluff, aftercareㅤㅤ﹪ㅤㅤ𝗍𝗈𝗄𝗎𝗇𝗈 𝗒𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂 × 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋ㅤ𝗆𝖺𝖾𝖽𝖺 𝗋𝗂𝗄𝗎 × 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⋆ 𝗬𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜

soft but passionate, a little wild in private — yushi might come across as pure and gentle, but when it’s just the two of you, he lets his desires flourish. his grip on your hips, the way he leaves purple love bites along your collarbone, or how he slowly traces his fingertips down your stomach, he’s not afraid to show you just how much he wants you.

he loves positions where he can see your face, watch your expressions, and gauge your pleasure — missionary, spooning, or you straddling his lap. he especially adores adding a few kisses to your most sensitive spots, he’s a generous lover who aims to make you feel worshipped.

he’s a big believer in consent and communication — a whispered “is this okay..?” or “baby, should I go faster?” is a constant thread during your most intimate moments. his confidence grows alongside your growing trust, making every new experience a shared adventure.

he loves the feeling of skin-on-skin — after a passionate moment, you’re often left resting against him, your breaths syncing, hearts slowing together. he finds pure happiness in simply feeling you close, a kind of vulnerable, raw connection that leaves both of you feeling complete.

he’s a generous pleaser — for yushi, there’s something profoundly intimate about making you feel good. he’d press kisses down your stomach, linger at your thighs, and slowly learn the most sensitive, vulnerable spots that make you tremble. his libido might be high, especially during the newlywed phase, but he’s always careful to make sure you’re comfortable and completely at ease.

he loves initiation from you, too — when you tug him back into bed with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes or boldly straddle him after a shower, it drives him wild. his grip tightens, a shaky breath leaves his lips, and a rush of pure need crosses his face, he’s completely yours in those moments.

he’s a big cuddler afterwards — HE JS LOVES THE FEELING OF SKIN-ON-SKIN, limbs intertwined, he traces circles along your back and plays with your hair. his heart feels so full, he can’t help but whisper “I love you” against your skin. sometimes, he falls asleep with his face resting against your stomach or your sternum, safely anchored by you.

yushi LOVES kissing your forehead first thing in the morning — just a gentle peck to say, “I’m here, you’re safe, you’re mine.” and then he lingers there for a moment, closing his eyes and smiling against your skin. sometimes, he’ll press another small kiss to your nose, then your lips, until you’re both smiling and reluctantly forced to wake up.

he leaves small notes all over your home — a “thought of you today”, “can't wait to see you after work”, or a simple “I love love love you” alongside a doodle of a heart or your initials intertwined. sometimes you find them slipped into your wallet, your shoe, or even your book, turning every corner of your routines into a romantic surprise.

he prefers slow-dancing with you in the kitchen while you cook together — the two of you humming quietly to whatever song is on, resting his chin on your shoulder, letting the moment sink in while you fold batter or chop veggies side by side. it's pure happiness, a calm refuge from the chaos outside :)

he insists you carry matching keychains or rings, a symbol that you’re connected no matter the distance or time — a small, shimmering thread tying your hearts together across space and routines.

he plans surprise date nights — a rooftop dinner under the purple sunset, a spa bath for two filled with rose petals and essential oils, a midnight walk hand in hand with the city’s pulse all around you, just to make sure you feel valued, cared for, and celebrated.

he loves resting his head against your stomach or your lap while you’re reading or listening to your favorite song — closing his eyes and syncing his breaths with yours, feeling completely at peace in your warmth.

⋆ 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗨

dream-like romance with a side of temptation — riku might be gentle, but he certainly isn’t timid in the bedroom. he loves turning up the warmth, kissing you slowly down your stomach, tugging at the waistband of your panties, making you tremble in nervous, eager anticipation.

he’s passionate but patient — riku lets you set the pace, adding small, deliberate touches that slowly bring you toward a passionate release. he prefers positions where he can feel close to you, doggy style with a romantic twist, reverse spooning, or straddling him while he guides your movements. he loves to grip your thighs or your hips, adding pressure at just the right moment.

he finds greatest happiness in making you feel desirable and wanted — riku’s kisses are deep and passionate, his words a mixture of affirmation and temptation, whispering in your ear just how much he craves you. he might say, “you’re so beautiful.. so perfect.. I want to make you feel everything…”, turning your senses up a notch until there’s only you, him, and pure passion.

he’s a passionate explorer — riku loves trying new things with you, from adding a small silky blindfold for a bit of mystery, to tying your hands with a ribbon ( with your consent, of course ), adding a gentle flavor of domination. his main objective is making sure you feel desirable, cared for, and completely unpressured.

he’s a master of afterplay — after making you come, riku doesn’t rush away; instead, he kisses up your thighs, traces patterns with his fingertips, and murmurs affectionate words until you’re fully back down from your high.

he again finds pure happiness in your trust — for riku, there’s something profoundly intimate about you trusting him with your vulnerabilities. so he strives to make each moment together feel comforting, passionate, and healing — a refuge for both of you.

he melts every time you call him “husband” — his cheeks grow rosy, his pulse races, and he cannot hide his happiness. it’s a word that resonates deep within him, a symbol of loyalty, unity, and eternal connection.

he draws you a warm bath after a tiring day — adding flower petals, a few drops of essential oil, lighting a small group of scented candles, creating a restful sanctuary just for you. then he quietly stands by, towel in hand, ready to wrap you up in softness afterwards.

he loveslovesloves resting his head on your lap while you watch a movie or read together — it's his safest, most vulnerable spot, where worries fade away and the world feels distant. sometimes, he falls asleep there, his breaths growing heavy and deep against you, a pure expression of trust.

he brings you breakfast in bed frequently — pancakes, strawberries, a small note with a sweet confession of his growing affection. sometimes he traces a small heart on the plate with syrup or arranges the food to form a heart-shaped meal, just to make you smile first thing in the morning :b

he quietly collects photos and mementos — turning them into a scrapbook filled with stories, moments, and promises for your future together. each page is a testament to your growing bond — a love that deepens with each passing day.

he finds magic in the small routines you share — washing dishes side by side, folding laundry together, or simply sitting quietly in each other’s company, not needing words to feel connected c':

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: while some of these fluffier moments are especially sweet during the newlywed phase, they’re really not limited to just that ! 🩶 these gestures ( big or small ) can happen at ANY point in your relationship, whether you’re just dating, engaged, or years into your marriage. yushi and riku’s love evolves, but it’s the kindness, patience, and affection that keep it alive, no matter the stage.

[bananinhazz]

troubled waters | mark lee

synopsis: mark liked thinking his daughter was a literal angel baby, which was totally true and it was proven to him countless times before — so just why did he get a sudden phone call talking about his daughter's behaviour?

pairing: girl dad!mark x female!reader

genre: fluff, domesticity, marriage!au, suggestive

word count: 3.1k

contains: daughter doesn't have a name, but he calls her "cookie". kids are mean and ruthless, mentions of micro bullying. serious talks, fluff.

author's note: we're so back my babies!!!! missed dad!mark a lot (°¯᷄◠¯᷅°) a huge thank you to the beautiful anon who suggested this idea, even if it took me some time to get to it, but im finally delivering it </3 mark in this one???? i need him so bad. MEELINGS HOURS ARE OPEN! not proofread (yet) <3

more dad!mark & cookie: MASTERLIST 🍪

©️ kongjjen 2024 - 2025. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

Mark plays with his pen, the same automatic motion he does when he’s not mentally in the room anymore.

Today’s morning briefing is atrocious, long, and now useless. The whole team is here, sitting around the table, dragging this meeting like they have nothing else better to do. Maybe that’s the point, Mark thinks, maybe they’re dragging it because they don’t want to go back to their desks. 

With everything discussed, decisions taken, a few manuscripts examined and read through, Mark feels like he’s being held hostage. Sure, he doesn’t have anything else to do at his desk either, only a last chapter to copy edit before sending it over to the team’s proofreaders, so he’d take his sweet time working on it, maybe he’d even call you — ask you how your day has been so far, what are you planning to have for lunch in about an hour or so, ask you if you’d like to go out for dinner tonight, instead of staying in.

His phone buzzes on the huge table, snatching him out of his thoughts. He silences the call, not able to pick up, at least not right now, and his eyes stay glued to the screen, wondering who the unknown caller might be.

He doesn’t think about it for too long, deciding he’ll call back as soon as the meeting is over in about ten minutes.

 But then his phone buzzes again, and this time you’re the one popping on his screen. Were you thinking of him just as much as he was thinking of you? He really wants to take you out tonight, and this wouldn’t be the first time you call each other just when one of you is thinking of the other, like you’re telepathically tied. 

And even if he made sure to silence your call as well, his eyes linger on the screen of his phone, looking at your picture, and he wonders why you’re so persistent.

Usually, when either one of you calls, and the other one doesn’t pick up, you stop and hang up. But now his phone keeps buzzing, and he wonders if everything’s alright.  

The call goes unanswered, and Mark is finally able to breathe a sigh of relief when his boss decides to wrap up the meeting.

Fucking finally, Mark thinks to himself as he puts his pens away, grabbing his notebook, coffee, and phone before bidding everyone goodbye and making a quick exit towards his own office.

He calls you, but the call doesn’t go through, and he dials your number two more times before he decides he’ll do it again in a few minutes. 

Until then, he decides he’ll call the unknown number, just to check what this is about. After all, he can just hang up the call anytime. 

The dialling tone rings three times in his ear, before someone picks it up, “Hello, this is Mark Lee,” he rasps, scribbling down on a piece of paper at his desk, “You called earlier,”

“Good morning, Mr Lee,” a female voice greets him, “This is Mrs Kang, your daughter’s teacher,”

Mark’s breath gets stuck in his throat at the mention of his daughter. 

“Is everything alright, Mrs Kang?” He asks before the woman can say anything else. Just the thought of something bad happening to Cookie has him standing to his feet, ready to grab all of his things and leave the office.

“That’s why I’m calling,” she explains calmly, but Mark is anything but calm right now, “There’s been a… situation involving your daughter,” she pauses and clears her throat, “I already called your wife, and she’s on the way here. It would mean a lot if you could make it as well, so we could all have a talk,”

“I- Of course!” He stutters, not knowing what to grab first — car keys, jacket, bag. “I’ll be there as fast as I can,”

What just happened? How is this possible? Mrs Kang didn’t outright say that Cookie was hurt, but Mark’s stomach drops nonetheless. Did someone hurt her? Did she perhaps fall and hurt herself? Mark’s mind runs a mile an hour trying to sort through his thoughts. 

Thankfully the car’s parked outside, and by the time he reaches it he can’t help but think of you, about how you insisted you’ll be taking the subway today and that he should take the car instead. That’s probably where you are right now, and the reason you were not picking up earlier was the lack of signal as you made your way to reach your daughter. 

And your daughter… this isn’t an easy situation, given the fact that they called both you and Mark in. 

He doesn’t know how he manages to reach your daughter’s preschool — because his mind was anywhere else but the road and the speed limits, — but he does, and he trots inside in just a few seconds.

He spots you talking to the teacher in the entry hallway, “I’m here, I’m here!” He announces, catching his breath, “What’s going on?”

Mrs Kang asks you to follow her, and you do, without asking further questions. Mark can see the uneasiness on your face, how not knowing the gravity of this situation is affecting you.

“We didn’t mean to sound alarming on the phone,” she sits down at the table in the teachers’ room, with you and Mark sitting across from her, “But we don’t encourage this kind of behaviour and we’re sure you don’t either,”

“I’m sorry, but can tell us what exactly happened?” You interrupt her, and Mark recognises you don’t like how she’s stalling.

“Earlier today, your daughter pushed and bit one of her classmates,” she finally exhales, like that was the most difficult thing she had to say in her entire life.

“What?” Mark doesn’t even realise he’s speaking up, voice high in pitch, “Our daughter did what?” He touches his chest, full of disbelief. 

Your daughter? Cookie? This has to be a mistake. His Cookie?

“We’re not sure what happened, what caused her behaviour. She wouldn’t talk to us, so we were hoping she’d communicate with you, that’s why we called you in today,” she gesticulates around, pointing her hands towards you, and it’s too much for Mark’s liking, “Maybe you can take her home for the day,” she concludes, but it comes out more as a question.

She stands to her feet, and so do you and Mark, seeing as she’s walking around the table and towards the door. 

Mark throws you a look, eyebrows furrowed as he mouths “What’s going on?”

You shrug, shaking your head at him, just as appalled about the whole situation as he is.

Mrs Kang takes the two of you to a separate room, and you see your daughter playing by herself at one of the small and coloured tables, and judging by the apathy of her movements, you know she’s not feeling well.

Mark’s heart breaks, because while his daughter was certainly in the wrong for recurring to such behaviour, the way she’s all alone and sad right now it’s making him almost tear up, a lump that’s hard to gulp away already set in his throat.

“Hi, sweet Cookie!” Mark is the first to speak when she doesn’t notice you walking in. 

“Daddy!” She breathes, almost on the verge of crying, and she runs towards her daddy. 

Mark crouches down, waiting with his arms open, and she throws herself at him as if she was literally flying. You’re by the door, talking with the teacher about the situation, at peace knowing that your daughter is now in her daddy’s arms.

“What happened, Cookie?” Mark rubs her small back as she finds refuge by sticking her head in the crook of his neck, “Wanna tell daddy what happened?” He tries again, but Cookie shakes her head, and her small fists grab at his jacket so tight that Mark wonders if it’s hurting her fingers. 

And Mark takes her into his arms, walking towards you and Mrs Kang, who you bid goodbye shortly after, but Cookie stays silent — forehead sticking to the skin of Mark’s neck.

And it seems like your daughter adopts the silent treatment for the rest of ride home, and for the rest of the day as well. 

Neither you nor Mark have ever experienced such quietness when it comes to your daughter. Of course, she’s behaved and calm, but she’s also at the age when everything happening around herself gets a question out of her, directed at one — or both — of you. And now it’s quiet, and the silence feels heavy.

 Feels heavy on you, because you want to talk to Mark about everything happening, and you want your daughter to explain herself. Feels heavy on Mark, because he wants to talk to you, and he’d rather your daughter chewed his ears off instead of sitting quietly in the backseat. And most importantly, feels heavy on Cookie, and both you and Mark can see she’s distraught, so you know she behaved the way she did because something happened.

You don’t go back to work, both you and Mark take the remainder of the day off, with you wrapping up your work in Mark’s office, and him spending time with Cookie, watching the Grinch together on the big tv in the living room, and Mark’s heart literally breaks in his chest when the usual lines don’t get a giggle out of his daughter, like they would usually do.

You join them just in time for Beauty and the Beast, which is Cookie’s favourite princess film.

You try talking to her, “Can you tell mommy why you’re upset, Cookie?”

But she ignores you, playing with her little toes as she sits in-between you and Mark on the big couch, straight up giving you the silent treatment. Yet you let her be, knowing that she’s acting this way because she’s sad, embarrassed of the way the behaved and that her parents were called in because of her behaviour.

You don’t need her to tell you all this, because being in a relationship with Mark for so many years, you know this is exactly how he behaves, and truth be told, she’s all her daddy. 

You pat her head, inviting her to rest her head on your lap as the film starts, and she stretches her legs on top of Mark’s lap like she usually does. You and Mark exchange looks and nod to each other, sealing a silent promise that you’ll need to talk later.

You even take her out for dinner, like Mark had planned, but instead of going to a restaurant, you take her to McDonald’s — in an attempt to cheer her up a little. Attempt that fails miserably as she doesn’t even touch the toy she got form her Happy Meal. 

“What the hell happened today?” Mark says as soon as he enters your shared bedroom, after putting Cookie to sleep. 

You’re freshly out the shower, searching for a new pair of pyjamas as he plops on the bed.

“Did she talk to you?” You inquire, hoping that time spent with Mark before bed actually made her open up.

“No!” He sighs exhausted, “She didn’t even ask for a bedtime story tonight,” His voice cracks as he looks at you, “Only wanted pats and kisses,”

“What do you think happened,” you ask, standing in front of his sitting figure, “Do you think she was bullied?”

“By whom?” He raises his eyebrows at you, surprised by your suggestion, “Wouldn’t Mrs Kang know if that was going on?”

“Mark,” your tone is serious, trying to get his attention, “Mrs Kang couldn’t tell us what happened for our daughter to behave this way, and you think she’d notice the small things going between twenty children?”

You’re right, Mark knows this too, but he just can’t understand why would other four years olds bully his own four year old. 

“She needs to learn how to talk to us,” you speak up, biting your lip out of worries, “We need to be her safe space,” 

Mark nods immediately, “How do we do it? I thought we were doing a great job and that she knew she could always talk to us!”

“I know, I know,” you sigh, patting his cheeks as he looks up at you. “Maybe she should stay home tomorrow, to allow her to get out of this state. I’ll take the day off,” you suggest, knowing that a day with no school is going to make her at least a bit more happy.

“No, don’t worry,” Mark speaks, hugging your middle, “I can stay home with her, maybe I can get her to talk to me,” he suggests, pulling you towards himself, puckering his lips so you can give him a kiss.

And that’s what you do. You go to work, Mark stays at home, has a late breakfast with Cookie, and they spend the whole day having fun together. Cookie starts behaving like her usual self, although she seems to be clinging to Mark even more than before, as if possible. Yet she doesn’t say a word when Mark tries to get her to open up about the day before and what had happened.

The following days are peaceful, with Cookie back to preschool, and she seems to be doing fine. You and Mark agreed to let it go for the time being, promising you’ll try again in the following days, knowing that with time she’ll feel secure and she’ll open up to you.

And it’s just a new, peaceful day, that Mark spends at home writing. Coffee placed next to his macbook, his notes and favourite pen gels right next to his right hand so he can write his thoughts and ideas down easily, and his phone buzzes.

It’s you, and it bring Mark a giddy smile, “What’s up, baby,” he rasps into the phone.

“It happened again, Mark,” you sigh into the phone, tone worried, “They called me over, but I’m in the middle of a meeting,”

“I’ll pick her up and call you as soon as I find out what happened,” he jumps off his chair, and doesn’t even know how he gets his jeans and sweater on before leaving the house.

His chest heaves with nerves, head flooded with worries, because he knows this isn’t Cookie’s fault, but at the same time he doesn’t know how to get her to talk. 

And exactly like last time, Mrs Kang has no idea what happened and why your daughter acted this way. Mark can barely contain himself from starting an argument with her, ready to point the finger and tell her that his kid does not behave this way out of habit, that something is obviously triggering her, and that maybe she’s not doing her job paying attention to the kids as much as she should.

But Mark refrains, because he knows that when it comes to his family’s wellbeing he can be hotheaded, and he leaves with Cookie in his arms once again. 

He pats her, he lulls her, he squeezes her to his chest all the way home, reminding her that she’s safe with daddy as he feels her crying and sniffling in the crook of his neck. His heart breaks, and he knows he can’t wait some more days to get her to speak.

“Cookie, listen to daddy,” he says as soon as they get back home. He sits on the couch and calls her over, which she does, and Mark touches her arms to ground her. “You need to talk to daddy, otherwise I don’t know how to help you and make it better,”

He sees her averting her gaze, shyly, just like she does every time she feels conflicted, right before opening up.

“Can you tell me what happened, so daddy can help you?” He tries again, and he’s determined to make her talk one way or another. He won’t be given the silent treatment again, absolutely the fuck not. Not when his child is so distressed, not when his child is so fearful — possibly because of other four year olds.

Her eyes brim with tears, and her bottom lip quivers, “Lisa said you and mommy will have a baby,” 

What? Who the fuck is Lisa and why does she go around talking this amount of shit?

Cookie is now crying, remembering her classmate and her words, “She said you’ll love the baby more than me,” she’s full on sobbing, and she jumps into Mark’s arms looking for refuge.

Turns out this kid, Lisa, terrorised your daughter for a few weeks, lying to her and telling her that her daddy will love the baby more than her. And Mark thinks this is such a silly thing to cry over, but then remembers this is a bunch of very impressionable four year olds, and that his daughter is very attached to both of you, but draws the line when it comes to her daddy. 

And Mark’s heart breaks once again, thinking of his little girl and the panic and distress she’s gone through, thinking her daddy will love her less. You and Mark talked about this before, about having another child, and Mark made it clear that he only needs Cookie, — but if it happens, it happens. Now he’s even more sure that a family of three is all you’re meant to be, no more kids, but maybe pets — because he knows that if Cookie asked for a kitten, he’d give in on the spot.

“Cookie! My sweet, sweet Cookie!” He babies her, lulling her in his arms, “Daddy loves you so much! You’re my little girl, and nothing will change this!” He reassures her, kissing every available spot on her face. 

Tears and snot, it doesn’t really matter. This is his child, and nothing will ever stop him from comforting her.

“You need to come talk to mommy and daddy when this happens, okay? How can we help you if we don’t know, if you don’t talk to us?” He confronts her gently, trying to make her understand that talking to you is the best thing she can do, now and forever from now on. 

“We told you to just be yourself, always listen to mommy and daddy. Don’t listen to your friends, just remember what we told you so many times before,” Mark squeezes her in his arms, thinking that he’d squish her inside his chest if he physically could.

“Mommy and daddy love you so, so much, Cookie!” And everything seems peaceful once again.

[bananinhazz]

synopsis you and yushi spend your last day of school trading secrets, hopes, dreams, and desperate kisses.

warnings some teensy-weensy angsty elements, doubt regarding feelings and relationships, kissing, making out, yushi really likes reader’s swimsuit, makes one (accidental) suggestive joke, and i have a tendency to make him moan during kisses 😁

word count 5.6k

notes hi! this very short fic took me a whole two weeks to write, can you believe 😭 anyway, i was in my yushi feels and i recently watched dazed and confused, so this is inspired by it! i hope you lovelies enjoy it, because i probably won’t be able to pump another fic outta me until i’m hit with another prophetic surge of creativity again… cries

THE LAST DAY OF school was always quiet. There was a sort of relaxed energy about the place, the halls silent save for the occasional older teacher making their rounds, peeking their heads in here and there, ensuring that every student was behaving accordingly in their respective classes. Inside the classes, not much happened; much less than what happened during a usual day at Wishful High School. Students often got scolded for their jittery demeanour, teachers often sighed in exasperation and relief that, just a little while longer, then they wouldn’t be seeing these kids until September.

A light, warm breeze filtered through the half-open windows of the classroom, golden afternoon light shining down onto the honey-coloured desks. Your classmates were all occupied with something of more importance than your teacher’s speech, it seemed, some flinging wads of rolled up paper at each other, others colouring in their Maths textbooks—an activity that would delight them until the end of times, because if it causes problems for the next student, they’d know nothing of it, too busy living it up further in the city at university.

You sat in your designated seat at the back of the class, swaying your feet this way and that, the heels of your inside shoes rolling easily against the polished floors, scribbling and doodling nothing of note onto your exam pad, cats and sunny hearts and your best friend. Mrs Kawasaki had been talking about the cultural festival that would take place shortly after the second semester began, and had started to ramble about how the rest of the year would follow; the materials you’d be covering, the process of your university entrance exams. 

All you or anyone else could think of, however, was how close the clock was to striking 15.30. 

The promised hour; the beginning of summer break.

Tokuno Yushi was in a similar predicament. Sitting just a few classrooms away in his dreaded final Social Studies lesson of the day, leaned so far back that his chair almost touched the wall behind him, Yushi’s mind stretched far and wide, none of his thoughts containing a single mention of school, or whatever his teacher was talking about—something to do with university entrance exams. 

Ice cream. Walks along the Sumida river. A drive down to the beach with you. Ice cream again. Sweet bread. The new shorts you bought specially for the beach. Cold noodles. Your pink swimsuit. Has he mentioned ice cream yet?

He felt a twinge of guilt at his gross negligence of Mr Matsuda’s university entrance exam speech, but he couldn’t be bothered to try and tune in now. His mind had already drifted to a near-faraway land filled with gelato and beaches and digicam pictures and jean shorts, blissfully adrift in a sea of fantasy and in no need of rescue back to the monotony of the academic world. His classmates were no better and, stealing a glance at how the professor’s eyes glazed over, how his sentences started to trail off, neither was his teacher.

Yushi ran an easy hand through his hair, eyes flicking to the clock hung right behind Mr Matsuda. So close.

15.28.

15.29.

Almost…!

15.30!

To say that the students shot up out of their seats would be an understatement. They all threw tentative glances in Mr Matsuda’s direction as they made way for the front door, only to find their teacher already gone like the wind; it seems some of them had tired more of the other than they thought. Nonetheless, Yushi was one of the last out of the classroom, ever the unwilling gentleman—shy rather than chivalrous. 

His eyes instinctively or, perhaps, purposely scanned the halls for you; his ears perked for the sound of those just-one-size-too-big inside shoes that would be emerging from class 3A and soon making their way to your shared cubbies right before he spotted you shuffling out of the classroom, one of the last of the bunch.

You didn’t greet each other when Yushi approached you, rather walking to your cubbies in mutual silence, understanding passing like the nod of greeting between the two of you. You retrieved your backpacks, heavily contrasted as they’d always been, yours with a growing collection of charms lining the zippers, pinned into the cloth, Yushi’s simple as ever, only with a few doodles you’d done in chalky marker pen, mostly of his favourite snacks—he never did mind the mess of scribbles decorating his bag. 

You strolled out of the school after pulling on your outside shoes, shoulders occasionally bumping as you hopped down the steps.

“D’you want to take the bus today?” Yushi asked.

Humming, you shook your head. “I feel like taking the scenic route today.”

Your friend nodded, falling into step with you as you headed in the direction opposite of your classmates on their way to the bus station en masse. You made your way along the pavement, adjusting the straps of your backpack as they dug into your shoulders, your black shoes clicking against the concrete. 

You continued to walk in silence as you passed under the pinkish cherry blossom trees, as you bowed gently to an older couple out on a stroll, as you narrowly avoided being caught in a sea of preschoolers as they ran past you, soccer ball being kicked this way and that where you tried to walk. Yushi’s brows furrowed as he narrowly avoided being kicked in the shins, but he stayed happily silent.

The neighbourhood you and Yushi lived in was about fifteen minutes from school, twenty when on foot alongside him. On the way there, you passed by the convenience store to pick up a variety of foods, the majority picked and shoved into your arms by Yushi. Riku, the cashier and your old senior from school, greeted you with a familiar smile while he rang up your items, seeing you off with a mock salute as you opened the glass doors again, your departure being signalled by a small ding!

“Strawberry froyo’s mine,” you declared, snatching the colourful mini container out of his hands. 

Yushi sent you a sidelong glance, eyes slightly widening at the ferocity with which you ripped open your frozen yoghurt, taking small bites of his own sweet treat. “Good thing I bought mint chocolate, too,” he murmured, the end of his pastel plastic spoon balanced between his plump lips.

“I can’t believe it’s summer break already.”

Yushi hummed, slyly glancing at you from his spot on his bed, boredly tossing his soccer ball while you scribbled something into your sketchbook, legs crossed under the other like a yogi. Your lips formed a thoughtful, concentrated pout while you worked and Yushi admired, grateful for your distraction.

Your friend’s room was meticulously decorated, posters of his favourite groups and films lining the walls on one side, his soccer trophies arranged one by one in a neat line on the other, atop his bookcase. Personal pictures stood by his bedside table, from professional school pictures to blurry photos you’d taken at the beach or at school, in between lessons. The walls a pale blue, never painted over since he first took ownership of the room after he was born.

“Did you catch any of what Mr Matsuda told you during Social Studies?” you enquired, your eyes finally meeting Yushi’s—only for him to avert his gaze. “Mrs Kawasaki gave us a speech about the university entrance exams, and the cultural festival at the beginning of the second semester, but I wasn’t fully listening. I take it Matsuda gave you a similar talk?”

“Hmm.” A tilt of the head, bronze irises settling on the distracted form of an unrequited love. “He told us that we’d best start studying for the university entrance exam sometime during summer break, and that was all, I think.”

You hummed. “Nothing we won’t hear again, then.”

“Surely,” Yushi replied. 

His tossing stilled for a moment, gaze fixated on you. He didn’t remember exactly when his furtive glances in your direction went from apprehensive to friendly, from friendly to adoring; he’d just went from not knowing he liked you to knowing it, though he couldn’t recall a certain occasion he’d noticed the difference. Perhaps because, at the end of the day, the same emotion and intensity that fueled fear, fueled suspicion, seemed to fuel desire just as well.

He couldn’t help but notice, then, the strawberry-flavoured sheen of pink coating your lips, still swollen as a side effect of the cold treat. 

“I feel like going down to the beach today,” you said after a beat, laying your sketchbook down and flopping onto Yushi’s bed, arms folded over your chest. “There’s nothing else to do here.”

There was plenty more to do. You had a heap of summer break homework and research ahead of you; Yushi was the proud owner of several vintage video games, as well as an array of comic books that would be able to keep you occupied for most of the month; you could watch that new movie that came out a week ago, some English romcom; you could go second-hand hunting for… things, Yushi supposed, in city centre; you could—

“Yeah, let’s go to the beach,” he agreed quickly. “We could go to Zushi beach, take the four o’clock bus.”

You sighed softly. You’d wanted to go to the beach since summer had graced the city of Tokyo, since the first warm wind passed through the breeze, though you knew there’d be plenty of time to visit it during your school break. You didn’t necessarily need to go today. Besides…

“…Mm. No. It’s too late already,” you complained softly. “It’s almost four o’clock, and the sun sets at six thirty.”

Yushi shrugged, an air of practiced nonchalance clinging to his form. “We can stay past sundown. It’s safe enough, I’m sure.” He was nothing if not determined, if not committed, to go to the beach with you today. “We’ll take the seven o’clock train back, and we’ll be home just before eight. Promise.” He held out his pinky to you then, leaning forward until his face was only a few centimetres from yours, hovering precariously above you.

You snickered, linking your pinky with his.

“You seem more eager to go to the beach than I do,” you observed, watching how he leapt up from his bed the moment his promise to you was sealed, making a beeline for one of the many backpacks laying on his bedroom floor, already halfway to the bathroom to fetch two matching swimming towels.

A trip was made to your house, just a few units down the street from the Tokuno residence, where you changed into your swimsuit and a comfortable cover-up outfit. You’d both raided your family’s respective fridges for food and drink, and had thrown together a feast of sandwiches, mysterious blue bottled liquid with labels that looked like they had blueberries on them, the pitcher of green tea Yushi’s mother kept in the fridge, a variety of no-name pantry treats, and a box of pocky sticks with a grand total of two and a half left.

Your parents glanced at you oddly when you passed by them, both yours and Yushi’s, earnestly informing them of your trip to the beach.

“Summer break’s barely started,” Yushi’s mother had said, chuckling as she heard her kitchen cupboards open and close as they were ransacked by a pair of third years. “You know you’ve got the whole month ahead of you, don’t you?” 

Your mother said something similar, though they both allowed you your freedom, and no later than fifteen minutes into the future, you and Yushi were sitting side by side in a train on its way to the half-mile beach, a cooler bag nestled between your legs.

The car wasn’t too busy, with only a few people around your age loitering on the benches, fluorescent white lights flickering uneasily overhead. Your T-shirt shifted against your shoulder, the worn material soft to the touch. Your eyes flicked to Yushi, and the ridiculous boardshorts he was wearing; a brightly-coloured abomination with glittery dolphins and waves printed in faded ink. He wore it whenever you went to the beach, even though you’d gifted it to him as a joke. Part of you wondered why he even bothered, though a smaller, quieter part of you liked that he did.

Glancing at your outfit, part of Yushi wondered why you always wore that badly tie-dyed shirt he’d made you in Art class the one year you’d taken it together as an extra subject; you only ever wore it when you went to the beach together. Another, smaller, quieter part of him liked that you did.

The hour to Zushi beach was passed playing deadpan games of rock, paper, scissors, observing abnormalities or interesting things through the window as they passed by, or attempting to recall what the beach was like the last time you went. It had been busy, though that had been because you’d went earlier in the day, went later in the holiday. 

“I wonder where all these people are going,” he whispered at one point, glancing furtively at the other train passengers, making sure to keep his voice at a most respectable volume.

You lifted a shoulder. “Maybe they’re going to the beach, too.”

“Only we go to the beach at four o’clock on a Friday,” Yushi murmured, smiling slyly.

Shaking your head, momentarily sharing his grin, you said, “What a pity. It’s a great day for the beach.”

The sun beat down onto the tawny dunes, warming your skin as you glanced up at the sky, the sun sitting perfectly above the blue sea ahead of you. A breeze drifted through the air, light and refreshing in the heat of the afternoon. The joyous laughs and hollers of people around you lit up the atmosphere, infectious smiles making their way to your faces. Yushi sat next to you, the wind easily carding through his hair as he took a sip of the mysterious blue liquid which you’d earlier discovered was blueberry soda. 

“I’d love to live in a seaside town one day,” your friend confessed, “and just be able to cycle down to the beach whenever I wanted.”

You tilted your head. “Wouldn’t you appreciate it less, then? Because it’s so close to you? People get sick of things really quickly.”

“Not me,” Yushi said, glancing at you with a grin. “When I like something, it’s hard for me to stop liking it.”

Snickering, you agreed, “I guess so. I suddenly remembered, every time you get a new favourite song, it’s all we listen to for the next five months. It’s like you’re trying to commit it to memory; or when you take pictures you really like. It’s like you want those things engrained in your psyche, or something.”

Eyes fixated upon your form, old tie-dyed shirt discarded, bubblegum pink swimsuit hugging your form in a way that would’ve normally made his cheeks warm up, Yushi nodded. You didn’t notice, attention on the horizon before you, oblivious to the way he seemed to be committing you to memory.

“I like having beautiful things engrained in my psyche.”

You and Yushi weren’t necessarily best friends, per se. You both got along better with other people—you with your tutor and longtime friend, Osaki Shotaro, and Yushi with his pen pal from Korea, Kim Daeyoung. Your friendship blossomed due to serendipitous circumstance and continued proximity; while you had certain things in common, such as your introverted natures, your tastes in music and movies, or the fact that you didn’t really like putting much effort into school besides the aspects of it that interested you, it wasn’t as if you were twin flames.

You had a perfect amount of similarities and a perfect amount of differences to keep things interesting but not problematic, maintain a friendship that was stable but not dull. Your conversations consisted mostly of school and things like it, and the only aspirations you’d shared with each other was a mutual hope that you’d get fun jobs as adults.

Yet, despite all of your differences, all of your similarities, despite your partnership of convenience, affection blossomed regardless.

Not just friendly affection—shared jokes and core memories, countless hours spent in each other’s presence, genuine connection despite your apparent dissimilarities. Rather, intimate affection and, dare you say, adoration had bloomed in your heart—a warm, festering flame sitting at the bottom of your most vulnerable organ, emboldening you to take risks that you’d never think to take in your life, all for the possibility of reciprocated feelings from the black-haired boy beside you.

You weren’t completely sure what to do about it, these feelings. Did you act on them, and potentially ruin the comfortable friendship you’d been building since junior high, or did you stay friendly, and slowly let your heart wither away as you and Yushi grew older, grew further and further apart until you were a wash-up who peaked in high school, still head over heels for a man who hadn’t thought of you since he was seventeen? You didn’t know. Both options seemed catastrophic whenever you gave them more than a moments’ thought.

“Besides, I really want to be a fisherman.”

Frowning, you turned to Yushi. You hadn’t expected those to be the words to pull you from your reverie, not in the least. “You want to be a fisherman? Since when?”

He shrugged. “Since always. The sea’s always been a lovely place to me, and I wanted a job that would keep me as close to it as possible.”

“…Well, you never told me that,” you murmured. For some inexplicable reason, part of you felt ashamed for not knowing this about your friend.

Yushi turned his gaze from you to the sand beneath his feet when your eyes settled on him, clearing his throat. “We never got around to talking about what we wanted to be. We were always busy with other things. I don’t know what you want to do when you’ve graduated.”

He glanced at you, if only for a moment. “So… what do you want to do after high school?”

You straightened up, answer at the ready. Yushi perked up in expectation, hugging his knees to his chest. 

Only when you’d been sitting in total silence for a full minute, your chest still puffed up as if you’d already answered with confidence, did Yushi start to wonder whether or not you actually had an answer for him.

Deflating, you confessed, “I… haven’t really thought about what I want to do after I graduate. I’ve been so focused on high school that I haven’t really given university much thought.”

“You don’t have to go to university at all,” Yushi pointed out. “Artists don’t need a degree to do what they do.”

You frowned. “You think I’m an artist?”

“Mhm. The best one I know.” He lifted a shoulder, and added, “Okay, the only one that I know. But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I’m right; you’re a great painter, and I think you could go far if you pursue it as a career.”

“I could go for a Visual Arts degree, then,” you pointed out.

Yushi pursed his lips. “Mmm…aybe, but whether you get a degree for it or not, I think you should become a painter anyway.”

You snickered. “Then what? If you become a fisherman and I become an artist, who’s going to provide for who if neither of us have white collar jobs?”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t try to provide for us, anyway,” your friend shot back. “Even when we’re both single and poor, I’ll be cycling out to the city to try and sell fish every day. You could try to sell your paintings, too. We’ll live payment to payment like that, living on a boat, not paying taxes, and stuff.”

Cheeks warming, you cast your eyes heavenwards in mock thoughtfulness. “Becoming a tax-evading painter living on a boat with my fisherman friend is not how I ever expected my life to pan out, but it doesn’t sound half bad.”

Yushi smiled in intrigue. “Even if we’d be single and poor?”

Your eyes flicked to the boy beside you. You’re not sure what precisely had emboldened you to say it; perhaps the evening breeze skirting along your skin, or the way Yushi was looking at you, as if he wanted nothing more than for you to say something bold, or perhaps because you’d realised this was your last year of high school and you were already one third of the way done, so you’d might as well make it a memorable year, but you found yourself saying, “Who’s to say we’d be single?”

At first, Yushi could only find it in himself to stare, mouth pressed into a line that walked the thin and flimsy border between a flabbergasted smile and an adoring one. Then, a grin stretched across his face like he’d never imagined ever would, flashing his pearly whites as he laughed, gentle and disbelieving. “You’d… you’d want to be with me, then? Is that what you’re saying? You wouldn’t mind us dating?”

Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, still riding on that familiar high called expressing your true feelings, you coyly confessed, “Maybe.”

Yushi chuckled, that soft, cloying sound that flowed like the golden-pink syrup of romantic allure. “I wouldn’t mind being poor if it meant we were together, either. I’d rather be a penniless fisherman with a beautiful girl by my side than be a rich businessman without you.”

Then came a moment you’d only ever read of in romance novels. You had no idea how to explain it in a manner that didn’t make you sound pathetically seventeen, but it was as if, after the utterance of those soft, reverent words, the tension between you and Tokuno Yushi thickened tenfold, warming the small space between you and knocking the breath straight from your lungs. His eyes met yours, slowly, boldly, his tanned skin tinged mauve by the setting sun, his lips caught between a shy, embarrassed laugh and a confident grin.

You felt the wind more clearly on your skin then, suddenly hyper-aware of the lack of space you’d put between you and your friend, hyper-aware of how warm his hand felt as it touched yours, hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in your swimsuit, as he was in his. Sounds from the rest of the world sounded muffled, tinny and faraway, and there was this urgent ringing in your ears, as if your subconscious was trying to tell you of something important—something like the way Yushi’s face inched closer and closer to yours with every second that passed by. You didn’t mind the closeness.

“I may be reading this wrong,” he breathed, in that voice that sounded like birdsong of the first light, “but I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

You could only nod, because the moment you showed signs of wanting it as badly as he did, Yushi’s lips were on yours, soft and sweet from the sips of blueberry soda he’d taken moments earlier.

His free hand slid up to cup your cheek, not before discreetly swiping over your exposed thigh and releasing a shaky breath at the feeling of your warm skin under his fingertips. His lips moved languidly with yours, his forehead bumping softly with your own as he moved forward, tilting your head on his own to deepen the kiss. He tasted of sweet drinks and minty bubblegum, eagerly breathing in the scent of your perfume, chasing the sweet, honeyed taste of your tongue.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, lips momentarily breaking away from yours, “you know that? Not just today. Always. Just as pretty in a swimsuit as you are in uniform or some ratty tie-dye shirt I made you in Art class years ago.” He pressed another kiss to your lips, taking his time to feel your soft skin meld with his. You made a little noise of desperation, unable to keep quiet. “But I gotta be honest…” He smiled breathlessly. “I prefer the swimsuit.”

You smiled against his lips when he kissed you again, your arms winding around his neck as he pulled you close. “You’re pretty, too,” you murmured between fervent kisses, your fingers subconsciously tangling in his hair, carding through the soft locks in a way that made him sigh against you. “No matter what you wear.” He pressed a last longing kiss to your lips before you added, “And I prefer the swimsuit, too.”

He chuckled softly, finally resting his forehead against yours, simply keeping you close for a few moments. He met your eyes gently, his deep brown irises betraying gentle fondness, his lips puffy and pink, swollen from the kiss, still trying to catch his breath.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathed. “No idea.”

Still reeling from the kiss, feeling his fingers flex against your warm skin, feeling the tingling sensation on your swollen lips, you retorted, “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.”

“Well…” He inched closer, lips brushing against yours again. “If we both want it so bad, why on Earth did I stop?”

It was a clash of lips and teeth after that, Yushi surging forward to capture your lips with his. He was bolder this time around, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, grinning slyly when he heard you sigh into his mouth, felt your hands tighten their hold around him. His own hands travelled, one flitting from your thighs to your shoulders to your back while the other one kept a steady hold on your chin, keeping it still between his thumb and forefinger.

He hummed contentedly, pressing a last peck to your lips before finally fully pulling away, eyes searching yours as they shot open in surprise.

“Pretty,” he murmured, almost in amazement. “You are so pretty.”

You smiled shyly, feeling your cheeks warm under his stare. “Don’t sweet talk me, Tokuno Yushi,” you tried. “It makes my legs feel like jelly.”

He laughed genuinely at that, kind eyes crinkling at the sides as his plump lips stretched into a smile. “Good,” he teased. “I want that.”

Your breath hitched. “Oh, you do, do you?”

He hummed. “Yep. Do you want to go swimming?”

Abrupt. Off-topic. So Yushi.

Raising a confused, slightly bewildered brow, you said, “Yushi, the sun is setting. We almost have to go home.”

“And?” He shrugged. “We came to the beach for a reason. I’m gonna be very upset if we don’t get in the water at least once, and no,” he added, glancing at you pointedly, pressing his thumb over your lips to shush you, “we can’t make it better by going to the beach later in summer break. It’s not a trip to the beach unless you get wet.”

A laugh, then a cautious cough as you considered the double entendre.

Yushi pursed his lips awkwardly. “Yeah, that didn’t sound right to me, either.”

You shook your head gently, waving off your initial shock. “Whatever. Let’s go swimming. We only have ten minutes before we have to head home, anyway.”

And those ten minutes felt like some of the best of your life. You waded into the chilly water, your limbs stiffening at the drop in temperature, and Yushi found it in himself to actually laugh at you. You turned from him with a huff and a cross of your arms, and he wound his arms around your waist with a faint apology, words muffled by his own simper as he swayed you in his arms. I’m sorry. Forgive me? I’ll do anything.

You spent some time in the sea, mostly looking for shells or rocks that you could take home, keep in your pockets or place in your rooms among all the other valuable things you’d collected during your time together, and some other time bumping shoulders as you navigated your way through the waves, lips coincidentally brushing against one another’s.

Yushi got his hair wet somehow, you weren’t sure if it was from a wave that had taken him under or from swimming on his own. His lips tasted like sea salt when he kissed you afterwards, fingers lightly grazing over your waist, brow furrowing in concentration.

The silence passing between the two of you as you walked back to the train station was comfortable, familiar as ever. Familiar in the way he bumped his shoulder with yours as he walked alongside you, in the way he looked away—only this time with feigned shyness—when you glanced at him. He’d insisted to carry your picnic basket over his shoulder like a hobo’s bindle, and you almost wanted to cover your face with embarrassment when he grunted under his breath for emphasis, as he’d said, dedication to character.

The ride home was pleasant, your head resting on Yushi’s shoulder while he absently played with your fingers, twirling your friendship ring and bumping it with his own, pressing random kisses to your temple, whispering to you about how long he’s liked you. Four years, he’d confessed. And you? He was surprised when you said six, though he insisted that, while you’d fell first, he’d fell infinitely, undoubtedly harder.

“I know I said you were pretty a few times today,” he whispered, and you knew he’d assumed you were asleep, “but I want you to know you’re not just a pretty face to me. I mean, you’re really pretty. So much so that I’m surprised that you even noticed me the way I noticed you. But… I love that there’s so much more to you. I love that you’re pretty, and artistic, and intelligent, and funny, and caring, and that you spared me even a second glance, much less became my friend.” He grinned. “Much less kissed me back and almost moaned into my mouth on a public beach.”

He discovered you were awake when you jolted up, smacking his shoulder while he laughed at your shocked manner.

You walked home in the dark, your way back illuminated only by the several street lamps lining the path. Your friend’s hand felt warm over yours, his fingers lacing between your own. 

“So, what are your plans for summer break?” he asked, giving a second attempt at his practiced nonchalance. He failed. “You gonna be seeing a lot of me, perhaps?”

You glanced at him through the corner of your eye. “Only if you’re ready to study with me half the time.”

Yushi raised a brow, pouting in question. “Don’t we already to that half the time? Of course I’m ready. Trigonometry, here we come!”

You laughed softly, your hands subconsciously swinging back and forth in his hold. Your hips and shoulders brushed on occasion, and you could feel your cheeks warm with diffidence. Yushi, like the good, attentive friend he was, took quick notice of your shy demeanour. Smiling to himself, he wondered how the tables had turned so drastically. Usually, you were the bold, blunt, outspoken one.

When you arrived at the crossroads between your neighbourhoods, you turned to Yushi, squinting slightly at the sharp street lamp shining from directly above you. “Today was nice,” you said. “Thanks for dragging me to the beach.”

“Hey, you wanted to go first,” he insisted through a smile. “I just complied with your wishes, like I always do.”

“Like you always do?”

“Duh.” 

…

“Are we dating now?”

Eyes shooting up to meet his, you somewhat breathlessly asked, “What?”

“Are we dating?” your friend repeated. “I mean, my tongue’s been in your mouth. I’d say that’s grounds for a relationship.”

You almost wanted to roll your eyes at his severely unromantic phrasing, but were caught between that and smiling like a bashful schoolgirl at the idea of your best friend becoming your boyfriend. Your fantasies didn’t often tend to become reality, and certainly not so quickly.

“I’d agree,” you said slowly. “But, uh, only if you ask me to be your girlfriend.”

You received a feline look of disappointment in response, though you could see in Yushi’s eyes he wanted nothing more than to make that wish come true.

“…Will you, officially, on this last day of first term, hours after after I kissed you for the first, and certainly not last, time, do me the absolute honour of making me your boyfriend?” 

Your boyfriend got his answer in the form of a kiss pressed suddenly and urgently to his lips, his hands coming up protectively behind you as you all but pulled him down to your level, angling your jaw the same way he had on the beach to deepen the kiss. 

You kissed Tokuno Yushi for the fourth and certainly not last time on the first day of your summer break, your last year of high school, after six years of liking him. You kissed him underneath a street lamp, your fingers tangled in his hair, his mouth melding hotly with yours, the kiss soft and slick as it was reverent and incessant.

He kissed you back after four years of liking you, of committing you to memory and entraining your very being into his psyche for the benefit of his own soul, murmuring sweet nothings into your mouth between hungry kisses.

“I love you,” he said, pulling away only enough to be able to utter those reckless words. “Only you.”

“Only you,” I whispered to you

This is a summer story for two of us

@hyuneskkami @jwiloves @bluedbliss @ayukas @rubiiisyeon

[bananinhazz]

moments that made nct wish fall in love with you

pairing: nct wish hyung line x f!reader (only in sion's)

warnings: fluff, lowercase intended, not proofread, me yapping, uni!au for yushi, mentions of food (?)

wc: 2.2k

sion realizes he loves you when you visit his hometown with him. like anyone else, mokpo is his home, his safety, his life. so when you agreed to go with him to see his parents, he was ecstatic. it was going great so far! sion's parents were so loving and took care of you well, they showed you around the farm and even let you pet the cows, and sion took you to see the beautiful sunrise the next day. he's always thought about a future with you. getting married and building a family together is something that isn't scary for sion when he involves you in it. but he tends to live more in the moment, basking in your love as much as he can. the certainty of his future doesn't become real... until one specific evening.

sion's parents are making dinner for the two of you as it's your last day in mokpo. sion calls for you but there's no answer. he calls you again, but still nothing. "ma, have you seen y/n?" he asks. she's in the kitchen, stirring the soup she's making. she furrows her brows, trying to recall when she last saw you. her head perks up at the memory. "oh! that's right, she went outside earlier to pet the cows again. she wanted to say goodbye to them one last time." sion laughs, because of course you'd say something like that. he grabs his phone and heads out to look for you.

he walks out of his house and strolls through the land. sion finds you sitting on one of the haystacks, mindlessly petting one of the cows. he chuckles at the sight and silently walks towards you. “you guys are really lucky to be living here,” you say to the grass-eating animal, “it’s a beautiful place! enjoy it while you can.” your boyfriend scoffs from behind. “you’re saying that like they can hear you.” “maybe they can!” you protest. he laughs again and sits beside you, resting his head on your shoulder. you card your fingers through his hair, sighing. "i'm gonna miss this place. it's so peaceful, i never want to leave." sion smiles softly, "don't worry, sweetheart. we can always come back," he says, and he looks up to meet your eyes.

his breath hitches. the sunlight is hitting your eyes just right, giving your face a delicate glow. the smile on your face is enough to heal thousands, he thinks. in this moment, it feels right. his two homes colliding; the aroma of his mother's homemade dishes, to the warmth of your touch. he realizes that he wants this with you. he wants to spend forever in your arms, because now that you're here in his home, he believes that home is wherever you are.

"you know," he starts. you turn your head to look at him, and he's staring at you like you're the most precious thing. "i can't wait to marry you." your eyes widen in surprise. "i- that's so random!" you whine, hiding your face in your hands when you feel heat creeping up your neck. sion smiles brightly, rubbing soft circles on your thighs. "i know, but i thought i'd tell you. i want a future with you, if you'll have me." you smile and shift a bit so your forehead is resting against sion's.

"i wouldn't dream of anything else."

sion kisses you like he's sealing a promise, signing a contract to be yours forever. his lips mold against yours like they were made to be with each other. and in this moment, he knows; you're his, and he's yours.

riku realizes he loves you when you share laughter. we all know he's one to laugh at the oddest things, having the loudest cackle out of all his friends. riku's not one to dwell on what other people think of his severe case of ijbolitis. he has fun and that's what matters! but he doesn't realize how much he needed someone to laugh with him until one summer night.

the two of you are seated in the living room, each on opposite sides of the couch watching tiktoks, the leftover takeout going cold on the coffee table. riku bursts out laughing, making you look at him in curiosity. "what's so funny?" you ask, giggling at how hard he's cackling. "oh my god my stomach hurts," he's practically hyperventilating at this point, "look at this video, baby!" he holds up his phone to show you the tiktok, and you have to hold his arm steady because he's shaking from laughing so much. but before you know it, you're joining him in laughter as you both belly laugh at the stupid tiktok. riku's eyes light up as he looks at you. "how about i connect my phone to the tv and we watch funny tiktoks together? i think it'd be fun!" you nod in agreement, still holding your stomach while giggling.

not even an hour later, there you two are, hooting and hollering like you haven't laughed in your life ever before. riku is clapping so hard his palms are red, your eyes are filled with so many tears someone could think you're sobbing, and the both of you are hitting each other's shoulders because your laughs are making the moment even funnier than it already is. it gets so bad you have to go to your shared bedroom to calm down because you physically cannot catch your breath. but even when you've cooled off and walk out of the bedroom, riku's eyes meet yours and you're both laughing like crazy again.

unsurprisingly, you and riku fall asleep on the couch 2 hours later after ijboling for what felt like the thousandth time. you're laid in between his legs, sound asleep. riku has his chin resting above your head, still scrolling through his socials. he shifts a little so his lips are behind your head and his nose is resting on the crown of your head. riku loves doing this because he feels so close to you (and so he can smell your shampoo lol). your phone lights up with a notification and he picks it up to check what it is. after taking a look (it was a spam text), he takes a selfie of you and him on the couch, poking your cheek as he snaps another picture.

as he's taking a look at the pictures he took, he spots two 50 minute video in your camera roll. when he clicks on it, he realizes that you filmed the entire cackling session that happened a couple hours ago. he rewatches it on his phone, chuckling to himself when he sees you two basically dying of laughter. "i didn't realize how loud we actually are," he mutters with a smile on his face. he looks down on you, peacefully deep in slumber. he smiles wider, kissing your hair lovingly. "you know," he starts, "i'm glad you're someone that laughs easily. that sounds like a weird compliment, but it's true. i love laughing with you. it makes me feel like myself. i like how you make me feel."

"i love how i make you feel too." your voice startles riku. you start laughing again when you see his shocked expression. he groans and buries his face in his hands as you laugh louder, sitting up. "you were not supposed to hear that." that only prompts you to laugh even more. "then why'd you say that like you wanted me to hear it?" he glares at you, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

but riku does nothing to stop your laughter, his gaze softening with a newfound adoration showing through his eyes. he realizes he wants to be the one that makes you laugh that hard, and that he wants you to be that person for him as well. he silently wishes for more moments like these, where the mix of your laugh and smile is enough to wash his problems away for the meanwhile.

yushi realizes he love you when you accompany him in doing everyday, mundane tasks. to him, love is comfortable and safe. love is not being afraid to wear your ugliest outfits in front of your partner because you know they'll still love you anyway. he believes love finds itself in everyday things, that you know the affection is real when that person is engraved into your lifestyle. yushi has always loved you. he didn't think there'd be a grand, earth-shifting moment where he realizes he needs you, craves you in his life. he loves you and that's enough for him. but everything changes for him one day. more specifically, one night. at 1am.

you and yushi had just gotten back to his dorm. you had both gone to a little hang out at sion's house, playing mariokart and drinking ungodly amounts of diet coke. it's late now, around midnight. you kick your shoes off, immediately heading to the bathroom to wash up. yushi follows, seeing your sneakers scattered over the floor. he scoffs, picking them up and neatly arranging them on the shoe rack. he hears you call his name, and his head cocks to the doorway of the bathroom. "yes, honey?" he says. to some, it may sound too quiet, too soft to hear. but yushi knows you'll hear him. you always do. "can you please lend me some clothes? i forgot to bring extra!" you yell. yushi doesn't respond. he doesn't need to, because he's already going to his bedroom and picking out pjs for you to wear.

you're currently washing your face when you hear the door open. yushi's standing there, clothes folded neatly in his hand. "thanks, bebe. be a sweetheart and hold them for me really quick," you say, face scrunched up to avoid cleanser getting in your eyes. yushi breathes out quickly, and you can tell he's laughing at your current state. "oh, stop," you tell him, "you better not be taking a picture." the corners of his lips twitch up into a smile. "i'm not. you're lucky i left my phone on the couch."

after washing up, you change into his clothes, which consist of one of his t-shirts and shorts that reach below your knee. you find yushi in the kitchen, staring at the open refrigerator. "is something wrong?" you say, chuckling at his monotone expression. "there's nothing in the fridge," he says simply. you scoff in disbelief, walking over to where he is. "i'm sure it's not that ba- oh jesus." there quite literally is nothing in the fridge, aside from milk, a couple eggs, and half-empty bottles of sauces. you sigh, "...grocery store run?" "i'll get the keys."

now here you two are, in the nearly empty grocery store at 1 in hte morning. yushi leaning against the cart while you pick out different vegetables. "what else do we need?" you ask while placing the tomatoes inside the plastic bag. yushi checks the list on his phone. "mm, bread, eggs, bacon, rice." you nod and put the bag inside the cart, meeting yushi's eyes. he looks so good, his hair a little messy, pieces framing his face perfectly. he's dressed in a white shirt and plaid black pants, and while it's a simple outfit, he has that boyish charm that makes your heart jump.

you smile and slot your hands through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. yushi's body relaxes, sighing. you chuckle. he looks like a cat that's purring after being petted. "you look so boyfriend-y," you tell him. "i am your boyfriend," he says firmly. laughter bubbles in your chest.

the two of you finish grabbing the things you need and walk over to self-checkout. yushi scans the items while you hand them to him. the store is mostly quiet aside from the beeping of the barcodes and the rustling of the bags. "did we get everything?" "yes, honey, we did." "what about a new pot? didn't you say you wanted to change it?" "i bought a new one couple days ago." "and soy sauce? did we get soy sauce?" "yes, honey, it's right there." he points to the bottle of soy sauce in the cart. "oh." you smile sheepishly as you hand it to him.

yushi laughs softly, ruffling your hair. his eyes sparkle, and you notice. "what?" he smiles. "nothing. i just like this." "hm? like what?" "doing boring things with you. because then it's not boring at all." you grin and kiss yushi's cheek softly. little do you know that he meant every single word.

yushi realized that he loves you, in the way that he has fun doing grocery store runs with you, in the way he finds happiness in picking out the biggest carrots and the ripest tomatoes, in the way he enjoys scanning items when you're by his side. he realizes at 1am that he loves you as you're inserting coins into the register because you forgot to bring your card.

"y/n."

"hm?"

"i love doing these things with you. i love you."

you smile. "i love you more." you know what he means. yushi is not a man of many words, but they hold weight to them. he knows you know too. he always does.

--

author's note: lol not it getting longer with each member 😭 but i hope you guys enjoyed! please like + reblog if u did and if anyone has requests then PLEASEEE send some!! i also stan boynextdoor, nct dream, and &team!

[bananinhazz]

MORNINGS WITH YUSHI ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

genre: fluff ofc, tad bit suggestive

pairing: bf!yushi and fem!reader

warnings: none

wc: 0.1k (very very short)

7:26am

sunlight shines through the window curtains as you stir awake, eyes adjusting to the light. behind you is your boyfriend, yushi, arm wrapped around your waist. his forehead rested in the dip of your neck, while his small breathing is tickling your skin.

when you move to get a little more comfortable, yushi wakes up slowly & tightens his grip around your waist. he gives small kisses and little sucks around your neck, but nothing too much.

"baby, howd you sleep?" he whispers as he begins to rub on the side of your thigh. you turn your head and give him a kiss, "good", flashing him a smile afterwards.

the way he holds you is a clear sign of how today will be perfect.

[bananinhazz]

yushi + thighs ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

in any position, yushi’s hands are on your thighs. always. he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it, just squeezing and stroking his palms against your skin. there’s something about how soft you are, how easy you give yourself to him, how your legs tremble when he pushes you just a little further — he can’t help himself. your moans sound too pretty, and your reactions are oh so sweet; whimpering for more like it’s second nature, and every time you do, his own flesh sinks a little deeper into yours. deeper into you.

it’s not even about the sex anymore. it’s you letting him touch and take that has him going insane. and god, the way you spread your legs without him even needing to ask makes something rise in his chest that’s a little too intense to name. he’s spent his whole life trying to catch up to everyone around him, always one step behind — but with you, you meet him halfway. you give, and he happily takes, over and over again, kissing up your thighs until they’re marked up and trembling around his shoulders, holding you still as you gasp and cry out for him, while your thighs wrap tightly around his head keeping him exactly where he’s meant to be.

[bananinhazz]

you belong with me!

sypnosis: it’s a common cliché — the new girl falls in love with the school’s handsome jock. there’s just oneee little problem; he’s dating the captain of the cheerleading squad! don’t worry though, they’ll end up together somehow.

or in which… you’re the captain of the cheerleading team and your classmate confesses her profound love to your popular jock boyfriend. yikes!

pairing: tokuno yushi x reader (she/her pronouns) ft. sion, aeri, ningning, one (1) mention of tws hanjin LOL

genre: crack, small angst, fluff, soccer player!yushi, cheerleader!reader, uni!au, bulletpoint fic

warnings: baby and sweetheart as pet names, mentions of food (?), cringy

wc: 1.7k

— august 5, 8:00 am

you and yushi are literally the power couple of the campus

the handsome yet quiet jock and the pretty, outgoing cheerleader? a match made in heaven if i've ever seen one

the two of you met in science class when paired for a project back in freshman year

slowly you got close with him and became best friends, an unlikely pairing to some eyes, but it worked perfectly for you two

then in junior year yushi confessed to you

it wasn't anything grand or over-the-top, it was just... a confession

a simple "i've developed feelings for you, and if you feel the same i'd love to be yours just as you'd be mine."

i mean, who could say no to that?

"i feel the same way, ushi."

and now here you two are, starting your final year of university stronger than ever

your couple dynamic started getting more traction when yushi got accepted into the soccer team and you into the cheerleading squad

people started LOVING your little moments together

you and your public affection for yushi, always hugging him or giving him good luck kisses for soccer games

him and his quieter acts of love, holding a matcha latte for you in his hand as he waits outside your class, remembering the little things you tell him

people ATE IT UPPPPP (and so would i)

but since yushi isn’t one for big gestures, you resorted to smaller acts like giving him snacks for soccer practice or making him lunch

he’s more affectionate in private and you always respected that

but things started changing when the new girl transferred

uchinaga aeri

"what a fancy name" you first thought

ningning, your best friend and roommate, introduced you to her

she started getting popular in a way

how could she not? she's incredibly pretty!

very reserved though, only started talking to people in the cheer squad when you invited her to tryouts

she was surprisingly very good! got in right away

you introduced her to yushi because you thought they'd get along since he can speak japanese to her

and you were right! the two immediately clicked

you could tell aeri was very comfortable with yushi because she was much more talkative

they were getting close but you didn't mind! you trusted yushi and you had no reason to be worried

...right?

— october 30

2 months go by and aeri has officially joined your little group

it's you, yushi, ningning, and aeri

things are going well! aeri's coming out of her shell and embracing her true self thanks to ning and yushi

she changed a lot from when she first came

aeri dyed her hair a baby pink, started wearing more statement clothes, etc.

very cute look on her! others think so as well since guys started asking her out

and it's nice for yushi too because he has a friend to talk to in his mother tongue

everything is working out!

things are taking a turn for the better

little do you know

— november 11, 4:31 pm

one day, you head to the soccer field to give yushi one of his favorite potato chip snacks

you can't seem to spot him though

"looking for mr. tokuno?" a voice says

you turn around

oh, sion! (pun intended)

"yeah, i just wanted to give him some food"

"i saw him go in locker rooms, try check there"

you thank sion and start heading there

u enter the locker rooms and slowly peek your head through the doorway just so you don't walk into someone changing LOL

and there you see it

yushi and aeri talking on one of the benches

she's saying something in japanese that you obviously can't understand

your bf looks un-entertained

"you shouldn't be here. not even y/n comes back here." he says sternly

aeri scoffs

"so what?"

excuse me????? your brows furrow and a frown grows on your face

"so that means you should leave." yushi's voice firms

aeri giggles and playfully shoves him, "okay okay, i'll go ushi-kun. let's just talk later!"

when did she start calling yushi by the nickname you had for him?

your stomach drops

why do you feel so nauseous?

— november 17, 2:15 pm

a couple days go by and you're still thinking about what you saw in the locker room

maybe you're just overthinking things

if anything you should be glad that aeri is being all friendly!

you're currently walking up to the rooftops of one of the buildings

it's usually where you and yushi go to eat lunch

suddenly, you see ning and sion running towards you like madmen

what the hell is going ON???

"Y/N, Y/N! baby i’m so sorry-“ ningning starts, tears welling up in her eyes

“honey what’s going on?” you ask as she catches her breath

sion finishes the sentence for her

“aeri’s asking yushi out on a date”

you freeze

what?

sion rubs ning on the back soothingly

“it’s okay, we all know yushi loves her, we just wanted to let you know y/nnie”

“this is all my fault! i should’ve never introduced aeri to you y/n i’m so sorr-“

you pull ningning in for a hug

she gets emotional easily lol

“we’ll take you there if you want” sion suggests

you agree

GET YOUR MAN!!!

— november 17, 2:22 pm

the three of you head over to the soccer field

immediately you see it

aeri is standing in front of yushi near the water jug

she’s talking with what seems like a newfound confidence in herself

the rest of the soccer team is on the benches just watching

what a bunch of chismosos, am i right? (sion takes a seat next to ryo and you sit next to him)

it’s like aeri has no shame in talking to YOUR boyfriend infront of his whole team!

but you also have no shame eavesdropping on their conversation

touché

you can hear aeri’s voice clear as day

“ushi-kun, i just wanted to say that i’ve developed feelings for you. you showed me that change is an opportunity for new beginnings, that being myself isn’t something i should be afraid of, and that loving somebody doesn’t have to be grand or extraordinary, that love finds its way into everyday things and mundane matters. thank you for allowing me to be myself. please let me take care of you properly.”

oh

well that wasn’t what you expected at all

you start to think that her confession was even better than yours

it makes you think back to when you first met aeri

she was so quiet, and now she’s much more comfortable with herself

and it’s all thanks to yushi

maybe she makes him feel the same

you can practically feel your body tensing up awaiting yushi’s response

he stares at her blankly and softly says something in japanese

it's short and sweet

yushi then walks away

the sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that it’s better not to know what he said.

he may be your boyfriend, but why does it feel like you're fighting for something that should already be yours?

— january 8, 11:30 am

it’s been less than 2 months since aeri confessed to yushi

you haven’t brought it up since

maybe it's petty or immature but can you really be blamed?

perhaps isn't even your business to ask

yushi notices you've been distant

of course he does

he just needs to find the right time to talk to you about it

— january 8, 10:56 pm

so this was definitely not the right time

he's practically sprinting to you and ning's shared dorm rn

not only is he out of breath but it’s also pouring rain

horrible timing, he thinks

he arrives at your dorm and knocks on your door frantically

you on the other hand are making dinner

ning's out on a date with some guy named hanjin? you forgot tbh

someone starts pounding on your door like crazy

"DAMN GIRL HOLD ON i'm getting to it!" you shout, thinking it was ningning oops

but you open the door to your very much distressed boyfriend

he's wearing his signature denim jacket with a white tee inside and sweats

and even though he’s basically drenched in rainwater the droplets slide down his cheeks just right and they lay on drop of his eyelashes so beautifully

wow

he looks so pretty ugh no wonder why aeri likes h-

"baby, i'm freezing here."

his voice snaps you out of your trance

oh RIGHT

you apologize and let him in right away, running to the bathroom and giving him a towel to dry his hair

he sits on your couch and you do the same, taking up the space next to him

"why are you here so damn late?” you scold him “it’s pouring out there too! what were you thinking?”

“i know you were there when aeri said she liked me. i know you heard everything. i know you think that i accepted her confession.”

goddamn he NAILED it

you can barely look him in the eyes as you try to respond

“i—“ “y/n.” you look up at yushi, who’s already staring at you very intensely

“listen to me sweetheart, okay?”

you nod (it’s all you can manage to do)

“i do not love her. i belong to you just as you belong to me. i only see aeri as an acquaintance, nothing more. you make me feel safe, comfortable, and loved. you turn my rainy days around and make the sunny ones even brighter. please never think that you will be replaced. the love you’ve shown me is of a price that nothing can buy. i love you, y/n.”

oh

well that wasn’t what you expected at all pt.2

wait, are you crying?

oh yeah we’re crying

hereee we go with the waterworks

you can’t even get a word out because you’re practicing sobbing at thing point but yushi just hugs you tightly and rubs the back of your neck as his other hand is rubbing small circles into your waist

“how do you always know what to say” you ask through sobs

he chuckles

“i can read you like a book”

yushi holds you for the rest of the night

— february 27, 8:20pm

back and better than eva baby!!!

you and yushi are doing much better now, if not better than the beginning of the school year

aeri has a group of new friends now, and both you and yushi say hi to her occasionally, but things have changed

and that’s okay!

yushi’s game against the rival uni just finished

close match but yushi’s team stay winning!!!

there was supposed to be a victory celebration at a nearby restaurant but he wanted to go to his dorm so you agreed

he must be tired

as you enter his dorm you take notice of how everything seems so… sentimental?

candles are lit, warm lighting is surrounding the living room, soft music is playing

what is going ON

you step forward a little bit and there it is

all your favorite snacks set up nicely in a basket, your favorite character's plushie sitting on the couch, a HUGE ass bouquet of flowers, and balloons that spell out 'happy anniversary'

you laugh out loud

he's really outdone himself

yushi may not be someone that loves in public, but when he does, he does it right

— bonus

after aeri confesses, yushi says something in japanese so you can't understand

what was it, you may ask?

"my heart belongs to someone else."

—

author's note: AAAAAAA my first actual fic?? i don't know how i feel i'm not good with words so it's probably booty

please make sure to like or reblog if you enjoyed it and pls be nice or i'll cry :') have an amazing night!